Hi! This is an adult gay story if you aren’t an adult, or “gay” isn’t your thing, you’d better look for something else to entertain you. Cheers, Blake. 🔞

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Hi guys, I’m Seb, remember me?

Just to refresh your memory, the last time you heard from me, Kirk and I were on our way to Aberglide to attend an international climate conference. We had decided to make a holiday out of it and spend a few extra days at the beach in Blackwater Bay before the conference started. If you don’t remember, Kirk is my friend -cum- fuck buddy and, that time on the beach, well, one thing led to another... Anyway, I’ll leave a link here so you can read the whole thing: 1-Aberglide

Despite our best intentions, the beautiful sunny days, and a few more trips to the beach, for some reason probably not entirely clear to either of us, we didn’t have sex again after that first day in Blackwater Bay. Personally, I blame the conference: I’m a rather shy person, and the idea of ​​having to present my papers in front of such a large audience was getting to me. Of course, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to speak in front of other researchers, but this conference was particularly important and had major implications for addressing the challenges of climate change. I imagine Kirk was under the same pressure.

That’s not to say we didn’t enjoy our stay in the bay; on the contrary: we ate in lovely restaurants, took long walks, and cycled everywhere, enjoying the tranquillity of the surroundings. We both spent hours working on our presentations, finetuning the details and preparing for the big day. By the time we had to say goodbye to Rita, the owner of our cottage, we were ready for the next stage of our journey, adrenaline pushing us forward. Luckily, we were both scheduled to talk on the first day, which meant we could relax for the rest of the conference.

The train pulled in Aberglide just twenty minutes after we’d boarded at the tiny Blackwater Bay Town station. The difference couldn’t have been starker: thousands of people were going about their business, walking from platform to platform, heading for the tube station or taking the escalators to the station’s shopping mall.

Our hotel wasn’t far from there, so we decided to walk. When we came out of the station, we found ourselves in a jungle of impossibly tall skyscrapers, the ones we’d seen from the edge of the Blackwater Bay cliffs a few days earlier; some were simple rectangular structures, but others, the newest, soared skyward in haphazard shapes and curved lines, some looking like giant waves. The sidewalks were crowded, with long ordered lines forming at the red and yellow tram stops.

We walked in a kind of stupor: after the few days spent on the beach, we’d almost forgotten what it meant to be in a metropolis, even though we both lived in the capital, which was even larger then Aberglide, albeit surrounded by mountains.

We crossed a wide avenue, and suddenly the buildings became smaller and older, the streets narrower sloping downhill in a regular pattern toward the sea, which could be glimpsed in the distance between the constructions.

Our hotel was at the edge of the historic centre, an elegant four-story brick building dating back to the early 20th century.

We settled into our rooms, got changed and met again in the lobby about an hour later.

We spent the morning exploring the hotel neighbourhood. After lunch we had a little rest and then we took the subway to the -Aberglide Conference Centre-.

It was another warm, sunny day; the centre was close to the sea, a large, modern, wood-clad building that seemed to emerge from small, man-made mounds crisscrossed by cycling and pedestrian paths.

We followed the signs for Allerton Hall; the closer we got, the more people seemed to be walking in the same direction. They were of all, ages and races, but if there was one thing they had in common, it was a certain unashamed nerdiness, and that included the two of us, of course!

We walked under the vaulted entrance and found ourselves in a short, orderly line leading to the welcome desk. There were a few faces we recognized, some we admired: pillars in the world of climate change research. So, while we waited in line, we chatted with a few professors we’d met before.

When we reached the desk, the man standing behind it looked at us with a broad, welcoming smile.

“Professor Petridis, Professor Welsh. Nice to meet you again!” The way he said that -again- surprised me. Of course, we knew of Professor Rohan Kumar; he was one of the conference organizers and a highly respected researcher, but as far as I knew, I didn’t recall ever meeting him before.

I glanced at Kirk to see if there was any glimmer of recognition, but he seemed as surprised as I was.

“Oh, sorry, I’m talking about the beach...”

Let me be completely honest: I’m a pretty smart person, I don’t want to blow my own trumpet, but you know, I couldn’t do my job if I weren’t: I’m a scientist, after all, it’s in my job description! And yet, I’m not necessarily the sharpest knife in the drawer, because when I looked at Kirk for the second time, I saw him blush, and smile awkwardly back at Professor Kumar, giving the impression he wanted to die right then and there.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry. I really enjoyed it, actually. I’m the one who should apologize, after all, I wasn’t invited...” Professor Kumar had lowered his voice and let the sentence die in his mouth. He was a handsome man, in his mid thirties like us, a thick, short black beard covered his cheeks merging into a smooth moustache above his lips. When he smiled, his teeth looked incredibly white and his whole face lit up, including his, very dark, brown eyes. Despite his skin tone, the shade of black tea, I could see he was blushing too, perhaps aware that he had said something inappropriate for the circumstances.

