PIG - Pretty Important Guy

Pretty
Important
Guy

Content Advisory: Contains scenes of non-consent, humiliation, spanking, finger penetration, masturbation, ejaculation, and degradation.

Being a large man has its benefits and problems, but one of the benefits is most people move out of my way, especially smaller dudes. I don't push people around, far from it, but it's usually just easier for them to move, so when I rounded the corner in the locker room to find a short, college guy there I just expected him to move.

Instead he stood there and looked me in the eyes, not being one to back down I stared back until he poked me in the belly and broke into laughter. There I stood in my underwear, white t-shirt tucked into my briefs on my way to the shower and this little guy poked me.

"I'm sorry, you look too much like the dough boy," he said, "laugh for me."

But I just stood there, embarrassed and angered, my hands balled into fists, my face turned red, but I just stood there with my towel over my shoulder as I tried to not yell or punch him. He poked me again, laughed more. I stepped closer and got in his face.

"Little brats like you need a spanking, that's the problem of the youth today, no spankings, no corporal punishment, can't even grab hold of someone in case it goes on the internet."

"Who is going to give it to me? Not you dough boy, just look at you, I'd whoop your ass."

Our threats had been made and for a moment neither of us yielded, but then somehow he declared himself victor and walked away. I shrugged it off and mostly forgot about it.

A few days later when I was back at the gym and working out on the bench press when two figures stepped beside me. I looked up to see the young man, ready to exercise in gym shorts and tank top, he stood next to a tougher looking friend who had tattoos.

"My friend wants to talk to you," the young man said.

"Look, I don't want any trouble, just let it be," I said.

"Oh, he doesn't want trouble," they mocked.

I sat up, wiped the sweat from my brow and looked to them as they waited with crossed arms.

"Give me both of your names, I'm reporting you for harassment."

"Roger," the first one said.

"Elliot," the second replied.

"Wait right here then," I said as I stood.

Even just by a few feet away I was twice their size, but the second one, Elliot, had a look in his eyes so I tried to stare back. He bit his lip and puffed up his shoulders so I flexed my arms a little, the only muscle that's impressive for me.

"Whatever," he said, and they both walked away.

I stood confused, eventually I went back to my routine, when I finished I went back to the locker room. I stripped off my exercise clothes, put my towel over my shoulder, and I was headed to the showers when I heard that familiar giggle. The locker room was otherwise empty, one of those off times during the regular business day, and I just felt it, this panic in my shoulders I hadn't felt since I was a boy. I'd have to confront them both, right there, in my underwear at a public gym.

"Where you going fat boy?"

It was Elliot. The words stuck in me like pins. It even made me wince. I turned to see them. Roger was in shorts stained with sweat. Elliot stood there shirtless, his muscled chest covered in tattoos.

"No, I told you he's the dough boy," Roger replied.

"What is it? Are you a fat boy or a dough boy?"

"Neither, just leave me alone."

"That depends, are you going to move out of our way from now on?"

I turned and started to walk away.

"If I have to come after you I'm going to give you that spanking you threatened to give my friend yesterday. Now get back over here and deal with us like the men we are."

I turned and walked right up to them, yeah I was an old man standing in front of them in my underwear, but I'd stopped being embarrassed about my body. Elliot looked me up and down. Roger held back laughter.

"Do you think you're a tough guy?" Elliot asked, "because I'm tougher."

"Both of you deserve a spanking," I replied.

That's when I made my second big mistake. I tried to grab hold of Elliot. I don't even know what I'd do after, I just reached for him. That's when he grabbed my pinky and bent it back. I cried out in pain, tried to get away, but as I turned he twisted which brought me to my knees. I whimpered. They laughed.

"I could beat you up old man, give you a spanking, but I'm not going to-"

"Thank you," I pleaded as he still held my finger.

"-but that's as long as you do something for me."

"Anything," I said as I expected he wanted money.

"Anything?"

"Did dough boy just offer anything?"

He let go of my finger and I cradled it.

"Assume the position over this bench," he ordered.

I did. There I was at my gym in the locker room over a bench with my big ass stuck out and vulnerable. Roger took hold of the waistband and pulled the cloth snug over my cheeks. Elliot ran his pointer finger between them to let the cloth settle into my crack and let me know just how vulnerable I was. They both laughed then they both swatted me at the same time, one used his left hand, the other his right, both cheeks felt it.

It had been a long time since I had been spanked. At first it didn't feel like anything, just these flat hands that made this clapping sound, but as they continued to strike me, after the shock had worn off, I realized the pain built up. Not just in my butt, my hands and knees against the hard, tiled floor, my belly against the wooden bench.

One of them took hold of my underwear and pulled it to my knees. There I was on all fours, the fabric stretched between my open thighs, my little dick and shrunken balls hung down to feel the cool air. My cheeks slightly open, they continued to slap them, each hit affirmed their shape and size. My butt was no longer this extra part of me, this function, a tool, something between my legs and my back.

My butt was in pain and it was getting worse. They spanked every inch of soft flesh, each impact confirmed the shape, the size of my butt and its ability to absorb the blow. They spanked me until the skin felt warm and tingly, little points of pain that radiated through my body. They spanked me until I lost control of my muscles and they twitched and spasmed without my control. They turned that part of my body against me. And I began to cry.

Cold droplets leaked from between my eyelids and down to my lips. I could taste the saltiness of my tears, my nose became stuffy. I had lost control, not only of the situation, a situation I could have walked away from, but of myself. This ball of pain in my stomach that I had unknowingly been carrying around with me, this tight ball of fear, it was like the breeding ground for snakes, it wriggled and squirmed up through me into these howls of desperation. The two young men finally stopped and I fell into this quiet sob, fully aware of just how humiliated I had been, unable to run I just lay there.

Roger stepped in front of me and squatted down, took hold of the hair on my head to turn it and look me in the eyes. He wiped the tears from my face with his free hand then licked them from his fingers as he laughed at me. This big grin on his face he wiped up more tears then put his fingers to my lips. With one last grasp at my pride I tried to refuse.

