The Major serviced

I stayed up in the lodge at the hill station for an extra day or two after the Padre had returned to town, leaving my prick and arsehole tender but satisfied, and giving me time to refill my spunk cistern.

I was not quite sure what I would get up to. Taking tea in the English tea room was one of the few options available to a Major on holiday, it was fine if you only did it once a day, but just not very exciting. Too many pot bellies, faded spinsters, and the waiters were not up to my standards.

After a day of that and too many strolls in the Botanical Gardens, watching the doe eyed slim young men who lingered there in the shade, there was a knock on the door of the bungalow early one morning.

It was Samuel, smiling shyly. What a handsome young man he was. Good cheekbones, good teeth, good physique, as I may have mentioned before.

Major Cockburn, he said, is there anything that you need me to do for you, personally speaking? I find myself at a loose end now that the good Padre is gone and there is only one gentleman to see to - and I am very willing to be as helpful as I can be.

Ah yes, I murmured, you said you would be at my beck and call.

He stood at the door and smiled shyly. He looked again as if butter would not melt in his mouth. I again had that image in my head of butter melting up his arse.

Pictures ran through my mind of what we might do together. As if he read my thoughts his hand went down quite innocently it seemed to his groin and gently touched the bulge in his lavalava. I had noticed it before, now it seemed more prominent. I pictured it swelling under the flowered cloth. Anticipating the attentions of my hand lips and tongue.

I think you are going to be a great asset to my little holiday my lad. Samuel, is it?

He cradled the hidden parts of him under the lavalava. Indeed, I felt they required my attention urgently.

I felt a thickening response between my legs.

Samuel smiled. He nodded his head gently - Major I will strive to please.

I bet you do not get any complaints do you from your gentlemen?

He almost laughed in reply.

Oh no Sir no complaints ever, especially from the military.

Oh well, Samuel, I suppose there are one or two things that you might help me out with. If you are willing that is.

Yes Major I am very willing to lend a hand in any way I can. I know you will be very lonesome now the good Padre is gone. No more nightly chess games and cigar smoking. No more weightlifting and wrestling sir.

Had he heard the groans and moans then? Perhaps his eye had been at the keyhole? And perhaps he had pleasured himself on the other side of our bedroom door and had left a pool of semen on the doorstep? I was sure he was a good tidy servant and would have mopped the mess up promptly.

No indeed, I murmured, no more nightly anything. I imagine Samuel that you are very handy are you not?

My gentleman major have always said I am very handy. Good with my hands, is that what you say?

I smiled at him. I think we understood one another.

I will not need any references I think.

May I Major?

He reached up with a crisp white handkerchief and mopped my sweaty forehead.

Even for the mountains it had become rather hot and I was stifled. I let him wipe my skin.

Samuel smiled, taking his time with the handkerchief, and mopping my cheeks too, then my neck, round the back and then down the front to the hirsute base of my neck, where he lingered.

Major, may I make a suggestion?

I nodded. Samuel's suggestions were proving very useful and rather enjoyable. And promised well for the future.

I noticed again how well-muscled his arms were. And what good teeth. And shoulders. And how broad his chest was. And what a bulge there was in the front of his damned lavalava.

Would the Major consider losing his beard for the hot season?

I paused.

Well my dear Samuel I have had this beard for a dozen years or so since I was a young recruit. It is has become part of me.

But just for the season, sir. Let the air get at your face. And such a fine face too Major if I may say.

I shrugged. It might be diverting and amusing and of course it would grow back quickly.

And you Samuel, you would do the shaving?

Oh yes, sir, I will do the lathering and the scraping and the wiping. I am, what is the expression, a dab hand.

Very well then, come early tomorrow morning with some hot water and you can let yourself loose on my hairs and take off my virility.

I will take care of your virility sir, he said, with a straight face.

I confess I was somewhat unsettled by the turn of events but not unpleasantly so. I tossed and turned all night with images in my head of Samuel’s muscular torso – which I had not yet fully seen of course – and also the feel of his strong hands touching my face.

I regret to say I had to resort to masturbation to get off to sleep, soaking the mission sheets.

Dawn came early and I was still in bed in my pajamas when I heard the gentle knock and Samuel let himself into the bungalow, softly humming an old psalm tune I knew from the Kirk back home.

He was in a flowered lavalava and had left his top off, so that now I saw the muscles I had dreamed of. His skin was like strong coffee and his chest was broad and shiny without the slightest whisper of hair.

