Dishevelled Encounter

Online gay hook up sights are a godsend. Without them many bi-curious guys, such as myself, might not have been able to explore our 'curious' side.
Lacking, as we might, the knowledge, opportunity and plain courage to at least try the delights of man on man fun if it were to entail actual effort or not presented to us by happenstance in some unexpected lucky encounter.

It's how I got into this lifestyle anyway.

The drawback is, of course, that you can have too much of a good thing.
Your standards slip. You take risks. Were you were cautious and jumpy at first, you become lackadaisical and careless in your growing quest for cock.

A meeting you may have baulked at - or at least been wary of - at the start, you hurtle yourself into without as much as a 'by your leave' or 'devil take the hindmost' and other old sayings about being reckless and, frankly, stupid.

You find yourself in a situation that you might regret for the rest of your life. Or, if you're lucky, at the very least cause consternation and alarm at the time.

This is the true tale of one of those types of encounters. Fortunately for me, the latter type rather than the former.

It was a few years ago and I arranged to hook up with a guy on an online app who didn't live far from me.

I'd never met with him before.
He asked if we could meet on the corner of his street, which was fine, I was a total stranger going to his house so this made sense if he wanted to check me out first.

The street we were to meet at was in a quite well to do area of nice detached houses.

So I was a little surprised at the appearance of the man who approached me, as I stood a bit self consciously in the darkening dusk, and asked if I was the name I'd given him. I never use my real name.
He wasn't exactly what he had advertised.

For one, he was a good deal older than the mid 40s his profile said he was. He appeared to be a decade older at least. The same age as me.

He also didn't appear to be typical of the area in that he was scruffy. Not absolutely boggin' or unsanitary but unkempt.

But I was on a drought and had been with a lot worse. I just wanted to fuck.

Unfortunately there was mounting horror as I walked with him down the darkening street, as he informed me that we had to be very quiet when entering the house as, not only did he still live with his elderly parents who were currently in situ, but that they were at that very minute entertaining the local minister to some tea and biscuits.

By this time we'd reached the gate of his driveway which he was gingerly opening so as not to squeak.

I could see the light behind the mercifully drawn curtains of the living room where his folks were gassing with the clergyman.

For some reason, probably horniness, I was still carrying on with this ridiculous charade.

So we tippy toed down the driveway to the door and before he inserted the key he whispered to me to go straight up the stairs as quietly and quickly as possible and go to the first room on the left at the top of them.

Then he opened the front door, stuck his head around the door to check the hallway was clear and ushered me hurriedly in and up the stairs.

I could hear the muffled talking from the living room as we crept up to the bedroom. I was now almost giddy with nerves and honestly stifling an urge to giggle.

Here we were two rather portly middle aged men, desperate for each others cock, flitting illicitly up the stairs like two horny teenagers.

As I got to the top of the stairs just in front of him, I almost shit myself when a clear if aged female voice came from the doorway of the living room - thankfully just out of view below -, "Dennis?! Is that you?"

He just shoved me into his darkened room and mouthed "Wait!" & then replied, "Yes mum, I just popped out to get some fags." Which wasn't really a lie if you think about it. 

"Well come on down and say hello to the Reverend."

He silently shooed me deeper into his dim room with his hands, again mouthed 'Wait there' and went down to pay his respects to the God botherer.

I turned and got a look at the darkened room properly for the first time, lit only by the light of a TV in the corner.

Where the rest of the house seemed well kept and clean, if a little dated in decor, it was very typical of the house of a reasonably prosperous elderly couple, this bedroom, or what I could make out of it in the flickering gloom, appeared to be a bit of a tip.

I realised that I was standing on an old, and thankfully empty, pizza box just lying on the floor. I could just about make out piles of discarded clothes also strewn on the floor, a stack of used plates and cutlery sitting on a chair and a couple of reasonably neatly stacked but unsteady looking piles of magazines. I don't know what the magazines were but I doubted they were pornos.

And there dominating the bedroom was where our magic was presumably going to happen, a king sized bed.

