The Long And The Short Of It

My good times with Terry lasted for nearly 3 months before we (both of us) started to get a bit bored.

It was never going to be a “relationship". For one thing, I still lived at home, with my parents, who were busy subsidising my college fees, and at 39, Terry was used to being single and independent – and liked it that way. He found my small, teenage, gymnast trained and hairless body a huge turn-on. I loved his muscular, hairy, much taller and older frame. On paper it seemed like a match made in heaven.

But, as he told me right at the start, he was bisexual, leaning more towards women. He thoroughly enjoyed getting together with a younger, cute, inexperienced little stud, and breaking them in – especially if they were submissive. But he wasn’t ready to settle down with anyone, least of all a teenage male sex fiend, who was brand new to the party.

It was kind of a relief when he explained it like that. His handling of me, giving me my first (fantastic) experiences, had been exactly what I needed. The sex had been mind blowing, my own sets of preferences had been established, and my confidence boosted way up. We got on very well, but were very different people. Apart from the gym and sex, we had little else in common.I didn’t want a “relationship" with him, either, other than as a friend or for an occasional, casual and (sadly, increasingly less explosive) hook-up. I still found it thrilling but I was new to all of this and wanted to experience....oh, I don't know....more. Different. Differently more.

And I think he was definitely ready to get back to the fanny for a while.

We had a conversation one day, about four months after he had claimed my virginity, and my visits to see him had dwindled to once every other week or so. He wasn’t seeing anyone else, so far as I know. I certainly wasn’t, I was still too self conscious with anyone other than him. 

“It's not that it isn’t great to see you, Joe" he explained, “and I'm honestly pleased that I could help to set your feet on your path. But it's YOUR path, not mine. You need to start getting out there and meeting other people; get some other experiences.

You’re a gorgeous little stud. Any gay guy in his right mind would love to get into your pants. You’ve taken to being controlled and dominated in sex like a duck to water – I trained you, kid, believe me, you’re a natural! So what’s stopping you? Come on, you're eighteen, you’re a gymnast, you take it up the arse and can deep throat for England - you're a wet dream come to life! Get out there and get some! What do you need, an advert? Like “5 foot 4 blonde, double-jointed teenage gymnast – likes bondage, answers to Boy, insatiable arse - needs your cock NOW" sort of thing?

Just think about what you WANT, and go for it!”

I laughed, but his words had started my imagination going.

“What do I want? More of everything, I think. A bigger experience. To be the only bottom in a room full of tops, maybe...... Do you know a group of hunks who want a gang bang?” I asked, only half joking.

Now Terry laughed. “Bloody hell! What have I created and let loose on the world?! Are you being serious?”

I thought about it for probably 10 seconds. The control and domination porn that I loved and had seen, was almost exclusively one on one, but Terry had several straight porn videos, one of which had a big titted girl taking it from several men in succession, and she also had a proper spit roast, the lucky bitch.

“Yeah, I think I am serious. I think that's what I’d like to experience. A gang bang".

Terry sat with his mouth open, catching flies. Then I saw that familiar look come into his eyes as his sex drive caught up with his brain, and joined forces. And his crotch started to fill out.

“Like, with you as the bangee? Fuck me sideways! That would be something to see! Hells bells, you’re turning into a right randy little raver, you are!

Well, it just so happens that some of my old army mates have very mixed tastes. I know for a fact that a few of them aren’t adverse to a bit of arse, when there’s no pussy available. Hmmm....you know, I’m not making any promises, but I might just contact some of them, see how they’re doing, sound them out and if they’re up for it.

Leave it with me for a bit.

Now, you horny little bastard, I do you a favour, I expect your gratitude. So you’d better be completely naked in ten seconds. I’m going to be  spending the next hour getting you reacquainted with my massive dripping cock....”

***

A week later, on a Thursday, Terry texted and asked me to give him a call.

“Right, it looks like your wish is going to be granted” he said. “I’m not going to give the game away just yet, but pop round tonight after I’ve locked up the gym, so I can get your sad little willie locked up, too”.

And so, later that evening, I was once again wearing the clear plastic and unforgivingly solid cock cage like an old friend. I hadn’t been forcibly prevented from getting an erection in months. Or restrained by my arms from the ceiling hooks and with my ankles secured to his heavy furniture either, in a wide open, standing X. It was very exciting.

Terry was in front of me, in nothing but his shorts. I was struggling to look up at his face and keep my eyes on his......but his broad, hairy chest was extremely distracting.

