Blog

7

(Intervention) 

After speaking with Billy Webb in his room following the incident involving the SKU, he quickly walked down the hall toward his office. This behavior was utterly unlike him and seemed extreme. He wanted to ensure his judgment before allowing Billy Webb to return to Horace Taylor. He knew that Billy Webb had an abusive and manipulative nature and could potentially pose a danger to others. Trauma can have unusual effects on people’s thoughts and behaviors. For instance, there is the well-known Stockholm Syndrome, where individuals taken prisoner or kidnapped might develop protective and friendly tendencies towards their abusers. He knew he would need support in dealing with this situation, possibly involving medical and legal intervention. It might not hold up in the long run, but he needed time and couldn’t let that young man return to Horace Taylor with a clear conscience.

He practically flew past the nurse’s station. Doctor Jerry Johnson was the attending physician on the floor today. He saw Michael go by and said, “Hey Michael, how are you?”

Michael Fischer was upset with him, so he paused and approached the desk. He looked to make sure none of the patients could hear this. He barked, “I will tell you how I am, Jerry, Fuck You! You sign off on another one of my patients being slung into SKU after he was sedated with two orderlies and the charge nurse present. You and I will have a hot date with the review board. He’s so confused and upset now that he discusses signing out against medical advice (AMA). Keep up the good fight, you and Donna. The mental health tag team of ineptitude.”

He stared at the big man briefly and continued to his office. He swept his ID, and it clicked open, and he felt like kicking the door in. Michael Fischer was usually mild in manner but not when it came to mishandling one single solitary patient. In his opinion, you could modify a Shakespearean quote for him on that. “Wrong one of my patients. Do I not kick in your damned head.”  This was one of the few things he was sensitive about. He was a bulldog gone mad where his patient’s welfare was concerned. Then, throwing Billy Webb into SKU had been exaggerated and just plain stupid.

He sat down and began dialing the fist of two familiar numbers. On the fourth ring, Susan Ensign, business partner and ex-wife, answered. She sounded, “Dr. Elaine Ensign, how may I help you?”

Micheal didn’t beat around the bush, “I need backup, Susan. I am so fucking infuriated that I could bash this damn phone up against the wall!”

Susan thought it was time to soothe the psychiatrist with some psychology at home. She dropped her tone and whispered. She asked, “I see you are at South Shore. What happened, Michael? Try to breathe calmly. I have not heard words like those from you in a spell.”

“He leaned back in his seat and said, ‘Gerardo Fuentes had to call me. Billy Webb was upset for some reason, so Donna shot him full of Haldol and put him into SKU. Jerry signed off on it. Now, he is talking about signing out of AMA. He wants to return to Horace Taylor. My dear, sweet Susan, we absolutely cannot let that happen. I need a little more time with him. Something isn’t right here, Susan; of course, when is it ever in such cases? This is more out of sorts than usual, and this place is not only failing to help me. They are flailing my damned efforts.”

She sounded surprised, “The Billy Webb I was in there and saw earlier? Or does he have an evil psychotic twin? I was there just before lunch, and he was fine. As far as you, this is the only day you were taking off this week, wasn’t it?”

He was still irritable, “Ah, that’s fine, I’ll live. I have completed two medical degrees. What exactly is a day off? I think the concept has almost faded from my mind.”

Susan continued, “Next question, how much sleep have you been getting lately?”

He put his free hand to his forehead, “Honestly, not much. I need to take some time when I get this current load from me. But this is not about me. This is not about me; there are bigger fish to fry. This is justified indignation and plain anger at callous incompetence.”

His ex said, “You want to conference and call the Honorable Judge Rhinehart?”

He replied, “We could do it ourselves, but circumstance being what it is, he will do it tomorrow after the review board approves it. Getting Lance to throw legal mumbo jumbos at it will hang things up for maybe two weeks. It is going to destroy his trust in me. There is no direct solution, so I would rather have the time.”

She said, “Get Lance on the phone. When have I ever not backed you? We will regain his trust, as you are so fond of saying you are darn tooting we will.”

Doctor Jerry Johnson was darkening his office door when he said, “Hang on a few, Susan, and then I will conference us all in.”

He pressed the hold button and looked at the stocky ex-Army man, who said, “Are you okay, Michael? Donna Hayes had already gotten the Haldol on board when I signed that. I figured he would sleep the whole time down there. He was upset. You know I am not into heavy tactics in how I practice. Please don’t be angry, we are friends. I didn’t think it would make him a jackrabbit on us.”

Michael softened and said to him, “It’s me, Jerry. I am just tired, and that is something I have run into her with one too many times.”

Jerry said, “Julia and I were talking the other day, and we agreed we hated to see her come on duty. The three of us could solve that problem at the monthly review. The administrative here thinks you shit gold. The problem is, I am not sure they are far off the mark. You are a good Doctor, Michael, and it is good to see someone showing some passion for their practice.”

Michael said, “Thanks, Jerry. You are not bad, either. Now, I must call the Judge.”

Jerry said, “Thank you as well. I will let you charge the windmill.”

The big Doctor closed his door as he left, and Michael began to dial. Calling a state judge on Sunday was not his favorite pastime.

In Glyn Ellyn, down in Horace’s basement, what was going on there was likely not Version 2.0’s or Jack-Off’s favorite pastime either. The mad Computer Scientist had done one of his most elaborate twists on reality yet. He was sitting watching and had a smile on under his leather mask. He had used the code to make a coffee table-sized Black Widow spider. It was vicious, but it would only do so if he willed it to. Headache was hanging from the ceiling upside down, wrapped up solidly with the webbing. As he had named it, Charlotte was yanking Jack-Off into place now and beginning to web him all up like 2.0. It would enwrap everything but the areas he wanted access to and their heads or faces.

Horace observed the eerie code construct working and decided that he liked Charlotte. He wanted to keep her as his pet. He had never really kept any pets before, finding people insignificant, let alone something that constantly made noise or sought attention, essentially an eating machine that slept all the time. Charlotte had been created almost perfectly, attuned to his thoughts. She would immediately do something if he wished for something to be done. Otherwise, he would put her in sentry mode to patrol the house and basement for security.

Jack-Off was a healthy young man about his size. He smiled as Charlotte effortlessly lifted him. It would be much stronger than any man, which it had been designed to handle and prey on. It was too easy when he wanted it to do so. If it came to that, he already had someone in mind. They would be in their home all locked up, safe and secure. In a flash of light, he and Charlotte would be there. She would go to work at lightning speed as he watched.

As it went around and round, webbing up his plaything, he had a good name in mind. Dr. Margaret Younger Black, the job-stealing and utter bitch. Now he had a bitch as well, let them meet and see who did better.

He found it fascinating how efficient his new creature was. Once that job-stealing bitch was gone. It would be made right. He would be put in a job worthy of a man of genius and superiority. It was unfortunate, not really, but the process of Charlotte taking care of someone would not be a fast one. It would work for hours, draining whomever it was. He would take one of his playthings with him to fuck or suck his cock, as he watched it happen.

No more instances of anything like his Dimwitted Cocksucker as he had given Charlotte the ability to self-teleport. She was all webbed up and entangled in Headache and Jack-Off. If they did flee, he had set rules to govern how it would collect them. The moment they were alone, there she would be to carry them back here.  It would teleport there, quickly overpower them, and flashback and web them up in the basement until he got home and had enough time to deal with them.

It was his Dimwit which had been the inspiration for her creation. His last name was Webb, and he had more than one time confided to him Horace he had arachnophobia. When he came back and rang the front doorbell, willingly, the door would be opened. He would be made to undress, and she would be upon him. The webbing was the coolest thing about his design. Again, inspired by his name, his Dimwit was good for some things. It would be better when he came back.

Her webbing had more tensile strength than the large steel girders used to construct large buildings and bridges.  Being the God he was, he could make it to nothingness. Charlotte would intercede to protect him and was strong enough to throw an M1-Abrams Tank. Simultaneously, it would work with a delicate, gentle touch as it was now, finishing up webbing Jack-Off suspended from the ceiling.

Both their reactions had been amusing as he had concentrated and manifested it into being. They had been so scared they could not move. Headache had pissed himself. He had used the electric cattle prod he bought and held him down, zapping him for being wrong. Then, I made it shower as Jack-Off was made to clean it up. He had just made a subtle thing to the fabric of reality so that its voltage did not affect him. It sure as fuck still did on them.

He thought about the moment Billy Webb would ring his doorbell. The heavy wooden door would be opened, and Horace would shiver with anticipation. He enjoyed using Billy Webb more than he did these two. He supposed that all the time in the lab with him, he had grown used to him. He was a much more advanced student than these two, even though Jack-Off had his PhD. His dissertation had been a laughable joke. On their chaired committees, it was majority rule. He was the only one that had voted to reject it. His conclusions were sloppy, and his assertions were laughable. Charlotte could write better scientifically.

He went to a wall where he had lots of stuff, including Dr. Margaret Younger Black’s name and school account, that he had ordered off the internet. Then, he rerouted it several times to his address. That had been done with minimal effort on his part, as the USPS still had some computers running Windows 95 on their networks. He couldn’t believe it. That was asking for it, so he had answered.

He selected a leather-bound riding crop. The great thing about this stuff now was that he could be as rough as he liked. He could repair the damage with concentration and thought if it injured them. He walked toward his two playthings with their asses exposed. Wrapped in something so hopeless that a heavy construction crew would be thinking about tackling it. This had been a wonderful day. As he approached, he was excited, so in turn, Charlotte began to shake and vibrate.

 

Doctor Michael Fischer called Judge Lance Rhinehart’s number. He didn’t need to look it up because they were friends who often talked and saw each other. It was 8:46 p.m., and a half-asleep Lance answered the phone. Michael grinned, imagining Lance watching a colorized western on TV in his recliner.

His grumpy assed voice said, “As my caller ID says South Shore Hospital/Restricted, this had better be my friend, Michael Fischer, or there will be some hell to pay.”

Michael hit the button to bring Susan on with them. He asked, “Tell me, my friend, what is on the glass on that wooden table beside you tonight, the vodka or the Chivas?”

The Judge said, “Michael, you are heathen, it’s Sunday, it’s a Foster’s Lager. First, why are you at work this hour on a Sunday, and second, why do you work on a Sunday approaching 9:00 p m?”

Michael said, “Because I am an exciting guy with an electric social life. We got Susan on here with us. Lance and I have a problem, and I’m hoping you can help.”

Susan said, “Hi, Judge Lance, how are you?”

He was honest, “Sleepy, and it seems every time I look in the mirror. It seems I’m no longer a young man. I am fine, sweetie. What have you two got?”

Michael spent a few minutes telling his friend about a patient’s visit. He had yet to name the patient. Only if he asked for it. Then there was a privilege, same as with a lawyer.  Then afterward, “We have a young man who signed himself in here that has given terrible details about the actions of this individual. Hell, he’s not been here long enough to do much. Now, he wants to AMA out because of fear of this individual. He wants to return to them. I need longer and believe this man to be dangerous. No, he does not have a criminal record. Nothing actionable. He is because I am your friend telling you he is.”

Susan added, “Plus, the patient is a juggernaut of stability as well. He has already submitted a dissertation for a PhD. No criminal history, no prior admits he is credible.”

Lance Rhinehart was silent for a moment. “Hell, I’ll bite. If the other party is clean, though, it will get kicked. I don’t mind, as it would not be the first time. When do you need the signed order? This will buy you two weeks at best and a court appearance. Whoever stomps it may not be happy.”

Michael said, “I sometimes don’t make people happy because I try to improve their lives. We need it in hand sometime before 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. We can keep him for twelve hours until the meds we’ve given him clear, but then he can sign and walk. In this case, that would be tragic.”

One could most likely hear the judge clicking around on a laptop. “Okay, give me his particulars, the song, and dance. I will sign the order and fax it to you tonight. It sure as hell is not for your sparkling personality.”

Michael and Susan both thanked him. Then Michael got on his laptop and pulled up all the information the Judge would need. He began to relay it to him, then had to get Joyce Allan on the line when he was done. He would tell Billy himself. He rarely ever did this; it was warranted this time. He just knew it was. He could feel it. 

 

Doctor Margaret Younger-Black was making herself a snack in downtown Chicago at one of the more decent high-rise condominium complexes.  Her dinner earlier, which was just a salad, needed more. The kitchen was open and spacious. She would have a roasted turkey sandwich on wheat with tomato and a slice of Colby cheese. It seemed there was a light breeze in the room. How odd. A large strobe of bright light was from across the other side of the kitchen. When she turned to look, it was something the mind did not accept looking at it.

She had taken one of her per-need Xanax about an hour ago. Undoubtedly, the pharmacy had not gotten the orders mixed up, and seeing a giant spider in her kitchen was a side effect. She was a pharmacy tech about it and never got a chance to call. Before she even had a chance to scream, Charlotte rocked across the space between them and seized her. It had her in a solid grab, so she could not move or even scream. The wind picked up again, and a giant flash of light appeared. She was now in a basement, and three individuals were watching this. 

One was a healthy-sized naked man wearing a leather mask. The other two she knew were from school. One was an undergrad who had just applied for graduate school. She approved his application on Friday. His last name was Headache. The other was one of their success stories, and she had chaired his PhD committee. He had applied, and she had interviewed him. Subsequently, he was hired to work for the university’s network security department. His name was Jack McDuffie. They were naked as well and looked scared.

Horace had to remove his mask as he wanted a good view. There was a look of horrified recognition on her face. He thought and concentrated carefully on Charlotte. ‘Web her all up, only leave the air passage for her nose clear. Then feed slowly and make it last. Drag it out for as long as possible.

As the spider dragged her and began to web her dangling from the rafters, this moment was very satisfying for him. He began to get excited. Using the leather riding crop to beat both of his playthings earlier, he had wanted too badly. He had repaired them as he had sent Charlotte to retrieve the good Dr. Margaret Younger-Black, the job-stealing bitch. He looked at them; he would use them to satisfy him as Charlotte worked.  Then, Billy, the Dimwit, would be asleep soon. It was time to revisit him. He could sleep in nothingness again tonight and every subsequent night until he returned to his rightful place.

Horace Taylor looked at the two younger men. He said, “2.0 you are going to suck my cock, my Jack-Off fucks you up the ass. Get with it now!”

They moved to do what he had said and got in their positions to obey him. Margaret could not move, as the webbing had held her, and whatever this thing was had bit her. It had only injected a little venom, enough to paralyze her. It worked slowly yet efficiently, enshrouding her into the webbing.  The effects of the venom did nothing to stop her all-encompassing horror. What was happening to her was terrifying.

           

Joyce Allan and Michael Fischer entered Billy Webb’s room at the psychiatric center. Although Michael despised having to do it, he knew this was the responsible and right thing to do. He had told Billy he could sign himself out when he wanted to, but he had not finished what he had to say to him at that point. Plus, the two visits from Horace Timothy Taylor confirmed his decision.

In most cases, the attending doctor would allow the case manager to deliver the news. However, Michael did things differently and rarely delegated this task. He believed that Billy Webb had the right to hear the news directly from him. Michael pulled up a chair and placed it close to Billy Webb’s bed, allowing for a comfortable distance. Billy was sitting straight with his legs hanging off the side of the bed.

Michael looked directly at him and said, “Billy, we must talk, and it is important that you try to remain calm. It would be best if you did not get upset. Is that something you think you can do?”

The young man was very intuitive, “It’s about my discharge. I won’t be upset, but you don’t realize what you are doing to me. You are only doing what you think is best for me.”

Joyce began to speak, and Michael cut her off, “I believe that what you have gone through has traumatized you to the point. You are no longer making sound judgments and returning to or even being in the same zip code with Horace Taylor. It is unwise and risky. I cannot allow you to do that in good conscience until we stabilize you. If this makes you lose confidence in me to treat you, two other good doctors practice at this center. Either one would be glad to help you, but I would like to be the one to keep helping you.”

Billy looked at him miserably and asked, “Have I gone crazy.”

This was one of the most unprofessional things a mental healthcare worker could do, but Michael could not help. He reminded him of his son so much and looked so miserable. He leaned forward and gave him a gentle hug.

He said, “No, Billy, you are not crazy. You have just had some horrible things done to you by a most awful person. It will take some work, but I will get you through this. I don’t care what it takes. Susan and I are the machine with dedication and experience. We are like combat soldiers, and we leave no one behind. You will not be the first exception. “

Joyce finally got a word in, and Michael sat back. He was doing well so far. She said, “This facility cannot legally discharge you until you have gone at least twelve hours without being medicated. Not if we discharge you, but in these cases, it is a state law we can use. We only do it in your best interest. Please believe that. Everyone here is on your side.”

Michael said, “If you want to contest this, there is a process to do so both with the hospital and the legal system. We will give you the paperwork to fill out upon your request. If the medication is impeding you from doing so, someone will assist you. You may go to the nurses’ desk to use one, or we will provide you with a cell phone, which you may use to contact a lawyer. Joyce is obligated to help you find a good one if you decide. Do you understand thus far?”

Billy said, “I understand about the twelve hours. I read the paperwork I signed. Is there more?”

Michael said, “Yes, the State Judge for this district, Lance Rhinehart, has signed an order allowing us to hold you until you are stabilized. Understand, Billy, this is only the third time I have done this in a long practice. I told you upfront, honestly. From my perspective, it is you who comes first. If you contest this with a lawyer, I was informed it will take approximately two weeks to get a hearing. I am so sorry, but we will take great care of you. There will be no more of that SKU nonsense. I hope we are still friends?”

Billy smiled and said, “Of course we are, and I believe you are a good man. It is getting late on Sunday, and you are here for my benefit. If I get legal representation, it is only because I hate the nothingness. It has nothing to do with you.”

Michael Fischer stuck his hand out, and Billy shook it. Michael felt better for having to do this. He added, “You can still have visitors, not just on Sundays. They can come anytime if we are not in therapy or the like. I will turn this over to Joyce now. I am running on fumes and need a recharge. I must go home and get a little rest. I will start working every day now until you walk out those doors. Susan will be here often as well. “

In Horace’s basement, Jack-Off was boning Version 2.0. In turn, he was sucking Horace’s cock and making loud sucking sounds. There was another sucking sound in the basement. Charlotte was slowly relieving Doctor Margaret Young-Black’s vital fluids. This was just fine with Horace the Horrible. She was an inferior job-steeling bitch. Who had stolen her last one? When Charlotte was finished, she would not be doing anything anymore.

So here it was, three weeks later and I was bringing back double the meals. That had always made the beast happier, especially since lovely Greg would be the more important one.

Until we had the van, I’d used Charley’s old pickup truck to haul guys back to the cave. It had a cover over the bed that lifted up on struts, so it worked fine. But as noted, its front end was getting clunky. I know a little about repairing cars and trucks, but not enough for that. And I found that if I just kept feeding the radiator on that van coolant and water, it would go fine. So that’s what I’d used for the last few weeks.

I’d buried the police cruiser and the bikes, including my own, in an arroyo that was close by. Thanks to the drought, there hadn’t been rain enough to wash the dirt away. But there had been a good downpour the other night, so that might be ending. Next time there was one, they could get exposed, but for now it was good enough.

So I was zipping along the downhill side of the 190. The motel and then the turn to the cave were about twenty-odd miles farther on when I heard a plane pass overhead. I watched it continue in front of me then do a slow turn and come back.

It looked like a highway patrol plane, the kind they use to speed-check cars racing down the 15 between Vegas and LA. Why would it be out here? I was miles from that.

It passed on by and I figured I was just being paranoid…when it circled over me, again.

Fuck…I’d been found. And it was zeroing in, even. How?

The only thing I could do was keep driving as the goddamned plane kept me in its sights. It would see me pull off the road and head into the cave…unless…

Unless I stopped at the hotel and…and…and what? Take Tom and Greg into one of the rooms? The Beast couldn’t come out to get them. It’d be seen, and that was a strict no-no.

So I slowed down a little. Timed my distance to the turn-off and managed to get to the side road as the plane was headed away, behind me, about to circle back. Using some rocks to  help hide me, I rushed down the road to the cave. I know I left a trail of dust for it to see, but by the time it came back to find me, I was inside the cave.

Nothing to see, anymore. Because the cave was not easily visible from above, it would think I’d just vanished. Yeah, it would call in the troops, but by the time they showed up, the beast would have been fed.

And then there would be plenty more to eat.

I drove the van in as far as I could then parked it by a side cave. I jumped out and rolled open the side door to find…

Greg was waking, but Tom was still out. I cut the tape holding them to the van’s frame then rolled my runner guy off him, so he wound up face down. I pulled Greg away and was about to lift him over one should when I noticed Tom had a watch in his right hand. I would have sworn it wasn’t there when I tied him. Then I went cold.

It was an Apple watch.

And he was pressing an emergency button on it!

That’s how they’d found me! They were tracking him!

I looked at his face and caught him closing his eyes. He was conscious and had been looking at me!

Oh, that little son-of-a-bitch. He was so going to hurt when I had my fun with him.

Greg started to struggle and howl, so I lifted him up and carried him back to…

…to…

Oh, fuck. The craft was gone. The Beast was gone. All that was left in the space where it had been was a massive pile of men’s bones. Skulls. Spines. Rib cages. Everything.

The motherfuckers had abandoned me!

The ungrateful bastards! After all I did for them!

Greg saw the bones and really began to fight me and howl. Kicking and twisting in those ways that drove me crazy with lust. But I wasn’t as strong as I’d been and he almost broke free. When that fucking Beast had left me, it had taken away my extra strength. I was close to losing him.

Suddenly, the monster within me roared. I was not going to have my needs denied. I would not be taken before being fed. I punched Greg in the gut, over and over, carried him to my pallet, slammed him face down upon it and tore the back of his boxer briefs open. He still tried to squirm, but I punched his sides and shoved his head into the shreds of clothing and found his hole and pressed my dick against it and–

“He’s here!” cut into my trance and Tom slammed into me, strips of tape still around his wrists, kicking and howling, “He’s here! He’s here!” as cops spilled into the cave and pounced on me and someone smashed my head against a rock and then came darkness.

Joni took a fifteen day leave from the Marines. She made her way to her apartment in Carlsbad. There she drew a bath and slid into the perfumed water. She raised her shapely legs and carefully shaved each one.  She carefully shaved her clitty. Her skin was soft to the touch.

She picked a black laced bra with matching panties to wear. Her clitty was jumping around as she slipped on her petticoats. She chose a pretty pink one with white lace, a red one with lace ruffles and to top them, a pretty white lacy one. She put on a garter belt and stockings. She chose a pretty pink skirt and white blouse and then she put on her long red wig. She looked herself over and satisfied with how she looked, went out for a walk.

The air along the beach was pleasant and the small breeze would often raise her petticoats and skirt. As she walked along the sidewalk she came upon an elderly man sitting alone. The man said something and not hearing what he said she stopped and said,

“Excuse me, I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I said, what’s a pretty thing like you doing, walking alone?” 

“Oh,what a sweet compliment and I often walk by myself. And thank you.”

“Would you like some company tonight? I mean, that is if I  am not being too forward.”

Joni looked the man over as the breeze lifted her skirt and petticoats. She noticed his eyes leaving hers and moving to glance at her legs. Her clitty twitched and she was wanting some spit and more. Smiling she said,

“Sure, I’d like that and no, you are not being too forward. My name is Joni, Joni Kaye.”

“Hi Joni! My name is Michael Kerns. I live down the road a piece.”

As they walked a while, she began to feel his hand touch her thighs. It was like a hot current would run through her every time he would touch her. She moved closer to him so the touch would occur more:often. They neared his apartment and he said,

“Well, this is where I live. Would you like to come in for a drink?”

“Mmmm,that sounds nice and yes I’d love a drink.”

They went in and she sat on the loveseat while he fixed the drinks. He came over with the drinks and sat next to her. They made small talk and she noticed that he had moved closer. She didn’t know quite what to do. Would he get angry when he found a cock instead of a vigina? His one had was around the back of her and the other was ion her knee and making its way up her leg and under her petticoats.

“OH god, I hope you find what you’re looking for under there.” She whispered to him as he drew her in for a kiss.

“OH you sweet gurl, I know I will find what I like.” He said as their lips met and their mouths opened to let their tongues dance with each other. Joni moaned with pleasure as his hand massaged her clitty. She pushed against the hand. The kiss was long and sweet as she felt the feeling of satisfaction beginning to develop.  As she moaned the older man began to get excited. He knew who she was and had waited for this moment to happen. From the first time he saw Joni, he knew he had to have her. So he would often sit on the bench and wait, hoping that she would walk by. Now tonight he will try to get her naked.

They finally ended their kiss and trying to grasp for air, Joni said,

“Wow, you are such a great kisser and I see that you found something you like!”

“Yes I did! I’ve wanted to touch it for a long time. Ever since I first saw you. You’re such a sexy thing and I  want to take you to bed.” He boldly told her.

She gave him a sexy smile and whispered to him. “Honey, I am yours for tonight. Make love to me, fuck right here. Please, I need to be fucked now, please fuck me now.

Michael took her panties off and turned her around, he took the gel out of her purse and applied it to her pussy and to his hard cock. Joni moaned with pleasure as he worked to get her pussy ready. With her bent over the love seat, Michael, with his cock lubed up, began the journey into the confines of the tight pussy.

“OH yeeesss, yeeesss! Push your cock deep into my pussy. Oh baby yeeesss, yeeesss fuck me hard. Oh god, your cock feels so good. Ooooooh,  yesssss fuck yeeesss! Push it in deep.” Joni said, almost crying in pleasure. She felt the hard cock opening up the tunnel of her pussy.

