Date: Mon, 23 Oct 2023 18:42:01 +0100 From: GemEl Subject: Night in the Glen I remember -- I can still picture the scene -- when Glen joked to me about us coming into the bar (the only gaybar of note in our city at the time) in the future and haranguing the young lads that `in our day we could have had any one of them'. Well, that `future' is now, 23 years later. We are not the 19year old babes we were back then. Not by a long way. And we aren't in that bar. Presently, me and Glen are sitting side by side, naked in the dark-room of one of the seedier gay saunas downtown, furtively going to the entrance, or to a small hole in the wall to check if anyone even half decent looking is around. Actually, if anyone at all is in the sauna besides us and the one or two far older gentleman downstairs who we have already politely declined. Me and Glen. Here again, just like we have been doing on and off these past two decades. What has changed? Well, we certainly have. I'm not going to blow my own trumpet. Suffice to say I was pretty alright looking back then. Never any problems getting attention. But Glen was seriously hot. He wasn't remotely camp. You'd never know Glen was gay. Well, gay-ish like myself. We've both had the occasional girl (or now, woman) friend. But mostly it's been the blokes. Back then, in 2000, Glen looked like one of these photogenic rugby players they get to do calendars for guys and girls; a pretty faced, blonde, but strongly built scrum-half for Australia or South Africa. Guys loved him. I never dated him or anything. We shagged a few times in the early years. He wasn't even in my circle of friends, though we were often in each others' company at the club (the scene was much smaller in those days). But where I did always meet him was here in this seedy sauna on a Friday night maybe a handful of times each year. For 23 years! We went from almost demi-god status at 19 among the usual crowd of mostly middle-aged to older dudes here at the beginning of the '00s, to what we are now- both shaven-headed to hide receding hairlines and greying, both with modest pot-bellies from beer and cheap food, both with saggy arses, love-handles, and both still gagging for a fit, luscious young jock ass to get our tongues and then hopefully our cocks into. That's the type we both savoured. Twinks we ok. But a healthy jock with a bubble ass and hefty donger was what got our juices flowing. And these were, for us, becoming rarer and rarer as we got older. Even the inexperienced twinks like us in our halcyon days who would still stumble in on a Friday night after the club were beginning to give us a pass. So, as things went on, we'd usually end up doing each other, the aid of a sauna porn movie on screen in the background to make up for our decreasing ability to find each other attractive. Or in the dark room as we were now. We'd both, as usual, had quite a few drinks before in the evening, I could smell the vodka off Glens breath. Was it gonna be the same tonight? I mean, it wouldn't be thrilling for him either if we ended up together. Glen stood up and jangled his still impressive man-meat. He belched before he spoke "im just going round to see if anyones in the steam room. You coming?" "nah" I said "ill wait for you here, man". In the darkness between us there was that silent agreement which pronounced that when Glen got back after having no luck in the steam room, we'd fall...flop.. into getting it on together and then part ways and go home. Till the next time. I heard Glens footfalls as he entered the exiting corridor from the darkroom. Suddenly I heard him stop, reverse course and come bounding back to my side "fuuuuck man!" he says "there's a fucking babe heading up this way. No shit man, he's a fucking stud! Take a look!!" Glen grabbed me by the shoulders and directed me over the little hole in the wall from which the stairs leading to this second floor of the sauna were visible. I peered through. Up from below came something that, if it wasn't a model from some American football jock porn of decent quality, it should have been. This guy was fucking gorgeous! About 21, built, blonde slightly curled crop of hair like you see so many of the lads wear now, sallow skinned and a face halfway between an angel and a seriously wet dream vision. "oh yeah!!" I whispered to Glen, my dick now gloriously returning to life unaided for the first time since coming in. Then the inevitable thought struck both of us that perhaps this golden boy would take only one, if at all, of us. Shit. How were we going to handle this?.... Well, turns out we needn't have worried. This guy was as filthy minded as fuck. Almost as filthy minded as us! We met him in the passageway to the dark room, waggled our stuff, got his interest and then proceeded down to the steam room together, and into the filthiest, sweatiest, sometimes funniest, but in any event most glorious three-way i have ever had. The lad dominated us older dudes like a pro. He planted his toned jock ass into Glen's face with it's anxiously waiting tongue, as I gobbled his fine salty ballsack from in front. Jeez, the taste of young jock meat and potatoes! Only taste better is his boyhole. I got some of that as afters. Glen was sweating like a hog. As we worked each side of this young god. The sport got rougher.- "little piggy having fun?!' hooted our young friend as he stood astride of Glen, now on all fours, and loudly cracked him across his ass cheeks. Glenn wailed in pain- not so unwelcome- and crawled like bitch towards me, while I was on my knees working my schlong at the sight. As I looked at Glen it broke into my thoughts; here was this sweaty, baldy, pudgy, pink-faced, middle-aged Glen, where used to be my mate Glen of 20years back - the achingly fuckable stunner of a 19year old jock he was when I met him first. His flushed, lined face, was now contorted in the pleasurable pain of having this miraculous young stud who we had had the fortune of running into in this abominable den, squatting over him and slapping his fat arse amid our present energetic orgy. I didn't know whether to laugh, or even cry at the debased state I saw my friend in. So, I just came instead. Spurted like the good old days. And Glen did two. And so did David (who we learned this hot hunk of fresh jock meat to be) suitably while standing, domineeringly over us two old lads lying between his golden calves. Me and Glen. Well, we've never really been that close. But then again, I don't think we'll ever be too far apart either!