Ouch!

Narrated by Alec

I can’t help but feel smug.

Dear God, how my life has changed over the last few months! I’ve gone from being lonely, divorced and without sex to having friends, a “sort of" boyfriend and the best (and most) sex I never even dreamt of.

I’ve always been aware that I was attracted to guys. Unfortunately, with my looks no-one would glance at me twice. 

That’s the problem with growing up looking like a hairy, bad-tempered thug. A quick grope in a dark public toilet was the most I could expect when I was young. Only if someone was already inside though. If anyone saw me go in then invariably they would wander off and come back later, undoubtedly after I’d gone.

Is it any wonder that when I met a woman who appreciated that I worked hard and could tolerate my looks, I married her? I don’t regret it. I’ve got two wonderful children, how can I regret that? But equally now, I don’t regret making up for lost time with man sex either. 

I was always big and ugly. Jenny, my ex, used to tell me that people were scared of me because I looked so fierce. I can't help that, you are as you were made, right? But there was always that undercurrent of apprehension from others. Still is, to be honest. Clients are afraid to give me work in case at some point I go psycho on them. It’s why I’m always so careful to be polite, honest and reliable, and I’ve had to work twice as hard to make a go of it, too. There are always more builders around who are happy for work, eh? Builders who can get by on charm and good looks.... 

And socially...ha! In the end I gave up trying. Get rejected enough times because you don't fit their idea of elegant or sophisticated – and people worry that you might be violent, ‘cos that's how you look.... Still, no point bemoaning the hand you're dealt.

I said “my boyfriend”, earlier, yeah? OK, not entirely accurate I suppose, but it has a nice ring to it. 

Joe is a teenager, almost 19 going on 12, by the look of him. Sure, I made the first move but, oh boy, did he ever follow through! He's the first person I’ve known to appreciate my appearance and size. 

Yes, you heard right. Size. I’m big. Not obese. Just plain big.

I was big as a baby, I matured early and I grew to be a tall, burly and intimidating bloke. With an overly big, heavily veined cock and balls to match. Not the gift you might think it would be, though, for most of my life.

My ex-wife couldn't take it all, and didn’t want to either, so sex was a rarity. Really satisfying sex was something that only happened for other people.

Joe, on the other hand, despite his small stature, not only takes it all but can’t get enough! And it's a thrill to make him shoot by burying my log to my balls, deep in that tiny, tight little backside of his.

I can’t begin to express the joy of knowing that someone finds me so desirable that they can, completely unassisted, ejaculate involuntarily because of me, and what I’m doing. The sheer boost of adrenalin it gives me each time...I just want to keep going, making that beautiful golden boy convulse with pleasure, make him cum repeatedly until his cock his sore and he's just shooting air, because I am fucking him deep with my 10 inch, fat and ugly cock.

I was always a very heavy cummer. That was another reason that Jen loathed sex. She said if I came in her, she felt flooded and uncomfortable. Doesn’t bother Joe, though. He loves it. If anything, I cum harder and produce more spunk now than I have ever done. Big bollocks, see? And now in full-time sperm production too, knowing that all their hard work is appreciated!

Talking of sex, that brings me on to Terry, my neighbour of just over a year.....We’d never really spoken much before Joe appeared. Well, Terry was Joe's gym instructor/trainer/friend initially and was Joe's first...you know...”experience". 

Next thing you know, we're doing Joe together. 

I always thought Terry was a classically handsome guy - tall, dark, good body, good looking....a head turner, could probably make a decent living as a model, despite being his late 30’s. He was certainly personable, often had parties, men and women flocking round. You could tell that he was always Mr Popular.

I’d kind of resented Terry, in a way. Resented that he'd barely given me the time of day until Joe showed interest in me. Resented his easy life with his easy charm, classical good looks and obvious sex appeal. Resented the fact that he had loads of friends around, and then later resented that he had been Joe's first. 

I know it's ridiculous, and I’m only too aware that most of my resentment was generated by envy, but Terry was just so much everything that I wasn't. And the more I saw of Terry naked, the more I was envious of him.

Fuck, he’s a handsome guy, though! Joe is a beautiful boy, but Terry’s a full adult male, and a perfect one at that. You know how you see these male models on TV, showing chiselled pecs and abs through an enticingly opened shirt (just to sell some crappy aftershave)? Really easy on the eye and chosen for their looks and bodies? Well, that's Terry. Everything about him, from the shape of his ears to his feet...perfect. Not too much muscle to be obnoxious, but enough to be attractively masculine. Very well defined and...what do they call it? Cut. Hairy, but not to excess and always trimmed and well groomed.

I guess it was also the fact that Terry sort of represented all those guys who walked off without even acknowledging me when I was young. Made me feel so ugly and undesirable. Not his fault, obviously, but that leaves a lasting impression when you're a youngster.

Well, he came round to my place tonight, just for drink and a chat, he said. 

