Confessions of a Wannabe Gay Sex Slave - Chapters 1

Disclaimer:

This story is intended for adults interested in homosexual erotica. If that is not something that you wish to read then go no further.

All characters and situations are fictional, though hopefully plausible, and grounded in reality.

The work published here is all my own with all rights reserved.

The author is based in the UK so the diction reflects this but my stories involve characters of different ethnicities and many are set in locations outside the UK.

My thanks go to Nifty for all the pleasure the Archive has given me over the years and for the opportunity to bring my writing efforts to the attention of those who share my particular erotic interests. Readers are encouraged to make a donation to keep the archive going for many more years.

As always, feedback both critical and complimentary is welcome via e-mail to: barneybumpkin@gmail.com.

Please don't contact me with commercial requests or advertising.

Hope you enjoy

Barney

Summary

In this off-beat erotic comedy Barney Bumpkin charts the sexual adventures of fifty-year-old gay Londoner, Alan, who after being made redundant from his job after 25 years' service, decides to pursue his long-held ambition to become the sex slave of another man.

After a year of searching dating websites, he eventually stumbles across Ram, a feisty thirty-year-old of Indian ancestry, who he realises has the potential to fulfil his fantasies.

However, although the youngster possesses the good looks, desire, self-confidence and intelligence he is seeking, he is far from his perfect match and a battle of wills ensues between them as each strives to get closer to what they want from the other.

Whilst Alan attempts to steer the headstrong young top toward providing the type of domination that excites him the most, Ram sets about training the former dom to better meet his more straightforward needs, sex-wise and otherwise.

Via their on-line message exchanges and a series of increasingly humiliating sexual encounters, many of which take place in public places and involve others, the author brings to life their stormy relationship and depicts both the highs and lows of Alan's quest to find his ideal master.

Reader's Comments on Barney's previous work

"I enjoyed reading your story. It is well-written, with good pace and detail. The theme is imaginative and so hot."

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PART FOUR

Chapter Twenty-Five

Although Ram's flat was located only a short drive away from Backstreet, one of London's longest established gay leather venues, I was pretty sure he had never visited it, as I recalled the distaste he'd expressed when I'd suggested that we rendezvous at a gay club for our first meeting. As I had been introduced to the leather scene by a more sexually adventurous friend whilst in my early thirties, my own familiarity with the place went back many years, so it had not occurred to me that this might be a world in which the young Indian top felt ill at ease.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that gay life had changed fundamentally since my own youth due to the advent of internet dating. Now gay men could arrange sexual encounters discretely and easily without ever venturing out on the gay scene at all. So, I could see why a closeted youngster like Ram might choose not spend his time and money frequenting gay pubs and clubs, where he might be spotted by someone he knew, drinks and entrance charges were usually expensive and he might be pestered by guys he didn't fancy.

Especially when on the dating website, he was inundated with messages from thousands of on-line admirers that he could accept or reject with the click of a mouse.

I also had to admit that as a youngster I had found some aspects of the gay scene pretty off-putting and even scary. The, seemingly obligatory, lip-sink drag shows were not to my taste for a start and I recollect being fearful of what predatory older guys might do to me should I dare to venture into a club dark-room alone! I remember saying priggishly to my friends who were darkroom enthusiasts that I liked to see who I was having sex with!

In contrast, in recent years, I was more than happy to embrace the darkness provided by backrooms, mazes, saunas and late-night outdoor cruising grounds, to both disguise my own shortcomings and enhance a partner's sex appeal, and was hooked on the sexual adventures involving multiple partners in public places that they afforded. Something I guessed Ram had not experienced yet, but which I was convinced he would find just as arousing as I did myself.

However, despite leather sex being far more high-profile and widespread than it used to be, and youngsters less naive than I was in my twenties and thirties as a result of the internet, I suspected many young gay guys still preferred to steer clear of leather bars. Not least, because their greater sexual knowledge would alert them to what they might encounter there - ranging from rough sex and bondage to the extremes of sexual violence, breath control, fisting, flagellation and torture! In addition to these fears, they might also not care to rub shoulders with gay men who shared a fetish for wearing leather, rubber and the like. So, as a top with his own flat who was pretty content with conventional sex in private with as many partners as he could fit into his schedule, I could understand why Ram might want nothing to do with it - especially in the absence of a mentor to help him break the ice, such as the one I'd had myself.

