Date: Sun, 1 Jun 2008 17:04:00 +0000
From: Toppo Potto <banana-dino@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Bishopsgate

Mark came to us from a Craig's List advert. His ad was short and sweet, and
described in slightly embarrassed terms his desire to have some
no-strings-attached fun with other men. He described himself as straight,
and inexperienced, but expressed interest in submitting to a couple of men,
so sounded ideal for Tom and me. He also sounded pretty amusing. Mark and I
corresponded for a day or two, and then on Friday afternoon we swapped
photographs and mobile phone numbers. The photo showed a good-looking,
dark-haired guy in his late twenties, in a dinner jacket, arm round the
shoulders of a girl whose face and torso were carefully blocked out.

His voice was light and masculine; he had a slight Lancashire accent. We
chatted for a few minutes before he casually mentioned that he was on his
own that night.

"Oh yeah? Has the missus left you?" I asked.

There was an embarrassed laugh. "Not exactly. I mean, my other half's not
here tonight, but she's only away on a hen weekend. Brussels," he added.

There was a brief pause. "So I was wondering if you wanted to... er... get
together, maybe?" His voice tailed off.

"Sounds good," I said. "Fancy a curry? Maybe a couple of beers, and then
see what happens, eh?"

"Exactly," Mark agreed.

I considered for a moment. "Can you speak?"

"Yeah, I'm in the lift lobby." He laughed. "If I go quiet you'll know that
someone I work with has just come out of a lift."

"OK. What do you want tonight?"

Mark laughed briefly again. "That's sort of obvious, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I'd quite like to hear you say it. Tell me what you want."

When he spoke again his voice had dropped; he sounded furtive and tense. "I
want sex."

"Really? Do you want to suck cock?"

"Mmm."

I spoke clearly and crisply. "I want to hear you ask for it, Mark. What do
you want?"

I could hear his breathing deepen as he brought his mouth closer to the
phone. "I want to suck cock," Mark muttered into the mouthpiece.

I smiled. "Good. You're definitely going to suck cock tonight. Two cocks,
in fact. Have you got a hard-on?"

"I have now, yeah." It was barely a whisper.

"Good boy. You're at Bishopsgate, aren't you?"

"Just off, yeah." His voice was trembling slightly.

We agreed a time, and I described a rather good Indian restaurant a few
minutes' walk from his office in the City, where we agreed to meet.

Just before ending the call, I casually said, "OK, well, you've got a
couple of hours till we meet. I suggest you spend the rest of the afternoon
fantasising about sucking cock."

Mark laughed shortly. "No danger of getting any work done this afternoon,
now, is there?"

I met Tom at Liverpool Street station after work and we strolled west along
Bishopsgate to the restaurant. It was half-full, but we had no difficulty
in spotting Mark, who was in a pinstripe suit, drinking a pint of lager and
reading a free newspaper. He was slim and tall, perhaps about six-one, with
a firm handshake and liquid brown eyes. With short, spiky hair he looked
younger than his photo, and turned out to be twenty-five, from a Lancashire
coastal town, and working for a huge financial institution. He was engaged
to an Essex girl called Claire, whom he had met at university, and they
lived together in a flat in Woodford Green.

Mark was extremely funny, and very sexy: I found myself looking at the dark
hairs on his wrists and wondering if that meant his thighs and calves would
be hairy when we finally had him stripped. At one point he turned in his
seat and I saw one hard, round little nipple silhouetted under the thin
blue cotton poplin of his shirt. For a moment I was distracted, imagining
myself pinching it until he gasped, then flicking it with the tip of a wet
tongue while it became stiff and erect.

After the waiter had cleared away the debris of three thalis, Mark excused
himself, stood up and walked to the loo. Tom and I both watched him go; I
was admiring his firm, beefy thighs and broad shoulders. When I looked back
to Tom he was smiling enquiringly. "What d'you think?"

"A definite yes. What do you think?"

Tom nodded. "Oh yeah. And he's definitely up for it." He grinned. "Let's do
it, then."

On Mark's return to the table I waited for him to sit down and put his
napkin back over his lap before turning to him with a broad smile. "I'm
going to make you get up again, now, I'm afraid, Mark."

