Meeting Gerren

The next morning, I was woken up by Gerren, shaking me and telling me we had an hour before we’d leave for London. I really must have been in a deep sleep, possibly since I was at Sandhurst. He told me there was a light breakfast downstairs and to join me there. I looked around for the while towelling gown and towels I had used the previous evening but couldn’t find them. Rather than wasting time trying to find them I walked downstairs naked, and received a cheeky grin from Gerren. Just looking at him made my dick spring up. He was the handsomest and sexiest man I had ever seen to my eyes at least and I took the chance of a cuddle up to him and a good morning kiss which he responded to with enthusiasm. Breakfast was slices of toast with farm produced butter and jam or marmalade. Gerren announced that we’d stop just before we left Cornwall and a great greasy spoon, he knew at a lay-by, where we could tuck in. He’d already been up for an hour and told me that he had to fight his way off the bed as I wouldn’t let go of him. I had no idea that had happened; I was so out of it. He’d tidied up, prepared the rubbish for collection, laundry and linen for collection, and ordered his food for his next visit home in just under two weeks time. I was so impressed with his orderliness and told him so, snuggling up to him again searching for another kiss.

He responded by grabbing hold of my erection tightly and spanking by backside, and kissed me deeply. I could have stripped him there and then and got down to some serious love making with him, if only there was time. My head was now trying to figure out how I could see him again and for longer. Gerren was chatting away to me and very little was staying in my brain. He sent me upstairs to shower and prepare for the journey home, and reluctantly I let my naked body leave his dressed body and went to the bathroom to do my morning ablutions.

It was a warm day, a very warm day had been promised and having been so dressed up in the castle hotel I was really wound up about wearing loose clothing especially being cooped up in a car for six or seven hours. I chose a singlet and shorts to wear. I could show off lots of muscled flesh wearing just that. I checked myself in the mirror and I looked good. Not as pumped as I liked to be, the wedding had put a stop to my gym activity; I’d have to do some serious exercise the next week, especially if I met up again with him as I really and desperately wanted to do. I returned to the kitchen with my case and towels as Gerren had requested and he stared at me as if he had been hit hard. I still remember what he said to me, that I looked like a film star or a Nordic God. It was funny but that was how I had seen him but refrained from telling him. He took the towels from me and put them into a laundry basket and placed the basket outside near to the front door. I walked out of the kitchen door onto the patio and to the garden to look out at the view of the Atlantic once again. I was very drawn to the clarity of the light and colours, and thought just how fortunate Gerren was to live in such a place. It was so very much more different and interesting than boring Billingshurst. This place had history and the sea which constantly changed and above all, it had the delightful and sexy Gerren.

He called me back, announcing that we’d be leaving in five minutes, and so I returned. My bag was already by the boot of the car together with a few things he was taking to London and I assisted in loading the car. He started the engine and briefly returned to the house to set the alarm, closing the front door with a look of regret and joined me in the car telling me that he always felt regret in leaving the place, as it meant so much to him.

We set off with Gerren telling a little of the start of the journey. We’d call on Geoff and David first at their home and have a coffee. They didn’t know that I was travelling back to London with him so that would be a surprise and then after fuelling up we’d head to Launceston, (he said I think ‘Lanson’) for a bite at the greasy spoon he’d mentioned before and then to London. He’d planned some entertainment for along the way if the conversation dried up. I didn’t think it would but I thought it was considerate of him. At least I was avoiding those chatty inconsequential girls and their boring boyfriends.

It wasn’t too long before we had driven off the main road along a dirt track and were outside Geoff and David's place. Inside we were greeted by a stunned Geoff, who hadn’t seen so much muscled flesh on a man in a few years by the look on his face and loss for words movement of his jaw when he saw me follow Gerren in through the door.  We asked where David was and we got an obtuse reply that he was wonderful. After we asked again, Geoff seemed to have shaken himself out of his wonderment and told us that he was out getting farm supplies. I was shown around the house by Geoff who help staring at my body whilst Gerren made some coffee.

I needed to pee and was going to be taken to the toilet by a goggle-eyed Geoff when I told him I remembered where it was from his tour. It amused me that I heard Geoff tell Gerren that he was a lucky dog and that he was to make sure to keep me. When I returned Geoff actually looked shocked and seemed to be staring directly into my crutch with a wistful look. I found out later from Gerren that he had taken some photo’s of my erection and a video of my body when I fell asleep as he wanted a memory of me in case we never met again and had just shown them to Geoff. I didn’t care about the photo’s and showing them to Geoff but I asked Gerren not to show them off to anyone else.

