Author: admin

Harry Fielding was slim and light-skinned. His facial features were a perfect mix of his Jamaican-American mother’s and German-American father’s. His hair, neatly trimmed into a bald fade, was dark-brown rather than black, and perfectly complimented his hazel-gray eyes. At thirty-three, he was a wizard of digital marketing and had been delighted when his boss decided to send him to Colombia to help set up the new digital marketing division of their Latin American branch.

With a bright personality and a forward way of speaking, the Colombians came to appreciate his style very quickly and came to respect his knowledge and skill even more. Medellín was a quickly-growing economy within Colombia; having turned its image around from being a city known for crime and cocaine to one of the safest in the country with a strong newly-constructed and constantly improving infrastructure.

Harry did not concern himself with all that, however; at least not while he rode the Colombian branch director’s cock. Hernan Gonzales was forty-nine; a thickly built hunk of hairy muscle with strong bushy eyebrows and hair that was an even blend of salt and pepper. Harry had suspected Hernan’s interest in him from day one. It took less than a month for Harry to be on his knees beneath Hernan’s desk, sucking him off while he took a phone call. After that, it was no holds barred.

It was the third night in as many months that Hernan had booked a room at the high class hotel. They had a great view of the city lights from their room; not that Harry cared to look outside as he rose and fell on Hernan’s thick throbbing erection. He ran his hands over the Colombian’s broad chest. He appreciated the man’s hirsute body, since he had little body hair of his own. He gasped as Hernan’s rough hands slithered up his torso and came to rest on his pecs. He panted as the man thumbed and pinched his nipples.

Harry rode more vigorously. His hard cock humped against Hernan’s stomach, leaking a deluge of stick precum over the man’s hairy navel. Harry relished the sensation of being stuffed; the sensation of the long thick Latino cock that clogged his guts and sent pleasure quivering up his insides. He braced himself on Hernan’s broad chest as he impaled his guts on the fleshy sword. He craned his head back as Hernan continued to caress and fondle his body, then thrust upward.

Harry grunted at the new sensation but quickly adjusted. He was not new to the bottom role and made it known by riding Hernan even harder. The man growled and gripped Harry tight by the waist; a signal that he was close. Harry clenched Hernan’s meaty pecs and rode the Colombian ass-buster to completion. A grin curled his lips as he savored Hernan’s eruption and felt the wet warmth invade past the point Hernan’s cock could breach.

He continued to ride; well aware of how stiff Hernan remained even after orgasm. He slowed to a grinding rhythm. He gyrated his ass on the cock; a slow sensual dance for his own pleasure while Hernan merely moaned and groped his ass-cheeks. That was more than enough as Harry resumed a more frantic pace. His humped the curve of Hernan’s belly. His cock stiffened against the hairy flesh as he reached orgasm. His cum streaked over the Colombian’s chest in several powerful shots, then slowed to dribble out over his stomach.

Harry gasped as he slipped off the cock then rolled off onto his back. He lay beside Hernan for a while in silence as they stared up at the ceiling. Despite several encounters, they had never kissed; never hugged; never been truly intimate. Harry knew that for Hernan, their sex was more to satisfy an urge than to experience any real connection. Harry was convenient for him. They both had shit to lose were they ever found out, and so they would both keep their mouths shut.

Harry did not mind that part. God only knew he had hooked up with his fair share of married men on the down low and closeted bisexuals. However, it had been three months, almost four, and he longed for some kind of intimacy. A hug; a sensual kiss; the feeling of a warm body next to his all night as he slept. Hernan rose and headed for the bathroom. Harry sighed. Once the Colombian was done, it would be his turn, then they would leave in separate cars. At work, they would be utterly professional, unless Hernan wanted a blowjob under his desk, or a quick pump and dump in the executive restroom.

* * * * *

Harry smiled as he was handed his usual morning order of an arepa and a cup of coffee. His American HR had warned him not to eat street food but the arepas from that particular vendor were good, as was the coffee. He had never gotten sick. Of course it helped that the arepas vendor was cute. Raul was Afro-Colombian and, originally from Cartagena, the twenty-seven year-old exemplified the masculine beauty of that city: tall and athletic with the darkest smoothest complexion of black that Harry had ever seen. His smile was always bright and shockingly white. His hair was texturized and molded into a curly-top fade that complimented the diamond stud in each earlobe.

Harry’s cock swelled and throbbed in his slacks as he watched the gorgeous ebony man move around his food cart, quickly and skillfully slapping arepas onto a small sheet of parchment, slicing a deep slit down the middle and stuffing it full of steaming-hot shredded chicken, a triangular slice of cheese and a thin wedge of avocado or tomato. Harry was mesmerized by the seemingly simple act of prepping and serving the food, all in less than a minute, and handing off to the next customer with a smile and a friendly chime of “a la orden!”

It was then that Raul looked at him, and Harry felt his whole body quiver. His gaze was electric and piercing, as though he had undressed him in that instant. Those beautiful brown eyes roamed up and down Harry’s body then Raul licked his luscious lips. Harry nearly swooned but managed to smile back. It was then he realized he was the only customer left at the cart as Raul gestured him forward. Raul swiftly slid his business card into the parchment paper, beneath Harry’s arepa.

* * * * *

That night, Harry was more than ready to get it on with Raul. He knew most men bragged about their prowess but he’d seen the proof, as Raul had sent him pics of his horse-hung ebony schlong, and it had excited Harry to no end. His asshole twitched as he waited, naked, on the bed of his hotel room; the very same room Hernan had rented just a few nights prior. Harry did not care. All he cared about was having Raul’s massive cock inside of him; to feel the black stud’s hard sculpted body on top of his.

A knock at the door roused Harry from his fantasies and he opened it, towel around his waist, to see Raul stood there, as gorgeous as ever. Within moments, he stood naked and Harry took in every inch of him. He was majestically sculpted; every curve and valley defined and there seemed to be not an ounce of excess fat on him. The endowment was just as amazing as it had been in the pics. In fact, it was even more magnificent in person as it stood firm above his heavy balls like a spire of black steel. The pink head peered at Harry from beneath its ebony foreskin and Harry was eager to greet it.

He sank to his knees, gripped the thick meat and slid his tongue under the skin. The twang of salty sweet and the mildest taste of piss aroused him, and Raul’s soft moans were the sweetest tune he’d ever heard. He spun circles around the bulbous pink head beneath the snug-fitted flesh. He pressed his lips to the tip and pushed the foreskin back over the crown. Raul shuddered and groaned. His legs trembled and Harry gripped two handfuls of that firm ebony buttocks as he sank his mouth further down the shaft.

He moaned as the cock throbbed in his mouth. He began to suck; slid his mouth up and down the heavy pole. With each descent he conquered more of the length until finally, he sealed his lips around the base, his nose buried in Raul’s thick and curly pubic bush. Raul grunted and Harry began to bob his head up and down. He savored the entire length of Black Colombian cock lodge in his throat immediately followed by the taste of the cockhead on his tongue. He slurped and saliva squelched out the sides of his mouth as he got Raul’s cock wet. He relished the sudden grip of Raul’s spidery hand to the back of his head, and sucked the cock even faster.

He slipped off the sloppy erection and looked up at Raul, whose entire body shuddered. Raul pulled Harry to his feet and kissed him. Harry grunted as Raul’s hot wet tongue slithered into his mouth and aimed for his throat. He hugged Raul close as the Black Colombian grabbed his golden ass and squeezed tight. Long thin fingers explored between his cheek and discovered his hole. He grunted around Raul’s tongue as the digits pushed deeper.

Raul broke their kiss, spun Harry around and shoved him forward over the bed. Harry gasped as his ass-cheeks were roughly spread and invaded by Raul’s face. He yelped as the hot wet tongue assaulted his asshole. It speared right up inside, once then again and a third time. Harry arched his back and gripped the sheets as Raul sucked and kissed and tongued his chute. The talented tongue washed his winking asshole then pushed back inside with gusto. For almost fifteen minutes Harry enjoyed the most incredible rimjob ever.

He almost felt a moment of loss as the tongue withdrew only to feel the most intense arousal as it was replaced by the bare head of Raul’s cock. The bulbous tip pushed in, and Harry groaned as his asshole opened and embraced the invader. A brief shot a pain, quickly replaced by pleasure as the head popped past his ring and sank deeper. Harry relished every inch as the ebony monster burrowed deeper and filled his ass, until finally, Raul’s pubes and balls nestled against his ass. The massive horse-hung shaft was lodged inside him, and Harry shivered with delight.

Rested atop him, Raul began to move in and out. Harry moaned at the sensation, and added his own as he pushed back on the slow inward stroke. They both groaned as pleasure took over and bound them together. In tandem, they moved: Harry rocked back as Raul pushed forward. Each invasion of that mighty cock caused Harry to grunt. He felt it deep; deeper than Hernan. Deeper than any man he’d ever taken. His first truly horse-hung cock. He rocked back faster, and Raul paused to allow Harry to pleasure himself.

Harry slapped his buttocks on Raul’s flat pelvis. He arched his back and moaned out loud as he forced the cock far up his guts; addicted to the strange fusion of discomfort and pleasure. However, pleasure had clearly won out as Harry slammed himself back then paused, and shuddered. He had impaled himself to the second hole, and Raul felt it too, considering his shivers of pleasure. He grabbed Harry by the waist and reclaimed control of the fuck.

Harry grunted again and again as he buried his face in the sheet and endured the exquisite thrill of Raul’s cock. The Black Colombian lanced himself deep with every powerful thrust. His cock thumped into Harry’s depths, and Harry could only groan with delight; his own cock rock-hard beneath him as it leaked a steady string of precum. Again and again he was rocked forward by the force of Raul’s strokes. Again and again, his asshole squelched as air and moisture were forced out around the girth of Raul’s cock on its inward stroke. He felt the intense moisture of his ass, and sensed the urgency in Raul’s thrusts. The man was about to cum!

Sure enough, Raul barked and shuddered. His cock erupted and Harry relished the explosion. The horse-hung ebony phallus pulsed rapid and powerful within him. Its expansion stretched his hole painfully and he howled as he endured the balls-deep breeding. When it was finally over, Raul collapsed on top of him. Harry savored the Black Colombian’s weight and heat on top of him; savored the heavy huff of his breath against his ear. He reached up and guided Raul into a kiss; a kiss eagerly accepted. He moaned around Raul’s invasive tongue, and felt the renewed twitch of his erection.

He grunted as the Black Colombian began to fuck him anew; a slow sawing motion through his loose, cum-filled guts, and Harry accepted as he pushed his buttocks up and back to meet him. They continued to kiss, even as Raul’s force and speed increased. Raul’s spidery fingers snuck under him and pinched his nipples, and caressed his chest. Raul’s legs formed under-hooks beneath his own and pinned him to the bed in prone position, as the force and pleasure of the balls-deep thrusts increased and brought Harry to orgasm. Raul fucked him regardless, until he’d reached his own second climax. In the aftermath, Harry rested beneath the slumbering Black Colombian, softly mewing his joy at the warmth of intimacy; his fingers entwined with Raul’s as he gently drifted off to sleep.

20 year old Ryan Greenwood and his stepdad Mark Simons were home and alone together whilst Ryan’s mum Wendy was at work and Ryan and Mark had the weekend off from their own jobs. On this day, Ryan and Mark were arguing once again.

“I will show mum proof that you’re cheating on her and she’ll see your true colours! She will leave you just as she left my dad when he cheated on her! Only this time you won’t be able to lie your way out of this one the way you’ve done the last few times!” Ryan shouted at Mark.

“Yeah whatever kid, listen here, your mum’s hot and I love her but I can’t just keep having sex with the same woman all the time I need variety! But of course your mum won’t understand that as women usually don’t but it’s not like she’s ever going to believe a word you say against me so do us all a favour and drop it!” Mark replied.

Ryan clenched his fist in anger. “Ooo are you gonna hit me? Go then….yeah….that’s what I thought pathetic little weakling” Mark walked out of the room smirking.

Ryan was feeling very angry now. His mum is a bisexual who attends many LGBT events and has many gay friends. Ryan remembered telling one of her gay friends about the issues that he’s been having with his stepdad Mark and the friend told him that there’s these people who call themselves the Gay Gang who had recently sexually fucked up a lad called Jack Hartley in the local shop recently. The man was a customer at the shop at the time and he told Ryan that they could help him teach his stepdad Mark a good lesson. Ryan thought that with Mark being a sex addict who sees women as nothing but sex objects, being used as a sex object himself would be the perfect punishment for him! Ryan grinned in amusement at the thought.

Ryan decided to take out his phone and call the Gay Gang. After the call Ryan was feeling great. The Gay Gang would arrive tomorrow morning at 10am to sort out Mark just as Mark would be about to have his morning shower. Jack decided to call 10 of his mum’s gay friends to come over and watch as they shared the same opinions on Mark as Ryan did.

The next morning arrived and Mark had kissed Wendy goodbye as she set off for work. Mark get fully undressed ready for his morning shower. Mark was a big built man with thick muscles and a six pack along with short brown hair and brown eyes. His long 9 inch circumcised penis swung around as he walked towards the bathroom. Mark was very big headed as he loved to check out his own naked body in the mirror and flexing his muscles for a good while before getting in the shower.

Meanwhile Ryan was downstairs quietly letting the Gay Gang into the house along with his mum’s gay friends. They went upstairs and the Gay Gang slapped a pair of handcuffs on a naked Mark and they and some of the gay friends had picked Mark up and began to take him downstairs. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL DOING? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU LOT?! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Mark roared.

“Shut the fuck up!” the Gay Gang shouted back to him. They all carried him downstairs and then down another set of stairs into the basement. Once they all reached the basement, they dropped him onto the floor.

“TELL ME WHO THE FUCK YOU ALL ARE AND WHAT YOUR FUCKING GAME IS!” Mark called out.

The 30 year old Gay Gang man stepped forward and said “we’re the Gay Gang and we hear you’ve been cheating on this poor lad’s mum seeing women as nothing but sex objects, well we’re about to make you feel what it’s like to be a sex object!”

Mark then looked at Ryan in horror. “THIS WAS ALL YOUR DOING!? OHH YOU ARE SO GOING TO GET IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Mark shouted at him.

The 30 year old Gay Gang man slapped Mark across the face and shouted “oi don’t you fucking talk to him like that! Right let’s bend him over!”

The whole crowd cheered and the 30 year old man began slapping Mark’s arse with his hand over and over again. “OOO AHHH OW!!! AHH!!” Mark called out with each slap. “Yeah how does it feel to be naked and bent over like a little bitch while a man is handling you?” The 30 year old asked him with a grin.

“YOU’LL ALL PAY FOR THIS ESPECIALLY YOU RYAN YOU FUCKING PRICK!” Mark shouted.

“Oooo” everybody said. The 30 year old Gay Gang man pulled out a whip from the black bag that they carry and he handed it over to Ryan. “Here do you fancy a go?” He asked him.

Ryan grinned “yeah definitely!” He replied. He took the whip and began cracking it at Mark’s arse. “OW! AHHH! OWWW!!! FUCK! AHHH!!!” Mark called out with each time Ryan cracked the whip at his arse. The whole crowd was cheering Ryan on. Ryan kept whipping Mark until his whole arse was bright red. “I’LL GET YOU FOR THIS YOU PRICK!” Mark yelled out. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you over the sound of the whip hitting your arse” Ryan replied. The whole crowd laughed and applauded Ryan.

When Ryan stopped whipping him, the 20 year old Gay Gang lad turned to Ryan and asked “did that feel good?”

“It felt amazing!” Ryan replied and then everybody laughed and praised Ryan. The 30 year old Gay Gang man then said “let’s now make him know how it feels to have a dick in his mouth.” The whole crowed cheered. 

“WHAT?” Mark questioned in shock.

“Let’s get him on his knees lads” the 30 year old told the Gay Gang. The Gay Gang then forced Mark onto his knees and the 20 year old and the 50 year old Gay Gang men held Mark’s mouth open by force as the 40 year old Gay Gang man shoved his dick into Mark’s mouth and began thrusting it in and out. “BLERRRGGH ARGH AHH!!!” Mark made disgusted sounds as the dick was penetrating his mouth. This went on for a few more moments and Mark was constantly gagging as he couldn’t handle having the long thick dick going in and out of his mouth.

The 30 year old man then turned to Ryan and said “do you fancy giving it a go lad? Don’t worry he won’t do anything, he’ll get seriously fucked up if he tries anything”.

“Errr…yeah…I guess… okay.” Ryan replied. Ryan then unbuckled his belt and took out his long 8 inch cock. Ryan is straight so he wasn’t getting turned on by what he’d been witnessing but he was enjoying Mark’s torment nonetheless. Ryan wanked his cock a bit in order to get it erect and he then put it into Mark’s mouth and began fucking his throat. 

“BLERRGHH ARGH BLERRGHH AHH!” Mark continued to make disgusted noises as Ryan’s dick was penetrating his throat. Ryan began thrusting a bit faster. The sensation of having his dick inside his horrible scumbag stepdad’s mouth was better than any blowjob he’d ever had. “Yeah how does that feel? Do you love having my dick in your mouth?” Ryan asked him with a grin.

“BLEERRR!!!” came Mark’s muffled reply. Everybody continued to laugh. After a while Ryan then took his dick out of Mark’s mouth. “Why don’t you slap him with it?” The 50 year old Gay Gang man asked him. Ryan then began constantly slapping Mark’s face with his wet cock and Ryan was loving every second of it. 

After a few moments, Ryan stopped slapping Mark’s face with his cock and said to him “are you going to agree to leave my mum?”

“FUCK OFF YOU DIRTY PRICK!” Mark roared back at him.

“Oooo” everybody said as they shook their heads. The 30 year Gay Gang man turned to everybody and said “right let’s take the handcuffs off him and we’ll lay him down on this table and tie him up instead, there’s something that I’ve got planned for him…”

Mark’s punishment will continue in chapter 2.

It was a nice early summer day when I started out on my cross country trip. I had just turned 18 and was going to hitchhike from the east coast to the west coast for my summer vacation after graduating from high school.

I got lucky and had only been at the on ramp near a truck stop for a half hour before a trucker stopped for me. He asked me where I was headed and when I told him he told me I hit the jack pot because his load was for California and off we went.

Everything was going fine until several hours later. The trucker told me he had to stop for the night and it would be time for me to pay him for the ride. I told him I didn’t have much money on me as I just had a debit card with a limited amount I could use on it daily. This is when he told me he didn’t want my money; he would take it out in trade.

We were now parked in the back lot of a truck stop and he told me to get into the sleeper part and take my clothes off. I decided that I would just get out and leave him there. However he had the doors locked and before I could unlock mine and get out he had hold of me and told me that if I didn’t want to get hurt I would do whatever he tells me to do and right now he is telling me to get in the back and take off my clothes. Having no choice I did as he said.

Once we were both naked he told me to suck his cock. I tried not to but he was much bigger and stronger than I was and it didn’t take him long to overpower me and force his cock into my mouth. It also didn’t take him long before he filled my mouth with his cum. He held my head so I had to swallow it before he released me and I fell back away from that cock.

He told me that we would rest for a little while and then he was going to fuck my ass. I was really scared now as I have never experienced anything like this before and didn’t want to be fucked in the ass by him. He just laughed at me, and then he took my clothes and put them away so I couldn’t get to them, thus keeping me here in his truck with him. He went to sleep but I couldn’t sleep knowing what was going to be done to me when he woke up.

It was getting light out when he woke me up and told me to get on my hands and knees. He poured some lube onto my ass crack and began rubbing it into my hole with his finger, and then he pushed a second one in. When he pulled his fingers out I was relieved but not for long. He started pushing his cock into my hole and when the head popped in I screamed from the pain. He just told me to relax and it would soon begin to feel good.

After a while it did begin feeling good and I began moaning softly. I even started telling him to fuck me more. He picked up the pace after hearing this and began to really pound my hole. He was really fucking me now and I really liked it. Then he pushed into me as deep as he could and stopped moving. I could feel his load of cum flooding my insides as he was now breeding me with his seed.

When he finished he pulled out and told me that we were going to go into the truck stop and use the showers and handed me just my pants and shoes. We were greeted by many truckers as we entered the shower area. Some of them were asking him where he found his new “chicken choker” which at that time I has no idea what they were talking about. He just responded to them by telling them I was a rider he was taking to California with him and that down the road he might be lending me out if they were interested.

He fucked me once again in the showers in front of some of these guys and sprayed this load all over my face when he came telling me to turn around and show it to them before cleaning it off. I was so embarrassed.

We returned to his truck and he took my pants and shoes from me so I had to ride naked. Then off we went. While we were riding down the road he was busy on his radio telling other truckers where we would be stopping later that day and if anyone was interested in having there chicken choked to meet us there and gave them a time. I was wondering what all of this was about but didn’t ask him.

When we got to the next truck stop for the night he announced we are there and where in the lot we were parked. It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door of his truck; I was already in the back and heard him talking to the guy knocking. He told him it would cost him $10 for a BJ and $20 for a fuck, and then the guy climbed in back with me. He took his cock out and told me to do a good job sucking him off and shoved his cock into my mouth.

While I was sucking this cock others were at the door waiting their turn with me. I now knew what a chicken choker was, because I am now one. The truckers fucked both of my holes for well over an hour and I had a belly and ass full of cum when they finished. The driver I was with told me that this was a profitable night for him and he was looking forward to the rest of the drive with me as his money maker, then he fucked me before we went to sleep.

When we finally arrived at the last truck stop in California he took me inside to the showers and had a line of truckers wanting to use me in there. He collected their money and while I was being gang banged by all of these guys he disappeared leaving me there. I was repeatedly spit roasted and raped by at least a dozen truckers before it was over. Once I had been fucked by them all I found my clothes and belongings in a pile in a corner of the shower room.

As I was making my way out of there I was groped and grabbed by some new arrivals and guided right back in. My clothes were taken off of me and I was pushed to my knees and a cock forced into my mouth. This cock was the biggest one I had encountered yet and could barely get my lips around it. When he finally flooded my mouth with his cum he told me to get up and dressed. He took me out of there and out to his truck. He told me that I would be riding up and down the coast with him and he would be selling my holes until I had to go back east.

By now I was just another truck stop whore bouncing from one trucker to another for the rest of the summer. I’m not sure if I will return home or not yet, I am making pretty good money here on my own and enjoying all of those trucker cocks using me every day and night.

[Disclaimer: this post only describes events from when I was over 18 years of age.]

I was sexually active from a young age and had only ever been with girls. I’ve slept with more girls than most my friends. I’ve always been fairly confident about my body around friends and guys in my team, (being into team sports, we see each other naked quite regularly in changing rooms and showers.. And occasionally on the pitch). Yeah Ive always liked to look at my male friends but I figured that’s probably normal, as we all do it and all comment on each other… it’s just appreciation and I definitely didn’t want to engage in any sexual acts with them. We’re all about the honies, not the homies! In my whole team only 2 of us are uncircumcised (including me), I’m pretty much used to seeing circumcised dicks.

