A kinky story written by Pete Brown | Chapter 7
Julie shook me awake the following morning with a big steaming mug of tea, and I lay there enjoying it – a real luxury, as we never got things like that in the army and certainly not in the slave hut! I hadn’t been woken with tea in bed since I left home.
Julie fussed around in the tiny kitchen that, as I’ve told you, was half open to the living room, and she started to give little Shane his breakfast, and get stuff like sausages out of the fridge. Then she came in and said “OK, Steve – go up and use the bathroom whilst it’s free. The breakfast’s on, and Dan will want to shower before he eats. He’s asleep now, so you get in there first…. He’s had a tough week, and he needs his sleep so I’ll let him lie in as long as possible.”
I thought I understood why Dan was tired, after the epic performance I’d half-heard through the ceiling the night before. But it seemed a bit unfair to think that he’d had a tough week – who did she think had experienced all the stress and strain of the Slave Show? And she’d evidently decided to close the door on the previous evening’s little row, as she made no reference at all to it. I put down my empty mug, and went to get up and remembered that I was naked as I’d taken Dan’s tight boxers off before getting under the blankets.
“Come on, Steve, hurry up!”, Julie said. “You can’t lie there all the day. I’m cooking you two men a big breakfast, and I don’t want it spoiled.”
She stood there watching me, then said in exasperation “Steve, get up, will you? You’re worse than Dan – he always wants to lie here until the last moment.”
When I still didn’t move, she sounded crosser. “I can see what Dan means now when he says that slaves can be an obdurate lot! Now get up, get up now!”
“Julie… Ma’am… I’m sorry. But I haven’t got anything on…. My clothes are over there….”
Julie went over to the armchair and picked at the pile of stuff I’d left there, and fished out the boxer shorts. She was about to hand them to me when she stopped. “These are Dan’s! Why are you wearing his underwear?”
She came over and stood in front of me, hands on her hips in a very commanding way. “Tell me, and tell me now, Steve, why you are wearing Dan’s underwear? Why did he take them off? Is there something I should know? He didn’t sell his body for sex picture too, did he….?”
“No! He was just being nice. After the photo shoot…. Well, I had to get back across the exhibition centre and I was naked, or almost so…. And , well, you know how it is after sex, when there’s no shower…. So Dan took them off, and let me wear them….”
“Are you lying to me, Steve? Lying to me, as men do from some misguided sense of loyalty to other men?”
“I think I believe you, Steve. You seem to be a nice man. But time is passing… Come on, get up….”
I went to take the boxer shorts off her so I could put them on under the blankets, but she gave me a mischievous smile. “No, Steve – just run up to the bathroom naked. It’s not as if I haven’t seen you naked before: after all, I did trim you…. And I’m going to buy ‘Slaves At Play’ next week…”
“Yes, ma’am. But…. Well, you know how it is for blokes in the morning when they wake up…”
“You’re telling me! Dan is always like that when he wakes up. But don’t worry – if the readers of ‘Slaves At Play’ are going to see you with a hard-on, I think I deserve a preview….”
I reached for the shorts, and she pulled them away, just out of my reach, laughing. “Come on, Steve! I know you won’t have anything to be ashamed of….”
There was nothing for it – in what I hoped would be a smooth gesture I threw the blankets off and made for the stairs, but you know how it is with blankets: they tangled somehow around my ankles so I had to hop around trying to break free, my cock bobbing up and down. Julie giggled.
Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was tiny and I could barely lever my big frame into the bath – but it was good to have a bath, rather than a shower. And there were lots of things around that I wasn’t used to – nice scented bath foam, two or three plastic toys for Shane, a collection of cheap make-up bottles on the window ledge… It was all so ‘domestic’, and I’m just not used to that.
The lock on the door was broken, I’d noticed, and as I was lying there wondering whether I’d dare risk wanking, Dan came in, rubbing his eyes, very obviously having just woken up. He was sporting a huge erection, and looked really embarrassed as he saw me looking at it as I lay in the water. “Christ, I need to piss…”, he muttered.
