Date: Sat, 15 Apr 2006 00:14:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Slave Show, Part  Nine

THE SLAVE SHOW

By Pete Brown.   petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part  Nine

When we got "home" Julie came up and ran her finger
lightly around the collar.  "It suits you, Steve", she
said laughingly.

"Suits me? To mark me as a slave?"

"No, silly!  It's kind of sexy -  a woman would like
to play with that as she lay close to you in bed...."

"Not much chance of that, then", I muttered.

"Oh Steve, I am sorry.... I didn't mean.....  Look,
shall I get Dan to find a woman for you?  There are
some owners who want their female slaves to have
regular sex as it keeps them 'content', or so my
magazines always say.... If there's a any of them
around here, he could arrange for you to go over and
service them...."

"Julie, for Christ sake!  I'm a man.....  You can't
have someone else fix up for me to go and fuck...."

"Steve!  Mind your language!", Dan cut in.  "I won't
have you talking like that around here.  And it's not
such a bad idea, you know - you'll probably be
healthier, and in a better temper overall, if you're
getting regular sex:  it works for the male slaves as
well as the females, I guess.  And perhaps there's a
fee involved - it would be another source of income
from you.  And then there's always the possibility of
hiring you out as a pleasure boy for some older lady -
although I understand they generally want the younger,
twenty-year olds with slender bodies... But perhaps
some are looking for a real he-man to give them a
go..."

"Dan, please...".  I sounded helpless and pathetic, I
know.

"Steve's right, Dan!  You can't turn him into some
sort of prostitute!  It's one thing to get him to work
on the site, and the occasional photoshoot's all right
- everyone likes to look at pictures of handsome men,
after all, and we got him to 'show'.... But we can't
turn him into a prostitute, taking money to get him to
service women...."   I was glad Julie was on my side
on this one!

Dan just shrugged.  "OK, Jules.  But if I'm at a Show,
and I get offered a big stack of cash, I might
reconsider.  It's not as if it's illegal or
anything.... After all, if it was a dog we were
showing, and he won, they'd be lining up to pay stud
fees.  It's only the same sort of thing...."

"Dan, Steve's a man, not a dog!"

"No, Jules.  He's not a dog.  But you keep forgetting
- and I think he does, too - that Steve's not a man,
he's a slave.  And things are different for slaves."

"Daniel, I will not, I repeat not, have you sell Steve
off for casual sex!  For one thing, he might catch
something - and he's living here in the house, sharing
our things...."

"OK, OK! I hear you.  But if it's a really big chunk
of money, I'll still think about it.  Now, can we have
a mug of tea?  And I think Steve would like one, too -
'sexy' Steve, that is!"  Dan was smiling now and
kissed Julie lightly, and all seemed to be well.

Dan willingly took me to football the next morning and
this time I had nice clean fresh kit - Julie had put
two sets into Dan's holdall - and the other lads were
glad to see me again.  And in the showers afterwards
most of them wanted to feel my collar, too - I suppose
it was so unusual to see a bloke wearing stuff around
his neck now, and several of them could remember
having necklaces and stuff when they were kids before
the new laws came in.  As they stood there fingering
my collar the couldn't help brushing against me as
they were generally thinner and a bit shorter than me,
so had to stand close and reach out. And as they did
so I could feel their cocks brushing against my thighs
and bum:  it was amazing, really, how ordinary blokes
didn't seem to mind this, even though they leapt away
if they got too close to one of their mates like that.

Julie gave us a smashing lunch, made all the better by
the three pints in my belly which was spreading a
cheerful glow through me, but afterwards, once she'd
finished the washing up, she told Dan that she was
going to take Shane and go and visit her sister.  "You
men just lie around all afternoon, tired out and full
of beer", she explained lightly "And when I do make
you go out, you're all grumpy.  So I'll leave you and
Steve in front of the TV to sleep off lunch, and we'll
have supper when I get back."

Dan got up then and fussed around helping her load the
car, then came and sat back on the sofa by me and
flicked the TV on.  In spite of the excitement of the
game, the combined effects of the beer and the meal
made even me start to doze off, and it was having the
same effect on Dan, too.  Just as he had the previous
week  his head slumped on my shoulder, and soon his
whole body was leaning against me.    I was drifting
off into sleep, in that supremely comfortable state
when you're losing conscious control, and it was
somehow comforting to have his weight against me and
the warmth of him against my skin.