I thought it was odd. I’d never known Terry to socialise much in the week, only ever at weekends. Doesn’t really suit me either as I’m usually up early for work. 

It had just gone 10:30pm. I was watching TV, sat there in my baggy old pyjama pants and thinking about turning in. And there's Terry, knocking at the door on a Wednesday night, bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. He was still wearing his gym shorts and sweatshirt. He'd slipped flip-flops on but kicked them off as he came in. Very thoughtful of my carpets.

Of course, I let him in. My first thought was that something had happened to Joe and he wanted to break the news.

“No mate" answered Terry, to my initial slightly panicked question. “No, nothing like that. I got the gym locked up and got home, saw your light still on and just wondered if you fancied a bit of company for an hour. I’m wide awake, just need to chill a bit before I go to bed".

He looked at me with a quizzical half-smile, raising the bottle of JD as an offering. I was a bit taken aback, to be honest. It was the first time he’d ever been in my place, and the first time he had ever shown friendship when Joe wasn't around. And he looked very sexy, with his well muscled, bare hairy legs on show like that. I certainly wasn’t going to turn him away.

“Yeah, sure" I said. “Be nice to have a bit of company for a while. Let me get a couple of glasses".

I disappeared off into the kitchen with the bottle to open it, while he made himself comfortable on my sofa. When I returned with two glasses, ice and the now opened bottle, all of 10 seconds later, Terry had taken his sweatshirt off. He was looking magnificent in his gym vest - tanned, muscular and a perfect advert for a fitness guru.

I handed him a glass and poured him a generous shot, then a smaller one for me. I was mindful of working in the morning and I’m not a big drinker, in any case. I took a seat in my favourite easy chair, opposite him. It was a perfect position to study him as he relaxed and sipped from his glass. 

His red gym shorts were quite baggy and had ridden up his legs a bit, exposing a fair expanse of hairy, muscular thigh. Terry had his long legs apart, in a typical un-self-consciously masculine, seated pose, and it was easy to see a sizeable bulge trapped by the apex of his thighs. 

From my position I could see that his gym vest had also ridden up a little when he'd pulled the sweatshirt off, so that about an inch of tanned, lightly haired lower abdomen was showing just above the top of his shorts. He sat, well muscled left arm draped along the top of the sofa while he nursed his glass with the other hand. He looked, as always, flawless. 

Terry was glancing around the lounge, everywhere but at me. It occurred to me that I was still bare-chested, although for the life of me I couldn’t believe that he would have been embarrassed by that. He worked at a gym, after all. Surely he saw loads of semi-clad and naked men there? Bloody hell, we'd seen each other naked, and fucking Joe, more than half a dozen times already! 

I recalled the moment when I’d rimmed him, several nights ago, as he was busy with his perfect (obviously) cock up Joe's arse. Fuck! Was that playing on his mind? Did he feel violated or threatened? It was heat of the moment stuff. Surely he hadn’t been offended? 

The (slightly awkward) companiable silence was fine for about 15 seconds, but the longer it went on the more uncomfortable it started to feel.

“So, how was your day?” I asked, if only to break the monotony of silence.

“Er, fine, yeah, good” he replied. “Gets a bit tedious at times, you know? Health and safety measures, equipment checks, clearing up after people and stuff, but ok. Some of the perks are good".

He grinned at me, his even, white teeth gleaming in the light from my table lamp.“I met Joe at the gym, you know” he said.

I nodded. “Yes, Joe told me. He also said that his experiences with you after that were the best he could ever have wished for”.

“He's a good kid" Terry said. “I never thought he'd want to hang around much afterwards, though. I thought he’d be off, putting his new found talents to good use somewhere else. I never suspected that he'd hook up with my neighbour. Worked out well though, eh?”.

Terry knocked the rest of his glass back and reached over to get the bottle for a refill. His nipples made small but prominent points against the fabric of his vest. It reminded me of Joe, when he was beginning to get excited and his tits became erect. Terry's pecs were much more developed than Joe's though, and the hair on his upper chest was visible above the vest.

I could feel myself starting to chub up a bit, in response to my thoughts of the boy. And Terry's lean torso was drawing my eye.

“Yes. Very well" I said, in answer to Terry’s question. “Joe is a fantastic, sexy kid. I never imagined that he’d keep hanging around for me, either”.

Terry was looking at me over the rim of his glass as he sipped. Well, at my bare, hair-matted chest, anyway. I flexed a bit and watched as the pupils of his eyes widened, then watched his eyes suddenly dip to my pyjama covered groin and up to my face. He obviously saw me watching him, watching me.

He chuckled. “Fucking hell, man. I've gotta tell you that I understand why. You're fucking phenomenal!”

I was slightly dumbfounded. Well, that's probably not the right word as I was aware that we had been watching each other quite a bit when we were busy giving Joe a good time. But I wasn't really aware that Terry appreciated me independently, away from Joe.

“Er...thank you", was the best I could manage as a response. “You're quite exceptional yourself". 

