story of Dancing Derek

I was home on leave and staying with my Mother and Aunt in Prestwick. One Sunday we went for a day trip to Culzean Castle, down the coast. A lovely day and there was even a Scottish country display dancing team on the lawn to entertain us. They had started before we arrived so we had missed a bit. All the men/boys were wearing the same dark green tartan kilts and the women/girls had the same tartan sashes over their white dresses. One young man in particular caught my attention. He was very fair and and good looking. The dancing was more graceful than energetic and no opportunity to see under the mens kilts.

Then the dancers went off to have a rest and afternoon tea. I kept them in sight and when, at the end of tea, and before they danced again, they visited the toilet. My fair haired boy didnt go at first and I was disappointed that he may not feel the need, but finally he rose.

I rose too and followed him into the toilet. Only two peeing places, side by side, and so many men that there was a queue. I stood behind my target and casually remarked that I had enjoyed his dancing. He turned to me and said thank you very much. I smiled at him and we both knew instinctively that we were one of a kind. He took a better look at me then and remarked on my kilt, saying that it was a real dancers kilt. It was my Dress McGregor tartan, a lot of white with a touch of green and a faint red window as you can see from the pictures. He asked if I did any dancing and I told him that I used to but that I was not very good so I gave it up. Pity he said. I would Love to dance in a kilt like that!

The rest of the men had done their pee and left so we walked up to the stainlees steel urinal together. Without appearing to look too hard I could see that he was having some trouble getting his willie out but then I could see the warm pee arcing out against the steel. I was very curious to know what he was wearing underneath but the front of his kilt was in the way. I finished first and turned slightly towards him, putting my penis away carefully, adjusting it inside my trews, then starting to pull up my zip. He turned towards me, as if in slow motion, and I watched his face change when he recognised that the continuous tartan he was seeing was not just kilt but matching tartan pants as well! For my part I could now see that he was wearing a little navy trunk without any fly front so that he was reduced to pulling his penis out of the leg opening. Obviously quite tight elastic too. I got a quick view of his long uncut cock. Very sexy.

“Have you got a phone number?” I asked. He told me. It was an Ayr number with only five digits so I could remember it easily. He suggested that I call him after 8pm that night. I watched him dancing again and I could see that he was very good. We left and I looked forward to our phone call later that evening.

He answered very promptly but we were both a bit stiff to begin with. I complimented him again on his dancing and he told me again how much had had liked my kilt. What a surprise it had been for him to discover that I had matching tartan shorts to go under it. He had never seen such a thing before. I told him that they were called undertrews and were what a lot of boys and men had worn under their kilts before coloured underwear came in. I told him that I had got matching underwear for most of my new kilts.

This was about 1990 and I had only recently got the new kilts and trews from McNaughton in Pitlochry. It turned out that the dancers name was Derek and he was only 21, so that he had not even been born when trews were more common. He worked for the council and had a bedsit in Ayr. He told me that he was dancing again at Roselle Gardens in Ayr on the coming Wednesday. Would I like to come to see him? Of course I would. I discovered that it was to be Highland and he was to be a solo dancer for one dance. The rest of the group I saw at Culzean wouldnt be there.

An idea was forming in my mind. So you wouldnt have to wear the same kilt? I asked. Not really, but that was the only kilt he had. Would he like to borrow my kilt for the dance? I asked. Wow, of course he would. Then, with a slight hesitation, he asked if he could possibly borrow my undertrews as well. Of course. I checked his waist size. He was about 30 while I am 32 but I thought that wouldnt matter as long as he had a kilt belt. He had. Well it was arranged that I would meet him at his bedsit before the dance and he would change there. “Dont forget to bring your tartan trews!” he said as we rang off.

I got the bus into Ayr in plenty of time and found his place. He let me in at the first knock. He was already dressed in the kilt I had seen him in before but of course that was his only kilt. He explained that he had changed in advance in case I was late or not coming at all. I think that he was surprised to find me wearing my McGregor kilt. He probably expected me to be wearing another kilt and to bring this one in a bag. But of course I had secretly hoped to wear his kilt although I hadnt said anything.

In the end that was the only thing to do. I was very much looking forward to the change and even better that he was actually wearing the kilt already, so that it had to be taken off. We had some time in hand so I suggested that we undress each other. He agreed. I took off his sporran and he undid mine. Then the single kilt buckle on the left for each of us to extend the proceedings, then the lower right, then the top right so that the kilts unwrapped completely all in one as in a strip show. There he was standing in the same navy trunks that I had seen before while I was in my Dress McGregor trews. I put my hands on the waistband of his trunks. They were made of soft thin cotton. I drew them down. To my delight I discovered that he had the start of an erection so that the trunks were difficult to pull down as his hardening cock got caught in the waistband. The elastic round the legs gripped his thighs so they had to be pulled diwn as well. He had a fantastic jutty butty which was another reason to have difficulty getting the waistband down.

I finally got them down to his ankles and he stepped out of them. Picking them up I caught sight of the Cherub logo. So his navy dancing trunks were really schoolgirls gym knickers! I had wondered but discounted the possibility on account of his young age. Turned out that the wearing of girls gym knickers under a kilt extended over a bigger age range and longer time than I had realised.