“Damn your pussy is tight!.” Michael said as he pushed his cock into her pussy. Going on he said, “I love a tight pussy! It tells me that it’s not had too many cocks. Oh god you’re sooo tight and sooo fucking sexy.”

Michael’s balls  slapped Joni’s pussy as he fucked her, his strokes were  getting longer and faster. Both were lost in ecstasy. Michael thinking that at his age how lucky he was to get a pussy this young and Joni, thinking how wonderful it was to find a handsome older man to fill the void Owen had left. Now here they both were in ecstasy with each other. 

“Oh yeeesss, yeeesss fill me with your cum. Ooooooh god your cock feels soooo gooood. Mmmmm I love it, yes,yes fuck me good and hard, oh shit how I love to be fucked!” Joni cried as she pushed up to met him.

“OH god!, oh god!, I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” He said as he pushed hard into her, going on he said, “OH you sweet thing, I am going to fill your pussy. Aaaaaaah, mmmmmmm, yeeesss! Aaaaaaah, baby Aaaaaaah.”

Michael lay on her until his cock slid out of her pussy. She turned and kissed him saying that she had to go to the bathroom to clean up. Once back they sat on the loveseat close together and sipped on the fresh drinks that Michael made.  She snuggled close to him and he asked her to spend the night. That night they would swallow each other’s spit that came out of their clitty.

Michael took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. And kissing her deeply, he began to undress her. He marveled at the beauty of her hairless body and his spent cock twitched. She too was busy undressing him. She thought, “What a youthful body he has and so muscular.” They meshed their bodies together. Their clitties touching each other

Excitement was building inside each other. Joni reached around him and massaged his ass. It was soft and well) rounded. Michael too, reached around to grasp the pussy that he fucked some time ago.

Michael motioned to Joni to get into bed. They lay next to each other, kissing and hands roaming each other’s body. Finally Michael breaking free kissed his way down Joni’s body to her clitty. She moaned in pleasure as he took it into his warm mouth. With expertise he made love to the long slender body. He kissed the slit on the head, and ran his tongue along the slit. He tasted her precum juice, the prelude to her prize spit. A white cream each lover wanted. His mouth and tongue worked in unison to bring up the cream. Meanwhile Joni was moving around, pushing up her clitty and lost in lust for his hot mouth.

“OH sweetheart,  oh god, youuuu, oh yeeesss,  my god it’s so gooood, yeeesss,  oh god please don’t quit! Yeeesss, make her spit her juice. I love it, oh god how I love it. Yes,yeees, I am going to fill your mouth with my cuuumm.” She cried out pushing up hard.

Michael swallowed fast as each spit hit the back of his throat. He loved her taste and worked her clitty until there was no more nectar to be had. Joni had a big smile on her face. She had been thoroughly fucked and sucked tonight.

She kissed him deeply and said to him, “I know you may not get hard this early but I want to suck on you anyway, okay?”

 He nodded yes and she began to kiss her way down. Taking his cock into her mouth, she ran her tongue along each side and the head. She tasted a bit of his precum as she worked the limped object into her mouth.  She took it out of her mouth and rubbed her cheek against it. Little by little she moved her head up and down on the limp object. It wasn’t long before she realized that it was coming alive and getting hard. She kept doing things slowly until it was fully hard and then she picked up the pace.

“OH god, yeeesss Joni baby, yeeesss.  Oh you feel soo, soooo gooood. Yeeesss fuck my cock baby gurl, fuck it gooood. Oh baby I think I am going to cuuuum!”

He exploded into her mouth. She sucked and swallowed fast.she loved his taste and kept his cock in her mouth until she was sure there was no more nectar to be had. Then she moved up to rest her head on his shoulder. He turned her head and kissed her saying, “I wish you were truly my gurl.” She smiled at him and gave him a quick peck and said, “Let’s get some sleep and talk about it tomorrow.” Will tomorrow ever come?

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn’t be welcome. It hadn’t been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing. 

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike. 

“Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?”

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again. 

“I’d love that,” I wrote.

“Nice,” came the reply. “You around to talk?”

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a “yes” to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

“Hey,” I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

“Hey Luke,” he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. “What are you up to?”

“Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner.”

“I haven’t eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar.”

“I probably need to change,” I said. I was still in my workout clothes. 

“I bet you look sexy as fuck,” he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. “But take your time.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes.”

“They don’t give a fuck,” he said. “But do what you feel comfortable with.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Take an Uber,” he said. “I’ll pay.”

“OK.” Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that’s what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was. 

“OK, I’m getting in my Uber,” I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply. 

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. “I was right,” he said softly. “Sexy as fuck.”

I blushed. “I didn’t think you went for guys that way,” I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. “No labels, remember?”

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn’t going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out. 

“The steak here is great,” the man said as he handed me a menu. 

“I dunno,” I said as I looked over the option. “A burger is fine.” Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. “Get the steak,” he grunted. 

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. “Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?”

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. “Buddy, you don’t eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don’t know how nice a change that is.”

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh. 

“I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real.” His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. “I like being honest with you, too,” I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn’t realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

“Since I’m being honest,” I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order. 

“Two steaks,” Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. “And another scotch and…” he turned to me.

“An IPA?” I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order. 

“So…” Mike picked up. “Since you’re being honest…”

I lowered my voice. “It’s like I said before. You don’t need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything.”

He grinned. “There’s always trade offs,” he said. “And maybe I enjoy the control.”

“Control?” I asked dumbly. 

“If you’re paying, you get your say in a lot of things,” he said. He paused and watched me blush. “You think less of me.”

“Honesty, right? You don’t know how crushed out I am on you.”

He smiled. “I have an idea. It’s flattering.” He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. “I’m hoping you stay over tonight.”

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. “If you want, I will,” I said.

“Good,” he said, satisfied. 

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I’d eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed. 

“So, Luke… you up for me being inside you?”

I nodded, hungrily. “God yeah, Mr. Keenan.” 

He grinned. “You have much experience?” That concern coming in.

“A couple of guys, yeah,” I said. Then with deep candor, I added, “I wish you’d taken my cherry, Mike.”

His voice got husky. “I’ve done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend.”

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. “You liked it, I bet,” I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I’d have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. “Oh, yeah, buddy,” he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he’d set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. “It’s probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though.”

“I can imagine,” I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. “I bet that costs extra huh?” Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. “I don’t hire hookers, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it.” His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. “That feel OK, buddy?”

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. “Feels amazing Mr. K.” My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked. 

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. “You’re ready,” he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

“Yes, sir,” I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don’t know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go. 

“There ya go,” he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated. 

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. “That’s goddamn nice, buddy,” he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively. 

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn’t like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck. 

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. “I guess I didn’t even ask about protection,” he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

“This is perfect, Mr. K,” I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. “How do you normally like it, Luke?” he asked. 

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man’s cock pressing in and out. And I’d only had a few experiences bottoming. “Slow, I guess,” I replied. But then as I felt up the man’s naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. “But this is weird to ask… but I’d like you to show me how I like it.”

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. “Yeah?” His nostrils flared. “I can do that buddy.”

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn’t rough, but I’d never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich’s dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who’d have to work for her apartment money.

“Shit!” I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me. 

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good. 

“Well, fuck me,” he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath.  “Please tell me you liked that buddy,” he hissed. 

I felt weirdly emotional. I don’t know, it wasn’t just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. “A little too much,” I admitted.

That made him smile. 

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience. 

“I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again,” he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. “But I guess not,” he continued. 

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. “You really do like being on control, don’t you, Mike?”

My words caught him by surprise. “I guess I come on strong, huh?”

“A little,” I admitted. “I should probably go,” I said as I searched for my briefs. 

“Will it make you feel better to stay over?” he asked. 

It was my turn to be surprised. “You think I’m like a chick?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

“It’s just a question, Luke,” he replied. “I’ll give you Uber money.”

I swallowed my pride. “I’d love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief.”

He smiled. “It’s fine buddy. I’m used to game playing. But you’re a straight shooter. I like that.” Then matter of factly, he added, “I get up early.”

“That’s cool,” I said. 

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I’d never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit. 

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn’t need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all. 

Around 5:30 I got a text. “Dinner?” 

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. “I’m tied up, Mike,” I wrote. “Sorry.”

“What time you done?” came that reply.

“I don’t know. 10?”

“Come over then. You know the room number.”

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn’t. I was horny for this man. So bad. 

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn’t look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down. 

“Thanks for coming, Luke,” he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

“Sure,” I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan’s cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck. 

“Listen, Mr. K… can we talk about the money thing?”

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he’d been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. “Sure. Was it not enough?”

“No, Jesus,” I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. “I don’t need anything. For real.”

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. “You offended?” he asked.

I blushed. “I dunno,” I replied. “It didn’t make me feel great.”

I felt his breath against my neck. “You deserve the money more than Kimberly,” he said. “Or the others. It’s just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day.”

I don’t know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. “Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body,” he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face. 

“Nice,” he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. “Lose the shorts, Luke,” he said. 

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. “Come on buddy,” he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher’s squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle. 

“Fuck yeah,” Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time. 

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up. 

“Easy there, buddy,” he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. “I almost blew there.”

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn’t have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. “Why don’t you?” I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man. 

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. “Guess I’m like a kid with a new toy,” he explained. 

It took me a second to get it. “You wanna fuck me again.” Half statement, half question. 

Mike nodded. “Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight.”

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging. 

“Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?” I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. “You know, make out a little?”

My buddy’s dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. “I guess I can come on strong, huh?” he asked. 

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. “Some, yeah,” I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, “Part of me really likes it, but fuck it’s intimidating too, you know?”

Mike didn’t reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn’t kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass. 

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him. 

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. “All right buddy, get on all fours.”

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

“You got a hot fucking ass, Luke,” he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy. 

“You’re looser today, buddy,” Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

“Yeah, probably,” I responded. “After yesterday.”

“I wanna keep you this way,” came his deep voice. “Ready for me.”

“Oh fuck, Mr. K,” I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

“Fuck yeah,” Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. “Right back in the saddle.”

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. “Ung. Ungh. Ung.”

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan’s rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips. 

“FUCK!” 

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn’t gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick. 

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back. 

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn’t even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came. 

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn’t stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. “You mad at me Luke?” he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed. 

I grimaced but shook my head no. “I didn’t think I’d like sex that rough,” I said softly. 

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. “I wasn’t talking about the fuck.”

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn’t worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends. 

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. “Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don’t want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one.”

He was prepared for that. “You’re not that, Luke. But I’m not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out.” He looked at me and could tell I still didn’t get it. “Listen, it’s not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You’re a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I’ll tell ya.” He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

“I guess,” I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she’d be more work than fun. 

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. “Well, it’s just I don’t always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy.”

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more. 

He watched my reaction but continued. “I know that wouldn’t be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while.”

“Make what worth my while?” I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part. 

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. “Luke, I’m not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But…” his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. “Well, bud, I’d love an arrangement when you’re able to keep me company when I’m in DC.” His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. “I’m pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together.”

“You wanna be my sugar daddy?” I asked, point blank. It’s not that I was dumb, but I actually didn’t think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. “Would it better if we ditched the labels?” he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

“It would,” I answered. Then. “OK if I think on it, Mike?”

“Of course,” he said. 

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn’t right for that. 

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. “You’re a fine young man, Luke,” he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. “I mean that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Keenan,” I said. 

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I’d have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I’d probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I’d hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer. 

“You’ll have to let me know how it works Mr. K,” I texted. “But I’m in.”

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. “That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy.”

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

A fantasy my horny brain thought of late at night… Hope you all enjoy. 

---

Mark had been living with his roommate, Jake, for a few months now. Jake was the typical hot muscle straight jock – tall, ripped, and always surrounded by girls. Mark, on the other hand, was on the swim team and had a slim, muscled build and was far more reserved. In fact, he had a terrible secret: he was gay, and he had always admired Jake’s rugged good looks and muscular physique, though he never acted on his feelings knowing Jake was straight as an arrow. 

As the morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the messy shared apartment, Mark had already rolled out of bed and just finished his morning exercise. He shuffled into the kitchen, craving his morning snack: a ripe banana. But as he opened the fridge, his heart sank.  

His last banana was missing.  

Mark usually had a decent relationship with Jake, but the latter had a habit of eating his food without asking and after eating the leftover caviar he had gotten as a birthday present, the last few weeks had been a bit tense. Jake had promised not to touch his stuff without permission, but it seems like he had lied. 

Furious, Mark stormed into Jake’s room, not bothering to knock. 

“Hey man, did you eat my banana? You know I was saving that.” Mark asked angrily, looking around the room for any sign of it. 

Jake, who had been in the middle of a jerk off session, quickly shoved his dick under the blanket.

“Dude, knock! And I haven’t seen it, man.” 

Jake pulled the blanket closer around him and Mark noticed the distinct shape of something long and hard under the covers. Like a banana. 

“Seriously, dude? You think I’m stupid?” 

“What? No, I—“

“You know what, just give it to me.” 

Without hesitation, Mark reached out and yanked the blanket away, revealing Jake’s rock-hard, throbbing eight inch cock. Mark’s eyes widened in shock, and so did Jake’s. There was a moment of awkward silence, both frozen in place. Mark bit his lip, stuttering.

“T-that’s not my banana…” 

Mark then spotted a banana peel in the trash can across the room. Anger sparked in his chest, but then transformed into something else. Something more mischievous, dangerous, and probably stupid. He had always lusted after Jake, secretly fantasizing about what it would be like to have him. But it was about time to get payback, and maybe he could fulfill his hidden desires too.

Jake was still stunned, trying to process what had just happened, when Mark dropped to his knees in front of him. Jake’s eyes grew wider.

“W-what are you doing—” 

“You owe me a banana,” Mark said, his voice low and husky. “So I think I’ll just take this one instead.”  

Without waiting for a reply, he swallowed Jake’s cock in one swift motion. 

“Dude, what the fu–”      

Jake’s protests died on his lips as Mark’s tongue wrapped around his member, sending waves of ecstasy through his body. 

“Oh, fuckkkk!!” 

Jake gasped and moaned in a mixture of pleasure and confusion, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward as Mark expertly sucked and slobbered all over his eight-inch, rock-hard shaft. He thrust deeper into the warm mouth and soon Mark had engulfed the entire length, his long tongue swirling around the bulbous head. Jake bucked and groaned.

”Oh God, bro what the fuck… stop man, this is gay, no, oh God fuck why does it feel so good—”

Mark took his time, savoring the taste and feeling of the hot steel-like shaft in his mouth. He licked the frenulum and tongued the slit, driving Jake crazy, moaning and writhing with pleasure. Mark’s hands explored that muscled, sexy body, caressing those rock-hard clenched abs before traveling down to those full, furry large balls and squeezing them lightly to get that hot jock milk churning.

Jake could barely think straight as his hips continued to thrust into Mark’s mouth. The sensations were unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he found himself unable to hold back as his climax approached rapidly. Then all of a sudden, Mark stopped.

“B-bro, what the fuck?”

Jake sputtered, his orgasm ruined as sweat dripped off his chin.

“This is your punishment.” 

“Fuck you, man you–”

“YOU ate my caviar. My yogurt. My protein bars. My banana. You OWE me this.” 

“…Bro, I thought you were over that–”

“I will be when I’m done with this. But I’ll finish it my way.” He squeezed Jake’s throbbing dick. Jake hissed.

“Okay, okay! Fuck, man, just promise me you’ll finish me off.” 

“Oh, I will.” 

Mark smiled. In the next thirty minutes, he brought Jake to the brink, over and over again, always stopping right before he was about to cum. Jake begged him for mercy.

“Mark, please, man let me cum. I won’t touch your shit again, please. Fuckkkkk!”

Mark didn’t stop until Jake’s dickhead was bright-red, angry and twitching uncontrollably. Jake could barely even speak. Mark caressed those full, large balls again and smiled. It was time. Jake felt the throes of another orgasm reach him, and he closed his eyes, expecting Mark to stop yet again. But Mark continued to suck and slurp, tongue swirling around the painfully sensitive tip. 

“I’m g-gonna cum,” Jake gasped, trying to pull Mark off him. “BRO, I’M—“

Mark stayed firm, sucking even harder. He squeezed the balls in his hand and pushed down on Jake’s perineum, feeling a very enlarged prostate. Jake’s legs trembled, then his whole body tensed for an impossibly long second. He roared, his back arching as his fists gripped fistfuls of Mark’s hair. 

“CUMMING! FUCKKKKKKKKKKK! OHH GODDD FUCKKKKKK!” 

Jake exploded into Mark’s mouth, screaming and moaning as his muscle jock seed spurted into Mark’s endless mouth. Sweet, slightly salty, and endless thick cream burned onto Mark’s tonsils. Five shots, then ten, then fifteen. Mark swallowed every drop, eyes locked with Jake’s as he milked him completely of that protein-rich, hot jock baby batter. He didn’t stop until he was sure those balls were completely dry, squeezing them hard until Jake begged him for mercy. 

“Please, man, please I can’t-”

As the last bit of cum was sucked out, Jake panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. Mark looked at him, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he pulled away, licking his lips with a grin. 

“Next time, don’t take my banana without permission. Though this one is a pretty good replacement.” 

With that, Mark stood up and sauntered out of the room, leaving Jake in a state of shock, confusion, yet… satisfaction, along with his balls drained. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but one thing was for sure – he had just experienced the best orgasm of his life. 

 

With the temperatures scorching hot, I had no real plans to do anything today other than to stay indoors and maybe play with some of my toys and get off. I’ve had my dick locked up for 160 days straight and my level of continuous horniness is at its maximum. Knowing I am not permitted to touch myself like a real man is such a head trip. I no longer just feel like a faggot, I know I am one and I fully embrace that as my identity. I love to see the cage over my dick as I’m working over my hole.  (Maybe I should write a separate story about what it’s like going to the gym, changing in the locker room, using the sauna, and showering there with my junk all locked up. Jace still possesses the code to unlock me, and we are both committed to reach at least Labor Day.)

Back to the story of today, I was just about to get started with a smallish toy in my bum when my phone rang. I was surprised to see it was Steve. He told me he had a versatile fisting buddy coming over and invited me to join them. At first, I was hesitant as I am admittedly a very greedy bottom and do not like to share with others, especially with others  I haven’t met. Steve assured me that his friend Brent is cool, and a really nice guy, and it did not hurt that Steve sweet talked me until he got his way.

I decided to give myself an extra round of cleaning myself internally since I would be expecting some serious assplay. Afterwards, I took a couple of gummies and needed to decide on wardrobe. I rifled through my collection of jockstraps and landed on a dark blue Helsinki Athletica that I had purchased from DailyJocks quite some time ago. I also decided to wear my leather harness. Since I would be walking over to Steve’s just a few blocks. I did not wear a shirt but I did put on a kilt, white knee-high socks and a red leather strap around my bicep. 

I packed a couple of toys in my backpack along with some poppers and an extra gummy or two in the event it would be needed, and, I had half a spray bottle of max impact left so I chucked that in the bag as well.  Since it was so hot outside, I think I saw one other person on the street in my 7 minute walk. I was sweating pretty bad by the time I arrived to Steve’s place. I sniffed my right pit and inhaled. Mmmmm, it smelled musky and ripe, just as I’d hoped. 

I knew Steve would have left the door unlocked for me, and I was right. I walked inside and locked the door behind me. As I approached Steve’s bedroom, Brent was on all 4’s with Steve’s right forearm already up his backside. 

Let me describe Brent. He’s 39, a bit stocky, only 5’7”, about 165#, his ass was smooth, he  was wearing a singlet with the ass cut out. He did not notice me enter the room as his head was down on the pillow facing the other direction with his ass up in the air. 

Steve turned around and smiled when I cleared my throat to announce my arrival. He said he left me a “special someThing” on his bureau and told me to make myself comfortable as he began to pull his arm from Brent’s ass. That’s when I saw Brent’s face for the first time and realized I recognized him from the gay bar. Blondish/brown hair, blue/green eyes, stubble on his face. His eyes looked pretty glazed over as mine would soon be. I realized he was likely already too fucked up to provide me with a proper greeting, but I wasn’t offended at all. 

Steve reached behind him for a large toy, the Hilt 105 by Topped Toys, covered it in grease and easily shoved it up Brent’s ass to keep him occupied while I stripped and took up space on my stomach next to him. Steve carefully inserted the bump into my rear and for 10 minutes I watched him punch fist Brent after he removed the Hilt toy.  Watching Brent take Steve’s fist was pretty hot.

When Steve thought I was ready he told me to get on my knees and bring my ass to him. While still slow punching Brent he placed a couple of fingers inside me to see if I was ready, and believe me, between the gummies and the special T, my hole was primed.

Steve dipped his fist in the grease, having two separate tubs for each of us. I took a deep hit of poppers and passed the bottle to Brent, and we began to make out heavily as Steve had a fist in each of us. Steve is definitely a true ass man, he can’t ever get enough, and that’s why I like him! Steve’s closed left fist entered my first ring with absolutely no resistance, a very smooth entry. That initial feeling of a closed fist pushing its way inside me, his knuckles scraping on my every nerve ending, made me feel alive.  Brent and I were definitely on Cloud 9 and our lips and tongues were all over each other. There was definitely an added element to the mix with another person involved.

Steve would alter hard punches with slower, shallow punches to really open up our pussy lips, with deeper, almost elbow deep. When his hands needed a brief reprieve, he’d stuff our holes with toys. 

When Steve needed a longer break, he sat in his chair and smoked some clouds and drank some Gatorade and he told Brent to take over fisting me. Brent seemed very happy to oblige. Before he took his place behind me, Steve blew some clouds in Brent’s mouth, and Brent then blew them in mine. We did this exchange 3 times. Holy shit it was hot as fuck. I’d never done anything like that and it gave a new meaning to term “chain smoker”.

At this point my asshole was quaking to have something in it.

”Fist me, fucker!” I yelled. “”Let me see what you got!”

I put the gas mask over my face and listened to Brent lube up his fists. When the first fist entered, I hardly felt it. It was smaller than Steve’s that’s for sure. When the fumes started to take hold, I became even more aggressive and reached back to put my own fist next to Brent’s. He realized the struggle, so he pushed my hand away and I removed the mask and was floating high. Brent put his palm over his fist and I cooed.

”Do it…give me both! Fuck yeah, I want it!

I heard Steve say something like, “I told you he’s a pig. Give it to him hard, he can take it!”

Steve came over to my side and grabbed my waist and held me steady so I wouldn’t move as Brent balled his fists up and put them both inside me. I opened as wide as the Chunnel and almost assgasmed as Brent double punched my ruined cunt over and over until I needed to pull off. 

Steve kissed me and said that was truly amazing to watch. So now I had Brent squatting on his knees behind me, Steve sitting to my left. I flipped onto my back, poppered up, and Steve put his right fist inside me and left it there as Brent pushed his inside next to it. In a slow rhythm, they both began a steady movement, back and forth, ever so carefully, they would pull back to stretch my cunt entrance and push inside a little deeper, both probing my colon to snake their joined effort for me to take it down to their forearms, which I eventually did. 

When they pulled out, I saw my prolapsed rosebud in Steve’s mirror. He told me to take a break as he was gonna put Brent in the sling for a bit. I put a giant plug up my ass so it wouldn’t close as I watched Brent enjoy his own double punching. After awhile I wanted to get closer to the action so I stood behind the sling and reached for Brent’s nipples, pushing the straps of the singlet off to the side. I twisted and turned Brent’s tits like radio dials and Steve was really terrorizing his asshole. Brent grabbed his seven inch dick and began to stoke it. I was surprised to see it so hard given the chemicals in his system. Once again, I watched a real man stroke himself and I was even more turned on if that was even possible. When I leaned over to bite his left nip he shot a massive load, my cheek was struck by a warm shot of cum. I positioned myself so I could swallow the rest of Brent’s load and used my tongue to get as much as I could.

Steve pulled his fists out of Brent’s ass and we all paused to get our collective breaths until we could assist Brent’s transition from the sling to the bed. He was definitely still very high, but thankfully, still coordinated. Steve asked how I was doing and if I wanted any more. I could tell he was getting tired from satisfying two needy bottoms so I said I’d take a ride on his foot until he was ready to go again. 

Steve and Brent were now laying side by side on the bed and Brent said I could ride his foot, too, if I wanted. Of course I wanted. So I lubed up Steve’s left foot and Brent’s right and for the next 20-30 minutes I switched off stuffing my pussy with their feet. Steve was awake enough to give me some literal swift kicks in the ass which I really enjoyed. 

Steve told me to lube their forearms next. Steve and Brent clasped their hands together and formed a large fist. I took some max impact spray and the instant I felt the effects, I lowered myself down as far as I could. Somehow we ended up that I was on all 4’s while they repositioned and they jointly wrecked my cunt until I was pissing and cumming from the assgasm they had given me.  My body shook and convulsed intensely. 

We played for over 6 hours in total. By then since I’d had too much, I was getting a little pink and we decided to put a pause on our ffun. The three of us fell asleep with Brent in the middle for a few hours. When I woke up, Steve and Brent were still out so I quietly dressed and saw myself out. 

Damn, my cunt is fucking gaping and a bit sore, but it was definitely worth it. 