"This finger is going in your hole boy," he said, "the only lubricants are your tears and your spit."

I opened my mouth but he didn't push in all of the way, no he touched my lips as if to confirm I had opened them just for him and his finger. He ran it along the shape, smooth across the bottom.  He played with that little bump in the middle of my top lip.

When he touched his finger to my tongue it was salty and bitter, I wanted to spit it out or bite down on it, but I knew I was too vulnerable, too defeated, so he pressed inside all of the way to my throat. That's when I realized he didn't just want the spit from my mouth but the mucous from my throat as I began to choke he held me in place by my hair.

Two fingers, his two fingers, across my tongue, back and forth until I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of air and exhaustion. He let go of my hair, pulled his fingers from my face, but I just laid there over the bench. He walked around behind me, put his finger between my butt cheeks, right to the hole, and he pressed into that ring of flesh, right into me, inside, all of the way to his last knuckle of his pointer finger.  Slowly he pulled out, for a moment I thought it was over, then he pushed two inside, the pointer and the middle, both went deep and wide, wider than anything I had ever stuck up there. Wider than my own finger, wider than a thermometer. I let out a whimper and he pulled out.

He was done with me. They were done with me. Or so I thought. Roger pulled me from the bench and let me fall to the floor on my side, then he rolled me onto my back where he sat on my chest and took hold of my nipples and pulled on my soft breasts.

"Squeal piggy, I want to hear you squeal."

This little piggy squealed. He twisted and pulled on my nipples and soft man boobs until the pain became something else, this inescapable force. He only stopped when he realized I had stopped reacting, then he slapped my face and commanded me to open my eyes, which I did. I looked up to see him, his small framed body sat upon me in victory. He pulled down the front of his shorts to show me his erect dick trapped by the jock, the bulbous head peaked out over the waistband. He looked into my eyes as he pulled the pouch down under his balls to show me just how big and stiff it was. He took hold of it, stroked it, with just a few movements of his hand he bucked his hips and warm, creamy ejaculate covered my face. Elliot stepped beside him and looked down at me, let a long string of spit descend from his lips to mine.

There I lay on my back, covered in their fluids, my stretched out underwear at my ankles, exhausted and gasping for air. Roger fed me his cum from my face, then stood and tucked his dick back inside his jock where he adjusted it before he pulled the front of his shorts up. He was done with me. They were done with me, but somehow, somewhere deep in my soul I knew I wanted more.

Str8 Ch 01 CFNM, tentacle male

The summer heat lingered in the air as Marco and Roger sat on the pool deck to Roger’s home quietly drinking a 17 year old single malt Scotch.  This was their way to celebrate and wind down at the end of the week, no wife and no husband, just two old friends drinking together.  They had known each other since college, been roommates for a year before Roger finally came out about being homosexual.  Marco had suspected it since they first met because girls, young women, preoccupied his mind and he was always trying to figure out how to meet them, how to date them, and how to get them into bed.  When he was with another guy it was his favorite subject because he wanted to know any tip or trick to doing it.  Roger was the opposite, always shy about it, and Marco had suspected he was either gay or a virgin.

But then he realized most of Roger’s friends were women and that he could chat them up with ease, that’s when he realized his roommate was gay, well had his suspicions, and a after a year of waiting his friend finally said it, “I’m gay” to which Marco responded, “so can we work on your wingman skills to get me dates?”

That was actually how Marco met Heather, she was one of Roger’s friends and they’d all go out together.  Eventually the two got to talking and then Roger started setting them up on dates where he’d say something came up unexpected.  It worked three times until one night when Roger came back to their apartment and found Marco in the middle of a marathon of a show he knew he hadn’t watched before.  Marco walked into the room quietly and sat down.  He was just about to say something, accuse his roommate of setting them up on a date, when Roger spoke first.

“So how was your date?”

“So you were setting me up,” Marco replied with a bit of faked anger.

“Well, I knew that you liked each other and I was getting tired of being the third wheel, and I figured you two make a cute couple.  Did it work out?”

“I think I’m going to marry her,” Marco replied.

“Whoa, whoa, we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves,” Roger said.

But it was true, it happened.  And after college they got married.  For a while they all lived in the same apartment until one day Roger decided to move out.  He said he needed space, in truth he was tired of knowing his two best friends were having sex, and so he moved out first into an all gay house, though that didn’t last long, because he got tired of his roommates eating his food.  Marco and Heather moved out of the apartment a few months later and into their house which her parents helped them buy.  Roger struggled for years until he met his husband, Thomas, who Marco had introduced him to as one of their neighbors at Thomas’s pool party.

They had known each other so long that there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.  There were no more interesting stories, few surprises.  And that was the nice thing about being old friends, Roger thought, those quiet moments of silence when neither felt obligated to speak but after that moment had passed he looked to Marco who had an inquisitive look on his red face.  One too many drinks, this is going to be a good one, he thought so he prepared himself and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’m finally drunk enough to ask this,” Marco said, his face got even more red as he spoke, “but I have to know...”

“Know what?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what-” Roger thought for a long moment, “oh, you mean- Why are you asking me about, you know, butt stuff?  Are you trying to get Heather to, you know, do it?  I don’t know what it’s like for a woman.  It’s different.  I mean, you know how it works right, about the prostate?”

“I’ve read a little about it, but it’s like, I don’t know.  I’ve gotten just about every opinion from it hurts to it doesn’t hurt and some people talk about the prostate but it seems like if the other person doesn’t know what they’re doing then it could go wrong.  I mean I’ve only ever stuck a finger up there and it’s like, I don’t know, good and bad at the same time, like it’s a different feeling, but I don’t think I could reach my prostate and so it’s like having something shoved up there just seems painful.”

“Are we still talking about the same thing?”

“What?”

“Are we talking about you getting Heather to have anal sex or are we talking about something else?”