Well, this is where my dad comes in. He’s a good guy, a bit rough round the edges but a heart of gold, and I would say that we have a good relationship. He is perhaps your average working man but he had great ambitions and he’s doing well for himself. I have been working for him with his own business and we have never been closer. We spend so much time together now and I see him more than anybody else. I live with him whereas my older brother lives away. My dad is in his late 40’s, I guess he’s no mona lisa. He’s usually got paint, sawdust or oil on his clothes because of working on his cars or fixing up the house, he’s bald and has some stubble on his chin. I’d say he’s pretty much your stereotypical manly bloke. He is barely literate, but he is smart in other ways. He has always been a bit of a tough guy. We usually joke about him being like Fred Flintstone. Partly because he looked a bit like a neanderthal and because liked walking around barefoot a lot of the time. I was somewhat intimidated by him when I was younger, but now I’m older, and I work out I’m a bit bigger than him. Well.. In most areas but two. There’s his belly/beer gut, and… Well let me describe the whole thing.

I was super horny one night, chatting to a hot girl who lives round the corner. I sent her pics of my dick and she was gagging for it. I was desperate too but she said theres no way she could have me over, so I decided to invite her over instead. My parents were asleep so I had to be really quiet. I went downstairs. I saw her through the window as she arrived so I pulled down my underwear and quietly opened the door, with my rock hard cock cheekily on display. My dicks a good size and I do love to show it off, especially when our cards are already on the table. She was so wet for it, she came up to me grabbed it and began to work it and began making out with me right in the doorway. I shut the door, walked her over to the couch and she pretty much pounced on me and she rode my cock. She still had a skirt on but I pulled her top down to let her tits out. It was fucking hot and we were having wild sex! However she wasn’t as discreet as me, and she was gasping quite loudly as I pounded her pussy. I should have got her to quieten down but I was so fucking lost in the moment, my meat was aching to blow. And then I heard footsteps down the stairs, fast and heavy. I quickly pushed her off and jumped up to get some clothes… only to see my naked dad looking down at us from halfway up the staircase. I think he thought there was a break-in or something! And I saw his dick hanging there between the bannisters! Even from downstairs I could see that it was bigger than mine, chunky as hell! I guess I’d never expected it to be so big, I had not really thought about it before so I was really surprised! It was a big chunky dick with a thick foreskin over his head, unlike any dick I’d seen. And I was busted. Dad was furious, he could’ve killed me! But in a moment of self awareness I could see he was a little bit shy and he covered up his cock with his hand but he was bellowing, the entire household was woken! The girl was so red faced, she quickly put her shoes back on and ran out apologising to my dad (whilst trying not to look at *it* directly) and I was in serious trouble with my parents for weeks!
But there was something about that night that stayed with me. Seeing my dad naked like that, and I guess him seeing me with a hard and wet cock, something I never expected him to see… it triggered something in me. A few months later I started seeing a girl and within weeks of dating, the sex was already getting a bit boring, but she was a good girl and I had already officially called her my girlfriend, so I kept it going because I had no real reason to break it off. .. But during sex I needed more stimulation, and eventually I found it. I found myself thinking..about dad watching me fuck her. It was weird but it actually got me more turned on to imagine him being there in the room. Initially I tried blocking out the thoughts because it seemed sick, but when I was struggling to maintain a hard on, I just let myself entertain those thoughts, and I found my cock was tensening harder the more I focused on those thoughts. 

Over the following weeks, my fantasies developed and they became about me and dad spit roasting her together and more… Because we were dating, my parents couldn’t say anything about me sleeping with her under their roof besides be discreet and have some respect for everyone else in the house. Dad said he liked her, and told me that I’m punching above my weight with her because she’s a looker. Although I wasn’t head over heels over her, I really liked to hear my dad say this and I kinda wished he’d steal her from me. Kinda strange right?
There were occasions when I knew my dad was upstairs and I started to do some sexy stuff with my girlfriend, and hoped that my dad was listening in or would “accidentally” walk in or something. I even teased her about how my dad might walk in, and I joked about how he might try and steal her. I know it sounds kinda gross, but I obviously didnt make it out like I was being serious. It was just a joke and she found it funny and said “shut upppp” and giggled. But it genuinely got me hard saying it to her. I wanted her to seduce him so bad. I wanted to see him get hard over her and watch him fuck her.

Over time, those fantasies were what kept me going, and they got more and more intimate in my head, and when alone, I found myself watching videos of double penetration. I imagined me and my dad’s cocks rubbing against each other inside her pussy, then dad pulling out and me jerking him off to completion. But I got so lost down this rabbit hole that it got to the point where my girlfriend suddenly didn’t even seem necessary in the equation anymore, I started to see her as an obstruction. One day the rest of my family were out and pure curiosity brought me to go through the dirty laundry and look at my dad’s underwear. He had a pair of white briefs, (which from the sounds of things is what all older dad’s wear). I do not know what I was hoping to see, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a slight impression from where the fabric had been stretched around his big cock, and I felt kinda excited, if a bit uncertain. I put them on, let my own cock fill the pouch. After I shook away my initial shame, I got so hard from being where my dad’s dick had been. Normally this wouldnt have even crossed my mind but now it was like the most amazing discovery. I was so turned on that I jerked off inside the briefs, then lay them on the floor and started to grind my cock against them. I let my big hard cock slide against the cotton as I thrust. Right at the last moment I turned over and shot jizz all the way up my chest, even hitting my chin! I couldn’t remember the last time I had shot like this. Because I enjoyed it so much, I did it time and time again, like a hobby. Before I knew it, I was sniffing them too. Then my next discovery was jerking off in his dirty socks as well, turned out that turned me on too, then I was fucking his sneakers, then I was going through the family photo albums and finding any pics with dad by a pool or on a beach, looking at his bulge and jerking off to that. I tried to justify it to myself that it was just curiosity, just a phase, just fascination…

It was shortly after I broke it off with my girlfriend that I started to admit to myself that I had some homosexual feelings for my dad. Trust me, I still find it weird and I question myself all the time.

I started Google searching about it to see if there were more people like me and that’s when I found reddit and gay incest pages and it all felt so relatable to me. I couldn’t believe how much of this stuff I’d done other people had done too. It’s inspired me to write up all my experiences.

If you have any questions please feel free to ask em, just understand that some personal details I cannot go into.

While at work with Dad, alone together, he told me I’m mad for breaking up with her, I joked that if he likes her so bad he can have her. He joked “I might have to take you up on that offer”. “You dirty old man!” I laughed. “Well she told me that she thinks you’re cute so you may have a shot” I said. Dad laughed. And then I said “you missed your opportunity to show her your bits like you did that other girl I was seeing”. To which dad said “I’m not sure she’s ready to see what a real man looks like”. I jabbed dad in the ribs and said “hey what’s that supposed to mean?!”, but I felt my dick beginning to grow just because of dad making a lewd remark. Dad didn’t answer so I commented “I still can’t get over the fact that you showed that other girl your cock and balls”. And dad was like “Yes but I don’t think it was my actions that were most shameful that night” he said sternly. “Point taken” I replied.

His Lordship’s Desires

The Midwich Gallery was my favorite room on the first floor of Cummington Manor. Paintings from a hundred years ago and more. The stunning architecture and wood-work were stunning. On this particular day, two days after Mr. Cumming senior passed away. I saw a stranger seemingly charging right at me in the main hall. The man came up to me and slapped my face. 

“So, you’re the bastard whore who killed my father.”

I guessed he was his Lordship’s younger brother, Coxton Cumming. Estranged from the family, he’d had been disinherited and was a known and dishonorable cad by all accounts. “Death by butthole!!” He screamed in my face.

Then this large man grabbed me by my shirt and threw me against a wall. He grabbed my bulge and squeezed hard. I yelped from the pain. He slapped me again, picked me up and opened the door to the library. 

Roughly slammed me down on a table and began ripping off my clothes. My shirt, he ripped apart. Pawing at my trouser buttons until he just ripped my fly open, buttons flying in all directions. Roughly yanked them down and literally tore my briefs from my nubile naked boy body. “So … yer bum pussy is a weapon, we’ll see about that!

Curiously, my cock was throbbing.

Coxton dropped his pants and boxers. Spreading my legs apart he recklessly jammed his cockhead into my anus . I tried to clench my boy hole to stop him but he nailed his cock deep into me. I screamed out in pain as he applied no lube and like all the Cumming men had a very large wanker. When he slapped my balls around, I reached for his balls and squeezed. His hand met my face with a stinging slap. My only hope was to get him to cum as fast as I could. So I started fucking, bucking myself on his manhood.

All at once the telltale signs of a man about to cum reached my ears. He increased his pace, “AAGGHHH!!!” I felt his cum shooting into my arse with force. Pulling out his cock from my hole, he grabbed my hair and pulled my head to his cum covered cock and shoved it in my mouth. Forcing me to lick his hot thick cum. But when he started ramming it in my mouth too aggressively, I had to respond. I heard a door open. My cue to bite his dick and I did. 

His cock pulled out, damn fast. His hand came down to strike me but it was grabbed by a tall handsome blond-haired man. The villain’s arms were put behind his back holding him tight. I stood up and punched Coxton in the face.

The man pushed the cad to the floor and pulled out a gun. Peeves at this point entered, aiming his gun at the bounder as well. “Take him to Manor gate. Tell Woody never to let this man in again. I’m sure he did so because of Mr. Cumming’s death.”

“Very good, sir.”

Turning back to Coxton he raged “Listen here you proper git, pull up your fucking pants! Walk five feet in front of Peeves. If he so much as turns his head, Peeves, shoot him. And know this Coxton, your father didn’t leave you a tuppence.”

“Let’s go, you wanker.” Coxton left the room with Peeves behind him. “I’ve wanted to shoot you since you were a teenager when you hid my dentures!”

Removing a hanky from his jacket the handsome gent wiped blood from my face and body. “I am Mr. Felching, his Lordship’s solicitor. His Lordship was right, you are a very beautiful young man.”

Fleching carried me to his own bedroom, tended to my wounds, put fresh underwear on me gave me his robe and tucked me into bed. My new friend kissed my forehead and I whispered, “Thank you for rescuing me.”

As Mr. Felching spoke, he removed his shirt, shoes, socks and pants. “I see why his Lordship is smitten with you.” In his tight briefs, he crawled under the covers with me and we cuddled.

“Does he live here?”

“Oh, no. Five years ago, Coxton was caught stealing possessions from the Manor and selling them to pawnbrokers.” Our lips touched and we kissed, I loved his tongue in my mouth. His body was so muscular and hard. A wonderful body to snuggle with. We fell alseep.

His Lordship’s Men

They were sleeping when I opened Moe’s bedroom door. Moe is my pet name for my solicitor/lover Jack Felching. When we were at school together, he was always saying, “I’m just a regular Moe” the nickname stuck. Slowly I pulled the sheet  down. Such a beautiful body. I leaned in and took the man’s soft cock in my mouth. 

The boy stirred, slowly opening his eyes. His lips formed a sexy smile, he too leaned in and together we kissed with Moe’s cock between our lips. He swallowed the uncut cock while I laid a kiss upon the lips of my sleepy prince. 

Thee boy watched me take all my clothes off while I watch him beating I jacking his now erect cock. Moe opened his eyes. I walked around the bed and got on it. Now the boy was between us. We were kissing and caressing each other. 

Our boy pulled the sheet down and grabbed both of our cocks, jacked us off. I saw Moe reach for the oil bottle and then put some on his fingers. I spread the boy’s legs. Swirling the oil in and around his pink hole. Moe greased up his dick as I saw pre-cum drip from it

“I can’t wait for his boy hole any longer.” He repositioned the boy so his head was in my crotch he grabbed hold of my stiff John Thomas, while Moe’s cock entered the boy’s quivering quim. The boy let out a passionate moan. His took a fair amount of my cock down his throat and looked up to my eyes. I smiled brightly. When Moe’s entire cock was deep inside he slowly started rocking his hips. Happily sucking my dick I picked up the speed.

“While he is tight there’s a stretchiness to his rectum.”

Moe picked up his pace. “Is this uncomfortable?

“No sir.” Of course with my cock in his mouth it sounded like, “Moe fur!”

The three of us got into a sweet rhythm. The boy expressed his joy in getting “spit-roasted” A cock in each hole. No butt slamming today. His Lordship and Moe decided since the boy was savagely attacked by “The criminal” as he called his brother.

Moe started putting more energy into his stokes. Continuously moaning the boy started pulling on his own cock. Moe’s cockus went in came out, went in and came out, getting faster with each sweet stroke until I was surprised to hear, “Fuck my hole! Fuck me, Moe. I want your cum.” His breathing increased. Getting close. Though Moe didn’t pound, his motions were fast enough that he felt the rising of cum from his balls.

At the exact same time, I spewed my man nectar down the boy’s waiting throat, I caught his cum in my palm and ate it up. Moe shook as he squirted his a big wad of jism upthat tender hole. The boy’s cum tasted like almonds with salt. Moe dug two fingers into his boy ass and scooped out some cum. “Want to taste my spooge, boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Moe stuck his fingers into the boy’s mouth, mixing with my spent load. Peeves entered the room with a tray. Towels. 3 Washcloths. A bowl of water. He laid the tray down and departed.
We men cleaned up. “Is this the first time you have been with two men?”

“Yes. And this experience has made me ponder and … do you think my butt hole could take two cocks??”

Moe and I turned our faces to each other, smiling. “Did you just get hard?”

I answered, “Instantly.” I applied oil on my dick.

“He’s got a heavy dose of my cum up there. Plus asswipe’s cum up there. We can squirt some more oil up his chute too. That’ll help. And slick up our cockus.”

“Very good. Moe lay on your back. Go ahead boy, sit on his dick, go half way down. Lean forward.” I got between Moe’s feet guiding my cock to his boy cunt. Used more oil. And felt my Moe’s dick and slide next to it. Pushing my cock in more, both dicks eased in. The next inch was harder and the kid was groaning, a mixture of this really hurts and bloody hell I have two dicks up my anus.

Moe and I exchanged a glance and silently agreed. I began withdrawing from his warm bud like anus. As I did, Moe joined in and we pulled out. “Ahhhhhhhhh!”

“That was amazing. I think if I wasn’t raped earlier I might have been able to stand more. Amazing feeling.”

“You’ve been here a month, and have earned the right to be called by your proper name, Winston. The staff will refer to you as my son.”

Moe spoke, “Sir Cumming is adopting you, so that he may have an heir.”

As Lord of the Manor I hugged Winston and passionately kissed him with love and honor.

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If you liked my tale and want more stories with these characters, let me know in the comments.

This story is a work of fiction.  It is a gay bondage fantasy, which is not based on real life.   Any resemblance, therefore, to anyone living or dead is purely accidental. Furthermore, this story depicts males on male sexual practices; stop reading now if you are offended by this.

All characters depicted in this story are willing participants in all the scenes they appear in.  No one was coerced or paid to appear in this story.

In no way do the practices and themes depicted in this story reflect the author’s beliefs or sexual practices.  If you choose to act out scenes from this story, please do it responsibly.  Always practice safe sex; you owe it not only to yourself but to your sexual partners.  If you think you have injured yourself or think you have contracted a sexual disease, or have any other health concerns.  Would you please consult with a health professional?

Please don’t contact the author with commercial requests or advertising; I can find enough of that on the internet to fill my every want, need, and or desire. However, do contact me if you want to talk about the story, ask questions, send messages, or give feedback.  Feel free to make suggestions, but I do not guarantee that any of them will be used, particularly if they require any of the characters to act outside of the story’s parameters or their bio.

If you do not like this story, go and read someone else’s.

Thanks.   

This was the hardest chapter I have tried to write in any of my little stories because scenes from future chapters were clogging up my head and I almost despaired of ever getting this chapter finished.  To the fan that suggested the other storyline to me, thanks, I’ve enjoyed writing this story immensely and can’t wait to get to the other chapters and put them down on paper.

It has also distracted me from my health issues and has been a huge respite for me, so I didn’t have to worry about blood clots and injections and so on and so forth, and in a strange way, this story has kept me company as well when I have sorely needed it.  So, once again I give you my heart-felt thanks.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as I know you will love the next ones, well at lest I know I am.

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Lucas’ Life as an Indentured Slave of the State

Lucas slowly woke up and started as he became aware of the upper bunk just above him, seemingly only millimetres from his face; Lucas was just about to panic when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  “Take it easy big boy,” Raj said to Lucas as he turned his head and looked at Raj.  “What the fuck….” Lucas began, but last night came flooding back to him in glorious technicolour.  It was followed quite closely by images of what happened to him yesterday, and all Lucas wanted to do was cry.  “Take it easy, big fella,” Raj repeated, knowing full well where Lucas was probably up to in his memory of yesterday.  “Now, in a minute, the other guys are going to start getting up, and you’re going to be able to get out; remember our conversation last night?”  Lucas, not trusting himself to talk just yet, nodded his head to acknowledge Raj’s question.

“Now, the morning routine is simple; we will all have breakfast when everyone is up.  Then we get our harnesses, jockstrap, and our assigned rikshaw and head out to our assigned stations around the city.”  Lucas rubbed his neck where he’d slept on the padlock, “hurts, doesn’t it?”  Raj asked.  Lucas just looked up at him, “Don’t worry; you only have to wear the harness for a couple of days; it reinforces the fact that we are I.S.’s.  Then they remove it every night like our jockstraps and give them back in the morning.”

Lucas had become aware of the guys above him jumping to the floor or climbing down the bunks and the passing of so much naked man-flesh, which he found a bit disconcerting.  Not that he’s a prude, he’s paraded around many a locker room in his time, but here it seemed as though everyone wanted him to look at their cock and balls.  Lucas didn’t think he’s ever felt so relieved when he saw the upper bunk being lifted up and locked into place.  Finally, he felt as though he could breathe properly for the first time since he’d laid down in his bunk.

“Come on, big fella, breakfast time,” Raj said as he patted him on the shoulder and walked away from Lucas.  Lucas rolled out of his bunk and trailed along behind Raj, and Lucas marvelled at the muscles of Raj’s back flexing and contracting as he was walking in front of him.  Lucas was also mesmerised by the globes of Raj’s arse as they flexed and relaxed as Raj walked.  Sure, Lucas has seen a lot of naked guys in his lifetime; he does play a lot of sports, well, that is, he played a lot of sports.  He’s constantly changed in the locker rooms with the other guys, but this is the first time he’s ever really noticed the play of someone else’s muscles, particularly another male.  “Hey,” Raj said, breaking Lucas out of his reverie, and Lucas was sure he looked as guilty as hell and flamed red instantly.  Raj, for his part, didn’t seem to pick up on Lucas’ discomfort but said, “haven’t you forgotten something?” as he turned and put a restraining hand on Lucas’ chest.  “What?” Lucas asked.  “Your bunk,” was all Raj said.  “Oh,” Lucas said as he turned around, very red-faced, and went back and lifted his bunk up against the wall until it clicked into place; then, Lucas trotted after Raj to catch up with him.  Lucas joined the line behind Raj, who gave him a bowl when they came to the pile of bowls, and Raj showed him how to use the dispenser for their I.S. approved food, which came in the form of hard grey pellets that looked a lot like chook food.  Raj explained that there is a food dispenser at every ‘station’ so they didn’t have to come back here during the day.  Raj placed his bowl under the dispenser and held his wrist under the reader, and his bowl was filled with I.S. approved food.  Lucas, in his turn, put his bowl under the dispenser and held his wrist under the scanner, but nothing happened.  Raj didn’t say anything; he just took the bowl off Lucas, placed it on the self under the outlet, grabbed hold of Lucas’ other wrist, and held that under the scanner; this time, Lucas’ bowl was filled up with food.  “The dispenser needs to be able to read your microchip,” Raj explained.  “Oh,” was all Lucas could think of to say in reply.

Both boys went and found a spot at one of the tables while Lucas tried to come to terms with so much naked male flesh, not that Lucas was gay; he had a bevy of girls that he slept with often.  Well, used to sleep with often, he thought to himself ruefully.  With a body like his, he had to beat the rest off with a stick, not that he was complaining about that mind.  When Lucas and his mates went camping, they spent a lot of time naked in front of each other.  But this situation was different; Lucas decided that while they were camping, it was their choice, whereas now that choice was taken away and it was now rigidly enforced nudity.  But it was the sheer number of naked guys in one place that Lucas was trying really hard to deal with.  Lucas surmised that there had to be a couple of hundred guys in the barn.  “Now,” Raj continued, “you can try to eat it dry, but dry cardboard would be easier to eat and probably taste better than this shit.”  Having said that, Raj dumped his drink on the pellets and began to eat, and Lucas followed suit.  They put their empty bowls in the container on the sink provided and joined the line for the toilets.  Then having been fed and toileted, they joined the lines for the harnesses, jockstraps, and rickshaws.  When Raj was given his harness, jockstrap, and rickshaw, he bid Lucas a good day as he secured his harness and pulled his jockstrap on and adjusted himself.  Raj grabbed the shafts of the rickshaw he was assigned and ran out the door after everyone else.

When it was Lucas’s turn, he was given his jockstrap and was told to go and see one of the other Correction Officers, who would tell him who he would be working with today.

Lucas walked over to the Corrections Officer, “I was told to come and see you…,” Lucas began, but that was as far as he got before he was writhing on the floor and trying desperately not to bite his tongue or piss himself.  When he had himself under control enough, Lucas got up off the floor and went to open his mouth again but stopped himself just in time when he saw the Corrections Officer point the taser in his direction.

“’Bout time you started to learn your lessons, boy, what the fuck do you want?”

“Um, I’m new….” Lucas started.  “Obviously,” the Corrections Officer cut him off.”  “Um,” Lucas began again, “I’m supposed to be teamed up with another Indentured Slave to learn the ropes,” Lucas said as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

The Corrections Officer looked Lucas up and down, then called over his shoulder, “Hey, Sanchez, get the fuck over here!”  Lucas was surprised to see that Sanchez didn’t look that much older than himself.  “Yes, sir,” Sanchez said as he approached the Corrections Officer and Lucas.  “This here is your tag along for the next two weeks.”

“Yes, sir,” Sanchez responded before he looked over at Lucas, “come on,” Sanchez said to Lucas as he walked towards the big roller door of the barn to get his harness, jockstrap, and rickshaw.  When both boys were clad in their harnesses and jockstraps, Sanchez led the way over to a line of tandem rickshaws.  Sanchez got between two of the shafts and indicated to Lucas that he should get in on the other side of the centre shaft, and when he was in position, both boys picked up the shafts.  “Ok, now, in here, we only walk, ok?”  Lucas nodded his understanding, and with a ‘let’s go’ from Sanchez, both boys walked towards the roller door.  “Now, we’re going to turn right, so you need to walk a bit faster, ok?”  Lucas started to walk faster, while Sanchez almost walked on the spot until they had turned right enough for Sanchez.  “Ok, now we’re going to turn left, ok?”  Again, Lucas nodded his understanding.  “So, this time, you almost walk on the spot while I’ll increase my speed until we’ve turned left.  Ok, do you think you have that down?” Sanchez asked Lucas.  Lucas nodded his understanding.  Ok, then boy, let’s get the fuck out of here,” and having said that Sanchez lined them up for the roller door.  Before Lucas knew what was happening, he was walking outside in nothing but a flimsy leather harness, a jockstrap that for him didn’t cover a whole hell of a lot, and leather shoes for all the world to see.

