A Chance Encounter

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All characters contained within are entirely fictional; any similarity to any real or fictional person living or deceased is totally unintentional. Do not read this story if you do not enjoy reading about consensual sexual activities of an exhibitionist nature. Otherwise read on……


It’s funny how life can throw a spanner in the works just when you’re least expecting it. Just by making one small decision and a chance encounter my whole life has changed course irrevocably…..

My tale starts in St. Ives on the north Cornwall coast one hot sunny Saturday afternoon early last summer (June to be precise). This place has been my second home for the last couple of years, ever since my sister Mel (or Melanie when I want to annoy her) split up with her husband leaving her to bring up three kids (Emma 13, Cayden 10 and Laura 9) by herself. I live and work in Truro but then most weekends drive down to St. Ives and stay with Mel at the weekend doing all the things that she needs a man to do around the house. This isn’t a situation I would have chosen but as the saying goes, shit happens and there’s no way I could bear the thought of her struggling all alone when I’m free, single and have plenty of spare time on my hands. Not when I consider all of the support she has given me over the years, but that is a story for telling another time.

I sat outside my favourite cafe on the harbour front, with a cup of coffee in front of me and people-watched (always a favourite past time of mine). In that moment I felt complete what with the sun beating down on me, the sound of people going about their business and the raucous cries of the sea gulls, just like I always did whenever I was by the seaside. I slowly sipped my way through my coffee willing the afternoon to last forever knowing that when I left my spot I would be going back to Mel’s to continue painting the garage doors. I had intended on having just the one cup but when the cute young waiter stuck his head round the door and asked if I would like another with a cheeky grin I couldn’t resist in agreeing to another cup of coffee, all the while undressing him in my mind!

And that was the first of the small decisions which started the chain of events. While I was drinking the second coffee I grew bored of people watching and paid more attention to the activity in the harbour, by now the tide was in and boats were now able to enter once more. Something about the yacht caught my eye, at the time I couldn’t say what it was but it kept drawing me back each time I looked away. Unable to bear it any longer I left my unfinished drink behind and made my way down to the harbour’s quay in an attempt to discover what it was that was attracting me so strongly. I casually leant against the harbour wall and watched passengers disembark from a local fishing boat all the while discretely surveying the yacht. Closer now I realised what had caught my eye, the yacht some twenty feet long had seen better days, the sails looked new but the paintwork was faded and peeling while the woodwork clearly hadn’t seen varnish for many years. I could just make out the yacht’s name “Pride of Lelant”. My feet had a life of their own and before I knew it I was crouching down beside the boat studying it’s disrepair in closer detail. On reflection this perhaps wasn’t the politest or most discreet course of action as I hadn’t waited for the owner to disembark. Sure enough I was caught slap bang in the middle of my studies by a gruff

“Can I help you?”

I looked up sharply in response to the voice, straight into his big brown eyes. Time stood still. Eventually I dragged my gaze away and I studied the rest of his face. Windswept chestnut hair framed his handsome masculine face accentuated by a thick but short cropped goatee beard.

“Well?” He asked with an expression displaying both amusement and impatience.

Shaking my head to bring me back to my senses I stammered

“N-n-no, I don’t think so not really. I was just admiring your yacht. Sorry if I’ve caused you any concern.”

He cocked his head studying me closely then clapped his hands, burst out laughing and exclaimed

“Well I never, as I live and breathe. You’re the last person I expected to bump into this part of the country! God, how many years has it been since we last saw each other?” He paused before continuing “You don’t remember me do you?”

At a loss by his outburst I simply shook my head while I frantically searched my memory banks for his face to no avail.

Still grinning he said “I remember now, the last time we saw each other would have been July 1997 in the main hall at school when we collected our GCSE A-Level results. We then went our separate ways both hoping to go to University. Does it ring any bells yet?”

“Umm. Sorry no. Are you sure you know me? What school are you talking about?” I replied, still confused.

“Absolutely. You are Luke Farando, the school we went to was Stoneleigh Comprehensive in Reading and we were in the same class for Maths demetevler escort and Chemistry. Do you need any more clues?”