It had taken me a while to realise that what goes on in leather bars is no less consensual than elsewhere on the gay scene, as no one wants to be made to participate in sexual activities that don't turn them on. I also realised that in many ways having sex in a club is actually safer than meeting up with a stranger at his home or your own, especially if there is nobody else around to look out for your safety if things get out of hand. Being heavily cruised in pubs and clubs also helps provide a novice with the self-confidence to say no and walk away from a sexual partner who is proposing something unsafe - which some young guys find difficult to do - especially if they are alone with a new partner.

That said, in recent years, rather than use Backstreet as a cruising ground where I might pick up a new sex- buddy, its prime attraction for me had been as a gay sexual playground where I could take a guy I had already met, to indulge my desire for sub/dom sex in front of a gay audience in comparative safety but with the added attraction that other guys might also join in. However, in the past I had always been the one playing the dominant role - whether I would find the place as conducive when I was the one who was being stripped, humiliated and made completely powerless, possibly in front of guys who knew me, remained to be seen!

Nevertheless when, one morning, after much pleading, I received a message from Ram finally agreeing to accompany me to the club, I became so excited that I instantly sprouted an erection! T hursday 21.30 hours - my place

bring your collection of leather wear, bondage gear and sex toys for me to peruse prior to our outing... ... dress in the outfit you usually wear for Backstreet... but in advance you are to shave your arse, balls, pubes and armpits

Thankfully, Ram had taken my advice that our first visit should be on a Thursday night, because the place would be less busy than at the weekend and allow him time to grow accustomed to his surroundings and remain in control despite him being a newcomer. For once, he had also given me almost a week to prepare for our outing, so I crossed my fingers that nothing would come up to make him change his mind and, in the meantime, increased the length of my daily workout and was careful not to over-eat, as I knew that if my body was fully shaved any imperfections weight-wise would be plain to see. After wanking-off twice over the prospect of first my public outing as Ram's sex slave, for the five days prior to our visit, I chose to remain celibate to ensure I would be extra horny.

Such was the size of my collection of SM and leather gear by this point that the holdall was so heavy it was a struggle to lift it! But somehow, I managed to deposit it into the trunk of my car. Alongside it, I placed the small black leather rucksack that I usually took with me when I went cruising outdoors, to store a guy's clothes and possessions in after I'd removed them to prevent anything going astray, thinking Ram could use it to check in my own outfit, should he choose something more humiliating for me to wear once we arrived at the club.

After a meagre dinner, I went to the bathroom to prepare myself for my first ever night out with Ram. Although I regularly shaved off the hair from around my arse and balls, I had not zapped my pubes or armpit hair for quite a while. However, I loved the added vulnerability it gave me by leaving my cock and hole completely exposed and my ball sack silky smooth to the touch and immediately found myself sprouting an erection.

But what excited me the most was what having a shaved crotch and armpits signified to others - proclaiming that I was more of a boy than a man and that I had either willingly allowed another guy to remove this symbol of my manhood or had done it to myself to broadcast the fact that I was a sub on the lookout for a man to fuck me. I had been hoping that Ram would make this demand of me ever since we had met, so I was especially pleased that he had chosen to take me up on it again for my first public appearance as his sub.

As directed, I dressed smartly in my black leather jeans and waistcoat, wore a long-sleeved tan coloured shirt, black socks and boots (no underwear) and I also took along with me the leather Muir cap I usually wore in leather venues hoping I could persuade Ram to wear it once we arrived at the club. It was a rule strictly applied at Backstreet that you had to wear at least one item of black leather or rubber in order to gain admission and it was on this basis that I had managed to persuade a reluctant Ram to choose something from my collection to wear. I could hardly wait to see how the handsome Indian would look dressed head to toe in tight-fitting latex or black leather.

I was checking my messages for the last time before I set off for Stratford, when I discovered I'd received a new one from Ram. As I opened it up, I hoped against hope he wasn't about to cancel our night out at the last minute, only to heave a sighed of relief when I discovered my mischievous young master had added another requirement to make my appearance even more humiliating.

...should have mentioned previously... before you set off, you are to spank your arse twenty or more times so it glows a nice rosy red by the time we arrive at the club...

