Don’t get me wrong, I’ve nothing against discos; it’s just that, never having been blessed with outstanding good looks, muscles or kit ‘n caboodle, 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 have 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 fear of rejection.

I was on one of my visits to Liverpool, one of my favourite cities in the UK and one for which I have long had a sentimental affection. The people are sometimes a little wayward, in a cheeky, loveable way but they are so friendly and I never feel at risk walking the city 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 tonight I decided to go against my usual instincts by hitting the bars and clubs. At the first bar I tried, it was far too early in the evening and there was very little happening. There were a few guys there but they were all with friends, each in their own little ‘cliques’ strategically scattered about the place. Why do so many guys go out with their friends, hoping to pull a complete stranger? Don’t they realise how it puts people like me off approaching them? I mean, if I’m not overflowing with confidence, I’m not going to risk multiple humiliation by being given the brush-off in front 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 suitable prey?

Whatever, eventually this young guy comes into the bar – on his own – and aside from his short ginger hair, which is not my usual turn-on, he is what I would call ‘my type’; mid-twenties, not too tall, lightly built, clean-shaven, smart dresser, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and snuggly fitting jeans, providing a none-too-discreet hint of a bulge, set slightly to his left. Then, blast! He sees two other guys by the bar who he obviously knows well and he starts talking to them. I remain against the wall on the other side of the floor, observing from the shadows.

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

Quick as a flash, I’m across the floor and I’m putting my arm around his shoulder, saying to him, “Trust me, I’m a doctor!” and before his mates know what’s happening, I take control and move him towards the bar, grab a pile of napkins and put a handful of ice-cubes in the middle and tell him to put his head back while I gently place the cool compress over his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

Just to be clear, I’m no doctor, in case you’re wondering. In fact, I’ve never been employed in any capacity within the medical profession, although I did work the telephone switchboard once, when first left school. So I don’t really know what came over at that moment but it’s interesting how, when someone is taken ill or has an accident, they become completely submissive to anyone who takes control 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 part of the bar and left us to it. Some friends they turned out to be!

The mere process of physical contact and his helplessness I found gave me an aching hard-on in my own jeans. As I ministered to him, holding his head and cleaning the stray blood from around his nose and cheeks, 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 feeling of ‘butterflies’ in the pit of my stomach, as my cock began oozing pre-cum into my white cotton briefs.

He told me his name was Sean and he was a primary school teacher, teaching 8-9 year-olds; single, 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 drink and we had a good chat for three quarters of an hour, while I gazed into his pale grey eyes, so unusual for one with 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 early; I wanna try the discos later and see what’s happening.”

Well, of course that pretty much burst my balloon! The dribbling erection straining in my jeans instantly began to go limp and I thought, “Typical! Just my bloody luck!”

So we parted on the best of terms; 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 good drag act going on. Then I wandered up to that part of town where most of the good disco clubs are. It was now past 11pm and I figured that the sun had gone down at least 4 hours ago, so the natives should all be out on the prowl by now!

I was right. Inside it was busy; busy enough for people to be anonymous and to get lost if they wanted to. I’m a useless disco dancer, so there was no point me making a fool of myself on the dance floor. Instead, I stuck to my favourite spot 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 in hand, scanning the horizon, as you do. I thought, “Shall I go over and say hello?” but he had not been interested enough earlier, so I decided against it. I was certain he had seen me, so if he changed his mind, he knew where I was. The idea of being a “date of last resort” didn’t bother me; after all, pride was a luxury I couldn’t afford!

Needless to say, we both spent the next hour or more ‘eyeing the talent’, each barely moving from our respective vantage-points and each making no contact. I had finally raised the courage-level and resolved to go over and talk to him when a complete 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 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 last drop 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 drink, 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 on the bar.

“Yeah,” he said, “you, you idiot!”

