Date: Thu, 24 Apr 2008 03:24:09 -0400 (GMT-04:00)
From: crumby2392@mypacks.net
Subject: Mike From Glasgow

I never thought to ask, somehow, what he was doing in that bar, midday,
during work hours.  I had come in for the lunchtime special, and sort of
lingered over a beer and sandwich.  I lingered both because I had the day
off and because there was something there to see.  And that something was
his ass.

Tall and lean, with brown curly hair, he was leaning over the bar, chatting
with the bartender, the remains of a luncheon plate next to him, and a pint
of beer--my own setup.  I was sitting at a table just behind him.  His
jeans clung to his sweetly rounded ass.  A tee shirt revealed a spare,
lightly muscled frame.  And his ass kept moving as he talked, shifting side
to side, back to front, as if he were engaging in sex with an invisible
partner, in very slow motion.

So that's why I lingered.

I didn't think he noticed me.  But in fact it was I who was less
observant--I hadn't noticed the mirror.  A car outside turned a corner, a
piece of chrome caught the light, which glinted into the mirror, then into
my eye.  It was only then that I noticed that he was watching me, watching
me closely, with those brown eyes, in the mirror.  Should I try to make
contact?

But contact was already made--eye contact.  I couldn't take my gaze off his
face--in the mirror.  Beautiful features, and his eyes riveted on me.  I
decided to take the next step.  I got up, went to the bar, and asked the
bartender for my bill.  This put me right next to him, and his gaze
followed me.  As I spoke, I rubbed my own thigh several times, then my
basket--all while looking at this beautiful guy.  His gaze fell to my hand,
then to my crotch, and he made a similar motion.

That's it.  Bingo.  I nodded a silent greeting.  He replied, "How are you?"
He's British, and I'm a sucker for his charming accent already.  Not
Oxford, but something more rural.  Irish?  Scottish?  I wanted to find out.

"I'm good.  Do you like this part of town?"

"Sure, it's great.  Had the day off, came to this watering hole--I like the
lunches.  Mike here" He rolled his `r' slightly as he extended his hand.

"Nick." We shook.  "So where are you from, originally?"

"Glasgow."  I loved how he turned the `s' into a `z'.  Made me think of his
vocal cords vibrating as my cock plunges down his throat.  Control
yourself.  He's only cupped his balls, nothing else.

Yeah.  And wiggled his ass at you, and locked his gaze at you, and is
probably undressing you with his eyes...

A cartoon angel and devil fought on my shoulders.  Let's see who's right.

"You live near here?" He asked.  Devil wins!

"No, I live across town.  You?"

"Yeah, right nearby, nice flat.  You wanna see it?"  Yeah, I wanna see it.
Every nook and cranny.  While you inspect the ceiling.

"Sure.  Lemme just pay the man."  So I paid, and he paid, and I followed
him two blocks to a three-story walk up.  He opened the front door and
proceeded up the stairs.  And that one act, in retrospect, determined the
rest of my day.  I followed him up the stairs, his incredible muscular ass
muscles pumping under tight jeans.  It was all I could do not to grab it
right there.

His flat was three flights up, the only one on that floor.  I was sweating
by the time we got to the third flight.  It was constructed differently
from the first two.  A slight turn in the architecture broke the line of
sight to the bottom flights, except through a small airshaft around which
the stairs wound.  I took all this in quickly, and sort of made a plan.

I say `sort of' because I don't remember thinking--just acting.  In one
brave move, I grabbed him around the waist--he was above me on the
stairs--and felt his crotch.  His body stiffened in surprise, but he didn't
resist.  Instead, he moaned, softly.  This both encouraged my actions and
inflamed my passions.  I got his pants undone--he wasn't wearing a
belt--and gave a yank.  They slid to his upper thighs, then caught.  They
were tight.

And he wasn't wearing any underwear.  He had toppled forward, so that he
was leaning against the last few stairs.  That magnificent ass now was
bare, lifted directly at my face.  What could I do?  On the stairs like
that, with his pants hobbling him, I grabbed his ass cheeks, gently pulled
them apart, and started licking at his ass crack.  Hot and soft, the hard
cheeks surrounding it, his ass was all that I had wished for back in the
bar, when it tormented me with lust over lunch.  He swayed back and forth,
a fast-forward version of his slow dance at the bar.  He moaned.  And his
cock was rock-hard.