He quickly changed the subject, handed us the welcome packs, and, just before we left, quickly slipped his business card into Kirk’s envelope.

“I’ll be done here in half an hour. Call me if you fancy a drink. There are lots of nice bars by the sea. I’d like that!”

I still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but Kirk said it would be a pleasure, shook his hand, and we left.

“What was that about?”

“Really, you didn’t guess?”

We were outside again, walking in the warm sun with our welcome packs in our backpacks and Kirk holding the business card in his hand. We were following the path that led to the beach.

“Help me.” I was clueless.

“At the beach, the first day at Blackwater Bay.”

“Yeah... so what?”

“You really can’t guess?”

“What? It was just us!”

“Not just us!”

And then it became obvious! After we had had sex, large drops of cum had fallen from the sky, or rather, from the small rock behind which we’d taken shelter. One had even hit my mouth. I remember licking my lips and kissing Kirk, before we burst out laughing and the stranger, who had just sprayed us with his jizz, apologized, saying that watching had turned him on so much.

Professor Kumar was that stranger! Of course, it made sense: it had been only a matter of seconds, but we had thought he might be Indian, and he was wearing a cap.

-Naughty Professor! Nice to meet you, too- I thought to my self sensing a familiar stir in my trousers.

“What are we going to do?”

“Well; it would be rude not to...” Kirk had already made up his mind, I knew it!

“Yes, very rude.” From what I’d glimpsed on the beach, Kumar had a nice, juicy cock, and at the reception desk, I’d noticed his toned body peeking out from under his not fully buttoned white shirt.

We were sitting outside at The Shoreline, a cute beach bar whose faux-tropical theme seemed fitting for the day. Kirk had called Professor Kumar, and now we could see him walking toward the bar from the same direction we’d come.

For the first time, as he approached, I managed to get a good full look at him: rather tall and athletic, he walked confidently. Over the white shirt he was wearing a blue linen jacket, that matched his trousers, and casual blue espadrilles. His hair, shorter on the sides and wavier on top, was now tucked under a green cap, probably the same one he had worn on the beach.

He saw us and walked over to our table. Before sitting down, he leaned over to kiss us on the cheeks as if we were old friends; his beard brushing my shaved skin for a moment too long.

The waiter arrived, and while I would have loved a beer, both Kirk and I had decided to take it easy and ordered iced teas instead, while Rohan, as he’d told us to call him, ordered a glass of white wine. He insisted on paying.

“So, I really have to apologize,” Rohan still looked embarrassed.

“No need, we actually loved it. It’s a shame you didn’t cum before us, it would have been even better!” Wow, I almost couldn’t recognize myself; I had to check there was no one sitting next to us. I laughed nervously, regretting I hadn’t ordered wine too.

“Did you know who we were?” Kirk was taking a more predictable path.

“No, I had no idea. I was actually quite disappointed because when I got to the beach, I seemed to be the only one there, and then I saw you in the water. It must have been freezing...”

“My balls almost fell off, actually”, it was true.

“…So I thought I’d wait in the bushes, see what’d happen. I know you saw me...” Rohan was looking at Kirk, who seemed to be suddenly under the spotlight.

“I thought I saw something move, but I wasn’t sure.” Kirk is a terrible liar, and I immediately knew he was trying to get out of it, but Rohan came to the rescue:

“Then you started, you know, messing around, it was very hot watching you. You guys are really sexy... and one thing led to another. I didn’t mean to cum on you, literally, but I let it too late…”

I didn’t believe him: I think that was exactly what he had wanted to do, and no complains about it from my part!

“A couple of days ago, I was scrolling through the list of guest-speakers, and when I saw your photos, something clicked. Of course I knew of you, but I wouldn’t have put you on the beach sucking each other off...”

“Professor! Watch your language,” I joked.

“I thought you had recognized me, so I decided that attack was the best line of defence and just be open about it”

“Very brave!” I wasn’t sure if Kirk was serious or not.

“So, guys, are you together?”

Kirk and I looked at each other. The obvious answer was no, but it seemed like we were both waiting to see who would reply first. Which turned out to be me.

“No, we’re not. We are, wait a minute because that’s my new definition. Drum roll, please.” Kirk drummed his fingers on the table.

“We’re best-fuck-buddies.”

