A sudden breeze sent the falling leaves scurrying to the gutter with
the sound of rustled paper. I felt the first drop as it struck my cheek
and, looking up to the dark clouds, I knew we were in for a heavy rain,
but I was too much in need to leave the fire hydrant that was my seat.
I looked at the other hustlers around me, sitting on curbs or steps, or
leaning against buildings. They looked to the threatening skies with
anxious frowns. Though the raindrops were warm and tropical, they caused
the young men to put on discarded jackets, or button opened shirts to
cover bare skin.
We were on Selma Avenue in Hollywood, the citys’ most active meat-rack,
and we were male hustlers selling ourselves to the cruising Johns. It
was Friday afternoon of a summer day in 1964. I was a student at USC
engaged in the graduate study of economics with the ultimate goal of
law school, and I supplemented my meager income in a most pleasant and
satisfying way.
Like the others, I had been hoping for a week-end lover; a John who would
keep me until Monday morning, when I would return to the straight world,
richer in experience and wallet. But the rain put a damper on that hope.
(no pun intended). It was raining hard, now.
I watched them, as they took off, one by one, headed for gay bars and
coffee shops and porn theaters, in the hopes of finding their Johns there.
Those with money would go to one of the many bath houses that thrived in
this iniquitous part of the city, and wait for the rain to stop. But I
refused to leave my seat, the most exposed and noticeable site on the
street. I was horny and broke. There were no alternatives.
My hair was wet, thoroughly so. I could barely see for my glasses were
covered with drops of rain water. I was dressed in running shorts and a
t-shirt, both of which were of such thin material that as they clung to
body, they revealed it, showing all the subtle nuances: the rippling
muscles quivering in excitement, and the sprinkling of hair that scattered
over my chest and down my abdomen. Even my nipples, enlarged and erect,
crowning a well-developed chest, were visible. I felt a stirring in my
loins as the wet shorts gripped me and molded around the curves of my
testicles and held in the expanding penis. The rain was turning me on.
I sensed a growing excitement as I realized that I was the only hustler
left on the street. I guess if it hadn’t been for the rain, what happened
that week-end never would have happened.
When the red Corvette turned the corner and slowed down as it approached
me, I knew that something was about to break loose. When it flashed its’
lights, I knew for sure. I stood up, better to reveal my slender frame
and smiled a welcome greeting. I had been hustling ever since my first
year in college, and knew that to hook the fish, I had to make the first
move, even though the John, in fact, was the hunter. It was necessary to
assure him in some way that I was not vice. I rolled my tongue over my
lips and touched the fly on my short shorts. Dipping my head, I smiled
bringing my fingers to my lips in a suggested kiss. He steered the
Corvette to the curb, and rolled down the window on the passenger side.
I leaned on the car door and looked in. Ah! This was the moment of
revelation.
He was a young man. His hair was long, sitting over the tops of his ears
and cascading down his neck. It was copper gold in color. He was handsome.
Angular features clearly defined the high cheek bones and jutting chin.
Blue eyes smiled as his lips formed an almost bashful grin, but he held his
head high and proud. He was an aristocrat, a man who had lived the good
life, never wanting or worrying. How lucky for me, for he was not only
handsome, he was rich, too.
What’s up? he asked looking at me, a half-smile flashing across his face.
I nodded a silent yes to his implied question. Now we both were playing it
carefully. Neither of us was sure of the other yet.
I guess it’s raining pretty hard, I said non-committantly. An understate-
ment if ever there was one.
Maybe you’d better get in out of the rain, he said reaching for the door.
His tongue protruded from full lips. The smile was frozen in place. He
stared at my crotch. My cock had swollen to horizontal and extended my
wet shorts out, pointing at him. I made no attempt to cover myself, for
I felt safe with him now. It was obvious what he was, just as it was
obvious what I was. We both wanted each other. The door opened and I
slipped onto the leather seat.
How much?
Depends……How much time you want?
I’m in L.A. for the week-end and I…..
I usually get 200 for all night, I interrupted, a three nighter is five.
He was so handsome I was about to add, ‘but I’ll do it for three,’ but he
nodded his acceptance and the terms were agreed upon with minimum discussion.
I settled back on the soft leather seat as he accellerated the car.
