THE MOVIES? NO, THANKS!
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part Four
Jon, Dave an Chas were standing by my bum, and I felt one set of hands on me again, pulling my cheeks apart. Then I squirmed with the unusual sensation as a finger trailed along my crack, and winced a bit as it circled around my arse hole.
"Jesus Christ! We've given him a real pounding!", I heard Jon say. "Look how puffy all the skin is around there. The Asians will know he's not a virgin, taking it for the first time."
"Not if we smear a lot of cum over it quickly at the start - we can milk him again, and then you, Jamie, need to have the camera a bit off at the side whilst we lube him up.... Show enough so they know we're using real cum, but be careful not to get a head-on shot until he's pretty much covered."
I hated the way they were talking about me like this, just as if I was not there, as if I did not matter. Although, of course, to them, I was nothing, I was just there to be used.
"Of course we could always say it was razor burn", Dave added. "A really close shave on all those delicate membranes...."
All the men laughed, and Chas added "Let's not waste time, then - I'll run the clippers over him, you hold him wide open, Jon, and you go and get the shaving stuff, Dave."
I could feel Jon's strong fingers pulling me apart again then, and the insistent whirr of the clipper started up again. "Now hold still, Steve", Chas told me. "I don't want to nick any of the skin down here. I'm going to run them up and down the sides of your arse crack, and then there'll be a bit of pulling and tugging as I need to do the bit between your hole and the back of your balls, OK?"
"NO! It's not fucking 'OK'. Not at all...."
Chas just laughed. "You don't know how lucky you are really, Steve. A lot of men like to be nice and smooth down there. And an awful lot more would really like to have three studs like us shaving them! When we make a complete shaving film there's never any shortage of applicants you know....."
"Well I wouldn't be one of them. A man isn't a real man without hair....."
"I shouldn't let it worry you. After all, who's to know you've got a nice smooth arse unless you start showing them. But then I suppose that's what all you rugger players do in those communal baths, isn't it? A quick feel and fumble amongst the lads....."
"NO! Look, I've never done anything like that. Never had another bloke's cock anywhere near me...."
"Well now you know what you're missing, Steve. And you know what they say - 'there's a first time for everything'. Mind you, I will warn you that once you are shaved down there, you're going to have to keep it going, you know. When the hair starts growing it can really itch and irritate - think about it, all those new, spiky pubic hairs pushing out and digging into your arse, or your balls...."
He shut up then and got on with it. And when Dave came over with a bowl of water, shaving cream and one of those round shaving brushes, it was Chas who lathered it up and then dabbed it all over my crack, hole and balls. It was actually not unpleasant - no, it was more than that, it actually felt somehow erotic to have the warm shaving foam and the soft, teasing brush sort of "stabbing" at my arse hole and churning around, on the way you do when you're lathering up. I always wet shave my face as I've got a really tough beard and electric razors don't do the business, so I knew exactly what Chas was doing to me. Then, of course, he started the actual shaving, with one of those disposable razors, again telling me to hold very still as he didn't want to nick me. He was leaning really close in as I could feel his hot breath on my arse as he worked away, and to my shame I found myself starting to go erect at the thought of another bloke this intimately
close to me.
Chas slapped my bum, not hard, but I suppose in a sort of "matey" way and told me "All done! Smooth as a new-born baby, just what the Chinks like. I suppose if they keep on getting more and more of the wealth on the world we'll all end up having to shave ourselves all the time just to conform."
He didn't give me time to reply, though, as he got Jon and Dave and the two cameramen together, and began to set the scene. "OK, so we all know what we're doing? Exactly the same as before - wank him, lube him up, then the same variations on fucking? Or does anyone want a change - do you want to ram him hard at the end, Jon?"
"No, you stick with it, mate! I like to fuck a man sensuously."
They all laughed, and I watched, helpless, as the camera took up position. And then it began all over again - exactly as before, as Chas had said. The hands on my cock, pulling it back between my thighs and wanking me; the lubricating and stretching of my poor arse hole (it was more painful this time, as I was already sore), and then three fucks.