Marco closed his mouth, retreated back into his chair, then crossed his arms.  Roger looked to him for a moment trying to elicit some further communication but when he saw how defensive his friend had gotten he wondered if he had made a mistake in the conversation.  Should he have just assumed that Marco was talking about himself?  Roger finished his drink and motioned for Marco to do the same, which he did, before pouring them each another shot.  Marco downed it then leaned back into the conversation.

“I need to say this before I can’t speak.  Heather wants to try pegging me.  For a while it was all she would talk about and that’s why I tried it on myself with my finger.  It was uncomfortable and to be honest kind of messy so like it’s not something I want to do without knowing about it.  Like it’s our five year anniversary coming up and I want to get her something special but when I’ve looked online at the dildos it’s very intimidating.  I saw this one...”

Marco’s words slowed to a stop and remained locked inside his brain as some thought that bounced around his head.  He sat back in his chair, then immediately took off his shirt and said he felt too warm.  Roger looked over his friend, smirked to himself that Marco was still fit, still worked out regularly.  He took the chance to observe his friend’s physique and his tattoos, then leaned back into his chair and tried to adjust his dick without being noticed.  He finished his drink and they both sat quietly looking into the pool that was partially illuminated by lights around its sides.  He looked to his friend and was about to speak when the sliding door opened and he looked up to see Thomas standing there with an amused look on his face.

“Two drunks sitting by the pool,” he said.

“I’m going for a swim,” Marco blurted out before standing.

“Wait, wait, phone,” Thomas said and Marco turned to him and handed over his phone and his wallet before walking to the pool and jumping into the water.  He made a large splash then stood up in the shallow end a few moments later and stepped backwards to the wall where he put out his arms on either side of him and exclaimed, “this feels so good.”

Thomas looked to Roger who motioned for him to sit and poured him a drink using Marco’s glass.  Thomas downed it and looked to where Marco stood in their pool and he had a realization.

“I think Marco is pissing himself in our pool,” he said.

“Better in the pool than pissing himself sitting here,” Roger replied.

“Yes,” Thomas said, “I wouldn’t want to clean up that mess.”

“What mess?” Roger asked.  He had forgotten what he had just said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Thomas answered.

“It’s all good.  We were just drinking.  I think we had too much, but Marco there deserves it.  Heather wants to stick a dildo up his butt.”

“I’m right here,” Marco said over his shoulder, “I can still hear you.”

“Really?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, she wants to peg him but he’s worried about the pain.  He says he stuck a finger up there and he’s not sure he likes it.  I think he should try one of Heather’s dildos.  That’s what I was going to say to him before he jumped in the pool.  He should try a dildo and then if he likes it she can go at him with one of those big ol’ strap ons.”

“It’s a popular thing now,” Thomas replied, “lots of straight guys are figuring out anal sex isn’t such a big deal.”

“I know, but they have to get over the emasculation first, and the fear of not being- not being a man- and they’ll realize it feels good.”

“And when was the last time something got put up your butt?” Thomas replied.

Roger looked to him.  It was their own personal secret, or at least private thing.  Roger was usually the top and rarely if ever did he put something up his butt even for just a little bit of fun.  He shook off the question and stood.  Thomas watched him begin to strip, not just his shirt but he dropped his shorts and underwear too.

“We still have company,” Thomas said, “and neighbors.”

“Marco has seen me.  I’ve seen him.  It’s no big deal.  It’s not like I’m going to fuck him.  Hey Marco are you okay with me being naked?”

“I’m fine,” Marco replied.

“Do you want to take off your clothes and we can go skinny dipping?”

“Too late,” Marco replied before tossing his soaking wet shorts and underwear onto the pool deck.

They both laughed and Thomas sighed before looking up to his neighbors’ windows to see if there were any lights on or any motion of someone watching them.  He didn’t see any so he just hoped for the best.  Roger walked to the pool, his feet slapped against the cement, and then he jumped into the water.  When he emerged Thomas was surprised to see him in a panic and stroking to reach Marco who quickly pulled him to the wall.  Thomas got up to his feet but stopped when he realized they were both safe, though they were face to face with Roger gripping the wall behind Marco.  They laughed and giggled.

“Aw dude, your dick is touching my dick,” Marco said.

“Sorry, it’s just, I almost drowned,” Roger replied, “I swallowed some water.”

“And it’s hard,” Marco said before trying to move Roger away to one side.

Roger gave in to his friend’s hands and moved beside him but clung to the wall.  Thomas sat and watched them carefully.

“I bet you’d never feel my hard dick again,” Roger joked.

“When did that happen?” Thomas asked from the shadows.

“Our second year together his parents came for something or other and we decided to share the bed-”

“We were sharing the room.  You decided to share the bed,” Marco replied.

“And you knew he was gay?”

“Yeah, I came out to him months prior.  Well, we both needed a good nights sleep so I asked him to share my bed.  It was fine at first, we even made up this little dividing line down the middle, but Marco here is a restless sleeper and at some point we got intertwined with each other, my hard dick ended up on his thigh by the time we woke up.  It was hilarious.”

“You thought it was hilarious, I blocked it from my memory until now.”

Thomas shook off the thought and cleared his throat.  He wanted a return to normal.  He wanted to go to bed but he didn’t want to leave two drunks, two naked drunks, in his pool.

“Are you both done?” he asked.

“I’m ready to get out,” Marco said.

“Me too, I’m too drunk for this.”

They both started to move along the wall to the stairs.  When Roger struggled with them Marco was quick to grab him from behind and push him up.  Together they emerged from the water and walked to where Thomas sat, Marco behind Roger partially holding him up and Roger half asleep.  Thomas was quick to take him in his arms and help them both inside where he let Roger slide to the ground and helped Marco to a chair.  He retrieved towels for them and helped his husband Roger to the bedroom before returning to find Marco asleep in the chair with the towel over his chest and his dick laying across his thigh.  He took a moment to appreciate the naked man before him then retrieved his phone and sent a text to Heather that Marco was drunk and would sleep it off at their house, then he locked the sliding door and strategically turned out the lights before going to the bedroom.