Silence in the beginning has always been awkward for me. What do I call
you? I asked him.
My name is Alex, but you call me Sir! You understand? He looked at me
briefly. he smile was gone and the warmth of him went away with it. You
do what I tell you and we’ll get along just fine.
Yes Sir!
He headed east on Sunset until we got to the Silverlake hills. Turning
right on Maltman, he soared up the steep hill and around Winslow, then
turned into a narrow drive. An electric door opened for us to drive
through, then it closed quietly. We were in a garage. Leaving the car we
entered a large room. There were no windows. The walls were mirrored
No lamps were lit to dispell the dimness of the room. The remains of a
fire smouldered in the fireplace. He added several logs and their
illumination brighted the room. He struck a match and lit many candles.
Their dancing flames added an erotic atmosphere.
He walked to a counter against the wall. It was a bar of sorts, and he
got two bottles of beer. He handed one to me. He didn’t ask me if I
wanted it.
I watched him as he strode across the room. He was tall. Very tall.
Muscular, yet lean. His figure was young and athletic. He walked quickly
with a spring in his step. Then he turned toward me and saluted with his
beer. His smile was back now, and I felt better for it.
Take off your clothes, he said.
And I did.
I stood naked, my hands by my side. I watched him as he stared at me. He
was intent, as though he were memorizing my body. It was exciting to have
him look at me. I could feel the blood rush to my cock as it became erect.
I am uncut, and the foreskin rolled back with the swelling of the muscle.
I felt exposed and vulnerable. My nipples harded too, and I wished he
would command me to do something. It seemed strange to be so silent at so
exciting a moment.
He looked pleased, happy with his purchased. There was the confidence of
ownership as he walked around me assessing my curves and angles. A micro
inspection of a naked slave. This was the crucial moment in a hustlers’
life; the moment of acceptance. Knowing that he was not disappointed caused
a thrill to rush through me. It was almost as good as being loved.
Grab you ankles.
Yes Sir!
He slapped the curve of my buttocks with his open hand. He slapped again.
There was a resounding crack. I almost fell over.
Steady, he said, smiling, and he slipped a finger into my anus. As far as
it would go. He twisted it inside my rectum. I’m going to fuck you, a lot.
And then he laughed. Shit! It’s full of shit!
He pulled his finger out and brought it around to my face. The familiar
smell of this secret garden excited me. Lick it, he said. Clean it.
and I did.
Get up on the bed, and lay on you back.
I did as I was told. I looked at him. His tie was untied now, hanging
loosely around his neck. The top buttons of his shirt were open, and I
could see a mass of copper chest hair. I wished he would take off his
clothes. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted his cock.
Raise your legs, he said gruffly, Get them up. Higher. Yes, that’s it,
back over your shoulder.
Then came the hum. He had an electric razor in his hand. He put it into
the crack of my ass. The steady vibration of it caused a delicious
sensation in my cock. He worked the razor back and forth slowly and
carefully, shaving away the hair that grew there. It took a long time.
I wished it would take forever for the pleasure in my cock was sharp and
sweet. When the crack was shaved clean, he applied the razor to my balls.
Aaahhh! Aaahhh! I cried. Oh God, Sir! You better stop or I’ll come.
Don’t come, his voice was firm and demanding. You understand?
Yes Sir.
He continued shaving the balls and then up the swollen and erect cock to
shave away a few errant hairs that grew on it. I held my fingers in a
tight fist. I thought of mother and christmas and tried to sing silent
carols……’Oh Holy Night!’ I cried real tears, and my nails cut into the
palm of my hand. eventually he pulled away. The humming stopped, and though there were no
there were no more vibrations, my cock tingled with exquisite pleasure that
only gradually receded. I had delayed coming. He smiled, nodding his
satisfaction. I was rewarded.
I was extremely horny now. I could still feel the tingle in my cock and
balls. I was ready, but he prolonged it, continuing the agonizing pleasure
of delay. He handed me another can of beer. A cool liquid respite to hold
off, and wash away the tightness in my parched throat.
I smelled the marijuana as he lit a joint. Sucking in a great gust of its’
smoke into his lungs, he passed it to me and I did the same, holding it in
as long as I could. It exploded out in a fit of coughing. I sipped the beer
and lay back enjoying the delicious surge of lust.
