I was sweet 18 and eager to make some extra cash. I worked as a clerical officer in the government and was bored – really bored. I was also gay but at a time where I didn't know quite what to do with being gay. All my teenage sexual partners had passed their homosexual phase and gone after women or had simply moved on after leaving school. I knew nothing of gay bars, gay toilets or quite simply how many gay people there were out there. This was, after all the mid-sixties.
I was offered a part time job in a pub on Thursday, Friday and Saturday and, being the classy lad I was, I worked in the cocktail bar. Another guy called John, did Wednesday, Friday and Saturday and he was married and about 23. I always was attracted to guys a little younger than me so, though John was an slim attractive guy, he wasn't really my sort and anyway he was married so obviously that made him straight in my eyes.
I was still getting a bit but it was very haphazard. A friend, Martin, with whom I had been having fun around once a fortnight since I was 11, had decided it wasn't a nice thing to do (except from time to time when he was randy but this was becoming less frequent). Another school friend arrived with his new girlfriend which was a warning shot across my bows that he was now off the menu and the only one pursuing me was a plump ex-school friend who I hadn't even fancied at school.
You have probably guessed that I was really horny. You want to know how horny? On the way home late at night, I used to get off the bus two stops early so that I could walk across a very dark park in the hope of being molested by some stranger. You can never get a paedophile when you want one can you?
You want to know how desperate I was, I had a girl friend? She was permanently on heat and always wanting sex. I don't actually think I ever fucked her. I fingered her a bit but by God I hated it. I think that's when I realised I was definitely not going the same way as my friends.
So back to the bar, I had little interest in John but he was good company and he always was so squeaky clean. He was slim, about 5 feet 10 inches. The women adored him and he was quite softly spoken and very well mannered.
Our bar consisted of a public bar on the ground floor and a cocktail bar open 4 days a week on the upper floor. The people owned a sister bar just round the corner which was much rougher and thankfully neither of us was asked to work there. Once a year, in early June, we all piled into a coach on a Sunday (bars didn't open on Sunday) and headed into the Scottish Highlands for a day out. Sandwiches were packed and crates of beer piled into the coach and all the staff plus the regular customers (i.e. near alcoholics) were invited along too. It wasn't my scene but John said he was going without his wife and I could keep him company. I agreed.
He arrived wearing a kilt, very casually worn with a t-shirt on the top and climbing boots on his feet. A number of people had said they would be wearing a kilt as our day out was to some Highland Games. I didn't own one (at least not one that would fit me any more since I had owned it since I was 4). John looked very smart and I said so.
We chatted all the way there and had a bottle or two of beer. When we arrived we wandered around the Highland Games watching the fun, listening to the pipe bands and trying a few stalls. John then suggested that since the bus was not leaving for a good few hours, we grab some beer and sandwiches and head into the hills. It was a beautiful day and the idea seemed great. We headed across the hills and before long were in glorious isolation with the games barely visible in the valley. We set ourselves up on the edge of a small wood with a couple of small beach towels we had with us (just in case we had a chance to paddle in a nearby river) and settled to drink more beer and eat our sandwiches. John chatted about life and I got the feeling that he and his wife were not getting on well. He said it was because of him working at the bar but I wasn't so sure.
He sat opposite me, sitting upright with one leg folded under the other and I was suddenly aware that I could see his brilliant white underwear. They were Jockey-style briefs and as he talked and moved his legs I could even see the bulge where his cock and balls lay. This image was one of the most erotic I had encountered (and I still have a fetish about seeing up kilts to this day). Of course, any true Scotsman would have been in a position to show more as we are not meant to wear anything under the kilt but at that moment I couldn't care less!
Suddenly he stood up and I thought my clandestine glances had been noticed, but he suddenly suggested we sunbathe. He pulled his polo shirt top off to reveal a hairless chest and then unbuckled his kilt to stand in his white Jockeys. My cock was already hard from the earlier views and this was doing nothing to help the situation. I slowly pulled my short sleeved shirt over my head and started to unbuckle my cotton trousers and with some careful manipulation, managed to stand with my back to him as I revealed my Marks and Spencer's dark blue briefs. We lay down alongside each other and continued to talk as we stared at the azure blue sky.
He asked me about my “girlfriend” and how close we were. At all times he didn't actually talk about sex using questions like “how close” and “do you get on well” and “do you have much time alone together?”
I noticed his right thumb was gently rubbing the edge of his briefs just above his balls. It was very subtle and had the effect of making the profile of his cock stick up slightly. Mine, had a mind of its own and with no help at all was starting to tent towards the sky. I raised my right leg to protect it from view and when I glanced again, his cock was standing up quite rigidly. I was confused.
“Lying almost naked always gets me horny,” he said.
“Me too,” I responded almost automatically.
“If I lie here any longer I'll have to relieve myself,” he said.
I mumbled sometime akin to a “yes.”
“You can too,” he continued.
With that he stood up with his cock sticking obscenely out from behind the cotton of his briefs and promptly dropped them. His cock sprang into view. It was a slim member, foreskin covering the tip and about 5.5 inches long. His hair was almost jet black and his balls just peeped out from the hair. Strangely his chest was not hairy at all but his legs were.
“Come on,” he encouraged.
I stood up and dropped my briefs letting my slightly thicker 7 inches, uncut, come into view.
“Wow that's a beauty,” he said, “do you mind?”
He leant forward and took my cock in his hand and started to stroke it. I responded by getting even harder. He dropped to his knees and swallowed it almost to the hilt, gagging as he went. He licked my balls as he stroked his cock. He then stood up and pushed my shoulders down to encourage me to swallow him. I was able to take it all easily and even managed one of his small balls in my mouth. He moaned in ecstasy.
“This is the first time I've touched or been touched by a guy,” he said, “But I was so randy I had to get something.”
He stood up and held out cocks together rubbing them with his hand wrapped round both. He then went behind me and rubbed his cock against my arse. I hadn't had a lot of sex but only one cock had been there and it was 7 inches and painful. I had decided that perhaps I should stay as a top. While these thoughts were going through my head, his small cock slipped inside me and he started to fuck as he gripped my cock. I was surprised how painless it was. In these pre-aids days, a virgin was a safe fuck.
He gripped my hips and bit my neck as his small cock erupted inside me and I felt the force of the warm cum fill me. I shot instantaneously with copious jets of creamy cum arcing out from my cock. He pulled out with cum still pumping softly from the end of his, thankfully clean, cock and said how great that had been. The whole session had taken ten minutes.
We dressed and walked back down to the games. He hardly mentioned our intimacy at all on the way down.
Surprisingly the subject was never brought up again and when his wife fell pregnant, he left for a better job without my ever getting a chance to take it further. Sometimes the short, unexpected events are the most erotic and the ones which stay emblazoned on your mind over the years and this was one of them.