Saturday, April 7, 2018

A Gay Victorian Affair

If you can get past the premise of a married couple in Victorian times having extra marital affairs then this is a fun, quirky comedy with plenty of talent. Don't expect the production value of Downton Abbey. This is an independent production, but still of very good quality from the sets and costumes to the direction and acting.

At 8 minutes the videos give a little view into these characters lives with a bit of humor and romance. Personally I enjoyed it's refreshing take. In the first episode I laughed the most at the jokes of Victorian dialogue of euphemisms for sexual acts. The second episode was more about a power dynamic between the two women.

Personally I'm looking forward to the butler's punishment though the trailer hints at a sexual contract. Just how far will it go? I'm willing to watch to find out. It's enough stimulation to get any romance writer or reader into thinking some naughty thoughts.

You can find the first episode here:

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Hard Sell Pt 07 - Fitting

That night after having his hole so thoroughly stretched by the massage therapist Mark showered and went to bed alone but very much thinking about Oliver.  They had sent a few text messages back and forth, an escalation of teasing and flirtation that had him falling asleep with his cum covered dick on one hand and his phone in the other as he relived and attempted to memorize everything that had been done to him.  A few times he’d slip a finger down to his hole just to see if it had regained its shape, it did but he didn’t feel the same.

Never before had his body been pushed so far, his senses maximized.  And the way Brad used him afterwards, fucked his throat.  If he closed his eyes he could still smell the sweat of him, his nuts resting on his upper lip.  He had been tempted to ask the man to stay.  He wanted a warm body in his bed, someone to cuddle with and talk to, whisper in his ear and maybe play with, but the man showed no interest as they sat on the couch together.  It was done.  He had gotten what he wanted.

The energy in the room was different.  Something had been accomplished, something had been gained.  He wanted to know more but at the same time he didn’t because it wasn’t much different than an anonymous hookup from an app or some guy he met at a bar or a club.  

Did the man have someone at home?  Was he paid for the service?  Mark didn’t ask any of those questions and decided to be content with the experience.  He watched the man carefully after he finished his beer and got up to find his clothes, the way his muscles moved and his skin stretched as he cleaned all of the dildos in the sink and put everything in his bag.  He walked him to the door and that was it.

The next morning he awoke with morning wood like few times ever in his life.  It wasn’t just the biological action of his body, the effect of needing to pee, no he was horny and wanting someone, something.  He rolled onto his back and tugged one out quickly before going to the shower.  Sex was on his mind as he got ready, as he ate breakfast, as he drove to work, and even as he sat down at his desk.  A lust had been awakened in him, a lust that had been dormant since college when he thought he realized reality couldn’t live up to fantasy.  And he started feeling the things other people told him to feel about monogamy and romance, tried to live out those stories that ended with marriage and a happily ever after.  Those ideals had always felt like a lie to him, an impossible, impractical standard.  Oliver was different, he had made fantasy into reality, given him sexual experiences not just between the two of them but with other men, scenarios and roles that he always thought he would have to connive out of a partner with some kind of wish list.

Work through the morning was a breeze, a few calls, a few emails, while looking up people on the rolodex of his phone.  He didn’t sell one car by lunch but he was okay with that so he took a deep breath, let his erection subside, and headed out for a bite to eat feeling confident and a little cheeky.  Instead of going to his usual place he went to his reward spot and ordered his favorite food, a casual sit down restaurant known for its quick service.  And for Mark it's cute waiters, young men in form fitting slacks.

Normally he’d sit and drool over the thought of taking one of them over the table and pounding them until he had an orgasm but that day he had not just the opposite fantasy but a more elaborate one, taking all of the waiters, being tied down with his tie and used by each of them in turn.  They’d run a train on him until his hole was dripping and sore, that would be good, he thought.  He was half in fantasy when he got a text message from Oliver.

[How are you feeling?]

He grinned at the message and looked around to make sure he couldn’t recognize anyone then held the phone close and wrote out a response.

[That was amazing.  Brad was a very thorough professional.  I can’t believe all the things he did to me.  I’ve never been used like that.  I’m on Cloud Nine right now.]

He realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled, then focused on his breathing as he waited for a response.

[I’m glad you don’t have any regrets.  Are you up for some more?]

Mark had an erection again and when he noticed the waiter was headed his way looking to clear his plate he waved the man off and looked around to make sure no one was watching him before entering a response.

[I’m up for anything.  In fact I’m having a fantasy right now about these guys at this restaurant I’m at for lunch.]

[Are they doing bad things to you?]

[Very bad.  All of them at the same time.]

[Good to hear you’re starting to think creatively, but we’re not there yet.]

His mood sunk a little at the comment.  Just what was he ready for?  What did Oliver have planned for him?  He bit his lip and sent back a text asking.  He didn’t have to wait long before getting a response.

[You looked cute in that suit and tie you wear.  I’m guessing you’ve got a half dozen shirts, a couple pair of slacks.  But maybe you need a new suit?  Go to my personal tailor, a friend of mine, Q&A Fashion.  I’ll let them know to be expecting you after work.  Make sure to wear clean underwear.]

A new suit?  Clean underwear?  Mark felt his hard dick twitch at the thought of it, move enough to feel the slime trail of his leaking dick in his underwear.  Well, there goes my clean briefs, he thought.  He bit his lip and a moment later he received a text with the address and directions, he read over it a few times, especially the part that said “park around back and enter through rear” because even that was stirring his imagination.  He groaned at the thought of going back to work, another few hours of trying to sell cars before he’d be able to go.  But everything had a cost and he figured he might as well get it over with so he called for the bill.

Back at work Mark made his way to his desk, checked his email, checked his messages and found a few potential customers looking to make appointments for the next couple of days.  He checked his schedule, replied to the emails, called back the few that had left messages.  He looked to the door hoping someone would walk through because he had a few leads but nothing too promising, nothing as good as a sale right then, but he was disappointed when Cody stepped into his vision with a grin on his face.

“Good day?” Mark asked.

“Awesome, just made a sale while you were at lunch.”

“Trying to make me look lazy?”

“I don’t have to try,” Cody replied, “you do it yourself.”

“Very funny, so what, you sold a car while I was out.  One of your regulars?”

“No, that’s the best part.  He came in looking for you.”


Mark reeled at the thought of Cody stealing one of his clients.  He crossed his arms and looked to the other man with narrowed, serious eyes.

“In the half hour I was gone you made a sale?”

Cody’s serious face broke into laughter.

“No, I’m just messing with you.  It wasn’t one of yours but yeah, I got him in talking to the finance manager right now to figure out a payment schedule.  But it’s all good, I mean you tried to steal one of mine anyway.”

“What?  Who?”

“Oliver,” Cody replied, “I know you took him for a test drive.”

The test drive?  How it all started, that, he was Cody’s?  Mark shrugged off the accusation.  Even if it were true it still led to the best time of his life.

“Yeah well,” Mark replied.

“It’s all good.  We sell cars.  It’s not like a committed relationship.  But next time, just know, you’re out of the office and someone walks through the door I’ll be on him.  I’ll close the deal whatever it takes.”

Mark thought about Cody doing whatever it takes, running naked around an abandoned airport, driving naked back to the dealership, sucking Oliver off in the car even if it didn’t lead to a sale right then, and he chuckled.

“Think it’s funny?  Well it’ll be your ass,” Cody said before walking away.
Your ass, Mark thought, and laughed again to himself.  And for the rest of the day Mark kept himself busy doing little things while he kept one eye on the door, occasionally he’d see Cody and he’d think, your ass and smirk to himself, but when it came time to leave he was quick to clear his desk and leave.  He put the address in his phone, connected that to his car, then drove.

An hour later, in a section of town he didn’t visit often, Mark took note of the nearby restaurants and bars as he found the place and a nearby parking garage.  He walked the half block back to the front door and paused for a moment.  Was Oliver serious about using the back entrance?  He looked up at the sign.  It had to be the same place, and yet, he thought about it, Oliver hadn’t misled him so far.  He let go of the door handle and walked around the side of the building, down the alley and to the back of the building where he found an ornate wooden door.