After we departed, we drove a short way to a garage and whilst Gerren filled up his vehicle I went to the payment centre and paid for all the fuel. Gerren protested but I insisted. He had rescued me from a seven hour bore fest and had given me a much needed comfortable nights sleep.

We drove onto the main road and Gerren asked me for a number between one and one hundred and four. I gave him a random number and he keyed in the number on his sound system and some classical music came on. It was lovely. We chatted over the music for half an hour and the music came to a stop and he asked for a different set of numbers and again he keyed in the number and different but charming classical music came on. It was Mozart he told me, and a Piano Concerto. Gerren has a great love of Baroque and Classical period music, since he was a child and I had noticed his collection of CD’s and music scores in a bookcase in his lounge.

We were near the border with Devon and we pulled over into a wooded layby with a portable café at one end, and we went to order. The chef/owner seemed to know Gerren who asked for his ‘usual’; A large coffee and a sausage, bacon and egg sandwich. I ordered the same but instead of mayonnaise which he ordered I asked for brown sauce, and we walked to a picnic table with our coffees to wait for the delivery of our food. This for me was so much better than the back of a minibus with hardly any room for my long legs.

I noticed a beat-up van arrive with a surfboard tied to the roof. A long-haired surfer type was driving and gave us both a long look as he drove past and parked. He remained in the van, and I noticed that he was using his wing mirrors to look at us. We tidied up our plates and mugs returning them to the chef in his café and I needed to be rid of the coffee we had back at Geoff's place and headed with Gerren to the convenience. Sure enough the hippy-type surfer followed us into the toilets.

We stood at the upright convenience, the type with no segregated barriers, great for showing off your cock and seeing other interesting guys cocks and the guy stands between us. I was peeing freehand, my dick fully open for all to see. I was actually doing it for Gerren, and he was copying me but not standing as far back from the porcelain as I was. The surfer type was cuteish and was obviously staring at my dick as he pulled out his impressive dick which was half hard, and he proceeded to openly jack off, mostly looking at me and taking side glances at Gerren. The guy walked closer to me and reached out to touch my dick and I gave him the brush off. I’d finished peeing and shook it dry and made a fuss of hauling him away, deliberately pushing my butt backwards as if tyring to make room for my dick to get home comfortably. I called over to Gerren. “The problem with getting it all out is trying to get it all back in again”. Gerren smirked at me and walked over to the wash basin to clean up. I stepped to the surfer and took a grab at his nicely muscled bum. “He’s got a tight one”. I called to Gerren and the surfer increased his hand action on his now impressive seven- to eight-inch-thick dick. Again, he tried to grab at my crutch, and I moved his hand away and squeezed his bum harder. “Go on, shoot your load for me”, I encouraged him, “let me see that surfer juice”. He really wanted to please me and was furiously jacking his cock pausing only to pull out his balls. He had a great set of meat and potatoes.

“Let’s see you shoot that load”. I continued and I walked to the washstand and rinsed my hands. He turned to face both of us, and I put my arm protectively around Gerren, giving his neck a small kiss and a deliberate long lick. The surfer moaned and I put on the pressure. “You’ve got twenty seconds to shoot your load, or we’ll leave”. It was no idle threat. He spread his legs open wide and grabbed hold of his balls and moved a pace closer to us and grunted at about fifteen seconds and dumped his load on the floor between his feet. His body was shaking with the force of his orgasm. I stepped up to him and held the dry part of his dick hard. “Clean up that fucking mess. I’ll be back to check if you do. I’ve got your vehicle registration and if you don’t, I’ll report you as a public nuisance”. I used my Army Commanders voice and quoted his vans number to him. I’d made a note of it when we had passed him earlier. I squeezed his dick harder, and I saw the makings of tears in his eyes. I nodded to Gerren to leave, and I walked outside with him back to his car silently. I noticed Gerren smiling and looking at the van’s registration. I had remembered it well. Great Army training.

In the car Gerren burst out laughing. I asked why. “Everything. The brushing away of his hand, you ordering him to shoot and telling him to clear it up and ‘that all out and all back in line’. I could never do it”.

“You were never in the Army were you”? He shook his head. “If you had you’d have heard all sorts of boasts from the men – most of them way over the top”.  I saw the surfer scuttle out of the toilets and drive out of the lay by at half the speed of sound. Still laughing we also left and headed towards London.

