Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Kolossale Begegnungen Teil 4 – LEATHER

Der 4. Teil von KOLOSSALE BEGEGNUNGEN schließt unmittelbar an den 3. Teil an. Ich habe noch einen 5. Teil vorgesehen, der aber noch nicht fertig ist. Bei genügend positivem Feedback, werde ich ihn abschließen.

———————————————————————-

Ich verließ die Bibliothek und fand mich in der großen Halle wieder. Es war niemand zu sehen. Die Party hatte also auch für die anderen begonnen.

Mein schöner Anzug war jetzt wohl ruiniert. Sollte doch die chemische Reinigung dafür sorgen, dass die Flecken wieder verschwanden, aber erst einmal musste ich die allzu offensichtlichen Spermaspuren entfernen und versuchte mich zu erinnern, wo das Badezimmer war. Im selben Moment kam Pedro die Treppe herauf. Er trug ein Lederoutfit, das ihm hervorragend stand.

“Hey, Ben, ich habe dich schon gesucht. Na, du siehst ja aus … als wärest du von einer ausgehungerten Sexbestie durchgenudelt worden.”

“Nicht von einer, von zwei Sexbestien! Und darüber hinaus von einer mir unbekannten Anzahl von Testosteron strotzenden Individuen in Anzügen. Ich brauch was zu trinken und am besten eine Dusche.”

“Ben, Ben, Ben … wo du auch hingehst, du bist immer mittendrin”, lachte Pedro mit einem klitzekleinen Hauch von Neid.

Den Anzug wirst du wohl so nicht mehr tragen können. Wie viele Kerle haben denn darauf abgerotzt?”

“Nur zwei”, erwiderte ich grinsend, “aber mit sehr dicken Eiern, wie du siehst. Ach ja, und ich selbst.”

“Lass mich mal riechen. Hmmm. Es geht nichts über den Geruch von Bullensperma”, sagte Pedro schwärmerisch.

“Jetzt fang bloß nicht an, an meinem Anzug rum zu lecken”, erwiderte ich entrüstet. “Sperma schmeckt nur frisch.”

Pedro prustete los: “Der war gut. Den muss ich mir merken”, und biss mir spielerisch ins Ohrläppchen.

“Au, lass das. Zeig mir lieber, wo ich den Anzug säubern kann. Ich hab auch noch ne fesche Badehose dabei. Dann gehe ich ein bisschen am Pool chillen.”

“Da komme ich gerade her, weil ich dich dort gesucht habe, aber da war nicht so viel los. Im Dungeon unten im Keller sind jedoch jede Menge geiler Lederkerle. Da geht es richtig ab, da findet gleich eine Performance statt.”

“Ihr habt ‘nen Dungeon ? Hier gibt’s auch nichts, was es nicht gibt. Aber eigentlich ist das nicht so ganz mein Ding. Außerdem habe ich keine Lederklamotten dabei”, erwiderte ich.

“Egal, komm mit, ich bin mir sicher, dass es dir gefallen wird. Du trinkst ein Bier und schaust einfach nur zu. Und vorher finden wir noch ein schickes Outfit für dich.”

“Zuerst ein Badezimmer bitte.”

Pedro nahm mich mit ins Obergeschoss. In seinem Badezimmer sprang ich kurz unter die Dusche und trocknete mich ab. Jetzt fühlte ich mich schon wieder besser. Dann kam Pedro wieder und wir gingen in ein anderes Zimmer. Dort öffnete er einen Schrank und legte mir einen Lederharnisch und einen dazu passenden Jockstrap auf einen Stuhl.

“Probier mal an. Was haste denn für ‘ne Schuhgröße?”, fragte er während er eine andere Schranktür öffnete.

“Größe 44”, sagte ich, da stellte Pedro auch schon ein paar monströse Lederstiefel vor mich.

“OK, dann dürften die hier passen. Die sind zwar 45, aber da passt du dann in jedem Fall rein. Na los, zieh an. Und nachher ist dann dein Anzug ganz von selbst getrocknet”, erwiderte er grinsend.

Ich legte mein Handtuch ab und zog den Lederjockstrap an.

“Du hast Muskeln zugelegt mein Lieber.”

“Hm, dann hat das ganze Gestrampel in der Muckibude also doch was genutzt, wenn dir das auffällt.”

“Klar fällt mir das auf. Bist doch ein fesches Kerlchen.” Dabei klatschte er mir auf den blanken Hintern. “Wie ich den hier liebe. Sieht aus wie gemalt.”

“Danke für die Blumen. Aber hilf mir mal lieber dieses Geschirr anzulegen. Ich weiß nicht so genau wie das geht. Trag ich nicht so häufig.”

Zusammen mit Pedro legte ich den Brustharnisch an.

“Findest du nicht, dass der ein bisschen zu locker sitzt?”

“Nun ja, ein bisschen, aber das kann man hier noch etwas enger stellen. Warte mal.

So, jetzt sieht’s gut aus. Du machst echt was her darin und der Lederjockstrap sitzt hervorragend”, und schon hatte ich auch noch Pedros rechte Hand im Schritt.

“Das fühlt sich ja schon wieder prall an”, meinte er grinsend und betrachtete meine Stiefel.

Ich fand sie ein wenig zu klobig, aber grundsätzlich sah ich jetzt so aus, wie man mich im leather only Bereich erwartete. Schließlich war dies ja heute eine Fetischparty.

Zusammen mit Pedro stieg ich die Stufen in den Keller hinab. Mal sehen, was Pedros Freund dort hatte einrichten lassen, denn ich erwartete definitiv nicht den Waschkeller.

Vor der offenen Tür standen schon ein paar gut gebaute Herren im Lederoutfit und musterten uns als wir kamen. Aber wir blieben nicht stehen, sondern escort kadiköy gingen durch die Tür in den dahinter liegenden Raum, der recht groß war und durch indirektes Licht in einem dunklen Blau erschien. House Musik mit harten Bässen war zu vernehmen.

Drinnen auf der linken Seite war eine kleine Bar und darüber hinaus gab es im hinteren Bereich auf der linken Seite zwei Slings und auf der rechten zwei Fickböcke sowie in der Mitte zwei Andreaskreuze. Gegenüber der Bar befanden sich an der rechten Wandseite mehrere Sitz- und Liegemöglichkeiten aus Leder. Hier war an nichts gespart worden.

Auf den Sitzgelegenheiten war durchaus schon einiges los … Kerle saßen oder lagen knutschend herum, andere begutachteten einander, zeigten ihre Muskeln, strichen sich gegenseitig über die Brust. Ein Paar war schon bei Blowjobs angelangt, was wiederum von anderen beobachtet wurde. Irgendwie war aber noch nicht so richtig der Funke übergesprungen, wie eben nach dem Aufmarsch der Gockel in der Bibliothek. Es war als würden die meisten noch warten.

“Haben die auf uns gewartet?”, fragte ich Pedro schelmisch.

“Na, da fehlen noch so ein paar gewisse Herren, die hier in der Regel den Laden in Schwung bringen. Sven zum Beispiel und Bob oder Igor. Die kommen in der Regel immer hier runter und suchen sich was zum Ficken und dann geht die Party ab.”

So stellten wir uns erst mal an die Bar und orderten etwas zu trinken. Auf einem der Sitzpolster gegenüber erkannte ich Marc, den kleinen Bodybuilder wieder, den ich auf Pedros letzter Party so geil gefickt hatte. Ich prostete ihm zu und er kam zu uns rüber und schlug uns auf die Schulter.

“Hi, schön dich wieder zu sehen”, sagte ich. “Du siehst ja wieder so was von geil aus. Dreh dich mal rum.”

Marc zeigte uns sein Hinterteil. Er trug Chaps und einen Lederjockstrap und so konnten wir ungehindert einen Blick auf seine muskulösen prallen Arschbacken mit dem blonden Flaum werfen, die bei mir sofort für Rührung im eigenen Jockstrap sorgten. Ich strich über Marcs Arschbacken und klatschte einmal ordentlich drauf.

“Komm bück dich mal”, raunte ich ihm zu.

Er bückte sich und stützte sich mit den Handflächen am Boden ab. Der war echt gelenkig. Das konnte sonst nur Pedro. Marc streckte mir seinen perfekten Arsch in voller Pracht entgegen und ich kniete mich hin, und vergrub mein Gesicht zwischen seinen muskulösen Arschbacken. Ich leckte seine Ritze und die Rosette und strich dabei über den blonden Flaum auf seinem Hinterteil. Behaarte Ärsche machen mich einfach sofort geil.

Ich war noch darin vertieft diesen Augenblick zu genießen, als eine Gruppe von Kerlen durch die Tür kam. Marc richtete sich wieder auf, da die anderen an ihm vorbei wollten und auch ich stand auf und blickte auf die Herren, die gerade reingekommen waren. Ich erkannte Bob und Sven und mit dabei waren noch zwei andere, die ich aber nicht kannte.

Alle vier gingen zielstrebig zu den beiden Andreaskreuzen. Was wurde das denn jetzt für eine Performance? Während Bob und Sven lediglich zwei enge und natürlich prall gefüllte Lederstrings trugen, waren die beiden anderen mit Chaps und Harnisch und Sturmmasken versehen. Die beiden groß gewachsenen und gut gebauten Begleiter ketteten jetzt jeweils die anderen an die an der Wand nebeneinander angebrachten Andreaskreuze und zwar mit zwei breiten Lederriemen an Handgelenken und Füßen. Im Nu standen Bob und Sven weitestgehend bewegungsunfähig mit breit auseinandergereckten Armen und Beinen da.

“Was wird das denn jetzt”, fragte Marc. “Die beiden Supermachos sind doch wohl nicht etwa unter die Masos gegangen.”

“Stimmt, das glaube ich auch nicht”, entgegnete ich gebannt.

“Ich glaube die wollen mal wieder unsere Aufmerksamkeit”, entgegnete Pedro. “Mal schauen was jetzt kommt.”

Mit ein paar gekonnten Griffen zogen die beiden maskierten Kerle den beiden Angeketteten die Lederstrings herunter. Die beiden Schwänze sackten in schlaffem Zustand nach unten und die beiden Typen rückten sie und die großen Hoden so zurecht, dass sie für alle gut zu sehen waren. Oberhalb, vor den Kreuzen, gingen nun zwei Scheinwerfer an und beleuchteten die beiden Angeketteten in einem nicht allzu grellen Licht.

Alle Augen im Raum waren jetzt auf die Andreaskreuze gerichtet und es wurde heftig getuschelt, wahrscheinlich über die üppigen Geschlechtsteile der beiden Herren und deren beneidenswerten Statur: Bob der pechschwarze und sehr muskulöse 2 Meter Mann und Sven, mit seiner V-förmigen Schwimmerstatur und keinem Gramm Fett zu viel. So hatte ich sie im letzten Herbst schon kennengelernt.

Was jetzt folgte war ganz klar Teil einer Show. Die beiden maskierten Typen holten zwei Flaschen mit Babyöl herbei und begannen Bob und Sven damit zu bespritzen. Dann massierten sie das Öl jeweils bei den Schultern anfangend, über Brust und Bauch, escort bayan hinunter zu den Beinen gründlich auf die ganze Haut. Im Nu glänzten die beiden Herrschaften und im Scheinwerferlicht sahen sie aus wie zwei verschwitzte römische Gladiatoren, denen man den Lendenschurz abgenommen hatte.

Den Genitalbereich sparten die beiden Männer für zuletzt auf. Bobs dicker fetter Schwanz hatte sich schon merklich vergrößert, hing aber noch schwer in der Senkrechten. Auch Svens langer Schwengel war schon angeschwollen, zeigte aber auch noch zu Boden.

Mehr Öl wurde nun großzügig auf das prächtige Gehänge der beiden gespritzt und dann traten die beiden Herren ein wenig zur Seite, damit alle gut sehen konnten und begannen mit der Königspartie.

Die Anwesenden, inzwischen bestimmt 25 Männer, uns eingeschlossen, hatten sich in einem Halbkreis um die beiden Kreuze postiert und wurden nun Zeuge, wie die beiden strengen Masseure ordentlich ins Volle griffen. Sie kneteten die Eier kräftig durch und pumpten die eingeölten großen Schwänze zielstrebig auf. Bobs Schwanz schwoll sofort mächtig an und im Nu stand der fette Prügel in der Waagerechten und sein Hodensack zog sich zu einem großen schwarzen Tennisball zusammen.

Bei Sven dauerte es ein bisschen länger. Der Masseur massierte und melkte ihn ordentlich und kurze Zeit später stand sein riesiger Schwanz steil nach oben aufgerichtet. Durch die gekonnten Melkbewegungen der Masseure waren die beiden Showmen schon sichtlich aufgegeilt.

Die Masseure traten nun zur Seite und griffen wieder nach den beiden Ölflaschen. Dann sagte der eine von ihnen an die Gruppe gewandt: “Die Hengste sind nun für die Deckung vorbereitet. Ihr könnt sie aber noch mehr stimulieren, indem ihr ihnen weiter die Geschlechtsteile massiert. ABER, oberste Bedingung ist, dass sie auf keinen Fall abspritzen dürfen. Je geiler sie sind, desto wilder werden sie nachher die Stuten decken. Deshalb sollten die Stuten ebenfalls gut vorbereitet sein, bevor sie sich decken lassen.

Sofort traten zwei Männer nach vorn, ließen sich etwas Öl in die Hände geben und legten Hand an. Sie widmeten sich ganz den mächtigen Schwänzen und waren mit beiden Händen damit beschäftigt, Eichel, Stamm und Eier der beiden Angeketteten zu bearbeiten.

“Boa, ist das ein großes fettes Teil. So viel Schwanzfleisch hatte ich noch nie in der Hand. Guck dir mal diese riesige Eichel an!”, ließ einer der Männer, der Bobs Vorhaut soweit wie möglich zurückgezogen hatte, anerkennend verlauten. “Der pralle Wahnsinn!”

“Der Schwanz hier ist sowas von lang und hart, damit kannst du ein Loch in die Wand dübeln”, bemerkte sein Nebenmann zu Svens massivem Pfahl. “Und Eier hat der, guck dir das mal an, wie reife Pflaumen.”

Die Begeisterung war überall groß. Alle wollten ran an die Männer. Die beiden Masseure achteten darauf, dass sich nicht alle gleichzeitig auf die Schwänze stürzten und ließen die Männer auch die anderen attraktiven Körperteile massieren: Brust, Bauch, Arme, Beine, Po.

Die beiden Hengste waren schnell vollends aufgegeilt von den ganzen Händen auf ihrem Körper und an ihrem Schwanz. Sie zerrten an den Fesseln und stöhnten. Es fehlte nur noch das Wiehern.

“Ich fick euch allen die Seele aus dem Leib”, keuchte Sven schwer, “Macht mich hier los, ich will ficken.”

Bob war da mehr der Genießer und schwieg. Seine Muskelpakete hatten es vielen der Männer angetan und sie wurden reichlich begrapscht und eingeölt. Als der Typ, der sich gerade seinem Schwanz widmete, ihn immer schneller wichste, rief er unter lautem Stöhnen: “Ich komm gleich.”

Sofort schritt einer der beiden maskierten Männer ein und sorgte dafür, dass das Wichsen aufhörte. Erst nachdem Bob sagte: “Weitermachen, ich bin so geil”, trat wieder einer der Herren vor ihn hin und gab dem fetten Schwanz einen ordentlichen Handjob, hörte aber wieder damit auf, als Bob abermals laut zu stöhnen begann.

Sven fickte unterdessen das gierige Maul eines Bläsers, der sich vor ihm hingekniet hatte. Aber es dauerte keine 15 Sekunden, dann trat auch hier einer der Maskierten hinzu und zog den Kopf des Bläsers zurück. “Die Hengste dürfen jetzt nicht ficken, und schon gar nicht abspritzen. Wir brauchen ihr Sperma für die Deckung.”

“Wir suchen jetzt zwei Stuten, die sich gleich von den beiden Hengsten besamen lassen.”

Sofort meldeten sich mehrere Kerle. Ich hatte bis jetzt lediglich Bobs mächtige Brust massiert und mit seinen großen Nippeln gespielt und war nach meinem Gangbang in der Bibliothek noch nicht so geil, wie ich es unter anderen Umständen gewesen wäre, zumal ich auch wusste, was für harte Ficker die beiden waren.

Pedro hingegen fackelte nicht lange: “Ich bin dabei”, rief er und ging zu einem der Fickböcke rüber. Ein anderer Typ, auch mit einem wunderschönen Knackarsch, folgte ihm zum anderen Bock. Ein paar Männer gingen nun ebenfalls rüber zu den escort ataşehir beiden Fickböcken und bereiteten die beiden Stuten vor: Zuerst zogen sie den beiden Stuten ihre Jockstraps aus und legten sie bäuchlings auf den Bock. Dort fixierten sie dann deren Arme und Beine in den dafür vorgesehenen Schlingen. Beide Böcke waren bereits so eingestellt, dass die Höhe perfekt für die Deckhengste passen würde.

Das Edging der Hengste dauerte immer noch an. Ich hatte mich inzwischen zu Sven gesellt, der in die höchsten Sphären der Geilheit aufgestiegen zu sein schien. Zwei Typen wichsten den knüppelharten, aufs äußerste angeschwollenen Schwanz immer nur so lange, bis Sven wieder keuchte: “Gebt mir was zu ficken” oder “Ich komme.” Der Mann, der ihn wichste, hört wieder auf und begann stattdessen seine Eier zu kneten.