The proverbial light bulb lit above my head and the connection was made. With a theatrical groan, I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand.

“Duh! Of course….. You’re Gary Huggwell. How could I forget you? We used to be good mates at school but we lost contact when we went to University. I feel awful now; I should have made more effort to keep in contact.” The last statement was said in all sincerity considering the fact that he had gone from spotty geek to handsome god.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself.” He smiled in response “I could have made more effort too but you know what it’s like…. hey, what are we doing yakking like this. We need to catch up properly. What are you doing tonight? How about going for a bite to eat and a pint?”

“I’m sorry I can’t tonight, I’ve really got to go back to my sister’s house and continue with the painting I’m half way through. But if you’re free tomorrow I’m definitely up for it.” I replied hoping that I hadn’t blown it.

“No that’s cool. I will have to do some work tomorrow on the old girl here” he said patting the yacht’s handrail “and take her out for a spin. Why not join me, I’ll show you that she’s not as rough as she looks and we can take a trip up the coast and stop for a bite to eat.”

Trying to disguise the obvious relief in my voice I agreed to his proposition and arranged to meet him on the quay the following morning. Walking back to Mel’s house I had a definite spring in my step and as I painted the garage door I laughed and joked with Cayden who was doing his best to help me. More than once Mel gave me an odd look from the kitchen window but kept her thoughts to herself. Over dinner I casually mentioned the events of the afternoon and that I would be out most of the day tomorrow, I tried to keep my voice as casual as possible but I had the distinct impression that Mel saw through my act. With a twinkle in her eye she asked who I was meeting, I replied that it was just an old school friend and that I’d tell her all about it tomorrow evening. I then swiftly changed the subject.


Sunday morning was as bright and sunny as the previous day so I dressed accordingly in shorts, T-shirt, hoody and trainers and positively bounced down to the harbour quay as agreed. Already waiting for me was Gary and his shabby yacht, on my approach he put down the paper that he had been reading and smiled warmly.

“Morning Luke, did you have a productive and enjoyable afternoon?” he enquired. “Climb on board.”

I did as I was bid and sat down next to him before responding with “Yeah, I guess I did. Well productive in the fact that I completed painting the garage doors as promised, but enjoyable? No, not when compared to messing around on the water! Just out of curiosity, you mentioned that you were going to be doing some work on the boat but I see no tools, have you changed your mind?”

“On no, I’m only here to pick you up before I take you back to my usual mooring spot where we will be working this morning. Stopping at the quayside is strictly time limited; I was only here yesterday to pay my licence fees to the harbour master. It was purely by chance that I was here at all, I normally avoid the town at weekends as it’s simply too busy for me.” Gary informed me as he untied the yacht, started the engine and manoeuvred the boat out of the harbour and into the bay before heading inland up the estuary.

We didn’t speak much during the journey as Gary seemed in a world of his own and I was happy to watch the views of the estuary and the banks glide serenely past. Occasionally I would glance over at him, catching my breath as I did so; the sea breeze blew his hair back forming a burnished copper mane and as he unconsciously thrust his chin forward I could not help but be reminded of a ship’s figurehead I had once seen in a maritime museum. At one point he caught my stare, looked over at me and winked before returning his attention to steering the boat. I guess it must have taken nearly three quarters of an hour to reach our destination; all the way we had been fighting against the receding tide as well as the river current. Gary brought the yacht up gently to the jetty with only the gentlest of bumps before jumping out and tying it up securely, then inviting me to join him on the jetty. Standing there I immediately realised that this had to be a private mooring as it led directly to a gravel path meandering through an immaculately kept garden. At the end of the path stood to a large turn of the century house, again in immaculate condition. Whoever lived here put a lot of time and effort into its upkeep. I’d say it must have at least five bedrooms. I whistled my appreciation and expressed my thoughts to Gary. He nodded and confirmed that I was close, it had originally had six bedrooms but three had been converted to create a small apartment which he rents otele gelen escort from the property owner. He offered to show me the apartment later if I was interested. I confirmed that I would love to see it but first I was dying to see the inside of the yacht and what work he had done on the boat so far.

