A Submissive little boy : ch 4
The night air was damp as I walked the street to the corner bar. A light mist sprayed from the sky and rested on my cheeks cooling them. There was general feeling of overheating in me. Unknown sensations welled up from deep within me. There was a feeling that I was almost not real, but watching myself, and it was uncomfortable. I needed something to drink to bring me down to quiet and calm.
The Strand's juke twanged away the steel guitar of some long gone classic. I opened the door and a rush of air blew out as if to welcome me and then drew me in. Being only about midnight, more than a few patrons lined the bar and the bartender, a new guy I had never seen before, was watching a hockey game with the sound turned off.
I found myself wishing that I had asked Tom to call up here and have them let me buy some booze. Could he really do that? I supposed not. He was just a guy that came in and boozed it up like the rest of these guys, but his chances were better than mine.
Gathering up my courage I tried to look as old as I could and with an air of disinterest wandered up to the bar.
A line of sodden heads stared at the TV screen where a tall thin player was weaving his way through center ice. He zigged past one defenseman and was about to make his way to freedom when out of nowhere an opponent slammed into him sending him reeling, separating him from the puck and his senses. The men in the bar cheered over loud with the excitement of inebriation.
I waited until what seemed like a lull in the action and using my loudest voice told the bartender I wanted a couple sixes of beer.
You got any ID on you?" he said looking me over.
"I left it at the house. I come in here all the time could you just get it for me?" I pleaded.
"Sorry bud. Can't do. We just had a liquor control guy in here a couple nights ago."
He seemed genuinely sorry, but I could tell that he wasn't going to get served that night. An evil little thought brewed up inside of me. I should lean over and whisper in his ear that I would suck his cock if he let me buy some.
The idea was quickly discarded out of fear, discretion and a sense of disgust with myself. I wasn't really going to ask that I told myself and laughed it off.
I went back out into the night. It wasn't far to my place from here I could turn down the road that led directly to the campus proper or I could follow Vine street which ran parallel and was more residential. There was no hurry to get home and more relaxing feel of this area suited me far more than the hectic party scene down by the dorms so I walked on into the darkness.
The mood of this night suited me. There was the need for some looking inside of myself. For the most part I still desperately wanted to be attracted to girls and not have sex with men; to just be like other people. And I was. I mean when the cheerleaders walked by I looked just like all of the other guys, but you wouldn't be able to tell that my sexual experiences since arriving at college.
Block after block passed and I shortly realized that if I didn't turn back toward campus soon that I would pass it altogether and be lost in the middle of the night or at the very least have to retrace my steps. I turned left down a rather wide alleyway. Dumpsters and carports lined either side.
I suppose that I should have been more nervous being that I was in a decent sized city wandering at night in unknown territory, but it seemed that the night itself was protecting me.
The alley let out back on the main strip but much further down town than I had walked before. To my left would be the dorms and home, but across the street on the far corner was a joint with some bright music playing. The door was open and a few guys were standing out front messing around. The sign above the entrance said Cloud Two. By the neon lights all over the windows I assumed it was a bar and figured I might as well take another shot at getting some brews.
The place was packed with people. On the left hand wall was a long bar backed by a mirror the entire length. Ten or so tables formed in a semi-circle around a dance floor only 20 feet square. A small disco ball hung in the center and grebe and blue strobe gave the place a very surreal feel.
My plan of action this time was to actually just hang at the pace a while, drinking a few there. If I tipped well, hopefully I could grab a six to bring home where I could zone out to my thoughts a bit.
The lights and the dancing was hypnotic, which may have caused me to be more natural when I went to get a drink, or they just didn't care here. Either way in short order, I found myself at a small table alone. I sipped the first drink then followed it up with a second and third.
It was very comfortable there for me. The hyperdrone beat glazed me into a welcome trance. Now I could collect my thoughts and put them in some sort of order. The whole thing was so chaotic. The touchstones I my mind: The boy jacking on the couch; the encounter in the video booth, a surprise with Tom and then again on my knees in what I had to admit to myself was not really a shock.
I had set myself up by going back in there. My thoughts returned to the feeling of trepidation I had felt before going to work that night. Wasn't it in fact rather a feeling of overexcitement that I could hardly bear? I had chosen to go into the back where access to me without the knowledge of my co-workers would be the easiest and had stayed there when clearly finished until I was "discovered".
There was also the old man on the phone and this group of "friends". With all of the sex going on I really hadn't had time to think much about it. It simply didn't seem possible that there was a real person expecting me to meet him at a hotel for what certainly would be sexual favors.
"Break me in," Tom had said and that last little parting shot before I left. There was definitely something about the penis that attracted me. It was undeniable. If not my reaction should certainly have been much different. The image of his cock bouncing in front of my eyes after he had deposited his seed tonight flipped to the front of my mind and I tried to hold it there consciously.
Yes, there was no doubt that I was held in a sort of thrall. Even now there was a growing sensation in my jeans.
Was I really that way though? Couldn't it still at this stage just be a sort of wild experimentation stage before I started to engage in a normal sex life with a girl?
I tried to picture the cock slipping back into my mouth, but I lost it. That was proof right there wasn't it? If I was a flaming homo wouldn't I be able to hold onto that image and take the fantasy further? Wasn't there some inner quality of me that all of these actions of late didn't jive with?
My mouth, yes, I could admit I liked that feeling when he filled my mouth, but maybe that was just trying a new thing. I couldn't let a man take me from behind or that would really ice it. If I let him "break me in" then I would lose control of the whole situation and there would be no going back.
The whole fear it seemed to me to be that I was losing control of the situation; that whether I really wanted it or not I was being drawn into this world of sex with men. I wanted to have the ability put a stop to it and be the determiner of my own fate.
Right then and there made my own decision. This was my life and I was going to live it the way that I wanted.
I would down a couple beers here quick and then go home with a couple sixes and get good and slammed, "forget" to wake and go meet the man at the hotel and just cut all ties with Tom. Next weekend I would go up on the hill to the fraternities and just talk to every drunk girl I could until one let me have sex with her and I would just bury all this somewhere inside of me.
At this point no one knew.
I looked around the room for some girl that was maybe unattached. Heck, it was close to last call by now anyways. Maybe I could grab one of them here and take her back to my empty place.
First I scanned the tables around me. Only a couple still had people at them. All of which were guys of either college age or a little bit older. I turned back to the bar and looked down the long row. Probably about 5 dudes were left hanging out there.
Finally, I scanned the dancers. The glaring lights and smoky atmosphere had somewhat blurred them into the background of my vision. There were about six forms out there bouncing around. All of them guys.
Men were dancing with men and two were wrapped in an embrace that could not be confused with anything else. Not only were there no girls here now. It came to me that there never were any at all.
There wasn't even time for that to register when the bartender walked by my table.
"Hey you last call," he said.
I looked directly over but hadn't raised my eyes yet so I stared right at his crotch. Why did I keep doing that? I bit my lip in embarrassment and looked up at him.
"Thanks," I said.
He went on to the other tables and then the dance floor before passing me again as he returned. I pretended not to pay any attention to him, but I got one more quick little view of his crotch right before he headed back to the bar. I could swear I could make it out.
Well, I didn't have time really to ponder anything if I was to get some for the road. So I quickly got up and followed him to the bar and asked for a couple sixes.
There wasn't any sort of acknowledgement that I had just been looking at him down there. Probably this was the sort of place that happened all the time. He just grabbed some out of the cooler, bagged it up and I was on my way.
The night had cleared up and the streets were pretty bare. It was a Sunday night after all I guess so not as many people were out. I didn't care my Monday classes were easy anyways and I wasn't really feeling school all that much lately.
I got to my room with no problems from the guard at the desk and settled down slamming a few beers quickly. Tonight I was going to get good and messed up. I just wanted to stop my mind for a bit. The music was kept low; the TV on some obscure music video channel with no sound on. I dropped towards oblivion
When a video with an attractive woman would come on I would rub myself through my pants and just stare at here, keeping my mind totally devoid of any active thought. It occurred to me that I was trying to program myself.
I dipped deeper and deeper into a state of intoxication. My clothes had been shed and know I was stroking myself slowly with every girl trying to imprint their curves into my psyche. Between songs or when it was a different kind of act I would lurk about the room looking for something there was something missing.
On a longer one of these breaks I was going through my closet and found something. It wasn't certain that it was the "something" that was missing, and it wasn't what I wanted to be the "something", but I found it nevertheless.
A while back I had been taking a shower in the public restroom that we all shared on the floor and I had noticed that someone had left behind a shampoo bottle. It wasn't really all that different than any other of the same that you may have seen, but there is one thing about most shampoo bottles that this one wasn't.
Your typical shower kit for traveling has this tiny bottle of shampoo in it. About 3 inches in length and quite thin. More often than not it is an oblong shape laterally instead of a circle. The normal bottle that a person would buy for general use is much larger about 10 inches or so long and, while round, at least a couple inches in diameter.
This particular bottle, for it is the bottle itself that was unique not the liquid inside, was about seven inches long and about an inch and a half thick. My first thought when I saw it was to pick it up and compare it to my penis. It won by a small margin, but one could certainly see it as a possible replacement. When compared to the organ of the boy I saw masturbating, for example, it would have been slightly lacking.
For whatever reason, perhaps fate, I had collected the bottle and it now lay on my shelf with other toiletries. I brought it back to the chair I had rested in all night, took a deep drag on one of my remaining beers and reposed, legs spread out in front of me.
I rubbed dildo, I had started to think of it as that, on my belly back and forth. The plastic material was cool to the touch and as it ran along my skin it seemed to raise goosebumps, which receded shortly after it had passed.
My chin rested on my chest so my field of vision was the rolling placebo in the foreground, then my very real life tool still erect and throbbing from much use and no release, and then the television screen framed on either side by my bare feet.
The lady on the screen came into focus; more a young girl really than a lady, fresh and sweet. She pranced around delicately.
This was the one!
I lurched forward quickly bringing myself to my knees, moved my hand down into position and vigorously started working my shaft. She turned away from me and bent, arching her back and looking back with a coquettish smile.
I worked hard, in almost a state of panic. The video could end at any minute. It had to be now. This would free me from the spell. My eyes moved from the screen down to my furious pumping, cock lost in the blur of my fist. It was inconceivable. I had been building myself up for so long. Normally just a few second of this and I was over the edge.
The song seemed to be winding down. The girl was waving goodbye to me. There had to be something.
Without thinking I reached down with my left hand and found the bottle, brought it up to my mouth and started shoving it in and out like Tom had done earlier that night. It seemed days ago but it was just that night. The girl on the screened winked off.
The song over, I closed my eyes literally fucking my hand now and blew all over. Five, Six, Seven shots. Each one accompanied by a deep groan from the depths of me. So loud and only stifled by the bottle (dildo ~ cock) in my mouth. There was no concern for anyone hearing or thoughts of what I was doing at all, just sheer ecstasy. My body wracked and then, spent, I fell to the floor, mouth still full and crashed into a deep sleep.