I was hoarse from shouting and crying, and my arse felt as if it was on fire from the combined effects of the battering of their cocks and the slaps to my bum when they'd finished. And it was again Chas who wiped my bottom and generally cleaned me up when it was all over.
Chas then knelt s so his face was close to mine when he'd done this, and said "OK, Steve. Now we're going to dress you - they like to see a man having his underpants pulled on almost as much as they like seeing them ripped off. Then it's another dose of the magic juice, I'm afraid - but when you wake up, you'll be home: you do want to go to the address in your wallet, don't you? Or shall we drop you off at your girlfriend's, or something?"
"I haven't got a woman.... And if I had, I wouldn't want her to see me like this...."
"Oh Steve, have you been holding out on us? No girlfriend? A stud like you? So is there some nice stud expecting you in his bed tonight, sick with worry about why you're late, and wondering whether you've picked up some new nice piece of manhood to play with?"
"I've told you, I'm straight! It's just that.... Well.... Well, I'm between girlfriends just at this moment." Actually it did make me wonder - why was I like this? I'm good looking, in a job, I've got a good body.... Why wasn't I shacked up with some woman, like most of the other blokes at the rugger club? It's funny how you think of things like that at times like this, I suppose.
I don't know whether they'd fucked all the fight out of me, or whether I was just so glad it was all over, but I didn't struggle at all as they undid me from the frame and fastened my arms again to the pole. And it did feel good, as Chas knelt in front of me holding my underpants, and I followed his gestured directions to put first one foot and then the other into them. It's really funny to have another man pull up your pants, and when he "settled" my cock into position I could feel myself starting to get an erection. Chas was smiling and he looked up at me, and said casually "Ah, Steve, you like that, do you?"
"No! But.... But I need to piss.... It's making me hard."
Chas to his feet, moved behind me, and came back holding the bowl that had had the shaving water in it. He briskly pulled my pants down again, held my cock lightly in his fingers to guide it to point into the bowl. "OK, Steve, piss away.... We don't want any accidents when the anaesthetic cuts in, do we?"
Look, I'm not piss-shy or anything - I mean at most rugger clubs they only have those long urinals with none of those stupid "modesty panels", so I'm used to pissing with other guys. But having someone else hold my cock - well, I just couldn't make it happen. And the more I tried, the more it wouldn't work. I felt myself starting to blush furiously. And the more Chas kind of moved my cock up and down to "encourage" it, the less I felt able to piss - and then I knew what was going to happen, and in spite of thinking about anything else I could, there was no was of stopping it: I started to bone up.
Chas laughed aloud now. "Oh, Steve! You should have said you wanted a last wank, not a piss! Or would you like one of us to suck you off? Dave there really likes a big, fat cock in his mouth...."
"NO!"
He got to his feet, stood in front of me, and said calmly "Don't worry, Steve. It happens to a lot of men. Once they feel another bloke's fingers on their cocks, they can't help it. Now, I was serious - would you like us to wank you? Free of charge, no cameras running? Just for fun? Or do you want a really good blow job, the best you've ever had, from Dave or Jon or me? You can choose - or you can have two of us working on you... Have you ever been blown whilst someone else is sucking your balls?"
"NO!"
He shrugged. "Your loss, Steve. But you really had better try to piss. I tell you what - I'll put the bowl on the floor between your feet, and the rest of us won't look, will we, guys?"
They all laughed at they said things like "No peeping, then!" And "A shy one....", and rubbish like that. But, finally, I was able to let go and the moment he heard "water running", Chas was back there kneeling in front of me holding the bowl up so there was "no splashing", he said.
The bastard pulled my foreskin back one last time, though, and "expressed" the last traces out of my cock with his fingers - I know I keep saying I felt utterly humiliated, but, somehow, having a man do this to me was even worse than being fucked.
I was astonished what he did next, though.... He pressed in real close to me, put an arm around my naked bum to steady himself, leaned forward, and planted a kiss right on the end of my cock. A thrill ran through me, and he did it again, kissing the moist skin of my head, and causing me to moan as his tongue probed into my piss hole.