The next morning with the sunrise, Marco awoke to find himself naked in his best friend’s home not entirely sure why.  He wrapped the towel around himself, found his still wet clothes on the pool deck, then walked home to find Heather still in bed.  She helped him to it and they fell asleep together.  That afternoon Roger knocked at his door wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.  He handed over his phone and wallet.  Marco invited him inside the house, a sheet wrapped around himself in some attempt at a toga.

“Are we still friends?” Roger asked.

“What all did we do?”

“Nothing, you know, I didn’t rape you.”

“Whoa, who said anything about rape?  I mean, I kind of remember what happened, and if anything I’d probably be the one raping you,” Marco shot back.

“I feel like shit,” Roger said to break the conversation.

“Little hair of the dog?”

“So we’re still friends?”

“Of course we’re still friends.  Our partners probably hate us, but of course we’re friends, even if you poked me in the belly with your little, hard dick,” Marco said.

“Little?”

“Okay, big, hard dick,” Marco said.
He poured them each a drink of whiskey and they downed it.  He motioned for Roger to sit on the couch and they sat next to each other.

“Is Heather out?”

“Yep.  Is Thomas out?”

“No, but he kind of said I had to find something to do for a while.”

“Kicked you out?”

“Just for a little bit.  I get kind of cranky when I’m hungover and he said I only can blame myself but we, you, had serious stuff to talk about last night.”

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do.  Are you going to do it?”

“I think so,” Marco replied.

“Then here, take this, it’s the address and number for a discreet sex toy store.  I recommend you go there and find the smallest dildo then work your way up.  You can get all kinds, some vibrate and they feel really good.”

“If I remember from last night you don’t stick anything up your butt,” Marco said.

“What?  You remember that?  No, it’s not, I mean...”

“Let’s never talk about this again?” Marco asked.

“Deal,” Roger replied.



Find the second part: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/str8-part-two-eight-loving-arms.html
 This and other stories are on my Patreon Campaign: https://www.patreon.com/brieflytoldstories

Hard Sell Part 4 - Morning Fun

Mark awoke face down to the feeling of Oliver's warm body pressed against him, his dick between his cheeks. Mark reached down to his own dick, rubbed it down between his thighs, tickled the head. Oliver's warm breath against his neck. He felt Oliver kiss and press against him more until he was atop him, his hand trapped under his own body. Oliver kissed down his spine, ran his fingers along his sides.

Pressed into the bed, his head turned against the pillow he felt the weight of the man who kissed down between his cheeks, then his tongue came out and teased his hole. He rubbed at his dick, parted his cheeks. Oliver reached between his thighs, took hold of his dick, and tickled the head with his fingertips that became slick with ejaculate. Mark reached out with his free hand and took hold of the metal frame bars.

Oliver licked and kissed, pulled him up a little to get deeper. Mark felt the pleasure run up through his spine to his heart. His skin felt tight, sweat formed on his back. He pulled away, rubbed his dick against the bed, but Oliver wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him back up onto his knees.

He followed the spit from his mouth as it ran down over his younger lover's balls. He took each one into his mouth and sucked on them before running his tongue down the shaft. He took Mark's dick in his mouth and pulled him up higher until his knees were under his chest, his throbbing dick between his thighs got trapped. He reached back with both hands and pulled on his cheeks. Oliver licked back up, sucked each testicle again, then up to the pink hole. He licked and sucked at the wrinkled opening, he touched his fingertips to it and continued to pry as he stuck his tongue inside. He loved the feeling of Mark opening to him.

"Oh my god." The words escaped Mark's lips. He felt a pleasure like never before as if his hole and his dick were the only parts of his body.  Red hot and sensitive, a slight touch from Oliver, fingers over the head, down the shaft to the base, a slight tightening of the grip.  He gave in to the man’s touch, felt their hairy legs rub against each other as Oliver moved closer behind him, his hard dick at his hole.  He grunted and tried to relax as he felt the other man push against him and slowly, very slowly push inside until he was all the way to his balls.

That’s when he felt Oliver’s hand on the back of his head to push his face down into the mattress and he gave in to it.  One side of his face against the cool bed sheet he surrendered to the man who worked himself into a rhythm, his balls slapped against Mark’s taint.

“I want you to remember me,” Oliver said.

“I definitely will now,” Mark replied.

“Do you love this?  Do you love getting fucked?”

“I do,” Oliver confessed into the bed.

Oliver pushed against him harder and faster, his balls slapping, harder and faster until the bed was squeaking and the headboard was hitting the wall.  Mark felt himself relax with the sensation of a dick in his ass even as his skin tightened and warmed.  His ears burned, his cheeks flushed, his lips sensitive, and his nipples became hard, sensitive points as they rubbed against the bed.  He reached back with one hand and grabbed his dick.  It wouldn’t take much more.

Oliver reached up over his shoulder to his chin, his probing fingers found their way to Mark’s lips, then inside his mouth past his teeth.  He sucked at them.  He loved the feelings, the sensations.  Harder and faster, he heard a slap against his ass and felt it a moment later, another slap on the other cheek.  Oliver pulled his fingers out of his mouth and grabbed hold of his shoulder, each shoulder, as he pushed him into the bed and deeper inside, all of the way.  And that’s when he felt it.  He heard the man groan and felt fingers dig into his flesh, moments later Oliver ejaculated deep inside of him and he took hold of his own sensitive dick, fingers at the tip, slippery with his own ejaculate, his own orgasm imminent, then it happened.

