BILF

I’m standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror. My reflection reveals that my face has been well painted. He must have been saving up his load for days. Gobs and streaks of his cum are everywhere on my face. It’s in my hair, cheeks, nose, chin, eyebrows. I even spy a bit on my left ear. The white liquid slowly makes its way down my face, drops falling down onto my chest and shoulders. Searching the vanity I find some paper towels, wet them, and begin to wipe my face. I give the soap dispenser a few pumps, but nothing comes out. Shit. I don’t have time to shower. Not that I could anyway. There are no towels or bars of soap to be seen. It’s the guest bathroom, but apparently there are never any guests. I have a class to get to.

After he sprayed me, he told me to get the fuck out. He was done with me. My purpose had been served. He seemed a bit irritated today, a bit preoccupied. I usually see ‘Steve’ once a week. He’s one of my regulars. I’m fairly sure that isn’t his real name, but then I’m known to him as ‘Patrick’, which isn't mine (I’m Mark). I have other aliases, but Patrick is the one I use most often.

Today was a bit out of the ordinary for us. Usually I walk in and he’s in the living room. Not today. I had to search him out this morning. Eventually I heard his muffled voice drifting down from somewhere upstairs. I located him in his office. He was seated at his desk which was facing the door. His laptop was open and I gathered that he was in a Zoom meeting. I remained in the doorway, not quite sure how I was supposed to proceed. I didn’t want to speak and interrupt whatever was going on. For a second I thought that I had gotten the date or time wrong. I looked around again and was relieved. I spotted a small detaiI that I had not initially noticed. He was dressed in a white shirt, blue-striped tie and jacket. Under the desk however, he was naked except for black socks. His legs were spread apart revealing his brown bush and his button dick nestled within. I rolled my eyes, it seemed a little cliche… but whatever. He looked my way and acknowledged my presence. He raised his hand and using his index finger, he pointed to a sign propped up in front of his laptop. Written on it in bold black letters it read: ‘Strip and Sit.’

Steve’s an older guy, my guess is late 50’s. He’s a bit chunky, which I don’t mind. Most of the guys I visit are in their 40s - 60s, and a fair number are carrying a few extra pounds, if not more. It’s all part of the job and puts some extra paper in my wallet. It’s nice to have a variety.

I, myself, just turned 20. My stats: dark blond hair, dull bluish-gray eyes, 5’9”, swimmer build ( I actually do swim), naturally smooth, 145 lb, 30” waist. I trim my nether regions, (and for the record… I am 6.25” cut, and yes that 0.25 inches is important to me). I have very boyish features. I look much younger than my actual age. I hated that growing up. I was teased about it, but now it works to my advantage.

Anyway, back to ‘Strip and Sit’. I figured that I should put on a show. I slowly slipped off each sneaker and then my no-show socks. I was wearing a button down shirt, and on a whim I grabbed my shirt at the collar. With a bit of force I pull the shirt panels violently apart. The buttons snapped off quickly one by one. They went ricocheting across the room in different directions. Pinging off different objects as they hit. I cringed as I had not intended to make any noise that might be picked up by his laptop’s microphone.

The flying buttons momentarily diverted his attention from his meeting. I did good. Steve liked the button maneuver. His eyes peered over his laptop, intently focused on me. I unbuckled and removed my belt, but left my cargo pants zipped and buttoned. I wiggled my pants down slowly in a zig zag sort of way, revealing my tight low-rise white briefs. The cargos snagged briefly on my bulge, hanging there for a few seconds before falling to the floor. I brought my hands back to my waist and slid them over my briefs, up and down the creases in my groin. I did my best to accentuate my junk.

Normally at this point I would have turned around to show off my ass, but alas Steve isn’t into butts. That would have been a wasted effort. I returned my hands to my waist and tucked my thumbs under the brief’s waistband , stretching it outward. Steadily, still using my thumbs, I worked the waistband down. My pubes started to show over the top. As I got to the base of my dick, I hesitated a second before beginning the slow reveal of my shaft. My cock was about a quarter hard at this point. I paused again briefly when the material reached my dick’s helmut. I had his full attention. I heard someone on the other end of his zoom call asking for a response, but he was zoned out, fixated on me. He snapped out of it and his gaze returned to his laptop. I heard him apologize, asking the person to repeat what they had said. I admit that I felt a little satisfied at this. I was doing a good job of distracting him. My striptease ended with me stretching my briefs just underneath my shaft, and then using it to bounce my cock around. Done, I quickly slip off my briefs and sit down on the couch behind me.

Steve’s finger went back to the ‘Strip and Sit’ sign and he flicked it so that it fell forward. Behind it was another sign, ‘Play with yourself’ it read. I spread my legs wide and began to play with my dick. I had now reached half mast. While playing with my equipment, I stretched my arm as far as I could behind my head. My armpit now exposed, I tilted my head down and started licking my pit. I moved my other hand up and began to rub my nips.