He stood up, his tongue running around his lips, and his arm now went around my head. I wondered what he was up to, and then realised that he was so close to my face, and he was going to kiss me! I turned my head away in disgust, and heard him say softly "Oh, Steve - come on, don't be shy - after all we've been through, what's the problem in a final kiss?"
"Fuck you!", I snapped, my head still turned away. And Chas reacted by pushing his head down and starting to kiss the base of my neck, moving and nuzzling and licking and kissing me... Probably just like I've sometimes done with a woman, I suppose. He looked me straight in the eyes then, and bent once more.... I cried out as his teeth sank into the side of my neck, and I cried again as he sensuously and gently bit me again and again. I tried to analyse my emotions - I ought to have been disgusted by another bloke doing that to me, but, somehow, the sensation from my body as Chas's cloths scraped against my naked skin, the scent of him as he pushed his head so close to my nose, the sensation of his tongue and teeth on my neck, all made me feel really horny. I could feel my cock stretching the thin fabric of my briefs.
Finally, though, his hands roamed around over the front of my underpants once more and he massaged my totally hard dick through the thin material. "Ah, Steve", he said quietly. "If only you'd let yourself go a bit, we could really have fun: your cock gives you away, mate: just turn your brain off for a bit, and let your instincts take over...."
"Fuck you", I managed to say. And I think I was a bit sad when I saw the look of disappointment run over his face. But he shrugged, bent down and pulled my jeans on for me, re-threaded my belt and did it up, and finally said "OK, Steve, fair enough. I thought we might have a nice bloke who wanted to experiment a bit.... But there are plenty more fish in the sea, and I can't waste time on someone who can't make up their own mind to enjoy themselves. So this is it..... A last goodbye....."
He moved around behind me and I smelled that smell again, as Chas's arm wrapped around my body and the fabric covered my nose and mouth.
When I came to I was sitting on a park bench not far from my flat. My gym bag was with me, I'd got a clean sweat shirt on, my wallet was in my pocket, everything.
I stumbled home, and stripped off my clothes, and as I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom I almost did not recognise myself: my cock looked huge, sticking out there from my bare body. And as I twisted around to get a view of my backside, I saw the deep red on my bum where they'd taken my belt to me. I realised I was erect, but I didn't want to wank just then.... I got the shaving mirror out of the bathroom and put it on the floor, then squatted down over it to get a look at my arse hole. Not that it did much good, as I wasn't sure what it looked like normally, as I've never been the sort of bloke who wants to look at his arse (or any other man's, for that matter!). But I did get a good view as it was all naked with my pubes and stuff totally shaved, and I'd heard them say I looked "puffy", and I suppose they were right - well, anyway, they were far more expert than me in these matters. Certainly when I reached down underneath
myself to touch it, it felt really uncomfortable.
Normally I like a shower, but I ran a hot bath and lay in it for almost an our, scrubbing away at my skin occasionally with soap, and letting in hot water now and then, as if I could in some way wash away the shame and embarrassment I felt at what had happened. I even tried pushing the corner of my flannel up my hole to clean it out, but it hurt a bit, so I stopped. As I lay there I wondered what I should do - I mean, I had been raped. I ought to have got out of the bath and honed the police - but the thought of all those coppers asking me questions about what had actually gone on, and some of them no doubt sniggering and laughing about how a tough bloke like me hadn't been able to stop them.... Well, there was just no way I could do it.
So I lay in bed, but I couldn't sleep as I kept thinking about what they'd done to me. And I hate not sleeping - and usually there's a simple solution for me: I just wank, and afterwards I drift off straight away. The wanking was no problem as my cock was nice and hard, but to my horror as I worked away I found myself thinking not about some of the women I'd had, but about how the bodies of Jon, Dave and Chas had felt against mine..... I wanted to stop, but I was too close... Too close, even, to reach out for a paper hanky.... And just shot my load all over the sheets. Well, that's one advantage of living alone, I suppose: it's only you who gets your cum all over you if you shoot off in bed!