--
A gentle breeze whispered over my body, moving the soft light brown hairs on my arms and legs back and forth. The sun's warmth soaked into my skin and the bones beneath invigorating me and at the same time soothing me into a deep state of relaxation. The lids of my eyes were weighted shut so utter was the tranquility of my nature.
Immunity to furrowed brows, clenched shoulders and rigid counterfeit grins was granted as I lay back on the chaise lounger, supported just properly to a point where I was almost floating on its surface.
A voice echoed in the distance of my daze, but was brought into focus as my consciousness returned.
"Sir..."
"Sir, you had asked for a towel?"
I breathed deeply and slowly took in my surroundings as my eyes opened. A few steps in front of me was a pool, which seemed to have no edge as it met the horizon. It was as if when you entered the pool you would naturally be drawn right over the edge. It was backed by a deep forest, viewed from an angle high above. There was the quality of floating on a cloud
"Sir?"
A man stood on my left side, in his hands, a large white fluffy towel. He held the towel level with his firm tight abdomen. Beneath that he wore no clothes at all and between his legs was the largest flaccid penis. It was more robust than most men at full mast, but hung loose until it flared widely at the tip. On either side were 2 very healthy testes the size of small eggs, which would rise up a bit on certain words he spoke.
"Sorry if I woke you, Sir," He said in a smooth voice, "but you had asked for it special."
I raised my hand slowly up until I touched him. My fingers brushed up behind his glans and the whole long snake jumped. I slid up the shaft to the waiting balls and cupped one then the other, gently pulling them down with my fingers in a sort of milking motion. The healthy member jumped again and started every so slightly to straighten.
From underneath I delicately ran my fingers up behind his precious sack of jewels and worked them around to the front. Slipping them through the soft patch of fur. The giant love tool came to life just a tiny bit more, not hanging but arching out like the branches of a willow.
My fingertips traced the outline of his shaft, slipping over the veiny bumps, trying to read the secret Braille of this life-giving tool.
His excitement mounted and it pointed nearly straight out at me, beckoning my assistance. I had awoken it and now it was my responsibility. I sat up turning sideway and faced him. My left hand moved back to massage his so heavy, so full balls. My right worked underhanded along the bottom of his shaft and caressing the tip.
My lips pursed, hovering inches from the eye of this monster. I blew upon it lightly and then began to stretch my tongue out toward the entrance. When only the barest fragment of space intervened between the two I squeezed gently with my left hand willing the release of some of what was to cum.
A single droplet appeared at the tip, so close to my eyes that I could cherish the wetness fully. A tiny clear bubble grew slowly and then replacing the pure clarity were tiny white streams. They pushed at the edges forcing the drop to grow until it seemed it would burst.
My tongue touched the edge ever so slightly and for a second they were apart. Then the flow started. A tiny rivulet of fragrant precum roiled down its base. Another gentle tug on the balls and more the river was refreshed. I went for a selfish third try but alas there was none. I would have to work in earnest now.
My right hand gripped the shaft, the tips of my fingers barely touching on the other side. I started to pull back and forth, mouth agape like a trout. Then I took him in my mouth. There seemed to be too much to fit, but my mouth magically spread apart to accept this loving gift.
Down I went until the entire fastness that was my mouth was full the whole way to the palate.
It was not enough though. I wanted more. A deep need inside of me drove me deeper and the head of his cock, the thickness of which had to dwarf my gullet's by nearly an inch, slipped down into my throat and beyond, traversing the virginal depths deeper and deeper within me until it reached my heart.
There was no further motion. I was there, hands limply at my sides. His whole length buried to the depth within me, nostrils taking in his musky odor, which marked me as his.
He started to pulse. His heavy hanging jewels rose up with every tumult. As the sweet cum roared down, his manly tool grew and stretched me, filling the empty spaces within.
I looked up past the flat stomach and defined chest, up into his eyes. He stared down on me, temporarily released from the bondage of self; for a single moment on the panes of eternity. His bright smile a beacon of spirit shining upon me.
Then suddenly all changed right before my very eyes. The cock shriveled down to the size of a mortal man. My mouth held the taste of his seed heavily. It seemed to slip out my very pores. My face smelled heavily of crotch. The flat chiseled belly grew into that of a middle-aged man's beer gut. The face now obscured by the girth turned into that of my boss. His big cheesy knowing grin looked down.
"Thanks, faggot," he said and then pulled out.
Off in the distance a phone began to ring...
--
My return to consciousness was a sharp one. I still lay thereon the floor of my room. The video channel played on and the dildo-bottle lay on the floor in front of me in a puddle of drool.
The phone rang and rang and rang. It jangled my every nerve. I suppressed the urge to just run over and beat it to dust, more from the fact that running seemed literally impossible in my current state than any concern for he instrument of my torture.
I took a few deep breaths and slowly got to my feet. My body seemed to move back and forth to my heavy heartbeat.
Even though I knew perfectly well where the phone was I kind of wandered about the room as if in search of it. Looking first over at my bed and then back on the desk where I had three remaining beers. I contemplated them for a minute and decided that I might actually be able to speak if I had one so I cracked it and tried to chug it.
Big mistake. I retched and almost lost it all over the floor, but after I recovered I took a few smaller swigs, which stayed down all right. My clothes were still gone of course, but I looked at myself to make sure. Down on my one thigh was a big wet spot. I must have been leaking like mad in that dream.
Damn what a dream. Never had one like that before.
Reaching down my finger pooled around in the wetness. I brought it up to inspect it and then gave it a lick. It tasted good so I went back and got the rest.
Then finally I answered the phone.
It had rung like a million times since I got up and only one person would likely do that. Looking back now I think that maybe if I hadn't taken that drink or tasted my juice things might have ended up much different. You never know about those things really. Maybe it is all fate and you don't have a choice I don't know, but for me it went this way.
"Hello," I said into the phone groggily.
"Hey. Where are you?" It was Tom, of course and he sounded kind of gruff. It occurred to me that since he had called me he knew perfectly well where I was, but I didn't say anything.
"Do you know what time it is?" The voice asked.
"Umm well, no, I mean Yeah," looking at the clock by the bed, "it's two-thirty. Oh shit. Yeah I know. Right. Yeah I said so."
I'm leaving out all of what he said because it was a bunch of stupid shit I didn't remember anyways. Bottom line is he was mad because I had missed my date and that the guy was gonna head over and pick me up at the dorm in like 5 minutes so throw some clothes on and go out to meet him.
No it didn't matter that I was hungover and looked like shit I could take care of everything later. He said something about the track, but I wasn't paying attention.
Just then the buzzer thing on my door went off. I totally picked the wrong morning to have my head like this. The intercom was even worse than the phone. I just hug up on Tom and answered it.
"Hello"
"Hi there is a Milton Silver here to see you," it was the security guard, probably mad that someone had woken him up.
"OK yeah. Umm. Just tell him wait a couple minutes I'll be right down."
I kind of cleaned myself up quick threw on some aftershave that I had and fresh jeans and shirt and headed out.
This whole time I had not even considered not going. I am not sure why. There was no reflection about what I was getting myself into, nothing at all, Actually I was kind of looking forward to it because this Milton guy for some reason I had him pegged as a drinker and lately I had been dipping in the sauce quite a bit.
I got down to the entrance and waved thanks to the guard, looking around for my ride. He wasn't hard to spot. About 5'10, light build. He had an angular face, black hair peppered on the sides with gray. He wore light dress pants and shirt and a black blazer. If you made me sum it up you would it would be something like Dracula meets Miami Vice. It worked for him though.
He was talking on a phone. It was still rather rare at a that point to see someone on a mobile and it wasn't one of those big boxlike ones so he had to be doing pretty well for himself
We met and he smiled, leading me to a black luxury sedan. I half expected him to have a chauffer, but he was driving himself.
"Hello, I am Milton Silver." He addressed himself formally.
"I'm John." I didn't.
"I figured I would take you out to my place for a bit and then we could go out to the track, the company has a box out there."
"That's cool. Sorry Tom called me I kind of slept in." I apologized.
"Yeah, he told me that you went out last night and got yourself tight." He reached into the console and produced a silver flask. "Here help yourself."
I accepted it, removing the cap and sniffing. Some sort of whiskey I supposed. I tilted back the flask and took a belt.
"Go on, go on. Take the edge off, you want to enjoy yourself", he prodded.
It was kind of an obvious attempt, but I didn't mind and I took a big gulp, swallowed it and quickly took another small hit off the bottle before restoring the cap. The familiar calm washed over me and my jangled nerves were silenced.
He drove on in silence for a while as we left the city and slipped into the countryside. It was nice being out of the bustle of town for once. Reminded me a little of home. A quick thought came over me about what my parents or people back home might think if they knew I was in this car under these pretenses and I took another heavy belt from the flask which took me from taking the edge of to a full blown glow.
I looked over at Milt and he was already looking at me smiling.
"You know you were a naughty boy leaving me hanging back there you know, John. Milton admonished. "It's ok though. You will make it up to me."
He took my left hand in his right and placed it on his lap.
My palm landed on his thigh but missed any special part, only the tip of my finger brushed every so lightly. I held still for a second and then started exploring, just keeping my hand flat and moving slowly down to the center where his bulge lived.
Shifting around in his seat to get more comfortable, the man old enough to be my father eased the power seat back, reached over again this time collecting not my hand but the top of my head. He matted the my hair lightly into his fist and gently pulled me down towards him, only when I resisted ever so slightly did he use force, shoving my face into his groin.
"Lick."
It was a command not from the soft gentle voice he had been using, but of one long used to getting his way in boardrooms.
I started licking his pants, which were made of a sort of silk. My tongue found his cock, slightly stiffening but not yet hard. My tongue went right to the head, the most sensitive part. I wanted him to get hard and horny and free himself so I could taste his flesh.
But, he was a practiced master of even his own obsessions. Through a simple force of will he kept himself from getting fully erect, making me work for it. I would lick and kiss him, making little cooing sounds like I was really getting into it. The truth was I really did get into it and I think he knew that.
He drove on for probably ten minutes like that, my face in his crotch and his hand holding my head down. Through careful maneuvering I had managed to work the head of his cock into my mouth so it as like I was giving him a very short blowjob through his slacks, but I could never get enough depth.
Just then the car started to slow down. I filled with anticipation thinking perhaps Milton had decided it was too much for him and he was pulling off the side of the road for a full on blowjob. To be honest, I was really looking forward to it. At first I hadn't really cared, but after spending the last bit of time in his lap I was turning into a cock hungry slut.
He pulled the car over and we went over a small bump. Curious, I tried to lift my head to see where we were, but Milton held my still.
"Don't stop," he ordered.