It was all somehow so companionable, and I felt all
safe and secure and kind of happy - well, a hard game,
good food, a few drinks.... You know how it is.
Then, and I could hardly understand what was happening
at first, I felt something around my neck, something
smooth and sensual, and after a few seconds, it was on
my lips.   I shot awake instantly and sat bolt
upright.  Dan was there, so close to me, and I
realised he'd been holding my face and was about to
kiss me!  He looked startled, and ashamed....

"What the fuck...?"

"Steve, it's OK....."

"Dan, what the fuck were you about to do?"

He sat there for a few seconds, silent, and then
almost whispered "Steve, it's OK.... I'm sorry.... I
forgot myself...."

"What do you mean?"

He was silent for a longer time then, and I could
almost sense the seconds ticking by.  Then that
whisper again.  "Steve, I like you...."

Another long, pregnant pause.  "....I wanted to touch
you, to feel you, to kiss you, Steve."

His voice changed so that he was almost sobbing, very
gently, now "...I'm desperate, Steve.  I've been with
you all week, watching you, having you close.... And
then in the showers today, seeing you there with all
the other lads touching you, and I couldn't as they'd
think it funny as I could touch you any time  I wanted
to here a home....  I can't stand it, Steve.  I can't
bear being this close to a bloke like you, and not
being allowed to touch...."

His head was down now, as if he was trying to avoid
looking at me, as if he was totally ashamed at what he
was saying.  We sat there in silence, and it became
almost unbearable: the silence was so profound - or,
rather, the silence between us was so profound - as
the TV was still blaring away its inanities in the
background, but neither of us was listening.

There comes a point when silence is actually painful,
and I could bear it no longer.    "Dan, it's OK...."

"No, it's not, Steve.  It's not OK.  I love Julie, but
I want you, too, Steve.  And it's not OK, as we can't
be together... "

I just sat there, wondering what the fuck was going to
happen now.  It was a s if a floodgate had opened,
though, as Dan went on and on.  "I picked you, Steve,
from all the other slaves.  I thought it was because
you'd be a good show slave, but I think I knew it was
because I fancied you, really.  Then I got to see you
naked, and to run my hands all over you.... Oiling you
for the show.... I thought I was going to explode I
was so turned on.  And having you living here, seeing
you when I wake you up in the morning, as you're so
sexy with that overnight growth of beard and the way
you smile as you sleep...  And having you in the
bathroom.... And seeing you erect at the photoshoot,
and watching you fuck....  And knowing all the time
that I can't have more, that it can't be me with you,
Steve...."

I felt so sorry for the bloke, as he sounded so
utterly wretched.  It was madness, or, rather, a human
reflex to try to comfort someone in trouble:  I put my
arm around him and hugged him.  "Dan, it's OK...."

Dan's hand came up and held my chin gently, then he
pressed his face close to mine.  I could feel his warm
breath on my face.  I wanted to move away, but
something stopped me.

He could feel my acceptance, I'm sure, and pressed
closer.  Then his lips were on mine:  I ought to have
been revolted, I ought to have been hitting out at him
and pushing him away.  But I didn't.  And then I felt
his tongue pushing at me, forcing its way into my
mouth.... And I responded.

Look, I've never kissed another bloke before.  And I
suppose I've never had a really passionate session of
deep snogging with a woman, either, as on most of my
one-night stands we get through all that sort of stuff
pretty quickly so we can get down to the real
business. And most prostitutes won't kiss you at all,
anyway.  So I had absolutely no experience of how
marvellously exciting it could be just to stay there,
mouths locked together, our tongues beating away as we
hungrily explored each other.  Reflexively, my arms
went around him, as if I wanted to hold him close to
me rather than push him away as I ought to have been
doing, and in turn his hand that was not caressing and
stroking my face went down and started to fondle my
crotch.  It was so wonderfully exciting that I moaned,
and as I did so, Dan seemed to accommodate me, pushing
his tongue deeper into me, and synchronising his
breathing with my own fast breaths as my excitement
quickened.

I'd never felt like this.  Never wanted another man to
be so close to me.  But there was no stopping now -
Dan's hand slipped under my T and ran up my belly, and
shivers of excitement went through me, and as his
warn, moist palm cupped my left nip I moaned again, as
I felt my body reacting my making my nip all stiff
under him - so stiff that it was almost painfully
sensitive.  I knew my cock was straining, too, and I
had to do something:  I broke away from him briefly so
I could tear my T off, and to my astonishment found
myself lifting his, too, to drag it over his head, not
caring if it hurt his ears as it went past!