They walked out of the roller door and turned left on Albert St, crossing over the road until they stepped onto the old tram track and passed through a big built-up stop, which was an interchange station between the rickshaws and the tram network.  When they got to the corner of Albert St and Nicholson St, Lucas was going to keep going, but suddenly he couldn’t make the rickshaw move.  “Ok, lesson number one.  You have to obey the traffic lights,” Sanchez began.  “What traffic lights,” Lucas retorted.  “Those ones there are currently red for us,” Sanchez replied as he pointed to the traffic light on the corner they were on.  As well as the other set of lights on the opposite side of Nicholson St.  “I understand there is no other traffic allowed into the city,” Sanchez started up again, “but if we don’t obey the traffic signs, then there would be total anarchy on the streets of the city.  Besides, just like if you were driving a car, you could get a ticket for breaking a road rule, like not stopping at a traffic light, for example, and I can tell you now that your owner is going to be pissed if they have to pay the fine for a ticket.”  Suddenly the lights went green, “ok, come on,” Sanchez said as he began to walk forwards, and Lucas had to double step to keep up.  “We’re going to turn left, so stick your hand out,” Lucas complied and followed the track they were on, slowed his pace to make the left-hand turn, and walked into the first I.S. station.  “Ok,” Sanchez said as they walked into the shade of the covered I. S. station “we’re going over there to leave the rickshaw for a minute,” he said as he pointed to the line of other rickshaws.  “Ok, we’re going to back into that spot there,” Sanchez said as he pointed out a larger space beside the other rickshaws, so walking backwards, the boys made a left-hand turn and left the rickshaw parked with the others in the marked bays.

“Welcome to your first I. S. station,” Sanchez began expansively.  “Fuck off,” Lucas retorted, “I’ve been in plenty of I. S. stations before,” Lucas retorted sarcastically.  “Ah, yes,” Sanchez replied sagely, but you have never been back here before.  So, shut the fuck up and listen.  You, my boy, are now nothing but a chattel of the city of Melbourne.  If you do your time and do not commit another offence, you will get to walk away from this with nothing but some very bad memories, some I. S. markings and a microchip.  However, if you fuck up, then you will become a permanent I. S., and the city of Melbourne can sell you in the ‘Indentured Slave markets’.  And then, my boy, you’ll be a permanent I. S., you will find yourself longing to have these days back and being back here.”  ‘Fat chance,’ Lucas thought to himself.  “As an Indentured Slave of the city,” Sanchez continued, “and if you want to learn the ropes, you will shut the fuck up and listen.”  With that, Sanchez walked away from Lucas, forcing Lucas to take a quick step to catch up with Sanchez again.  “Now, obviously, this is where we leave the rickshaws when they are not in use,” Sanchez said as he indicated the area of the I. S. station they had just left.  “Now, along this side is the urinals,” which consisted of nothing but a stainless-steel trough, which the top outside lip was set about sixty centimetres above the ground.  The trough itself was about twenty centimetres deep, while the splashboard was only ten centimetres above the top of the trough.  This way, the I. S.’s had to stand closer so they don’t mess up the floor, as they would have to clean up any mess they made.  It also didn’t afford the I. S.’s any privacy, as the general public soon learned, shortly after the concept of I. S.’s was instituted and the I. S. stations were built.  If you walked reasonably close to the outside of the urinals, you could watch the I. S.’s taking a piss.  For just that reason, many of the general public walked past with their phones recording the scene as it happened in full view of anyone walking past.  Once again, Lucas flamed red as he remembered how much he and his mates loved doing just that.

Lucas followed Sanchez through a wide opening in a wall, and there they found the food dispensers and bowls and drinking fountains, all of this Sanchez explained to Lucas.  While Lucas, for his part, wanting to get the ‘tour’ over as quick as possible, kept his mouth shut.  There were two toilets if the I. S.’s needed to shit; this time, the wall only came to the top of the toilet’s cistern and was only as wide as the cistern.  So, once again, anyone walking past could watch the I. S.’s as they wiped their arses after taking a shit if that was their bag, of course.  Naturally, there were enough people in the general population that did, in fact, like the sight of a man wiping his shitty arse; consequently, the I. S.’s were filmed and photographed doing that as well.  Finally, they had made their way to the front of the I. S. station, where there was seating for the I. S.’s to sit while they waited to ferry customers around the city.  All of which was patiently explained by Sanchez to Lucas, and a very bored Lucas allowed him to.  “Now, when you enter the I. S. station, you would scan your chip, but as it’s your first day, and I’m showing you the ropes, we don’t have to scan in.  When you scan in, you join the waiting I. S.’s queue; this way, we take it in turns.  Suppose someone wants a particular I. S., then they have to wait until it’s the I. S.’s they want turn.

“Ok, but because it’s your first day, we’re not going to be taking any passengers around the city,” Having said that, Sanchez picked up a few of the ‘not for hire’ signs and led the way back to their rickshaw.  He affixed the signs to both sides and one on the back of the rickshaw.  “Ok,” Sanchez said, “go and have a piss or a drink if you need to; we’re going to leave here in five minutes,” as he pointed up at the clocks set close to the roof of the I. S. station.  With that, Sanchez walked off and got himself ready to take the rickshaw out, while Lucas decided that he needed to have a piss and walked over to the urinal and pulled his cock out of his jockstrap to have a piss.  But he froze in his tracks when he heard a lot of people exclaim, and he looked up at the small crowd of people who had stopped in their tracks, mesmerised not only by his uncommon good looks but also by the size of his uncut cock.  Lucas had always been on the other side of the urinal and never gave the I. S.’s any thought while he watched them pissing.  But now that he was on this side, and being the I. S. who was just trying to relieve himself, he was suddenly piss shy and flamed red instantly.   Much to the amusement of everyone who’d stopped to watch him having a piss, well, trying to at least.  Lucas was surprised as he’s never had a problem whipping his cock out and showing it around the locker room, knowing all the guys were drooling over its size, but he was almost embarrassed in this situation.  Eventually, he was able to push the thought of all the people watching him out of his head and actually produce some piss.  Having finally got a stream of piss to flow; he kept willing himself to finish his piss.  When he finally finished his piss, he felt very relieved as he shook off the drops, stuffed his cock back into his jockstrap, and was still flaming red when he turned around right into a grinning Sanchez.

Laughing, Sanchez turned on his heel, “come on,” was all he said to Lucas as he went off to get their rickshaw.  Both boys stepped between the shafts of the rickshaw and exited out the entrance they entered through; Sanchez steered them around the I. S. station and headed down Spring St.  Sanchez warned Lucas to make sure he kept pace with him as both boys jogged along.  Following the rickshaw tracks, the boys ran through the outside track every time they came to an I. S. station.  The boys turned right into Bourke St, and Lucas was now keeping in step with Sanchez as Lucas tried to ignore all the stares of the people they passed.  After a bit, Sanchez started to slow down, much to the annoyance of Lucas, he could see they had a green light ahead, so if anything, he wanted to pick up the pace to make the lights.  But Sanchez slowed them up so much that they missed the lights, and as both boys stood there with their chests heaving and their bodies glistening with sweat, Sanchez explained himself.  “Look, I get that you probably have done a lot of running and like to set a good pace and keep it up….”  “Got that fuckin’ right, mate,” Lucas cut Sanchez off sarcastically.  “Well,” Sanchez continued, completely ignoring the fact that Lucas had said anything at all, “you need to vary your pace so that you can run all day and make it back to the I. S. stable without killing yourself at the end of the day.  At the moment, the rickshaw is empty and very light, but you get a fat person back there, and you’re pulling that weight all on your own; you’re going to get knackered really quickly if you run around the city as if you have a lit firecracker up your arse.  Got it?” Sanchez said a little testily.

“Ok.  Ok.  I get it.  Sorry,” Lucas replied.

Just then, the lights changed, so both boys ran on together, but now the going was a bit tough as they were trying to run through the Bourke St Mall, and people were just walking all over the place.  So, while Lucas and Sanchez had to stay on the rickshaw path, they were forced to a slow walk to make it through the milling crowd, and Lucas wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt more than one hand caress his naked arse in passing.  But eventually, they made it to the other end of the Mall, and Sanchez took off running up the hill, which caught Lucas a little off-guard.  But he thought he was up to the challenge, but by the time they got to the lights at McKillop St, Lucas had to admit that he was a bit puffed, while Sanchez didn’t seem to be too affected.  Lucas was about to pass a comment, but the lights changed, and Sanchez was off again; they continued down Bourke St and turned left on William St and ran the rest of the way to the I. S. station on the corner of Flinders St.  There wasn’t a corresponding tram line here.  Still, Sanchez explained that the city council decided to have an I. S. station there anyway because it was such a tourist district.  The boys parked the rickshaw and sat down to catch their breath.  After a little while, Lucas stood up and walked over to the food dispensing machine, “Hey, where are you going?” Sanchez called after him.

Lucas stopped and turned around, “I’m just going to get something to eat; I’m a little peckish,” he replied.

“Mate, it’s not even eleven o’clock yet….”

“So?”

“So, if you get your food now, there won’t be anything for you to have for lunch.  Haven’t you got it yet?  We’re not like everyone else outside of here,” Sanchez said exasperatedly.  “We are, I am, you are, nothing but an I. S. we only get three meals a day, and if you have your lunch allotment now, you will have to wait till we return to the ‘barn’ for your evening meal.  Get it?”

“Yeah,” Lucas said as he stood there looking at Sanchez.

“Do you really?” Sanchez asked, his tone softening somewhat as he took pity on Lucas, remembering what his own first day had been like.  “You’re nothing but an Indentured Slave; you only get to eat what the city provides for you.  You only get to toilet wherever the city allows you to and under whatever conditions they’re prepared to provide.  You have to sleep where the city tells you to.  You have to wear what the city provides for you.  You don’t get to make any of these choices yourself; all of this was set down by the state when they embraced the notion of having Indenture Slaves.

Do you understand now?” Sanchez asked Lucas.  “We don’t stop for lunch until about two o’clock, ok?”

“Yeah,” Lucas replied as he hung his head and his shoulders shook with his silent tears.  Lucas walked over and was leaning against one of the posts, looking out over the Yarra River, without really seeing the scene in front of him as he daydreamed of his old life and wondered what his friends were doing now.  They’d probably all be in school now.  Lucas wondered if they were thinking about him and, if so, what they might be thinking about him.  Lucas couldn’t help mentally ‘kicking’ himself for allowing his mates to egg him on, not that it took much, mind you; Lucas loved speed.  Who didn’t at that age, and now here he was, an I. S. for the next four months?  If he’d just kept his big mouth shut, he would have only had two months to serve, but could he keep his big mouth shut?  And look where it’d gotten him, look where he was now, and Lucas tried desperately not to replay his being prepared as an I. S., particularly as it was done in open Court with all those people watching.  Still, it could have been worse, but Lucas couldn’t think how for the life of him.

Sanchez came over and broke Lucas out of his reverie, “Come on, boy, we have to get going.” With that, both boys collected their rickshaw and ran back up the hill of William St.  This time, they turned right onto Collins St and ran up and over the hill as they made their way back up to Spring St.  When they hit Swanston St, they turned left and made their way along Swanston St, which was not quite as bad as the Bourke St Mall, but it came very close.  While they were on Swanston St, it was the first time Lucas had got felt up properly while waiting for the lights to change.  Lucas was just about to turn and give whoever it was a mouthful when the lights changed, and Sanchez was off again, and Lucas had to double step to keep up.  Lucas was going to complain that someone had coped a good feel of his cock, but he thought better of it.

When they got to the I. S. station outside of the City Baths, they stopped to have lunch, and Lucas thought it was about time as he was famished and felt he could easily eat a horse.  While they were eating, Sanchez asked Lucas what had happened, and Lucas very righteously complained that someone had touched him up.  “Come on,” Sanchez retorted incredulously, “that’s what’s got your knickers in a twist?  Fuck mate, grow a fuckin’ pair and get used to it….” Lucas started to open his mouth, but Sanchez cut him off, “did you know that originally, we were supposed to be completely naked?  That we weren’t supposed to have even shoes?  My old man was on the steering committee when the idea about I. S.’s was first talked about, and the original idea was that we were supposed to be completely starkers so that we stood out from the general population.  So be fuckin’ lucky you’re wearing what you are, and of course, they’re going to cop a feel!  Who’s going to stop them?  You?  Stop being such a fairy princess, and man up.  Are you going to tell me that you never thought of feeling up one of the I. S.’s before yesterday?”  Again, Lucas flamed beet red.  “Just as I thought,” Sanchez retorted, “you’re just as bad as they are!  Get out of my sight!  You make me fuckin’ sick!”  With that, Sanchez turned on his heel and found a seat.  While Lucas thought it would be a good idea to give Sanchez some space, and went and found a seat on the other side of the I. S. station.

Sanchez collected Lucas when their break was over, but other than giving Lucas directions, Sanchez barely spoke to Lucas for the rest of the day as they continued their city tour.  Towards the end of the day, they ran up Macarthur St, and as they ran past St Patrick’s cathedral, Lucas could see the monster I. S. station.  It was touted as the biggest I. S. station in Melbourne, particularly as three tram lines and the I. S.’s ran through it.  It started at the corner of Macarthur St and took up the entire block to Lansdowne St.  Lucas couldn’t believe his eyes; he’d never had reason to come to this end of the city before, so he had no idea just how big the original tram stop used to be.  It’s even bigger than the I. S. station outside Flinders St station in Swanston St.  Because the I. S. station was in the middle of the road in Victoria Pde.  Here the I. S.’s had something resembling privacy, as only the general public that needed to use the I. S. station was hanging around.  So here, the I. S.’s could toilet in peace and not have to worry about someone trying to take photos of them toileting.

Sanchez had taken them there purposefully, just so that Lucas could see it and learn to navigate his way around it; the only entrance the I. S.’s can use is the Macarthur St entrance, as the other three entrances are used by trams.  So, if they have to travel up or down Victoria Pde or St depending on which way there were travelling, the I. S.’s have to exit on Macarthur St.  Then move around the outside of the stop and head in the direction they needed to go.  Suppose they want to travel down Brunswick St. In that case, once again, they have to exit the stop on Macarthur St and run around the outside of the stop to continue down Brunswick St.  As Sanchez and Lucas were leaving the stop, it was getting late, so they turned right onto Albert St and headed back to the ‘barn’, Lucas couldn’t be happier.

Both boys removed their jockstraps as soon as they walked through the roller door, and Sanchez removed his leather harnesses, but Lucas couldn’t as they were locked on with a padlock.  “Ok, at the end of the day, you need to clean your rickshaw.  So come on,” Sanchez said as he stepped between the shafts of their rickshaw, and when Lucas had joined him, Sanchez pointed to an area just beside the roller door with hoses on reels attached to the wall.  Sanchez steered them towards the hoses.  When they were in the area, Sanchez explained that there was a hoist for them to use to ensure all the rickshaw was cleaned down.  Sanchez got some rags and handed one of the hoses to Lucas before he got to work on his side of the rickshaw.  Lucas got sprayed with water occasionally, but he figured it didn’t matter too much as he was naked.  Lucas set to and wiped down his side of the rickshaw and dried it off with a shammy.  When he’d finished his side, Sanchez came and examined Lucas’ side and stated that he was pretty impressed considering that it was Lucas’ first time.

Sanchez explained as he lifted one foot and put it on the footboard of the rickshaw, so now his cock and balls were hanging freely, and Lucas thought he could see Sanchez’s butt hole.  “When you’ve finished checking out my arse,” Sanchez began, and although he wasn’t checking out Sanchez’s arse, Lucas still flamed red.  “Go around to the other side,” which Lucas did as instructed, “now put your foot up here.”  So Lucas put one of his feet up on the footboard, just like Sanchez.  “Now,” Sanchez began, “although we didn’t have any customers today, we still have to check the rickshaw for any rubbish or valuables left by our non-existent customers.” Sanchez got Lucas to run his hand between the back of the cushioned seat and the padded back of the seat.  As he moved his hand further over to Sanchez’s side of the rickshaw, Lucas’ cock, which was hanging just as free in the breeze as Sanchez’s was, banged on the lip that people had to step over to get into the rickshaw.   As he’d knocked his cock a couple of times and heard Sanchez smirking at him, Lucas’s cock began to thicken and grow.  While Lucas grew redder and redder the bigger his cock got, and the more he tried not to hit his cock on anything, the more he hit his cock on everything.  Lucas looked over at Sanchez, who now had a wolfish grin plastered all over his face as he seemed unable to take his eyes off Lucas’ growing cock.  It finally reached full mast and now just bobbed around in front of Lucas as he moved around cleaning the rikshaw.

Finally, the boys finished cleaning the rickshaw, and with Lucas’ cock pointing the way, the two boys pushed the rickshaw into its place to store overnight and went and had a shower.  By the time a lot of the other guys were returning with their rickshaws for the evening, Lucas’ cock had finally deflated.  Much to the relief of Lucas but to the disappointment of Sanchez.  Lucas just milled around with everyone else while they waited for their evening meal, and Lucas was desperate to see Raj.   Lucas wasn’t really sure how much he wanted to see Raj, so he could talk about his day until he saw Raj trot through the roller door, and Lucas fought the urge to cry when he spotted Raj.  Impatiently Lucas waited for Raj to finish cleaning his rickshaw and have a shower before he loped over and said hello.

“Hey there, big boy,” Raj began when he saw Lucas heading in his direction, “how was your day?”

“Um, it was ok.”  Lucas lied.

“You were paired with Sanchez, weren’t you?” Raj asked a very surprised Lucas.

“Um, yes, how did you know?” Lucas stammered as he looked at a smiling Raj.

“You guys ran past me a couple of times today, and you didn’t stop to say ‘hi’ once,” Raj said in a mock-serious tone.

“Oh,” a stunned Lucas replied, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.  I was just so busy.  I didn’t notice.  Um, I mean….”

Raj came to Lucas’ aid, “don’t worry about it, big boy, you were busy,” Raj finished as he smiled at Lucas, and draping an arm over Lucas’ shoulders, the boys went and got their evening portion of their daily intake of approved I. S. meal, or what passed as their meal.  Again, the boys found two spare seats at one of the tables and sat down to eat; this time, Lucas didn’t think twice about dumping his drink on top of the pellets they had for their meals.  While the boys ate, they talked about their various days.  They took their used bowls over to the sink, added them to the growing pile of used bowls, and found an easy chair to share and relax in before going to bed.  “Um, Raj,” Lucas began.

“Yeah, what’s up, mate?” Raj asked.

“Um, who does all the cleaning around here?”

“Um, we do; why?”
“Um, I was just thinking about the pile of bowls and the cleaning and stuff, and who did that.  I’m sure the Correction Officers don’t clean up after us.”

“You got that right, mate; they certainly don’t.” “Oh,” was all Lucas could think to say in reply.  “If you look over at the sink area,” Raj started as he pointed in the general direction, “you can see the two guys who are on the roster to clean them this week,” and as he looked over in the direction, Raj indicated, he could see two I. S. guys were doing the dishes.  “And if you look over there,” Raj continued as he pointed towards the roller doors, and as Lucas looked, he could see two guys sweeping the floor.  “Oh, I see,” Lucas said, and as he looked around the ’barn’, he could now see other I. S.’s cleaning different areas or straightening them so that they were more presentable.  “Oh, back home….” Lucas began, but Raj cut him off instantly.

“Never, ever talk about what life was like before you ended up here….”

“But, I was only going to say….” Lucas butted in, but Raj just cut him off again.

“Nobody here!  None of the I. S.’s talk about their life before they broke the law and ended up here.  No one talks about what they’re going to do after they’ve served their time and gone ‘back to society’ because the truth is that once you’re an I. S., you’re always an I. S. in the eyes of the society out there.  Even the guys who go to the trouble and expense to get their brands removed, their demeanour will always out them as a former I. S., and in truth, not even their friends will accept them as anything else but an Indentured Slave.  That’s the sad truth of our society now, so no, I don’t want to know what life was like for you before you ended up here, and I certainly don’t want to know what you think your life might be like when you have done your time.  Is that understood?”  Raj asked Lucas, and Lucas nodded his understanding.  The boys sat in silence for a while until Raj asked Lucas what his day had been like; and Lucas told Raj all the things he had learnt, and he even told him about getting felt up in Swanston St, and Raj just laughed at him.  So, the boys passed the time before the lights were dimmed to indicate they needed to turn in for the night.

All the boys lined up at their respective toilets and, having used the toilet in full view of everyone, went over and lined up to get into their bunks.  “Now,” Raj began as he knelt by Lucas’ bunk, “I don’t want you to dwell on what might be after all of this because you’re only going to make yourself upset.  Ok?” Raj asked Lucas.  While a very glum Lucas nodded back at him.

“There’s a good boy,” Raj said as he ruffled Lucas’ hair and prepared to climb the rack of bunks as all the other boys got into their bunks until the only one against the wall was Raj’s.  Raj climbed the stack of bunks and, lowering his bunk, got himself into it.  Lucas felt he was a bit more used to having the top bunk so close and didn’t feel so claustrophobic.  He rolled over and drifted off to sleep, eventually.

And so, the first week passed in much the same way; Sanchez and Lucas took the tandem Rickshaw out and ran around the city; some nameless, faceless person always felt him up every time they ran down Swanston St.  Lucas was sure that was why Sanchez always steered them down Swanston St eventually.

The second week they actually ferried customers around the city.  He hated to admit it, but Lucas discovered that Sanchez was right; it was a lot more difficult running the rickshaw around the city with someone sitting in it.  Lucas shared the tandem rickshaw for a total of four weeks before he ‘graduated’ to pulling a rickshaw on his own.  His first couple of customers were rude and didn’t hold back making comments about Lucas’ physic, particularly his small but tight bubble butt.  Raj talked to Lucas every night about it until Lucas developed a tough skin and learnt to ignore what his customers said about him or to him.

Two months into Lucas’ ordeal, he was relishing that he was almost finished his sentence and began thinking about the end of his sentence and what he might be able to or not to do afterwards.  Lucas was leaning against one of the poles that held the roof up and was daydreaming about his future when he heard a familiar voice break into his reverie.  As he felt a hand slide down his back and towards his small but tight bubble butt, “well mate, fancy running into you here, and don’t you look fuckin’ great all decked out in your Indentured Slaves, get up,” the voice said.  By now, the hand had encountered Lucas’ small tight bubble butt, and the owner of the hand and the voice forced their little finger into the Lucas’ arse crack as the hand travelled over Lucas’ bubble butt.  Until the little finger found Lucas’ tight anus and tried to force its way into it, but not having any luck, the owner of the voice and hand swapped fingers and tried to force his ring finger into Lucas’ anus.  But it wasn’t until the owner of the voice and hand used his middle finger that he was able to overcome Lucas’ anus and force its way into Lucas’ poop chute.