A Reminder of the Characters

• Michael: An effeminate 18 year old Asian-American guy with long, wavy black hair with brown eyes. Many of his classmates had confused him to be a woman.
• Eli: An 18 year old twink white guy with short blond hair and blue eyes. He is close friends with Micheal.
• Jack: A 19 year white guy who is apart of the basketball team. He has fluffy short brown hair with brown eyes, and is overall a very liked guy around school. He is friends with Damien.
• Damien: A 19 year old African-American dreadhead with brown eyes. He is a Jock apart of the football team and is well known across the school. He is friends with Jack
• Luis: An 18 year old Latino with brown hair and green eyes. He has a bad reputation throughout school, is known for his bad behavior, and his clashes with Annie from time to time.
• Annie: An 18 year old white guy with medium length brown hair (some parts are dyed purple) and brown eyes. He is friends with a lot of people at school, but is known to not like Luis

---

Michael’s POV

I was in a room looking aroun- well, to be honest, I wasn’t looking around. I mean, no matter what I do, I kinda knew that there was no way I was getting out of here. I just knew that escaping wasn’t an answer unless we fulfill whoever put us here wishes. As I was thinking, I could feel somebody walking towards me. Their presence felt familiar, but it still scared me deeply.

“WHO GOES THERE???”

I freak out over who was behind me, only to find out it was my best friend, Eli.

End of POV

Michael: Oh I am so sorry Eli!

Eli: Oh don’t worry! You’re good. I’m also just as scared being here as you are.

Michael: Tell me about it! Especially after reading both of those cards…

Eli shared a look of sympathy with Micheal as he frowns as he processes what is going to happen.

Michael (taking a deep breath): Eli, my friend, these cards, they can feel heavy, can’t they?

Eli nods, his expression etched with empathy. He reaches out his hand, offering a comforting squeeze.

Eli: Indeed, Michael, they can weigh upon us, threatening to consume us from within. But, remember, we have each other. We’re in this together.

Eli reaches out towards Michael and gives him a comforting hug. It seems that they are really about calming each other down.

Michael: So… wanna check what our cards say?

While Michael and Eli started to chat, in another room, Luis, idly perusing the room with restless curiosity, peeks beneath a pile of forgotten items and spies the tell-tale card, forgotten and eager to reveal its scandalous contents.

Luis, unknowingly treading upon treacherous ground, approaches Damien with the misplaced card clutched in his hand. Damien’s eyes narrow, his lips twisting into a grimace as his resentment seethes beneath the surface.

Luis: Hey, Damien, I found something… something that belongs to you. It’s a secret I wasn’t meant to stumble upon.

Damien’s body tenses up, his fists clenching as a tempest of emotions whirls within him. His voice, with a hint of bitterness, slices through the air

Damien (spiteful and defensive): Who do you think you are?! Invading my privacy like that! Can’t you find satisfaction in your own life without poking into mine?

Luis, caught off guard by Damien’s defensive outburst, feels his patience snap like a tautly wound wire. Without the anchor of friendship, his response drips with disdain and a pinch of superiority.

Luis (snapping back): Oh, spare me, Damien. As if I care about your precious secrets. I stumbled upon them by accident, and trust me, they’re hardly worth the effort of keeping a secret.

Damien, his expression shifting from defensive to a mix of outrage and surprise, raises an eyebrow, unwilling to tolerate Luis’s dismissive attitude.

Damien (gritting his teeth): You were the one snooping around, Luis, digging into matters that were none of your damn business.

The barbs fly back and forth, laced with an acerbic bite and an insinuation of hidden desires lingering beneath the surface. This encounter seethes with animosity, a byproduct of their tumultuous connection.

Luis (mocking): Go ahead, play the victim. You’ve always excelled at that, Damien. But don’t for a moment think that your secrets make you interesting. They’re just pathetic attempts to validate your sorry existence.

Damien, incensed by Luis’s belittling tone, leans in closer, their faces locked in a dangerous dance of disdain and provocative tension.

Damien (spitting his words): Interesting coming from someone who enjoys prying into other people’s lives, reveling in their insecurities, and using them as fuel for your own twisted satisfaction.

Luis, fueled by frustration and unable to contain his anger, releases his pent-up emotions in a fit of scorching words aimed squarely at Damien. The air crackles with tension as he raises his voice, unburdening himself of the weight he carries.

Luis (exhaling sharply): “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Damien! It’s so clear, isn’t it? All you have to do is fuck that Michael already. Trust me, that faggot is probably sitting there, praying for you to finally make a move.

His words hang heavy in the air, packing a punch. In this moment, Luis strips away the facade of society, drenching his voice in bitter frustration and pushing the boundaries of acceptable dialogues. Damien does not like what Luis said in the slightest.

Damien: That’s enough, get the fuck out of here!

Damien rushes at Luis and forcefully shoves Luis out the room. Luis puts up a fight, but at the end of it all, Damien was successful in rushing Luis outside of the room he was in.

Damien, seething with anger and feeling the weight of Luis’ disrespectful words, finds themselves wrestling with the intensity of the exchange. The sharp remarks continue to resonate in their mind, intensifying the flame of frustration burning within.

Damien (with frustration): Seriously? Luis really crossed a line there.

While the irritation lingers, Damien’s resolve remains unyielding. Now everybody knows what his task is. Shit, shit, shit! Damien would take this anger and frustration and turn it into determination to fulfill his task. They swiftly open the drawer, their hand aiming to retrieve the camera with an unwavering determination. As their fingers wrap around the device, a moment of realization dawns upon them. Damien notices the absence of the maid dress, a key element in their plans.

Damien (curious): Hmm. That’s odd. Seems like the maid dress is missing.

Though slightly perplexed by the dress’s absence, Damien’s focus shifts quickly. He then remembers that he read Michael’s card. That’s probably where it is! Damien, still grappling with nervous anticipation, cautiously moves to the room where Michael had sought refuge. Momentarily taken aback, Damien freezes at the sight that awaits him.

There stands Michael, bashfully adorned in the very maid dress that had vanished just moments ago. Damien’s breath hitches, their eyes widening with a curious mix of surprise and delight. The air in the room thickens with an awkward energy.

Damien (stammering): “Uh, Michael! I wasn’t… I didn’t expect to see you like this. I mean, in that. The maid dress… it’s, um, on you.”

Michael’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, their eyes flickering between Damien’s surprised gaze and the floor.

Michael: Damien, you saw my card, you knew I had to do this…

Damien looks down as he knows that Michael was telling the truth. Damien shifts uncomfortably, feeling their nerves twisting in their stomach as they and Michael acknowledge the shared secret between them. They had known that their desires were connected, but confronting it so soon came as a pleasant yet nerve-wracking surprise.

Damien (nervously): So, uh, about my card… You already know what went down with Luis, right?

Michael waves a hand dismissively, a kind smile gracing their lips, understanding written across their face.

Michael: No need to say it out loud. I’m on the same page, Damien.

An awkward silence ensues as the weight of their undisclosed intentions hangs thick in the air, catching them off guard with its urgency. Michael breaks the silence, their curiosity reflecting in their eyes.

Michael: Hey, what’s up with the camera?

Damien fidgets, twirling the camera in their hand, their gaze shifting nervously.

Damien (nervously): The camera? It’s part of my task too. It asks me to capture everything.

Michael shifts uneasily, their eyes averting Damien’s intense gaze. Doubt and hesitation cloud their features as they reluctantly bring up the subject of setting up the camera.

Michael (hesitant): Damien, I… I know it’s part of your task, but… I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with this. The idea of filming our most intimate moments feels… invasive, doesn’t it?

Damien, mirroring Michael’s unease, sighs deeply. Their shoulders droop as they reluctantly acknowledge the weight of the situation.

Damien (hesitant): You’re right, Michael. It feels like invading our own privacy, like we’re giving up a part of ourselves. But this card I’ve been assigned… it leaves me no choice.

A melancholic air hangs heavy between them, as if the weight of their newfound predicament taints the very space they occupy.

Silently, Damien takes out the camera, their movements slow and deliberate. They set it up on a nearby surface without meeting Michael’s gaze, the air filled with a hushed resignation.

Michael watches Damien’s actions, their heart heavy with conflicted emotions. In that moment, they feel a deep yearning to reach out, to comfort, but words fail them. Damien starts to inch towards Michael as they both position themselves in front of the camera. Damien starts to fondle Michael as his lips trail along the curves of Michael’s forehead, leaving a trail of soft, butterfly kisses. His touch is tender and affectionate, a testament to the deep connection and intimacy they share. With each gentle brush of their lips, whispers of unspoken promises dance upon the air, synchronizing their desires and affirming their love.

Damien’s eyes darkening with desire as he gazes upon Michael, who stands there, clad in that alluring maid dress. Slowly, Damien steps closer, his fingers trembling with anticipation. With a wicked grin, he seductively runs his hands up Michael’s thighs, feeling the heat radiate from his body. As if in a tantalizing dance, Damien’s touch moves beneath the fabric, savoring the responsive shivers that quake through Michael’s body. Inch by inch, he caresses and teases, his fingers inching upwards beneath the dress. Adrenaline courses through their veins as he delicately pulls down the lacy panties, revealing Michael’s dick. As the fabric slips down Michael’s thighs, the forbidden desire intensifies, and a sigh of pleasure escapes their lips. The enticing view leaves them both breathless, allowing their connection to deepen as forbidden sensations become their playground.

As Damien starts to unbutton his pants, Michael hastily stops him.

Michael: Wait! Damien…

Damien: Is everything alright dude?

Michael: Can you please get the lube from the drawer? I’m a little nervous… that it may hurt.

Damien reaches for a bottle of premium lube, his touch on the sleek container emanating a thirst for unrestrained pleasure. The liquid promises a heightened experience, its smooth texture inviting exploration.

Damien graciously applies the lube onto his fingers. His gaze locks with Michael as he applies even more directly onto Michael’s asshole.

Damien (fumbling with the bottle): Oops, sorry, a little slippery… Here, um, let me, uh, apply it…

Damien gently starts to finger Micheal’s hole. The cool glide of his slick fingers sends shivers coursing through Michael’s body, an intimate connection forged in the heat of carnal desire.

Michael (blushing, nervously): Yeah, I mean, if you want to… but, uh, let’s keep it… low-key, you know? I don’t want anyone in the next room hearing us…!

Damien (nervous chuckle): Oh, absolutely, Michael. We must be discreet… very discreet.

With trembling hands, Damien delicately positions himself, preparing for this intimate endeavor. As he carefully slides his lubed fingers towards their intended destination, little whimpers of pleasure escape Michael’s lips, his face reddening in embarrassment.

Michael (whispering): Oh…, I didn’t mean to make a sound… I’m sorry if I’m ruining the mood!

Damien (reassuringly): “No, no, Michael, shh! It’s okay! Don’t worry…

As he finishes fingering Michael, he then unbuttons his pants and exposes his own dick. He takes the bottle of lube and starts to squeeze it onto his own cock and starts to spread it down his shaft. Michael looks at the scene flustered as Damien’s 7 inch hard dick was now lubed up.

Micheal: Dude, how is that supposed to fit in me?

Damien: Don’t worry…. I’ll go slow.

They both shift into position as they are both preparing themself for what is about to happen.

Damien: I’m ready to put it in, Michael.

Michael: Okay, please be gentle with me…

Damien grabs his hard cock and start to position it in front of Michael’s hole. As Michael starts to quiver from the feeling of Damien’s tip, Damien slowly pushes himself into Michael. Michael emits a loud moan and the grip he held onto Damien tightened. Damien would put his hand over Michael’s mouth as they both widened their eyes.

Damien (in a loud whisper): Dude! The others are going to hear us!

Michael: Sorry, it’s my first time.

The 2 began to rock together as Damien started to go deeper into him. The grip Michael has with Damien would only get tighter and tighter as Damien went deeper and deeper. Finally, what felt like forever, Damien was fully inserted into Michael.

Damien: Is everything good?

Michael (nervously): I think so, you can continue…

And so Damien’s continues to slowly fuck him. As Damien’s hips guide his engorged length back and forth into Michael’s quivering depths, the room fills with an air of hushed anticipation. Each deliberate motion sets their bodies ablaze, igniting a cacophony of pleasure that reverberates in their souls.

The room is cast in a dimly-lit glow, allowing shadows to play across their entangled forms. Michael’s body trembles from the hypnotizing rhythm, his lips parting in a soft exhale, causing his voice to escape as a tender moan.

Michael (his voice a seductive yet humiliated whisper): “Mmm… Damien…”

Damien’s eyes lock with Michael’s, each shared glance fueling the desire that courses through them. With every calculated thrust, he delves deeper into Michael’s ass, as the grip Michael has on Damien gets even tighter than before .

With each unhurried movement, their bodies become one, the heat between them intensifying within the duet of breathy sounds that echo softly throughout the room. Michael’s moans, muted by the circumstance, linger in the air, a beguiling melody that stirs Damien’s lust even more.

Damien (his voice laced with desire): Y-you’re so tight, Michael~

Michael’s face is plastered in embarrassment as his virginity is being taken away.

Michael (in attempt to return a compliment): You’re s-so big dude…

A mixture of pride and satisfaction flickers across Damien’s face. This confidence boost was enough to get him to thrust faster into Michael. With each forceful thrust, Damien navigates the depths of Michael’s being, his movements guided by an unyielding determination to claim every inch. The rhythm intensifies, their bodies moving as one in a euphoric symphony of passion.

Michael arches his back, his moans escaping his lips in a symphony of pleasure. As Damien delves deeper, his expert control entwines with the sweet surrender of Michael’s body, eliciting an even more intense and primal response.

Michael (voice cascading with ecstasy): Oh, Damien… more, please… I need you deeper… give me everything!

Damien’s eyes darken with desire, fueled by the tantalizing melody of Michael’s unabashed moans. The sounds echo throughout the room, mingling with the intoxicating scent of their raw desire.

Driven by Michael’s fervent plea, Damien picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and more relentless. Pleasure surges through Michael’s veins, his body responding in perfect synchrony, each sensation amplifying the chorus of his moans.

As Damien’s movements become a symphony of insatiable desire, Michael’s cries of pleasure grow louder, bolder with each intoxicating collision of their bodies. His incomparable response fuels Damien’s hunger, urging him to drive into Michael with even more urgency.

Unable to contain his pleasure, Michael’s moans cascade through the air, a testament to the delight he finds in their consummation. Lips parting, he begs for more, his voice thick with an unrestrained yearning for ecstasy.

Michael (voice laden with desire): Oh, Damien… fuck me harder, please!

Their connection deepens, their bodies forging an irresistible bond as desire intertwines with dominant control. The room becomes a sanctuary of unleashed passions, the culmination of moans and gasps echoing in symphony.

Michael’s voice quivers with desire as he utters his fervent plea, his quickly escalating excitement intermingled with the warmth spreading beneath the maid dress he wears.

Michael (breathlessly): Oh, Damien… cum inside me… fill me up… I want to feel every last drop…

Damien’s thrusts become more urgent, his own pleasure coursing through his veins. The sheer sight of Michael in the enticing maid dress, overcome by ecstasy, spurs him further towards release.

Damien (gruffly, overcome with desire): Fuck, Michael… You look so incredible… I’m gonna cum!

Their bodies move with an increasing desperation, the culmination of their desires building with each thrust. The air thickens with the scent of their intoxicating chemistry intermingling with uncontrollable lust.

As their climax nears its apex, their moans merge into a symphony of passion, a harmony of delight, and whispered promises of ecstasy.

Michael’s voice, filled with longing and abandoned inhibition, rises in crescendo despite his hidden attire.

Michael (pleadingly): Oh god… I’m going to cum too!

In that final moment of unspoken understanding, their bodies quake and shudder, overcome by the consuming waves of pleasure. Michael’s own release joins Damien’s as they embrace the climax of their shared journey. Their voices meld in a potent uproar, overflowing with the bliss that engulfs them. Pleasure spirals within them, painting their bodies in an undeniable shared veneer of ultimate satiation. With an eager hand, Damien reaches out, his fingertips grazing the trembling delicacy of Michael’s exposed posterior. Slowly, carefully, he guides his hand to gently spread open those flushed and quivering cheeks, opening a visual vortex into the aftermath of their passions.

There, between those exposed delectable globes, a sight to behold unfolds. Beads of lustrous, opalescent cum glisten enticingly, pooling at the quivering entrance of Michael’s ass. As he looks at the inside of Micheal’s skirt, he can see where Micheal’s cum had landed.

Damien (grinning): You’re such a dirty little slut Michael.

It has been a lonely long journey and besides being just tired, I’m so horny. I have stopped at the last three rest stops hoping to satisfy my being so horny, but as I leave the parking lot of strike three I see a billboard advertising that may satisfy my needs. The billboard was advertising for one of those picky adult porn stores, but the small line about video viewing got my attention. It was two exits away and I stomped on the gas.

As I drove down the exit ramp there were a couple of young men hitching a ride, I decided if they were still there when I came back I would give them a ride. The almost empty mall parking lot was just ahead as I turned into it, I found a space to the side of the ABS and made sure I had cash and condoms, like a Boy Scout, I was prepared. I entered the small store and was looking at the bondage, dildos and porn mags/videos when I was greeted by a deep sweet voice offering to help me. I smiled and asked about the video review booths and how it worked, the sexy good looking clerk smiled back and told me that I paid up front a fee  for joining their club and I could add money if needed at the booth level if needed. They told me every booth had limitless selection and genre to choose from and asked would it be cash, or credit for my membership. After asking if there was any advantage, which I received a truthful reply “the cash advantage was only good for the owner”, I gave them my card and received my pin and receipt. I was asked if I wanted a demonstration of how to get started with a big sexy smile, which I declined and headed into the back.

I could hear some movies playing and even though the parking lot was empty I knew I had company back here. I found a booth down back next to one that sounded as if it was in use and entered closing and latching the door. Whom ever was in the booth next door increased the volume indicating to me I was making noise. I read the instructions punched in my pin and the room went dark as the monitor lit up with gay porn. I watched the guy getting his ass fucked for a few minutes and then started reading the pin pad screen as how to maneuver through the process. The clerk had me hard and found myself scrolling within the trans world genre for a title, “My First Dress Up” title caught my eye and I started watching this very pretty feminine boy getting ready for a night out. I thought it was starting to slow.

I was getting to start scrolling again when I heard the volume next door go lower and voices as their door opened and closed. I now started to eavesdrop on what was going on, while watching this big dicked trans getting dressed, but not until they played with that huge cock first. One of the voices I heard was from the clerk and I didn’t hear it long before hearing “yes baby, that’s how Daddy likes it”. I had my pants down and my cock stroking slowly as I licked the pre-cum from my finger tips. Both the noises from my neighbors and this movie were getting interesting, when I almost fell over as another hand touched and wrapped around my cock. I looked down and was pleasantly surprised to see a glory hole between our walls and that someone had initiative. I looked down, but could only see the arm that appeared connected to the clerk as I suspected and could hear the moans of the other person that I assume was have their cock sucked. I lightly rubbed the arm acknowledging my approval and got a big squeeze in return. My movie was getting better as this person now was dressed very seductively and walking into a dance club, they looked so damn sexy and hot and my mind was interrupted by a large door bell. And like that my hand job was back to self serve and what sounded like a great blow job was done. My suspicions were correct and the bell was telling everyone that someone entered the store.

I quickly decided that before my neighbor turned his volume back up, I would offer my services. I grew up and was trained on my knees in places like this and I always loved sucking a cock, having my ass fucked, or rimmed through a glory hole back then, while the technology has changed and now with prosthetic knees knowing how to suck a cock was the easy part. I whispered through the hole that I would love to take over from where the clerk left off, which didn’t take any decision as he pushed his cock through at my face. I got comfortable on my knees and started rubbing his cock as it hardened in my hand I could see it was about 7” and thick with a nice fat circumcised cock head. The voice told me he could stroke it himself, that I needed to do like the other guy was doing. I wasted not another minute and took his cock into my mouth and throat as it grew erect. He must have been close, because he was oozing a lot of juices and pumping his cock face fucking me through the hole. My memory was triggered and I could remember some of my early adventures and long hours at the booths of the adult zone of Boston. I must have been a big hit because of my obvious age, but slightly feminine build and appearance. The first time I visited was with a much older man, but after being asked about my age, some dollars being exchanged I was never asked again and school was in session.

This cock was pounding the back of my throat and I would gag a little every once in awhile, but I didn’t have to work much, just suck and roll my tongue around his cock head while listening to him moan. I thought back to those first times as Danny would cruise me around the rows of booths making sure I was seen and then take me into one with a glory hole and feed tokens as we watched hetero porn. He watched the porn, I was on my knees between his thighs licking and sucking his fat cock. It was long, maybe 4-5”, but fat uncut he loved for me to suck and lick his forskin. As soon as someone would step into the booth next door and had me move my face to that hole. I would suck sometimes 6-7 cocks before he would pick me up and suck my cock. Once I would cum he would have me suck more cock and finish him off. Sometimes I would leave with him, but other times he realized I wanted to stay and he would leave me on my knees. I was snapped from my memory as I heard a loud groan and felt my mouth being filled with the sperm from a total stranger. He kept pumping his cock and I kept sucking and swallowing until I had a soft cock in my mouth and just a little clean up left. He pulled his cock from my mouth and was gone, no thank you, or any exchange. Not that I was expecting any of that, because I had swallowed so many anonymous cocks and cum, I knew he enjoyed it.

I went back to watching my movie and the star with his 11”+ cock was pumping in and out of an ass hole that was very nice as it was being stretched open and closed from the different girths of his big cock length and they were loving it. I thought back my first fucking and remembered Danny had me wearing very short shorts and no underwear and after the stroll letting everyone know we had arrived we found a booth with a glory hole available. The usual I was on my knees working his what I would deem now as a pathetic cock, but working him like the seasoned cock sucker I had become. As He watched his porn, I worked on his cock, but soon felt a hand rubbing my ass trying to get under my short pant leg, so I shifted over some and allowed the access they wanted and for the first time I felt my tight ass pucker being rubbed and I liked it. Danny asked if I liked and with a mouthful of his cock, I smiled and moaned. He then reached down and unbuttoned my shorts pushing them down to the floor and pushing my butt closer. I stepped out of my shorts and laid them next to Danny and was met with the pressure of someone’s thick digits pushing into me and I almost screamed. Danny knocked on the wall and said to take it easy, I was virgin as he pushed my head down onto his cock. The person took the hint and I now felt a couple of wet fingers now rubbing my hole and after time became used to one being pushed in as he fingered my hole and I was hooked. 

I wanted more and Danny knew this as he shifted closer in his seat allowing my ass to get right up to the hole. After I knew I was being fingered with two fingers I felt a wet mouth against my hole and a tongue darting in and out it felt amazing and Danny was loving watching me get rimmed for the first time. This tongue working amazing things on my tight virgin ass hole had me working Danny’s cock in my mouth like I never had before and we were both moaning. I could now feel that the tongue was being exchanged for his cock, while my hole was all slick he was very gentle as he slowly pushed his cock into me. I looked up at Danny while his cock in my mouth, but he was busy watching a cock sliding into my boy cunt. I was in heaven this cock felt long and thick and my ass hole expanding around it as he entered amazed me, how could it fit, how could it feel so amazing and how can I get more of this. Needless to say I started cumming on the floor in front of me, and Danny filled my mouth just as I felt the man’s throbbing cock pumping his sperm deep into my ass canal. It felt like it was over before it began and I was disappointed and dissatisfied with what I knew could be so much more.

Again my memory was interrupted as another man entered into the neighboring booth and without any discussion pushed his cock through the hole between us. I got on my knees again and thinking about being fucked, I hungrily swallowed this cock in front of me. I stopped briefly and asked if they would rather a warm ass hole instead of a wet mouth and they pulled back saying sure. I quickly dropped my pants and turned pushing my what was once a tight boy cunt against the hole. There was no wet tongue, no fore play of fingers just a probably 8” cock pushed in until they were balls deep and pumping away. Fortunately for me my man cunt was gapping, but handling this fast fuck without difficulty and again without warning I could feel his sperm filling my canal. They pulled out and left, leaving me to clean up. When I was leaving the shop was closing and the clerk asked if I would give him a ride and he had a couple of friends outside that also could use one. I saw it was those two guys from earlier and I agreed. I was actually hoping it might end up like the movie I was watching and went outside to wait.

As I entered my hotel suite in Pensacola, Florida, there was a message on the middle of the television screen stating, “Welcome Sean Callahan” and to the left was an on-screen directory of hotel services.  Fancy!  I dropped my bags and ran around the top level suite exploring the spacious and intricate layout, offering a distinct separation between the sleeping and living areas.  I had booked a regular room, but was given an upgrade since all the regular rooms were occupied.  I book a room almost a year ago once some of my on-line friends and I decided to attend Pensacon.  Pensacon is an all-inclusive pop culture convention for the fan community, spanning the genres of comics, anime, sci-fi, horror, gaming, and fantasy.

I am obsessed with superhero’s, especially Power Rangers.  Power Rangers was a popular television show that I watch during my childhood.  It was a team of youths recruited and trained by a mentor to morph into the eponymous Power Rangers, able to use special powers and pilot immense assault machines, called Zords, to overcome the periodic antagonists.  When “morphed,” the rangers are wearing color-coded skin-tight spandex suits and helmets with opaque visors; identical except in individual rangers’ color, helmet design, and minor styling such as incorporating a skirt for the ladies.

While attending college, I joined a Power Rangers Group on Facebook and connected with people who have similar interests.  Eventually, a subgroup was established with myself and four other ranger fans (college students consisting of two men and two ladies).  A friendship grew and we decided to attend Pensacon and dress as members of the first Power Rangers entry known as the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.  I chose to be the blue ranger.  One the ladies said it was a great choice since the royal blue would go well with my burnt orange hair and deep blue eyes.