“Don’t mind me…..”
Dan shuffled over to the lavatory and it seemed to take a long time for him to get started before I heard his piss hosing down into the water – well, it does, when you have to get rid of the morning hard-on first, doesn’t it? I could see all of his back as he stood there, and I thought again, as I had when he’d taken off his stuff to give me his boxers, that he was really quite well put together – now I could see his bare shoulders as well as his bum and his legs as I had before, and the way he tapered nicely down to the waist, I thought that he didn’t have a bad body at all: a few weeks of exercises and he could be a proper soldier. I saw him shake himself dry, then he turned, and looked at me as I lay there in the water – I’d got my knees right out of the water in order to fit in the bath, and my cock was jutting out too, as I’d been thinking about wanking.
“Fuck me, Steve! That cock of yours.. Come on, get out of there as Julie’s got the breakfast on and there’ll be hell to pay if it spoils because I’m not ready.”
I stood up, my erection fading, and it was somehow very sexy – I’d been naked in the showers at the Show site with Dan, but here in this tiny bathroom, in these domestic surroundings, it was very different – I don’t know why, but my cock started to rise again. Dan saw this, and grinned. “You need to take yourself in hand, Steve….”
“The chance would be a fine thing….” I was towelling myself roughly as I said this, and bent down to pull the plug out and let the water run away.
“No, don’t do that… I need a quick bath….”
“It will only take a moment to fill… It’s not all that big…”
“Steve, think of the gas bill! You haven’t pissed in the water, have you?”
“Well I’ll use it then – it’s only like the communal bath at the football pitch, after all.” Dan took a step towards the bath, and put one foot over the side to step in. It was all so tiny and cramped that our two naked bodies couldn’t help touching, and my semi-erect cock wiped itself across his hip. Dan clutched at me as if to steady himself, and for a moment we stood there, suddenly “aware” of each other in some strange way.
I don’t know what would have happened if Julie had not at that moment poked her head around the door and thrust something at me. “Here, Steve – these are some old boxers of Dan’s, and a T of his. They’ll both be on the small side for you, but you’re probably used to that…. Your own stuff is in the washing machine, so we can send you home all nice and clean. Now you two men, for god’s sake get a move on, will you? Anyone would think you wanted to play in the bath, like little boys! Get in that water, Dan… And you, Steve, get shaved…. And I want you both downstairs in two minutes!”
It all seemed to be so natural, as Julie wasn’t at all phased about looking at us. But I suppose Dan and Julie were used to being naked in front of each other, and perhaps, as a slave, I didn’t matter at all. But I did feel vaguely uncomfortable at being so close to Dan, with both of us half erect, and with Julie in the room too.
Dan told me I’d better use his razor, and this simple act of shaving, standing there at the wash basin as Dan lay in the bath, seemed somehow to be very intimate – a bloke doesn’t usually share stuff like that with you, does he? In the army I was used to shaving with a lot of other guys in the communal wash rooms, but there you always had your underwear on, or had a towel wrapped around your waist. Here I was naked, as the towels they had were so small they wouldn’t fit around me, and I cold kind of feel Dan’s eyes looking at me as I did all those little manoeuvres you have to as you’re shaving – he would get a good view of my muscles as everything moved as I scraped away, and moved my head around in front of the shaving mirror.
Dan stood up then, and asked me to pass him a towel, and as I did so our hands touched. It was at once very intimate and somehow exciting for me to be handing another bloke a towel like that – I don’t know why. And there’s something about seeing a bloke dry himself that’s intensely private, isn’t there? Everyone does it differently – I towel my hair dry first, then my arms, and my chest, then rub the towel across my back, before doing my cock and my legs. But Dan was one of those blokes who want to do their cocks first – it’s silly, really, as the water from your body runs down on to it. But perhaps they like to surreptitiously “play” with themselves a bit first.
