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Vorwort

Auf Grund der vielen Zusprüche in euren Mails habe ich mich entschlossen, auch diese Geschichte zu veröffentlichen. Bitte, bitte, bitte habt etwas Nachsicht mit mir. Eure Mails werden garantiert noch alle beantwortet, sobald ich dazu komme. Ich werde auch darüber nachdenken, wie ich die FKK-Serie vortsetzen kann, wie es sich viele wünschten. Bitte habt noch etwas Geduld und mailt mir gerne weiter eure Gedanken. Ich freue mich über jede Kritik.(am meisten über Positve. 😉 ) Ich habe mich auch bemüht die Rechtschreibfehler soweit wie möglich zu vermeiden.

eure Moni

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Lehrstunden bei der Mutter

Ziellos irrte ich durch die Straßen. Es schien zwar die Sonne, aber für mich war es ein absoluter Scheißtag.

Heute war Samstag und ich wollte einem Kumpel beim Autoschrauben helfen. Es waren aber nicht alle Ersatzteile da, und so waren wir um einiges früher fertig als geplant. Ich fuhr also eher als gedacht nach Hause, holte unterwegs noch ein paar Blumen und wollte meine Freundin Marja damit überraschen.

Mit neunzehn Jahren bin ich von zu Hause ausgezogen und kurz danach zog auch Marja zu mir. Nun wohnten wir schon fast zwei Jahre zusammen. Die Wohnung hatte ich von meiner Großmutter geerbt und sparte somit die Miete.

Beschwingt lief ich die Treppe herauf und öffnete leise die Wohnungstür. Als ich in den Flur trat, hörte ich eigenartige Geräusche aus dem Schlafzimmer. Was war denn das? Marja stöhnte laut und unser Bett knarrte leise in einem bestimmten Rhythmus.

Ich schlich an die angelehnte Schlafzimmertür, als ich Marja reden hörte. „Ah, fester Klaus. Machs mir richtig doll. Ich komme gleich.”

Mir wurde abwechselnd heiß und kalt. Was sollte ich denn davon halten? Marja vögelte mit einem ominösen Klaus in unserem Bett. Vorsichtig öffnete ich die Tür ein Stückchen mehr und traute meinen Augen nicht.

Marja lag auf dem Bett. Ein Typ lag auf ihr drauf und fickte sie wie verrückt.

Plötzlich schrie Marja auf und bekam einen Orgasmus. Auch der Typ spritzte ihr die ganze Pflaume voll.

Ich stand da, wie vom Donner gerührt, unfähig einen klaren Gedanken zu fassen. Die beiden hatten mich noch nicht bemerkt, fielen nun auseinander und lagen geschafft auf dem Bett.

Dann sagte Marja, als der Kerl wohl wieder an ihrer Spalte spielte: „Nicht mehr Klaus. Hör auf. Dirk kommt bald wieder nach Hause. Dann musst du verschwunden sein. Nicht dass er uns noch auf dem letzten Drücker erwischt.”

Ich wollte die Tür eigentlich ganz aufreißen und dem Typen meine Faust ins Gesicht drücken, stand aber immer noch wie festgewachsen da, als er ihr antwortete: „Ich weiß, aber es ist schwer aufzuhören. Gott sei dank ist es in spätestens zwei Wochen vorbei. Dann kann ich endlich in meine neue Wohnung einziehen. Da sind wir immer ungestört. Da kannst du auch bleiben, wenn du willst. Meine Eltern sind auch schon ganz froh, dass ich dann bei ihnen raus bin.”

Eine Welt brach für mich zusammen. Meine heiß geliebte Freundin betrog mich und wollte sogar weg von mir. Noch zwei Wochen wollte sie die liebe Frau spielen und mit dem Kerl heimlich vögeln. Wie lange mochte das schon gehen?

Seit ungefähr einem halben Jahr, war unser Sexleben auf dem untersten Niveau. Ich durfte höchstens mal alle zwei bis drei Wochen ran. Sie hätte Unterleibsprobleme, hat sie mir erzählt. Und ich blödes Arschloch glaubte ihr auch noch und hatte Verständnis für sie.

Klar hatte sie Unterleibsprobleme. Es steckte ja wohl ständig der andere Schwanz in ihr. Da konnte nun mal kein Platz mehr für meinen sein.

Vor Wut kochend riss ich nun die Tür ganz auf und stand wie der schwarze Rächer im Zimmer und brüllte: „Du verdammte Hure. Raus aus meinem Bett. Raus aus meiner Wohnung. Alle beide.”

„Diiirk!!!???” schrie Marja auf. „Duuu…?

„Ja ich…!!”

Ich riss den Kerl an den Armen hoch, zog ihn zur Tür und trat ihn dort in den Hintern, sodass er im Treppenhaus landete. Seine Klamotten sammelte ich zusammen und schmiss sie hinterher. Dann schloss ich wieder die Tür.

Marja lag immer noch verängstigt im Bett als ich sie anschrie: „Zieh dich endlich an du Nutte und dann mach, dass du raus kommst. Ich komme in zwei Stunden wieder und dann will ich dich und deine Klamotten hier nicht mehr sehen.”

Laut knallte ich die Wohnungstür zu, als ich raus lief. Von ihrem Lover war nichts mehr zu sehen. Der Feigling hatte das Weite gesucht und Marja alleine gelassen. Toller Freund.

Nun irrte ich also ziellos durch die Stadt und versuchte, wieder einen klaren Kopf zu bekommen. Noch immer zitterte ich vor Wut am ganzen Körper. Wäre ich nicht weggegangen, hätte ich mich bestimmt vergessen und etwas getan, was ich danach bitter bereut hätte. Bei mir besteht die Gefahr, wenn ich in Wut zuschlage, dass ich immer weiter mache. Deswegen gehe ich allem was nach Schlägerei aussehen könnte, aus dem Weg.

Mein Telefon klingelte. Marja! Ich drückte sie einfach weg. Mir war schon klar, dass sie nicht so schnell ihre Sachen packen und verschwinden konnte. Wohin sollte ataşehir escort sie auch. Ihre Eltern wohnten in einer anderen Stadt und hatten auch keinen Platz für sie

Wieder das Telefon. Wieder weggedrückt.

Nach zehn Minuten der nächste Versuch. Wieder weggedrückt.

Der nächste Versuch nach zwanzig Minuten. Diesmal ging ich ran und brüllte in den Hörer: „Was willst du. Lass mich in Ruhe.”

„Bitte Dirk, hör mir zu. Es ist alles ganz anders als du jetzt denkst….”, weinte sie.

„Was ist anders?? Das was ich gesehen habe, war eindeutig. Und was der Typ gesagt hatte war auch unmissverständlich. Also hör auf irgendeine Scheiße zu reden”, sagte ich immer noch so laut, dass mich nun schon ein paar Passanten irritiert ansahen.

Ich mahnte mich selber zur Ruhe und sagte zu ihr kurz und knapp: „In fünfzehn Minuten in der Eisdiele an der Ecke. Dort reden wir noch mal zusammen.” Dann legte ich einfach auf.

Ich musste an diesem neutralen Ort reden, weil ich dort gezwungen war, mich zusammenzureißen.

Als ich da ankam, saß sie schon an einem Tisch und wartete. Ich setzte mich dazu und bestellte uns was zu trinken. Sofort heulte sie los und sagte: „Dirk… wie soll ich es denn machen… ich weiß doch nicht wohin… bitte…”

„Das hättest du dir früher überlegen müssen. Wie stellst du dir das denn vor?”

„Ich weiß es doch selber nicht… zwischen Klaus und mir geschah es ganz plötzlich…”

„Klar doch… deswegen verarscht du mich ja auch schon mindestens ein halbes Jahr lang… Unterleibsprobleme… das ich nicht lache”, sagte ich und lachte bitter auf.

„Ach, das ist nicht so… was soll ich denn jetzt machen???” fragte Marja ängstlich.

Ich wusste es auch nicht so recht. Ich wollte aber auch kein Schwein sein. Am liebsten hätte ich sie samt Klamotten auf die Strasse gesetzt. Die gute Erziehung und unsere gemeinsame Zeit hielten mich aber davon ab. Ich überlegte einen Augenblick und sagte: „So wie ich gehört habe, brauchst du noch zwei Wochen, bis die neue Bude klar ist?”

Mit tränenverschleierten Blick nickte Marja.

„Na gut. Ich gebe dir diese zwei Wochen. Dann bist du mit deinen Sachen verschwunden. Über das, was du mit nimmst reden wir noch in Ruhe. Sollte am Ende mehr fehlen als abgesprochen dann….”

Was dann passieren würde ließ ich unausgesprochen. Marja kannte mich aber gut genug und hatte begriffen. Wieder nickte sie nur.

„Sollte ich den Typen in der Zeit noch mal in der Wohnung erwischen, dann fliegt ihr sofort raus. … Alle beide. Ich hoffe das ist dir klar. Nur beim Umzug kann er dir helfen. Aber nur einmal.”

Nun schluchzte Marja laut auf und fragte weinerlich: „Soll ich dann die Zeit über auf dem Sofa schlafen?”

„Du kannst im Bett schlafen. Da werde ich mich sowieso nicht wieder reinlegen. Das kannst du auch gerne behalten und mitnehmen. Wenn überhaupt, dann schlafe ich im Wohnzimmer. Gehe mir aber möglichst aus dem Weg, wenn ich da bin”, sagte ich und sprang auf. Meine mir selbst aufgezwungene Beherrschung war vorbei. Ich musste raus aus dem Laden. Weg von ihr.

Ich bezahlte noch schnell unsere Getränke und lief dann raus.

Wieder lief ich einfach durch die Stadt und hing meinen Gedanken nach. Ich sah in die Schaufenster, ohne zu realisieren, was dort in den Auslagen zu sehen war. Ich stellte mir nur immer wieder die eine Frage… WARUM??? … Was hatte ich nur falsch gemacht? Was konnte der andere ihr bieten, was ich nicht hatte? War ich etwa so eine Niete im Bett? Ich war doch immer für sie da. Ich verstand die Welt nicht mehr. Sie ließ sich von jemand anderem vögeln und mir blieb die ganze Zeit nur, weil ich Rücksicht nehmen wollte, meine Freunde Johnny W. und Mr. Hand.

In meine Wohnung wollte ich nicht zurück. Es war eine Eigentumswohnung, die ich von meiner Oma geerbt hatte. Ich würde da nie ausziehen. Aber mit Marja noch zwei Wochen unter einem Dach ging nicht. Freunde wollte ich auch nicht belästigen. Alle hatten sie eine Partnerin oder sogar Familie. Da wollte ich nicht stören. Also Hotel. Mein Konto würde mir das aber bestimmt übel nehmen und an mein gespartes wollte ich ungern ran. Vielleicht eine billige Pension. Ja das war’s. Meine Mutter kannte da eine Besitzerin. Vielleicht konnte ich da günstig unterkriechen.

Also wieder zurückgegangen und das Auto geholt.

Meine Mutter wohnte alleine am anderen Ende der Stadt und ich musste mitten durch den Stadtkern durch. Sie war seit 15 Jahren von meinem Vater geschieden.

Plötzlich ging es nicht mehr weiter. Da gab es mal wieder eine Demo gegen… ich weiß nicht was…. , was meiner Laune noch mehr zusetzte. Warum rief ich sie eigentlich nicht einfach an? Egal… Ich musste reden… mit irgendjemand… reden mit meiner Mutter.

Aber trotzdem erreichte ich gegen neunzehn Uhr die Wohnung meiner Mutter. Sie hatte nur eine kleine Zweizimmerwohnung und dort auch keinen Platz mehr für mich. Aber ich wollte ja nur mit ihr reden und einen Rat holen.

Ich klingelte und als sie hörte wer da wäre, wurde auch escort ataşehir schon der Türsummer betätigt.

Oben öffnete Mutter die Tür nur soweit, dass ich reinschlüpfen konnte und schloss sie sofort wieder. Dann nahm sie mich in die Arme und sagte: „Hallo mein Lieblingssohn…” (kein Wunder… bin ja auch der einzige) „was treibt dich denn zu so später Stunde in meine bescheidenen Gemächer? Komm rein und setzt dich.”

Als ich ihr ins Wohnzimmer folgte, sah ich warum sie die Tür nicht richtig geöffnet hatte. Mutter war nicht mehr auf Besuch eingestellt und hatte sich für den Fernsehabend schon etwas Bequemes angezogen. Sie lief in einer art Hausanzug rum, der eng anlag und ihre noch sehr gute Figur betonte. Für ihre 41 Jahre sah sie umwerfend gut aus. Sie wurde immer für jünger gehalten.

„Nimm schon mal Platz. Wenn du willst, kannst du dir auch ein Glas Wein holen. Ich ziehe mir nur schnell was Ordentliches an”, sagte sie und wollte im Schlafzimmer verschwinden.

Das war typisch Mutter. Sie lief immer nur adrett gekleidet rum. Normalerweise auch zu Hause. Ich kannte das nicht anders von ihr.

Ich hielt sie aber am Arm fest und sagte: „Lass mal gut sein, Mama. Ich verschwinde gleich wieder. Ich wollte nur, dass du ein gutes Wort für mich bei Susanne einlegst.”

„Wie … Susanne… Was willst du denn von der?” fragte sie überrascht.

Da begann ich ihr alles zu erzählen, als Mutter sich mir gegenüber hingesetzt hatte.

„Das ist ja ein Ding”, sagte sie nur zwischendurch einmal, hörte mir aber genau zu.

Als ich fertig mit meiner Erzählung war, stand Mutter auf und holte eine Flasche Cognac und zwei Gläser heraus. „Ich glaube, du kannst jetzt gut einen vertragen. Und ich auch. Ausgerechnet Marja… ihr habt euch doch immer so gut verstanden.”

Ich wusste, dass Mutter Marja sehr gerne mochte. Umso mehr traf es sie jetzt.

Wir nahmen jeder unser Glas in die Hand und kippten den Schnaps in einem Zug runter. Er brannte ein wenig in der Kehle. Mutter hatte es gut gemeint und uns gleich einen Doppelten eingeschenkt. Man möge es mir verzeihen, aber ich spülte mit einem großen Schluck Wein hinterher, genauso wie Mutter.

„Wie konnte das passieren? Was ist da bloß falsch gelaufen mit euch?” fragte sie.

„Dasselbe frag ich mich auch schon die ganze Zeit. Ich weiß es nicht”, sagte ich und hatte Mühe, die Tränen zurückzuhalten.

Dabei sah ich zu meiner Mutter, die sich nun bequemer hingesetzt hatte. Ein Bein hatte sie unter den Hintern geschoben und sich zurück gelehnt. Ihr war wohl nicht bewusst, dass sie mir dadurch einen atemberaubenden Anblick bot. Die Formen ihrer Brutwarzen waren im Stoff gut zu sehen. Ein Blick etwas tiefer zeigte mir, dass die Hose auch im Schritt spannte. Sie hatte keinen Slip an, was dadurch zu erkennen war, dass ihre Schamlippen und die Spalte sich deutlich im Stoff abzeichneten. Als ich merkte, dass sich bei mir etwas begann zu regen, senkte ich verschämt meinen Blick.

Soweit war ich also nun schon auf ‚Entzug’, dass mich der heiße Anblick meiner Mutter begann zu erregen. Mutter merkte von meinen Sorgen aber nichts.

Wir tranken noch ein Glas Cognac, wieder einen doppelten und dann versuchte sie zu analysieren, wie es zu dieser Situation gekommen war. „Hast du immer deine Socken rum liegen lassen? Hast du nicht im Haushalt geholfen? Oder hast du etwa den Macho raushängen lassen.”

„Nein Mama. Nichts von dem. Ich hab sogar den Deckel auf dem Klo immer wieder runter gemacht und im sitzen gepinkelt”, versuchte ich sie von der Fragerei abzubringen.

Es half aber nichts. Immer wieder fragte sie mich über unseren Alltag aus, bis ich sie unterbrach. „Mama, ich weiß du meinst es gut mit mir, aber können wir nicht erstmal Susanne anrufen, ob die ein Zimmer für zwei Wochen hat. Ich will nicht wieder zurück, solange Marja noch da ist.”

„Da brauchen wir nicht anzurufen. Selbstverständlich schläfst du hier. Das Sofa ist zum ausziehen. Das Geld kannst du dir sparen, obwohl Susanne von dir bestimmt nichts nehmen würde. Ich glaube, es ist besser du bleibst erstmal hier. Fahren kannst du sowieso nicht mehr, bei den ganzen Schnäpsen”, sagte sie.

„Das geht doch nicht. Ich will dir nicht auf den Nerv fallen”, zierte ich mich noch ein wenig.

„Keine Widerrede. Du bleibst hier”, sprach sie nun ein Machtwort.

Gerne fügte ich mich dem.

Mutter begann aber sofort wieder da weiter zu fragen, wo ich sie vorher unterbrochen hatte. Langsam gingen die Fragen auch unter die Gürtellinie und sie fragte mich nach unserem Sexleben aus.

„Mama!!” sagte ich entrüstet. „Ich kann dir doch nicht erzählen, wie wir es im Bett getrieben haben. Das geht nun doch etwas zu weit”, versuchte ich aus der peinlichen Nummer raus zukommen.

„Ach quatsch. Ich will keine Einzelheiten wissen. Nur allgemein, was ihr gemacht habt. Hast du sie zum Beispiel mal richtig verwöhnt? Einen romantischen Abend gestaltet? Mal neue Sachen probiert? Hat sie dich vielleicht mal an ungewöhnlichen Orten verführt? Habt ihr auch ataşehir escort bayan mal neue Stellungen versucht? Vielleicht auf dem Teppich? Beim Duschen kann es auch sehr heiß sein. Oder gab es nur die normal Nummer, nach dem Motto… ‚Heute ist Samstag. Es ist wieder Zeit… Ins Bett gehen, schnell mal ein wenig vögeln. Ihr deine Soße in die Muschi spritzen und dann schlafen’?” bohrte sie weiter.