We looked at each other. The vision, improved by marijuanas’ veil, enhanced
all physical things. His smile was open now, revealing white even teeth,
surrounded by full and pasionate lips. Deepset eyes flashed hot desire, and
my growing excitement caused me to stretch my body, offering it to him.
His steel blue eyes continued to stare at me. I watched as they went from
cock to nipples to my face, my nipples, and back to my cock again. It was
as though his stare reached out and caressed my skin. I loved the way he
looked at me, wishing only that he would take off his clothes. I wanted
him naked too, to see the whole of him. But he was teasing himself as
well as me.
His hands touched my shoulders, pushing me back onto the bed. I stared at
the ceiling. It was mirrored, too. I reached up to embrace myself. At that
moment he grabbed my arms and pulled them back over my head, so that my
wrists touched each corner. With an incredibly swift and silent movement
he locked them into restraints that had been hidden there. The soft leather
gripped my wrists and held them to the surface of the bed. It happened too
quickly for me to stop it, though I knew at the time, that given the choice
I would have submitted to his wants.
When he went to my ankles, I lay passive on the hard mattress. I was ready
to give him anything he desired. No longer a hustler, the soul of a slave
had taken over. I belonged to him now.
Underneath his jeans, his basket was full, the cock stretching to get out of
its’ confinement. I watched the expanding crotch, and saw the shape of the
bone, alive and warm. The stain on the fabric of his slacks was dripping
loves’ juices. I looked to his blue eyes, willing him to bring his cock
out and jam it into my mouth.
His eyes were smiling, pleased with himself, but his lips frowned in deep
concentration as he affixed the leather braces to my ankles in slow
deliberation. Once secure, he attached them to a chain, which he hooked
on to the back wall. My legs were pulled high into the air, and lay over
my prone body. The hooks on the wall were position wide apart, so that
my legs veered in opposite directions, spreading my buttocks and exposing
my hairless anus.
He played with it, inserting his fingers. First one, then two and three.
The shit in the lower bowel did not bother him. When he pulled his fingers
away, I could see the brown stains, and could smell the pungent odor of it.
He put his finger to my face and smelled them, inhaling as one inhale poppers.
He put his fingers into my mouth, and I washed them clean.
He chuckled to himself, You like that don’t you?
Yes sir.
It was then that he stood up and looked at my contorted body, doubled in its’
strange position, and he unbuttoned his shirt, and throwing it on the floor,
he kicked off his shoes. Slipping out of his jeans, he was naked at last!
I looked at him. His handsome face was unimportant now. I studied only his
enormous cock jutting out of his hairy loins. The tip of it was red and
shiny in the soft candlelight. He too, was uncut. His body, perfect in
every way had not been tampered with. The prepuce was loose, and I watched
it as it slid back over the swelling knob. Thick blue veins coursed down
the side of the swollen muscle losing themselves in the thick bush of
coppered-colored hair. It was huge. There must have been ten inches of
solid meat, slender in circumference. The piss eye stared at me. I wanted
to grab it, to hold it, to play with it, to love it with kisses, to worship
it with a sucking mouth.
You want it bad, don’t you, cocksucker? he said with a sneer.
I nodded yes. Words were unnecessary, and inadequate too. I strained my
arms from the restraints in an attempt to free them so that I could touch
this idol cock.
Yes Sir, I said. I want it. Please give it to me sir. I could feel
the hurt in my own cock as it stretched beyond its limit.
The mattress shook like a violent sea as he climbed upon it, and placing
one knee on each side of me, he straddled my chest. I felt his heavy
testicles on my neck as he rubbed his cock over my face. I opened my mouth
wishing him to put it in, but he only teased me, allowing a licking wet kiss
on the shaft. I tasted salty sweat as his balls covered my open mouth, and
his erect cock rubbed over my forehead. So near, yet so far.
He slid forward so that now he was sitting on my face. My nose was buried in
his musky crack. I wondered at the filth of it. He was so much the gentleman,
fastidious and perfect in all appearances, yet the many hairs that grew there
were crusted with gobs of dried shit. It must have been weeks since he had
cleaned himself. The smell of this secret Eden sent shocking impulses
down my spine and I kissed his filthy anus with open lips, my tongue
separating the hairs that covered it. The tasty membrane was smooth and slick.