“Right, now listen up, boy” growled Terry (reverting to his dominant persona to get my engine started, bless him). “This stays on for three weeks”. (My first reaction was: What? I’m eighteen! I have at least two wanks every day! Three whole bloody weeks!? I’ll never manage it!!).

I could see that Terry was getting into this now – the last time I’d seen that look in his eyes was when he was describing my training to me at our first meeting.

“You want a new experience, you get a new experience. But you’re going to have to trust me". (I did. Well, he'd had me trussed up loads of times like an oven-ready turkey, naked and helpless, while he took all sorts of rude liberties with my poor, defenceless body. But yes, I trusted him).

“In three weeks on Saturday, I’m having a little reunion get together here for some old mates of mine. Old army mates, haven’t seen them for a while, eight or nine of them or so, be nice to catch up, yeah? Nothing major, just some beer, wine, something to nibble on, lube, bit of music, the usual, nice and relaxed. It’s likely to go on all night so they’ll all be staying over, just as well there’s plenty of room really, nice big sofa, nice big bed and a decent spare room. They like a bit of excitement, the lads, a few party games, bit of a laugh, get a bit raucous sometimes, well they all work hard and have to let off a bit of steam every now and then. A real shame not one of their girlfriends or wives can make it, just the way it goes unfortunately, busy with kids I suppose. Still, I expect they’ll find a way to make their own entertainment, eh?”

He was looking down into my face as he said all this in a rapid-fire rush, his mouth set in his familiar predatory leer, his eyes flashing with dominant lust. He was busy teasing my nipples with his fingers as he spoke. I was gasping, my hips jerking uncontrollably with anticipation.

“Now, I’d like you to come round after the lads arrive, yeah? Serve a few drinks, make sure they’re comfortable, make sure they’ve got whatever they need, ok? They’re all big strapping blokes, my old mates, every one of them, always had quite an appetite, nice bit of fish usually, can’t always get it of course. So anything really, veal, lamb.....chicken.....’specially if its tender. They’ll all tuck in then, no problem".

He moved his big and capable right hand to my sensitive, hairless little scrotum and tickled it with his fingertips. Now I was panting and could feel my anus contracting, clutching at air.

“Course, after three weeks I imagine that you’re going to be buzzing, eh? Getting a bit keen for a bit of relief, probably. You don’t know the half of it, boy. I’m going to be making sure that you are. You get nothing till then. Nothing, except what I drip feed to you. Get you horned up.....well, you would be if it wasn’t for the cage, eh? Ha ha ha! 

From tonight, your clothes stay on, everytime you come round here. I’ll treat you to some stories, that’ll be nice for you, wont it? Save all your embarrassment, too, not showing off that muscley little, hairless, gymnast body of yours. I know how you get all humiliated. It’s a right shame, dunno what I’ve been thinking of, putting you through that. 

Right, that’s it for now. I’ve still got a few more phone numbers to find. I’ll let you down from the ceiling, you can get your clothes on, and piss off. 

Till tomorrow night, anyway....”

***

He gave me a present the following evening. A dildo. It was the first I’d ever had. Like a small, featureless, black rubber torpedo but with a wide, flat base to prevent total insertion, it was about the size of my cock – about four inches long - and not much wider than a finger. It was never going to win any prizes, let alone my profuse thanks. (I’ve said before, haven’t I? I have a small cock. There, now I’ve said it).

I took it from him between finger and thumb, eyeing it with unconcealed disappointment.

“You use that every day. It’s going to be the only action you get for three weeks, so it’ll keep you occupied. Besides, you’ll need to keep in practice a bit". 

The next three weeks were absolute hell.

Terry didn’t want me there every night; it was usually about every third evening. I was completely free to move around, not a rope or any other restraint in sight. My clothes stayed on. And he told me some stories of his sex life, in fairly graphic detail, mostly involving women but a couple about his exploits with a few young men he'd “known".

There was no question that Terry was strictly a top. He loved to be in control. The power trip gave him a buzz like nothing else. And listening to him relate some of his lurid exploits was mindblowingly erotic.

Twice, he put on a straight porn video of this young, blonde girl being shafted left, right and centre by half a dozen guys, one after the other, and said that the scene with her being spit roasted “looked like she was struggling to cope". He grinned at me. I could barely take my eyes off the screen to acknowledge him - my libido was on fire. 

When I got home, I spent an hour with the dildo he’d given me jammed up my arse, just trying to get some satisfaction, while the memory of all those cocks fucking that girl in the film were still fresh in my mind. It didn’t work.....it just barely grazed my prostate and made me hornier.