The next morning I still didn't know what to do, and I reckon that if I'd seen a policeman in the street through my window, I might have called him in. But somehow I just could not pick up the phone. We had a match that afternoon, though, so I made myself a proper breakfast - sausages, bacon, eggs, toast, the lot.... Then I had to find some clean kit, and as I went to put it in my sports bag, I found an envelope lying on top of my dirty gym kit.
There was a thousand, in twenties! No note, nothing. Just the thousand. I sat there looking at it - I mean, that's a lot of money for me: a single man, with all the taxes... You don't often get your hands on that much cash, do you? But it made me feel dirty all over again - not only had I been fucked, I'd been paid for it! I felt as if I was some kind of rent boy or prostitute. If only there had been someone there I could have talked to about it, I know they'd have told me it wasn't my fault, that the money didn't alter the fact that I'd been raped.... But there wasn't, and I was only jerked out of my introspection by the thought that I'd otherwise be late for the match, and I'd not let my team down.
It wasn't so bad before the match - I went into the changing room, laughed a bit with some of my mates, then stripped off my jeans and pants and pulled my jockstrap on, before changing into my jersey and shorts. We had the usual rough game, and it as only afterwards that the trouble began.
In the excitement of the match, and with my whole body hurting anyway from a few punches and scuffles, as you expect, I'd forgotten about my ordeal. But of course the moment my mates saw me naked as I was in the showers, they started to jeer about my shaved pubes - I wasn't the only one with trimmed pubes, as I've told you, but most of us thought that having your pubes cut just to please your girlfriend was going too far. And, anyway, the others had just lost some of it - I was the only one absolutely bald, just like a new-born baby.
I tried to make a joke of it, saying they were just jealous of my big cock, but Sean, who's normally my best friend in the team, came and slapped me on the bum in a friendly way and said "Well you must be keen on her, anyway, Steve.... Look at all those love bites!"
All the others crowded around - we're not prudes in the team, and it's OK to touch another bloke in the showers provided you leave his cock and balls alone - and with fifteen blokes all together it's almost inevitable there will be some skin to skin contact. There was a lot of friendly banter until someone shouted out "Mind you, she's got a hell of a big mouth, judging from the size of those things.... Still, I suppose she'd need to have, if she's blowing Steve regularly...."
I was expecting the laughter to continue, but it all went strangely silent, and the men backed away and carried on showering, mostly quietly. And there wasn't the normal atmosphere of joking and stuff as we dressed. It was quiet in the bar afterwards, too, and I could feel a bit of an atmosphere - some of the lads were talking together in little groups, and somehow I couldn't seem to join in. Finally, Sean put his arm around my shoulder and pulled us close, so that the others couldn't hear. "Look, Steve, I've known you long time. We're best mates, right?"
"Of course...."
He moved around, clearly embarrassed. "Look, Steve... Some of the other guys.... Look, I'm your mate, right? And I'm not prejudiced, not like some of the fuckers, OK?....."
"What the fuck are you going on about?"
"Steve, it won't do! The lads don't like it. It's awkward... Us being mates and all...."
"What the fuck are you going on about, Sean?"
"We don't like queer boys here, Steve. You know that - you've said so often enough yourself. I'm sorry, mate. But it won't do... Look, perhaps you could join that special club for queers...."
"What the fuck are you going on about? You know I'm straight...."
"I used to think you were. But there's too much stacking up, Steve..... You haven't been in here with a girl for ages...."
"Yes, the last bitch broke up with me, and I haven't had time...."
"Sure, that happens a lot. But the other stuff... Shaving your pubes....."
"...a lot of blokes clip their hair..."
"...but not shave it off totally. And those love bites...."
"I've seen you with them, Sean...."
"But not that big. Only a bloke would have a mouth that big. And then Tim reckons those red marks on your arse are from a thrashing..."
"...and how would he know?"
"Look, Steve, don't make it hard on us. A lot of the blokes here don't like queers, don't like having you look a us in the showers, don't want you touching them in the scrums.... Just get your bag and go, OK?"
"No, it's not OK! You're my mate, Sean..."