I took a quick shower and began getting dress in my costume.  First, I slipped on a royal blue pouch thong that was sent to me by one of my ranger friends.  He bought corresponding colors for all the guys to wear under their spandex suits.  He said all the guys needed to wear these undergarments in order to keep our junks tight and avoid unsightly underwear lines.  It is risqué underwear that I would have never had purchased for myself.  I hated the feel of the string of the thong between my ass cheeks.  I hated the see-through fabric.  I looked in the mirror and blushed.  I am self-conscious about my appearance and seeing myself only wearing this bulge enhancing thong was overwhelming.  I have an average length penis, but a large penis girth with a huge mushroom tip.  Also, I have large shell-pink testicles which meant when I was younger; I had greater sperm production and higher levels of testosterone which brought with it a whole host of other side effects; acne, stunted growth, and weight gain.  Even though I now have perfectly clear alabaster skin, a 28” waist, tone body, and broad shoulders; I still see myself as the chunky, pizza face, red-headed kid with a constant hard-on.

I suited up.  The spandex hugged every nook and cranny.  Now I see the need for the constricting undergarment.  Due to having lesser material, it enhanced my bulge and provided a flattering silhouette.  I slipped on my white wide calf boots.  I finished fixing my short shaggy hair, grabbed my helmet and headed to the lobby.  I had an hour before meeting up with everyone at the entrance of the Pensacola Bay Center, an indoor arena, where Pensacon is being held.

It was amazing to see all the people dressed in costumes in the lobby.  I felt I was among my people.  Sailor Moon, Cleopatra, Xena the Warrior Princess and many other sexy women in cosplay costumes.  I could feel the blood rush to my nether regions.  

Suddenly, I was approached by a tall Asian man.  He was dressed in jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and cowboy boots; all in black.  He had thick salt and pepper slick back hair.  He said, “Excuse me.  My name is Archie Lee, a Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Cast Director.  Yesterday, we had a casting call for a new superhero film which will be produced by Marvel Studios.  I wished you had audition because you would have been perfect for one of the supporting roles in the film.  Do you have a minute to talk?”  I stuttered, “Me?  What?  Be in a movie?  Me?  Sorry.  I mean, sure, I like to know more.”  

Archie asked me to join him at the hotel bar.  Archie ordered a double scotch and soda for the both of us.  I never tried hard liquor but didn’t want to offend him by not accepting his hospitality.  As we drank, he explained the casting call was for small roles for a new X-Men film.  The part he thought I was perfect is for a character known as Banshee.  Banshee, an Irish mutant, possesses a “sonic scream”, capable of harming enemies’ auditory systems and causing physical vibrations.  He is named after the banshee, a legendary female spirit from Irish mythology, said to possess a haunting cry.  Archie said I had the right look with my red hair, chiseled face, and lean muscular physique to play the part.  It was the first time that a stranger complimented me for my physical appearance and I was filled with gratitude.  I explained that I was flattered, but I was not an actor.  Archie said that being a trained actor was not a prerequisite since this dramatic role had no speaking parts.  He explained in the film, various X-Men’s villains including Mystique, Stryfe and Rogue teams up with the plan to capture members of the X-Men and their superhero associates and rob them of their superpowers.  Rogue is depicted as a mutant, a subspecies of humans born with an “X-gene” that grants superhuman abilities.  She is capable of absorbing the life force, attributes, memories, and superpowers of anyone through physical touch.  Most of the few scenes in the film including Banshee will be him in restraints and most importantly, gagged; so he can’t use his “sonic scream” awaiting Rouge to rob him of his superpower.  The good news is that this movie may lead to a spin-off movie featuring Banshee.

I told Archie that I was interested.  He explained that he was the only remaining casting crew in the area.  Archie could at least conduct an initial audition by taking some photos, get some biographical information and have me sign some standard forms.  It would take less than thirty minutes.  Archie will share the photos and information with the casting team when they meet in a couple of days to discuss casting options.  If chosen for consideration, Marvel Studios would make arrangements for me to travel to Burbank, California for a second audition.  Without hesitation, I agreed to an initial audition.  Archie brought his glass up to his lips and suggested we chug our drinks down.  I did and nearly choked.

Archie asked for my room number since he would have to retrieve his camera, props for the photos, and forms from his rental car.  He needed to depart the hotel shortly thereafter in order to arrive at the airport at least an hour before his flight departs; so they would have to rush through the audition.  I gave him the room number and headed to my suite.

I simply can’t believe it!  What if I am cast in a major motion picture?  Me!  A twenty-year-old nobody from a small town in Mississippi reared by poor Southern Baptist parents.  I’m the first one of my family to go to college.   I am paying my college tuition with money I make at a minimum wage job.  What will my family, friends, and work associates at Wal-Mart think of me when they see me on the big screen?  I need this!  I don’t want to work forever at Wal-Mart.  I want to be famous.  I want to be desired by women and envied by men.  I don’t know if I am just tipsy, but I was feeling euphoric.  I wanted to ignore my inner voice that was telling me that something was not right; not safe.  Maybe, I should pray.

There was a knock at the door.  I opened it and Archie entered with a large roller bag.  He removed his leather jacket and threw it on the sofa in the living area.  His biceps seemed as big as my waist.  I decided to make small talk and asked about his job.  Archie said it was a funny story.  He actually is an emergency physician.  He met his wife in med school and they had two children.  His wife has a successful dermatology clinic and spa and one of her clients is an executive with Marvel Studios.  A friendship developed between this executive, her spouse, Archie and his wife.  As a joke, he told the executive he would love to work in the movie industry.  She offered him a job as a casting director.  He still works in an ER a couple times a month, but his current job gives him better hours, more pay, and extra time with his family.

I felt comfortable with Archie.  He is a physician and devoted family man.  He pulled out a camera and said he would start with some headshots and then some of my full body.  As he started clicking away, he began directing me in how I should pose.  Archie began looking at the digital photos and said they simply would not work.  He showed me the photos and said the close-ups of my face were perfect, but the head to toe photos were not great due to the costume I was wearing and the poor lighting in the room.  Archie said it was a prerequisite in the cast call the previous day that the men could strip down to shorts or swim suit.  He explained that the superhero costumes are unforgiving and the cast chosen have to have the right physical makeup.  He said, “If you get the part to play Banshee, you will be wearing a form-fitting green suit with a yellow triangle in front that will become a high collar in the back.  You will be wearing matching tight yellow gloves and boots.  The signature of this costume though is the black and yellow winglike stripes, connecting the arms to the hips.  So your torso, arms, legs and buttocks have to be right.  He remarked, that he could tell I have the right body type, but these photos didn’t depict reality.  I apologized and said I didn’t pack shorts or swim trunks.  Archie said, “Wait.  Are you wearing underwear.  If so, that will work.  I just can’t photograph you in the nude.”  I gave an affirmative nod.  He said, “Great.  Strip quickly.  Our time is running out.”  I said, “OK.  But, well, it’s not normal underwear.  I was told I had to wear this…this…this…well, like a g-string, I guess.  I can put on boxers if you want.”  Archie said, “What you have on now will be fine.  As long as your privates are covered, we are good.  Hurry on now”

I kicked off my boots, unzipped the costume and removed the garment.  As I stood there, in the string briefs, I began losing courage or confidence.  This is a disconcerting experience.  The tiniest amount of fabric is the only thing keeping me from being nude in front of another male…something that is unnerving for me.  The pouch is giving me a noticeable bulge…the fabric is clinging to my gentleman’s package…holding tight to everything around it..showing off every bit of what I got…especially noticeable is the outline of my corona…the rounded and projecting border that forms at the base of my glans penis…the tip of my penis.  The narrow strip of fabric at the back…leaving my buttocks exposed…is so uncomfortable…feeling like my bum cheeks are trying to swallow the piece of string…causing me to want to un-pick myself.  My hands went directly in front to cover my crotch.  

Archie looked me over and said, “Fantastic!  You have great waist to hip ratio, waist to shoulder ratio, height and ring finger to index finger ratio.  I surprised he mention my height since I am only 5’7”.  Archie explained the stars of the film are less than 6” and it would look weird if I was taller than the actors playing the main X-Men roles.  He asked how I achieved my “lean with hard, toned muscle body?”  I admitted that I worked out almost daily for a year so I would look decent in the Power Ranger costume.  Archie said, “Good job!  You should be proud of your accomplishment.”

Archie then pulled out of his luggage a unique black leather armbinder device.  He said it was a prototype of the restraint that will be used in the movie to bind Banshee’s arms and hands behind his back.  The one that will be used in the film will look like steel.  It suppose to keep Banshee vulnerable to any evil torment the villains in the film might want to inflict.   Archie went behind me and said, “I’ll just need to fasten the arm straps around your biceps and then cross your forearms in the cuff above your waist.  There is a buckle in each bicep cuff and three locking buckles in the large forearms cuff which I will have to secure.  All the straps are adjustable so it will take a minute to get you fitted.”  I allowed him to pull my arms behind my back and he began fastening the straps.  I felt so little and awkward as he towered behind me.  He was so tall and broad.  His booted foot was resting on the side of one of my bare feet.  Damn!  Are those like size twelve?  I made a mental note that my next purchase would be boots, like those.  Easily it will make me a couple of inches taller.  Pointed toe and black with a high-gloss coating.  It sounded so manly as Archie walked around, especially the clacking noise the heels of the boots made when he walked across the tiled floor in the kitchenette.  Something in my nether regions stirred.  I guess it is my obsession with men’s shoes.  I mean, I like loafers, wingtips, boots…not like erotically interested…well, maybe.   A little bit of clear, colorless, viscous fluid emitted from my urethra.  I looked down and saw a single shiny droplet of dew that had escaped the thin fabric of the thong.  Is it pee since I’m nervous…is it an all-natural lubricant that is usually generated when aroused?  It is the latter…wearing spicy underwear crafted to ignite passion…the sensation of another person’s touch…anticipation of accidentally being touched in an erogenous zones…an area of my body with a high concentration of nerve endings that can lead to sexual pleasure.  I was afraid Archie would notice the clear, mucus-like liquid resting on my fabric-covered penis tip.  Instinctively, I wanted to swab off the moisture, but my hands were fastened behind my back.

As he worked, he proudly reported he came up with the idea of this “bondage arm muff.”  He designed it to hold Banshee’s arms in a folded position behind his back.  I could feel him fasten and readjust the three straps on the muff to ensure my forearms were secured together.  Next, he attached a leather cuff around each upper arm.  Each bicep cuff had attached straps that buckled together, just below my rhomboid muscles, in the middle of my upper back.  Then both parts were joined together via two buckles located just above the top of the arm muff.  Archie made many adjustments to the buckles…making the straps tighter…immobilizing my arms.  I felt manhandled as he pushed and shoved me around while securing me in the kink gear.  Once all of the components were fixed in place, he asked if get out of the device.  Of course, I knew I could not, but I tried…I pulled…I twisted.  I was thankful I was flexible and could comfortably wear this prototype of the restraints that will be used in the movies.  Luckily, the lining was made from soft lambskin which was lightly padded and quilted.  Archie commented that there was an additional D-ring on the body of the muff which is conveniently placed for attaching other restraints.  Other restraints?  Damn!  The penis dew that had formed is now a little bit of dripping liquid.  I prayed it would hit the floor before Archie sees it.

Next, he grabbed a box from his luggage and pulled out of it what looked like a red ball attached to a mouth guard with black strapped dangling down.  Archie said, he could not take credit for this since it was purchased off the Internet.  He read from the box, “The Tongue Trapper Gag is the pinnacle of silencing apparel.  You will not find a gag that is more mouth filling and effective than this item.  Specially designed to entirely fill the mouth and create a cavity for the tongue to be slotted into, rendering the wearer even more helpless.  You will be amazed at just how effective this item is.  This gag is specifically designed out of a squishier silicone called TPE that will almost mold into your mouth for an extremely full and satisfying feeling.  The Darlex strap is perfect for wearing for a long time, it has a great deal of stretch to it and is very soft to the touch.  This allows for several things: if you are looking for an extremely comfortable gag to wear, this item will not chafe in the corners of your mouth like other rougher gags.  On the flip side, if you are looking to pull a gag tighter than you’ve ever pulled a gag before, this item is also your friend.  Because of the stretch of the material the strap is made of, it can snug up to a very strict level.”  Did Archie buy this in one of those sex shops…one with a back room filled with BDSM supplies?  I said, “Is it a necessity that I wear that gag in the photos?  I mean, the gag and this thing binding my arms are bordering on perversion.”  Archie said it was necessary since part of rendering Banshee helpless was taking away his ability to emit his “sonic scream.”  He chuckled and commented that he could not believe I used a word like “perversion” since this is how the character will be betrayed in a PG-13 movie.  Before I could protest any further, he placed the tip of the gag to my lips.  As he instructed, I inserted my tongue in the cavity and he forced the gag in my mouth.  He maneuvered my lips over the the end of what looked like a mouth guard.  My lips encircle the ball of the gag.  The gag buckled in the back by using a side release buckle, which made it easy for Archie to both secure and tighten the gag.  “Mmmmuufff.”  Fudge!  Why did he have to make it so tight?  I said, “Archie, please loosen the strap.  Could we just take the photos?  Quickly?  I am a little freaked out with…well…being bound…I mean…with what little clothing I have on…it has gotten a little weird.  Archie heard, “uhhh eee mmmm eee uuummm mmuuuff uuu.”  Archie laughed and said, “Dude.  Sorry.  I couldn’t understand anything you said.  The gagger really works.”

Archie then stood in front of me and said that he now he “gets it.”  He could see how seeing an attractive man in bondage would be sexually stimulating.  Did he just say I am attractive?  Oh.  Oh.  I just had an another accidental discharge of pre-seminal fluid.  I instinctively looked down to assess the accidental discharge and when I looked back at Archie; I caught him starring straight at the moist stained pouch of my g-string.  His expression his face was like a smile…with a slight raising of one corner of his upper lip…like a sneering look.

Archie returned to his luggage as he looked for something.  I became strangely uncomfortable.  I would be ashamed for anyone to know of my predicament, since it was too stupid to be believed.  I am bound, gagged, and wearing a sheer thong.  I have an uncontrollable weepy dick.  The arm binder was making my chest bow out causing me to stick out my ass in order to keep my balance.  I looked down to see that my bell end of my penis position forward as if was pointing at Archie.  I kept reminding myself that he is a trained physician who has seen thousands of nude or semi-nude men.  He probably is not phased by the copious amount of clear mucoid fluid staining my undergarment.  No big deal.  If this is what it takes to be a movie star, then I will have to just power through.

Archie pulled out some hemp rope and said, “This will do.  I need to tie your ankles together.  This is where it may be beneficial for additional clothing since the rope is almost the color of your skin.”  He looked over and saw my discarded clothes on the floor in the bedroom that I wore on the flight to Pensacola.  He found my dirty, royal blue thick and thin over the calf socks.  He announced, “These will work nicely.”  One at a time, he had me lift my legs behind me and slipped on the socks.  Archie said, “These are some fancy socks.  Probably cost you a pretty penny.  They look good and almost a perfect match for your banana hammock.”  As he straightened the seams of the socks and stretched the fabric to get out the wrinkles, I felt a dribble of more pre-juice ooze from my urethra opening.  Why do I keep leaking so much?  Please.  Please.  Please.  Stop touching me.  Stop talking about my socks.  I have this weird fetish for men’s vintage dress socks, like they wear in the Mad Men television series.  Every chance I get, I wear fashionable clothes and wear such dress socks.  It sort of inspires me to become a successful businessman…wearing a suit every weekday…beautiful leather dress shoes…fancy dress socks…unique dress socks such as bright colors, smooth silky sheer fabric, and/or thick-and-thin stitching.  These are are my current favorites.  They are Stacy Adams Men’s Silky Rib Crew Dress Socks.  The socks are only sheer with ribs from the ankle up and the foot section is reinforced in the heal and toes for maximum support and longevity.  The nylon band is made of lycra and spandex which ensures the socks stay up all day with no sock slippage.  The thought that Archie also may share in my obsession and the fact he seems to be admiring them through touch and his breathing seemed heavier, gives me the impression the socks were turning him on.  He continued kneading my calves and kept talking about the socks with using words like, “elegant”, “lustrous”, and “fine.”

This is all wrong.  I want to be released.  I wished I could speak.  I mean I tried, but since my mouth is stuffed, it sounded like sex moans that I make when I pleasure myself.  I can’t believe I got myself in this situation.  I had not noticed that Archie had formed a ring around my ankles with the double up hemp rope and pulled the loose ends through the loop at the end of rope which caused me to move my feet to be pulled together.  He wrapped the rope around a couple of times, separated the ends, and he held each end of the rope in each of his hands.  He passed the right end over then under the rope in his left hand.  Archie then passed the rope end in his left hand over then under the one in his right.  He tightened by pulling both running ends at the same time and then tied the ends in knots.  Way too tight!  It was if I was wearing handcuffs on my ankles.  All the time my socked feet were being bound, I would feel Archie’s warm breath on my bare ass.  

Archie began rambling, “Rope is a common material used to restrain someone in movies and televion shows.  They may also use duct tape, leather cuffs, chord, zip ties, neckties, and other tools of restraint, but rope is more rustic and romantic.  Rope calls to mind of lost boys, like Peter Pan who you could play in a movie, getting captured by horny pirates and tied to the mast — and all the wonderful scenarios that follow…the scene in Arsenic and Old Lace when Cary Grant’s character is bound and gagged just after he said, ‘He sits there waiting to be tied up and gagged.’…not to mention the numerous times Robin was tied up with rope in the Batman television series – well, let’s just say there were a lot of missed opportunities.”  The entire time he was talking, he was gently caressing the rope tied taut around my ankles.  Why was he talking so much about his fascination of rope…bondage…horny pirates…helpless people…specifically, males being tied up?   More clear, mucus-like liquid oozed from the tip of my penis and dampened the fabric of the thong around my penis tip.  I looked down at the knots securing my ankles.  Easily I can untie the knots, if I had the use of my fingers.

Archie stood up and walked across the living area to retrieve his camera.  He was about 15’ from where I was standing.  He pointed the camera in my direction looked in the lens.  He expressed his concerned that I was too close to the window and the natural light was washing me out.  Archie suggested I stand in the middle of the living area for better photo results.  Damn it.  That means I will have to hop.  Archie seemed impatient and said, “Hurry up.  I don’t have all day.”  I complied and bounced on the balls of my feet to the center of the room.  I felt the heavy pouch of my thong bobbled with each bounce.  I could hear noise what I would describe as moist smacking due to the slippery prejuice.  Ffffffuuuuuccckkkk!  The friction between the exceptional softness of the thong and the skin of my private parts as I bounced caused me to get semi-erect.  I looked down and could see the waistband was not snug around my waist.  I could also see my freshly manscaped pubs.  Archie noticed that my thong was now wonky and he asked me to adjust my underwear.  All I could do was look at him with an inquisitive look.  He laughed and said he forgot I had no use of my hands so he would make the adjustments.  Archie walked back to where I was standing and used his hand to push my fabric covered semi-erect penis pointed up and laid flatter against my mons pubis area and then he jostled my testicles.  As if he could read my mind…wondering why his fingertips lingered…up and down the base of my dick…circling my ball sack..he laughed and said not worry since he was a professional.   He said he had to ensure no skin of my privates and pubic hair were visible.  Once he was satisfied that everything was contained in the pouch of the thong, he used the pad of his thumb to remove any trace of glistening droplets I had left behind on the undergarment and simply wiped his thumb clean on his jeans.  Did that just happen?  I just got touched…I mean, he rubbed his thumb across my tip…my sensitive piss hole…causing my external urethra meatus to open…dipping in…finding more clear sticky liquid in my manhood.  I did nothing to stop it from happening.  Well…what could I have done?  I mean I was incapable of stopping him.  It was so weird to feel his hands touch me like that with only of the thinnest of fabric keeping it from being skin-to-skin contact.  I looked over at him as he was fiddling with his camera and could see the wet spot on his jeans.  Oh shit!  Did he just stick the pad of his thumb in his mouth?  Doesn’t he remember that it was just used to transfer my precum from the thong to his jeans?  He didn’t seem to either noticed or care that his thumb probably tasted salty.  Why am I hard!?!  My spidy-sense…what I call my an enhanced sixth sense that warns me of impending danger…what manifests as a tingling sensation…was giving me a prickling feeling all over my skin…like pins and needles…which would usually allow me to react quickly…avoid harm…but, I was incapable to react…unable to escape. 

Archie began taking photos.  He said, “OK.  Look as if you are angry.”  I did my best scowl by changing my facial expression in which I brought my eyebrows together and wrinkled my forehead to indicate displeasure.  Next he said, “Try to free yourself at the same time of using your superhero power, I mean the sonic scream.”  I tried to pull my hands free while attempting to yell.  “Mmmuuup.”  I barely made a sound.  The gag was effective especially since it immobilized my tongue.  It was as if it lessened the air flow up from my lungs and practically paralyzed my vocal cords.  Archie said, “Photos are looking good.  You know, you sort of look like the actor who played Bubba in the 1980’s comedy series called Mama’s Family.  Not as tall and you’re more muscular, but you look like him in the face.  Ok.  For the final photos, I need you to looked like you just realized you are the dumbest fucker ever since you let some random guy trick you into being bound and gagged for the purpose of sexually abusing you.”  What?  Is he joking?  He’s a doctor.  A husband?  A father?  Wait.  Was it all a lie?  Wait.  What does he mean by sexually abusing?  Archie, if that is his real name, grabbed a large knife out of the drawer in the kitchenette area.  He said, “Don’t make me use this.” 

Archie was taken it all in.  Sean was wiggling and bouncing in a vain attempt to escape.  Making grunting noises…beautiful fucking low, short guttural sounds.  He went from erect to semi-erect due to fear, but it is just a matter of time before he is hard again.  All that ground up Viarga I snuck in his liquor will be in full effect after an hour when he ingested the drug and all that blood will be flowing to his tube steak.  It is part of the experience.  Sean will be hard and confused why he has a boner.  It will also look better in the photos and video that I will keep as souvenirs along with those sexy over-the-calf dress socks.

Archie was again victorious in tricking some comic geek into letting him restrain them.  He finds most of his victims at these all-inclusive pop culture conventions.  Archie always amazes himself how quickly he can come up with a plausible story for a reason to trust him to put them in bondage gear.  For Archie, it is mostly about the power and control.  In reality, he has not accomplished much in life.  High school drop out, living pay check to pay check, unsuccessful relationships, and on and on.  But kidnapping young male studs and using them as inanimate objects toward whom his sexual energy can be directed made him feel like a god.  Weird, huh?  He rather be in intimate relationships with women, but his fantasies involve raping cute little male geeks.  Those little shits who are more successful…educated…straight.  He came to the conclusion that this is the population that would be less likely to report they were victims of an unlawful sexual activity and intercourse carried out forcibly while being incapable of giving valid consent because of being restrained, drugged, and/or unconsciousness in comparison to more masculine males…athletes…blue-collar workers.

Sean is his greatest prize.  He is so sexy.  That compact little body, bubble butt, chisel face, practically hairless body, and that red hair!  Copper mahogany?  I always had a thing for gingers!  Also, his big old package!  In those bounceable bulge high-waisted thong bikini underwear.  What the fuck!  This schmuck has no ideal how sexy he is and what a gift to have those beautiful jewels.  I almost creamed in my pants when he stripped down and seeing him in that g-string cling shit.  I mean, the sheer fabric is being stretched to the limit and I can see every detail of that tube steak and spicy meatballs.  I am going to eat good tonight!  I can even see that he has just a small patch of pubic hair.  Good news!  The carpet matches the drapes.  I can’t wait to make this little cute leprechaun endure some cock and ball torture.  Look at him dripping.  I think he is a little excited.

Archie walked over.  Sean looked at him with his big sad puppy eyes and began grunting.  Poor thing is unable to form any words.  The gag was the best $80 that I have ever spent.  No way will anyone be able to hear his barely audible screams.  Not to mention, how lucky I am that he has this nice suite on the top floor and the separate bedroom and bathroom are located on the corner of the hotel; so, these rooms do not sharing walls with other rooms occupied by other hotel guest.  In a minute, I will turn on the televisions in the living area and bedroom to help drown any possible noises that are made as I am having my fun with my little defenseless toy.  

Archie grabbed the top of my thick hair and pulled backwards; forcing me to make eye contact with him.  “Mmuuufff.”  My bare rump was pressed against one of his thighs.  He is so tall and strong.  He has a weapon.  What am I going to do?  There is no way to free my arms which are kept securely folded in the middle of my back.  I’m hobbled so I can’t run away.  I already know I can’t yell for help.  How stupid am I?  Why did I not trust my initial instincts that this guy was no good?  I guess my judgement was clouded with the hopes to be rich and famous; not to mention slightly drunk.  What are his intentions with me?  Ransom?  My family doesn’t have any money.  Is he going to use that 8-inch slicing knife to cut out my organs and sell them on the black market?  Then I felt his hand down my torso and he lightly squeezed my penis crown.  Oh no.  Archie was not kidding.  He is going to sexually abuse me.  I think I would rather he cut out my organs.  “You’ll never get away with this,” I attempted to growl into the gag, but the bemused smile of my captor told me that he didn’t understand my garbled muted words.

As Archie squeezed Sean’s sausage noggin, he could not help but be amazed at the size and how it was so squishy.  The silky fabric allowed his fingers to glide effortlessly over his crotch so he could trace every bulging vein of Sean’s fuck dick and feel the smoothness of his plum satchel.  He was getting a rush from seeing the fear in Sean’s piercing blue eyes, his flushed rosy cheeks, since it just became evident that he was simply a sexual object for me to enjoy and he no choice in the matter.  I bet no one, much less a man, had ever touched his dick.  Yep.  Getting hard.  I bet he hates it.  I bet he thinks he can will himself from having an erection.  No such luck, buddy.  It is all about the friction.  Not to mention his system is full of an erectile dysfunction medication.  Archie began become a little more aggressive with his caressing.  Whoa!  More dick tears.  Let me get a handful.  As I grabbed his entire basket area and squeezed, I felt the intense steamy heat of his loins.  Sean’s entire package was about the size of a softball.  Tears swelled up in Sean’s eyes and began rolling down his cheek.  He was shaking like a leaf.  Leaking eyes and cock.  Hot!  I reached under and began slapping lightly under his undercarriage of his manbuldge.  Archie was enjoying the sight of his captive’s buldge bouncing around.  His own dick was rock hard.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.  “Sean!  It’s Tim.  Are you in there?’  Archie froze with one hand still in my hair and the other was gripping my groin.  Without hestitation, I yelled, “Help me!  Help me!  Call the police!  I am being held hostage!  He is going to rape and kill me!”  Muuuffffff.   Muuuffffff.  Barely audible.  Damn it.  If I could only hop to the door, but Archie had a death grip on my balls.

