Date: Tue, 15 Mar 2011 15:22:47 +0000 (GMT)
From: John Dawson <john@rabancourt.co.uk>
Subject: More Than I Bargained For [complete]

More Than I Bargained For

by John

[ also known on various sites as horny_dad and lexxjld ]

(Note: Because of the length of time it has taken me to finish this story,
I am submitting it whole. If you have kept the first parts, this replaces
them. Enjoy!)

1: Fantasy

I stared intently at the small video playing on my computer screen, even
though it was the fourth time I'd watched it. Only three minutes long, yet
it fed into one of my wildest fantasies - of being made to come just by
being fucked, without anyone touching my cock.

The man being fucked in the video was about my height and build: 6'3" with
a slim tight body and a thin cock about 8" long. Like me he had very little
body hair, and large sensitive-looking nipples. The man fucking him was
shorter and hairier, with a medium-sized but quite thick cock.

Thin man was lying on his back, his knees drawn up to his chest. His cock
was firm but not fully erect, his asshole glistening with spit or lube.
Hairy man knelt between his thighs and in one smooth movement slid the big
head of his cock straight in, followed by the rest of his length. Thin man
gasped and immediately his cock hardened, standing straight up from his
belly like a steel rod.

Hairy man moved slowly and carefully to begin with, probing thin man's
insides until he found the right spot, then he gradually began to thrust
harder and harder. Thin man started groaning, and bubbles of precum started
to appear at the tip of his uncut cock. The thrusting continued, evidently
hitting thin man's prostate, because his cock throbbed and burped out more
precum at each stroke.

Leaning forward more, hairy man wet his thumbs and stroked thin man's
nipples, while continuing his inexorable thrusts. Thin man moaned loudly
and began to raise his hips to try to match his partner's motions. The flow
of precum was now almost constant. The camera zoomed in, showing the
fucker's hairy stomach sliding over the bottom's balls, and the pool of
precum in his navel.

Sharp barking sounds now came from the fuckee at each thrust, and the video
clearly showed the swelling of his cock at each jolt to his lovenut. Hairy
man began to be more vocal, muttering, "Take it, take it!" over and over
again. Then a quiet wailing sound started to be heard, gradually building
in intensity until suddenly the bottom cried, "Oh my god, you're making me
come - oh! - oh!! - oh shit!!!" and a ribbon of white cum launched up
across his belly and chest. He writhed in ecstasy, and at each push of the
cock inside him, more cum sprayed from the tip of his dick. The video ended
with a close-up shot of the streaks and pools of cum.

I leaned back in my chair, almost on the verge of coming myself. Usually
I'm a top, but just occasionally I fancy a cock inside me. The only problem
is that my boyfriend Sean isn't a very good top (perhaps I don't give him
enough practice!) and his cock isn't quite big enough to work me right up
to a hands-free orgasm. Don't get me wrong: I certainly enjoy it when he
fucks me, and he has a particular knack of timing his wanking me off so
that I come just as he does, which makes him groan and me scream. However,
I can tell that it's not as intense as coming hands-free while being fucked
would be.

"Fancy having that done to you, do you?" The voice from behind startles me
- I didn't know that Sean had come in. He'd obviously watched enough of the
video, and my reaction to it, to know what I was thinking.

"Oh yes, I wish someone could fuck me like that and make me come without
touching my cock."

"Not satisfied with the way I deal with you, then?" (this said with
amusement, not bitterness).

"Oh yes, you're fantastic when you fuck me. But I would like to experience
the added intensity ..."

"... of a hands-free orgasm," he completed my thought. "I'll have to hire
in a big-cocked rentboy, then, who can fuck you into submission."

I blushed (not something I usually did for any reason). "No, I really want
to experience it with *you*. I've nothing against rentboys (and some of the
ones I see advertising in the gay papers almost make me come just looking
at them!) but I feel that it would be such a special moment if you and I
could just manage it while you're fucking me."