Nodding his agreement he stepped back on board the boat and gave me an informative guide around it. He had apparently bought it a couple of years ago for a nominal sum of money from the owners of the house because it was in such poor condition. In fact originally it didn’t even float! But slowly and surely with help from friends and contacts in the local community he had returned it back to being structurally sound. All that remained to be done was the cosmetic work like repainting the hull and interior along with varnishing all of the original woodwork. I was very impressed and said as much considering how much work was involved, even if he had had help. Gary clapped me on the shoulder delighted and thanking me, saying that it meant a lot to him. Most of his friends laugh at him having decided that he’s become obsessed with his hobby and forgetting just how much money and effort has been invested in the boat. Suddenly he appeared a little uncomfortable and to change the subject he ducked down inside the cabin before returning with sandpaper, brushes and a can of varnish. Having been given instructions on how to correctly sand the hand rails I set about the task I had been given. It was hot work under the cloudless summer sky and I quickly shucked my hoody and T-shirt but still the sweat dripped from me, the only relief I had was from a faint breeze which had all but died since our mooring the boat.

“Hey dude! You must work out to get guns like that, I’m so jealous!” Gary announced abruptly making me jump.

Standing up I turned around and replied “Uh thanks, um yes I do a little gym work I must admit. I do it partly because I find it therapeutic after a stressful day at work and partly to lose the excess weight that I normally carry. But you’re right it does have the added advantage of buffing up my body somewhat.” I said looking down my body with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

Then deciding to be a little playful I flexed my guns and asked if he would like to feel them. To my surprise without a word he stepped up to me and explored not only my biceps but also the muscles of my chest and abdomen. He did it with confidence as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do, evidently satisfied with what he found he stepped back shaking his head.

“Jeez man, I sure wish I had a body like yours. No matter how hard I work out I just don’t fill out one little bit, it’s so frustrating. See have a look.” He said before stripping off his own T-shirt revealing a slim but toned torso, sun tanned with just a smattering of hair across his chest which shone coppery in the bright sunlight.

Trailing a hand across his torso I agreed that whilst he might not be as bulked up like myself but his muscles were just as hard and pleasing to my eyes at least. Then I decided to chance my luck by adding that I bet the rest of his body was just as slim but equally toned with the slightest of smiles on my face. Instantly catching my drift and with a wink he assured me that I if I wanted to check for myself then I would have the opportunity later this afternoon but for now there was still another hour’s work to be done before stopping for lunch while waiting for the tide to turn.

What a slave driver! I thought but as I had volunteered to work what could I say? Nothing of course. So with a mock salute I returned to the task at hand and did my best to get as much done as possible. Having got so focused on the sanding I lost all track of time and before I knew it I heard a female voice announcing that it was time for a break and lunch was served. Looking up I saw a mature but elegant looking lady, perhaps in her late fifties and what I would call one of the twin set and pearls brigade but very likeable all the same. Gary introduced me to her announcing that I used to be his best friend at school and that we have only just been reunited etc. Frances (the lady) clapped her hands enthusiastically and became all girlish before with a giggle announced that she had thought of the new name for Gary’s yacht which would be very apt – ‘Reunion’.

There was a moment’s silence as we thought about her suggestion before we both nodded and agreed it was very suitable indeed. The decision was made so from now on the yacht would be called Reunion and her name would be painted onto the hull once the new name had been registered. We spent the next couple of hours eating the lunch she had kindly provided and chatting about what Gary and I had been like as kids, the escapades we had got up to until we parted company when we went to university. Finally Gary stood up announcing that the tide was in and that it was time to put the old lady through her paces on the balgat escort open sea. So we quickly packed away the impromptu picnic, thanked Frances for the food and made our way back to the yacht.