So was mine, and caught in my pants.  But I was too occupied with his ass.
My tongue found his rosebud, licked and prodded, reached in as much as it
could.  He was panting now, and so was I.  We hardly noticed that we were
in a public place.  Anyone could have walked in, climbed the stairs to
their apartment, noticed the noise, come to investigate.  But no one did.
Maybe we would have heard the noise on the stairs or the key in the outside
door lock.  But maybe not.  We simply weren't thinking.

I ate his ass for about ten minutes, slaking my accumulated lust from the
scene at the bar.  Then I wanted to go to the next step--and so did he.  He
started moaning, "Fuck me!  Fuck me!"  So I guess I could tell what should
happen.  I didn't want to fuck on the stairs.  Even I could see that we'd
get too involved, and might get caught.  I helped him off with his pants,
then removed mine.  His tee quickly slipped off, and I removed my shirt.

And that was the end of a short genteel interlude.  My lusts were raging,
and I couldn't wait any more.  The door of the apartment was right in front
of us, but it was too much trouble to get into a bed.  I'm the more
muscular of the two of us, and anyway he just followed my lead. .  I
pressed his body, facing me, against the door, then pressed my lips against
his.  He sucked my tongue frantically into his mouth.  We kissed and rubbed
our bodies against each other.  Our cocks rolled around, leaking, between
our groins.

The more I had of this man, the more I wanted.  I wanted everything about
him, and I wanted it all at once.  I broke the kiss, crouched down in front
of him, and engulfed his cock with my mouth. Hard, and leaking, and sweet
to the taste. My tongue felt the slit, my lips the ridge, my cheeks the
shaft.  I could have sucked on that cock forever.

Except that there was a noise below.  Yes!  Yes! Someone was coming in.
Would they hear?  Would they see?  Feet fell on the steps.  My mouth froze
on his cock.  I dared not move, not even my lips, not even my tongue.  I
held his beautiful cock motionless in my mouth.  He had heard the noise,
and likewise froze.  Time was suspended.

 Seven, eight, nine steps, turn, ten, eleven twelve.  Stop.  A key turned
in a door, and I knew we were safe.  Whoever it was went into another
apartment. A latch clicked.  They were home, and wouldn't need to know
about us.  I resumed my cock sucking.  Mike pressed his groin towards me,
moaning and shaking.  I sucked him down, down into my throat.  And he
came--spilled hot seed right into my mouth.  I swallowed what I could, then
let the rest dribble out.  I grabbed his tee shirt, lying on the floor, and
wiped a bit.

Then I held his softening cock in my mouth, savoring its heat, its
thickness.  Mike's body calmed down.  He relaxed against the door.  Then he
reached out and felt my hard cock, and repeated his exhortation, softer
this time, almost pleading.  "Fuck me.  Please fuck me now."

That got me hotter than ever.  I spun him around, pressed him against the
door, and entered him.  His asshole was marvelously open, pliable, warm.
No struggles here.  He must have been wanting this for a while.  My cock
slipped in, almost to the hilt, in a single stroke.  I pulled it out,
stroked him a second time, then a third.  My cock was bursting.  Standing
up like this, pressing him against the door,, My balls tingled, my body
shook with passion.  Mike was pressing his ass back against me.  I stroked
faster now, harder, the urgency welling up within me.

But I wanted this to last.  I could feel the orgasm rising, deep within me,
the point of no return approaching.  And I wanted more.  So I took my cock
out of his ass.  Mike slumped back towards me, his body with a gesture of
`more, I want more'.  I put my arm around his torso, pulled him away from
the door---and found that he was hard again.  I grabbed his cock, turned us
both around, and leaned him against a sturdy railing.  He was now looking
down that airshaft, and ready for a doggie-style fuck.

I entered him again, and immediately started pounding his ass.  Now I
needed to cum.  His cock was drooling and throbbing.  He was clutching that
railing.  My thrusts pushed him closer to it.  We slammed against each
other, and panted almost in unison.  I grabbed his torso, and lifted him up
a bit.  This brought his ass closer to me, and made his cock point straight
out.

It was at this point that he came, in long thick streams.  I could feel his
contractions inside him as his penis exploded in the air.  And the thick
ropes of cum launched themselves into the space in the middle of the
staircase, falling with a light splat two stories below.  This turned me
on, and I came, spasming deep inside him.

We stayed in that awkward position, coupled together at the top of the
stairs, for a minute or two.  Then, my cock wilting, I pulled out of him
and we both stood up.

He smiled at me, I smiled back.  "I never got a chance to invite you in,"
he said.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure."  He picked his pants up off the floor, fumbled to get the key out
of the pocket, and opened the door.  We brought our clothes in and dressed.
He offered me a beer, we chatted for about 20 minutes, exchanged phone
numbers and I left.