Archie had not plan that anyone would be looking for Sean.  Shit!  The motherfucker got a little ballsy and thought he scream for help.  However, there would be no way Sean could be heard.  Archie could barely hear the scream which sounded like, “hum hum aaahh aah muuumm eeee.”  He just knew Sean was doing his best since he face turned beat red and his veins in his neck were bulging since the gag was not allowing any air or much noise escape from around the gag.  Archie quickly twirled Sean around to face him, bent over and hoisted Sean on his shoulder.  He rapidly carried Sean with a tight, secure grip on his left ass cheek into the bedroom.  He closed the door as quietly as possible.  Archie then threw Sean onto his back on the bed.  To the left was a partially opened mirrored sliding closet door with a white terrycloth robe hanging inside.  Archie grabbed the sash from the robe, flipped Sean over, bent his legs backwards, passed one end of sash between Sean’s bound ankles and the other end of sash was pulled under and then over the arm muff restraint through a D-ring, pulled tight, and then tied the two ends in a quick granny knot.  Archie left Sean in a hogtie position as he closed the bedroom door and headed to the door.  He looked through the peephole and saw young people in different color costumes with one, I assume Tim, knocking on the door.  Next I saw him fiddle with his phone and then I heard the ringing of a phone in the living area.  I quickly grabbed the phone and made my way back inside the bedroom.  I closed the door and hoped they did not hear me running around or the ringing of the phone.  I looked at the phone and saw the incoming call was from a guy named Tim and the image on the screen looked like the guy knocking on the door.  Handsome.  In an ideal world, Tim would also be his victim.  The things he could do with two helpless boys.  It dawned to Archie that Sean must be part of a group.  Damn!  I have an idea.  After the phone stopped ringing, I shoved the phone towards Sean’s face which unlocked the phone.  I found Tim’s contact information and began composing a text message.  He wrote, “Hey Tim.  Couldn’t answer the phone since I am in the ER.  Just found out that I have COVID.  I am fine.  Just have to isolate myself for a couple of days.  So sorry.”  Tim text back, “No need to apologize.  We will miss you at the convention.  Text me if you need anything.”  Archie felt a wave of relief.  Crisis adverted.

Archie looked over at Sean.  He was trying to get himself free.  Archie was happy Sean was struggling since it was a definite turn on.  Those tease muscles in his arms, back, legs….damn!  Cute little fucker.  Being hogtied suited him.  His glutes and calve muscles looked great as he struggled to get free.  Look at those little stocking feet just flopping around.  Size 8s?  Maybe 9s.  I reached over and took a foot in each hand and began massaging Sean’s soles with my thumbs.  I could smell a faint odor which is best described as vanilla, patchouli, leather and sweat.  The deep massaging caused his toes to curl toward me.  It was a clear invitation to suck some toes.  

Sean felt defeated.  He can’t believe his friends were just on the other side of the door.  Why did they leave?  Who was Archie messaging to on my phone?  He was amazed how easily Archie just picked him up and threw him around like a rag doll.  He is very strong.  Sean sized him up while Archie was texting on the phone. He had to be about 6’5”.  Everything about him seemed big.  Hands, shoulders, feet and….oh no….crotch.  The outline of his genitalia is visible through clothing.  I tried to reach for the knots in the sash that was securing my limbs together and rope binding my ankles.  No such luck.  Could not get either of my hands close to the knots.  Wait.  What is he doing?  Tim is getting on the bed behind me.  He…he…is caressing my feet.  I looked to my left and realized there was mirrored sliding closet doors.  Oh no!

The reflection in the mirror was horrifying.  I had a flashback to an incident that happened when I was in my early teens.  My dad’s much younger brother, Ray, lived with us for a short time and one evening when it was just the two of us, we watched a Batman marathon staring Adam West and Burt Ward.  Since it was just the two of us, we were relaxing in our t-shirts and boxers.  Uncle Ray asked if I wanted to role play a scene in which I would be Robin and he would play the Joker.  (Of interest, Uncle Ray was the spitting image of Burt Ward, but a little more husky.)  Why not?  It was a Friday night and I had nothing to do.  He left the living room and returned with some rope.  He told me to lie on my tummy on the floor and put my hands behind my back.  He tied my wrist together and then with a separate piece of rope, he tie my crossed ankles.  With a third piece, wrapped a piece of rope under my bound wrist to my bound ankles, pulled the ends tight causing my knees to spread, and then tied off the rope.  My bound wrist and ankles hovered about six inches above my buttocks.  I was rendered immobile and helpless.  I remember the warmth and tingling I felt all over my body.  I was hogtied, similar to way I am bound now.  Uncle Ray tried to imitate Joker’s voice and said he was going to tickle me until I laugh myself to death.  He tickled me all over including my feet, sides and even my taint area…accidentally brushing his fingers along the sides of my ball sack…causing my cremaster muscle to draw my balls up to avoid the touching.  I yelled for him to stop…I mean he knows a guy’s balls are ridiculously sensitive…he has them too.  Uncle Ray said I was making too much noise.  He left the room and returned with a pair of athletic tube socks which were knotted together at the toes of the socks.  It did not register with me the reason he tied his socks at the toes together until the knot was shoved in my mouth and then tied tightly in the back of my head.  Scumbag!  It was his dirty socks that he wore all that day.  It tasted and smelled like dirty feet.  He resumed the tickling…focusing on my gooch area…tracing his pointer light along the ridge between my anus and testicles.  Since I was moving around…he accident touched my poop hole…maybe even poked it when I arched my hips back.  Was it an accident or was he trying to finger me?  I wish that before he he gagged me, I specifically told him to untie me…stop touching me in my private areas.   “Mmmuufff….uuumm…eeee.”  Of course, my pleading was muffled.  

I don’t know why….I guess because I was going through puberty, but I got my first erection.  Well…not the first time I got hard, but this felt different…sexually arousing.   Again, I tried to beg him to stop because I was getting a weird feeling all over.  I yelled as loud as I could, while still laughing, “Stop touching my balls…ass…me!  Untie me or I will tell Dad“.  Uncle Ray heard, “Mmmuufff….uuumm…eeee.….uuumm…eeee.”  Uncle Ray either could not understand my muffled pleas or didn’t take me seriously…I guess because I was laughing hard or he thought I was just playing the role.  He said, “What you gonna do, Boy Wonder?  You’re powerless to stop me.  No way you can get yourself free.  What?  What did you say?  You want more?  Yea!  I found your tickle spot…the part of you body that is particularly sensitive to touch and is easily tickled.”  With that being said, he aggressively caressing the bottoms of my testicles…where the coiled tube know epididymis is located…the tube that stores and matures sperm…stoking my anus…making my poop hole pucker up…actually feeling highly pleasurable.  The vigorous tickling was incorporate elements of sadomasochism…straddling the line between pleasure and discomfort. 

I knew that because of my struggling, my penis had slipped out of the fly of my boxers.  I was fearful he would turn me over and get an eyeful.  As my dick was getting a carpet burn, I felt a sudden hot flash, my eyes rolled back in my head, my body started convulsing and I made a creepy moaning sound.  My balls began throbbing from within and tighten up.  Then, I felt a very pleasurable pumping feeling, which was caused by muscle contractions in my genital area.  Uncle Ray rolled me over on my side.  I looked down and looked at my exposed penis…looking so different…my bellhead looking bigger…dark red…my vertical eye staring back at me…my base throbbing…looking more veiny.  Ooohhh.   Oooohhh.  What is happening…to me…to my cock and balls?  It felt like a building-up of higher and higher ecstatic vibrations that continue and continues to reach higher and higher vibrations.  I was in what I would call an orgasmic state.  Then I ejaculated a cupful amount of cum; some landed on Uncle Ray’s thigh.  My heart was pounding, my mind went completely blank and I’m not aware of anything around me.  My cum smelt strong….like seawater and baking soda.  I felt relaxed and sleepy and once I grasp what just happened; I was mortified.  Unable to cover my exposed cock with my hands…unable to jump up and run away…unable to say anything like an apology.

Uncle Ray immediately untied me, removed the sock gag, allowed me to roll back over, and he started rubbing my back.  He asked if I was OK.  I told him I needed water so he ran off to get me some.  I remembered I ran to my bedroom, changed in a fresh pair of boxers and rushed back to the living room with a wash cloth in my hand to clean up my mess.  As I entered, Uncle Ray was on his knees in only his boxer shorts and he was cleaning my dick milk with his t-shirt.  Uncle Ray simply said, “Dude.  You just pissed a little.  Not your fault.  I shouldn’t have tickled you that much.”  He knew it wasn’t piss.  I was so thankful that he didn’t make this a big deal.  Since then, when I ejaculated, I would think of my Uncle Ray.  When someone tickles me, like what Archie is doing to me, I have flashbacks to that evening with Uncle Ray…the duality of tickling, uniquely poised between enjoyment and unease.

Now, being hogtied by a sexual predator, being touched, now causes me to think that Uncle Ray may have known what he was doing and intentionally made me cum.  I bet he kept his t-shirt for a  souvenir.  Maybe he was grooming me…to be victim of sexual abuse.  Why am I getting hard thinking about Uncle Ray…tying me up in a chair…edging me…over and over…tying me eagle spread on my bed…facedown…my mouth gagged with the exact gag in my mouth now…mounting me…raping me…feeling his cock inside me…cumming in me…leaving me only to be found by my father…my father telling me that it’s OK….he starts stripping off his clothes and shoes…telling me he needs relief from a hard day at work…he starts fingering my loose cum-drenched boy pussy…I’m screaming for help…no one can hear me…he climbs between my spread legs…he is telling me that he will deposit his seed in me, just like he did in my mother’s vagina that made me…and…and.  What is Archie doing now?   Is he shrimping me?  Oh.  Oh.  Oooooohhh.  I closed my eyes and in my mind, I was back in my living room and it was Uncle Ray sucking on my toes.  My dick was fully erect and pulsating.  Oh please….not again.  I looked in the mirror and could see Archie sucking my toes and nibbling my soles.  I was right.  He has a weird sock fetish like me.

Archie got off the bed and went to get some goodies from his bag.  He returned with a portable spreader bar, a stainless steel locking mounted CBT scrotum cuff with bar, and a power drill and screws in a large heavy weight plastic bag  He said, “Now, I need to find a stud for my stud.”  He began tapping to the left on a large blank wall in the bedroom.  

Archie had a plan to display his trophy.  The first few taps sounded hollow and then suddenly, the sound was muffled.  Archie found the stud.  He screwed the base of scrotum cuff with two screws about 26” from the floor.  Archie pulled on the bar as hard as he could, and it did not bulge.  At the end of the 10” bar was the 1.35” inches in diameter ball stretcher.  Archie couldn’t wait to get his fuckboy in a compromising position with this mountable ball-stretcher.  Archie mumble, “He’ll be humiliated as I clamp this metal ring around his scrotum and leave him locked up for my pleasure.”

What the heck has Archie screwed into the wall?   Why does he look so pleased with himself?  Archie approached me and untied the terrycloth sash.  He then began fiddling with a long pole with leather restraints attached on the ends.  Archie untied my ankles.  He then reached up to my waist, grabbed the waistband of my thong and slowly pulled them down my legs.  Shit!  Knowing I had no coverage for my privates made me felt like had no sense of modesty left.  Archie made me spread my legs and attached the leather cuffs around each ankle.  The cuffs were snug.  I could feel a cool breeze between my opened out ass cheeks.  Archie said, “Hum.  What do I see?  Oh yea.  A nice ruby starfruit.”  Instinctively I tried to move my feet together and clinch my asscheeks in order to protect my exposed rectum, but the restraint attached to my ankles prevented this from happening.  

Archie climbed between Sean’s legs and pulled his ass cheeks further apart.  Ah!  A glistening young anus.  I immediately shoved my face between Sean’s meaty glutes which he flexed to try and prevent me from getting a taste.  I had Sean pinned since my legs were on top of the spreader bar and I had a hold on the bondage muff.  I could hear a muffled, long, high-pitched cry as my tongue licked and try to penetrate his tight pink dime.  Warm!  Delicious!  Diminutive in size.  I will enjoy fucking his tight candy hole.  Archie raised up and proceeded to spank Sean’s ass with his fingers together and a bit of a cupped palm…alternating between the right cheek and left cheek…each smack delivering a deeper blow.  He loved the satisfying noise upon impact.  He loved how Sean’s round, firm ass jiggled when smacked.

Sean could not believe what was happening to him.  This guy is mentally insane.  Who would ever put their mouth where poop completes its journey through the digestive tract and makes it exit?  I tried to buck him off, but I could hardly move since Archie was holding me down with a lot of force.  I felt tingling in my testicles each time he took a lick.  His tongue was moist and was an effective lubricant as it allowed him to French kiss my booty hole.  It seemed so…titillating.  “Mmmmuummm.”  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  I am fully erect.  What the fuck?  He is spanking me now?  I haven’t been spanked in years…only by my father when I was a bad boy.  I had a flash back to my last spanking…my father telling me drop my pants…he bent me over his knee…he pulled my underwear down…warmed up my butt by rubbing it in large circular motions…then the whacking…feeling the sharp stings.  Am I a bad boy?  Why do I like it?

Archie again spread Sean’s ass cheeks and admired the perky rosebud.  The friction from all that licking had caused the sensitive tissues around the anus to swell.  He blew a kiss and gradually buried his face in hostage’s crack…sniffing the manly odor.  Archie loves rimming and being rimmed.  Sean was struggling in vain…he will have to endure the tickling as Archie’s facial stubble rubbed against Sean’s hairless crevasse…forced to experience the stimulating of his anus and surrounding areas with my mouth and tongue….nibbling…darting my reluctant lover’s pucker hole…yea, he is loosening up…here we go…Sean is getting some tongue-in-ass action…if he likes it or not.  Archie took great pleasure in the taste of Sean’s turd-chopper.  He took great pleasure in tossing Sean’s salad.  He took even greater pleasure knowing Sean was incapable of protecting his vulnerable back door.

Archie got off the bed.  He then started dragging Sean off the bed and helped him stand.  It was awkward since his legs were spread wide due to the spreader bar.  Once Sean was standing, Archie turned him around to face him.  Archie could not be more pleased.  Sean is a beautiful specimen.  He had a swimmers build with the smallest waist that Archie had ever seen.  He had well defined legs with shapely calves. But that junk!  Shit.  His man berries were fat, taut and wide.  Hairless and pink.  Sean’s johnson was nice and stumpy!   I mean, it looks like it might be slightly larger in length for his body size, but he had an unusually thick girth and a disproportionally large penis helmet.  I knew he had a jughead when he was wearing only those punk panties, but I thought he was fully erect and the pouch of the underwear was just emphasizing his junk.  No!  If anything, that t-back was a confining garb.  I felt liquid squeeze out my own dick and looked down to see a stain form on my tight fitting jeans.  I have never been this aroused.

I lifted Sean, carried him a few feet and slammed his back against the wall.  Sean’s balls were directly above the stainless steel CBT stretcher.  With an allen wrench, I unscrewed two screws of the stretcher.  Once it was opened, I pulled Sean’s testicles down as much as I could.  Due to the mass of each testies, it left very little play in his sack.  Once I got the mass of his balls past the opened stretcher, I closed it quickly and began screwing back the screws.  He won’t be able to escape this smooth ball stretcher.  Once I was done, I began putting my power drill and screws back into the large heavy weight plastic bag.  Wait!  This clear poly bag might be fun to use…a little erotic asphyxiation…seal it around Sean’s head…restrict his oxygen….for the purpose of sexual arousal.  Wait.  What if I kill him by accident?  Wait!  I can stage it to look as if he did it to himself…intentionally restricting oxygen to his own brain by putting the bag over his head…sealing it around his neck with duct tape…tying his ankles with rope before sealing the bag and handcuffing himself after…lost of consciousness before setting himself free…couldn’t get the key in the key hole…found with evidence of having orgasmed prior to death.  Another victim of autoerotic asphyxiation…the tragic death of a gasper.  Yea.  I’ll keep the bag out and give this some more thought.

There I was, secured to the wall due the non-removable base and no possible way I would slip my sack out of the enclosed metal ring.  My testicles are engorged below the metal stretcher, possibly with semen or blood since the tightness of the cuff may be affecting blood flow.  Regardless, they look swollen and purple.  Archie is just staring at me as if I was a mounted trophy.  He walked over and began touching my chest.  His hands were callused but surprisingly, felt tender.  Archie began rolling my nipples between his thumb and index finger.  I heard myself make a noise like, “huuupphh” since it was a sensation I had never experienced.  It was sending nerve impulses to my penis and the sponge-like tissue started filling up with blood.  My penis is now fully erect.  Archie seemed pleased that he forced me to get hard and reached down and gripped the base of my cock.  I shook my head and tried to plea with my eyes for him to stop, but it did no good.  He said, “Just relax and enjoy.  Your little buddy seems to be enjoying itself.”  He then lowered his head and began flicking my right nipple with his tongue.  It caused it to become puffy and then he began lightly nibbling.  It was similar to that of direct genital stimulation.  After a few minutes, he then turned his attention to my left swollen nipple,.  Next thing I knew, Archie was on his knees.  He began kissing and tonging my mushroom tip.   Archie said, “Yea.  Taste the rainbow.”  He then had the head of my penis in his mouth…he slid only his tongue up the underside of my shaft…then he used just the tip of his tongue to swirl it all around the thin, elastic membrane that connects the underside of my foreskin to the glans penis…my “V spot”…which is a sensitive pleasure spot…finally, he commenced buzzing.  As much as I hated to admit it, it felt amazing.  I guess since Archie is a man, making him familiar with the anatomy and physiology of male genitalia, this is how he knows how to provide targeted stimulation that can feel more satisfying — more stimulating and exciting.  Shit!  What do I know…this is my first knob job.  I kept reminding myself that I was not gay.  I’m finally getting some head.  That is why I’m hard…my cock was throbbing…pre-ejaculatory fluid was discharging from my willy…I was tingling all over.  Any guy would enjoy a hummer.  At least I think that is what it is called.  I have never been with anyone sexually and I hated to think my first time was with a homosexual deviant.  His mouth began softly moving up and down my shaft.  He had reached up and began massaging my nipples again.  He made all kinds of slurping and gagging noises.  I was powerless in stopping Archie from sucking my dick, twisting my nipples and fondling my stretched ballsac.  He can keep me like this for as long as he desires and do whatever he pleases.  I was getting lightheaded and it was difficult to catch my breath.  I think I am going to cum.  I could feel my penis to begin to twitch inside his warm mouth.  Suddenly, he removed his mouth; leaving me on the edge.  My little guy was pulsating…a signal the start of an orgasm…fuck…it was a dry pulsation…meaning that the pulsation was too weak and wasn’t produce any penis pudding…it needed more stimulation…I’m so closed to the point of no return.  I started begging him to finish me off, but I realized that the gag was preventing me from asking him not to stop.  I looked down and was brought back to reality.  He looked up at me with the most evil grin and then began popping my bound testicles with his hands.  The pain was intense and I would do nothing but stand there and endure the discomfort.

Archie needed a break.  I wanted to take my time with Sean, but things were happening too fast.  A drink would be nice.  I took a step back to get a good look at my at my handsome hostage.  His thick beautiful veiny cock reminded me of an urban myth believed by my ancestors that pale soulless guys with red hair tend to pack allot of sausage.  I began nuzzling the crook of his neck.  Hhhuuuummm.  He smelled good, like a combination of cypress, sandalwood, and a dash of citrus.  I reached down and again began caressing his smooth tightly stretched nut sack.  He loved the size and the heat of Sean’s manberries.  I whispered, “I’ve got you by the balls.”   It was both a literal and figurative statement.  He was in my complete control.  I continued, “I’ll be back.  I want you to have some time to think about your predicament.  When I return, we’re gonna have some more fun.  Well, more me than you.”  

I turned on both TVs, went though his wallet and found the room key, closed the bedroom door, and exited the suite.  On the first floor was a bar.  I found an empty stool and ordered a beer.  As I was trying to enjoy my alcoholic beverage and reminiscing in the events in the past couple of hours, I noticed a lady ogling me.  “Not today, sister.  Not today.”, I thought.  

Sean heard the door of the suite closed.  He had to try to get away.  He tried to pull his arms out of the bondage cuff, but he realized it was impossible.  The cuff encircled his forearms and there was no way to break the locked buckles.  Not to mention that the attached biceps cuffs prevented me using my upper body strength.  I looked down and assessed the devices keeping my legs spread and securing my balls to the wall.  Again, I realized it would be impossible to escape.  The cuffs attached to the spreader bar could easily be unbuckled if I had the use of my hands, but since I don’t; I will have to continue to stand with my legs apart.  It was strangely erotic that my feet and calves looked sexy in the dress socks.  As I flexed my feet and wiggled my toes, I felt some precum dripping from my chubby.  My poor imprisoned balls.  The scrotum enclosure was about the same diameter as a half dollar coin and each testes was probably twice the diameter.  It would be like trying to pass golf ball through a straw.  Due to the fixed nature of this device, care needed be taken to avoid injury.  I decided to try again to scream for help.  “Help me!  Help me!  I am bound and gagged!  Call the police!  The guy who kidnap me has been molesting me!  He is coming back and may try to violate me.  I mean rape!  Butt sex!”  The barely auricle noise I was making, “huuumm  hhuummm aahhhhh uuummmm uuutt exxx” was drown out by the volume of the TVs.  I am truly at Archie’s mercy.  A steady stream of clear, colorless, viscous fluid flowed from my urethra.  I began to cry since I was frustrated, scared….and…and turned on?  “hihh huhh huh huh ah aaaahhhh mmm hihh.”

Why am I hard…horny?  Is this what is called “fear play?”  Sexually activity with high physical or psychological risk.  Is that it?  The feeling of helplessness…having pain inflicted on me…being in a terrified mental state of being murdered… must be triggering the release of adrenaline…a hormone released during times of excitement or stress.  Yes.  Fear has to be playing a role in causing me to sexual arousal…contributing to the increased heart rate, blood flow, and heightened senses.  Yes.  It is potentially leading to the confusing feelings of attraction and lust toward my captor.  

Archie returned to find Sean still hard and a string of pre-cum hanging from his mushroom tip.  The veins of the tube-shaped middle of his cock looked more swollen…healthy blood flow causing Sean’s penis to throb.  He wasn’t sure if it was the fact he was drunk, but Sean looked more seductive than he remembered.  He wished he could keep him.  

Archie walked over to me.  He said, “I am going to remove your gag.  If you like, I will give you some water.  Don’t say a word!  Understand?”  I knodded.  Archie unbuckled the strap and pulled out the Tongue Trapper Gag.  What a relief.  Archie opened a bottle water and held it to my lips so I could drink.  He then drank from the same bottle.  To my surprise, he leaned down to my face and lightly brushed his lips over mine.  At first, he used feather-light pressure and his movements were slow.  This built up anticipation and excitement that I never felt before.  He cradled my face with his hands on my cheeks and then my neck.  I parted my lips and our tongues touched.  What I discovered was my tongue is loaded with nerve endings and the mere act of touching Archie’s tongue with my own was very pleasant.  My first French kiss.  Well, second if you count what happened earlier when Archie had French kissed my booty hole and shoved his tongue up in there.  Hum.  That same tongue is now in my mouth.  I wanted the kissing to speed up and I wanted his tongue deeper in my mouth.  I opened wider all the while I kept my lips locked on his lips.  One of his hands moved from my neck down to my right nipple and he began rubbing it a circular motion causing it to become erect again.  Next, his other hand found my felt nipple and he started rubbing it in a opposite circular motion.  Soon thereafter, he was lightly twisting my nipple boners.  Obviously, my knobs are a distinctly powerful erogenous zone and hundreds of sensitive nerve ending lying below the surface of my nips were sending intense erotic sensations to my scrotum totem as it began bouncing up and down.  Is this nipple play going to lead to a nipple orgasm?  Unconsciously, I was moaning.  This isn’t gay, is it?  

Archie pulled away.  He said, “Hhhhuummm.  Nice mouth.  I bet you’re a yummy little sausage nipper.”  Before I could respond, Archie put his hand over my mouth and reminded me that I was not allowed to speak.   He began using a hex wrench to open the hinges of the ball stretcher.  My dingle bag immediately snapped back tight and returned to a healthy pink color.  Next, Archie removed the leather cuffs around my ankles and I was able to stand up straight.  He had me take a couple of steps and made me kneel.  Archie then unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his fly.  He removed his monstrous erect pecker and began slapping my face with it.  He said, “OK, bitch.  Get after it!”  I didn’t know what to do.  I began licking the tip of his penis as if it was ice cream.  Archie was not pleased and he ordered me to open my mouth.  I did as he instructed.  He grabbed the back of my head with one hand and guided his one eyed willy in my mouth with his other hand.  It was warm inside my mouth.  It tasted like a hint of pee and sweat.  So incredible!  I wanted more.  Little by little, Archie’s cock began to grow.  I could feel his pronounced veins on his penis across my tongue and roof of my mouth.  I was struggling to breathe since his tallywacker was so thick, but he couldn’t care less and kept pushing, once he hit the back of my throat I started gagging as my throat couldn’t take it.  My discomfort seemed to bring him much joy.  He forcefully face fucked me for more than 20 minutes.  I was able to control my pharyngeal reflexes as his entire penis was in my mouth and his balls were hitting my salvia drenched chin.  He started making growling sounds.  Archie’s cock began to convulse.  The first blast of hot cum was so forceful that it reactivated my gag reflex causing a burn rise from the back of my throat which was swiftly doused by his heavy cream.  It tasted like salty sour milk.  As crazy as it sounds, I was pleased with my performance and happy that I made Archie climax.