“What the fuck,” Lucas said as he jumped half a step forward, thereby forcing the finger to fall out of his arse as he turned to face the owner of said finger.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he said as he turned around and faced one of his oldest friends, Ashleigh.  “Ash, fuck off, ok,” Lucas said with some venom in his voice.

“Hey,” he replied as he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “I was just being friendly,” Ash finished.

“Yeah, well, you can just fuckin’ quit it, ok,” Lucas replied, still a little bit more than just being pissed at his friend.  “What are you doing here anyway?  Don’t you have school or something?”

“Nah, day off,” Ash replied airily, so I had to do some shopping, so I came into the city.  Hey, mate, I never dreamed of running into you, though; howz ya bin?” Ash asked.

Lucas felt a bit bad for snipping at his friend, relaxed a bit and said that he’d been ok and was looking forward to the day when he could put all of this behind him.  So, the old friends talked together for a bit.  “Hey,” Ash said, “I’m meeting up with the boys later; how’d you like to come?”

Lucas just looked down at his near-naked body and said he couldn’t.  “Of course, you can,” Ash replied, getting a bit excited.  “How many other guys are in front of you?” Ash asked, and Lucas did a quick headcount and told Ash how many other guys were in front of him, and Ash told him it’d be alright he’d swing it.  So, Ash waited, and when the guy just before Lucas was booked, Ashe stood up and swiped his credit card and booked Lucas out.  Ash chucked his backpack into the rickshaw and climbed in after it, and when he was settled, Lucas began to run out of the I. S. Interchange.  “So, we’re we going?” Lucas asked over his shoulder.

“Um, I was going to meet the boys down in South Melbourne.  Is that too far for you to run because if it is,” Ash hurried on before Lucas could cut him off, “I can get the boys to meet us somewhere else?”

“Fuck off,” Lucas laughed over his shoulder, “I can do that easily.”

So, the two boys talked on their way to South Melbourne, and as it got later in the day, it got darker, so much so that by the time they reached the meeting place on the boardwalk at the beach, it was so dark now that the street lighting was on.  As they ran along the boardwalk, Lucas could see the group of their friends up ahead and poured on a bit more speed until he pulled up just short of the group.

The boys turned around and called out their greetings to the pair as they came over and crowded around the rickshaw and Lucas.  Lucas, for his part, greeted all his friends as if they were long lost friends, that was until Ash climbed down from the rickshaw; he walked up to Lucas and slapped him across the face stating, “keep a civil tongue in your head, when you’re talking to your better’s boy.”

Lucas looked at Ash, stunned as he rubbed his face where he could still feel the sting from Ash’s slap, and with that, all the boys, except for Lucas, broke into raucous laughter, and as one, they all began to paw at Lucas.  Some of the boys tried valiantly to crack his arse open, while another rubbed his cock and balls through the fabric of his jockstrap.  One of the others pushed the hand aside as they yanked Lucas’ jockstrap down towards his ankles, allowing Lucas’ cock and balls to hang freely in the breeze, to great cheers from the other boys.  Now it was a sexual feeding frenzy as all the boys tried to touch as much of Lucas’ flesh as they possibly could, all the while laughing at Lucas’ discomfort as to what was happening to him.  Lucas finally managed to get all the hands off his naked body as he broke free of the pack, not even realising that he was sporting a huge erection, “what the fuck do you all think you’re doing?” he demanded of the group.

“Now listen here, boy,” Ash said, emphasising the ‘boy’, “we’re doing exactly what you taught us to do.  Isn’t that right, gents?” Ash asked the guys that surrounded them, and all the guys to a person agreed heartily.

“What the fuck?” Lucas exploded, “I taught you how to have fun with the Indentured Slaves, not Ash….”

But Ash cut him off, “and what do you think you are, boy, hmm, near as I can tell you are an Indentured Slave, so we as people can do whatever the fuck we like, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.  Get him, boys,” Ash said to the rest of them.  But before any of them could move, Lucas pulled his fist back and hit Ash right on the nose, and everyone present could hear the cartilage break.  With blood pouring out of his nose, Ash looked up at Lucas and said, “got you.”  But the moment was lost, seemingly on everyone, as they all tried to grab hold of Lucas to restrain him, but it seemed to turn into an all-out brawl as Lucas lay about himself freely with his fists.  Ash wasn’t the only casualty in the brawl either.

Because they used electric vehicles now, none of the boys heard the Police arrive until they pulled up just short of the fighting boys and turned on their flashing blue lights.  All the boys broke apart and seemingly stood around a little shamed face.  “Alright, can someone explain to me what is going on here?” one of the Police Officers asked as he approached the boys.

‘Well, I’m glad to see you, Officer….” Lucas began before the Police Officer cut him off.

“You’d do well to learn your place, boy, and for god’s sake, cover yourself up; you are in the presence of free people you know, and while this behaviour,” the police Officer continued waving his hand up and down Lucas’ naked body.  “Maybe tolerated in the ‘stables’, it will not work out here in the real world!”  With that, the Police Officer turned to Ash and asked him what had happened.

“Well, Officer,” a rather nasally sounding Ash began, “we were all friends before….”  And the Police Officer nodded in encouragement; Ash continued.  “And when I bumped into the I. S. here in the city, I thought it’d be good to get the guys together to talk about old times.”  All the guys present nodded their heads emphatically at that point, “but when we got here, the I. S. there,” Ash said, indicating Lucas, “became violent and started to thump everyone of us.  He even broke my nose,” Ash finished up just as the other Police Officer joined them.  He was holding his phone aloft; the Officer who’d just joined them backed up Ash’s version of events, stating that he had images on his cellphone that backed up his story completely.

Both Police Officer’s walked off a little way and watched the footage that the second Police Officer had on his phone; the two Officers conferred for a bit.  Then while the second Police Officer made a call, the first Officer walked back to the boys, “it appears that we have all the information we need.  I’m sorry you boys got caught up in all of this.”

“What the fuck….” Lucas exploded as he marched towards the Police Officer, “do you know what these fuckin’ ‘former friends’ of mine have done, you simpleton?  These so-called ‘friends’ of mine set this whole thing up; why?  I have no fuckin’ idea, but all they needed was a fuckin’ simpleton of a cop, and they succeeded; they got you!  Have you any idea who my fuckin’ father is, you bloody stupid simpleton?”  By now, spittle was flying from Lucas’ mouth, and his face was red with rage as he bore down on the Police Officer with a full head of steam, “by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be begging….”  But that was as far as Lucas got as he was now in the Officer’s face, and he didn’t see him reaching for his taser, but he sure felt it just before he passed out from the shock.

The Police Officer stood over Lucas’ writhing form, “oh, I don’t think I have to worry about who your father is, boy,” the Police Officer said as he smirked down at Lucas’ writhing form.  As the other Officer was making calls, the Officer who tasered Lucas asked the crowd of boys if they could help him get Lucas into the back of their van, and the boys couldn’t wait.  They all grabbed a part of Lucas and hauled him up off the ground; one of the boys made sure his hand got covered in the sweat from Lucas’ perineum without any of the other boys seeing.  Two of the other boys surreptitiously got their hands covered in the sweat from Lucas’ armpits.  At the same time, one lucky bastard managed to get his finger deep inside Lucas’ anus as Lucas had no control over his sphincter at all.  The boys unceremoniously dumbed Lucas’ prone body into the cage at the back of the Police’s vehicle, and as the Officer closed and locked the cage, the boys walked off down the boardwalk.

When the boys were far enough away from the Police, Abdel stepped out of the shadows, and all the boys high fived themselves on a job well done before they all broke apart and made their way home.  With four of the boys sniffing their hands all the way home.

This week is already off to a bad start. It’s 6:50am which means I’m already late for my first training session at my new gym. I doubt the trainer will care because they get paid per session, but I paid extra to secure a prime pre-work slot. I rush through the sliding glass doors and I am hit with the coldest blast of air I’ve ever felt.

“Great” I think. “As if it’s not bad enough that I’m late, now I’m going to look like a pool of sweat because I was just rushing.” I can already feel the sweat collecting under my arms and between my thighs. Normally, I might be into that kind of thing, but meeting a new trainer like this is less than ideal. Especially if he is eye candy.

I adjust my focus and speak to the woman behind the counter. “Hi, my name is Hunter. I have a 6:45am training session. I’m a little late,” I say as she looks down at her clipboard.

“Hunter…Hunter…Hu…. Ah! Here you are. 6:45am on June 16th,” she trails off.

Shit. Today is the 15th. “Well I guess I am not late then,” I half laugh to try and break the awkwardness.

Still scribbling on her clip board, “You know what, you were scheduled with Jack for tomorrow, but I don’t have any clients this morning. Because this is your first time here, why don’t we do this: I will train you this morning free of charge. If you like the workout, I can take you on as a client, if you don’t like it, no hard feelings. Tomorrow when you come in, I will have Jack ready to go and you can test him out.”

“Test him out.” I like the sound of that. “Come on Hunter, get your head out of the gutter. You are here to work on yourself, not die of a barbell to the throat because you dropped it while staring at Jack’s package swinging above your head. Plus, you don’t even know what he looks like,” I say to myself. “Okay, yeah sure let’s do that then. I really appreciate it after getting my ass all the way down here this early in the morning.”

She smiles. I realize I haven’t even asked her name by the time she says, “I’m Charli. And don’t worry about it, I was going to sit here bored behind the counter all morning anyways. Just don’t tell my manger it’s on the house,” she winks. “First things first, let me ask you some intro questions so I know what it is you want to get out of these trainings. After all they aren’t cheap.”

I smile. These training sessions are certainly not cheap, so I appreciate someone who isn’t looking to waste time. “Let’s take a seat over by the treadmills and I’ll rattle off some questions. Does that sound good?” she says.

“Lead the way.” I follow Charli through what feels like a never ending gym floor. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in my fair share of gyms, but this is massive. I suppose that’s what happens when you move from an 82nd floor gym in the city center, to a one floor gym on the edge of the desert. Heat rises, so I guess it makes sense that it would be easier to cool one floor as opposed to two or three.

When we get to the treadmills, Charli doesn’t miss a beat before she starts rattling off, “Name, height, weight, age, and body type?”

“Well my name is Hunter Grace. I am 31 years old, 6’1” and 225. As for my body type…” I pause. “What do you mean by body type?”

“You know, like, how would you characterize yourself? Do you feel fit, overweight, just about right? Any way that you are comfortable describing yourself.”

Rattling off my statistics is always easy because those are quantifiable numbers, any lies could be brought to light with a simple scale or tape measure. But objectively describing myself has always been hard for me. “Um, well I would say that I’m in relatively good shape. I have a bit more meat on my bones than I would like, but nothing that has ever stood in my way or held me back. I try to keep a semi-active lifestyle but its life, something always gets in the way, so I don’t fault myself for not always having the time to work out.”

Charli smiles. “Awesome. Listen I am not here to judge nor get you into any shape that you do not want to be in. I want to make sure you are healthy. If that means working out a little harder one day because you wanted to go to the county fair and pig out? Cool. Or we can always slow down our work outs to focus less on weight loss and more on heart health. Whatever you want to do I can work with.”

I have to admit, I had my doubts with Charli. Here is a 5’5” slim brunette who is supposed to whip my 6’1” thick ass into shape? Doubtful. But the more and more I talked to her, the more and more I liked the idea of her becoming my trainer. That was until I spotted Jack across the gym.

Letting my eyes wander across the gym, I saw him. A man, probably the same height as me, with caramel skin color, dark eyes, and even darker hair that trailed down the side of his face into a perfectly manicured beard outlining a chiseled jawline. He was wearing a compression tank that hugged his shoulders, down to his full and heavy pecs, and even outlined the perfectly countable 6 abs underneath. I didn’t let my eyes stop there, though. Reaching his waistband, I could see he had flipped it over a few times to make his shorts even shorter and show off his rippling leg muscles.

If you ask me, the best part of flipping over a waistband is how it lifts up the crotch to be on full display, and oh was it on display. With every jumping jack I could see his package lift and drop with the immense weight of what was a spectacularly large package.

I began to feel something twinge in my own shorts when Charli’s voice broke the trance and I heard, “Hunter…Hunter! I see you found Jack. Like I said I won’t be offended if you want try him out tomorrow morning instead of sticking with me.” Try him out. There it was again, only now I had a real dilemma. I liked Charli, but I really did want to try out Jack.

“Do you mind if we finish up these questions so we can get started? Its already 7:05 and I assume to have to be at work by 9?”

“Of course,” I said. “But I don’t have to be at work until 9:30 so we have a little more time than you thought.”

Charli didn’t seem to care. She proceeded with a couple more questions until she hit me with one that left me speechless. “And what type of underwear do you prefer to wear?” she said.

“I’m sorry?” I croaked. “I’m no prude but why does the gym need to know that?”

“This question always gets new client’s hearts racing,” she smiled. “We ask for a couple of reasons. One, we do not allow anyone to go commando, free ball, let loose, however you want to describe it. You need to have underwear on. Two, depending on preference that could change the work out. Some exercises might cause rubbing, or chaffing, etc. I want you to be prepared.”

To be honest, I had never really thought of that before. Reluctantly, I answered, “Jockstrap. I prefer to work out in a jockstrap for mobility.” That last part was a lie. I work out in a jockstrap mainly because it puts my junk on display. I wouldn’t say I have a huge dick, but I definitely have a nice package. I’m about 7 inches hard, but my dick is thick. I don’t think I have ever been complimented on my length, but I get most guys moaning with how much I open them up. My balls are pretty big too. Couple that with being a shower, not a grower, and I have an above average bulge in my pants. Who wouldn’t want to put that on display?

After finishing the questionnaire, Charli put me through a few basic drills to set a baseline, and then we started in on the weights. Biceps, triceps, back, shoulders, and to finish out the morning, chest. “Okay, so do you know how much you can bench?” Charli asked.

“It has been a while, but I would say 215lbs was my highest to date.” Another lie but it was something I wanted to work up to.

Charli raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but not going to push me on it. “Okay, let’s have you do one rep at 215lbs and see how you fair,” she said with a sly smirk. She might not outwardly call me out, but she was no fool. “GUS! Can you come here for a minute?” Charli yelled.

With how far the gym spanned, I did not see him coming, until out of the corner of my eye he appeared. Walking straight towards me and Charli was the definition of “Adonis”. He was wearing a stringer tank that covered almost none of his broad hairy chest. Each pec bounced and flexed with every step he took closer. His wide shoulders created the perfect V shape as your eyes made their way down his body. The best part was his shorts were even shorter than Jack’s. Probably because his thick thighs would have had trouble getting in and out of knee length shorts. Sporting a pair of lifting gloves and a backwards cap, I was very happy to be wearing a tight jock, because my cock was already beginning to pulse.

“Hey Charli,” he said while giving her a side hug to avoid getting her sweaty.

“Gus, this is Hunter. I am training him this morning and we are finishing out todays workout by setting his bench press baseline. He is going to do one rep at 215lbs,” she said trying not to glance in my direction knowing my face was turning red. “As that is about 75lbs more than I weigh, I don’t think I will be any help if he can’t get it back up. I need you to spot him for me.”

“Sure thing,” he said turning to me. “I actually just finished my work out for the morning, so I’ll help you do this and then show you around the locker room,” smiling at Charli. “That one isn’t allowed in so I can imagine you didn’t get a great tour.”

Charli rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Apparently working out is only a boy’s club. But you know you wish you could peak into the women’s locker room Gus.”

Damn, he was straight and that was the end of my fantasy. “Alright, lets load up 215, and get this show on the road,” he said smiling in my direction. “Do me a favor and don’t look up my shorts while your getting jacked.”

That sent my heart in two different directions. On one hand, my mind spiraled with thoughts about what I had done to tip him off that I was gay. On the other hand, my mind could not help but catch on the word “jacked”. Imagining Gus leaned over the barbell stroking my thick cock while showing him I can pump 215. Having him squat just a little lower so I could smell the musk of his cock and ass while he strokes out a load I’ve been saving for days.

“You ready there bud?” he slaps me on the shoulder snapping me out of my vision.

“Ye…yeah,” I mutter out. “I’m Hunter by the way. I know Charli introduced me but it’s nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand and he takes it in his.

“Gus,” he says looking into my eyes. This is the first time I notice how blue his eyes are. A couple seconds go by and I realize we are still holding hands. He gives my hand a squeeze and let’s go.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I realize I now have to lay down to bench press and I am almost fully hard. No matter how tight the jock is that I am wearing, my cock is still going to be noticeable in my shorts. But then again, if he is straight, he won’t be looking anyways. I sit on the bench and slide up under the barbell. I have my feet on my tiptoes to elevate my legs hopefully disguising my hard cock a little better. Gus takes his stance behind my head and I lift the barbell off the rack. Down and up. “Holy shit, that was easier than I thought it was going to be.” I say louder than I expected.

“You definitely shocked me,” I hear Charli say. Gus laughs.

I laugh. “Whoops I did not mean to say that out loud,” I say through a smile. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t without a little struggle, but it has been a while.” As I go to sit up, Gus puts a hand on my chest.

“Woah, okay well if that was easy, lets see how many reps you can do.”

My heart skips a beat. I can’t tell if it’s because I don’t think I can do another one, or because Gus is holding me down and I definitely like how that feels. Not wanting to disappoint, I shift back under the barbell and say, “I don’t know how many more reps I have in me, but I guess there is only one way to find out.”

Gus’ face shifts into a smile. “My man! Let’s see how long you can go for.” Another skip of the heartbeat.

This time as I position my hands on the barbell, Gus steps in a little closer over my head. I try not to look up his shorts, but there are just some requests that can’t be honored. When my eyes focus, I see that he is breaking the gyms golden rule. Up his left pant leg, I am not looking at boxers, briefs, or even a jock. I am looking at the tip of a well hung dick and a full hairy sack that made me want to lift my head up and just start licking. When I shift my focus out of his pantleg, I make eye contact with Gus. He is looking down at me with the biggest grin on his face, and winks. It took my conscious brain a second to process, but my subconscious brain was way ahead because my rock hard cock jumped in my shorts. Gus must have noticed too because his eyes darted away quickly as I felt my dick throb. Somehow, I managed to concentrate and push out two more reps before Gus had to step in and help me lift the barbell.

“Great job!” Gus shouted as a bent over trying to conceal the stiffness in my shorts. “Charli finish up with Hunter and I will meet him in the changing room.” Another wink as he walked away.

“Okay, Hunter,” Charli started. “How do you feel about today? Good, bad? Am I going to be seeing you tomorrow or would you like to see Jack? I can give him all of the notes I have from today and you both can start your program tomorrow.”

I was thankful for this debrief because talking to Charli help get my mind off of Gus’ mouthwatering cock, and help my own cock calm down. “Thanks Charli. I really enjoyed today, and you did this out of the goodness of your heart because I don’t know how to read my own calendar. If you think you can take me on as a new client, I would be more than happy to stick with you.”

“OH thank god,” she squeaked. “I lose everyone to Jack. I mean understandably so, he is a 10 out of 10, but it really sucks when his calendar is full and mine is empty.”

“No, I get it,” I said. “He is very pleasing to the eyes, but I think I will be able to get what I need from you and Gus. Sorry…sorry from you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. “Gus is normally here at this time of the day, so when we do bench presses, I think he is the perfect person to help if he is around.”

While she was talking, I scanned the gym and noticed there was barely anyone here. “Wow this place is empty, I would have assumed most people would work out before work.”

She laughed. “They do. But most people also need to be at work by 9am unlike you. It’s 8:57. Typically this place is a ghost town until about 10am when the post-morning workout crowd comes in.” She glanced around the gym, “Anyways, I will see you tomorrow and Gus should be in the locker room waiting to give you a tour.”

I wander around a little checking out the gym and its machines before I find my way to the men’s locker room. With Charli not being allowed in the men’s locker room, and me coming in ready to work out, I had not been in here yet. I had just been carrying around my bag, so my best bet is to find Gus and put my stuff by him. When I make it past the fourth row of lockers, I find Gus completely naked texting on his phone. Before I let him know I am there, I let myself soak up the sight of him one more time.

Gus had dirty blonde hair that went down almost to his shoulder, and a short scruffy blonde beard that lined an angular jaw. His shoulders were perfectly rounded leading into sculpted biceps and forearms. His hands and forearms had visible veins, but not prominent enough to show that steroids had been at work. No, this body was the result of hours and hours of sweaty tanks and musky shorts. His hip line created the perfect V that lead to his swinging dick. As he shifted back and forth while texting, so did his package. His cock was about 6 inches soft, cut, and with a vein that ran the length of his cock and split right before the head. The head of his cock was wide and prominent, enough to leave anyone drooling with thoughts of wrapping their lips around it. Behind his cock was a set of hairy balls that hung even lower. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting hard at the thought of sucking on those low hung balls, salty sweat and all. All that was left to admire was his ass. Each time he shifted I could see his ass flex and round out a little bit more. To say he had a bubble butt was an understatement. This perfectly rounded ass was pure muscle, and I wouldn’t have minded parting all the muscle with my tongue.

There was one thing that surprised me about Gus, though. While I noticed his hairy chest in his string tank, I suppose I didn’t notice how far it spread. Gus had hair that spread across his thick pecs, all the way down his abs, collected at the base of his dick and spread across his cheeks and down his legs. My dick started to throb looking at the hair that perfectly lined his crack, thinking about finding his tight hole through all that hair. You could tell that Gus never trimmed his body hair. Standing in front of me was an all-natural Adonis of a man.

While in my Gus trance, I lost my balance and hit my bag against a locker making a bang. He quickly turned to see who it was, his swinging package following suit and slapping his thigh. His face lit up when he realized it was me.

“Hey Hunter, I was wondering if you were going to leave me hanging in here.”

I didn’t need to leave him hanging, he very clearly already had that covered. I smiled and said, “Yeah sorry, I looked around for a little longer and then had to find where the locker room was. Charli obviously can’t come in here, so she forgot to show me where I needed to go.”

He laughed, “No worries! I just have to be at work by 9:30 and wanted to leave enough time to catch a shower. I typically wait until the 9am crowd is gone before I come in here to finish up. It’s nice because I am usually the only one in here.”

“Did he say 9:30?” I thought. “That’s so funny, I am only here at this time because my new job said I could come in at 9:30 instead of 9 to avoid traffic. I didn’t tell them it was going to be used to avoid gym goers,” I laughed.

“No way. Well I guess I will have a locker room buddy then,” he said, wrapping a towel around his waist. “By the way, where is your new job? Maybe I know the place.”

