Sye Boat Meeting

This experience happened in May, a couple of years ago, when I was motoring round Scotland. I was on the ferry from Mallaig to Armadale. It was quite a windy day. As you know. it always appears windier on board, even when you are on a small car ferry due to the ships passage. Well, I walked out of the cabin area to go down a deck and the strong wind lifted my kilt right up, front and back. The kilt lifted really easily all round since I didn't have a sporran on because I find it catches on the seat belt when driving. I was wearing an old comfortable Cameron kilt with matching tartan undershorts so it didn't really matter when the tartan blew up - I was still quite modestly covered - only embarrassed that my underwear was on show. There were quite a lot of people watching, fascinated, as I made my way down the stairs with the kilt above my waist. Since the sea was choppy and the ship was moving about quite briskly I had to hold on to the rails on both sides of the stair for balance so there was no chance to hold the tartan down. A cheer even went up from the audience! I blushed!

There was one young guy who had been watching and, as I passed, he made a comment about how good I looked in my kilt and how brave I was to wear it on such a windy day. I thanked him for his nice comment and said that it was probably a bit rash for me to be wearing a kilt on a day like this.

I thought little more about it till I saw him again coming in to the dining room of the hotel where I was staying the night. No great surprise that we were in the same hotel since there are not that many hotels on Skye. We greeted each other but he was with an older woman and they had an assigned table. I finished first and then repaired to the bar for another drink. They came in later and looked around for somewhere to sit but most of the tables were taken. I suggested that they sit with me since I had managed to grab a corner location. They did and we got talking. The older woman was his aunt. He had just finished university, in Manchester, I think, and they were having a holiday touring Scotland before he started work.

I could see John, his name was, looking intently at my kilt. He asked a few questions about the tartan and the sporran and I knew that was not all he wanted to know but his aunt was there and that inhibited him. Quite soon she said that she would go up to her room and watch television but we should go on chatting together. After she left, John told me that he wanted to know a lot more about my kilt. I asked him what specifically he wanted to know but he said that he felt he couldn't really ask with all the other people around. I suggested that we get another drink and go up to my room where I would tell him anything he wanted to know.

When we first got to my room there was a moment of awkwardness but that soon passed and we settled down with our drinks. I took off my jacket. It was quite a reasonable sized room with two chairs. We were sitting opposite one another and I could see that John was trying to look up my kilt. I opened my legs slightly and watched his gaze focus on the spot between my knees. I was fascinated that a young man like him should be remotely interested in an older guy like me but of course it was the kilt that he was really interested in. not me. He was well built and reasonably good looking too.

I asked him what he wanted to know but he changed the subject slightly and told me that he had never seen a real man's kilt close up before. Kilts had fascinated him from an early age and he had looked for them on TV, in magazines, and even on the internet, but he had never seen one close up in real life. When he had come to Scotland on this visit he had expected to see lots of guys in kilts but I was actually the first that he had seen. I told him that very few guys wore kilts in the normal course of event. They mostly kept them for weddings, Highland Games, and occasions like Burns Night. He asked about my tartan and I told him that this was the Cameron of Erracht tartan. It was not a very well made kilt but it was comfortable enough and suitable for driving around in. When he had seen me on the boat I had been just wearing a pullover but now I had on a tweed jacket and a rabbit hair sporran. I said that this was proper day dress which I could have worn on the boat. Evening dress would be a black jacket and a fancy sporran with a silver cantle.

He cleared his throat and looked slightly embarrassed then said that he had heard that Scotsmen didn't wear any pants under their kilts! There was a pause!! But from what he had seen on the ship today that clearly wasn't the case. I laughed and told him that it wasn't true that all Scotsmen went naked beneath their kilts. I went 'True Scot' as it was called, on occasions but I preferred wearing pants.

"Were those special kilt pants you were wearing earlier today?" he asked.

"Yes, they are really called kilt undertrews. They are not very common now but they can either be plain coloured to tone with the kilt or in the same tartan to match it. The idea is to disguise the underwear as much as possible so that when the kilt blows up or I sit carelessly it is not obvious which is kilt and which is pants. But when my kilt blew right up on the boat today there was no disguising my underpants. It only works if the audience just gets a quick flash." Another pause. "I am still wearing them, by the way!!"

I opened my legs some more and watched him look with renewed interest. He told me later that it had greatly excited him seeing the tartan crotch between my thighs.

I asked if he wanted to see the undertrews close up. Of course he did! I got up and stood beside his chair. But then nothing happened. Perhaps the poor boy was too shy.

"Would you like to lift my kilt?" I prompted. That was enough. There I was standing beside him, having moved my sporran out of the way, while he gingerly lifted the tartan aprons. He lifted only the top one at first then got the idea and lifted both. I could hear his intake of breath as they came into view. I found this very exciting having a handsome young lad lift my kilt up and I could feel myself respond. I looked down and. yes. I could see the beginning of the outline growing down the leg of my tartan shorts. To be honest. I didn't know whether to be ashamed or pleased. No doubt he could see it too. I ducked the question by turning round so that he could see the back view. After a bit I turned back to face him again. I could see him looking hard at the bulge. The outline was unmistakable now. Did he want to touch it?

Yes. but he did so gingerly. "It wont bite." I reassured him. Then I could feel firmer pressure and then he was holding it through the tartan. "Is this all you?" he asked. "It must be very big!"