He was carrying a couple of bottles and had a towel over his arm. I noticed there was someone else hovering at the door carrying a small tin bath of hot water – this was I discovered from Samuel’s shy introduction the equally handsome brother Matthew, also bare chested, smooth, and wearing a lavalava.

Shall I shave the Major in bed, asked Samuel.

Mercy, that was a horny idea, but I felt this was a little too intimate, even for me, though it was tempting to just lie back on my pillows and let things happen.

I shall rise I said, so I sat, barefoot and still in my pajamas in the rattan chair at the washstand with a good view of the mirror.

Perhaps, Major, indicated Samuel, and nodded towards my jacket.

Of course I said and went to take it off, but before I could the boy had started the unbuttoning. I felt his thick fingers on my skin as he unfastened it, brushing the thick blond hair which spilled out into the open, all the way down to my trouser cord where my darker belly hair was exposed.

Samuel took his time with the unbuttoning and there was ample opportunity for him to touch my chest and abdomen, perhaps I supposed by accident.

He eased the jacket off my shoulders. and I let him, so I sat bare chested for him.

He made a sound of approval. As did Matthew.

The Major is very tanned, he commented, for indeed I was, and my shoulders were virtually mahogany, they being just about the smoothest area of my upper body, though of course dotted with coarse fair hairs all the same.

I have read in picture story books of the Vikings and often wondered what they might look like … and when I saw Mr Padre Fury … but you too, Major, you are a North Man.

And now you know, I smiled, but no horns on me. Not horny today.

He did not get that joke and in any case it was not true. I was somewhat horny after all but my head was not involved and it was best not to make any jokes about helmets. I was only too well aware of the helmet I had hidden in my pyjama trousers. Unrestrained by underdrawers.

Then he began the slow business of clipping my beard with scissors, then hacking it back a bit, then trimming, then lathering up and spreading my cheeks (no titters please) my chin and upper lip with the soap. He did all of this most expertly.

Are you a professional Samuel, I joked. You’ve done this before.

And he smiled and said yes, he had done this before. The local men were not known for the thick growth of their beards, so I imagined he had learned his skill with European gentlemen.

The lather was dripping down on to my chest a bit and Matthew was quick in with a cloth to wipe them away, wetting and darkening the dense blond growth. So I felt his broad fingers on my buried nipples again then. I am sure he felt them begin to stiffen.

I was being seen to by two handsome and attentive lads that was true. I closed my eyes often and let my imagination run free.

As he shaved me Samuel’s hand came to rest on my chest every so often, steadying himself. He made his apologies but did it again soon enough, sometimes stroking my pectorals rather more than was necessary, even finding my nipples again and no doubt feeling their stiffness now.

At last, after several cups of coffees provided by young Matthew, my thick beard began to disappear.

For the first time in a long while I was able to see my face. The effect was astonishing – I looked so much younger but also my skin was pale where the sun had not touched for some years. My upper face was like a walnut, my lower face creamy. I had not seen the blue beard of my jaw for quite an eternity.

Sir, said Samuel, shall I continue, his finger tip lightly touched foot of my neck and the top of my chest where the hair grew like a pelt.

For the hot season, no? It must make you jolly boiling hot, so much fur, like a monkey, sir.

I shook my head, it seemed so unmanly, when the Good Lord had blessed me so thickly in that department. I was proud of it too. Who would think such a hairy man could be a nancy? Many an innocent virgin had fallen through that assumption.

You see Major, Matthew and myself, are not naturally so smooth, we have masculine chests too, but we take it off, as did I believe the Romans in the Bible. In the baths.

You mean, I asked, you perform that service on each other in the baths? I had a very pleasing image in my head.

I looked afresh at their shiny pectorals and smooth abdomens.

Oh yes sir, please feel free to confirm it.

Samuel took my hand and placed it on his chest, near his right nipple. True there was the merest suggestion of stubble. His nipple was perky too I noted. I had to stop myself from rubbing more than was necessary.

We Islanders, said Samuel, are not so virile in that area as you Major, but we do it all the same. It keeps us cool and clean and we do not look like rough monkeys any more.

I laughed.

Are you saying I am a monkey, Samuel.

A gorilla sir, a Viking gorilla.

He looked to see if I had taken offence and if he had gone too far.

I shared the joke and chortled.

Oh I dare say it is just for the hot season and it will grow again, perhaps thicker than before … do your worst then boys. I am in your hands.