I went back to sucking on his head like before when the car stopped entirely. We sat there idling for a couple minutes and then he pulled forward about ten feet and stopped again.
What was he doing?
His breathing was getting noticeably heavier so I knew that he was really getting into it, but what exactly "it" was I had no real idea.
The car pulled forward and then stopped again. The sound of a power window being lowered froze me for a second, but a squeeze on my hair and I resumed my tiny sucks.
"Good day, Mr. Silver, how may I help you today?" Asked a cheery feminine voice.
"Just a deposit my dear. One Second." He said, "John, my dear, would you be so kind as to grab the deposit from the glove box. It is all ready."
Then he lifted me off his lap and motioned to the compartment.
I reached over, opened it, pulling out the only envelope it contained and handed it to Milt, but he motioned me away.
"You may hand it to her." He said.
There was nothing else to do so I reached over him and out the window to a smiling girl who was maybe in her early twenties, pretty with curly blond hair.
"Thank you. I will have the receipt in a sec.", she said taking the deposit.
Before she could turn away, Mr. Silver took me by the hair again and pushed me back down onto his crotch. For the second before I disappeared a look of shock came over my face and then I was gone from view.
His cock was rigid against my cheek where I rested a second before rubbing my lips up and down the shaft over and over.
"Thank you. Here is your receipt Mr. Silver. You have a good day now," said the pretty bank teller. Then she giggled.
The power window rolled back up and we drove off but just before we were out of earshot I heard "Oh my God..."
I flushed with shame, but at the same time a kind of excitement came over me.
"Well young John. You seem to work down there rather well, but we will see. I need to know now before I let you suck my cock. Are you willing to please me and my cock, in any manner I wish, wherever, and whenever I wish?"
I paused not knowing what to do.
"Answer John," he ordered
"Anywhere? Anytime?" I asked.
"Yes John, Anytime, anywhere, without question, you will be my sexual servant and may help with a few other things. You will get in return the understanding of the meaning of your life." He continued, "Answer John. Answer me now. Yes or No."
It all passed through my head so fast. I wasn't ready to make a decision like this. Why would I want to? And yet here I was my head in his lap willingly. I had not resisted where other men would have fought. Maybe I wasn't really a man in that sense. It was too much.
"OK, John I guess not I will take you home." he said, pulling me off his crotch and releasing my hair.
"Yes," I said meekly
"What John? I could not hear you? And call me Sir I am your better."
"Yes Sir. I will do it." My words came out practically on their own.
"Say out loud exactly what you will do and give me your word. Your word is your bond." He stated.
"I will please your cock whenever you want, where and how you want." I said, quickly adding "Sir".
"Give your word, John." He said waiting.
"I give my word." I said with finality.
"Fair enough now you may suck my cock. We have about 10 minutes until we get to the house. Do not bring me to orgasm before we arrive." He ordered. "Understood?"
"Yes Sir"
I waited for his hand to pull me back down, but realized obedience was simply accepted now. Bending over him I reached down and undid the buttons of his fly, slipping my hand inside. He was wearing boxers and I fished around for the hole, finally getting a hold and slipped him right out through.
Some men look older and some younger than their age. It seems to be the same way with penises. When a guy gets older sometimes his penis isn't as reactive or wont get quite as hard, but Mr. Silver's wasn't like that at all. I bet in a blind taste test between his cock and a young man's you would have a hard time telling which was whose.
Between all of my work prior, the public activity and the addition of a new boy he was trying for the first time, Milt's hilt was rock hard at full mast. It had been too much for me the waiting, the second my lips touched the head of his cock I dove deep down, needing for feel the length of him.
Unlike the fantasy state of the dream where I took the monster cock the whole ay to my belly, reality told me a different story and I gagged heavily almost losing it in his lap. I thought he would admonish me, but he let me play the fool this time.
Now more slowly up and down the length I worked into a rhythm concentrating mostly on the first few inches of what was a average or slightly better cock, keeping the helmet in my mouth the whole time, just working with my lips.
Sometimes I would get to fast, making him get too close, and he would hold my head and direct me to a much slower speed. Two or three seconds up and then the same back down again. Before long I would be up to the speed I wanted to go. My body's natural rate of sucking that would get me the seed I craved. After a few times of this, he pulled my mouth completely off.
"Be careful, Son. Your job is to suck my cock, not make me cum until I say it. Just lick my balls for now." He said.
I obeyed lathering them with my tongue and then going back and forth from one to the other, gently sucking. His hard shaft rested on my cheek. Where I had just seconds ago been desperately working for a load I know took a more relaxed aspect.
Throughout the early part of the ride where I was in his lap working through the material of his slacks and later when I was sucking up and down, I had been hovering over him and holding myself up with my arms. As it had been more than a few minutes, my less than fully developed arms had started to tire. This new position allowed me to relax and merely rest my head in his lap. I curled my legs up on my seat and in a fetal position suckled sweetly.
I occurred to me that this might be what he meant by my meaning to life.
Many things assaulted my senses that should have been repellent to me, but somehow were not. The smell between his legs, a mix of his manly scent and some other juices was not something that I would have ordinarily thought pleasant, but down here it felt right. In fact, it washed over me and excited me. The taste of his cock and balls was that of skin cooped up since the early morning shower, where the hormones of exhilaration had seeped through the pores, sweat had gathered and saliva and precum had mixed, fermenting into a taboo cocktail. Certainly, the sights and sounds down here were not what were expected of a young horny college k**.
There was a turntable delight of feelings from belonging, to perversion, to disgust. All of them were experiences: essential, active, alive. There was a sense that things were happening to me and that I as a part of them, a secret path that unwound in moments of delight and suspense.
We pulled up at the large old brownstone on the hill. The lawn was the sort of spacious that says you have room to spare with the added benefit of keeping the others at bay. Finely trimmed hedges lined the path to the house with beds of white flowers trimming the edges. Four cylindrical pillars supported the porch area, which was flanked by large bay windows fronted by elegant white couches.
Mr. Silver opened the door and motioned me inside. He removed his shoes and I followed suit. The foyer was wide and open with a wooden staircase. We went to the left into a living area with a cathedral ceiling. A large semicircular couch set faced a wide screen television. I was directed to the couch and then left to my own designs for a short time.
All of the sexual action of late had been directed at pleasing my host, but my body was not about to be entirely left out of the loop. As I sat sinking into the black leather cushions I noticed a sensation of wetness on my thigh. Sure enough I had deposited some cock dew and with a little naughty delight my finger slipped down my pants and returned to my lips. I was really starting to develop a taste for nature's lubricant. It as so good that I reached down to see if I could extract some more, followed by another taste and then more searching.
Lacking further supplies I decided to free my member and try to work some out. In prior masturbation sessions I had noticed that if I squeezed from the prostate up the length of my shaft, usually a large drop of precum would appear. I would just use it as lube, being as how I was a nice little straight boy, but now I was expanding my horizons and my plan was to devour it as every little taste I got seemed to egg on my natural passion.
Fingers ran up the underside of my phallus, milking a bit at a time to the very tip and not surprisingly a clear drop appeared. I gently gathered it, closed my eyes and brought it up to my pouting lips. The slick salty mixture sent a tiny tremor of lust through my system as a draught stricken vampire taking a drop of blood.
It was participating in this endeavor that it was my fortune to be surprised by a voice that I had not heard before.
"You must be the Boss's new houseboy." The voice was foreign, Latin sounding.
I tried to cover myself up but it was a fool's game. My pants were entirely around my ankles. The best I could do was conceal my crotch and look over my shoulder in embarrassment.
Houseboy? That sounded permanent. Perhaps the young man didn't really understand English all that well. He was in his twenties, stood about five foot ten, was lightly muscled, but cut, wore work jeans and a tank top. Oddly, a half naked person sitting on the couch tasting his own junk didn't really seem to faze him.
Just then Mr. Silver came back carrying two tall glasses.
"Oh, Hector, I am glad you are here. This is Jack he will be around from time to time."
Hector and I exchanged greetings.
"This one enjoys giving attention like the last couple so feel free to ask him if there is anything you need. I am sure it wont take much encouragement," Mr. Silver continued. "Will it John?"
"Umm, no Sir," I stammered not sure what to say.
"In fact, Hector, I see you have been working hard. Would you do me one last favor and feed the boy here? You see I want to save myself for later."
A grin washed over the tan face and he nodded, moving the coffee table out of the way and walking over in front of me on the couch.
He unfastened his pants, dropping the to the floor and whipped out his cock, already hard and a good six inches long. His balls hung down much further than the few other men that I had experienced so far.
Hector, put both his hands on the top of my head and pushed himself into my waiting mouth. The sweaty work smell was overpowering. Where just minutes ago I as reflecting on how natural all the new sights and smells of my new path were to me, now the attack of this almost rank smell stopped me in my tracks and my hands flew up to his thighs and I resisted for a second.
The cock head was on my lips and then pushed through the no longer virginal entrance to my mouth. His taste was overpowering as he shoved himself deep, immediately starting the thrusts of one who is getting close to the end. The power of it all, the smell, the taste, my revulsion, took control of me and while inside I wanted to resist further, my hands stopped pushing back from him, instead taking a posture of submission, arms raised slightly but limp wrested. I accepted his irrumation.
A torrent of filthy words in a foreign tongue came at me from above while his cock dominated the entrance to my face. I heard "polla", "maricon" and "puta," over and over. His breathing was short and raspy. At points he would literally growl and shove deep, forcing me to gag and my eyes to water heavily.
His scent was still very heavy, but it seemed that my mouth and throat juices washed his cock and the aftertaste of his work-soiled penis rang sharply in my mouth, a new wonder.
His heavy hangers smacked up against my chin hitting underneath as he held my head tilted back. There was no choice but to look up at him. A foul grimace was on his visage as if he were literally attacking my face with his cock.
"Take it Puta, Take it," he moaned arching his back, closing his eyes and shooting load after load of hot cum into my gullet.
My eyes looked up in wonder, as if a demigod has been exposed to me. The look on his face as he had erupted, so strong and virile, things I could never truly be or understand. Somehow the taste of his seed came back up into my mouth now and it was very sharp. I held his gaze and slowly worked my lips up and down the shiny tool, all the time in my little sissy pose, arms at my sides, elbows turned up and at the top my hands dangling from my wrists.
"Excellent! Excellent!" Milton applauded, "Yes you will be a good little one for us. Just wait until this weekend. That is fine Hector you are free to leave early. Simply Excellent."
--
My naked form looked down at me from the mirror on the ceiling of the guest room. Outwardly there was little difference. Only in the way I perceive the self that I was looking at had there been a change. My scrawny arms now were soft and spindly; my thin chest and legs now more feminine; my penis was small and inadequate a symbol of my place on the sexual ladder.
I could see how a man might mistake me for a girl if I were to dress right. Was that what I wanted? No. Not really ... but maybe it would be nice. I seemed to be getting quit a bit of attention just the way I was so no need to change anything.