I saw Gerren with his hand on the gear stick as he drove and I put my hand over his, but he moved it away though he returned it on top of mine. He needed his hand to be free for driving. On his sound system he played some comedy which was really very funny. I’d never heard of it before, and I asked what it was. “I’m Sorry I haven’t a Clue”. He answered. It had been going for over forty years on the Radio. It was the funniest thing I’d heard and during the next two hours he played episodes of the programme. I laughed so much I was nearly crying. We pulled into a service area to stretch our legs and again we headed into the public conveniences to pee. I was really pissed off when this guy came and stood next to me obviously staring at my dick. I hit him hard with my elbow. I had noticed him checking me out when I entered the toilets. What was worse was him following me to the store when I had volunteered to get a soft drink for Gerren and myself and he was standing behind me in the queue to pay and again when I re-joined Gerren at the car. Did I ever bawl out the guy telling him to piss off. I made a few people turn to see what was going on.  After he had slunk away, I took the chance to ask Gerren another favour. Could I stay the night with him in London? To my delight he said yes but he’d be away by eight thirty to go to work. No problem. I’d have another night with him, and I was so happy inside. The car journey with his choice of music and the comedy had shown another side to him and I liked it so much. During our lunch the day before, he had talked about rowing on the Thames, sailing and kayaking as well as walking his local moors in Cornwall. This man had interests and exercised as well, this was a man I liked, he read music, and like me spoke Portuguese, I had learned in Brazil and Portugal when I worked there, and he had to speak it when in Mozambique. We had fun trying out the language as we drove into London, laughing a lot, and I was feeling so comfortable with him.

As we approached Central London by WestWay, he asked me to get out his parking permit for a road I knew fairly well, in Paddington. His apartment was there. Down the next road and possibly behind Gerren’s apartment lived a great friend of mine, Tom, who had worked with me in the Embassy in Brasilia and was also gay, though much older than me. I usually stayed with him when I wanted to enjoy the nights and lights of London rather than home in Billingshurst. I decided to stay quiet about it but the thought that I had slept only a few yards from where Gerren might have been sleeping intrigued and fascinated me. I wondered if we might have passed each other at some time before but decided that we couldn’t have as I most certainly would have noticed him.

We were lucky to find a parking space for residents only feet away from his apartment building and we took all our luggage into the building. Gerren lived on the middle floor. There was a quiet old lady below him and a young straight couple above him and they were hardly ever there and had never bothered him. The flat was nothing like his home in Cornwall, and I could tell he was just comfortable. Gerren complained about the stink of London and wished he could get back to the Pacific to do his work.  He liked the people, the warmth, and the sea, though he missed Cornwall and his home terribly. It was something he was reconciled to, he told me. He’d never considered a relationship because, home would be in Cornwall, but his work would be overseas, and he’d never go into a relationship leaving someone he loved back in Cornwall where in winter there was next to nothing happening whilst he was away working. He told me that he had let down some great guys because of this, and what made it worse, was a political situation that was preventing him and others where he worked from going back overseas and he was now stuck in a boring office in London, doing next to no work of use, and sneakily working on his doctorate. He was happy with the car for which he had to pay insurance and fuel only and this Central London Apartment which was also free except for household bills.

He was now determined to get out of the job and go back to Cornwall and freelance and work on the doctorate. He got a decent income from the family farm, and he could survive. He was lucky in a way that he had no mortgage and the house in Zennor was all his. No one could take it away from him.

I took all of this in, and it gave me food for thought. I really want to know this lovely caring man. Whilst he was in London, I could see him more or less regularly and become friends and maybe even more than that, but three hundred miles away in Cornwall, that would be a lot more difficult. It was just after five pm and I suggested that I take him out for a meal at a gay restaurant I knew in North London as a thank you treat. I was overjoyed when he agreed, and he pulled me into the smallish bedroom, and we dropped down onto the bed. Slowly we actually made some sort of love, gradually getting naked and very hard with each other. It was tender love and we discussed roles. He was very much a top but had been fucked a few times by some guys he really liked but had rejected being topped by many guys. He was lying on top of me using his knees to relieve me of his weight, and we were face to face, gently kissing each other and he told me, that he would let me fuck him, but couldn’t promise that he’d get off on it with my length and girth. I possibly had the biggest dick he’d seen on a white guy. I stored that info away for a little later.