The boys chuckled and Matthew was sent for more hot water.

The new arrangement now required Samuel to stand in front of me between my legs. I spread my knees wide, still in my striped pyjama trousers and bare feet.

I confess this new arrangement was somewhat erotically charged, the clipping and the scissoring and the smoothing took some time. In the first phase he clipped me all over so that my torso was tamed thoroughly – instead of several inches deep of wild gold hair I then had only a little neat growth as if I had a little woollen undershirt over my skin, from my woolly shoulders via forest at the base of my neck to the pyjama cord, where the burst of hair suggested what prospered lustily beneath.

Then he slathered on the lather and took to destroying my chest hair with a vengeance. The tin basin was soon full again with floating clippings, a thick swamp of the virility I had been cultivating since I was 16.

It was a little awkward when we got to that waistband down below. I was clearly very hirsute in that area, with a bush which flared up and was almost visible below my navel.

Samuel paused.

Major, do you want to go completely clean and smooth – down there too?

I thought for a moment.

It is the hot season sir, he said. The Major gets very hot down there.

Indeed I do I thought, and often.

So I do, I replied, so I do, ah well in for a penny, in for a pound I declared, and my fingers went to go down to my pyjama cord.

But Samuel got there first.

Allow me Major he said, and loosened the cord.

I heard Matthew make some sort of low noise as Samuel parted the flies of the trews and it became apparent what was down there.

If the Major might only … said Samuel.

I understood and lifted my arse from the chair so that he might pull the trousers clear of my groin.

Fuck, I was exposing myself to these young men. But fuck it was a little too late to worry about that. No point in barring the stable door when the stallion was out, eh?

I had tried to be decent but of course the belly hair led all the way down to the base of my prick, which was, thank the good Lord, slumbering between my legs at that moment, or more or less slumbering.

The slumbering would not last long I feared, knowing that two sets of young and admiring dark eyes were now fixed on my member.

I felt the blood flow down into that spot, ready to rise like the morning sun.

I fear I was now sporting what the lower middle classes called houses built in twos – a semi.

I dared a look in the mirror to confirm what I knew already. I stole a glance and saw not only my rising cock but the most beautiful appreciative smile on Matthew’s handsome face.

I felt Samuel’s fingers begin to brush and pay attention down there. I rose a little more. The trousers were pulled down a little more. I let him do that and closed my eyes, feeling a gentle tug so that the pyjamas began to be urged down to my knees.

I spread my legs wider so the trews did not immediately fall to my ankles, but all the same I knew my hardening sex was exposed to the two men.

The semi was now - so to speak – no longer a semi but a detached erection and more like the leaning tower of Pisa every moment. There was no hiding it from the boys now. It was standing proud in a still rugged park land, adding inches every second. The crowning knob, gentlemen, as you can imagine, was getting particularly monumental.

I heard a giggle and closed my eyes tighter.

Do your worst, I murmured, I am in your hands. But for fuck’s sake watch what you do with that fuckin razor, eh lad?

Samuel replied that I was in very safe hands.

There was much lathering and smoothing and scraping and shaving. I did not look down but felt the soap and the fingers and the careful razor and the feeling of smoothness emerging from that hot sweaty secret region.

Both the young men were making quiet comments now as Samuel shaved my crotch, but in their own language.

I felt his fingers press my cock to the side out of the way of the sharp blade, my balls handled and gently caressed. At least my sturdy erection kept my manhood out of harm’s way.

Major, said Samuel, thank you for being so patient, the hard work is almost done. If you like, Matthew and I can share something with you. But only if you like.

What did he mean, perhaps I knew.

I felt a wet flannel placed over my forehead and down over my eyes, so that there was only a pinkish fog in my vision.

Relax sir.

My hands were lifted from the arm rest and gently moved a little. My arms were spread out on either side so that my fingers were now pressed against the rough cotton of local lavalavas, or rather pressed against the bulging fronts of two different lavalavas.

I felt a bit like those old pictures of smooth pale Jesus in extremis, except of course I was now lacking a loincloth and a beard. Excuse my blasphemy.

I could not in truth yet tell which stiff cock belonged to Samuel and which stiff cock to Matthew, but I rubbed them all the same through the cloth. And continued rubbing. In reply their cocks stiffened further and I was confident I would, at the very least, suck them soon.

The boys each moved back a step or two so I had to stretch to grab their bulges again, almost beyond my reach. Then each took my hand and pressed it hard against their lengths again.