Classy, he thought to himself before he pulled it open and stepped through.  An aroma of wood and leather overwhelmed him for a moment as he looked around at what seemed to be an ordinary men’s clothing store: a couple racks of jackets, a display for slacks, against the far wall a shirt display, and even a display for underwear, a mix of classy boxers and those new briefs with the stretchy, clinging fabric.  A few men browsed through the clothes, mostly middle aged, one of them with his much younger boyfriend.  Mark spotted the register and the well dressed cashier behind it ringing up a purchase for one of the men.  He took a moment to look from wall to wall before he noticed that there were no front windows.  

This part of the store was separate from the front part of the store.  He looked to the man behind the register who noticed him in return and gave a curious tilt of his head then looked away suddenly self-conscious and nervous.  He started to move his feet, slowly he walked further into the store to one of the racks and began look over the jackets.  He noticed the man who had just checked out walk by him and look him over.  He looked back, noted the man’s expensive, leather shoes, his slacks, his tucked in shirt with an open collar.  The man had wealth and he had taste.  If he were anywhere else he might just chat the guy up and give him a business card, and yet he thought of Oliver and the reason he was there and it gave him pause.

He was about to give up, unsure of just what he was supposed to find there, when he saw the younger boyfriend take off his shirt right there in front of everyone to try on something new.  And that’s when he realized two things were missing, changing rooms and cameras, and he thought of Oliver’s text about getting a new suit, a complete suit he guessed, jacket, shirt, and pants.  Clean underwear, he thought, I forgot about getting clean underwear.  He started to head back for the door out when he ran into the cashier, bumped into him, and he stepped back and looked over the man.  He wasn’t an ordinary cashier.  He was fit, stylish.  He looked to be in his forties mostly though Mark suspected he was actually older, white hair and blue eyes.

“I uh, came to the wrong place,” Mark blurted out.

“Are you sure?  Aren’t you my appointment for a new suit?  Oliver said he’d be sending over someone new and now I can see why, look at you, oh you’re darling.”

Mark suddenly felt intimidated by the man as he stepped back once to get another six inches of distance between them.  The man looked him over and he felt like a piece of meat, measured and judged by each feature, put together and taken back apart, possibly even stripped in the man’s imagination, right down to his, his bare ass.  Mark gulped and bit his lip.  Was this what he wanted?

The other customers continued to browse but they were also looking to him, at him.  Were they all doing the same thing he thought of this man before him had been doing?  He was it.  He was the center of attention.  He looked to the door, felt the bead of sweat on his forehead and pool collect at the small of his back.  He was nervous.  He was actually nervous, he thought, and excited at the same time because if he stayed they’d all get to see him.  He might just be stripped of each piece of fabric.  He felt his dick harden, worried that they all saw the tent in his pants.  He was afraid, not of physical nor emotional harm, just the fear of something new and yet he nodded because yes he wanted this.

“I’m Quentin,” the older man said offering his hand.

“Mark,” he said taking hold of it.

He tried his best to shake with his firmest, most professional grip but the man’s wrist bent with the motion and he felt it go limp.  He was worried he had done something wrong but the man only stepped to him, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to the clothes and asked, “where should we begin?” Mark looked around at the different sections unsure of how or what he should say next and was about to just start talking, make some kind of noise, uhm or like, well, anything when Quentin interrupted him.

“Measurements, it’s always good to start with measurements,” he said.

And he ushered Mark across the store to an area where three mirrors surrounded a small step, a platform, a pedestal.  Mark felt the man urge him to get up on it so he did.  He was turned and faced back out to the rest of the store.  Suddenly a few inches taller he looked down on the rest of them and yet he was the one who felt ridiculous and the focus of attention.  He felt Quentin take hold of his tie and loosen it, pull it out and for a moment he breathed easier until the older man took hold of his belt buckle and he grabbed the man’s wrists.  And the man didn’t fight back, just let himself be taken and held.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, the best measurements are always closest to the skin.  I thought, maybe, I could strip you down for the most accurate results.”

