Sam felt like his twink days would be over soon. He was 27 -- 3 or 4 years older than any of his buddies -- and he had a REAL job that paid REAL money. He had applied for the job as Assistant to the Administrator of a law firm and was stunned when he got it. (He later found out that the senior partner who made the decisions, had a thing for young men, and he had made up his mind that Sam was going to be hired, unless he committed an enormous gaffe. Once he got the job, Sam applied himself, put in extra hours, came in on weekends, and soon the talk that "Mr. Griffith picked another boy toy" had stopped. Even his boss, "Ms S" as everyone called her (her real name was Linda Scott), who was married to the position of administrator, liked him. That was unusual because it was said, not without reason, that Ms S liked nobody but the horses she raised. She liked Sam: she liked how he worked, she liked his wit, and she liked how he could "read" what her "bosses", the partners, wanted, almost as well as she could. Of course, the fact that the head of the firm, Vern Griffith, had a thing for Sam and stopped complaining about whatever he was complaining about when Sam took care of something, endeared him to her. Sam's buddies all worked when they had to. While Sam had his own place -- he had rented a small house when he had saved enough money -- the buddies were always in some overcrowded, illegal sublet of some kind, making out schedules as to who could use the bathroom, the bedroom, etc. Sam liked living alone better. He would have liked it even more if occasionally he managed to bring someone home with him or get someone to take him home. He didn't have as much time to cruise or to surf the web as his buddies did, and when he did go out with them, what he found was that the guys who liked the young, blond, "twinkie" type always went for one of his friends. It was always a one-nighter. The next time he saw whoever had scored, he and his friends would hear a story along the lines of "tiniest pecker in the city" or "I thought I would get plowed until Mr. Big Stuff threw his legs in the air and began begging for a spanking." Sam didn't know how much of it to believe and what not to believe. What he COULD believe is that he was in serious need of being laid. Sam preferred slim, Latin guys, who came across as a little rough, maybe a bit dangerous. He bottomed. Exclusively. The bottoming part had gone very well with finding partners in the past, when he was as young as his friends, but now he was being passed over. And the nature of his city had changed: there didn't seem to be as many guys who were his preferred type anymore. He spent a lot of time wanking off to images on his laptop screen or in a magazine and telling himself to be patient. "Hey, I have an idea let's go tease some bears", one of his buddies, Nelson, suggested as they were getting ready to go out one night. "HUH? What does that mean?" Sam was confused. Nelson shook his head and rolled his eyes. "DUH. Let's go head for the leather bars. You KNOW they're filled with guys who'd love to take home a twink and split his buns in half. We'll tease, get them to buy drinks, and give away NOTHING." The other two guys that Nelson and Sam were with seemed to think this was a GREAT idea for having some fun. Sam wasn't sure but he allowed himself to get caught up in the spirit of the minute. Half of him was thinking "who knows? I may get lucky" and the other half was thinking "Hell YEAH. About time I got to turn someone down." They all had leather jackets, more for style than substance. None of them were all that interested in leather culture or BDSM or D/s, or anything like that. The plan was simply to head around, and cock tease. And it all seemed to be a lot of fun for the four of them. They hit three bars, and the older guys who were there were falling over them. One guy wanted to take the four of them home with him, another one offered them a weekend in the country with he and his husband, and they were all a little inebriated from the free drinks they had been consuming. It was getting late. Sam looked at his watch. He had to be at work at 9:30 the next morning, and it was getting close to 1 a.m. "ONE MORE BAR. Let's score a nightcap," Harry suggested. "The darkest, scariest bar we can find. We won't stay long." Sam knew where they were going: the bar may have had a name, but none of them knew it. Everyone knew it by the neon light on the marquee that was essentially an abstract penis penetrating