I opened a locker by Gus and said, “It’s at ForwardRush. They are a tech company and I was just hired as their new corporate counsel to oversee their digital enterprise and compliance. It’s, ah, like a 5 minute walk from here actually. My car is already parked over there.” As I finished putting my things in the locker, I turned to see that Gus was just blankly staring at me. “What?” I asked.

“So you are the guy that got the job,” he continued to look stunned. “I work for ForwardRush as a corporate secretary and recommended my friend for the job. She told me that it was between her and another candidate. When I tried to put in a good word, they told me that the other guy blew her out of the water and they already decided.”

I stared at him dumbfounded. Not only did I just find out that I would get to see this gorgeous man five days a week, but I also got the job he recommended his friend for. I do not know if I should be elated or start to panic. I managed to stammer out, “I…ah…I am sorry to hear that your…ah… friend didn’t get the job. Knowing that we will be seeing each other here and…ah…at work every day, I feel bad.”

Slowly a smirk cracked across his face, “Ah it’s all good. I was only doing it because, my friend, she and I used to date.” She. There is was again, more flashing sirens that he was straight. “I wouldn’t have minded seeing her every day, but definitely no hard feelings. You know that song, ‘All my exes live in Texas’? Well I’m happy my old crush doesn’t work at ForwardRush.”

Without even hesitating, I blurted out, “WOW that was really bad. Like normally there are puns and then there are bad dad puns. That wasn’t even in the same universe as those two. It was so much worse.” I laughed.

“Listen, I never said I was a comic. For all you know I am a meat head who was going to use that as the opening line for my budding comedy career.”

“If that’s the opening line then I don’t think your comedy career will ever blossom,” I said through a chuckle. “Plus, as first impressions go, you don’t seem like a meat head. I think there is plenty underneath the surface.”

He continued staring at me with a dumb smile until he realized he hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. “Oh my bad man, I didn’t mean to stare I will turn around when you change. I played sports growing up, so I’m used to being naked in a locker room I don’t even think twice.”

It dawned on me he was referring to the fact that while we had been chatting, I hadn’t begun to change out of my clothes. “It’s all good, I don’t mind. We had been chatting so much that I forgot I should be changing. Where can I get a towel to wrap up in?”

“They are down the other end of the locker room. I know it’s super dumb, it’s like they want you to prance around with your dick out,” he said while locking up his locker. “I can run down the end and grab you one if you want?”

I thought about it for a minute. What did I have to be ashamed of? I had a pretty nice package; it was just the rest of me I was not so keen on showing off. “You said that we are the only two in here?”

“Yeah, there was no one in here when I came in and I haven’t heard anyone else come in since we started talking. Like I said, I am usually the only one here at this time.”

This is a new city, a new gym, and a new guy I am talking to. It’s time to be bold. “No that’s okay. If it’s just us two then I will strip down and just grab a towel when we get to the showers.” I began to undress and realized that Gus’ eyes were still on me. If I was going to be bold, I was going to keep the conversation going and face him while I undress to see where his eyes wander. “Is it always this hot in Santa Fe? I was drenched by the time I got here this morning and it was not even 7am yet.”

There he goes cracking that dumb smile again, “It depends on the time of year really. I mean in the summer, yeah, it’ll be 85 by 9am. But in the winter? That’s a whole different ball game. It won’t be 85 until like 9:30 in the morning.”

He begins to laugh as I roll my eyes. “Let me guess. That’s the backup joke for when your ‘exes live in Texas’ joke falls flat?” He tries not to laugh at my joke, but I can tell he is really enjoying our banter. While we have been talking, I managed to undress all the way to my jockstrap. I can tell he is trying to keep eye contact with me, but like I said, my dick and balls in a jockstrap make a full package. He breaks eye contact, if only for a second, but I know exactly what he looked at. No point in trying to be shy now.

I continue rattling on about the walk from work and turn away from Gus so he can get an eyeful of my ass. When I turn back, I slide my jock down my legs and let my thick cock spring free. The cool air feels nice on my sweaty balls. It feels even nicer knowing there are a pair of eyes that are trying to avoid taking it all in. I bend over to pick up my jock knowing that Gus will get a full view of my ass and tight hole. Bent over, I look between my legs for a second and see something under his towel jump. He might be straight, but I don’t think he can say he doesn’t like what he sees.

I close my locker, slap my lock shut, and turn to ask, “Ready to give me the tour?”

“Shit, if you are going to let it all hang out like that then I’m going to join you,” he said as he drops his towel to the floor. My cock twinges at the thought of being completely naked with Gus, but I don’t think he notices.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m usually a little insecure about being completely naked in a locker room. But it’s just us so it’s fine for now,” I say.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t walk around naked if I didn’t want to,” he said taking a step closer. “Also, I don’t know what you are talking about? You have strong arms, thick lean legs, nice pecs, and a good looking dick. So what if you have a bit of a gut? I think guys who look like you are way better looking body types than I am. Dad bods are in aren’t they?!”

“Yeah I guess so,” I half laugh while turning away to hid how red my face has gotten. It’s not every day that a Greek God of a man standing naked in front of you tells you that he has checked you out and likes what he sees.

I motion for Gus to take the lead. As he passes me, I can’t help but notice that his cock has gotten thicker than when we first started chatting. I follow Gus around the to the end of the lockers, sneaking a peak at his hairy bouncing ass every step he takes. This locker room has everything you can imagine. A wall of free toiletries and towels, bathrooms, sauna, hot tub, showers, and even massage beds. “Well that explains the price,” I think to myself.

As we walk closer to the sauna Gus turns to me, “Hey if you are up for it, I usually do like 5-10 in the sauna each day before hitting the showers.”

“Yeah, I could use the detox,” I say as I pull the door to the sauna open. Inside are two levels of wooden benches on either side of the walls. I hop up on the left side and leave room for Gus figuring he wouldn’t want to be spread eagle across from me. To my surprise, he hopped up on the right side, sat down and opened his legs allowing his hung package to settle on the warm bench.

Leaning his head back, Gus lets out a big moan and says, “Man I love the sauna. I love to loosen up after my workout. Sometimes there are other guys in here, but for the most part I usually have it all to myself.” He lifted his head and smirked at me, “When no one’s here, I get to spread out and do whatever I want.”

I smiled back. “Get to do whatever I want? Now he is really testing my imagination,” I thought. Immediately I saw Gus laying on the sauna bench running his fingers over his damp hairy chest, taking the time to circle his nipples. Letting them get hard so he could play with them if he wanted to really take his time. Sliding his hands down his sweaty abs to get them slick and ready to stroke his cock. Starting at the base and sliding down until his grip catches on that thick head. Slowly opening his grip to slide the head into his hand, circling the tip to catch every drop of his precum. Releasing his throbbing cock only to lick his palm and taste his own salty sweetness.

“Fuck,” I think. I need to stop these thoughts otherwise I am going to be sporting a stiff cock pointed directly at Gus for him to see. When I snap back to reality, Gus has leaned his head back again, so he hasn’t seen the obvious semi I have going on. As I go to rest my own head against the wall, I can’t help but notice that Gus is also sporting an impressive semi. He must have felt his cock get heavier because he quickly switched positions. Only, he didn’t try and hide his semi. No, Gus lifted one leg onto the bench putting his hairy pink hole on display for me.

My breath caught in my chest. All I had wanted to do since seeing that ass, was slowly spread Gus’ cheeks and get my tongue into his tight hole. It took all my will power to not get off this bench, fall to my knees, and eat Gus’ ass until he begged me to fuck him.

Gus leaned forward, “So I…ah…” But it was too late. He had already seen where my eyes were fixed before I had the chance to dart them away. “I…ah…I’m sorry. I guess I should have warned you that when my dick rests against the warm bench it feels really good and I usually get a bit aroused.” His eyes now flashing to my semi hard cock before quickly making eye contact again.

I laugh a little while scratching the back of my neck, “It’s cool. To be honest it has been a while since I have walked around completely naked. The freeing feeling has me a little aroused too.” A complete lie, but Gus seems to buy it.

“For sure,” he says with a smile. “Listen we are both grown men and we would be lying if we said our dicks don’t have a mind of their own. One minute your dick is swinging free in your pants and the next it’s popping out of your waistband ready to go.

I can’t tell if he is serious, or just trying to make sure I don’t feel awkward, but I go with it. “Yeah, the worst for me is when I am training legs and I’m on the stationary bike in my compression shorts. The cool spandex rubbing against my dick as I pump my legs always gives me a hard on.”

“I totally get what you mean,” Gus says. “For me it’s when I’m doing the hip abductor. I break the gyms rule and don’t wear underwear when I work out so when I spread my legs against the hip machine, sometimes if my shorts are short enough my dick and balls will just fall right out.”

Now is my chance. “Yeah I noticed,” I try to say without smiling.

“Hey! I told you not to look up my shorts!” he smiles. “Sorry about that man, I didn’t mean to be standing so far over your head that you would be staring at my dick the entire set,” he laughs while stretching his back.

Fuck, it was an accident. But what was with the wink then? I have to stop reading into things so much and just assume the guys at the gym are straight until proven otherwise. Trust me, I have been going to the gym long enough to know the signs. The multiple looks in the locker room. The smiles as you pass them in the mirror. Their crotch rubbing your ass when they spot your squats. Gus had not done any of those things, why did I think he would want me to slide my dick between his cheeks? Afterall, some straight guys really do love just being naked all the time, and with a package like his, there isn’t a reason not to be.

I had been in my own head so long; I hadn’t realized Gus was still talking. “…honestly, it turns me on so much that sometimes I don’t put my dick back in my shorts until after I’ve completed my set.” He climbed off the sauna bench and faced me, dick swinging only a foot from my face. “Fuck man, that got kinky really fast,” he laughed. “You ready to hit the showers?”

I nodded. I was ready to hit the showers, and I was ready to stroke out a thick load. Fully committed to cumming all over the shower stall nest to Gus thinking about what I would do to that pink hole of his if I had the chance. Call it christening the new gym, I thought.

Gus walked me over to the showers and I had to stop for a minute and let my brain to register what I was seeing. These were not your typical open style or curtain gym showers. No, each shower was its own stall but separated by glass walls and a glass door.

“What the hell am I looking at?” I asked Gus.

He let out a loud cackle. “I was waiting to see what you would say. The first time I used this locker room, I stood here scratching my head for 10 minutes before someone else came in and used a shower. Then I got it.”

“So what am I looking at then?” I said with a smile.

“You are looking at state of the art frosting glass,” Gus said. He could tell by the look on my face that I still was not getting it. “See how all the doors are open?” he asked. “When you get in and close the door, the door will frost itself.”

“What about the walls?” I said. “It seems a little counterintuitive if just the door frosts and the walls stay glass when other guys are using the stalls next to you.”

“That was my thought too,” Gus said. “But when someone gets in the stall next to you and closes their door, the walls will frost. Watch, I’ll show you.”

I watched as Gus walked into the shower stall in front of us and closed the door. The second the door closed, it frosted itself and I couldn’t see him anymore. “Now step into one of the stalls next to me,” he said.

I stepped into the stall on his left. I could see him through the glass wall, and he motioned for me to shut the door. When I shut my door, the wall separating the two of us frosted. “See,” Gus said. “It’s actually really cool, but definitely confusing the first time you use them.”

“Shit,” I hear him say over the shower stall. “We forgot to grab towels. I’ll run and grab them real quick.”

I see the top of his stall door open and the glass defrosts. I stand there for a few seconds and decide to step out of the stall. I will be damned if I am going to miss Gus come running back with his cock and balls swinging. Standing fully out of the shower stall, I can hear Gus coming back before I see him. The sound of his heavy cock slapping the sides of his thighs as he comes jogging back. Sure enough, as he rounds the corner, I see his floppy cock swinging from left to right hypnotizing me. I try everything in my power to look away, but seeing this chiseled man swing his cock for my eyes, and my eyes only? I was not going to let that opportunity pass.

Arm outstretched, he handed me a towel. “Ready to hit the showers, big guy?” Gus says.

“Ready as I will ever be,” I reply. “This is going to feel so good after that workout. A nice release.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Gus said nodding. But what Gus doesn’t know is my sweet release is going to come from stroking my thick cock thinking about him. Not the hot water against my sore muscles.

We both step into the stalls and I steal one last look at him before the doors shut and the glass frosts. I start the water and get it to the temperature I like, and waste no time playing with my cock. The warm water feels good running down my shaft, so I wait a few seconds for the heat of the shower to get my blood pumping. Starting at the base, I grip my stiffening cock and slowly drag my hand down to the tip. It only takes a few strokes before my 7inch cock is stiff and throbbing. I reach over and grab some of the body wash that the gym provides and lather my cock up. With my cock in my right hand, I lift my left arm and take in a whiff of my pit. Damn that smells amazing. I close my eyes and start pumping my cock at the thought of smelling every inch of Gus. Starting with spreading those muscled legs of his until I could lick every inch of his taint and take in the musk of his hairy, sweaty balls. Sucking one of his balls into my mouth and tasting the salty sweet of his hard work out.

“Fuck,” I think to myself. “Slow down cowboy, I know you can’t spend all day in here, but you’re already about to bust.”

I slow down the pumping of my cock and start letting my legs do some of the work. I lean my back against the glass wall, grip my pulsing cock with both hands, and start pumping my legs. I imagine holding Gus’ head between my hands and fucking his throat. Listening to him choke while my thick cock hits the back of his throat, only to pull back and do it again. God his throat feels so fucking good. I am getting close to busting when I start to hear small moans from the other side of the glass.

I wait a minute or two to see if it will stop and it doesn’t. My heart skips a beat. Could Gus’ be stroking that long cock of his right on the other side of this glass? Fuck if only I could see, then I would have enough imagery to stroke my cock for months. Come home every night after a long day of seeing his ass in tight dress pants, relax and bring back the memories of Gus jerking his cock right next to me. If only this frosted glass was not here.

“Wait,” I think. “The door controls the frosted glass. If I crack the door open, the glass wall will defrost, and I will be able to see Gus in all of his glory again. I just have to make it seem like an accident.

My heart is racing. Am I really about to do this? Yes, the answer is yes. The muffled moaning has not stopped, and I will regret not opening this door every single day if I don’t. “Just do it on three,” I say to myself. “One, two…fuck it’s now or never. Three.”

I slap my hand against the door popping it open and yell out, “Ow fuck that hurt, damn!” As I turn around, I almost black out. I see Gus leaning with his left arm against the glass wall separating the two shower stalls, rock hard cock in his right hand. He continues to bite his lip and pump his cock as he looks up and makes eye contact with me. Instead of embarrassment, he just smiles and glances down. I realize he is looking at my own throbbing cock pointed straight at him.

He stops stroking his cock and stands up. Slowly, and without taking his eyes off of me, he opens his door and steps into my shower stall. I crack a smile and ask, “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gus says. “Clearly you need some help stroking your cock and so do I.” I want to make sure he is serious, but he cut me off. “I told you these glass walls are frosted, which means they still have some transparency.”

Confused at what he was getting at, I asked, “What does that have to do w…”

“Well when I was washing my body and giving my own cock a pull, I saw your two ass cheeks leaning against the frosted glass. And then I saw those ass cheeks start slapping against the glass, almost inviting me to slip my cock between them. So I soaped up my cock, leaned against the glass and imagined slipping all 8inches of my cock in that tight hole I saw earlier.”

Just hearing Gus describe how he wanted to fuck me was enough to make me dizzy with ecstasy. I was so turned on that my cock was visibly pulsing, and Gus noticed. “I was also curious about what your cock looked like rock hard. I saw it jump when you sneaked a peak of my dick up my shorts, and holy fuck is it thick. Let’s see if I can wrap my mouth around it.”

Gus dropped to his knees and before I could even react, and wrapped his lips around the head of my cock. Fuck his warm mouth felt so good. I took his head in my hand and slowly guided his mouth all the way down to the base of my cock. I was surprised he could take my cock that far; most guys could only get about halfway before gagging. Damn did it feel good to hit the back of his throat. Gus pulled back and looked at me with his ice blue eyes. “Does the back of my throat feel good Hunter?” he mumbled.

“Fuck yeah it does,” I gasped. “I want to face fuck you so bad.”

“What’s stopping you?” he moaned.

Taking his head in both of my hands and leaning back against the glass, I began to slowly thrust my fat cock into Gus’ mouth. With no gag reflex, I pull his head to the based and hold it there while I tickle the back of his throat. Feeling the warm spit pooling to slick up my cock, I pull back and start face fucking him hard. When he pushes back to come up for air, he let my cock fall out of his mouth and licked his way down to my balls. Gliding his tongue back to my head, he began to lick all the precum off my tip before swallowing it all back down his throat.

“Fuck,” I moaned. “I am getting really close Gus.”

He pulled his head back and looked up at me. “I want you to blow your load down my throat. I want you to fill my mouth and make me swallow it. Take every drop of you down so that when I talk to your boss today, I’ll have you on my breath.”

That was all I needed to hear for my balls to clench and my cock to throb. Pushing his head all the way back down to the base of my fat cock, I shot my thick load right down his throat. When he went to pull back, I held his head there because I wasn’t finished. Between moving and finding a new job, I hadn’t blown my load in three months. I was not about to waste a drop of it.

When Gus lifted his head with tears in his eyes, he said, “Fuck Hunter. I think that was the biggest load I’ve ever swallowed.”

I cracked a smile. Realizing that I really wanted to kiss him, I helped him up and pulled his face into mine. Without flinching, Gus pressed his lips against mine and kissed me long and hard. When I pulled back to look at him, he leaned back in, this time slipping his tongue in my mouth. I followed suit by flicking my tongue across his and taste my own load. Pressing my body into his, I could feel Gus’ hard cock rubbing between the two of us.

I pulled back. “You didn’t get off?” I said.

He smirked. “Not yet, I wanted to focus on giving you the best blowjob of your life. I could tell you were itching to blow you load, and I wanted to taste it.”

“Okay, looks like it’s my turn,” I said. I begin to drop to my knees when Gus caught me.

“I don’t really cum from blowjobs,” he said. “I never really have, but if you are up for it, I’ve been fantasizing about stretching that tight hole of yours ever since you bent over by the lockers.”

Fuck, did he really just ask if he could fuck me? This Greek God of a man with a cock to match, wants to fuck me? Before I even let the words process, I said, “We just met each other, but I did just blow my load down your throat, so why not?”

With the biggest smile on his face, Gus kissed me one last time before turning me around and bending me over against the glass. I was surprised when I felt his hands part my ass cheeks and a tongue lick up and down my crack. Each time he passed my hole, my knees got a little weaker. Finally, I felt his tongue stop on my hole and begin to circle it. Bringing his face in to kiss my hole and rim it with the edge of his tongue.

When I couldn’t hold it back any longer, I reached back and grabbed his face, pushing it into my ass. I felt his tongue open up the edge of my hole and start jamming in and out. I couldn’t help but let out a load moan. It had been a while since I was tongue fucked and Gus knew exactly what he was doing. Flicking his tongue around the rim, opening me up and licking every inch of my insides. I start gyrating my hips to let him know that I want more than just a tongue.

Gus stands up and starts sliding his long cock between my cheeks. “You want me to fuck you?” he moans into my ear.

“Yes please,” I beg. “I want you to open my hole with that big cock and show me what you can do.”

I don’t have to wait long before I can feel the tip of his throbbing cock slide into my tight hole. I gasp. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten fucked, but damn does it feel good. Gus slowly leans into me, pushing his cock inch after inch in my hole.

I hear him let out a moan. “Fuck Hunter, it’s been a while since I have put my dick in an ass this tight. I’m not even all the way in and you’ve already got me close.”

I smile. “Don’t cum yet. I want you to open my ass all the way up and make me blow another load.”

BAM. Gus thrusts the rest of his cock into my hole. I yell out of surprise and ecstasy. Slowly he pulls his cock back and thrusts back into me. My hole slowly giving way to all of his inches. He lifts my right leg and pushes me into the wall. My cock now fully hard again rubbing against the slick glass. Pump after pump, Gus fucks his cock deeper and deeper into me until he hits my g-spot. I gasp and grip his waist, holding him in place. Keeping the tip of his cock against my prostate. I hear a laugh.

“Ah there it is,” Gus says. “I was wondering when I was going to hit it. Now that I have found it,” he thrusts into me again. “I’m going to make that cock of yours bust hands free.”

Slowing down to small thrusts he begins playing with my g-spot. I start to slump, and he pulls my right leg higher knowing he has got me weak at the knees. I arch my back pushing against him, wanting every last inch to fill my hole. He has me close again, and I am not going to let this wave pass me.

Releasing my leg, Gus takes hold of my hips and starts fucking me harder and harder. I feel his tongue ride up the small of my back up past my shoulder blades. “Fuck, your hole is so fucking tight. I could fuck this hole all day,” he says. “Hunter I’m getting really close, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside me,” I beg. “I am close again.”

“Fuck yes,” Gus says as he begins to pump into me faster. “Oh fuck I’m going to cum, Hunter. I’m going to fill up this tight ass of yours. Fuck here it comes.”

That’s all I need to hear for my cock to start blowing another load. As my cock spurts and drains my balls for a second time, I feel Gus slow his thrusts and cum inside me. Gus lowers his head against my back as he slowly thrusts letting spurt after spurt of his load into my ass.

“Fuck man,” I hear him say. “That was so fucking hot. I haven’t blown a load that big in a while.”

I slowly lift off of his cock and let his load drip from my hole. I turn to Gus and smile, “That was the first time I’ve cum twice in a long time.” I lean in for a kiss and stick my tongue back down his throat. “I guess we should actually rinse off now, I think we are already late for work.”

Stepping out of my stall, Gus turns and says, “Yeah but I was just showing our new Corporate Counsel around the gym, I think they will understand.” He winks.

Closing the door, I watch that tight ass disappear behind frosted glass. “This is going to be fun,” I think.

Yeah, I knew Riley and I would fool around some on this trip. And I’ll admit I booked us a single queen bed in some of the hotels with that very hope in the back of my mind. But I had no idea how this week-long campus tour would turn into a mini honeymoon for me and my son.

Up until then, Riley and I had been content to sneak around for an occasional BJ swap. It was a crazy taboo to do with my own son, and even more son given just how fricking hot he is. A rising senior on the varsity wrestling team, he also lifts weights religiously to keep with the bodies of his Instagram buddies. I tried to give him a heart-to-heart father-son talk about body image and not living up to unreasonable expectations. But my son just shrugged in his affable jock way and, “I’m good Dad. It’s something I enjoy doing.”

I was skeptical it was healthy, but I also knew my judgment was clouded by how incredible his body was at 18. Ripped muscle, dense muscle too and still largely smooth, though I gathered Riley shaved his treasure trail and did some manscaping for his Insta pics.

The first time just kind of happened. Me and Riley staying up late in my man cave watching a West Coast ball game. It was summer and a weekend, so the late evening felt fine. I was in a good mood and Riley was too… the kind of friendly, affectionate son I didn’t always see through his teen years. But he was older now, grown up. He’d be going off to college. Maybe that paternal thing kicked in for me, but I placed my arm over Riley’s shoulder. I half expected him to flinch or wiggle out from my embrace. But instead he leaned into me, open to it.