Beside me on the bed lay my clothes that I was to put on for our trip. A simple white dress shirt and black pants a black vest, belt and some dress socks and shoes. I put them on my freshly showered body and realized that he had left out a pair of underwear. This must have been on purpose so I just went ahead and finished clothing myself.
The soft material of the pants rubbed up against my package in a way that I wasn't quite used to and it was hard not to get aroused. I checked the finished product in the mirror. I looked like some sort of busboy; all that was missing was the little bowtie. Mr. Silver hadn't really told me much about the track so I didn't know maybe he would want me to serve food or something.
It was strange to me that I was simply accepting all of this the way I was. And I turned that over in my mind for a few minutes. Finally, I came up with the simple solution that there was no other way it could work out. I was enjoying the experience and pledge to serve or not, I figured that it wouldn't be that hard to extricate myself and return to my old life with a secret adventure behind me.
There were still a couple hours of light when we left. The evening was clear and still. A faint outline of an early moon could be made out on the horizon. We made the drive in silence.
The track itself looked to be nothing more than a large football field surrounded by an oval. On one stretch were a row of low buildings, which I assumed to be the stables, and on the side we parked on was a long building several stories high fronted by a grandstand.
We entered not through the main gate, but a side door marked 'private', following a hallway to a set of elevators. Several decorations lined the hall and it was neatly done up in a deep crimson and green.
The elevators, Mr. Silver informed me, led up to the boxes above the general seating area where his company and several others that sponsored the races could relax and conduct business in a more civilized atmosphere.
The box itself was nothing all that special. The furnishings were comfortable with some tables and couches off to one side and an open area with a short bar on the other. Facing the track itself was a large window that ran the whole length of the room. A counter a few feet off the floor was set off the window lined with leather backed bar chairs.
True to my suspicions Mr. Silver told me to go to the bar and fix up a couple of drinks. Not being very experienced in this he had to run me through it step by step.
He then told me to present myself for inspection. Not having any idea what this exactly was, I stood in front of him self-consciously. He walked around me once and then again returning to his spot in front of me.
"It is fine but we need to make a few adjustments."
Reaching in a black bag that lay on the table he pulled out a black bowtie that had a strap with a clasp. It wasn't the cheap clip on that I was used to.
"Now let's see," he said, "First we remove this."
His hands moved to the buttons on my shirt and undid them one by one pulling it off my arms. Moving behind me he put the tie around my neck and fastened it.
Again he positioned himself in front of me and looked my up and down.
"Hmm. Something is not quite right here." He pondered. "Ah, I see it now."
He moved around behind me again placing his hands on either hip and slowly started to pull down my pants. On the backside he pulled them down so that my entire ass was revealed, while on the front he took them to where the top of my cock was almost showing. In the rear they seemed to cup underneath my buttocks supporting them and on the anterior the support was my bulge itself holding up the works. Add in the support from the belt and it was easy to walk around like this. Even if I sat down and got back up everything stayed in the came place.
The races were about to begin so he led me to the window. Dusk had fallen and powerful floodlights illuminated he grandstand. It seemed an entirely different place now, an oasis of light in the blackness and we were looking down on the whole of it. The row of boxes were all in a straight line so we could not see into any of them and more importantly to me no one could see into ours. It was possible, I supposed for someone to look up into our box from the stands and see me standing up there in the window, but Milt assured me not to worry.
A ring of trumpets sounded from the loudspeaker and in a couple seconds the gates slammed open releasing the pent up energy of the horses. They were off and the crowd started shouting. The hoofs thundered in a beat that shook the very building.
Just then I felt a cool hand caressing my ass. I knew that this might be to come and I swallowed heavily, not sure that I was ready for it. First one side and then another felt his grip as he kneaded. I instinctively arched my back the slightest bit, which had the effect of parting my crack as if in invitation.
I heard a little snap behind me and then wetness and a finger searching my asshole, searching slowly, penetrating slightly and then pulling away. I bent forward bit by bit raising my bottom more. A finger entered me and my penis jumped in my pants. A barely audible gasp fell from my lips.
Pulling out and then back in, I was penetrated for the first time. My fear rose with every second. There was simply no way that I would be able to take it. Why was I dong this? I wanted to stop, but couldn't.
The finger retreated and then brought more wetness, searching the outer rim of my hole. Every time he took his hand away I was sure that I was going to be pierced by the sharp point of his spear. I wanted it now badly. Please, let it not hurt me too bad, please let me take it.
My hips started writhing as he worked my balls gently as well. I realized suddenly that if he was not careful I was going to be overcome and go over the edge. I didn't want to lose my nerve. There was no way I could take him after I had cum.
"Fuck me," I begged throatily. My voice cracked as it escaped.
A deep laugh behind me...
"You are new are you not?"
"Yes Sir, Please fuck me." I pleaded as a wave of ecstasy flowed over me. He had hit a special place and a small stream of my seed escaped.
Hands were taken away. My love hole pucker open, fondled balls hung loosely, the pants hung now at my thighs.
The room was in silence. Time stood still.
The little snap sound came from behind again and then pressure on my back forcing me forward, my face inches from the glass.
Down below in the field a horse crossed the finish line and a row of cheers filtered up from the crowd.
Then he penetrated me.
It wasn't fast or hard or deep, just the matter of an inch no more, but it seemed miles. The build up had brought me to a nervous state and as much as I wanted to accept him, my body resisted the invasion. A spike of pain hit me hard and I lurched forward into the glass, away from the intruding spike.
He held me on him, following my movements, going no further into my depths but not relinquishing his gain. A constant alarm of seeming agony took over and again I sought escape but he managed to ride me still, as if he were a bronco rider of old.
My breaths came in short gulps, but slowly a miracle seemed to happen. The pain drifted away from insane to merely intolerable and then an ache.
He inched forward a bit and I jumped again this time getting almost entirely away. He matched me with a thrust, which may have gone further than he intended. It broke new ground with a vengeance and I called out in sharp agony.
We paused. The snap sound again, followed by him pulling back and then entering again with an added coolness. This time he did not stop at all just very slowly took me one millimeter at a time until he had plumbed my depths holding himself there.
A ridiculous thought passed through my mind, "buried to the hilt with Milt," and I giggled.
He questioned me, but I shook my head shyly.
It was a release though, that little laugh. For now my ass truly accepted his cock and just in time, because he was done with the slow breaking in part of my lesson. Now it was time for the full-length slow violin bowlike motion. He would pull slowly out and then drive back the whole way. Every single time was like a new penetration. My insides closed up around the retreating intruder and then had to relinquish ground anew on each offense.
Every time he would hit the point of full impact a little moan would leave my lips. I do not think that there is a single thing that I could consciously do about this. He would hit my spot and I would have a cascade of nervous reaction fire off through my body ending with "oh" or "uh" or "mmhm" always in a soft semi girlie tone.
Occasionally, it would heat up down there, but he seemed to have a good sense for when that was happening because he would pull back and I would hear the now familiar snap before he started thrusting anew. This happened a few times and I started to think. Oh my, he is going to fuck me forever.
A new race was set up and about to begin. Something about the races seemed to get him going. Maybe it was from memories gone past. It occurred to me that I certainly wasn't the first boy deflowered at this window. Whatever it was when the trumpet sounded this time and the horses were off it was like he was in the race as well. Something like the night before when I had a desperate desire to cum during that one music video.
Mr. Silver threw away all vestiges of his humanity and just started fucking me like a wild b**st. He forgot that it was my unbroken behind that he penetrated with such vigor, that I was new and fragile. He made low guttural noises and thrust hard and deep. The pain came screaming back at me and I squirmed, every part of my body wanting to escape but the sheer torrent, plunge after plunge did not stop. I could not get away.
I looked to the horses. Something, anything outside of myself, but found I could not see through the window anymore. Our reflection now seemed to take the foreground and I saw behind me a wild a****l fulfilling his basest desire.
With that he planted himself deep within me and burst his manly seed up into me. A cheer rose up from the crowd below, which was very surreal in itself. I knew it was for the horses. Maybe that was why he had the urgency. All I knew at that moment was he had stopped shoving that fire hot poker up inside me. I basked in the sense of relief.
He popped himself out and stood there breathing heavily. Immediately I had a feeling of emptiness up inside of me that I didn't know yet, but would follow me around for the next day and might have longer if something hadn't intervened.
Not knowing what to do, I reached back and felt my hole. I expected it to be opened the size of a quarter, but while loose to the touch it was actually closed. It was very wet from I assumed lube and possibly spit. I was overcome with emotion and did the only natural thing I could.
I fell to my knees the pants now around my ankles, and put my face down to his shoes kissing his feet and thanking him. He turned and walked to the bar and poured himself something to drink. I followed on my hands and knees, kind of shuffling my feet for a bit and then losing my pants altogether. Next he went over to one of the couches and lay down on his back with his left leg hanging over the side. His pants were open. He had pulled them up over his behind after he was done, but he hadn't closed up the front.
All was silent and I kneeled at his side for a minute or two listening to his breathing pattern return to normal. Looking at his cock glistening and returning to a flaccid state, I decided that it was my duty to clean him up since I had been responsible for the mess. I crawled back over to the bar area and got a cloth and small bucket of warm water and then crawled back over to him.
There wasn't really a reason I could place for all of the crawling; just that it seemed to feel right. The rug was a nice plush and it was comfortable on my knees. I guess it was just respect for the man that had done me a favor and broken me in. I know it may sound strange since it seems like I was the one doing him a favor giving up my ass and all, but that was how I felt just then.
I took the warm, moist rag and worked it slowly over his groin area first and then refreshing it I wiped his cock and balls. They reacted to my touch and he got semi-hard but not the whole way. He seemed to be asleep or so relaxed that he was about as close as one could get.
When he was clean to my satisfaction, I began to inspect his genitals thoroughly. His legs were covered with a very light hair, but when you got up to the scrotum the covering was more full. His balls were like baby bird eggs nestled gently in their pouch. Where each hair came out was a tiny bump, but aside from those and a few small veins the surface was smooth.
His penis now back to its softness was like a fatty finger with bigger veins on it. When I stroked it gently with my finger it reacted and underneath the skin it came to life moving around and expanding.
The tip or helmet of his cock was the most interesting to me. The slit in the middle formed the edges of two tender lobes on the underside. Where they meet I came to find out was the most wonderfully sensitive spot. I learned in time to make a man cum just by working that little bit with my tongue.
It is amazing to take a fully rigid member and flick it with my tongue on the under side doing nothing else and to be deluged with a fire hose blasts of cum. It always makes for a pretty facial, which the man enjoys perhaps as much as the orgasm itself and the act of me desperately trying to get all of the delectable juice into my mouth afterwards.
I stared at his sweet cock for a while and then laying my head sideways on his left leg, which was supported by the couch, I slipped his soft member into my mouth and sucked it slowly like a pacifier.