So kannte ich sie ja überhaupt nicht. „Mama, wie redest du denn?” stieß ich hervor. „Ich kann wirklich nicht sagen, was da schief gelaufen ist. Vielleicht bin ich doch nicht der Richtige für sie und der andere ist halt besser im Bett als ich.”

„Ich frage doch nur. Wenn eine Frau wegläuft, obwohl man sich sehr gut verstanden hat, dann sollte man auch den Fehler bei sich selber suchen. Ganz einfach. Es gehören immer Zwei zu einem Streit. Ihre große Liebe ist der Typ bestimmt nicht, wie ich vermute, oder ich müsste mich total in ihr täuschen. Also hat sie sich bestimmt nur das geholt, was du ihr nicht geboten hast”, bekam ich zu hören.

„Na ja… ich weiß nicht… wie ich die ganzen Überstunden gemacht hatte, war ich schon immer ganz schön fertig…” bemerkte ich.

„Aha, und danach?” hakte sie nach.

„Ja also… irgendwie… flaute es bei uns ab”, gab ich zu. Es viel mir schwer, darüber mit Mutter zu reden.

„Los… genauer…”

„Alsooo… es war mechanisch… Gewohnheit… es prickelte nicht mehr”, versuchte ich zu erklären.

„Hast du versucht, sie mal regelrecht zu verführen? Ein heißes Bad… anschließend eine Massage, ohne sexuelle Übergriffe. Romantisches Kerzenlicht. Ihr einfach mal zeigen, dass du sie liebst und sie nicht nur zum Ficken und Strümpfe waschen da ist”, brachte sie die Sache auf den Punkt.

„Mama!!!”

„Stell dich nicht so an!”

„Ich weiß nicht. Eigentlich nicht. Wir haben nie viel drum rum gemacht”, musste ich ehrlich gestehen.

„Dann brauchst du dich auch nicht zu wundern, wenn sie sich von jemand anderem ficken lässt. So eine vernachlässigte Frau ist doch offen für alle, die sie umwerben”, bekam ich nun zu hören.

Na toll. Also war ich mal wieder an allem Schuld.

„Warum hat sie denn nichts gesagt? Wenn sie es so gewollt hätte, dann wäre ich bestimmt dabei gewesen”, redete ich mich raus.

„Na klar. Warum muss eine Frau so was sagen? Da musst du als Mann auch mal von alleine drauf kommen. Jede Frau will verführt und verwöhnt werden. Sie will nicht nur zum Ficken da sein. Sie will auch Zärtlichkeiten”, fing Mutter an, mir den Kopf zu waschen.

„Ich war doch immer zärtlich zu ihr”, reagierte ich nun trotzig.

„Klar doch. Wie oft habt ihr es denn zum Schluss so getrieben? Ein paar Mal in der Woche?”

Ich schüttelte mit dem Kopf.

„Jede Woche einmal?”

Wieder nur Kopfschütteln von mir.

„Nun sag schon… wie oft?”

„Sooo… zwei bis dreimal im … Monat”, musste ich nun gestehen.

„Bei so jungen Leuten wie ihr, da hätte ich mir aber mal an deiner Stelle Gedanken gemacht. Das ist doch nicht normal. Andere Paare, die sich noch jung lieben, rammeln wie die Karnickel aufeinander rum. Ich glaube mein Junge, du musst noch viel lernen”, bekam ich zu grob von ihr zu hören.

Ich hatte keine Antwort darauf. Was sollte ich darauf auch Antworten?

„Was für eine Verschwendung… nur zwei bis dreimal im Monat.” Verständnislos schüttelte sie mit dem Kopf. „Da wäre ich auch abgehauen bei.”

Was wollte sie mir nur damit sagen?

Aber sie redete schon weiter und ich bekam zu hören, was sie meinte: „Ein guter Liebhaber, kümmert sich erst um die Frau und dann um sich. Er schafft es, eine Frau so zu erregen, dass sie mindestens einmal ihren Orgasmus bekommt, ohne dass er abspritzt. Du kannst eine Frau mit einer Massage und erotischem Streicheln ohne weiteres soweit bringen.”

Sie kam immer mehr in fahrt.

„Was für erogene Zonen an der Frau kennst du eigentlich?” fragte sie nun.

„… Ich weiß nicht so recht… die Brüste… den Kitzler… die Brustwarzen… und die Scheide”, gab ich mein Wissen preis.

„Das war mir klar”, schimpfte sie. „Ihr Männer. Denkt nur mit dem Schwanz.”

Wieder sah ich mir Mutter genauer an. Das Gespräch brachte sie richtig auf. Noch nie vorher hat sie mit mir über solche Sachen geredet. Was war nur los mit ihr? Wieso drang sie so tief in mich ein?

Mein Blick wanderte über ihren Körper. Von ihr unbemerkt, hatte sich ein nasser Fleck gebildet, wo sich ihre Muschi nun noch deutlicher in der Hose abzeichnete. Auch ihre Brustwarzen standen steif ab. Dieser Anblick ließ nun auch wieder etwas bei mir wachsen und signalisierte mir schmerzhaft, dass sie irgendwo Recht hatte. Ich dachte jetzt auch nur noch mit dem Schwanz.

Sie redete aber weiter: „Ich dachte immer, ich hätte dich richtig aufgeklärt. Eine Frau kann auch Lust empfinden, wenn sie an ganz anderen Stellen gestreichelt wird. Zum Beispiel unter den Achseln, oder an den Ohrläppchen. Aber auch die Füße können bei richtiger Behandlung schöne Gefühle verursachen. Das ist bei jeder Frau anders. Das muss man erkunden. Das habe ich dir früher schon mal alles erklärt”, sagte sie aufgebracht.

Sicher hatte sie das. Ich konnte mich dunkel erinnern. Aber da hatte ich noch keine praktischen Erfahrungen und das wieder vergessen.

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

Dusk was upon me as I pulled into the campground and set up my tent. I had made an early start from back East, changed planes, then drove a hundred miles north and a few thousand feet higher to reach the park. I was wiped out but I had promised myself I would keep my brand new sleeping bag clean for my girlfriend joining me this weekend: no spooge stains on it, no crumbs in it, and zero dust, grime or dirty hairs inside from my head or body. So after locking my snacks in the site’s bear locker, I grabbed my towel, some clean clothes to change into, and my ziplock bag of toiletries and headed to the bathrooms.

The campground was pretty dark with only a few lamps here and there. I didn’t see any fires but considering it was summer out West, I suppose they would have been a stupid idea. No doubt some folks find the park too dark, but I kinda like the new efforts not to obliterate the night sky with light pollution. From a distance, the bathhouse looked so quiet that I figured I’d be able to rub one out in the shower without making anyone wait in line or my worrying about a neighboring showerer seeing suspicious shadows under my stall.

My hunch was almost right. When I walked in, there was only one guy – or rather I saw one guy’s feet visible below the toilet stall door. No problem, he was probably as worried about me hearing him drop one in the bowl as I was about him hearing me in the shower. But then, I saw the badly vandalized sign (why can’t people treat public property as well as their own?) taped over the sink mirror…

FUUUUCCCKKKK!! Showers: $1.75 for 5 minutes. 25 cents for each minute more. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I just don’t see pay showers back East. I guess I understand the water shortages out West and I really don’t care that much about seven fucking quarters but I didn’t have any at all. Had I driven my own car I might have a bunch of change in the ashtray, but I just picked up my rental car this afternoon. The store and visitor center are closed for the night. Why not provide a machine that takes singles? Is that asking too much?

The adrenaline was still racing through me over the bad news, but I decided while I was there I might as well trim my beard so the stubble won’t end up in the sleeping ba——-FLUSH.

As I stared into the mirror holding my trimmer, out stepped the man who was taking a shit in the stall. He saw me standing by a sink and walked up in his shorts and a half marathon shirt carrying his own bag of toothpaste, toothbrush, etc. I had guessed that the sandals I had seen under the stall door were attached to a teenager trying to sneak away for a private dump or an old guy trying to escape his RV for a little peace and quiet. But this guy was somewhere in his 40s or 50s, with a head of gray hair, a tanned face, and nothing particularly antisocial in his expression. We nodded acknowledgement of one another’s presence. He rummaged through his own shave kit and dug out a nose hair trimmer.

I asked myself, what the hell? And then opened my stupid mouth, “Hate to bother you, but is there any chance you could make change for $2? The store’s closed.”

“Sorry, dude,” (I didn’t know any men my own age group could call each other dude) “but my wife stole most of my quarters.”

Well, shit. “In that case, is there any chance that if you finish showering before your shower stops running that I could I jump in?

He deactivated his nose hair trimmer but kept looking into the mirror without glancing my way. “There’s a chance but I tend to take long showers. Always have. Ever since I was 14 and used to jerk off where no one could see me,” Without making eye contact, he put the nose hair trimmer in his kit and grabbed his razor to smooth his neck. “But if you’re asking for a favor, I don’t mind helping you out but don’t rush me.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I guess it was nice of him to technically offer to split his 5 minutes, but obviously he wanted his privacy and don’t think he had any intention of finishing before his 5 minute shower ran out. Oh well, I’d just have to use my hand sanitizer in my car to do the best I could until tomorrow. Now that I think about it, I’ll probably get dead skin, stray hairs and sweat on my girlfriend as soon as we make love, so one missed shower is no big deal.

“Alright then,” he said still with no eye contact, just staring at his blade as if weighing whether to change it out. “If you want to make sure the hot water lasts, it’d probably work out best to take care of everything before turning it on.”

Wait, what? He’s interested? “Oh yeah, right, that makes sense.” I started hurriedly fumbling through my kit to dig out my toothbrush and floss. But he interrupted me before I found both.

“Naw, I mean before anyone else comes in, go ahead now and undress and go stand in the shower area, I’ll be right there. Take the last one. Leave your stuff on the bench outside the stall and I’ll take the shelf and hooks in the stall. That way it won’t look so weird if someone comes in balçova escort and sees two guys’ clothes but only one shower going. I don’t mind helping you out but I don’t any need any shit from anybody if you know what I mean.

I did. I put my floss back in the bag, “Yeah, I understand. I really do appreciate your helping me out.”

Then I saw that though he told me not to brush my own teeth, he was putting some toothpaste on his own toothbrush. I had reached the spot along the bench opposite the last shower stall when I heard him brushing loudly. Just as I hung my towel on the wooden peg, I suddenly felt very weird. You might have thought only a weirdo would have gotten this far. That might be a fair point, but I was just trying to solve a problem by asking for something (shower water!) that I figured would have gone to waste otherwise if he took only a quick military shower and then dallied drying off and dressing. I guess I’m naive, or haven’t had this problem before, but I just assumed that when he was done, he’d say “It’s all yours!” then put his towel on and step out from the curtain or stall door and then I’d step into the curtain or door wearing my own towel and that’d be the sum total of our interaction.

But instead I was undressing out here in the open while he was still in his shorts (now that I looked, I saw they were cyclist shorts), sandals, and his race shirt with a bunch of symbols and logos I couldn’t read at this distance. And I was getting in the shower first? Why was that? It seemed to make sense when he said it, but I must’ve missed something. I sat down, pulled off my socks and shoes, placed them neatly under the bench. Heard him spit. Stood up, pulled my t-shirt over my head and hung it on the peg next to the towel. I glanced towards the sink and saw he had a full view of me in the mirror’s reflection. And though he was gargling some mouthwash, he was looking straight into the mirror. Because he was so far away, I couldn’t tell where his eyes were focused, but he clearly was making no effort to rummage through his things to give me some privacy. Although I can’t say for sure, I really felt he was looking.

And that’s when the tingle began. That feeling like butterflies in your stomach, only they’re in your dick. And you feel yourself stirring to life. I think you know the one. It can happen during a tv movie, or conversation with friends about their girlfriends, or on Saturday mornings when you wake up after sleeping in. This would not be the very first time another man would see me naked, but it’s rare for me to be nude in front of others. I usually get away with not doing it at the gym. I didn’t grow up showering in front of friends in school. I wasn’t in the military. The idea never scared me, I just never did it. So the novelty of getting naked in front of a stranger must be what was giving me lift. I knew the longer I delayed it, the bigger it’d be when I finally got undressed so I just whipped my shorts off with my back to him and hung them on a 3rd peg. I seriously doubt I looked as cool and relaxed as I wanted to as I took the three steps into the dressing vestibule so he could have the shower first. I heard him spit the mouthwash out. Here he comes, I thought.

A few seconds later the man opens the stall door and steps into the tiny dressing area, “You’re gonna have to back into the shower dude or I might elbow you in the balls getting my socks off.” I pushed the mildewed curtain to one side and stepped back into the poorly painted concrete block shower stall with its old drain in the corner of the floor. “Or perhaps, he grinned, “you’d’ve poked my eye out instead.” So he definitely knew I was fluffed up and probably hard. I say probably because my dick felt heavy but I was honestly afraid to look down and confirm.

He was quiet as he went through the ritual of placing his items deliberately on the shelf and hooks. I saw him pull out his body wash. Damn it. I’m so freaked out by all this, I forget to bring my own body wash into the stall. I could ask to use some of his, but hadn’t I already asked enough favors? Unlike me he pulls his shorts off before taking his shirt off. But his t-shirt didn’t hang down far and with his back to me, his powder-white butt cheeks looked like they’d pad him well on a long ride. I tapped his (clothed) left shoulder, “I need to slide by, I forgot my body wash.”

Still facing away from me, he straightened up a degree and stepped ever-so-slightly forward. Since he couldn’t see me, I grabbed the tip of my dick and held it against my lower belly hoping to slide by without detection. That turned out to be a poor decision. Why didn’t I just scrape my hard on against the vestibule wall instead and let my cheeks graze his cheeks? My plan resulted in the full length of my erection and balls getting dragged across one of his big cheeks, then into the warmness of his crack that proved to be furry in contrast to his smooth glutes, then back up and over the second bandırma escort cheek. I bet folks have crawled over each other on an air mattress with less contact than I caused. No, I didn’t forget that he just shat before my bush brushed across his bare skin like a car wash roller. It felt good to release my cock once I stepped out of the door to grab my body wash. At the risk of someone walking in and seeing me standing there sexually aroused with a toiletry bag in my hand, I slowed hoping by the time I returned he’d finally be busy showering. But I still didn’t hear any water running.

He raised his voice a little over the stall, “Find it?”

“Yep, thanks.” My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but it was good enough to be able to see my dick sticking straight out in the reflection of the same mirror he had used at the other end of the bathroom. Took a deep breath and opened the stall door.

In the few moments I had been out, he had removed his t-shirt and was now facing the opposite direction as before. He had a swab in one hand exploring his left ear. He looked me straight in the eye instead of checking out whether I had deflated any, advised “Go slow so you don’t make me puncture my ear drum.” I kept the gaze too and refused to break it simply to satisfy my curiosity about his dick since he had already seen mine.

I had half a second to decide whether to slide by face to face or with my back to his front. I still don’t know what the better choice was, but I figured the best course of action was to be consistent and face the same direction I had before, which would make for a chest-to-chest transverse. Also, one reason I needed a shower was because my own ass was dirty and I really didn’t want to risk it if his dick fit as snug as mine had.

As you might have guessed from his cycling shorts, he was more slender than a lot guys that age, but not skinny. In fact, now that I was inches form his face, I think he was a little older than I first guessed. Even though my first impression of him earlier was that my belly was probably bigger than his, I couldn’t feel it against mine. I also didn’t feel his cock or bush or balls. All I could feel was my long stiff cock getting caught on his hip as I very slowly side stepped. As our noses passed each other, his hip released me cock and my so head then dragged across his belly. He looked remarkably relaxed cleaning out his ear despite my feeling like I was keying the side of his car. When I finally got passed him, and his other hip came to an end, my dick sprung back from the release and boinged a bit side to side.

He rearranged his coins and car key on the shelf while suggesting I get in the corner against the wall while he’s showering because that way I’ll be getting some hot water the whole time as it sprays and he moves around. Finally, thank God, we are going to shower and in 5 minutes this will all end.

It’s a relief to be staring into the corner like a naughty school kid. I hear the water start. He laughs and asks me whether I’m counting spiders or boogers facing the corner. I turn away from my peaceful corner to see his upper back under the shower head. He closes his eyes. At last a chance to check him out without getting busted. If he has a bush, it’s mown tight. Unsurprisingly, he’s cut like me and almost all the other guys I see at the gym (at least the ones who are less bashful than I am). But I do admit that I am surprised he’s completely soft. Is my ego wounded that he didn’t respond at all to contact with my body? Maybe, but—-

I can’t believe what I see, and try to rouse him from his closed eyed shower meditation, “Hey, dude, you’re pissing and it’s getting on me! That’s not cool.”

He kept his eyes closed and replied, “Can’t help it. The hot shower makes me go as soon as it hits me.” Then he reaches down and redirects his stream from my feet to my midsection. “Good thing we’re in here to get cleaned up, right?”

I don’t know what to say to a guy who thinks it’s ok to pee on you. I just watch him go rather than look at his face that I feel like punching. I was getting way more warm water from his cock than shower spray, that’s for sure. I don’t understand men’s bodies because you’d think getting hosed down by a stranger would kill an erection, but mine seems to be straining ever higher to get above the splash zone. At least one of the 5 minutes must’ve gone by by now.

Then he suddenly turns around and steps back towards me slightly away from the shower head. He lathers up his armpits and chest and I can tell he’s soaping up his balls. Soon he squirts a big handful of it and begins cleaning out his ass. He really put some tricep muscle into it and of course the back of hand is practically stroking my hard on because I have nowhere to go from this corner.