“Meine Güte hat der zwei Apparate”, sagte er zu mir und hielt die beiden Hoden bewundernd in der Handfläche. “Ich bin gespannt, wenn der gleich abspritzt.”

“Das kannst du sein”, erwiderte ich. “Ich hatte schon mal das Vergnügen. Da schluckst du gut und gerne dreimal.”

“Ben, mach mich hier los, mir platzen gleich die Eier. Ich will ficken.”

Ich umfasste seinen langen Schwanz. Er war wirklich knüppelhart und die Adern waren bis aufs Äußerste geschwollen. Langsam und genüsslich wichste ich seinen gut eingeölten Hengstschwanz über seine ganze Länge, vom mächtigen Stamm über den geäderten Schaft bis zur schönen Eichel, immer wieder vor und zurück.

“Ben, mach mich jetzt hier los. Ich ficke dich bewusstlos, wenn du mich hier los machst.”

“Ich will nicht, dass du mich bewusstlos fickst. Da vorne sind doch schon zwei rossige Stuten in Wartestellung.”

Als ich mich umdrehte sah ich, wie zwei Kerle die Löcher der beiden Stuten mit einem Dildo weiteten.

Bob war in einer ähnlichen Lage wie Sven. Auch bei ihm war der Orgasmus weit überfällig und nachdem die anderen Kerle an den Fickböcken ihr OK gegeben hatten, banden die beiden maskierten Männer, die mir übrigens ausgezeichnet gefielen — vielleicht konnte ich ja einen von den beiden zu einen Fick im Sling überreden — sowohl Sven als auch Bob los.

“Die Hengste dürfen nun die Stuten decken”, verkündete einer der beiden in feierlichem Ton, was diese sich nicht zweimal sagen ließen. Sie gingen zu Pedro und seinem Kumpanen hinüber und versenkten sofort ihre harten Schläuche bis zum Anschlag in beide Ärsche. Da war keine Zeit zum behutsamen Aufficken, da ging es, wie im Pferdestall, direkt zur Sache.

Aufgegeilt wie die beiden waren, fragte ich mich, wer wohl zuerst kommen würde, denn lange würde ich ihnen nicht geben. Aber da hatte ich mich wieder mal verrechnet.

Beide trieben ihre großen Schwänze mit voller Wucht immer wieder in die beiden Ärsche. Gut, dass Pedro einiges gewöhnt war. Der andere hingegen schrie laut auf. Von hinten sah ich, wie Bobs Eier gegen den Arsch der Stute klatschten und sein muskulöses Hinterteil sich in raschen Stößen vor und zurück bewegte und das mit unverminderter Intensität.

Sven tobte sich bei Pedro aus wie ein Presslufthammer, und hielt viel länger durch als ich gedacht hatte. Dennoch war er es, der schließlich als erster kam. Er zog den Schwanz aus Pedros Arsch und schoss die Spermasalven in hohem Bogen in die Runde. Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs mächtige Spritzer, dann verebbte der Strahl langsam. Anerkennendes Raunen ging durch die Reihen und ein Typ eilte herbei und saugte Sven begierig die letzten Tropfen aus der Eichel.

Bob ergriff jetzt den Harnisch seiner Stute, zog fest daran und kam in kraftvollen Stößen in ihrem Arsch. Er bäumte sich auf und man sah am Zucken seiner Lenden, wie er seine Stute anständig besamte. Er stöhnte tief und laut und konnte sich gar nicht wieder beruhigen. Als er schließlich seinen Schwanz rauszog, lief das Hengstsperma aus dem geweiteten Loch und sofort kam jemand herbei um es aufzulecken und ein anderer lutschte Bobs Schwanz ab.

Ein Grölen der Anerkennung ging durch die Reihen. Die beiden Hengste hatten ihre Arbeit getan und die Stuten ordentlich gedeckt und sicherlich blieben sie nicht die einzigen Stuten heute Abend.

Und so plötzlich wie sie gekommen waren, verschwanden die vier Herren nun auch wieder. Sven immer noch mit Ständer, Bobs Schwengel pendelte schwer zwischen seinen Beinen. Die Zuschauer applaudierten ihnen, wie zwei erfolgreichen Gladiatoren. Die vier gingen wohl jetzt rüber zum Pool. Dann würde ich sie ja vielleicht gleich nochmal sehen.

“Das war ja mal eine Performance, meinte ich zu Marc”, dem das Ganze auch sehr gefallen hatte.

Jetzt kam auch Pedro angewatschelt.

“Na, Schwierigkeiten beim Laufen?”, lästerte Marc.

Pedro nahm mein Bierglas und trank es in einem Zug leer. “Dieser Porno-Sven … also ich weiß nicht, wo der diese Power her nimmt. Das hält man ja kaum aus.”

“Sagt derjenige, der sich auf der letzten Party DREI Schwänze gleichzeitig in den Arsch schieben ließ”, entgegnete ich mit einem breiten Grinsen.

“Ja, da ging aber nicht alles sofort von 0 auf 180.”

Wir tranken noch ein Bier und entschieden dann, zusammen mit Marc in den ‘Spa-Bereich’ zu gehen, auf der Suche nach neuen aufregenden Abenteuern.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I don’t know where to start. I always struggle with starting new projects, for school or more private, but I really, really need to get this story out of my system. I can’t tell my friends and especially can’t tell my dad. For obvious reasons.

Well, okay. I saw people here usually introducing themselves at the start? My name’s Malcolm. I’m average I guess? I think I’m what people would call a twink, with lean body, dark hair and blue eyes that all the girls compliments. I’m pretty athletic too, mostly because my dad made sure to teach me taking care of my body. When the story I want to tell happened I was barely nineteen, but now I’m turning twenty in few months. I was so… shy about what happened I couldn’t even think about it for more than two minutes, let alone write it down. Already I can’t stop blushing. But I just need to tell someone or I swear I’ll go crazy.

Oh did I forgot to tell I’m also closeted gay? I think I did. Well, at least I think I am. For a big chunk of my teenage years I thought I may be bi, but with time I noticed I’m less and less interested with girls and-

And I’m going off the track. I’m sorry. Let’s move to some background.

My dad is a really wealthy man. He divorced my mom when I was little and took care of me. I still live with him, his apartment is close to the university I’m attending anyway. It’s an expensive place, with only few neighbors living around us. I guess I could be called a rich boy, I caught a little bit of snobbish side especially when it comes to food and vacations, but I do understand how does the world works. I know I’ll have to get job at some point, find my own place to live, pay bills and buy food for myself. It just always seemed so far away.

The neighbors are mostly business people like my dad. There are also some teens around my age I never got to know well. Those are the exact stereotypes of rich kids and I found myself judging them a lot.

There’s also a man that’s the main character of this story. Besides me of course. He lives next doors with us and sometimes throws big parties, but always gives everyone a warning about them. So, compared to loud, rich kids that blast music on the most annoying hours, he’s considered a nice gentleman. His name’s Tomas Miller and I think he’s around my dad’s age. He doesn’t really look like the scruffy, bear type of guy that I can see described in here most of the time? His hair is always neatly brushed, with three day beard over his chin and that look in his eyes, as if he’s better than everyone else.

He always intrigued me because he was very mysterious. Once, when I was little, I asked my dad who is mister Miller and he struggled with answering before finally settling down on “probably an artist”. His guests, who I saw few times in the lobby or in the lift, usually wore colorful, weird outfits. Later, when I started learning more about sex stuff, I realized that those parties were probably… well… orgies. For almost a year somewhere in highschool I got so fixated on Miller’s persona I almost started stalking him, but then the school stuff came and I had to focus on it.

In reality the only words we exchanged were mostly greetings. And not even every time there was an exchange. He just waved his hand at me dismissively when I greeted him. I didn’t really mind, it wasn’t like I was crushing on him or anything. I still don’t really know him and he’s probably twice as old as me. If anything he was nothing more than a celebrity crush, the kind that you can look at but can never touch. But that changed.

A week after my nineteen birthday party I was cleaning our part of basement. I told dad I’ll do it, because I was eager to find all the old stuff he may left there and forgot about. It was always fun for me, to find things from my dad’s past. It would also mean I’d just spent the whole weekend alone in the basement, listening to music and laughing at old pictures, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to have a break from everything else.

I was somewhere in the middle of a third box, with a speaker playing some music and an old wig I found before on my head, when I heard the lift arriving down here. I thought it’s my dad, wanting to call me to have the dinner, so I stood up from the ground and walked outside of the room.

“Hey dad, did you wear this wig only occasionally or-” I cut off when I saw it wasn’t my dad. I snatched the wig off immediately. “Oh, uh, mister Miller. Hello,” I said.

Miller was standing there, right by the lift, with a little crooked head and lifted eyebrow. I could see him lustering my flushed face, with hands crossed over his chest. I started to feel awkward, so I decided to retreat and close the door behind myself.

“Sorry,” I laughed, slowly moving back. “I took you for my dad.”

I was almost behind the wall when I heard something I never heard before. Miller spoke up, he actually made a whole, legit sentence and send it toward me, the first time in my life. That was enough to lure me escort acıbadem out of the room. And then I froze, catching the meaning of his words.

“You’re that fag that lives next door, right?” he said.

I felt my stomach drop and my throat clench. No one, not even my friends knew I have even a tiny bit of interest toward other guys. I knew how to hide the lingering looks I send to guys I found cute or sexy. I practiced hiding my sexuality for years. How did this man, a man who never talked with me, knew?

He had to read my shocked, scared face well because he nodded with a smirk and continued.

“You’re still in closet, huh?” I was still too shocked to even nod or shake my head. He seemed to not mind. “Doesn’t really matter, I know how to recognize a gay guy. You think you’re sneaky with your little glances yet it’s all too obvious.”

My stomach jumped all the way back and up to my throat when I heard that. What if someone else saw, too? Someone from my school? Some of my friends? I immediately lost all my confidence for my skills.

“I’m… not gay,” I managed to huff out, with eyes down and cheeks red. I really didn’t know what to do in this situation. I didn’t notice Miller coming closer.

“Oh don’t lie. It’s not like I care enough to tell anyone.” I jumped up and straightened, hearing his voice way closer than before. He was standing right before me, maybe a step away, and looking over me with a frown. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Nineteen since last week-” I said, for some reason, and immediately snapped my mouth shut. I swear I saw his eyes glimmer in a way that made hair on my nape stand. Like he saw cool jacket and only now realized he can afford it. The glimmer vanished quickly and he smiled widely.

“Nineteen! So that’s what the party was about, huh?”

I nodded but I wasn’t really thinking about the discussion anymore. I never had a reason to be scared of mister Miller, or any other man in this case. But just now I realized how big this man was. He was a good head above me, obviously stronger by just looking at his body. And he stood between me and the lift, which was the only way to get out of the basement, beside the staircase that was probably closed behind the door anyway. I don’t know why, but my mind immediately jumped to all the similar stories I read before. With twinks, like me, being forced into oblivion by hunks like Miller. They were sexy to read, but not fun to be in.

I was still a virgin back then, too. I wasn’t scared or shy to talk about sex, but at the same time I didn’t really feel like finding a girl just to cum. And, of course, getting a boyfriend was still a no for me. So I stayed in my little, porn driven box of masturbation and a little bit of playing with my butt, wondering about more and more kinky scenarios.

“Okay, uh, what was your name?”

“Malcolm,” slipped from me mostly on reflex.

“Malcolm. Nice. Are you okay? You seem pretty uneasy.”

He sounded nice. Concerned even. And I realized I’m getting worked up without any reason. So I looked at him, trying to smile lightly.

“I’m okay,” I said, managing a smile and then looked away. “Just… no one really knows and, yeah.”

Miller nodded. “I shouldn’t come at you like that. But really, no one will learn from me. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

There was a moment of silence before mister Miller spoke again.

“I was heading to my basement, to get something out of it. If you need to sit down for a moment I have a mattress in there.”

My stomach clenched a little but I pushed all those nasty thoughts down. He was just trying to be nice to me. It was only a coincidence he did so only after learning I’m gay and adult. I shook my head though.

“Thank you, but I should go back to my work.” I jerked my head toward the mess inside mine and my dad’s part of the basement.

“Come on, a little break won’t change anything. And you’ll work better after it.”

Well, he was right. Even if going through old stuff was fun I needed some break. And there was no old mattress in our basement for sure. So I shrugged and nodded.

“Okay. I’ll just turn off the music.”

“Sure.”

Miller waited for me to come out of the room. I decided to not close the door, I would be back in few minutes anyway. He lead me to next door, opened it and let me in first.

I stepped inside and when the light flickered on I froze. First of all, he didn’t have one mattress in here but plenty. Second, I could clearly see chests standing by the walls. Only one of them was open and I could clearly notice toys inside. Not kid toys for sure. There was also that X shaped thing they use in porns sometimes, stuffed between a bunch of mattresses. I gulped, blushing like mad, and jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Is it too much?” chuckled Miller. I turned around to face him but couldn’t bring myself to lift my red face and look him in istanbul eskort the eyes.

“I’m, uh, surprised. That’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?”

There was a weird undertone in Miller’s voice, that made me look up. He was still standing in the door, blocking them for me, making my thoughts rush again. I was in a damn sex dungeon with this man glaring down on me, with a shit eating grin, blocking the only escape route I could have in this situation. I shuddered, looking at his eyes, seeing that glimpse from before in them.

“I’ll just make it clear,” he said and I felt cold shiver wandering on my back. Out of sudden I felt defenceless. “You’re a pretty, little boy, totally in my type. I wanna fuck you on that wall,” he pointed over to one of the walls and my head snapped towards it, “on that mattress,” another point out, I looked as well, “and maybe on the floor too.”

He stopped and I waited for him to continue. For him to ask what I think or if I want to, but he didn’t. He only kept staring at my surprised, flushed expression, still blocking the door.

I opened and closed my lips few times, feeling my heart thumping hard in my chest. I really couldn’t believe it was happening. Screw the fact that it was ripped straight from the stories I read and videos I watched. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of this happening to me. The shy, virgin twink that was still too deep in the closet to openly look at other guys.

I swear my mind stopped working. Because the next thing I said was: “I’m a virgin.”

Miller chuckled and stepped closer, probably taking that as consent. I heard him closing the door behind himself and felt the smell of his parfum. It all, along with the sheer idea of what’s going to happen, made me dizzy.

“That’s just perfect,” he hummed. “I’ll show you everything. Anyway, it’s better to have your first time with someone experienced.”

I didn’t move back when his body bumped into mine. I was too frozen, too bewildered with what was happening to even think about moving back. Miller is so tall, I remember I fit with his body perfectly, with his chin over my forehead, able to smell the perfume and the shower gel off of the skin on his neck. His hips were against my underbelly and my breath hitched.

I could feel his penis through his dress pants. I could feel its outline pressing into my body.

That pushed me to move a little. I had to get out of this situation. It was just too much. I always thought my first will be someone I fallen in love with, in my bed, after a romantic date, not the older neighbor fucking me in the basement. If the circumstances were different, if it wasn’t supposed to be my first time, I would be all over him. He was handsome, smelled nice, probably knew what is he doing. I knew he would give me a great time. There was still that little voice in the back of my head that was telling me I’ll be a bad person if I’ll allow this to happen right now.

Before I could make a whole step back I felt hand on the small of my back, rolling my shirt a little up and pressing into my skin. I jerked lightly, involuntarily brushing against his dick. I could feel it hardening so well through the thin material of his pants, with my shirt rolled above my navel. His hand was warm, so big, but surprisingly soft. It actually felt nice.

His other hand fell on my chin and tilted my head up. I looked him into his eyes, hungry, happy, brown eyes of a man who was already fucking me in his head. I looked away in a desperate attempt to cut off the connection, to stop the image of me leaning onto the wall with his hips snapping against my ass.

“Wait-” I said weakly and was cut off by his lips.

I did kiss before. Be it truth or dare, bottle game or just drunk fooling around with my friends, my lips met other person’s lips. But not like that. It was never in a romantic way, not even mentioning the sexual aspect of this kiss.

His lips were soft, which was again a surprise, just like his hand. I whined, shutting down my eyes tightly and feeling his tongue pressing onto my own lips. Before I knew my body was reacting on its own, I released the pressure in my jaw and let him kiss me deeper. When his tongue slipped into my mouth I felt his hand, still resting on my back, slid down and grope my ass. I jumped again, pressing harder into his lips, which he met with a soft chuckle.

I started relaxing into the kiss after a moment, but every time he squeezed my asscheeks I was reminded what’s really going on. It was terrible, I couldn’t decide if I should at least try pushing him away or lean more onto him.

When he finished the kiss he stepped back with a smile. “Taste good,” he said. “You have a nice ass, too. Wish to see more.”

It wasn’t a question, again. It was a nudge. I was supposed to strip on my own. But I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through with it. From one side my body was all over the idea, if the rising tent in my shorts escort şerifali could be any indicator. From the other my mind was yelling at me to get out of there, go back to my apartment and take a long shower.

Miller for sure noticed my hesitation because he smiled sweetly and touched my cheek in somehow soothing way.

“Are you scared?” he asked. I swear I heard a tint of hidden satisfaction in his voice. I only nodded, because I didn’t trust my voice to not crack if I spoke up. I still believed there’s no way out of this for me. “Don’t be. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be slow and gentle, believe me, I know what I’m doing.” His thumb brushed my lips and I felt them tingle.

“I thought, I thought it’ll be different,” I finally managed to say, with hushed, trembling voice. I blushed more, realizing how delicate, pure I had to sound.

“What do you mean?”

“My, my first time.” I looked a little up, to see his expression. Miller looked like he was thinking about something for a moment, before he obviously realized what did I mean.

