A Model and Me

I was heading for a client meeting, walking past the local university student halls when my phone went off in my pocket. A text from Paul filled the screen.

‘I see you, come on up. I’m naked and waiting.’

My dick instantly started to harden, and I had a dilemma, be late for my client meeting or run the risk of Paul going to ground again and not getting into that perfect arse for weeks.

I met Paul on gaydar a few months earlier. He was bored and horny in his room in halls and I had the day off. We chatted for a while before we shared pictures. He loved chatting about sex, surfing, working out and nights out in London. He wasn’t in to one-night stands, opting for friends with benefits and wasn’t horny very often so rarely had sex. That last part was a concept alien to me, so we talked about it a lot.

When we finally swapped photos, I didn’t believe it was him. He shared a photo shoot from a well-known national modelling audition. There is no way I could pull a contestant from that competition. He’d made it to the top 5 for god’s sake and he wanted to meet me? Must be a wind up. Remember, this was a time before catfishing was (unfortunately) ‘normal’.

‘I’m working and the Red Lion tonight, if you don’t believe me, come and say hi.’

The Red Lion was a complete dive. It was due to be torn down in the next few months and turned into a supermarket, it was well known for its rough and tumble patrons. I was a little nervous so dragged along a friend.

When we walked through the door, it was like walking into a pub in Royston Vasey (league of gentlemen for those that remember it) meaning it was a local pub for local people. Even though I only lived a mile up the road, I wasn’t a regular so when I walked in with Charlotte, it felt like the whole place went silent as they looked us over to check we weren’t coppers. We did not feel comfortable at all.

‘Shit, Christian, is that him?’ Charlotte spotted Paul standing behind the bar, directly under a down light. My jaw almost fell to the floor as we walked over to say hi.

There he was, exactly as he looked in his pictures (except with clothes), lit up like a tanned Greek god in a museum. Thick blonde hair and bright blue eyes twinkling as he spotted us. Standing at 6’5 with broad muscled shoulders, lats that came up to his neck the perfect amount, a tight muscle T-shirt that showed off his perfect biceps, pecs and abs with a v shaped torso that tapered to his 32” waist and then out again to his strong muscled legs. Everything was in perfect proportion, including and especially his arse which was covered in a pair of tight jeans. They weren’t meant to be tight fitting, his arse and legs just filled them out. I felt incredibly inadequate and self-conscious. I was still going to the gym 3/4 times a week but looked nothing like that!

‘Christian! You made it. Believe me now? What can I get you both?’

I ordered drinks and we chatted for a while. Charlotte was in her element, quizzing him about the competition - although he did have to ask her to keep it down a bit, this wasn’t the kind of pub you discussed such things, why he worked here (they needed someone that looked like they wouldn’t be messed with if things went tits up) and what he was studying at Uni. I sat there staring and made far too many stupid comments.

We were only there for an hour, but it felt like a lifetime. When we finally left, Charlotte dove straight in.

‘He seems lovely. Shame he’s not looking for a boyfriend.’

‘Neither am I.’

‘I bet you would if he asked.’

‘No way! I’d spend my life being the bit on his arm. He’s way out of my league.’

‘Whatever. You gay boys are so fickle.’

She was right of course but I still ignored her.

The following day, Paul text me.

‘It was nice to finally meet you yesterday. Your pictures don’t do you justice.’

‘Thanks, it was good to meet you too. Charlotte really likes you. If you decide to turn straight, she’ll be the first in line.’

And after a pregnant pause, I sent another text.

‘You look exactly like your photos. Sorry I didn’t believe you. Just seemed too good to be true. I’m not exactly in the same league as you.’

‘She’s nice looking for sure but you’re more my type.’ To this day, I still don’t understand why, although I have a pretty good idea but I’ll get to that in a bit.

Then he followed up with ‘Why don’t you come to halls later. We can try out some of the stuff we talked about.’

Paul knew I had Sundays off, and it was Easter break, so all his flat mates had already gone home so, unlike me, he had the place to himself.

‘Sure. I hope you’re ready.’ I may as well go all in. He text me first so he must be interested.

When I arrived at halls, I walked up to the gate and entered the code for his flat. He buzzed me in, and I made the long walk through the communal area, finally coming up to his block. He’d left the doors on latch so I could walk straight in. When I walked through the door, I was greeted with Paul standing there in just a towel and a giant smile in his face. His pictures didn’t do him justice, he looked like David Laid does now. I couldn’t believe I was stood in front of him.

‘Sorry, just had a quick shower while I waited. I’m not quite dry yet. Have a seat.’

I sat on his desk chair and watched as he meticulously dried every part of his body. His hair and face, down to his shoulder and biceps, under his arms, his chest and abs, his crotch, and legs and finally his back and arse. I was mesmerised as he completed this ritual in front of me, talking about his day and what I’d been doing this morning etc. It was surreal.