I sucked away the remnants of shit caught in the hair. He pressed himself
down on my face and I sucked on his shitty asshole. His sphincter relaxed,
opened so that my tongue slipped inside, licking away the bitter shit. He
groaned his pleasure, while I muffled mine. But my pleasure had to be
greater than his. After a while, he raised his trunk off my face. I tried
to hold him there, for I wasn’t ready to let him go yet, but he pulled away.
Please, don’t go, Sir. But he didn’t go. He only twisted his position
around so that he was facing the other way. He settled his buttocks back
down on my face, and I pushed my tongue into his asshole once more. Ah,
yes. thank you, sir, I said as I sucked and the luscious feast continued.
And then a new sensation. I felt a warm flush of liquid on my cock. God,
he was pissing on me! Ah God! The pleasure was too much to bear. I pulled
my body up off the bed, to better meet the cascading stream, and I pushed
my violent tongue deeper into his ass-hole, slobbering saliva, and sucking
shit from it in a frenzy.
His hands reached to a puddle of piss that had gathered in the hollows of my
body, and slurped the warm slimy liquid everywhere; into my pits, over my
nipples, down my abs, and the hot steamy piss still flowed out of his cock
and onto mine. His hands cupped my testicles, pulling them up against the
hard cock, and I knew there was no way I could stop it now. No way to call
it back. It started deep in the balls, an enormous surge of electric
pleasure shot through my swollen penus and exploded cum everywhere. The
force of it was so great that it splashed on my chest, my shoulders and
certainly on his cock and balls.
My tongue plunged deeper into his asshole, and I sucked with a fury that
could not be denied. He whimpered. He cried. He ground his ass into my
face. With a cry of pleasure he exploded his cum, to mingle with mine,
on my piss-drenched body.
When he pulled away, he released the chains that bound me. He stretched
his body over mine. Head to head, feet leveraged to feet, stomach to
stomach. He held me in his arms and kissed me. I could feel the beating
of his heart against mine, and we lay together for a long time, until the
passion receded and turned itself into love.
I was the first to awaken, how many hours later? The light from the many
candles was almost gone, for most of them had drown in their own melted
wax. But there was light enough for me to see him lying next to me. He
was on his back, his head cradled in his hands, elbows to the ceiling.
His breath came and went in a slow steady rhythm.
I raised myself to better look at him. How handsome he was. How
beautiful his naked body. Curly golden hair scattered over his chest,
thick, but not so thick as to cover rust-covered nipples. They protruded
out beyond it, flushed with passion. I looked at his cock. It too,
surged with a lusty need of love. Standing erect and tall, it soared out
of the island of pubic hair. His balls were solid, packed with loves
juices, not at all drained as one might expect, given the passion he
spent. Was he dreaming a fantasy? The smile on his relaxed face reflected
pleasure. It was my duty to enhance it for him.
I bent forward to suck a nipple. Tasting the salty remnants of dried
piss reminded me of the piss bath he gave me, and I felt a stir, a nostalgia
to have him do it again. How satisfying it was that I had served him,
yielded to his whim.
He announced my waking him with my kisses, by a quiet moan. He placed his
hand on the back of my head and guided it down to where I intended to go
anyway. I smelled our spent passion as my nose traced through his body
hair on my way to the genital altar….Ah! I kissed it, licked it and
loved it with an uncontrolled spasm of lust. His cock was God and I
worshipped it with concentration.
I was his slave, and it was my duty to give excitement in every way.
But in an indirect way, he was my slave too, for sucking on his cock
caused his passion to rise, his need for me to grow, just as I willed
it to do. I tasted him, my tongue licking the underside of his balls.
Then I remembered his ass-hole and the pleasure of it, the exquisite
luscious passion that grew between us when he accepted my tongue into
this secret part of him. I slipped my tongue back into the forest of
redolent hair, smelling of piss and shit and spit and love-sweat.
Gently he pulled my head away.
Here, he said, Lay beside me.
I did, and he placed his arms around my shoulders drawing me to him.
He kissed me. His lips were moist and soft. His breath was sweet.