And now our two naked chests were together, and I
entered a whole new world of sensuality - the feel of
Dan's chest hairs rubbing over me, the warm moistness
of his pits as my hands probed all over him, the moans
he gave when my fingers teased his nips and they too
became like pieces of stiff rubber to my touch.    Our
hands raced up and down, we embraced, hugged,
scrabbled, writhed.  We were making utterly
incomprehensible noises - somewhere in there was "Dan"
and "Steve", but a whole lot of other stuff, too...
mostly "Oh" and "Fuck", but it didn't matter - we knew
that was the language of lust, the way that two people
got close together.  Words don't matter - only the
tone, and the urgency.

We had to break off, as our passion was too great.  We
sat there, looking at each other, not daring to allow
our hands the delight of being in contact with the
other's body.  We were both sweating, and breathing
hard.

His eyes locked on to mine, as if challenging me to
say or do anything, Dan reached down and undid my
belt, and unzipped my jeans.  I knew instinctively
what to do, and pressed my feet to the floor and
raised my hips,  so he could pull my clothes down and
over my knees.  Then, once again, he head darted down
and his lips closed around my cock.

It was too much - the ecstasy of the feeling, the
brush of those warm moist lips that only moments
before had been kissing me.  I felt I was going to
shoot, but didn't want to - I wanted to prolong this
moment for ever and ever.  My hands raced over his
bare back, as I tried to "connect" with him even more,
and as he worked away at me my frenzy and lust rose.

I pushed his head upwards off me, quite roughly, and
as he sat there for a moment, looking startled, I
reached down and almost tore his jeans open, so that
he could then scrabble away getting totally naked.

There was no stopping us then - we locked arms, and
our legs writhed and intertwined as if we were  two
pieces of hot wax that wanted to be melded together
totally into one.  I could smell his scent, his sweat,
his maleness, and feel our two cocks brushing against
each other as we writhed around, totally consumed by
our passion.

And then he went  still, and responding to this, I
did, too.  He reached up and held my face, tenderly.
We lay there a moment, aware of the sensations running
through our bodies as they pressed close together.
Then he whispered quietly "Fuck me, Steve."

I didn't know how to respond.  I didn't know what to
say.  Somewhere, something said that I ought to be
forcing him away, cursing him, telling him I wasn't a
queer and I didn't fuck blokes.  But it was buried
deep, very deep, and there were other sensations,
other thoughts, other passions, passions that were
much stronger, that screamed at me to do as he said,
to consummate this period of passion in the only way
that men had.  I needed to fuck him, I needed my cock
to slide between his buttocks, to possess him totally
and completely, to  show him - and me - what two men
were capable of.

Now it was me who kissed him, and this time it was my
tongue forcing its way into his mouth.  And it was my
arms that enfolded him, my hand that went down and
massaged his balls, and stroked his warm, rock-hard
cock.  And as I did this, my other hand started to
explore the crack in his bum, my finger probing down
there, into the warmth and moistness where  I had
never gone before with any man.  He moaned when my
finger tip touched his pucker, and this only inflamed
my senses, and I renewed the frenzy of my kissing and
stroking of him.  And as he in turn responded to me, I
felt my finger slide into him, which only gave us both
further feedback as to what we wanted to do - no, what
we needed to do.

I broke away, and stood up, then reached down and
almost picked him up, so that I could lay him over the
arm of the sofa, feet on the floor, and his bum
pointing up to me.  He was muttering, almost
incoherently, "Yes, yes, Steve, please....." And now I
wanted to do it, no,  I needed to do it.  I'd lost all
my concerns for fucking a man.  I knew that this was
what men were meant to do - to show their love for
other men in the closest and most intimate way
possible.  But at the same time to show that one man
could control and dominate another - Dan might be my
owner, and have control of my life, but when it came
to fucking I was definitely the boss.

My cock was rock hard, almost painfully so, as I stood
behind Dan and pressed the front of my thighs forward
to press against his.  I pried his bum apart and held
it open with one hand, whilst running my cock down the
crack with the other - I almost shot there and then,
so intense was the sensation coming to me from my cock
head.  And Dan felt it too, as he was moaning
sensuously, and moving his bum as if to entice my cock
even closer.   I'd have wanted to play like that for a
long time, but I knew I did not have that time as I
was so intensely aroused and knew that my orgasm could
not be long delayed, so I positioned my cock head at
his sphincter, and began to push gently.