I couldn’t help but stare at his dick as he dried himself. He had the perfect cut cock, around 6.5” long and a good fair girth to it too. He kept everything trimmed just so. He clearly took pride in the way he looked. His dick was definitely coming to attention while I was paying attention to it, occasionally making eye contact with Paul.

‘You like what you see then?’ He was staring at my crotch and the clear signs of my cock growing down the leg of my trousers. Despite me feeling intimidated, it had other ideas.

‘You know I do. Now get over here and show me what I’ve been missing.’

Paul grinned, showing his perfect teeth and a beautiful smile. He got on his knees and undid my trousers, releasing my cock. Now, one thing you should know about Paul, he might be the epitome of a Greek god but he’s an almost total submissive in bed. Those things we’d talked about? It was him servicing my cock and taking a damn good fucking. That’s probably why my cock reacted the way it did. It knew what it was going to get.

Paul sucked me for a few minutes, then I fucked his brains out before making him cum hands free. It lasted a good hour and his room smelled like a locker room and was as hot as a sauna by the time we’d finished. This guy is another screamer. I loved every minute of it. I was totally spent, and he was satisfied, at least for another month, as that’s when I heard from him next.

‘Hey you, up for coming over later? Housemates are out tonight.’

‘Why don’t you come over here? More space and more comfortable at mine. Plus, you won’t wake up the rest of the block with those screams. ;)’ My housemates were at their parents for the week, and I’d made plans, but I cancelled them. I had a better offer.

‘Sure thing. Need me to bring anything?’

‘You could wear your surf gear, the shorts, not the wetsuit.’

‘Haha, deal. I don’t think you want to try fucking me in that, it’s pretty tight.’ He’d sent see a picture of him in it, it left nothing to the imagination, for sure.

Paul arrived at mine around 6 wearing just a pair of board shorts, a vest, and flip flops. My neighbours certainly took in the show as he walked up the drive but by the time he was in my living room, he’d already stripped off the lot. He was very comfortable with his nakedness and was now sat starkers on my sofa.

‘Are you not going to get naked, sir?’ Not sure I’m comfortable with sir but we’ll keep it going for now.

‘Not yet, I’m enjoying the view. Tell me what you’re going to do when I do?’ He likes this kind of role play. To see if I will allow him to do the things he wants or if I will take control.

‘I’m going to suck on your cock and lick your balls. Caress your body all over, worship you. Then I’m going to bend over so you can fuck me deep and hard until I make you cum.’

‘Sounds good to me. You enjoyed our last fuck session then?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Now show me how good you are at sucking my cock.’

He got on his knees between my legs and pulled down my trousers and briefs, exposing my hard cock. It slapped onto my abs, and he smiled. He had a joyful look in his eye, like he was finally being granted access to his favourite toy. He slowly took it into his mouth and ran his tongue around the head, savouring every drop of precum and edging me at least twice before I decided to make my move and take over.

‘Go to the bedroom and assume the position.’

‘Yes, sir.’ He went to the bedroom and laid on his back, legs held up by his shoulders. His perfect smooth arse was spread wide and exposed a perfectly puckered hole. It twitched as I entered the room, now naked and solid as a rock.

Paul loved being rimmed, I worked his hole for more than half an hour, licking, sucking, blowing and teasing him. He moaned so loud that I had to put a pillow over his head multiple times. I may not have housemates in but Mrs. Jones at number 91 didn’t need to hear this. Maybe we should have stayed in halls.

The more I rimmed him, the higher up he pulled his knees, until he was practically doubled over and could almost suck his own cock. If it wasn’t for the density of his abs, I’m sure he could have managed it. I would have LOVED to see that. I’m certain he could do it when he was younger. The proximity of his arse to his face made it easy for me to kiss him and return back to his arse multiple times. This only made him hornier, and he started begging for me to fuck him. Before I did that though, I needed to suck his perfect cock, so I asked him to let his legs down for a minute. When I eventually got access to his dick, I licked and savoured it. The rim session had made him leak precum all over his abs, it was delicious, both the precum and his abs, the beads of sweat. The taste of him after a gym session, even though he’d showered, it was intoxicating. I worshiped his cock and abs, playing with his nipples and letting him taste his precum on my lips for a few minutes before he warned me that he’d cum if I kept going. I wasn’t ready to let him out of my clutches just yet.

‘Please fuck me.’ Oh, ok then. If I must. Fuck me, this guy is perfect.