I asked if he would like to fuck me. Had I ever been fucked before? I told him that like him I had been fucked a few times but not many and that I preferred to fuck guys I had in my bed and to fuck them really hard, and yes, I’d let him fuck me. To reassure him, I told him and more or less promised him that If I fucked him, it would only ever be a gentle and sensitive fuck. He was too nice to hurt. I’d be very happy with contact sex, sucking, rimming and nipple play, and I admitted to a couple of kinks. I liked dirty talk during sex and threesomes and moresomes but only with the right people.

Suddenly he became a little more sparkling, asking me questions. Threesomes? Group sex? I had done that. I admitted it. Had he? Yes, he’d done it a few times and it excited him. He told me that he’d like to see me fuck a hot muscled man and watch, and maybe join in and to share a man or men with him. This set my pulse racing. He said he like to see me really fuck a guy hard, to see my huge body really pumped up and glistening with sweat, and maybe swap and for him to take over the fucking. Now I was liking this sexy side of this handsome man. We could have some really good fun together. I asked about safe sex. He was very serious about it. Totally safe he insisted. Zero risks. He took a lot of time and spent a lot of money on being fit and there was no way he would compromise his health and fitness. He admitted that his only drug of choice was alcohol and that he was lucky as he had a natural alarm in his head that told him he’d had enough. He’d never smoked and the thought of swallowing unknown unprescribed tablets or injecting himself was an anathema to him.  This met my disciplines in life, and I told him so. I turned him over so that I was on top, loving the look in his eyes. “What about porn”? I asked. He spent a lot of his free time alone and so he had some porn that he watched to get off sometimes and with an extra twinkle in his eye he admitted jacking off to a porn video the afternoon after he had first saw me in St Ives.

I was delighted to hear it and called him a “dirty minded pig”. Well, he had to, he claimed. After the accident, I had run away so fast from the scene that by the time he had recovered his thoughts I had disappeared. He had looked for me. Shit. I also had looked back for him. We could have got together even earlier.

Gerren told me that if he had left the shop only a couple of seconds later, we would never have met. I agreed but pointed out that we did see each other in the restaurant later that evening and so we would have met, eventually. He pulled my head to his and kissed me passionately. He was so pleased we had met.  I had made his trip home a wonderful one. Despite my reservations about the wedding, I eventually had a great trip to Cornwall. Gerren impressed me. Here was this lovely handsome man under me smiling at me, opening up himself and explaining reservations, but all the time stroking my face, putting his hands through my hair, checking out my muscled arms and back and squeezing my butt, with our erections rubbing against each other’s and enjoying it and I just wanted to swallow him whole. All of him; I wanted all of his being to be consumed by me and to know what it was like to be him.

Gerrens reservations were very similar to mine in many respects. I’d never wanted to be tied down in a relationship and kept my sexual partners to a very small number, and I told him so. My reluctance had come about I supposed to being in the Army and nervous of being outed. I’d never been asked about my sexuality, nor had I given anyone a clue that I was gay or hoped that I hadn’t. Sex during my time in the army was negligible and never with any of my Army colleagues. It was only when I was an attaché in Brazil that I had good sex with men but never in the city. Rio and Sao Paulo were where I had my sex and I had a brief affair with a couple of guys, but they were dumped as soon as I was transferred. As far as I knew only one colleague in the embassies, I worked in knew I was gay and that was my good friend Tom, almost twice my age and also gay.

I was really drawn to Gerren and wanted to show it. I was already of the mind that he was something special and if as he had said he wanted to leave London and go to work again in the Pacific or go back to Cornwall then I still wanted to stay in contact with him.

He was still below me and I was checking out his body and we were talking about the types of men we liked. He told me of his seven H’s. Hot, Horny, Handsome, Healthy, Hunky, Honest and Hung, but not necessarily in that order. I liked that so much, and I asked how many of the seven I had. He made a show of thinking about it bringing his fingers in front of me and went through each category humming and harring about each.

Hung was easy, he told me, He reached down and held my dick for a moment, I was rock hard. Horny was good, and so was Healthy and Hunky. I breathed out a sigh of relief; four out of seven was a majority. I was definitely Handsome which made me Hot he said, so now that was six out of seven, I was so enthralled by his display that I had forgotten the seventh H. This time he made a more sincere look. Number seven was Honest. He deliberated in his head some more. “Honest”, he said, “Well that’s the one that takes more time, but I’m inclined to say a yes”. Phew, seven out of seven. Suddenly he reached down to my waist and started tickling me. Normally I’m not ticklish but he caught me unawares and I burst out laughing and he shifted his weight and turned me over, landing on top of me as I cried with laughter. “You’d better be honest otherwise I’d have to call on the spirits of the pixies, fairies, goblins and Giants of Cornwall to destroy you”. This time I laughed in surprise, he looked very serious. “You don’t believe in all that stuff, do you?”

