Amidst the shadows of a global pandemic, I found myself suddenly at the helm of a critical project, tasked with unraveling the intricate web of long-term financial impacts on my industry. An unexpected beginning, perhaps, to this tale and a weird situation for someone whose talents lie far from the realm of economics. But fate, it seems, had other plans.
As a creative soul, the numbers and charts that came with this project were foreign terrain. Yet, a twist of coincidence brought a friend of mine into the mix, recommended by a top consultancy. To my frustration, after evaluating several elite firms, my bosses chose not my friend, but a junior consultant—Fin—a fresh Oxford graduate with minimal experience, his résumé more focused on his Chicago birthplace and American citizenship than any substantial achievements. Despite my reservations, the decision was made, and our collaboration began.
The pandemic kept us physically apart, our meetings confined to the virtual confines of Teams. When Fin's face first appeared on my screen, I was struck by his strong jawline, high cheekbones, and the cascade of wavy blonde hair framing his striking blue eyes. His athletic build was evident even through the formality of his business shirt and tie—a sharp contrast to my team's more relaxed attire. I couldn’t help but comment on his polished look, suggesting he embrace the comfort of smart casual for our long, challenging days ahead.
"I haven't worn smart clothes in months," he replied in a charming British accent. "My girlfriend dared me to put on a suit."
"Fair enough," I responded with a smile. "But feel free to dress comfortably—we've got long hours and tough questions ahead.”
“You accent sounds English, your résumé said your American,” I inquired. “Oh really, I was born in Chicago because my dad had a job there, but I’ve not been back since I was eight” he replied.
Our early exchanges were polite, professional, filled with the expected pleasantries. Yet, as the project gained momentum, something more began to simmer beneath the surface. In the endless stream of virtual meetings and emails, a connection started to form, bridging the gap between our worlds.
We bonded over shared frustrations—the cursed time zone differences that stole our sleep, the tech glitches that threatened to derail our progress, and the constant struggle to build consensus within a team scattered across the globe. But beyond the professional rapport, I discovered in Fin a kindred spirit. Late-night conversations veered off course into personal territory, revealing our mutual love for off-road adventures and a shared appreciation for indie cinema.
I took the initiative to organise virtual social events, aiming to foster camaraderie among the team. Trivia nights and casual coffee breaks became the backdrop against which our friendship blossomed. We shared not just the milestones of our project, but also glimpses of our lives before the world turned upside down. Stories of family, favourite travel spots, and even the antics of pets added layers to our connection.
As the project drew to a close, I marvelled at how a professional collaboration had evolved into something deeper—a genuine friendship forged in the fires of remote work and global uncertainty. Though we never met face-to-face, our bond was real, rooted in mutual respect, shared experiences, and a quiet understanding that we had each other's backs.
Life moved on, as it tends to do. The project ended, the pandemic persisted, and Fin moved on to other endeavours. We fell out of contact, as happens when life takes us in different directions.
Two years later, the world had begun to heal, and I found myself sent to London for a few months of work. My company had arranged for me to stay in a sleek apartment complex, complete with a gym, pool, and sauna—a welcome escape from the daily grind. After a relaxing rest in the spa pool one day, I debated whether to cook or order in, the decision lingering as I made my way to the changing rooms.
The design of the changing room was peculiar, almost as if it was meant to discourage use. Four entrances led in from different directions, offering little privacy. I opted to strip down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the bench before heading for one of the open showers, pulling the flimsy curtain for what little cover it offered.
I heard someone enter from the pool area but paid no mind. The sound of footsteps approaching the showers caught my attention, though, and I turned slightly, my curiosity piqued.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here," came a familiar voice, tinged with amusement.
I turned fully, and there stood Fin, a smile playing on his lips, his blue eyes meeting mine with a spark of recognition. He was wearing dark blue speedos, with “Oxford” across the top right at hip level. Fin has rowed with his college during his Oxford University time and was an avid swimmer. He was also wearing jet black sandals. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in with the same pull I'd felt during those long virtual meetings.