Spent from all of the activity of the past couple days. I drifted off to sleep.
___________________________________-
Plz comment if u want to see more chapters.
The Strand's juke twanged away the steel guitar of some long gone classic. I opened the door and a rush of air blew out as if to welcome me and then drew me in. Being only about midnight, more than a few patrons lined the bar and the bartender, a new guy I had never seen before, was watching a hockey game with the sound turned off.
I found myself wishing that I had asked Tom to call up here and have them let me buy some booze. Could he really do that? I supposed not. He was just a guy that came in and boozed it up like the rest of these guys, but his chances were better than mine.
Gathering up my courage I tried to look as old as I could and with an air of disinterest wandered up to the bar.
A line of sodden heads stared at the TV screen where a tall thin player was weaving his way through center ice. He zigged past one defenseman and was about to make his way to freedom when out of nowhere an opponent slammed into him sending him reeling, separating him from the puck and his senses. The men in the bar cheered over loud with the excitement of inebriation.
I waited until what seemed like a lull in the action and using my loudest voice told the bartender I wanted a couple sixes of beer.
You got any ID on you?" he said looking me over.
"I left it at the house. I come in here all the time could you just get it for me?" I pleaded.
"Sorry bud. Can't do. We just had a liquor control guy in here a couple nights ago."
He seemed genuinely sorry, but I could tell that he wasn't going to get served that night. An evil little thought brewed up inside of me. I should lean over and whisper in his ear that I would suck his cock if he let me buy some.
The idea was quickly discarded out of fear, discretion and a sense of disgust with myself. I wasn't really going to ask that I told myself and laughed it off.
I went back out into the night. It wasn't far to my place from here I could turn down the road that led directly to the campus proper or I could follow Vine street which ran parallel and was more residential. There was no hurry to get home and more relaxing feel of this area suited me far more than the hectic party scene down by the dorms so I walked on into the darkness.
The mood of this night suited me. There was the need for some looking inside of myself. For the most part I still desperately wanted to be attracted to girls and not have sex with men; to just be like other people. And I was. I mean when the cheerleaders walked by I looked just like all of the other guys, but you wouldn't be able to tell that my sexual experiences since arriving at college.
Block after block passed and I shortly realized that if I didn't turn back toward campus soon that I would pass it altogether and be lost in the middle of the night or at the very least have to retrace my steps. I turned left down a rather wide alleyway. Dumpsters and carports lined either side.
I suppose that I should have been more nervous being that I was in a decent sized city wandering at night in unknown territory, but it seemed that the night itself was protecting me.
The alley let out back on the main strip but much further down town than I had walked before. To my left would be the dorms and home, but across the street on the far corner was a joint with some bright music playing. The door was open and a few guys were standing out front messing around. The sign above the entrance said Cloud Two. By the neon lights all over the windows I assumed it was a bar and figured I might as well take another shot at getting some brews.
The place was packed with people. On the left hand wall was a long bar backed by a mirror the entire length. Ten or so tables formed in a semi-circle around a dance floor only 20 feet square. A small disco ball hung in the center and grebe and blue strobe gave the place a very surreal feel.
My plan of action this time was to actually just hang at the pace a while, drinking a few there. If I tipped well, hopefully I could grab a six to bring home where I could zone out to my thoughts a bit.
The lights and the dancing was hypnotic, which may have caused me to be more natural when I went to get a drink, or they just didn't care here. Either way in short order, I found myself at a small table alone. I sipped the first drink then followed it up with a second and third.
It was very comfortable there for me. The hyperdrone beat glazed me into a welcome trance. Now I could collect my thoughts and put them in some sort of order. The whole thing was so chaotic. The touchstones I my mind: The boy jacking on the couch; the encounter in the video booth, a surprise with Tom and then again on my knees in what I had to admit to myself was not really a shock.
I had set myself up by going back in there. My thoughts returned to the feeling of trepidation I had felt before going to work that night. Wasn't it in fact rather a feeling of overexcitement that I could hardly bear? I had chosen to go into the back where access to me without the knowledge of my co-workers would be the easiest and had stayed there when clearly finished until I was "discovered".
There was also the old man on the phone and this group of "friends". With all of the sex going on I really hadn't had time to think much about it. It simply didn't seem possible that there was a real person expecting me to meet him at a hotel for what certainly would be sexual favors.
"Break me in," Tom had said and that last little parting shot before I left. There was definitely something about the penis that attracted me. It was undeniable. If not my reaction should certainly have been much different. The image of his cock bouncing in front of my eyes after he had deposited his seed tonight flipped to the front of my mind and I tried to hold it there consciously.
Yes, there was no doubt that I was held in a sort of thrall. Even now there was a growing sensation in my jeans.
Was I really that way though? Couldn't it still at this stage just be a sort of wild experimentation stage before I started to engage in a normal sex life with a girl?
I tried to picture the cock slipping back into my mouth, but I lost it. That was proof right there wasn't it? If I was a flaming homo wouldn't I be able to hold onto that image and take the fantasy further? Wasn't there some inner quality of me that all of these actions of late didn't jive with?
My mouth, yes, I could admit I liked that feeling when he filled my mouth, but maybe that was just trying a new thing. I couldn't let a man take me from behind or that would really ice it. If I let him "break me in" then I would lose control of the whole situation and there would be no going back.
The whole fear it seemed to me to be that I was losing control of the situation; that whether I really wanted it or not I was being drawn into this world of sex with men. I wanted to have the ability put a stop to it and be the determiner of my own fate.
Right then and there made my own decision. This was my life and I was going to live it the way that I wanted.
I would down a couple beers here quick and then go home with a couple sixes and get good and slammed, "forget" to wake and go meet the man at the hotel and just cut all ties with Tom. Next weekend I would go up on the hill to the fraternities and just talk to every drunk girl I could until one let me have sex with her and I would just bury all this somewhere inside of me.
At this point no one knew.
I looked around the room for some girl that was maybe unattached. Heck, it was close to last call by now anyways. Maybe I could grab one of them here and take her back to my empty place.
First I scanned the tables around me. Only a couple still had people at them. All of which were guys of either college age or a little bit older. I turned back to the bar and looked down the long row. Probably about 5 dudes were left hanging out there.
Finally, I scanned the dancers. The glaring lights and smoky atmosphere had somewhat blurred them into the background of my vision. There were about six forms out there bouncing around. All of them guys.
Men were dancing with men and two were wrapped in an embrace that could not be confused with anything else. Not only were there no girls here now. It came to me that there never were any at all.
There wasn't even time for that to register when the bartender walked by my table.
"Hey you last call," he said.
I looked directly over but hadn't raised my eyes yet so I stared right at his crotch. Why did I keep doing that? I bit my lip in embarrassment and looked up at him.
"Thanks," I said.
He went on to the other tables and then the dance floor before passing me again as he returned. I pretended not to pay any attention to him, but I got one more quick little view of his crotch right before he headed back to the bar. I could swear I could make it out.
Well, I didn't have time really to ponder anything if I was to get some for the road. So I quickly got up and followed him to the bar and asked for a couple sixes.
There wasn't any sort of acknowledgement that I had just been looking at him down there. Probably this was the sort of place that happened all the time. He just grabbed some out of the cooler, bagged it up and I was on my way.
The night had cleared up and the streets were pretty bare. It was a Sunday night after all I guess so not as many people were out. I didn't care my Monday classes were easy anyways and I wasn't really feeling school all that much lately.
I got to my room with no problems from the guard at the desk and settled down slamming a few beers quickly. Tonight I was going to get good and messed up. I just wanted to stop my mind for a bit. The music was kept low; the TV on some obscure music video channel with no sound on. I dropped towards oblivion
When a video with an attractive woman would come on I would rub myself through my pants and just stare at here, keeping my mind totally devoid of any active thought. It occurred to me that I was trying to program myself.
I dipped deeper and deeper into a state of intoxication. My clothes had been shed and know I was stroking myself slowly with every girl trying to imprint their curves into my psyche. Between songs or when it was a different kind of act I would lurk about the room looking for something there was something missing.
On a longer one of these breaks I was going through my closet and found something. It wasn't certain that it was the "something" that was missing, and it wasn't what I wanted to be the "something", but I found it nevertheless.
A while back I had been taking a shower in the public restroom that we all shared on the floor and I had noticed that someone had left behind a shampoo bottle. It wasn't really all that different than any other of the same that you may have seen, but there is one thing about most shampoo bottles that this one wasn't.
Your typical shower kit for traveling has this tiny bottle of shampoo in it. About 3 inches in length and quite thin. More often than not it is an oblong shape laterally instead of a circle. The normal bottle that a person would buy for general use is much larger about 10 inches or so long and, while round, at least a couple inches in diameter.
This particular bottle, for it is the bottle itself that was unique not the liquid inside, was about seven inches long and about an inch and a half thick. My first thought when I saw it was to pick it up and compare it to my penis. It won by a small margin, but one could certainly see it as a possible replacement. When compared to the organ of the boy I saw masturbating, for example, it would have been slightly lacking.
For whatever reason, perhaps fate, I had collected the bottle and it now lay on my shelf with other toiletries. I brought it back to the chair I had rested in all night, took a deep drag on one of my remaining beers and reposed, legs spread out in front of me.
I rubbed dildo, I had started to think of it as that, on my belly back and forth. The plastic material was cool to the touch and as it ran along my skin it seemed to raise goosebumps, which receded shortly after it had passed.
My chin rested on my chest so my field of vision was the rolling placebo in the foreground, then my very real life tool still erect and throbbing from much use and no release, and then the television screen framed on either side by my bare feet.
The lady on the screen came into focus; more a young girl really than a lady, fresh and sweet. She pranced around delicately.
This was the one!
I lurched forward quickly bringing myself to my knees, moved my hand down into position and vigorously started working my shaft. She turned away from me and bent, arching her back and looking back with a coquettish smile.
I worked hard, in almost a state of panic. The video could end at any minute. It had to be now. This would free me from the spell. My eyes moved from the screen down to my furious pumping, cock lost in the blur of my fist. It was inconceivable. I had been building myself up for so long. Normally just a few second of this and I was over the edge.
The song seemed to be winding down. The girl was waving goodbye to me. There had to be something.
Without thinking I reached down with my left hand and found the bottle, brought it up to my mouth and started shoving it in and out like Tom had done earlier that night. It seemed days ago but it was just that night. The girl on the screened winked off.
The song over, I closed my eyes literally fucking my hand now and blew all over. Five, Six, Seven shots. Each one accompanied by a deep groan from the depths of me. So loud and only stifled by the bottle (dildo ~ cock) in my mouth. There was no concern for anyone hearing or thoughts of what I was doing at all, just sheer ecstasy. My body wracked and then, spent, I fell to the floor, mouth still full and crashed into a deep sleep.
