Ouch!

Narrated by Alec

As I drove back home from the hotel that Joe and I had spent the Saturday night in, I wondered how Terry was getting on.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Poor bugger, he had sounded so desperate on the Friday. It took a lot to lie to him that I was busy, but I knew that if I had seen him, my resolve would have shattered. I’d have unlocked his cock cage and given him the release he wanted. 

So, I spent the evening in the pub, not that I’m much of a drinker (and believe me, nursing one pint, two glasses of orange juice and a plate of fish and chips for two hours gets you some very curious looks). When I got home, I’d parked my car a way down the road, crept up the path and into my house. Then kept all of the lights off for the rest of the night so as not to give the game away, as Terry lived just next door! 

I knew that a cock cage wouldn’t be easy for him. He was used to having sex regularly, after all. A good looking guy like him could get whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. So, being kept in chastity, unable to even get an erection, must be hell. Still, I thought that a little “down time", if you’ll excuse the pun, wouldn’t kill him, and might just make him appreciate what made Joe tick. Well, Terry did say that he wanted to feel what Joe felt, after all.

Oh, I checked that the spare key to the lock of Terry’s cock cage was still where I’d put it, though, just in case he genuinely needed to remove the device in the event of an emergency. The key was there (I did wonder if he'd already found it...) hidden in plain sight, dangling from a hook behind the potted geranium on the shelf in the porch, by my front door.

The following morning I’d left home once I’d seen Terry go out for his morning jog. I hadn’t needed to pick Joe up in the town centre until midday but I didn’t want to risk Terry hammering on my door, pleading and begging for mercy, so I grabbed a coffee and hung around window shopping in the town for a while, sniggering to myself. The knowledge that Terry was being forced to go without sex for another weekend, now that he'd experienced his submissive side, appealed to my warped sense of humour.

Once Joe arrived and I’d driven us to the hotel, I had other things to concentrate on though. I thought of Terry quite a lot, but Joe was there with me, warm, vibrant and gorgeous. And eager for my cock.

The hotel had been very pleasant and comfortable. We’d managed to get out in the evening for a few hours (eventually) to see a show at a theatre. Joe had been bored by it and just wanted to go back to the room and fuck. Well, he might have been able to keep going indefinitely, but I needed to recharge my batteries at times, so I made him wait until the show had finished. I’d paid for us to see it, after all.

It had been quite a wild night. The boy had been his usual insatiable little self. His typical youthful athleticism almost wore me out, with all of the contortions and positions that he had put my middle aged, decrepit old carcass through. His lithe, golden little body had spasmed through six orgasms over the three hours of my fucking him around the room, until I finally shot my bolt up his delightful backside, before we finally fell asleep. Oh, and there was also the load he swallowed on arrival at the hotel in the afternoon. And the quickie screw in the shower before dinner in the evening, before the show. And the languid morning fuck he took before we got up for breakfast. 

Seriously, that boy’s anus ought to win awards for resilience under extreme conditions. I’m not a small man at just over 6 feet 3 inches, as I’m sure you’re aware by now, and Joe is only 5 feet 4 inches tall in hob nailed boots, but he is also extremely narrow hipped. Just how he managed to stretch enough to accommodate my thick and knobbly ten inches, I will never know. I always half expected to see the top of his head pop up when I was in full penetration. And I had privately joked to myself that I’d have to wrap sellotape around his middle to stop him splitting open, what with the extreme width of my dick jack-hammering away in his insides so much. But take my cock he always did, and with as much enthusiasm as my ex-wife had always loathed it.

Well, anyway, on the way back home, Joe had been dozing in the passenger seat. It hadn’t been a particularly long journey, only 115 miles door to door, but the traffic jams had been appalling and he was tired. So was I, if truth be told. We'd only had about four hours of sleep. But it was the tired of the wonderfully satiated, and therefore a pleasant calm glow, rather than exhaustion.

What roused him around the half way mark was a ping from his phone. Joe fished the thing out of his pocket and peered blearily at it. 

“Wow" I heard him breathe.

“Everything ok?” I asked, mildly curious, still concentrating on the traffic.

“Yeah. Er, I’ve had a text from an old friend", he said, looking at me sideways, apologetically. “He wants to know if I might be free to meet up next weekend".