Of course the bedclothes were in a state, duvet and sheets crumpled and not fitted properly so I could just see the corner of an exposed mattress in the murk, and two large yellow pillows that I frankly didn't want to contemplate on too much. God knows what they were harbouring.

Now your probably thinking, 'Why the fuck were you still there?!'

And you'd be right.

And I had to almost superhumanly repress a panicked urge to bolt for it as I had quickly and sensibly realised that there was no way of leaving undetected.
The sight of a strange man lolloping down the stairs and out the front door of their home would be upsetting to the poor elderly couple to say the least.

Police would probably be called. And their very own darling Dennis was hardly going to fess up to smuggling in a complete stranger for some sucky fucky.

So it was stay put and just go through with it and hope for the best.

He very soon came back up the stairs and into the room.

He squeezed past me. I was still standing there bemused and I have to admit more than a little turned on.

He turned up the volume on the TV, presumably to hide any noise of the upcoming fuck, turned to face me and then in a flash we were on each other.

All the pent up nerves and sexual frustration of the previous barren months exploded in an overwhelming desire to fuck this balding, chunky untidy looking man.

We fell, well not fell exactly, more crumpled, onto his dump of a bed. Locked at the mouth and pawing amateurishly at each other.

For a smoker his breath was fresh and sweet. He'd obviously refrained from smoking for at least a few hours and been madly crunching away on some mints prior to our encounter.
I know I did.
And I don't even smoke.

After a little of this unseemly entanglement we stopped, stood and stripped naked and resumed our embrace, guts and cocks pressing together delightfully.

He instructed me to fuck him. All no nonsense and straight to the point.
He went to his bedside cabinet and grabbed a sachet of lube and his phone and handed them to me then bent himself over the end of the bed.

The lube I knew what to do with but the phone?

'What's this for?' I asked.

'I want you to film us fucking .'

Think again, Bucko, I thought. I just wanted to blast my baby batter inside him and then, somehow, fuck off home.

So I immediately ignored his request and just put the phone on the bed, lubed my now hard cock and then his hole and guided myself in to him.

I started banging away. Fiercely.
I knew this wasn't going to last long, a minute or two at the most.

Both of us were moaning and groaning most satisfyingly. Thankfully the noise of Emmerdale or Coronation Street, or whatever it was on the telly, disguised our racket.

He stopped his moaning, the only sound now being the TV and the rhythmic slap of my groin hitting his backside and asked , 'You getting good video of this?'

I'd completely forgotten my role as cinematographer. 'Er, no,' I replied, 'I dropped the phone. sorry.' A little white lie.


He seemed a little annoyed at this, 'Aw pity.'
'Hold on,' I sighed, a little pissed off myself now. I had been getting into a rhythm and going great guns getting close to vinegar strokes and he wanted me to be Martin Scorcese.

I paused my banging, still inside him and my cock positively twitching in him in frustration and looked around for his bloody phone.

And couldnt see it.

It must have actually fallen on the floor and I couldn't see it in the dimness or it was under the crusty bedclothes which had covered it while we fucked.

I didn't fancy reaching among those sheets very much. But did spy my jeans, which I must have discarded in a hurry in the dark, lying over the side of the bed just about within reach.

'I can't see your phone,' I told him, 'But I'll use mine.'

Whether this was okay for him, I don't know, but it was all he was getting.

So I bent over him to reach my jeans and pull them towards me - and felt his ass clench wonderfully on my cock as I did so and almost blew my load - then awkwardly pulled my phone from my pocket, and fumbling like a twat, managed to set it to video.

Holding the phone in one hand and his hip in the other, I resumed my pounding a little more angrily than before. And got about 15 to 20 seconds of jerky, ill lit footage of my cock going in and out of his ass.





But I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I threw my own phone down on the bed, grabbed his other hip with my now free hand and very satisfyingly gave two or three more mighty strokes into him and with a deep groan pulsed my load as far inside him as I could.