“Oh, like it’s not some tender time with your lover, isn’t it?” he asked and he guessed so well I wondered briefly if he was in similar situation before. I nodded. “Think about that. Once you’ll get a boyfriend you’ll be able to show him what you learned today. Don’t you think that’s better than being a log in bed?”

Honestly I didn’t understand what did he mean by that, but I got his point. He was right. I knew some stuff in theory but practice was something entirely different. For a moment there I made up my mind and quickly took my oversized shirt off. I held it in hands and looked around, wondering where can I put it, before looking at Miller.

He seemed a little surprised, seeing the top of my body. “I have to admit, I expected you to be a stick,” he said, nodding a little, “but you seem to have some muscles. That’s good. They’re useful when you ride a cock.”

I choked, wheezed and coughed a little, making Miller laugh. Who the hell says stuff like that? I glared at him but saw how his right hand strokes his dick through his pants and was left speechless again. Its outline was so obvious now. It wasn’t even fully hard but it seemed big so far.

“Strip naked and leave your stuff over there,” he pointed to a massage table, not stopping with his strokes. I gave a little node and moved over to it.

My insides were knotted and my breath was fast without even touching myself. I put my shirt on the table and looked back at Miller, again unsure. He was leaning on the door, his hand was now inside his dress pants, as if he tried to tell me there’s no turning back. I knew it and it was still making my stomach clench.

First I wondered if I should take off my shoes and socks. Most of the cold, tile floor was covered by a dark carpet, so I decided to take them off. I did, feeling Miller’s eyes on my bending back, knowing he’s watching my ass with that same hunger in eyes I noticed before. Then I dropped my shorts and hesitated a little before touching the waist of my boxers.

“Stop!”

I jumped and jerked my hand away from the last piece of cloth I had on myself. A little spooked I looked back at Miller. He approached me so I turned around to face him, before realizing that way he could see the outline of my own dick very well. He did look, his eyes lingered, before he shook his head.

“No, turn around again. I want to be the one discovering that treasure for the first time.” I bit my lip and did so. I immediately felt hands on my sides, making me shudder violently. No one ever touched me like that, with this intent. “You’re an obedient one, aren’t you?” He asked and I felt like it’s an rhetorical question.

His hands slid across my sides, fingers pressing onto my abdomen, up. He stopped over my chest, touching around it, sliding across my nipples and making me shudder again. He pinched one of them, pulled on it even, making me gasp before letting it go and brushing it lightly again. Then his hands were back to exploring my skin. He slid them around my chest, my arms, over my belly before finally settling on my hips. He pushed the boxers down only a little bit, hooking them under my bubbly ass and leaving over my already hard cock, making my cheeks stick up even more.

I sighed, feeling his hands kneeding my asscheeks. He murmured “score” before taking his hands away. I felt a little uneasy, because I didn’t know what is he planning, when I felt something firm and smooth right above my ass crack. I stiffened again with air pumped out of my lungs. I swear I even teared up a little out of the shock. His penis was touching my back. His hot, stiff dick was sliding over my asscheeks with little trusts. It was the first dick I ever touched in my life and it weren’t even my hands that touched it.

Again I shut down my eyes but that only made the sensation stronger. I licked my lips, wondering if he’ll make me suck him, imagining how did we looked like from behind right now, with his hands on my hips and his dick brushing against my ass.

After few moments he stopped and took his hands away from me. I couldn’t really describe how I felt right then. For sure dirty, and not fun dirty, having the idea of someone else’s cock sliding around my body. But I also wondered where did the warm go?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This goes without saying, but this story is a work of fantasy. Consent is sexy.

*

I don’t remember how I got here. All I remember was meeting two guys at the bar, they bought me a shot, and then… things went dark. Did they drug me? All I could say for certain was that I now I had a bag over my head and my arms attached to a metal rod at the head of the bed frame. They weren’t attached to the bed frame itself, but something that felt like a splitter bar holding them a few feet apart.

“Hi, James,” a soft voice greeted me. “You’re in good hands. We’re so glad you came up with this idea.” What the hell did I agree to and how long had I been out? I wanted to talk, but my throat was dry and I could only make a soft croaking noise.

“Oh, let me help you,” he said. Up under the hood came a tube that this mysterious caretaker angled into my mouth. Through it flowed a liquid. I immediately spit it out because I was still trying to figure out what happened after the last time I took a drink from them. “Relax, it’s just water.”

I wanted to be principled and not take it, but I was more thirsty than I’d ever been in my life. Reluctantly, I drank the water. The kind man at my bedside gave me as much as I could drink. “If you want more, just ask,” he said.

I tried my hand at talking once again. “What the hell is going on?” My voice was rough like I’d been smoking a pack a day for twenty years. “Who are you and why can’t I move?”

“Don’t act so confused. This was all your idea.” said my caretaker. “Do you remember that party about a month ago in Uptown? It was a costume party and the host was dressed like Wonder Woman?”

I remained silent, searching my brain. It seemed like a world away from my current predicament. “Uhm, yeah. I guess.”

“Do you remember sitting out on the deck with a guy named Davis who said he was a hypnotist?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do”, I said. It was a pretty nondescript night, but I remembered Davis. He was a fairly normal looking guy. We talked about working out, books, current events — normal things. After a few minutes, he mentioned that he knew hypnosis, and I laughed. I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went, but he asked if he could try to put me under. I also remember thinking that he probably learned hypnosis from a YouTube video because he wasn’t very good at it. “He kept saying he could hypnotize me. He tried using a watch but I couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous he was.” I paused to think of more details. “What does that have to do with this?”

My caretaker laughed. “Well, apparently the hypnosis worked better than you thought. Once he had you under trance, he asked you what your fantasy was. You gave quite an interesting answer! He ran that idea past his fanbase, and turns out what you wanted to happen to you was something people would be willing to pay to see.”

I began to flail around at my restraints. My legs were tied together, and my arms refused to budge from their bar. All the while, I started ranting to my caretaker that he was so very wrong. “I don’t know what the hell you think I want, but this isn’t it. And I certainly don’t want to be watched while you sick fucks do this to me.”

He clapped, and my body fell limp. My arms and legs felt like they went to sleep. I wanted to move them, but the nerve impulses to them went unanswered. What the hell? I thought. What is going on?

I could hear the caretaker chuckling. “You did say that your unwillingness was part of the turn on. You even signed a paper to that effect. But don’t worry, at this point, you’re going to do it whether you want to or not. As you just noticed when I clapped, the triggers are already in place.” Slowly, my limbs woke up and I was able to move them again though they were heavy again as if I’d just woken up. “You don’t have a ton of triggers implanted. Just a few that make it easy to control you. It’s important that you be able to struggle.”

The caretaker clapped again and once more I fell limp. It was a strange sensation being terrified with all of my muscles completely relaxed. He lifted the hood to expose my mouth and shoved a pill in. “This is an isolated part of MDMA. You won’t be getting high from it, but it will heighten your sensations. Everything will start to feel very good shortly.” He ran his fingernails down my bare chest in a teasing manner which made me realize for the first time that I was completely naked. “Take a few minutes to get used to that. Pretty soon, you’ll be wishing for it to end.”

*

As I waited, I started to think about just what in the hell I could have told them that would have led to me being chained to a bed naked and given a drug by a mystery man. More importantly, what did that have to do with this Davis guy? It’s obviously a sexual thing but there’s a small chance that I was about to be tortured. Maybe they were lying about the consent and this is all part of their sick ploy. And then I had an idea of what it might be.

It’d been a while since I’d escort çekmeköy been with a woman. I consider myself to be straight, but as we can all attest, the longer between partners, the weirder your sexual fantasies get. At first, I loved watching women have forced orgasms. Then I read that men can have something very similar by stimulating their prostate. I bought a few toys and practiced, but never quite got the hang of it. Don’t get me wrong: it felt amazing to blow a load with something in my ass, but it was never the earth-shattering orgasm that was supposedly analogous to a g-spot orgasm.

In my search for how to achieve the mythical prostate orgasm, my porn tastes had started to get a little weirder, too. Again, I’m not gay, but gay guys know how to work the equipment I had, if you catch my drift. And I’d never really experimented before, so maybe I’d like it. I’d downloaded Grindr and cruised DoubleList some before, but never pulled the trigger with meeting people from either. In the end, I always got cold feet and chalked it up to being what the Internet calls “Prison Gay”.

Oh god, I thought. Did I tell him that I wanted to try gay things? What the hell! This isn’t good! I tried (and failed) not to hyperventilate. What made it worse was that every breath and movement against the soft bedsheets felt amazing. The drug was working. My thoughts raced between thinking about what a prostate orgasm might feel like on this and being terrified. I could feel my cock getting harder by the second until it felt like it was going to burst.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard the door open and more than one person walk in. My caretaker asked how I was doing, and I didn’t respond. He knew. I heard the smirk in his voice. He clapped once and like clockwork I fell limp. My hands remained shackled in their bar, but I felt someone unlatch my metal bar from it’s holding place while another man untied my legs. These new men then lifted me up and placed me facedown on something that felt like a massage chair with no headrest. I went to move my arms and found that they’d been attached to a metal rod at the head of the bedframe. They weren’t attached to the bed frame itself, but something that felt like a splitter bar holding them a few feet apart.Then one man shackled my ankles while the other affixed my arm bar to something sturdy. Lastly, I felt something come down on the back of my neck and lock my head in place.

I’d never felt so exposed in my life. There was a pad under my legs for support, but it left my bare cheeks open wide, the entry path unobstructed. I had no defense for anyone or anything that wanted to explore my ass. And what was worse was that there was no way to hide my face. Whatever they did to me, I couldn’t look away or have a private moment.

After a second, I felt the whole contraption move. The casters squeaked as I rolled down the hall, heading towards my uncertain date with destiny.

——————————————————————————

They say when you lose one sense, the others get better. I wasn’t able to see or smell anything through the hood, but I was able to hear and feel a lot. As we breezed down the hallway, the wind brushed against the hairs on my exposed body. The doors sounded heavy with firm, authoritarian latches as they each closed behind me, each reminding me that I was not in control of what was happening. My captors were wearing tennis shoes that made only the slightest noise with each step on the hard floor and their clothes rustled as they walked.

After the last door, I was wheeled into a room that had very different acoustics and a quiet buzz. I felt a warmth on my back as I was swung around and my some of my escorts walked away. I thought that I was alone when my caretaker quietly whispered “words off.” He touched my shoulder with his warm hand and heard him laugh. “That trigger is a fun one that I’ll go ahead and spoil for you. Now you’ll be able to make noises all you want but not be able to form any words. Just mindless moaning. Have fun.”

As I waited with anticipation for what came next, a voice boomed over a loudspeaker and reverberated across the room. “Good evening, everyone. Welcome to tonight’s show. I’d like to remind newcomers and guests alike that there is no personal video or photography of any kind allowed. If you would like to purchase a copy of tonight’s show, you can do so by reaching out to myself, Davis Winfield, or one of the other show runners that you see around here tonight. We also ask for your discretion. Our talent this evening has been very brave to volunteer, so if you know him or see him in the real world, you can remind him that you saw his, ahem, ‘one man show’, but please refrain from outing him to others. Also, know that while his non-consent is part of his fantasy, we have followed all legal channels and nothing illegal is happening on this stage.

“Lastly, we’d like to welcome our viewers istanbul eskort watching via web stream. Those who are in our audience tonight have prepaid to see all three challenges performed by our talent, but those of you online will be paying per round. Don’t worry, we’ll let you know when you have to pay for the next round.

“I think that covers most of our housekeeping issues. Unless anyone else has anything to add, let’s get started with our guest tonight. Please welcome to the stage, James!”

*

The bag was quickly yanked off my head to reveal I was on a brightly lit stage in a room full of about 100 people. There were also cameras with glowing red lights above them all pointed at me. I could see a few monitors that showed close ups of my face, my cock, and my asshole. All were on display for the entire audience to see.

I locked eyes with Davis for the first time since the party. I must have looked somewhat scared because he put his hand on the side of my face and said loudly enough for the mics to pick up “Don’t worry. You’ll love this!” He then turned to the audience and winked.

“The plan for the evening is very simple,” he explained, “James told me while in a hypnotic state that he dreamed of experiencing a prostate orgasm while bound. He expressed his hesitance to have it happen at the hand of another man but also his fear of bringing it up with a girlfriend. He also expressed to me that he’s been watching some porn that borders on homosexual and it’s spoked his curiosity about giving blowjobs. Well, tonight that dream is coming true, James. What do you have to say about that?”

He leaned in closely so I could speak into his lapel mic but no words came out. I was only able to stammer and guffaw, though even if my trigger hadn’t been activated, I still don’t know what I would have said.

“You’re so eloquent, James.” The audience laughed. “Your evening will consist of three challenges. First will be to withhold from having an orgasm at the hands of our designated masseuse, Erik. If you fail that, then you’ll have to go for a second round where Erik will make keep fingering you but this time you’ll be giving Rob a blowjob at the same time. Your goal will be to get Rob to finish before you do. If you fail, you’ll have to go a third round which is where Erik gets to show you his real massage trick where he doesn’t use his hands.” He winked as the audience laughed. “Let the games begin.” He then walked out of my field of view.

I should have been scared but at that same moment, I felt a sturdy hand begin to caress my backdoor. Slathered in lubricant, I felt a finger slowly rub the outside of my anus. I tried to move away from the man behind me, but I couldn’t move more than a few inches. Between the eyes watching me, the restraints, and the sensation of someone touching me where I’d literally never been touched by another person before, it was overwhelming.

I was still eyeing the crowd and debating what I was going to do when Erik slipped one finger in. He went slowly, working his finger like a worm until he was in all the way down to his knuckle. His articulation demanded my attention and before long he had slipped in a second one. It wasn’t long before he found what he was seeking and began to move his finger in a “come here” motion. When he first hit my prostate, I jumped a little and let out a little yelp. My startled reaction sent a wave of nervous energy through the crowd and telegraphed to them that Davis was in fact not lying: I had never experienced this before, and they were in for a show.

Erik’s fingers continued to rub my most forbidden of places, but I wasn’t immediately reduced to a drooling mess like I expected to be. Don’t get me wrong, it felt good. It was a new sensation that no prostate massager had ever given me before this, but I was able to keep my wits about me. Maybe I’d be able to not have a forced gay experience in front of an audience tonight. Maybe I was one of those who simply couldn’t have an orgasm this way.

I even began to believe this lie until I realized that my breathing was getting more shallow by the minute and my hands were beginning to shake. It wasn’t conscious at all, but I was determined to control it. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. Deep breaths but not too deep. I didn’t want to put on a show for this group. I wanted to be so boring that people left or turned off their livestream. I closed my eyes and thought about anything else other than my current situation.

I paused at the top of my breath for a second to give the illusion I was so relaxed. This only made it worse. Instead of having a controlled exhale and normal breathing, all my breath left my body at once. I could only feel my heartbeat radiating from my chest. In a slight panic, I inhaled quickly to catch my rapidly escaping breath only to find myself out of my rhythm and trying to catch my breath. I was losing this challenge and knew that I had to do something fast. Problem was escort içerenköy that I’d never had one of these before. What came next? How do you stop what you can’t anticipate?

My breathing only caused Erik to dig in harder. He went after my prostate with more pressure and began spreading his fingers apart at random intervals. This change in his motion caught me off-guard and my eyes shot open at the same time as I gasped for air. I pulled at my restraints but my legs hardly budged and my hands hopelessly moved a few inches in their shackles.

I looked out at the crowd and people were starting to get into it. They were liking what they saw. I was losing control to Erik’s probing fingers and there was nothing I could do about it. It was a battle of my will versus my anatomy and my body was winning.

As I tightened my chest, a slight whimper escaped. A wave of subdued relief. spread throughout the crowd. As I looked back in shame, I lost control even more and it happened again. It wasn’t long before the whimpers grew into full-fledged moans as a surreal tightness began to envelope my lower body. Erik’s fingers had found their spot and refused to be denied. I could feel something leaking out of my cock as he fingered me which only added to the sensation.

Pretty soon, I’d lost track of everything. There was no one in the room as I closed my eyes and Erik’s fingers win the war.

“James,” Davis interrupted with a campy smirk. “How’s it going?” All of my awareness, my essential being was focused on the dull ache of my cock and the motion in my ass. That, plus the shortness of breath meant I wouldn’t have been able to form a sentence even if I was otherwise able. All I could respond with was open vowel sounds and a pathetic stare. “Come on, now,” Davis prodded again. He looked me in the eye and slowly told me “Words on. Do you want to cum?”

“I… I can’t… I can’t… Please… ” was all I managed to get out before I had to close my eyes again and focus on the radiating waves of pleasure caused by Erik’s fingers.

“You most certainly can.” Davis smiled, pandering to the crowd. “You know what it will cost you, though. I’ll give you the chance to stop all of this. Tell me, James: do you want to cum?”

As he asked the second time, Erik’s fingers vacated my backside, leaving me dangling at the edge. The pressure in my manhood felt like a weight. “I’m not… I… No…” I couldn’t string a sentence together, only fragments. I didn’t want to cum in front of all these people, but also the idea of stopping now was unbearable. Just a little more and I’d be over the crest. I was so close.

As the feeling began to subside, I was left with an overwhelming frustration. It hurt. All I had to say was ‘yes’ and I’d be able to cum. I was being tempted to just let it happen when Erik then slid his fingers back in and began to work me back to the edge.

I let out a desperate moan. The urge to cum was a thousand times stronger now and I started to move in sync with Erik’s fingers. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensation.