I’m not quite sure what prompted me to pay more attention to what he was saying. Maybe it was the way he said “friend" with a certain emphasis. But I knew that I needed to let Joe know that it was safe to confide in me, and that he could trust me not to have hysterics, if he was about to say something that I might not want to hear. 

He referred to me as “Daddy" at times, and I sometimes felt like I was his surrogate father – except when I was balls deep in him.

“Well, I don’t own you, Joe. You don’t need my approval if you want to meet a friend".

“No, I know that. But he's sort of a bit more than a friend. And you’re sort of more than just a friend, too, you know. So, I sort of needed to tell you that he’s texted".

“So, you’re saying that he's an old fuck-buddy. Is that the term they use now? A fuck-buddy?”.

“Um, I suppose so. He was a friend of Terry's who I saw a few times a little while back, before I met you. He moved overseas for a while with his job. Looks like he’s back, anyway".

“Well, if you want to meet him, why don’t you text him to say that you’d be up for it then? What’s his name?”

“Um, it’s Billy. He’s black".

“OK. And?”

“He was in the Army with Terry. He was one of the guys who Terry invited over for that...er...that gang bang. You know, the one I told you about".

I did know. Joe had been very explicit in his description of what had occurred, and he had become very excited in the telling of it too. Our resulting sex as a result of his description of that gang bang was still a very fond memory. 

It was Joe's confidence in telling me of Terry's training of him, and of the gang bang that Terry had arranged for him, that had first made me look at Terry in a new light. Initially, before I became more intimately acquainted with him, I’d always thought that Terry was purely hedonistic and self-serving. Beautiful, but narcissistic and selfish. But Joe had convinced me that Terry, in fact, had helped Joe to accept himself and had done a bloody good job of it too. Which was partly why, when Terry had said that he wanted to experience a little of how Joe felt, I took him at his word. It didn’t hurt that he was a muscular, masculine stunner also. He was different to Joe and yet, in some ways that I was beginning to find out about, amazingly similar.

“Uh huh. Well, I’ve met a couple of Terry's mates already. They seem like nice guys", I said, doing my best to be positive and assuring. “They’ve certainly liked what you have available, anyway. So what’s different with Billy?”

Joe hesitated before answering, like he was trying to find the right words.

“We got on well. More than well. And he has the biggest cock I’ve ever seen! Bigger than yours even. Although nobody can fuck me like you do, Daddy".

Why did I get the feeling that the boy was buttering me up? He really didn’t need too. I’d always known that at some point he would want to move on, or play around separately from me. It was natural that he would. He was still a teenager, after all, with all of the urges to sow wild oats and follow his libido wherever it may lead him. I was envious in some ways, as Joe was living the life of a popular, accepted, gay teenager that I would have loved to have lived myself, at his age - if I hadn’t always put people off by looking as aggressive and threatening as I did. And sadly, still do.

But I found myself slightly anxious, now that Joe was possibly about to move on. It was actually happening. I wanted him to know that I would be there for him, no matter what. No clipping of his wings. The bird wanted to fly, and I had no right to stop him. Or protect him.

I drove on for a few minutes until we got to a quiet stretch of road, and pulled over.

“Joe" I said, turning in my seat belt to look directly at him. “I’m getting the sense of some unfinished business between you and Billy. Am I right?”

“Not exactly" he replied, with a semi smile. “But kind of. Billy never managed to fuck me fully. He was just so big, it never quite happened. And I’ve always felt a bit cheated that I couldn’t quite take it all".

“Ah. I see. A matter of pride, then? Like biting off more than you could swallow? And you wanted to finish the whole pork chop?”

Joe laughed, high pitched and giggly. “Yeah, something like that. It’s always been something I felt I should have done. And Billy’s a real hunk, too. I wanted him to be able to do it to me, you know? Really sink the whole thing in and know that I’d got it all".

“Right. Well, you’ve certainly had a lot of practice recently, eh? Maybe you’re a little more, um, accommodating now? Look, if you want to take up where you left off, then see him next weekend. Send him a text and arrange to meet him. 

Do you want me to come with you?”. 

I’m not really sure why I asked. I think it was to let Joe know that he had my support and that I wasn't jealous. Well, I was a little, I guess, but I considered jealousy to be a very negative emotion and certainly didn’t want to come across as possessive. Joe was a free agent, not my kept “boy". Although I was extremely fond of him, there was no commitment of any sort binding us together, exclusively or otherwise.

