A gay watersports/mild S&M fantasy written for my personal enjoyment and hopefully for yours.
If under the age of consent or this is not your scene - push off now. If you like it please mail me at Antom@dial.pipex.com
Vivid Imagination
I went out last night. It was warm but not really hot. I'd been watching a video to jack off to and wanted more. Most likely because I'd been drinking and using poppers I felt much more raunchy than usual. I wanted to be dirty. I wanted to be used.
I put my favourite three-way cock ring followed by a pair of nylon shorts then an old pair of dark shell trousers I used for cycling in the winter. On my feet white socks and an old pair of trainers. On top a T-shirt and the matching tracksuit jacket. In a rucksack some cans of beer, a towel and a spare pair of pants.
I knew vaguely what I had in mind, also that it was unlikely there would be anyone around to indulge me. So, I would just have to indulge myself. But outdoors rather than in was much more fun, even if there was no one else involved. All in all a stupid idea in retrospect but when you feel as raunchy as I did then, fuelled by poppers and alcohol, you don't think quite straight.
I did have enough sense to use my bike and not the car and so happily started off through the dark and almost deserted streets to an out of the way cottage on the other side of the local playing fields. It was used by some of the local gays and I scored before, in fact quite often, but only the normal blowjobs and occasional fuck.
It was a good fifteen-minute ride and on the way I'd had to release my slightly bladder twice, managing to cut short the flow after a moment or two. Even so the feel of the warm liquid running over my crotch and down my thighs added to the knowledge I was doing so out in the open gave me such a turn on I had to stop myself from getting off my bike and jacking off there and then.
When I got where I was going I got off and locked up my bike. The feeling of the cooling piss running down my legs and soaking into my socks was fantastic. I was already building up to another flow but decided to hold out as long as possible. Walking over to the cottage in the half moonlight I realised I'd left it late and there was hardly anyone about. I could only see a couple of shadows standing in the trees outside. I removed my jacket and placed it in my rucksack, taking out a bottle of beer to make room.
Going in the cottage I opened the beer and started to drink. The bulb had been removed, or broken, as usual, but I could see slightly in the moonlight through the entrance and the dingy glass skylight. There was one person in there standing at the trough. I stood next to him. Glancing over I could see he was playing with a decent sized prick and glancing over at me. I shuffled closer and put my hand over to his cock. It was warm and throbbing, obviously ready for some action.
He tentatively put his hand over to my crutch but when I whispered 'not necessary' he seemed glad to snatch it away again. He smelt slightly of alcohol but didn't seem drunk. Possibly a semi-straight I thought to myself. As I massaged his cock he groaned and swayed slightly. Must be close I thought.
I moved away from the urinal and back to the wall, pulling him along with me. At first he seemed hesitant but when he saw me crouch down on my haunches gave in to the inevitable. I could see his features more clearly now. He was quite young and I'd not seen him before. Must be straight and frustrated I thought. Right then. I'd give him something to remember.
I started by gently undoing the rest of the buttons on his fly and extracting his balls, which I fondled as I held his cock in my other hand and began to lick it. First the tip and then up and down the shaft, first one side and then the other. He started to moan and sway again. He really was close I thought. Oh well! I sank my mouth over his shaft and worked slowly up and down, increasing speed and pressure as quickly as I could. He moaned louder and half humped my face in response. I could feel his cock staring to throb and took a deep breath in anticipation when he quickly pulled it out of my mouth and grabbing it with one hand whilst the other balanced him against the wall rapidly wanked himself off. He came almost at once, stream after stream of cum landing on my face and T-shirt before he came halfway to his senses.
"Oh I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to make a mess. Are you OK?"
"Oh Yes. You didn't have to pull out," I replied, and to prove it hunched forward and took his now softening prick back in my mouth where I savoured the final drops of his cum and milked him dry.
He stood still, letting me work on him for several moments before patting me on the head to signal he'd had enough. As I leant back against the wall he asked anxiously, "Are you sure you're OK?" I just nodded and he left, doing up his fly as he went. It was nice to be asked I thought. Usually that type just rushed off afterwards.
I could feel his cum drying on my face and T-shirt, also the pressure in my bladder was just too much. I picked up the bottle of beer from the floor and drinking it down let my bladder loose. As it hosed down my shorts and legs I let out a sigh of relief.
"You haven't cum have you?" asked a voice and I looked up with a start not being aware anyone else had come into the cottage. I could make out a dark shadow by the far wall, only six feet or so away but in the shadow so I couldn't make him out. All I could say was nearly six foot, slim, and by his voice reasonably young. "I was rather hoping you would feel like a repeat performance with me. I don't want to be so quick though. You haven't cum have you?" he asked again.
I don't know what made me say it. Always if in this type of mood I wait until everyone else has left before getting down to what I call the real fun on my own. Several of times someone has come in that late and caught me at it and usually at that time you will assist, especially if it's the only way they can get their rocks off. Even so I just answered, "No. I've not cum. I've just been pissing in my pants."
I heard an intake of breath and thought, 'Oh well. That's blown it.' But no. "Are you into that sort of thing?" asked the voice. "Come over here and let me feel."
I got up and walked over to him. As I got to him I could just make out he was coloured and most likely early thirties. Smooth ebony skin that just reflected in the dim light when he moved his head. Wearing dark shorts and pique shirt. It was no wonder I'd not seen him before he'd spoken.
He put his hands up to my face and then moved down to my waist. As I went to reciprocate he said, "Don't touch. Not yet anyway." His hands found the tie-cords at my waist and pulling them open put his hands down to my groin and felt at my wet shorts and semi hard cock. Pulling them out he wiped them over my face and told me to kneel down and hold both pairs of pants open.