I now noticed that throughout all this that he'd been wanking himself.
And for ten or so extra seconds as I stood covering him, panting and sweating with exhaustion and catching my breath, feeling my spent cock starting to soften still inside him, he furiously came to his own climax, with an alarming and loud moose like groan. Which almost drowned out whoever the fuck is on Coronation Street these days and had me hoping his mum and dad were as deaf as they were old.

He then crumpled on to the bed - and on to his own jizz, adding to the pollution on that wanking pit - taking me with him. Though I popped out dripping cum in the process.

And we both lay there in a wheezy sweaty heap of naked flesh. Me on top of him.

Well as you know as soon as we men have emptied our bags, our first thought is homewards and as quickly as possible. With possibly a stop for a kebab on the way.

I crawled backwards off him and started looking around the grim chamber for my clothes.

Happily he was of similar mind and seemed to want to get me out and away ASAP.

He went over to a dressing table and pulled out some wet wipes to clean my cum out of him (oh my boys! ?) and threw me the rest of the pack to wipe myself down with.

When wiping my cock I noticed it was clean and there was no smell, so he had had the decency to prepare.

This was something I hadn't even given any thought to before in my lust and frustration. You'll have noticed that I went in bareback too.

Another few wet wipes to wipe the sweat off my chest and groin and I was gathering up my belongings and phone and dressing as quickly and quietly as I could without falling over or banging into stuff like plates and magazines. Not easy.

As soon as we were dressed he softly opened the door, me just behind, to see if we could creep out.

And wouldn't you fucking know it, that was the precise time that Reverend Fuckface decided to take his leave.

So it was a panicked shuffling back into the bedroom, where we both stood, like two dummies in an old movie, Abbott and bloody Costello, ear to the door waiting for the bugger to go.

We could hear all the, "Oh we must do this again"s & the "Thank you for the delicious cake"s etc... that went on interminably. And I'm not going to lie, there might have been some slow heavy snogging as we waited.

Between us two, I mean, not the bible basher and the oldies.

Hopefully.

Though you can never tell with the bloody church these days. And as for ma and pa, well look how their precious Dennis turned out.

Well as soon as the inane chatter stopped and we had heard the minister's car drive up the driveway and away, we gave it a minute for the parents to fuck off into the kitchen to clear up or whatever.

And Dennis again went out and halfway down the stairs to spy out the land, looked down into the kitchen and frantically waved for me to come out of the room. He went down the rest of the stairs quietly opened the front door and I was out and away Scot free off into the dark!

And that's that.

We messaged a couple of times after that for a bit. Him urging me for a return match.

And as enjoyable as it was - and he was a good fuck - my nerves weren't up to repeating all that Hawkeye Superspy stuff. And we had been very lucky not to be caught that first time.

After a while the messages stopped.

This was 7 or 8 years ago now and it's not that big a town. So it was no surprise when a couple of years after that I saw him in the town centre. But I was with my missus and he was the other side of the street and didn't see me.

Then a year or two ago I was by myself walking down the main street and saw him walking in the opposite direction. I looked up just to say hi out of politeness but he walked straight past me without a glance or word. Either he didn't recognise me or he didn't want to say hi. No matter.

I did notice he was neatly turned out though. Not the dishevelled scruff I fucked.

I had deleted that app after some other stupid shenanigans then rejoined it last year after a couple of years absence. This time under a new username.
I saw his old username was still active on the app but his location was now East Belfast instead of the old one of Bangor.

So I reckoned his folks were dead and/or in nursing homes and he'd sold the house - it would have got a good price - and moved 'into town' as we refer to nearby Belfast here.

I did think of messaging him but thought the better of it. He probably has his own place now and admittedly it would be nice to fuck him again with more leisure and less nervejangling. But I didn't want to intrude.
I noticed that he did check out my profile, presumably after seeing that I had checked out his.
Though I don't think he figured out who I was.

My current account has that new name and has none of the old pics and vids of the old one that could tie me to that old account.

And he never messaged me even if he did know, so I'll leave him alone.

'Aw pity'.