A moment of pleasure and pain, breathless and unstoppable, no past and no future just that moment.  He felt as if the core of his being was being released through his dick as his muscles tightened.  A moment later he quivered and felt weak before falling to the bed as he felt Oliver pull out and move to lay beside him so they could stare into each other’s eyes.  They smiled at each other, Mark flat against the bed, his dick against his belly surrounded by a pool of his own ejaculate, his ass felt used as his hole tried to regain its former shape, a familiar pain that wasn’t completely unpleasant.  Oliver sighed and caught his breath before reaching back over to his ass, put two probing fingers between his cheeks to his aching hole as if to claim it again and make sure Mark knew who had just fucked it.

“Did you like that?” Oliver asked.

“Yes,” Mark said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pull out but I just got so into it, so into you I didn’t want out.  You’re so warm and welcoming.  There have been very few like you who could really take my dick.”

Mark laughed nervously at what the man had told him.  It was a compliment, but not the normal kind, a compliment of his sexual capability.  And it was intimidating so he turned away but Oliver wouldn’t have it and promptly slapped him on the butt playfully.

“Look at me,” he said, “I want to see you.  I love seeing you this way.”

Mark turned his face back to Oliver.  His body slowly relaxed, what had been warm became cold and messy.  He felt Oliver’s hand return to his ass, his fingers back at his hole to probe his opening.

“That was a lot of fun,” Mark said.

“Would you want to do it again?”

“Of course,” Mark said.

“What else would you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you have some other fantasies?”

“Many,” Mark said.

“Tell me,” Oliver said.

And just like that, naked on his stomach with another man probing his battered hole he felt himself confessing some of his darkest fantasies, things he had thought up at different, random moments of his life, actions and feelings, notions that had solidified in his thoughts at night before he fell asleep.  What if this happened, what if someone did this to me, not just one man but several men, different men, encounters with strangers that turned into something sexual.  He told Oliver about his fantasies as they lay there until he exhausted himself and just when he thought the man had gotten bored he propped himself up on his elbows and began to apologize.

“Not that this wasn’t fun, not that you’re not enough,” Mark said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Oliver said before moving to kiss him on the lips.  “We all have fantasies and maybe sometimes they can come true.  I’ve lived out many of mine.  You should get a chance to live out yours.”

“But I like this.  I like you.  What we did, I mean,-” he blushed “-it was amazing, last night with the foreplay and the little, you know games, and this morning, you just took me like that, I’ve never, you know, had that before and it’s still early in the morning.  I haven’t had breakfast yet and I still need to go to work.”

“Speaking of which, let’s get you cleaned up,” Oliver said before slapping him on the ass.  He rolled away and got to his feet.

“Oh really,” Mark said before sliding from the bed and getting up behind Oliver.  He wrapped his arms around the man from behind, felt his hairy chest, his muscles and pulled him close until his dick was nearly against Oliver’s butt though their height difference was completely evident he still loved the feeling of the man’s skin, their skin rubbing together.  He loved the smell of the man, the musky odor of cologne but something else too, his sweat.

They stood like that for a moment before Oliver pulled him along to the bathroom and they made their way to the shower, his confessions nearly forgotten.

CP - Chapter 02: Prospects

While waiting for our brunch compatriots my husband and I, like most people these days, had the bad habit of using our phones instead of making small talk or paying much attention to the people around us.  He was shopping online while also perusing through nearby gay men on his hookup app.  It wasn’t just to find someone for a hookup, because he did that occasionally, but he had a game he liked to play of trying to identify men from their pictures and proximity, especially if there wasn’t a face.  He also had a knack, like me, of picking out the fake accounts of people using pictures of male porn models.  He chuckled to himself before holding his phone for me to see a picture of a slim young man, no face, abs and big dick.

“I think that’s the waiter over there,” he said.

I looked over to the waiter then to the picture.  It could be, I thought, and agreed with a nod of my head before looking back to my own phone where I was searching through personal ads on a spanking app.  I was determined to find someone, a man, and soon.  Gay or straight didn’t matter as much as wanting to be spanked by another man.  I had marked several as prospects when I came upon and ad that struck me to the heart.

Ad: My name is Luke, 24, recently moved out of my parents’ home after getting a job after college.  I’ve been on my own for 6 months and have picked up some bad habits: binge drinking, anonymous hookups, poor eating, and spending all of my money.  I’m really stressed about my job and losing it because I really don’t want to move back with my parents if I can’t find another one.  Everyone at work is a backstabber and my boss is really passive aggressive so I don’t know where I stand with him because he’s not very responsible himself.  I’m looking for a disciplinarian relationship, nothing sexual, probably.  Is there anyone who can help me?

I sighed at the ad.  It was the content and also the premise as many young men have flaked on me about 85% of the time, most never respond to my first message, few make it to the first meeting, and even less return for more.  But there was something about it, the fact that it was so well composed and he knew what he wanted.  I clicked for a response:

Response: Hello Luke, I’m an experienced dom, not necessarily interested in a sexual relationship but open to it if things develop.  I do set strict personal boundaries though and really I’m looking for a young man into being spanked or who wants to try it.  I have had relationships with young men like yourself looking for a disciplinary relationship rather than a sexual one, gay and straight.  I’d be willing to meet with you sometime, we could talk over what we’d each want out of it and how to proceed to bring about a mutual satisfaction.  I’d be dedicated to helping you straighten up and improve yourself so that you can have a successful, independent future.  If you’re interested reply back to start a conversation.

I sent the message on impulse.  And for one brief moment I began to fantasize about the young man I contacted.  I felt all of those emotions as if I were back on a dating app looking for a boyfriend: hope he’d say yes, anticipation with being someone new that I hadn’t spanked before, and dreading the real, probable fact that he’d ghost me.  I bit my lip and turned off my phone as I looked to Eric who had a grin on his face.

“Well?” I asked.

“It’s him.  I sent him a message and he replied already.  I’m talking to him right now.  He thinks you’re kind of cute but just wants a quickie in the alley.”