I drove round the, virtually empty, North Circular, parked in the street as close to Ram's block as I could, then toted the bulging holdall and rucksack to his door and rang the buzzer for entry. After staggering up the stairs to deposit them in his hallway, I found a note on the lounge door telling me to leave the bag and return to the car to wait for him there. Fifteen minutes later, I received a text on my phone that he was ready, instructing me to drive into the car park, so he could board quickly without being noticed.

In the light above the entrance door, Ram was truly a sight to behold... Although he had drawn the line at wearing chaps (choosing instead black denim jeans of his own) he wore my biker jacket, black leather boots and a pure white shirt which contrasted beautifully with his tanned skin and raven black hair.

"Off you go!" he demanded, clambering into the back seat, as though he were taking a taxi, "You can pick up your stuff when we get back!" he added breathlessly, closing the door behind him.

He was about to set down the leather rucksack beside him, when he spotted the Muir cap, I'd left out for him to wear on the rear seat. After sniggering, he placed it on his head to try it out for size and then peered over my shoulder to check himself out in the mirror on the rear of the sun-blind.

"It looks great on you!" I couldn't help saying as I pulled out of the car park, in another attempt to get him to wear it, as it would not only add a final flourish to his already stunning outfit but also made it clear to everyone else at the club that he was my master!

"Keep your eyes on the road, slave!" he replied jokingly, setting the cap back down on the seat beside him, clearly excited at what lay ahead but also a little nervous at the prospect of his first visit to a leather bar.

Amused, I found it hard to keep a straight face as I proudly drove the two of us to the club in nearby Mile End.

We arrived shortly after ten and as the place was open until 2am, I had no problem parking close by the entrance. I held the car door open for Ram to exit and watched reverently as he clambered out with the Muir cap tucked underneath his arm and my leather rucksack slung over his shoulder ready for action!

"Now you can hand over your wallet - as this night-out is definitely your treat!" he added as we approached the club entrance. I did as I as bid and quickly followed in my master's wake as he led me past a couple of parked motorcycles and through the inconspicuous black-painted door into the lights of the club foyer.

Immediately faced with the check-in counter, Ram declared we were both guests, as I had briefed him to do on our journey (as I'd let my membership lapse) extracted a couple of notes from my wallet sufficient to cover the cost of entry and confidently handed them over to the doorman as though he were a regular.

I had to laugh when I saw the landlord's jaw drop open and his usually wary expression melt into a smile, so taken was he by the Indian lad's stunning appearance. In a swoon, he meekly took the cash and handed over some change without subjecting the handsome newcomer to the briefing about the strict dress code that he usually gave all-comers.

I followed a pace behind Ram with my head bowed and my eyes to the floor, as we passed through the empty foyer and he entered the club for the first time. With the exception of a bearded guy dressed in tight fitting rubber who stood chatting to the barman and a skinny youth dressed in leather shorts, vest and boots and little else, standing dolefully by the side wall nursing a drink, the place was deserted.

"Get me a Corona and something for yourself," Ram demanded, taking another note from my wallet and handing it over to me, "I'm going for a nosey around... Oh and you can carry this, slave boy!" he added with a grin, draping the leather rucksack over my shoulder.

After staring up in disbelief at the multiple pairs of dust-covered leather boots hanging down from the ceiling in the area surrounding the bar, my escort left me and disappeared into the gloom of the club's black-walled interior. After a minute or two, the barman tore himself away from his conversation and took my order. When I heard a door creak open as I waited, I turned around to see Ram disappear through the rear exit to check out the outdoor smoking area.

Backstreet is small compared with most gay clubs, as although disco music is played in the background, there is no dance floor. There is an area surrounding the bar with high stools and a couple of TV screens showing porn movies plus a single large cruising area. This is skirted with stepped staging for guys to perch on, divided up by a few low brick walls to create some secluded alcoves, with black-painted oils barrels scattered around to put your drinks on. In addition to the boots decorating the ceiling, there were Tom of Finland posters adorning the walls, and a one-person-sized barred metal cage the size of an old telephone box, which in the entirety of my visits I had never seen in use! The toilets, which we had walked past when we entered, were located in the foyer beside the cloakroom.

I handed over the note Ram had given me and waited for the change. When after a few minutes the lad failed to reappear, I thought maybe he was having a smoke to calm his nerves so decided to take his beer out to him. But just as I was approaching it, the rear door opened and he emerged.