"Yes, Steve, and that's why I'm telling you. Some of the other lads want to take you out to the car park and give you a good sorting out...."
"This is stupid! I've been in the team here for six years...."
"Steve, that makes it worse! We're all thinking about you looking at us all that time. And when we went on tour, sharing a room with you.... And the stripping games and stuff... Now, come on, before there's real trouble.... Some of the younger lads have had a drop too much to drink already, and things could turn nasty...."
I looked around, and saw the look of sheer hostility on the faces of some of the men I'd been friend with for years, or so I thought. "Look....", I called out, meaning to give them an explanation. But they all turned their backs on me.
To salvage some shred of pride I stormed out - I'm not the kind of man who's going to get thrown out of places. And I went home, and got drunk. So on the Sunday morning as well as my other problems I'd got a foul hangover.
I'd usually go down the club just before noon and have a few beers with the lads, and then those of us without current women would go off for a curry or something, but I couldn't do that now. So I was pretty lonely, and I mostly sat around thinking about having been raped. Even then, I suppose, I could have gone to the police, but I felt ashamed now not only about what had happened to me, but in not having had the guts to call them Friday night. I felt really depressed, until about four o'clock, it suddenly came to me: I could track them down.... I fired up my PC and started searching for places in London which sold specialist cameras like they'd been using, and I remembered that the cameraman Ian had said it was new.
Well, my luck was in. It was indeed new. Some store down near Wardour Street claimed it was the only place in the country that had them yet. So I reckoned that if Ian was going to get a repair, or a replacement, he'd have to end up there. Once I'd worked that out, I began to feel better, and as I had the PC on, I started to watch some porn, which made me feel even better. Although I started to worry a bit - was I really looking at the women, or was I only doing it to look at the cocks on the blokes, and the way their arses pounded up and down as they screwed the bitches? That's the kind of crap you start to worry about when your mates start to call you a queer, I suppose. So after an hour or so, I snapped the lid closed and went to bed, and lay there just wanking and generally playing with myself.
On Monday morning I called the foreman on the site and gave him some bullshit about not feeling well - he cursed a bit and said I was hung over, and that he'd forget about it just this once as I was usually reliable, provided I turned up on Tuesday. So then I went off into the West End, and took up station opposite the shop, just before it opened.
When you see cops and people "staking out" places on TV, it always looks easy. But after about fifteen minutes I realised I looked really conspicuous standing there - for one thing, I had my big donkey jacket on, and most of the other people were in "smart" kind of stuff. And they were all hurrying along, whereas I was clearly loitering. And it was freezing cold, too - especially when it began to drizzle. I tried going into a coffee place and keeping watch from there, but there's only so long you can sit nursing a coffee, isn't there? So then I walked up and down - but you can't go too far, in case you miss something.
By about ten I was thinking about giving up - especially as the coffee had worked its way through and I felt desperately in need of a pee. But my luck was in, as just as I was about to go, a taxi pulled up and Ian got out clutching a big bag, one of those "professional" ones you use for cameras and stuff like that. He was in the shop quite a while, and I began to worry what I'd do if he came out and got another cab - I mean, you can hardly get another one and say "Follow that cab!", can you? They only do that in the movies. And then there's the expense - with the ludicrous price of London taxis, I didn't know if I could afford it (although I then thought about the thousand, and smiled).
He didn't get a taxi, though, and instead I had the problem of trying to follow him without being seen.... All that stuff about ducking into doorways and so on doesn't work, if you're trying to follow someone in a crowded London street. But then, he wasn't expecting to be followed - who is? And so it wasn't too bad, and I trailed him to Tottenham Court Road, where he got the Central and I was able to keep an eye on him by getting into the next carriage and looking through the windows in the emergency doors. I almost lost him in the crush at Bank, but managed to spot him heading for the DLR, and, like him, threw myself into a Lewisham train just as the doors were closing.
He got out at Crossharbour, and I followed him to a new block of flats. As he buzzed open the entrance doors, I came right up behind him and kind of pushed him in, grabbing his arm and really catching him by surprise.
"What the fuck....", he started to say.
