Richard sighed, turning his face up into the spray to rinse off. He was thinking too much. Hank's offer was a simple act of politeness. It didn't mean anything. They were just going to dinner. It wasn't the first time he'd been out with an acquaintance to eat. Was Hank an acquaintance, or did he dare call him a friend? They'd seen each other a lot more recently, either by design or happy coincidence. Sometimes, he might almost think it was deliberate, the way he lingered. The way he lifted him down from the fence was even more suspect, though it would be a lie to say he didn't encourage it. Had Hank noticed the way he leaned into it when his hands strayed beyond the bounds of politeness? Probably not. He was likely too decent for that. Any stray touches were probably an accident.

He couldn't help thinking back to when he'd taught him to catch Nines. Those firm hands on his hips. How his ass had bumped his thighs. That growling voice in his ear. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Maybe it wasn't as salacious as he recalled. Richard sighed as his cock twitched, running a hand through his sodden hair as it slowly filled out. It had been a while since he'd indulged himself, but was this really the right time? He was meeting Hank in less than an hour to head into town. But I can hardly meet him like this. There was no way his smart trousers would hide the bulge.

Closing his eyes, Richard gripped his cock and started stroking back and forth. He didn't tighten his hand at first, barely running his palm over the soft outer skin. Water still cascaded over his head, spilling over his eyes and mouth until he leaned out of the spray with an arm on the wall. Was it weird to think of Hank at a time like this? Probably. The man was much older and larger. That just seemed to do it for him more. It was so easy for Hank to lift him, even with one arm. He seemed to weigh nothing at all. He'd be like a koala on a tree if he picked him up properly. What did that mean for his cock? Oh-fuck!

If his cock matched his body size, he didn't even think he'd be able to take it. He'd tried it before, sure. He went to an all boy's school. They'd all done their share of experimenting, some more than others. Some with less choice than others. Being small came with its own disadvantages. His thighs had been fair game for pretty much anyone back then, but only a privileged few had the knowhow or inclination to use his ass or mouth. A few who knew what they were doing and wouldn't let amateurs ruin the good thing they had going. The memories made him bite his lip and whimper. Would Hank be like that? Would he stretch him slowly while murmuring gentle assurances that it would get better?

Richard turned and leaned his shoulders on the tiles, freeing up his hand and reaching back to squeeze his ass. He didn't really do that sort of thing these days. Being so focused on work had killed his libido somewhat. He'd had lovers on occasion, but they were often quiet, fleeting affairs. Something to get out the pent up frustration. Discrete and away from the public eye. What would people think of him now as he teased his ass and jerked off to the thought of an older man? Maybe they wouldn't be too surprised, having never seen him with a woman. Luckily, being a jockey, he was considered a D list celebrity. Only people who were into racing knew him by name, and to the public at large he was a nameless face. They might know him from somewhere, but they rarely knew where.

Tightening the hand on his cock, Richard slowly teased a finger against the hidden ring of muscle. He didn't push inside. That wasn't really his thing, but it felt good to tease the outer muscles. A sharp hiss slipped out as he imagined how Hank's fingers might feel doing the same thing. His fingers were much larger than his own. The stretch would probably hurt if he pushed in more than one. It would burn, but maybe it would be a good burn. The pain always got better in the long run, though he didn't think anything could properly prepare him to sit on that cock.

His legs quivered as he parted his thighs a little further and lowered his hips. The tiles were cold on his back, but the new position gave him more room to press and circle the gradually softening ring. He hummed softly, dark eyes fluttering as he pumped and squeezed his cock and imagined it was Hank's hand. Steam billowed in the tight space, making his pants even more laboured. Water pattered across his body, gushing over his hand and cock to wash away the beading droplets at the tip. A moan caught in his throat as his entrance loosened further, soft muscles almost inviting the tip of his finger inside. He didn't push further, content to tug and tease the twitching ring.

What would it feel like to kiss Hank? To feel those scruffy whiskers brushing his lips? Where else would he kiss? Perhaps his neck. Tilting his head, he could just imagine the trail Hank's lips would follow. Nipping his lobe, growling in his ear about what a needy little prude he was and telling him he'd soon sort that out, Hank would move lower. He'd nip and kiss his way down his neck and shoulder to tease his chest, lingering on his hardened nubs just long enough to make him squirm. Once he was suitably hot and bothered, maybe he'd keep going. The thought of Hank's lips around his cock made him whimper. He couldn't help imagining how he'd lick and suck, deliberately scratching those whiskers on the sensitive skin.