--
A gentle breeze whispered over my body, moving the soft light brown hairs on my arms and legs back and forth. The sun's warmth soaked into my skin and the bones beneath invigorating me and at the same time soothing me into a deep state of relaxation. The lids of my eyes were weighted shut so utter was the tranquility of my nature.
Immunity to furrowed brows, clenched shoulders and rigid counterfeit grins was granted as I lay back on the chaise lounger, supported just properly to a point where I was almost floating on its surface.
A voice echoed in the distance of my daze, but was brought into focus as my consciousness returned.
"Sir..."
"Sir, you had asked for a towel?"
I breathed deeply and slowly took in my surroundings as my eyes opened. A few steps in front of me was a pool, which seemed to have no edge as it met the horizon. It was as if when you entered the pool you would naturally be drawn right over the edge. It was backed by a deep forest, viewed from an angle high above. There was the quality of floating on a cloud
"Sir?"
A man stood on my left side, in his hands, a large white fluffy towel. He held the towel level with his firm tight abdomen. Beneath that he wore no clothes at all and between his legs was the largest flaccid penis. It was more robust than most men at full mast, but hung loose until it flared widely at the tip. On either side were 2 very healthy testes the size of small eggs, which would rise up a bit on certain words he spoke.
"Sorry if I woke you, Sir," He said in a smooth voice, "but you had asked for it special."
I raised my hand slowly up until I touched him. My fingers brushed up behind his glans and the whole long snake jumped. I slid up the shaft to the waiting balls and cupped one then the other, gently pulling them down with my fingers in a sort of milking motion. The healthy member jumped again and started every so slightly to straighten.
From underneath I delicately ran my fingers up behind his precious sack of jewels and worked them around to the front. Slipping them through the soft patch of fur. The giant love tool came to life just a tiny bit more, not hanging but arching out like the branches of a willow.
My fingertips traced the outline of his shaft, slipping over the veiny bumps, trying to read the secret Braille of this life-giving tool.
His excitement mounted and it pointed nearly straight out at me, beckoning my assistance. I had awoken it and now it was my responsibility. I sat up turning sideway and faced him. My left hand moved back to massage his so heavy, so full balls. My right worked underhanded along the bottom of his shaft and caressing the tip.
My lips pursed, hovering inches from the eye of this monster. I blew upon it lightly and then began to stretch my tongue out toward the entrance. When only the barest fragment of space intervened between the two I squeezed gently with my left hand willing the release of some of what was to cum.
A single droplet appeared at the tip, so close to my eyes that I could cherish the wetness fully. A tiny clear bubble grew slowly and then replacing the pure clarity were tiny white streams. They pushed at the edges forcing the drop to grow until it seemed it would burst.
My tongue touched the edge ever so slightly and for a second they were apart. Then the flow started. A tiny rivulet of fragrant precum roiled down its base. Another gentle tug on the balls and more the river was refreshed. I went for a selfish third try but alas there was none. I would have to work in earnest now.
My right hand gripped the shaft, the tips of my fingers barely touching on the other side. I started to pull back and forth, mouth agape like a trout. Then I took him in my mouth. There seemed to be too much to fit, but my mouth magically spread apart to accept this loving gift.
Down I went until the entire fastness that was my mouth was full the whole way to the palate.
It was not enough though. I wanted more. A deep need inside of me drove me deeper and the head of his cock, the thickness of which had to dwarf my gullet's by nearly an inch, slipped down into my throat and beyond, traversing the virginal depths deeper and deeper within me until it reached my heart.
There was no further motion. I was there, hands limply at my sides. His whole length buried to the depth within me, nostrils taking in his musky odor, which marked me as his.
He started to pulse. His heavy hanging jewels rose up with every tumult. As the sweet cum roared down, his manly tool grew and stretched me, filling the empty spaces within.
I looked up past the flat stomach and defined chest, up into his eyes. He stared down on me, temporarily released from the bondage of self; for a single moment on the panes of eternity. His bright smile a beacon of spirit shining upon me.
Then suddenly all changed right before my very eyes. The cock shriveled down to the size of a mortal man. My mouth held the taste of his seed heavily. It seemed to slip out my very pores. My face smelled heavily of crotch. The flat chiseled belly grew into that of a middle-aged man's beer gut. The face now obscured by the girth turned into that of my boss. His big cheesy knowing grin looked down.
"Thanks, faggot," he said and then pulled out.
Off in the distance a phone began to ring...
--
My return to consciousness was a sharp one. I still lay thereon the floor of my room. The video channel played on and the dildo-bottle lay on the floor in front of me in a puddle of drool.
The phone rang and rang and rang. It jangled my every nerve. I suppressed the urge to just run over and beat it to dust, more from the fact that running seemed literally impossible in my current state than any concern for he instrument of my torture.
I took a few deep breaths and slowly got to my feet. My body seemed to move back and forth to my heavy heartbeat.
Even though I knew perfectly well where the phone was I kind of wandered about the room as if in search of it. Looking first over at my bed and then back on the desk where I had three remaining beers. I contemplated them for a minute and decided that I might actually be able to speak if I had one so I cracked it and tried to chug it.
Big mistake. I retched and almost lost it all over the floor, but after I recovered I took a few smaller swigs, which stayed down all right. My clothes were still gone of course, but I looked at myself to make sure. Down on my one thigh was a big wet spot. I must have been leaking like mad in that dream.
Damn what a dream. Never had one like that before.
Reaching down my finger pooled around in the wetness. I brought it up to inspect it and then gave it a lick. It tasted good so I went back and got the rest.
Then finally I answered the phone.
It had rung like a million times since I got up and only one person would likely do that. Looking back now I think that maybe if I hadn't taken that drink or tasted my juice things might have ended up much different. You never know about those things really. Maybe it is all fate and you don't have a choice I don't know, but for me it went this way.
"Hello," I said into the phone groggily.
"Hey. Where are you?" It was Tom, of course and he sounded kind of gruff. It occurred to me that since he had called me he knew perfectly well where I was, but I didn't say anything.
"Do you know what time it is?" The voice asked.
"Umm well, no, I mean Yeah," looking at the clock by the bed, "it's two-thirty. Oh shit. Yeah I know. Right. Yeah I said so."
I'm leaving out all of what he said because it was a bunch of stupid shit I didn't remember anyways. Bottom line is he was mad because I had missed my date and that the guy was gonna head over and pick me up at the dorm in like 5 minutes so throw some clothes on and go out to meet him.
No it didn't matter that I was hungover and looked like shit I could take care of everything later. He said something about the track, but I wasn't paying attention.
Just then the buzzer thing on my door went off. I totally picked the wrong morning to have my head like this. The intercom was even worse than the phone. I just hug up on Tom and answered it.
"Hello"
"Hi there is a Milton Silver here to see you," it was the security guard, probably mad that someone had woken him up.
"OK yeah. Umm. Just tell him wait a couple minutes I'll be right down."
I kind of cleaned myself up quick threw on some aftershave that I had and fresh jeans and shirt and headed out.
This whole time I had not even considered not going. I am not sure why. There was no reflection about what I was getting myself into, nothing at all, Actually I was kind of looking forward to it because this Milton guy for some reason I had him pegged as a drinker and lately I had been dipping in the sauce quite a bit.
I got down to the entrance and waved thanks to the guard, looking around for my ride. He wasn't hard to spot. About 5'10, light build. He had an angular face, black hair peppered on the sides with gray. He wore light dress pants and shirt and a black blazer. If you made me sum it up you would it would be something like Dracula meets Miami Vice. It worked for him though.
He was talking on a phone. It was still rather rare at a that point to see someone on a mobile and it wasn't one of those big boxlike ones so he had to be doing pretty well for himself
We met and he smiled, leading me to a black luxury sedan. I half expected him to have a chauffer, but he was driving himself.
"Hello, I am Milton Silver." He addressed himself formally.
"I'm John." I didn't.
"I figured I would take you out to my place for a bit and then we could go out to the track, the company has a box out there."
"That's cool. Sorry Tom called me I kind of slept in." I apologized.
"Yeah, he told me that you went out last night and got yourself tight." He reached into the console and produced a silver flask. "Here help yourself."
I accepted it, removing the cap and sniffing. Some sort of whiskey I supposed. I tilted back the flask and took a belt.
"Go on, go on. Take the edge off, you want to enjoy yourself", he prodded.
It was kind of an obvious attempt, but I didn't mind and I took a big gulp, swallowed it and quickly took another small hit off the bottle before restoring the cap. The familiar calm washed over me and my jangled nerves were silenced.
He drove on in silence for a while as we left the city and slipped into the countryside. It was nice being out of the bustle of town for once. Reminded me a little of home. A quick thought came over me about what my parents or people back home might think if they knew I was in this car under these pretenses and I took another heavy belt from the flask which took me from taking the edge of to a full blown glow.
I looked over at Milt and he was already looking at me smiling.
"You know you were a naughty boy leaving me hanging back there you know, John. Milton admonished. "It's ok though. You will make it up to me."
He took my left hand in his right and placed it on his lap.
My palm landed on his thigh but missed any special part, only the tip of my finger brushed every so lightly. I held still for a second and then started exploring, just keeping my hand flat and moving slowly down to the center where his bulge lived.
Shifting around in his seat to get more comfortable, the man old enough to be my father eased the power seat back, reached over again this time collecting not my hand but the top of my head. He matted the my hair lightly into his fist and gently pulled me down towards him, only when I resisted ever so slightly did he use force, shoving my face into his groin.
"Lick."
It was a command not from the soft gentle voice he had been using, but of one long used to getting his way in boardrooms.
I started licking his pants, which were made of a sort of silk. My tongue found his cock, slightly stiffening but not yet hard. My tongue went right to the head, the most sensitive part. I wanted him to get hard and horny and free himself so I could taste his flesh.
But, he was a practiced master of even his own obsessions. Through a simple force of will he kept himself from getting fully erect, making me work for it. I would lick and kiss him, making little cooing sounds like I was really getting into it. The truth was I really did get into it and I think he knew that.
He drove on for probably ten minutes like that, my face in his crotch and his hand holding my head down. Through careful maneuvering I had managed to work the head of his cock into my mouth so it as like I was giving him a very short blowjob through his slacks, but I could never get enough depth.
Just then the car started to slow down. I filled with anticipation thinking perhaps Milton had decided it was too much for him and he was pulling off the side of the road for a full on blowjob. To be honest, I was really looking forward to it. At first I hadn't really cared, but after spending the last bit of time in his lap I was turning into a cock hungry slut.
He pulled the car over and we went over a small bump. Curious, I tried to lift my head to see where we were, but Milton held my still.
"Don't stop," he ordered.
I went back to sucking on his head like before when the car stopped entirely. We sat there idling for a couple minutes and then he pulled forward about ten feet and stopped again.
What was he doing?
His breathing was getting noticeably heavier so I knew that he was really getting into it, but what exactly "it" was I had no real idea.