I don't know if he'll call.












































Mike from Glasgow

I never thought to ask, somehow, what he was doing in that bar, midday,
during work hours.  I had come in for the lunchtime special, and sort of
lingered over a beer and sandwich.  I lingered both because I had the day
off and because there was something there to see.  And that something was
his ass.

Tall and lean, with brown curly hair, he was leaning over the bar, chatting
with the bartender, the remains of a luncheon plate next to him, and a pint
of beer--my own setup.  I was sitting at a table just behind him.  His
jeans clung to his sweetly rounded ass.  A tee shirt revealed a spare,
lightly muscled frame.  And his ass kept moving as he talked, shifting side
to side, back to front, as if he were engaging in sex with an invisible
partner, in very slow motion.

So that's why I lingered.

I didn't think he noticed me.  But in fact it was I who was less
observant--I hadn't noticed the mirror.  A car outside turned a corner, a
piece of chrome caught the light, which glinted into the mirror, then into
my eye.  It was only then that I noticed that he was watching me, watching
me closely, with those brown eyes, in the mirror.  Should I try to make
contact?

But contact was already made--eye contact.  I couldn't take my gaze off his
face--in the mirror.  Beautiful features, and his eyes riveted on me.  I
decided to take the next step.  I got up, went to the bar, and asked the
bartender for my bill.  This put me right next to him, and his gaze
followed me.  As I spoke, I rubbed my own thigh several times, then my
basket--all while looking at this beautiful guy.  His gaze fell to my hand,
then to my crotch, and he made a similar motion.

That's it.  Bingo.  I nodded a silent greeting.  He replied, "How are you?"
He's British, and I'm a sucker for his charming accent already.  Not
Oxford, but something more rural.  Irish?  Scottish?  I wanted to find out.

"I'm good.  Do you like this part of town?"

"Sure, it's great.  Had the day off, came to this watering hole--I like the
lunches.  Mike here" He rolled his `r' slightly as he extended his hand.

"Nick." We shook.  "So where are you from, originally?"

"Glasgow."  I loved how he turned the `s' into a `z'.  Made me think of his
vocal cords vibrating as my cock plunges down his throat.  Control
yourself.  He's only cupped his balls, nothing else.

Yeah.  And wiggled his ass at you, and locked his gaze at you, and is
probably undressing you with his eyes...

A cartoon angel and devil fought on my shoulders.  Let's see who's right.

"You live near here?" He asked.  Devil wins!

"No, I live across town.  You?"

"Yeah, right nearby, nice flat.  You wanna see it?"  Yeah, I wanna see it.
Every nook and cranny.  While you inspect the ceiling.

"Sure.  Lemme just pay the man."  So I paid, and he paid, and I followed
him two blocks to a three-story walk up.  He opened the front door and
proceeded up the stairs.  And that one act, in retrospect, determined the
rest of my day.  I followed him up the stairs, his incredible muscular ass
muscles pumping under tight jeans.  It was all I could do not to grab it
right there.

His flat was three flights up, the only one on that floor.  I was sweating
by the time we got to the third flight.  It was constructed differently
from the first two.  A slight turn in the architecture broke the line of
sight to the bottom flights, except through a small airshaft around which
the stairs wound.  I took all this in quickly, and sort of made a plan.

I say `sort of' because I don't remember thinking--just acting.  In one
brave move, I grabbed him around the waist--he was above me on the
stairs--and felt his crotch.  His body stiffened in surprise, but he didn't
resist.  Instead, he moaned, softly.  This both encouraged my actions and
inflamed my passions.  I got his pants undone--he wasn't wearing a
belt--and gave a yank.  They slid to his upper thighs, then caught.  They
were tight.

And he wasn't wearing any underwear.  He had toppled forward, so that he
was leaning against the last few stairs.  That magnificent ass now was
bare, lifted directly at my face.  What could I do?  On the stairs like
that, with his pants hobbling him, I grabbed his ass cheeks, gently pulled
them apart, and started licking at his ass crack.  Hot and soft, the hard
cheeks surrounding it, his ass was all that I had wished for back in the
bar, when it tormented me with lust over lunch.  He swayed back and forth,
a fast-forward version of his slow dance at the bar.  He moaned.  And his
cock was rock-hard.

So was mine, and caught in my pants.  But I was too occupied with his ass.
My tongue found his rosebud, licked and prodded, reached in as much as it
could.  He was panting now, and so was I.  We hardly noticed that we were
in a public place.  Anyone could have walked in, climbed the stairs to
their apartment, noticed the noise, come to investigate.  But no one did.
Maybe we would have heard the noise on the stairs or the key in the outside
door lock.  But maybe not.  We simply weren't thinking.