Richard whined and squeezed his eyes shut, jerking faster and bouncing his ass against the tiles. He could almost feel Hank's scratching whiskers and imagine how he'd grip his ass to pull him closer, sucking him all the way down and holding him there, swallowing around him until he came. The thought of him swallowing was too much, making him spill over his hand with a strangled whimper. He was a little breathless afterwards, panting as he pushed himself off the wall for a final rinse. Stepping out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and approached the steamed up mirror on quivering legs. Wiping the wet glass, he stared at his spent reflection, shaking off the blissful haze. His cheeks were smooth and flushed, freshly shaved before the shower, where he'd used the spray to ensure all the foam was washed off.

Letting himself dry, he set about finishing his routine. Face cream to soothe his sensitive skin, and a dab of the cologne he usually wore for business meetings. It was an expensive brand. Spicy, with a fruity undertone. A gift from Allen on his last birthday. His cheeks felt soft and smooth, thanks to the five bladed razor he used. Electric razors were fine, but they just didn't have the same glide. He liked the feel of the blades pulling across his skin, leaving clean tracks of flesh in their wake as the foam was swept away. It risked leaving nicks in the skin, but it felt like a much closer shave.

Done with his face, he moved on to the rest of his skin, taking his time as he dropped the towel and squeezed out some thick white cream. It was rapidly heading towards summer, so his skin wasn't as dry as usual, but it never hurt to add a little moisture. He was thorough, rubbing and massaging the cream over his body until his skin was smooth. Sticky creams were awful and Richard was quite picky with the brands he used. This cream was rich enough that it soothed his skin, but didn't leave a tacky feeling behind afterwards. It had taken a long time to find such a cream, and it was well worth the price. He'd always been prone to flaky skin, so moisturising was a must. His arms and legs were generally the worst, so he took care to massage a healthy layer across the skin.

When he was younger, he used to think he was too hairy. It wasn't really that he was hairy, but the hair on his arms, legs, and chest was a lot darker than his pale skin. The dark hair had resulted in a few unflattering nicknames when it first grew in, which led to him shaving it. That had also drawn its fair share of notice. Towards the end of high school, he'd learned to live with it, and since most other boys had a healthy layer of fuzz by then, it largely went unnoticed. The hair was soft as his fingers ran over it, now dry and curled as usual.

The next thing to think about was his hair. Fresh from the shower, the thick strands were slowly drying, leaving stray curls across his brow. He could leave it fluffed and natural, brush it back and hope for the best, or use a little gel or hairspray to keep it in place. It wasn't a date, but he was going out for dinner. For business meetings, he usually gelled it back to look a little more professional. This isn't a business dinner...The gel would make his hair a little sticky, so he'd probably end up showering later to get it out if he put it in. Running his fingers through the strands, he frowned and reached for the comb. Once he'd brushed it, he turned his head this way and that. It looked pretty good. Neat but casual.

Leaving the bathroom, he pulled on some boxers and headed for the wardrobe to look through his suits. He was going for dinner, so it made sense to dress formally, but it was only a local pub, so how formal was too formal? A full four piece suit would probably be too much, but he did look good in a waistcoat. The sharp cut hugged his lithe figure and emphasised his shoulders and waist, but he wouldn't wear it without a tie, and that definitely seemed too formal for a modest country pub. Would a three piece be too much? It was a country pub, but he was going for dinner. He wasn't sure he could recall a time he'd been to a restaurant without dressing up.

His grey suit was nice, and the colour was soft and muted. It was made of a rich, silky-feeling material, but it wasn't shiny like the more gaudy ones you could buy. He'd never been a fan of that type of material, finding the glossy sheen made them look cheap despite the high cost. It was a four piece, but he didn't have to wear all four parts at once. Taking the suit and a white shirt, he headed to the bed and rummaged in the drawers for his garters. This wasn't a business meeting, but he'd be damned if he was going out looking like an intern. He pulled the elastic up to his thighs, sliding it up mid-way until the straps felt snug. After that, he buttoned his shirt and fastened the garter clips, adjusting them until the shirt was neatly pinned down. There was enough give in the smaller straps that he could move and bend comfortably, but they were tight enough to keep his shirt neat and tucked at all times.