“James. I need an answer.” Davis was smirking again and put the microphone in my face. “Look at me. I can make you cum… for a price. Do you want it?”

I looked at him, then at the audience. I could see my face in the monitor contorted in discomfort. If I didn’t know the situation, I’d say I was about to cry. I shook my head no.

Erik stopped again.

This time, I let out a frustrated laugh/moan and shook my restraints as hard as I could but to no avail. My impending orgasm had nowhere to go and instead the pressure magnified in my dick. This time was worse than last, and it was becoming clear to me that there was only one way this ended.

Davis chuckled. “You seem so frustrated. I know what could take care of that. But I need to hear you say it: for the third time, do you want to cum?”

I was beyond words. I nodded yes.

“Say it.”

“Iwanttocum” I said in one breath. “Please god, I want to cum.”

“Say please.”

“Plea-ahhhhh!”

Halfway through ‘please’ Erik beared down harder than ever on my prostate. I moaned repeatedly with an open mouth as he vigorously fingered me until what can only be described as pure ecstasy washed over me. For what felt like an eternity, every muscle in my body tensed and something leaked out of my cock while I breathlessly gasped and moaned. Once it passed, I was breathing like I’d finished a marathon, and my eyes refused to focus on any one thing. My hands shook as I realized what had happened and what was going to come next.

“Words off. If I had to guess, I’d say you enjoyed that.” Davis said. “Guess it’s time for round 2.”

*

My movement against my restraints was a token gesture at best. I knew I was going nowhere, but my arms and legs were desperate to dissipate the energy that Erik’s fingers had imparted into my prostate. Even if Davis hadn’t revoked my talking privileges, I wouldn’t have been able to compose any words.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t about to get easier. I had no time to recover before Davis turned to the audience again. “For those watching at home, please click the button in the upper right corner now. If you do not, the stream will go dark in 30 seconds. For those who are sticking around, please welcome Rob to the stage!”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The farmhouse was a 1950s tract house, dropped into the wilderness. The man in camo fatigues made Tom take the lead through the back door, across the kitchen, and down the stairs to the basement. The space at the foot of the stairs was a laundry room, with a washer, dryer, and a big wash basin. The rest of the basement was walled off, with sheet metal doors denying access to the spaces beyond.

“That way.” Camo Man waved his gun arm toward the far end of the laundry room.

Tom stopped at the painted steel door. Camo Man took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door’s deadbolt. “Here’s your new home. We hope you enjoy your visit. We’re sure going to.”

He opened the door, revealing steel bars. “We’ll punish you if you try to escape.” Camo Man unlocked the bars and swung them open. “Severely.” He unfastened the cuffs and then pushed Tom, sending him stumbling into the room. He closed the bars and door. The deadbolt snicked into place.

He was in a large room with bare concrete walls and a worn rug on the concrete floor. The door bars were set in a cinderblock wall. Plywood sheets covered the barred windows. The only furniture was a king-sized mattress and a pair of heavy easy chairs. A toilet, sink, and a rusty steel shower stall occupied one corner of the room.

A man got up from the bed. “Hi. I’m Washington. Washington Jeffries.” Tom’s fellow prisoner was a slim college-age black man with untidy hair and an unkempt beard, naked except for a pair of clinging briefs that showed off his oversized dick. “How’d they get you?”

“I thought the road to this farm was a shortcut to my friends’ place. I was turning around and the guy in camo . . .”

“Caleb. Likes to be called ‘Sir.'”

“Okay, Caleb. He was pointing a rifle at me. Made me get out of the Jeep . . .” He felt ashamed, but continued anyway. “. . . And suck his dick.”

“Caleb sure likes blow jobs,” Washington said. “What then?”

“Another guy came over . . .”

“That’d be Donny. DO NOT get him mad. He’s got a real temper.”

“Uh . . . All right.”

“Just do what he says. It gets a little kinky, especially for a straight guy, I guess. But, you can handle it . . . It won’t hurt near as much as what Donny or Caleb will do if you disobey them. They won’t do any permanent damage, but still . . . Well, pain is pain.”

“So, we’re their sex slaves?”

Washington shrugged. escort yakacık “Yeah. That’s pretty much it.”

He put his hand on Tom’s crotch. “I want to fuck.” He unbuckled Tom’s belt and then opened his fly. He took Tom’s rapidly hardening cock out of his pants. “Looks like you’re ready.”

Washington pressed his hard athletic body against Tom’s and kissed him fiercely. They kissed, hard and dirty with aggressive tongues, while rubbing stiff cocks and kneading each other’s firm buttocks.

“Damn!” Washington growled. “You feel good. KISSING you feels great.” He kissed Tom again. The kiss went on and on with tongues thrusting and parrying. “I miss kissing. The sex with Caleb and Donny is pretty good, once you get used to the kinks, but they don’t kiss.”

He pushed Tom’s jeans down around his ankles. “There’s some other things they don’t do, either.” He turned Tom around and bent him over. “Like take it up the butt.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Tom asked. “Fuck me?”

“Do you like it up the ass?” Washington tore his tightly stretched briefs off and rubbed his stiff rod along Tom’s butt crack.

“Sure.” Tom’s hard cock jerked as Washington’s sliding pole teased his crack. “You got lube?”

“Yeah.” Washington got a squeeze bottle out of the crude bathroom.

“Nothing but the best for Donny’s and Caleb’s sex slaves.” Tom pushed his butt back toward Washington.

“You got it, bro.” Washington slid a lubricated finger up Tom’s ass. It went in easily. “Man! You’re ready.”

“Yeah.” Tom braced himself with his hands on his knees. “Stick your big hard cock up my ass.”

“Okay.” Washington pulled his finger out of Tom’s butthole and replaced it with his cock’s broad plow-head. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy.” His cock-head pressed into Tom’s anal ring, steadily stretching it open.

“It’s all right.” Tom held his anal muscles tight, making Washington work to get inside. “I’m ready for you.” He thrust his butt back, pushing Washington’s cock-head through his anal ring and on up his ass.

“Wow,” Washington said. “You ARE ready.” He drew back until his plow-head was barely kissing Tom’s pucker and then pushed back inside.

“Come on.” Tom tightened his ass muscles, gripping Washington’s swollen rod even more tightly. “Fuck me. Good and hard.”

“Like this?” Washington bayan escort istanbul fucked Tom with long swift strokes, pulling almost out and then slamming home, smashing his pelvis into Tom’s butt cheeks.

Tom’s stiff cock swayed and jerked as Washington hammered his butt. “Yeah,” he answered. “Just like that.”

The tension in Tom’s nuts was close to the boiling point when Washington growled like a wild panther and rammed his ass, shooting a hard hot pulse of cum into Tom’s depths.

“Fuck yeah!” Tom gasped. “Come in my ass.” His cock throbbed while Washington pounded his asshole, shooting over and over.

“Damn!” Washington pulled his still-hard rod out of Tom’s butt and stumbled away. “I sure needed that.”

“So did I.” Tom’s cock was as hard as a steel rod, with the steady stream of precum leaking from its tip running down its shaft and over his balls.

“You know, I’m usually a top,” Washington said. “So, getting it up the butt all the time . . .”

“I thought I was straight.” Tom grabbed Washington and kissed him roughly. “Then, I met a guy . . . He taught me what I’d been missing.”

“He sure taught you how to take it up the butt.” Washington gripped Tom’s hard cock and ran his closed fist up and down its swollen shaft. “Want to fuck me now?”

“Oh yeah. I like it both ways.” The jeans bunched around his ankles almost tripped Tom when he took a step toward Washington. “And you’ve got a really sexy ass.”

“All right. I’m ready.” Washington turned around, bent over, and waved his ass seductively.

“Not like that.” Tom slapped Washington’s butt playfully. “Get on the bed. I want to do it face-to-face.”

“A real romantic! That’s great.” Washington kissed Tom, then crossed the room and sat on the bed. Tom stripped hastily and followed him.

“You want me like this?” Washington lay on his back in the middle of the bed with a pillow under the small of his back and folded his knees against his chest, elevating his sculpted buttocks.

“Oh yeah,” Tom growled. The little pucker between Washington’s chocolate buns, garnished by his stiff cock and bulging balls, was SO tasty and inviting. He wanted to eat it, but that would have to wait. Right now, his painfully hard rod would not be denied. “That’s perfect.”

Tom picked up the lubricant and spread a line of the slippery gel on his escort bağdat caddesi finger, then slid that finger up Washington’s hot little hole. It went in easily.

Washington’s cock jerked as Tom worked his finger in and out of the black stud’s asshole. “Feels good,” he said. “When YOU do it.”

“Just me?” Tom pulled his finger out of Washington’s butt.

“I’ve learned to like it with Caleb and Donny.” Washington curled his fingers around his stiff rod and stroked it slowly while he watched Tom lubricate his hard dick. “But, they raped me. I was an anal virgin. Donny was my first man. Then Caleb took his turn. They weren’t gentle about it.”

He frowned briefly, but then grinned at the towering pole rising from Tom’s crotch. “Come on and fuck me. I want YOUR big hard cock.”

Tom pressed his cock-head into the center of Washington’s pretty puckered hole. It opened easily and he slid inside, up to the hilt. “Your ass sure feels good.” He fucked Washington slowly, pulling almost out and then pressing back in.

“Oh God yeah!” Washington gasped. “That feels so . . . fucking . . . good!” He jacked his cock and squeezed his balls while Tom fucked him harder and faster. “That’s right! Pound my ass!”

“Your ass feels so good.” Tom gripped Washington’s ankles and pushed them up over his shoulders, then fucked him roughly, swinging his legs in a wide arc and rocking his butt up, driving his straining cock deep into the ebony stud’s tight hot hole.

“Shoot it for me!” Washington cried, jacking his swollen pole frantically. “I want to feel—”

“Take it!” Tom grunted. “Take my big hot load.” He slammed Washington, shooting pulse after hard pulse of cum up his ass.

“Yeah! That’s right . . .” Cum fountained from Washington’s dick, splashing his belly and chest.

Tom finished and pulled his dick out of Washington’s asshole. “That was great.”

“I really needed that,” Washington said. “To remind me there’s something besides the dungeon . . .”

“What’s the dungeon?”

“Our white supremacist masters have a taste for BDSM. And cameras. They wear masks. You don’t. You’re gonna be starring in a dark web video . . . Soon.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Copyright © 2020 by Ken James

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales, organizations, or events is entirely coincidental.

Please contact me. I love getting feedback and reply to every message.

Thanks to Wayde, my greatest fan, best friend, and husband, for all his love, enthusiasm, and support.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I became obsessed with Brian’s cock from his profile pic. It displayed a nicely sized cock with a well proportioned head. I could see he shaved everything. There was something else that set it apart. The lighting, focus and detail was perfect like it was a studio shot. His other public pictures were better than most peoples’ but this one got to me. I sent him a message. I received a response shortly after. This started a month of messaging conversations flirting and describing what we would do to the other. I was ready to meet from day one. He took a while before agreeing. Then our timing didn’t work. He hadn’t been with a man before so he had some reservations. I had experienced it personally and helped one other man through it.

I decided a new approach was needed. I started asking him to send more pictures of his body and cock in particular. Maybe he’ll get comfortable enough to meet. He had told me the neighborhood he lived in during one conversation. Then, one of the pictures showed the view from a front window. The house numbers across the street were crystal clear. Bingo! I immediately went out to check the homes with that number. I drove through his neighborhood and easily found it. I sat and looked at his house across the street.

I started a routine of waiting for him to leave the house and following him. I found where he works. I followed him at the grocery store. I needed to find a way to break the ice. One afternoon an idea came to mind. I sent a couple more sexy pics but included a striped shirt in the background. It wasn’t too bright but hopefully distinct enough to catch his eye when we meet.

The next evening an opportunity arose. I followed him to a home improvement store. It was a Wednesday night and the parking lot was almost deserted. I put on the striped shirt from my pictures, waited for him to go in and followed. I grabbed a cart and put a box off a shelf in it. I circled around and approached him. The shirt worked. When we were nearly face to face I saw him staring at it. I gave him a second to make eye contact. escort dudullu

“Hi, are you Brian?” I asked. I was getting nervous about how he would respond. Had I really thought this through?

“Hi, yes I am.” he responded.

“Brian 4576?” I asked. Ok, I hadn’t thought this through. How do I explain this one to him? I realized I was a couple inches taller making him look up at me. I tried to appear shorter by leaning on the cart a bit. I wasn’t trying to intimidate. Is this about to go horribly wrong?

“Yes, that’s me.” he said, almost as an admission.

“I’m Steven, we’ve been chatting online recently.” I let it hang out there for a minute. I started freaking out inside. I was sweating. I hadn’t thought about much of anything else since seeing that first cock pic. I was so obsessed with it I made it the wallpaper on my phone. If this goes wrong I don’t know how to recover. It has to work out.

He reached out and took my hand in his. He pulled and I followed. This has to be good right? He led me to the restroom. Yes! I hope this means what I think it does. He took us to the last stall. I went in first. I needed Brian to put as much initiative into this as possible. He followed, turned and locked the door.

When he turned back I held him close and I kissed him briefly. I think he kissed me back but I didn’t want to risk turning him off from this. I moved down to kiss his neck. I kissed and sucked a bit while I unbuttoned his shorts. I let them fall. I reached in his underwear and felt his cock. I pulled it out. I wanted to look at it but was still kissing his neck, moving to his chest a bit. He hardened quickly to my touch. I need to see and taste it now.

I got to my knees and was finally face to face with the cock. His cock that had consumed my dreams and thoughts for a month. The one that made me miss work. The one that woke me up early every day. It was inches in front of me. I couldn’t wait or move slowly. I put my mouth on it. To the base. My istanbul bayan escort nose was pushing on his soft shaved skin. My goatee was pushing his balls back. My hands rested on his smooth hips. I pushed my tongue out to feel his balls a little more. His head pushed into my throat. I pulled back while running my tongue back and forth across his cock. The skin felt as soft and smooth as I imagined. The head perfectly matched my lips while I flicked tip. I heard him moan and I knew we would be alright. I took him in to the base again. I made sure he could feel my goatee again on his balls. I wanted it to add to the eroticism so he would come back to me again after tonight.

I sensed he was trying to cum but I wanted more. I invested a lot of time and effort to get to this point and it needed to last. I slowed and lessened my pressure. He relaxed so I could continue to build him up again. I worked him with my tongue and rhythmically took him in letting his head enter my throat. I had worked on meeting him for a month and I wanted the first time to be memorable. I sensed his orgasm coming again and pulled off him. I licked his balls and held his cock lightly in one hand.

After he relaxed a second time I took him in again. Next time I would allow him to cum. I would get my first reward for finding him. The pressure in my shorts had become too much so I pulled my cock out. I didn’t jerk it because one stroke would set it off. Hopefully I can get Brian to take care of it today. I accelerated my efforts because his moans were getting more audible. Eventually someone would hear us. His body tensed and I felt him stand straighter. His hips moved in time with my head riding his cock. I put a hand on his balls in time to feel them tighten. His head swelled. I positioned to get his cum on my tongue with my lips holding the head tight. He squirted my reward over my tongue covering it quickly. I had worked for this delight. I savored it before swallowing most of my treat.

I wondered how far I could push him. escort kozyatağı His profile said cum swapping and cum eating was a turn on so let’s have Brian prove it. I had some left on my tongue. I stood and went in for a kiss. He met my lips so I opened them to touch his with my tongue. He moaned again meeting my tongue with his. He pushed closer in. I pulled my tongue back to cover it with my saliva and his remaining cum left in my mouth. He moaned again when he got another taste of it. I pulled my tongue back and we kissed just with our lips for a moment.

He stepped back and saw my cock. I think it may have startled him. He reached out to hold it regardless. He used my precum to lubricate his hand sliding on my shaft. I moaned. It felt so good after being hard for this time without getting any attention. He went to his knees and stared at my cock. He wasn’t experienced with men so I let him take his time.

Brian took me in his mouth. I almost shot right then. His mouth felt soft and comforting as he slid it down my cock taking more in. He fit most of my cock in but not all of it. He started bobbing his head on me. It felt good and I moaned involuntarily. He would make me cum soon and I would let him. I could teach him how to prolong a guy’s orgasm when giving head but that would have to wait for another time. I felt it coming over me. I warned him I was close. He continued his movements. I came when he had my head against his throat. It is nice to have my cock deep in a warm, wet mouth when cumming. I held his head down on me. I like a cock to shoot in my mouth so I can taste it but shooting directly in a man’s throat is satisfyingly enjoyable. I held it there as long as I thought he could handle it. When I pulled out he had to take a few breaths.

He stood and we kissed again. Another good sign that he will meet with me again. It was soft and I felt like we were really connecting. I broke it off.

“I need to get back before I am missed too much.” No one was there to miss me but we had been here for too long. Eventually a manager would come through.

“Ok, it was great to meet you.” he offered it sincerely.

“Yeah, I would like to hang out with you sometime soon. Let me know when you have time.” I responded.

We shared one last kiss before I went to clean up at a sink. Just then a manager came in so I walked out and headed home.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is a true story of how a military stud let me have him for a night. This was the first and only time I’ve made it with a straight guy.

I’m one who believes all the “straight guys” who get it on with dudes are gay or bi and simply can’t deal with it. I don’t blame them nor hold a grudge nor judge. I’m just sayin. However, I’m not so sure about my military buddy. I really do think he’s straight. The following events happened in the late 2000s at my brother’s wedding. Names are real. Some detail left vague.