It was that gesture, and the warmth of his body, and feeling just how fucking firm my teenage son’s muscle was… well my dick went erect. I tried to will it to stop, or at least to slow down, but there it was. A hardon for my son.

I felt mortified, but I looked down and saw a matching ridge in Riley’s basketball shorts.

“Buddy…” I said, nervously, in a tone that was apologetic. A “we should stop this,” kind of tone.

“It’s cool, Dad,” was all Riley said. And he reached over and gripped my dad spike through my khaki shorts, playfully gripping it in a rhythmic squeeze. It felt nice. It felt better than nice, it was amazing. And yeah, there was the mindblowing taboo that it was my hot fucking son feeling me up.

I reached over and touched his spike. Somehow harder than mine, like pure steel. He didn’t have underwear beneath those shorts and it was like I could feel every ridge, from the tip down to the balls. My own son’s dick.

“So, son…” I had to ask, “You sexually active?”

Riley nodded earnest. “Yeah, Dad. For a while. Done it a few times with girls, but me and my buddies fool around a lot.”

Got that idea got me hot, and the lewd part of me tried guessing which of Riley’s friends had done it, had touched this dick.

“You know, we shouldn’t be doing this,” I cautioned. Still not letting go of his stick.

Nor he mine. His voice was getting hoarse with desire now. “Yeah, I know… but it’s pretty damn hot isn’t it?” He looked up from my crotch to my face and he had an impish smile on his face.

“Yeah, buddy, it is,” I admitted, a naughty look matching his.

And like that I was kissing my son, sexually, for the first time.

* * *

I may have been crazy to fool around with Riley, but I wasn’t stupid. And Riley wasn’t stupid. We were super careful not to do it too much, only when we were absolutely certain the coast was clear. But when his mother was out of the house – and I sure she wouldn’t be coming back early – I’d knock at his door, or Riley would come down to my workroom in the basement – and we’d silently communicate that we wanted it. It didn’t matter who went first, who blew whom, because the other was gonna get reciprocation.

Maybe that’s how I thought that’s how this college trip was gonna go. Riley had an early Fall break at school, and we were going to do a road trip to the Northeast and visit a few of my son’s wish list places – Georgetown, Villanova, Skidmore, Quinnipiac BC, Tufts. Spending a couple of days in NYC the fun of it. Riley was a good wrestler, but not scholarship bound, and he had solid grades for a competitive school. Some were long shots, but his mother and I encouraged him to go for it.

My son might not be a top-caliber wrester, but he would win an Olympic medal in undressing the fastest. It was a long drive to DC, and we checked into our hotel around 5pm. I’d set down my luggage and stepped into the bathroom for a needed piss. And when I came out, Riley was completely naked and stretched on the hotel bed, a hardon sticking up from his lightly furred crotch and those smooth abs.

“Not wasting time are you, buddy,” I teased. But I was throwing hard at the sight of him, and it was starting to really sink in that Riley and I had this private time and we’d be having a lot more of it. My fingers traced along his muscular shoulder and that bulging arm.

Riley grinned up at me. “You look really hot, Dad… you’ve been hitting the gym more, I can tell.”

I blushed. I had been getting back more regularly into lifting and cardio, and I knew Riley was in large part my inspiration. I didn’t have an Instagram body like his, but I did all right for my 48 years. And now that my son’s hands were on my slimmed down belly and untucking my polo shirt, I felt strangely complimented.

I helped him undress me, getting in an almost playful mood as I kicked off my sneakers and peeled off my shirt. Riley scooted up on the bed, a grin on his face, as he watched me peel down my jeans and briefs.

“I really didn’t have ulterior motives taking you on this trip,” I said, maybe a little embarrassed at my clear desire. My dad dick was sticking up hard, swaying as I got up on to the bed to join my son.

“You overthink things, Dad,” Riley said, reaching up to feel my chest. “I’m hoping we can have sex nonstop this week.”

“God yeah,” I grunted, so turned on. Our kiss was electric. But even better was feeling Riley’s naked body against mine. For all our times sneaking around, we’d never done anything like this. Full on making out in a shared bed. Writhing against one another. His cock was amazingly hard against mine, and I had to relish his youthful energy in bed.

But I was equally taken by his skill in this. Not exactly experienced, but he was guiding me as much as I was guiding him. And a few minutes later, as I got closed to bringing him off to completion with my mouth, Riley nudged me off. “Not yet, Dad. I wanna edge some.”

Maybe things were different with young guys. They had porn, they had the internet, and there was just a more open culture about sex than there had been in my younger days.

I was benefiting from that now, as Riley sucked me, not too fast or hard, just working my up, before pulling off and blowing on my wet erection playfully. Then he worked his way down. “Come on, Dad, lift your legs,” he asked, his voice an urgent plea.

He wasn’t gonna was he? I thought. But as I did as instructed, there was Riley’s tongue licking me. Tonguing my ass. I wasn’t naive. I knew what a rim job was. I just never had experienced it. And my own boy was giving me one. I didn’t have any to compare to, but his technique was driving me wild. Like clenching the sheets wild. Like boner dripping sap on my furry belly wild.

Riley had a proud look on his face when he finally rose up from between my parted cheeks. He wiped the spit off his chin. “I think you liked that,” he laughed.

“Jesus, son, I had no idea,” I gasped. “Who taught you that?”

Riley chuckled. “I can fill you in on my experiences this week. For now, let’s just enjoy this…” God, he was so assured when it came to sex, I felt a weird reversal.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I grinned.

He gave me those puppy dog eyes and ventured, “You feel like returning the favor?”

I wasn’t sure I did. But I felt like I owed it to him. “I’m not experienced with, you know…”

“With rimming?” he teased. I could tell Riley was getting a kick out of my shy streak.

“Yeah, with rimming. But I’ll try it.”

“You don’t gotta, Dad,” he offered me an out.

I shook my head and patted the bed next to me. “I wanna,” I said bravely. “Get up here, on your knees.”

I won’t lie. The first lick freaked me out a little. But the second and third were OK, and I realized it was all good. This was just another form of sex. Like eating pussy. I dove in and went at it.

“Oh fuck Dad!” Riley cried and I hoped to god for soundproofing in this hotel. But I was undeterred now. I ate my son out as best I could, copying the actions he’d done on me. It seemed to work, and pretty soon he was scrambling out from beneath me, his hard on rock hard and dripping.

“I gotta get off,” he huffed. “69?”

This was a first for us too, but it was perfect. Riley was worked up, and I was worked up. We scooted into a face-to-crotch position and in unison took each other into our mouths. We were rooting for gold now, and it didn’t take us long. Riley spurted into my mouth and the flavor of my son’s cum had me nutting in no time. Riley swallowed it all readily.

We kissed after we uncoupled and this part was nice, too. I wasn’t able to process the emotions I was feeling with my son just then, but I tried to take his advice and not overthink it. We had a whole week for me to be my normal worrying parent. For now, I’d just had some incredible sex.

I did bring our make out session to an end. “We better go out and get some food before I lose the energy,” I said.

“Yeah,” Riley said. He patted my hairy chest with a gentle gesture of affection. “Thanks, Dad, that was incredible.” We quickly showered off and got dressed again. I was starving by now, and Riley was too.

* * *

I should have felt more guilt than I did. But I don’t think I realized till then how much my mood responded to my son’s. Riley was happy, relaxed, and carefree. That night we kind of cuddled in that queen bed, and that felt right, too.

The next day was an early breakfast and a 9AM campus tour. Georgetown was great, though the cynical side of me was wondering how much Riley’s education was gonna cost me. I let him go off and do his own thing for a while as I went in town to visit one of the Smithsonian museums. We met up for a casual taco dinner and strolled around for a bit.

Then at one point, Riley popped into a drug store. “Just a sec, Dad,” he said. I could have gone in with him, but it was a nice evening out, a nice low-humidity fall evening that was a welcome antidote to the Southern weather we’d escaped.

My cute son had an even cuter grin when we came out, bag in hand. “I was hoping we’d try some new stuff,” he announced.

I gathered he was talking about sex, and I felt that cautiousness come over me. “Should we wait till the hotel for this conversation?” I asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Riley grinned.

My heart was pounding the five minute walk back to the hotel and the elevator ride up to our floor. I kept looking over at Riley, who was giving me that intent, sexual look. I was giving him one back. Part of me was nervous about what he was thinking, though I had a good idea. Still, I knew we’d be getting our rocks off, together, whatever we ended up doing.

As we stepped into the room and turned on the light, Riley playfully sat on the bed and reached into the bag. “We don’t gotta dad, but I was hoping we’d fuck…” He tossed a container of lube onto the bed, then reached in to pull out a four pack of disposable enemas.

“Jesus, Riley, how much fucking you expecting us to do?” I laughed nervously.

My son chuckled. “We’ll see if you like it… but I was hoping you’d try bottoming… I can bottom for you too.”

I blushed. “You’ve had experience with this, too?” I asked.

He nodded, looking me dead in the eye. “Yeah, it’s fun as hell. I’m sure it’ll be mindblowing to do it with my own father.”

That hit me, deep. But I felt shellshocked by it all. I’d never even done anal with a woman, and the idea of Riley fucking me was scary as hell.

Riley sensed my heistation. “Sorry if I killed the mood, Dad,” he said contritely.

I felt bad that I wasn’t more enthusiastic. “You didn’t kill anything, buddy… it’s a lot,” I said I sat down on the bed next to him. “Think we can take our time with this?” I asked.

“Yeah, Dad,” Riley said and I could read it all in his gorgeous eyes. Love, lust, youthful eagerness, a desire to please.

I initiated the kiss. Soft, easy. Riley kissed me back with equal gentleness. It was amazing, and the mixed emotions we were feeling only fueled our desire.

I wanted to do this for him. As I pulled back I gave him a wink then reached down to pick up the enema box. “When you’ve done this… you’ve enjoyed it, right?”

Riley nodded. “Oh yeah. I mean, I like topping more, but it’s intense to bottom… intense in a good way,” he added.

I looked back up at him. God, he had such a hopeful expectation on his face. “Think you can go first tonight? I can try bottoming tomorrow, but I won’t lie, I’m a little scared of it.”

“You cherry?” Riley asked, concerned, curious, and clearly turned on by the idea.

I nodded. “Fraid so. Both ways.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you fuck me tonight… and tomorrow if you feel up to it…” More of that hope in his voice. He patted my arm. “Come on, Dad, you’re gonna love this. It’s incredible fucking a guy.”

“At this point if I don’t get inside you, I’m gonna get blue balls,” I teased. Trying to add levity to shift he mood between us.

Riley laughed. He took the enemas from my hand. “OK, give me ten minutes.”

As Riley went into the bathroom and got ready. I undressed. For all my doubts, I was hard as a rock. The newness of this turned me on, and the prospect of crossing this ultimate line with my son. I was 48, and this old dog was learning new tricks.

I heard the shower run as I opened the lube and set aside on the bedside table. As I picked up the shopping bag, I realized there was something still in there. I pulled out a small box of condoms.

Riley popped out, dripping wet and naked. God, he was a fucking porn star, and my heart raced. I held up the rubbers. “Found these,” I smirked.

Riley blushed. “I got em just in case… but honest, Dad, I was hoping you wouldn’t want to use them.”

I looked at the box a second then set it aside. “I might not last long in you without one,” I warned. I was starting to get real turned on sexually.

Riley grinned as he got into bed with me. “That’s OK… I’m not that skilled of a bottom. A quick one is good.”

Our mouths connected, and it was an urgent, sexual kind of kiss. Riley’s hands running along my chest, mine along his back and smooth ass. My heart pounded as he rolled onto his back and pulled me with him, guiding my older dad body onto of his younger frame.

“You sure you wanna do this, buddy?” I asked.

“Stop overthinking, Dad,” Riley said, reaching between us to grip my hard paternal dick. “You want this.”

I bit my lip and reflected a sec. “Yeah, yeah I do.” Then I looked down, emotionally open. “so… how do I…?”

I expected Riley to mock me. Or tease me at least. Instead, he gave me a reassuring look. “Take some of the lube and finger me with it. Use a lot…” I did as instructed and I think I gasped harder than he did when my finger touched his bare pucker and pressed in.

“Oh fuck,” I grunted.

Riley nodded. “I’ll be tight, so you just gotta work me a little till you can add another finger. When you have three in, you’re good to go.”

I did as instructed. I didn’t rush it, in part because I didn’t want to hurt my son, in part because I wanted to savor this.

“More lube,” he asked at some point, and the slickness worked wonderes. Riley’s tight hole grew more elastic and I was able to push a third finger in and even twist around inside him.

“Maybe we can explore the foreplay more this week,” he mused. “But I’m too turned on tonight.”

“Me too, Riley,” I grunted in reply. I couldn’t believe I was about to have anal sex for the first time. With my own son, no less.

“All right,” he urged. Then reading the doubt in my face, he added. “Don’t just shove it in, Dad, but you’ll need to use a little pressure at first to get past the ring. Don’t worry about me, I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

I nodded and did my best to follow his instructions. I was glad of his experience in this. Maybe it wasn’t a lot but it was more than mine. And when he winced as I breached his hole, he quickly gave me a reassuring nod. Then the OK to go further.

“You good?” I asked him. I was rock hard and buried about two inches inside his hole.

Riley nodded. “Oh yeah. Slide it in me, Dad. Go slow, but you’re past the tight part… so you’re good… Oh fuck yes… I can feel your cock inside me, Dad…. I’m getting fucked by my father.”

Up till now, the vibe between us had felt playfully naughty, but I knew then how much Riley fantasized about this moment. I knew the taboo was going to tap into some deep part of my soul. “And I’m fucking my own son,” I gasped as I bottomed out, balls pressing against his toned wrestler ass. “You’re so… fricking… tight Riley…”

Riley nodded. Urgent in his need. “I know you’re real worked up, Dad…. you don’t have to hold back… fuck me…”

I did. I pulled my hips back and steadily powered back in. And again. “Oh fuck!” I cried.

Riley gripped my hips. His legs were pulled back and wrapped around my waist. Receptive, open for me. My strokes went faster and harder, particularly as I knew Riley could take them. “Seriously, son… I’m not gonna last long…” I warned.

“Go for it, Dad. Get off in my hole. I wanna see you do it.”

Those words excited me and I just started fucking wildly. The orgasm started in my nuts but traveled up around my whole body. I never came so hard, an orgasm that seemed to last a minute.

“Breed me, Dad!” Riley gasped as he watched.

“Oh fuck!” I hissed as I felt the first jet of cum finally spurt out of my cock and into my son. Then another. I lost count, but there were at least six heavy spurts.

I was still in the daze of my cum as Riley squirted some lube on his rock hard spike and started flogging it. His young body tensed and his face turned red and he let out a loud cry. “Unggh!!” he said as his dick fired an impressive load over his ripped abs and lean chest.

Once he was done cumming, a big smile spread across his face, and I found one on mine too. “Guess I should pull out buddy.”” I wasn’t eager for more fucking, but I was still hard inside him. I’d never felt an erection so insistent after cumming before.

“Yeah, for a bit at least,” he urged.

I kissed him, pulling his cum-slick body against mine and enjoying the bleachy scene of my own son’s semen in my nostrils. We made out, then after a bit we decided to cool off. We didn’t really talk, we just enjoyed the intimacy and proximity, even as we watched some TV. At some point Riley scooted closer to me and started massaging my chest… then my stomach… then reaching down to grip the erection that had come back after softening.

“You got a great cock, Dad,” he said. “So thick…”

I was pretty well matched in size and shape to Riley’s genitals but I did have a little extra girth. “You took it really well,” I said. “Is it always that easy?”

He shrugged. “No. I mean, sometimes it’s hard going in. But some guys get really good at taking it. My buddy Mike is really easy to fuck…” Mike Hanson was also on the wrestling team and unlike Riley ahd a shorter, meatier build. It was wild to think of the senior jock bending over for anyone, and my dick twitched in Riley’s grip.

My son laughed. “You into Mike, Dad?”

“Mike’s a hot dude,” I admitted. “But mostly it’s the idea of you two doing it… I don’t know… maybe I regret I didn’t explore things a little more when I was young.”

“You’re exploring them now,” Riley said thoughtfully. Then, with a playfulness, he cupped my hairy balls and asked. “Up for another fuck?”

I nodded, surprised I was ready for another one in the same night.

Riley scooted to the other side of the bed and stretched out face down on his belly. His fine round ass was sticking straight up and that was all the invitation I needed. I lubed up my dick, pretty good, though I figured Riley’s hole was probably still greased up from before.

I was so excited as I climbed on his young stud body. “I’ll probably last longer this go around… but let me know if gets too much.”

Riley nodded and I nudged my hard prick past the softened pucker and the cum still inside him. And I slid back home.

Nothing beats the excitement of the first time you fuck your son, but in every other way this one was even better. I felt like I could make love to my son instead of just treat his ass as a release. I varied my pace and rhythm and angle of penetration. I found what worked for Riley and what worked a little too much. I found the special spot inside him. And when I sensed my son was getting real worked up and closer to orgasm, I held his wrists and started working my dick over that spot, over and over.

“Fuck yes!” Riley hissed. His body writhing and his ass bucking as I fucked the cum right out of him, onto the bedsheets. His spasming hole milked a second load from me within seconds, and I collapsed on to his back. Sure, it was the sex endorphins speaking, but I felt happy and complete at that moment.

We finally got out of bed. Riley rinsed off, while I tried to sop off some of the semen out of the sheets with a washcloth. I’d take the wet spot – it was the least I could do after Riley put out for me. I took a quick shower after him and came back to find him in a quiet, dreamy mood.

“That was amazing son,” I said as I got under the covers next to him.

He didn’t say anything, but I knew what he was thinking. He was hoping I was going to return the favor the next night. He was too polite to insist on it, and I was still nervous about losing my anal virginity. But I looked at him, my wonderful, surprisingly mature son, and I knew I’d do that for him. And maybe do it for me, too.

“Ready for some sleep, buddy?” I asked. “We have a long day tomorrow.” There was the drive to the Philly burbs for an 11:00 Villanova tour.

“You bet, Dad.” Our lips pressed softly and then my son twisted his hunky body over and turned off the bedside light.

And in the dark, I couldn’t help it. “I love you, buddy,” I said.

“Love you, too, Dad.”

He was introduced to me as Simon Tung when Peter brought me down in the elevator at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in downtown Singapore, both of us dressed for handball. He hadn’t been identified to me the previous day when he’d fucked me. That had been a simple rent-boy tension-reliever encounter; I was just a hole he wanted to fill. But I now figured that he was someone higher up in the ST Enterprises hierarchy than Peter Chau, who had hired me as a model, for this launching of the Silver Tiger luxury sedan. I hadn’t just been brought in off the street for Tung to fuck; they were paying big bucks for me to come in and do PR model work with their automobile launch. They’d paid extra for me to lay down for some bigwig—in this case, Simon Tung. Standing behind him was the same thuggish Asian guy, introduced merely as Bao, who had fetched me to Tung the previous day. Both Tung and Bao were dressed for handball too, so I assumed that was who Peter and I were going to be playing.

It wasn’t an unusual arrangement—the model’s ass going with the PR modeling—and my high-end escort agency liked it because it put the fee structure up front rather than someone trying to get the model to open his or her legs outside of the deal. I didn’t have much to say in the arrangement. I was employed to let clients fuck me.

Tung was not a chore to go under. He was a tall, muscular, handsome, and commanding figure. And, being partly Asian, he was something different from the usual for me. I could well imagine that he was senior in the business to Peter Chau, who was no slouch either in the presentable body sweepstakes. Both were half Asian and half something else. Peter told me later that Tung was from Macao and that his father was Chinese and his mother hailed from White Russian stock, many of the royal Russians having come down into China in the early twentieth century to escape the communist revolution there. Peter said his mother was Australian, his father Singapore Chinese. They both carried the mix well, although it was the taller, older, silver-haired Simon Tung who was the most commanding. He certainly had commanded me in his Mandarin Oriental Hotel suite the previous day. Tung had shown that he had much experience in using male prostitutes. Both men were hung, and I needed to be stretched to be in the mood, so that was fine. I’ll have to admit I wouldn’t have thought of Asians as being as well endowed as these two men were.

A sleek, black hotel limousine took the four of us to a nearby club with handball courts, Peter and I sitting across from Simon and his bodyguard, with Tung’s eyes boring into me, undressing me again as he’d done before, devouring me fully—as he had done fully, efficiently, and without any chatter the previous day. It had been as if sex with a man—on a man—was just part of his daily exercise. When he’d fucked me before, there was no chit-chat or niceties express. He commanded what he wanted me to do and he took me quickly and boldly.

I easily went hard for him. I should have been put off by the cold, clinical way Tung had fucked me, but I wasn’t. He had completely dominated me, speaking only in terse tones of how to position myself for his maximum penetration and pleasure, and I was a submissive for that. Sitting next to me, Peter, who had fucked me last night after I had returned from servicing Tung and had every reason to think I was here for him, sat, looking out at the pristine downtown area of the city state, apparently oblivious that I wasn’t meeting his boss for the first time.

“If you know how to play, as you say you do,” Peter had said up in his room before we’d come down in the elevator, “play convincingly, but lose.”

That’s when I knew we were off to meet someone who dominated Peter Chau, supposedly the chief of the ST Enterprise operations here in Singapore, just as he had dominated me in sex in the night.

So, here in the limousine, I was set to wondering if Peter, in fact, knew Tung had fucked me—and would fuck me again—and that I’d been hired as a model and brought to Singapore from L.A. just to stand beside his fucking new car for a few hours while he launched it in front of a motley group of Asians, Westerners, South Asians, and Arabs. It appeared that ST Enterprises intended to produce its knock-off, but hand-built Bentley lookalike limos worldwide.

The handball was high level, all of us playing like our lives were on the line and, even though I, in fact, was very, very good at the sport, Simon Tung and bodyguard Bao edged a win. They did so honestly. I sensed Tung wouldn’t take well to anyone throwing a game of anything for him. Tung insisted we all play bare-chested and we all were quite impressive that way. We all were noticeably hard from ogling and bouncing off each other, and we drew quite a crowd to the glass walls around the court of onlookers ogling us and some of them, in this men-only exclusive gym, going hard as well.

When we got back to the hotel, Tung asserted I would be going clubbing with him that night, and Chau showed his subservience by not objecting. He asserted a bit of his own position, though, by immediately taking me up to his room—which had become our room when I’d arrived, sent from his specifications by my L.A. escort agency, and he’d seen me—and fucked the stuffing out of me. Chau, very well built in his mid-forties, was athletic and esthetic in his fucking—and, as I’ve already noted, surprisingly well hung.