They sighed, both of them. I nearly leapt of my chair to fuck them in turn, but they pushed me back.

Patience, Major, patience.

They teased me and giggled. I felt my nipples tweaked, perhaps the lick of a tongue or two.

My own groin now sported a towering colonial cock, it felt rather like Mount Everest. I rather thought it must be leaking.

There were more guttural words in the local language.

Then I felt a different sensation. A hand was gently touching my cock, and then as I did not protest, but it only got harder and bigger, the touch became more vigorous, the tugging more assertive, the oozing knob caressed.

I threw back my head and groaned. I let out a most un-Christian oath.

Instantly the wanking stopped.

Perhaps the mission boys were shocked by my language. Or perhaps they were just being little teasing buggers.

Please, I murmured, do not stop for pity’s sake lads. Do not spare the horses.

That apparently was understood, even up in the mountains.

It is you, Major Cockburn, who are resembling the horse at the moment, said Samuel, and they both giggled.

They resumed, more energetically and forcefully, and a mouth or two was added to the attention.

I moaned again, swore again in blasphemy, and this time it did not stop, only accelerated. I was clearly being taken somewhere very quickly with few stops on the way.

My balls were being licked and sucked too – by another mouth I thought. Both of them were working on me now.

I bucked in the chair, forcing my cock up in the air, even as it was tugged and serviced and grabbed again. There were fingers on my newly smooth chest and on my now stiffened nipples, naked now on my pectorals. There were tongues on me now, teeth on my stiff nips.

And then oh my God, there was a probing thick finger with a neatly trimmed nail at my still hairy arsehole. In it plunged, exploring.

I gasped. Then another joined it. I gasped again. I growled. Then, fuck me, a third slipped in.

I moaned when they slipped out. Again, I managed, and then, fuck me, it was a tongue in there, probing.

I let go of their hard cocks and grasped the arms of the chair tightly and swore long and loud. None of it fit for the ears of servants or clergymen.

It was too much.

I roared like a bull, I shot like a bull, bucking, thrusting and pumping, rocketing boiling spunk out of my purple spouting knob. Not just the once, but many times, and not diminishing in vigour, but the next shot more plentiful than the next. Samuel told me afterwards that the fourth was by far the best though I could not have told you that at the time.  

Hallelujah!

My eyes were tightly shut under the wet flannel, but I heard the boys laughing and exclaiming as I shot.

I felt my own hot seed land on my bare blue chin, each shot echoed by a cry from the boys. It must be spattering them too.

I groaned and moaned and cried out as the semen flew, Jesus Christ.

They clapped their hands in joyful exclamation as if they were at a church concert and the Angel Gabriel had made an appearance.

Praise the Lord, they cried, and giggled.

At last the shuddering and the shaking and the swearing and the shooting subsided. I trembled still, my bare chest and stomach rose and fell jerkily under its sticky covering of hot spunk, my cock continued to throb, as if it had been connected to one of those new electric motors.

I felt the flannel removed and a cool hand on my brow.

There, there, Major, said Samuel. Oh what a big business you have done sir.

Gold medal, added Matthew.

Then there was a flannel and cool water all over me and much laughter and I opened my eyes at last and looked in the mirror and saw myself and the two dark lads, all three of us smooth and bare chested, but me wet with fresh water and my cheeks scarlet under the tan.

My cock still stood straight up, the knob still bulbous and purple, and now only leaking a thin stream of bright white stuff. It still throbbed, tho more gently now.

I saw my teenage school boy self look back at me from the mirror, but it was an illusion - there were lines at my eyes and my temples were greying. All the same it was a different me.

Samuel had worked expertly in my groin with the razor, so that my organ sat plumply in a bare patch, without its bush, it was revealed, and in another illusion looked taller, fatter, and altogether whiter than usual. The knob however was as mauve as usual and the blood was still pumping into it.

You are a fine figure of a man, Major, said Samuel, and Matthew echoed him.

A fine figure, top of the class, he added.

Yes indeed sir. Not a gorilla any more Major, but quite the showjumper.

They giggled again.

Both of them I noted were still streaked with my cum and had not rushed to wipe it away.

Matthew I noticed was licking some of my semen off his finger, and looked like he savoured the taste.

He caught me watching and grinned, touched his bare tummy.

Yum yum, he said.

I groaned, then yawned.

It was still early in the morning, the hot sun barely up. I stood up quickly. My pyjama trews fell to my ankles.