Upon spotting me, he took the drink from my hand, and after talking a large swig from it, led me to a secluded corner of the deserted cruising area. There, he set it down on a nearby oil drum, took the rucksack back from me and opened it up. From inside it, he pulled out a studded leather dog collar, a cock ring to match, a black jockstrap and nothing else!

"I'm off for a smoke," he announced, after placing all three items in my palm, "By the time I get back, I want you stripped down to your boots and wearing these with the rest of your duds inside the bag. Understand?" "Yes Sir!" I blurted out automatically, but afterwards found myself nervously glancing around to see if anyone had overheard.

"You asked for this - so don't you dare let me down now!" Ram warned before making his exit through the back door with his beer, leaving me to carry out his commands alone.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Although I'd dreamt of Ram humiliating me in public since I'd first met him, when it finally came to the crunch, as on the previous occasions when he had obliged me by fulfilling my submissive fantasies, I began to get cold feet. What if someone I knew happened to visit the club that night? I glanced toward the bar; still just the two customers besides ourselves, so it seemed, at least currently, that the risk of that happening was slight!

Nevertheless, I swear my hands began trembling as I slid my leather waistcoat off over my shoulders, folded it in four and pushed it to the bottom of the bag. My leather jeans would present more of a challenge to remove as they were tight fitting and required that I first take off my boots. So, I knelt behind the waist-high oil drum and slackened my laces to prise them off first. Anxious as ever to please Ram by obeying his instructions to the letter, I removed my socks and tossed them into the rucksack too.

When I stood back up and glanced around, no one appeared to have noticed what I was doing, so I quickly unfastened my belt, popped open my fly and slowly eased my pants down over my thighs. They were so tight that I lost my balance and ended up hopping around in my shirt-tails before finally succeeding in dragging them off. After regaining my composure, I folded them up neatly, squeezed them into what little space was left in the bag, then hastily slid my bare feet back inside my boots.

With my shaved crotch and bare ass still hidden beneath my shirt tails, I picked up the cock strap and turned to face the wall while I attempted to fasten it around my cock and balls. After closing its clasp shut in the darkness, I hurriedly slid my booted feet through the leg-holes of the jockstrap and hitched it up over my fast-growing cock.

Hearing the entrance doors swing open, I turned around, looked nervously towards the bar and witnessed a leather-clad couple enter. Thankfully they headed off to buy themselves a drink without giving the back of the room so much as a glance. However, I noted that the skinny guy in the leather shorts had realised that I was up to something and had relocated himself halfway down the side wall to obtain a better view.

Even amidst the gloom, I could spot a contemptuous leer appear on his face, when he clocked that I had taken off my leather pants and was now busy unfastening the buttons of my shirt. Refusing to be intimidated, I turned my back on him and steeled myself to reveal my aging body to the world reckoning it shouldn't look too bad in the dim light of the club, especially given I had dieted and worked out especially hard that week in preparation for the big occasion.

I took a deep breath, realising I could delay no further if I were to be ready for Ram's return, but crouched down in the shadow of the oil drum, before sliding my shirt off over my shoulders and cramming it into the, now bulging, bag. Whilst still hidden, I wrapped the dog collar around my neck and buckled it in place, acutely aware that, along with my nudity, it would broadcast to everyone present the submissive desires I had kept hidden for so long.

Chapter Twenty-Six

By the time the rear door opened and my master emerged, I was standing sipping my drink as nonchalantly as any guy can, whilst dressed solely in a dog collar, jockstrap and boots and devoid of every scrap of his body hair, with the crammed leather rucksack nestled between my feet.

"Wow!" he observed, "You're looking good! It must be all those work-out tips I gave you! Turn around so I can check out your ass!"

"Very nice!" he commended, after briefly examining the two red circles I had imprinted on my backside prior to setting off, in line with his instructions.

"Now go hand the bag in at the coat-check!" he demanded with a grin, after deeming the degree of redness of my buttocks satisfactory.

"I'll need a pound coin, sir." I responded, knowing this would be required and that my pockets were not merely empty but non-existent!

"You can also buy me another drink on your way back," Ram added, taking another note from my wallet, locating a 1 coin in his jeans, and stuffing both down the front of my jock as though I were a lap dancer. "I'm off outside!" he grinned, sending me on my way by landing a slap of his own on my blushed behind.

While Ram disappeared through the rear door a second time to calm his nerves with the aid of nicotine, I took a deep breath and walked straight ahead, determined to ignore my unwanted admirer, only for the coin to escape the pouch of the jock as I passed by him and roll in his direction.

