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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

No going back - 6. Getting to know you

I went to ask Colin if he wanted more coffee. And there was his naked arse in all its furry glory. On his hands and knees doing something in the cupboard under the sink, his jeans had slipped right down, and he wasn't wearing any knickers. Was that deliberate? I made a joke of it, perhaps I'd join him and we'd both be properly bare arsed. But he turned bright red and made a stumbled apology for being so unprofessional. Hesitantly explaining something about his lack of kecks being to do with a washing crisis at the weekend. Then he bolted.

Shit.

I had written and deleted innumerable messages when I heard the front door go and he appeared in my office. He'd clearly been buying some knickers. He started to apologise again, but I stopped him.

"It's I who should apologise for presuming on our relationship. I'm gay and I've found the sight of you working each day rather heartening, but I should have kept that to myself. Today, well, I overstepped the mark completely. I'm sorry.

"If I thought it would make things better, I'd follow through with my suggestion that I work bare-arsed too, but I suspect that it would only make things worse. I promise to be more circumspect in the future. I would hate to disrupt what is proving to be a fine working relationship because I behaved as if I was at a club like Ten Tons of Fun. Sorry, at my age I should know better."

He stared at me, still looking somewhat pink and embarrassed, and he repeated rather stiffly, "I've always kept business and pleasure separate."

"Sometimes it isn't easy", and he gave a tight nod.

That was it, but I was very relieved that a) he stayed until 6pm that evening, and b) he turned up bright and early the next morning. I went in to offer coffee, which was accepted. But then whilst I was making it in the kitchen he came over and stood near me.

Finally I handed him the coffee and he cleared his throat, "You mentioned Ten Tons of Fun, do you go there?"

I laughed, "When I can. I used to be a regular until I was ill and hadn't been for ages till recently. Why, do you know it?"

He nodded, "Yes. I've been. It's a bit of an escape."

"From living round here?", he nodded in response, "That's what struck me, too. I'm starting to get settled up here, but I think the odd weekend in the smoke might be a good idea. Were you at the last one, did you enjoy it?"

His face lit up, "It was terrific, I've never seen anything like it?"

"I hope you didn't get up to anything too naughty. And just think, we might have bumped into each other."

Wrong thing to say, he went bright, bright pink and looked as if he might explode. I was worried he was going to run. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was so used to being out and thinking sod-it to anyone that didn't approve, that I tended to forget that there were guys for whom it was a big deal.

"Look, it's OK whichever way. We can keep things professional, and I'll forget about everything you've said. And believe me, I can keep my mouth shut. We can have an odd yarn about Ten Tons of Fun, maybe even go to the next one as mates. That's it. But it won't go any further. I simply thought that it might have been fun to bump into a mate at the club, instead of hanging around the bar looking for likely guys. "

"Thanks", he gave a shamefaced grin, "I should have thought a bit more about going bare-arsed. I was so pissed off on Sunday at me Mum's that I never really thought."

"It's OK, I meant what I said about it. Everything."

And he stared at me, a bit like a rabbit in headlights, "Everything?"

"Scout's Honour. And it won't go beyond these walls. Mind, I think working bare-arsed might be a bit dangerous."

He gave a proper grin, "You mean you might get your dick trapped in your mouse?"

"Something like that."

He put his coffee down. Just that, and I did something idiotic. I leaned over and started to unfasten his belt. They were different jeans from his usual, better fitting ones, that wouldn't slide down. Good job, because he was bare-arsed again. Deliberately? He started to breath heavily, so I left his jeans unzipped and unfastened, giving me a tempting peek, and quickly pushed my chinos and briefs down. Stepping out of them wasn't quite the slick manoeuvre it should have been, but we got there. I was just wearing a t-shirt, a decent one mind, but it came nowhere near down to my dick, so he got a good look. And look he did, and gulp.

"I thought I'd seen you at Ten Tons of Fun, but then you disappeared. And then yesterday, it was a dream come true. A stupid dream. Except perhaps it wasn't so stupid. Shall I pull my trousers up, or shall I help you join me?"

"I'll join you." He didn't sound certain.

"You sure? I don't want to fuck things up?"

He gave a little smile, "I think that you fucking me up sounds perfect", then he gave an almost child-like 'what did I say' look. I smiled and reached over and pushed his jeans down properly. His dick immediately popped out. As I unfastened his shirt, I kissed him and well, that rather developed.

---

Next morning, I wondered what would happen. Colin had been nervous and not at all the confident bloke who was the main contractor for the house, and I was half expecting a return to us being cool. If this was the case, then I knew I shouldn't push, and I should wait and be gentle. Not my best characteristics. And, of course, I had an early video call, so Colin simply started work whilst I was online. But when I finally got free, I went to ask he if wanted coffee and there was the crack in his arse, winking at me above his jeans. No knickers by the looks of things, and I took it as an invitation. I squatted down and plunged in. I'd got quite deep, easing his jeans right down so I could explore his crack in its full glory, before he acknowledged me, which he did with a naughty grin.

The next ten days were pure fun. Granted, Colin was frequently nervous and worried about being seen, but in reality, we were quite safe as we kept our activities to rooms that weren't overlooked, and I deliberately kept it light. I'd say that he wasn't that experienced, and the sex was quite straightforward, but then again, I was effectively five years out practice, so I am hardly one to talk. And Colin could be fun, light-hearted. It was two or three days before we got as far as me fucking him, but once we'd crossed that hurdle, we were off. And I was just thinking about asking him out for a drink one evening, when his crew turned up.

And that was it.

We were back to being cool and professional. I figured why almost immediately. The guys’ chatter was usually audible, and when I wasn’t there, I head joking about Colin being careful when in the house on his own, as I was clearly a shirt-lifter. A nice bloke and all, but still a shirt-lifter. As far as they were concerned, it was pure banter. I've come across blokes like that, even in my job, and they have no idea that such comments are so objectionable to the people involved. There wasn't much I could do.

There was one older bloke, Jimmie, who was first to arrive, last to leave, talked incessantly and was always around or constantly popping up. It wasn’t just the style of his banter; it was its incessant nature. The guy could talk for England, and even shut in my upstairs office, there’d be the distant sound of his voice droning on. He had the sort of timbre that was difficult to tune out, I’d find myself straining to hear him even if I didn’t want to know what he was saying. If I made the mistake of paying him any attention, then he would start talking to me, telling me an anecdote in detail, even going to far as to follow me around so that he could finish the telling.

I gave up offering Colin coffee, partly because Jimmie made them a drink as soon as he arrived, and partly because if I paid Colin any attention, Jimmie was immediately there and chatting away. Motormouth. So I plugged in my earphones and tuned out the background noise, it was the only way I was going to get work done and not go mad.

But it meant that the chance of getting Colin on his own and relaxed enough to talk to was minimal. I wondered about going to see him at home. I had his address; it was his business address too. But I could just about imagine the panic on his face when he opened the front door and saw me. I would have to do something, but what?

Copyright © 2023 Robert Hugill; All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you for reading. As ever, I am always happy to hear from readers; the plot arc is pretty much in place, but that doesn't mean there isn't room for new ideas.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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