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Greg almost choked on his pint.
"You want me to what?" he spluttered, trying not to spray beer everywhere.
"Oh, come on, Greg", John batted his lashes at the detective, "Don't try to tell me you've never thought about it."
Greg sat up and looked at John. "You're serious?" he said; half-question, half-disbelief.
John didn't answer. He just downed the rest of his drink and pulled at Greg's arm, "Let's go!" he instructed.
Who was Greg to refuse?
By the time they arrived at Greg's flat, they were both giggling like schoolgirls.
The combination of alcohol and anticipation was making Greg feel giddy and he put up no resistance whatsoever when John unexpectedly spun round and pushed him against the front door.
"Jesus, John!" Greg managed to mutter against the barrage of rough kisses that John was peppering him with. "Not here. Bed!"
John nodded and, without interrupting his onslaught, guided Greg to what he (correctly) guessed was the detective's bedroom.
The room filled with the sounds of men kissing, teeth clashing, hands battling and zippers sliding and soon both men were naked and panting.
Greg moaned loudly as John dropped down and took his hard cock in his mouth.
As John lifted his head a removed a stray hair from between his teeth, Greg laughed, "I'd better visit a barber."