The car pulled forward and then stopped again. The sound of a power window being lowered froze me for a second, but a squeeze on my hair and I resumed my tiny sucks.
"Good day, Mr. Silver, how may I help you today?" Asked a cheery feminine voice.
"Just a deposit my dear. One Second." He said, "John, my dear, would you be so kind as to grab the deposit from the glove box. It is all ready."
Then he lifted me off his lap and motioned to the compartment.
I reached over, opened it, pulling out the only envelope it contained and handed it to Milt, but he motioned me away.
"You may hand it to her." He said.
There was nothing else to do so I reached over him and out the window to a smiling girl who was maybe in her early twenties, pretty with curly blond hair.
"Thank you. I will have the receipt in a sec.", she said taking the deposit.
Before she could turn away, Mr. Silver took me by the hair again and pushed me back down onto his crotch. For the second before I disappeared a look of shock came over my face and then I was gone from view.
His cock was rigid against my cheek where I rested a second before rubbing my lips up and down the shaft over and over.
"Thank you. Here is your receipt Mr. Silver. You have a good day now," said the pretty bank teller. Then she giggled.
The power window rolled back up and we drove off but just before we were out of earshot I heard "Oh my God..."
I flushed with shame, but at the same time a kind of excitement came over me.
"Well young John. You seem to work down there rather well, but we will see. I need to know now before I let you suck my cock. Are you willing to please me and my cock, in any manner I wish, wherever, and whenever I wish?"
I paused not knowing what to do.
"Answer John," he ordered
"Anywhere? Anytime?" I asked.
"Yes John, Anytime, anywhere, without question, you will be my sexual servant and may help with a few other things. You will get in return the understanding of the meaning of your life." He continued, "Answer John. Answer me now. Yes or No."
It all passed through my head so fast. I wasn't ready to make a decision like this. Why would I want to? And yet here I was my head in his lap willingly. I had not resisted where other men would have fought. Maybe I wasn't really a man in that sense. It was too much.
"OK, John I guess not I will take you home." he said, pulling me off his crotch and releasing my hair.
"Yes," I said meekly
"What John? I could not hear you? And call me Sir I am your better."
"Yes Sir. I will do it." My words came out practically on their own.
"Say out loud exactly what you will do and give me your word. Your word is your bond." He stated.
"I will please your cock whenever you want, where and how you want." I said, quickly adding "Sir".
"Give your word, John." He said waiting.
"I give my word." I said with finality.
"Fair enough now you may suck my cock. We have about 10 minutes until we get to the house. Do not bring me to orgasm before we arrive." He ordered. "Understood?"
"Yes Sir"
I waited for his hand to pull me back down, but realized obedience was simply accepted now. Bending over him I reached down and undid the buttons of his fly, slipping my hand inside. He was wearing boxers and I fished around for the hole, finally getting a hold and slipped him right out through.
Some men look older and some younger than their age. It seems to be the same way with penises. When a guy gets older sometimes his penis isn't as reactive or wont get quite as hard, but Mr. Silver's wasn't like that at all. I bet in a blind taste test between his cock and a young man's you would have a hard time telling which was whose.
Between all of my work prior, the public activity and the addition of a new boy he was trying for the first time, Milt's hilt was rock hard at full mast. It had been too much for me the waiting, the second my lips touched the head of his cock I dove deep down, needing for feel the length of him.
Unlike the fantasy state of the dream where I took the monster cock the whole ay to my belly, reality told me a different story and I gagged heavily almost losing it in his lap. I thought he would admonish me, but he let me play the fool this time.
Now more slowly up and down the length I worked into a rhythm concentrating mostly on the first few inches of what was a average or slightly better cock, keeping the helmet in my mouth the whole time, just working with my lips.
Sometimes I would get to fast, making him get too close, and he would hold my head and direct me to a much slower speed. Two or three seconds up and then the same back down again. Before long I would be up to the speed I wanted to go. My body's natural rate of sucking that would get me the seed I craved. After a few times of this, he pulled my mouth completely off.
"Be careful, Son. Your job is to suck my cock, not make me cum until I say it. Just lick my balls for now." He said.
I obeyed lathering them with my tongue and then going back and forth from one to the other, gently sucking. His hard shaft rested on my cheek. Where I had just seconds ago been desperately working for a load I know took a more relaxed aspect.
Throughout the early part of the ride where I was in his lap working through the material of his slacks and later when I was sucking up and down, I had been hovering over him and holding myself up with my arms. As it had been more than a few minutes, my less than fully developed arms had started to tire. This new position allowed me to relax and merely rest my head in his lap. I curled my legs up on my seat and in a fetal position suckled sweetly.
I occurred to me that this might be what he meant by my meaning to life.
Many things assaulted my senses that should have been repellent to me, but somehow were not. The smell between his legs, a mix of his manly scent and some other juices was not something that I would have ordinarily thought pleasant, but down here it felt right. In fact, it washed over me and excited me. The taste of his cock and balls was that of skin cooped up since the early morning shower, where the hormones of exhilaration had seeped through the pores, sweat had gathered and saliva and precum had mixed, fermenting into a taboo cocktail. Certainly, the sights and sounds down here were not what were expected of a young horny college k**.
There was a turntable delight of feelings from belonging, to perversion, to disgust. All of them were experiences: essential, active, alive. There was a sense that things were happening to me and that I as a part of them, a secret path that unwound in moments of delight and suspense.
We pulled up at the large old brownstone on the hill. The lawn was the sort of spacious that says you have room to spare with the added benefit of keeping the others at bay. Finely trimmed hedges lined the path to the house with beds of white flowers trimming the edges. Four cylindrical pillars supported the porch area, which was flanked by large bay windows fronted by elegant white couches.
Mr. Silver opened the door and motioned me inside. He removed his shoes and I followed suit. The foyer was wide and open with a wooden staircase. We went to the left into a living area with a cathedral ceiling. A large semicircular couch set faced a wide screen television. I was directed to the couch and then left to my own designs for a short time.
All of the sexual action of late had been directed at pleasing my host, but my body was not about to be entirely left out of the loop. As I sat sinking into the black leather cushions I noticed a sensation of wetness on my thigh. Sure enough I had deposited some cock dew and with a little naughty delight my finger slipped down my pants and returned to my lips. I was really starting to develop a taste for nature's lubricant. It as so good that I reached down to see if I could extract some more, followed by another taste and then more searching.
Lacking further supplies I decided to free my member and try to work some out. In prior masturbation sessions I had noticed that if I squeezed from the prostate up the length of my shaft, usually a large drop of precum would appear. I would just use it as lube, being as how I was a nice little straight boy, but now I was expanding my horizons and my plan was to devour it as every little taste I got seemed to egg on my natural passion.
Fingers ran up the underside of my phallus, milking a bit at a time to the very tip and not surprisingly a clear drop appeared. I gently gathered it, closed my eyes and brought it up to my pouting lips. The slick salty mixture sent a tiny tremor of lust through my system as a draught stricken vampire taking a drop of blood.
It was participating in this endeavor that it was my fortune to be surprised by a voice that I had not heard before.
"You must be the Boss's new houseboy." The voice was foreign, Latin sounding.
I tried to cover myself up but it was a fool's game. My pants were entirely around my ankles. The best I could do was conceal my crotch and look over my shoulder in embarrassment.
Houseboy? That sounded permanent. Perhaps the young man didn't really understand English all that well. He was in his twenties, stood about five foot ten, was lightly muscled, but cut, wore work jeans and a tank top. Oddly, a half naked person sitting on the couch tasting his own junk didn't really seem to faze him.
Just then Mr. Silver came back carrying two tall glasses.
"Oh, Hector, I am glad you are here. This is Jack he will be around from time to time."
Hector and I exchanged greetings.
"This one enjoys giving attention like the last couple so feel free to ask him if there is anything you need. I am sure it wont take much encouragement," Mr. Silver continued. "Will it John?"
"Umm, no Sir," I stammered not sure what to say.
"In fact, Hector, I see you have been working hard. Would you do me one last favor and feed the boy here? You see I want to save myself for later."
A grin washed over the tan face and he nodded, moving the coffee table out of the way and walking over in front of me on the couch.
He unfastened his pants, dropping the to the floor and whipped out his cock, already hard and a good six inches long. His balls hung down much further than the few other men that I had experienced so far.
Hector, put both his hands on the top of my head and pushed himself into my waiting mouth. The sweaty work smell was overpowering. Where just minutes ago I as reflecting on how natural all the new sights and smells of my new path were to me, now the attack of this almost rank smell stopped me in my tracks and my hands flew up to his thighs and I resisted for a second.
The cock head was on my lips and then pushed through the no longer virginal entrance to my mouth. His taste was overpowering as he shoved himself deep, immediately starting the thrusts of one who is getting close to the end. The power of it all, the smell, the taste, my revulsion, took control of me and while inside I wanted to resist further, my hands stopped pushing back from him, instead taking a posture of submission, arms raised slightly but limp wrested. I accepted his irrumation.
A torrent of filthy words in a foreign tongue came at me from above while his cock dominated the entrance to my face. I heard "polla", "maricon" and "puta," over and over. His breathing was short and raspy. At points he would literally growl and shove deep, forcing me to gag and my eyes to water heavily.
His scent was still very heavy, but it seemed that my mouth and throat juices washed his cock and the aftertaste of his work-soiled penis rang sharply in my mouth, a new wonder.
His heavy hangers smacked up against my chin hitting underneath as he held my head tilted back. There was no choice but to look up at him. A foul grimace was on his visage as if he were literally attacking my face with his cock.
"Take it Puta, Take it," he moaned arching his back, closing his eyes and shooting load after load of hot cum into my gullet.
My eyes looked up in wonder, as if a demigod has been exposed to me. The look on his face as he had erupted, so strong and virile, things I could never truly be or understand. Somehow the taste of his seed came back up into my mouth now and it was very sharp. I held his gaze and slowly worked my lips up and down the shiny tool, all the time in my little sissy pose, arms at my sides, elbows turned up and at the top my hands dangling from my wrists.
"Excellent! Excellent!" Milton applauded, "Yes you will be a good little one for us. Just wait until this weekend. That is fine Hector you are free to leave early. Simply Excellent."
--
My naked form looked down at me from the mirror on the ceiling of the guest room. Outwardly there was little difference. Only in the way I perceive the self that I was looking at had there been a change. My scrawny arms now were soft and spindly; my thin chest and legs now more feminine; my penis was small and inadequate a symbol of my place on the sexual ladder.
I could see how a man might mistake me for a girl if I were to dress right. Was that what I wanted? No. Not really ... but maybe it would be nice. I seemed to be getting quit a bit of attention just the way I was so no need to change anything.
Beside me on the bed lay my clothes that I was to put on for our trip. A simple white dress shirt and black pants a black vest, belt and some dress socks and shoes. I put them on my freshly showered body and realized that he had left out a pair of underwear. This must have been on purpose so I just went ahead and finished clothing myself.