In no time at all, we were on the couch in the quiet lounge, snogging like billy-o; his lips were moist and delicious and his kisses tasted of mint and lager, as our tongues 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 my own hands off his lovely soft face and his short spikey hair, which was the same colour mine used to be when I was a kid, bright ginger. In the subdued light of the lounge, his pale complexion and his large pale grey eyes seemed to accentuate the darkness of his now heavily dilated pupils and I decided it was time to take charge 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. Needless to say, we both got soaked in no time as we darted from doorway to doorway but as we sheltered momentarily under an awning, I caught the first glimpse of Sean’s soaking-wet white shirt, clinging transparently to his trim body, showing in the street lights his rippled muscles and the tiny bumps of his proud nipples. Impulsively, I grabbed his waist and pulled him toward me and as our bodies merged, we kissed again, in full view of passers-by. Our hair dripping down our faces, and our jeans heavy and stuck to our legs, we were immersed in a slobbering exchange of tongues and heavy breathing as we heard a passing straight couple shout 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 door of my room when this time it was Sean’s turn to grab hold of me. His hands seemed to be everywhere and as he began undoing the buttons of my own wet shirt, I cradled his lovely soft, wet, dripping face in my hands as we kissed again and again with an increasing sense of frantic urgency. We were both horny as hell and desperate for one another’s bodies. Having removed our shirts, we at last enjoyed that thrilling sensation of warm bodily contact; skin against skin, as our hands explored each other’s arms, shoulders, back, chest and nipples. I noticed that, whereas I have very little body hair, the top of his chest was peppered with small, soft curls of pale gold.

We tried to continue undressing each other but our jeans were so wet and heavy, 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 pile on the floor and we each stood together like naughty ginger twins, both in damp white cotton briefs and soaking-wet white socks.

As he took off his socks, 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 head, as our briefs 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 arms, I slid down his body, between his legs and as I buried my face into the groin of his damp white briefs and stroked the soft sides of his trim waist with my hands, he gently let out a contented sigh and just lay there, enjoying my exploration of his body. Unlike the soft, golden hairs of his upper chest, his abdomen was hairless, apart from a tiny treasure-trail of hairs below his belly-button; these were of a darker gold, becoming ginger, as they disappeared into the waistband of his white underpants. Lightly, I stroked the sides of his torso with my fingers and discovered one of his many erogenous zones; he inhaled deeply and moaned. I kissed his sides, just above his thigh bones, first one side and then the other. With each kiss, his legs and body squirmed and writhed in ecstasy.

Sliding further down between his legs, I nuzzled into the depths of his warm groin and inhaled his musky scent, a mixture of man-sweat, damp rain and the feint hint of a discreet cologne. His thighs were peppered with tiny soft curls which I licked and kissed, before moving on to lick and taste and suck at his throbbing manhood, still constrained by the damp white cotton of his briefs.

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

I finally lowered the waist-band of his briefs and his engorged tool sprang free from a thick nest of dark ginger hair. It lay throbbing against his stomach, the blood pumping eagerly into every vessel, as it grew before my eyes and his glistening cock-head emerged from beneath its uncut covering, to reveal its throbbing pink helmet, oozing a tiny blob of pre-cum. As my tongue touched his cock, it seemed to spring towards me, desperate to be sucked. But I just flicked lightly at it with my tongue, tasting his pre-cum for the first time; a salty sweetness and a promise for later.

Instead, hastily throwing off my own briefs, I crouched between his legs and focussed my attention around the base of his penis, where his testicles lay amidst a thick bed of dark ginger hair, themselves just lightly covered in softer curls of contrasting gold, like two golden eggs in a nest. As I gazed at them, they rolled and churned before my eyes, as if something was alive inside, about to be ‘hatched’. Gently, I took each of his balls 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 testicles and raising myself onto my knees between his soft thighs, I took his organ in one 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 form. Slowly, I lowered my mouth over the glistening helmet and gently closed my lips over it, finally enveloping it in the soft wet warmth of my mouth. At this I felt Sean draw a sharp intake of breath as he arched his back slightly and his chest rose from the bed, his mouth gasping in ecstasy, while his head thrashed from side to side.