He claimed to be a practitioner of the male Kamasutra. That afternoon, he took me several ways: the lotus position, facing each other with me sitting in his lap and him deep inside me; moving to the Arch position, in the same penetration position, but me reclining away from him, with my shoulder blades pressed to the mattress; to the Crab position, with me raising my torso up, my palms on his knees. In all positions, he was mining me deep. He had little trouble keeping himself sheathed even in transitions between the positions.

Tung did take me clubbing that night, chauffeured by Bao, who drove one of the ST Enterprises new Silver Tiger sedans, which got as much, if not more, attention than the two of us did. He took me to a leather bar, where he gave me to three Russian studs to work over while he watched. He hadn’t asked if I could take two cocks in my ass and one in my mouth simultaneously, but I could and I did. Then he took me back to his suite at the Mandarin Oriental and fucked me doggy and missionary style that had none of the finesse and art but more of the power and testing than Peter Chau had displayed that afternoon.

To get the effect of what he’d watched the Russians do with me, he went between stretching me with just his huge cock. He got a thick dildo into the act as well. I was trained to take it, and take it I did. After the first fuck, I took his fist up to the wrist as well. He hovered over me in the dimly lit room and looked down into my eyes with his, showing that it was this fetish he enjoyed most—and he fucked me and fucked me and fucked me with his fist well beyond when I gave him my load and collapsed, panting and whimpering, into his full control.

If I wasn’t an experienced international call boy, the night would have, at the least, exhausted me, and, at the most, ruined me. But I was an experienced international call boy—of somewhat a unique, specialized nature—and I reveled in the attention from the two half-Asian hunks. I wouldn’t have been in this business if I wasn’t—or, rather, I wouldn’t have put myself into a position to be maneuvered into this business if I wasn’t randy for men like Tung and Chau. Each, in his own way, was quite satisfying to a trained and needy submissive.

They also both were paying well—and I was operating on higher orders than either one of them gave.

When I left Simon Tung’s suite that night to return to a snoring Peter Chau in his room, I managed to smuggle the glass Tung had been drinking his Glenlivet scotch from and handed it to the room attendant waiting in the corridor who was my contact to my on-site controller.

* * * *

The escort agency in Los Angeles was one that specialized in the sort of international gig that I was on in Singapore, the arrangements having been made in convoluted ways that I didn’t have to worry about. I was told how far from pure modeling I was to go. The gigs were special and sometimes were dangerous, but I didn’t have to set them up, nor did I have to find the escort agency myself. Some of the clients could prove to be quite interesting. I wasn’t sure initially that this one would, but it did. Being covered by hung men who were partly Asian was a new experience for me.

Ostensibly, and in the eyes of the puritanical authorities in Singapore, I was just here for the weekend to stand by the driver’s door, with a gorgeous blonde woman standing by the passenger door, of a flashy big, new sedan, being introduced to the world as a break into the international auto manufacture world at the top by a Hong Kong manufacturing consortium, ST Enterprises. I had been hired as the male counterpart of the gorgeous blonde model, under the theory that Asians loved blondes and that there were Asians who preferred males to ogle over women. I was just eye candy, the Singaporeans letting a foreigner in to just stand there next to a new luxury car model revolving on a platform in a hotel convention center—in this case the Singapore Mandarin Oriental—where auto distributers from all over the world had been brought in to help ST Enterprises get their Bentley-like cars on all of the best avenues on the globe.

I didn’t ask why a firm with headquarters in Hong Kong but presumably factories in China—and maybe fronting for China as well—was launching their new car in Singapore. Singapore, of course, was a very Chinese city, but I had no idea why luxury auto dealers from around the world would prefer to come there rather than Hong Kong, other than that there had been some unrest in Hong Kong in recent months over China’s control there. Regardless, it was no part of my brief to figure that angle out.

What I knew, though, that the puritanical authorities in Singapore didn’t, was that there were lucrative deals and “greasing the wheels with candy” issues involved in all of this that I, as male candy, and the other model, as female candy, were being brought in to help with. In short, I was supposed to sleep with dealers ST Enterprises deemed such candy was necessary to swing their sales deals. For this, a big, fat fee was levied.

In my case, the chief officer of ST Enterprises in Singapore also was into men. I had been hired to sleep with him when he wanted me to. By the time I had mounted the revolving platform for the first time in the lobby outside the Singapore Mandarin Oriental Hotel convention center, I’d been on the job for two days and had been fucked by a Greek, an Arab, and Peter Chau, the CEO of ST Enterprises Singapore.

In less than an hour trying not to get dizzy on the platform and working on maintaining a smile and a handwave, I met the cock of an even bigger ST Enterprises daddy than Chau, although I didn’t know his name or his importance until the following day when I was rousted out to play handball with him.

I was coming onto my first break, when a thuggish-looking Asian—but thuggish in a rather arousing way—approached me with an envelope in a card that gave me a hotel room key card, a time, and a note from Peter Chau to “be there and do whatever was needed.”

What the man, a handsome, well-built, gray-haired Asian-featured dude in his early fifties, but in gymed condition, wanted was everything. He met me at the door in just a red silk robe, flared open to show a muscular torso, low-hanging balls, and a magnificent erection, and holding a cigar in one hand and a glass with amber liquid in it—Glenlivet scotch, I later learned—in the other.

He laid me on my back at the foot of the bed, legs spread and buttocks raised, expertly and methodically ate me out, fucked me with his cigar, and then covered and mounted me, and power fucked me into the next day. He even got his fist in there.

The cigar was a surprise. He had me on my back at the end of the bed, naked, and the leaning over me, looking down into my eyes with his piercing gaze. A strong hand went to my throat, grasping and squeezing. I was fighting for breath, scared stiff of that look in his eyes, scrabbling at his hand with mine, but not able to shake the grip. Then, I suddenly had something else to think about altogether. I knew it was his cigar, because he had it in his other hand, gesturing with it, when he was crouching over me and choking, releasing, and choking me again, establishing control over my breath. The next thing I knew, the cigar was inside me. For the briefest moment, I thought it was going in lit end first—the lustful, nasty expression on his face would match that torture, but then I realized it wasn’t. I relaxed, getting the hang of his breath control, and he exchanged the cigar for a thick, long cock. He knew how to power fuck. The rest of the fuck was just a master class by an experienced man with a big cock and a flexing fist.

I gave him everything, thinking he was a particularly important ST Enterprises client. I found out the next day that he wasn’t—that he was the international CEO of ST Enterprises. I also found out when I reported in to my controller, that my employers were very, very interested in the international CEO of ST Enterprises and in what he and his conglomerate were up to beyond breaking into the luxury car market.

* * * *

My time on the platform with the Silver Tiger luxury sedan was bunched around the meal and cocktail hour breaks given to the dealers during their meetings on becoming distributors for the car. The main interest generated at the platform was around the noon hour. This was when I and the other model didn’t just stand there, pointing to the car, and pretending we were in love with it. That’s when I had to invite the distributors to come up onto the platform, in orderly fashion, and look the car over in detail—sit in it, look in the trunk and under the hood, hopefully love to it with their eyes, while I reeled off facts and figures about the automobile that I had memorized and had little idea what they meant other than I had to know them well enough to latch into questions about the car and provide half-way believable answers about its amazing capabilities.

If they wanted to touch me while I was demonstrating what the car could do, I was to allow that as well. If they were interested, they could make arrangements through the ST Enterprises desk to do more than touch, on a scale that went from sharing a meal, clubbing together, to bedtime sport. If they propositioned me—and more did than I thought would—I had a card to give them sending them off to someone else to make arrangements—or not.

By 1:30, the lobby of the convention space was deserted and I could bail out for a couple of hours to myself.

The day after the ST Enterprises International CEO worked me over so totally, I got a “to-go” sandwich meal from the hotel kitchen after my noon stint with the Silver Tiger on the platform and went for a walk. I took Elizabeth Walk into the Merlion Park all the way to the famous Merlion statue on the water and found an unoccupied bench facing the water to sit in.

I ate quickly because I wasn’t here just for the view. As I was finishing, a tall man in his middle ages, but fighting the effects of that well, with military bearing, a Marine crew cut, and a look of authority, approached the bench at a leisurely pace, stood there momentarily, taking the Merlion, the water, the city skyline, and me in, and gestured for permission to share the bench, which I acceded to, with a smile.

I was a rent-boy. It was natural for me to respond to any possible overtures from a man like him. Anyone watching who knew my purpose for being in Singapore would think that was natural. And that’s how I accepted his presence—with a smile, a bit of a slouch into the bench, with my legs spread, turned a bit toward him, putting an arm across the back of the bench to jut my very nice chest at him. I added a bit of a shy look. I hadn’t eaten my cookies. I offered one to the man and he took it and gave me a smile back. His arm went to the back of the bench too. It was quite possible to discern that his fingers touched the back of my head.

“Were you followed?” he asked me, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t think so, but in a city this crowded, how would I know for sure?” I answered. “I mean, Asians. One looks more or less alike.”

“Well, we’ll make this look like hookup negotiations,” Sam Winterberry, chief of the CIA’s Candy Store Unit, said. “I’m at the Raffles. You’ll spend a couple of hours this afternoon there with me. I’ll make an off-the-books offer for you right here that you can’t resist. We’ll go to the Raffles and I’ll screw you.”

I knew what that meant, and it didn’t mean that the entire time we’d be there would be taken up by my boss at the Agency briefing me on this operation. He didn’t have to declare that he would screw me for me to know he would. That was one way he controlled his agents—he mastered them.

“Is there anything in this?” I asked. Of course I wondered if this would be the loss of a long weekend in terms of intelligence value. ST Enterprises had rung enough bells in spy circles for the Agency to set up an insertion, the insertion being me. In its Candy Story Unit, the Agency combined the two oldest professions in the world—spying and whoring. It was just a reality that the quickest way to enlist and suborn intelligence from a foreign target was to give him or her what they wanted sexually and then control them with their desire or blackmail them into cooperation. The Agency had its tentacles into escort agencies across the world. When an opportunity arose to use them and insert one of their own prostitute agents, they did so. When the ST Enterprise need for a model and rent-boy in Singapore came up, the L.A. escort agency that was contacted offered them me. I wasn’t one of their regular rent-boys. I was a staffer in Sam Winterberry’s Agency unit.

“Paydirt,” he answered. “We don’t think it’s cars they’re selling, and it’s not the most important thing they are manufacturing. Both Peter Chau and Simon Tung are up to their eyeballs in illegal armament production and sales—quite possibly for the Chinese. The strange thing is that it was their use of the Silver Tiger name that drew our attention. There was a Chinese spy some years ago who used that name. He did a lot of damage to U.S. relations with Taiwan before he went to ground and wasn’t heard from again. We think Simon Tung might be our boy.”

“Did you get fingerprints off the glass I got from Tung’s room?” I asked.

“Yes. Simon Tung is a Chinese general from Szechuan province, Tung Shao-chuan. High up in the Chinese intelligence services. He’s a slippery character. We now think he is the Silver Tiger, a major Chinese agent from earlier years. We never managed to get his fingerprints then. As soon as we’d get him in our sights, he was wriggling away. Quite a find to pin him down here. Have you heard him or Chau mention the terms Dǎjí Huǒjù, or Striking Torch?”

“Not yet,” I said. “So far nearly all I’ve heard them talk about was the next position they wanted me in.”

“Fucking you a lot, are they?” he asked dryly.

“Both, like bunnies,” I said.

“Either one of them screw you really good?”

“Yes, both.”

“You got them salivating over you?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Good to know. Dǎjí Huǒjù, Striking Torch, are the Chinese and English names for a new, Chinese-manufactured handheld rocket launcher. From what we’ve been able to learn, it looks like that’s what they’re selling here, not a fancy new automobile. The car is just a blind in front of the real sales. We’re busy tracking down the buyers who have shown up. This looks like a gold mine for us. You’ll keep working it for as long as we can. Maybe we can recruit Tung or Chau through you.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Is that all for now?”

“No, that fucking isn’t all for now, and you fucking know it isn’t,” he said. His voice was gruff, but he was smiling. “We set this up to make it look like a hookup for anyone who is watching. So, that’s what it will be. We’ll go to the Raffles now.”

This didn’t surprise me a bit. Winterberry controlled all of his staff prostitutes with sex, and he was a master at the power fuck. And that’s how I spent the afternoon, in a room at the historic Raffles Hotel, on my knees and on my back and straddling the big boss’s gigantic erection and riding it into the sunset. I did everything he wanted, and he wanted it all.

Then I went back to the Mandarin Oriental. Peter Chau took me to dinner in the hotel restaurant and then to his room. There I went on my knees for him just as I had earlier for Sam Winterberry—and on my back. And I straddled his erection and rode him for a while too. His cock wasn’t as thick as Tung’s was, but it was longer, and he liked to drive it to the root. Sam Winterberry was bigger in all dimensions than either of them were. When we were done, Chau informed me that I’d be going clubbing with Simon Tung that evening.

All seemed to be settling in, with my antennae up to pick up anything I could to indicate what these men were really selling. As Chau showered, I used my minicamera to photocopy all of the papers on his desk, showing names and figures and addresses. I managed to pass the film to the same room attendant I’d give the glass with Tung’s fingerprints on it the night before, but that’s where my intelligence work ended for now.

* * * *

Tung wasn’t going clubbing that evening. He was flying out on a private jet for somewhere—and he was taking me with him. I didn’t think I’d been made. I didn’t think he was neutralizing my intelligence collection. I thought he just enjoyed fucking me and decided to take me with him when he left Singapore as a party favor. I had no idea where we were flying or even the direction we were flying in, and, of course, it all happened so suddenly and without informing me that I had no opportunity to let Winterberry’s people know what was happening. Wherever we were going and forever long it took, I spent the time on my back on a bed in a cabin in the private jet, with Tung doing pushups on me and vigorously giving me his cock. I became a member of the Mile High Club.

“Don’t worry,” Tung had said as I realized we were entering the airport, not a gay nightclub, “I’ve wired money to the Los Angeles escort agency to extend your contract.”

It wasn’t the L.A. escort agency I was worried about keeping track of me. The Chinese general Tung Shao-chuan most certainly was a slippery character.

* * * *

So, this was what it was like to join the Mile High Club, I thought as I lay on my back on the bed in the corporate jet, my knees hugging Simon Tung’s hips and my fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, He was crouching crouched over me, between my thighs, his hands on my throat, controlling my breathing as he had done in the Singapore hotel, as his eyes drilled into mine to take in my expressions of being totally taken. He was thickly inside me, my channel still struggling to stretch to accommodate him, and his hips moved, rapidly, violently. I struggled to relax enough to continue opening to him, wanting to fuse with him, needing to get the enjoyment out of this that he was taking from me. He fucked me deep in my central core, where few other men had reached, and I managed to open complete to him, to give him what he wanted, and to get what I needed for myself, given that I had no choice here.

He most certainly was a strong, virile, vigorous man for his age. I had taken many a man in service to my country—and before that—but Simon Tung was among the most masterful—and Sam Winterberry, as well. Men on different sides of criminality, but in many ways the same. Both cruel, but both totally satisfying. Neither, however, gave me enough regard to give me time to move together to the deep, vigorous fuck. Both of them went there before me, giving no regard to my needs.

He had barely finished and seemed to be contemplating whether he could manage another round—having fucked me all the way from Singapore more than a mile above the earth’s surface—when a knock on the door from Bao revealed that we were approaching Zhuhai Ziuzhou Airport. A questioning look from me elicited a “Macao” from Tung, as he rose off me and went to the shower in the small bathroom off the bedroom compartment. Bao remained at the door, looking at me, spread out, legs open, arms akimbo, well fucked, and I realized for the first time that he wanted to fuck me as well. His gaze had gone immediately to my openly exposed, gaping hole, spread wide by Tung’s thickness. There was no question that Bao wanted to dive into that himself. I closed my legs, and Bao looked away.

Macao, I thought. Hadn’t ST Enterprises’s own literature said the company was headquarters in Hong Kong? If so, and Winterberry and his operatives believed that was so, they were off the beam. Macao was just across the water from Hong Kong, but it was a world away from it when you were trying to pin an international criminal down. They were controlled by entirely different sets of Chinese Tong warlords, the mob bosses of China’s underworld that had been in play since the empire, before Communist rule.

I didn’t have time to contemplate further on this, being afraid that, even if Winterberry’s people figured out that Simon Tung was the reason I disappeared in Singapore and that he’d be taking me back to his base, they would look for me—and him—in the wrong place, before Tung was out of the shower, commanding me to shower and dress and be ready to leave the plane.

As the plane was taxiing into the small terminal, Tung told me that we weren’t actually in Macao and wouldn’t be going there—or Hong Kong, across the vast Pearl River bay from Macao, where the bay entered the South China Sea. We would be driving north, remaining on the Chinese mainland, to the city of Zhongshan, half way between Macao and the giant Chinese metropolis of Guangzhou, once known as Canton.

My anxiety was relieved somewhat as we were descending the stairs at the small airport and moving toward a couple of black Communist Chinese-brand Hongqi limousines and I was contemplating why Simon Tung wouldn’t be driving here in his own Silver Tiger-brand sedans. As we were coming down the stair, my eyes connected with those of a Chinese man in coveralls, holding a petrol hose and opening a flap under the jet we were leaving. I recognized him from an earlier operation in Taiwan as one of Sam Winterberry’s operatives.

I wasn’t as alone as I had thought I would be.

We drove through rural, but still heavily populated terrain, where small mudbrick houses, topped with red terracotta tiled roofs perched in corners of small rice fields but these areas interspersed with large factories and high-rise boxy apartment houses for about an hour. The cars slipped in through a guarded gate between two steep-sided hills that probably were hardened lava pillars of a volcano long ago eroded away, and there we were in a small valley, crammed with a large manufacturing plant with smoke billowing out of five tall smokestacks.

Our destination was an ancient Chinese compound that looked like a temple that was perched on a terrace a quarter of the way up one of the hills. It may once have been a temple complex, but it now was a mansion composed of a series of interconnected platform pavilions, colorfully painted, and with red-, orange-, and green-tiled roofs.

When we arrived at the temple compound in the late morning, Simon Tung left us, and Bao gave me a short tour of the pavilions. All of the attendants I saw in the complex were young, fit men—and not all Chinese. But they were all in olive-green military fatigues. I searched the face of every one of them I could. None of them were recognizable to me as one of Sam Winterberry’s men.

After the tour I was conducted to a stone-walled chamber under one of these pavilions and locked in. The roof was lush, Oriental carpeting on the floor, a large bed covered in a silk coverlet and piled with silk pillows, and tapestries on the walls. There was a commodious en suite bath. All very nice. But the windows, set high up on the walls, had bars on them and the door locked behind me. I was a prisoner as well as a guest.

I truly was on my own now.

* * * *

Bao came for me as the sun was coming down and escorted me to what must be the dining pavilion. Simon was there, dressed as a Chinese army general. I guess that decided who he was and what he represented. In settling that, part of my mission was fulfilled—if I could get the information to where it needed to go. I was seated at his right, or was knelt there. The table was low and we knelt on pillows. He was both attentive and affectionate to me, telling me what all of the many small dishes of food that were presented were. I had been given a silk robe, with nothing underneath it, to wear to the table. I presumed I was for dessert. It was my job to make him want me—and it probably was my hold on life to do so, so I concentrated on that. From time to time, he inserted a hand into the folds of the robe and gave me a feel here and there. When he did, I’d turn dreamy eyes to him and encourage him to kiss me—to want me.

Dessert didn’t happen that way, though. Before the small dishes—Simon had said this was dim sum, small portion dishes—stopped coming, Bao came to the edge of the platform and called Simon away. When he returned, he was decidedly frosty. He stayed only a few minutes more and rose and left without saying anything to me.

Bao came for me and rather roughly pulled me up from the table. He was backed up by two young soldiers. I made no attempt to struggle or break away, but he still manhandled me down from the platform and then into a door in the rock-walled base of one of the pavilions. I asked him what was wrong, but he refused to say anything.

Simon was there, waiting for us, stripped down to his military trousers, with high black-leather boots. He was glowering and had a many-stranded hand whip in his hand. His torso was magnificent. I did try to struggle now as I saw that Bao and the soldiers were going to strap me to an X-frame, facing the wall.

“No, no, this isn’t needed,” I cried out. “I’ve given you everything. You don’t need to . . .”

 Simon took a couple of steps toward me, backhanded me nastily across the face, snapping my head to the side, and that was that. I realized I was totally outnumbered and further resistance would be unnecessarily painful.

We got into the unnecessarily painful anyway.

I was bound, naked to the X-frame, and Simon whipped me on the back, buttocks, and thighs until I was sobbing and hanging on the frame. He toweled himself off, draped his army shirt around his shoulders, and left the sexual torture chamber without saying a word to me.

He did speak to Bao, though. “You may have him, then take him through the factory. Let him see all that he came to see, and then do it.”

So, somehow I was blown. Somehow Simon had been told who I worked for and why I had been thrown at him.

My eyes scanned the room. This was, indeed, a sexual torture chamber. All of the equipment needed to test someone sexually was here. For the first time, I saw that there was another young man stretched out on a rack, his body covered with blood and bruises. I realized that it was Sam Winterberry’s man who had been posing as an airplane mechanic at the airport we’d landed at—the guy who had given me a reassurance look. There wasn’t much to be reassured by now in the direction of being saved from this.

I wondered what the next apparatus was that I’d be put on. But I wasn’t. Bao and the soldiers released me and I sank to the stone floor, in a heap. Bao, now naked, his body short, solid, muscular, ran an arm under my belly and pulled me up to my knees, right there on the floor. Paying no heed to the welts Simon had raised on my back, buttocks, and thighs, Bao covered me from behind and above, mounted me, worked his cock inside me, and fucked me to his ejaculation. He wasn’t long, but he was extraordinarily thick. And he was cruel, stretching me to the limit, exhausting me with his virility and endurance, able to take himself to the edge, back off, and then go to the edge again, making the most of what I assumed, wrongly, would be his only go at me. I was disposable goods now. Not worth a condom.

There was a locker room off the chamber and, after Bao had taken his pleasure at great length, edging off as he approached an ejaculation until that last time he couldn’t hold it any longer, he had the two young soldiers drag me into the shower and clean me up. He showered there beside me, his eyes, denoting his position as sexual conqueror, drilling into me. They put the silk robe back on me, tied my wrists off behind my back, and dragged me down the side of the hill, to the large factory below, where I was given a tour of the plant. The front sections were where they were building the Silver Tiger automobiles. Each one was being constructed by hand, so they, were, in fact, producing automobiles.

But they were only making them as a front.

With pride, Bao took me into a building off to the side, where they were manufacturing something entirely different. I could clearly see that it was weaponry, and since I already was told by Sam Winterberry that ST Enterprises—and Simon Tung, no doubt the original for the company’s initials—were producing a new generation of handheld rocket launchers, the Striking Torch, the Dǎjí Huǒjù, I had no trouble realizing I was in the heart of their arms factory. Again the S and T initials.