Rohan looked unimpressed. “Isn’t that like being, hem … together?” he asked. To which I wasn’t sure how to reply.

Perhaps noticing the stall in the conversation, Rohan decided to throw caution to the wind and asked us if we wanted to have dinner at his place on the Sunday; once the conference ended.

“It’ll be something simple, just us and a friend,” The way he said it, and the way he raised his thick eyebrows, made it clear that food wouldn’t be the focus of the dinner.

He had slipped his hands under the table and was caressing our legs, getting dangerously close to my crotch and Kirk’s. I can speak for myself when I say my cock was already hardening at the thought of what would be on the menu; I was hoping Kirk was on the same wavelength. He looked at me.

“Sure, it would be a pleasure!” Well done Kirk.

We stayed at the bar a bit longer. The sun was setting, Kirk and I decided to take a stroll along the waterfront while Rohan headed back to the conference centre, where he had a few things to pick up before heading home. When we got out of the bar terrace, we said our goodbyes and Kumar wished us good luck for our presentations. Kirk was about to kiss Rohan on the cheek when Professor Kumar’s mouth caught his lips and forced them open with his tongue for a light snog. He then moved toward me and kissed me goodbye with equal enthusiasm.

This Professor Kumar knew exactly what he wanted and had no problem in getting it! I liked him.

A little disconcerted, but in the best of ways, Kirk and I began walking off into the sunset.

The metro ride from our hotel to Rohan’s neighbourhood, a leafy suburb on the edge of the metropolis, took about twenty minutes. Our presentations two days earlier had gone down very well, both because of the new data we’d presented, and the resulting promised political engagement and action. The conference had finished that day, just before lunchtime. That’s why Rohan had chosen that evening for our rendezvous. The fact that he told us to be at his at 4pm made us rather sceptical about the dinner aspect of the invite and kind of confirmed our suspicions that we’d be on the menu. It had been another sunny and warm day, probably the warmest since we’d arrived in the area. The walk from the metro stop to Rohan’s house took another five minutes, a stroll along quiet, wide streets lined with tall trees and elegant homes set at the back of spacious front gardens.

“Looks like our professor is doing well!” Kirk looked around, appreciating how each property was different and impeccably kept.

They definitely gave the impression that Rohan Kumar’s salary was way higher than ours. We arrived at the house, a 1970s-style bungalow oozing with retro charm. Its front yard consisted of a neatly trimmed lawn dotted with several trees that, being early spring, were covered in clouds of pink and white blossoms.

Kirk rang the doorbell, we heard an “A second!” coming from behind the door, and a moment later Rohan opened it with his usual welcoming smile. He was wearing beige cotton shorts, a bottle-green short-sleeved shirt, and Birkenstock-style slippers. I immediately felt overdressed, even though Kirk and I were both wearing only jeans and shirts.

“For you!” I offered him the bottle of Chablis we’d bought for the occasion, since that was the wine he’d ordered at the beach bar.

“Ah, thank you!” There was no need, come in, come in.” Rohan put an arm around Kirk’s waist as if to herd him in. Not before greeting him with one of his signature snogs. He did the same to me, this time with a decidedly more assertive incursion than at the bar. Once the door closed behind us, we all stopped in the small entrance hall.

“Nice to see you guys, again!”

Rohan was now between us, his arms around our waists in a three-way embrace. He tilted his head toward the centre of that triangle, and our mouths moved closer to meet his. This time we took our time, each stroke of the tongue deep, slow, and calculated. Making sure to share our attention between the three of us. It had been a long time since I’d shared Kirk with someone else, and I enjoyed the sensation of my tongue grazing the soft bristles of Rohan’s beard, then my friend’s clean, shaven jaw. And their kisses: Rohan was at ease, comfortable in any mouth, while I could sense Kirk’s assertiveness in mine, while following the professor’s lead.

And me? I think I was still trying to figure out what was happening, or rather, what kind of dynamics would follow, and loving every second of the process, my hands now caressing the backs of the other two men entwined in that tight embrace.

Rohan pushed us away reluctantly.

“How rude, I almost forgot!” He looked at us with an “oops” kind of expression and then shouted toward the kitchen. “Sorry, Ash, they’re just taking off their shoes,” which we actually had to do anyway, although I didn’t doubt for a second that the other person knew exactly what had been going on in the entrance hall.

We followed Rohan into the open-plan living room where Kirk and I looked at each other in surprise when, sitting on the sofa, we saw none other than Ashar Tan. The nation’s most beloved meteorologist and the official national TV go-to person for all things weather-related.