“Oh – Jesus!” he whispered, “That is so good!”

Going down on his delicious tool, I now realized that, even though we were of similar build, he was considerably better endowed than me and I was actually experiencing some difficulty; my jaw was being stretched to its limit as my nose sank lower, towards his pubic hair and I inhaled his musky scents. I had never actually ‘deep-throated’ a guy before but the thrill of having his body in my hands, clearly enjoying every moment, was driving me on to persist. But his cock was so thick. It was difficult to keep my teeth from touching its shaft, as I rose up and down on him, sucking for all I was worth, rolling my tongue 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 my head and as his thick cock pushed into the back of my throat, his hands would push me harder down onto him, blocking my airway, causing me to gag and cough, as more and more salty pre-cum oozed into my mouth. It was then that I noticed a “clunk” in my jaw and a slight pain in one ear; I didn’t quite realise it at the time but my jaw had been stretched so far it had dislocated! My eyes were watering and there was spit and dribble everywhere; but I had him and I wasn’t letting go!

My other hand, meanwhile, was gently playing with his ball-sack, tickling and teasing his groin towards his arse. As my finger played around his hole, I felt his legs part in encouragement. Glad of the opportunity of resting my aching jaw, I now lifted up his legs and his bottom, moving forward to support his back as I now sank my face under his balls and into the depth of his arse-crack, only lightly peppered with tight, dark curls and smelling strongly of sweat, musk and cologne. My tongue entered his hole in teasing exploration and he let out a gasp,

“Oh fuck, yes! I love that!”

My nose was now buried beneath his balls, those two ‘golden eggs’, inhaling the scents of his body, as my tongue probed and played in and around his anus, while my hand grasped his solid tool, pulling his foreskin back and forth across its swollen head. He was clearly in ecstasy.

“Ohhhh, fuck; ohhhhh fuck!” he pleaded, “I’m gonna 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 dual assault of this, his most private body territory. Sucking and licking feverishly around his anus, my tongue darted in and out of his hole, while my hand masturbated his aching organ, now pointing down towards his own face. His head was cranked forward under the weight of his up-turned body and his face was crushed and flushed bright pink, as the waves of orgasm began exploding inside his body.

“Oh Shit!” I heard him groan through clenched teeth, as my tongue felt the sensations of his throbbing perineum, telling me that his cum was at last pumping from his two ‘golden eggs’, through his groin towards his shaft. Time seemed to slow down as my hand felt the tell-tale throbbing in his organ as his cum erupted from his tool and shot down in a long stream across his face. He closed his eyes tight shut and grimaced, as his thick, white cum remorselessly spurted across his mouth, his nose, his eyes, splattering his face in gobs of the sticky white goo as he gasped in agony, 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 organ was now pressed hard against his back, holding him upright on the bed.

Releasing my grip of him, I allowed him to roll back down and collapse flat on the bed again, as he moaned in exhausted pleasure and relief. His eyes were still clasped shut and his face 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 clean the cum from his eyes, I now began licking his face, savouring the slightly bitter but salty taste of his cum, as I gently washed his face with my tongue and he grimaced, 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 bodies, the feeling of his still slightly swollen (and even now, much larger) organ between us, and the taste 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, long passionate kiss. Once again, our mouths became as one and our hot tongues caressed and played together, as my orgasm erupted from my insides and my body 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 bodies, 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 morning, 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 other and kissing occasionally. He got up to use the bathroom first and I watched his naked body, as he padded across the room. In the daylight, I now saw that he had such a cute bottom; 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 events of our night of passion, I yawned and felt my jaw go “clunk” again. There was no pain, as such; I just knew it wasn’t right and it bothered me. I’ve tried various remedies over the years 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 conquest!

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