First, a little backstory on how this came to pass. My brother left home in late 1990s to join the military. I wouldn’t describe us as extremely close. He traveled the world and a couple years later I went off to college. When he settled down, it was a 6 hour flight from home so it was a few years until I visited him. He was definitely living the military life. When we talked on the phone he would tell me crazy stories of how much he and his military buds would drink, the fights they would get into, and of the girls they would fuck both foreign and domestic.

I however, wasn’t a wild guy. I was closeted though college and until my early twenties, was rather tall and lanky. Definitely one who got teased in high school. I got into lifting weights, though, and by my mid-twenties, I started to come into my own and began to have friends and strangers alike tell me I’m an attractive guy.

After college, I continued to work out because I’m a sucker for a guy with muscles. I figured, “look like what you want to get.” Today I’m 6’2″, 200 pounds and pretty athletic looking. With dark hair, scruff, and a good smile, let’s just say I don’t get teased anymore. I’ve had strangers approach me to ask if they could feel my muscles which lets me know my hard work paid off.

After I came out to my family, my brother and I actually got a bit closer simply because we could talk openly about both our relationships, not just his. Of course my comments about guys grosses him out, in an endearing way, so I give him as much crap about it as I can.

In 2004, I went to visit him. This is where I met his military friends. You of course have preconceived notions about military guys, but disappointingly, I didn’t find any of them attractive. I love a beefy guy with a good set of pecs and a nice big muscled ass. His friends were none of that. It was obvious that some of them were a little uneasy around me initially, but by day two I was just one of the guys playing poker, etc.

For a fun evening, my brother and his girlfriend and their collective friends decided to take me to the gay bar in their town. It was going to be all people I had met plus one more guy: Steve. Most of the guys hadn’t been there before and wanted to leave as soon as we walked in, but my bro made them humor me. Steve showed up late. Honestly, all I recall from that first meeting is that he had a tank top on and that my brother said he knew that Steve had been to that bar before. It was a mixed bar, really, so I didn’t think much of it. He spent most of the time dancing with the girls in our group. I’m not sure if we even spoke ten words to each other. It was all so unassuming. Of all my brother’s friends, though, Steve looked like he actually used the gym on base. And if I was in a pinch, I would have opted for Steve. He was in decent shape, maybe 6′ tall, short dark hair, sharp jaw, kinda bad-ass looking; though nothing amazing as I don’t really recall too much about him that night. We left shortly after and that was that.

Fast forward to the late 2000s. My brother had a destination wedding and we were to spend a week in the sun before the date. Three of his military buds went, including Steve. The 5 of us guys were staying at a different hotel from everyone else because we knew we might get a little crazier than the rest of the family. We had two double queen rooms, my bro escort pendik and I in one, and his 3 military buds in the other room.

The first night, we went out for a reunion drink. I could tell Steve had been working out. He had a hoodie on as it was relatively cool, but I could tell he had filled out a bit. His pecs were visible through the thick material of his top. I immediately noted I needed to pick up my straight persona more because these guys were definitely military dudes. They hadn’t changed a bit.

The next morning, we went out to sit in the sun and shoot tequila. As soon as Steve walked out of his room in his tank top it was very obvious he had been hitting the gym. “Holy shit,” I thought, “This guy must have put on 20 lbs of muscle.” He was now no longer forgettable. He was sporting nice cantaloupe sized shoulders, big firm biceps with a few new tattoos on them, and from what I could tell, my favorites: a nice big chest and great muscled ass. Walking behind him, I couldn’t take my eyes away from his beautiful ass which was lifting and bouncing with every step he took.

As we planned to get a few drinks on a patio somewhere, it came out that Steve had been sober for 8 months. It was simply a personal decision as he felt he needed a break from the crazy life. However, he was planning to end his hiatus that week.

A few drinks in, we all got a little more lively and I remember Steve reporting that he was feeling his alcohol a little more because it had been so long since he had an alcoholic beverage. Conversation flowed between the guys’ shared memories and sex. It was what I would assume is normal military banter. As the guys gave each other shit, it came to light that Steve was apparently proud of his cock, as evidenced by his history of taking his dick out and waving it around. All the guys groaned as if it were something they’ve all seen way too many times. I figured the way the booze was flowing there was a chance I might be so lucky to see this muscle stud’s cock.

The next day, the five of us got drunk off tequila shooters and found ourselves back in one of the hotel rooms, mid-day, drinking more and joking around. Most of us were shirtless including Steve. I had my sunglasses on through the day so I got to stare at his hot body whenever I wanted. His big pecs and perfectly proportionate nipples took the brunt of my attention. Eventually, everyone got wild enough, wrestling, pillow fighting, etc, that Steve found the moment to whip out his dick and threatened to beat people with it. Who knows why. Everyone was yelling and trying to get away. I grabbed my camera and told him if he did it I was going to take pictures of the whole thing. Nothing phased him. He unzipped his fly and flopped out his tool. With my bro and his buds right there, I couldn’t do anything but laugh and snap some pictures. His huge shaft protruded out from under his tight, shaved stomach. He wasn’t hard, but it almost looked like he was. It had to be 5 inches long in whatever state it was in. to my surprise, he also had a big ol’ prince albert dangling on the end of his large cockhead. Steve waved his heavy tool around a bit as the guys continued to hide and throw things at him. I just sat in my chair and enjoyed the moment.

The following night was the bachelor party. I don’t remember too much of the night except for we went to a strip club. A strip club in a non-first-world country. I feared the worst. Surprisingly, it was nicer than most of the places we had been to. I remember getting my brother a private dance. Some of the other guys did as well. Later, it came to light that Steve actually messed around with one of them. Gross, but more power to ya’, buddy.

Status quo the following day and night. We rested in the sun during the day and drank by evening. It was the night before the wedding istanbul escort and my brother stayed with his fiancé’s family at a different hotel because they had to do errands for the wedding. It was pretty late and some of the guys wanted to stay out later. Steve and I were pretty drunk and somehow the two of us ended up walking back to the hotel together. We only had one room key which meant we would be staying in the same room. Because of the drinking, I don’t really remember what was said but I do remember initially, talking about Steve’s past and decision to stop drinking for a while. The guy was a little more sensitive and real that they all let on.

In his stupor, Steve eventually said, “Let’s go back to the strip club and find some girls to fuck.” To which I replied, “Why would I want to do that? Besides we have no way of getting there and we are drunk enough as it is.”

Steve eventually agreed to head back to the room, despite repeated comments about wanting to fuck some bitches. The next think I remember, we had made it back to the room. He crashed on one bed and fell onto the other. We didn’t even turn the lights on. He kept talking about wanting to find girls.

“Steve, I’m not going back out there,” I said.

He replied, “But I’m horny.”

Was this guy expressing he was willing to play? I had no idea and didn’t really get any vide earlier. Never before had I ever thought I would get it on with a straight guy, but if there ever was a chance, this was it. Without inhibition, I went for it.

Not exact quotes, but the next could seconds went something like: Me: “Why do you wanna find a girl? Guys give better head anyway.” Steve: “I’ve heard that. I don’t think I would care if it’s a guy or a girl, I just like sex.” Me: “Care to find out if it’s true?” Steve: (after a pause, either because he was thinking or due to his inebriation) “Sure.”

Holy shit! This straight, 6 foot tall, muscled military bad ass was going to let me suck his huge pierced cock. My stomach was in knots. But I was feeling abnormally confident. I vividly remember the rest of the night.

“Come over here, then,” I said. He responded with, “You come over here.”

I didn’t hesitate. I got up and walked over to the foot of his bed. He was lying on his back on top of the covers in his boxers. The only light was from what little could get through the curtains. Steve’s muscled chest, hard abs, and thick legs lain before me.

I went straight for his dick. I pulled off his boxers and his beautiful semi-hard cock was right in front of my mouth. He had very little pubic hair and his balls were shaved. I took his shaft in my hand and even semi-hard, his dick was longer than my hand. I took the tip in in mouth, prince albert and all, and began to service this muscle stud. As his cock grew to full size, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to deep throat him without puncturing a lung, but I kept at it. He moaned a little as my wet tongue round its way down to his big hairless sack, glided up his muscled thigh, and back to his cock. My other hand found its way to his balls and I pressed my thumb into his taint to stimulate his prostate from the outside while my other hand worked its way past his smooth six pack to his big pecs. I played with his hard nipple, which, at this point, pointed straight down from the ledge of his well-defined chest.

Steve’s moaning increased as I played with his taint so I figured I would take it a step further. I lifted one of his legs so his foot was on the bed, exposing an absolutely beautiful pink hairless asshole that begged to be licked.

I was a little tickled inside that this straight guy shaved his ass, but it only gave my tongue easier access. “Have you ever had anyone eat your ass?” I asked. He didn’t reply. Frankly, it was a rhetorical question. I was about to devour this stud’s escort kurtköy hot hole.

I worked my way down his balls, over his raised taint, and grazed the edge of his sweet hole. I heard him take in a small gasp of air. That was all I needed. I dove in. I lifted his cheeks off the bed so his virgin ass was in my face and, open mouthed, took his rim cherry. My tongue worked its way around and deep inside his hole and along the sides onto his round ass, only to dive back into his hole. I was in heaven. I could tell he liked it too because his heavy breathing was only interrupted by moaning.

Very shortly Steve’s weight became an issue for my arm and I put him back down. “Roll over,” I commanded. Steve didn’t fight it. He flipped over onto his stomach and in the low light, his perfect ass looked up at me from the bed. His skin was smooth, soft yet firm, and ready to be chewed on. Again I knelt down, positioning myself at the end of the bed.

I grabbed Steve’s hard dick and pulled it back. There was my favorite image of a man: hard dick sticking out between two muscled legs, topped by a great set of balls hanging from his taint. His taint begging to be licked, only second to his hot muscled hole nestled between his two beefy ass cheeks.

I took my time taking in the view before I descended upon his ass. For the next 15 minutes Steve let me lick, chew, and finger his hole, moaning the whole time. I was in heaven. I had long since kicked off my boxers as well and had myself on the edge of cumming, enjoying this incredibly erotic night.

Steve was loving it. He was extremely drunk, but was able to gyrate his ass enough to let me know when I was doing something he liked. Then he dropped the bomb: “I want you to fuck me,” he said.

I contemplated it for a sec, then, straight laced me, knowing that just the night before had been with some girl –and who knows where she had been—I decided against it.

I told him “No, you’re gonna lay here just like this while I go take a piss. Then I’m going to come back here and eat your ass until I cum all over you.”

Again, he didn’t protest. I came back from the toilet, knelt down again, and got back to this man’s hole. Within a couple minutes I felt my orgasm approaching. I have a pretty explosive cum shot and I wanted to sock this stud in my juice. I stood up over him and let it fly. My cum shot across the bed onto his upper back and Steve just moaned. He was rock hard, but I didn’t care and didn’t even ask if I could help him finish. I had just used this stud to get off.

“Thanks.” Was all I said.

I went bed and passed out, smiling, I’m sure. That was all so surreal and rather unlike me. The next morning, I woke up, Steve was still sleeping, and I went down to the hotel pool to find the other guys sitting in and around the pool. My brother was there too. We hung out for a bit, talking about the previous night. Out of nowhere, Steve appeared on the balcony overlooking the pool, and yelled out, “Your brother corn-holed me last night!”

The place erupted into chaos. They looked to me for affirmation or denial. I said “I didn’t corn-hole him, just gave him a rim job and came all over him.” That only set the guys off more. They pretty much thought it was hilarious. The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch and strangely, there wasn’t even the slightest bit of tension between Steve and I. I he was drunk enough that he didn’t remember too much about it.

If I had the chance to do it again, I would have spent more time licking and sucking his upper body and chest. I also would have tried to kiss him to see if he reciprocated. I’m not disappointed I didn’t fuck him simply from a ‘safety’ factor. All in all, though, it was one of the hottest experiences I’ve had.

Today we are facebook friends. I check up on his pics every now and then and we exchange messages infrequently (which is more than we do with a lot of our facebook ‘friends’, I guess). I know he did a true bodybuilding show not too long after my brother’s wedding, got married, and has a kid now.

Straight or bi? Probably bi-curious though I think his days of messing around are behind him. Lucky me.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

When Brandon left for college, I’d never felt so alone, confused or out of place. He’d always looked out for me, being a 19-year-old guy who stands only 5’4″ and weighing in at just over 110lbs, I needed his protection! We met during my junior year in high school, but got closer during our final year. Without him, my last two years of school would have been unbearable. Over time, I’d learned of ways to repay his kindness. I don’t think anyone could have guessed what we did when we were alone, except for his dad.

Mr. Reynolds had caught us in a couple of awkward situations. He’d once walked into his living room while I knelt naked between his son’s legs and was giving him my very best blowjob. Brandon was able to simply slip his erection back into his pants. I on the other hand, had to run across the room naked because Brandon had stripped me in his bedroom. That was the same day Mr. Reynolds learned I kept my body smooth, mostly because Brandon liked me that way. Even my small, pinkish erection is kept completely without hair. On another occasion, I happened to look up from Brandon’s eyes while I practiced giving him a lap-dance to see Mr. Reynolds staring at me! The craziest thing was that Mr. Reynolds looked just as aroused as Brandon!

Three long lonely months passed slowly after he left. During that time, I found myself thinking more and more about Mr. Reynolds. To me completely honest, I was missing him just as much as I missed his son! It sounds terrible I know. But I couldn’t help it.

I must’ve wandered by his home a dozen times before he finally noticed me. I was a little ways down the street when I heard him open his front door and call out, “Bailey”. Hearing his deep voice call out my name sent a shiver up my spine. Biting my lower lip and spinning around, I waved and began to quickly walk back toward him. I watched his eyes wander up and down my body as I approached. Wearing a simple white t-shirt, light denim shorts, white tennis shoes and ankle socks, I hoped he liked how I looked.

He stood on the porch, leaning against a post with a big smile on his face. He was wearing a blue dress shirt with khaki’s and brown dress shoes. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone exposing the white t-shirt wore beneath. Just like his son, Mr. Reynolds towered over me by almost a foot. He had broad shoulders, deep brown eyes and his dark brown hair had barely receded. When I got within a few steps of him, I said “Hi Mr. Reynolds. I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

He smiled and allowed his eyes to wander back down to my shoes and all the way back up before he answered. “I’ve been good. I’m missing Brandon, but seeing you has completely cured me of that.”

I smiled brightly and told him that I’d been missing his son too. We chatted for a little longer on his porch before he invited me inside so we could continue talking over a cool drink. All I could think about was him remembering the compromising positions he’d caught me in. I thought he was attracted to me, but I really hoped he liked me as much as I liked him. I knew, if he ever made a pass at me, I’d let him do whatever he wanted. With that thought in mind, I’m sure I blushed deeply when I accepted his invitation. He held the door open for me and as I passed through, he stepped right in behind me and I felt his hand on my lower back, gently guiding me into his living room. I swear I nearly squirted my juices right there!

Mr. Reynolds had be sit on his couch, the same couch where I’d done terribly naughty things with his son. Some of which he’d seen with his own eyes. He told me to get comfortable while he got drinks for us. I seriously considered stripping naked while he was gone. He returned carrying two glasses of soda. He handed me one of the glasses and asked “Diet, right?” I giggled and said, “You remembered.” While he sat down with his own drink, he smiled and told me that I didn’t need diet, I looked just perfect the way I was.

Once we were sitting side-by-side, smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, it was intoxicating. It was a woodsy, musky smell that was perfectly masculine and fit him perfectly. I’d always found his 5 o’clock shadow to be extremely sexy. Sitting there beside him on the couch, I wondered what it would feel like for him to kiss me. I felt my face heat up and the thought and immediately tried to focus on anything else. I sipped on my drink and smiled at him.

There was something about the way he looked into my eyes that made me feel very vulnerable. It was like he knew what I was thinking, like he knew all my secrets. I had the hardest time looking up at him. My eyes kept drifting back down to the drink in my hands. After I’d done that a few times, he gently reached over and set two fingers under my chin to coax me to look at him. I slowly looked up to see him smiling warmly. He told me I didn’t need to be nervous. He went on to tell me that he hoped I would be just as comfortable in his home as I was when Brandon was still there. I smiled escort tuzla and told him thank you.

At those words, Mr. Reynolds’ eyes opened wide. While he stood up, he explained that while he was cleaning up Brandon’s room, he found a backpack that was mine. I cringed, Brandon had told me he’d get rid of it before he left! I knew what was in that backpack and there was no way he could have known it was mine without looking. Oh Gawd! I wanted to disappear! I almost stood up and raced out of the house, but for some reason, I stayed right where I was. Squirming on the sofa, blushing like crazy and waiting for him to return.

He came back into the room carrying my red backpack as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Seeing it in his hands had my heart racing. He sat down beside me, closer than he had before. My left leg was touching his right. He held the backpack on his lap and didn’t say a word for what seemed like eternity.

I couldn’t help but stare at the backpack until I felt his fingers under my chin again. Slowly looking up into his warm brown eyes, I know I was blushing like crazy. In almost a whisper he said, “I wasn’t sure this bag was yours” he paused while holding my gaze, “until I opened it.” I heard myself whimper before I even realized I was making a sound.

The sound of the zipper brought my attention back to the bag. I tried to say something, but all I could do was mumble a little. Biting my lower lip as he held the bag closed but finished unzipping it all the way. I looked up into his eyes, panicking hoping he’d just zip it back up. But, while still looking at me, he spread the flap of the backpack all the way open. I almost cried I was so embarrassed, and worried, and I don’t know! I was freaking out!