"Stay there and hold that thought - but don't you dare come. I'll be back
in a minute."

I glanced round at his back as he left the room, and I heard the living
room phone click before he closed the door.

2: Meeting

We had met some months before one Saturday night in a horrible bar in north
London. Vile glittering decorations failed to hide the peeling damp
wallpaper, and the whole place had a smell of decay and cigarette smoke. It
wasn't a regular haunt of mine, but it was fairly close to home, and the
beer was surprisingly good. Occasionally they put on a show with a
stripper; on those nights there were enough men around to cruise and,
occasionally, pick up to take home. On this night, though, there were just
a few regulars propping up the bar, and one man sitting alone in the far
corner. His face was too shadowed to see him clearly, but he often seemed
to be watching me.

I walked up to the bar and asked the barman ('Crusty', his nickname was)
for another pint. As I paid I glanced sideways and saw that the man had
come to stand close to me and was looking at me with a very peculiar
expression of mingled lust, shyness and fear. (I'm a 6'3" skinhead with a
mohican haircut, and quite a lot of men are scared of me at first.)

He was somewhat shorter than me: 5'10" I guessed, and had rich longish
black hair, huge green eyes, and what looked like a solid body. His lips
were slightly parted, looking eminently kissable. Above the neck of his
t-shirt a riot of black hair curled. I licked my lips as I visualized
running my hands through it (I'm fairly hairless, but hair on other men
always turns me on). He raised a hand to nervously brush his hair back from
his forehead, and up his loose sleeve I could see (and smell) fresh sweat
glistening in the luxuriant mat of hair there. I went from flaccid to
achingly erect in about a second - fresh sweat is *such* an aphrodisiac for
me.

He opened his mouth to speak, and was very surprised when I put my finger
to his lips to stop him. I grabbed his arm and lifted it so that his pit
was exposed, and buried my nose and mouth in the dank cavern. As I thought
of rooting my cock around in that moist hair, I nearly came on the spot, it
was wonderful. He just looked confused; I don't think anyone had ever
worshipped his armpits before.

"Do you want another drink?" I motioned to his almost empty glass.

He glanced down at the glass, picked it up and swallowed the last
mouthful. Then he gazed up at me for a moment, his expression unfathomable,
and said quietly and slowly, "No thanks. But I hope you want to take me
home with you. It would be undignified to beg, but I will if I must." He
grinned at this last thought.

I grinned back, "As long as I can fuck your armpits," I said.

"You're a pervert."

"Yes, I know - but that's not all I'm going to fuck. You want it, don't
you?"

His knees almost gave way at the thought, but he muttered, "Oh, yes. Oh,
*yes*!"

"I suppose we'd better introduce ourselves. I'm Jethro. During the day I'm
a gardener. At night, when I get the chance, I'm an 'uphill gardener'."

"My name's Sean, I'm a computer programmer, and you can plough my furrow
any time." He seemed more confident now, and was able to banter with
me. "Let's go - if we stay any longer I'll tear my clothes off and leap on
you."

"That's how I feel, as well. Come on then, bring your coat."

It was chilly outside in the wind, and we pulled up our coat collars while
we negotiated the pedestrian crossings over the extremely busy ring
road. When we reached my block of flats, I turned to Sean and said, "Right,
this is it. Last chance to back out and save your sanity."

"If this is insanity, I'm quite happy with it. Lead on!"

"There's no lift, and I live on the third floor."

"That's OK, when you've fucked me so hard I can't walk, you'll have to
carry me downstairs."

As soon as we got into the flat and shut the door, I turned to him, seized
him in a bearhug, and kissed him passionately. Man, he was a good kisser! I
was rigidly erect, my cockhead almost poking a hole in my jeans, and I
could feel precum running down my left leg (I never wear underwear). We
pulled apart, both breathing hard.