an abstract butt. It was a weeknight, so it wouldn't be very crowded. They headed in. Of course, they turned heads: four young attractive guys, the oldest of whom was 27. "You boys legal?" the guy at the front asked. They had ID but Leon, the fourth guy suggested that maybe he could just cop a quick feel on all of them and let them in. "I'll cop the feel, but you show your ID. I'm not getting the place shut down by four high schoolers." The boys giggled hysterically as they pulled out their ID. "Not you. You're old enough. You can go in," Sam didn't know whether to feel flattered or insulted. "You want the quick feel?" He asked the guy. "I'll pass." He looked at the very blond Harry. "Maybe I'll comp you if this morsel sticks around." Harry grinned. "OOOH daddy. You want me to separate from my friends?" The guy growled back. "I want to be your BEST friend. Your CLOSEST friend. For tonight." That set the three young ones off, and they started singing "ONE NIGHT ONLY." Clearly, they had done this before. "ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT. Enough. Remember closing time. You all should be in bed anyway. Alone or with each other or something. Have fun, kids." They went in and began checking out the place. They might have been young, but they knew how to "read" a bar. "Take a look at THAT one," Leon whispered to them. There was a grey-haired guy with an uneven beard sitting at the bar, leather chaps, white t shirt, a leather jacket that was probably older than they were, combined, drinking a beer out of a can. "Now THAT's classic," Harry said. "Is that a nice way to say OLD?" Nelson asked, and they all laughed. They realized that the older guy was staring at them, and Sam thought he was staring directly at him. Then he saw the guy point to Sam and crook his finger in a "get over here" gesture." Sam laughed and gave him the finger. "We better get out of here. I think you pissed him off" Leon said. "Yeah, no bueno," was Harry's response. As they left, Sam couldn't help it: he looked back at the guy. He was smiling. And Sam was hard.
"That's the first time anyone showed interest in me in, oh geez, how long? "Sam was talking to one of his colleagues at the office. Ms. S wasn't in yet: she started at noon because she would stay late when the attorneys did. She felt obligated to be available if they needed something. "Sammy," his friend Alissa was one of the few people who got away with the nickname he had used in school "Since when are you into daddies?" "I'M NOT!" Sam's voice was high enough that one person stopped to check if everything was alright. Getting on Sam's good side was a way to get on Ms. S' good side and getting on Ms. S' good side was important to working at that firm. "I can't explain it. There was something, well, sexy about him. And masculine. HYPER masculine. I mean, I've given other daddies the finger, I've given LOTS of guys the finger. I've never gotten a smile for it before." He paused. "I think he probably has a huge dick." Alissa began to laugh. "How could you reach that conclusion?" Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Look, it's my fantasy and if I want him to have a big dick, he's got a big dick." "Well, in the fantasy are you sucking it, taking it up your butt, or just worshipping it?" she asked. "I haven't decided yet," was Sam's honest answer. What he didn't tell Alissa was that he had made up his mine to go and look for that daddy again. Sam and "his sisters" had a habit of going out together on Friday night, dancing or eating or both, and if someone "got lucky," he'd head off with whomever and they'd catch up again, usually at Sunday brunch. Leon had observed once that they were almost like the girls in the television series, and Sam was the serious one. "Yeah, but she was getting laid and I'm not" Sam would always lament. If he expected sympathy from his sisters, he never got it. Rather, he got an answer like "true that." So, while he felt a pang of regret at not spending Friday with his friends, he begged off, saying that there was a project at work and he and Ms. S would be there for a while. He knew that the likelihood of the "twink trio" going back to that leather bar was slim, and while he had no idea if the hairy daddy he had seen would be there, it was worth a try. "But what time? When will he get there IF he gets there?" Sam had convinced himself that he was only going to apologize to the guy for giving him the finger. He knew, of course, that he was popping wood, but