"Remember me, Ian? It is Ian, isn't it? The man with the broken camera? The man who couldn't finish filming Steve on Friday?"
"What the... How did you...."
"Shut up, fucker! Is this where Chas and the others live?"
"No."
"Best take me into your flat, then.... And we'll call them."
"No... Look, Steve, I'm sorry.... Let's...."
"Listen, do you want me to make a scene here? Or call the police? Or shall we just go quietly into your flat, then you can call the others and get them over here.... I haven't got a quarrel with you personally, really - I guess you were just doing a job.... It's those bastards Jon and Dave and Chas.... Especially Chas, as he organised it."
"No, I...."
"Listen, fucker. You saw my body. You know how strong I am. Do you want me show you just how tough I can be when my arms aren't out of action? It won't be a knee in your balls, Ian... I'll beat you to a pulp, and then we'll see how co-operative you can be... Would your girlfriend like you without all those teeth, and with your nose broken?"
"Listen, it's not like you think...."
"Shut the fuck up! Either let's go in and you can get Chas over here, or I'll lay into you...."
He shrugged in resignation, and we went up into the lift, along a corridor, and into a really nice flat - all new, and clean.
I started to look around ,with Ian watching me warily. "Don't....", he cried as I went to go into one of the bedrooms, but of course that only made me more curious and I went in.
It was set up as what looked like one of those professional editing places you see in films - a couple of big PCs, and about five really huge screens attached to them. Lots and lots of DVD cases in racks, and a slew of them across the desk. The PCs were on, and when I touched a key on one of the keyboards, the screens lit up.... With me! There I was, naked, getting fucked. Or just standing there naked. Or with a tortured look on a close up of my face.
One of the screens was in an e-mail program, and as I read it, my curiosity was raised. I paged back a bit and read more... Then I grabbed hold of Ian by his shirt, and dragged him out of there and back into the living room - I couldn't bear to be in there seeing all those pictures of myself being humiliated like that.
"So, Ian.... It's not Chas who runs it, is it? I thought he was in charge.... But he wasn't, was he?"
"You saw him...."
"I saw him.. And I felt him, felt him fucking me, sure enough! But I've just read that mail. You set this up, didn't you? You do all of it - hire Chas, Dave and Jon...."
"Look, Steve...."
"Look? Look?" I could feel my temper starting to get the better of me. "Look? What do you want me to look at? Pictures of me getting raped? Or pictures of some other poor sods getting raped? How many of these have you set up?"
He started to say something, but I lost it. I hit him - no a punch, but a great swipe, with the open hand, to the side of his head. He's not a big bloke, and it threw him completely off balance, and he fell to the ground. He knelt there, rubbing the side of his face, looking at me in utter astonishment.
"Get up!"
"No, please..."
"Get the fuck up, on your feet, like a man... Or do you want me to give you a good kicking while you kneel there like a dog."
"Please don't hit me...."
"And why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't bat the shit out of you."
"We don't really hurt people...."
"You stupid fuck! You don't think it hurts to be raped....?"
"Only for a bit.... The first few times...."
"You stupid fuck! It's not that... Not the actual pain.... What can I do, now I'm not a real man any longer?"
"Steve, be reasonable...."
"Be reasonable? Be reasonable?". I was shouting now. I was so angry. I felt like really piling into him, beating him to a pulp. But then I could imagine what might happen - he'd call the police, get rid of all the tapes, he knew where I lived.... It would be me hauled up into Court. It would only be my word against the five of theirs. They'd lie, and say they picked me up, that I was putting out, for rent..... There was no way I could get them convicted, and the law would do me for GBH, which is always custodial....
I felt myself calming down. There was another way of punishing him. "Take your clothes off", I commanded.
"What?"
"You heard me! Take your clothes off - all of them. Strip. Get naked."
"Steve, please...."
I advanced on him, threateningly, and he cowered in front of me. Actually, having a man terrified of you like that is a bit of a turn-on.
"Are you going to get naked, or am I going to have to hit you?"
He looked pleadingly at me, but I glared back, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, he pulled his shirt out of his jeans, unbuttoned it, and took it off. He didn't have a bad body - not muscular as such, but lean and trim.