I’d always fancied him and, with him being ten or more years older than me, he’d always held the allure of a daddy. A very handsome man, of Malaysian origins if I’m not mistaken, with features that combined Oriental and Indian traits. He looked at us smiling, probably accustomed to the surprise he caused in those who unexpectedly met him—someone from the Telly! His arms were stretched out along the back of the couch, so that his mustard-coloured T-shirt was pulled tight across his chest, revealing a sculpted upper body: Daddy was in shape! He sported a short salt-and-pepper beard and medium-length hair combed back to form a small wave over his forehead.

His legs, smooth and defined like the rest of his body, were spread wide, so his green shorts didn’t hide much of the generous bulge that filled the midsection.

And so here we were, the four of us. Now, perhaps I should clarify: I said earlier that the conference attendees were a nerdy bunch. I’d like to point out that nerdiness isn’t directly related to a lack of physical attractiveness—au contraire! We’re a bunch of nerds because we’re attracted to nerdy things: statistics, methodology, research that might come across as boring to the rest of the population, and perhaps our dress sense isn’t exactly the latest fashion either. But that doesn’t stop us from exercising regularly or taking care of ourselves, as our quartet clearly demonstrated.

Kirk with his Scandi look: strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, a swimmer’s body, and a beautiful uncut cock I’d played with many times before. Rohan, whose body I hadn’t fully seen yet, but from what I’d glimpsed under his shirt and running my hands over his back, seemed pretty fit, and, of course his cock, plump and cum rich. I was probably the leanest of the four, a runner with a passion for Pilates and a body with Mediterranean features. The three of us were roughly the same age: in our mid to late thirties, and then there was Ashar, who was probably hitting the fifties mark. Again, I could only guess at his body from what I could see under his tight clothes, but I had the impression that he was the most muscular of or quartet.

Ashar got up from the couch to say hello. I was still a little dazed, and it’s a miracle I didn’t curtsey.

“Ash; Kirk and Seb.” Rohan introduced us while pouring white wine that was chilling in an ice bucket.

“Hi guys, nice to finally meet you! Congratulations on your presentations, they were excellent.”

I hadn’t realize Ashar was at the conference, but obviously it made sense.

“Thanks, yes, it went well. We finally seem to be heading in the right direction.” Kirk couldn’t take his eyes off him. I don’t know if he was itching to take his clothes off, if, like me, he was star struck, or both.

“We can finally relax. We’ve been working on those papers for so long and weren’t sure how they’d be received, but it went well, so...” It’s true, we’d worked hard, not just the two of us, but our entire team, so our failure or success would have repercussions on the entire Ebsom Centre where we work.

“Well, let’s relax then!” Ashar approached me, put his arms around my back, and started kissing me, his hands squeezing my ass while his tongue conducted a thorough investigation of my mouth. I was finding it all very surreal: me kissing my teen idol, Ashar Tan! But soon the feeling of his cock rubbing against mine brought me back to how flesh-and-blood the all thing was. Just as I was about to slip my hand under the back of his T-shirt, he let go of me and focused his attention on Kirk. Seeing them kiss and embrace made me want to unzip my jeans and get back into the action, but Rohan put a stop to that.

-Here are your drinks. Ash, what a beast, give it a second!- He seemed to have forgotten that he had done exactly the same thing a moment before in the hall.

Ashar let go of Kirk, who looked at me in disbelief. We grabbed our drinks and moved to the patio, which opened directly from the kitchen onto a large garden surrounded by a wooden fence and a wall of tall trees.

We sat around a table set with pitchers of ice water and various snacks.

Like the rest of the house, the lawn was meticulously kept, except for a large, square rubbery sheet that lay in a corner of the garden, which, I assumed, had been left behind by the landscaper.

The conversation shifted from discussing the conference to more personal questions; it turned out that Rohan and Ashar had met at a previous convention years earlier, things had taken off and they became fuck buddies. Naturally, the mention of the word fuck was followed by more casual touches, innuendos and shirts being unbuttoned while more wine was poured and copious amounts of water were gulped down to keep hydrated during that heatwave.

Eventually, it was Ashar who interrupted the conversation saying that he needed to piss. At first, I thought he’d put a bit too much emphasis on that announcement, but then Rohan looked at Kirk and me and said, a little shyly,

“I hope you guys don’t mind... oh, and feel free to join in!” He stood up, turned up the volume on the sound system and followed Ashar across the lawn and onto the rubber sheet. As he did so, he removed his clothes along the way, a bit like Hansel and Gretel marking the path home.

Rohan’s body was a gorgeous shade of tan, fuzzy with dark hair on his legs and chest; his ass was small, round and perky. As we remembered, his cock was chunky rather than long, a beautiful, thick tool, not yet hard, but with all the swagger of a semi.