Archie almost fell backwards as he ejaculated in my mouth.  He said, “Fuck.  That was way too soon!  I wanted to blow a full-on shed-full of baby batter in your stink pipe.  That’s OK.  It is not like you are going anywhere.  I need a little break.  First, I gotta gag you again.”  He grabbed the Tongue Trapper Gag and quickly shoved it in my mouth and secured it behind my head.  I made a “mmmuuff” sound.  I wished he had shown some sign of kindness for my effort, such as a drink of water so I could wash down his thick cum in my throat.

Archie said, “I’m going to get you ready and get another drink.”  He retrieved a couple of heavy duty steel D-rings tie down anchors and screws from his luggage.  With his drill, he drilled four screws in each anchor, about two feet on each side of the headboard of the bed.  Archie then tied a long piece of rope from each D-ring.  Next, he picked me up and threw me in the middle of the bed.  Before I knew it, he raised my right leg and began tying the end of the rope attached to the right D-ring.  Soon thereafter, my left ankle was tied with the rope attached to the left D-ring.  My legs were extended upwards and spread wide.  My folded arms under the small of my back causes my ass to be propped up.

Archie stood back to look at his work.  Sean’s prize ass was spread on the bed.  His cheeks were round, creamy and firm.  His hole was a tempting rosebud that was pink, smooth and clean.  His stocking clad feet waving helplessly above his head.  I quickly grabbed the jar of Vaseline and coated my middle finger.  I crawled in between Sean’s legs and and straddled him.  My face was inches from his and I said, “Had to gag you because you are going to experience pain like you never have before and you will want to scream and scream and scream.  You see, inflicting pain is what really arouses me.  My cock will feel like it is ripping you in half.  Your cock and balls were be tortured.  I will apply clamps to your pink little twittles.  Yea.  I’m your worst nightmare.  I will give you an hour to take it all in and just imagine what is yet to come.  Here is a little preview.”  I began applying the Vaseline to his clenched assshole and slowly inserted my finger.  Sean was definitely tight and I could tell his entire body stiffened as I slowly got my entire middle finger inside.  I felt around for his prostate.  Bingo!  My finger found a bulbous shape that was about the size of a walnut and the texture of bit a ripe avocado.  I began messaging the organ and Sean let out a gasp as his toes curled.  Yep!  I got his g-spot.  Sean’s breathing became labored and he was flushed.  As I began finger-fucking Sean, he got a terrific hard on that he could not control.  All right!  He is loving the prostate milking technique I applied as his prostate swelled and he began releasing fluids.  That was enough for now.  I don’t want him to cum too soon.  Ha!  I love the fact I am in control and can make decisions whether my little slave feels pain or pleasure, cum or denial, and fear or ecstacy.  I  then got off the bed, made sure my pants were zipped and my belt buckled.  

Sean was confused.  He really thought he was developing a connection with Archie.  He was tender while they kissed.  He did his best to suck him off.  Why does he want to hurt me?  Can he…will he…kill me?  And what did he just do when he violated me.  It hurt at first, but when he wiggled his finger inside my rectum, it was an unusual and pleasurable sensation.  At first, I thought I had pissed a little bit, but now looking at my cock, I see it was a thin stream of milky fluid that had leaked from my dick hole.  

Archie loved the fear he saw in Sean’s eyes as I fingered him.  The rough finger fuck made him squirt some prostate milk, probably for the first time.  I think I will make him suffer for the entire weekend.  As he closed the bedroom door, he took one last look at his captive stud.  He loved the way Sean’s tiny Vaseline-moistened boy pussy was clenching and relaxing as if it was motion for me to come-hither and shove my kidney cracker deep inside his warm poop chute.  His feet are now arched and leg muscles, including those meaty calves, are flexing.  Sean must be testing the anchors and ropes keeping his legs spread wide.  His face was flushed.  I was loving his quavering man berries and meatpole.  He wants to see if Sean’s milk shitter will shoot, shoot, and shoot until he has a cum hangover and just shoots dry blanks.  Now, I am thinking I don’t need a break.  I want to feel him on the inside.  No.  No.  I need to get a drink and come up with a game plan.  

Archie was deep in thought as he exited the hotel room.  As soon as he heard the door close behind him; he realized he forgot the room key.  Shit!  He won’t be able to get back in and fulfill his fantasy.  All his bondage gear and toys are in that room!  He can’t ask the front desk clerk for a key.  Damn!  Damn!  Damn!  Archie had no choice but to leave the hotel property.  He has no idea what Sean will tell the hotel staff when they find him in the morning or days later.

Sean was clueless about the situation.  It seemed like hours had passed.  To his right,  there was the mirrored interior sliding closet door.  His own reflection  was turning him on.  His legs spread wide with his ass propped up.  He could feel a cool breeze across his pink starfish…exposed…attachable…in danger of being licked and nibbled in an aggressive manner…more tongue-punching of my fart box…causing my ass sphincter to relax…methane gas pouring out of the gates…Archie having the pleasure of gobbling the highly concentrated dose of my grade A smug.   When Archie is ready, he can then just sodomize me as hard and as long as he wants.  I’m his gay slave…his boner bouncer.  He is my ass ranger.  Sean’s attention was toward the reflection in the mirror of his own trembling arched stocking feet suspended in the air…the contrast of the rough hemp ropes against the silky fabric of the dress socks…the ropes keeping his legs strung up and spread wide…the way this position showed off his sharply calves.  It was sexually arousing.  Sean had a lot of time to try and rationalize his dress sock fetish and he believed the dress socks was symbolic of masculinity which was in contrast to his unmasculine dilemma.  Speciality, he in in a position to be be mounted and raped by a dominant male as if he was nothing more than a depository for his seed.  Sean look between his spread legs.  His blue veined clarinet was pointing upward.  He shook his hips and just the slight motion caused his semi-hard penis to become hard and precum dribbling down his shaft.  Sean was experiencing a sensation of an energetic throbbing in his penis as his ballsac swells with sperm.  He was concerned he was going to have a hands-free orgasm.  What would Archie think or do if he returns to find my tummy, chest and face covered in my my own milky sauce?

Sean heard the hotel door open.  He felt a chill down his spine.  That fucking sociopath has returned and will probably torture me.  I just pray he won’t kill me.  To his surprise, he heard a familiar voice say, “Sean!  Sean!  Are you in here?”  It was Tim.  I am saved!  Tim opened the bedroom door and just stared  at me for a full minute.  He was still in his Power Ranger’s costume.  Tim looked over his shoulder and said, “Thank you ma’am.  He is resting comfortably in bed.  Sorry.  There was no emergency.”  A female voice from a distance expressed her relief that I was fine and I heard the door close.  Tim took it all in.  The suitcase full of bondage toys, lube and condoms on the dining room table, and me in a compromising position.

Sean was not shocked that Tim did show any particular emotion.  He suffers from Asperger’s Syndrome which is a developmental disorder that makes it very hard for him to interact with other people.  Therefore, Tim does not recognize verbal and non-verbal cues or understand social norms very well.  He has a brilliant mind.  Tim is just like the fictional character, Sheldon, from the Big Bang Theory.  Tim is classically handsome, just like a young Cary Grant.  He is pursued by women due to his good looks and wealth, but sadly; Tim just cannot make an emotional connection with others.  He does however fits in well with the rest of us comic-com nerds.  He walked over to the bed.  Hopefully, he will untie me and not ask a lot of questions.

Tim made no attempt to release Sean.  He said, “Sean.  I am confused.  You faked a sickness, leaving us without a full Power Ranger’s team, just so you could partake in sort of fantasy scenario like you were a sex slave for either superheroes or villains.”  I  have head about this sort of shenanigans.  Is that right?”  I just nodded my head.  It seemed simpler to agree with Tim.  I was in no position to explain the situation.  Come on Tim, release me.  Hurry before Archie returns.  He said, “So, you let others use you as a sexual thingamajig and you pretended to resist so that is why you are bound and gagged.  Right?”  Again, I just nodded.  I will try to come up a plausible explanation later.  He continue, “Well.  I don’t know what makes me more mad.  You not fulfilling your obligation in attending Pensacon with us or not including me in the fantasy scenario.  Wait!  Or did you indent for me to find you like this!  Yes.  This makes sense.  I mean, we are friends and don’t friends do stuff like this?  I see the state of your penis marked by a firm turgid form which is caused by cavernous tissue becoming dilated with blood.  This is evident that you are sexually aroused.  I’m flattered that thinking of me causes you to be erect.”  He patted my ass.

As Tim began removing his costume, I began to panic.  I wish he had removed my gag so I could request he release me.  I didn’t know what to do.  What could I do?  I looked over and Tim was stripped down to his g-string which was like mine but in red.  I wasn’t expecting him to have such a well-defined physique.  Lightly hairy chest and legs.  I noticed his meaty peach fuzz ass when he turned around.  He left the room and returned with a jar of Vaseline.  Why does he have Vaseline?  “Tim, no!  No!  No!”  “Eemmm hu hu oh.”

Tim looked at his helpless superhero.  Sean is really getting into the role playing.  Moaning and struggling.  He really wanted to be friends with Sean.  He has very few friends.  Maybe he is offering himself because he wants me to feel good.  Also, he did find Sean to be very attractive.  He has had a few wet dreams about Sean.  Tim also wants the full experience of his first comic-com and this is apparently something that normal people do at such conventions.  Surely, having one’s anus penetrated will hurt tremendously.  Yes.  Sean is making a sacrifice so I can feel pleasure with avoiding any emotional intimacy.  I began fantasizing myself as Lord Zedd, a major villain from the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and Sean as the blue Power Ranger, Billy Cranston.  In this senecio, I as Lord Zedd, will plant my seed within Billy which will make him into a monster and can join me to take down all the Power Rangers.  Tim started stroking his semi-hard dick as he focused on his target for impalement; Sean’s lemon pucker.  Tim announced, “Ready Billy!  It is time to experience my anal invader!”

Billy?  Oh shit.  Tim is associating me with a Power Ranger’s character; like some type of erotic or sexual transference.  I don’t think he understands he is about to commit a crime punishable to twenty years to life in prison.  He probably isn’t even gay, but is about to engage in the worst sinful homosexual behavior.  I couldn’t take my eyes off his growing penis as he stroked it.  It looked like a perfectly proportionate circumcised penis; straight and veiny.  Low swinging testicles.  Why was I getting aroused?  Tim left the room again.  Thank goodness.  He must have come to his senses.

Tim returned and pulled out a hood made of shiny, stretchy, black spandex and has a soft cushioned blindfold sewn into the front of the hood from behind his back.  Tim easily pulled it over my head.  The built-in blindfold effectively blocking my vision.  Thankfully, the hood was easy to breathe through. 

As a teenager, Tim was treated autism spectrum disorder in an outpatient counseling center.  It was intended to help him overcome sensory sensitivities and challenges with social cues so he could conform and adjust to the customs of high school.  He reflected on one session in which his therapist discussed his assessment of Tim’s hypersexual and paraphilic fantasies when compared to the general-population.  Tim had openly discussed the fact he engaged in solitary sexual activities such as constantly masturbating while having sexual fantasies of inflicting psychological or physical suffering or pain on a sexual partner (male or female).  The therapist explained that Tim’s erotic self-stimulation was not abnormal for an individual with an autism spectrum disorder; as well as to have urges and fantasies involving bondage, discipline, dominance and submission, sadomasochism and other related interpersonal dynamics.  Through years of treatment, Tim was able to decrease the solitary sexual activities and he avoided his desires to read stories and watch videos pertaining to BDSM.  He thought he would never engage in any sex that is atypical in nature.  However…today…he can’t control himself.  He has a prepared victim…easy pickins…too fucking easy.  Doesn’t really matter that it is a dude…my friend…any hole is a goal and there is an anal orifice looking at me…flirting with me…being sexually inviting….ready to receive my penis. 

Sean couldn’t believe his good and bad luck.  He was saved from being raped and possible murdered by a deranged sexual predator, to only be set up to be raped by a friend who thinks this is some sort of acceptable role-playing exercise.  I could hear the opening of the Vaseline jar.  I assumed, based on the sticky sounds, Tim began coating his sausage with the jelly.  Suddenly, I felt and a big gob of the cold viscous jelly on my anus as Tim used his finger to spread it around so the lubricant covered my dookie hole.  Nothing I could do to protect my exposed anus.  I was shaking my head violently and screaming.  I believe Tim was interpreting my movements and muffled screams as excitement or I was acting a part in a sick fantasy, because he simple got between my suspended legs and his tip of his penis was pressing against my butthole.  I thought if I bear down through my pelvis, I could tighten my external sphincter.  However, I think it made it easier for Tim to enter me.  I could feel the head of his penis pushing through my anus.  It felt like I was tearing me in half.  Once his mushroom head had penetrated me, my sphincter tightened around the base.  I am sure this felt tight and warm around his dick.  He was able to push in further with little effort due to the lube.  He held on my hips as he pushed in.  Once he passed my sphincter muscles; there was little very little resistance.  It felt like taking a huge poop in reverse.  He held all his weight against me holding his cock the deepest it could possibly go and held it there for about 30 seconds; I was breathing heavy trying to control the pain as best I could, but there was little rest as he started pulling out and felt like he was pulling my whole insides out with him.  It make a popping sound when he removed his cock completely out, I had a strange feeling of emptiness, but it was short lived and he rammed it right back down ball deep in one hard thrusting motion and then proceeded to fuck me with absolutely no mercy.  I wondered what would happen if Archie returned…watching without Tim knowing…as he is fucking me…my feet waving in the air.  Would he subdue Tim?  Would Tim and I both be Archie’s lecherous victims?

After a few minutes, the pain began to subside.  The best I could explain the experience of Tim being inside me is an abundantly full feeling.  My rectum has envelop his entire cock and it was a strangely intimate connection with my friend…I mean, friend with benefits.  He moaned, “You feel good.  I assume I should talk dirty.”  Tim continued to pushed in and pull almost out.  He started picking up speed and going deeper until he was totally in.  He began fucking me hard and I was starting to enjoy it.  He yelled, “Yea Billy.  You can’t elude my powerful cock.  You are my property and I  can use you to pleasure myself.”  I felt his balls slapping the space between my anus and scrotum. His thrust were causing friction between his cock and my prostate.  I started perceiving myself as a desirable sexual object worthy of this handsome and brilliant man’s cock.  What we are doing is taboo…kinky…satisfying.  I may cum. 

Tim was thoroughly enjoying himself…fucking a juicy butt.  The hood helped that since he could not see Sean’s face, especially his eyes, so he could just focus on his pleasure…as I rape him…making him more an inanimate object…a sex toy.  Really, he couldn’t care less how Sean was feeling.  He looked down and became even more aroused at the sight of Sean’s ass that was shaking like Jello as he was going in and out of Sean’s love tunnel.  He was surprised that the sight of Sean’s bouncing weighty ball sack and humongous tube steak did not repulse him.  In fact, he was intrigued.  Really, isn’t everyone really just sexual beings?  Bisexual at some degree?  Tim could tell that Sean was enjoying himself since his hard penis was twitching and oozing clear, mucus-like fluid.  Tim decided to cup Sean’s testicles in one of his hands.  They were warm, soft and squishy.  Next, he reached up and held onto Sean’s joystick.  As he was slowly fucking Sean, Tim was unconsciously masturbating Sean.  Sean seemed to love the role-playing since his moans got louder and he was trying to move his hips to increase the rhythm of the intercourse.  Win.  Win.  Tim was feeling Sean’s sphincter muscles clamping down.  

Sean began yelling to fuck him harder, but it came out like, “hhhuuucc meee haarrerr.”  He could feel air escaping his asshole when Tim would pull all the way out and before he shoved his pecker back in deep inside is Sean.  Tim was in the zone.  He was fucking me in a frenzy.  The noise made as our bodies connected, sounded like I was being spanked like I was a bad boy.  Yes.  Sean is a bad boy.  I’m now Tim’s bad boy.   I was praying that Tim would continue stroking my manhood.  I was imagining my prick was some wild beast that had awakened.  I don’t even know myself quite how it’s going to behave when it cums.  Shivering started in my groin area and spread along my spine.  Then it’s was like an electric buzz starting spreading in waves accompanied by muscle contractions in my stomach, back and chest.  My bound stocking feet were waving in the air as if they were hands of a conductor instructing an orchestra the dynamics, emotion , expression, speed and beat of the music they are playing.

Soon Tim lets out a growl and his body convulse. “Errrrrr!  I’m shooting a load!  Tighten those anal walls, you fucking whore!,” he yelled.  He then stopped thrusting; leaving his entire erect penis deep inside of me.  I could feel his cock spasm in my anal canal and rectum.  He was slowly tugging on my cock while he was discharging his semen…with every stroke the sensitivity increased.  As he stopped his thrusting…his entire dick deep in me…he made a sighing noise…possibly since he was having a “come down” effect where feelings of relaxation or even slight sadness can occur.  I wish I could have seen his face as he pumped his love juice inside me.  Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  It’s happening….I’m cumming…I’m cumming….IIIIII….Uuuuhhhhh.  My orgasm was like uncorking a shook champagne bottle…pressure building constantly…then a bang…cum spraying out…followed by more cum flowing from my dick slit…and then it’s over rather fast.  I could feel my thick hot jism on my neck, chest, stomach and hood.  Initially, the feeling as it came out was uncontrollable, but towards the end, I pushed more.  Tim also seemed to want see more cum ooze out since he started tightly gripping my base, squeeze and pulled up at a snail’s pace.  I didn’t want the sexual gratification to end.  I assumed the way I was fucked, my prostate was also stimulated.  The resulting orgasm was way longer than any orgasm I had ever experienced and the intensity was cranked up to maximum.  There’s also a significantly larger amount of semen…warm globs on my chest and stomach as well as oozing down around my groin.  My arms and legs went numb and I was lightheaded.  Tim’s sperm had been released inside of me and began pooling in my rectum.  It felt warm and as Tim slowly withdrew, his gooey nut butter started oozing between my crack.  

Sean could not explain his feelings of relief and excitement as well as detachment from reality, as if he was in a dream…escaping death…being saved by his now best friend…loosing his virginity…having a mind-blowing orgasm all within the last few hours.  Two individuals found him desirable and wanted to have their way with him.  Sean was also confused.  He wanted to have more sexual adventures regardless if it is with men or women.  Well, at least being a submissive to a man while exploring more bondage and normal, boring, heterosexual sex with women.  

Tim eventually untied Sean, took off the mask and removed his gag.  Tim politely thank Sean for offering an orifice for his pleasure and suggested they have more similar meetings.  In fact, Tim suggested he take the bondage equipment home with him since he would be more than happy to host the next meeting and invite others who may also enjoy roleplaying and climaxing within Sean since it appeared to have given Sean great pleasure.

Sean made sure he locked the doors and decided to take a shower.  As he reminisced about the evening events, he got hard.  He masturbated in the shower, again before he went to bed, and even woke up the next morning with a woody that he stroked immediately.

Since then, Sean and Tim has had many adventures.

“You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby”

Oliver’s naked body lay in bed, exhausted over the crumpled sheets from the intense lovemaking that had taken place during the last few days. Niko’s room had become their world; their souls and bodies merged so tightly that neither could tell where one ended and the other began. Everything felt perfect, as if it were meant to be, and Oliver could hardly see a life beyond the boundaries of Niko’s arms and the walls of that space. It had been a week since the blonde fled the hotel, and as far as he was concerned, he had no intention of returning. He had, however, been meeting with Jason and Sophia, using them to keep Rafaella up to speed on his well-being. But Oliver’s mind seemed bothered by a lingering foreboding feeling since their last visit.

“What’s wrong?” Niko questioned, his naked body sitting near the small desk next to the window, one leg up as his bloated cock dangled over the edge of the chair. It was still dripping cum from having just been inside Oliver for the third time that morning. “You’ve been sulking since yesterday,” the stud scrutinized.

Oliver, who lay across the bed, facing the ceiling, rolled over. His eyes locked on his lover, whose harboring smile immediately offered the boy serenity.

“My mom…she hasn’t been feeling well,” the blonde conveyed, his heart’s tribulations wholly exposed to the stud.

“We can go see her if you want?” the hunk suggested without hesitation. By now, Niko knew that Oliver’s relationship with his mother was, besides their own, the most significant connection in his life.

“I don’t want to meet him,” Oliver muttered, visibly peeved. “Besides, she won’t say anything to me,” he stated.

“Why not?” Niko asked patiently.

“Because they still treat me like I’m some fucking fragile thing that can’t handle whatever it is they’re hiding…and they’re hiding something,” Oliver mumbled, his eyes wandering over to the window.

“Hey, look at me,” Niko instructed gently, prompting the boy’s eyes back on him. “I’m sure it’s nothing you need to worry about. She’d tell you if it was serious,” the stud reiterated, smiling.

“I suppose…” Oliver mumbled, his lips laboring to move. Suddenly, his eyes locked on Niko, whose magical smirk immediately pulled Oliver out of his stupor. “I think I need a couple minutes,” Oliver whispered, his lips stretching as he chuckled, burying his head on his pillow in the most adorable way as he caught Niko’s cock slowly lifting again between his muscular legs.

But as their gaze tarried, Oliver began to squint, noticing how Niko’s eyes seemed to meander around his body, awe and wonder taking hold of them. It was as if, in place of lust and sexual desire, an admiration and ethereal contemplation rose. The stud’s arm stretched sideways, his hand sliding delicately inside one of the desk’s drawers. He pulled out an old, analogic camera, slowly took it up, aiming his eye at the viewfinder and letting his finger hover over the indicator as he gently adjusted the focusing ring.

“What are you doing?” Oliver moaned, his body stretching as his eyes teased Niko from under the pillow.

“Making sure I have proof,” the stud explained as he snapped shot after shot, tugging the film advance lever with his thumb between each one.

“Of what?” Oliver mumbled, his body now unconsciously modeling for the camera. Behind it, Niko smiled, his soul beaming. There was a brief silence, where only the camera sounds could be heard, before Niko’s voice finally punctured from under it.

“That this wasn’t a dream,” the stud whispered. His voice was so faint it almost felt like he purposely wanted to conceal his words. Oliver’s playfulness stopped abruptly, his turquoise gaze locked on the stud.

“Sounds like you’re saying goodbye,” the boy remarked. Niko chuckled, slowly bringing the camera down. His emerald jewels blinked slowly, enamored by the boy’s astute nature.

“I’m always saying goodbye…” the hunk whispered to himself again.

“Hey…come here,” Oliver beckoned, his hand stretching outwards.

Niko placed the camera on the desk and stood up, walking over to the edge of the bed and kneeling next to it, crossing his arms and putting his chin over them, eyes gazing up at Oliver. They didn’t say anything to each other, but at that moment, Oliver realized that Niko had been saying goodbye to him every day since they met. The way he touched him, the way he looked at him, the way he cared for his body and fed his spirit came layered with a desperate yearning for something already lost. Niko lived their love like every moment was their last.

“I just…” the stud stuttered, a profound sense of inevitably hijacking his every breath.

Oliver wanted to say something. Anything that would pluck the despair flooding Niko’s beautiful green ocean. But he couldn’t. So he leaned forward and kissed the stud passionately, their tongues entirely at ease with each other, melting into an effortless, lustful choreography. And slowly, Niko dove into Oliver, their bodies merging over the sheets. And once again, their consciousness drifted off, and they forgot about the world, surrendering to their love.

Niko’s lips detached from Oliver’s mouth and began sliding down the boy’s smooth chest, his tongue gliding along his stomach, teasing his belly button and stopping over his abdomen. The hunk’s nose lingered there, sniffing his lover’s blonde bush, taking in its alluring scent, which now reeked of both their cums mixed together. Niko smiled and began licking the blonde’s rock-hard pink shaft that stretched proudly under his beard.

“Oh…” the boy moaned, slightly surprised. “That’s…new,” he added teasingly.

“You said you needed a breather,” Niko groaned, his words muffled as his plump lips nibbled on Oliver’s delicate foreskin. “So, just lay back and relax,” the stud instructed, pulling the boy’s cock up, dragging his skin back, and diving his mouth down on it.

Oliver’s chin dropped, his eyes glazing with pleasure. His head fell back, eyes on the ceiling, bawling in rapture as he felt the warmth of Niko’s mouth wrapped around his cock for the first time. It was indescribable. Like a warm, humid silk towel clutched around it, hugging it slowly as it moved up and down. Niko’s tongue moved gracefully along, gliding over the base, the stud’s controlled breath spewing from his nose. Oliver was immediately overwhelmed, his toes curling and his leg muscles tensing in eros as his thighs shivered slightly.

“Fuck…” he moaned.