“Might as well get as clean as we can as quick as we can,” I heard him suggest as he turns his hand’s attention from his butthole to my dick. He gobs soap up and down bayraklı escort my shaft then presses his back as far as he can against my chest. The stall wall is cold against my back and butt. My cock slips right between his upper thighs below his asshole. I feel him contract then release his quads and glutes, milking my dick.

Now, I wasn’t that excited about getting pissed on, but fucking hell, have you ever had a cyclist with power legs basically fuck you with his leg muscles? I can’t fairly complain about that. I could even feel hot shower water on the head of my dick when it poked completely through his thighs and faced the nozzle. I sort of got nervous about the smacking sound of his butt against my lower belly but he didn’t care. Seeing this guy’s back made me realize he was maybe a little older than I had thought at second glance because he had some age spots and wrinkles on his neck, but this guy was in great cardio shape and his quads just wouldn’t quit. He showed no sign of needing a break. I had lost most sense by this point and didn’t object to him jerking me off with his thighs, but it seemed to me the five minutes must surely be over.

On one of my thrusts forward when my cockhead made it through his legs into open air, he ran his fingers underneath it in a way sort of like scratching a dog’s chin and I started oozing cum before I even realized it. I couldn’t see over his shoulders whether my cum had trajectory or just oozed down his legs or dripped from his finger tips. The shower was quickly rinsing it down anyway. He relaxed his lower grip on my softening penis and turned his back to the shower once more, “Now for your top half.”

He took my body wash shampoo and filled his palm. Then began massaging it into my scalp. He was just a little bit taller than me, but not much. It always feels good to get your head shampooed, even at the barber. Having just unloaded a wad on the shower floor, I was about ready to fall asleep but mostly just thankful I was actually getting clean despite this very bizarre evening. But then my relaxation yielded to a growing awareness that he was using his strong grip on my scalp to slowly lower my head and body down. “You’re too tall, my arms are going top sleep.” Of course, he could have reasonably instead let me wash myself, but he was grasping my hair like a handlebar. I felt myself sink. Felt my legs bend to play a trick on my face. I didn’t dare open my eyes because I knew the body shampoo would sting. Damn, he used a lot. And with his back blocking any shower spray, it wasn’t rinsing away. When his hands moved to the sides of my skull and began opening my jawbones, I pretty much knew he wasn’t going to brush my teeth for me.

I didn’t have any religious hangups about sucking a cock, and in fact I have had a sort of scientific curiosity about what it might be like. I even guessed it was probably a lot of fun or so many women and men wouldn’t do it. But did I ever want to go to the trouble of posting or answering personal ads from a bunch of weird flakes? Nope. Had any of my friends ever made a discrete offer? Nope. You might not believe me, but you can go your whole life without ever having an easy opportunity to suck a dick. But this did seem like one, so I opened my mouth and even moved my lips a little forward until I felt hard cock.

But, I didn’t. Instead my mouth met a soft one. I could feel him rise on his toes to lift and lower it into me, then lower back onto his heels. So I had a spongy, chewy penis in my mouth. It was easily squeezed between my tongue and teeth. When I sucked it like a straw, the base grew small from my suction, when I rolled it on the roof of my mouth, it flattened. How could I be such a terrible cock sucker even on my first try? I felt I was chewing Hubba Bubba or Bubbalicious bumble gum until…

The rhythm of the head massage he was giving me began to change, slower and more deliberate almost as if my hair was being a little uprooted. He pressed my face so tightly into the area where I would guessed there should have been a bush, that it was a little hard to breathe. By doing that he also seemed to be asking to get his dick mangled in my mouth. I thought the shampoo was getting into my mouth, until I heard him moan and realized he has juiced himself all inside my cheeks. It was sort of like warm unsweet tea, without ice, but also weird. When the aftertaste struck, I recognized it from eating my own cum when I had to.

I heard and felt the water stop. How long had we been in there? I think at least 10 minutes. There’s no telling how many quarters he must’ve put in. I really can’t believe he didn’t have seven extra to start with when I first asked him, so I could have avoided this whole incident. I opened my eyes. He suddenly let go, backed away, stepped into the vestibule and closed the shower curtain to separate the two of us. He toweled off quickly and quietly. I used some puddles to clean my rank ass while I waited on him to dress. After he opened the stall door, he made his way straight to the exit. I went out to the bench and grabbed my things, putting on my clean clothes. I finally brushed my teeth and got the taste of him out of my mouth. I had a hell of a time trying to the get the rest of the shampoo out of my hair using the faucet at the tiny sink.

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

Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

A few days later, I got a call asking me to attend for an interview, so I dressed sharply and cropped my hair back to a no1 grade. The job was for a store a few miles from the house, closer to the city, but it was something I was experienced in. I was told that the regional manager was conducting the interviews and he was travelling over especially, so I made sure I was there in plenty of time. I was to be seen in a hotel, rather than at the store itself. After giving my details to the receptionist, I took a seat and waited.

Shortly after, a man came striding across the lobby towards me. He had an air of authority about him and, it must be said, looked damn fine in a suit. He was very broad and tanned, with short dark blonde hair and a handsome face. I put him to be in his early forties. I quickly wondered to myself if I was going to find every man on earth attractive, before he held out his hand.

“Hello, you must be Smith?” he asked.

I shook his hand, impressed by his strong grip. “Yes Sir,” I replied.

He smiled. “It’s ok, you can call me Dan.”

We proceeded into a small room where Dan asked me about my work history and my current situation. He nodded and listened attentively and seemed impressed by what I had to say. He explained that the company had outlets all over the country and said they were looking to open a new store on the West Coast, where he himself had travelled from. Although Cal and I were going great guns, I did say that I was willing to relocate. He told me a bit more about the business and then the interview was over. I asked how many more people he had to see, and he told me that I was the last on the list for that day.

“Now I’m able to find myself some trouble to get into,” he winked at me.

I laughed and glanced at his left hand, noting the absence of a wedding band.

“What kind of trouble did you have in mind?” I asked, flirtatiously.

“I don’t know yet. You know this town. What kind of things could be on offer?” he asked, his smile broadening.

‘Me’ I felt like saying but didn’t feel quite brave enough.

Dan bergama escort started to put his paperwork away and said, “So, Smith, what you got planned for the rest of the day?”

“My time’s my own now, got no plans,” I replied.

“Ok, well here’s an idea. Why don’t you come up to my room and have a coffee while I get changed, then you can show me around. I rarely get to see any of the towns I stay in,” Dan suggested.

The only thing I wanted to show him was the one I was sat on, but I nodded and followed him to the elevators and up to the third floor. He let us into his room, took off his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed.

“The coffee making stuff is over there,” he pointed, whilst rolling up his shirtsleeves and loosening his tie. I sat on a chair opposite him.

“I don’t really want coffee, but thanks,” I said.

He smiled at me. “What would you like, Smith?” he asked, his hand resting in the fork of his crotch. He gave it a brief squeeze and I knew in that instant where the afternoon was headed.

I got up from the chair and knelt in front of him, removing my suit jacket as I did so and flinging it away. Dan grabbed my tie, twisted it in his hand and pulled me towards his crotch and soon my nose was pressed up against the front of his tented trousers. I could smell him through the material, a musky mix of fresh sweat and dick. I took off my shoes and socks, whilst Dan ground himself into my face. I wanted him to reveal what he had down there and wanted it in my mouth.

“You want my cock, don’t you, son?” he grumbled.

I moaned. “Yes, Dan,” kissing the material that it was encased in.

He tightened his grip on my tie, gently choking the air from my throat. “I want you to call me Dad,” he instructed.

“Okay, Dad,” I said as best I could.

“Good boy.” He pulled me up so that I was standing and groped my prick through my trousers, squeezing my balls tight and making me moan. “Feels like you got a boner there, son,” he acknowledged. “You like your nuts being handled, don’t you, boy?”

I managed a nod, my head thrown back as I was enjoying the sensation of his biga escort big manly hands on my clothed dick.

He slapped my sack lightly. “I didn’t hear you, son.”

“Yes, Dad,” I replied.

He removed his tie and shirt, showing a hairy masculine build underneath a wife-beater vest. His aroma was a mix of aftershave and sweat, fresh in his pits and running down his forehead. He flexed his arms and pulled my head into his armpit, telling me to smell and lick him, which I did. I grabbed for his tit through the vest, pinching his nipple. He slapped me gently across the face.

“No touching, son, not until I say so,” he reprimanded me.

My response was muffled in his pit. “Yes, Dad. I’m sorry, Dad.”

He jerked me to my feet and undid my belt, my trousers falling to the floor. My cock was stiff in my shorts, a wet patch blooming at the front, my pre-cum soaking through. I stepped out of them, standing naked on my bottom half before him.

“Fuck, you’ve got a big cock, son,” he said, then leant forward and took the head of my dick into his mouth, cleaning it of any leaked fluid and flicking the end of his tongue on my helmet, poking it in my piss slit. Then he proceeded to take my entire length in his mouth, until his nose was pressed against my pubic hair. My cock swelled in his mouth, as he took my balls in his hand and tugged. I moaned in pleasure, my legs turning to jelly. I’d never had my balls treated roughly before and I really enjoyed the sensation of pleasure and pain combined. Dan’s rhythmic suction of my cock increased, and he was really slamming it down his throat. I don’t think I’d ever been sucked so greedily and wantonly before.

“Yes, Dad, that’s so good,” I murmured in encouragement.

Dan stopped sucking me and pulled me down to kiss him on the lips. He poked the inside of my mouth with his tongue and I could taste my cock juices on him. He pulled down his zipper and pulled out a thick, cut dick that was easily seven inches in length and had a great girth. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. It jutted out of his fly and Dan pushed my head towards his lap.

“Suck Dad’s dick,” he instructed me, bornova escort and I swallowed it in one fluid motion. He grabbed the back of my neck and kept me impaled on his meat as he lifted his butt off the bed to ram it in further. I gagged at the thickness of it, my spit spilling out and bubbling on his zipper. “Yeah, suck my cock, son, suck it right the fuck down.”

I breathed through my nostrils as I inhaled his prick. He was pumping my mouth quickly, the pace not letting up. Suddenly, he pushed me away and grabbed me, turning me around and forcing me over so that I was bent over the bed. He slapped my butt and spat on his fingers and inserted them into my hole, widening my cunt. Then with no preamble or warning he shoved his cock inside me and I cried out.

“Shut the fuck up and take Dad’s cock,” he grunted at me, before thrusting back and forth in a frenzied fuck. His hairy balls were slapping against mine, which were climbing back towards my body, signalling an impending climax. His hands grabbed either side of my upturned ass and he pounded me for all he was worth.

Soon he was panting with exertion and said, “I’m going to shoot in your ass, son,” before I felt the pump of his semen inside me. He became still but kept his cock in place as I reached under myself and pumped my cock to a spurting orgasm, which splattered the coverlet of the bed.

He withdrew from me and I collapsed in a heap, half-hanging off the bed, my ass feeling completely reamed out and throbbing. Dan crouched by me and licked the side of my face. “You are one horny piece of ass, Smith.”

“Thank you, Dad. You have got an amazing cock,” I managed to reply.

We separated then, and he tucked his softening penis back into his suit trousers. I got dressed and sat back on the chair, wincing as my butt made contact. I was going to feel fucked for a long time.

“It was my pleasure, Smith. And thanks for showing me the sights,” he smiled.

Just as I was about to leave, I turned to him and kissed him. “Does this mean I’ve got the job?” I asked.

Dan winked at me. “It seems like you do, Smith. You certainly passed muster.”

I left the hotel feeling so good about myself that I didn’t notice the car coming towards me. The driver shouted, and I leapt out of the way just in time, but my feet became tangled together and I fell to the floor, hitting my head on the concrete.

I blacked out and didn’t know anymore until I woke up in the hospital.

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

Last night, my friend Eric and I had some really hot sex down at the Adult Theatre. Eric had me wear a pair of my wife’s panties and I was a sissy fuck-boy for a whole theatre full of horny men. My wife is out of town for the weekend, so we are gonna be as lecherous as two bisexual fuck-buddies can be.

This morning, I awoke to the sensation of Eric’s hand stroking on my stiffening cock. My dick isn’t huge, but at 7 inches long and 2 inches wide, it’s big enough. Eric’s hand was wrapped around my cock, and I could feel the strength in his grip…firm, yet gentle. He leaned in and kissed my cock on the head.

“Good morning, slut” he said then chuckled. “I saved your panties from last night, I don’t care what you tell your old lady, but I gotta keep ’em, man. That was too hot. I think we should go back and do it again tonight!” He looked at me and smiled, then he engulfed my now completely raging cock with his supple lips, and began giving me a slow, sensuous blow job. It was fucking great, and I just leaned back into the pillows and enjoyed it as much as I possibly could. Unfortunately, Eric sucks cock like the best of them, and in no time I blew a load of my spunk into his steamy-wet mouth. It was actually only the second time I had cum since we started our little weekend. Last night I was so busy getting all the other guys off, I only came twice in the Adult Theatre.

Eric swallowed every last drop and then asked me “So, what’re we gonna do today?”

In all honesty, I had no idea, so I said “What do you wanna do?”

“I was thinking,” Eric said “why don’t we just hang out here and relax around the house. Last night was pretty wild, and I’m bushed”

“All right, I’m gonna shower” I said, and off I went.

We spent the morning doing just that, a light breakfast, football game and some snacks in the early afternoon…honestly, a pretty tame day. Until after the game, that is.

At about 7 o’clock or so, Eric got up and went into the bedroom, at first I didn’t think much of it, but he was gone for a while so I asked him: “Dude, what are you doing?”

“C’mon in here” he replied.

When I walked to the bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of Eric, all of his six feet tall, blond haired, blue eyed and well-muscled contractor body on my bed. The light hair that sparsely populated his thighs was lit up by the bed stand lamp, and his arms rippled in the low light. He was on all fours, rocking back and forth to the fucking motion his right hand generated with my wife’s largest rubber dildo stuck up his asshole. He was looking back at me and grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“This fucker’s a monster, man, but it feels awesome in my asshole.”

In fact, it is a monster. I bought it for the wife as a joke. It must be 3 inches thick and a good 13 inches long. It has realistic (but oversized) balls hanging under it. Except for the bright purple color, it looks like a real, giant dick. My buddy had it stuffed in his asshole and was fucking himself with it. Even the wife’s pussy had only taken it once, and that took a lot of time and lube.

I stripped off my clothes and climbed onto the bed next to Eric. Taking his cue by the fact that he had a dildo in his asshole, Eric wanted to be the bottom tonight, which was fine with me (my ass still hurt). I knelt next to his head and without saying a word to him, grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. I slapped my cock against his face a few times and rubbed it on his lips.

“Open çarşamba escort your mouth, fucker” I said. Then I reached back and grabbed the dildo by the base, and quickly drove it all the way into his ass. He opened his mouth to gasp, and I stabbed my throbbing cock in between his teeth.

“Suck my cock, all the way down.” I grabbed another handful of hair and I began to savagely fuck his face and throat.

Eric was moaning and groaning and slobbering all over my cock and balls. He really likes getting face fucked.

“Rub your nose in my pubes, bitch” I said “Take all that cock in your throat. I’ll fuck your face while that big rubber prick is in your ass. You like that, don’t you?

Eric grunted in agreement.

I pulled my throbbing dick from his mouth and spun him around. “Show me your ass, let me see where you like men to put their big hard cocks, you slut.”

Eric wiggled his butt at me, which was delicious with that huge dildo in the middle of it. I grabbed his balls with my left hand and began to tug them down while I began drilling in and out of his butt with the dildo. I worked him over pretty good, making sure to keep pressure on his balls so he couldn’t cum. I was really turned on, knowing that I was fucking my buddy in his asshole with my wife’s dildo. If she only knew…

“Oh god yes! Please fuck me harder. Make me cum.” Eric said. I let go of the dildo and slapped him hard on his ass with my right hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, bitch. I’ll fuck you as hard as I like. You’ll fucking cum IF and WHEN I tell you to, and not before. I you let so much as a dribble of spunk out of your cock without permission, I’ll punish you like never before.” With that, I squeezed his balls a little harder in my hand. Not painfully, but enough to send a message. Of course, I knew all this would really do is force some precum out the tip of his dick. The punishment is the best part! I slapped him once more on his ass and resumed pistoning the dildo in and out. This went on for a while until I rolled him onto his back and pulled the rubber cock from his well stretched asshole. I spread his legs and put his ankles on my shoulders like a woman.

“Tell me you want my cock, bitch” I said.

“Please, let me have your cock. Bury it in me and let me make you cum. Shoot your big load in my asshole. I love it there…”

I lubed my dick while he was talking and without warning, shoved it balls deep, all the way into his ass with one thrust.

“Ooooh godddd…!” he moaned.

His ass was a little loose from the dildo, which was actually a turn on for me. I began to fuck him hard and fast. I wanted this game to last a while, but I was too turned on. I fucked him hard and in no time. I could feel my balls boiling. I pulled my throbbing cock from his hole and straddled his chest. I stroked my cock a few times and then blew my load all over his face.

“Open your mouth, cunt!” I told him. Then I worked the last couple of spurts right into his mouth. “Swallow” I ordered.

He greedily gulped down my cum.

Then I reached down and grabbed his cock. “What the fuck is this? It looks like you’ve been leaking cum. I TOLD you not to do that, you fucking punk-bitch. Now I have to punish you for disobeying me.” I squeezed his cock tightly, then reached down and grabbed his balls. “You’ll have to make this up to me, bitch. I don’t like being disobeyed.”

I let go of his nut sack and walked to my wife’s dresser. Opening çaycuma escort the top drawer, I reached in and grabbed a pair of thigh high stockings and a garter belt.

“Since you seem to like women’s clothing, tonight it’s your turn. Put these on.” And I threw him the stockings and belt. Eric didn’t say a word, he just opened the package and began putting on the hose. Then he clipped the stockings to the belt and I told him to get my cum-stained panties from last night and put them on. Over that, I dressed him in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt.