“No, mate, I don't think I’m saying this right. You're so male, it's frightening. And that's why Joe is so attracted to you. You have a totally masculine aura. You’re a beast. A totally fucking male beast. You attract people who need to be dominated in sex. Like Joe.

That kind of aura of absolute maleness is a powerful thing. Very sexy".

It was slowly dawning on me that Terry’s eyes, usually a dark brown, were almost green in the subdued artificial light. He was staring at me, the same sort of stare that he gave during our sex sessions with Joe. I’d always thought it was because he was sizing me up as competition. 

Terry drained his glass as I was pondering this, and he continued to speak.

“Alec, you’re a very powerful aphrodisiac to that kid. I trained him to be totally passive, to be completely receptive to top men. When I first met him he was embarrassed by his delayed puberty and was scared everyone would laugh at him. I knew that he was born to be a bottom. He even said himself that his fantasies were about older, dominant guys, so I moulded him to be the best bottom boy he could be. Trained him to ignore his own cock and focus only on his top's needs. To obtain his own pleasure from his prostate, and vicariously from a top man's orgasm.

You have taken that boy way further than my training. You’ve developed him into a proper slut for cock, to cum multiple times without needing to touch his little dick, just from being fucked. 

But more than that, fucked by you! He doesn’t do that with me or anyone else. I can make him cum, but not over and over like you do. It’s like you have a magic cock! It's incredible to watch".

I don't know if was Terry's words sparking thoughts of Joe and his delicious arse, or Terry's lustful expression, or that his eyes kept roving across my semi-clad body – I was as solid as a rock and could feel my balls churning.

I stood up to get the bottle and refilled his glass, and dribbled a little in mine, although I hadn’t even sipped half of my first drink yet. Terry's eyes never left the lump of my tented erection, and I could see him swallow nervously.

Fucking hell! I was horny and he was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t want misunderstandings to cause later problems. So I took charge.

“Tell me what you want, Terry".

He took another drink, presumably for Dutch courage, although by now I had a fair inkling what this visit was about.

“You’re a fucking turn-on, man! I’ve always been the top guy. I've never let anyone play with my arse, never wanted anyone to. But watching you make Joe cum over and over.... And when you stuck your tongue up my bum last Saturday, I just wanted you to do more, go further.

Then, when I crawled under for a close-up look, and saw how your cock was sawing in and out of that kid's arse, it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

I can’t stop thinking about it”.

I was standing in front of him, now hugely...obscenely...erect in my pyjamas, and looked down at him as he was looking up at me. His expression suddenly seemed like a lost child. For a second I actually thought he was going to cry. But he still hadn’t been honest with me. I knew what he wanted now. The booze was loosening his tongue, but he needed to be explicit and tell me.

“Tell me what you want, Terry", I repeated, quietly.

“I...I...fucking hell, Alec! I want to know how you do it! I want to know how Joe feels, when you're making him cum! I want....”

I could see that he was almost pleading for me to understand. It was like a power trip, suddenly making up for past decades of rejection and dismissal from other people. This good-looking man, a gym instructor for God's sake, was trying to ask me for sex. A man rather than a boy, giving me the power to decide, to take control. Silently begging me to take him.

Life was good.

I could feel my cock burp a pearl of pre-cum, making a tiny wet patch in the tented, straining material of my pyjama pants, just watching him staring up at me with his desperate, pleading eyes. I flexed my chest again and lower down, I could see the evidence of his need, his own cock making a noticeable tent in his gym shorts.

“You need to submit to me, Terry". It wasn't a question. He nodded anyway.

“You need to understand that once I start, I don’t stop. There's no option to back out. You give this to me, and I will take it. Use you as I see fit. Use you like Joe. Turn you into my cunt, the receptacle for my spunk”.

He swallowed once more and nodded again. The guy was in heat. As if to evidence that, he murmured “Please, Alec".

I reached for his head, intending to bend and kiss him. Instead, he moved forward, still seated, and kissed the tip of my hidden cock, then licked at the small wet spot. 

I caught hold of his vest and pulled it over his head. What a sight. His broad shoulders were displayed below me as he again mouthed the mound created in my pyjama pants by my fully erected dick. 

I used my hands on his head to guide his mouth around for a while, while his searching tongue wetted the material, before hauling him to his feet.

He was an inch or so shorter than me but I somehow felt that I towered over him. I held him at arms length and looked into his eyes, although I don’t know what I was expecting to see. What looked back at me though, was naked, unadulterated lust. 

My initial resentment of Terry had been over-ridden by my new desire to dominate him. Show him who was boss. Show him that being handsom, privileged and popular was no entitlement to an easy ride. 

My cock throbbed, reminding me that business had begun, the banks were open and a deposit was required. Or several, possibly.

He wanted it. He would have to take it. All of it. No mercy, no quarter given.

I grabbed his hand.

“Come on. We’ll continue this upstairs. I’m going to show you something".

Continued in Part 5