"Here you go, buddy!" he said with a snigger picking it up from the floor, but instead of handing it to me, he yanked open the waistband of my jock at the front and threw it back inside, whilst at the same time peering in to check out the size of my dick.

"Love the outfit!" he added, awarding me a slap on my arse as I turned away from him to resume my errands, in the same way he had witnessed Ram do moments before!

"Thanks," I croaked between clenched teeth, hurrying off to the coat-check to use the coin he had so graciously retrieved for me to ensure I would remain in my current state of undress for the rest of the evening or until my Indian master decreed otherwise.

To my dismay, when I opened the exit door, I discovered the club's foyer was now filled with half a dozen guys queuing up to be admitted. Trying hard to give the impression that I considered my skimpy outfit to be nothing out of the ordinary, I took my place at the end of the line, where a chill breeze blew in from outside every time the door was opened.

As I approached the head of the queue, two more men lined up behind me. After seeing my reddened ass lit up by the entrance's neon lighting, the couple goaded each other to award it a slap! As this was something Ram had clearly intended, I suffered their ridicule, and half a dozen blows, in stoic silence, but could not prevent my face from flushing red from embarrassment when every other guy in the foyer turned their eyes toward me to check where the noise was coming from.

Clasping the cloakroom ticket firmly between my fingers, as though it was the winning ticket for a lottery, I ignored the smirk the landlord gave me and hurried back to the warmth of the bar, but again had to wait to be served. The delay permitted the same two guys to catch me up and sandwich me between them so they could resume slapping my ass. To add insult to injury, as I vainly attempted to fend one of them off, the other jumped the queue and got served ahead of me!

By the time I got back to my former position at the back of the darkroom with his drink in my hand, Ram was already waiting for me with a grin on his face, having plainly witnessed what had occurred at the bar. On the way, I also noted the skinny guy had sidled even further down the side wall, in the hope of obtaining more free entertainment at my expense.

"Give me the ticket to look after!" Ram demanded, swiftly draining his glass of the last of his beer and setting it down on the oil drum beside us.

After placing the full glass down beside the empty one, I meekly handed over both the ticket and my change to him, which he stashed away in his jeans pocket with a grin.

"I see you found yourself some admirers at the bar!" he commented, picking up his new drink and casually using some of the condensation that had formed on the glass to moisten the tips of my nipples with his icy fingers, knowing that it would excite me.

"So, when does the fun start?" he asked, as he witnessed my cock instantly pulse upward.

"That's up to you sir!" I gasped, turned on as much by the humiliation of him doing this to me in public as by the pleasure it gave me.

"The guy over by the wall seems to fancy you, want me to have him join in with us?"

"Dressed like that, I think he's a sub, sir! But it's entirely up to you!"

"I don't fancy him much either!" Ram conceded and turned his attention elsewhere.

"It's still a bit early yet sir." I apologised weakly.

"In that case I vote we kick off the night in the smoking area, so I can have another fag while you suck my dick!"

"Here take this, slave boy!" he added mockingly, handing me the drink to carry for him before adding wryly, "No point keeping a dog and barking yourself!"

He then caught me by surprise by extracting from his jacket-pocket the dog leash that had been included amongst my collection of leather gear and attaching it to my collar and to our watching fan's amusement, used it to lead me out of the darkroom.

As the door sprang shut behind us, Ram led me along a dingy corridor and through an outer door into the space where he clearly felt most at home, which, apart from the two of us, was completely deserted. As a non-smoker, I had not visited this part of the club's facilities before, so after I entered, had a good look round and realised I had been missing out on a treat.

A small, high-walled, courtyard, open to the skies, was filled with benches and tables as in a pub beer garden. Shielded candles, placed atop them, filled the yard with a flattering light, while a single flickering fluorescent one illuminated the entrance. There a long, padded bench was affixed to club's outer wall, sheltered from the elements by a 6-foot-wide canopy above it.

It immediately struck me that not only did the place provide an ideal place for the club's nicotine addicts to get their fix without endangering the health of other customers, but would also appeal strongly to the aficionados of outdoor sex, amongst whom I included myself. I kicked myself that I'd not had sufficient curiosity to explore out here on my previous visits!

Despite it being September, it was comfortably warm outside, even for someone wearing nothing but boots and a jockstrap, with just a gentle breeze penetrating the perimeter just sufficient to firm-up my wetted nipples the moment I stepped out of the door!