"Let me have a piss, while I still can," he said, and headed off into the
bathroom. I rushed into the bedroom, moved my computer off the bed, threw
dirty clothes and socks into the corner, and rummaged in a drawer to find
condoms and lube. When I turned round he was standing there in the doorway,
beginning to take his t-shirt off. I stopped him, and told him to kneel
down. There, he was at just the right height for me to thrust my aching
cock into his hairy armpit. At first he found this very strange, but when
my cock was glistening with his sweat I pulled it from his armpit and
brushed it under his nose.

"Fuck," he breathed, "I never realised before how sexy that smells - how
sexy *I* smell. And the sight of your cock, so hard, so ..." His voice
tailed off, his eyes glazing over with lust. I prodded his lips with my
cock and he stuck out his tongue and licked just the tip. I swear that the
burst of precum this produced felt almost like coming. He avidly licked it
off, then opened his mouth wide ready to suck my whole cock in.

I pulled back and stopped him. "If you suck me you'll make me come, and I
don't want to just yet. Stand there and let me undress you." As I had
hoped, the black hair continued down his hairy chest and across his flat
belly. It was in strong contrast to his creamy white skin. I followed the
trail down to his waistband with my finger and he groaned. While I undid
his jeans I looked into his eyes. He still looked surprised, as if he
couldn't believe this was happening to him. My lips met his just as I
unzipped him. He gasped and his eyes widened. I pushed him and he fell
backwards on to the bed, his feet still on the floor. Quickly pulling off
his shoes, followed by his jeans, I buried my face in his white briefs and
savoured the musky smell of a man in heat.

It doesn't take much imagination to work out how we spent that night and
most of Sunday. Every time one of us came we smeared the hot cum all over
our chests and nipples, which just seemed to spur us on to more inventive
fucking and sucking. Sean proved to be an insatiable bottom - so much so
that we ran out of condoms and I had to get dressed to go and buy some
more. While I was out I also bought some bananas to prevent potassium
starvation and give us enough energy to carry on. When I returned, he was
lying relaxed on his back on the bed. The room reeked of cum and sweat,
which gave me an instant hard-on again. Despite all the times he had come,
his erection was sticking up rigidly. I quickly threw off my clothes, lubed
up my arse, rolled a condom on his cock and sat down hard on it. I'm
usually a top, but enjoy a good fuck from a man I like and trust. After his
initial surprise he soon got into a rhythm, and when I held on to the
headboard and got into a squatting position, he really hammered his cock
into me until he yelled and squirted.

So far it had all been wild sex, but we were now both shattered, and just
lay there cuddling and chatting quietly about our lives. He rolled over
until he was on top of me, and started to kiss me gently but passionately,
while stroking my mohican. Suddenly I noticed that he was crying. "What's
wrong, Sean?"

"Nothing," he sniffled. After a pause he wiped his face and continued,
"This has been so wonderful I don't want it to end."

"It doesn't have to end," I replied with a grin, "we can meet again and
fuck like bunnies." He started to cry again. "I'm sorry, isn't that what
you want?"

"Oh yes, don't get me wrong - the sex has been absolutely sensational! But
Jethro, I feel so close to you now, emotionally ... Oh shit! I'm such an
idiot!"

Totally confused now, I said gently, "I'm sorry, I really don't
understand. Why do you think you're an idiot?"

"Because to you this is just a weekend shag-fest. Next weekend you'll find
another victim to seduce - you'll soon forget about me." More tears. "Oh,
Jethro ..."

Glimmers of light began to gleam in my sex-fuddled brain. To him this
wasn't merely sex, it was a deep emotional experience. But was he right? -
was this just a shag-fest for me? Would I immediately forget about him and
find another hunky man for the following weekend? I pondered this question
for a while. It was certainly an accurate description of my life so far: a
man each weekend - more if I could get them - and some of them so fleeting
that I couldn't remember their faces or their names (if I ever even knew
their names).