Like the day he arrived at the bar, his gait was confident, the walk of someone who enjoyed being watched... as well as watching, of course.

Kirk and I still weren’t entirely sure what was happening, though in hindsight, I can confidently say we both hoped that what we were guessing was right. Kirk had already moved his hand to his crotch and was touching himself through the cotton of his jeans, adjusting his growing erection. Mine was also pushing against the zipper, especially since Ashar had also begun to undress.

It was hard to think that Ashar was almost fifty; that man’s body was rock solid. Not necessarily what I usually go for, but very hot nether the less. His muscles seemed painted on, strong, bulging, highlighted by the sun. Apart from his beard, his body was completely shaved, not a trace of a bush, only his long tool protruding like a snake from the base of his perfectly flat stomach. He held it in his right hand and tapped it against the palm of his left, looking at us with a smile; inviting us to join in. Like Rohan, he exuded a natural confidence; I understood why they got along so well. I couldn’t wait any longer; I’m usually the shy one: considering my dick is a grower, I feel less confident being seen naked when there’s so much cock around, but by then I was fully hard. My cock was struggling to fit inside its underwear cage. I took off my socks, jeans, and briefs and stood up. My shaft was standing long and veiny, its large mushroom-like head curving back toward my stomach. Still wearing my shirt, I started walking toward the other two men without waiting for Kirk.

Rohan went down, kneeling on the soft, rubbery sheet. Ashar stood before him, seemingly waiting to see what Kirk and I would do. I stopped at the edge of the sheet, stroking my cock and balls until I felt an arm across my chest. Kirk was behind me, unbuttoning my shirt, his hard cock slapping my ass. He tossed the shirt onto the grass, the contact of our bare skin through the soft layer of hair covering his torso made me twitch. He reached out for my cock, stroking it with lazy, gentle movements. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, as I reached out for his.

“What do you think will happen next?” he whispered into my ears, as we both looked at Ashar and Rohan, who were looking back at us with complicit smiles.

“We’ll find out in a second.”

We both knew very well what would happen next.

I hadn’t even finished speaking when the energy between Ashar and Rohan shifted, becoming more charged, more intense. They remained there, silent, but no longer looking at us.

And then a thin arc of piss shot out of Ashar’s slit, a perfect bridge that caught the sunlight and landed on Rohan’s handsome face. In an instant, his hair flattened, he ran a hand over his eyes as if wiping the piss away, but then he brought it to his mouth, sucking in the puddle that had formed between his thumb and forefinger. Ashar was patient, calculating, wanting the game to last. He moved closer to Rohan, who had opened his mouth, and took aim at it.

My cock was solid, hot and pumping, I was still caressing Kirk’s, its girth now pushing against my closed palm, every vein clearly defined, and suddenly I felt a warm liquid wetting my hand and my ass. I had waited so long for this moment, always too shy to ask, fearing it would ruin our chemistry, but I was wrong, and yet it had been worth the wait.

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Hi guys, I’m Kirk, this is my version of what happened on that day.

I first met Seb when I joined his team at ECHO, the climate change organization he was already working for in Darwent. He immediately struck me as the kind of guy I could get along with: a nerdy, bespectacled man with a great smile. It worked to his advantage that he was also cute, and his tight T-shirts revealed a lean, fit body. Like me he was in his early thirties. Within a few months, our friendship had taken an interesting turn when we started having sex with one other. But that’s for another chapter.

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And then came the trip to Aberglide. I hadn’t seen him much other that winter: I had been sent to do fieldwork in the north, while Seb remained at the ECHO centre with the data team. He was seeing someone, and when we did get together, it was mostly at social events with other colleagues. By spring, his winter romance was well and truly over, so when the invitation to speak at the Aberglide Interna…

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Hi guys, I’m Seb.

Let’s start at the very beginning.

That’s about three years before these events happened. I was a researcher at ECHO, the Ebsom Climate Change Observatory . That’s where I met Kirk when he joined our team. Both in our early thirties, we quickly became friends, buddies, really, and it wasn’t long before “fuck buddies” turned out to be a more appropriate term to describe our friendship. It was an -on and off- kind of thing: during those three years we both had partners at some point, and when that happened, the other would step aside. But our friendship never wavered, perhaps because in addition to enjoying each other’s company, we often spent time away together for our research studies.

That early spring we were travelling to Aberglide to attend an international conference for which we had each prepared a presentation. Since the conference would last four days, we had decided to make the most of it and turn it into a vacation, renting a cabi…

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