Don't get me amiss, I've nothing against disco ; it's just that, never having been blessed with outstanding undecomposed looks, sinew or kit ‘ n lot, it was always obvious to me that I would seldom be the one ‘ picked-up ’. If there was any ‘ picking-up'to do, it would throw to be done by me. It's not that I'm ugly or anything ; I'm just ‘ ordinary'and the problem I had to overcome was one of shyness, lack of confidence and the care of rejection.

I was on one of my visit to Liverpool, one of my favourite metropolis in the UK and one for which I have long had a kitschy affection. The people are sometimes a little wayward, in a cheeky, loveable way but they are so favorable and I never feel at risk walking the metropolis streets late at night - even though, perhaps I should not be so naive.

It's always more fun to be ‘ naughty'when you're on holiday, rather than on your home turf, so this evening I decided to go against my usual instincts by hitting the bars and clubs. At the low bar I tried, it was far too other in the eve and there was very little happening. There were a few guys there but they were all with friends, each in their own lilliputian ‘ cliques'strategically scattered about the spot. Why do so many guys go out with their friends, hoping to pull a complete stranger ? Don't they realise how it puts mass like me off approaching them ? I mean, if I'm not overflowing with confidence, I'm not going to put on the line multiple abasement by being given the brush-off in figurehead of 2 or 3 of his mates, am I ! Maybe the friends are a defence they can hide behind when they want to, only to emerge on ‘ the hunt'when they see a worthy prey ?

Whatever, eventually this young guy comes into the bar - on his own - and aside from his myopic ginger pilus, which is not my usual turn-on, he is what I would predict ‘ my type'; mid-twenties, not too tall, lightly built, clean-shaven, impertinent dresser, wearing a White short-sleeved shirt and snuggly fitting jeans, providing a none-too-discreet touch of a gibbosity, set slightly to his left. Then, blast ! He sees two other guy rope by the bar who he obviously knows well and he starts talking to them. I remain against the paries on the other side of the floor, observing from the shadows.

I can't take my heart off him, he's so cute, even with ginger tomentum ! ( By the way, I'm being ‘ ironic'here because, actually, I have ginger hair too ! ) But I notice there was no fondling or affectionate hugs when he greeted his friends. He talks animatedly, laughing and joking, and I love his crook smile. I also admire the visibility of his jeans as he shifts his exercising weight from one hip to the other, accentuating his bubble-butt, as well as that nicely rounded bulge up front. But suddenly the humor changes and he clasps his hand to his side and I see blood trickling through his finger's breadth ! He's having a nose-bleed ; just like that !

Quick as a flashbulb, I'm across the flooring and I'm putting my arm around his articulatio humeri, saying to him,"trustingness me, I'm a doc !"and before his Paraguay tea know what's happening, I take restraint and travel him towards the bar, catch a pile of table napkin and put a smattering of ice-cubes in the middle and tell him to put his head back while I gently place the sang-froid compress over his brow and the bridge of his nose.

Just to be absolved, I'm no doctor, in face you're wondering. In fact, I've never been employed in any capacity within the medical professing, although I did work the telephone patchboard once, when first left school. So I don't really know what came over at that moment but it's interest how, when someone is taken ill or has an accident, they become completely subservient to anyone who takes ascendence in a commanding way. On this occasion, this applied just as much to his mates as it did to him, because they soon slunk off to another piece of the bar and left us to it. Some protagonist they turned out to be !

The bare process of physical contact and his helplessness I found gave me an aching hard-on in my own blue jean. As I ministered to him, holding his head and cleaning the stray bloodline from around his nozzle and cheek, one of his hands strayed behind me and gently rested on my waist ; still looking up at the ceiling clutching my improvised ice-pack, he was only steadying himself but it all gave me that tactual sensation of ‘ butterflies'in the pit of my tum, as my cock began oozing pre-cum into my white cotton briefs.

He told me his gens was Sean and he was a primary school teacher, teaching 8-9 year-olds ; exclusive, living on the Wirral ( across the river from Liverpool ) and had come to town for some fun. After I had sorted out his nose-bleed, he bought me a boozing and we had a good chat for three tail of an hour, while I gazed into his pale grey eyes, so unusual for one with powdered ginger hair, I thought at the time. I began wondering what colour his pubic hair was, as I noticed the dilation of his pupils as we talked. It made me think I might have ‘ copped off'nice and early ! But then he said,

"I hope you don't think I've been leading you on, mate, but I'm not ready to go home with anyone yet. Besides, it's much too ahead of time ; I wan na try the disco music later and see what's happening."

well, of course that pretty very much burst my balloon ! The dribbling erection torture in my denim instantly began to go hobble and I thought,"distinctive ! Just my bloody chance !"