“I’m Cornish”, he told me, “of course I do. It’s the spirits that brought us together”. He closed his eyes as if in prayer, a prayer of thanks and re-opened his sexy grey eyes looking down on me with the deepest sincerity and I kissed him. I was so taken by this man it was unbelievable and did he ever respond. His tongue darting in and out of my mouth, titillating my tongue and fighting my invasion of his mouth, a big wet juicy kiss that made me respond even more to his responses. 

I lifted him up off of me and went for his nipples with my mouth. He has an amazing chest and arms with penny sized and slightly raised nipples that I licked and kissed and bit gently. Gerren was trying to get down to me to tease my nipples but I held him up above me so he couldn’t reach with his mouth, that didn’t stop him from using his hands and he grabbed hold of mine hard, twisting them and giving some delightful pain that also hit my balls.

He bent down to kiss me gently on my lips and he kept our lips touching and brushed them side to side and our noses rubbed together. For the first time I actually smelt his pheromones. That musky, manly smell that was coming from his neck. It was instantly attractive. Gerren was only partially covering my body with his, but I was moved enough to pull him down on top of me and return his gentle kisses with a longer more passionate kiss. He responded quickly, kissing my neck with hundreds of tiny pecks which excited me. My heart raced and my head was urging him to take that lead I so much wanted him to do. He was rubbing his crotch into mine. I reached down to hold his buttocks and I strengthen my grip to pull him down tighter to me. I could feel his erection again. I had no doubt in my mind that he was excited by me. He was grinding into me harder and harder and must have been responding to my erection which was now leaking.

I was now so full of desire for him.

Then he blurted out,

“Go on make me feel good”.

I instantly responded “Yes, yes, I’ll make you feel the most wanted ever. Tell me what you want from me.”

The grinding continued, and he was now almost possessively kissing me. I reached up to hold his arms feeling his biceps and the hardness of them gripping them tight. He reached down between our bodies and grabbed careful hold of my now soaking cock and started to manipulate me. He had a perfect grip and he wanked me. As he jacked me, I could feel the movement of his bicep in my hand, and I was immensely turned on by this. I moaned out to him that I loved his muscle. In response he pumped up both his biceps. I was thrown into a further state of passion by this. He was still grinding against my belly. It was strange that I was feeling excited by his hardness, length, and thickness although I wasn’t holding him. I throbbed my cock in his hand, indicating to him how excited I was by him. He adjusted his position and took his own cock in his hand with mine, jacking us both. 

I could feel his hard cock urethra against mine as his hand gripped both our cocks. He was on top of me his body looking big, smooth, muscled, and sexy above me. I reached up to play hard with his nips again. His eyebrow narrowed visibly as I twisted them hard, but I felt his cock spasm as I did so. Again, I noticed his grey eyes, and the strangeness of the colour for the first time. They really suited his complexion and I couldn’t recall ever seeing grey eyes in a lover before. His grip hardened the more I worked hard with his nips pulling them, squeezing them, twisting them harder and harder. Not only did his grip hardened on both our throbbing hard cocks, but his chest pumped up as I worked his nipples more eagerly. The stroking rate increased wildly and now Gerren’s breathing deepened. I knew that I had made contact to his balls via his nipples. To try to excite his balls more I throbbed my cock in his hand. That did it. He called out to me.

“Stephen, I’m coming, come with me at the same time.” I made a supreme effort to try to come with him. He orgasmed all over me, his come flying as it did previously all over my body, face, and hair and beyond. This man could orgasm for Britain. I could feel his shots of come passing through his piss tube against mine. Six, Seven, eight, nine spurts of come I could feel making its way out through his cockhead. It felt marvellous. I was so surprised by the extremity of his orgasm that as he was coming to the end of his, I shot my load too. My cum mixing with his all over my torso and face. His face was one of supreme lust as I shot my load. His hand still jacking off both our engorged cocks.

Keeping his grip on both our cocks he fell onto me, both our wet loads now covering his amazing frame and mine. He kissed me passionately ignoring the fact that my lips were covered with our come. His breathing slowing down as he relaxed from the intensity of his orgasm. As we kissed, I held his head to mine. I was happy for what had happened but was thinking that we still hadn’t fucked. In some ways I was disappointed, but I was also happy that we still had that pleasure to come, I hoped. The truth was that we were both just as over excited sexually with each other, cumming was so easy. One thing was for sure. If we didn’t couple, I was going to be one hell of a disappointed man.