Our journey back to the estuary and then the open sea was quicker as the tide and current was with us and within half an hour we were sailing past the headland beyond St. Ives. As I was a complete novice to sailing Gary told me to sit back and enjoy the ride this time, next time I would be expected to help him. I did as I was told and sat on the seat next to the steering wheel and took in as much of the experience as possible. The way the boat sliced through the waves, the way the sea sprayed across us every time we hit a wave, the way the sun glinted off the water and most of all the joyful expression on Gary’s face as he set a course only known to him. We broadly followed the coastline, just keeping it in view and seemed to have been going for miles and miles but on reflection I suspect it wasn’t all that far. We rounded one more headland and came across a secluded cove well off the beaten track. According to Gary there was no access to the cove by land, it could only be reached by boat and he suspected even then not many knew of its existence. We sailed into the cove until we were about thirty feet from the shoreline when Gary dropped anchor announcing that we had arrived. He stood up and quite casually pulled his T-shirt over his head; folded it and putting it on his seat before bending down and removing his trainers and socks. Standing upright again he gave me a cheeky grin before taking hold of his shorts waistband and pushing them sharply down to his ankles before stepping out of them. I held my breath as he was now only standing in his underpants and his slim brown body was a sight to behold, nowhere could I see the trace of a tan line and said as such having licked my lips several times. Looking me straight in the eye and not breaking my gaze he simply pushed his pants down, stepped out of them before unconsciously releasing his cock and balls from their confinement.

Holding his arms out straight he slowly spun round until he faced me again and asked “So what do you think?”

So what exactly did he mean by that? Was he referring to his body? His tan line? His tackle? The boat? The Cove? Or what?

Playing for time I asked him to rotate once more, this time I took time to study him from head to toe as he did so. He didn’t have a trace of a tan line anywhere that I could see. His whole body was fit, trim with no trace of fat and as for his bum…. mmm it was so small and pert I just wanted to grab it in both hands! Then as he faced me once more I noticed his cock had swelled a little and showed considerable promise when fully grown.

Gary looked down at me slightly impatiently and asked “Well?” with hands on hips.

“Very nice indeed.” Was all I could think of to say.

“What is?” Gary asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Everything, it’s all so perfect.”

“You’re impossible. You haven’t changed one little bit after all these years! You never would give a straight answer to anything. Come on, I’m going for a swim, are you joining me or staying on the boat?” With that he climbed up onto the walk way and gracefully dived into the sea surfacing some ten feet away.

In for a penny in for a pound I thought, so I quickly shucked my clothes too and dive bombed into the sea creating an all mighty splash on landing. Sheez the water’s cold was my initial reaction as my bum hit the water and then I was fully immersed in the cold stuff. As I surfaced I took a deep breath and tried to control my shivering, to no avail as Gary had already spotted my reaction.

“Come on you softy, race you to the beach!” he called out and promptly started swimming off doing a fast crawl.

I was no match for him, I never was a fast swimmer, doing the breast stroke or doggy paddle is about my limit. By the time I was halfway to shore he was already sitting on the dry sand shaking the water out of his hair and allowing the sun to dry his body naturally. I took my time swimming the remaining distance as from my vantage point I was getting an excellent eyeful of his tackle hanging relaxed between his thighs. Despite myself I was getting aroused at the thought of kneeling down between his legs and sucking on his salty cock, by the time I stepped out of the water and over to where Gary sat I was sporting a fully fledged hard on. I made no attempt to hide it, there was very little point as he had already seen it and had raised his eyebrows.

Plonking myself down beside him I asked “Does this bother you?” pointing at my erection.

“Good god no, of course it doesn’t! After all it’s not the first time I’ve seen you naked, remember all the communal showers we had at school after the games lessons? It’s just that you’re a lot bigger than I seem to remember in more ways than one.” Gary answered making a point of looking me in the eye.

Gathering my thoughts together I broke contact and studied the views all around me; the surf breaking gently on the shore below us, small white clouds dotting the sky, the sun shining brilliantly overhead, the seagulls riding the updrafts from the beach and over the vertical cliffs behind us. Before I spoke I leant backwards supporting myself on my elbows and stretched my legs out in front, wiggling my toes as I did so.

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