So we parted on the intimately of damage ; he went his way and I went mine.

I called in at another bar and enjoyed another drink while there happened to be a rather skilful drag act going on. Then I wandered up to that part of township where most of the good discotheque nine are. It was now past tense 11pm and I figured that the sun had gone down at to the lowest degree 4 hours ago, so the natives should all be out on the prowl by now !

I was right. Inside it was in use ; busy enough for people to be anon. and to get lost if they wanted to. I'm a useless disco music social dancer, so there was no point me making a fool of myself on the dance storey. Instead, I stuck to my best-loved daub by wall opposite the bar. Then I saw him, Sean. I hadn't seen him come in but he was leaning against the other wall next to the bar about forty feet away, lager beer in hand, scanning the sensible horizon, as you do. I thought,"Shall I go over and say hello ?"but he had not been concerned enough earlier, so I decided against it. I was sealed he had seen me, so if he changed his brain, he knew where I was. The idea of being a"date of lastly resort"didn't bother me ; after all, pride was a lavishness I couldn't afford !

acerate leaf to say, we both spent the next hour or more ‘ eyeing the natural endowment ’, each barely moving from our respective vantage-points and each making no touch. I had finally raised the courage-level and resolved to go over and talk to him when a dispatch stranger moved-in, engaging him in conversation and I was thwarted !

I was eking-out my drink by this time ; I had already had more than than enough and it was now getting late. Then the stranger just wandered off and Sean was on his own again. I stood here ; he stood there. We kept looking at each other.
I downed the hold up drop-off of my drink and headed for the end of the bar right by where Sean was standing. I put my glass on the bar, as if to order another drunkenness, and I turned my head casually towards him.

"Are you waiting for someone in particular ?"I asked.

There was a pause, as he turned towards me. He put his lager beer on the bar.

"Yeah,"he said,"you, you idiot !"

In no time at all, we were on the sofa in the restrained sofa, snogging like billy-o ; his backtalk were moist and delicious and his candy kiss tasted of mickle and lager, as our clapper feverishly explored one another. His hands were everywhere but mostly they were in my crotch, which was becoming quite damp from all the pre-cum now flowing again. Meanwhile, I couldn't keep on my own hired man off his lovely soft face and his unforesightful spikey tomentum, which was the same colour mine used to be when I was a kid, vivid peppiness. In the reduce igniter of the sofa, his picket skin colour and his declamatory blanch gray-headed center seemed to emphasise the dark of his now heavily dilated pupils and I decided it was time to postulate bang again.

But as we stepped outside, we discovered it was pouring with rain ; water ran like the rapids across the uneven pavement past the club doorway as we discussed whether or not to get a taxi. But it was summer and still warm, and as my hotel was not far away, we decided to make a dash for it. needle to say, we both got soaked in no time as we darted from threshold to doorway but as we sheltered momentarily under an sunblind, I caught the first glimpse of Sean's soaking-wet white shirt, clinging transparently to his trimness body, showing in the street lights his rippled heftiness and the midget bumps of his proud mamilla. Impulsively, I grabbed his shank and pulled him toward me and as our organic structure merged, we kissed again, in wax view of passer-by. Our tomentum dripping down our faces, and our denim impenetrable and stuck to our leg, we were immersed in a drivel exchange of knife and heavy breathing as we heard a passing straight dyad cry out from under their umbrella as they ran by,

"Wehey ! Go to it boys !"That's what I love about Liverpool !

Back at my hotel, we had barely closed the threshold of my elbow room when this fourth dimension it was Sean's turn to seize hold of me. His hired hand seemed to be everywhere and as he began undoing the push button of my own wet shirt, I cradled his pin-up soft, wet, dripping facial expression in my workforce as we kissed again and again with an increasing sentience of phrenetic urging. We were both horny as hell and desperate for one another's eubstance. Having removed our shirts, we at last enjoyed that thrilling wizard of warm bodily contact ; skin against skin, as our script explored each other's weaponry, shoulders, back, bureau and nipples. I noticed that, whereas I have very picayune consistency hair, the top of his chest was peppered with minuscule, piano Robert Floyd Curl Jr. of pale gold.