he justified it because he hadn't jerked off the night before. He decided that 11p.m. would be a good time to find his mystery man. He worked until 8, headed home, and then put on an outfit that he knew would be sending mixed signals but, he really didn't know what signals to send: skintight jeans, his boots, a pink shirt untucked, and his leather jacket. "When was the last time I went out alone?" he thought. He realized it was at least six months before. "Getting old, Sammy," he told himself, called a car, and headed out. "Good timing," he said to himself when he walked in. The same guy was at the front. "Where are your little sisters, sweetie?" he asked Sam. "Oh, uh, they stayed back at the shoe" Sam tried to make a joke. The guy clapped back. "Yeah, they could all use a shoe in their ass, and that's all they're gonna get. Enjoy yourself." Sam looked around and at first, he was disappointed. He didn't see the guy from the other night. "SHIT" he was thinking, before he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. "If it isn't Mr. Smarty Pants. Welcome back." The guy took his hand off Sam's shoulder and Sam turned around. He was scared. Scared and aroused. "OH, Hi Sir. I was looking for you." "Well, you found me, pup. What's on your mind?" "I, uh, I wanted to apologize for giving you the finger the other night. I was, I was... " "Scared, little boy?" "Well, a little but, confused maybe." "Confused about what? Maybe I can elucidate. Let me start. Am I gay? Yes. Am I a top? Yes. Will I buy you a drink? No. Will I take you home and fuck you? Convince me why I should." Sam took a deep gulp and tried to answer. Before he could, he felt a rough finger under his chin, lifting his head up. Sam was short: about 5'5". This guy was at least six feet tall. "My name is Kurt. What's yours?" "It's Sam, Sir." Kurt looked at him and grinned "sammy. Sam is a name for a man. You're more of a boy." "I'm a man Sir" Now Kurt laughed. "You're a man. That's a good one. You give a guy the finger when you're with people, and you come back and apologize alone. And you're calling me Sir. Which is appropriate. "Sam felt his mouth drying out. "Tell the truth, sammy. Why did you come back? And let me tell you up front. I know why you did, and your answer is gonna determine the rest of your night." "Uh, I can't really explain it Sir but, I wanted you to like me." "Like me. Is that how you kids say you wanna get fucked?" "I'M NOT A KID SIR. I'M 27 YEARS OLD!" Kurt started laughing harder. "WOW 27 years old. These fucking boots are older than you, kid. You wanted me to like you. Let's assume I don't. What can you do to change my mind?" Sam began to sweat. "I give great head Sir." "That right, sammy? You give great head. Who told you that?" "My last boyfriend Sir." "How old was that twerp? Twenty-four?" Sam was reddening. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry I disturbed you Sir." "NAH. You played a hunch. I had a feeling: however dumb your friends are, you're not stupid. You also go after what you want. And you want... THIS." He grabbed Sam's left hand and put it on his crotch. Sam felt a very thick bulge through the jeans. Sam didn't know his mouth could get dryer, but it did. "Yes sir. I do. " Kurt cocked his head to the side. "You ARE pretty cute. Not so twinky as a lot of the gawkers who come in here. "Now he paused. "You understand what are roles will be if I take you back with me?" "I'm bottom, you're Top, Sir." Kurt folded his arms and said nothing. Sam was confused. Was HE supposed to Top? Kurt just stood there, not changing position. THEN it dawned on Sam. "I'm sorry Sir. I'm nervous. You're Top, I'm bottom." Kurt shook his head. "Seems you're gonna need a whole LOT of training if this goes for more than a quick fuck. You in it for more than a quick fuck, sammy?" "I don't know Sir." He saw Kurt smile. "First time tonight I thought you told the whole truth. Damn good answer! I feel the same way. You've got a skinny ass. Much skinnier than I like." "It's very tight Sir. And my glutes are strong." Kurt began to laugh. "DAMN you really ARE a horny bugger aren't you. I'm gonna give you one more chance to back out. Put your hand on my package and tell me: you ready to take what I got to give?" Sam touched Kurt's crotch. "Go ahead. Run your hands around it. Get an idea of the full fucking size of it." Back when he was 25, Sam had had sex with a guy whose nickname was `Anaconda', because his snake was long and thick. He doubted it was as big as