It was more than an hour before we were ready to go out to eat. Most of the time was spent together naked in each other’s arms passing small talk except for when we showered. I was so incredibly happy that this gorgeous handsome man had allowed me to stay with him and not rejected my request to stay overnight. He was as far as I was concerned already a man to dream of.  I wanted to be able to freely approach him, to touch him and for him to touch me to kiss me and accept my kisses, and to cuddle up to. For us to be able to sit down with and relax and just talk, for us to be seen together and for me to be seen with him. I was so overwhelmed that he liked my being in contact with him. The sex so far had been quite ordinary and nothing really exciting, but I was just so happy to be with this man, even though he was shorter than me.

His allowing me to hold his hand when driving, our arms around each when we were walking the moors back in Cornwall was very pleasing. His kisses were warm, passionate, and thrilling. I hoped that he didn’t think I was using him, to get out of the hotel and the free lift back to London and my request to stay overnight. I had really wanted to be with him. He had been very gracious and understanding about my falling asleep on him the first time, and I liked him so much for it and the trouble he seemed to have taken preparing that lunch for me as well. I wondered what he thought about me, he certainly had the hots for me, but then so many guys had in the past, but he was different. Guys usually came onto me; this time it hadn’t happened; we sort of came together by happenchance. I liked the fact that we were similar in many ways, and that he was different. He obviously had a great sense of humour and had a love for music and was clever. I’d never met any man working for a doctorate and had travelled the world like he had, and also seemed to have the respect of his local community whilst being openly gay to them. Then there were his looks, his body, his butt, his dick, fucking huge on his body; what would he be like if and when we fucked? What a combination of a man.

Gerren broke me out of my reverie, reminding me that we were supposed to be going out. We showered and changed, and I took him to a gay restaurant in North London that I knew and was formerly a leather bar with a dungeon and dark room below where the kitchen was now. We were in a quiet corner but were looked at by a number of other customers but our eyes, it seemed were on each other. When I told him of the restaurants past, he revealed to me that he had been to a leather bar in Amsterdam and spoke of a couple of very funny and very interesting things that had happened when he was there, that had me laughing, and he mentioned that he liked my voice. I liked his soft Cornish accent, so pleasant compared to Geordie, Brum, Scouse and Ulster voices that I was more used to from my Army days.

It was great to be with him eating out and back at his place in Paddington, He set about preparing for his weeks work with more classical music on in the background. I asked what it was, and he told me it was Bach - Bach always had a way or ordering his mind, as complex as it could be sometimes. We slept naked again on top of the bed, this time with him cuddled up to me, his head on my shoulder and an arm across my chest and a led across my thighs. I had my arm around his hard muscled back supporting him. Sleep came easy.

I woke up with a super hard on needing desperately to pee. Gerren was still clinging onto me and so I had to gently move him off of me. Seeing him naked on the bed did nothing to lessen my erection and I stood at the bowl for a couple of minutes wishing it down so I could pee. What didn’t help was Gerren standing in the doorway naked with a hard on staring at mine and asking if I was doing to pee on the ceiling and laughing at me. What did help was his threatening to get an ice tray from his freezer. As I eventually peed, he called to say he was making breakfast, toast, cheese and cereal, tea or coffee he called out. It was all he had. I accepted ordering coffee, and he told me to shower as he prepared the meal. Yet again I was at the table with him naked, and it seemed so natural to be with him in that state. He scuttled around the rooms and to my delight accepted to come down to my place for a weekend with me without any thought. I promised him a weekend together naked all the time and he came to me at the table standing next to me and leaned down to kiss me, his cock rubbing against my bicep, deliciously. I was happy, I was going to see this gorgeous man and have him all to myself for two or three nights. This time I wanted us to fuck. I was determined.

Before too long we were outside his apartment, me with my bags from the wedding in Cornwall and him with his briefcase/laptop bag. As the taxi drove away, I looked back out of the window and saw him wave. I smiled to myself. I’d found someone special; I was sure of it.

Gerren came to stay the next weekend and the following weekend I surprised even myself by taking the sleeper train to Penzance to surprise him back at his home. I couldn’t get the handsome sexy Cornishman out of my mind and now, just over seven years later, we are married and living in what is now our home near the lovely quiet village of Zennor.