He smiled slightly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You see, I need you to go back to the loo." I dropped my voice. "I
want you to go back to the loo and take off your pants, and then bring them
back to us." I sat back and looked expectantly at Mark.

Mark stared at me for a moment, then his glance flicked to Tom. He nodded
very slightly and then stood up. I could see a discernable bulge in the
crotch of his suit trousers. "Back in a moment," he said lightly, and
walked quickly back towards the gents.

Tom took a sip from his lager and raised an eyebrow at me.

On Mark's return his hard-on was obvious, pushing out the material at his
crotch in an obscene bulge. He had a pair of white trunks balled up in his
fist, and dropped them into my hand as he slid back into his seat; they
were still warm. "As promised," he said breathlessly. I could see that his
hand was shaking slightly with excitement as he took a gulp of beer.

Tom leaned closer to Mark. "You're very hard, now, aren't you?" he asked
conversationally. Mark blushed a deep red. "Very," he said shortly.

Tom nodded sympathetically. "We should probably finish our drinks and
stroll back to our place, then." Mark said nothing, but drained the rest of
his lager and sat back in his chair expectantly.

"And then while we're walking I can explain exactly what else you've got to
look forward to," I observed. I raised the balled-up underwear to my face
and took a deep sniff from them, breathing in clean, warm cotton, fabric
conditioner and a slight hint of ball-sweat. "Very nice," I added
appreciatively, before handing them to Tom.

The walk back to our flat took about fifteen minutes through the twilight.
I led the way, with Mark and Tom walking behind. For Mark it was made more
interesting because he was walking with a hard cock, and without underwear,
his suit jacket carried casually in one hand. Every step he took rubbed his
erect penis against the scratchy wool flannel of his suit. And he was in
any case moving awkwardly because of the way that his hard prick pushed out
the front of his trousers, making it perfectly obvious to anyone passing
that he had an erection.

I helped Mark maintain his erection by keeping a teasing running commentary
as we walked along Bishopsgate and up Shoreditch High Street. "...and then
we're going to take some time rimming you, Mark. Have you ever been rimmed?
No? You can't persuade Claire to? Well, I think you're going to enjoy
it. I'm going to have you down on all fours, and while you lick the sweat
off Tom's balls, I'm going to be licking your arse-crack. Not just licking
it, I'm going to get my tongue right up inside your arse to get you nice
and wet. The wetter you are, the easier it's going to be to slip my fingers
up inside you and give you a good, long finger-fucking. How many fingers
would you like me to start with?" I asked politely.

Mark's face was scarlet with a combination of shame and arousal. "T-two,"
he stuttered.

Tom cocked his head to one side. "Two what?"

"Two fingers. Please."

"And where do you want them, just for the record?" Tom asked loudly, as two
girls came towards us on the pavement.

"Up my arse," Mark hissed. He instinctively moved his suit jacket in front
of his cock to hide his hard-on as the girls grew closer.

"Mark," I said in a warning tone. "Keep your jacket by your side, please."
Mark set his jaw and looked bleakly forward, his jacket held at his side as
instructed, and his stiff prick jutting out shamelessly. The girls, of
course, noticed nothing.

"You're going to be spending the first twenty minutes or so on your knees,
I'm afraid," I continued conversationally. "Tom will need you to give his
cock a really good sucking. He produces lots of precum, so you'll get to
taste plenty of it. In fact, his bell-end's probably dripping already."

"I know how he feels," Mark muttered.

"Silence from the cheap seats, please," I admonished him. "Now, after
you've cleaned Tom up, you can make a start on me. I'm going to make you
concentrate on my bollocks first; really give them a good tongue bath. I
want you to lick all today's sweat off my nuts; I've been running round all
day, so they'll be really sticky and sweaty. Run your tongue all over them:
you need to taste all the salt and juices. When I think you've done an
adequate job you can start on my cock. I'm not going to be gentle with you,
though. In fact, I'm going to choke you; pull your head onto my cock by the
hair until you take every inch into your mouth."

Mark made an involuntary whimper of desire, and I saw his fingers clench.
"Every inch," I repeated softly. I said nothing for a moment or two as we
walked along Hackney Road. "Have you sucked cock before, Mark?" I asked,
genuinely curious.

