THE DIARY OF WILLIAM ROBINSON- PART 5
DAY 385
Don ordered me to attention- I stood facing him- with my legs apart and my hands by my sides. He walked round me; then returned to my back where he began the inspection. I could feel warm breath spread over neck flesh as he moved closer. Then after pressing his crotch into my rear, his warm hands came round to touch my face.
Don moved his hands very slowly letting fingers trail over my facial features. He ignored my nose {other than giving it a sort of friendly squeeze} before letting his fingernails trail over my freckled cheeks; then, both sets of fingers reached my mouth. Instinctively, I parted my lips and Don's fingers sought the wetness of my mouth. As I strove to suck a middle finger, he removed one hand and using his free arm pulled me further into him making my back arch. If Don had been inspecting my crotch, he would have noticed that his action had made my dick fully erect under the two layers of fabric. He left his middle finger in my mouth and, automatically, I wrapped my dry lips around it and feverishly sucked. I wondered if Don was surprised by William Robinson being acquainted with such an action; but, he kept on thrusting the finger, in and out, as I sucked. If he wanted to ask questions about my skill in this, then one of the uses made, of me, by the cadets (and others!) at Jupiter training camp would need to be revealed.
Don brought his left arm up my body by trailing it over the tight silver suit and onto bare flesh before cupping my chin to steady the sucking action- then slowly he pulled out the thick finger to leave me licking wet lips; then, he wiped the mouth juices on my left cheek and placed both hands on my shoulder before pulling away from my rear.
I was just reverting to normal breathing when his long fingers began, gently, to massage my shoulders; then the speed increased-making me murmur in pleasure. He raised the tempo further by working upwards, gnarling large handholds of flesh on my neck- leaving my head in a spin -- then, finally, with one hand stroking the soft flesh under my chin, he spent five minutes rummaging through my fair hair, until, however invigorating his touch had become, it left my locks (?) wayward but moving in the gentle breeze.
My back received attention from his hands --firstly by running them from under my armpits down to my waist; then, secondly, by kneading the upper back muscles before pressing down on the hidden bone and lastly, by giving a frenzied knuckle rub on the yet to be (well) developed lower muscles. I was concerned that he might tickle me but I had the impression that this was definitely not a teasing session but the definitive intimate inspection of William Robinson. However, both of us knew which feature of William Robinson this workover would finally focus on. Don worked his hands no lower than my belt, above which the shiny material of my suit clung like a second skin- offering little hindrance to his inspection. Other than me murmuring, noise was minimal, but then Don ordered me to bend forward, grip my ankles with my hands {if I could; although I was told only to remain in that position if I could keep my whole body steady. I knew I could accomplish the ankle hold quite easily- having a supple body (it's the age)- so whilst I steadied myself in the required position, Don picked up the stool, carried it round my back, placed it on the ground ,sat, and finally rested the flat of this hands on my cheeks.
Being bent over in this somewhat unusual position, the silver suit was able to stretch- thankfully elasticity was one of the fabric's features, for it had not been the case, I guessed my whities would have been in view. It was quite a crush down below- my dick hadn't been anything but rock hard for ages- and although previously Don had been able to see it outlined, it was now uncomfortably hidden under my briefs. It ached, from throbbing mostly, but I wasn't near to climax- however, I did wonder if Don's long dick was coping.
Don fingered the outline of my whities-firstly, by tracing the leg openings --then, secondly, he moved to the waistband, which having slipped, slightly, left the upper part of my crack under just one layer of fabric. He lingered on this groove - fingering up and down-before, finally, he caressed my cheeks with the palms of his hands. On these round mounds, he made no attempt to vary the tempo- perhaps, this was due to the probability of my falling forward- but the pleasure he created was intense-even more than the joy from the neck rub. Next, he ordered me to widen my legs -I was able to accomplish this to a degree- but it allowed him to trail fingers from the top of my whities down into the space between my separated cheeks where one finger stopped over my hole. Now that my cheeks were well separated, with my old silver suit clinging along the crack and also under my legs, the thin materials that had given Don easy access to my cheeks were so bunched under my legs( my whities were there to) that distinguishing flesh from fabric was proving difficult. This did not, however, prevent him poking, with a long finger, the fabric; reaching his target on several occasions. I thought he might delve further under my legs but the probability of not reaching my dick caused attention to focus elsewhere- in fact, his attention turned to my legs. Don was able to find muscle both above and below my knees -- largely cos with swimming and running they are well developed (well- ok- getting developed!) - he"massaged" in the rough manner, with plenty of kneading, which I really am learning to love. When finished, he looked down to my feet but as I was wearing boots he couldn't get to the flesh-well, not until he ordered me to stand and remove my footwear.