“No, but thanks for offering”, Joe smiled. “I definitely want to see him, but for this time at least, I’ll see him by myself. Maybe another time, though, if you want to meet him for a bit of fun? You know...with me?”

Hmmm, that sounded like an absolute possibility. The thought of seeing the boy spit roasted between my 10 inches and a guy with an apparently even bigger cock had instant appeal.

“Ok. Hold that thought! Another time, definitely. Send him a text and let him know that you’d like to see him again. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can find something to do next weekend. I might even invite Terry over for a drink".

The knowing look that Joe shot me was comical, but I had a peculiar feeling that he was aware of something that I wasn’t. 

“You like Terry, don’t you?” he asked, looking at me intently. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, I think so. He’s certainly growing on me" I replied. 

“Yes, I thought you did", he said. “He likes you, too. He didn’t think he did. But he does".

I should have asked him to elaborate a bit. I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe I had the sudden, overwhelming feeling that Joe was wise beyond his years. Maybe I was just a bit taken aback at the way he looked at me, with a slightly quizzical half smile and raised eyebrows. Whatever, we left it there and chit-chatted about nothing in particular for the remainder of the journey while I carried on driving. 

Just over an hour later, I dropped him off at the end of his road, with the promise from him that he would let me know how his visit to see Billy went.

I wondered how Terry had been managing over the weekend, and if he had found the spare key to his cock cage yet. And if he hadn’t, I was going to make him wait a little longer, just to make sure that he was really feeling the strain. It wouldn’t hurt for me to reload the tanks again for a few days anyway, after cumming so many times in quick succession with Joe. My sex life had become an epic, compared to how it used to be when I was married. But I wasn’t as young as I used to be, either. A few days recuperation was occasionally called for.

I hadn’t given the game away to Joe about my exploits with Terry. I’d promised Terry not to say anything, and I’d kept my promise. I knew that Terry didn’t want to lose face in the boy's eyes, although I strongly doubted that Joe would have minded that Terry was exploring other sides of his nature. And I'm sure he wouldn't have minded that I was enjoying a little extra-curricular activity, either.

But if young Joe was making arrangements of his own for the next weekend to enjoy himself with Billy, then I could spend a bit more time with Terry, to ramp up the pressure for him and enjoy myself also.

And I couldn’t fucking well wait.

Narrated by Terry

The lads had left my place in the morning, all pretty much recovered from the drinking session on the Saturday night. They thanked me for the beer, breakfast and the entertainment (wink wink) and they piled on the humiliation with knowing smirks, nods, shoulder slaps and blatant jokes about me deserting to the other side. I told ‘em to fuck off (with a forced smile) and that I’d let them know when Joe was free for another evening. Matt had said that they looked forward to it, or just let them know when I was free. Wink wink, nudge nudge. I replied (jokingly) that I could always find new mates. Twats. Great guys, but total twats. Known ‘em for years, wouldn’t be without them, but absolute twats.

I spent the day cleaning the car, laundry and working out on my small home gym in the garage, until finally Alec pulled up at his house late on the Sunday afternoon. I was in half a mind to hang around outside to see him, but I thought that might make me look a bit soft, like his pet or something. 

Fuck that for a game of soldiers.

Plus, I was still miffed that he had left me locked up in that fucking cock cage for well over a week. And I couldn’t trust myself not to drag him inside, rip his clothes off and jump on his thick 10 inch banana, like a pole vaulter making a landing. My arsehole was twitching as I peered out of my window at him getting out of his car. He looked brutish and surly, as always, and as hot as hell. Big, beefy and totally male. His head and face was unshaven, his legs and arm muscles seemed to strain against his clothes and I could almost smell the testosterone from my lounge. 

But I thought ‘fuck you mate, there is no way I’m going to contact you first’. I gritted my teeth to the fact that it might be a few more days yet before he sent me a text to meet up. He’d just spent his Saturday night in a shag-a-thon with Joe, hadn’t he? He had no urgency, did he? His nuts weren’t boiling over, were they?

Bastard.

The anticipated few days dragged interminably on. I didn’t dare look at any porn. I was so fucking heated up already, I was sure that steam would be escaping from my ears if I so much as glimpsed a pair of tits or a cock.