When I next glanced over at him, there was a new sign. This one commanded me to go over to the desk. Rising off the couch, I walked over to the very edge of the desk. The back of the laptop stood perhaps two feet away, but only Steve could see me. I looked directly at him and flopped my dick repeatedly on the desktop. It made a slight thunking sound each time it hit, but I didn’t care much about making sounds anymore. I gave him my most devious, wicked smile.

He flicked over this card and revealed the final one. I saw the words ‘Blow me boy’. So that’s what I did. I fell to my knees and crawled under the desk. His dick was erect. The tip was wet with precum.

It always amazes me how big his dick can get. Not that it’s very big. I think to say it’s four and one half might be overly generous. What’s amazing to me is that when soft, all there is to see is the head. It’s like this pink cone shaped button on top of his groin. There is no shaft. No folded, crinkled skin to be seen either. Where does it go? I do say that for being so dinky it’s almost my favorite dick. I love going down on it when it’s that soft, because of how much it extends. It doesn’t seem to inflate, it’s more as if something deep inside him starts cranking out the shaft bit by bit. Just seems a bit weird to me.

Anyway, I worked his eel the best I could. It surprised me how composed he remained. I could hear that the conversations were continuing above. He was talking as well, yet it was plain that he was enjoying the attention I was paying to his junk. I could feel him thrusting his hips slightly, trying to push his meat deeper into my mouth, but not so much that any movement could be detected above the desk.

I stopped sucking and pulled it away from my mouth. A long strand of precum followed, still attached to my lip. It continued to stretch out longer and longer until finally, the strand broke. I tackled his rocks next, giving them all the attention that I could muster. I drug my tongue along the creases of his crotch. Taking a risk, I bit his inner thighs lightly. They jolted just a little, and I thought I heard a slight murmur from above. I returned my focus to his dick.

The meeting must have ended. I heard him close his laptop. He peered down at me and told me to put more effort into it. Apparently not satisfied, he grabbed my head and pumped my mouth h rougher. Faster and faster. He started to shudder and pushed me off his cock. He took over stroking it. Before long his slit opened and began to cough out thick white lines of cum. With his free hand he held my head, turning it left and right so that he covered my entire face with his spunk. This was normal for him, he has never unloaded in my mouth. It turns Steve on to cover my face in it. The sheer volume of cum on my face makes him happy. He’ll get a little pissed if he misaims and some lands on the floor. If it’s not on me, it’s wasted.

So here I am in front of the mirror. I wipe all traces of him off my face and put on my clothes. Of course I can’t button my shirt. The buttons are lying on the floor somewhere in his office. I instantly regret this part of the strip tease. I forgot that I had a class directly after this and now I will have to find another shirt.. plus this one is ruined.

I exit his house and climb into my truck. Luckily there is a heavy hoodie balled up on the backseat. Not the ideal solution. it’s very wrinkled and it’s a bit warm outside for something so heavy, yet it’s better than the ruined shirt. Per protocol I text Nick that I’ve finished and all is well. He returns a text seconds later, telling me to stop by his office, today if I can. I drive off to my class at the University. I’m going to be a little late for it.

My last class gets out at 4. I jump into my truck and head over to see Nick. I’m assuming this meeting has something to do with the job I agreed to do this Saturday. I wonder why we couldn’t have just done this over the phone.

Nick co owns a fairly large catering company. I started working there when I was 16. A friend from school worked there and convinced me to apply. The pay wasn’t too bad, better than what I would have received working at restaurants or retail. That’s what most of the kids I knew did. I mostly worked weekends and Friday nights doing wedding receptions, parties, bar mitzvahs, etc… Initially I helped set up and tear down the events. I ran errands, helped out with the food and decorations. About a year or so later, Nick began assigning me to work inside, during the events, serving food and such. I noticed Nick was paying more attention to me than before. He frequently chatted me up especially after the event was over and we were cleaning up. He always seemed interested in my personal life.

One afternoon he approached me and asked if I would think about working for him in a different capacity. He had a side business that he ran by himself. He said it specialized in smaller, more private events. A couple clients had noticed me and mentioned me to him. He thought I would be a good fit. Nick explained that I would have more responsibilities than I currently had, and later on I might be asked to do some events by myself. My base pay would be bumped up by about $10/hr. There would also be opportunities to make much more, though he was evasive about the specifics. Nick was confident that I could handle it, but emphasized that I would need to learn a few new skills. Not to worry, he would help me out there. His clients interacted much more with the staff, as opposed to normal catering where the help is expected to remain in the background.

What I got out of the conversation was that there was a $10/hr raise and the possibility of big bonuses. That was all that mattered to me. I readily agreed and that’s how it all started.

It was a gradual thing. I wasn’t giving blow jobs and offering up my hole at first. In the beginning I didn’t notice much of a difference, with the exception that the events were indeed smaller, often less than 10 men, and it was always just men. The gatherings were usually at one of the client’s homes. The guys at these events definitely interacted with me more than I was used to. They brought me into conversations. Mostly they were fun to be around, but the men were very tactile. I got a lot of pats, squeezes at first. Their hands tended to linger on my shoulders or waist. I would get whispers in my ear, there was a lot of innuendo. I noticed my other co-workers would often disappear for a while. It didn’t take long before I understood what this was all really about. Soon I was disappearing as well. Often being taken on a ‘tour’ of the house.