"All of it!", I snapped, and slowly undid his belt, pushed down the zip on his jeans, and shuffled them down. He hopped from foot to foot as he took off his trainers and eased his jeans totally off. He stood there then in front of me in his socks and boxers - the sort you get from Next, with short legs, and really snug fitting.
"Come on, Ian... What's the problem? You liked seeing me strip, didn't you? Now lose those socks, and then I want the boxers off."
A couple more hops from one foot to the other, and then, slowly, very slowly, he pushed his boxers down and stepped out of them. His cock was properly in proportion to the rest of him, and like most of the young lads at the club, he wasn't circumcised - although he didn't have one of those foreskins that trailed down a long way beyond the end of his cock. He was moderately hairy, and I reckoned he trimmed his bush a bit.
"Lose the watch, and that stupid necklace", I snapped. "I want you completely bare. Naked as the day you were born."
He kept his eyes on me as he obeyed, and I stepped forward then and grabbed his arm, spinning him around. He had a small, tight bum - at the club we'd have said he was the perfect hooker type. I couldn't resist it - I gave him a good slap on his bum, and he shouted out in surprise.
"Lucky it's only my hand, eh, Ian? I seem to remember it was a leather belt on Friday across my arse."
"Look, Steve, what do you want? More money....?"
"No. You raped me - or, rather, you had me raped. And I reckon if it's sauce for the goose, it's sauce for the gander, as the old saying goes....."
"No, please...."
"What's the matter, Ian? You just like seeing blokes made to take cock, and you don't like it yourself?"
"No, but...."
"But nothing! Get into the bedroom....!"
He went to say something, to protest again, so I slapped his bum, this time a bit harder, and still gripping his arm, pushed him in front of me into the bedroom, and roughly pushed him don onto the bed.
He stared at me as I stripped off my clothes, and I just smiled. "I bet you never thought you'd see me naked in the flesh again, not on tape, did you?"
"Steve, please...."
I went and stood right in front of him. "Now, Ian, I'm told men like sucking cock... So why don't you wrap that mouth of yours around mine, and show me how I should have done it on Friday?"
I had to threaten to hit him again before he slowly took my cock in his hand, and then bent his head and started to nuzzle and suck at me with his lips. I'd really only meant to humiliate him, but as he worked away I couldn't help it - seeing the young slim guy with his head bobbing up and down as he worked at my cock was somehow erotic and arousing, and my cock went rock hard. I thought about really fucking his throat, as they'd fucked mine, but remembered the vile way I felt as all that phlegm and stuff came up from my stomach. So instead I pushed him away, and said, calmly, "Lie down.... On your belly...."
He did as he was told, and I went and lay on top of him: it felt fantastic, to feel the heat of him under me. I wrapped my legs around his, pushed his arms out above his head, and buried my face in the nape of his neck. My cock was giving me problems, so I eased myself backwards and forwards until it lodged in his arse crack - it seemed somehow natural.
He was making little whimpering noises, and I eased my weight up off him for a moment.
"Are you going to fuck me?", he almost whispered.
"I reckon so."
"There are condoms in the side table...."
"What about all that stuff on Friday about not wanting to blunt the sensation? Anyway, I never use them.... Well, not on women..... So I think I'll manage your arse without them..."
"Please, no...."
"What's the matter? Scared? It was OK for you to have Chas and Dave and Jon fuck me without them. I hope you got them medically checked out, because if they gave me something, you're going to get it now."
He turned his face into the sheet, and I thought he might be about to cry. But my cock was hard, and you know how it is, it starts to hurt after a while if you don't do anything about it. So I raised myself up of him a bit, reached underneath and spread his cheeks, and felt around to find the spot. The air around his hole felt all kind of silky, and I positioned my cock, and thrust in.
He screamed. And to stop him, I had to force his head down into the sheets - I wasn't sure whether his neighbours would hear through the walls.