His tongue pushed its way inside and I sucked on it as it explored the
cave of my mouth. It was as though it were alive and independent of the
rest of him. Our tongues tangled in a love dance. There was passive
pleasure here, delicate and tender. A budding love nurtured between us.
We sucked breath into our lungs and teased each other with warm, pliable
lips, A luscious pleasure washed over us. Hot breath in my ear, echoed
his whispers of pleasure mingled with wet kisses. He sucked on my ear
as he whispered. His warm and moist breath delived a thrilling message.
I want to fuck now.
Yes Sir, I want you to, Sir. Let me take care of it, Sir. Please Sir,
just lie still.
I went to the table. The marijuana, rolled into tight little logs, was
there along with lubricant and poppers. I lit a joint and inhaled a deep
breath of it into my lungs. I handed it to him. The dim glow of the
flickering candle cast a pale light over him as he lay on his back,
looking at his own image staring back at him from the mirrored ceiling.
His erect cock, tremendous in size reached for it, and lust for it
overwhelmed me. ‘That cock is mine, that huge cock is mine.’ I said to
myself, and he is going to fuck me, to shove it up my ass.’
Bending forward, I kissed it, sucking away all the drudge and passion
that had accumulated on it, so that it would be clean when it entered my
rectum, my shitty ass-hole. Hunger for the fuck was growing. The horny
desire to feel that solid cock inside me was sending thrilling messages
of pleasure down my spine like the trigger of lightning.
I rubbed lubricant over the swollen tip of it and on the shaft. He was
watching every movement I made, appraising the actions of his filthy
slave. Then I put some in my ass-hole to make the entry easier. I was
worried for I knew there would be difficulty taking that huge piece of
horse-cock inside me. Then I took the amyl inhaler, full of excitement
like a genie in a bottle, and I climbed onto the bed facing him. As I
straddled his hips I saw the smile of anticipation in his eyes.
I lowered myself upon the turgid love-shaft. Looking at him, at his
beautiful naked body lying under me, I was too excited to feel the shock
of pain as he entered. My ass-hole pulled him into itself like a vaccuum,
so anxious was I to be fucked. Ah! We were joined together now. I sat
high in the saddle of his cock and balls and began my ride. Slow at first,
and then a gradual increase to a cantor. The pleasure of friction
increased with each moment, and the exquisite sensation expanded to
encompass not only my ass-hole, but my entire body.
The rhythm of the ride grew faster and faster with mounting ecstacy, and
all through the love and passion and pleasure, our eyes were locked
together trasferring sensation to love and they told us the climax was
near. Crashing symbols burst as we fulfilled our horny needs and exploded
our passion with impossible force.
The pleasure was so great that it could not satisfy us. When it was over
we wanted more. His cock remained hard in my rectum as I fell forward,
rubbing my chest in the cum accumulated there, and our lips met in a wet
kiss and he began to fuck again.
Thank you, Sir, I said.
I felt the comfort and security of his warm body as he tossed one leg
over mine and buried his face in the armpit. He licked at the hairs
that grew there, like a cat that washes itself. It tickled me. I
laughed abruptly from deep in my throat. His arm was around my shoulder.
The other, his hand dangling in my crotch, played with my cock. I pulled
his head away from the pit and reached my face down to his and our tongues
met in a lovely kiss.
Good morning, Sir, I said. I guess it’s morning. Seems like I’ve been
sleeping forever…….. What time is it?.
He rubbed his cock against my leg. Oh man! He was hard again. He must
have come at least six times last night. He stirred, raised from the bed,
then fell back down upon it.
It’s ten to two. We lost Saturday morning somewhere. You okay? he
asked in a tone that showed he cared.
Yes sir. I’m fine.
I stretched my body, luxuriating in the pleasure of his caresses and the
silk sheets and his wet kisses, as he licked me. I’m starving. All that
excerise got me hungry. Got the grass munchies too, and my mouth tastes
like a fucking cesspool. Other than that I’m fine sir.
He chuckled quietly to himself and began licking my chest, seeking a
nipple in the absolute darkness of the room. The final candle had
flickered in the last light somewhere during the long night. He stirred
again and reaching to the table he caused a peach-colored light to glow
softly about the room. I looked at him as he lay beside me looking at me.