But Niko didn’t respond. He seemed too enthralled by the boy’s cock, eager to milk his savory juice, whose scent he knew so well but whose taste he hadn’t had the pleasure to experience in its fullness. He began to speed up, his luscious lips stretching thin as he moved up and down, sucking on Oliver’s perfectly shaped pink dick, and he could feel it tingling every time his tongue grazed the boy’s perineal gland. He pulled his mouth out and started wiggling the tip over it, teasing it before diving back in. And each time he did, he gripped his mouth even tighter around it, embracing the boy’s cock with determined yet gentle energy. And soon, there wasn’t a single inch of Oliver’s cock who wasn’t being worshiped. Niko was in the zone, making sure his lover experienced the joys of a good blowjob. What the boy didn’t know was that Niko’s mouth had never touched another man’s dick. Oliver was his first.

The boy’s head came up, his blue eyes barely able to keep themselves open, and he gazed at Niko, who looked positively beaming. The stud looked up at the boy, his head bobbing up and down, glazing the blonde’s shaft with his spit. Their intimacy was now peeking. It wasn’t long before Oliver locked on Niko. Inside the stud’s eyes, he saw how, strangely and beautifully, Niko was gifting Oliver with a piece of his virginity, of his innocence. Just like he had taken a part of Oliver with him, a part of him now belonged to the boy, too.

“Niko…I’m…” Oliver announced, his head quivering as he stared at Niko’s eyes closing in delight before the first strings of thick cum fired inside the stud’s mouth. “Shit…fuck…” the boy moaned, his eyes barely opened, desperately holding on to the mesmerizing image of Niko’s usually powerful and dominant figure now submissively swallowing every drop of his batter, moaning as he did.

The more Oliver wept in pleasure, the more Niko responded, gliding his tongue over the now-sensitive pink skin. He could feel the hunk’s throat moving and see his Adam’s apple sliding up and down as he swallowed every drop, finally skating his lips out slowly.

“Damn…that was a mouth full,” Niko playfully teased, smiling. His beautiful white teeth emerged, the corners of his mouth still flushed, and his thick beard soaked and dripping with Oliver’s cum. “Well?” he questioned.

Oliver’s mouth, which had been open the entire time, finally closed. The boy swallowed dry before finally speaking.

“Yeah…I definitely wanna try that again…” the boy stuttered before letting his head fall back, chuckling with pure joy and overwhelming bliss.

Niko crawled up and brought his lips to Oliver’s. He kissed the boy, allowing him to taste himself. So Olive did, then paused, his lips slowly stretching into a grin. Niko lay his head on the blonde’s soft chest and exhaled. If there were a heaven, this would certainly be it, Oliver thought. Then his eyes closed, and he fell into a deep and peaceful slumber.

Later that day, the sky over Paros was an unblemished canvas of cerulean blue, the late afternoon sun casting golden rays over the whitewashed small-scale houses and winding cobblestone streets. Oliver’s lingering uneasiness, however, was a stark contrast to the day’s beauty. He sat on the edge of the bed in the small room, twisting his fingers together as he gazed out the window. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of intense passion and discovery, a rupture in time that had allowed him to gaze at what a future could look like for him and Niko. The stud lay in bed, his eyes watching over Oliver’s unease. He rose and sat behind him, wrapping his comforting naked body around the boy.

“Let’s just stay in bed today and fuck our brains out,” he teased gently, his whispering voice adding a lilting softness to his words. Oliver took a deep breath, tipping into Niko’s embrace.

“What have we been doing for the past week?” Oliver replied, chuckling. He melted into Niko’s muscular chest, now the most unassailable place in his life.

“It’s not my fault you’re so fucking irresistible,” the stud taunted as he began to kiss Oliver’s neck, his tongue teasing the boy’s soft skin.

“Sophia and Jason are meeting us downtown tonight. Is that okay?” Oliver asked. Niko nodded, understanding and empathy etched into his features. The stud knew Oliver’s melancholy might benefit from mingling a bit. Oliver smiled, grateful for his lover’s steadfast support. “Niko…I might drop by the hotel to see my mother tomorrow morning,” the boy announced, his skin prickling as the stud continued to kiss his neck and shoulders. “And I want you to come with me,” he added.

“Sure,” Niko replied without hesitation.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the villa, Oliver and Niko made their way to the cozy downtown taverna near the waterfront, where Oliver had danced the night they first made love. It had now become their usual spot. It stood at the edge of the beach, its doors wide open to the balmy night air as the thumping beat of music spilled out into the street, inviting inside anyone daring enough to let their spirit roam free. Twinkling fairy lights adorned the entrance, and a large, welcoming bouncer nodded them through with a smile, their presence now widely regarded as paramount. The warm air inside was filled with laughter and clinking glasses, and the salty scent of the sea mingled with the aroma of grilled seafood and fresh herbs being served at the tables around the open-air dancefloor. Inside the bar was a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Neon lights flickered in time with the music, casting a playful glow over the dancing crowd. The air was thick with the scent of citrus and sea salt, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the patrons. Oliver felt a surge of excitement, gripping Niko, whose hand was already greedily crawling inside his blouse, gently brushing his soft lower back. Sophia spotted them first as they came in, waving enthusiastically from a corner table. Jason’s perpetual smile greeted them soon after.

“Ollie! Over here!” she hollered, her arm raised in the air.

Niko and Oliver settled at the table, the four ordering a round of “ouzo” and “mezes” to get things going. Conversation flowed easily, the familiar camaraderie offering a temporary reprieve to Oliver’s worries. About twenty minutes later, they were all pretty drunk, laughing and taking the piss at each other like only close friends would.

“Truth or dare?” Jason hollered at the table, his voice hovering over the commotion around them. His chestnut eyes turned to Oliver.

“Truth,” Oliver replied, taking a sip of his drink.

“Did you ever make out with Sophia?” Jason questioned, forcing Oliver and his cousin’s eyes to meet. They lingered in a brief silence. “Dude, really?” he added, visibly surprised.

“Just once. We had just seen Dirty Dancing,” Oliver quipped, smiling as his blue eyes stared at Sophia.

“And…?” Jason drilled, seemingly aroused.

“It was weird,” Sophia replied, her face shrugging. “Like…kissing a brother,” she explained, turning to Jason, whose chin sunk slightly.

“Truth or dare?” Niko questioned, his glinting green eyes locked on Sophia.

“Truth. I’m too tired for dares today,” Sophia said.

“Have you two fucked yet?” Niko taunted, throwing the question over the table at a visibly stunned Jason as his eyes darted between the young man and Sophia. Oliver’s inebriated head fell over the stud’s shoulder, his chuckles bursting from underneath.

“Niko, that’s a personal quest…” Sophia stated with a feigning coyness.

“No,” Jason interrupted, his bluntness propelling the four friends to laugh hysterically.

“I tried to sneak into your room the other night, but my mom caught me just as I was walking out the service stairs door,” Sophia admitted as she stared at Oliver.

“Nothing gets past Aunt Chi,” the blonde conveyed, his sweet tone unable to coil the couple’s visible exasperation.

“She’s vicious, dude. My dick is like a leaking spout,” Jason grunted with frustration. Niko and Oliver looked at each other, sharing a complicit gaze as their lips grinned. Perched on the edge of her seat, Sophia leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Alright, Ollie. Truth or dare?” she uttered. Oliver, sprawled comfortably in front of her, considered for a moment.

“Dare,” he finally said, a grin spreading across his face. Sophia’s smile grew wider, a hint of challenge in her eyes.

“I dare you to kiss Jason,” she said.

The table fell silent for a moment, everyone exchanging surprised glances. Jason’s eyes widened, amusement and slight discomfort crossing his face. Sophia’s eyebrows tightened, and a small smile played on her lips. Caught off guard, Oliver felt a sudden adrenaline rush, his fearless nature quickly gaining ground. He glanced at Jason, who shrugged with his usual good-natured smile.

“A dare’s a dare, right?” Jason muttered, shrugging. Oliver chuckled and turned his eyes to Sophia.

“You’re really pushing it, aren’t you?” the blonde whispered, razzing his cousin’s challenge. Sophia blinked, her smile unwavering.

“You said dare,” she provoked.

Oliver took a deep breath, the room watching in rapt anticipation. He stood up and walked over to Jason, who leaned back on his chair, bracing himself. The blonde, in an unscripted move, slid his ass down and sat on Jason’s lap, wrapping his arms around his friend.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Jason said with a stuttering laugh, his voice laboring to come off as nonchalant, yet under it, an apparent trepidation.

Oliver leaned in, his soft, plump red lips gently coasting over Jason’s. He could feel the young stud holding his breath, expecting it to be nothing more than a soft peck. But Oliver lingered, feeling bold and daring, and his fresh, alluring, and intoxicating breath began to spew into Jason’s mouth. Slowly but surely, the young man’s lips started to part, allowing Oliver’s tongue to slide inside unannounced. The uproar around them became muffled, and Jason’s chest exhaled. Next to them on the table, Niko’s emerald eyes gazed, fascinated, watching Jason’s lips slowly engulf the blonde’s mouth. As Niko’s eyes descended, he could see the straight stud’s indiscriminate hands slowly crawling up Oliver’s waist, sliding inside his blouse. Oliver pulled away, a soft gasp breaking from inside their locked lips, and as their mouths lingered inches apart, a string of spit still connected them.

“Well…that was…” Jason stuttered, his cheeks slightly flushed. Under him, Oliver could feel Jason’s stiff cock, rubbing against his ass. The blonde grinned and took his lips to his friend’s ears.

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t tell,” he whispered, pulling back and winking. Niko pulled Oliver back into his lap, wrapping his muscular arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“That was fucking hot,” he whispered in Oliver’s ear, his breath warm against the blonde’s skin.

Suddenly, a familiar voice hollered from the bar’s entrance.

“Americano!” Amal called. Oliver’s eyes lifted, and he smiled. Two young men followed her, walking over to them. Niko glanced from under Oliver’s armpit, immediately recognizing one of them. The same guy that had set his eyes on Oliver on his first night there. “Ollie, give Amal hug!” she demanded, opening her arms wide. The boy pulled up and squeezed inside her. The taller, cocky friend scanned the blonde beauty from top to bottom, his eyes undressing every inch of the boy’s magnificence.

“I’m Dimitri. Dimi,” he announced, stretching his hand. As Oliver did the same, Dimi grabbed it and yanked the blonde into him, forcing their bodies to bump. Niko’s emerald stones trembled with rage. Oliver chuckled nervously, his uniquely pleasurable breath inadvertently spewing into the tall stud’s mouth, feeling the odor of his clothes, reeking of cigarettes. “So, you let Americano dance with Dimi tonight?” he abruptly questioned, focusing on Niko, who leaned his massive back on his chair, legs spread.

Amal’s eyes began to dart between Niko and Dimi, her expression shifting slightly. Oliver slowly turned his head, gazing at Niko, who smiled.

“He’s not my property, Dimi. It’s his call,” Niko announced, not even addressing the tall hunk, his eyes solely on Oliver, who frowned. For some reason, Niko’s comment rubbed him the wrong way, so he turned his head and faced Dimi, his blue pearls teasing the tall hunk.

“Sure,” Oliver replied, prompting the most astonished smile on Dimitri’s face.

“Yes!” the tall cutie hollered. “Dimi finally get most beautiful boy!” he added, exuding an endearing quality.

Suddenly, a familiar song began to play on the jukebox. Oliver’s eyes gaped in joyful surprise.

“Fuck, I love this song!” he hollered excitedly, his body turning to Niko. “Come on,” he invited, his blue gaze taunting the stud.

“Warm up for me. I’ll be there in a few…” the stud replied, smiling. Oliver smiled back and stretched his arm, brushing his hand over Niko’s cheek. The stud grabbed his wrist and pulled Oliver in, a strange yet erotic aggressiveness to his movement. “If he so much touches you funny, I’ll punch his fucking nose in,” the stud whispered, kissing Oliver’s lips, his teeth biting on them.

There it was. Exactly what Oliver wanted to hear. Niko was his man, and he was Niko’s. He beamed and grabbed Dimitri’s hand, dragging the stud to the dance floor, a crowd forming around them.

(music playing on the dancefloor)
“If you’re wondering why
All the love that you long for eludes you
And people are rude and cruel to you
I’ll tell you why
I’ll tell you why
I’ll tell you why
I’ll tell you why”

“I’m not even kidding, Sophia. If you don’t fuck me soon, I’ll definitely turn gay,” Jason joked, his eyes still locked on Oliver. Sophia chuckled, clutching his hand and pulling him up, dragging her boyfriend across the room as they joined Oliver, their smiles wide and their spirits high. They linked arms, dancing and shouting along with the music. The rhythm was infectious, their bodies celebrating their youthfulness and their freedom. Where only the love they felt and the bonds they shared mattered.

And in the distance, his green ocean looming over Oliver’s majestic body moving, Niko tended. But his eyes were changing, and a strange gloom was taking hold.

(music playing on the dancefloor)
“You just haven’t earned it yet, Baby
You must suffer and cry for a longer time
You just haven’t earned it yet, Baby
And I’m telling you now”

Amal approached Niko from the back, slowly wrapping her arms around her friend’s neck and leaning into him. Niko’s hands came up, tenderly landing on her arms.

“Soon or late, Americano will leave…Ti tha káneis me óli aftí tin agápi?” she questioned, tapping Niko’s chest just over his heart, kissing her best friend’s cheek, and wandering over to the group who now dominated the dancefloor. Niko’s eyes followed Amal, her words numbing his spirit, and he lingered there, watching Oliver’s body dance for him in slow motion, the boy’s turquoise gaze making love to the stud across the venue.

Even from a distance, inebriated by his joyous beat, Oliver sensed his lover’s emotion. The string of their bond was perpetually unsevered, and their souls spoke to each other, words melting into thoughts.

(music playing on the dancefloor)
“Today I am remembering the time
When they pulled me back
And held me down
And looked me in the eyes and said
You must stay on your own for slightly longer
You just haven’t earned it yet, Baby
And I’m telling you now”

And just as Oliver began to relax into Niko’s emerald pool, feeling the warmth of the evening and the comfort of his loved ones, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure stepping into the bar, moving cautiously among the crowd. It was Uncle Nate. His usually cheerful demeanor was replaced with a somber expression, immediately setting Oliver on edge. He slowly approached the edge of the stage, eyes meeting Oliver’s with urgency and distress. The room closed around Niko, who watched, eyes glistening as his lover’s expression shifted, the boy’s happiness eclipsing into pitch darkness. Beside them, Sophia and Jason exchanged worried glances.

A few minutes later, outside, under the soft glow of the taverna’s lanterns, Nate took a deep breath and finally faced the group.

“Your mom…she’s been taken to the hospital. It looks serious. Your dad asked me to come get you,” Nate explained, his voice struggling to come across as calm and collected. But to no avail. Oliver’s heart was plummeting fast.

“…what do you mean serious?” the boy’s voice stuttered. His hand gripped Niko’s so tight that the stud flinched, feeling his knuckles being crushed. Nate shook his head, his eyes filled with concern.

“We don’t know yet. She collapsed at the hotel this afternoon,” he informed. The world spun around Oliver as he felt Niko’s touch attempting to ground him.

“I need to go to her,” Oliver mumbled, his eyes drifting into nothingness. Sophia stepped forward.

“We’ll all go,” she added, her hand landing softly over her cousin’s trembling shoulder.

Within minutes, they were in a cab, speeding towards the hospital. The journey there was a blur of headlights and worried silence, with Oliver clinging to Niko’s hand, his mind racing with fear and unanswered questions. They rushed to the hospital’s reception desk, where a nurse waited for them, eventually guiding the group through sterile corridors as the antiseptic smell of the hospital loaded their nostrils. When they reached the ICU, Oliver immediately spotted John sitting outside Rafaella’s room. His body was leaning forward, hands holding his concealed face, but under it, the boy could see his father’s usually stern expression carved with fear.

And as they waited for the inevitable news, John’s neck didn’t raise an inch. The small waiting room fell silent, each person grappling with their fears and uncertainties. Niko retook Oliver’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Everything suddenly felt dark and breathless, the antithesis of the warmth and brilliance of the last few days. And time slowly began to perish in a haze of worry and waiting. Doctors and nurses moved in and out of Rafaella’s room, their faces a mixture of calm professionalism and quiet urgency. Oliver, Niko, and the others remained in the waiting area, the tension stale in the air. Finally, a doctor approached them with a somber yet kind expression.

“Mr. Preston,” he stated with a thick, greek accent, finally forcing John’s head to lift, revealing his bloated eyes. Then, the doctor looked at Oliver and the rest of the family. “We have the results. It’s stage IV breast cancer,” the doctor informed. Oliver’s eyes filled with tears, his body stumbling back. “Unfortunately, it has spread and metastasized to her liver and lungs,” he continued each word a fatal blow to Oliver’s heart and the hearts of everyone listening. “I could suggest a course of treatment, but…” the doctor stumbled, a sense of hopelessness taking hold of his stoic expression. “Given your situation, perhaps it might be best to arrange to have Mrs. Preston flown back home as soon as possible…?” he whispered to John, whose eyes darted up.

“I understand,” he muttered before falling back on his chair, his head turning as he attempted to conceal his shivering lips.

As the doctor walked away, the room fell into an insidious silence, words seemingly meaningless. Slowly, the group dispersed, leaving Oliver alone with John. The boy lingered there for a while, eventually succumbing to his empathy as he felt John’s suffering oozing from his every skin pore. Oliver knew John loved his Rafaella just as much as he did, and despite everything, her illness now seemed more significant than any of their differences. He sat next to John, and before he knew it, his hand was crawling up his father’s back, coasting gently on the grieving man’s shoulder. From the end of the corridor, Niko watched, eyes glistened, as John’s hand crawled up and grabbed Oliver’s. He never raised his head from under his shoulders. But there, amid their shared tragedy, John finally put his pride aside and opened his heart to his son.

Making sure Oliver didn’t notice, Niko turned around and left.

A few hours later, a nurse entered the waiting room and announced Rafaella would finally take visitors. Oliver stood up and walked over to the bedroom door, opening it slowly. Inside, his mother lay on the bed, her face obscured under the dim lights as she gazed at the window. But as the boy slowly approached her bed, she turned, and her tired expression immediately lit up. She smiled, her lips hanging open.

“You’re upset, I can tell,” she teased, trying to make light of the situation.

“I’m not upset,” the boy muttered, teeth clenched. Rafaella smiled and lifted her hand strenuously, calling her son to the bed. Oliver hesitated momentarily, but his love for his mother was stronger than his pride. He walked over and slid into the bed, nestling in and laying his head next to her. She rolled over and faced him, their eyes now locked.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Oliver questioned.

“I suppose I didn’t want to believe it. But I knew…I felt something was wrong…” Rafaella attempted to explain.

They lingered there in a silence that brewed with unanswered questions. Rafaella’s hand came up and brushed her son’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Rafaella stated, her eyes glistening.

“It’s not your fault you’re sick,” Oliver replied.

“I didn’t mean that…I meant about Niko,” she explained, prompting Oliver’s eyes to flare up. Suddenly, the stud’s absence was noticeable, and everything inside him felt utterly incomplete again.

“I’m so…confused,” Oliver admitted, his soul struggling to find answers.

“I know you think your life is over. But it’s not,” Rafaella counseled.

“Really?… Because it sure feels like it is,” the boy mumbled, his expression brewing with frustration. Rafaella smiled at her son and slowly nudged her tired body over the bed, pulling herself closer to him.

“Life will still happen to you, bambino, whether you like it or not,” she whispered. “She’ll yank you back and forth, force you to stray from the road you’re on. She’ll challenge you, hurt you, and gift you,” she continued, her words numbing Oliver’s pain. “But in the end…even at the expense of your pain…and your joy…she’ll always correct herself. You’ll see,” she stated.

“Are you sure?” Oliver questioned, his blue gaze hopeful.

“No,” Rafaella replied, chuckling gently. “But I hope,” she added, smiling.

“Mamma…I feel like I’m losing both of you,” Oliver finally confessed.

“It’s not about who or what we lose, Ollie…But how we choose to continue living despite our losses that matter,” Rafaella counseled, pulling her son’s chin up and forcing his eyes to confront hers. “Nothing really ever dies…inside us, I mean…so, promise me you’ll keep your heart open,” she pleaded. Oliver’s lips stretched reluctantly, endeavoring to give his mother some comfort.

“I promise,” the boy professed, diving his face inside her mother’s bosom.

“Ti amo così tanto, mio bellissimo angelo,” Rafaella professed, her benevolent breath coating Oliver’s scalp with the warmest aura.

“Ti amo anch’io, Mamma,” Oliver whispered back, feeling his weariness carry him into a deep slumber.

Over the next few days, as Nate and Chiara wrestled with getting everything ready for their return home, the hospital quickly became Oliver and John’s second residence. The boy and his father split their time between Rafaella’s bedside and the waiting area, where Sophia and Jason kept them company. Their support quickly became Oliver’s lifeline, a source of strength to face what felt like a tormenting nightmare. But now and then, his blue eyes would scour the corridor, hoping Niko would turn the corner, his smile coming to cleanse the blonde’s pain. But he didn’t come. Was Niko purposely avoiding him? Was the stud raising a wall between them, a desperate attempt to shield them from suffering? And how could Oliver blame him? The thought of parting from Niko punctured his chest with an overwhelming void every single time. And he knew that his lover was struggling with the same conflicting thoughts.

As the end of their stay grew near, Oliver’s heart began to cave. And finally, on the eve of their departure, around 5 pm, he left the hospital. The weight of the situation bore down on him, and he felt an overwhelming need to escape, to find some semblance of peace amid the chaos. So he wandered back to the villa, the walk filled with memories of the days he had spent there with Niko. The island that had once seemed a paradise now felt like a dwelling of bittersweet memories and impossible choices.

When he arrived at the central plaza, the villa was eerily quiet, the last specs of the sun casting long shadows across the courtyard as a local crew dismantled the fair, bringing down the small tents and the main stage. He wandered through all those familiar spaces, each corner of those streets filled with echoes of laughter and love. Unexpectedly, Oliver climbed up the cobbled narrow street, drawn to the viewpoint where he and Niko had shared their first intimate moment. He sat on the same stone bench, looking at the shimmering sea, and his thoughts drifted. He remembered the first time they met, that spark of attraction that had started it all when his eyes first met the stud’s emeralds hovering over the water’s surface, watching him. He remembered their nights together, filled with passion and tenderness, and how Niko’s green eyes had spent hours gazing at him with such love and devotion.

A deep ache fell over Oliver’s chest as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape. He missed Niko with an intensity that surprised him, a longing beyond physical desire. Niko had become a part of him, a source of strength and joy, and the thought of being sundered felt like losing a part of his soul. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the bench, letting the warm breeze wash over him. He thought about all the nights they had spent together, how they had clung to each other, their bodies and hearts intertwined. And then, among his thoughts, Oliver began to realize that the way he and Niko loved each other transcended reason. It was desperate, urging, necessary. Like a breath of air, a pulse of blood coursing through his veins. How could he live without breathing? How could he carry on without the beat of Niko’s heart thumping in his ear as he lay his head on the stud’s chest?

Yet, he knew, deep down, that his heart had already decided.

But now, sitting alone on that viewpoint, he couldn’t shake the feeling of doubt and fear. What if he couldn’t come back to Niko? And if he could, when? What if the distance and the demands of his family pulled them apart? The thought of losing Niko was almost unbearable, a pain that pierced his heart with cruelty, a feeling unlike any he had ever known.

As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, the sky darkened, and the stars began to appear. He remembered the magical night he and Niko spent lying over the cold sand on that island, stargazing, talking about their future and the life they desired to build together. Those dreams now seemed so fragile, painfully distant.

He couldn’t bear it anymore, and so, unbeknownst to him, Oliver’s body rose from his apathy, and he began to sprint down towards Niko’s house, an intense urgency propelling his legs to dash over the cobbled pavement, his feet barely touching the ground. And as he finally stood at Niko’s doorway, the weight of the past few days pressed heavily on his shoulders. He rang the doorbell, waiting patiently for Niko’s head to pop behind the window. After a few seconds, he heard the stud’s footsteps coming down the stairs and opened the door. Oliver leaped into his arms, and they kissed passionately.

Moments later, they were upstairs.

The warm glow of the setting sun bathed the room in soft light. Niko stood a few feet away, his eyes filled with sorrow, anger, and unspoken love. They had avoided this moment as much as they could, but now, it felt inevitable.

“Niko…” Oliver began, his voice trembling slightly.

Niko clenched his fists, trying to control his deluge of emotions. “I know,” he said, his voice strained. You’re leaving,” he acknowledged.

The air between them felt thick with unsaid words, the tension almost palpable. Oliver moved closer, his heart aching at how much he was about to renounce.

“I don’t want to go,” Oliver whispered, his eyes searching Niko’s for solace. “But I have to,” the boy stuttered. Niko’s face contorted with pain, and he turned away, eyes trembling as he faced the window, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed anger.

“This isn’t fair,” he muttered. Oliver reached out, gently touching Niko’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said, his voice breaking. “I wish…,” he stumbled as tears rolled down his cheeks. Niko turned around, the hurt in Oliver’s eyes almost unbearable to witness.

“Don’t cry,” he begged, his voice hardening. “Please, don’t cry, Ble Mou Poulí,” the stud beseeched.

A heavy silence fell over them, the only sound being the distant murmur of the sea outside. Oliver felt his tears welling up, his heart breaking for the man he loved and the circumstances pulling them apart.

“I love you, Niko,” Oliver said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much,” the boy whispered, his face clinging to Niko’s. The stud’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I know,” he said softly, his anger giving way to a deep sadness. “I love you too,” the hunk murmured.

They stood there for a moment, the world outside fading into inconsequentiality. Then, without another word, Niko finally closed the last inch of distance that separated them, pulling Oliver into a fierce embrace. Their lips met in a desperate, aching kiss, each trying to convey the depth of their love and the pain of their impending separation.