In the flesh he was lean and statuesque, his blonde hair gleamed, fair skin seemed to glow, and eyes the shade of a summer sky, his presence both striking and intriguing.
Stood with his back to the shower, Fin began washing his hair, stroking it back out of his eyes. The water cascaded down his lean, toned body, highlighting every contour. He then turned slightly away from me to his right, giving me a view of his muscular back as he started to untie the strings of his Speedos.
He struggled a bit, his movements revealing glimpses of his peachy backside. In the process, he turned more, now facing the shower head. I couldn’t see his cock because of the way he was turned away from me, but the anticipation was tantalising.
“Wow, it's been ages! How've you been? Why are you here, did you move?” Fin asked, to which I replied “I've been good, man. Busy with work and life, you know how it is. Working in London for four months and they’ve out me up here. What about you? Did you move, thought you lived on the other side of London?”
Fin carefully removed his right sandal, letting him free his leg from the Speedos, slipping down one side, and then repeated the same process with his left. The effort he put into it made his muscles flex, a sight that was nothing short of mesmerising. He began rinsing the inside of his Speedos, standing at an angle that kept his front hidden from view. He wrung them out thoroughly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. “We moved, we’re sharing with two other couples from uni”, he replied.
Whilst wringing his speedos out Fin chatted “I’m thinking about taking a trip to the Austrian Alps. Need a break from the city. What about you?”, I replied “Work work work work, I get the odd evening to relax and catch up on some shows. Been meaning to watch a new Aussie horror film Talk to Me. Have you seen it?”.
His waist was quite tiny, creating a captivating curve from the top of his peachy buttocks to his bulging swimmer's shoulders.
As he stood there, it was clear Fin was stretching his cock and ball sack, but from his angle I couldn’t really see. He then turned back around, with his back fully facing me once more. He started to wash his buttocks, massaging the liquid soap thoroughly into his skin. Briefly, he leaned down, massaging the remaining soap onto his shins and lower legs, his hands moving up and down softly.
“Not yet, but I've heard good things. I've seen the trailer. Looks intense.” Fin replied.
With more liquid soap, he started to rub his torso, beginning with his left side, his hand stroking up and down. He then turned around, his back to the shower head, giving me a full view of his front. Fin continued to rub his left torso, his left arm fully in the air as he cleaned his pits. The sight was intoxicating.
“How is your family?” I asked, having spent hours discussing them online. “They’re good, thanks for asking. My sister just got engaged, so there’s been a lot of wedding planning going on. Weddings can be a lot of work, but they’re fun. It’s exciting but hectic.”
As he was saying this Fin washed himself methodically, moving from his pecs back to his cock and balls. His right ball hung noticeably lower than his left; they weren’t particularly big but had a meaty weight to them. Being American-born in Chicago, I had assumed Fin was circumcised, but as he tugged on his dick, washing away, it became clear he was not. With English parents, I suppose that it shouldn’t have been a surprise he had a Lilly white foreskin, and he seemed pretty comfortable showering it.
He pulled his foreskin about halfway back down his head, running his finger underneath what remained forward. Then he pushed it forward a little before pulling it all the way back this time, revealing a very shiny head. Fin let the water cascade down his cock. He then pushed his foreskin almost all the way forward, before pulling it partly back again. This time washing the outer skin itself. Not done yet, he pushed the skin forward again, washing his shaft before pulling the skin back yet again and running his finger in between the ridge of his head and the bunched skin below. He then grabbed his foreskin with his thumb and index finger, carefully pushing it back and stretching the bottom lip forward before rubbing and bouncing his balls again.
Fin then moved back to his pecs and again back to his cock and balls. He was definitely was keen on having a clean cock.
This time he pulled his foreskin back and forth three times, showering his head. Finally, he pulled his foreskin right back and then pushed forward again, inserting his finger under the skin, wiping around under the skin. It was quite a show but it wasn't just his physical allure that caught my eye - it was the way he carried himself, a subtle confidence acting like that which spoke volumes. His intelligence and wit matched his striking appearance, creating a magnetic pull that kept me engaged.