Julie was right – Dan’s stuff was tight on me, but the boxers and T smelt all fresh and clean with a faint perfume from the soap powder – at the site our stuff was washed but it never smelt like that, and it reminded me a bit of home. I’d got used to his boxers the previous day so I didn’t mind them too much, but the T was really stretched to accommodate my body as I’m very well developed, much more so than Dan, and I was conscious of my biceps straining the sleeves, the way that my nips stuck up through the thin fabric, and that shadow of all my chest and belly hair clearly visible through the taut stuff. Dan and I went down the stairs, and I realised that he went around in a T and boxers normally, as Julie didn’t seem to mind him being like that in the kitchen, so I stayed the same way.
Dan kissed Julie and Shane and sat down, and Julie impulsively came over and pecked me on the cheek! It was a long time, a very long time, since anyone had ever done that, and she smiled brightly at me. “Come on, Steve – sit down. You need a good breakfast, before Dan has to take you back to that dreadful slave hut, or wherever it is you have to live…”
“It’s not that bad, ma’am – it’s clean, and dry, and warm. And it’s Saturday, so we finish work at five…. And tomorrow they let us rest.”
“What do you do on your day off, Steve?”
“Nothing, really. We’ve got no money, so there’s not much you can do in London. I go for long walks, I might get to kick a football around in Hyde Park if I walk all the way across from the City…”
“You’re allowed out?”
Dan cut in then. “Yes of course he is! We treat slaves humanely, you know! Do you think we keep them chained up or something? There’s no danger of Steve or any of the others escaping and failing to come back, as we can track them with their microchip. Once a slave is chipped, that’s it – he can’t hide, can’t escape. And no one in their right mind would do an operation to remove a slave’s chip, as anyone found doing that would themselves be enslaved. So we let them do what they like on Sundays – there was a study done in 1940-something that showed that making men work in the war factories seven days a week was actually less productive than giving them a day off. And in fact, slaves are ‘safer’ than free men anyway: if there’s a robbery or a mugging or any other sort of crime, the police can ‘see’ which slaves have been in the area from looking at the tracking records, so no slave can really commit a crime. A free man can, though…”
“Dan, I didn’t realise you knew all this about slaves…”
“Jules, it’s part of the stuff you learn at university if you’re going into construction management. So much of the work on site is now done by slaves that a big chunk of the course is devoted to the care and management of slaves. And you have to learn all the legal stuff, too – the health and safety regulations aren’t as stringent as they are for free men, but the law still has a lot to say about how they’ve got to be given protective clothes, allowed a reasonable amount of sleep, not put under ‘unusual’ amounts of physical strain, that sort of stuff. There are heavy fines if the health and safety people find slaves being used improperly on the site….”
Julie nodded. “So which train are you going in on? I want you back here for lunch, as you promised to take Shane this afternoon to give me a break….”
I sat there eating the breakfast Julie had put in front of me as soon as I sat down – four big sausages, proper scrambled egg (all runny, and not hard, which is how you always got it on the site as it was made in advance and allowed to ‘sit’), three rashers of bacon, and beans. I had another big mug of tea, too, and I felt great. It was a pity that this talk of the site, and slaves, reminded me of my life: it had been almost easy to sit there and think I was just the same as them, and a mate of Dan’s who’d just happened to drop by at breakfast time.
Dan hadn’t been given as much as me, and finished first. He got up and said he was going to phone the boss to discuss splitting the prize money, and Julie pushed bread into the toaster and said she supposed I’d like toast and marmalade, and I nodded eagerly. She refilled my mug, and as we heard Dan in the background on the phone she looked at me. “I’m sorry, Steve…”
“That Dan treated you like that at the Slave Show… Doing all those things for the magazine….”
I sort of shrugged. “I know it sounds bad, and if suddenly Dan had to do it, now for example, it would be pretty traumatic I guess. But you have to remember that this was after I’d been exhibited, displayed, made to prance around almost naked…. So it was only an increment of the stuff I’d suffered, I suppose.”
“You’re such a nice man, Steve. It’s such a pity you’re a slave… If you’d been a colleague of Dan’s, I think we’d all have hit it off, and we’d have had you and your wife to dinner, and….”