The other customers were now all looking to him.  They were waiting, hunger in their eyes.  He thought he saw one of them lick his lips.  The younger man, the boyfriend, was shirtless as he stared back and yet Mark still felt the most vulnerable of them all.  And yet there it was, the younger boyfriend, shirtless, and so he relaxed and he let go of the tailor’s wrists.  Quentin quickly set about his task, belt out, fly open, pants down, shoes off, pants off, socks off.  Mark self consciously tugged his shirt down to cover himself.  Quentin pulled a measuring tape from his back pocket, ran it from his foot up his leg to the inside of his thigh right beside his balls.  He felt the back of the man’s hand.  Did it really have to be there so long?  Probably not.

For a moment he laughed to himself as he stood there with his shirt loose down to half of his thigh, slightly tickled by the tailor who moved to his other leg.  He watched as some of the other customers moved closer and some of them went back to shopping though keeping one eye on him.  He looked to their crotches and noted that most all of them were walking around with erections.  And he felt his own dick slide around against his briefs, leave a trail of ejaculate as he felt it harden.

This isn’t so bad, he told himself, but Quentin must have sensed his confidence because that’s when he took hold his shirt collar.  One button at a time, slowly and methodically until it was open, the man pulled it from his shoulders, tossed it on his pile of clothes.  Mark suddenly felt humiliated as he stood there wishing he had picked a different style of undershirt that day, the one day he had chosen tank top over crew neck.  He could have used the sleeves right then, the tighter collar, the way the fabric hung loose, but instead he was in a tank top.  The ribbed fabric clung to him, bare shoulders, bare clavicle.  He tried to cover himself with his hands and that’s when he remembered the three mirrors behind him.  They all could see him, all parts of him at the same time and from just about every angle.  He felt the way his briefs rode up his crack, part of one cheek a little more visible, and he wanted to pull it out, two fingers to the back of his underwear and he could cover himself.  But for how long?  He remembered the store sold underwear too.

Quentin asked him to remove his undershirt and he did, handed it over to the man who dropped it with the rest before reaching up to his hips, a hand on each side.  His fingers delicately inside the waist band, he pulled a little, then some more, and finally Mark felt the last fabric, the lost cover of decency, leave his body, down his hips to his ankles and then he stepped out of it.  He stood there before all of them naked, bare, his erect dick pointed at them.  They all took a moment to look.  They all saw him.

It could be worse, he thought, I could be bending over showing them my asshole.  And yet it was completely embarrassing, completely humiliating to be standing there in front of strangers, in the back of a store, in another store, a kind of fake store, clothing all around him, aisles and displays of clothing, his own clothing on the floor in a messy pile.  He looked down to see his briefs and for a moment he wanted them back.  He wanted them all back.  And yet as he stood there, felt his body in the cool air, the way his hard dick stuck out with the foreskin rolled back he was kind of proud because they were all looking at him.  They were all admiring him.  He moved his hands a little just to feel the under part of his forearm brush against the head of his dick and he bucked a little and the men smirked as they stared at him.  Quentin moved away, crossed the store to a door that he went through as discreetly as possibly.  He looked to his left and saw a man rub at his bulge in his pants.  They were all getting off on this.  

One man brazenly put his hands down inside his pants and began to stroke his hard dick.  He looked to where the man with the younger boyfriend had been joined by one of the other customers and the younger boyfriend had his hands down inside the men’s pants as they pawed him.  Mark licked his lips.  These men wanted him.  They were horny for him and yet they all stood back observing him as he stood there and suddenly he didn’t feel shame but pride so he put his hands at his side, took a deep breath, and held his shoulders up.  His hard dick in front of him, so hard it bent back, the foreskin peel away and the tip was red, a pearl of cum on it.

After several deep breaths he saw Quentin return accompanied by another much younger man, handsome with glasses and short, stylish haircut.  The new man walked ahead, crossed the room to where Mark stood and looked him in the eye.

“My name is Alfie,” he said, “and it looks like we’ve got a bit of a problem here, none of your clothes will fit with that big erection.”