Those weren't the only garters. Just as he liked his shirt to be pinned down, he also couldn't stand having to continually pull his socks up. He could feel it when they slid down, and he hated the feeling as they pooling at his ankles. The solution to that was sock garters, so a further two rings looped and clipped around his calves, and two smaller straps on either side pinned each sock in place. They were considered outdated and old-fashioned to anyone outside the business world, but they were practical and functional. He paused by the mirror on his wardrobe and turned this way and that, tracing the black straps on his flesh and making sure the clips were properly fastened.

Satisfied, he pulled on the grey trousers and looped a soft brown belt around his waist. The suit was fitted, so it sat on his waist perfectly even without the belt, but he always liked to complete the look. He paused as the silky silver tie caught his eye. It had been a while since he'd worn this suit properly, and it was one of his favourites. He slipped on the tie and neatly turned down the collar before pulling on the waistcoat. It was too much for a casual dinner, of course, but the way the waistcoat hugged his figure really sharpened the line of his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the bell rang at that moment and interrupted his musings. His bedroom was a few feet along the hall from the stairs, so he hurried down and padded through to the front door. When he opened it, he was almost lost for words. He'd never seen Hank out of his heavy denim overalls before. He was still wearing denim in the form of jeans paired with a soft-looking shirt. It looked like some sort of flannel, which was enough to ward off the evening chill of late spring. The material was a deep shade of blue with black and grey stripes in a chequered pattern, which enhanced his soft eyes. He'd recently showered, leaving his grey hair soft and fluffed, and his thick beard neatly trimmed. Upon seeing him, he broke out into a wide grin, revealing a small gap between his front teeth that Richard hadn't noticed before.

"Where do you think we're going? The Savoy?" Richard stammered a little, still on the back foot after seeing him dressed up. Looking down at himself, he pulled the door wider and waved him inside, pressing himself against the wall as Hank stepped in. He really was a lot taller, especially when they were standing so close. Hank paused right next to him and looked down where he was leaning on the wall looking flustered. "It's only a small pub. I don't think a full suit is necessary." The amused grumble sent tingles across Richard's neck.

"R-right, sorry, I was just trying it on...It's been a while." He was honestly a little embarrassed to be caught playing dress up. Hank's lips softened slightly as he leaned his arm on the wall beside him and lounged above him, blue eyes running up and down his lithe body. Richard licked his lips, suddenly nervous as he looked up at Hank's almost predatory expression. He shook it off. It was probably his imagination. There was no reason Hank would look at him like that. His arms folded almost instinctively, and he swore Hank leaned a little closer.

"Looks good on you. I'm sure it serves you well in all those business meetings." Richard swallowed at the low rumble in Hank's throat. He'd virtually purred the words, and there was something almost smug in his expression as Richard looked up.

"It's one of my favourites..." Silence fell between them for a few moments, eyes quietly playing a game of cat and mouse. Hank would try to catch his eye, and Richard's chestnut gaze would dart away uncertainly.

"Lose the tie and waistcoat." Sound advice. Richard reached up to grab the knot, only to find two weathered hands there already. "Allow me." Hank pulled smoothly, loosening the tie and slipping it from his throat in one firm tug. The material made a dull crack as he whipped it, and Richard watched stunned as he wrapped the end around his hand and pulled, examining the rich material. He couldn't help the way his cock twitched at the thought of what he might do with it. "It's nice...Good and strong." Hank held the material tight a few moments longer before letting the end fall and neatly folding it.

"Thanks, I-I'll just put these upstairs and grab my jacket." Despite taking the tie, it was a full five seconds later that he actually pushed off the wall and hurried upstairs. His heart thudded in anticipation as he entered the bedroom and unbuttoned his waistcoat. Was that a pass? That was definitely a pass, right? He heaved a sigh as he shrugged out of the snug material. Flirting had never been his strong suit, and he was terrible at reading people. Perhaps the situation would become clearer later on. Leaving the tie and waistcoat on the end of the bed, he slung the jacket over his arm and hurried down to meet Hank.