“Well, that’s assuming I had a wife. I never met anyone when I was in the army…”
“A nice man like you? Handsome, strong… Oh, come on, Steve! I bet they were queuing up to go out with you.”
“You forget that in garrison towns – I was in Colchester and Aldershot and Catterick in my time – all the nice local girls are already ‘taken’ by the local blokes, and they kind of resent the army blokes… So it’s hard to meet people. I went in to the army at sixteen, which is when a lot of blokes start to meet girls, and I lost touch with all those at home and never really met those near the bases. And I was always abroad, on manoeuvres, or training, or ‘peace keeping’… And in most of those places soldiers are really not welcome. Either that or the women are all shrouded in cloth from head to toe as they’re superstitious and following some odd sayings said to come from the juju in the sky….”
“It sounds to me like a lot of excuses, Steve! Weren’t any of your fellow soldiers married?”
“So it’s not impossible, if you’d tried….”
“Well I suppose not, but…”
“But what? I’d have thought that a virile kind of man like you would have been in there, hunting…”
At that moment Dan came back in to the kitchen. “Jules, stop giving Steve a hard time! You women just hate to see an unmarried man, don’t you? When I brought John home that time you almost had him married off to one of your girl friends before we’d even had dinner!”
Both of them laughed, and Julie looked at me. “Sorry, Steve. But if you weren’t a slave, I could easily find several girls who’d gladly go out with you…. A lot of my friends have been married three years and the rot has set in so they’re looking for a new man….” She looked at Dan then: “Still, no danger of that here, is there, darling, with Shane, and the new baby on the way…?”
Dan came and put his arms around her and patted her swelling stomach, and kissed her. I looked down at my mug of tea, faintly embarrassed by this behaviour.
“So what train are you going on, Dan?”
“Oh, the boss wants me to meet him in Chelmsford – he’s driving his wife in to shop. And he says there’s no need to take Steve all the way back to London if I don’t want to and I can take him back on Monday if we don’t mind keeping him here for the weekend. We’d have to feed him, of course….”
I chipped in “If it would make it easier for you, you could leave me on the train from Chelmsford and I could make my own way from Liverpool Street to the site…”
Dan shook his head. “You’re not allowed to drive as we talked about yesterday, and slaves aren’t allowed on long-distance trains without their owner, either. No, I reckon we’ll keep you here. But I need to leave, as I want to be on the 09:20 to go and meet the boss…”
He turned to Julie then, and asked “Will you be OK here with Steve? You could take him to do the shopping as I’ll be away most of the morning….”
“Of course I will! All the girls will wonder how I’ve managed to lure a big, handsome man like that to come around the supermarket with me! It will get the tongues wagging…”
“In that case, we’ll leave Steve’s collar on. I was going to cut it off this morning, but if he’s taking you around the stores, everyone will see that you’re with a slave and there’s not even a hint of scandal…”
“Dan, do you ever think about what Steve might feel? Being made to go around like that, collared?”
“Jules, I told you last night: it doesn’t matter what a slave feels. He’s a slave, and that’s all there is to it. Now, I must rush….”
I sat there drinking my tea, eyes cast down, as I knew that if I opened my mouth I’d blurt out how fucking awful it was to be treated as some sort of animal, rather than as a man. And it wasn’t even as if I’d done anything wrong – I’d just been doing my job as a good soldier. There was no point in going on about it, though, as I was trapped by the whole fucking system, and there was nothing that Julie, or Dan, could do about it.
It seemed to take half the morning to get Shane loaded into his car seat and then for Julie to drive to the supermarket, and it was an odd experience for me to be in there: as a slave, there was no point in my going into such places in London as I had no money to buy anything, and when I was in the army I’d had no need as everything was found for me. Julie got me to push the trolley, and I did notice quite a few people staring at us as my very tight T and the green collar presumably shrieked “slave”, and I suppose they were wondering how a woman like Julie could afford a prime specimen like me!