I stepped out of them. I was totally naked, freshly shaved and washed, smooth save for my forearms, my thighs and legs, and the light growth which still clung to my balls.

How had they missed that? Should I ask them to complete their task? On second thoughts I liked the feel of fingers on the hairs there. They could remain.

I did feel like the teenager I had once been, lusty in my drawers in the dorm, the changing room and the swimming baths, spying on boys cocks, watching for puberty and erections.

I was beyond shame, standing in the middle of the room naked, a muscular smooth man, with a cock impressive still for all its recent discharging.

I must thank you both I said, what would please you? I mean over and above your rightful earnings of course.

My cock nodded eloquently as I spoke, inviting an answer no doubt, I was offering a swollen tip for sharing, more than a tip of spare change.

The young men looked at one another.

Silently, both Samuel and Matthew went across the room, and as they reached the bed, their lavalavas had dropped to the floor, leaving a magnificent show of their smooth firm buttocks and big cocks, both of a pair, equally matched and now more or less erect.

Samuel spoke.

Major, both Matthew and myself have a busy day ahead sir. We must earn wages for our wives and families sir, but we would very much like to make time for you now before we commence our other duties.

Wives and families? I had imagined these were teenage boys – now looking at their muscled nakedness I reckoned they must be 21 or so.

Will the Major join us here and be the bully beef in our sandwich?

Now, who had taught him that one? Some randy pervert colonel no doubt.

They lay down on the bed, which luckily was the marital double for visiting missionary couples, leaving a space between which was they indicated with smiles and gestures they reserved for me.

Their hard cocks wavered over the smooth dark expanse of their stomachs.

I strode towards them, newly bare and smooth, but my cock standing up and swinging heavily all the same from its bare root upwards. Hirsute no longer, but as randy and eager as a smooth teenager. I still had spunk which needed shooting, I could see the glitter of recent or perhaps future semen on my knobhead, I knew it was eager to show off again.

Now the question simply was – whose arse would be filled first? Would I take Samuel like a monkey from behind or would I pierce shy Matthew from below as I lay on the sheets?

Reader, it was my arse and mouth which was stuffed first.

Samuel took me like a demon, no mercy given, while Mathew’s cock went down my throat like a rocket. His sperms by the way did taste of sweet pineapple. Samuel’s was more of the salty variety.

Then they switched and switched again. The boys clearly liked fucking the boss. For me, so many times the energetic top boss man in the sheets, I rather enjoyed the change. I was on holiday after all and a change is as good as a rest.

Stop, stop, I had to cry out. I felt like some ruined tart purchased by a pair of sex starved soldiers

I had fresh loads of their spunk dripping out of me, when we paused and I lay my head back on the pillow and called for coffee, which may seem rather selfish of me in retrospect.

Samuel sent Matthew off to deal with that cheerfully enough.

I took the opportunity to close my eyes and doze for a moment or two while Samuel ran his fingers over my bare chest and teased my thick and ever ready prick as it re-charged.

Matthew returned with the tray – coffee pot and cup and what looked like a coil of fine rope.

What’s this I said, taking the coffee cup.

After a couple of sips Samuel took the cup from me.

Just a moment Major and you will have some more. Matthew will be quick.

Matthew was quick and in a minute or so, without protestation on my part, my wrists were tied to the bed posts, my ankles too. I was spreadeagled, naked, a tanned military man of thirty, with an almighty fuckin hard-on standing up over a smooth stomach.

Samuel held the coffee cup to my lips.

Oh Jesus Christ, what did the pair have in store for me next. What sort of tip was I about to pay?

I asked them they thought they were doing now?

In answer Samuel pulled a scarf out of somewhere and gagged me. It was good quality silk, perhaps dropped by a colonel’s daughter.

The door of the lodge opened suddenly.

The sun was strong now behind the visitor, who filled the doorway.

I made guttural noises through my gag.

Samuel and the newcomer exchanged sharp words in the local dialect.

The stranger came up to the bed and towered over me. He was high, wide, and handsome.

Major, said Samuel into my ear, this is our little brother Ahab, he is the very black goat of the family I am afraid. He is very keen to make your acquaintance.

If I had been able to speak I might have said something to the effect that it was a pleasure to meet the third brother in such a handsome family.

Ahab’s fingers went to his flies and I had a damn clear idea of what awaited me. And I had not even had my breakfast yet.

To be continued …