Jasper went directly from his hotel on the underground to Piccadilly Circus, which meant to him- busy with people. He understood this was “the place” to meet anyone he could hope for, especially another man. Late that afternoon he browsed through Lilywhites, the tourist sporting goods store. He purchased a cricket t-shirt, embossed with Lord of the Swing and cricket stick, deciding to wear it immediately to blend in with the Londoners.
Jasper, forty-five but still a good looking man with dark brown hair and a fit physique, traveled spontaneously alone to London for his first trip to Europe. He had a two week vacation, needing a break from San Francisco from work and his last partner, who walked out on him a month prior. He needed somewhere to find a new perspective of men. He hoped London would offer an injection of excitement to his mundane life.
Walking over to The London Trocodero, he ventured down to the underground. Previously he heard whispers of cottaging there. Looking up the definition on his smart phone, he discovered it was a place of casual anonymous sex amongst gay men. He strolled, periodically catching glances from a few young hot guys. He stopped, stood, and played around with the apps on his phone, occasionally looking around.
One man in particular stared, and then inched closer to Jasper, until their eyes locked and he spoke, “Do you mate want to have it off?”
“What’s have it off?” Jasper almost whispered to be discreet. Waiting for his response he studied this man’s masculine shape, dusty blond hair, and steely blue eyes.
“Gob smacked, have sex.” He spoke louder. “You have long luppers. Do you have a big John Thomas?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Jasper stumbled over his words. “Actually I was looking for Old Compton Street.”
“First time to London?”
“I said ‘you have long fingers. Do you have a big penis?’”
Jasper laughed and so did the man. “What’s your name?”
“Howie and yours mate?”
“You want to go to Old Compton Street. Looking for queer life are you?”
“You found the right place for queers here but I’ll take there. Looking for clubbing?”
“Oh, yeah. Are there any clubs there? Jasper sighed, trusting Howie more.
“Only the best, the G-A-Y Bar. It’s just a short bit always. We’ll walk.”
Howie explained more about gay nightlife in London while they walked above on the pavement from Piccadilly Circus. He detailed more about Old Compton Street. “The Soho is the center of the gay village in London. I’ll take you to Compton’s of Soho for a jar.”
“What’s a jar?” Jasper still misunderstood the slang of the Brits.
“Ah, a pint of beer. Okay?”
“That would be awesome.”
Walking down the streets of the village, Jasper eyed the gay men with sexual interest, not that he was not interested in Howie. He waited for more sexual impulses from his new friend.
Early evening set in as they entered through the door of the black and brass façade of Comptons. Brass lamps illuminated the sides of the front door, giving the illusion of old London. Since it was early, Jasper and Howie found a place to order two pints of ale.
“This place is packed with bodies later. You cannot find a place to sit. Everyone’s catching eyes from each other and feeling tadgers,” Howie shared.
“What’s a tadger?”
“Dicks of course. Hungry?”
“Yeah, do they have fish n, chips? I’d like to try the real English version.”
“Yeah or hamburgers.”
“After they ate and continued drinking beer, they watched the bar crowd with a mixture of men, some in leather, bears, and males dressed casual like them.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Jasper asked.
“The pony’s upstairs. I need to go too. I’ll show you.”
A rush of excitement went tingling through Jasper’s body as men reached for a feel of his cock, but Howie’s hand squeezing his, as he led the way, sent stronger rippling pulsations to the head of his dick
Standing in line for the toilet, Howie spoke loudly in Jasper’s ear, above the noise and music “Do you want to try another pub, before clubbing?”
They walked to the pub, The Village. Inside the bar was modern, full of gay men, and more relaxed than Comptons. Finagling a booth, Howie ordered more pints. They sat eyeing the men while they drank.
“You still want to go clubbing at the G-A-Y Bar?”
“Maybe another night,” Jasper answered, staring into Howie’s piercing blue eyes.
“Yeah, I’m getting pissed up.”
“Ah you mean drunk.”
“Yeah, want to go to my gaff?”
“My place. I have a flat in Soho. Do you want to have it off?” Jasper’s lips spread into a devious smile.
“I’d like that. See understood. I like you.”
Walking through Old Compton Street a couple of blocks and down a cross street, they went to an apartment building, climbing a flight of stairs. Howie unlocked the door to his flat. He shoved Jasper through the door, shutting it behind himself. Jasper grabbed Howie by his head, thrusting a kiss on his lips. As they undressed each other and thrashed their clothes about, Howie walked him into his bedroom, pushed him down on the bed and kissed fervently. One of Howie’s hands cupped one of Jaspers butt cheeks, while his other hand stroked his long stiff dick.
As Jasper’s right hand sought his mate’s cock, his fingers tightened around its wide girth.
Howie short of breath, whispered, “You have a sweet fucking stick.” His mouth descended down Jasper’s thrusting dick.”
An hour later lying side by side, Howie gasped. “I’m knackered.”
“So am I, if that means exhausted.”
“You got that right. You want to stay until morning?”
“I’d love to. I’ll take you out to breakfast.”
“I like you mate. Stay with me as long as you want.”
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