The choice of stuff was amazing, though, and after she’d plundered the aisle for disposable nappies and stuff like that, Julie turned to me and asked what I wanted to eat. It was such a long time since I’d been able to make a choice like that and it took me a few moments to answer. “I haven’t had fish pie for a long time – they don’t do it on the site. Proper fish pie, that is, with salmon and cod and tuna and prawns and coley and muscles and hard-boiled egg and peas, with a big thick potato top….”
Julie smiled at me. “Dan doesn’t like it much – but you are our guest, so fish pie it will be. And for pudding?”
“My mom used to make Sussex Pond Pudding sometimes! I don’t suppose you know how to do that? I haven’t had it since I left home at sixteen.”
“Poor Steve! Why so early?”
It seemed a bizarre place to be having a conversation like this, but I told her “Well mom and dad split up, and then her new man and I didn’t see eye to eye….”
“Typical! You men! I suppose you were both trying for your mother’s attention. Still, let’s try and make this evening special for you. And tomorrow we’ll have a proper roast.”
I watched a little anxiously as Julie selected all the meat and fish and vegetables as the portions had been very small, as I’ve said. I tried to “help”, by handing her stuff, and she twigged what was going on. “You’re giving me more than I usually buy, Steve! You have got an appetite, haven’t you? And perhaps not just for food….?”
“Yes, ma’am… I work hard…..”
She smiled at me again and I began to feel like a man again, a man who could be interesting to an attractive young woman. I felt my cock stirring in my jeans, and stood there thinking that this wasn’t right – she’d got a young kid with her, and was pregnant…. And, anyway, if I did try anything and Dan ever found out, there’d be hell to pay.
We actually stopped to have a cup of coffee in the coffee shop at the front of the store, and it was a bit humiliating to have to stand there and have Julie open her purse and hand me the money so I could go to the counter and get it whilst she sat at a table with Shane. And it got worse, as since the last time I’d bought stuff like that, it all seemed to have changed: instead of just being able to ask for coffee, the serving woman snapped a whole lot of stuff about “latte, americano, cappucino…” which I didn’t understand, and then turned to the waiting queue behind me and said in a loud voice “You’d think that people who sent slaves would have the sense to train them, wouldn’t you?”. It completely deflated me, and those feelings of being like a man again evaporated as quickly as they’d come.
When we got home Julie asked me if I wanted to sit and read the paper. “That’s what Dan does on a Saturday usually – even though there’s all that stuff to be done outside. Still, he is tired after the week”, she added.
I looked out and saw a whole lot of paving slabs and bags of sand, cement and gravel. Julie came up behind me: “It’s been there for weeks! He’s supposed to be laying those slabs to make a bit of a terrace, and building a sand pit for Shane – but I don’t know when he’ll get around to it.”
“Can I help?”
“Well I suppose so… But Dan knows what’s to be done.”
“I do work in construction, you know! I may not be ‘managing’ it as Dan does, but I bet I’m a lot more practical at excavating and mixing concrete and laying slabs….”
“It would be good to get it done, as I’d like to be able to sit in the garden….”
Actually, there was a lot to be done! Like so many of those cheap developments the garden was just poor quality turf badly laid over what was effectively builders’ rubble and it was all in a pretty pathetic state. And there were odd slopes everywhere. So although I got stuck in it was tough going, and I was soon soaked in sweat and the tight T was now transparent. The sun came out and so I decided to take it off, and when Julie came out a few minutes later with a mug of coffee for me, I saw her admiring my body as I worked away.
“You really are sweating, Steve!”
I just grinned. “Well, it’s hard work. And I’d really like to work in shorts on a day like this, as these jeans are sticking to me.”
“Well I don’t think that Dan’s shorts would be any good to you – they’re all denim, and they don’t stretch like his boxers. You could just work in those, I suppose… The neighbours are away so no one will see over the fence.”
I thought about it for a moment, and I couldn’t see any reason why not, so I took my boots off, pulled my jeans off, and sat there putting on my boots again – forgetting the problem with the tight boxers and the open fly, until I realised that Julie was staring at my cock as it had popped out. I was so embarrassed, and sort of stuffed it back in as quickly as I could.