Kurt's though. "I don't know Sir. I'll try. I'll do my best." "THAT'S NOT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH SAMMY. YOU TAKE IT ALL OR NOTHING." "Ok Sir. Yes, I'll take it all." "I'm gonna hold you to that, bitch boy. Here's the deal. You come home with me and when we're done, you leave. I don't want any trinkets lying around the apartment when I'm trying to clean and work. If I want you back, you get your ass over, you understand?" Sam felt the blood rushing to his cock and to his sphincter. "Yes Sir, I understand." "THIS WAY BOY. My car is out back." Kurt put his hand on the back of Sam's neck. He squeezed it a little. "You are one fucking cute studlet. I'm gonna have a REAL good time tonight and you may very well regret you ever walked into this bar." Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx It took about 20 minutes for Kurt to drive them to his house. While he drove, he kept one hand on the wheel and one on Sam's thigh. Sam thought about squeezing Kurt's hand, but then thought better of it. He had the sense that this daddy was not going to like that. "Pretty in pink, ha ha. Why'd you pick that color, boy? You think you had to advertise you're a bottom?" Sam blushed. "I just thought it looked good, Sir. Set off my eyes. Fits nice." "You're gonna get out of it as soon as we get into the house. No fucking foreplay tonight, boy. That gets saved for maybe later." Kurt's house looked and moreso, SMELLED like a Top Daddy's house. It smelled to Sam like the gym did, only without the bad smells. It was almost like pure testosterone. It was heady. "Get out of your twink clothes, boy. Let me take a look at what you got." Sam was struggling to get out of everything: his jacket, his shirt, and then his pants. He forgot he hadn't taken off his boots and fell forward. Kurt caught him, and his hand brushed Sam's nip. "Easy boy, EASY. I ain't EVER seen even the most experienced Master get his pants off without taking his boots off. " "Yes Sir. That was stupid." A pause. "Is it okay if I sit on a chair Sir?" "Oh yeah, let's see what chair best suits you because if you come back, you're gonna be in a chair a lot. Tied mostly." Sam felt another shot of excitement go to his dick. He hadn't been tied up in a long time. He wanted to assume that Kurt was into bondage, but he didn't know. Sam got his boots off, and then slipped out of the jeans. Kurt began laughing. "JESUS CHRIST. A fucking ROSE on your jock? Who are you trying to impress boy? "Kurt began thinking "if he works out, black ones. Freakin kid doesn't know what the hell he's doing. "Well, if anyone had any questions about whether or not you were a Top, once they saw that pencil dick, they'd know you're not topping ANYONE. "Sam blushed. Occasionally when no one scored, he and his buddies would play with each other. None of them ever wanted Sam to top, although he had taken all three of their cocks at different times. "I'm totally a bottom Sir. Never been anything else," Sam whispered almost apologetically. "GOOD. Then you'll be perfectly at home here. Let's get down to business." He pointed to his bedroom. "Face up. I think a man has the right to see who he's fucking, and the boy should see if he's pleasing his man." The bed looked a lot softer than it was. Any doubts about whether or not he was going to be tied up flew out of Sam's mind when Kurt grabbed his right wrist and slipped it through a loop at the side of the bed. He pulled it tight. "OW" came out of Sam's mouth and that got him a slap on the balls. "You complaining already, wimp? How you gonna take my cock if a fucking rope bothers you?" "Sorry Sir. It's just been a while." "Hmm. "He tied Sam's left wrist, and Sam could have sworn he was gentler. "Now, THIS is how a man undresses boy." Kurt smiled and began peeling off his clothes, slowly. Every time he took a piece off, he ran a gloved hand over Sam's body. Sam just shivered at each touch. When Kurt began handling his balls, Sam began moaning. "Here's what you're getting fuck boy." Kurt had taken off his chaps and jeans, and Sam saw a cock that he thought was close to as thick as it was long. "Some people call it my cock can cock. Kinda funny. You probably drink diet." Now, Kurt began running his hands over Sam's body. Both gloved paws took their time, stopping when Sam moaned, or when he shivered because Kurt had found a ticklish spot. "Sorta like marking a trail boy. I never forget a marker. Just keep that in mind." He stopped to grab a bottle of lube. "I