Dan was almost shouting now... "Yes, Steve, fuck me,
please, Steve.... Yes... Fuck me...." And this was
adding to my excitement.  But it's hard to make that
first penetration, isn't it, and I was afraid of
hurting Dan so I tried to push harder, to no avail.  I
had to pull back slightly and thrust my hips forward
with a great stab - Dan shouted, almost scaring me,
but my cock sent a shiver of sensation thrilling
through me as its head found that perfect tight warmth
that it so needed.

Look, Id like to say that it was all slow and sensual,
that it was the longest and best fuck I'd ever had in
my life - and I could say that and you wouldn't know.
But, in truth, it wasn't like that at all:  I started
to push my cock in as Dan gasped and moaned and cried
out, and when I was buried in to the root I leaned
forward so that my chest was in total contact with his
sweating back.  I bit gently at his shoulders and he
moaned in ecstasy, and I whispered "OK?"

"Yes.... Fuck me, Steve.... Please...."

So I did.  I wanted to be gentle, I wanted it to last,
but those of you who are aggressive tops will know
that it's simply not possible - well, not the first
time in a night, anyway:  you can slow down on the
third or forth fuck, but on the first, once you've got
started, you can't control yourself, can you?  Well,
I can't, and I began to thrust hard into Dan,
revelling in the slapping sound as my body crashed
into his bum, and even enjoying that wonderful pain
from my balls as they crashed forward into him on each
stroke.  I could hear Dan starting to shout, and that
only added to my excitement, and I knew I had him
under my control, helplessly skewered on my cock.  I
thrust away, but knew that it was all over - I gave a
great shout, to match Dan's, as my balls contracted
and my spunk shot up into him as my back arched and my
head was thrown backwards.

I only stood there an instant before I again fell
forward on to him, grabbing his sweaty arms and
running my hands up and down them in passion as I
pushed my face down between his neck and shoulder.  I
was laughing, crying, moaning, muttering incoherent
words, I was so happy.  And Dan was too -  he did his
best to turn his head to face me, and his mouth was
grappling towards mine, trying to seize my lips and
bite at me in the fury of our shared passion.

Time seemed to have no meaning, but at some point I
pulled my now shrunk cock out of him, and being
disgusted by the ass juice all over it, loped up the
stairs to clean myself up in the bathroom.  I did one
of those long, introspective looks at myself in the
mirror above the washbasin as I washed my cock,
staring into my own eyes and wondering what I'd really
done, and what I should make of it.  And what did I
now know differently about myself?  But I was still
too inflamed with the sheer joy of what we'd done to
delay long, and I almost ran down the stairs to throw
my body alongside Dan's, who had now sprawled full
length on the sofa.

We kissed, we stroked each other, we explored our
bodies, revelling in the maleness of each other, all
the time whispering and giggling as if we were
schoolboys who'd just discovered a fabulous secret.
If only you could stop the clocks, this is the moment
I would have chosen - I was totally, utterly,
completely happy in a way that I had never been
before.  Not only had I had the most perfect sex, but
now I was sharing this complete intimacy with another
man who was revelling in it as I had been.  I had
never had sex before where both partners were so
completely in tune with each other, and with what had
gone on.

The world does not go away though, does it?  Dan
suddenly went quiet, then serious.  He lay in my arms,
our legs intertwined and our cocks pressed close
together, and I knew it was over as he stopped rubbing
himself against me and caressing me.

"Oh fuck, Steve!  What have we done?"

"Pretty good sex, if you ask me...."

Dan was quiet, and I could feel the tension building
in him as he realised the implications of our love
making, and began to see a horrible future.

"Steve.... Look.... There's a problem...."

"You mean you're worried I'll tell Julie?"

One of those long ominous silences, then, in a tiny
voice, "Yes."

"Dan, don't be so fucking stupid!   We've just done
the best thing that two blokes can do, I reckon.  I've
just had the best sex I've ever had.... You're special
to me, Dan.... I wouldn't do anything like that, to
hurt you.... Or to hurt Julie:  she's good to me, Dan,
treats me like a man, not like a slave.  I don't want
to hurt her, to split you two up, especially a she's
going to really need you with the baby coming... And
what about Shane?  He needs a dad, and you know that
would be almost impossible if a divorce judge heard
you'd been fucking with guys...."

Dan lay there in silence for a few moments. I think my
words had added new terrors to his own.  "But you're
my slave, Steve.  How can I treat you like a slave,
when we've just done all that..."

"Well, I understand it's not unknown for owners to
fuck slaves.... It's a bit unusual perhaps for the
owner to like taking the slave's cock... But I guess
it's possible to let life go on."