We continued to talk about our lives since the project during this show. I found myself drawn to his stories about his family, and his plans for the future. His presence was calming, his voice soothing, and our conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it had during those long virtual meetings.
His broad, muscular shoulders glistened under the water. He stood for a moment with his hands by his neck, before wiping the water from his hair.
The blonde fuzz on the back of his thighs crept up to the lower half of his buttocks. Apart from a neatly trimmed, equally blonde bush, his body was smooth and almost shiny. His skin was flawless, like porcelain, with one single freckle just above his left knee. His veins showed clearly along his arms and hands, and the same was true around his upper inner thigh into his groin. Above his pubes, two prominent veins traced near his pelvis. Fin had a distinct V leading up to his torso, with a toned stomach. His legs were long, his waist high, and his cute little innie belly button only added to his allure.
As an enthusiastic swimmer, Fin had a very developed upper torso, with big pecs and strong shoulders. His presence was magnetic, each movement captivating, leaving me entranced by every detail of his stunning physique.
Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a dark blue bath towel and folded it to cover his front. He rubbed his blonde hair vigorously, and then, seemingly giving up on modesty, pulled the towel up before wrapping it around his shoulders to dry his back. Fin then secured the towel around his waist.
As Fin finished his drying, he wrapped a towel around his waist, his skin glistening under the lights. “It’s really good to see you,” he said, his smile genuine.
"Absolutely. How about we grab a coffee sometime and catch up properly? There’s a great café just down the street," he suggested.
"I’d like that. Let’s do it," I agreed.
We exchanged numbers, making plans to meet up later in the week. As I watched Fin walk away, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, the promise of something more lingering between us. It was a reminder that even in the midst of uncertainty, connections could be made and rekindled, friendships reignited.
And so, our story continued—not with grand gestures or dramatic twists, but with simple, meaningful moments that brought us closer together. In the end, it wasn’t the project or the pandemic that defined our relationship, but the genuine friendship we built along the way, a bond that had only grown stronger with time.
As a creative soul, the numbers and charts that came with this project were foreign terrain. Yet, a twist of coincidence brought a friend of mine into the mix, recommended by a top consultancy. To my frustration, after evaluating several elite firms, my bosses chose not my friend, but a junior consultant—Fin—a fresh Oxford graduate with minimal experience, his résumé more focused on his Chicago birthplace and American citizenship than any substantial achievements. Despite my reservations, the decision was made, and our collaboration began.
The pandemic kept us physically apart, our meetings confined to the virtual confines of Teams. When Fin's face first appeared on my screen, I was struck by his strong jawline, high cheekbones, and the cascade of wavy blonde hair framing his striking blue eyes. His athletic build was evident even through the formality of his business shirt and tie—a sharp contrast to my team's more relaxed attire. I couldn’t help but comment on his polished look, suggesting he embrace the comfort of smart casual for our long, challenging days ahead.
"I haven't worn smart clothes in months," he replied in a charming British accent. "My girlfriend dared me to put on a suit."
"Fair enough," I responded with a smile. "But feel free to dress comfortably—we've got long hours and tough questions ahead.”
“You accent sounds English, your résumé said your American,” I inquired. “Oh really, I was born in Chicago because my dad had a job there, but I’ve not been back since I was eight” he replied.
Our early exchanges were polite, professional, filled with the expected pleasantries. Yet, as the project gained momentum, something more began to simmer beneath the surface. In the endless stream of virtual meetings and emails, a connection started to form, bridging the gap between our worlds.
We bonded over shared frustrations—the cursed time zone differences that stole our sleep, the tech glitches that threatened to derail our progress, and the constant struggle to build consensus within a team scattered across the globe. But beyond the professional rapport, I discovered in Fin a kindred spirit. Late-night conversations veered off course into personal territory, revealing our mutual love for off-road adventures and a shared appreciation for indie cinema.