I could now get a good look at his cock growing out of very fine fair pubic hair, and it was getting visibly stiffer by the minute! It was a very fine penis, quite thin but also quite long and with a very full foreskin. Even while erecting the prickhead was still fully covered and with some to spare. Then he was unclipping the waistband of my trews pulling down of the zip before drawing the tartan undergarment down. I made to touch his cock but he said that we should save that for later, after the dance. He wanted all his energy for that at the moment.

As he stepped into my trews I could see that it wasnt just a jutty butty but a bubble butt jutty butty. Fantastic shape. He pulled up my trews, tucked his now fully erect cock inside, and did up the zip. Fortunately his cock curved up and in so the outliine in the front of the trews was not that visible although it was quite clearly still there. The waist was a bit big for him but his full bum filled out the seat magnificently. Then he wrapped the kilt round. He did up the buckles to the last hole in the straps and it fitted too. He looked great. There was still a bulge in the front aprons but when he put on his sporran it hung flat and was more or less disguised.

It is always exciting to see someone else in one of my kilts and this was no exception. I was still undressed and sporting a semi stiff hardon out the front. I could see him loooking at it which made it all the more exciting. I looked closely at the little navy knickers he had taken off. I sniffed them appreciatively and smelt man scent. No, he hadnt washed them since he had danced at Culzean. I looked at the plain front and there was still the slight indentation where his cock and balls had lain just a minute or so before. It was with great enjoyment that I pulled them up and adjusted my semi hard cock inside. They still felt slightly warm.

Fully dressed, he in my kilt and me in his, we caught the bus to Roselle. We were quite early but some of the other dancers from Troon were already there and putting on their dancing pumps but they were mostly girls. There was one other guy and I managed to get a quick look between his legs but only saw the black briefs that most male dancers wore. They were all in for a surprise when they saw Derek dancing!

Derek changed into his pumps and started warming up along with the piper who had just arrived. I could see brief glimpses of the legs of the tartan trews and wondered what they would like when he got up on the stage and did some proper dancing.

The time eventually came for Derek to do his solo spot and there he was on the stage looking very confident. The kilt fitted him to perfection and with his big backside sticking out in the approved manner, he probably looked better in it than I did. The piper started and then he was dancing. It started slowly with careful pas de bas steps, then got quicker. His kilt pleats were swinging nicely but not enough to reveal anything. The dance got faster and faster. Then he turned quite quickly, and the kilt pleats swung up to reveal the matching tartan trews beneath.

I am sure that I heard the audience gasp and it wasnt just my imagination. The dance was really fast now and his kilt pleats were swinging up with almost every step. At one point it seemed that all one could see was tartan with legs sticking out. Absolutely great! I had a full hardon inside his knickers. It excited me hugely to know that I was wearing his kilt and his underwear, the very knickers he would have been wearing. And he was wearing my trews, and showing them off to a big and appreciative audience.

He finished and came off quite breathless. I congratulated him and he said that he had never danced better. He loved the swing of the kilt and also knowing that he was showing the matching tartan pants beneath. The piper, an older guy, about my age, came over, complimented him on his dancing, and asked where he got the tartan undertrews from. He didnt often see them worn nowadays.

Derek told the piper that they were mine. “Lovely trews,” the piper said, “but perhaps just a little bit too long for dancing in!” Actually he was probably right since the legs come quite far down the thigh. Good for normal day or evening wear but perhaps not so good for dancing in. But Derek didnt think so. He was delighted.

We went back to his place afterwards and had a drink. He was still full of adrenaline after his dance and we were both excited at the prospect of some sexual exploration. We started kissing and cuddling and then both pairs of groping hands moved downwards. I raised the edge of his kilt slightly to admire his knees and lower thighs. They were lovely with such young fair taut unblemished skin covered in fair coloured almost down rather than hair. Moving my hand up, I could feel the hardon under his sporran and he could no doubt feel mine.

I must say that I find the sporran a very sexy part of the kilt outfit, resting as it does on the manliest part of the male body. Just a leather pouch in fact but it means much more to me. I wanted to see his cock in erection again and asked him to stand up in front of me. I moved the sporran round to one side and tucked the kilt aprons up and into the waistband. There he was in those lovely trews of mine. I wondered if I ever looked so good in them – probably not.

I carefully unzipped the fly front. His cock had got held up inside so I put my hand in and withdrew it. It felt warm and very stiff. Out in the open it was a fine specimen of virility. Without any support, it was standing almost straight up and curving slightly into his belly as it had done before when we were getting dressed. Such is the advantage of youth!

His foreskin was still covering the prickhead, even in full erection. What an amount of sensitive skin to pleasure him, I thought. I tried to pull the foreskin back so that I could see the prickhead but he stopped me. He told me that he had a very tight foreskin that was painful to erect in unless it was pulled fully forward over the head. What a pity since I had been looking forward to playing with the head and the sensitive areas such as the neck. Also I dont usually like to suck men with that problem since it is difficult to wash under there and they usually dont taste very nice. Now I could only rub his foreskin up and down.

