François was my first regular! As children, we met every summer in August in Brittany. From the same age, our sexuality developed in parallel. We started showing our penises long before puberty, body hair and cumshots. One year, when we became teenagers, our sexes had thickened, hair surrounded them and sperm had spurted out during the winter, for him as for me.Our parents having changed their vacation dates, we only had a weekend together and a quiet afternoon. No more peeing in the toilets on the beach, but a guest from François has joined him in his hotel room. I go in, I take out my penis, he does the same, we put ourselves, lying on his bed. My penis is straight, his, stretched by his brake is twisted, leaning to the left.So do you have any juice?Yes me too, I jerk off in bed in a handkerchief.I take his cock in my hand, shake it a little and say to him: There's something we can do, turn around. It runs, is face down, I lie on him, rub my cock against his line and enjoy a quarter turn. I wipe it with my handkerchief. He turns around, grabs his cock and comes as fast as I do. We have to separate, François says to me: the next time, it is I who will put myself on you.Ok. We parted that day with this promise.Our parents never saw each other again, François lived in Bordeaux, I in Paris. No cell phones, no social networks..... This first ejaculation at 2 remained in my memory, often served as support for my motions. I got married, divorced, tasted a lot of pleasures, realized my bisexuality and I always missed François. I had learned a lot of things like fellatio that I would have liked to give him. I owed him a pleasure, an enjoyment.The Internet developed around my 50s. I was able to search for it via Google. Find your workplace, still in Bordeaux. A professional email address allowed me to write to him, to send him an invitation, of course discreet and without talking about sex even if it was my only idea....François answered me by telling me that he would be happy to see me again, to discuss our old holidays and our new lives. He didn't talk about sex either.A few weeks later, he told me he was coming to Paris for his job. He would stay in a hotel near the Etoile. I took that evening a room in this hotel. We had an appointment in a Place des Ternes brasserie. Francois was there before me, 40 years older, his hair still close-cropped, his athletic appearance whereas I have more of a good-natured profile... Manly handshake, smiles, simple meal, a few glasses of wine, I was divorced at the time, he had been in a relationship for 30 years with the same woman. The wine helping, I dare to remind him of our key pee p ...

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