I rolled my eyes with mild amusement and motioned for him to leave me and do what he had to do.  He sent back a message before getting up from the table and walking back towards the restrooms and ultimately the exit.  I sighed and looked to the front door only to be surprised and pleased when I saw two of the people we’d been waiting for enter.  Franklin and Dave, a gay couple we had known for years.  There had never been anything sexual between us, though a few times we all did end up naked in their hot tub together after some drinks, but that was just a little bit of fun.  

They made their way over to the table and sat.  Franklin immediately began to complain about parking.  Dave greeted me with his shy but insistent hello before listening to Franklin in that way of knowing what he’d say even before he said it.  When he finished his rant Dave spoke up and asked where Eric was.

“He’s out back, uhm, attending to personal matters,” I said.

“That boy gets away with too much,” Franklin said.  “I came here to eat not wait around and for his twink ass.”

“Will he be very long?” Dave asked.

“Depends on who is doing whom I guess, you know how Eric likes to drag these things out with someone,” I answered.  “But we’re still waiting on Troy and Steve so...”

“Steve can’t make it,” Dave said, “I talked with him earlier when we were still at home and he said he’s a bit tied up at the moment.”

“What about Troy?” I asked.

“I didn’t talk to him.  I texted but I didn’t get a response.  You know how he likes to keep people waiting.”

“He’s always late,” Franklin said.

“He’s kept me waiting several times,” I said.  “Once when we were supposed to go out to a concert he decided to hook up with some guy at a shoe store.  I waited at this bar, got pretty drunk, I made him pay for the taxi to get me home afterwards.”

“That sounds like Troy,” Franklin said.

“Want to make bets on his excuse this time?” Dave asked.

I thought over the possibilities but Dave was quicker.

“I say five bucks that he met some guy last night and brings him to brunch,” Dave said.  “And the guy barely speaks English.”

“He does have a thing for people who don’t make small talk,” Franklin said.

“Five says he lost his phone in someone’s car and slept in this morning,” I replied.

We sat for a moment and thought of more possibilities and were about to keep talking when Eric stepped out from the hallway and greeted everyone with a big, “hello” so we stopped and looked to him.  He resumed his seat with a big smirk on his face.

“Well?” I asked.

“It was quick.  He was nervous about it so I just gave him a hand job.”

“Eww,” Franklin said.

“Messy,” Dave said.

“I used his apron to wipe off my hand.  He hated that part but I wasn’t about to lick it clean, besides if he’d sucked me off there wouldn’t be a need to clean up.”

“TMI,” Franklin said.

“At least he didn’t mess his pants or anything,” Dave said, “that happened to me once and-”

“Okay, enough sharing,” Franklin interjected, “let’s talk about something else.”

We all looked around at each other and were surprised and delighted when moments later we spotted Troy and some new trick peeking through the window to find us before entering.  Troy pulled the young man by the wrist and pushed his way inside and shambled to our table.

“Hello,” I said to Troy’s new friend.

“Hi,” he replied with a small wave of his hand.

“Everyone this is Renaldo.  Renaldo this is everyone.”

I looked to Dave and Franklin who looked back to me and we all started laughing.  Troy was oblivious as usual and set out for the bar for drinks.  We fell into conversation.  Troy’s new friend didn’t say a thing and just looked uncomfortable and desperate to get out of there until he returned with two Bloody Mary drinks.  He gave one to his friend then drank at his before sitting down and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“What were we discussing?” he asked.

“Never mind,” I replied.

Brat in the Frat Ch 04 - Cherry

The following week was one of those Saturdays when I should have been doing homework but instead found myself in bed, in my underwear, and taking turns with my different social media apps on my phone.  I was doing nothing productive.  I felt great. 

My roommate was gone for the weekend, a trip home to do laundry and visit with his family.  I had none of those urges.  I knew how to use the washer and dryer in the basement of the dorms and hated the idea of explaining myself, where I’m going, what I’m doing, etc. to my parents.

By three o’clock my stomach started to growl with hunger and I started to feel the need to get food.  There weren’t many options for the weekends on campus and I hated the idea of leaving for something.  I checked my wallet and found ten dollars cash.  Enough for one or two meals depending on where I ate.  I sighed at my prospects and was about to get out of bed and start doing something when I got a phone call from Brad.  He was still after me to join the frat even though I kept refusing.  But maybe, just maybe he’d have some motivation and need to get some food.  I answered it on the second ring.

“Hey,” I said.  I was trying to be cool.

“Where you at?”

I looked around my dorm room suspiciously.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you still in the dorms or did you go home for the weekend like everyone else?”

“No, I’m in my dorm room.  My roommate went home for the weekend though.  I’ve just been laying in bed doing nothing all day.  Actually, I’m kind of hungry.”

“Text me your room number and I’ll stop by and then we can go get something to eat,” he replied, “see you in a bit.”

He ended the call and I texted him my room number before I tossed my phone away to the bed.  I looked around at the state of my room, clothes everywhere and I was still in my underwear.  I jumped to my feet, pulled on sweat pants and an old t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad, then began to clean up.  Some of the clothes were Kevin’s so I just shoved them under his bed, mine I stuck in a hamper.  I picked up any trash and stuck it in a bag that I dropped outside my door in the hallway to carry down later.  It was easy work and I was finished with five minutes to spare.  I was back on my phone watching a Halloween video about gay, slutty costumes when he knocked at my door.  I knew it was him because it made me jump at the sound of it, plus who else could it be.  I jumped to my feet, turned the handle, and opened the door to find him there in a tank top and basketball shorts.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied as he stepped into my room.

I could smell his sweat as he passed by, his biceps gleamed in the light.  I gulped and felt my dick stir at the presence of him.  He looked around my room, nodded as if he appreciated that I had cleaned up, and looked to my roommate’s side as if studying a foreign creature, looking for some detail that could prove or disprove something.

“Nice room,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said with a bit of a nervous laugh.  Just his presence was making me anxious and his exposed skin, his sweat.  It was the first time we were together since the party at the frat where we sixty-nined.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I didn’t have anything to do and I was hoping you might be the same.”