I took the initiative to organise virtual social events, aiming to foster camaraderie among the team. Trivia nights and casual coffee breaks became the backdrop against which our friendship blossomed. We shared not just the milestones of our project, but also glimpses of our lives before the world turned upside down. Stories of family, favourite travel spots, and even the antics of pets added layers to our connection.
As the project drew to a close, I marvelled at how a professional collaboration had evolved into something deeper—a genuine friendship forged in the fires of remote work and global uncertainty. Though we never met face-to-face, our bond was real, rooted in mutual respect, shared experiences, and a quiet understanding that we had each other's backs.
Life moved on, as it tends to do. The project ended, the pandemic persisted, and Fin moved on to other endeavours. We fell out of contact, as happens when life takes us in different directions.
Two years later, the world had begun to heal, and I found myself sent to London for a few months of work. My company had arranged for me to stay in a sleek apartment complex, complete with a gym, pool, and sauna—a welcome escape from the daily grind. After a relaxing rest in the spa pool one day, I debated whether to cook or order in, the decision lingering as I made my way to the changing rooms.
The design of the changing room was peculiar, almost as if it was meant to discourage use. Four entrances led in from different directions, offering little privacy. I opted to strip down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the bench before heading for one of the open showers, pulling the flimsy curtain for what little cover it offered.
I heard someone enter from the pool area but paid no mind. The sound of footsteps approaching the showers caught my attention, though, and I turned slightly, my curiosity piqued.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here," came a familiar voice, tinged with amusement.
I turned fully, and there stood Fin, a smile playing on his lips, his blue eyes meeting mine with a spark of recognition. He was wearing dark blue speedos, with “Oxford” across the top right at hip level. Fin has rowed with his college during his Oxford University time and was an avid swimmer. He was also wearing jet black sandals. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in with the same pull I'd felt during those long virtual meetings.
In the flesh he was lean and statuesque, his blonde hair gleamed, fair skin seemed to glow, and eyes the shade of a summer sky, his presence both striking and intriguing.
Stood with his back to the shower, Fin began washing his hair, stroking it back out of his eyes. The water cascaded down his lean, toned body, highlighting every contour. He then turned slightly away from me to his right, giving me a view of his muscular back as he started to untie the strings of his Speedos.
He struggled a bit, his movements revealing glimpses of his peachy backside. In the process, he turned more, now facing the shower head. I couldn’t see his cock because of the way he was turned away from me, but the anticipation was tantalising.
“Wow, it's been ages! How've you been? Why are you here, did you move?” Fin asked, to which I replied “I've been good, man. Busy with work and life, you know how it is. Working in London for four months and they’ve out me up here. What about you? Did you move, thought you lived on the other side of London?”
Fin carefully removed his right sandal, letting him free his leg from the Speedos, slipping down one side, and then repeated the same process with his left. The effort he put into it made his muscles flex, a sight that was nothing short of mesmerising. He began rinsing the inside of his Speedos, standing at an angle that kept his front hidden from view. He wrung them out thoroughly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. “We moved, we’re sharing with two other couples from uni”, he replied.
Whilst wringing his speedos out Fin chatted “I’m thinking about taking a trip to the Austrian Alps. Need a break from the city. What about you?”, I replied “Work work work work, I get the odd evening to relax and catch up on some shows. Been meaning to watch a new Aussie horror film Talk to Me. Have you seen it?”.
His waist was quite tiny, creating a captivating curve from the top of his peachy buttocks to his bulging swimmer's shoulders.
As he stood there, it was clear Fin was stretching his cock and ball sack, but from his angle I couldn’t really see. He then turned back around, with his back fully facing me once more. He started to wash his buttocks, massaging the liquid soap thoroughly into his skin. Briefly, he leaned down, massaging the remaining soap onto his shins and lower legs, his hands moving up and down softly.
“Not yet, but I've heard good things. I've seen the trailer. Looks intense.” Fin replied.