Don turned and gave me the stool- so I sat and worked to remove my boots, I could see that the patch of pre-cum staining his shorts had increased in size with now juice trickling in lines from his hidden dickhead. I was fully erect and being honest my boner seemed harder than I could ever remember; then, when I was barefoot, and once more standing to attention, Don focused on the outline of my boner. Eventually, he moved to face me again and whilst looking me in the eyes-raised his hands to my shoulders; I pressed into him-he made no facial gesture but then he did not push me away.
With me (at least) still being warmed by his close touch, Don raised a hand to my head to ruffle my hair, - (he seems to have a fetish over this!)- Before he placed a finger on my lower lip. I immediately sucked... Once, he removed his finger, he lowered his head in order to force our lips together- I knew how to respond from my time at Jupiter Base but because I appeared hesitant, he pressed further and I had little option but to happily enjoy. The pressing was more than fleeting and the touch electric-(why do military guys taste so good?).
Don stepped back and stared, with that quizzical look, and, once again, I knew I'd yet another explanation to give him. I just attempted a vacant stare but I knew by the curl of his lips and the raising of his eyebrows that I'd have to eventually, tell all.
He settled his mind, returned his hands to my shoulders- before trailing them downwards -- initially over bare soft flesh, then onto silky stretched material- I knew what he searched for and although he did caress my entire chest, his fingertips eventually settled on my nipples. The little nips made only a small impression through the silver material whilst my tender pink rings remained hidden. He circled, with a sharp fingernail, to locate, by pressing, each ring with an aim to squeeze them but it had little effect through the fabric. He could see I was unmoved so he gripped each nip between two fingers-then pulled and twisted. Immediately, I felt pleasurable pain radiate across my chest from each nipple and, as a consequence, my dick throbbed but it did not twitch and jerk as it happens normally- as it was still held firm in my whities. As Don pondered his next move, I was considering the prospect of having to be inspected a second time after I'd been stripped- I decided that the idea appealed. (Well wouldn't it you).
Don resisted the temptation to slip long fingers under the fabric to reach my nips (in the flesh) instead his hands travelled down my flat stomach to poke at my navel. I prayed he'd not make me giggle by tickling my stomach and, as if reading my mind, he moved his hands across my body to massage my sides. I looked down --Don was concentrating as he worked, but his eyes were clearly focused on my dick. I had expected him to seize the opportunity to handle me there, as I believed he was nearing the end of his inspection; however, unexpectedly, he moved away from me, to sit on the stool .He ordered me forward and lie on the ground- on my back, facing him- once I had settled, he reached and pulled my feet towards until they rested on his lap. I was certain, this time, that he'd try tickling my soles but he'd have had little luck, as my stomach is the only place to get success in that way. He examined the toes and then my feet by stretching each one in different directions before, he reached upwards to pummel the leg muscle between my ankles and the leg cuffs of my suit. These have all been unusual hand massages from Don - but, his hands touching any area of my body would always be acceptable - however, I can think of specific areas that I'd really like to receive regular attention. When he had finished, Don ordered me up and stand to his left, whilst he remained seated; next, I was lowered across his lap, facing skywards,- he supported me as I moved so that my rear ended snug in his lap. I was facing upwards in a kind of crab position with my head low to his right -- but in order to create balance, he raised his left leg over both my legs to add support to my position. Don let me settle in this unusual position- but I was fully aware that as he looked down, my hard dick would have been in his direct line of sight.
It took Don a few more moments to make a move. I did not know how he intended to work on me now but his first touches gave me an idea. He reached to loosen my belt and, once unbuckled, he slid it from under me. I heard it clink as it hit the ground. There was minimal release to my body suit and the silver material remained clinging.
I felt fingers on my body as Don prodded my taut stomach- then he poked one finger into my navel (a deep innie -- as it happens) - twisting it sharply in the pit before removal.
He massaged my stomach using the palm of one hand, steadying the movements by resting his other hand on the top of my thighs; a mere fingernail from my nuts. My stomach (I can tell you) is quite taut from swimming so it can withstand a hard massage but I do fall apart if I am tickled; fortunately, Don was not ready (yet) to torment me. However, the throbbing of my dick had increased so much that I was desperate to climax but somehow I just couldn't.
Don trailed a finger from my navel, over the shiny suit, downwards searching for the waistband of my whities. This old, thin, pair were really tight fitting, ensuring a considerable downwards pull, so that the worn waistband rested just above my dick-in fact, my boner was trapped between the waistband and the leg openings. Having reached this goal, Don placed the flat of his hand over the waistband -- the fingers were stretched to cover my hidden nuts. He pressed these areas whilst his other hand massaged my thighs. The pinching of my thigh flesh stimulated my body further--my dick would definitely have climaxed if Don had not somehow managed to force my nuts downwards with his other hand. When he had finished, he raised both hands and I felt my nuts move back but the notion of climaxing had retreated. Now all that was left for Don to inspect were the parts beneath my whities.