He looked down into the bag and told me he was serious about me feeling comfortable in his house even though Brandon was no longer there. He reached in with his hand and pulled out a pair of pink booty shorts that were obviously made for girls. Holding them up as if he were examining them, then laying them neatly on the coffee table in front of us. “Very cute.” Were the only two words he spoke before his hand slipped back into the bag.

This time he withdrew a small stack of panties in a variety of colors. He set the stack on his knee and carefully picked up each pair, looking at each of them before laying them out on display on the coffee table. When all six pair were laid out, he pointed to a soft yellow and white plaid pair with lace around the legs and waist and told me those were his favorites. He then asked which ones were my favorites. I raised my hand and pointed to a pink pair of bikini panties. Even while I was doing it, I couldn’t believe I was telling this grown man which panties I liked to wear the most!

I’d never felt so embarrassed before! And I’d been in embarrassing situations before! This was almost too much. But for whatever reason, my little weenie was throbbing like crazy! And thinking back on it now, I’ll bet Mr. Reynolds knew exactly what that situation was doing to me.

His hand reaching back into the backpack, he came out with one of the items I’d been dreading most, a shiny metal butt plug with a pink jewel embedded on the base. He held it by its base with three fingers, the plug part was pointing straight up. He slowly moved that hand so it was right between our faces. With a teasing look in his eyes, he whispered, “This is a very lucky piece of steel.”

I gasped and felt my little weenie ooze its pre juices. I could feel his warm breath on my face, the plug that had spent so much time in my bottom was a few inches from my nose, and the things he said were driving me crazy. Somewhere along the lines, I’d gone from being insanely embarrassed to being incredibly horny. Or maybe I’d been like that all along. The sexual tension in the room was making it difficult for me to pay attention.

With the plug still between us, he whispered softly. “There is just one thing left in the backpack. Do you remember what it is?” I bit my lip hard and slowly nodded my head.

He gently set the butt plug down on the yellow panties which were his favorites. His hand then returned to the backpack and he slowly pulled out an envelope of pictures from a local drug store. He set the envelope down on my favorite pink bikini panties next to the yellow panties and butt plug. He slowly zipped up the pockets on the backpack and set it on the floor.

For whatever reason I couldn’t make myself move. I could have grabbed that envelope and ran, but I knew he’d already seen everything in there. If I were going to run, I should have done it when he first came out with the backpack! I guess deep down inside me, I wanted to stay. I wanted Mr. Reynolds to know everything. He’d seen me naked before, now he knew some of my deeper secrets.

He turned a little and looked at me. No, he looked through me. “Bailey, I want you to know. That I’ll never tell anyone istanbul escort bayan about any of this. I hope you know that. I’ve never mentioned the ‘conditions’ I’ve seen you in to anyone else. And I promise I won’t start now.”

I whimpered softly, “Thank you.” Biting my lip hard and struggling to look at him.

What happened next still confuses me. I’m not sure who leaned in, or if we both did. But the next thing I knew, my head was tilted to the side and Mr. Reynolds was kissing me. I’m not talking about a good-night bunny-kiss. I’m talking about a full on, kiss! Tongues dancing together, his hand behind my neck, pulling me in close KISS!! Without a doubt, it was the most erotic, passionate kiss of my life.

Eventually the kiss broke and it left me gasping. He leaned in until his lips were close to my ear and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that for an awfully long time.” All I could do was whimper stupidly, “Me too.”

He sat back up and took the envelope of pictures in his hand, flipping it open and pulling out the stack of printed pictures without looking down at them. Then asked how embarrassed I was to have the images printed in a store. I ignored his question, leaned in and tried to kiss him again. But he avoided my lips. I tried to tell him we didn’t need to look at the pictures. But he would have none of it. And I sat back and pouted a little which only seemed to make him happier.

He looked down at the first picture. It showed me posing inside a dressing room in a department store at the mall. I was wearing a slightly see thru pink nightie and nothing else. “So tell me Bailey, does your, um, penis, always get hard when you are dressed like that? Or is it erect because you were almost naked in changing room?” He was definitely trying to embarrass me now. And at that point, what more could I be embarrassed about? He’d already seen the picture and my little weenie. I pulled myself together and managed to whisper “Both, I guess.”

He seemed happy with that and set the picture on my lap. I left it face up, what reason did I have to try and hide it now? He picked up the next one and we both looked at it, I remembered the day clearly. Brandon’s car had broken down and we had borrowed Mr. Reynolds’ Chrysler so we could go to the movies. On the way, I slowly undressed before we were even out of the neighborhood. I scooted down in the seat, not wearing a thing while he drove us to the matinee in the middle of the day. Brandon parked behind the theater, got his phone out and ran around to my side of the car. After opening my door, he snapped a few pictures of me while I rubbed myself and fingered my bottom. That was the picture Mr. Reynolds was looking at now. He held the picture in one hand and slowly ran the index finger of his other hand over my body in the photograph. He didn’t say a word while he set that picture on top of the previous one in my lap.

The next picture was taken at my house. My face wasn’t even visible, but I’m sure Mr. Reynolds knew it was me. I was naked and bent over the dining room table. On my butt cheeks were the bright red imprints of hands. The day that picture was taken was one of the many days I unsuccessfully tried to give my virginity to Brandon. On that particular day, I thought we should try it in my mother’s bed. He went slowly that day, but with only the head of his cock in my bottom, I screamed out in pain and begged him to pull out. Brandon was very understanding. But he thought I deserved a firm spanking for the failed attempt.

All Mr. Reynolds said was, “Naughty girl.” Perhaps I didn’t take it right, but I’m sure he emphasized the word ‘girl’ for my benefit. Brandon used to call me his girl when we were alone. And most times my mother didn’t bother correcting someone if they mistook me for a girl. So I was used to it. Honestly I took it as a compliment.

I really didn’t know what to say while he silently held the picture. The last thing I wanted him to know was how much I enjoyed a firm spanking from time to time. So I kept my mouth shut until he set that third picture on my lap. I asked him if we could please stop looking at pictures. He picked up the stack and thumbed through them, telling me just a few more.

After choosing two of them and holding them face down, he slipped the rest of them back into the envelope. He flipped the first picture over and my mouth fell open. In the picture, I stood naked in my living room except for a pair of panties around one ankle. I was looking particularly desperate while posing for the camera. Just around the corner, not more than 10 feet from where I stood, my mother sat with her back toward me at the kitchen table reading.

“You naughty, naughty girl. What would you have done if your mother would’ve seen you?” There was a sparkle in his eye. He was loving this. He must’ve known how much it embarrassed me to look at that picture with him. Brandon had dared me to do that. He’d teased me most of the day just so I would.

The escort erenköy smile from Mr. Reynolds’ face faded. He looked at me more sternly then he had since I’d arrived. “I asked you a question young lady. What would you have done if your mother would’ve turned her head and seen you so excited in the middle of the living room?”

I suppose I should explain a little about my mother. She has always been pretty overprotective of me. She insists on knowing where I am, when I’ll be back, who I’ll be with, and what we’ll be doing. Even during my senior year, she walked with me through my school hallways dozens of times, always holding my hand to meet with teachers who she believed weren’t treating me fairly. She still insisted on remaining in the doctor’s office during my annual physicals. She was a little shocked to see me without any body hair during that last visit. She still took me shopping for clothes and made me model them all for her. And being the size that I was, I would only fit in boy’s sizes. I finally had to stand up for myself, which I hate to do, to get her to let me try on unisex clothes or even girls pants. They at least fit me! One more thing, my mother stands a few inches taller than me and outweighs me by about 75 pounds. When she gets upset, she tends to frighten me, but deep down I know she loves me very much.

To answer Mr. Reynolds question, I bit my lip again and whispered, “I don’t know what I would have done if she would have seen me. I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“My point exactly. If you are going to run around naked, you have to be careful where you do it. The last thing I want is for you to get into serious trouble. Now if your mother had seen you, I’m sure she would have punished you and you would have deserved it. But that wouldn’t be the kind of trouble I’m talking about. Indecent Exposure can land you in jail! I can’t imagine the things that could happen to you in a place like that.” He paused to let that sink in. I hadn’t really spent much time thinking about the consequences. It was always fun to do and it made me feel really naughty. I knew it was dangerous, but I didn’t realize how dangerous.

He went on to explain, “All that I’m trying to tell you is that you need to find a place where you can expose your cute little self without getting arrested. Do you understand?”

I looked up into his eyes and squeaked, “Yes, I understand. But, um, do you know where I could do it safely?” I lowered my chin a little and batted my eyelashes, while still looking up to see his reaction.

His eyes seemed to sparkle again, he reached over and laid his hand on my thigh, “Bailey, Sweetie, if you ever feel the need to take your clothes off, you can always do it here. It should be pretty obvious that I enjoy seeing you naked. And if you ever want to do it in a more public setting, I’m sure I could think of a safe place.” He then reached into his pocket, pulled out a key and told me I was always welcome in his home. Holding my hands in his, he laid the key in my palm.

I arched my back and leaned in to kiss him again. Our lips met, and the kiss was just as powerful as our first kiss, maybe even more. It made me dizzy and I felt a little light headed. Brandon was a good kisser, but Mr. Reynolds was in a whole different league. I could have kissed him all day long. But it ended all too soon.

“We still have one picture left.” He stated with a little excitement in his voice. Again, he waited while I anxiously sat beside him. He sat there for what seemed like forever without turning the picture over. I finally asked him if he was going to do it or not. Something about having Mr. Reynolds see all these things and know all of these secrets about me just made me feel free. Even more so than I felt with his son.

He turned the picture over and it showed me in my pink thong, I had been kneeling just in front of where Mr. Reynolds was now sitting. Brandon’s legs were on either side of me. I was happily looking up into the camera with my mouth opened wide. On my outstretched tongue, was a large glob of creamy cum.

Mr. Reynolds didn’t speak for a time. We both looked at the picture and up at each other several times, until I finally broke out in the giggles. He waited until I calmed down and then said, “I’m betting you didn’t get a spanking on that day.” That made me giggle all the more. It was so uncomfortable and tense and strange to have all this laid out in front of us. What else could I do but giggle?

He didn’t wait for me to calm down that time. He scooped up all the pictures and tossed them onto the table. Taking me into his arms, he kissed me again. One of his hands holding the back of my neck, the other wandering up and down my body. I looped my arms up and around his neck. My head tilted to the side, breathing heavily and moaning softly into his mouth. We kissed and squirmed together for quite a while until he took one of my legs in his hands and slowly raised it onto his lap. He untied my shoe and slipped it off with my sock, setting them both down on the cushion beside him. My other leg went to his lap next, my shoe and sock were soon resting by their pairs beside him. Slipped his hands under my arms and scooted me onto his lap. Facing away from him, I turned my head so we could keep kissing, but he had other ideas.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The house felt vacant, hollow, and huge after everyone left.

The whole Marco family went one by one for their three-week individual summer trips. The master and his wife, Mr and Mrs Marco—in whose household and care I have the honour to serve for the past several years—took a cruise, though I know for other personal reasons than the usual tour.

“I’ll go wakeboarding, guys—two weeks in Thailand,” Mongo said, the eldest of the kids: sports fanatic, tall and handsome, muscles bulging with tattoos on either shoulders running down both arms like past girlfriends running after him. “I found a fantastic bitch, you know,” he continued, smirking, the lovely Asian teens posted hot and alluring in their thongs in the resort site fresh in his eyes, describing it to me. He’ll beach-bum with his gang, he said, in a secluded spot off the coast of Thailand where he intends to drop his girl also, already sliding away from his mind.

Mongo and I share more than casual secrets, kept hidden from the whole family. Aroused perhaps or out of curiosity, I caught him once peeping inside my room. He was eighteen, at the peak of his macho popularity enjoying the adoration of college girls, ticking them off like discarded playing cards. I was twenty seven—sexy, aware and in full bloom.

Taking my noon break after my chores, I was sure the closed door, though unlocked, was clear enough to show anyone I needed privacy. The weather was hot and I was tired and sleepy. I removed my undies and wore only a short chemise, translucent in its silky, delicate softness.

Comfortable and refreshed, I was tickled by my little indecency, preening in the mirror. The luscious slopes of my breasts half-revealed in the low neckline, my nipples and cone areolas visible, puffy against the light cloth, while the laced hem glided up the delicate smoothness of my inner thighs. I eked out a girlish giggle, elated at my seductive charm, unaware the door was ajar.

I massaged my tired legs and arms with body lotion, preparing for my nap. My drowsiness slowly replaced by a warm, intimate quiver in my flesh as my hands kneaded the smoothness of my knees, caressed higher the glossy silkiness of my thighs—when I noticed Mongo’s face in the mirror peering in, watching me, devouring my sexuality.

“Mongo—you need something?” I said, catching his embarrassment, as I whirled in my seat to face him. My body exposed indecent before his sinful eyes, as my knees locked tight to cover my shaven pussy.

“Jeez—I-I thought—shit!” he said, fumbling for explanation, opening the door fast and closing it after him, standing flat against it. “It’s true what they say—you’re fucking gorgeous, Omma!” he said, hushed, keeping his excitement down. His cock bobbed, struggled hard against his shorts, bigger than I imagined or supposed. A tingle of mischievous pride coursed through my body, shameless in my malicious response—smiling, I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to me, locking the door behind.

I was thrilled by the trembling arousal of the boy, his hands eager to touch my breasts, to slide underneath my legs and play with my pussy. I glided from him backing away and lay in bed provoking his arousals more, opening my legs slightly enjoying his wide-eyed stare. I allowed him to gloat at my succulent flesh, my wet nakedness—I was so aroused I didn’t think of any consequences. I am only an unschooled household help.

I gave Mongo a blowjob after he ate my breasts and fingered my sex, more than delighted to lick and touch my wet pussy, stout and warm in his shaking palm as he exploded in my mouth in our cavorting sixty-nine in bed. Soon, it became our secret sport, sneaking into my room whenever he feels horny and wants quick, satisfying eruptions. In return, I enjoyed his sexual excitement, admiration, and lies, coming to me as my secret lover hidden in the house.

But I did not allow Mongo to fuck me, for reasons we both understood. After all, he has more girlfriends to choose from, and I am not prepared for it yet.

“And your last week?” I heard Rica said, breaking my pleasant, amoral thoughts. The only girl in the brood, she opted for a mountain climb with her friends in the Cordillera. To hone their strength and stamina for the international rock-climbing competition, she told me then, beaming, their college team sponsored by the school. Yet I know Rica plans to enjoy some outdoor fun with her girlfriend, the kid growing into a bouncy, athletic lesbian.

Didn’t Rica knock on my door too? Didn’t the young butch, intrigued of the gossips she heard about me from the other servants, almost begged for lessons in erotic, female to female love play? Didn’t she entice me with her toys, intriguing me and promising to show me how to use and enjoy it?

Of course, I obliged. I have nothing to lose, and the girl at twenty is attractive and sexy. We woke up naked and exhausted each following morning, unable to untangle ourselves from our sweet, delicious embrace—tonguing our wet kisses, exploring our sex escort bostancı with gentle fingers, moaning in excited pleasures as we exploded again and again, her dildo strapped on me. It lasted for us, for no one knew I was Rica’s personal coach—climbing, assaulting, challenging my carnal perversity—her sweet lips and lascivious tongue in my asshole and pussy.

“N.Y.F.B., baby—NYFB!” Mongo said now, almost giving his sister the finger. Then abruptly turned in my direction, winking, our little bitch secret secured like the others.

“C’mon, moron—you’ll bring Jen?” Rica continued, amused, provoking her brother in front of their parents.

“Who’s JEN? Jenna? Jennifer? Jenjen?” Mongo said, clowning, both hands flying in hip hop innocence and surprise, and got hit with a throw pillow fast.

“Wait—what’s that? What’s N…Y…D—?” Mr Teddy Marco said, a CFO for an overseas bank, stopping a pillow fight between the shouts and laughter of his kids. At fifty six, he’d become used to the riots that usually happened when the family plan their vacations. For him, it’s all in the budget, like his intended stopover in Singapore on the way home.

The fuck can’t wait to see the newest casino, a dream of beginner’s luck in the sky park rousing his appetite. These I overheard, with Mr Marco talking on the phone, bragging about his gambling plans. The same way he bragged about his potency, when he burst inside the servants’ bathroom catching me all naked and wet, slippery as spit, gagging me with his erect cock.

True, he was potent, not mucho or macho but close enough. He made me sucked his cock. “Deep throat me, Omma—ooh, ooh!” he whined, ordering me, gripping my head, fucking my face with ravenous delight, inserting the whole length of his cock in my mouth.

For several seconds I sucked, pulled, and gobbled, using all the techniques I learned and tried, his cock stretching harder like a pipe until finally he exploded, full and at the hilt, choking me. “Swallow it, bitch! Swallow my cum! Beg for moo—oohh!—you fucking whore!!” he screamed, his dirty abuse ringing in my ears, hurrying me as his body writhed and convulsed.

We lay in the bathroom floor…Unmindful of our sweat, our saliva, the smell and touch of cum that squirted uncontrolled all over our trembling flesh. The master opened the warm shower—refreshing, washing, falling lightly on our skin as we entangled again, comfortable with our naked selves, fondling me as I stroked his cock once more.

“Only gays can give the best bjs, Omma,” Mr Marco said, hugging me closer to him, caressing my head, shoulders and back, pampering me with temporary affection, admiration, and lust—my delicate fingers tightening around the shaft of his cock.