We tried to continue undressing each other but our jeans were so wet and toilsome, they clung tightly to our bodies and, in the end, we each had to peel-off our own jeans until they fell into a sodden mess on the story and we each stood together like naughty peppiness twins, both in dampness Patrick White cotton wool briefs and soaking-wet white socks.

As he took off his wind cone, I pushed him backwards onto the bed and he laughed as he fell into the soft embrace of the duvet. I leapt on top of him, pinning his arms above his principal, as our Jockey shorts pressed against one other and we each felt the hardness of each other's erections. He writhed beneath my weight as I kissed him again and he moaned as I ground my body into his.

Releasing his pinned blazonry, I slid down his organic structure, between his legs and as I buried my face into the groin of his mute white briefs and stroked the soft position of his trim back waist with my manus, he gently let out a contented suspiration and just lay there, enjoying my exploration of his body. Unlike the soft, prosperous whisker of his upper chest, his belly was hairless, apart from a tiny treasure-trail of hairs below his belly-button ; these were of a darker gold, becoming powdered ginger, as they disappeared into the cincture of his White River underpants. Lightly, I stroked the position of his torso with my fingers and discovered one of his many erogenous zone ; he inhaled deeply and moaned. I kissed his sides, just above his thigh pearl, first one side and then the other. With each candy kiss, his legs and consistence squirmed and writhed in ecstasy.

Sliding further down between his peg, I nuzzled into the profoundness of his warm groyne and inhaled his musky perfume, a mixture of man-sweat, damp rainfall and the feint breath of a discreet cologne. His second joint were peppered with tiny voiced curls which I licked and kissed, before moving on to lick and preference and suck at his throbbing manhood, still constrained by the dampness white cotton of his briefs.

I love sucking and teasing a man through his underwear. I've always found that unusually aphrodisiac and as I tasted, sucked and teased him, I became more aware of his gift, somewhat swell than mine, and what was in store for me later !

I finally lowered the waist-band of his Jockey shorts and his glut tool sprang devoid from a duncish nest of blue ginger hair. It lay throbbing against his stomach, the ancestry pumping eagerly into every vessel, as it grew before my center and his glistening cock-head emerged from beneath its uncut covering, to reveal its throbbing pink helmet, oozing a lilliputian blob of pre-cum. As my tongue touched his pecker, it seemed to spring towards me, desperate to be sucked. But I just flicked lightly at it with my natural language, tasting his pre-cum for the low gear time ; a salty sweet and a hope for later.

Instead, hastily throwing off my own briefs, I crouched between his legs and focussed my attention around the floor of his penis, where his testicles lay amidst a thick bed of dark powdered ginger hair, themselves just lightly covered in mild ringlet of contrasting amber, like two gilt nut in a nest. As I gazed at them, they rolled and churned before my centre, as if something was alive inside, about to be ‘ hatched ’. Gently, I took each of his musket ball into my mouth one by one, rolling them around my tongue, as I listened to him groaning contentedly, revelling in the pleasure. Then, releasing his orchis and raising myself onto my knees between his flaccid second joint, I took his organ in one hired hand and brought it forward to my lips, as I licked more pre-cum from its tip and tasted its slippery saltiness, then blew softly on it, holding it and admiring its upright thrilling, throbbing class. Slowly, I lowered my mouth over the glistening helmet and gently closed my lips over it, finally enveloping it in the mild wet warmth of my mouth. At this I felt Sean draw a penetrative intake of hint as he arched his back slightly and his chest of drawers rose from the bed, his mouth gasping in cristal, while his head thrashed from incline to side.

"Oh - Jesus !"he whispered,"That is so sound !"

Going down on his delicious pecker, I now realized that, even though we were of standardized build, he was considerably estimable endowed than me and I was actually experiencing some difficultness ; my jaw was being stretched to its limit as my nuzzle sank lower, towards his pubic hair and I inhaled his musky odor. I had never actually ‘ deep-throated'a guy before but the thrill of having his soundbox in my hands, clearly enjoying every import, was driving me on to hold on. But his hammer was so wooden-headed. It was difficult to maintain my tooth from touching its light beam, as I rose up and down on him, sucking for all I was Worth, rolling my spit around the tip and then going down on him again. But every time I did so, he would lift his pelvis, thrusting up at me ; his hands were either side of meat of my forefront and as his thick dick pushed into the vertebral column of my throat, his workforce would labour me strong down onto him, blocking my airway, causing me to gag and cough, as more and Sir Thomas More salty pre-cum oozed into my lip. It was then that I noticed a"clunk"in my jaw and a slight painfulness in one ear ; I didn't quite realise it at the time but my jaw had been stretched so far it had dislocated ! My optic were watering and there was saliva and dribble everywhere ; but I had him and I wasn't letting go !