Hello.
Hello Sir, I answered with a smile. I had forgotten how handsome he
was and remembering the night sent a rush of pleasure through me.
I don’t know your name, he said.
It’s Joe, Sir. Joe Wilson.
Well Joe, you’re something.
You are too, Sir.
He bounded out of bed with the whoop of the comanche. Come on Joe.
Let’s get dressed and get some chow. He turned to me and added, I got
some clothes you can wear.
Yes Sir, I shouted with happy excitement as I followed him.
It was late afternoon by the time we finished our combined breakfast and
lunch. We were resuscitated now. All the energies were put back into our
bodies. We spent the rest of the day in happy contentment, solidifying
a friendship that was growing fast and complete, discovering many mutual
likes and dislikes in music and food and art.
I accepted my roll of subservience because I knew that that was the way he
wanted it to be between us. And looking back upon it over the years,
I know that that’s the way I wanted it too. I was so in awe of the beauty
or him that a different role would have been impossible.
Neither of us spoke of what we did to each other the night before. It was
as though speaking of it would break the spell of it, and the excitement
of forbidden pleasures would be lost.
After a lovely twilight at the beach, watching the sunset, we had an
expensive dinner at Katsu on Hillhurst. Experimenting with the unusual
and exotic was the pattern of our relationship. Afterwards we took a slow
cruise down the meat-rack checking out the hustlers and the johns. I saw
the fire-plug that I claimed, noticing that it was unoccupied. Perhaps
he who had used it earlier in the evening, was now tangling legs and
tongues somewhere with a new lover. It was almost ten. I snuggled next
to Alex, my hand caught in his loins, feeling the bone expand. My
belonging to him was secure now.
It’s early. Let’s get a beer or two and watch the hunter catch his
quarry. A poetic statement for the evening.
Yes Sir.
The bar was crowded with the usual coterie of gays in their flamboyant
and outrageous costumes. He held my hand, the sign of possession, as he
pulled me toward the counter. With two Buds each, we drifted back
against a wall in a dark corner to watch the excitement of the night.
After we finished our first beer, Alex lit a joint and passed it to me.
It was quality. The marijuana washed over me like a giant blush.
Suddenly, all the erotic excitement of last night came together from
outer limits where I had suppressed it all day. In a crashing moment I
wanted it all again. All of it. I wanted Alex. I wanted sex. I wanted
his cock, and most of all, I wanted his anus, his luscious moist and hot
ass-hole.
Alex’s needs must have mastered him too, for I watched in fascination as
he opened his zipper and pulled out his cock, growing in size and
tumescence. He held it down with one hand so that the piss slit was
aimed at the empty bottle he held in the other hand. As he pissed his
stream into it, he seemed unaware that everyone around us was watching.
When the bottle was full he handed it to me. Words were unnecessary.
It was warm to the touch, and with my hand shaking with anticipation,
I raised the bottle to my lips and drank it all. Murmurs of approbation
mixed with approval surrounded us.
When it was finished, Alex whispered in my ear, Let’s go, and to
surprising applause we fled to the Corvette and drove home to the house
on the ridge in Silverlake.
You okay? he asked as he held my hand, entwining his fingers with mine.
Yes Sir. I almost creamed, but I didn’t.
His laugh was sudden and spontaneous. Yipes! he cried, and the car
spurted ahead.
In flickering candlelight we undressed each other. Slowly at first,
kissing lips and tongues, unbuttoning buttons and pulling down zippers.
Our hands slipped into warm and hairy places, touching bare skin and
solid muscles. Our eyes triggered the excitement growing in our loins.
Once naked, we assumed the attitude of lovers tenderly transferring loves’
pleasures from one to the other, sucking body parts into hungry mouths
like vampires; lapping on hot skin, sprinkled with smelly hair, still
redolent with the pissy shit of last nights’ orgy.
Somehow we fell into the contra position of the sixty-nine. My mouth
slipped over the cock and testicles to the bitter anus, softly yielding to
my probing tongue. His belly hair mingled with mine. Ah! This is what
I wanted, what I had been missing all day, my nose buried in his ass-crack
smelling all his secrets, the levels of sensation sharpened by
marijuanas’ smoke. Our ejaculate was timed for a mutual explosion of
exquisite pleasure that belongs only to lovers.