Then he wanted to examine me so he sat down and I stood up. Of course the navy knickers (his) I was wearing meant that my prick was not available to him so down they came. I stepped out of them. He admired my cut prick and to my surprise leant forward and put his lips round it. Wow, it felt lovely.

Derek had a very firm idea of what he wanted to do next. No, he didnt want me to suck him, for which I was grateful. He wanted to fuck my bum. And he wanted to fuck me while I was wearing his kilt and he was wearing my kilt and my trews.

No problem for either of us to do it in costume as it were. Fortunately I had cleaned myself out in anticipation of just such an event and had also brought a condom with me. Not that that was much good since he didnt seem to be keen on me fucking him and I didnt press the point although I would have loved to have got my erect penis up the deep valley between his lovely bum cheeks even if I didnt actually penetrate. At least the condom would keep my spunk off his dancing kilt, assuming that he brought me off too.

Well we both put on our condoms and I could see the care with which he put the latex over his foreskin to avoid pulling it down, even leaving quite a lot of loose rubber over the end. He looked incredibly sexy standing there, still in hose and black brogue shoes, with the aprons of the McGregor tartan kilt still tucked up into the waistband, the tartan trews beneath with his long thin cock sticking out and curving up from the front fly with the shiny condom tightly covering his cock then the teat and a bit of spare latex falling, baggily, over the end. Surprisingly sexy, especially knowing that it would all soon be up me. He wanted me to bend well over the back of the tiny sofa he had, fortunately quite a low back so easy to get in position. He lifted the kilt pleats out of the way, right up over my back and tucked the shirt tail up under the lining.

I turned and could see him putting lubricant on his erection then rubbing his shiny condom covered cock slowly in anticipation. I could imagine what he was seeing and enjoying – the sight of a willing naked backside, legs slightly spread, ready for penetration, and a bonus of the tartan kilt pleats arranged carefully over the back. One final thing. He placed his navy knickers carefully over the kilt pleats covering my back. What a lovely touch and I was careful not to move in case I dislodged them.

Then he was against me, shiny cock exploring the valley between my cheeks, first up and then down, before coming to rest at the backdoor. I was glad that I had shaved round my anus in anticipation, as it were, so he could no doubt see the puckered opening waiting for him. Some people find too much hair round there off putting. A slight pressure round the rim, then a little more lubricant poured on the area, then a little more pressure, then using his hands to spread my buttocks. I could feel him pushing but it still wouldnt go in. He told me to relax but I was doing my best.

Then I felt a finger inside, then a second finger, then three fingers, trying to widen me out. Then more lubricant and at last he was in but very carefully. Presumably he was trying very hard to avoid pulling his foreskin over the prickhead. Now I could feel his warm, hard, thin cock sliding slowly up me. Ooooh! Fantastic feeling. He reached round the front to grasp my own cock. I moved slighlty back to give his hand room between me and the sofa. It was only with great difficulty that I held back. Not boasting but I find that even the largest condoms are really too tight for me and I become very sensitive when they are on.

He stroked slowly in and out, punctuating this with short little jabs. Marvellous! Some men want to cum in a frenzy of in and out, others, like me, want to cum while almost still, savouring each ejaculation. He was one of the latter, and when I sensed he was ready for the cum I clenched and unclenched my bum cheeks.

That was too much for him and he shouted out, quite unecessarily, I’m Cumming, I’m Cumming!!! I could feel him too, his cock pumping semen. It went on for ages punctauted with lots of oohs and aahs and deep breaths. Quite exciting for me too.

He brought me off while he was still up me and before his erection went fully down, although I had to ask him to just hold my penis when the ejaculation started, not to rub it. So it was all right in the end and two happy kilties sat down to recover. We kept our condoms on to protect our kilts and with both our aprons still tucked up into the waistbands we could see each others cocks lying on our thighs, defllating slowly. His thighs were still covered by my tartan trews.

His cock and the long latex condom lying on the tartan was very very sexy allthough, having just cum myself, I had no power left to erect again but I am sure that another little bit of spunk trickled out of the end of my cock.

As his erection went down I was amazed to see the amount of semen gathered in the end of the rubber, not just filling the teat, but quite a lot of the condom as well. So perhaps he had left it loose, not just to protect the foreskin, as I had originally thought, but to hold all the spunk he knew that he would produce, and avoid it backing up along the shaft. Probably a bit of both. Eventually he made to get up and I asked him to stand in in front of me. Now that his erection was almost gone he had to hold the condom in place with his fingers. I asked him to sway to and fro. He got the point immediately and there he was, with his cock and the semen filled condom swinging from the open fly front of my tartan trews. Lovely, lovely sight and which I still clearly remember like it was yesterday.

Soon after I left to go abroad again and we wrote to each other for a bit but he wasnt a very good correspondent and we lost touch. When I went back next leave and phoned him up it turned out that he had got a semi permanent partner and he didnt really want to see me. Well, such is life.