I was standing outside the bank, on the phone, when he walked past. He said hello and I smiled and conveyed hello with my eyes as best I could without it looking like I had eye strain.

He went into the bank and I decided to wait there until he came out. I was testing.

He got the message and when he came out of the bank, he sidled up to me, I got rid of my friend on the phone and we chatted each other up.

We organised a date for a few days’ time, which he stood me up, thanks to bad luck. But he missed his flight to poland, so that we could try again.

After dinner, we still go along – reminiscing about 90s hip hop, so we walked back to his place, a studio flat, which meant: from front door, straight into the bedroom.

He was way more built than anyone else I had ever been with, and I found it intriguing, but ultimately intimidating – those massive muscles and the rounded arms.

Exploring him, I grabbed his cock and I could feel that it was a nice one – good size, smooth and hard. I started licking it, enjoying sucking it, but he pulled me up.

He was right onto the condom situation, so he sorted that out, flipped me over and went in quick.

it hurt going in, but he made me come really quick, gushing on his quilt cover. I was looking forward to more.

And then he lost interest. He went soft. something had turned him off, clearly, but he failed to mention it. And i couldn’t think properly.

it was awkward, as we tried to get it up a few different ways.

He lay back and said ‘actually, I think what I want is for you to suck me and finish me off’

Er, yeah, sure. There was something in the tone that set my alarm bells ringing, but he did have a nice cock, so I went back at it.

His directive started playing on my mind, creeping into my thoughts, then he started to shove my head right into it and that was me gone. Nope. Not into that shit.

‘You’ve got a very lovely cock, and I enjoy sucking it, but I don’t think I’m into doing it anymore’, I said, as I sat all the way up and started getting dressed.

‘OK’, he said. annoyingly generous and amenable to the odd and abrupt ending.

So we got dressed, made small talk about transport and getting home and
we parted with a mutual squeeze of the hand.

‘Good luck with everything’ I said.