He hesitated. "At university, a couple of times with this one guy. We got
pissed once or twice and ended up swapping blowies. Fucking amazing."

"Well, I'll expect a good one from you, then. Your mouth up and down my
shaft while you're on your knees." He nodded. "I'll force your head down to
the very last hairs and make you swallow every inch of my cock. And be
warned, if I think you're not trying, I'll slap your face until your eyes
water. Is that understood, straight boy?" Mark nodded again.

Tom cleared his throat. "Are we going to spit-roast you tonight?" he asked
casually.

"God, yes please," Mark said.

"Whose cock do you want up your arse first?" Tom enquired.

Mark considered. "I'm easy." He half-laughed and then cleared his throat.
"I guess that depends on who's got the biggest cock, doesn't it? I mean,
I'm not sure if I can start off with a big one."

I slowed my pace and we halted at an alley running down towards Arnold
Circus. "Let's go down here for a couple of minutes." The alley was dark
and unlit, cobbled, and smelt of stale piss; its walls were covered in
graffiti. I stopped next to the fire exit from a bag warehouse and turned
to Mark, who stood, looking slightly wary, but with the hardon thrusting
out from between his legs betraying his arousal. "Face the wall, please,
Mark," I said gently. He turned with alacrity and I moved to stand behind
him, admiring the curve of his arse under the dark wool of his business
suit. I took the jacket from his hand. "Now lean forward and rest your
hands on the wall." He did so. "Higher."

His spreadeagled arms showed dark half-moons of perspiration soaking his
shirt under the armpits, and I imagined the dark, wet hair coiled there,
slick and warm with sweat. I moved closer and gently forced his legs apart
with mine. His calves were hard and muscular, and trembled against my
legs. I lightly ran a finger down the side of his chest, feeling the bands
of muscle and hard ribcage, and then along the waistband of his trousers to
the small of his back. I leant forward and breathed in his cologne, then
put my mouth to the back of his neck and briefly licked the shaved,
suntanned skin above his collar. He tasted good. I felt his legs tense and
heard a whistle of breath as he breathed in sharply. From the corner of my
eye I could see Tom kneading his own crotch absently, watching with a
half-smile.

"You know, Mark," I whispered, "they say that one of the sexiest parts of a
man's body is the downy moustache on the upper lip of a boy who has never
shaved." I licked again at the bristles on his neck and heard him exhale a
moan, barely voiced. "I got my sister's skinny little plasterer boyfriend
pissed when we were sixteen, just so I could see what his moustache was
like to run my tongue over when we snogged. It was sexy, but I'd rather be
biting..." I nipped at his neck and made him jump, "...the neck of a real
man any time. Preferably while I'm fucking his arse."

Smoothly I ran my thumb down the line of Matt's arse-crack, finishing with
my thumbnail thrusting into the warm, damp material gathered just behind
his balls. He gasped and arched his back, eagerly forcing his arse back
towards me. "You dirty little slut," I hissed, and bit his neck again,
harder this time. He froze. I slowly wiggled my thumb, moving it back up
the crack of his arse until I judged that it was closest to his ringpiece.
"This is what you want, isn't it? You're looking for cock inside you. You
want to be fucked, don't you? Another guy's stiff prick sliding deep inside
you, in and out of your arse." He was nodding like an automaton and I could
hear his breath coming in sharp pants. I gave his arse a sharp jab and Mark
exhaled through his teeth.

I removed my thumb and stood for a moment behind him. The small of his back
was matted with sweat, darkening his shirt and gluing the cotton to his
skin. I placed the palms of my hands deliberately and firmly on his hips,
holding him spread-eagled in front of me. I could feel him trembling like a
scared pony. "Is your cock stiff?" I asked him softly. He nodded vigorously
but said nothing. "So is mine", I whispered. Gently I leant forward,
letting him take my weight, until my erection grazed his arse. He made a
choked noise that sounded like a sob. "What do you want, Mark?" I hissed by
his ear.

"Oh, fucking hell, I want your cock inside me. I really want you to fuck
me. I want you to take me home and fuck me hard," he gasped. He rubbed his
arse frantically against my hard-on and I drew back slightly, leaving him
wiggling his arse helplessly like a bitch in heat.