"It's not that big. Do you want to see it properly?"

"Yes!"

"Well. on you go then."

He looked for and found the fly zip. The tab on this zip is quite small on this pair of trews and he had some difficulty drawing it down. But down it came at last and a tentative hand was inside my tartan drawers. I could feel his warm fingers reaching down. Finding. then holding my thing. which was still growing down the leg. then squeezing it gently. He carefully raised it to the vertical position before pulling it out through the fly opening. It was bigger and stiffer by this time, due to the excitement of him holding me.

"Wow, this is a big one," he said.

I was still holding up the kilt aprons at the front and suggested that it might be easier if he took off my sporran and kilt completely. I dropped the kilt aprons which tented over the pole which was by now standing quite firmly upright on its own. I showed him where the sporran strap and kilt buckles were and he duly undid them. After my kilt was removed and I was standing there in my tartan underpants I suggested that he might be a bit overdressed. He agreed and pulled off his top, stepped out of his trainers and pulled his trousers down and off. He was wearing only some Nike socks and a pair of gray trunks. I could see a nice bulge in the front. I was well pleased to see that he was aroused.

He held me and started to rub it gently. "You really are stiff!" he commented.

"No wonder, with the attention you are giving me," I replied. I gave him some lube and he used it. He rubbed me some more. It was a lovely feeling.

Then he wanted to get my balls out of the trews as well. I loved him fishing around inside my pants to pull them up and through. He was surprised at the metal ring I was wearing round the base of my cock and I explained that it was meant to keep my balls in place when I became sexually aroused but I liked the feel of it holding me in and wore it nearly all the time.

He was kneeling in front of me and, with his face only inches away, he admired my sexual equipment standing proudly upright, sticking through the front of my tartan pants. I wondered if he was going to suck me but he was just looking. Then he started rubbing me again. I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it before I came but he backed off and stood up. I could see again the outline of his erection holding out the front of his underpants but I could now also see a small wet patch forming at the very tip of the bulge. I put my hand out to touch the outline and it felt really hard. I pulled the waistband of his pants out and down so his penis was exposed. It was actually quite small in the flesh. The bulge had made it look bigger. But there was no doubting his excitement as it would hardly bend when I tried to move it from side to side. He was uncircumcised with a very long foreskin, covering the glans completely, and with a bit to spare, even in full erection. I gently pulled the foreskin back and it moved easily enough - it wasn't too tight - to reveal a very pink glans, wet and shiny with precum. Still holding back his foreskin, I put my lips to the head cautiously since many uncircumcised men don't taste good. But he must have washed recently and he tasted fine. I enjoyed the unique flavor of fresh precum. With his glans and shaft normally so well protected by foreskin he was, as expected, ultra sensitive so it wasn't long before he was writhing with pleasure. He asked me to stop for a bit while he recovered.

I stood up and caught a view of us in the bedroom mirror. We looked a sight, him in white ankle socks, his pants still round his ankles, with his erect cock sticking out. And me still in kilt hose and shoes, shirt and Cameron tartan tie, with my cock still fully erect, sticking out of the tartan underpants. I watched as he took off his pants completely and also his ankle socks so he was absolutely naked. A nice contrast with me being almost fully dressed. And both of us were very obviously sexually aroused. Isn't it marvelous how you can tell immediately when a man is 'interested'. I asked him how it was that he seemed to be quite sexually experienced at such an early age. He told me that he had known since he was a teen that he was gay. He had had quite a few experiences at university, including with older men. In fact he had a 'thing' about older men.

I asked if he wanted to penetrate me but, no, he just wanted us to bring each other off by hand so I got a towel from the bathroom to protect the carpet. After I laid it down he was ready for me. We applied lubricant to each other although he didn't really need it since he was already quite wet with precum but I was dry. So there we were, taking each other in hand. We managed to coordinate it quite well and came at nearly the same time. I was surprised and amazed at the length of time he kept ejaculating and how much semen he expelled. The benefits of youth!!

I asked if he wanted to sleep in my bed and he did. He would go back to his own room early in the morning before his aunt was stirring. He undressed me and we retired.

I was woken quite early to feel something warm, wet, and hard against my back. Then it moved down and I felt it again against my bum. Slowly it dawned that John was trying to penetrate me with his prick. I reached back and felt his erect penis. It was fully stiff! Again, the benefits of youth. To be erect so soon again after cumming so copiously the previous evening! I didn't mind although I wasn't feeling sexy myself. Still on my side, I curled up, exposing my hole to him. In no time he was inside me. I could feel his stiff warmth - so much better than a rubber dildo! His precum seemed to be lubricant enough. He took his time but came eventually with much shuddering so he really enjoyed it. When he withdrew I could feel the wetness cooling but was too sleepy to do anything about it. He must have left shortly afterwards since I woke up on my own. His semen had partially dried but the bed was still a bit wet in places and stained. So much semen in only 6 or 7 hours! I had a flash of worry that he hadn't used a condom.

We had exchanged email addresses the night before and I sent him an email when I got home after my travels. He wanted to see some pics of me in my kilt and trews, specifically the Cameron ones that he had enjoyed so much. Unfortunately he wasn't a very good correspondent and our emails lapsed.