Dan was silent for a few more moments, as he thought.
Then he pressed himself close to me, took my face in
his hands, and looked deep into my eyes.  "But it's
not like that, is it, Steve?  This wasn't an owner and
slave just having a bit of casual sex.  It was more
than that for me.... And I think it was for you too,
wasn't it?"

I felt my voice shaking.  I wasn't used to this.  I'm
Steve, big, strong, I'm-in-control, tough, Steve.  I'd
never fucked a bloke for pleasure before tonight, and
now I was being asked to say that it was good - no,
more than that:  that it wasn't just the sex, but
something else between us.  I didn't say things like
that to other men.  Not me, Steve, Steve who fucks
women, Steve who brags about his prowess.  I didn't
say, couldn't say, that I liked the feeling of another
man against me, that I revelled in the sensations that
Dan's body caused mine, that I was excited to have him
close to me like this.... Men didn't say these sorts
of things to each other.  At least not in my world,
the world of tough men:  that was what queers did,
falling in love with other blokes....   And as that
thought went through me, I groaned:  the awful
realisation struck me that this might be what had
happened.... No, it couldn't be - two men couldn't
just do that, couldn't "fall in love", especially
after just one fuck, magic though it was.  But of
course I'd lived with Steve, seen him at close
quarters, as another man would not have seen him.  I
hated the way he treated me as a slave, yet I
respected how he was doing it to try to make a better
life for his family.  I realised this was stupid - I
was all screwed up.  I wasn't thinking straight.  And
then the realisation that perhaps that's what "love"
does to you - it stops you thinking straight....

"Dan.... That was a great fuck.....", I managed to
say.  But I couldn't make myself say more.  I wanted
to, I think.  I wanted to tell Dan that I loved him,
but I never used that word, had never used it before.
And I certainly had not even thought of using it to
another bloke.

Dan turned his head away, and I knew he was bitterly
disappointed.  "Yes, a great fuck, Steve", he
whispered.

I wanted to kiss him, wanted to crush him tight to me,
wanted to tell him I loved him... but I couldn't.

Dan untangled his body from mine, almost coolly
pushing my arms off him and my hands away from his
body.  "Come on, Steve.... Let's open a window or
something.... It must reek of sex in here...."

We dressed in silence, almost deliberately avoiding
looking at each other even though our bodies held not
the slightest shred of mystery from each other now
(not that there had been much before, after all, as
we'd been naked together.  But there's that special
intimacy, that special revelation, that only comes
after sex).  And when Julie came home we were both
sitting primly, side by side on the sofa, watching
some American football game on the satellite - I don't
know whether I couldn't make sense of it because the
rules seem incomprehensible at the best of times, or
whether my entire brain was still focussed on trying
to understand what had happened to us just an hour
before.

Dan gave me my cue, though, as he just treated me
perfectly normally for the rest of the evening -
correcting me when I inadvertently swore when we were
eating the delicious supper Julie made for us, never
asking me what I wanted to watch on TV but clicking
channels whenever he chose to, and then telling me not
to watch TV any more as he and Julie went upstairs, as
we had to be off early the following morning as usual.

I lay there in the dark, unable, or perhaps not
wanting, to sleep as I tried to make sense of what had
happened.  But of course I couldn't.  And it was no
clearer the next morning when Dan shook me awake as
usual, shouted at me to pull my clothes on quickly,
and we raced to the station for the train.  Still, now
I had my collar on I noticed Dan simply slept all the
way into London - little weedy blokes getting on and
seeing me sitting there with the glint of steel
showing in the neck of my polo seemed to take a
perverse pleasure in commanding me to give them their
seat, without Dan needing to intervene.

It was like that all week, too - "routine":  get up,
train to the site, slave away, rush to Liverpool
Street, supper, and sleep.  Dan made no mention of
what had happened, and it was as if he had erased it
totally from his memory.  I almost began to doubt my
sanity, wondering if it wasn't just some sick fantasy
that I had imagined, some perversion my brain had
conjured up to make my life a little more tolerable.
But on Friday we got away especially early, and caught
the train half an hour before the one we normally
raced for.  We left the station as usual, owner and
slave, and began to walk briskly home along the
footpath and lane - until about half way Dan suddenly
stopped, took my arm, and pulled me off the path into
the woods.

It was dark by now, and we stumbled in the grass,
until we were no longer visible from the path. Then
Dan threw his arms around my neck, and began to kiss
me.