I ordered him to get the car ready while I got dressed. When I got to the car, Eric was sitting in the passenger seat with a look of pure lust on his face. “These feel fucking incredible, man. I should start dressing like this more often.”

“Shut up and suck my cock while I drive”, was my response. “When we get to the theatre, you will march right up to the desk and buy us each tickets. Shake your ass a little bit, so everyone will know why you’re there.”

Eric leaned in and unzipped my fly, taking out my cock and sucking on it for the 10 minute drive to the ABS. When we arrived, things looked pretty good; there were quite a few cars in the lot. Eric did as instructed, and did a nice job of sashaying his ass. I know I wanted to fuck him, and judging by the looks from some of the guys in the store, I wasn’t alone.

We went back to the theatre area and walked in. The place was busy. It was obvious tha some action was going on until we walked, so I reached over and rubbed Eric’s dick, to let everyone know we were cool. Soon enough, all the guys in the room began moving around back to whatever they were doing before. A lot of jerking off, and a few couples jacking and sucking each other. I was surprised to see the young, college aged kid whose cock I had sucked last night was here again. He saw me and walked over and stood next to me. He groped my groin and I did his. Then I turned to Eric and said “drop your pants, fag” in his ear.

Eric did and college boy looked over and did a double take. Then he looked at me and I nodded. He went and knelt next to Eric and began rubbing his nylon covered thighs. Eric’s cock was already pushing against the red satin of his panties. With college boy feeling him up, it would be no time before he added another come stain to the crotch.

“You look really sexy, man” said college boy “you like wearing women’s underwear, dontcha?” I can tell you do. Your cock is really hard.” To me he said “Can I see his ass?”

I lightly slapped Eric on the ass cheek. “Turn around and show him your ass, pussy boy. Don’t make him wait again, or you’ll be sorry. As it is, every man here who wants to can fuck your mouth and asshole tonight, as punishment for your earlier disobedience.” With that, I looked at college boy and said “Enjoy.”

“Bend over the chair and show us what you got” I told Eric. He did, and I saw that other men in the room were starting to take notice of us. I smiled and nodded at every one of them who made eye contact, and before too long there were 7 or 8 men standing around Eric, who was still bent over the theatre chair. College had pulled the panties down to Eric’s knees and was working a wet finger into Eric’s already loosened asshole. A 30’s looking dude stepped in front of Eric and without saying anything to him, stuck a 6 inch dick right into his waiting mouth. College boy then rolled on a rubber and began stuffing Eric’s asshole full çayırova escort of hard dick flesh. Eric was moaning around the dick in his mouth.

“Suck it good, bitch” I said, whispering in Eric’s ear. “Drink his cum like the little punk you are.”

Mr. Blowjob grunted and quite obviously began pumping a load of jizz into Eric’s mouth. As Eric gulped it down without spilling a drop, I noticed that all of the other guys had pulled their pricks out. It was a diverse crowd, mid 20’s to mid 50’s but they all had average or better cocks. Two middle aged guys were stroking each other while watching the action. College boy was fucking Eric’s ass hard and fast and couple guys were rubbing Eric’s nylons. Eric finished swallowing his first load and as soon as the dude stepped back, his cock was replaced by the next one. This guy had the biggest cock of the group, probably 8 inches long and 2 inches thick. It was straight as an arrow. And this dude like d it rough, like Eric does. Big Dick literally grabbed hold of Eric’s ears and began slamming his cock into Eric’s throat. He fucked his face with a rapid series of deep thrusts, then pulled out and stepped back.

“I want his ass next” Big Dick announced.

As if on cue, College Boy grunted and filled his rubber with cum. He pulled his cock out of Eric’s ass and began pulling his rubber off. “Let me” I said, and I carefully pulled the rubber off his dick. I then pulled Eric’s hair, removing his mouth from the cock he was sucking and turning it. “Open up” I said, then I poured the cum out of the rubber into Eric’s open mouth. “Swallow, bitch.” I told him.

Big Dick then stepped behind Eric and spit on his latex covered dick. He rubbed the head around Eric’s asshole, then pushed himself inside and began fucking Eric hard. Eric went back to sucking a 6 inch cock attached to one of the middle-aged guys who were jerking off earlier. Soon, while Big Dick fucked him, Eric was swallowing another load of fresh cum. That dick was replaced by yet another one and Eric began sucking his 4th cock in a row. I could tell he was loving this. Big Dick was a rough fucker and he was really hammering his cock in and out of Eric’s abused asshole. Eric was enjoying it so much he was loosing concentration on his dick sucking, so the guy in his mouth grabbed the back of his head and began face-fucking him. Now Eric had Big Dick hammering his asshole and his face was being used by a fit, 30-something guy with a 6 inch dick. It was too much for me to handle and I slid under Eric and began to suck on his cock while stroking his nylon covered legs. Eric began to moan and groan like a madman and within seconds of me taking his fat cock in; he began to shoot his sticky spunk into my mouth.

Big Dick cried out “Aw fuck, I’m gonna cum!” and I reached up and grabbed the base of his shaft. I pulled him out of Eric’s ass, ripped the rubber off, and began sucking his fat cock just in timer for him to add his load to my already cum filled mouth.

When he finished, I slipped out from under the pile and grabbed Eric’s head in my hands. I had him kneel in front of me, and while two guys were watching and stroking heir cocks, I tipped Eric’s head back and spat my mouthful of cum onto his face. Then I used my own hard prick to rub it around and shovel it into his waiting mouth. Eric then sucked my cock and I savagely fucked his throat. I was so fucking turned on that it was only a few minutes and I drove my cock into the back of his throat and shot my load right into his belly.

I then sat down in a chair and watched as 3 more guys had their way with my little garter belt wearing sissy. Eric did manage to cum one more time before we left, and he swallowed all three loads, one right from his asshole. It was hot.

And just think, we still had one day to go.

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The day after the storm, the cleanup began. Some houses had been flooded; windows were broken; tree limbs and leaves littered the town. The worst damage was to one of the bed and breakfasts; an entire section of its roof had been lost and would need fast repair, since the place was already booked up for the summer season. Fortunately, despite the property damage, no one had been hurt.

As soon as it was declared safe for people to leave the emergency shelter at the high school, Declan returned to his cottage. There was no electricity, but he didn’t care. It was better than enduring the shelter any longer. Even if Shane was there.

It astonished Declan that he’d run into his former lover in an emergency shelter, of all places. Six years of separation, and they’d found each other again. He was equally astonished by his reaction to seeing Shane. It had seemed like no time at all had passed; they talked as easily as ever. And clearly time hadn’t diminished the attraction between them, as evidenced by their lovemaking in the basement of the high school.

But even Shane wasn’t enough to keep Declan at the shelter any longer than necessary. He had always hated crowds, and the shelter had been filled to overflowing. The noise had been too much for him. Having no electricity was a small price to pay.

The morning of the second day after the storm, Declan awoke to bright sunlight and the sounds of cleaning and construction outside. He got up and looked out the window at the blue sky. It was a perfect day for painting. He got his things together and left the cottage without bothering to shower or change. Showering would have been miserable without electricity to heat the water, and the shorts and T-shirt he’d worn to bed were acceptable to wear outdoors.

Many of the nearby trees had been almost stripped by the high winds. The bare limbs against the sky appealed to Declan. He set up his easel in a corner of the yard and was preparing his paint when he heard someone call, “Declan! Good morning!”

Declan turned to see Shane hurrying across the lawn. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You don’t sound too happy to see me,” Shane said. “Did I do something wrong?”

Only brought more confusion to Declan’s life than he’d felt in years. “No, of course not,” he said. “I just woke up, and I’m surprised to see you. I thought you’d be working.”

“I took a few days off. My place is kind of a mess; some windows got broken, and there’s debris all over the yard. And some in the house. Besides, I can’t shower until the power comes back, and I don’t think my coworkers want to smell me.”

“You could have showered at the shelter, couldn’t you?”

“Sure, if I’d wanted to wait in line forever. Everyone’s trying to shower there, even the people who’ve gone home. I don’t mind having some time off from work. Cleaning up is going to take a few days, since I don’t have anyone to help me.”

Declan wanted to spend his day painting and recovering from being at the shelter. He wanted to be alone. But Shane was clearly hinting for his help with the cleanup, and Declan didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Besides, spending time with Shane wouldn’t be exactly unpleasant. “I can help if you’d like,” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Shane said.

“I’m sure. Just let me put this stuff away.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your painting. I know how much you hate that.”

Though that had never stopped him before. Countless times when they’d been together, Declan had been in the middle of a painting when Shane had started conversations with him. He had never seemed to grasp that Declan needed to concentrate on his art, and he’d usually gotten annoyed if Declan tried to ignore him. But after six years, maybe Shane had changed.

“You aren’t interrupting,” Declan said. “I hadn’t started yet. I can paint later. The branches will still be there.”

“Okay.” Shane smiled. “Help would be great. I was actually bucak escort on the way to the glass place to see about new windows, and decided to stop by and see how you’re doing. You didn’t tell me you were leaving the shelter yesterday.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to get out of there.”

“I understand. I know you hate being around that many people. That’s why I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He looked around. “You don’t seem to have had much damage here.”

“No, fortunately. The person I’m renting from is hard to get hold of.” Declan took down his easel. “Here, carry this for me, please.”

“Sure.”

Shane took the easel. Declan picked up the rest of his supplies and led Shane into the cottage. “Nice place,” Shane said.

“It’s not bad,” Declan agreed. “For a week of painting and relaxing, it’ll do.”

“Are you still leaving at the end of the week?” Shane sounded disappointed. “The other night, you said you might stay till the end of the summer.”

“I might, if I can find somewhere to stay. This cottage is already rented out for the next few weeks, so I have to leave Saturday afternoon.”

“You could stay with me. My house has two bedrooms, so there wouldn’t be any pressure on you.” He touched Declan’s shoulder. “I’d like you to stay, Declan. I know we’ve been apart for a long time, but I’d like to try again.”

Declan wasn’t sure what to say. He still had feelings for Shane, there was no question about that. Strong feelings. But did he want to get involved with him again? “We can talk about it,” he said finally. “It’s only Thursday; as long as I’m out of the cottage by five o’clock Saturday, I’m all set. There’s time to decide.” Not that two days was enough time to make that big a decision. He and Shane had lived together for years, but now Declan was used to living alone. He wasn’t sure he could adjust to living with someone again. And even if he and Shane agreed that he was just staying at Shane’s house for the rest of the summer, there would be hopes and expectations on both sides, ones that it might be better not to meet.

“There’s plenty of time,” Shane agreed. “Meanwhile, are you going to change before we go to the glass place?”

Declan looked down at his shorts and T-shirt. “Change? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Shane laughed. “You never were much on fashion. Okay, come on, then.”

It took them a while at the glass shop to arrange to have new windows made, but finally they were told that someone would be at Shane’s the next day. “That was needlessly annoying,” Shane said as they went back to his pickup truck. “I know there’s a lot of storm damage around, but all they had to say was they’d make an appointment. They didn’t have to argue so much.”

“Neither did you,” Declan pointed out. “I thought you were going to leap across the counter and throttle the guy.”

“I thought about it,” Shane admitted. “Okay. Have you had anything to eat this morning?”

“Not yet.” Declan’s stomach rumbled; he hadn’t realized until then that he was hungry. “I couldn’t have cooked anything if I’d wanted to; the stove’s electric. And I guess I’m going to have to throw out all the stuff in the fridge. I just went shopping Monday.”

“Yeah, it stinks. I’m going to have to get rid of a bunch of stuff too, but there’s no point in buying any more until the power’s back on. I called the power company this morning and got a recording saying it could be on as early as this afternoon or as late as Monday, depending on how damaged the lines are.”

“Nothing like being definite.”

They got into the truck, and Declan took his favorite position, slumped down in the passenger seat with his feet on the dash. “Aren’t you a little old to sit like that?” Shane teased.

“I’m thirty-five. Not quite ancient,” Declan replied. “And this is comfortable.”

“Yeah, but you’re getting dirt on my dashboard.”

“I’ll wipe it off.”

Shane bulancak escort laughed. “Some things never change. You always used to say that, and you never wiped off the dirt.”

“Maybe I wanted to leave my mark.”

“Believe me, you did.”

Shane drove back through town, avoiding the fallen branches and other debris that the public works department hadn’t yet removed from the streets. “It’s a nice place,” he said. “When Frank and I moved here, I thought it would be too quiet. I was used to the city. But I’ve really liked living here.”

“Which I assume is why you stayed after Frank left,” Declan said.

“Yeah. Kind of funny, really. He was the one who wanted to move here, but I was the one who wanted to stay.”

“That is interesting. Why did he want to move here in the first place?”

“His family used to come here summers, and he liked the place. We bought the house from one of his uncles; we got it for a song, because no one else in the family wanted it after his grandparents passed away.”

“But Frank didn’t want to keep the house when you and he separated?”

“Like I said, he didn’t want to stay here. And the house was in my name; I’m the one who made the down payment and paid most of the mortgage. You know what, let’s change the subject, okay? I don’t want to talk about Frank anymore. He and I split up a year ago, and I haven’t even heard from him since. I want to talk about you and me.”

That was a conversation Declan didn’t want to have. Not yet. The night at the shelter, he and Shane had talked about getting together again, about the feelings for each other that had never completely gone away. But that had come partly from their surprise at seeing each other again. Now Declan was having second thoughts. He still loved Shane; he’d known that for six years. But was that enough to make things work between them again?

“What needs to be done at your house?” Declan asked.

Shane sighed. “If you don’t want to talk about us, all you have to do is say so. I guess I’m going to have to put up some boards over the broken windows for now, until they show up to fix them, and I want to clear the yard as much as possible. And of course there’s broken glass all over the place inside, and some other mess. I just left the shelter this morning; I haven’t done anything at home yet.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want to talk about us,” Declan said. “It’s that I don’t know what to say yet.”

“Maybe we don’t need to say anything.” Shane rested his hand on Declan’s thigh. “I think we said a lot the other night, with and without words. Making love to you felt as right as it always has. We still belong together, Declan. We never should have been apart.”

“But we have been apart. For a long time. We can’t pretend six years don’t exist.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking for another chance. We can start from scratch if that’s what you want, but after the other night, I don’t think we need to.”

They turned onto a dirt road that led over a slight hill. When they crested the hill, Declan caught his breath. Ahead of them was a weatherbeaten house; the grey boards almost sparkled in the sunlight. Beyond the house, the ocean stretched to the horizon. “It’s beautiful!” Declan exclaimed.

“Something you could paint.” Shane drove up in front of the house and shut off the truck. “It’s a great place, but lonely sometimes. Especially in the winter; the closest houses are summer people.”

“I’d love that. No one around, peace and quiet…”

“You always did like that. You and I are such opposites. Sometimes I wonder what kept us together for ten years.”

“We made things work. The differences didn’t matter.”

“And we could make them work again.”

Shane leaned toward Declan and placed his hand gently on the side of Declan’s face. Against his better judgment, Declan met Shane’s lips with his own. For a few minutes, they were lost in their bulanık escort kiss.

Shane broke it. “Inside. Cleaning can wait. Right now, I need you.”

“Shane, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Declan, please.” Keeping his hand against Declan’s cheek, Shane slid the other hand up Declan’s thigh. “The other night was amazing. We were always good together, and that hasn’t changed. I want you, Declan.”

Declan felt his body responding to Shane’s touch. He wanted Shane too, but despite their time together at the shelter, it felt now like making love would be going too far, too soon. “Let’s go inside,” he said. “And talk about it.”

“You talk too much,” Shane grumbled.

Declan grinned. “And you’re always horny. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to fuck today.”

“I can talk you into it.”

“We’ll see.”

They got out of the truck and went inside. The place was more of a mess than Declan had expected; after the windows had broken, apparently the wind had scattered papers and other things around. “I definitely have some work ahead of me,” Shane said.

“Better get started, then.”

Declan bent to pick up a piece of paper, and Shane took advantage by caressing his ass. “Good position for you,” Shane said.

“Very funny.” Declan stood up and looked around for a trash can. “Where should I put this?”

“Down.” Shane’s arms went around him. “Forget about cleaning. Think about us. Think about how good I make you feel. I love you, Declan.”

“You do make me feel good.” The bulge in the front of Declan’s shorts proved that. “But if you’re serious about trying to make it work again, we can’t rush things, Shane. You’re right; the other night was great. I’ve missed you more than I realized. But that doesn’t mean we can just-“

Shane cut him off with a kiss. Their tongues came together, and one of Shane’s hands roamed below Declan’s waist, finding the hardness there. Declan gasped into Shane’s mouth at the touch.

Before the night at the shelter, Declan hadn’t been with anyone in nearly a year. He’d lost himself in his art and his job, and had given up on finding a partner. He’d thought he hadn’t missed sex at all, but since being with Shane again, his body seemed to want and expect more. He ran his hands down Shane’s back, over his ass. Shane rubbed Declan’s cock through his shorts, and Declan moaned. “Does that feel good?” Shane asked.

“You know it does.”

“Then let me make you feel better.”

Shane knelt in front of Declan and pulled his shorts down, revealing Declan’s cock. Shane grasped it in one hand and licked the tip. “Do you want me to suck you, baby?” he asked.

Declan’s second thoughts warred with his desire to feel Shane’s mouth on him. The desire won. “Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, I want that.”

Shane’s mouth engulfed Declan’s cock. He sucked, sliding his mouth up and down Declan’s shaft until Declan wanted to explode. “God, Shane, that feels amazing!” he said. “I’m going to come!”

Shane glanced up, a gleam in his eye, and sucked harder. Declan felt his balls tighten and said again, “Shane, I’m coming!”