With my thumbs I gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. This just made him
cry more, and he stretched out on top of me, buried his face in my shoulder
and began to sob. It was as I put my arms round him to comfort him that it
suddenly came over me in a rush. Although it hadn't occurred to me before,
this weekend *had* felt different from all the others. I did care about
this man. Hesitantly I said, "I - could - love you, Sean."

He stiffened and raised his head to look at me in amazement and
confusion. Quietly he said, "Whatever you do, don't just say what you think
I want to hear ... I may be an idiot, but I'm not *that* much of an idiot."

I drew his head down to mine and kissed him, at first softly, then with
growing passion. He resisted for a while, then avidly joined in, his tongue
snaking into my mouth until we were both gasping. "You're not an idiot, and
you're wrong," I said. "Oh, you're right about the usual pattern of my
weekends - I'm not one to remain celibate for long - but this weekend *has*
been really special, *you* are really special, and I'll say it again: I
could love you, Sean. At the moment I can't say more than that - but I can
tell you that you're the first man I've ever said it to."

He slid off me, turned and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to
me. I could tell that he was crying again, and I didn't know what to do for
the best. "I'm going to make some tea," I muttered, "we need to sit down
quietly and talk about this." He sobbed, but nodded.

The tea had its usual calming effect, and we sat there side by side on the
bed in companionable silence until we'd finished it. Then I half turned
towards him and said, "Look, I'm going to be absolutely honest with you. If
you're expecting, or even hoping, that I'm going to be monogamous with just
you, then this is a non-starter. You've probably noticed that I'm a horny
fucker ..."

"Hah! You can say that again!" Through his tears he grinned.

"And I *always* look at other men when I'm out. It's just my nature. And if
they look back and seem interested, well, I'm not going to say no ..."

"You must have a queue at your door sometimes?"

I grinned. "Let's just say that there have been afternoons when I've only
just had time to straighten the sheets and dispose of the condoms and used
lube tubes before my next man arrives. And afterwards I've still gone out
to the pub and been sucked off in the back room." Even I blushed at the
next part: "It took an orgy with five insatiable bottoms and a sling to
knacker me completely!"

Sean laughed at this. I was glad to discover that he wasn't shocked by my
total promiscuity. He really was a very special man, and I didn't want him
walking out on me. He looked at me thoughtfully for a while, then said,
"I'm not nearly as experienced as you. I've had my fun, certainly, but it's
tended to be with one man on and off for a while, before we go our separate
ways. But I've never ever felt for any of them what I feel for you, just in
this short time. Oh, the sex has been *fantastic* - actually that's an
understatement, it's been out of this world - but there's a lot more to it
than that."

"Yes, I sense that, too."

"So if you think we could be more than fuck-buddies, I'd like to try that,
and I don't have any problem with you looking at other men - or shagging
other men. Or even having orgies, as long as I'm invited and I can watch."
He smiled. "It would be extremely horny to see you in action with lots of
other men, knowing that afterwards we'd be going home together and I could
snuggle with your sweaty spunky drained body until you recovered enough to
fuck me." As he said this I noticed that his cock was thickening again and
rising from his thigh to half-hard. I bent over and stuck my nose in his
armpit and my cock immediately shot to almost painful throbbing rigidity.

"Just one demand ..."

"What?"

"You are *never* to wear deodorant or cologne. I want to be able to find
you, even in the dark, just from the fantastic sexy smell of your armpits."

"Is that your *only* demand?"

"Oh no, now I demand that you get on your knees while we get started on
this new pack of condoms."

3: Loving and Living

At the end of the following week he gave up his rented room and moved in
with me. Even though my flat was small, we never seemed to get in each
other's way or get on each other's nerves. He was (fortunately) much tidier
than me, and managed to keep the floor reasonably clear of dirty clothes
and used condoms, and the kitchen sink clear of dirty pots and pans. For my
part, I really did try to be tidier and cleaner, though it wasn't in my
nature.