And wouldn’t you know it, working at the gym, I was fucking well surrounded by good looking flesh of all types, men and women alike. I don’t think there had ever been so much talent in the gym, over such a short space of time, since it had been built. Trying to remain detached and professional was becoming a joke. My eyes were out on stalks half the time. 

Mind you, my eyes were the only bloody things on stalks. My cock had given up trying to get hard in it’s unforgiving plastic prison. It just pulsed and wept tears of pre-jizz on an hourly basis. I’d even taken to stuffing toilet paper down my shorts, to soak up the constant stream of goo. There’s nothing worse than a gym instructor/personal trainer with a constant damp patch at the crotch. It’s not nice.

Day after sodding day, I avoided Alec like the plague in case I gave in and begged on my knees for him to sort me out. Every morning I watched him walk to his car to go to work from behind my curtains, like some nosey old lady. Watched the way he moved and how his shirt stretched around his bloody great barrel of a chest. Every day that week, sneaking a look at him like some infatuated fucking schoolgirl as I tweaked my own nipples and felt my arse twitch in response. Day after fucking day, ogling and letching after anything that had a pulse. ALL FUCKING WEEK LONG!

Come the Friday morning, I couldn’t stand it any more. My cock was the only part of my whole body that felt numb, except for the very tip of my knob which pressed constantly against the drainage hole at the bottom of the cock cage, and that was screaming with sensation. It had become so sensitive that if I accidentally brushed against it when mopping up the dribbles of piss or pre-jizz, I could feel the sharp tingle of need travel straight to my balls and settle in my abdomen like a knot. I didn’t dare touch my nipples. They seemed to be permanently hard and made me shudder if I pulled my shirt off too quick, catching one or the other on the material in the process.

I decided that I was going to lie to Alec and make up some spurious medical emergency why I needed to get the cage off, and have a much needed wank. After two whole weeks being locked up in that sodding contraption, I had a permanent ache in my middle from a swollen prostate and my balls felt so big and heavy that it was becoming obscene. And downright uncomfortable, to be honest. I felt like they were hanging so low with the weight of all the spunk that I had stored up, I’d be kicking them around the floor shortly.

So come lunchtime, before my shift at the gym started, I had just started to compose a text to Alec when Ping! I get a text from him!

Well done. You have been a good boy. Ready for your reward?

Seriously, I sat there looking at my phone with tears in my eyes. I didn’t know whether to ignore his fucking text or not. Nah, who was I kidding?! I was aware that my breathing had quickened, my heart was pounding like I’d just run a mile in three minutes and for some reason, my arsehole started to contract and clench.

I texted straight back, grinning like a Cheshire cat. And I wasn’t going to take any chances this time. Straight in with all due respect and deference...

Thankyou Sir. I’m ready and willing as soon as you are Sir.

The relief when he sent a return text was enormous.

Good boy. Tomorrow. I will come to yours 11pm when youre back from work. Your spare room this time. Be ready for me. Remember?

Remember? Huh, after last time that definately wasn’t going to be a problem. Clean as a whistle, inside and out, obviously. I’d kept up with the shaving and hair removal routine every day. My whole body was smooth. Not a hair anywhere, except my head. And I still liked it like that, too.

But I made an extra effort anyway. Pits, legs, arms, chest, pubes, arse crack...everything I could reach was scraped and slathered in the pungent cream to burn off the fuzz. Then I did it all again on the Saturday morning, before my shift at the gym.

And then of course, he'd also said not to expect to cum. Well, ok, if Alec wouldn't allow it then I'd just take what I could get, but I'd definitely yell death or disease for the key afterwards. Whatever, it was going to be SEX!!!

I was kind of excited (although very nervous) by Alec saying that he wanted to use my spare room, though. My play room. My dungeon room. The room that had a huge mirror secured to the ceiling and a big four-poster bed directly under it in the centre. And loads of hooks on the ceiling, and chains and ropes all over the place.

This was the room I usually got my subs trussed up in. This was the room that Joe had been the party piece at the gang bang I’d arranged for him. This was the room that Alec and I had screwed the kid in, many times already.

I had never, ever, been on the receiving end in that room. I’d always been the top. Always.

Not this time, though. Alec was going to use my room. Alec was going to use me.

And I couldn’t fucking well wait.

Continued (finally) in Part 10.