When they’d been together before, Shane had never allowed Declan to come in his mouth, though he’d filled Declan’s mouth plenty of times. But now, Shane continued sucking until Declan felt himself erupt. “Oh, god, Shane!”

When Declan’s orgasm ended, Shane licked his cockhead clean and stood, grinning. “Bet you never thought I’d do that, huh?”

“I guess six years can change things,” Declan said. “That was incredible. Can I return the favor?”

“Not right now. We’ve got some cleaning up to do.” Shane bent and pulled Declan’s shorts back up. “I’ll take your returned favor later. Let’s get to work.”

“Things really have changed.” During their relationship, Shane had never done anything without reciprocity.

“One thing hasn’t.” Shane kissed Declan’s lips. “I love you. Now come on, let’s get some of this stuff cleaned up so we can take a break and finish what we just started.”

“I just finished,” Declan pointed out. “And I love you too.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Shane went to a nearby closet and took out a broom. “Here. We’ll start with cleaning the bedroom.” He winked and went upstairs.

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“So, my agent said it was for some sort of commercials for the Halloween season.”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s for commercial use to be released a few weeks before Halloween, yes.”

I needed the work. The plays on Broadway were shutting down almost as fast as they opened. It was just bad luck, a bunch of new plays that weren’t piquing the audience’s interest and some tired old revivals. There was more creative work being done off Broadway and in some clubs. I liked doing those, but they didn’t pay too well. I was barely getting by.

“I’ve looked at a bunch of résumés that were sent to me by the New York agents, and yours was one of the standouts. Good enough for us to pay your way down here.”

“Yes, I was surprised to get a call from here. New York isn’t exactly—”

“New York has a freer environment overall. It’s where our best talent comes from.”

I didn’t want to argue myself out of a possible gig, so I didn’t pursue that point. The pay would be good. Real, real good for the number of hours it should entail. And commercials. They were great exposure for guys trying to break into movies. Which was what I was trying to do. Me and thousands of other young, good-looking guys, I’d found. But I had talent. I’d been in two Broadway plays, one with a small speaking part. If either one had lasted more than two weeks, I would have been sitting pretty. And I was doing OK in Off Broadway and in the private clubs. Of course, the sooner I could get out of the private clubs, the better.

We were sitting in the out-door section of a café above the Virginia Beach boardwalk, and I was dividing my time between listening to the Holland guy and watching a volleyball game going on between muscle studs in their tiny Speedos below us. These obviously were guys more there to be seen than to play volleyball.

Andrew Holland was quite a looker too. He was the film producer who had paid my way down here. I was looking past him at the table down at the volleyball players and there wasn’t much difference between him and them other than age—and I wasn’t at all sure I didn’t give him the edge on desirability.

He was the mature Paul Newman type—with watery blue eyes, good facials, and silver gray hair, which, on him, as was the case occasionally, made him look younger than a guy should be with a full head of gray hair. He had a nice smile, and I liked that he was keeping this interview balanced—selling me on his project as much as testing me for suitability for the gig. He had a smooth and easy delivery. A perfect salesman type, but one of million-dollar projects, not used Edsels. He also, from what I could see, was as cut—especially for his age—as any of the young guys at the volleyball net. He was wearing a silver-gray-colored sports coat, but under that was a form-fitting black polo shirt. It all went perfectly well with the watery blue eyes, open smile, and perfectly cut gray hair.

The only incongruity I noticed, and I had no idea how to even ask about it, was that he was wearing close-fitting black-leather gloves. It didn’t seem to limit the dexterity of his hands, though. There had been no hesitation or awkwardness in picking up his beer glass. He seemed completely at home in the gloves. But I kept looking at those gloves as he talked.

I had no idea how I had gotten there. I was bound, naked, in a spread X, on my back, on a bondage table, my mouth gagged with a ball gag. A man in a devil’s mask çerkez escort and black cape, but otherwise naked except for black-leather gloves and a studded chest harness, was standing next to the table, hovering over me, slowly stroking my cock. His build was mature and I could see the gray hair above the devil’s mask, but his body was trim and well-muscled. He was hard, and what he was swinging was nothing to laugh at. I was already hard too and was raising my pelvis to the jacking, curling my trapped fingers and toes, and pulling hard at the bonds. Wanting to be free, but not for escape anymore. No, I wanted to do more in the sexual encounter. His stroking, going off beat now and then to make me shudder, was driving me crazy. Relentlessly stroking me, sending me high above the clouds. I came, but he didn’t stop stroking. He slowed down from the crescendo he’d reached, but he didn’t stop. It was painful at first, and I begged in muffled sounds through the gag for relief, but he didn’t stop, bringing me hard again and then to another ejaculation. Pulling on my cock with that gloved hand. No sense of the passage of time, knowing only that he had been at it for a long time. Starting for a third time . . .

He was mounting the bondage table, straddling my chest. He freed me of the ball gag, cupped my head in his hands, and presented his hard cock for sucking. The pubic hair nesting his cock was black with streaks of gray. Curly; smelt of musk. My chance to participate more in the sexual encounter.

“. . . specialty films, really.”

My attention came back to the present. Holland was leaning over the table, deeper into a sales pitch. It wasn’t a pitch he needed to give me. He had me at the fee quote—and the anticipation that it would be shown on TV. Commercials. Advertising I didn’t have to pay for, one way or the other. And in New York, payment in the entertainment world didn’t always come in the form of cash. If he wanted me to get up from this table and go with him to nail down the audition, I was prepared to go. I can’t say I didn’t want to go.

In the New York world, he’d said.

“Why Virginia Beach, down in Virginia?” I asked, not even aware of why I asked, but needing to get back into the conversation, needing not to reveal that I had been off into a disturbing fantasy. I was trying to keep my eyes off the tight-fitting black gloves. I thought that it would make him mad for me to draw attention them. But he was expressive when he talked. They were waving in front of my face. There was no way I could avoid looking at them.

“The Navy mostly—and production costs. Lots of naval presence here, and it’s actually cheaper to bring whoever we need down from New York or out from Los Angeles than to pay the New York or California production prices.”

Los Angeles. I ached to be in Los Angeles. In movies.

“The Navy? You do training films?”

“Yes, we do a lot of training films. Navy guys are naturals for that. That’s sort of what this film is about too. Demonstrating how the technique we’re showing is done.”

My attention was arrested by the volleyball game down on the beach. It had been disbanded. There were still two studly looking guys down there, though. One was backed up against a light pole at the edge of the sand, his arms drawn above his head and his fists clutching the stem of the pole above him. The other guy was leaning close in to him with ceyhan escort a hand on his waist, speaking low and seemingly intensely to the other guy. I was projecting the kiss—and was both titillated and surprised at the image occurring right out here on the open public beach. But they just stood there for a while and then both turned and walked off. They walked close together, though, the one guy’s arm around the waist of the other guy, holding him in close to the hip and giving the impression of having full control. Climbing the steps, walking to the entrance to the ocean-side lobby of the hotel next to where we were sitting. The two guys turned their eyes to each other. The face I could see was of the guy being led. There were mixed signals there, I thought. He turned back toward the ocean front at the door, almost as if he was going to pull back, walk away. There were two hands on his waist now, though, turning him back to the Hotel entrance, gently pushing him inside.

I was bound wrists and ankles, standing facing and bound to a Saint Andrew’s cross inside a room painted all in black. I was looking at a full-length mirror mounted on the wall across the room, so I could watch it all. I could see a mound of black material through the bottom of the legs of the cross that my legs were spread and bound to. The material spilled out around the edges of the cross limbs. It was moving, undulating, in a rhythm that I could feel all the way through my naked body. My cock had been pulled between my legs and was being sucked by an expert mouth—a mouth and throat that could take me deep and hold me inside, throbbing. Keep me gasping for breath. A hand laced my balls between its leather-covered fingers, pulling them out from my body and squeezing and rolling them. I got the full effect of my facial expressions through the V of the top of the cross—my mouth open and slack, my eyes slitted in combined pain and ecstasy. Breathing heavy, panting. I could clearly hear my own moans. My cock was free except that the hand worrying my balls had moved a gloved finger to encase the root of the staff. My entrance was being rimmed and flicked with a tongue. The tongue was pressing inside. The finger encircling the base of my cock tightened its squeeze. My balls were being rolled and pulled.

I could hear a voice murmuring weakly, “Fuck me. Please fuck me now.” I only belatedly realized that it was my own voice.

And the answering laugh. I could not get the raspy answering laugh out of my mind.

When I had come, the figure rose behind me, and the mask of a devil face, topped with silver-gray hair, appeared over my shoulder. A black-gloved hand cupped my chin and pulled my head back, as I felt another gloved hand cupping my buttocks and then helping to guide the cap of a hard cock at the rim of my hole. A long cock slid and slid and slid up into me. I felt the sliver studs of the chest harness rubbing on my back. I cried out my welcome—”Yes, yes, YES!”—and began moving my hips against the building plowing of the cock inside me, pulling at my bindings, wanting some form of control and way to signal that I didn’t need to be held captive to want this. A freeing that no form of begging was granting me.

“Excuse me. Exactly what sort of commercials are these?” I asked as I once more became aware of the film producer sitting across from me, leaning into me, smiling his mature Paul Newman smile, and, now, ceylan escort with a gloved hand on my thigh under the table, squeezing my thigh gently—in a rhythm that was reminiscent of the rhythm of the stroking in my St. Andrew’s cross fantasy.

“Not commercials, exactly. Commercial films. Ones that make very good money and that could give you exposure for larger roles in larger films.”

“I’m not sure I—”

I was getting the drift of this. Exposure. Exposure indeed. But I couldn’t form words to respond before he broke in, pressing the sell. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. The feel of that gloved hand on my thigh was robbing my brain of thought.

“It was Jake Plaugher who put us on to your agent. Jake Plaugher is a friend of ours. He’s made some films with his. I believe he is a special friend of yours too. Is that not so?”

Jake Plaugher. I tensed. He was saying that he knew what I let Jake Plaugher do to me. It wasn’t just that this man wanted me to go with him to audition on my back for a film gig.

His voice was low, almost singsong in texture, drawing me in. “In and out, in and out—the slide of the cock—coupled with the helpless pull at the bindings. That’s such a visual image, isn’t it? Just like these gloves are. You haven’t asked about the gloves. I wear them to provide a visual image of what might be, what is to come, what can be yours if you give yourself to me. And I’m a visual man.” Holland’s mature Paul Newman smile was mesmerizing, but something in the smile was changing. “And the image of giving over all control to another . . . to a real expert in the sensual . . . a man who can give you what you need . . .”

He didn’t finish that sentence. I had interjected a strangled moan, surfaced not only from the images he had spun but also from the black-gloved hand he had moved to my basket. I only then was aware that I had slid down on my chair, my tailbone at the front edge, to permit the hand, which had been slowly working its way up my thigh, to reach my crotch. I had raised one of my feet to his chair, resting it beside his rump, and he was gripping my ankle in his other gloved hand, holding it there, tightly, in thrall, for a brief moment. No matter how brief the moment, though, I felt the sense of the imprisonment, of the control he was asserting.

“Come,” Holland said, rising, and putting out his gloved hand. “The studio isn’t far from here. We can have you back on a plane to New York this evening. We’ve arranged for Jake Plaugher to meet you at JFK upon your return and to put you up for the night. I understand Jake has unusual ways to put you up. We can be just as inventive as Jake is, though—in fact, you might decide you are too exhausted to accept Jake’s offer. But it will be an exhaustion that leaves you humming. And, who knows, maybe you won’t want to return to New York at all.”

Hearing his raspy laugh—a shudderingly familiar laugh—at his own joke, I looked up into his face. Was this the face of the man I had sat down at the table with?

“Come be a part of our Halloween special. Come. I can fulfill your darkest fantasies—and immortalize them on film. You do have dark fantasies, don’t you?”

He knew. I could almost believe now that he had invoked them.

Seeing him now, the expression on his face, the change that had come into it, I wondered. The man in my fantasies. Was he wearing a mask at all in those fantasies—or was this the face of that man?

Trembling, I rose, and put my hand—and the next several hours of my time and freedom; only that, if I was lucky—in his black-leather gloved hand as he turned me with the other hand on my waist and guided me out of the café and into the backseat of a chauffeured black limousine.

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Chapter Twenty – Keeping It Real

What would they talk about? Aidan was dragging his feet a little as he walked from the car to the door. He knocked and waited patiently. In the silence of the evening, he could almost hear his heart beating fast. Nervously, he wiped his palms and smoothed down his suit in the process. He had a mind to turn on his heels and run away, no matter how childish that would look.

Heathcliff opened the door, terminating his internal debate. Aidan had troubles looking up.

“Come in,” Heathcliff said gently and made room for him to walk inside.

He still didn’t look at his host as he passed by him. Heathcliff didn’t make a move to grab him and kiss him the soonest the door was closed like on previous occasions. Instead, he was silent.

They were both silent, and Aidan could feel the quiet resting heavy on his shoulders. He needed to break it.

“I brought the, um, list. Feel free to look over it. This one comes straight from our research lab, as per protocol requirements. I think you will find there everything you need, but, of course, if you have any questions, or you need any assistance, I am available.”

He walked to the nearby table and placed his briefcase on it, to take out the paper and put it carefully on the shiny surface. Heathcliff was still not saying anything, and it was unnerving to be the only one babbling.

“I will look over it. But we have more pressing matters to discuss, about you and me,” Heathcliff eventually said.

Aidan didn’t reply. Instead, he fiddled with the list of ingredients, trying to make it sit flat, and smoothing down a turned corner. What would Heathcliff say next? That he considered their deal a mistake? Would he tease him again and have fun at his expense? Heathcliff wasn’t this cruel, at least not on purpose. Although he had known him for only a few weeks, Aidan was not so biased to hold anything against him that wasn’t true.

“First of all, I apologize.”

Aidan’s ears twitched. Had he heard right? “What for?” he managed to say with some difficulty.

“For teasing you. I see how that isn’t fair. Will you please forgive me?”

Heathcliff’s voice was even, slightly calculated, but seemed profoundly sincere.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I … well, I believe I exaggerated.”

“All right. I have a mind to tell you that maybe your reaction was warranted given the situation, but I won’t pretend that I know that better than you.”

Aidan turned to look at Heathcliff. “Where is Heathcliff Stone? Are you perhaps a doppelganger?”

Heathcliff began laughing. “Now who’s teasing who?”

Aidan smiled. He felt awkward enough without Heathcliff getting all serious. In a way, Heathcliff had never dealt with someone like Aidan, inexperienced, never having been in a relationship, and all that jazz. But the thought that he could be the one to make the famous influencer all serious and maybe a bit nervous seemed ludicrous. It was up to him to diffuse the situation.

“I’m sorry I walked out. Just that … Can I just ask for one thing?”

“Sure,” Heathcliff replied.

There was plenty of distance between them, but Aidan could sense Heathcliff’s presence, filling the room, like it was all around. It didn’t feel overpowering, but reassuring and comfortable in a way.

“Let’s just keep it real. We have a deal, right? I mean, we’re both getting what we want without any of these … complications. I know you’re a natural teaser, and it’s not fair of me to tell you this, but could you please stop teasing me?”

“Done,” was the curt reply.

“Um, okay,” Aidan said.

Why did he feel disappointed? Wasn’t it what he wanted, for Heathcliff to stop telling him he liked him without meaning it? Maybe he wanted Heathcliff to tell him he liked him while meaning it. But that was not possible. So he needed to settle for this.

“But I want something in return,” Heathcliff said.

“Of course.”

“I want you to tell me what you would like to get from this deal of ours. So far, it has been only about me and what I wanted. I want to hear you speak up.”

Aidan blushed. “Um, I’m not sure -“

“Are you comfortable sleeping here most nights? Do you want your weekends to be free of me? Are there things we did that you’re not comfortable with? Should I stop calling you bunny boy?”

“No!” Aidan almost slapped one hand over his mouth. “I mean, I have nothing against you calling me whatever you want.”

“Even if it’s Sparky?” Heathcliff wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

Aidan rolled his eyes. “Maybe we could do without Sparky. The other things, I guess they’re fine, too.”

“You guess?” Heathcliff looked him right in the eyes. “You should be sure.”

Heathcliff was only fair, but it was hard for Aidan to go ahead and admit what he wanted. For as long as Heathcliff had been the one to push the boundaries between them, he had been so busy trying to build fortifications made of sand that he had forgotten what his heart truly cumra escort wanted.

His heart just had to suck it up, but that didn’t make Aidan feel like less of a fraud. He was like a burglar sneaking inside a house, riding the fridge, stealing the valuables, and ready to bolt at the first sign of a key twisting in the door. An honest person would have admitted to his feelings. Aidan was afraid to do that. As much as nice a person Heathcliff seemed to be, being told by some inexperienced guy that he was his crush could not make him too happy. Or worse, it could make him feel entitled to Aidan’s feelings without returning anything more than a bit of teasing.

He looked ahead with confidence he didn’t actually have. “I am sure. I enjoy spending time with you, Stone. There are worse ways to spend my time, I guess.”

Now he behaved like an entitled brat. Were he Heathcliff, he would send himself packing that very moment. Yet, nothing of the kind happened. He risked one straight look at his host, and his heart beat faster.

It wasn’t only that Heathcliff was handsome. That was a given, and Aidan knew that. What he didn’t realize was that Heathcliff could smile like that. It wasn’t a smirk or a satisfied grin. It was … He had no idea how to describe it. It made him feel like he was the only one for Heathcliff, that very moment. There wasn’t one ounce of teasing in that smile. Only fondness, with a dash of melancholy. It suited him, and it was not the first time that Aidan thought Heathcliff deserved his very romantic monicker, given by his mom.

It was intense, too, even in its endearing undertones, and Aidan had to keep himself from walking over to him and wrap his arms around him.

Damn. The thing he feared most had happened anyway. He was falling, and maybe he hadn’t yet hit rock bottom, but if things went like that, that would happen sooner rather than later.