We rested a while. A brief moment in our sexual odyssey. Then passion
resumed its dominance, and we disappeared into our role of master and
slave.
The chrome and tile of the huge bathroom gleamed in the candles’ light.
Looking into the mirrored wall my image was reflected back. I was lying
spread-eagled, on a leather sling that hung from the ceiling, and rested
about three feet above the floor. My legs, spread apart, were raised above
my horizontal torso. I could see into the mirror on the other wall.
My ass was exposed, shorn of the hairs that grew there. My puckered hole,
pink and vulnerable, was open and available. He stood beside me with a
narrow anal probe, electrified and buzzing. The hum was barely perceptible,
like the wings of a butterfly, but it triggered a shudder of anticipation.
He touched it to my balls, and traced the vibrating tip of it up my hard
cock to where the foreskin had fallen back. Slipping over the glans to the
exposed tip, he rested it on the piss-slit. Excitement was short-waved
to all the erogenous zones. Pulsating pleasure spheres shot like darts
everywhere inside me. Then back to the anus, loose and dilating with
expected pleasure, he inserted it inside my rectum, deeper and deeper,
until finally it grazed againse my prostate.
Oh my god, Sir!
Don’t come.
Oh my god, Sir
Don’t come I said, and I mean it.
Pleae, please stop, Sir. Oh jesus god! I’m coming. Oh my god!
Don’t come slave. I said don’t come. I mean it ass-hole.
Oh jesus help me! I cried as the cum shot out of my cock.
I told you not to come. I ordered it, he yelled in a harsh and abrupt
scream, his words echoing against the hard walls of mirror and tile. How
dare you disobey me. You’ll be punished now. Each word was punctuated
by a resounding slap on my hip.
He unshackled my arms and legs, and helping me out of the sling he led me
to a table on a side wall.
Bend over, he said. Rest your arms on top. That’s it, lean on it, and
he picked up a paddle. Now baby, you’ll get it. I’ll teach you to
disobey me. Bend over, slave.
I’m sorry, Sir. He hit me, sharp and powerful, a resounding crack
shattered the quiet.
Apologize!
I’m sorry, Sir.
He hit me again. A stinging blow on my buttocks. Louder, he yelled
as he struck me again.
I’m sorry, Sir, I yelled back. I could see him relected in the mirror.
His cock was thrust forward, stuffed with passion. His body thrilled at
the beating, wallowed in lust that now dictated his every move.
And as each slap on the cheeks resounded, the sting of it caused a wonderful
warmth and pleasure in the heart of my balls and the core of my cock.
Oh my god, Sir, please, hit me harder. I’m sorry I disobeyed you. Hit me
harder, Sir. I deserve it, Sir. I’m sorry.
And the paddle came down on my ass in one more swipe of justice. He fell
to his knees and, grabbing me around the waist, he pulled my body to him,
slobbering over my ass. His tongue washed away the stinging hurt with
kisses, as a father would tend the wounds of his son. He slipped his
fingers into the crack between the ass-cheeks and separating them he
kissed my hole.
Ah Sir! I moaned. Ah! Ah!
He pulled away and raised himself from his subordinate position. I turned
to him and we were locked in a lovers embrace, welded together by a deep
wet kiss. Our cocks tangled in pubic hair, and he led me out of the
bathroom to the bed where he lay beside me. He looked at me, his eyes were
warm and glistened with tears caught in golden lashes.
I love you, he said as he exhaled sweet breath over me. And his lips
pasted circles of wet on all the parts of my chest and abdomen that they
touched, and then he kissed my cock, so proud in its strength and rock
hardness. The solid muscle rising out of its’ patch of hair as though it
had its own presence, independent from the rest of my body. And I watch his
reflection in the mirror as he licked my cock with his agile tongue
and deep throat. He pulled away, turning his head he looked at me.
Don’t come.
Yessir! I won’t come. Not now, Sir. And he worshipped my cock in all
the ways that he knew, and I didn’t come.
We drank beer and smoked grass and watched porn on the giant T V screen
as we lay together naked on the bed. Our hands and mouths built pleasures
plateaus, each higher than the last, and like the tower of babel, reached
to heaven.