The soft material of the pants rubbed up against my package in a way that I wasn't quite used to and it was hard not to get aroused. I checked the finished product in the mirror. I looked like some sort of busboy; all that was missing was the little bowtie. Mr. Silver hadn't really told me much about the track so I didn't know maybe he would want me to serve food or something.
It was strange to me that I was simply accepting all of this the way I was. And I turned that over in my mind for a few minutes. Finally, I came up with the simple solution that there was no other way it could work out. I was enjoying the experience and pledge to serve or not, I figured that it wouldn't be that hard to extricate myself and return to my old life with a secret adventure behind me.
There were still a couple hours of light when we left. The evening was clear and still. A faint outline of an early moon could be made out on the horizon. We made the drive in silence.
The track itself looked to be nothing more than a large football field surrounded by an oval. On one stretch were a row of low buildings, which I assumed to be the stables, and on the side we parked on was a long building several stories high fronted by a grandstand.
We entered not through the main gate, but a side door marked 'private', following a hallway to a set of elevators. Several decorations lined the hall and it was neatly done up in a deep crimson and green.
The elevators, Mr. Silver informed me, led up to the boxes above the general seating area where his company and several others that sponsored the races could relax and conduct business in a more civilized atmosphere.
The box itself was nothing all that special. The furnishings were comfortable with some tables and couches off to one side and an open area with a short bar on the other. Facing the track itself was a large window that ran the whole length of the room. A counter a few feet off the floor was set off the window lined with leather backed bar chairs.
True to my suspicions Mr. Silver told me to go to the bar and fix up a couple of drinks. Not being very experienced in this he had to run me through it step by step.
He then told me to present myself for inspection. Not having any idea what this exactly was, I stood in front of him self-consciously. He walked around me once and then again returning to his spot in front of me.
"It is fine but we need to make a few adjustments."
Reaching in a black bag that lay on the table he pulled out a black bowtie that had a strap with a clasp. It wasn't the cheap clip on that I was used to.
"Now let's see," he said, "First we remove this."
His hands moved to the buttons on my shirt and undid them one by one pulling it off my arms. Moving behind me he put the tie around my neck and fastened it.
Again he positioned himself in front of me and looked my up and down.
"Hmm. Something is not quite right here." He pondered. "Ah, I see it now."
He moved around behind me again placing his hands on either hip and slowly started to pull down my pants. On the backside he pulled them down so that my entire ass was revealed, while on the front he took them to where the top of my cock was almost showing. In the rear they seemed to cup underneath my buttocks supporting them and on the anterior the support was my bulge itself holding up the works. Add in the support from the belt and it was easy to walk around like this. Even if I sat down and got back up everything stayed in the came place.
The races were about to begin so he led me to the window. Dusk had fallen and powerful floodlights illuminated he grandstand. It seemed an entirely different place now, an oasis of light in the blackness and we were looking down on the whole of it. The row of boxes were all in a straight line so we could not see into any of them and more importantly to me no one could see into ours. It was possible, I supposed for someone to look up into our box from the stands and see me standing up there in the window, but Milt assured me not to worry.
A ring of trumpets sounded from the loudspeaker and in a couple seconds the gates slammed open releasing the pent up energy of the horses. They were off and the crowd started shouting. The hoofs thundered in a beat that shook the very building.
Just then I felt a cool hand caressing my ass. I knew that this might be to come and I swallowed heavily, not sure that I was ready for it. First one side and then another felt his grip as he kneaded. I instinctively arched my back the slightest bit, which had the effect of parting my crack as if in invitation.
I heard a little snap behind me and then wetness and a finger searching my asshole, searching slowly, penetrating slightly and then pulling away. I bent forward bit by bit raising my bottom more. A finger entered me and my penis jumped in my pants. A barely audible gasp fell from my lips.
Pulling out and then back in, I was penetrated for the first time. My fear rose with every second. There was simply no way that I would be able to take it. Why was I dong this? I wanted to stop, but couldn't.
The finger retreated and then brought more wetness, searching the outer rim of my hole. Every time he took his hand away I was sure that I was going to be pierced by the sharp point of his spear. I wanted it now badly. Please, let it not hurt me too bad, please let me take it.
My hips started writhing as he worked my balls gently as well. I realized suddenly that if he was not careful I was going to be overcome and go over the edge. I didn't want to lose my nerve. There was no way I could take him after I had cum.
"Fuck me," I begged throatily. My voice cracked as it escaped.
A deep laugh behind me...
"You are new are you not?"
"Yes Sir, Please fuck me." I pleaded as a wave of ecstasy flowed over me. He had hit a special place and a small stream of my seed escaped.
Hands were taken away. My love hole pucker open, fondled balls hung loosely, the pants hung now at my thighs.
The room was in silence. Time stood still.
The little snap sound came from behind again and then pressure on my back forcing me forward, my face inches from the glass.
Down below in the field a horse crossed the finish line and a row of cheers filtered up from the crowd.
Then he penetrated me.
It wasn't fast or hard or deep, just the matter of an inch no more, but it seemed miles. The build up had brought me to a nervous state and as much as I wanted to accept him, my body resisted the invasion. A spike of pain hit me hard and I lurched forward into the glass, away from the intruding spike.
He held me on him, following my movements, going no further into my depths but not relinquishing his gain. A constant alarm of seeming agony took over and again I sought escape but he managed to ride me still, as if he were a bronco rider of old.
My breaths came in short gulps, but slowly a miracle seemed to happen. The pain drifted away from insane to merely intolerable and then an ache.
He inched forward a bit and I jumped again this time getting almost entirely away. He matched me with a thrust, which may have gone further than he intended. It broke new ground with a vengeance and I called out in sharp agony.
We paused. The snap sound again, followed by him pulling back and then entering again with an added coolness. This time he did not stop at all just very slowly took me one millimeter at a time until he had plumbed my depths holding himself there.
A ridiculous thought passed through my mind, "buried to the hilt with Milt," and I giggled.
He questioned me, but I shook my head shyly.
It was a release though, that little laugh. For now my ass truly accepted his cock and just in time, because he was done with the slow breaking in part of my lesson. Now it was time for the full-length slow violin bowlike motion. He would pull slowly out and then drive back the whole way. Every single time was like a new penetration. My insides closed up around the retreating intruder and then had to relinquish ground anew on each offense.
Every time he would hit the point of full impact a little moan would leave my lips. I do not think that there is a single thing that I could consciously do about this. He would hit my spot and I would have a cascade of nervous reaction fire off through my body ending with "oh" or "uh" or "mmhm" always in a soft semi girlie tone.
Occasionally, it would heat up down there, but he seemed to have a good sense for when that was happening because he would pull back and I would hear the now familiar snap before he started thrusting anew. This happened a few times and I started to think. Oh my, he is going to fuck me forever.
A new race was set up and about to begin. Something about the races seemed to get him going. Maybe it was from memories gone past. It occurred to me that I certainly wasn't the first boy deflowered at this window. Whatever it was when the trumpet sounded this time and the horses were off it was like he was in the race as well. Something like the night before when I had a desperate desire to cum during that one music video.
Mr. Silver threw away all vestiges of his humanity and just started fucking me like a wild b**st. He forgot that it was my unbroken behind that he penetrated with such vigor, that I was new and fragile. He made low guttural noises and thrust hard and deep. The pain came screaming back at me and I squirmed, every part of my body wanting to escape but the sheer torrent, plunge after plunge did not stop. I could not get away.
I looked to the horses. Something, anything outside of myself, but found I could not see through the window anymore. Our reflection now seemed to take the foreground and I saw behind me a wild a****l fulfilling his basest desire.
With that he planted himself deep within me and burst his manly seed up into me. A cheer rose up from the crowd below, which was very surreal in itself. I knew it was for the horses. Maybe that was why he had the urgency. All I knew at that moment was he had stopped shoving that fire hot poker up inside me. I basked in the sense of relief.
He popped himself out and stood there breathing heavily. Immediately I had a feeling of emptiness up inside of me that I didn't know yet, but would follow me around for the next day and might have longer if something hadn't intervened.
Not knowing what to do, I reached back and felt my hole. I expected it to be opened the size of a quarter, but while loose to the touch it was actually closed. It was very wet from I assumed lube and possibly spit. I was overcome with emotion and did the only natural thing I could.
I fell to my knees the pants now around my ankles, and put my face down to his shoes kissing his feet and thanking him. He turned and walked to the bar and poured himself something to drink. I followed on my hands and knees, kind of shuffling my feet for a bit and then losing my pants altogether. Next he went over to one of the couches and lay down on his back with his left leg hanging over the side. His pants were open. He had pulled them up over his behind after he was done, but he hadn't closed up the front.
All was silent and I kneeled at his side for a minute or two listening to his breathing pattern return to normal. Looking at his cock glistening and returning to a flaccid state, I decided that it was my duty to clean him up since I had been responsible for the mess. I crawled back over to the bar area and got a cloth and small bucket of warm water and then crawled back over to him.
There wasn't really a reason I could place for all of the crawling; just that it seemed to feel right. The rug was a nice plush and it was comfortable on my knees. I guess it was just respect for the man that had done me a favor and broken me in. I know it may sound strange since it seems like I was the one doing him a favor giving up my ass and all, but that was how I felt just then.
I took the warm, moist rag and worked it slowly over his groin area first and then refreshing it I wiped his cock and balls. They reacted to my touch and he got semi-hard but not the whole way. He seemed to be asleep or so relaxed that he was about as close as one could get.
When he was clean to my satisfaction, I began to inspect his genitals thoroughly. His legs were covered with a very light hair, but when you got up to the scrotum the covering was more full. His balls were like baby bird eggs nestled gently in their pouch. Where each hair came out was a tiny bump, but aside from those and a few small veins the surface was smooth.
His penis now back to its softness was like a fatty finger with bigger veins on it. When I stroked it gently with my finger it reacted and underneath the skin it came to life moving around and expanding.
The tip or helmet of his cock was the most interesting to me. The slit in the middle formed the edges of two tender lobes on the underside. Where they meet I came to find out was the most wonderfully sensitive spot. I learned in time to make a man cum just by working that little bit with my tongue.
It is amazing to take a fully rigid member and flick it with my tongue on the under side doing nothing else and to be deluged with a fire hose blasts of cum. It always makes for a pretty facial, which the man enjoys perhaps as much as the orgasm itself and the act of me desperately trying to get all of the delectable juice into my mouth afterwards.
I stared at his sweet cock for a while and then laying my head sideways on his left leg, which was supported by the couch, I slipped his soft member into my mouth and sucked it slowly like a pacifier.
Spent from all of the activity of the past couple days. I drifted off to sleep.
___________________________________-
Plz comment if u want to see more chapters.
8 years ago