While Ram made himself comfortable in the centre of the padded bench, I deposited his drink on a low table beside it and then looked to him for guidance on what to do next.

"Dogs don't wear jock straps!" he commented wryly, whilst playfully spinning the leash around on its fastening and looking up at me expectantly.

Although it took a second or two for me to grasp his meaning, I eventually divined I was expected to remove my only remaining garment. So, I gave the beer garden a second look around to reassure myself no one was currently around to watch, then slid it off over my boots and meekly handed it over to my master. "Nor boots neither!" he added with a mischievous grin, after slipping the jock into his jacket pocket and taking out his cigarettes and lighter.

Quicker to take the hint this time round, I swallowed hard and knelt down to remove my boots for the second time that night and stepped barefoot onto the cold paving. It looked like my long-held fantasy of being stripped completely naked in a leather bar while everyone else was clothed was finally about to be fulfilled! Although I wasn't quite totally naked, I figured the collar and cock-strap wrapped tightly around my cock and balls didn't count.

No sooner had I straightened up after depositing my boots at Ram's feet, than my master delivered his next, even more humiliating, command.

"Now get yourself hard!" he demanded, sliding a cigarette between his lips and proceeded to light it up. That was an easy one to obey, as my cock had been stiffening rapidly of its own accord ever since the lad had wetted my tits. So, after a few just a yanks with my fist, it was pointing skywards.

"When you get close to cumming, put your hands on your head!" Ram demanded, as he contentedly exhaled his smoke in my direction.

I had just placed my hands on top of my head, when the door to the club opened inwards and the pair who had slapped my ass at the bar entered the smoking area, followed almost immediately by the skinny guy who had retrieved my pound coin from the floor. The threesome paused in the entrance to take stock of what was going on.

Ignoring their presence, Ram coolly blew out a cloud of smoke and took another sip of his drink. Whilst I lowered my gaze to the ground but remained standing there, publicly displaying my submission to the handsome Indian at the other end of my leash with my heart beating madly.

It was my fantasy come true. There I was exhibiting myself, not just devoid of my clothes but shorn of my body hair, my face flushed with sexual excitement, my cock fully erect and my ass reddened from being spanked not just by myself, but by every one of the guys now surrounding me! But it was not just my body that was exposed but also my submissive sexual desires, confirmed not just by my beaten ass but by the strap encircling my genitals, the collar wrapped around my neck and by the handsome leather-clad Indian lad holding the other end of my leash.

However, Ram's next move was designed to make this even more explicit to the new arrivals who by now had positioned themselves in a ring encircling me and were watching proceedings with big grins on their faces. "Down on yer knees and kiss my boots!" he demanded.

Thrilled, I took my hands from my head and used them to steady myself as I placed one knee and then the other on the concrete paving, then bent down with my ass up in the air and brushed the tops of his boots with my lips. Plainly excited by having other's witness his domination of me, once I had covered his boots with a welter of grateful kisses, the lad used the leash to yank my head up from the floor and then rubbed my face into the crotch of his pants, where the profile of his erect dick was already visible.

"Get on with it!" he added, prompting me to unbuckle his belt and open up his flies to gain more direct access to his manhood. He had opted not to wear underwear, so once this was done, I was immediately able to tug his silken shaft from the front of his pants and slide it into my mouth, to provide him with the pleasure he was seeking.

With my knees on the cold, beer-stained, ground I inhaled his testosterone infused scent as it blended seductively with that of tobacco smoke and black leather and, after noticing the head of his shaft was already oozing pre-cum, licked it clean with my tongue. Then I wrapped my lips tightly around it and proudly displayed the deep-throat cock-sucking skills I had acquired as a result of my master's training to impress the growing circle of onlookers.

Although none of the first arrivals had lit up cigarettes, they were soon joined by a second wave of spectators, who had plainly come outside to satisfy their cravings rather than check out the action, as the smell of both cigarette and cigar smoke soon became more noticeable.

After pausing to take a break from my sucking, I took a quick look round and discovered that although many guys' eyes were focussed on me, others were far more interested in using the opportunity to catch a glimpse of my leather-clad Indian master's glistening dick. I also noticed, visible above the circle of mainly white faces surrounding us, a bearded brown face appear and break into a knowing smile.

To be continued...

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