They may not mean to, but they do - 4. Four

Keith stood in the bathroom, drying himself after a shower. He was meeting old work- mates for a drink and to go bowling. A sweaty day struggling with the wiring in an old place being renovated had made him decide to strip, and shower. He was stood in front of the mirror, he could hardly not be, the bathroom was tiny, barely room for bath, basin, and bog. He pulled on his kecks and caught sight of himself. What if it happened? If he met a bloke and went back with someone?

It hadn’t happened yet, partly through sheer luck but partly out of fear, though the fear of what he wasn’t sure. A clinch and a fumble in an alley were one thing, but in a bedroom, stripping off, these kecks were hardly sexy – plain grey, the same style he always wore, clean and serviceable. He’d have to get some sexy ones; and what did other blokes think were sexy?

As a rule, Keith didn’t buy off the net, but he looked on his phone and found a whole host of men’s underwear, revealing, highly coloured, novelty, some claiming they were guaranteed to display your package to best effect, whatever that meant, and some downright rude. The problem wasn’t so much buying them, but what might happen when the parcel arrived.

Sharing with the guys was friendly enough, but it wasn’t a large house and so there were few real secrets. Post was dumped in the kitchen, and if someone else was there when you picked yours up then there was banter about it. Keith just couldn’t imagine what might happen – eh up, sexy knickers, a new bird, tell!

At first, he thought he’d just have to go hunting for something in Leeds, but buying underwear was bad enough, going in search of sexy underwear was positively embarrassing. But he was going back to Bart and Greg’s doing some snagging; Greg’s eye for detail meant that the prospect of actually finishing there was constantly receding, still it was good money and he like them, unlike some clients he worked for.

His first day back there, when Bart brought him a coffee, Keith had an idea. Did he have the courage, was it trespassing on their friendship?

“Could I have something delivered here?”

“Sure”, Bart looked concerned. “Is there a problem at your place then?”

“No, everything’s fine. But”, Keith reddened, “it’s something a bit awkward and I don’t want the boys seeing it.”. He looked embarrassed as Bart cocked an eyebrow. “It's nothing illegal like, just not something the boys need to know about.”

Bart smiled, “Buying some sex toys then?”

Keith went bright red, “No, nothing like that. Do people really buy those things?”

Bart grinned, “Sure, you can have lots of fun. You should try it, just use our address. So, what are you buying, then?”

“Some underwear. I sort of wanted something a little less ordinary than these.” Keith gestured to the grey band of his underpants showing above his jeans.

“Ah, sexy knickers!”, Bart was eagerly interested, “what make are you planning on buying?”

Keith was well and truly embarrassed now, but he dug out his phone and showed Bart the site that he had come up with. Bart was polite but reserved and Keith suspected that he was not impressed. Bart looked at Keith, assessing what he should say. “Can I show you some other ideas, there are a few French sites that I rather like.” Here it was Bart’s turn to be slightly reserved, talking about his own taste in sexy knickers.

They went into Bart’s studio, a small room at the back of their house which seemed to be crammed with books. Keith stared at these, the sheer quantity, and the untidiness. How did he find anything? Bart watched the man's reaction and smiled, "I keep telling Greg that I will tidy things up, but it never happens."

"How do you find stuff?"

Bart rolled his eyes, "That's what Greg is always saying, you ought to see his study, everything in neat rows. How do I find things? Well, I just know. And if I've used it recently, it will be close to hand. Anyway, let’s have a look at this website." Bart opened his laptop and brought up a couple of websites, designers who specialised in men's underwear and swimming gear. It was all very stylish stuff, and very pricey.

Keith made a note of the websites on his phone and thanked Bart. As he turned to go, he asked the question which was uppermost in his mind. "Those sex toys, do guys actually use them?"

With his mates, sex toys were just a joke. No-one admitted using them or taking them seriously. Bart waggled his head from side to side, considering, "Some couples like to have toys to play with, though Greg and I have never been much bothered. I think virtually every gay man I know has at least one dildo squirrelled away somewhere, even if they wouldn't admit using them. I know guys that swear by vacuum pumps to make you bigger, and others that use toys regularly when lacking the right company, but there are plenty who don't bother. It’s up to you really."

Keith nodded, and went back to his job, with plenty to think about. He didn't notice Bart, standing and staring at Keith consideringly.

It was only when Keith was safely back in his bedroom that he looked at the websites Bart had recommended. They looked crap on his phone, and he wondered whether he ought to finally get himself a laptop. After all, it wasn’t as if he was still saving for a deposit with Maria. He had no girlfriend, and no boyfriend, and no prospect of owning a house on what he was earning on his own.