Mark rubbed his fingers together.  This new man, this more in charge man somehow, he added a new element to it.  He felt as if his cheeks were on fire and he looked to the ceiling, watched the man out of the corner of his eye.  Alfie stepped closer, his cologne wafted into Mark’s nostrils and he could hear the other men in the room, the rustle of their clothes as they masturbated.

“On your knees boy,” Alfie commanded.

Mark dropped to his knees, his head still cocked back he looked up to the man as he stood before him in his slacks, his button down shirt, suspenders, a bow tie.  Alfie reached around to him, gripped the back of his head then pulled him into his crotch.  Mark felt the man’s erection underneath.  In the darkness of the cloth, firm against his thigh he gulped and moved his mouth as if the man’s dick was right there for him.  He wanted it.  His knees pressed into the carpet, toes bent, the way his butt cheeks parted and hung open, his hard dick and tight balls, his nipples hard.  He saw Alfie’s hand, fingers touched together on the zipper.  He heard the teeth slowly open, then he undid his belt, his pants.  Alfie pulled him to his dick, his face pressed into the other man’s underwear he felt his hard dick.

Slowly he moved up to the waistband of his underwear, bit into them with his teeth, pulled them down.  Alfie’s dick slapped against the side of his face.  He felt it run along his cheek to his ear and he tried to grip it with his lips.  Alfie placed his hand on Mark’s head and pushed him a little lower to his balls.  He took one in his mouth then the other, licked up the base along the shaft to the head.  He nipped at it, licked his lips and opened his mouth for Alfie to push inside, across this tongue to the back of his mouth to his throat he choked a little and pushed back.  The tailor pulled out and he gulped for breath, he felt his mouth fill with saliva.

Back into his mouth, out, in, out, Alfie’s fingers in his hair, he began to thrust in motion deeper each time into Mark’s mouth, his balls slapped against his chin.  Mark reached down to his own dick, felt his balls, gripped at his shaft, tugged a little and with just a little motion his fingers rubbed over the head and it happened.  He felt the spasm of his muscles, the rush and the tingle of pain as he ejaculated.  But it wasn’t over as Alfie continued to fuck his face, his lips began to swell, the other man gripped at his ears and his hair until finally he was pulled into his pubic hair and he felt the cum in his throat burn down to his stomach.  He pulled away and sunk down on his haunches, head down, spit ran out from his open mouth down to his chest, his belly, even on his own dick.

And just when he had gathered his breath he felt someone grab his ear and he realized it was Quentin, the older man who had stripped him.  He was pulled low to the floor to Alfie’s shoe where he saw his own ejaculate there on the leather.  Quentin spanked him twice and pulled him closer until he stuck out his tongue and he was forced to lick up what he had carelessly spilled.  He licked and sucked as the older man continued to abuse his bottom and pull on his ear until he had cleaned the entire shoe and then he was pulled to the carpet where he tasted some of it but also the fibers and he struggled and resisted so Quentin released him.  He pushed himself up to his knees and glared to the old man and was about to say something when Aflie squatted down in front of him, slapped him across the face and he looked back to him.

“Bad boy,” he said.

It was there again.  He felt himself back in the scene.  He would do anything for this young man.  He looked him in the eye for a moment, then looked down to the carpet and he saw the wet spot.  Slowly, carefully he lowered himself down on his hands, tried to lick at it without tasting the carpet.  For a moment he thought he had done exactly what was expected of him, especially when he heard the younger man’s cruel laughter that stirred his memory and he realized exactly where he was, exactly what he had done, and the other men, the strangers.  He pushed up and looked for them and was surprised to see most of them had gone.

“We’ll get to work on your suit right away sir,” Quentin said, “I believe we have everything we need.”

Alfie properly secured his dick back into his underwear and his pants, walked out of the room.  Mark looked over to his pile of clothes.  He crawled to them, got to his feet, pulled each article on one at a time.  He looked to Quentin who seemed to be preoccupied with his work, then he walked out.  The cool air was refreshing when it hit his red cheeks and lungs.  He breathed deep, adjusted his dick, and walked back to his car slowly memorizing for himself everything he had been subjected to in some attempt to remember every detail even the taste of the carpet.