But maybe it wasn’t so bad, Aidan thought, as they continued to look at each other, without feeling for a moment that the silence between them was awkward or anything like that. He deserved a first love, after all, and, while maybe it wouldn’t be heroic like in some tragic love story, it would definitely be hopeless.

“Would you like something to eat?” Heathcliff was the first to speak.

What could he complain about? They would just keep it real. And the fact that Aidan was secretly crushing on his bed partner of convenience would be well kept under wraps. In the meantime, he could just as well enjoy himself.

“What’s cooking?” he said playfully.

“Come with me, and you will see.” Heathcliff offered his hand, and Aidan hurried to take it. “Then we’ll sleep. I believe I tortured you enough.”

Aidan wanted to protest, but he felt a bit drained. Maybe playing around with your crush was meant to be exhausting.

***

Heathcliff had a mind to congratulate himself for keeping from shouting from the top of his lungs how cute Aidan was and tell him again how much he liked him. But the series of trials was just starting. Even if Michael had told him he could have fun with his bunny boy in the bedroom, he believed it a sign of good faith only to keep his hands and other wandering parts of his anatomy away from Aidan’s delicious rump. At least, for the time being. Bunny boy had to come and tell him directly what he wanted. If that meant waiting for who knew how long, he felt brave enough to do so without complaining.

“Heath,” Aidan called hesitantly, “are we just going to sleep?”

“Yes,” he replied promptly.

“All right. Just checking.”

Aidan could not hide the disappointment in his voice at all, and that was more than satisfying. Bunny boy needed to show that he wanted to be with him, too. That meant he needed to voice his desires, loud and clear.

With that decision in mind, Heathcliff leaned over and kissed Aidan quickly on the cheek. “Good night, Aidan,” he said softly.

“Good night,” Aidan replied and sighed right away.

Heathcliff pretended not to notice. Aidan had the ball in his court. Now he needed to learn how to play without a coach since that was his decision.

He was almost asleep when a timid hand came to rest on top of his. Good thing Aidan could not see him smiling. Maybe that was the rule to apply with shy pets. A good owner knew to let them get accustomed to the environment and their master in due course.

It would be painful to sleep in the same bed with that handsome young man. But Heathcliff had always been ambitious. If that were what had to be done, he would embrace it without protests or delays.

***

Heathcliff woke up without the clock as he never had problems with oversleeping. He would follow the routine of preparing breakfast after his focusing exercises for the day and then wake up Aidan, too.

That sounded like a plan, but Aidan was wrapped entirely around him, one arm and one leg thrown over him, in a very possessive gesture. He wanted to laugh so hard, but he would dalaman escort wake up the sleeping beauty in his bed if he were to do that.

Aidan’s head rested on his shoulder, and Heathcliff turned very slowly, trying to get a good look at him. What could he have seen in guys like the Matts and Hans of the world? Aidan was really beautiful, and somehow Heathcliff was thankful that others hadn’t noticed the same thing. Of course, advertising experts would have said that Aidan’s face was a bit too soft to be manly, that his eyes weren’t piercing or magnetic, and the average boy next door look never really sold anything.

But Heathcliff found that look perfect. Aidan would grow into a manlier version of himself, as his body was strong and his muscles were harmonious. For now, he was a cute bunny, and Heathcliff wanted nothing more than to watch him grow. He had a feeling he would love all the different versions of his sweet bunny boy.

Now, though, there was the pressing matter of leaving the bed without waking Aidan up. He first took one hand gently and pushed it away, placing it carefully by Aidan’s side. The leg was more difficult, and, when he touched it, Aidan just wrapped it tightly around his, and threw his arm over his chest again.

Heathcliff chuckled, but the laughter died the moment Aidan pushed his knee higher and began rubbing it against his crotch.

Well, that wasn’t planned. Heathcliff needed to be proactive. Aidan murmured something in his sleep and moved his hand, too, finding quick purchase in Heathcliff’s naked pec. Maybe sleeping in just a pair of shorts hadn’t been that great an idea. Aidan began squeezing Heathcliff’s chest and sighed happily.

Had it been anyone else, Heathcliff would have suspected some foul play. But this was Aidan, even more innocent in his sleep than when awake, seeing how much he wanted to project the image of a perfect yuppie that wasn’t fazed by anything.

He was a simple man, after all. Between the knee pushing against his crotch and the hand giving his pec a sensuous slow massage, his cock was getting hard. So he tried to move on one side, taking Aidan’s hand from his pec with as much gentleness as he could manage.

The moment he turned toward his bed partner, Aidan’s head rested against his chest. Heathcliff caressed the soft chestnut hair slowly, and Aidan made a small sound of contentment.

He was about to call for bunny boy and wake him up when he felt bold lips latching against one of his nipples. Heathcliff sighed. And he had wanted so much to behave.

***

Pleasant dreams were not that common, and he could not remember dreaming too often. This one was particularly nice, no, actually, pretty awesome, as he had Heathcliff entirely at his disposal, and the man was encouraging him to do as he pleased.

Aidan didn’t know he had a particular obsession with male nipples, but he wanted to taste Heathcliff so much. Seeing how the dream version of the fitness guru was not the usual domineering character from real life, Aidan thought it better to indulge as much as he could.

“Aidan, wake up,” a stern voice called for him.

After several seconds of utter confusion, he eventually opened his eyes. He blinked and gasped, seeing Heathcliff hovering over him, with a serious expression etched on his face.

“Oh, is it late?” Aidan shook his head, trying to get rid of that naughty dream from earlier.

Heathcliff had one leg between his and was pressing against his semi. Aidan had to rethink that. It wasn’t a semi, it was a full-blown erection, and Heathcliff rubbing it like that only made the situation more difficult for him.

“Were you dreaming something?” Heathcliff eyed him suspiciously.

“Earth to Stone, am I late for work?” Aidan protested, then blushed and quickly looked away.

The only way to deal with that man was to pretend he wasn’t disturbed by anything, including a muscular thigh torturing his aching cock.

“No, that you’re not.” From Heathcliff’s voice, Aidan could tell he was amused. “But I must ask: have you been weaned recently or you were just dreaming of sucking my tits?”

Aidan was sure his face was going through various shades of purple that very instant. “Are you pulling my leg, Stone?”

“C’mon, bunny boy, it’s a simple question. What were you dreaming about?”

“I wasn’t dreaming of anything! I mean, how many people recall what they dream? Not too many.”

“Well, let me fill in the gaps,” Heathcliff said and moved his thigh against Aidan’s cock again, making him grunt. “I was trying to wake up, see about my business, and a certain cute pet was all over me.”

Aidan was now pretty horrified with his lack of self-control. Heathcliff could lie, but while that was possible, it wasn’t also probable. He had thought his dream was a bit too vivid. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t ‘sorry’ me, bunny boy,” Heathcliff said slowly, his voice snakelike and hypnotizing. “I wanted so much to be good, datça escort and let you sleep while I went to make breakfast, and there you were, a knee in my balls, one hand over one tit, and your mouth on the other, sucking on it like you were expecting it to give milk.”

“Oh, fuck,” Aidan closed his eyes. “Could you just go about your business and let me here to drown in my own shame?”

“No can do, cutie.” Heathcliff laughed. “You teased the hell out of me, and now you’re going to assume responsibility.”

Aidan opened one eye. “What do you have in mind?”

“I have something for you to suck that will not let your efforts go to waste.”

Aidan gulped. “Do you want me to suck your cock?”

“Of course I do. Let me rephrase that. You’re not leaving the bed until you do.”

“Okay,” Aidan replied with more enthusiasm than he wanted to show.

Heathcliff was quick to move and straddle his chest. His cock pulled free from his shorts, he used it now to tap a playful rhythm against his lips. Aidan put his tongue out and began licking the head to the best of his abilities.

He liked Heathcliff’s taste, and he had just teased the guy before when talking about acquired tastes and whatnot. Now he could use this opportunity to taste to his heart’s content.

Heathcliff adjusted his position so that he could pump his cock inside Aidan’s mouth in a slow rhythm. Aidan enjoyed this a lot, especially since he could sneak his hands under Heathcliff’s shorts and play with his muscular ass.

Fleetingly, he wondered what Heathcliff would do if he found Aidan one morning trying to hump him dry. Would he offer his ass then? People could dream, Aidan concluded and put his energy and enthusiasm into sucking the delicious cock in his mouth like it was the tastiest lollipop he’d ever tried.

Heathcliff was moving his hips slowly, and Aidan could tell that he was trying to avoid pushing too much. Aidan felt a bit disappointed in himself for not being able to swallow the hard cock deeper. So he used his tongue to lick everywhere and hopefully enhance the sensations for the other.

At the same time, he could feel his cock aching from too much mental stimulation. Nothing and no one was touching it right now, and he could not reach it anyway. For now, he needed to focus on the other’s pleasure, as hard as that was.

He squeezed Heathcliff’s ass cheeks, imposing the rhythm he felt comfortable with. It looked like Heathcliff wasn’t bothered with being handled. Maybe Heathcliff was using him to get off, but Aidan knew that it was a fantasy come true to suck off the man that he had been crushing on for a while now. Preferably, he would do it in all possible positions, and this one was great since he could play with Heathcliff’s ass.

Could he dare? He didn’t have enough leverage from his position to be too daring, so he settled for moving his hands lower and touch Heathcliff’s taint with his fingertips. A small grunt from above told him he was doing the right thing.

Heathcliff was as sensitive there as he was, and that thought was making him happy. At some point, he would ask Heathcliff to let him touch more. For now, he hoped he would get off Heathcliff, and maybe he would get a handjob in return.

“You’re so good, Aidan,” Heathcliff praised him.

Aidan moved his hands, still partially busy with teasing the taint, but one eventually reached Heathcliff’s balls and wrapped around their base, pulling backward. Heathcliff’s breathing grew quicker, and his hips moved a bit erratically. Aidan released the tight balls in his hand to let them slap a little against his chin.

Without deepthroating all the way, he was getting better at this, he thought and shuddered as Heathcliff began to spurt inside his mouth thick ropes of tasty cum. He swallowed as he could, and let the excess flow down his chin and on his chest.

Heathcliff finally pulled away and took a look at him. Aidan was breathing hard, and he was sure he looked like a mess, but at this point, he couldn’t be made to care.

“Wow, bunny boy, just wow,” Heathcliff said with a broad grin. “I was right to tell you were a fast learner. Look at you, taking my cock like a champ. We’ll work on that swallowing technique, but you look pretty damned good like this, so I can’t complain. Do you mind if I hit the shower first really quick?”

Aidan nodded, and then he frowned. What the hell? Was he getting nothing? He looked down at his own cock, no way near getting soft, and tenting his shorts.

“What’s the matter, bunny boy?” Heathcliff asked, in his signature teasing voice. “Do you want to say something?”

Aidan threw him a murderous look and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I mean, like what the hell?”

“What do you mean?” Heathcliff raised his eyebrows, and his eyes were laughing even more than his mouth.

“I’m hard!” Aidan pointed out and grabbed his cock.

“And? You have to say it loud and clear, bunny boy.”

Aidan felt his courage fading. He blushed furiously, looked away, and eventually said, “Suck me off, too.”

“Louder, I don’t think I heard you,” Heathcliff said with a small laugh.

Aidan revolted. “Stone, I’m going to stuff your mouth with my cock until you choke.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a promise.”

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

Warnung: Diese Geschichte ist eine reine Wichs-Geschichte, fürs schnelle Dampfablassen zwischendurch. Keine großarige Handlung, kurz und hoffentlich geil zu lesen.

Der erste Teil einiger kurzer Sexgeschichten, die im selben Haus spielen und sich später (vielleicht) überschneiden.

Die geilste Mama der Welt

Es gibt Tage, da finde ich es echt geil ein Einzelkind zu sein. Und die gibt es in letzter Zeit nur noch. Denn ich muss die geile Fotze, mit der ich zusammenlebe mit niemandem teilen.

Doch erstmal möchte ich schildern wie es dazu kam.

Nach einem harten Arbeitstag kam ich Freitagabend nach Hause. Nachdem ich in die großräumige Wohnung hineinrief … keine Antwort. Seltsam, dachte ich. Mama ist doch Abends quasi immer daheim.

Aber nach dem Tag war mir fast alles egal. Ich wollte nur unter die Dusche und mir dann ordentlich einen abwichsen.

Also kurz unters erfrischend kühle Wasser, alles abreiben, abtrocknen und halbnackt auf mein Zimmer. Dort machte ich es mir auf dem Bett gemütlich und schaute so im Netz, was es denn auf meiner Lieblingspornoseite so für geile Filmchen gab.

Schon vorweg streifte ich meine Unterhose ab und wichste mir mit der einen Hand den Prügel steif, während die andere noch mit der Fernbedienung suchte.

Schnell fand ich einen richtig geilen Streifen, der genau nach meinem Geschmack war: Kurz, direkt zur Sache und schön versaut. Eine richtig knackige Enddreißigerin mit offensichtlich gemachten Brüsten wurde von zwei jungen Kerlen richtig gefickt. Erst Doggy, wobei sich der zweite erst um ihr Titten kümmerte und sie dann in den Rachen fickte. Dann wechselten sie zur Sandwich-Stellung und kamen schließlich auf ihren Arsch und auf ihre großen OP-Titten.

Das war zu viel. Mit einem Grunzen schoss ich meine Sahne über meinen ganzen Bauch.

Ein Räuspern von der Tür ließ mich erstarren.

Ich drehte wie in Zeitlupe den Kopf in die Richtung und wusste, dass es meine Mutter sein musste, die mich gerade beim wichsen erwischt hatte.

Und ja, ich lag richtig. Aber womit ich nie gerechnet hatte war, wie sie mich erwischte. Also genauer: Was sie anhatte.

Meine Mama trug nur einen schwarzen Spitzen-BH und einen dazu passenden Slip. Sie zeigte viel Haut von ihrem geilen, knackigen Körper. Die drei Tage Fitnessstudio die Woche zahlten sich offenbar aus, denn so eine geile 38-Jährige sah man selten, außer in Pornofilmen. Ihre D-Körbchen Titten wurden von dem BH super in Szene gesetzt, dabei war das nicht mal ein Push-Up.

Sie fuhr sich mit der Hand durch die gelockten, blonden Haare. „Na sieh mal einer an”, schnurrte sie verführerisch. „Da hatte wohl jemand ganz schön Druck drauf.”

Sie kicherte verspielt und deutete schulmädchenhaft mit dem Finger in meine Richtung. „Beziehungsweise ‘hat’ noch Druck.”

Erst jetzt löste ich meinen Blick von ihrem herrlichen Anblick. Mein Schwanz stand immer noch (oder wieder?) stahlhart von meinem Körper ab.

Ich versuchte ihn mit den Händen zu verdecken, da griff eine Hand nach meinem Arm. „Aber, aber. Einen so schönen Schwanz sollte man nicht verstecken.” Meine Mama legte sich neben mir aufs Bett, sodass ihr Körper meinen Berühre. „Im Gegenteil. So einen Schwanz sollte Ankara escort man teilen. Und da außer mir gerade keiner zum Teilen da ist …” Sie schmunzelte und gab mir einen Schmatzer auf die Wange.

Mit ihrer rechten Hand streichelte sie an meinem Bauch entlang, umrundete mein ausgefahrenes Rohr und legte ihre zarten Finger auf meinen Eiern ab. „Na, die fühlen sich aber echt prall an. Wie oft spritzt du so am Tag?”

Ich lief rot an. Die Situation war zwar höllisch geil, aber meiner Mutter einfach sagen wie oft ich mich am Tag erleichterte? Das war seltsam.

„So drei- … viermal.”

„Och Schätzchen, das muss dir echt nicht peinlich sein. Meine Dildosammlung verwende ich auch jeden Tag … mehrmals.” Sie zwinkerte mir zu. Ihre Hand fing langsam an meine Eier zu kneten.

Ich sah sie verdattert an. „Aber du hast doch Gert.” Das war ihr ‘Freund’ oder wie ich es eher nannte: Fickkumpel. Der kam zweimal die Woche zu uns, aß mit uns Abendbrot, begleitete Mama ins Schlafzimmer und war am nächsten Tag weg.

„Ja, mein Kleiner”, sagte sie und kam mit ihren Lippen immer näher an mein Gesicht. „Aber der hat auch nicht immer Zeit. Und wenn ich gewusst hätte, dass so ein geiler, stattlich gebauter Mann direkt neben mir lebt.”

Sie gab mir einen kurzen Kuss auf die Lippen. Dabei fing ihre Hand langsam an meinen Schaft rauf und runter zu wichsen.

„Du hast immer so desinteressiert an allem Sexuellen gewirkt. Wenn du mir gesagt hättest, dass du dauernd Spitz wie Lumpi bist, dann wäre das hier schon viel früher passiert.”

Ich schluckte. „Echt?”

Mama nickte. Und wie zur Bestätigung küsste sie mich erneut. Diesmal mit Zunge.

Ihre Lippen fühlten sich schon wundervoll weich an, aber sie wirklich schmecken zu können … Unbeschreiblich.

Langsam erwachte mein erstarrter Körper. Ich fing vorsichtig an ihre zarte Haut am Rücken und Bauch zu streicheln.

Aber das war gar nichts zu dem Tempo, das Mama im Kopf hatte. Sie löste ihren Kuss, drehte sich etwas und begann an meiner Eichel zu lecken. Ihre samtige Zunge umkreiste das Löchlein und wanderte kreisend den Schaft hinab.

Dann nahm sie plötzlich meinen Schwanz in den Mund. Mit einem mal steckte ich zur Hälfte im Mund meiner Mama.

Ich hatte schon mit drei Frauen Sex, zwei Freundinnen und einer Barbekanntschaft. Jede von ihnen hat mir einen geblasen. Aber das, was meine eigene Mama da mit mir machte, das war besser als die anderen drei zusammen.