I could guess what he had in mind and was not disappointed. Hardly was I in position when he pulled out a cock I couldn't make out in the dark and started pissing into my open pants. He had a good aim and most of his supply went where he intended, just a little at the end on my T-shirt.
He put his cock away and I must have made some sound of disappointment, as a grinning voice said, "Don't worry. There's a lot more for later if you still want it. Hope you're not in a hurry as I like to enjoy myself and it's been a long time since I've met a piss fiend." When I didn't answer he continued, "Good. Stand up and pull your pants back up."
I did as instructed, feeling his piss soak my pants as it poured down my legs soaking my socks and shoes. As I moved I could feel the excess sloshing out onto the floor. Possibly this was going to turn out a better night/morning than I'd expected.
"What's in the bag?" He asked. I told him.
"OK then. Take off your T-shirt and trousers. And your shoes and socks. Chuck them over in the corner and hang your bag up on the wall."
I rally have no idea why but I did just as he told me. Commanded would really be a better word but it didn't seem like a command somehow. Just a natural progression of events.
"Now come back here and lie down. Lie down in the mess that you just made." I lay down in the now cold puddle of piss but still felt hot. Something was happening to me. It seemed he knew me better than I knew myself. "Roll over but keep your face clean. For now." I obeyed his every word. He had obtained full control over me without once raising his voice or even touching me. There was a connection between us lie a length of elastic and even that was tightening around me.
"Now finish your beer, give me the can, and walk outside."
Outside? That gave me pause for thought. This cottage was isolated and there was hardly any moon up. Even so I'd seen some shadows outside and the occasional straight guy, or even girl, sometimes used the pathway through the trees as a shortcut. All I had on at two in the morning was a pair of wet running shorts and, I was sure, a dirty body. Striping of for some fun inside somehow seemed more secure, after all I'd done it a couple of times on my own before when really feeling raunchy. But outside? Where people could see me!
"Go on," he said. "Take another can with you. Walk over to the children's play area, stand by the rocking horse and drink the beer. I won't be far away."
Was it that promise or the elastic getting tighter? I didn't know then and I still don't. I just did as he said my bare feet slapping against the tiles floor and then outside into the muddy grass. The rocking horse was fully out in the open and probably the best-lit area around. It had got darker as some cloud came over but I could see for several yards in any direction when I got there, which obviously meant I could be seen also.
He followed some distance behind and stopped a couple of yards away in the shadow of a couple of trees. "Sit on the end and lean forward," his voice spoke out of the darkness. He must have used it before, or seen it being used. It was just the right height and length. My arse stuck out at one end and me chin just rested on the other. "Clasp your hands underneath and hold tight."
I knew what was coming and my cock hardened under me even though squashed in my shorts. Sure enough I heard footsteps approach and an exploring hand fondled my buttocks. It was pulled away and a new voice complained, "He's all wet!" "I know," said my original tormentor. "He's gone and pissed himself. He needs to be punished. Here you are." I could make out the rustle of clothing and a soft exchange of words.
Footsteps round to my face and a pair of black hands holding firmly either side of my head. My face was pulled into his crotch and I could feel his cock throbbing under the denim. He must have nodded or given a sign some other way as at the same time he grasped my head a belt, his belt?, landed across my arse. I had hardly time to do more than let out a gasp before it fell again and yet again. I couldn't yell I was too busy trying to grab a breath between gasps. I started to struggle but he held my head tighter. Just as I unclasped my hands from under the horse he said "That's enough," and the beating stopped.
The hands were removed from my head momentarily, just enough to undo the zip of his shorts. He droped them and pushed a flaccid prick into my mouth. It smelt slightly of piss and tasted salty. Even in its present state I had quite something to consider, well over eight inches long and broad in proportion. His hands went back to my head, holding it firmly in position, as he spoke again.
"That end is for the pair of you. This end is mine. Do what you want."
The pair of you I thought. More than one. That wasn't what I'd planned for. I had little time to consider the change of plans as I rapidly felt hands pull my wet shorts down to my ankles where they trapped my legs together.
There was little hesitation and no warning before I felt a rigid cock probe my hole and not take much time either about forcing an entrance. It was as much the suddenness as the pain that made me cry out and pull back from the cock in my mouth.
"Oh no," he said, "You don't get away like that."
What followed was no surprise as he opened the floodgates once more and happily used my mouth as his personal urinal. When he realised I was not pulling away his hands left my head, and bending slightly forward, moved under my body to my tits.
As the flow eased he left his cock in my mouth. "Just clean it. I don't intend to cum yet." And he started to work on my tits to make his point. I was only just aware when one cock was pulled rapidly form my arse followed by a splatter of cum on my back, was replaced by a second one that proceeded to rapidly abuse my arse as if he not had access to one for ages. This time I was rewarded by the feel of him shooting inside me, somewhat soothing after the punishment I'd unexpectedly received.
This one as he pulled out I heard him speak. "Can I?"
"Be my guest." Said the owner of the cock in my mouth as he finally released my tits and pulled out, just retaining a hold on my head. By now I was unsurprised when a warm acrid stream splashed on my back, then was aimed at my abused arse.
Finally it finished. "Get up," said my master, for by now he was fully in command. "Step out of your shorts and carry them back to the cottage. Its time to get really serious and I'm sure there must be one or two who've been watching who will glad to help me."
It never occurred to me to argue. He had complete control. I was to discover what he meant by serious as I walked, naked and dirty, back to the cottage where the first thing he did was tell me to sit with my feet in the urinal as we were followed in by a fair proportion of those who had been watching outside.
As they gathered round, cocks of all sizes and ages being uncovered, I just knew this was to be a night I would never forget.