He lifted his legs again and exposed his hole. Missionary isn’t usually my preferred position, but I was prepared to make an exception for him. I loved the look on his face as I gave him that extra half inch, it’s worth the extra effort. I rolled on a condom as he started twitching his hole, now he was begging from both ends. I slipped the head of my cock into his hole. He’s not loose by any means but he was well practiced at taking cock, so he managed the first 8” is ease. I’m now in the plank position with him rolled up underneath me, our faces are just a couple of inches apart and he’s staring at me with those big blue eyes.

‘Please sir, fuck my hole.’ I drop my full weight from my hips and the last half inch piles into him with no mercy. Unfortunately, being in a press-up position, I can’t grab the pillow to put it over his face. He lets out an almighty scream and a look of pure ecstasy rolls across his face. Mrs. Jones heard that one for sure, but I don’t give a shit. For the next 10 minutes, I relentlessly pile drive his hole, pulling out almost completely and driving down into him with all my weight. The screams and moans are intense, from both of us.

‘Fuck, I think I’m going to piss myself.’ Now, I’ve never really been a fan but there’s something about fucking a lad so hard that he loses total control. I pound him twice more before he releases his bladder and soaks his face, body and my bed with his piss. He didn’t lose his hardon for a second, so it was pretty intense. As he emptied his bladder, he started to wank himself off, making his hole clasp around my cock and getting me close. I’m still pile driving my dick into his hole and he’s about to shoot.

‘Here it comes, boy. Take my load.’

Paul shoots his load all over his face just as I send 5 or 6 shots of my own cum into him. We collapse in a heap on my piss-soaked duvet. It’s fucking hot in here, again.

‘Well, no one’s ever made me do that.’

‘It’s new to me too.’ I’ve gone dizzy with the effort of that one. Has to be the most intense fuck, ever.

Paul showered, I binned the duvet and we parted ways for another few weeks.

It was late in the summer, after graduation when I got a text from Paul.

‘Hey, I’m just on my way back home from surfing in Cornwall, up for a drink if I stop by yours?’ We’d never actually socialised much but it had been months since I’d seen him, and we had kept in touch by text so I was looking forward to seeing him face to face. We met up at one of my locals and had a couple of drinks, it was really nice to have a normal conversation with him, at least to start with.

‘So, you up for a quick fuck before I go?’ Ah, it was just meant to be a social call but I’m not going to complain. There’s just one problem.

‘My housemates are home so yes, but unfortunately, no.’

‘Mate, I’ve been living in the back of my van for 6 weeks, we can just go there. It’s basically a camper van at this point.’ Now, you’ll have read enough of my stories to know that I don’t mind a bit out outdoor fucking but this one was new for me. I can’t pass up that perfect arse though.

I fucked his brains out in the back of his van for two hours, parked on the side of a major A road. No one had a clue what was going on inside. Once again, it was like a sauna in there when we were done.

It was another 3 years before we saw each other again, although we chatted often by text and on the internet. Paul got himself a boyfriend and settled down, but they sadly split up and Paul was feeling a bit down, so I invited him to stay next time he was driving past.

He arrived one evening when I had friends staying over. When he walked in, one of them recognised him.

‘Hey, weren’t you in one of those modelling competitions a few years ago?’ Dylan was 22 and had a knack of remembering faces really well. He also had a habit of religiously tossing off to pictures of the contestants (or any male models, really) when he was younger.

Paul blushed. ‘Yeah, but that was a while ago.’ He had no need to be embarrassed, he hadn’t changed a bit. Still worked out every day and if anything, had got better with age.

‘I still would.’ Meet Dylan, as articulate and tactful as a Twink can get. I punched him on the arm, and he gave me the look of a chastised puppy.

Once we’d had a few drinks and everyone else had gone to bed, Paul and I chatted for a while. It got really late, and we were really drunk and passed out together on my bed.

I woke up with Paul’s mouth around my dick. Only half awake and still drunk, I could just about tell that he was rolling a condom on to my cock and before I knew it, the moaning had started (he was as loud as ever) and he’s riding my dick. I continue to pretend to be asleep and let him enjoy himself until I get the urge to give him his favourite pile driving fuck. I roll him on to his front and slap his backside with my hips repeatedly for a few minutes before making him cum hands free and shooting my load deep inside him. We rolled on our sides with me still inside him and drifted off to sleep.

We woke up in a dry sticky mess but just laughed it off.

Dylan took the piss the next morning about how loud we were fucking, until Paul offered to fuck his brains out. Just a little intimidated, Dylan cowered into himself for the rest of the morning. Paul thought it was hilarious. He’s never been very tolerant of arrogant little twinks. It made me smile at how easily Paul had put Dylan in his place.

We lost touch after that although I do see Paul appearing occasionally on the internet for various endeavours he’s done and even pictures of his wedding. I often look back on those times with fondness and I’m glad he found someone that made him happy.

Oh, and was I late for that client meeting? Of course I fucking was :D.