Occasionally, he’d rub my chest or strum a nipple through my tee shirt. Sometimes he would run a hand down my back and squeeze my bubble butt, or my thigh, through my jeans. But that was all - apart from laugh at me when I started drooling.

Most times, he would be shirtless in his jeans (oh my God, his hairy, meaty pecs were incredible) or in his gym vest and ridiculous, baggy shorts - his big, muscle bound and hairy thighs being revealed whenever he sat down. Teasing, raising my expectations, dropping hints and sex references in every conversation. I was getting so hot and bothered, I fidgeted all the time. And all the while my clothes stayed on.

It was total. Fucking. Torture.

I could see that he was nearly as desperate for sex as I was. With the size of his packet, it was fairly obvious when his thick cock was making a bid for freedom down his thigh. 

But at least he could have a bit of self abuse when I left. Terry had the key to my cock cage and resolutely refused to hand it over. Even as flexible as I was, I couldn't pick the lock on it (I had tried that the previous week and just ended up nicking my scrotum with the screwdriver and being even more frustrated, but in a different way).

The dildo was in use every day, religiously. I was getting so tense and  heated up through lack of sex I’m surprised the bloody thing hadn’t melted by the time it came out of my bum. It was so small that I barely felt it – I had to clench like mad just to stop the stupid fucking thing from dropping out.

On the Thursday before his “reunion party", and in addition to a few more porno films, Terry started to tell me of his adventures in the Army, and of some of his mates.....Mad Matt, who’d been an engineer, did kick boxing and karate, had a broken nose and more muscles than sense..... Titch the Freak, who was a slim and ultra fit marathon runner, 6 feet 5 inches tall and had a correspondingly long and slim penis that he could whirl around like a helicopter rotor.....Billy the Willie, black, built like a tank, had the biggest cock in the unit.....Pervy Mike, who had been a weapons technician and had a liking for small Thai women (and Ladyboys too, apparently).....James and Dave, both keen rugby players.....Mark, who’d been awarded a medal for bravery and was now a builder...... the names went on. Terry obviously had some very fond memories of them. They’d all been soldiers and/or non commissioned officers, and definately blokes rather than gentlemen. He told me of some of the wild parties they'd had, and some of the women who'd attended as fresh young ladies but left exhausted, or as nymphomaniacs, after they’d been seduced and shared or passed around.

Terry grinned, his eyes flashing me a thousand watts of sexual frustration, which only served to increase my own horny anticipation.

“Yep. When they get together, it’s just pure testosterone. When I spoke to them, none of them had been getting much lately. Kids, work, responsibility and significant others all bitching at them to make a living. They’re looking forward to kicking back and taking a load off for the night.

You wanted more, you’ve got more. And kid, they’re all looking forward to meeting you, big time. Oh, and I do mean big. Most of ‘em are as big as me. A few are even bigger. In every way.

But I don’t reckon that’s going to be too much of a problem, eh? I bet by now you’re so hot that you’re cooking. And I bet that pathetic little dildo just isn’t cutting the mustard at all, is it? Still, it’s done its job, kept your tight little rubber ring a bit more supple. Don’t want the boys disappointed. Never mind, you’ll soon have enough to keep you happy for a while. Although after three weeks I bet you’re so used to having your clothes on by now, that as soon they get you stripped off, you nearly die of embarrassment. Just thinking about it.... you, a teenager, totally naked and not a pube to your name, blushing and shy, as a load of fully clothed, big, hairy fuckers get to feel you up and pass you around. 

I bet they spend the first hour taking turns to feel your pecs and just suck on your perky little nipples. Maybe they’ll divide you up, one on each tit, someone with his tongue down your throat, someone else pulling on and playing with your aching little balls, while several more are each trying to work a finger through that gorgeous tight arse. And then, boy, you’ve got a room full of oversexed, testosterone fuelled bulls who are very keen to introduce themselves to you very, very badly".

He stretched. His cock was tenting his shorts (again). I wanted to suck the wet spot dry, then him.

I was practically bouncing on my chair with my overheated imagination venting steam through my ears. The persistent, sticky patch in my pants from my continually leaking, locked up little dick was making my balls uncomfortable. I couldn’t wait for Saturday, to be able to finally cum and release the pressure.

“I’ve got some arrangements to make tomorrow, so you’ll have to keep yourself entertained when you go home after gym, yeah?

Read a book, maybe. Take up knitting. Have a nice cold shower, eh? Get plenty of sleep. And then be here, 9:00pm sharp, on Saturday, clean as a whistle.

“Oh, and Joe, this is about them getting their rocks off. You’re just the cum dump.

The cock cage stays on".

To be Continued in Part 4