“I’m sorry….”, I muttered, feeling myself start to flush with embarrassment. Although why this should be, when only the day before I’d been virtually naked in front of thousands, I don’t know.
Julie gave one of those little laughs again. “I think those boxers suit you more than they do Dan, Steve! Don’t worry about it – as I said, it’s not as if I haven’t seen it all before, and much closer, too, when I trimmed you….”
This only made it worse, of course. It had been pretty dreadful having to kneel there as Julie had “trimmed” me, but that was before I’d started to talk to her. Now the thought that she’d done that stuff to me make me blush even deeper.
“Oh you are shy, Steve! I’d never have thought that of a big man like you….” Her tone was definitely teasing now.
I don’t know where all this would have gone if we’d continued, and she was a sexy lady that I’d not have thought twice about fucking if I’d met her in a bar. But I just couldn’t do it here – not in this tiny house, with Shane crawling around the floor, and the thought of Dan’s second kid inside her. So I smiled back politely, and shrugged as if to say “Yes, I am”, and got back to work.
Julie bought me a big plate of ham sandwiches out at lunchtime and we sat together talking about this and that – the sexy atmosphere of the morning seemed to have evaporated, fortunately, and I got stuck in again as soon as I was finished. But at about two thirty Dan got back, and I heard Julie say something like “Steve’s doing the patio and sandpit, as I’ve given up waiting for you to get around to it….”
He came out and looked a bit pissed off. “You’re not doing that right!”, he barked. “You haven’t got the levels right…”
I stopped swinging the pickaxe I was using to break up the builders’ rubble. “Sorry. I was just doing what looked right.”
“Well leave it to those that know, OK?”
I then realised what was wrong – I’d gone shopping with his wife, and now was doing a job for her that she’d wanted doing for a long time. Dan was jealous of me! Fuck knows what he’d have thought if he’d heard her flirting with me, albeit very mildly, a couple of hours ago.
Julie came out and made matters worse, I suppose, as she rounded on Dan. “Stop criticising Steve! At least it’s getting done, even if it’s not perfect! I’ve waited long enough, and at least Steve is getting stuck in to it, instead of sitting around all day with the newspaper, or watching TV! So if it’s not right, or not at the right level, or whatever, why don’t you show him how you want it done and let him do it?”
So Dan started to put pegs in to get the levels he wanted, and then, when I pointed out there was a whole lot more digging involved that way, he snapped “If you don’t think you can handle it, Steve, perhaps I’d better come and do it.”
He almost grabbed the shovel out of my hand and started digging away, and I watched for a couple of minutes, and started to use the pickaxe again. It was one of those man-to-man pissing competitions, I realised: we were both determined to do more than the other to “prove” we were the best. And if was unfair, of course, as there’s just no way a smaller bloke like Dan, who anyway was not used to prolonged manual labour, was going to succeed. But that didn’t stop him trying, and soon he too was striped to the waist as the sweat poured off him, and then he went indoors and came out a few minutes later in shorts. If it hadn’t been for my collar we could have been two ordinary workmen doing it, side by side.
Amazingly, we did get it finished, although it was going dark as we put the tools away. And I suppose we’d worked our aggression away, as Dan slapped me on the back and stood there with his arm around my shoulder. “Hey, Steve, thanks! Julie’s been nagging me about that for weeks – I owe you!”. He stopped then, though, and added “….but then, you are a slave, on loan to me, so I suppose you ought to have done it.”
I just shrugged, and Julie called out “Get up and have a shower, you two – the supper’s almost on the table.”
This was the second time today that Dan and I had been in the bathroom together, and as we pulled our clothes off we almost circled each other warily, avoiding bodily contact. Dan insisted I went first and I couldn’t help think that we was watching me as I stood in the bath under the shower head, then as I stood at the other end of the bath towelling off, he climbed in and went under the shower head so we were at opposite ends of the bath. I was dry by the time he’d done, but I continued to stand there as he dried himself, as I didn’t have any clean clothes to put on. I have to say I did wonder if he was deliberately showing off his cock as he stood there drying himself, but perhaps not, as he was of course married.