“Is that true, Sir?” I said, and petted the swollen head with my lips, my tongue pointed, darting in and out fast to lick the slit. Mr Marco moaned, legs kicking out, lifting his crotch from the floor, his hands squeezing, gripping my breasts. He gasped, groaned and squealed like a pig with mouth wide open unable to answer or mumble his filth.

My tongue swirled slow around the crown of his cock, red and engorged inside my mouth. He squirmed, twisted and trembled exploding once more, shuddering hard. I felt feverish, filled with cum and malicious bliss. My decency already ignored, trampled, dissolving in the lewdness of my humiliations, my immoral submissions, all wicked and depraved in my mind’s eyes.

The master came back like the rest, equipped with his sex toys, plastic rings and long rubber tubings. “Shit, Omma—if only every woman is like you—oohh!” he said, writhing, exploding in our slippery, untidy mess. He woke me one late evening and ordered me to masturbate under the breakfast table, lying in the clammy tiles of the kitchen floor—my trembling legs wide open and fastened to the table’s posts—while he used his tools with batteries and little strings.

Mr Marco recognized I was ripe and did not hesitate to claim his rights. I was only an obedient slave to his master, after all. He tied me and gagged my mouth with his brief already moist with our sweat, saliva and cum. My breasts reddish, swollen, held and strapped up high with loops of plastic rings. His rubber tubings coiled tight around my body with my arms and legs fastened and opened apart—the lips of my pussy and the cheeks of my butt spread wide.

The master poked and probed, opening my asshole loose with his slurping tongue and eager lips. Then he inserted his throbbing cock—tearing, pounding, ravaging me without let up. He baptized me in a cock-numbing, cunt-squirting butt fuck –my first and not the last—my asshole tightening harder than my mouth, gripping the bulbous head of his cock, holding his orgasms at bay, which made him buckle and bounce noisily on the floor. Without my gag, I think the whole household would have woken and found us.

“Nevvah-evah-Yearn-Fellah’s-Babe-ah,” Mongo said, looking at me, sticking his tongue out, tickling escort bayan istanbul my senses with another erotic hint—will he come tonight before they leave tomorrow?—fingers rapping in tune. More laughter erupted, pillows raining on him.

“Hey, hey—wait! I asked a question here,” Mr Marco said, faking seriousness.

“That’s ‘None-of-Your-Fucking-Business’, Dad,” Pico said, sniggering, catching the glares of his Dad and Mom. “I mean—that’s what it means, Daddy—ha-ha!” And pandemonium broke loose.

The youngest at twelve and my favourite, Pico camps and treks with his classmates and teachers in a mountain resort in China. An effeminate leaning more towards gay dispositions and practices—how many times did I catch him putting on my lipsticks while wearing a pink wig?—Pico acts as the clown in the family: laughing on the outside. The latest I heard, the boy’s attitude is condoned by his art teachers.

“Watch your tongue, Pico—there’s a lady in da house!” Mongo said, pointing to me with a tilt of his head while I prepared some snacks and drinks, all eyes in my direction at once.

“Omma is not a lady!” Pico shouted running to me, hugging me, tickling me, teasing me. I love the boy like my own.

“Oh, Pico—Omma will poison you soon, you’ll see,” Mrs Flora Marco said, shaking her head, ruffling her son’s hair as everybody laughed. Flory to her fellow dermatologists and still attractive in her early fifties, she insisted on a cruise intrigued by the lavish ballroom parties. Of course, the handsome and beautiful D.I.s presented to the guests are always a remarkable collection available for all sexes. And with Mr Marco glued in the casino, the old lady can have her ways, her secret bi-ways. This, I am privy, too, as Mrs Marco often confided to me, sharing a lot of her sexual wishes and activities.

Yes, I was not exempted from Flory’s sexual needs. The woman actually likes me, admires me, covets my youthful looks. And because she was instrumental in my growth and confidence as a woman—guiding, soothing, assuring my personal doubts—I always obliged. I kept my little secrets safe this way, since each one except the youngest, Pico, were all involved in our sexual family escapades.

Flory would come to my room unannounced when she’s feeling ugly and old, desperate of her advancing years no cosmetics or surgery can cover or avoid. We would undress; shave our pussy before we rub our favourite scented oils on each other, slowly building the heat of our arousals for whoever man or woman interested us both, identities hidden, giggled fantasies unspoken, remaining untold.

And then we fucked. I strapped on her glass dildo, straddling her while she ate my breasts, fingered my sex, as I mashed and squeezed hers, too, until we both collapsed on my bed, suppressing our screams and delirious agonies until our depravities subside in the early mornings. That way, my benefactor and friend, Mrs Flory Marco, remained happy and at ease while my secrets stayed safe.

With everybody gone for three weeks, and all the important responsibilities dumped in my care as the official housekeeper, I’d be alone in the house. I require no compulsory services of the other servants and caretakers. I can manage by myself, and if I need any of them, each one is a phone call away.

Thus, with kisses of goodbyes and “take cares” smothering me, the family left in a rush—school kids out for recess. “Goodbye, Omma—we’ll see you soon!” said Mrs Marco, hugging me, kissing my cheeks before handing me the keys, the couple, the last to leave.

Omma, an endearing mispronunciation of Mongo at two years old, unable to say my real name, Roman, and got stuck. After more than thirty years, the name filled and flowered with sincerity and love, an honest acceptance of everyone for what I am—a homosexual at birth—adopting the name and staying here longer than I planned or thought I could endure. After all, I was only eight when my parents sold me as domestic help…One less mouth to feed in our family of thirteen kids.

Alone to contemplate my future in the near cavernous silence of the quaint villa, I welcomed with excited restlessness the recurring desires and past experiences coming so vivid and private during the summer months: My dirty little escapades, treasured and kept intact, spicing my uneventful life somehow.

Uneducated, with only the ability of a Prep School kid to read or write, and without social grace or special skills to balance my disadvantages except for the unusual provocative allure my body acquired, I acknowledged with shame and secrecy my physical abnormalities. Though feeling distraught and confused, I accepted my continuing transformation, adapting everything like my new name.

Yet I became conscious, more than embarrassed. My breasts swelled when aroused, the nipples stretching hard, aching with a desire to be touched, to be milked, squeezed and sucked. But what surprised me most was the ticklish sensation of wetness spreading escort beykoz warm inside and around my pubic mound, awakening sensual urges new and exciting to me—a yearning to be fucked.

I discovered quite late I was born a hermaphrodite, as Mrs Marco disclosed, with me even unable to pronounce or spell the word. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Omma—you’re so unique!” the woman said, gushing with admiration at my slender built and silken flesh. “You’re delicately attractive and girls your age will surely die for your unblemished, soft skin.”

At eighteen, my breasts blossomed, already full like a woman, with wide cone areolas and long nipples. My waist, small and supple, curves along my generous hips and butt, sliding down the length of my smooth, hairless, shapely legs. While my male genitals developed more like a cunt: My pubic mound a cupped hand where my tiny prick receded, behaving like a large clit enclosed in the folds of the foreskin and embedded deep within the velvety cheeks of my hollow balls forming stout luscious lips. Sensitive and ticklish, my sex becomes moist and profusely wet, especially, when I’m wearing a dress and ogled and gawked at by men.

The gardener, on an excuse asking for a glass of water, groped between my legs early on. The driver displayed an erection protruding in his pants each time the brute catches me alone. And the cook enticed me with pastries while the old man ogled the swells of my breasts. Each man and those like them provided me life lessons I nibbled quick and spat out, more concerned in keeping my decency and pride intact, yet treasuring my pleasures that remained unforgettable even now.

“Come often, Omma…eat my delicious cakes,” the cook said, giving me a small plate. His eyes glued in front of my delicate blouse, my breasts bobbing and bloated, restrained only in my low-cut bra. “Look, your tits will grow bigger and more beautiful,” the old man whispered, excited. His warm breath caressed my ears while his eyes licked the soft swells of my breasts, my nipples titillated and aroused, unmistakable in my flimsy top.

For who else would buy my seductive clothes but Mrs Marco? All my sexy lingerie, nighties, and revealing dresses handpicked and given by the woman thrilled to shop for me, exhilarated when I wore a stylish, expensive dress for the first time.

“Oh, you’re lovely, Omma—you look gorgeous! How I wish I have your tits!” Mrs Marco said, as I pranced and pirouetted, giggling in front of the mirror, already a woman.

Tits, though I heard it often from the gardener, the driver, and the cook every chance they got to corner me, I tried to ignore it. A gentle tremor so perverse wakens in my flesh each time I remember the look in their greedy eyes—devouring, undressing, molesting my feminine reality—sending ripples of excitement from my nipples way down deep my inner thighs. My breasts ached, tight and swollen, while my sex felt on fire, moist and slippery, burning with an itch my fingers cannot reach or satisfy.

Until one afternoon without cause or reason, the cook grabbed me and squeezed my breasts. The tingling pleasures of his touch electrified me, shocked my senses as I reeled disoriented, unprepared for the peculiar sensation quivering in my flesh. He fondled my tits, eyes wild and excited—mashing, kneading the luscious yielding roundness. I screamed in silent revulsion of my desecration, and ran away from him.

My whole body trembled as I hurried in tears for the privacy of my room—angry, disgusted, and irritated with myself—I cannot understand what I felt and why I did not resist. Why did I allow him to fondle my breasts, to grope free inside my blouse? Oh, how long did his hands enjoy touching me, stroking my breasts?

The immorality of his indecency wriggled in my sleep even as I prayed, stirring forbidden scenes of sinful acts I dared not dream or imagine. His stout warm hands came anxious and alive once more—cupping the roundness of my breasts from below, stroking slow the smoothness upwards removing my bra—baring the luscious ripeness, titillating my flesh. Goose bumps crawled and bristled all over my body. I felt a delicious tingle kicked in my sex, squirting my pleasures as his fingers teased my puffy areolas, squeezing, stretching the nipples—his unclean desires enfolding, fondling my breasts, uncontrolled.

The lewdness of the thrill pressed down on me, crushed my body while I lay excited restless in bed. The erotic recollection of his hands squashing my breasts—oohh!—more than alive as I groped and touched myself.

Yet to my surprise, it shredded away my inhibitions and taboos, absorbed my anger, my indignation and fears. My whole being overwhelmed and dumbfounded—quivering, craving for the joy of human intimacy, of male strength, dominance, and passion that made me embrace, relish, and understand more a woman’s delicate, vulnerable beauty—and came back, without hesitation, for more.

The gardener no longer made an excuse to slide his hands between my legs and fondle my arousal, stroking the smoothness within, pushing higher and higher as I squeezed my thighs together hoping to stop him…Yet letting go with a squirm when he touched the wetness of my panties, caressed the soft delicate lips of my sex, spreading wide my legs to let him in with a shudder and a bitten, muted scream.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The house was built on a rise, and the garden sloped gently down to the banks of the Hunter River. Willows and reeds lined the shore, and a few ducks busied themselves feeding in the water occasionally turning their tails up, as they lowered their beaks to the muddy bottom. I looked behind me. The house was impressive, a fine Georgian style home with 15 rooms, not counting bathrooms or laundry.

It was very pleasant, but so were a lot of other houses. What I needed if I was going to decide to buy this one was some sort of extra inducement. Wild salmon or trout in the river, a healthy artistically inclined community. I needed something more than just a nice building in a convenient location to make any house grab me.

The pavilion was set down near the river to the left of the parklike grounds. So that from the house it was a pretty structure on one side, and on the other was a collection of Japanese maples, which would glow with shades of red and orange in the right season. They formed a picture, the sloping green lawn with darker old pines at the sides of it, and at the end, the river, and sitting just in front of it on the left was the white, French inspired pavilion.

The pavilion created a romantic effect with its pointed roof and high round topped window, opening out as they were now, their fine curtains catching in the breeze and drifting out of them occasionally, adding to the lightness and romance of it. And to the right of the vista, in the right season, would be the blaze of crimson from the Japanese maples. A bit lairy for my tastes, but still effective I imagined. It was summer now and the trees were not at their finest.

I wandered down to the pavilion for a closer look. It was octagonal, with a tall wide curved topped French window set in each of it’s sides, and today those on the sides facing the river and the park were open. I stepped up into the cool dimness of the interior. Pleasant, I thought.

But for some reason it was furnished in Balinese carved teak furniture, the busyness and darkness of the timber at odds with the lightness and fragility of the pavilion itself. To one side was a canopied day bed, its three sides intricately carved, the cushions though cream and soft looking and the muslin curtains matching the fabric framing the tall glass windows. Two lounges escort kartal cushioned in the same cream fabric faced each other across a full sized ‘opium bed’ coffee table.

And to the side a small marble topped Dutch Indonesian reproduction table stood with two matching chairs. Again cushioned in cream. An ancient willow patterned tureen stood on top of it filled with overblown blossoms, the petals falling artistically on the marble.

The only interior decoration that really appealed to me was the young man sleeping naked on the day bed. I had been encouraged to wander down this way by the real estate agent, Rosemary, who had implied I might find something here to help encourage me to buy the house.

If the dark haired young man was meant to induce me, well he was certainly appealing to me in the right way now. And he was definitely causing a reaction.

His back was towards me and his firm rounded butt, and full muscular thighs, were right there in front of me as I stepped up to the bed.

I bent and kissed each firm round cheek and ran my tongue over them, he tasted fresh, just a hint of salt on a warm day.

I ran a hand up over his thigh and along his side to the hidden head, nestled in a pillow cradled in his arms up in the far corner, where the day bed’s side and back met. I ran my hand back down to the glossy hair on the back of his thighs and then slipped my fingers between his thighs.

He moved languidly and made little muttering noises as if he was deeply asleep. I slipped my fingers out and was excited by his game. I bent and nibbled and licked his butt cheeks again. Then I continued on, up his muscular back as he moaned, and moved slightly, as if to escape me.

He was a very good actor I decided. I was leaning over him now and ran my free hand over his hip and down into the hidden mass of his pubic hair, feeling his thick but still soft cock, and his balls hanging loosely across his lower thigh.. The pubic hair was thick, and his cock was already filling out under my exploring hand. Reasonable, I thought, as he moaned in his pretend sleep. I continued to stroke his dick playing with his cap and the slit, just enjoying the feeling of him stiffening. I was sitting on the edge of the bed now, and my other hand couldn’t bayan escort help moving between his cheeks. I stroked a finger across his hidden entrance. He twitched and seemed to jerk, as if waking suddenly, and then he was pulling his legs away and throwing an arm wildly back at me.

“Hey,” he cried, “Who are you?” as he crawled away, across the bed.

I grabbed at his hips and pulled him back to me, as he pretended to escape. Now I knelt on the bed straddling his upper thighs, just below his butt, and gripped him tight between my knees. One hand planted itself in between his shoulder blades and I leant half my weight there, pinning him down. He stopped struggling as I licked two fingers, and he began moaning as I played them over his hole and pressed into it.

“Who are you?” he suddenly asked again.

“You’re a god actor,” I said and leant into him. “Give me a kiss.”

The first part of one finger took the first small step to the coming fuck, by passing through his puckered rim. And he turned his face to the side and let his lips meet mine. When our lips finally parted that finger, and the other, were both buried inside him, to the limit. He had gasped and tried to twist away at first as I moved them in and twisted them inside him, but I had held him fast. Now he was moaning in pleasure. Begging for more.

I let him lift his arse then, and he pushed it back to me and spread his thighs further apart. I removed my fingers and kneeling on the bed between his spread thighs bent my head to lick him, as one hand went under and found his flapping, dripping rod and stroked that. I was using the pre cum to lubricate the helmet with my thumb, while my other hand tugged and rolled his balls. He came in shuddering bursts, spilling his cream out in long arcs over the cream covered bed.

I returned my fingers to his passage. He moaned and I soon had worked in two from each hand, set at each side, pulling and spreading him so my tongue flicked in and out of the open entrance.

He hissed, “Yes. Oh yes,” and arched back to me.

He reached back between his legs for my hard cock. I rolled him over then and he lifted one leg wide and planted the foot high up on one of the beds corner posts. The other he rested on my shoulder. I could see the dark escort maltepe pools of his eyes in the curtained dimness at the back of the bed, and saw his hands were white knuckled, gripping the carved wood of the back of the day bed frame.

He was still tight, but I worked my cock in a couple of inches and twisted it. He arched his back, opening fractionally and I was in another inch. Pleased with his hissed cries of strain at taking me. I ran my hand up and down his arched torso rolling his hard nipples between finger and thumb, rubbing his belly to relax him, then forcing my way in as he cried out, “Yes. Yes.”

I took hold of his hips and moved up higher on the bed and moved to the side, not losing my place inside him as I turned him. He had known exactly what to do and now had his legs wide with each foot resting against a corner post as I knelt between his thighs fucking down into him, watching his face, and playing with his body. He still gripped the back of the day bed with one hand, the other gripping the side of it as he worked his arse back and forth in opposition to my fucking cock. And he cried out with pain and pleasure as I rode him and he vigorously joined the ride

I came deep inside him, spilling several bursts into his channel, filling him and stroking his heaving belly as if easing the cum deeper into him. He wrapped his legs around me holding me there, sweat now glistening on both our bodies as our breathing settled.

“So who are you?” he asked again.

“The one you are supposed to be encouraging to buy this place,” I replied smiling.

As if he didn’t already know. I was happy feeling his dick filling again under my stroking fingers, and filled and played his leaking slit with the tip of my little finger.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You know that? I knew Kyle was trying to sell this place, but there’s no reason for me to try to induce you to buy it.”

“Sure,” I said. “Anyway, what’s the deal, do you come with the house?” I asked, smiling at him, because he was tempting me. .

