The White Van Man Guy

This one took place not long after I first moved to London, which is a long time ago now. I was seriously into clubbing back then, and on this particular occasion I had been out at a famous Saturday night/Sunday morning club in Farringdon. As usual it was pretty hedonistic, packed with Muscle Marys and everyone drugged up to their eyeballs, me included. I never had much success with men there, because they were all so gorgeous that I guess I thought they were out of my league. This night was no different, so I end up leaving on my own and start to walk home, which in those days was just south of the river in Borough.
The sun is already up, but it's very early Sunday morning so there is not really anyone around. I am walking down the main road that leads to one of the bridges that will take me across the Thames towards my flat, when a white van drives up next to me and pulls up a bit ahead of me on the other side of the road. I glance over, and see that the driver is winding his window down and looking over towards me.
He catches my eye, and shouts something over at me - not shouting in an angry way, just trying to attract my attention. I can't hear him, probably due to the fact that I am slightly deaf after a night spent dancing next to an enormous set of speakers, so I cross the road and walk over to the van.
'Want a lift?' says the driver. He's Asian, young and handsome with lovely big eyes and a strong, thick neck.
'Erm....I'm not sure,' I say, because this all seems a bit strange.
"Where are you walking to?' he asks.
'Down to Borough,' I reply, giving the name of square where I live.
'Why don't you get in, I'm going that way anyway,' he says, so I do.
'Been out clubbing?' he asks, so I tell him about my evening as he starts up the van and we head off down toward the river.
He seems nice enough, and although I know this is an odd situation I feel quite comfortable here in this van with this stranger, probably due to the large amounts of drugs that are still coursing through my veins.
We pull up at some red lights, and he goes quiet. I look out of the window at the empty pavement, and when I look back I see that he has pulled his cock out and is playing with himself. He looks across at me and smiles nervously.
'Do you want a hand with that?' I ask, reaching across and cupping it in my hand. He's not hard, but he's getting there. Its a nice fat one, brown and stubby with loads of curly black pubes sticking out his fly.
I massage it lightly as we drive along. It only takes a few minutes to get back to the flat, but we don't say much as he is concentrating on trying to drive as I gently wank him off.
'Do you want to come in?' I ask as he draws up outside my building.
He hesitates, then nods as he stuffs his cock back into his jeans.
Inside the flat, we go straight to my room. I start to kiss him, but I can tell he is not comfortable with that. He keeps pulling away, so eventually I stop.
'I'm going to the bathroom,' I say. 'I won't be long'.
By the time I get back he is in my bed, He's taken his sweatshirt off, and he's got a good body, with a big round chest and a line of thick hair running down his belly. I strip down to my pants and get in next to him, which is a tight squeeze because it's a single bed.
I start to play with his soft brown nipples. then start to suck on one and stick my hand down under the duvet. He is naked, and his cock is harder now, although still not as hard as it could be.
He moans lightly as I start to pull on it.
Meanwhile I still have my pants on and he doesn't seem interested in taking them off for me. He just lies there and lets me get on with things. After a couple of minutes I pull the pants off myself, working myself down the bed at the same time, then I double over and take his chubby cock in my mouth.
I start to suck on it, rolling his foreskin back with the tip of my tongue, but it tastes strange, bitter with a nasty chemical sting. I carry on for a few seconds, then let it drop out of my mouth and sit up.
'Your cock tastes funny,' I say.
'How do you mean,' he says, looking surprised.
'I don't know, just funny,' I say, trying to sound kind of relaxed about it because I don't want to hurt his feelings.
'Maybe I should go and give it a wash,' he says.
'Maybe you should,' I say, and give him directions to the bathroom at the end of the hall.
So off he goes to the bathroom, not bothering to put any clothes on before he steps out into the hall. He is a sexy guy, his arse is big and meaty, sitting squarely at the top of muscly thighs, but it's pretty obvious that he is clueless when it comes to sex. I realise by now that sucking him off as I wank is about is good as this is going to get. I'm hard, so I play with myself half-heartedly as I wait for him to come back.
He's away for a long time. The minutes tick away silently, then I hear some scuffling around in the hall outside, doors opening and closing.
My bedroom door opens and he steps back in. He looks flustered.
'I walked into the wrong room,' he says.
'Did you?' I say with a smile.
'It's not funny,' he says. 'I walked into your flatmate's room, and she saw me.'
'Oh, don't worry about her,' I say. 'She's seen worse,' which is true enough, and I laugh.
'But I was naked,' he says. He looks very uncomfortable now.
'Honestly, its not a big deal,' I say.' Why don't you get back into bed.'
He shakes his head, and reaches down for his pants. He pulls them on, and then starts to get into his jeans.
'Are you off then?' I ask.
'I think I'd better,' he says.
'Fair enough,' I say, and lay back on the bed and carry on wanking myself off.
He fumbles around, getting tangled up in his clothes as he struggles to get dressed as quickly as he can.
'Well it was nice to meet you,' I say with a smile, looking over at him and trying not to laugh.
'Sorry mate,' he says sheepishly as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head and walks towards the door. I'm quite relieved he is going, it was obvious from the start that this wasn't really going anywhere.
I let him see himself out. I hear the slam of the front door, which is right next to my bedroom, and a couple of minutes later I shoot a spray of thick spunk over my stomach. I wipe it off with my discarded pants, drop them on the floor, then drift off to sleep
I have a good laugh about it with my flatmates when I eventually get up that afternoon. For some reason the girl whose room he walked into thinks the guy was a dark, swarthy Italian, so I have to put her right on that one.
Afterwards I decide that getting into a van with a stranger is not really a very clever thing to do. I resolve never to do it again, not that I have ever had the opportunity anyway.