But he determined to be positive, he was footloose and fancy-free and going to buy some sexy knickers. He bought a couple of pair, eye-wateringly expensive but he reckoned they might be worth it. Then he went on to a site selling toys and looked over things. He'd never ever done anything, back there. He had known guys who were said to love anal and let their girlfriends fuck them (though that might have just been talk), and plenty who liked doing anal with their girlfriends. But getting himself fucked? Keith wasn't certain, but you didn't find out if you didn't try. He, now, understood the biology of it, with the prostate and all, but that had been a recent discovery. Well, he was going to be positive and go forward. He clicked on one of the cheaper dildos and ordered a small one (no need to be too ambitious). He just hoped the package wasn't too obvious when it arrived at Bart and Greg's.

-oOo-oOo-

Keith unexpectedly found himself with free time on Wednesday afternoon. A new client had postponed, for perfectly genuine reasons, and Keith had no reason to think that the appointment would not be re-scheduled, but it was frustrating all the same. There wasn't much he could do, so he went home for a shower and thought what the hell, he’d go to the White Horse. He'd never been mid-week and fancied a bit of fun. Besides, he could try out his new knickers. His expensive sexy knickers.

The crowd at the pub was different, and it was a lot quieter than at the weekend, but he noticed people arriving for the entertainment, a rather older crowd than on Saturdays with more guys on their own. Interesting. There were three strippers on offer. Keith was curious, he'd never seen a male stripper. Truth be told, outside of the sports changing rooms, he'd not seen much in the way of naked male flesh at all. So, he was rather looking forward to it.

He bought himself a beer and found a space at the side where he could get a good view but wasn't in the line of fire so to speak. Whilst male strippers were a new thing, he had seen plenty of women stripping in pubs over the years and knew enough about the routine that he didn't want to risk getting nobbled to join in somehow.

Leaning against the wall next to him was another bloke on his own, not much older than Keith and so a bit younger than the other guys stood around them. He was lean and tall, wearing loose clothes which looked a bit arty; not the regular get-up of guys in the pub (Keith was in his usual black t-shirt and 501s). He looked open and approachable, but Keith was suddenly aware that the guy had noticed Keith looking at him. So, Keith quickly muttered something about the entertainment and whether the guy had seen them before.

It turned out he hadn’t, and but that Wednesday was the regular stripper night. They chatted for a bit, the guy, Thomas, lived a bit further North, he'd recently moved to the area for a new job and was trying out the entertainment on offer. Thomas's casual, "And you?" at the end of his explanation rather threw Keith, who went a bit red, and his response came out a bit strangled.

They managed to have quite a chat, despite the background noise and the music. Neither came to the city regularly; Thomas admitted that he’d not managed to visit many other gay pubs in town yet, whilst Keith just said that he hadn’t been going to gay pubs for long and left it at that. He didn’t want to announce that he had only recently started to come out (another new word that he had learned), that he wasn’t certain whether he wanted to be out and that this was all a bit of an experiment. But he didn’t feel he needed to, he liked Thomas instinctively. Then the first stripper started.

Keith was familiar with the routine, and it was the same here even if it was a bloke doing it. A sexy bloke, granted, but Keith didn’t find it that erotic, he was more interested in how the guy was going to deal with getting his clothes off. He was cute enough, rather too over-muscled and over oiled for Keith, no body hair to speak of and just a neat dark patch above a very substantial dick. Once it was over, there was the feeling of ‘Is that all there is?’; Keith’s Gran had had a Peggy Lee disc with a song of that name, it had stuck in the young Keith’s head, and he was pretty sure he could still sing along, not that anyone would want to hear him.

The gap between the two strippers was quite short and basically spent going for a piss and getting another drink. Little chance to get further with Thomas and even the thought of that ‘further’ made Keith tremble with anxiety and anticipation; frankly, he had no idea how to go about it. The next stripper was a little blond guy with a moustache. Less muscle-bound and more of a swimmer type, still very fit but kind of cute and less threatening. He had something of a novelty routine, coming on as a sailor, but what Keith really noticed was that he had no pubes, he was smooth as a kid, except of course no kid had a dick like that. Intriguing perhaps, but not sexy.

When it was over, Thomas turned to him, “What do you think of the show so far?”, the guy had an intrigued expression on his face, certainly not one of great interest or excitement.

Keith shrugged his shoulders, “Cute enough guys, really, but I don’t think that the routines did much for me. Perhaps the next one will be better.”

Thomas pulled face, “I doubt it. The whole business is all a bit too clinical and anatomical for me. Have you seen the strippers here before?”

Keith shook his head, “I come mainly at the weekend, catch a couple of the drag acts. They are usually quite good value, there are a couple that are real comedians.”