“Yeah, uh take a seat,” I said.

He moved to my desk chair, dropped his gym bag on the floor, and sat.  He spread his knees and turned to me as I moved to my bed.  He stretched a little and winced.  I gave him an enquiring look.

“I over did it,” he said.  “I’ve been hitting the gym extra hard and I played a couple of pick up games of basketball today.”

Was this it?  Was he hinting at some kind of hook-up?  I had an erection at just the sight of him and thinking about engaging in some kind of sexual activity I bit my lip.  He scratched at himself and I could make out the bulge in his shorts.  He must be thinking the same thing but then I had this thought that if we did something, if we mutually used each other for some quick action that would be it.  It would be over, he’d probably leave and then what would happen?

“I can give you a massage.”  The words leaked out my throat before I really thought about it.  And I regretted saying them.

“Yeah?”

I had to fight my own sense of what I was doing and my stomach pain from hunger gave me a thought for a diversion.

“But I haven’t eaten anything all day.  Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” he replied.  “What do you want?”

“Well, there’s not many options on campus,” I said.

“I could drive,” he said.

And just like that it shifted.  We were on a new mission for food.  I slipped on a pair of shoes, grabbed my wallet and keys and he got to his feet.

“Are you going out like that?”

“We’ll go through the drive thru,” I replied.

I opened the door to my room, then stepped out into the hallway feeling like I was pulling him along.  He followed.  Down the empty hallway to the elevator, down to the first floor, I kept looking at him and he kept looking at me.  Out of the elevator he took the lead as we walked to the student parking lot that was mostly empty.  He walked to one of the few cars, a Dodge Talon, and unlocked it.  I got into the passenger side and he got into the driver’s seat.  He asked me where I wanted to go and I told him I really wanted burgers and fries but otherwise we fell into a kind of silence and just listened to the music playing from his speakers.

He had a deliberate kind of driving style, fast and attentive.  I sat back in the passenger seat and just went with it.  I barely noticed we had gotten to the drive thru until the person asked for our order.  We ordered nearly the same thing and I pulled my money from my wallet but he told me to just hold onto it and that he would pay.  I put my wallet away and watched him pay with a card at one window then collect the food at the next.  I thought for a moment we’d pull over to eat as he started to pull fries from the bag but we didn’t.  He kept driving.  

The next stop was the liquor store where he ran inside while leaving the car running so I started to eat my own fries.  But I couldn’t help but think of him in his basketball outfit, the way the material clung to his ass and I started to get another erection.  He came back out with a bag that he put behind my seat then we were off again.  He drove us back to campus at top speed.  I kept thinking about how I felt lucky he didn’t get a speeding ticket.  We collected our food and he grabbed the bottle from the backseat, then headed back to my dorm room.

Right after I closed the door he pulled a bottle of whiskey from the bag and opened it.  He poured some into my cup and some into his own.  He asked about where to sit and I motioned to the bed so we sat across from each other on my bed cover, thankfully I had made my bed.  And we started to talk.  Just small talk at first but he told me about coming out in the frat and I told him about coming out in high school.  And then he mentioned his first encounter with a man so I told him about mine, then it kind of became a competition for hook up stories and missed opportunities.  We laughed at ourselves and we laughed at each other as we ate.  

By the time we finished our food our cups were low and the liquor was starting to relax us so when he poured another shot into each cup I simply picked up mine and toasted to him.  He downed his in one go so I did the same.  It felt like we had bonded, like that room, us, that moment, was special.  We didn’t care about what was outside.  We only wanted to entertain each other.  And he cleared his throat, thus clearing the air, before speaking.

“What about that massage?”

“Okay,” I replied.

We cleared the bed, put everything in the trash by my desk, and looked to each other.  “I guess I should strip down,” he said before pulling his jersey off.  He did that two handed at the hem thing, pulled it off easily but it was like a magic trick, a revelation.  I saw his hip bones, flat, muscled stomach, his belly button, his pectoral muscles, his nipples, his clavicle, and then it was off and he tossed it on my desk chair.  He dropped his shorts to reveal he was wearing an old school jock strap with a thick waist band at the top, white, with those straps.  He saw my face and giggled before turning to show his butt and that the straps were between his cheeks like a thong.  I slapped at his butt playfully and he looked over his shoulder to me.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s not how most people wear it,” I said.

“Well, it’s kind of my little secret when I’m out there playing,” he said.

He leaned down and got back onto my bed, spread out face down, stretched until his feet were against the one wall and his hands were easily off the other end, then retracted himself so that his arms were at his sides and he was comfortable.  I felt my erection against my underwear, just the sight of him again.  And the smell of him.  I could smell his sweat.

What had partially been a joke was now a reality and I quickly realized I didn’t have much to massage him with, there was some lotion I kept in the stand by my bed but I started to worry I wouldn’t have enough.  We should have stopped at the store, I thought, but then I remembered it, I remembered my lubricant bottle.  It was in my little black bag, my little black bag of shame, the one I felt guilty about carrying into other men’s apartments.  I retrieved the lotion and put it on the bed between his knees.  I looked to him and saw that he was looking away, totally relaxed and waiting.  I retrieved the black bag, stepped onto the bed, knelt between his legs.  I set the bag behind me just in case he looked back.

I started with the lotion on his shoulders.  He laughed a little when the cold goo hit his skin and I took note to warm it up in my hands first.  I gripped at his skin, pressed into his flesh with my fingers.  I’m not a licensed masseur.  Hell I’ve had very little experience, but this wasn’t about therapy.  I just wanted to feel him, feel each muscle, and so I did.  I worked over his back one dollop of lotion at a time.  And he sighed, I could see his shoulders relax and I heard his breathing slow.

No tattoos, no scars, just a few pimples, I moved down his spine and back up, across his back muscles then down almost to his ass.  I let my fingers drift a little more with each movement until I was near his arm pits.  I moved my fingers down to his lats where he gave out a ticklish squeal.  I couldn’t help but smile at what I had found and explored further around his sides and up to his arm pits I heard his feet move against the sheet and looked back to see his toes slowly squeeze and then snap tight when I got to his arm pits.  He let out a laugh and turned his head to me.

