The following tale includes graphic scenes of man-on-man sex. Discretion is advised.
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Dublin 1992
I met Tommy in the swimming pool changing rooms. A big, awkward, shy 19-year-old with closeted bisexual fantasies, I wasn't terribly confident in my body or my appearance. I had showered and was changing in a three-sided cubicle. The fourth side had a flimsy plastic curtain that opened out to the main bench area. An old man sat on the bench with only his towel draped across his legs. It was a quiet day.
He looked over at me, smiled and lowered his eyes to my groin area. This was a very new situation for me. He looked friendly and gentle. I felt safe and suddenly aroused. I took a chance and removed the towel from my waist. He gave me a thumbs up sign and I grabbed my balls and cock and shoved them forward to display myself to him. He was staring intently. With a couple of yanks, I sprung to attention. I peeled back the foreskin to give him a better view. I started wanking off for him and he licked his lips and I saw him stroking under his towel.
He was a small man, cleanly shaved, bald, but for some grey hair around the sides and back of his head. He had a small patch of white hair across his chest but seemed otherwise smooth. He had a small paunch and thin white legs. I guessed him to be perhaps in his 70s.
Suddenly the door opened with a clatter and two men entered talking loudly. The old man and I quickly busied ourselves with our belongings while they chatted about football, changed into their swimming gear and disappeared into the pool.
I sat on my little seat in front of him with my legs spread wanting him to see all. He shuffled along the bench to be as close as he could be. I caught a glimpse of his silver pubes under his towel while we both stared.
"Do you want to see my arse?" he asked. They were the first words he spoke to me. I nodded and he stood before me and spread his cheeks. He leaned forward and his long balls dangled under him. His legs were a little wrinkled. His smooth buttocks and puckered arsehole stretched before me. It was my first time seeing another man this way. I badly wanted to touch him.
The door opened again and we normalised ourselves quickly.
The intruder changed at the far end of the room where he could not see in my cubicle. But Tommy could see me. I felt reckless but while Tommy sat before me and the man started whistling as he undressed near his locker, I wanked myself in earnest. Tommy watched while I spunked onto the damp floor tiles, having to lean forward against the wall when my strength left me.
More people entered the room and I knew our encounter was over. I had a hurried second shower to wash my cock, dried off and got dressed.
I barely made my maths class in time and I thought about our encounter all day. I went back to the pool a few times but he wasn't there. I next saw him one wet December evening, walking home after lectures. I was cold and miserable and on a busy footpath a small man peaked out from under his umbrella and waved. I paused.
"Oh. Hello." I said awkwardly. He held out his hand and introduced himself. "I'm Tommy," he said. "Pleased to meet you. That was fun wasn't it? You're a very attractive young man."
Still not sure of what to do, I thought it would be rude not to at least introduce myself, considering the intimate nature of our encounter. "Mikey," I said. "Pleased to meet you," and we shook hands.
He was just on his way back from the pool and we chatted briefly about swimming. He looked at his watch, then back to me. "I live just down this street," he nodded towards a side road that led to a small housing estate. "Come for a cup of tea. It's cold here."
I followed him to a quaint house with a lush front garden. When we walked in he surprised me. "Mary, I'm home!" he called out.
A short, stout elegant lady emerged from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. "This is Mikey, the young man from the pool I told you about. We just met on the street. Isn't it exciting?"