Don traced the line between cotton and flesh across my stomach --the waistband dipped low but he kept on course-then he followed this movement by slowly tracing a similar path around each leg opening, He stopped when he reached the area between my legs- then he raised and lay his right palm where he imagined the front panel of my briefs to be. This opening had scrunched up and although there was a noticeable mound it was mainly fabric rather than any bulk from my nuts and its sac. In fact, my nuts are not that big-(well- at my age what do you expect? - plus my sac doesn't hang low at all) --but I've been told that in time that they will be perfect! Next, Don slid his palm over my bulge to locate my nuts then squeezed the fabric to grip them; his fingers, somehow, grabbed them and once again I felt my sac lowered-my dick responded by twitching and then he placed my nuts in a vice-like grip before he pulled them even further which made me wince. The, as I was starting to feel real pain he released them and I let out a whoosh of air as relief.
I knew he would leave the inspection of my dick until last (I would have done the same) -- and, firstly he placed a finger on each side of the shaft, near its base. He pressed in slightly then moving upwards caressing the outline right to the tip. I am more than happy with my length of my dick -- (I've had kind comments galore) - but I do wish it was thicker-but that'll come {It'd better!}. At that moment, its size was clearly outlined under the suit but I guessed Don had plans for it to be exposed on a regular basis (and for long periods!!!). He kept fingering its length and this action restarted my desire to climax. I hoped that by now he had had sufficient time to realise my dick might offer him but I was willing him to stop as I didn't want it to shrink. Eventually, he did stop, but not before I was squirming for I felt (not for the first time) that wonderful feeling develop at the base of my dick.
He raised his hands then placed one finger on my foreskin -pressing to keep it in place. Don had asked weeks before if I was cut-and he was surprised to find that I wasn't. He told me that he'd been cut when he was eight, due to his skin not being able to peel back easily but I said that I'd asked dad to make sure I kept mine, cos when I was at Jupiter training base a navy doctor had wanted it removed-largely in case of infection during the journey; but with dad's backing and my resolution to clean it out each day-I had won the argument-and very happy with that outcome I am to this day.
Don attempted to grip the skin but it was constrained under the silver and his attempt to push it back over my dickhead also failed but I had no doubts attention to this portion of extra skin would be accomplished after I'd been stripped. After a last stroke of my hard dick, he ordered me to stand and faced him once more. Turning, then, pointing, Don indicated a flat area of protruding bare rock, a short distance to the left of the tent, on which, he ordered me to go and stand.
From this ledge I watched Don carry my boots and belt and place them on the buggy's bonnet. From my present position, I had a panoramic view of our surroundings and finally I realised that Don had chosen this place to strip me- as I would be clearly visible from all directions-although I doubted (and hoped) that only Don would get a good look at me. This deduction was confirmed, for when Don arrived, I was told that I was gonna be stripped naked.
I was now dressed in only suit and whities and being stripped really did appeal, as much for, Don's touch on my body and a genuine desire to rid myself of these restricting garments, as with the pleasure of facing him naked (with a boner!}. Don lowered my zipper leaving the garment open to my crotch. Immediately, cool air rushed over my front as the suit, having been real tight, parted wide, exposing chest and flat stomach. My nips perked up and I could sense their increasing hardness. Don placed a hand on my left nip and twisted the nub- sending pleasure pain through my upper body. He repeated the action with the right nip before letting his hand meander very slowly towards my crotch, only stopping briefly at my innie to scour it with a fingernail. The zipper exposed only a portion of the worn waistband as the thin fabric hung low, so Don decided to raise my briefs- he gripped the frayed cotton band; but unfortunately his attempt to yank the whities upwards failed. Unconcerned at this, he just ordered me to turn. I had had particular difficulty putting on this suit (well- what do you expect if it was the one I wore when we set out from Earth)) but it was clear that he had no intention of letting it (or my whities) stand in his way --even, I believed, if it meant fabric being torn.
After grasping my neckline, Don yanked the suit downwards- and my shoulders felt cool air- then whilst he continued, I heard the material tear; eventually shards of silver appeared, dangling at each of my sides and then shreds of silver trailed down from my arms. Next, he pulled away all the sleeve material, leaving my arms bare, and with my upper body fabric hanging only in fragments from my waist, I did wonder at this point if William Robinson was expected to return to Jupiter in just whities or even (embarrassingly) naked.