prefer not to use this, but I don't think you're ready to take me dry, boy. So, for now, let's lube things up." Kurt pulled off his gloves and took a wad of lube in his palm. He rubbed it around a finger and then a second one then a third one. He was surprisingly gentle as he pushed the first finger into Sam. "OH FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD." Kurt smiled. "Been a dry spell for sammy if a finger feels good." "It has been, Sir. OHHHHHHHHHHHH." Kurt has slipped in the second finger, and he began moving them around. "WHY HAS NO ONE EVER DONE THIS TO ME?" screamed Sam's brain. When the third finger went in, he held his breath. He held his breath so long, he thought he'd pass out. Two of Kurt's fingers found his prostate and began playing with it. "OH SHIT SIR. OH SHIT" "Just marking territory. My cock is gonna wreck that ass, starting with this boy's G spot." He pushed Sam's legs up in the air, and Sam felt Kurt's cockhead brush his hole. He tried to brace himself. Even the slight touch confirmed what he thought: this was the biggest cock he had ever taken in his life. "Nice and easy boy. NICE and easy. I bet even your twink glutes can't squeeze Cockzilla." "Cockzilla," Sam thought. "That's a good conversation piece. I got fucked by Cockzilla on Friday." More of Kurt's cock went inside of Sam, and he winced. DAMN IT HE WAS GONNA TAKE THIS WHOLE COCK." "How's it going, boy?" Kurt asked with a touch of tenderness. Sam opened his eyes and he thought he saw real concern in Kurt's face. "I'm fine Sir. Can I say More please?" "Yeah, you can. Cause you're gonna get more. LOTS MORE." "HOLY FUCKING SHIT SIR. YOU'RE SO BIG." Sam felt the base of Kurt's cock bump against his ass, while his innards were screaming in pain. Later he'd tell people his anus was yelling "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO ME?" Sam had used big dildos on himself, but the difference between Kurt's cock and a dildo, was unbelievable. So was the way Kurt fucked. He stood nearly straight up and held his cock in Sam's ass. His hands reached up to the boy's nipples and squeezed them roughly. "There's the spot there. RIGHT THERE." Sam felt the gentle rubbing against his prostate. He tried to twist but the combination of the wrist restraints and the cock that was impaling him made that difficult. When he DID manage to twist a little, he heard a short moan of pleasure come out of Kurt. He wanted to please this man, so Sam twisted little by little in both directions, until Kurt closed his eyes and huffed out. "Right there boy. Don't move from that position. You got MY sweet spot, I got yours. OH YEAH. I don't think you have EVER had the flood in your ass you're about to get." "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" Sam screamed because it felt as if Kurt really WERE trying to slice him in half with his cock. His cum felt hot, and it felt, creamy. Thick. And it just kept on coming. The combination of the warmth and the creaminess helped to ease a little of the pain he was feeling. He saw Kurt smile. "You never got a chance to tighten your glutes, boy." Kurt was sweating. But he looked pleased." "No Sir, I didn't. "He flashed a smile. "Maybe next time?" "Heh heh. You're a real smart ass. And a tight ass. That was good, REAL good boy. So, you think I should bring you back a second time?" "I wish you would Sir." "Well, we're gonna see about that. Right now, you're gonna get untied and get dressed again. I'll drive you to wherever you live." He looked at Sam's face. "BOY don't give me those fucking puppy dog eyes. "For the first time that night, Sam felt like he had control. "I SAID DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT BOY." Sam smiled. "I give a good blowjob Sir. I'm REALLY good at it. Especially early in the morning." Kurt began shaking his head. "I am going to regret this. I am DEFINITELY gonna fucking regret it. But ok. You can spend the night. ONE NIGHT. Tomorrow morning, we get on the road, and you get back home, and you WAIT for my call. You understand?" "YES SIR. THANK YOU, SIR. I hope you'll let me blow you tomorrow morning." "Oh, that's a done deal, boy. Other people sing for their supper, my boys suck for their bed. You snore?" "No Sir." "Well, I do. Better get used to it." "Better get used to it." Sam held that thought. Was there a future here? He had the feeling that Kurt was more than just a hot fuck. He was excited. His thoughts were almost exactly the thoughts Kurt was having at that moment.