“I’d better get you some stuff”, he finally muttered, and climbed out and went to the airing cupboard, coming back having pulled some boxer shorts on, and handing me an identical pair. They were tight on me of course, but then we stood there looking a bit like a couple of brothers, I suppose. And Dan then said “Kneel down, Steve, as it’s time we got that ridiculous collar off you….”
So I knelt as he tussled with the tough plastic and the nail scissors from the bathroom cabinet – it took a lot longer than you’d expect, and all the time my face was pressed close to his belly, and I could see the outline of his cock quite clearly through the cotton of his shorts. You don’t usually get that close to another bloke, and having his hands playing around my neck was strange, too.
Once the vile thing was off, though, Dan gave me another of his Ts – still tight, of course, and asked casually “You don’t want your jeans, do you? At the weekend I usually slop around like this…. And you might as well do the same. Julie won’t mind – she’s used to seeing me, and you’ve got no secrets.”
So we sat around the kitchen table as Julie served the fish pie, getting sour looks from Dan as he moaned on about how she knew he hated stuff like that. But he did open a bottle of cheap white wine and gave me a glass, and even if he didn’t like the meal, I thought it was pretty fantastic. Afterwards Julie announced she was going to bed as she’d had a busy day and her pregnancy was a bit wearing, and she smiled at Dan. “You stay up a bit, darling…. Give me time to get off to sleep before you come up… I need my rest. And you’ve got Steve to entertain – but if you’re going to put one of those awful porn videos on that I know you’ve got hidden away, keep the sound down so it doesn’t disturb me!” She kissed him then, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek too, and went up the stairs.
“So, Dan… Secret porn?”
“Not so very secret, evidently. I only bought it as we’d got a stag night at the football club and they asked me to go down Soho and choose something for a bit of a laugh. I put it in a plain box when I brought it home, but Julie had some of her girl friends around one night to watch some sort of chick flick, and they stumbled across it….. Still, do you want to see it, or stick with the inane game shows they show on Saturday nights?”
“Hey, the porn of course! I’d like to see what you’ve chosen….”
Dan went and got us a couple of the cheap beers before he started the DVD player, and I have to say it was pretty hard – four women and two blokes, so we saw lots of action including some women on women stuff, which can be quite a turn-on. I was soon erect, and the tight boxers were really uncomfortable. After another beer or two, though, I decided it was fucking stupid to go on like that, so I let my cock escape through the fly and sat there stroking it gently, and seeing this, Dan did the same – it was just like being back in the barracks, really. And just like in the barracks we started to use the remote to flip backwards and forwards through the “good” bits, and freeze the action at key moments, and stuff like that. Well you know how it is with a couple of blokes and only one remote control – I tried to take it off Dan at some point and he resisted, and we had a friendly little tussle as we sat side by side, and almost playfully I grabbed for his cock to try to make him give it to me…..
It was as if the world stopped, because Dan’s hand went on top of mine, and held it there on his cock. Then he reached over with his other hand, and started to wank me. Well, there didn’t seem any harm in it as it was only like I used to do in the army, until I saw Dan wince.
“Sorry, Steve…”, he muttered. “These fucking blisters….”
I looked at his hand, and all along the base of his fingers and on the heel near his wrist, there were big puffy listers, some of which had broken and looked really angry. “I guess I’m not used to using tools all afternoon”, he said. “It’s really painful. And one just broke as I was wanking you….”
“That’s OK, I’m used to doing myself….”
I saw Dan looking at me intently. Then without saying anything, he slid off the sofa and knelt between my legs. His head came down, and his lips closed around my cock.
I don’t think he’d sucked cock before as it wasn’t a very expert blow job. But he licked and slurped at it, and tried to take it all down. And you know how it is when someone’s doing that sort of stuff to your cock – I just couldn’t resist putting my hands around his head and “urging” him to take more of me in, and those old reflexes – soon I was thrusting my hips up as I held him, so I was fucking his face properly. And to think that I’d been worried earlier on about even thinking of the possibility of having sex with his wife!
To be continued …
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