There was no way, I knew, that they were going to show me these weapons in production and let me live. That was clear. And when Bao, gesturing the two soldiers away, grabbed my arm and pulled me toward an exit door, taking up a shovel leaning next to the door, as he opened it to the night air, I knew this was “it.” That was evident when he pushed me out of the building and gave me a backhand slap that sent me to my knees. We were in some sort of small dirt field, with mounds of dirt in them. Graves. This was where they buried people, after dying from whatever happened. There was a freshly dug grave. Mine, I knew.

This was it.

But this wasn’t it—not yet. Bao wanted seconds. He pulled me up from the ground, slammed me against the concrete wall of the building, unzipped and released himself, and pressed me against the wall with his body. He was too strong for me. I hadn’t had any energy to resist him or anyone else since Simon had whipped me. Grasping my thighs, he pushed my back up the concrete wall, causing me to scream at the pain of the scrape of my cuts on the rough concrete. He spread and lifted my thighs, hooking them on his hips, putting his cock in position, thrust up inside me, and fucked me against the wall.

I think it was my scream that did it—that told the commandos in the three helicopters where to zoom in and land. Bao pulled out of me and let me drop to the earth, which saved me. He had no more of a chance than to turn, heading for the door, when the line of bullets traced along the wall above me and through him.

Plastering the area with gunfire, the three black helicopters landed, and men in black were bailing out of them. There, in front, and above me, was Sam Winterberry.

“We can’t stay long,” he called out to me. “Do you have any idea what we should blow before we pull you out?”

The tour had been useful. “They’re making the rocket launchers in the building right here behind me,” I answered.

“Great. Good to know. Get in the helicopter.”

“You have a man, the guy working as an airplane mechanic, in a torture chamber under the temple up on the hill there,” I said.

“We know. He was chipped and led us here. We’ll get him. You, in the copter now, though.”

We were up in the air when the first blast took the building Bao had been fucking me against. Another couple of rockets exploded the temple complex on the side of the hill as a helicopter rose from there and joined ours to roar away. I didn’t know at the time whether the blast at the temple got Simon Tung. That only became clear some weeks later.

The freighter well off the coast in the South China Sea was camouflaged beautifully. It looked like a regular giant tanker-type vessel even from the air, but there was a helicopter landing zone in the center and three covered bunkers for the helicopters to be stashed in.

The accommodations were quite luxurious for a scruffy-looking freighter—at least the quarters Sam Winterberry took me to. They had all of the medical supplies needed for him to apply salve and bandages to my trashed back. The pain killers did the job. More important, Sam knew fuck positions that didn’t bring the welting into play.

A couple of days later we were back, briefly, in Singapore, where the ST Enterprises people there had been seized and Sam’s people were working on tracing those who had come from around the world to look at the Silver Tiger automobile but to buy arms. I was breakfasting at the Raffles in the morning, still recuperating from the whipping I took when I heard a familiar voice. I rose and went to the door of the restaurant in time to see Simon Tung exit the hotel and get into a chauffeured car. It was a Mercedes, not a Silver Tiger.

“You bastard! You BASTARD! Why am I only hearing of this now? So what, now I have to cope with staying here AND doing all the dirty work for those filthy creatures all weekend?”

“Jen, do you actually hear yourself? They are NOT “creatures”, they are people like you and me! And its only for two days, I didn’t exactly ask the Bishop to send me for an interview at another Parrish in the middle of winter!”

“Yeah, go on! Tell it like it is, why don’t ya! Tell me how the village folk are so fed up of me, that they are doing their best to get rid of us. Because that’s what you really wanna say, isn’t it? Go on! I don’t care what TRASH thinks of me!”

I clenched my teeth, so the point that it actually started to hurt.

Yes, to be honest, Jen’s way of life was beginning to hurt my status as vicar of the village and whilst I was pretty sure I still had the respect from the community and the backing of the Bishop, things seemed to escalate a few weeks back when mu wife, came to the soup kitchen in the community hall, drunk as a skunk, and made the most horrible scene she possibly could have.
Insulting the homeless and poor folk to the point where she was dragged home drunk, was just about the icing on the cake.

I hated to take Thomas, my ten year old son, out of his comfortable environment and in where he grew up in. And I knew that where ever we went, Jen was not gonna suddenly stop wth her drinking and her disgusting attitude. Not until I can give her the life she wants, in saying that, full of cash, endless shopping trips and of course, a huge house and the golden status as a kept wife.

We only got married in the first place as she was pregnant with Thomas when we were both fifteen years of age, and my father who was the vicar at the time, forced me to man up and do the right thing.

And then there was the secret that no one, not even Jen, nor Thomas knew about…the very same one that could cost me my career and livelihood…that I was living a lie, had been for twenty-five years.

That I, Vicar Josh Adams, was gay, and had lost the love of his life at fifteen, Tommy, after whom my son was named, after it came out that I got Jen pregnant at my fifteenth birthday party.
To this day, I still couldn’t remember even so much as touching her, but Thomas was the spitting image of me, so I guess that settled that argument.

“Jen, I’m taking Thomas with me. We’ll only be gone the weekend. So, apart from feeding the homeless, which you have the cooks and the village folk to help you with anyway, you don’t have to do a thing. So I don’t know where these, these tantrums are coming from. We have to get ready, our bus will be here in a few minutes.”

“Bring me back some wine, will ya?” Jen said as she turned the telly back on. My God…just keep me from saying something I’d really regret…

* * *

Chelsea was a beautiful place. A little weird seeing all the blue half of London paraded all over the place, especially when me and Thomas were devout Manchester United fans. The kittle ten year old tyke didn’t quite know where to look, and at what to look first, his eyes was literally everywhere. This being his first time out of the village and our surrounding rural areas into an actual big city must have been great for him. A real adventure.

He had such a tough hold on my hand though, that he almost gave me a bruise. As excited as he must have been, he also knew what I’d never find him in a million years if he got lost around here. I took him to have some lunch, just good old fish and chips with a small soda, since money was still a little tight and the cost of the bus ride to Chelsea was more than I had budgeted for.

Seeing all of this through the eyes of an innocent child, was much more awesome and enthralling than I ever thought possible. Thomas was my world. I worked, loved and breathed for him.

* * *

The interview went reasonably well, I was forced to leave out that my wife was addicted to alcohol, because that would be the deal clincher, wouldn’t it?

No, I wanted to get the job on merit, and my portfolio was strong. My grandfather, father and now me, were all vicars of a Parrish, and it certainly gave me a solid heads up against the other applicants.

Armed with Thomas at my side, we said goodbye to Chelsea, as well as our little adventure and hopped back onto the bus which would take us back home.

It was rather a long drive to be fair, and after the novelty of a bus ride warmed off, Thomas was asleep for majority of it, whilst I had my Stephen King to read, and made some conversation with the handsome, and dared I say it, openly gay man who sat next to us on the bus.

I tried my best to stay neutral and focus on the chat, but it was tough since he was a virtual stud in his own right, with blonde hair, greenish eyes and the most charming smile you ever did see. White teeth and his dimples, completed the stunning artwork in human form.

I wasn’t wearing my traditional vicar’s clothing, so I could have sworn he was totally laying on the charm, just a little too thick, and Lord help me, I would have been more than willing to have a quick romp, if I was the sort of bloke who did that. Instead, I managed to steer the convo in a new direction, each time it appeared that he wanted to…well…get deeper with me.

As we eventually pulled into the nearby towns, close to home and dropping several passengers off on the way to the final stop, which was mine and Thomas’s, the young man stood up and got his bags from the upper compartment. He also took out his wallet, and withdrew a business card, which he handed to me.

“Gimme a call sometime. We’ll have fun,” he said, his eyes firmly on my crotch as he turned around and got off the bus.

For the first time since Tommy, I had just gotten any kind of real sexual attention from a male…and I got to say…it felt mighty GOOD. And a cute little birdie seemed to whisper inside my ear …hey, you still got it…which I laughed off silently.

Gently waking Thomas up, telling him we were nearly home, he sat up bright and rested, once more with that kiddie smirk on his dial, as more and more recognizable features and structures came into view. Typical of a ten year old, he had to point out every familiar feature to me, at the top of his voice.

Bless.

As the bus made its final stop at the community hall, me and Thomas got our belongings and made our way out of the bus.

“Just a second, Vicar!” the bus driver called me over as Thomas was already outside.

“I’ll be out in a minute, buddy, just wait right there,” I told Thomas and he eagerly nodded.

“Vicar, as you know, my wife is heavily pregnant, and I was wondering if you could come over one afternoon and just, you know, give her, or us, your blessing. We have been trying for so long, to have a kid and it has always been a disaster. Now, this is probably our last chance. Please Vicar?”

“Don’t you worry, Friend. I’ll make sure I find the time. God bless.”

I wished those two every bit of success they got, what with three miscarriages in their entire marriage…this time it really was their final chance, I didn’t know how much more agony one family could endure.

Getting off the bus, I looked around for my son, but he was no where to be seen.

“Thomas? Thomas!”

Where was he? I told him to wait outside the bus…

“Thomas! Has anyone seen my son?”

The things and thoughts that suddenly flooded through my brain …oh God, has he been kidnapped? It’s not like I had money…or did he run away from home because of Jen and her drinking? Could his kiddie heart not handle her rejection any more?

“THOMAS!”

“Vicar, he’s over there! I saw him run in the direction of the community hall!” one woman shouted towards me and pointed towards the building.

“Oh God, thank you, Carys!” I yelled back and stormed my way over to the hall, not even caring that I left my baggage behind at the bus stop.

As I entered the hall, my eyes flooded through the place, and I immediately saw my son. The little devil…oh…it was with WHO he was, that really shocked me.

After all these weeks…could it be…?

“Patches? Is that you?”

The handsome homeless man looked up at me, and tried to smile, but his injured face couldn’t do it justice.

“Someone hurt him, Daddy!” came Thomas’s first words to me, since I had found him.

“Thank you, son, I can see that.”

I pulled up a chair and sat myself down next to Patches. I finally got a good look at his face…dried blood everywhere, he had a black eye and a swollen lip, combined with his long hair being dirty, and full of mud, as could be. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much in days.

My heart sunk…when we last saw each other, he almost died of hyperthermia, and he would have too, if he didn’t happen to knock at the only house in the village that still had their lights on, which was mine.

After he had a nice warm, long bath and myself and Thomas gave him something to eat, I had insisted that he stayed the night, but Patches was absolutely adamant, he wanted to go, saying he belonged outside, and not with us.

I have felt massive ounces of guilt over letting this handsome fella walk out of my house for weeks now, and I’d be lying if I said, I hadn’t frantically searched for him every weekend when we handed out soup and food parcels.

No luck each time, I had even told Thomas to come and tell me if he ever spotted the nice homeless man that we had met. And that’s…of course…why Thomas must have disobeyed my orders…he had probably seen Patches go into the community hall and wanted to help him, since Patches was clearly injured!

I loved my boy, but in that moment, I loved him more than life itself.

“What…who…did this to you?” I asked Patches softly, holding on to evert inch of my will power not to hug him closely to me.

“Ah this, it was nothing, Vicar! Wrong place, wrong time. I’m just sorry, that the hoodie and stuff you gave me last time is all gone, fuckers nailed me whilst I was taking a quick wash in the park’s toilets. I had soap and all. Should have known. Can’t trust a damn Scouser.”

Dear God. Why was there so much poverty in this world?

“Did you already have something to eat, at least?”

“A lady gave me an apple earlier. Was enough. I knew it was Saturday and this place would probably be open. Cuppa soup would go down awesome right now…” Patches said, trying in his own way to make light of it, but the pain on his face stopped that right in it’s tracks.

That was it. I don’t care what Jen had to say. That house was in MY name. MINE. I wasn’t going to leave him here, like this. He needed me.

“Thomas, help me get him up. You’re coming home with us.”

“Yay!” Thomas yelled out so loud people’s head were turning.

“Uhm…hell no. No way. Your wife ain’t gonna like that, Vicar. Nuh uh.”

“I don’t care what she says. You’re coming, end of discussion.”

“What if I don’t want to? You can’t…ouch…you can’t force me!” Patches argued, his face grimacing with pain.

If stubbornness was an illness, he’d already be a sheer six feet under.

“In your condition, I think I can. Besides, you’re not gonna disappoint my son, are you? Look how he excited he is!”

Thomas was indeed already taking Patches’s hand and gently starting to pull him towards the exit.
The latter man sighed loudly and cringed as his sore stomach muscles must have given him even more pain.

“Okay. Alright. But just for a little while. I ain’t wanting no trouble between you and the missus.”
Inch, by mere inch, me and Thomas had managed to get Patches out of the community hall, which was quite an achievement since he couldn’t even walk properly. How he had gotten to the village in the first place was a sheer miracle.

Jen was already outside waiting with our family car, ready to pick us up and take us home from the Chelsea trip. So now, imagine her reaction when she saw her husband and her child, almost carrying out a homeless individual…

“Where are you two going with…that?” she spat out as we got closer.

“Jen, he needs our help. Look at him. We’re taking him home.”

“Like hell you are! Our house is a dump already, now you wanna bring more shit in there?” Jen sneered towards Patches.

“Vicar, it’s okay, I can go…” Patches whispered in my ear, his warm, surprisingly, odourless breath giving me goosebumps like I had never experienced before.

“NO. NO! Jen, if you don’t like my decision, tough! I had just had to schlep all the way to Chelsea for a job interview because people here cannot STAND you any longer! So do NOT tell me what I can, and cannot do in my own home! Thomas, help me and let’s get him inside the car.”

Never during our ten years of marriage had I ever dared to speak to Jen like that. I knew I’d have to pay for it at some stage, but right now, my focus was on helping Patches.

Once he was inside, Thomas got in beside him. Jen’s scowl hadn’t subsided as she, as glamorously as she could, got into the front seat, as to trying to save what ever face she had left. Lastly, I got in and swiftly drove us home in silence.

* * *

“Thomas, get me some more warm water. Throw this out, yeah?” I whispered to my son as I gave him the bowl of used water that I had cleaned up most of Patches’ injured face with.

As I re-entered my bedroom, there he was, looking…so defenseless, so vulnerable, so angelically beautiful…and for the utmost time I asked myself…what on earth went wrong in this man’s life to have him end up like this? On the streets, always in fights, hence his name, Patches…

He smiled as saw me.

“Will I live, Vicar? What’s the diagnosis?”

I returned his smile and sat down on the bed next to him. I sneakily reached out my hand and placed the palm on his forehead. He was a little warm, but nothing to be worried about. His skin made contact with mine, and I swear it was like a electrical current zipping through my veins…

“Diagnosis is, you’re gonna make a full recovery once you get something in your stomach! Can I help you up, are you in pain?”

“Yes Mum…and not at the moment, Mum!” he cackled as if it was the funniest joke on Earth.

“Get inside the kitchen, you!” I laughed and patted him on the back. We both made our way into said kitchen, where the succulent smells of freshly baked bread as well as a pasta salad and fried chicken was waiting for us.

Did Jen cook all this? I mean, it’s not like she couldn’t, but surely not in her current state?

Nevertheless, my darling wife was at the dining table, and Thomas was helping her place the silver cutlery in it’s rightful places.

“Oh man…now I feel awful…you guys shouldn’t have done this much trouble for me…”

“It’s not trouble at all. This is how normal folk eat lunch, see? Sit down, and enjoy. I have an appointment though, so I can’t join you guys. What a real shame. Bon appetit!”

“Hey, Jen! What appointment is this?” I asked, keeping my voice low, because I had a sickening feeling she was making up excuses to get away from Patches, and even more sad, she wasn’t even trying to hide it..

“Uhm, yeah, it’s called “None of your Business”. If you can keep things from me and do stuff I don’t agree with, then so can I. Later, Sweetheart.”

That woman. She’d be the death of me yet.

* * *

It was an absolutely gorgeous meal. Everything always tasted heavenly when enjoyed with people you actually wanted to spend time with. That was pretty obvious.

Thomas totally ousted his mother when he told us that he helped Jen warm up the bread, gotten from the local market, and the rest of the food was all take out from the village bed and breakfast.

I inwardly cringed at how much all of this had cost, done in sworn revenge for me basically going against her wishes, and it was not like Jen knew that Patches was coming for dinner. Hopes that she must have done all this for us three to have a meal together…perhaps, just perhaps, there was still some decency inside her?

Nah.

I smiled happily as I saw how well Thomas and Patches were getting along. Thomas was normally a friendly boy anyway, but it did take some time for him to open up to strangers. And here these two were, chatting and making jokes as if they had known each other for years.

Now that Patches had been cleaned up and I have given him some of my own clothes to wear, he was like an whole new person. His smile was infectious, his laugh was brilliant and he had so many stories to tell. Only the good ones tho, he made sure of that being in a ten year old’s presence, which I was thank full for.

All the soon it was nearing seven a clock, and Jen still wasn’t home. I excused myself and Thomas, and swiftly gotten him ready for bed. After he had brushed his teeth and said his prayers, I opened up his favourite storybook, but before I could start to read, he stopped me.

“Daddy…can…Uncle Patches read to me tonight?”

Momentarily stunned, I closed the book and caressed his shoulder.

“I, uhm…I dunno buddy. I suppose we can ask him…”

“Please! Just one. Then I’ll go to sleep. Promise!”

Manipulation 101. Kid must have gotten that from his mother.

Sighing, I stood up and walked back into the kitchen, from Thomas’s bedroom. Patches was still sitting at the dining table, with his head placed on his arms.

“Hey, Friend. You okay?” I asked, as I gently reached out and touched his shoulder.

“What? Oh yeah…I’m okay. Damn, must have fallen asleep. Haven’t had this much to eat in like…can’t even remember.”

He stretched out his arms…the sheer muscle on those biceps almost made me drool.

“Well, this is kinda embarrassing, so I’ll just come out and say it…Thomas wants YOU to read him his bedtime story.”

Patches blinked twice, never taking his eyes off me.

“Me? Really?”

“No worries, I’ll just tell him you’re way too tired, it’s really no big deal…”

“You kidding me? After all you guys have done for me? Don’t think I have forgotten how you two saved my life a few weeks back. I haven’t. And I’d love to read to him. Anyway, I kinda dig the kid, so it’s a win-win for all.”

Astounded, but relieved, I signaled for Patches to follow me to Thomas. When we entered his room, Thomas sat up and held out his fist towards Patches.

“Awesome! Yeah! It’s a cool story, you won’t be bored!”

I had to hide a smile as Patches sat down carefully next to my son and started to read where Thomas showed him to. Of course I knew the words by heart, but hearing and listening to Patches say them, so solidly and even going as far doing his own voices to the characters, seeing Thomas curl up in delight, created such a warm, loving feeling inside my heart.

This…this is what I thought my life would be like, ten years ago. Me, Tommy, and the kids we always dreamed we would have. Us making turns to read them stories, teaching them right from wrong, making sure they were loved and cared for.

A tear escaped my eye. I didn’t wanna show weakness in front of my son and even less in front of Patches, so I turned around and left the room.

I took a walk outside in our small get garden, with no sign at all from blossoms as it was winter and lightly snowing. The cold air sniped through me, but if Patches could handle it, so could I.
I felt a presence behind me. I turned around quickly and walked face first into Patches’ body. My feet slipped from underneath me in the snow and I started to fall.

With the speed of a ninja, Patches grabbed hold of me and stopped me plunging down head first. I stumbled in trying to keep my balance and we both landed on a clump of snow on the cold frost. I felt a pair of hands gently squeeze my shoulders.

“You okay, Vicar?” he whispered.

Snowflakes kept falling on our bodies, especially our hands and faces which had no protection against the sheer cold.

His eyes, his beautiful turquoise coloured eyes…

“I’m…I’m more than okay…” I said before taking the plunge and planting my lips on his in a fierce rapid fire.

If I ever had thought that he was going to recoil away from me in sheer disgust, I was solemnly mistaken.

With a gentle flick of his hand, he pulled me upwards to him and cupped my cold face with his equally frozen hand.

Softly, he caressed the side of my face over and over, and I felt like melting into him, until I saw his lips heading towards my own. I captured his tired, cold lips with a desperate flood of passion, determined that our kiss would somehow, warm him up internally.

He held me very, very gently in his arms, as if I’d break if he allowed me to go free. His hands travelled upwards to my neck, and his eyes had fire inside those cold temperatures. He pulled me close to him and me, fully expecting him to snog me once more, all he did was place a lonely kiss on my forehead.

My whole entire body ached for him to do more, for me to do more.

“We can’t. We…we just can’t…”

I hugged him tighter against me. I didn’t care how he smelled or how dirty or wet his clothes were at that moment. I just wanted him, only him. Nothing lese mattered.

He ran his fingers through my hair whilst still holding me tight, my head still tucked in snugly underneath his chin.

“We can’t, Vicar. You’re married. You have your faith. You have so any people who look up to you, respect you. I’m just some bum, who doesn’t even know his real name…”

“You’re so much more than that. From the first moment I saw you, there was something between us. I know it. You know it.”

I felt a kiss on top of my hair.

“We can’t, okay? Let’s get inside, or this time YOU will be the one nearly freezing to death!”

With his arm around me, we slowly got up, and still in his warm, loving embrace, he led me back into the house. He grabbed the blanket that we had on the couch, mainly for Thomas when he fell asleep in front of the telly, and covered me up.

“There we are. All nice and warm. Like your heart…” Patches said, placing his hand palm slowly onto my chest.

“I can feel your heart beating…” he whispered.

“It’s because you’re holding me,” I whispered back.

Cracking a smile, he turned around and grabbed his belongings.

“I have to go, the last bus comes at eight. I can’t miss it.”

“Wait, come on, Patches! You can’t just leave? I mean…when…will I see you again?”

Patches came close, stood near to me, and once more, took both my hands inside his.
“I promise,” he whispered, before letting go, and left at the back door.

Silently I sunk down onto the couch, the blanket still around me. I could still smell him, his own unique aroma, his essence, suddenly not so nauseating any more.

My whole life, I have wanted, searched for, and craved this. THIS! A home, a husband and a kid.
I could hear Jen arriving in our car outside. She had the music on full blast. Not a care in the world.

I had felt more intimacy and more happiness with a virtual stranger, than I had ever felt with Jen.

Didn’t that just say it all?

* * *

“Come on, Thomas, you’ll be late for school!”

“Oh, let him stay home, it’s not like he’s gonna become anything he ever wants to be. Should learn that from the get go,” Jen added her two cents worth.

“He can be who ever he wants. He’s a smart boy, if you bothered to notice.”

“You were top of your class too back in the day. And look where we are now. Just saying, Josh! You could have done a lot better had you not chosen to preach to the masses.”

Urgh…she makes me so damn MAD! I sent up a silent prayer to the Big Man upstairs for the use of the word, damn, and grabbed the newspaper, just to have something else to do.

My heart stopped momentarily. I literally couldn’t breathe.

On the front page of today’s newspaper, splattered across the page… were…

“HOMELESS MAN FOUND DEAD”.

“Patches…” I whispered.