Thomas looked at him, as if assessing his response, “Look, I can’t stay for too long, I have a long day tomorrow, so I need to be fresh. What do you say to giving up on the stripper, and going for a walk along the river, I’m pretty sure there are a couple of places we could catch a nightcap if we wanted? Straight pubs but serving decent beer.”

“Unlike here”, chimed Keith, the two both smiled, and Keith was secure in knowing he had found another beer lover.

So, they left. Thomas apologised for having to consult his phone, but he led them confidently enough past some striking Victorian buildings, once warehouses perhaps but now hotels and offices, down another lane and then left, and suddenly they were in a different world. Modern blocks with a well-lit walkway along the river. It wasn’t an area Keith had explored much, but people were wandering around. Keith remembered Bart’s warning words too late; he should have been a bit more careful about where he was being led. Thomas hoped that Keith didn’t feel he was missing out on the entertainment. Keith said no, he had only come because a client had cancelled, and he had free time and was curious.

They walked along slowly, trying to avoid people, exchanging bits of information. Thomas worked for a charity, and currently lived with his brother and his wife in a village North of Leeds. Then Thomas looked at Keith and said carefully, ‘My brother is a vicar’. Wow. Keith had little experience of vicars and such.

“Must be a bit strange, like, living in the vicar’s house”, Keith was thinking that it would mean no bringing guys back.

Thomas shrugged, “I’m used to it now, and Nate has no hang-ups about me being gay, but I have to be a bit careful not to dent his public image.”

Keith grinned, “So no taking rent boys back!”

Thomas returned his grin and playfully punched Keith, “Certainly not. As if I would”.

So, it was quite natural for Keith to add, “Not that I’d know, I didn’t admit I was gay to anyone, not even myself, until last year.”

Thomas’s eyes widened somewhat, and he took Keith’s hand in his, something Keith had never done before with a guy, “So all this is new?”

“Pretty much.”

“I can’t say that I’m that experienced either. After Uni I went to work abroad, in Africa, countries where being gay was at best frowned upon and at worst illegal. Nate has always known about me being gay, but it's only since I came back that I’ve been able to be open.”

Wow. They both certainly had quite a bit of what Greg referred to as ‘baggage’. But Keith decided he liked Thomas.

“I’d like to kiss you; would that be OK?”

Keith was somewhat taken aback, his previous (brief) hook-ups had hardly been polite like this, he nodded.

“Let’s go down here, it’s a bit darker and quieter.”

Not an alley, but a decently-lit cut-through, yet rather quieter. Thomas drew them into a corner of a building and pulled Keith to him. That’s all it was, a kiss; it seemed to Keith that it went on a long time. He had kissed plenty of girls, but not guys and Thomas was definitely an expert. There were hands too, of course, but they couldn’t go that far, could they? But it was surprisingly thrilling, just to be in such intimate contact with another guy, feeling tantalising parts of his body and generally, well, tingling like a teenager.

Eventually, they stopped, and Thomas grinned at him. Keith gave Thomas a sheepish smile back in return. They walked along a bit and found an unfashionably quiet bar, which was ideal for them. A last drink, but it had to be quick as Thomas wanted to get back home. They talked a little more about themselves, but only stupid stuff, Keith learned that Thomas was interested in the visual arts, in contemporary art in a way that Keith found somewhat puzzling (though he didn’t say this), over and above his involvement in a charity that brought art and artists to underprivileged schools. He was also a keen walker and suggested that they meet up for a walk on the moors. It couldn’t be for ten days or so, Thomas was going to be heavily involved in a conference and workshops, some of which his charity was hosting, so there would be little time for anything else.

All too soon, they parted, leaving Keith to drive home somewhat bemused. His time with Thomas had been short, but intense and he knew that he wanted to go further, and it seemed as if Thomas did, too. But Keith was uncertain about his ability to gauge other gay men. He felt his inexperience. But though he did not realise it, his previous thought showed the progress he was making, thinking about ‘other gay men’ in a way that meant he had unconsciously started to label himself as a gay man. To do so consciously would come in time.

By the time he reached home, he found himself humming happily. Getting back to the house brought him down with a thump, who could he talk to about it? Bart and Greg were away, and Keith was still scared at what the guys in the house might say if they found out he was queer. His Czech housemate, Jiri (commonly referred to as Joe) was in the kitchen drinking what smelt like some of his strange herbal tea (Keith had tried it once), and they got into a friendly chat. Jiri had been to a local pub with friends, other Czech workmen over here, and was curious that Keith had driven all the way into Leeds, but Keith passed it off as meeting an old friend. And that’s what it felt like, that he’d known Thomas forever.