Although married for many years — and happily so for the most part — I must confess that I’ve always had a thing for older guys. I never acted on it because I knew my wife would never understand and I was truly worried what might happen if I did.

That said, I did join a gay website — but did nothing more than chat.

By my mid-forties, my business was virtually running itself and, as my wife still elected to work full-time, I needed something to occupy my spare hours and days. Scanning the local free paper, I saw an advert seeking volunteers to help in the elderly community.

I telephoned and gave all the required details to Doris.“Oh,” she said, “we have a gentleman who lives not far from you who has recently had a knee replacement operation. He doesn't need personal care, just some help with chores.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said and the following day I was told that that my personal checks were fine and I later took delivery of a parcel containing the organisation’s uniform: navy tracksuit trousers and white polo shirt emblazoned with a red and yellow badge declaring, I'm here to help.

A text message followed providing the address and name for my first visit in the morning. I smiled at the name, Brian Sweet and true enough he lived just around the corner.

Next morning, after waving my wife off to work, I unwrapped my uniform. Oh, great, they'd sent small trousers and a large shirt. I sighed and pulled on the trousers. Damn, they were tight — my boxers rucked up and were visible way above the waistband. I cursed under my breath but decided to try them without underwear.

Much more comfortable. But, oh no, my manhood and balls were clearly outlined. I turned and glanced over my shoulder to look at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Wow! My bottom looks pretty good, I thought and chuckled.

I put on the shirtand looked again in the mirror. The shirt was so big it hung on me like a mini-dress. At least it covered my blushes!

It was obvious that I needed to get a better fitting uniform but a glance at my wristwatch told me I was in danger of being late for my first visit. I groaned but decided to make the best of things and hurried off to keep the appointment.

I jogged some of the way and was on time when I knocked on the scruffy front door.

“Come in,” a gravely voice called out. “It's open.”

I walked in and said a tentative, “Hello.”

“In here,” came the voice again and I entered a dark room. “Can you open the curtains so I can see you? Would do it myself but for this bloody knee.”

Reaching up, I drew back the first curtain, flooding the room with sunlight. As I raised my arm to pull back the second curtain, Brian called out, “Damn it, man, could those trousers be any tighter?”

Blushing, I tugged the shirt back down over my bottom. “I’m so sorry,” I spluttered. “There was a mix up with the uniforms. Sorry, I haven’t had chance to get it changed.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it… best ass I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Anyway,” I said, proffering my hand, “I'm Billy.”

He struggled to his feet, took my hand, and pulled me into a crushing hug. Brian was a big portly fellow with white hair and facial stubble and I stood back, unsure what had just happened.

“Sorry about that,” he said, lowering back into his chair, “I’m a bit of a hugger.”

“That's okay,” I mumbled. He made me feel uncomfortable but somehow strangely good at the same time.

“Right, I’m here to help,” I said, pointing at my badge. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, first, sort out my clock.” He pointed above him at the ticking instrument on a high shelf. “Bloody changed an hour and I can’t get up there. It’s driving me mad, don't know whether I'm coming or going with pill times. There's a small stepladder in the kitchen.”

I collected the ladder and placed it beside his chair. What a rickety old thing it was, wobbling as I climbed. As I adjusted the clock, I heard him chuckling.

Looking down, I was horrified to see that he was starting at my bulge. I quickly replaced the clock and shot down the steps. “There, all done,” I blustered, feeling my cheeks warming.

“Good lord above,” said Brian, “you've a package to die for.” He licked his lips while I blushed a deep red. “Please say you're gay,” he growled, lust in his eyes.

“Now Brian, please, stop that right now. I'm a happily married man and can't have this behaviour or I won't be able to visit and help any more.”

To my surprise, the big man burst into tears. I stood staring, not sure what to do. Then I patted his back. “Oh, don't cry,” I said.

“Sorry,” he spluttered. “I'm just so lonely and horny… I don't know what to do with myself.”

“Hey, hey” I said nervously, continuing to pat his back as he sobbed. “Listen, there’s plenty of guys out there that would love your company.”

His looked up, gazing at me with wet eyes. “Maybe, but how can I meet anyone when I'm stuck in the house with this damn knee?”

I thought for a minute or so. “Wait, do you have a computer?”

He sniffed. “Yes. But what difference does that make?”

“Well, I have a friend who lives miles away,” I lied, “ and he joined a site where like-minded men like you can chat and make friends… and maybe more.”

“My laptop’s there.” He pointed and then wiped his eyes.

He chose oldboy1 as a username and, leaving him chatting, I rushed home with my head spinning. I felt uncomfortable about his attention — but something stirred inside me.

Logging on to the site as shyman, I found him and we chatted, getting to know each other although I told him that I lived miles away. Once the small talk was over, I asked him if he had anyone in his life.

‘No,’ he typed.

‘There must be someone you’d like to get dirty with? How about a crush.’

Brian took a few moments to reply but, when he did, a smile spread across my face.

‘There is a guy, he's my new home help and as sexy as fuck. Wore these real tight trousers that showed him off beautifully. Oh what an ass. And the shape of his cock and balls, it was all I could do to hide my hard on.’

I was shocked by how excited I felt. As I debated how to reply, he wrote again: ‘Actually, he set me up here. A friend of his uses the site.’

My grin grew wider. ‘Did he now?’ I sent. ‘Seems to me, he may have used this site himself.’

‘No,’ came a quick response. ‘He’s straight and married.’

‘Hmmm,’ I wrote. ‘Let’s see, shall we? Next time he comes, ask him to take a selfie with you. I want to see this hottie.’

He agreed and we signed off.

To be continued