One day near my house, while returning from an after-work bike ride, I passed a nice-looking blond bear on the sidewalk. We exchanged backward glances until finally I rode back to ask an excuse of a question about if there was a grocery store nearby―a question to which I perfectly well knew the answer.
We started walking toward a store he mentioned (it was very close) and he said his name was Julian. I noticed he was even more handsome up close. Before he ducked into the store to get a six-pack, he invited me home for a drink.
At first I accepted the invitation but while I waited for him to come out, I remembered that I had to be home soon to meet another friend. I explained and apologized, traded phone numbers with Julian, and biked home. That evening I called Mateo, who called me an idiot and said I should have gone for it with Julian anyway. Oh, well.
A week later I was about to go out for another bike ride (I bike a lot, did I say?) but instead, for the heck of it, called Julian. I fibbed, saying I was already out biking and was about to head home, and… He asked I wanted to stop by for a beer―what bike ride?
I went up to his apartment with my bike and propped it against the wall, my obviously-not-sweaty (oops) T-shirt tucked into my dick-outlining spandex bike shorts. Julian handed me a beer and we sat on the couch talking. On a shelf was a picture of him taken a few years earlier and I was struck again by how handsome he was, then and now, with his runway-model cheekbones and strong eyes.
As we sat there, he drank two beers quickly and it occurred to me that he’d probably had at least one before I got there. I forget how we started getting more comfortable, but suddenly he was out of his shirt, then out of more clothes, then started to get me out of mine.
We made out naked on the couch for a little while until he jumped up, rummaged in a drawer, then came back with a little bottle. Julian opened the bottle and held it out, asking me if I wanted “poppers.” I declined. He held the bottle up to his nose and inhaled deeply.
I started to feel a little uncomfortable with him drunk and sniffing something that smelled like paint stripper (I didn’t know what poppers were). He said he wanted to watch me jerk off and held his face down close to my dick as I got busy. I wondered if he would try to suck me off as I came. He didn’t. And after my little show was finished, he seemed to want me to go, so I got dressed, wheeled my bike around, and left.
Although I often walked or biked past his apartment building, I never saw Julian again but I think I was OK with that.