Bent Fiction – Pink Pants

pink pantsBy Les Lea

        The Internet is a fine way of meeting local shags. If you are messaging each other on the net then, if you live close enough, you might as well be screwing… and that’s what we decided to do. His profile said he was into rugby (and rugby players… or at least guys with that kind of strong build) but that he was ‘versatile’ and loved wearing trackie bottoms and trainers or white rugby shorts and boots. Well, there were a few other things to ‘Stantheman’ as well but that’s the basics.

He’d messaged me and said he’d like to sink his dick into me at the first opportunity… so after a couple more brief bits of e-mail I ended up sitting on his sofa having a drink whist we chatted. I’m not sure at what point he’d gone off the idea of shagging because he didn’t actually come out and say anything, but the conversation we were having, although it was cordial enough, was getting nowhere fast.

We talked about his life as a soldier, more recently as a builder but now he was without work and looking for an opportunity to arise for him to get back into full-time employment. His profile said he was 42 years old but on meeting him it was clear he was more than likely 52, which he later confessed to be. Despite his age he told me he had been doing a bit of advertising in the local free press offering his services as a masseur… and he’d been getting a steady set of guys wanting that sort of attention. I began to think that perhaps he wanted me to pay, and although I have no objections to paying, it hadn’t been mentioned before I’d arrived and to be brutally honest, were I to pay; I would want someone other than him. However, the suggestion of payment never came up but he did mention that his home had become something of a ‘brothel’ and that a young mate of his was always popping in bringing a bit of trade.

His young mate couldn’t do it at home as he had a wife and three little girls to think about. ‘Stantheman’… I think I’ll call him Stan from now on… said that often, after his mate had shagged his bit of trade, he also got to shove his cock in for sloppy seconds. He said how much he loved fucking a guy who was full of spunk. Not very PC I know, but I can’t help but admit that my own cock gave more than a little throb as he described the sensations he felt as he plundered in. Dave was his mate’s name and he loved to fuck hard and quick and wasn’t particularly bothered if his piece of ass came or not. As long as his cock erupted in a tight hole, he was happy. He also loved to get sucked off, well that is according to Stan, who had done Dave himself a few times (this is how they originally became friends) and that he came in a huge explosion of cum that often overflowed the mouth his dick was invading. Dave loved to see a guy covered in his cock snot and took a great deal of pride in the amount of ball juice he could spray or deposit in any hole provided. His three daughters were proof that he was indeed a very fertile man and I’m sure his wife… well I have no idea about his wife because at that moment Stan’s mobile phone rang and he answered.

“Oh hi Dave” he smiled into the mouthpiece, “I was just talking about you.” He listened for a while.

“Where are you now?” He paused, “Well get yourself round here… I have someone who… by the look of the bulge in his pants… would love to meet you.”

I was shocked at such a suggestion but obviously Stan knew that my mind was already racing at this surprising new twist. “Oh yes… very much so…” I gathered Dave was asking questions about me but I could only hear the responses and I was dreading hearing the words “Forget it.” Can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been, to being dumped before a meeting?

Stan clicked off his phone. “Dave will be here in a couple of minutes, he’s just at the end of the road.”

I think he said that just on the faint chance that I’d make a bolt for the door but in truth I was quite fascinated to meet this spunky guy. I knew I could always make my excuses and leave if I wanted to… there were no chains or threats keeping me sat in that arm chair. Stan and I chatted for a further 5 or 6 minutes before the door opened, without knocking I might add, and in he walked.

He was around 6’ tall, 28 years-old, slim but not very muscular, a face that still bore the scars from pubescent acne and was what I would regard as a bit of a ‘chav’. The baseball cap, the white trackie bottoms (I could see now why Stan wore these) the blue Fred Perry polo shirt and the white adidas trainers were almost stereotypical of what I would have thought a ‘chav’ would dress like. He was carrying a couple of plastic bags and he looked over to Stan and in a broad common accent said, “Shopping for me girls.” He put the bags down and gave me the once over. I think I saw a nod being exchanged between the two and after a few minutes of them chatting together about his daughters (who he was obviously very proud of ), and a party he was taking them to later that afternoon, he came and sat next to me on my chair arm. Stan had mentioned earlier that despite being a total family man; loving his wife and daughters… he just loved fucking guys. Sometimes for money but mainly just guys he’d pick up at the local cruising areas. He was, according to Stan, very successful at cruising and almost insatiable as he was constantly horny. I was about to find out just how horny Dave was.

“D’ ya fancy a fuck?” Dave was nothing if not direct and I was having slight trouble dealing with this directness. I was thinking maybe I should make a little joke of it, pretend I misheard him, play coy but in the end I simply said “OK”. We left Stan in the living room watching TV as Dave guided me to a little room that had a single bed in it. The curtains were drawn, the sheets looked clean and there was a yellow, low voltage, table light making the room glow quite nicely. Next to the bed there was a small table with lotions and potions, lubes and gels and some condoms in a fancy little yellow bowl… I assumed this was Stan’s place of business and that there was another room where he slept.

With no preamble Dave started stripping off. His shirt was first, revealing a narrow chest with just a few wisps of hair around his small but taut nipples. Kicking off his trainers he pulled the chord on his trackies and pushed them to the floor then this lean shagging machine was left in just a pair of pink briefs and a bulge that was already looking pretty impressive. I was staring and taking my time to strip but he looked a bit fed up with the time I was taking and stepped up close and started to give me a hand. In fact he pushed and pulled at my clothes and had me stripped in seconds, my lycra trunks being ripped off and thrown into the corner. “OK… on t’ bed,” he ordered and I was unceremoniously pushed onto my stomach. “Nice arse,” he commented. “I’m gonna enjoy stuffing my dick up it.” Well he wasn’t one for romance but I have to admit my cock was hard as nails pressed into the sheets. I heard him remove his undies and immediately I felt him straddling my body as he joined me on the bed.

“Do ya like it fast or slow?” He whispered in my ear as he grabbed something off the bedside table.

“Oh… erm.. I’m not…” I didn’t get to finish my response before I felt a couple of oily finger slipping into my butt hole.

“Ohh yes… nice ‘n’ tight… mmm… that’s jus’ what I need.”

Then held his pink sweaty briefs tightly against my face and told me to breathe.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said as he forced his way in.

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One thought on “Bent Fiction – Pink Pants

  • July 30, 2015 at 9:48 pm
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    I agree with that if you live close to each other and messing about with each other on the internet,you may as well be shagging each other.This poor guy will never be away from getting banged rotten,in a kinky way.{BUT HEY IT SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!}

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