They stumbled back into the bed, their movements frantic and urgent. Clothes were carelessly discarded as they fell onto the mattress, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and sorrow.

“Niko…” Oliver moaned, his entire being craving the stud’s love, who was always two steps ahead of the boy’s needs.

“Forget everything now,” Niko groaned, his eyes glistening. “Let’s just fuck our brains out,” he growled, grabbing Oliver’s body and rolling it over. “Show me that ass,” he commanded, setting the tone for what was to come. Oliver smiled, pulling up and throwing one leg over the hunk, his face between Niko’s legs. He pulled back and saddled the hunk’s mug, shoving his smooth ass cheeks into his mouth. “That’s it, beautiful,” Niko continued, his voice steering away their worries.

Suddenly, there was nothing else, just the two of them again. Their world reverted to its essence. The stud’s hands began to slap Oliver’s ass, causing his skin to jiggle, the sound echoing inside the room.

“Fuck!” the boy moaned, throwing his head back as he felt Niko’s tongue slide inside his taint. He could feel the hunk’s thick beard chafing against his delicate skin and his tongue gliding greedily around the soft skin of his sphincter before sliding inside his warm hole. “Right there…” Oliver stammered, chuckling erotically. By now, and after all the countless hours they had spent loving each other, Niko knew all his intricacies and possessed an undeniable knowledge of his body. And every motion, every grip of the stud’s hands over him, sent shockwaves through the blonde’s body, his mind overwhelmed by ardor.

He sat on Niko, burying the stud’s face inside his crack until it disappeared, and then he began to swing his hips back and forth, feeling Niko’s tongue slide deeper and deeper. They lingered there for a few minutes, Oliver’s hands rubbing up and down his own chest, his eyes closed in complete rapture, purposely coding every inch of the hunk’s tongue into him. His hands coasted behind his neck as he kept grilling his hole into Niko’s mouth, hearing the stud’s muffled groans from under him as he munched on it. Oliver had never felt sexier. His whole body now awakened, and his spirit surrendered entirely to his sexuality. His body a conduit to its magnificence. As he finally lowered his eyes, he paused. Niko’s cock winked at him, its massive girth and wide mushroom tip fluttering as it bounced before him. Sensing this, Niko pushed Oliver’s ass away, unlocking his spit-soaked mouth.

“You wanna take care of that?” the stud teased, causing Oliver to chuckle.

“Fuck, yeah,” the boy immediately replied, diving his head into the stud’s perfectly shaped, 9-inch shaft.

Like second nature, his mouth slid down on it, swallowing almost all of it before he pulled out, hugging it with his mouth as his tongue spit-lubed it. Niko moaned, slapping the boy’s ass a couple of times before diving his mouth back inside Oliver’s hole, and soon they lay, rimming and sucking each other in a mirrored dance of passion and exploration.

On one side, Niko’s jaw danced vigorously, the sound of his tongue wiggling, escorting the most precious moans from Oliver’s mouth, who, overwhelmed by the sensation, would occasionally be forced to pull Niko’s cock out, wailing like an animal in heat. But as he dove back down, shoving the tanned hunk’s cock inside his mouth again, Niko would unlock from his ass, groaning with pleasure at the familiar yet consistently overwhelming feeling of the boy’s warm mouth wrapped around his dick, his red, plump lips stretched thin, eyes flaring and pouring tears as he shoved his hips up, forcing his cock deeper inside Oliver’s throat.

It was beautifully effortless, the dance they now commanded. So raw, so pure, so undeniably earned. They were, for lack of a better word, equals—two souls, wholly aligned and tuned with each other’s needs. And the deeper they delved into each other’s pleasure, in a way they had never done before, the more unbreakable the dome they were erecting around them became. A thick layer of light, love, and unbridled passion that lacked logic or reasoning. And that contradicted the concept of time itself.

“Oliver…” Niko moaned, his mouth barely pulling away from the boy’s crack, his words muffled by the blonde’s peach, latched to his face. But Oliver’s head kept moving, bobbing up and down frenetically. He had found his groove, and so had his mouth, every single muscle working tirelessly to suck every inch of the hunk’s meat, his lips and tongue hugging it with fierce determination. “Oliver, wait…” the stud warned again, feeling his orgasm build. But Oliver was out, his lust deaf to Niko’s words, whose eyes began to roll back.

Suddenly, he pulled his lips away, hands clutching Oliver’s waist, and in a swift move, he ripped the boy off him, throwing him across the bed. As Niko pulled up, his back hitting the bed’s headpiece, his eyes gaped, floored by what he witnessed. Oliver lay on his back, his elbows drilled into the bed, his chest moving up and down, mouth opened, lips bloated. And inside his eyes, something Niko had never seen. An instinctual creature, all desire, love, and rage. Niko had barely time to think when the boy lunged over the bed, his right arm raised in the air, ready to strike his lover. The stud’s body fired forward in time to grab Oliver’s wrist, stopping it from hitting his face. Their eyes locked, shivering. There was so much inside them, so much anger and despair. How cruel a fate, they thought. That such love wouldn’t be allowed to persist. But, then again, maybe their love couldn’t grow anymore, Niko thought as he held Oliver’s arms at bay. Perhaps it had grown as big as it could. Could it be that fate felt compelled to intervene, fearing their adoration could kill them if allowed to continue growing?

“I hate you…for making me fall in love with you,” Oliver stuttered, his clenched jaw spewing the words like splinters. “You…you should’ve let me drown that day…” the boy whimpered, his lips trembling along with his arms. Niko’s muscular arms trembled along with him, surprised by Oliver’s sudden burst of adrenaline, the boy’s strength seemingly magnified. His eyes gazed inside Oliver’s blue pool, glistening with emotion.

He wanted to comfort him and tell him that everything would be fine and that all would be alright in the end. But he just couldn’t. He loved Oliver too damn much to lie to him. So he did the only thing he could. He yanked Oliver’s arms down and pulled the boy in, bussing him passionately. Their mouths merged, their breaths firing, the sound escalating like wildfire. And from under Niko’s mouth, Oliver moaned.

“Fuck me, Niko…” the boy whimpered, his salty tears skating down his cheeks, sliding inside their mouths unceremoniously. “Fuck me hard,” he begged. “Make me forget,” he implored.

And with those words, Niko’s heart burst open again.

His hand crawled up Oliver’s back and gripped his blonde hair, pulling his neck back aggressively. The boy gasped, his eyes clamoring for the stud’s dominance. Their bodies were slowly morphing, becoming almost feline. Niko tightened his mouth and spat on Oliver’s face, who growled in satisfaction, his white teeth emerging in a lascivious smile. His body rolled like a reptile on all fours, and he began to tease Niko’s hungry cock, pushing his ass into it. Niko held his blonde curls inside his grip, forcing Oliver’s neck to arch back inhumanely as the boy mewled.

“You want this dick, you little slut? Is that it?” Niko teased, his voice sultry and disturbingly sensual. His ostensibly rough and belligerent words only seemed to fuel Oliver’s lustful fire even more.

“Fuck yes, put it in…” the boy begged, willingly and abjectly, as he wiggled his ass in front of Niko’s cock. He rubbed, hard and veiny, over the blonde’s crevice.

“Open those cheeks. Do it!” Niko ordered, pulling Oliver’s hair back with both hands as he watched his face contort with discomfort. He looked down, watching the boy’s fingers unfurl his peach, exposing his perfect pink hole, puckering eagerly.

Niko closed his eyes and let his cock slide in. It was an effortless motion, as if the veiny monster knew the way and lacked his guidance. As he pushed in, with no pause, the boy’s moan escorted his movement. As his hairy balls finally slapped against Oliver’s skin, he felt the blonde’s sphincter close in around his prick. Completely subdued by the boy’s submissiveness, Niko’s bestial nature emerged. He yanked Oliver up, his chest slapping against the boy’s back, and he began to fuck him, thrusting his pelvis forward, pushing the blonde’s hips with it. His right hand grabbed Oliver’s chin and forced his face to rotate enough for him to slide his tongue inside his mouth, trying to quell the violent wails that now erupted from the blue-eyed beauty’s mouth. And for several minutes, Niko fucked Oliver’s hole into submission while the sound of his muscular hips slapping against the boy’s sweaty cheeks reverberated across the small space. The smell became intense, the inebriating scent of Oliver’s insides mixing with the spicy musk of Niko’s sweat in a daring and magical fusion.

Oliver’s wails were now cries, the boy’s growls serving as a conduit, taming the excruciating pain he felt. And every stab of Niko’s cock inside his hole felt like a sedative, numbing his misery. The harder he cried, the harder Niko fucked him, and it wasn’t long before Oliver’s cries began to die down, his throat closing in shock at the overwhelming feeling of Niko’s savage fucking. But as his voice ceased, his body opened up, his arms crossing in front of his chest, hands gripping Niko’s arms.

“Niko…fuck…” he whimpered from the bottomless pit of pleasure he now found himself in.

“Shhh…” Niko whispered, his words being cut short by his cutthroat motions. “Just take it,” the hunk stuttered, deepening his thrusts, pressing the mushroom tip against the boy’s prostate, and finally releasing Oliver’s hair from his grip.

This caused the boy to fall forward and collapse over the mattress, ass sticking up as Niko continued to slam his hips into him. What happened next was a blur. It may have been seconds, minutes, hours, or even days as Niko stretched Oliver’s hole beyond recognition. By the time he pulled out, falling back on his knees, worn over, the boy’s hole released a loud queefing sound, spewing nothing but precum and compressed air. He fell, face forward, his entire body shivering from exhaustion. Then, he slowly rolled over, his blue eyes squinting at Niko in disbelief. The stud sat, a smirk on his eyes as he stroked his cock, which seemed insatiably famined. And for several minutes, they lingered there, gazing at each other, admiring the limits they had just shattered together—another beautiful milestone in their love.

“I’m not done with you yet…” Niko grunted, causing Oliver’s eyes to gape and his throat to chuckle nervously.

“I can’t…” the boy stuttered.

But Niko wasn’t having it. As the boy pulled back, attempting to move away, the stud slid across the bed, grabbing Oliver’s ankles and pulling him back. His muscular arms flared the blonde’s legs open, and he slid his cock back inside. Like a coordinated move, both their necks snapped back.

“Holy…” Oliver whimpered.

“Fuck…” Niko added, resuming his thrusts.

Oliver’s hands came up, covering his face as he sobbed with pleasure, his now loose hole queefing loudly every time Niko’s cock punched in and pulled out of him. Every once in a while, the boy’s fingers would grip the sheets, his arms trying to push away from the stud. But it was hopeless. Niko’s brutal force had him pinned down, subjugated to his will. The stud’s militant lovemaking and harrowing adoration for his lover’s body was a force Oliver couldn’t escape from, nor did he want to.

“Niko…” Oliver stammered, struggling to speak. “You’re loosening me up…so much…” he whispered, his mouth dangling open in awe as his eyes gaped at the stud’s. Niko’s every muscle tensed with determination, his chiseled six-pack pushing through his skin. “I’m gonna pass out…” the blonde suddenly warned.

And with those words, Niko finally slowed down. But he didn’t stop. The hunk let his body fall over Oliver, their sweaty bodies merging.

“Ble Mou Poulí…” he whispered into the boy’s mouth, sliding his tongue inside, sucking on the boy’s lips.

“Fuck…you’re wearing me out…” Oliver mumbled, his head shaking from side to side. His arms circled Niko’s back, his fingers caressing every muscle with worship. And as he did, Niko’s ass began to clench, lowering the speed of his thrusts but increasing their intensity.

Soon, they fell into a rhythm, the vigor of their coupling fueled by a need to hold onto each other, to imprint this moment in their memories. Niko’s hands roamed over Oliver’s body, his touch tender and demanding. Oliver responded with equal enthusiasm. Their breaths mingled, their hearts beating in sync. It was a connection beyond words, a raw and primal expression of their love and anguish.

“I…I don’t want to let you go,” Niko whispered against Oliver’s skin, his voice trembling.

“Then hold me, Niko…hold me tight,” Oliver replied, his hands clutching Niko’s massive back as the stud pushed his cock inside him, trying to anchor himself to the boy.

Their bodies moved together, the rhythm of their lovemaking a bittersweet symphony of desire and despair. They kissed and touched, every caress a silent promise, every kiss a solemn declaration of their love until Niko’s cock caved in, unable to withhold his profound love any longer. Slowly, he began to unload inside Oliver’s hole, prompting the boy’s pink shaft to twitch and explode under their glued abdomens. Tears mingled with their sweat, and their moans filled the small room, a testament to the depth of their feelings. And there, Niko and Oliver took their desire to the finish line under the protective guise of the yearning and passion that had become their whole world, as their spirits radiated their overwhelming light over one another.

And even after they climaxed, they kept going, their cocks refusing to give in. Their bodies unable to relinquish whatever fleeting time they had left.

Their uninhibited, raging, feral, and vulnerable moans filled that small room, engraving the melody of their undying connection on those walls for hours.

When they finally collapsed beside each other, spent and breathless, the reality of their situation came crashing down. Oliver lay with his head on Niko’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, trying to memorize the sound, the feeling, the warmth of his skin. Niko gently stroked Oliver’s hair, his touch soothing yet tinged with sadness. They said nothing. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, the exhaustion of their emotions and their bodies finally taking its toll.

What little time remained for them went by quickly, the moments of peace and closeness slipping away like sand through their fingers.

And once the first light of dawn crept into the room, Oliver woke up, a sense of dread settling over him. He looked at Niko, still asleep beside him, and felt his heart constrict with the pain of what he knew he had to do. Gently, he disentangled himself from his lover’s embrace, trying not to wake him. He dressed quietly, every movement feeling like a betrayal. He paused at the door, looking back at Niko one last time, his heart heavy with love and woe. And with one final, lingering glance, he turned and walked out of the room, his steps heavy with the weight of his decision. As he closed the door behind him, the reality of his departure hit him with full force.

The walk back to the hotel was a blur of sentiments. His mind replayed every moment of the past few weeks with Niko as he slowly packed his bags. He knew he was making the right decision for his family and mother. But it didn’t make leaving any less painful. Along with Niko, his hopes and dreams felt like leaves being scattered to the wind. He was returning to a world of responsibilities and uncertainties, leaving behind the promise of love and the life he had found there. A place he felt he belonged to.

That morning, the atmosphere over Paros starkly contrasted with the storm of emotions brewing inside Oliver. The bright sun and clear blue skies seemed almost mocking as they drove to the pier, where a transfer boat waited to sail them back to the airport. They barely spoke, the gravity of the situation rendering words unnecessary. Both Sophia and Jason held Oliver’s hands tightly, offering silent support.

As they arrived at the pier, Oliver lingered near the boat’s edge while John carried Rafaella inside. Chiara and Nate followed. Sophia hopped inside, and suddenly, Jason paused, his eyes on Oliver.

“Ollie…?” he uttered, sensing his friend’s unease. The blonde’s gaze was locked on the stone wall just over the road leading to the dock, his expression taken over by a tamed hopefulness. “We have to go,” Jason added.

“Yeah…I know,” Oliver mumbled as his blue jewels scoured the distance.

If only, he thought, before turning around and climbing inside, the motors already running as the boat slowly pulled away. And finally, the blonde’s eyes descended to the floor, defeated. He took a deep breath, feeling the sea breeze brushing his lungs.

And it was then, as he finally exhaled, that he heard the scooter. His eyes flung up, gaping with surprise. Niko drove down the dock, his right hand waving desperately.

“Wait! Oliver, wait!” the stud yelled from afar. Oliver’s head began to dart around, distress taking hold as he realized the boat was floating off. So he stepped back and ran to the edge, jumping into the cold water below.

“Ollie!” Sophia yelled, prompting a sudden commotion inside the deck.

As the blonde’s hea broke the surface, his soaked hair swinging, he swam to the shore, climbing the metal grid into the wooden pier, and rushed for Niko’s arms, already opened to receive them.

“Niko…” Oliver stuttered, his voice falling into despair as their lips merged in a fervent kiss—tears mixed with saltwater merging as Oliver sobbed, his wails an entangled cacophony of happiness and suffering.

“Don’t cry, Ble Mou Poulí…” Niko whispered into the blonde’s skin, their tears merging as their faces rubbed together frantically. Oliver felt his throat tighten.

“Why did you…why did you come back…?” Oliver whimpered, feeling the last shred of strength leave him.

And then, it happened.

Niko held Oliver’s face in his hands, his beautiful emerald eyes diving inside the boy’s blue lagoon, and he smiled, pulling him in.

“Because…I didn’t say what I should have said…” Niko uttered.

“What…?” Oliver mumbled as he felt Niko’s mouth close in.

And as the stud’s lips slowly and gently touched Oliver’s ear, he whispered something. Words that would, from that day on, forever be lost to that moment, stowed inside Oliver’s heart like a treasure.

In the distance, inside the boat, Sophia watched, eyes glistening with emotion.

“What do you think he’s saying to him?” she sobbed.

“I don’t know…” Jason whispered, trying to cage his own feelings. “Probably something only Oliver’s meant to hear,” Jason replied. “Something only he’ll understand…” he whispered, almost to himself.

And how right he was.

Oliver wept as Niko’s words drilled into his consciousness. But his tears were nuanced now, no longer overpowered by sadness. There was also joy in them and hope. That foreign, mysterious young man, who had crossed Oliver’s path for whatever reason, had managed to weave himself into his spirit and become part of the rich tapestry that composed the boy’s soul. A sharp, unexpected puncture in his heart that would forever leave it open, bleeding desire, pleasure, and overwhelming longing.

With a last, lingering kiss, they finally parted. By now, the boat had turned around and was docking near the pier, so Oliver dragged himself back and stood on the deck, a large towel wrapped around his soaked body as he watched Niko’s scooter slowly disappear from view.

He glazed his tongue over his lips, still able to feel Niko’s taste in his mouth, and smiled.

 

*

 

(26 years later, Sag Harbor, Long Island, N.Y.)

Elijah’s stunning, youthful body stirred awake as the first light of dawn seeped through the curtains of his room, casting a soft glow over the familiar surroundings. The beach house in Sag Harbor, Long Island, had been his home for as long as he could remember, loaded with remembrances and echoes of the past. Today, however, was a particularly special day: his father, Oliver Preston, was celebrating his 44th birthday.

The boy stretched his smooth body and sat in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was a young man, fresh off his 18th birthday, with striking features—the spitting image of his father in his youth—sunny blonde curls, turquoise eyes, and the most flawless physique—a tall, smooth body of pale, snow-white, velvety skin.

Rising to his feet, Elijah padded down the hallway to the kitchen, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him. He poured himself a cup and leaned against the counter, savoring the peacefulness of the morning as his blue gaze scoured the large window over the sink, facing the most luscious garden. It was still early, and the house was bathed in the most glorious golden sunrise hues.

Birthdays were always bittersweet for his father, usually sprinkled with a tinge of melancholy. Oliver’s journey from that fateful morning in Paros, which Elijah knew nothing about, to this particular day had been long and winding, marked by love. But also loss and remarkable resilience. The boy knew today would be a day of contemplation as much as a celebration.

The blonde beauty idled around the house, tidying up and preparing for Sophia and Jason’s arrival. His aunt, her long-time partner, and their two children had been constants in his life, and their presence was a comforting reminder of the enduring bonds of family. And being the only son of a single parent, Elijah had always relied on his father’s close-knit clan for support. As he walked by the living room, holding the scorching cup of coffee in his hand, he noticed the record player and the vast array of Vinyls, among which stood the collection of the only four official studio records by the England-based band, The Smiths. They were heirlooms passed down through generations and held a special place in their family’s hearts, especially Oliver’s. The boy sat on the ground and let his fingers glide over them, humming a soft, familiar melody. Like his father, music had always been a way for him to connect with his emotions and express what words often couldn’t.

Lost in his thoughts, Elijah failed to hear the front door open. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he looked up, startled. Jason stood there, smiling warmly.

“Hey, kid,” Jason greeted, smiling. Elijah jumped up clumsily, dropping the vinyl on the ground.

“Uncle Jason!” the boy hollered, leaping into his uncle’s arms, wrapping his around his neck. Jason’s hands locked behind the boy’s back, brushing his soft skin.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like looking at one of Ollie’s old pictures,” Jason commented as he pulled back, his eyes mesmerized by Elijah’s alluring figure and resemblance to his long-time friend.

“I’d say he’s prettier, if that’s even possible,” Sophia’s voice spoke from the living room’s doorway. She stood there leaning against it, her eyes twinkling at the boy. “Where’s your father?” she questioned.

“I haven’t seen him yet. But probably locked inside the annex,” the boy replied casually. “You know how he gets this time of the year,” he added, prompting Jason and Sophia to share a complicit look. “Where’s Alex and Charlotte?” he questioned, eyes scouring the main gate past the lush grassland. Elijah’s cousins were the closest friendships in his life.

“They’re driving back tomorrow. I asked them to pick my parents up on their way here,” Sophia explained. Elijah’s eyes lingered on his aunt before they fled to the fifty square meter annex further down the house, coasting on the edge of the most beautiful, deserted beach.

“So…is he coming?” Sophia teased, prompting Elijah to chuckle.

“I’ll go get him…” the boy replied, graciously walking down the grassy incline towards the annex, stirring his body from side to side in an effortless dance.

As he reached the door, his hand came up and knocked gently on it. Twice.

“Dad, can I come in?” Elijah announced, peeking inside slowly.

The lights were down, and only the morning rays coated the room with the most glorious golden glow. It was a considerable, ample living room exuding a man cave energy, with a bar, a large sofa in front of a window facing the beach, an ample coffee table, and a round bowl full of weed.

A few seconds passed before Oliver’s voice replied from behind the couch, his body concealed from view. Its vitality and cleanliness were gone, giving way to a mature, seasoned, and slightly husky tone.

“Hey, bud,” he answered.

Elijah walked up to his father, standing before him, inadvertently blocking the light. Oliver lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of tight undies, his feet over the table, and one of his hands lifted as he held a joint between his fingers. He was still beautiful, his otherworldly charm matured, and although his skin had aged and his hairline had receded slightly, his turquoise gaze lacked none of his former vibrancy. As his eyes locked on his son, he smiled, using his left hand to call the boy over. Elijah smiled back and rushed forward, crawling onto the oversized couch and nestling himself inside his father’s arms. His head immediately fell over Oliver’s chest. It was, by far, Elijah’s favorite place—a river of peace, tranquility, and protection where he bathed regularly.

“Uncle Jason and Aunt Sophia are here,” he informed. Oliver didn’t react, but Elijah could hear his lips sucking on the joint, his chest exhaling as he puffed a cloud of smoke over them. “Are you okay?” the boy asked.

“I am now,” Oliver replied, tightening his grip around his son. His fingers dipped inside the boy’s blonde silky hair, gently brushing his scalp.

“What about your cousins?” Oliver asked, his eyes scanning the sea line.

“Tomorrow,” Elijah replied.

“Okay,” Oliver uttered, pausing. “Where’s…hum…what’s his name again?” he questioned. Under him, Elijah rolled his eyes, trying to cage his laughter.

“Austin,” he mumbled.

“Right,” Oliver immediately replied. There was a brief silence before they both chuckled.

“He’s…not coming,” the boy stated, visibly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Did you get into a fight?” Oliver asked, his protective, caring nature pushing through his apathy.

There was a brief silence.

“We broke up,” Elijah informed, his voice falling into a shallow sadness.

“Why?” Oliver questioned, his fingers still dipped inside his son’s hair.

“I don’t know. I just…wasn’t feeling it,” Elijah endeavored to explain.

“I see,” Oliver replied, his eyes glancing down at his son, trying to catch his expression. But the blonde’s face was obscured, his hand already going for his pocket, pulling out his phone. He started casually strolling through his social media.

“Can you, for once, put that thing down and finish a conversation,” Oliver scolded, fidgeting in his seat.

“Jesus…fine,” Elijah muttered, annoyed. Yet, like a child would do, his body seemed to follow Oliver’s every move, constantly adjusting himself inside his father’s embrace. “Dad…?” he whispered.

“Yeah, bud?” Oliver replied, his words soft and tender.

“What’s it like…being in love?” Elijah stuttered, a particular embarrassment attached to the question.

“You’ve never been in love?” Oliver asked, surprised. He could feel his son’s head shaking over his chest. “What about Austin?” he playfully provoked.

“Oh, I don’t think I love him…” Elijah replied. “I mean, I love his…” he added before Oliver cut him off.

“Right, okay. I get it, Elijah,” he interrupted, chuckling nervously. Their relationship was very close-knit, and Oliver would frequently find himself having to tote the line, adjusting it between comfortable and respectful.

“There are different kinds of love…and…you don’t love everyone the same way, ” Oliver stated, trying to juggle his son’s tricky query.

“Yeah, I know…but I’m talking about that crazy, out-of-body, over-the-top kinda feeling…” Elijah described, his voice lagging as he tried to find the words. “…the butterflies on your stomach, the…”fuck everything” kinda love, you know?” he asked. “Man, I wanna feel that,” the boy exclaimed, exhaling deeply with ease. There was a brief silence before a soft, endeared chuckle broke from Oliver’s mouth.

“You will, someday,” the blonde stud stated with conviction.

“Did you ever feel that?” Elijah challenged, prompting a deep silence to take hold. “Dad…?” the boy pressed, his neck bending as he glanced up at his father, whose eyes were latched on the large window before them, a profound melancholy taking them hostage.

A stillness anchored the room, with only Oliver’s resounding breaths filling the space.

“I did, once,” Oliver’s voice finally replied. “A long time ago…” he whispered, his words suddenly whisked away by deep-seated memories.

Into a secret world. Entirely his own.

(To be continued…)