"All in good time, sunshine," I said. "There's plenty for you to do before
you get fucked." Tom laughed. "Let's keep walking".

Mark was slightly unsteady on his feet as we resumed our stroll, his legs
shaking. I walked alongside him, Tom in the lead. Mark cleared his throat.
"What are you going to do when we get back to your place? I mean, what
are..." he paused; "what have I got to look forward to?" He looked
seriously at me and I admired his full mouth. I knew that later that
evening those kissable lips would be stretched around my hard prick,
working frantically over my helmet and up and down the veined shaft of my
cock; while Tom's sticky precum would be smeared, glistening, over the dark
stubble on Mark's chin and upper lip.

"Well," I began, "when we get home I suggest we have a nice cup of
tea. Then maybe you'll spend some time on your knees. We'll get that shirt
off you, and you can do some cocksucking on us both, stripped to the
waist."

"Hands behind your back, though," Tom interrupted. "We don't want you
touching your cock until we're ready."

"No," I agreed. "That would be a terrible waste. So I'm probably going to
work on your nipples while you lick Tom's nuts; I'll nibble the back of
your neck and finger your arse through your trousers, and then work round
to pinch your nipples, give `em a bit of a nibble, that sort of thing. And
if you can get Tom's bollocks out of your mouth for two minutes, we'll ask
you some questions."

"What sort of questions," Mark asked cautiously.

"Oh, you know the sort of thing. Your first wank; your favourite porn
sites; what you like doing with Claire; what you fantasise about when you
wank off... anything that springs to mind, basically."

"Well, my first wank was when I was thirteen. My brother was..."

He tailed off as I held up a warning finger. "Not now, you doughnut. When
we ask you. Now, if your cock's adequate we might let you fuck one of us,
or both. What's your cock like?"

Mark hesitated. "Well, nothing special, I suppose. It's just... normal."

"Circumcised? Uncircumcised? Long? Thin? Short? Fat? We need facts here,
Mark," Tom rattled.

"OK," Mark said, laughing. "Er... it's quite long and thin, and I haven't
been circumcised. And it curves up a bit when I get hard." He flicked a
glance down at his bulging crotch.

"Well, that sounds like you might get one of us riding your prick, then,"
Tom said approvingly. "But we'll have you on your back for quite a while,
anyway," he added. "It's the easiest way to get at your cock, and it means
that Andy can sit on your face and get rimmed while I'm working on your
balls."

"Because you are going to learn to rim tonight, as well, Mark," I threw in
casually. "I'm going to have your tongue right up my pucker, you dirty
fuck. You're going to find out what real humiliation is when I'm sitting on
your face and Tom's got two fingers up inside you, finger-fucking your
tight little cleft while pre-cum dribbles down your prick."

"And I'll probably fuck your arse while you're on your back, anyway," Tom
mentioned. "That way I can get really deep inside you. And don't forget to
beg me to stop; that's one of my pet turn-ons." He adopted a look of mock
alarm and squeaked, "No, please stop, oh no, please, no more..." in a voice
reminiscent of Penelope Pitstop. Tom looked at me, "God, do you remember
that little squaddie from Bristol...?" We exchanged broad grins. "Like a
fucking howler monkey," Tom breathed with satisfaction. "Sometimes Andy'll
have to hold you down by the wrists while I'm up inside you, just to keep
you still. Oh, and I'll probably wank you off while I'm fucking your arse,
as well; get lots of lube over your cock and then slowly slide my fist up
and down it, finger your helmet, play around with your nuts. Oh, man, I
tell you, there's nothing like a good bate job while you're being shafted."
He whistled appreciatively.

"You'll come at least twice," I promised. "And you'll end up swallowing at
least four loads, two from me and two from Tom, so I hope you like the
taste of fresh spunk. And any spunk you don't swallow we'll rub over your
face and into your hair." I shook my head, smiling. "You are going to be SO
sleazy tonight."

Mark swallowed involuntarily and nodded. "It all sounds good to me, lads"
he said decisively. "Let's do it."

I stopped at our front door and looked back at him, his spiky hair wilted
from sweat; his hard cock visible through his trousers, and smart business
shirt stained with perspiration. Behind him, Tom beamed with anticipation.

"And we're here," I said softly, taking out my keys.


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