I couldn't help it.  I responded, my own passion
driving my tongue deep into him, and my hands
scrabbling at his back as I pulled his shirt out of
his trousers so I could get my hands on to his skin.
I felt his hands tearing at my jeans, desperate to get
at my cock, and I too went at his, my need to feel
him, hard and warm, overcoming all my inhibitions.  We
were almost in a frenzy, until Dan muttered "Easy,
Steve.... I can't go home with torn clothes....", and
that stopped me.  Stopped me dead.

"Dan, what the fuck are we doing?  You're on your way
home to your wife, for fuck's sake?"

"Steve, I want you.  I need you.  I don't know how
I've managed to keep my hands off you all week....
This is our only chance, as we got away early.  And
all weekend we're going to be busy, at the Essex Show
at Clacton....  I need you, Steve... Come on...."

"No! It isn't right..."

"Not right, Steve?  How can anything that two men do
together willingly not be right?  I'm not forcing you,
am I?  I didn't notice me having to order you, as a
slave, to have sex last Sunday night.  And it wasn't
just sex, was it, Steve?  I know it wasn't for me, and
I don't think it was for you, either...."

I mumbled "No, Dan... You're on your way home...", not
wanting to address his point directly.

"But it's you I want, Steve."  Dan was silent for a
moment.  Then it sounded as if he was straining,
reaching for the words.  "Look, Steve, I love Julie.
And Shane.  And if I had my time over again I wouldn't
change that. Not any of it.  But now I've met you,
Steve, and I.... I....  I love you, too."

"Dan, you can't fuck with me, and then go home to
Julie....."

Dan's face was still very close to mine.  He leant
forward and kissed me again.  "Steve, you don't
understand... You can't understand.... You're a bloke
who's always been in charge, always had the courage
and strength to do whatever he wanted.  And people
think I'm the same - I had to struggle to get to
university and work bloody hard, and carry on working
hard to get a good degree...  And then I met Julie,
and against all the odds  I got her to marry me....
And people see me struggling now to make it right for
her and Shane and the baby, and respect me for it....
But I'm not like that, really, Steve:  I do it all
because I have to.  I'd rather just lie quietly
somewhere and let the world go past.  I hate making
the running, hate having to make decisions all the
time, hate having to take responsibility for my
family.....  I can force myself to do it, as it's the
right thing to do, but I hate it."

He stopped for a moment, sucking air, in the grip of a
tremendous emotion, and his voice lowered as he went
on "And then I saw Steve, and thought of this plan to
make money, and bought you.... All the time being 'in
charge', 'making the running', 'making all the
arrangements'.... Until last Sunday.  And that was the
first time for a very long time that I relaxed, that I
had perfect happiness, that I let someone else take
charge, let someone else make the decisions, drive the
whole thing.... Whilst I just did what I long to do,
and let it all happen to me.  You can't understand,
Steve, as you're not like that:  you just take charge
naturally."

He paused again.  "Look, you're a natural at taking
charge, and you just do it as you can't imagine any
other way of doing things.  And so for you, being a
slave is terrible - every time someone gives you an
order and you have to obey, you hate it.  I've seen
you on the train, when you have to stand up for some
little jumped-up prick....   But it's only the
occasional things like that, isn't it?  For most of
the time you do what you want - we say 'dig that
trench', but you decide exactly how... You're still
mostly in charge of your life.  But for me it's
perpetual, it never ceases:  I have to be in charge
all the time, and I never get a moment off to do what
I like - to let someone else run things.  Imagine how
you'd feel if every single thing you did was
controlled by someone else - well, for me, it's like
that:  I never have a moment 'off'.  Until last
Sunday...."

He was quiet now, and his hand dropped away from me.
"Anyway, come on... We've got to get going.  Julie
worries if I'm late....  It was just an impossible
dream, I suppose.  I'll have to live with just that
one moment of perfect happiness, as that's all I'm
going to get. "

I felt sorry for him, but at the same time I wanted
him.   No one had ever told me secrets like this
before - well, you just don't talk like this to your
mates in the army!  And the way that Dan had been able
to be so truthful with me just deepened my liking and
desire for him.

Before he could move away, I wrapped my arms around
him.  "I'd hate to worry Julie, too, Dan - you know
that!  But I've got a cock here that hasn't had a work
out today, unlike the rest of my body, and it's just
aching....."

We realised that we'd have to stop laughing so
deliriously and making such joyous noises as we
fumbled with our clothes, as we were still so near the
footpath.

End Of Part Nine