It seemed that my concentrated hunger was centered on his anus, an addiction
to taste and smell, to suck on the pliable ass-hole that gave little
resistance to an active tongue or to probing fingers. By some muscular
power, he was able to raise his legs up into the air and roll them back
over his body. His ever ready cock, swollen with energy, hung above
his face. With a litte prodding of his hand upon his thighs, he was able
to lower the cock to where he swallowed it into his mouth. I watched with
envy and fascination as he fellated himself, his tongue working on the
smooth tight skin, over familiar ridges and curves and swollen blood vessels.
It was when he was in this contorted position that I separated the buttocks
and exposed the pink, throbbing, hair-covered anus. While his cock was
deep into his throat, my tongue was drooling in his rectum. His pleasure
was two-edged. It thrilled me to know I helped him achieve this extreme
level of pleasure. His control extended the wild sensation. He seemed to
know when to pull away from the brink of a realized climax.
When it was over we rested, drinking beer and smoking grass, we watched
videos of Christopher Rage and his perverted brothers perform ultimate
indecencies upon each other. Just as we performed them on ourselves.
But most exciting of all was the piss. That silky stream. Warm and
luscious. Flowing from his cock onto mine. It varied in its’ flow. At
first a dribble, slow to begin its’ evacuation from a full and distended
bladder, the yellow stream gained in intensity and soon struck my body
with a marvelous stinging sensation. The acrid ammonia stink of it
enhanced the excitement, for it was a reminder that this most intimate
action of one upon the other was forbidden. When the flow was at its’
greatest level, I opened my mouth to feel the pressure of it upon my
tongue, and most thrilling of all, the back of my throat where it triggered
a pleasure unique to the action. In addition to this overwhelming sensual
pleasure was the satisfaction of the psychological need. The need to prove
to my lover that I was in fact his slave, dedicated to give myself to him.
All the while that he pissed on me; in my hair, on my nipples and cock
and in my throat, I was his toilet.
The climax of our weekend came when somewhere in time, when the candles were
flickering their last shadowed light, he pissed into my rectum while he
fucked me. I sensed the flood, so warm and comforting, like a shot of rare
brandy. I had reached the limit of subservience now. I thought there was
no further I could go to prove my enslavement, but I was wrong. There was
one step left. One more attitude left to drag me into the pit of depravity
trapping me in a rising tide of lust.
When he eased his cock out, he yelled, Hold it.
Yes, Sir.
He fell onto the bed, lying on his back. Stand over me, he demanded,
and then, Okay slave, let it loose.
The piss and shit inundated him. The piss enema poured out and sprayed
over him like a tidal wave. He was covered with it. He was wet now,
interpolated with clods of little soft turds that were redolent and
excited me.
Get down, on top of me. Lay your body on mine.
I did, absorbing the stink of the hellish ablutions that pasted our bodies
together. I slid around in this pool of muck so that my pissy cock and
balls were in his face, just as his were in mine, and the sounds of sucking
and lapping and slurping were accented by the groans of need and giving.
We abandoned ourselves to the demons of lust. It was a depraved feast, yet
a feast of thanksgiving. As we sucked away the remnants of piss and shit,
sperm ejaculated from the hidden corners of our scrotums. The tensions of
the night had reached their final limit, and we drifted over the horizon of
time, into a deep and peaceful sleep.
I love you.
I love you too, Sir.
Somewhere between dawn and twilight on Sunday, we soaked our bodies in a
bubbling jacuzzi that washed away the filth. The searing water and fragrant
soap was scented with gardenia that dissolved traces of the nights’
experiments. We were clean and fragrant now. Our skin, silky to the touch.
He led me through a doorway and down the hall to another bedroom, clean
and fresh. A table by the bed hid a refrigerator filled with luscious
roast chicken and cold champagne.
We feasted. We chattered. We laughed. Neither of us mentioned the night,
dark with hidden secrets. The past was gone now. Only the future remained.
Licentious evils had been washed away and we began the dance of love,
innocent as children. Sweet and tender. It began with gentle kisses
and led us into a paradise that neither of us knew existed.
Nor would ever leave.
The End