“Watch where you’re going there I’m very ticklish and we don’t want any accidents,” he said.

“Oh no,” I joked.

“I don’t like to lose control,” he said.

“Really?”

“Not like that, it’s humiliating.  The last time I pissed myself I was eight and couldn’t get into the bathroom because my sisters were in there.  My father whooped my butt and told me to use a tree next time.”

I paused for a moment at the confession.  There was so much to unpack from what he said but I knew it wasn’t the time so I shook it off and went back to work.  Slowly, very slowly down his body.  I slid my hand over his butt and he started to look back to me so I went to his thighs where I dug in with my thumbs and started to use real pressure.  I figured his thick, muscled thighs could take it.  He relaxed again and I knew I was on the right track.

Further down his legs, slowly and methodically I worked the tension from each muscle, all of the way to his ankles.  His ankles barely got a coating of oil but the heels of his feet that’s where I applied the pressure and slowly across the arch to the balls of his feet.  For a moment he grunted in pleasure before I hit the wrong spot and he began to squirm and giggle again.

“What’d I say about that,” he said.

“Do you have to pee?” I asked.

“No, I mean yeah, but I’ve got a hard on so not right away, let’s finish this.”

“Well, I’ve just about done everything back here so roll over,” I said.

“I’ve got an erection,” he said.

“I’ve seen it before.  I’ve even sucked it.”

“No, I just want to stay like this,” he said, “do my back again.”

I worked my way up his thighs and I realized he was slowly, deliberately humping the bed in small motions probably hoping I wouldn’t notice.  I slapped his butt playfully and told him to hold still.  He laughed it off.  I massaged his thighs some more until I got to the straps of his jock.

“Maybe we should take this off,” I said.

He lifted up and let me strip it off, but he held himself up there and I could see his asshole, his balls, and his hard dick hanging down at an angle so I did something he didn’t expect, I pulled his dick and balls between his thighs as he went back down to his belly.  I had a new toy to play with but I also had run out of lotion some time ago so I got the bottle of lubricant and started with his balls.  I got them slick with the oil and worked them until they were tight.  

His hard dick was pronounced, leaking a little so I ran my finger down the shaft to the bit of foreskin.  I played with the foreskin a little, felt around the head and pinched it with my slick fingers.  He groaned and moaned with each touch.  I moved up his taint, massaged it, slowly closer to his asshole and he lifted his head in surprise.

“I’m not into that,” he said.  “I don’t get fucked.”

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man,” I offered, “just relax and enjoy it.”

“Just don’t tell anyone,” he said.

“This is just between the two of us,” I replied.

And I made sure my fingers were well lubricated before I got to his asshole.  I passed over it the first time, focused on the muscles around it first until I felt him relax, then I slowly worked one finger into him as I gripped his dick with my whole hand.  He raised up a little then lowered himself so I kept at it.  I continued to stroke his dick slowly as I poured more lubricant onto his hole.  I worked one finger deep until I felt his prostate and I tickled it a little.  He shrieked and squirmed at the sensation but he told me to keep doing it, one knee up slightly I nudged him to him back down on the bed.  I pressed a second finger into him and he took it.

Two fingers of my left hand deep inside his hole I lazily played with his dick and balls, once along the shaft, grip at each nut, once along the shaft, grip at each nut, all the time my fingers inside of him.  He started to hump the bed and I spanked him playfully and told him to let me do it.  I wanted the control.  I wanted to be the one who put him over the edge but I felt him start to buck, his hips followed the motion of my fingers as if he wanted to preserve the feeling of having them inside.  He wanted them.  He wanted me.

“I want to fuck you,” I said.

“Fuck me,” he replied.

I stripped off my clothes, tossed them on the floor.  I paused for just a moment to put on a condom and get my hard on slick before I pulled him onto his knees and I stuck my dick between his cheeks.

“Please, fuck me, I need it,” he said.

Here he was a jock boy who didn’t want to be penetrated begging for my dick, on all fours on my bed in my dorm room.  I slid into him, tight and warm.  I could feel his heartbeat.  I grabbed his dick with my lubricated hand and I felt his hole tighten as I let his dick penetrate my fist.  He moaned and grunted, louder and louder.  I started to pound at his ass and he was throwing it back at me.  It didn’t take long.  I felt his hard dick spasm as he held his breath during his climax, a hot red rocket that covered my sheets in ejaculate, a spray of lust.  And I worked myself inside him, grabbed at him, and a few moments later my own blinding orgasm.

I fell against him and he fell to the bed.  I reached down to the condom and held it as I pulled my dick out of him.  I rolled onto my side.  He rolled into me.  I threw the condom to the floor and he laughed a little as I felt his cheeks against my dick again.  He pulled my arms around his side, my hands up to his nipples that I twisted a little.

“Next time I do the front half,” I said.

“Definitely,” he replied.

And we fell asleep there cuddled together for a few hours.  He woke up before me and got out of bed, used the bathroom and I did the same, but as I was walking back out he was getting dressed.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Chill, don’t worry, it was fun, a lot of fun, but I’m not used to actually sleeping with someone so I’m going back to my room, but I’ll call you in the morning and we should go out for breakfast.  Here I’m leaving you something.”

He held up his jockstrap and tossed it to me like I had done to him before with my briefs.  Is that where we were at?  I caught them and held them up to my nose and sniffed at them.  He laughed a little at the sight of it and I blushed.

“And next time we’re going to invest in some more oils,” he said.

“And lube,” I replied.

He shook his head and got to his feet, fully dressed he moved to me as I stood there naked.  He put one hand on my hip, closed the distance between us, and kissed me briefly on the lips before slapping my ass playfully and pulling away.  He walked out from my room as I began to twirl the jock by one strap from my finger.