Don returned to my front; then, he crouched to ensure he was at eyelevel with my crotch. Placing both hands on the waistband of the suit, he forced fingers down and under the garment. Then, gripping tightly, and in one sudden movement, he yanked -- with so much force, in fact, that I lurched forward, but I was able to steady myself by grabbing his shoulders. The result of his might was that my silver suit was now in shreds and around my ankles. I stepped from the remains and after Don had discarded them, I was left in just whities.
As Don had insisted I wear an old, thin (and worn) pair, my whities could not cover all the areas for which they were designed --but, for now, my dick was still hidden (although he had hardly ignored its outline). Don circled me looking at the garment but made no readjustments; instead, he fingered my exposed crack - the briefs were half way down my cheeks! -- Then, as he delved deeper under the fabric, I, hopefully to his appreciation, parted my legs allowing him to reach his goal. Eventually, he returned to the front of my near naked body, kneeling, once more, and leaving his eyes, once again, in line with my crotch. I gazed down to see him focusing on my dick, which by now had been boning for what seemed like forever; (I had always found ways to deal with boners before).
Don gripped the sides of my whities-I knew they would come down easily and although the leg openings had chafed my thighs, the discomfort encountered had been bearable considering what was about to happen. Swiftly, Don yanked down my briefs leaving them at my knees. As I viewed my loss looking down at Don, I knew he had been staring, watching, closely, my dick's exposure- he saw it initially swing sidewards, then with a bouncing motion it moved up and down until stopping with the head staring Don in the face. My foreskin drooped a few inches from his lips. His eyes never wandered from the small covered head, as he ordered me to lose the whities- so, as I wriggled my legs, the briefs fell to my ankles and I kicked them to one side.
Don reached with his left hand and cupped my small sac, then squeezing the sensitive flesh, he pulled the hairless bag downwards forcing my dick up- this was, for me, abnormal as when I bone my dick always sticks out at right angles from my body. Next, Don moved his other hand to my sac which, having been returned to its normal position, allowed each of my nuts to be massaged - as I said before, they aren't the biggest but he gave them a hell of a working-pulling, squeezing, separating, scratching and crushing- all to keep my dick bobbing?
Satisfied with inspecting my nuts, he turned his attention to my dick. When Don had been massaging me, I'd usually looking straight ahead unfocused but enjoying the sensations running through my body-but now as he laid the length of my dick between his large hands I had to gaze down to watch the action.
Slowly, Don rubbed my shaft between his palms causing the soft skin to twist, then he stroked its full length with, at first, soft fingertips but then, secondly, sharp fingernails that grooved the flesh-then finally he gripped the rod extremely tightly so he could began a slow rhythmic jerking motion that culminated in one violent jerk before I was released. Next, his attention turned to my foreskin. The loose flesh at the end of my dick is, I think, quite long (relatively) but truthfully I've never measured it nor seen that many guys with a foreskin (well not real close up!) --however, I know when it loses its normal skin cover my dickhead is ultra sensitive to the touch.
Don laid my loose foreskin across his palm and then, using the fingers of his other hand gripped tightly the pale flesh and, without warning, the skin was pulled forward; Don insisted that I stand firm as he wanted to see how far the flesh would stretch. It was definitely painful but he did stretch it further than I thought possible. Once released, I noticed that it was a deep red colour as I watched slide slowly back to its original position.
He then linked fingers, from both hands, around my shaft at a point an inch or so below my dickhead. Slowly, he pulled forcing the bright pink head to come into view -- it is a different colour from my pale shaft but I'd learned that from regular jerking and rubbing, it would turn a deep plum colour. It's like a little helmet once exposed and you get a good idea also of its shape when it creates a hump on my rod when it's unexposed. However, Don pulled the foreskin all the way down the shaft- and the pain was amazingly pleasurable with the skin turned inside out and clinging to the shaft. When he released me, the pain subsided, and slowly the ribbed skin started to slide back.
Released totally from Don, I let my mind wander to visualise the thing I desire most- that wet silky pre-cum which makes jerking much easier and I'm sure pleasurable (of course, I know I'll have loads later in life, but a little would be nice now!). Released from these nice thoughts I noticed Don watching my foreskin start to slide over my dickhead. Without warning, he thrust his mouth forward and held my head in his lips -- I felt his tongue lubricate the sensitive flesh, then he tickled the head slit with a curled tongue-- eventually, and, hopefully, reluctantly, he let go and the dry foreskin felt warmed as it slipped over the moist pink head.
Finally, and slowly, Don stood; then, after locking eyes with me for over a minute, told me what I already knew- that William Robinson was naked.