My other manus, meanwhile, was gently playing with his ball-sack, tickling and teasing his breakwater towards his hind end. As my fingerbreadth played around his hole, I felt his wooden leg part in boost. Glad of the opportunity of resting my aching jaw, I now lifted up his legs and his bottom, moving forward to stick out his spine as I now sank my face under his balls and into the depth of his arse-crack, only lightly peppered with blind drunk, dark curls and smelling strongly of stew, musk and cologne. My tongue entered his hole in teasing geographic expedition and he let out a gasp,

"Oh fuck, yes ! I love that !"

My nose was now buried beneath his clump, those two ‘ golden testicle ’, inhaling the scents of his body, as my lingua probed and played in and around his anus, while my hand grasped his unanimous putz, pulling his foreskin back and forth across its swell up head. He was clearly in ecstasy.

"Ohhhh, fucking ; ohhhhh fucking !"he pleaded,"I'm gon na cum if you carry on like that !"

I lifted his backside higher and paused momentarily,

"Don't let me stop you !"I murmured, before continuing my treble assault of this, his virtually private dead body territory. Sucking and licking feverishly around his anus, my spit darted in and out of his golf hole, while my hand masturbated his aching electric organ, now pointing down towards his own nerve. His head was cranked forward under the weight of his up-turned eubstance and his boldness was crushed and flushed promising pink, as the Wave of orgasm began exploding inside his body.

"Oh jack !"I heard him moan through clench teeth, as my tongue felt the sensory faculty of his throbbing perineum, telling me that his cum was at cobbler's last pumping from his two ‘ gold eggs ’, through his jetty towards his putz. Time seemed to slow down as my paw felt the tell-tale throbbing in his organ as his cum erupted from his peter and shot down in a longsighted stream across his face. He closed his middle tight shut and grimaced, as his thick, white cum remorselessly spurted across his mouth, his olfactory organ, his oculus, splattering his face in gobs of the gluey white goo as he gasped in torment, while my tongue still felt his perineum throbbing his continuing orgasm.

My heart was racing with excitement. Not only had I had never done this to a guy before but he was thoroughly into it. Throughout all this, my own tool had maintained its solidity and had been constantly dribbling pre-cum everywhere ; it was even down his back, as my electronic organ was now pressed hard against his backbone, holding him upright piano on the bed.

Releasing my grip of him, I allowed him to roll back down and collapse flat tire on the bed again, as he moaned in run through pleasure and relief. His centre were still clasped shut and his cheek streaked with his own cum as I lay on top of him, pressing my hard dribbling tool alongside his and once again, pinning him to the bed under my weight.

Before he could cleanse the cum from his eyes, I now began licking his face, savouring the slightly bitterness but piquant taste of his cum, as I gently washed his face with my natural language and he grimaced, one-half in fun and half in torment at what I was doing. I never realised how much I would enjoy this !

The slippery lubrication of my own pre-cum between our organic structure, the feeling of his still slightly swollen ( and even now, much larger ) organ between us, and the perceptiveness of his cum, cleaned from his face, were all now too much for me. I went to kiss him and he threw himself into me in one last, retentive passionate kiss. Once again, our oral fissure became as one and our hot natural language caressed and played together, as my sexual climax erupted from my inside and my organic structure shuddered. I clasped and grasped at his shoulders and I came in a series of agonizing, aching bursts of my own cum into the slippery gap between our body, slithering and sliding about over his stomach, as the cum ran down the sides of his body onto the duvet and we both lay together, exhausted.

The following break of the day, I think we were both still so exhausted from the night before that we each seemed content to just lie in each other's arms, gently caressing each former and kissing occasionally. He got up to use the bathroom first and I watched his defenseless body, as he padded across the room. In the daytime, I now saw that he had such a cunning undersurface ; pale and hairless, tight and dimpled, below a trim waist - almost a boy's waist and yet…..

As I lay there, still turning over the thrilling case of our nighttime of love, I yawned and felt my jaw go"clunk"again. There was no pain, as such ; I just knew it wasn't right wing and it bothered me. I've tried various remedy over the eld and even consulted specialists about it but I never actually told any of them about how it started. It's not painful but it still does it today, a permanent reminder of Sean, my only ever night-club seduction !