„Oh Mama”, keuchte ich. Mehr brachte ich nicht hervor. Ich vergrub meine Hand in ihre goldigen Locken und streichelte sie hinterm Ohr.

Mama ließ sich nicht beirren und nahm Zentimeter um Zentimeter mehr von meinem Schwanz in sich auf. Die ganze Zeit über leckte ihre Zunge meisterhaft um meine Eichel, drang unter den Rand der Krone, spielte dann mit dem Vorhautbändchen und rieb schließlich kräftig am Schaft.

Ich wusste nicht wie mir geschah.

Plötzlich fühlte ich eine bittere Kälte an meinem Pimmel. Mama hatte mich aus ihrem feuchtfröhlichen Mund entlassen und lehnte sich zu mir hoch. Unsere Zungen spielten als sie mich küsste. Derweil ließ sie meinen Schwanz nicht zu kurz kommen und rieb ihn wie ein Engelchen (oder eher Escort Ankara Teufelchen?) mit ihren delikaten Fingerspitzen.

Meine Hände blieben nicht untätig und walkten an ihren geilen, festen und doch weichen Titten herum.

Sie löste den Kuss und lächelte. „Da ist wohl aber geil auf Mamis Möpse. Soll ich mal schauen wie wohl sich dein Riemen zwischen ihnen fühlt?”

Mit Augen groß wie Teller nickte ich schnell.

Mama gab mir einen kurzen Kuss auf die Nasenspitze und rückte dann abwärts. Sie nahm meinen Schwanz einmal kurz in den Mund, feuchtete ihn richtig an.

Dann spuckte sie in ihre Hand und verteilte den Speichel großzügig zwischen ihren Eutern.

Das Gefühl der ersten Berührung zwischen meinem Schwanz und Mamas Titten werde ich nie vergessen. Sie waren so herrlich weich, zarter als jeder Samt. Und das beste: Es waren MAMAS TITTEN. Der psychische Rausch war stärker als alle Vernunft und obwohl ich noch nicht in Position war, begann ich wild zwischen die Möpse zu bocken.

„Oh”, keuchte Mama. „Da ist aber jemand ganz versessen auf einen schönen Tittenfick. Na, dann will ich mal nicht so sein.”

Sie brachte sich in Position über mir. Ich stieß von unten in ihren wunderbaren Tittenschlitz während sie sich rhythmisch dagegen bewegte. In dieser Harmonie geriet ich langsam in einen totalen Rauschzustand.

Ich keuchte immer schwerer. „Oh Gott!”

Mama hörte sofort auf sich zu bewegen. „Bist du kurz davor, mein Kleiner?” Dabei löste sie ihre Euter von mir und griff mir mit ihrer Hand zärtlich an die Wange.

„Ja! Warum hörst du auf?” Völlig verwirrt sah ich zu ihr runter.

Sie grinste. „Ich dachte du würdest mich vielleicht auch gern ficken wollen.

Wieder machte ich große Augen. „E-echt? Du würdest mich dich echt …?”

„Was heißt würde?” Sie küsste mich kurz und positionierte sich mit Lichtgeschwindigkeit über meiner Latte. Die zart rosa schimmernde Fotze von Mama schwebte nur Zentimeter über den harten Schwanz ihres Sohnes. „Bereit?”, fragte sie.

Ich brachte kein Wort heraus. Mit angehaltenem Atem sah ich zu wie Muschi und Pimmel immer näher rückte. Immer näher, bis …

Wir stöhnten zusammen, als sich ihre Fotze langsam um meinen Schwanz stülpte. Wie ferngesteuert griffen meine nach oben an ihre Euter und suchten verzweifelt halt, sonst hätte mich die Welle an Glücksgefühlen sicher weggeschwemmt.

„Mhhhhh”, stöhnte Mama und blickte mir in die Augen. Ich sah eine Mischung aus Neugier und Lust in ihrem Blick. „Ist das dein erstes Mal?”

Ich schüttelte den Kopf

Sie lächelte verschlagen, beugte sich vor und küsste mich wild. „Mit wem hattest du es denn?”

„Vera.”

„Oh ha.” Sie grinste noch breiter. „Die dralle kleine Rothaarige? Ja, die ist schon ein ordentliches Kaliber. Aber jetzt zeigt dir Mama mal, was eine richtige Frau so alles kann.”

Meine Mama setzte sich wieder gerade hin und fing an sich auf meinem Schwanz hoch und runter gleiten zu lassen. Das Tempo wurde immer höher. Irgendwann war aber Schluss und um noch schneller, fester und tiefer in sie einzudringen bockte ich kräftig nach oben.

Sie stöhnte und fasste sich mit einer Hand an das Euter, das ich nicht gerade Escort Bayan mit den Händen knetete.

Dann beugte sie sich vor und präsentierte mir ihre Titte. „Komm, lutsch an ihnen. Das macht mich immer ganz wuschig.”

So einen Wunsch konnte kein Mann abschlagen, schon gar nicht während dem Ficken und erst recht nicht bei einer Frau wie meiner Mama. Also beugte ich mich vor und nahm ihren schönen Nippel in den Mund.

Ich saugte während meine Zunge mit der Brustwarze spielte. Mama keuchte immer heftiger. Auch ich krallte meine Finger nicht mehr in ihre zweite Titte, sondern in ihren Hintern.

Es wurde alles zu viel. Totale Reizüberflutung. Ich hatte die Titte meiner Mama im Mund, fickte ihre Fotze und grapschte ihr völlig hemmungslos an den Knackarsch.

Mit einem traurigen Plopp ließ ich ihren Nippel los. „Ich bin gleich soweit”, keuchte ich.

Mama sah mir genau ins Gesicht. „Wo willst du dich erleichtern?”

Ich blickte sie kurz hilfesuchend an, nicht ganz begreifend, was ich für Optionen hatte.

Sie aber wusste genau, was ich mir wünschte. „Du möchtest mir alles auf die Titten spritzen, nicht? Ich weiß es doch. Komm, stell dich aufs Bett.”

Mit einem Mal wurde es um meinen Schwanz ganz kalt. Aber ich hatte keine Zeit Mamas Muschi zu vermissen. Ich konnte nur noch daran denken ihre großen Euter mit meiner Sahne zu verzieren.

Ich platzierte mich auf dem Bett. Vor mir kniete Mama. Mit einer Hand griff sie an mein Rohr und wichste kräftig, routiniert. Mit der anderen Hand hielt sie die Titten hoch und presste sie dabei zusammen. Ihre Möpse waren schon von Natur aus ein echter Hingucker, aber so übertrafen sie jeden Pornostar zu dem ich je gewichst hatte.

„Ist schon ok, mein Kleiner. Du musst dich nicht zurückhalten. Lass es raus. Wichs mir schön auf die Titten.”

Mit großem Druck schoss mein erster Strahl aus der Eichel. Er landete genau im Schlitz ihrer Titten. Die restlichen, die ich keuchend hervor presste ließ sie auf die schönen Hügel und ihre Nippel tropfen.

„So ist es gut. Jetzt geht’s dir besser, nicht?”

Ich nickte verlegen. „D-danke Mama.”

Sie grinste. In ihren Augen lag ein teuflisches Funkeln. „Aber nichts zu danken. Von nun an komm einfach zu mir, wenn der Druck mal wieder groß wird. Jederzeit.”

„Aber was ist mit Gert?”, fragte ich erstaunt. „Der wird das sicher nicht gut hießen. Vor allem, weil …”

„Pscht!” Sie ließ meinen Schwanz los und legte die leicht mit Sperma überzogenen Finger auf ihre Lippen. „Der ist unwichtig. Außerdem, wenn ich dir dabei helfen kann und noch dazu so geil gefickt werden, dann ist Gert sowieso überflüssig.”

Sie lutschte lasziv meine Wichse von ihrem Finger. Dann tauchte sie sie in die Soße auf ihren Brüsten und leckte weiter. „Von nun an gehöre ich dir. Und deinem Schwanz.”

Gemütlich zog sie sich wieder die Unterwäsche an. Dass sie immer noch Sperma auf den Brüsten hatte, die jetzt ihren BH vollsauten war ihr offenbar egal.

Ich legte mich auf mein Bett.

Ganz in ihrer Rolle kam Mama zum Kopfende des Bettes und küsste mich sanft auf die Stirn, dann auf die Lippen.

„Ruh dich schön aus, mein Kleiner. Morgen möchte ich deinen Schwanz in meinem engen Arsch spüren.”

***

Mögliche Fortsetzungen:

Die geilste Tochter der Welt

Die geilste Oma der Welt

Die geilsten Zwillinge der Welt

***

Ich hoffe, es hat euch gefallen. Lasst mich bei Interesse gerne wissen, was ihr als Fortsetzung lesen wollt.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Shortly after arriving back at my house, exhausted from my ordeal, I receive a text from an unknown number –

Don’t forget, 8:00… I’ll be waiting – Accompanied by a picture

Looking back at me from my screen is the good doctor wearing nothing but stockings and a grin.

This is all it takes for the hours of frustrated lust to come pouring back into my body as I tear off my clothes, grab my favorite lube, and start stroking myself like a madman. I quickly race to the edge of a much-needed orgasm, my balls crying with need. I stroke harder and harder, faster and faster, twisting my palm as I rub over all my most sensitive spots, but find that I cannot get over the edge. I don’t know for how long I keep crashing into that impossible wall, not being able to go over it, but eventually I lie on my bed exhausted and fall asleep.

At about 6:00, I am awoken by an incoming text. No message this time, just a picture of Dr. O’Morgas from her supple lips to her creamy cleavage. I look at the clock and jump into the shower. If I hurried, I would just make it on time. I don’t know what is in store for me, but I am sure that it has to be better than driving myself crazy all night.

I arrive at her door a few minutes early, shaking with nervous energy and pent up desire. I ring the bell and wait.

Watching the door slowly open, I am greeted by nothing less than an erotic dream. Before me stood my sexy doctor in a translucent robe, her luscious body and sexy lingerie like a ghost through the fabric.

I had no words.

She smirks at her effect on me and takes me in by the arm, drawing herself close to me as I walk through the door. Her perfume was already making my head spin as I stumble to say, “Wow, doc…um… you look amazing,” my voice catching in my throat.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” she seems to purr in response as she drags a single fingernail down the side of my neck. “Let’s take a look at you…”

“You know,” she says, as she slowly starts to unbutton my shirt, “I haven’t seen many people as…. let’s say…responsive as you.”

My skin is already tingling as she opens my shirt, making sure to tease every bit of newly uncovered skin with her pointed fingernails.

She gives me a lusty smile as her eyes fall on my cock, clearly erecting in my pants.

“Mmmmm…. I just love a man who responds to my touch so well. It makes me want to see just how much you can take.”

My shirt fully off, she takes me by the hand and leads me to her bedroom.

I follow her like a lost puppy, my senses already overwhelmed, and I can think of nothing but her hand on my skin. The sway of her firm ass and the line of her thigh-high clad legs that tempt me through her robe have me transfixed as we make our way up the stairs.

As soon as we enter her well-decorated and dimly lit bedroom, she pulls me in for the hottest, longest kiss I have ever experienced. The kind of kiss that leaves you breathless after it is done and that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing. Our hands begin roaming each other’s bodies. I feel like I am on fire, the day’s build up taking its toll on my nervous system.

She pushes me onto my back on the bed and slowly removes her bra and panties. I can only stare as my heart pounds in my chest, my breathing still shallow from the kiss.

She crawls up the bed like liquid sex and presses her body against mine.

“Oh god, Honey, today had me so hot!” she starts to say, her fingers brushing against my skin, running up and down my body, occasionally drawing a little circle with her nail around a nipple. “I was just replaying in my mind all the wonderful things your poor cock experienced, and I had to touch myself… all afternoon… but here’s the thing, I didn’t let myself cum. Oh no… I wanted you to do that for me, so I just teased, and teased… and teased…”

Her sexy words and devilish fingers make me squirm as she continues.

“And now I am all turned on…” Looking deep into my eyes, her voice throaty and dripping with lust, she asks, “Think you can help me with that?”

My heart is pounding out of my chest as I nod. As quickly as I can nod in agreement, she is straddling my face, her knees by my ears and her glistening swollen pussy above my mouth. I feel her feet over my shoulders, holding me in place and giving me a sense of helplessness that seems to increase my need.

She takes my hands and places them on her breasts as I lick her folds. My tongue finding the places and movements that bring the biggest gasps and the sexiest mewls from her. She keeps her hands on mine as they massage and caress her breasts. In no time, I can feel her body beginning to tremble above me.

I lick her to what appear to be two huge orgasms, her hands clutching mine on her breasts as her body convulses and explodes in pleasure. She leans down for a kiss and thanks me for the wonderful orgasms before sliding lower and pulling off my pants. My erection springs free, the tip already wet with a drop of precum.

“I want you to show me how I made you feel today” she purrs into my ear, “Show me what I made you want to do to me.”

I flip her onto her back and thrust into her. Her still dripping pussy taking my length, surrounding and squeezing me in its heavenly grip. Like a wild animal released from its cage I take her with overwhelming urgency and intensity. My own lust building and building as I feel her have orgasm after orgasm on me, her tightness clenching around me, squeezing and milking my cock. I feel myself approaching the edge over and over, each frustrated orgasm just increasing the passion of my movements. I roll her over and take her from behind, my thrusts feeling more and more desperate as I am unable to quench my building thirst for orgasm.

After several more orgasms rip through her, she rolls me onto my back and begins to ride me. Instead of my frenzied pace, she takes a slow and sensual approach. Her feet wrap over my thighs, so I am unable to thrust up into her with the speed I want; I am moaning and writhing beneath her and my hands reach for her hips over and over to speed the pace.

Eventually, she takes my hands and holds them over my head, continuing to slowly glide up and down on my begging cock. This new, helpless position has me whimpering and she seems to feed off of my helplessness, kissing my neck and licking my ear. Her moans in my ear only fuel my helpless desire and she again cums on me, finally collapsing on my chest.

It takes me a few minutes to realize that she has stopped moving, but my cock is still pulsing inside her, sending additional shockwaves of pleasure through her fully sated body and eliciting a satisfied moan.

As I start to calm, I go to put my arms around her and discover that they are stuck… Distracted by the sensual torment, I somehow missed her placing them in cuffs that were at the ready, trapping me on her bed…

She can see the panic set into my eyes as I realize that more erotic torments await me.

“Oh god, professor…. Please let me up… I don’t think I can take much more after today.”

She smiles at me as she drags her fingers down my torso.

“Well, that is why you are tied, Honey. Besides, I am sure you are tougher than you think…”

I groan in response and tug at my restraints.

“Oh, Sweetie” she smiles, “those have held men much stronger than you. You aren’t going anywhere until I am done with you. You see, there is little that I love more than exciting a man, finding all the things that get him worked up, and using that knowledge to turn him into a squirming, begging ball of lust. And now that I am quite satisfied, I can give you alllll of my attention.”

Her body slides down the bed, her legs wrapping around one of mine until she is face to face with my still throbbing erection. Looking me deep in the eyes, she drags her tongue up my length, flicks my frenulum a few times, causing me to gasp, and then slowly draws her tongue down to my base again.

“You know…” she starts, as she continues slow licks up and down my shaft, “I just love giving head…” her tongue makes another slow slide bottom to top, “…but usually, the poor saps I blow end up ruining my fun by shooting their load too soon. Lucky for me you won’t have that problem. I can just lick…” she swipes across my head with her tongue, “and suck…” she takes me deep into her mouth, “and tease the fuck out of this cock until I have had my fill…”

“Ohhhhhh… please…” I half gasp and half moan as she demonstrates her oral prowess, using her tongue, lips, mouth, and throat to totally redefine blowjobs for me. She is causing me to experience sensations that I can only describe as other-worldly, and under normal circumstances would have me bursting in seconds flat, but instead, I can only writhe and moan as she explores my cock. She can read my reactions like a psychic and seems to find the motions and touches that shoot unprecedented levels of arousal through my body. When she discovers any area of weakness, she attacks it relentlessly, making me moan and truly test the bonds that hold me in place.

After about 20 minutes of being held in this space between heaven and hell (though it feels like hours), she climbs up my body, letting me feel her nipples tease across my chest. I can barely string two thoughts together, and a slow stream of “Oh god” and “please” is coming from my mouth.

“Oh… so needy…” she comments before nibbling my earlobe and giving a moan in my ear that causes my hips to thrust up, searching for solace. “And we are just getting started. I have so many more fun things for us to try.”

I can barely register what she is saying or what is happening to me as she lifts my legs and attaches my feet to two cuffs above my shoulders. The new position leaves me totally exposed to her and she begins running her sharp nails down the backs of my thighs… areas that are so rarely caressed that the sensation sits on the line between teasing and outright tickling. I find that with my body bound as it is, all I can do is wave my ass in the air in response to her teasing. Her teasing fingers explore my thighs, my ass cheeks (noticing a particularly strong reaction when her fingers graze the crease between the two), the skin behind my balls, and the bottoms of my feet, which makes me whimper and makes my cock visibly swell and twitch. My wiggling becomes more and more erratic.

She sits back, apparently unhappy with my mobility. “Hmmmm… this won’t do at all” she comments before grabbing a wedge-shaped pillow and shoving it under my back. The pillow attaches to straps on the side of the bed, and then she attaches my hips to it with a velvet rope.

“Let’s see how that works” and she starts to tease her fingers over the sensitive crease between my ass and legs. I try to squirm away, but the pillow and straps make it almost impossible to move.

“Mmmmm…. Much better. How are you doing down there?” she asks, as she reaches between my legs and runs a finger down my dripping cock.