Back to the present. I’m sitting in Nick’s office after driving across town having finished my classes for the day. We are engaged in some idle chit chat, mostly he’s talking about the catering part of his business. He asks about this morning and I tell him about the Zoom meeting and Steve. Nick finds this amusing and smiles. I mention that it was a brief encounter, I sucked him off, but Steve didn’t reciprocate as he normally does, nor did he want to do anything else. My compensation will be deposited tomorrow. This is normal. Nick will add it to the balance of the Visa gift card he gave me. I expect to receive about $200. ( I’m sure Nick has made at least that much from my encounter with Steve. I occasionally wonder if I might do better on my own. However there are a lot of advantages to this arrangement. Plus It’s been made clear to us that if we quit, we can’t come back. More on this later.)

Nick finally gets down to why he asked me to stop in. He wants to briefly go over the gig I agreed to do this Saturday. I’m excited about it. It’s big money. It will be 2K, possibly more. This comes at the perfect time. My pickup is desperately in need of a brake job and new tires. This job will cover it. I’m also excited because I’ve been with this group before and they have always been a lot of fun. It’s a tight group of about eight guys. They tend to get together about once a month to blow off steam. On occasion they want to do something on a bigger, more creative scale. Often these events are centered on some sort of game or roleplay. It tends to be imaginative and they clearly put some thought and effort into it. Nick is glad to help out with whatever they need. It’s not cheap.

Nick has told me that I get requested a bit more than the others because:

1. I look really young. While most of the other guys that work for Nick are around my age, the difference with me is that I look quite a bit younger. He says most are surprised that I’m over 18.

2. Roleplay. Guys that have asked for this tell Nick that I’m really good at it. I try to draw the scene out. I’ll put some effort and thought into the outfit. I’ll bring props if needed and I have a couple scenarios in my mind regarding how I can tease and excite the client. Now if the guy wants to go in a different direction I’ll do whatever he wants, but I find these men often have only a vague fantasy in mind. They seem to appreciate that I can take it further and get into it.

3. In general I’m not afraid of a little kink, as long as I have a decent understanding of what they want beforehand. Spanking, bondage, watersports, a little S & M, rough sex is generally ok with me. If I’m honest, I often enjoy it. Nick says that most of the others have stricter limits.

This will be the fourth event that this group of men have ‘invited’ me to participate in. Nick says they selected three of us. The scenario is to be a job interview. We’re all vying for the position of HR Coordinator. I’m given a packet of information that describes the fictitious company, its history, description of job duties and requirements. He advises me to read the material well. As I said, they put an enormous effort into these events. They’ve selected a black suit for me to wear and it doesn’t look cheap. Nick hands it to me. Black blazer, white shirt, tie, dress pants, black dress socks, shoes, belt. In addition there’s a bright red jock, bright blue boxer briefs and a cock ring. Nick has all my measurements on file, so I know that everything will fit very well.

In the past, the events have been held at a little farmlett. I assume it belongs to one of the men. There’s a large house and small structure they refer to as the barn. The property is rather secluded and backs to woods. My first job there was with two of my coworkers. The scenario was a hunt and we were the prey. We were instructed to scatter and evade detection. We could go anywhere around the farmlette and woods. The men dressed up as hunters, a paintball marker (gun) was their weapon. An additional cash incentive was offered to the one of us who evaded capture the longest. They made bets amongst themselves as to which hunter would be first to bag prey, which of us would be first to be ‘killed’ and where on the property we would ‘die’. Of course the hunt was successful; all the prey eventually bagged. As dead prey, we were all brought back to their ‘encampment’ where we were ‘processed’ and ‘eaten’. I thought it was clever and fun, (financially rewarding as well). I’ll relate the full story later.

The second event was a game night. There were four rentals, (as Nick sometimes refers to us) working that event. There were competitions like wrestling, swimming, some challenges and a few actual games were played. Of course we were the contestants in all of them. The men sat back drinking beer, betting on which of us would win, or even who would screw up the task we were supposed to complete. They loved to bet amongst themselves. Woe to the losing contestant… and all of us boys suffered one consequence or another. Again, a story for another day, but I’ll give an example. I lost the air hockey challenge. Gary won the bet so he chose my punishment. I was bent over the hockey table. He put on a pair of latex gloves and two condoms. He then poured siracchi sauce over his dick and fucked me. It wasn’t a quick or gentle fuck either. The heat of the sauce was incredibly intense, almost unbearable and took hours to dissipate. Not something I’ll ever forget.

The last event was called ‘Cowboys’. Three of us. We were the steers at one point, ranch hands at another. They turned part of the barn into a bunkhouse. There was roping, (fake) branding, a sort of rodeo…

Nick gives me the address to a building in town where Saturday’s festivities will take place. I’m to report there at 7 and to anticipate a long night. I’m not sure what to expect, but I know it won’t be boring.