I ate his ass for about ten minutes, slaking my accumulated lust from the
scene at the bar.  Then I wanted to go to the next step--and so did he.  He
started moaning, "Fuck me!  Fuck me!"  So I guess I could tell what should
happen.  I didn't want to fuck on the stairs.  Even I could see that we'd
get too involved, and might get caught.  I helped him off with his pants,
then removed mine.  His tee quickly slipped off, and I removed my shirt.

And that was the end of a short genteel interlude.  My lusts were raging,
and I couldn't wait any more.  The door of the apartment was right in front
of us, but it was too much trouble to get into a bed.  I'm the more
muscular of the two of us, and anyway he just followed my lead. .  I
pressed his body, facing me, against the door, then pressed my lips against
his.  He sucked my tongue frantically into his mouth.  We kissed and rubbed
our bodies against each other.  Our cocks rolled around, leaking, between
our groins.

The more I had of this man, the more I wanted.  I wanted everything about
him, and I wanted it all at once.  I broke the kiss, crouched down in front
of him, and engulfed his cock with my mouth. Hard, and leaking, and sweet
to the taste. My tongue felt the slit, my lips the ridge, my cheeks the
shaft.  I could have sucked on that cock forever.

Except that there was a noise below.  Yes!  Yes! Someone was coming in.
Would they hear?  Would they see?  Feet fell on the steps.  My mouth froze
on his cock.  I dared not move, not even my lips, not even my tongue.  I
held his beautiful cock motionless in my mouth.  He had heard the noise,
and likewise froze.  Time was suspended.

 Seven, eight, nine steps, turn, ten, eleven twelve.  Stop.  A key turned
in a door, and I knew we were safe.  Whoever it was went into another
apartment. A latch clicked.  They were home, and wouldn't need to know
about us.  I resumed my cock sucking.  Mike pressed his groin towards me,
moaning and shaking.  I sucked him down, down into my throat.  And he
came--spilled hot seed right into my mouth.  I swallowed what I could, then
let the rest dribble out.  I grabbed his tee shirt, lying on the floor, and
wiped a bit.

Then I held his softening cock in my mouth, savoring its heat, its
thickness.  Mike's body calmed down.  He relaxed against the door.  Then he
reached out and felt my hard cock, and repeated his exhortation, softer
this time, almost pleading.  "Fuck me.  Please fuck me now."

That got me hotter than ever.  I spun him around, pressed him against the
door, and entered him.  His asshole was marvelously open, pliable, warm.
No struggles here.  He must have been wanting this for a while.  My cock
slipped in, almost to the hilt, in a single stroke.  I pulled it out,
stroked him a second time, then a third.  My cock was bursting.  Standing
up like this, pressing him against the door,, My balls tingled, my body
shook with passion.  Mike was pressing his ass back against me.  I stroked
faster now, harder, the urgency welling up within me.

But I wanted this to last.  I could feel the orgasm rising, deep within me,
the point of no return approaching.  And I wanted more.  So I took my cock
out of his ass.  Mike slumped back towards me, his body with a gesture of
`more, I want more'.  I put my arm around his torso, pulled him away from
the door---and found that he was hard again.  I grabbed his cock, turned us
both around, and leaned him against a sturdy railing.  He was now looking
down that airshaft, and ready for a doggie-style fuck.

I entered him again, and immediately started pounding his ass.  Now I
needed to cum.  His cock was drooling and throbbing.  He was clutching that
railing.  My thrusts pushed him closer to it.  We slammed against each
other, and panted almost in unison.  I grabbed his torso, and lifted him up
a bit.  This brought his ass closer to me, and made his cock point straight
out.

It was at this point that he came, in long thick streams.  I could feel his
contractions inside him as his penis exploded in the air.  And the thick
ropes of cum launched themselves into the space in the middle of the
staircase, falling with a light splat two stories below.  This turned me
on, and I came, spasming deep inside him.

We stayed in that awkward position, coupled together at the top of the
stairs, for a minute or two.  Then, my cock wilting, I pulled out of him
and we both stood up.

He smiled at me, I smiled back.  "I never got a chance to invite you in,"
he said.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure."  He picked his pants up off the floor, fumbled to get the key out
of the pocket, and opened the door.  We brought our clothes in and dressed.
He offered me a beer, we chatted for about 20 minutes, exchanged phone
numbers and I left.

I don't know if he'll call.