My first Gay experience - Sex Stories

My first Gay experience

... me!" he wailed. "You fucking groped me!" I pointed out, "What the fuck do you think I am? fucking queer or something?" "Well you're a Lib Dem aren't you?" he asked. "No I'm fucking BNP," I insisted, "Al's a Lib Dem not me." "Fuck!" he said, "Sorry," he said awkwardly, "It's lucky you missed my nose!" "Still fucking time," I said, "You better fuck off while you can still walk." "It's my bed!" he protested. "So," I says, "You can still fuck off, you can sleep in the fucking yard for all I care!" Fair play he slipped away and left me nursing a bruised fist and a hard on, I thought of Pippa Middleton's ass and then I didn't have a hard on but there was a big sticky patch in Desmond's bed and I went back to sleep. "Wake up!" the alarm bells was clanging again, the room was ablaze with blinding light as someone hit the light switch, I clenched me ass cheeks, but it was Al, "That cunt tried to bum me!" he said, "We got to get away!" "Join the fucking club," I said, "I twatted him." "So did I," Al agreed, "We better fuck off." "Right," I agreed, as I saw Al wearing a silk dressing gown, "Where's your kit?" "Where' yours?" he asked. I looked around, "Fuck knows," I said, "Shit!" Al opens a wardrobe, it must have been their dressing up room, fucking women's stuff in man's sizes. "We got to fuck off," Al says again. "Yeah," I agrees, "You thinking what I'm thinking?" "No fucking way!" Al replied but Lionel was downstairs. "Police please, I want to report an assault." There was a nice ...

... blue dress, knee length, the shoes was a bit tight and the two inch heels fucking awkward, and a womens coat what stunk of piss and had a £3 Oxfam label attached. "You know," Al says, "You could pass for me Grandma dressed like that, she been dead two years!" He found something, I ain't sure a Miniskirt and tight top was an idea but the red wellingtons was better than the two inch heels I was lumbered with and then he stuck a white doctors coat on and we fucked off. "Where do you think your," Lionel said before Al twatted him again and he went down like a sack of King Edwards. "Where the fuck's the van?" I asked as we stumbled into the street. The world was grey in the early morning light, soft rain hung in the morning mist mingled with smuts from the iron foundry, "Down the fucking pub!" Al says. "Where the fuck are we?" I asks. "Well the sun rises in the west," Al says like a pillock. "East," I says, "Where's the fucking railway?" "There," says Al, pointing, "Fuck we're fucking miles from our place!" "Can you run in those wellies?" I asked, "Because it will be fucking light soon and no way do I want any fucker seeing me dressed like this!" "Too right," Al says, "Come on!" and we legged it. We managed a hundred yards or so, "Me ankles!" I complained. "Me nuts are freezing!" Al complained, "How the fuck do birds manage?" "They don't have nuts?" I suggested. "Fucking clever dick," Al snorted, "Fancy thumbing a lift?" "Dressed like this?" I asked, "Get real!" I chucked the shoes ...