“Ohhhh… please….. you have to make me cum… please… “

“Oh, Honey, please do…. I know that mean old lotion I was using earlier stops you, but I would love it if you came! Just shoot that hot white load that you have been building up, making it spurt everywhere, it would feel just soooooo amazing! Just imagine your cock pulsing and clenching, the tingles running down your spine as you finally release jet after jet of hot cum, mmmmm”

I can only moan as she paints a mental picture of the orgasm I am dying to have.

“You know what? Let’s see just how well that nasty lotion works. I bet if I get you really really turned on, you can do it…” her hand closes around my shaft and she starts rubbing with slow even strokes. The strange angle that she has put me in causes her strokes to feel different and more intense, and my toes start curling in response.

“Oh please… ” I say over and over as she strokes up and down with twisting firm strokes.

I feel the familiar tingle of what would normally warn of an impending mind-melting orgasm.

Just as I am about to slam into the edge again, she stops and says, “If we really want to get you hot enough for you to overpower the lotion, my hands, mouth, and pussy aren’t going to be enough… I mean you have had plenty of those so far, and no cummies yet…”

With that, she hops off the bed, pulls a box out of the closet, and places it on the bed out of my line of vision.

“Let’s really have some fun now…”

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

Aaron was trying his best not to stare too blatantly out the window of Kristina’s big black Hummer as she drove them all to the park. It was a brilliantly sunny day, and the air was fresh and crisp, smelling delicious in Aaron’s nostrils as he breathed it in through the open windows. Of course, being situated in between the huge thighs of both Courtney and Cassie, he didn’t get the full blast of the wind to his face — this was just as well, because the way the wind was blowing through Cassie’s long, blond hair, and Courtney’s luscious brown curls, it made them look even more like goddesses than they already did. Sandwiched in between them, he had plenty to gawk at, not the least of which was the astounding size comparisons between his body and theirs.

‘God…and I thought they were huge before!’ he said to himself. Their thighs were so big that Aaron was positive that both Cassie’s and Courtney’s were thicker than his torso, and compared to the skinny little legs of his 4’10 frame…well, it was utterly laughable. He looked like an absolute child compared to them. And it wasn’t just his legs — both Cassie and Courtney had deliberately situated their arms so that they lined up perfectly with Aaron’s, allowing him to constantly compare himself to them. Courtney’s arms and legs were a little bit longer than Cassie’s, but hers were a little thicker. Needless to say, Aaron’s arms looked incredibly small and weak compared to theirs, and it didn’t help that Cassie was wearing a beautiful silver bracelet on her left wrist, which allowed Aaron still more size musings. Whenever Cassie lifted her arm in the air, the bracelet didn’t even move down her arm — that’s how snugly it fit her wrist.

‘But if I tried to wear it,’ Aaron thought, ‘It would slide all the way down my arm, past my elbow…and probably wouldn’t even stop until it got to my shoulder.’

Such size comparison thoughts were driving Aaron wild with desire, even as he had trained himself, over the last couple of weeks, to try and contain his arousal. It was impossible not to be constantly hard around these three, but whenever his heart rate and breathing started increasing, it was like the girls had a special mechanism for detecting his erotic perturbations. It was like sharks smelling blood in the water. And, inevitably, once they knew he was particularly turned-on, the girls would go in for the kill, not stopping until Aaron was milked dry. And when they wanted to milk him, they really milked him, to the point where he would often lose consciousness from the sheer, overwhelming power of their collective determination.

Aaron had quickly learned that life was far more manageable when he wasn’t stuck in an endless cycle of cumming and passing out, and so he had tried to train himself to keep it all under control. Of course, aside from the obvious power of his secret diary, any “control” he had was a ruse, and Aaron knew it — when he was around Kristina, Cassie, and Courtney, they were the ones in charge. And how could they not be? At 7’9, 8’1, and 8’4, respectively, they dominated him in every way.

Generally, Aaron would have been trying to stare out the window to distract himself from getting too aroused by the thick, delicious curves sandwiched up next to him, but today was different. Today, he was actually doing the opposite — trying to focus on the girls’ incredible bodies to distract himself from what he was seeing outside. Aaron was still a little paranoid about giving away his most precious secret — the diary — and the night before, he had broken down and wished all women in the city to be 3 inches taller. He had already led up to this dramatic wish by making them all 1 inch taller, and the results hadn’t been too noticeable. But wishing them an additional 3 inches taller? Aaron figured that the results would be plain to see, and they absolutely were. Almost as soon as Kristina had turned onto a main suburban road and gunned her big engine toward the park, Aaron had spotted a young couple, around his age, walking their dog. He had seen this couple before, and the man had been slightly taller than the woman…maybe around 5’10. Now, though, he looked quite obviously shorter than her, and what’s more, she was sporting a pair of heels that made her tower over him even more. The top of his head didn’t even reach her mouth now! And perhaps even more incredibly, they were just strolling along like everything was normal. Per usual with the diary, no one who had been altered was aware of the alteration. Once again, it had worked!

And that was just the first couple Aaron saw — in the next few minutes, every woman they passed by on the sidewalk looked quite tall, and some of them dramatically so. In only one or two couples was the man still taller, and even then, it wasn’t by much. In several couples, like that first one, the woman was dramatically taller. And what’s more, Aaron saw that many of the women were rocking all kinds of trendy heels. What was going on!? He hadn’t specifically wished bursa escort bayan for all the women in the city to embrace their height more — was buying new heels just a natural response to being taller, perhaps? Aaron didn’t know, but there was no denying it: already, it appeared like the women in the city had tossed away any lingering stigma that existed in their minds that being tall was unattractive.

‘And it was all because…because of that one wish I made,’ Aaron thought, nearly overcome with an all-encompassing, aroused joy that almost made him dizzy. ‘It’s actually happening now…my dreams are coming true…’

He was so taken with his excitement that he had to make a conscious effort not to stare out of the window too obviously. He was afraid that the girls would pick up on something and start asking questions. But of course that meant staring at Cassie and Courtney, both of whom were tenderly snuggling up to him, playfully competing for his attention. Cassie had slid her huge hand around his thigh, easily spanning more than halfway around it, and she was gently squeezing it, testing it for size. For her part, Courtney had threaded her big arm around Aaron’s back, its weight forcing him to lean forward, as she pulled him in to her, jostling his face up against the firm, plush softness of her massive breast. Aaron could see her hard nipple protruding out through her lavender silk top.

‘Her nipple alone has to be like…an inch long,’ he thought, the helpless arousal bleeding down through his body to his toes, ‘Or more…’

“Our little man seems a little nervous today!” trilled Cassie sexily, squeezing his thigh a little harder, making him jump and yelp out. “Hahaha, ohhhhh and a little jumpy too! What gives, sweet boy?”

“Maybe it’s Kristina’s driving,” opined Courtney, as she cast a humorous glance up toward the driver’s seat. Even though Kristina drove a gigantic Hummer, her massive frame was still cramped into the seat, making it look pitifully small. Aaron couldn’t help but swallow as he realized that Kristina’s huge ass was squished so tightly up against the center console that it was actually spilling over on top of it…and it spilled over even more when she whipped around and cast a cross glance behind at Courntey.

“That’s a hell of a way to speak to your navigator!” Kristina exclaimed, feigning irritation, as she turned her eyes forward, back to the road. “Maybe next time YOU volunteer to drive, huh? And then I’ll get some quality Aaron-time with Cassie in the back seat, instead of having my fat ass parked all the way up here, putting up with all your shit-talking!”

“She knows her car is the only one we’ll all fit in,” chuckled Courtney down to Aaron, shaking her head. “If we were all your size, there wouldn’t be a problem, now, would there? We tried to fit into Cassie’s cute little PT Cruiser, but…haha, well, we already told you how that went.”

Aaron swallowed and nodded. An image popped into his mind again of the three girls grimacing as they were forced to pry their huge asses and thick hips out of Cassie’s small car. He had to smile a little to himself, even as he felt another heat wave of arousal passing through him. They were so big now that ordinary spaces were beginning to be inaccessible.

‘Maybe I need to cool it with the wishes for a little bit,’ he thought to himself, as they passed by another young couple walking down the sidewalk, in which the woman looked to be a full head taller than the man. ‘Things are already perfect…aren’t they??’

“Psssh, haha, and it goes without saying,” laughed Cassie, inadvertently slapping Aaron’s thigh in her mirth, “That even though she moans and bitches about it, Kristina is the one who likes to be in the driver’s seat. Showing off your big man wheels and everything, hahaha — weaving through traffic, cutting people off…”

“Like, what’re they even gonna do about it?” Kristina grinned. “This is a Hummer, for godsakes! Good luck trying to run ME off the road!”

“Heh, like that guy tried to do the other day?” chuckled Cassie, who had now joined Courtney in feeling up Aaron’s thighs with her huge hand. She seemed intent on her conversation with Kristina, and Aaron was left to wonder whether the girls were beginning to subconsciously think of him as some kind of a stuffed animal, or a pet, who they could pet and tease and coo at and force to cum whenever they wanted to. He certainly felt like that, with Courtney and Cassie feeling him up like this, even as they laughed and joked with Kristina.

“Ha! Exactly!” burst out Kristina, making a sharp turn into the park, “Big man thought he could intimidate me by getting out of his car at that red light…and all I had to do was step out myself, and he got back in his car REAL quick. Haha, you should’ve seen how big his eyes got when he saw how much I towered over him!”

“Well he probably had never seen anyone as huge as you,” mused Cassie, “Since guys and girls are bursa escort sitesi usually about the same height — not us, though! Right, sweet boy?”

Cassie had playfully dug her long finger into Aaron’s side, tickling him and making him jump.

“R-Right!” he answered, nodding his head as he laughed. Privately, he marveled once again at the power of the diary — with that one wish the night before, of making all the women in the city 3 inches taller, he had completely changed everyone’s perception of what “normal” heights were for men and women…and all without any of them realizing it. It was just like he had always dreamt of: a world where it was normal for men and women to be the same size…or even, for women to be bigger. Already he could feel his resolve dissolving to “cool it” on the wishes.

“Alright, we’re here!” announced Kristina, shutting off her massive car. “God, it’s not even lunch time yet and I’m already starving!”

“Me too,” giggled Cassie, opening the door and sliding her huge ass up off the seat. As she did so, Aaron felt his entire body fall towards the space where her body had been before — that’s how tightly squeezed he was in between the two girls. As he fell towards the erotic gyrations of Cassie’s immense curves through her jean shorts, Aaron felt a warm, strong hand wrap lovingly around the entirety of his right shoulder and collarbone, preventing him from face-planting into the seat.

“Heh heh, easy there, tiger,” came Courtney’s chuckling, velvety voice from far above, “Here, come out with me.” Aaron felt the sensuous heat of her huge hand spilling over his back as she guided him out the other side of the car, and then going down to thread itself in between his legs as she made a “seat” out of her forearm, crouching low to guide his feet down, down to the ground. Even crouched low like this, Courtney was still a good 6 inches taller than him, and Aaron felt his breath catch as he looked slightly up into her deep, loving, brown eyes, which glinted with subtle mischief as she gave his balls a little squeeze once his feet had touched down.

“Yiiiip!” Aaron squealed, nearly cumming in his pants right then and there.

“Mmmmm, soooo cute!” hummed Courtney, winking at him as she rose up to her full height, usurping the entire extent of his vision. He had been blinking into her nose an instant before, but now he was gawking at the bulge of her pubic mound, pressing hard into the confines of her jean shorts. He had to avert his eyes upward to see her belt buckle.

“Hey, how about giving us a hand, you two?” Kristina asked, as she poked her head around the back end of the Hummer. She had a plethora of rolled-up yoga mats tucked under one arm, and in her other she was holding a tremendous picnic basket.

“Alright, sure,” Courtney replied, “What can we help with?”

“Well,” Cassie mused, coming around the back end of the car. An eclectic collection of huge hula hoops hung diagonally across her body, “As you can see, I’ve got all the hula hoops…”

“Yes, I can see that,” nodded Courtney humorously.

“There’s one more picnic basket,” Kristina continued, staring into the trunk, “And that’s it.”

“I’ll get it!” Aaron spoke up eagerly. He had a sudden urge to feel useful, if anything to distract himself from his own arousal, and from the inevitable erotic shock of seeing all the tall women walking around that he had created the previous night.

“Uh…heh, I mean, you can try, Aaron,” smiled Kristina, glancing up past him at Courtney, sharing a wry smile. “But I think it might be a little big for you. I packed it full for three big, hungry girls, so…”

“No, no, I…I can carry it,” Aaron maintained, and he hopped over to the trunk, standing next to the large pillar of Kristina’s bare thigh as he peered into the back of the car. He felt his heart sink when he saw the picnic basket. It might not have been quite as huge as the one Kristina was holding (with one hand), but it sure looked big.

“Having second thoughts?” Kristina teased him from far above. Aaron turned to address her and got a face-full of her lower abs, which he could make out under the firm, plush volume of her creamy white flesh poking out from underneath her tight turquoise t-shirt.

“I…n-no…no, I can, uh…here, look!” he stammered. Standing this close to Kristina, he couldn’t even see her face when he looked up since her huge breasts blocked his vision. He managed to tear himself away from gaping up at the underside of her breasts and back to the trunk. He reached out his arms, which looked pitifully small in comparison to the large picnic basket, and tried to pull it towards him. It budged a few inches, but that was it. Aaron couldn’t believe that it could be so heavy, and he tried harder. It scraped along the bottom of the trunk for an inch or two more, but already, Aaron could feel that his muscles were overmatched.

‘The freaking thing has to weigh over a hundred pounds!’ he thought incredulously. Feeling sheepish, he slowly turned and beheld the three girls grinning down at him. All three of them looked like they were having a great time watching him, in their own unique ways: Kristina was smiling open-mouthed and shaking her head, clearly mocking him; Cassie had her eyebrows raised, with the tip of her tongue sticking out in between her closed lips, looking like she was about to burst from the cuteness of the whole situation; and Courtney’s eyelids were closed halfway, blinking lusciously, as if she was patiently watching a child attempt something way over his head. Aaron was mesmerized by their size and beauty, but, as his failure to help was so obvious, he wasn’t able to avoid letting loose a dejected sigh. His own inadequacy was certainly a turn-on, but, paradoxically, that still didn’t stop him from wanting to at least feel a little bit useful.

“Here, sweetheart,” Courntey said gently, stepping forward and leaning over him, “It’s ok…lemme get that…”

An instant later she had effortlessly lifted the entire picnic basket up out of the trunk, over Aaron’s head, even pausing it playfully above him for a moment, twirling it around with her fingers to show him how easy it was for her.

Kristina slammed the trunk shut, and the three girls started walking towards their picnic spot. But Cassie lingered for a second, noticing the dejected look in Arron’s eyes.

“Aww, it’s ok baby,” she cooed down to him, “You don’t have to carry anything! Leave it up to the big girls, haha!”

Aaron sighed, smiling a little, as he shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t quite know what it was that had suddenly made him feel down. Maybe it was the remnants of his masculinity still calling out from within the far recesses of his mind, warning him against submitting entirely to this new world of his own making. Cassie tilted her head to the side a little, scrutinizing him. Her almond-shaped green eyes seemed to penetrate through him, like she was reading his mind. Perhaps Aaron only had this impression because of how big and tall she was. And yet…

“Haha, okay!” she laughed suddenly, “You can carry one of these!”

Smiling broadly, Cassie grabbed one of the eight hula hoops she had slung across her body and pulled it up over her head, presenting it to Aaron with a playful wink. He gladly accepted it, even as he felt overwhelmingly silly for the purported “help” he was actually giving. He was a bit surprised, too, when, after Cassie let go of the hula hoop, he felt its true weight, and was unable to keep it from clattering down on the pavement.

“Oh! Is…is it actually too heavy?” Cassie asked, a bit concerned.

“No! No, it…I can carry it fine,” Aaron replied, slinging it around his own shoulder. “I guess I just thought it was…uh…gonna be a little lighter, is all.”

“Haha well, these were the biggest ones I could buy,” chuckled Cassie, as the two of them joined Kristina and Courtney in walking towards the picnic spot. “I was gonna bring my old ones, only to realize that I couldn’t even fit my fat ass through them anymore! I hadn’t realized how much bigger I’ve gotten, I guess.”

“But what did that lady at the store mention?” asked Kristina, “About how a lot of the bigger items of pretty much everything were going out of stock? Bras, jeans, tops, shoes…and yeah, even things like hula hoops and…and what was that other thing that was so interesting?”

“Rings!” Cassie exclaimed, brandishing her own silver bracelet that flashed in the sunlight, “And jewelry!”

“Right,” nodded Kristina, “She was talking about how all these women were showing up and needing to get their rings and bracelets and stuff resized.”

“So strange!” Cassie laughed, “You would think that their husbands and boyfriends would know what size they were, wouldn’t you?”

“You would think, yeah,” agreed Kristina thoughtfully.

Aaron had been listening to this whole conversation with a certain degree of anxiety. He knew that, short of actually finding the diary, they could never trace anything back to him. Still, though, it made him nervous to hear them openly discussing the oddity of what was going on, from their perspective. In any case, his nerves were easily distracted by the heavy, luxurious fluctuations of their hips, with Cassie’s (in her 6-inch boots) and Courntey’s slightly above his eyes, and Kristina’s just about even with them. The hula hoop around his shoulder was so big that it was a little unwieldy, and it wasn’t lost on him how it spanned all the way down to his knees. Looking up to Cassie, he saw her sunnily walking along, with the hoops only reaching down to her waist.

“Aaaanyway, how about this spot?” Kristina asked. They had reached the top of a grassy hill, which sat comfortably under the shade of a large oak tree. The spot provided a perfect panorama view of the rest of the park.

“Nice!” Courtney said happily, “Usually this spot is taken by now.”

They settled down and spread out the picnic…or, more accurately, the girls did, while Aaron watched them with the oversized hula hoop slung around his body. In less than a minute, Courtney had laid out the picnic blanket, and Kristina had unpacked all the food.

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