He laughed, and began to massage my dick with his arse.

“And if I did? Would that really induce you to buy it?” he asked.

I paused, looking down at him. “You, I want,” I said, feeling my cock reloading inside him. “The house? Well there are lots of houses,” I had no idea what I wanted except another round with his passage.

“True,” he said, “But my house is right on the other side of the river from this one,” he added, looking up at me, smiling with lust filed eyes and arching his back and reaching to push my t shirt off, as I grew inside him.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I’d struck out again. It was Friday night and after happy hour with some friends from work, I’d gone to a local club in search of hooking up with a cutie. As had become my fate lately, I had no takers and was gonna be left to feed the hog alone again. I’m a decent looking guy, with a good job, and what I’d always considered to be an OK personality, but my luck with the ladies had been miserable for several months.

On my way home, I pulled into the local filling station, to get some gas and pick up a couple of girlie magazines for my late night stroke session. Fong’s Filling Station was open 24 hours and the small convenience store had a serious selection of adult magazines to help fuel the imagination of a chronic masturbator like me. As usual, it was Mr. Fong himself behind the counter. I swear, I think the guy never sleeps cause I can’t remember ever stopping in when he wasn’t the one running the cash register.

The store was small, but next to the checkout counter was an even smaller area closed off by a curtain. Behind that curtain was my destiny for the night, a display full of porn magazines ranging from the mainstream (Playboy), to the vulgar (Club and Hustler), to the bizarre (Juggs and Backdoor Babes), to the alternative. While my car was filling up, I stepped behind the curtain to browse the selection.

I always felt a little self conscious browsing the dirty magazines with Mr. Fong sitting on his raised stool just a few feet away, but I’d had a couple of cocktails tonight and was in the mood for something different, so I thumbed through several before making my selection. It was nearly 2am and the place was completely empty, so I wasn’t in any hurry to grab and dash before someone I knew recognized me as the creepy pervert that I really was.

I even picked up a couple of the gay mags, flipping through the pages, as always mesmerized by the hung cocks on the male models. I always considered myself 100% heterosexual, but something about seeing a guy’s big dick always fascinated me. Even when watching straight porn I often found myself drawn as much to the male performers’ anatomy as the sexy little sluts that were getting banged.

Having made my selection, I dropped the mags on the counter along with my credit card. “Evening. Pump 6 please.”

“No luck tonight, ehh Mr.?” Fong chuckled. “You need bottle lotion, too?”

Everybody’s a fucking comedian, I thought to myself. Fong was easily in his late 50s, skinny as a rail, maybe 5’5″ tall with a greasy head of messy black hair and a case of decades old acne. As usual, he had on his dirty mechanics shirt with his name stenciled on the front pocket.

As he was ringing up my sale, he continued, “Maybe you playing wrong team? I see you looking at gay pictures. You have more luck if you go after dick, maybe?”

My first thought was to punch this old fart in the nose, but he had caught me red handed looking at the gay magazines. “Very funny, but I’m just on a cold streak.”

“Sure, whatever you say. But you do have a nice big mouth, just the kind Fong like to fuck.”

That hit me across the jaw like a big upper cut and I had no response. Was this dirty old guy making a move on me? I didn’t have long to wait before finding out.

He pushed his stool back from the counter and stood up. Fong was wearing a pair of thin grey sweatpants that did next to nothing to hide the unmistakable outline of his semi-erect penis. To add to the visual, a huge wet spot was clearly visible several inches down his leg where his prick had been leaking. For such a small guy, his cock looked humongous.

I reached for my magazines and my credit card, intending to get the hell out there. But something kept my feet glued to the spot and my eyes fixated on his impressive bulge.

“Don’t be shy boy,” Fong continued. “I keep your secret. You just closet cocksucker. Nobody else here. I give you what you need.”

I can’t explain why I was still standing there and why I couldn’t take my eyes off his big package. It was like I was in a trance.

“Come behind counter, boy. I feed you good.”

My mind was saying run, but my feet wouldn’t listen. I did as instructed and found myself standing directly in front of Mr. Fong.

“Fong insist his cocksuckers are naked,” he commanded. “Undress now and get on knees.”

Unbelievably, I did exactly that. I took off all my clothes and piled them in the corner, before falling to my knees, my face now only inches from his pulsating crotch. My mind raced as I realized I was completely nude in this man’s store, submitting sexually in a way I had never imagined. My cock was harder than I could ever remember it.

“Kiss it,” he directed.

Through his flimsy sweatpants, I kissed the bulbous outline of his knob, tasting the salty precum seeping through his pants. I heard myself let out a moan from deep in my gut.

“Yes, you make good cocksucker. You need it bad,” he escort ümraniye said. “Now pull down pants and free Fong’s dong.”

He giggled, obviously pleased with his dime store poetry. This guy was anything but a smooth operator, but his huge member was close to the sexiest thing I’d ever encountered.

As I pulled the elastic waist down, his still hardening tool popped free and whacked my chin. “Don’t just stare, get to work,” he demanded.

Tentatively, I licked his thick purple cockhead, still partially engulfed in his uncut helmet. His crotch had a musky smell, as if he hadn’t showered in several days. While his tool wasn’t massively long, probably close to 8″, it was ridiculously thick and fleshy, contrasting greatly with his skinny body. As I swirled my tongue around my first cock and took the first couple of inches into my virgin mouth, stretching my jaw to it’s limits, I was struck by how obscene his amazing cock looked sticking out from his frail body. This was the cock of a warrior attached to the body of a weakling.

“Ahhhhh,” Fong groaned. “You big mouth perfect for Fong dick. You watch teeth,” he demanded as he gave my face a hard slap.

While he had a dark patch of black hair above his tool, his balls and cock were completely smooth. His nuts were equally impressive and hung very low in his loose sack. He was the epitome of the expression “hung like a horse.”

He roughly grabbed the back of my head and forced what I thought was an impossible number of inches into my mouth till his fat gland pushed against the back of my throat. I started to gag and reached up to push him away.

“No hand boy,” he growled. “Put behind back, now.”

As I did, Fong reached under the counter and pulled out a pair of regulation hand cuffs.

“Keep these in case of robbers,” he laughed. “I shoot fuckers in gut with my 357 then cuff and watch as they squirm in pain. But work good for training cocksuckers too.”

He locked my wrists behind my back, effectively putting me completely at his mercy. “Don’t worry faggot boy, I train you to take cock like a pro.”

As he again began his assault on my throat, I was thankful that his fat schlong had a slight downward curve. He was now rock hard, but rather than bending to one side or the other, his boner bent down slightly, which appeared to be the perfect shape for deeply penetrating a cocksucker’s throat.

I fought to breath through my nose and resist my gag reflex as he inched his way down my throat. I had read somewhere that to deepthroat a cock, you had to act like you were literally swallowing it, so I swallowed hard and his rod was actually inhaled down my throat. I felt my neck bulge and my pharynx stretch to accept his girth. After several minutes of this constant onslaught, I felt his pubes tickling my nose and his hanging balls bang against my chin.

“You fucking pro now, boy,” Fong announced. “You take all Fong have to offer.”

He slowly withdrew and then thrust forward, bottoming out again. This was repeated over and over till he was fucking my throat like a pussy. Lucky for me, his prick continued to secrete a steady flow of precum, keeping my throat lubed for his ferocious attack.

Suddenly Fong stopped pumping my throat, leaving his tool buried deep.

Ding, ding. Shit, somebody had just entered the store. I was hidden from view under the counter, but I still felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed.

“Hi Mr. Fong,” a sexy girl’s voice echoed through the store. “Just this bottled water please.” I recognized the voice as the college daughter of one of my neighbors. I’d seen her at the club earlier with some of her girlfriends.

“No fun for you tonight, huh?” she giggled as he gave her change, obviously a little buzzed. “All work and no play makes Mr. Fong a dull boy.”

“I have plenty fun, Suzy,” Fong said, as he gave a little hip thrust and poked the back of my throat. Not being ready for this sudden movement, I gagged loudly.

“What was that?” Suzy exclaimed.

“Just my cocksucker learning his new skill,” Fong laughed. “Take look.”

I saw Suzy’s cute blonde hair fall over the counter as she leaned across to see what Fong was talking about. Here I was face to face with this gorgeous coed, naked, on my knees, handcuffed with Fong’s wicked shaft buried down my throat.”

“Holy shit. I didn’t know Mr. Simpson was gay. Hi Mr. Simpson, I thought I saw you dancing with some cute girls tonight at the club?”

I wanted to shout, “I’m not gay”….but with Fong’s huge rod buried down my throat I couldn’t even muster a whisper. Besides, trying to deny the accusation while I had a male organ inserted in my throat was kinda a lost cause.

“Simpson damn good cocksucker. His big horsemouth just what Fong needed. He take it like pro,” Fong grunted as he returned to his steady throat fucking. “You want watch escort istanbul me feed this faggot?”

“Hell yes,” Suzy squealed. “Let me go get my girlfriend in the car. Rachel will never believe this.”

Within seconds, Suzy returned with her friend. I recognized her immediately as one of the girls I’d been shot down by earlier in the evening. She was a beautiful redhead, with emerald green eyes and a body made for fantasies. She was way out of my league, but I’d given it a shot anyway.

“Suzy, this guy was hitting on me earlier tonight. Guess I didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“He switch teams,” Fong interjected. “He no good with girls, so he now my little bitch.”

“Wow, he’s got a bottomless throat. No way I could take all that cock, Mr. Fong,” Suzy said. “I had no idea you were so big.”

The girls went on giggling and commenting on my skills as I doubled my efforts to get Fong off. He had incredible stamina and my jaw ached painfully. Tears were running down my cheeks as my eyes were watering uncontrollably.

“Look how hard his weenie is,” Suzy’s girlfriend commented, pointing at my throbbing boner. “It’s dripping so much, he left a pool of spooge on the floor.”

“I think Mr. Simpson likes giving head as much as Mr. Fong likes getting it,” Suzy snickered.

“Oh, I like fucking his mouth,” Mr. Fong replied. “Too bad he not pretty like you girls.”

With that comment, Suzy reached into her purse and pulled out a lipstick. “I can make him prettier for you,” she giggled.

“You funny girl,” Fong commented as he pulled his tool from my tortured jaw long enough for Suzy to apply a thick coat of ruby red to my lips.

“Open wide my pretty bitch,” Fong snarled as he drove his boner back into my throat.

The humiliation was almost unbearable, yet I couldn’t wait to swallow Fong’s creamy load.

Suzy jumped up on the checkout counter and pulled up her short skirt. Her skimpy pink panties had a huge wet spot. “This is so fucking hot,” she squealed as she started fingering her pussy through her panties. “I’ve got another idea how to make Mr. Simpson even prettier.”

She peeled off her pink panties and dangled them in my face, the smell of her pussy juice driving me crazy as I continued to deepthroat Fong.

“How about putting my panties on him?” Suzy quipped.

“You nasty girl,” Fong laughed. “Stand up bitch, Suzy put panties on my cocksucker. Keep his dirty seed from dripping on my floor.”

I did as instructed and Suzy pulled her panties up and over my raging cock. They were very tight and the thin material was sucked deeply into my ass crack. My boner tented the front of the panties lewdly, my own dripping precum now mingling with Suzy’s already soaked pussy juices. The silky panties felt awesome against my skin.

Fong put his hand on my head and forced me back to my knees where he again began to feed me his cock.

“Finish job, bitch,” he commanded. “Show Fong what a good little slut you are.”

Suzy pulled out her smartphone and started snapping photos of me sucking off Fong. I had no idea what she was going to do with the pics, but at this point, I was in no position to argue.

“Yes, take pictures. Can e-mail me later, please. Will go nicely with my video.” He pointed to the TV screen on the counter and I realized my cocksucking exhibition was being recorded by his security system. I was in deep shit. Fong had me over a barrel; looked like I was going to stay at his mercy.

“I’m sure Simpson not want these pictures to get posted on internet. He be my personal btich, now, huh fagboy?”

I assumed the question was rhetorical, so I didn’t try to answer, knowing my fate was completely in his hands.

Suzy jumped back up on the counter and her friend crouched down next to me, her head between Suzy’s legs, staring straight into her now bare twat. With a flick of her tongue, she made Suzy moan with pleasure.

“Watching Simpson suck cock make you girls horny, heh?” Fong chuckled.

Suzy lovingly grasped her friend’s head and started to grind her pussy against the smoking hot redheads tongue. The store was filed with the sound and smells of sex as the two of us performed oral sex side by side, me on Fong and Rachel on Suzy.

Between moans of pleasure, Suzy asked, “So are you gonna fuck your new bitch, Mr. Fong?”

“I save his ass for later,” Fong laughed. “He my bitch now and I take my time training him.”

I knew my virgin ass could never accommodate his massive girth, but at the moment, the thought of getting bent over and submitting my hole to this stud of a man made me squirm with anticipation.

Suzy began to pant furiously, and I knew the tongue fucking she was getting had her close to orgasm. She squeezed her thighs around the redhead’s face and with a mighty groan screamed, “God, I’m fucking cummingggggggggggggg!”

The hot action escort göztepe between the girls had a positive effect on Fong as I felt him tense and if possible, his thick tool actually grew bigger. He was on the brink. My arms had been restrained for some period of time and were aching painfully, as was my jaw and throat. I was thankful that this experience was nearing an end, and equally happy that I would soon be getting fed his salty load.

“I cum too,” Fong announced as he pulled my head roughly forward, burying every last inch of his tool down my throat. My nose was pressed against his pelvis as I felt the first jets of his cream spurting down my throat. He slowly pulled his rod out, shooting jizz first into my mouth and finally erupting the last few torrents on my face.

The girls began clapping, “That was cool, Mr. Fong. His face is covered in your cum, and look how he’s trying to slurp those big, thick ropes off his chin and upper lip. You are a cum hungry pig, huh Mr. Simpson?”

I could only hang my head in shame. It was true, I was a cum hungry pig. I was smacking my lips and trying to taste every last drop of Mr. Fong’s jizz.

“Answer the pretty girls,” Fong insisted as he slapped my face with his big fleshy member, big thick drops of spunk still oozing from his piss hole.

“Yes, I’m a hungry cum-pig,” I admitted. Never thought those words would be escaping my mouth.

Fong reinserted his now deflating dick back into my mouth, “Clean me whore.”

I eagerly sucked and nursed on his softening cock, getting several more dollops of tasty cream as a reward. Fong must have cum a gallon, but I was still hungry for more.

“That was so fucking nasty,” Suzy announced as she pulled down her skimpy skirt. “I’ve never seen anything so hot.”

She jumped down off the counter and grabbed her girlfriends hand. “Come on sweety, let’s head back to my place and I’ll return the favor.”

“You want panties back?” Fong asked.

“Keep them,” Suzy replied. “You’ll probably want Mr. Simpson to wear them next time. Hope you invite us to Mr. Simpson’s cherry popping ceremony.”

“Good idea, and I will,” Fong chuckled as he reached for a keychain hanging by the cash register and thankfully unlocked my aching wrists. Standing up, I was woozy, my legs completely unstable from being on my knees for so long on the hard concrete floor. “Give me panties, bitch.”

“Get out now,” Fong demanded as he picked up my clothes and tossed them out the door into the parking lot.

I scurried out and scanned the area. Luckily it was late at night and nobody was around. I grabbed my clothes and sprinted to my car.

Fong opened the store door and tossed my porn magazines at me, “You probably still need, huh bitch? I know you be fantasizing about sucking my dick when you jerking off.”

As I reached my car, the horn beeped. Fuck, I’d forgotten my keys in the store. I turned to see Fong standing at the glass door, dangling my keys. He’d just locked my car and was now laughing at me.

The intercom system crackled alive, “You forget keys, heh, cocksucker?”

As I looked up to the intercom, I noticed the TV screens over the gas pumps were running a video loop from the closed circuit security camera. There I was, naked, on my knees, deepthroating a thick cock, a look of pure lust in my eyes. He wasn’t letting me off easy. This sadistic bastard was loving every second of my discomfort.

“Come get keys, boy,” he laughed.

I started to pull on my pants, but the intercom blurted, “No, leave clothes and come naked.”

I jogged back to the store, my still rock hard dick bouncing wildly. I pushed on the big glass door, but it didn’t budge. The old fucker had locked me out.

“You jerk off now bitch,” he yelled through the door, “Then I give you back keys.”

I didn’t have much of an option, besides, as hardup as I was, it would only take a couple of strokes to blow my load. I grabbed my boner and started to jerk, standing only a couple of feet from Mr. Wong, but separated by the thick security glass.

Fong pulled down his sweatpants, revealing his still obscenely large dong. He thrust his hips forward and his huge cock was smashed against the glass. “Shoot load on my cock, boy.”

Damn, I think I actually started to drool seeing his big schlong again. With one more stroke, I exploded, coating the glass door in jet after sticky jet of hot man seed.

“Get on knees and clean my door with your tongue, you slutty cumeater.”

I was still completely at his mercy, and I did as instructed, licking my own cum from the glass, my tongue less than one inch from his thick member.

“You a nasty cocksucker,” Fong chuckled as he pushed my keys through the mail slot. “Damn glad you Fong’s new cocksucking bitch”

I grabbed my keys and sprinted back to the car. As I was opening the door, the intercom buzzed on again, “See you next Friday, same time. You not disappoint me, heh slut?”

Fong owned my ass and I only hoped he didn’t intend to share those videos with anybody else. The only thing I had in my control was being here next Friday to submit again to Fong’s dirty mind. As I started the car I realized I was already looking forward to next week.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32