With more liquid soap, he started to rub his torso, beginning with his left side, his hand stroking up and down. He then turned around, his back to the shower head, giving me a full view of his front. Fin continued to rub his left torso, his left arm fully in the air as he cleaned his pits. The sight was intoxicating.
“How is your family?” I asked, having spent hours discussing them online. “They’re good, thanks for asking. My sister just got engaged, so there’s been a lot of wedding planning going on. Weddings can be a lot of work, but they’re fun. It’s exciting but hectic.”
As he was saying this Fin washed himself methodically, moving from his pecs back to his cock and balls. His right ball hung noticeably lower than his left; they weren’t particularly big but had a meaty weight to them. Being American-born in Chicago, I had assumed Fin was circumcised, but as he tugged on his dick, washing away, it became clear he was not. With English parents, I suppose that it shouldn’t have been a surprise he had a Lilly white foreskin, and he seemed pretty comfortable showering it.
He pulled his foreskin about halfway back down his head, running his finger underneath what remained forward. Then he pushed it forward a little before pulling it all the way back this time, revealing a very shiny head. Fin let the water cascade down his cock. He then pushed his foreskin almost all the way forward, before pulling it partly back again. This time washing the outer skin itself. Not done yet, he pushed the skin forward again, washing his shaft before pulling the skin back yet again and running his finger in between the ridge of his head and the bunched skin below. He then grabbed his foreskin with his thumb and index finger, carefully pushing it back and stretching the bottom lip forward before rubbing and bouncing his balls again.
Fin then moved back to his pecs and again back to his cock and balls. He was definitely was keen on having a clean cock.
This time he pulled his foreskin back and forth three times, showering his head. Finally, he pulled his foreskin right back and then pushed forward again, inserting his finger under the skin, wiping around under the skin. It was quite a show but it wasn't just his physical allure that caught my eye - it was the way he carried himself, a subtle confidence acting like that which spoke volumes. His intelligence and wit matched his striking appearance, creating a magnetic pull that kept me engaged.
We continued to talk about our lives since the project during this show. I found myself drawn to his stories about his family, and his plans for the future. His presence was calming, his voice soothing, and our conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it had during those long virtual meetings.
His broad, muscular shoulders glistened under the water. He stood for a moment with his hands by his neck, before wiping the water from his hair.
The blonde fuzz on the back of his thighs crept up to the lower half of his buttocks. Apart from a neatly trimmed, equally blonde bush, his body was smooth and almost shiny. His skin was flawless, like porcelain, with one single freckle just above his left knee. His veins showed clearly along his arms and hands, and the same was true around his upper inner thigh into his groin. Above his pubes, two prominent veins traced near his pelvis. Fin had a distinct V leading up to his torso, with a toned stomach. His legs were long, his waist high, and his cute little innie belly button only added to his allure.
As an enthusiastic swimmer, Fin had a very developed upper torso, with big pecs and strong shoulders. His presence was magnetic, each movement captivating, leaving me entranced by every detail of his stunning physique.
Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a dark blue bath towel and folded it to cover his front. He rubbed his blonde hair vigorously, and then, seemingly giving up on modesty, pulled the towel up before wrapping it around his shoulders to dry his back. Fin then secured the towel around his waist.
As Fin finished his drying, he wrapped a towel around his waist, his skin glistening under the lights. “It’s really good to see you,” he said, his smile genuine.
"Absolutely. How about we grab a coffee sometime and catch up properly? There’s a great café just down the street," he suggested.
"I’d like that. Let’s do it," I agreed.
We exchanged numbers, making plans to meet up later in the week. As I watched Fin walk away, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, the promise of something more lingering between us. It was a reminder that even in the midst of uncertainty, connections could be made and rekindled, friendships reignited.
And so, our story continued—not with grand gestures or dramatic twists, but with simple, meaningful moments that brought us closer together. In the end, it wasn’t the project or the pandemic that defined our relationship, but the genuine friendship we built along the way, a bond that had only grown stronger with time.