It was utterly fantastic. He was so tight, and as I forced my cock home the way his arse gripped me made me almost want to come immediately. But it was more than that - it wasn't just the feelings flooding through me from my cock, it was the exercise of power over him: here I was fucking this guy, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. I was in charge, totally in control, doing what a strong man had a right to do to a weak one.
His hot sweaty bum felt fantastic against my pubic bone as I got right home as far as I could, and then, of course, I began to fuck him seriously.... No big, long thrusts, but a lot of little ones, very fast. I felt my heart begin to race, I broke out in sweat with the exertion.... And, all too soon, I felt myself beginning to cum. I desperately held myself back as I pulled out of him, roughly turned him over so he was lying on his back, straddled him with my knees and waddled forward a bit.... It only took a couple of wanks before I shot my cum all over his face, as he lay there looking up at me.
I went into the bathroom leaving him lying there, so I could wash his shit off my cock - that's one advantage of fucking a woman, I suppose (well, if you don't take he in the arse, at least). And then I felt terrible about what I'd done - but at least with me it had just been anger and passion, not old and calculated and set-up. I could see how easy it was to get totally carried away - I'd only meant to humiliate him a bit, but I'd ended up raping him. And I wasn't queer, not really. It was just that his body and arse were so tempting.
Rubbing my cock dry with one of his towels I walked back into the bedroom, expecting to see him crying or something.... But instead of that he was spread-eagled on the bed, his arms and legs thrown out casually, looking really relaxed. He patted the sheet by the side of him.
"Come on, Steve..... Come and lie here..... You like to play rough, don't you!"
Gingerly, not really knowing why, I did so. It felt odd to have another man's body so close to mine, so intimately close.
As I watched, he ran a finger over his face, using it to push some of my cum into his mouth. He was smiling, faintly, and licked his lips. Then he pushed the finger towards me.... Moving it so it almost touched my lips.
"No...", I began. "I'm not queer...."
"Come on, Steve.... It's only your own cum....", he whispered. And somehow, it seemed so sexy that I opened my mouth and sucked at his finger. He moved up, leaned over me, bent his head down - I caught a whiff of cum as he did so - then he went to kiss me.
I turned my head away. "I told you, I'm not fucking queer...."
He persisted, though, holding my chin and gently moving my face back so I was looking directly at him. "Come on, Steve... You've fucked me... So why won't you kiss me? Are you scared?"
"Blokes don't do that with other blokes..."
"Shhhh..", he whispered. "Don't be afraid. I didn't mark you as a bloke who'd be scared...."
Look, there's no way some wimp is going to say I'm scared of anything! I was going to tell him so, but he pushed his face down into mine. I felt his tongue probing, and opened my mouth a little....
Look, there are some things you shouldn't write about. And the way that Ian showed me how two men really ought to treat each other is one of them. So all I'll say is that at about five o'clock, when Jamie got home, we were still in bed.
Jamie looked shocked when he first came into the room and saw us locked together, embracing and stroking and kissing, the bed in a complete turmoil of tangled sheets. Then, as I watched, he began to strip.
"Hey", Ian said, laughing. "It's no good. I've worn Steve out."
I felt my cock stir. "I've never done a threesome...", I confessed. "Never found two women who'd be prepared to do it...."
Jamie laughed now. "Well, Steve, things are a bit different with men. A body like yours.... Two, three, four... An orgy.... There's lots of men who'd be glad to join in."
"Before you two get stuck in, let me get the camera and record it.... I reckon I've got just enough energy let for that", Ian told us.
"The movies? No, thanks", I told him. "I reckon I had enough of that for a lifetime on Friday. It's strictly for fun from now on I must have had the shortest careeer as a movie star ever: Just the one production. Still, it paid well....."
The End. London, January, 2009.
Author's note: As I said when I began this, it is rather different from my other stories. I wanted to try my hand at "normal" porn, without all the slavery. And I wanted to write a short story. Clearly I haven't succeeded in my second objective, as, like most of my stories, once I'd begun to think about Steve and how he felt, the words just flowed and flowed and I have no enthusiasm for re-wording and re-writing. As Oscar Wilde said "I've written you a long letter, as I had no time to write a short one".