One afternoon I came home from work and found him washing up, dressed only
in a pair of my trackie trousers, very loose-fitting on him. He began to
turn to hug me but I said sharply, "No, stay exactly where you were." As he
turned back to the sink I got on my knees behind him, pulled down the loose
trackies, and buried my nose and then my tongue in his arse crack. He
moaned softly and moved backwards until he could lean with his hands on the
front of the sink, which opened up his arse even more and my tongue slipped
inside.

After a few minutes of concentrated tonguing, he began to chant, "Fuck me,
oh, fuck me, please, fuck me ..."

"Just a mo, I'll go and get a condom."

"Wait. Don't use a condom. I know you've always used them with other men,
so have I - so you don't need them with me."

My brain thought of numerous things I should say or ask, but my clothes
flew in all directions as I stripped while dashing into the bedroom for
lube. He was so worked up and open that my cock slipped right in until I
actually lifted him off his feet, and reaching round I found, as I
expected, that he was already leaking precum, which I smeared round the
head of his cock. He brought one hand down to start wanking himself as I
fucked him, but I smacked it away and said, "No, that's all mine."
Gathering more of his precum I slicked up his nipples, which made them as
hard as diamonds and made his arse contract rhythmically round the shaft of
my cock.

I fucked him as slowly as my body would let me. His insides actually
rippled, gripping me and then releasing me, and I gradually timed my
thrusts to get the maximum friction. Just when I began to feel his prostate
contracting rhythmically, bringing me closer and closer to exploding, I
gently pulled out of him.

He half turned and looked over his shoulder with an amusing (to me)
expression of mingled frustration and surprise. "What ...?"

"Quiet," I ordered him, "remember that I'm in charge here."

The flush spread from his face down his chest and reached his cock, which
became so hard that the skin on his shaft shone. He was clearly extremely
turned on by my domination, even though we both knew it was only in play. I
seized his arm and pulled him into the bedroom. Putting a towel on top of
the blanket box I told him to lie down on it on his back, and to hold his
legs up behind the knees. Then I sat astride the box and shuffled forwards
until my cock grazed his twitching arse hole. He moaned. I nearly came, but
managed to restrain myself by reciting Latin plant names to myself for a
while.

Over the next twenty minutes I teased his hole mercilessly, just beginning
to slip inside then pulling out again (that took some willpower, I can tell
you!) He was sweating and nearly crying with frustration, and precum was
pouring out of the head of his cock, which hadn't been touched in all that
time. I stood up and bent over him, taking a deep snort in each of his
armpits. My own precum burped out and pooled on his stomach. Looking at his
face I could see that his eyes seemed focused somewhere inside of him, and
he was desperately willing himself not to touch his cock or mine and bring
things to an exceedingly messy conclusion.

Sitting down again I placed my cockhead just at his entrance, grabbed hold
of his thighs and pulled him gently towards me. If I live to be a hundred I
shan't forget the sensation of sliding into his hot, lubed, gripping
tunnel, nor the expression on his face as I bottomed out inside him, my
balls trapped under his sweating cheeks. I didn't move a muscle.

His face went from pleased, to surprised, to almost pained, then his eyes
opened in wonder and his mouth rounded into a silent exclamation. A thick
splodge of cum drooled out of his cock slit and flowed down his shaft. We
both held our breath, waiting for the inevitable, both knowing that nothing
on earth could now stop him coming. His eyes opened wider and wider, and
began to roll back in his head, as a moaning sound got louder and louder in
his throat and finally burst forth in a great roar as the dam exploded. "Oh
... my ... god ... fuck! ... FUCK!! ... Aaaaaaagh!!!"

The first shot was more like a jet and reached as high as my eyes, then two
more lower ones, then a positive rain of cum splattered all over his chest
and belly. Such a powerful orgasm had an effect inside him, too. His
channel squeezed my cock so hard that it hurt, then rippled over my already
super-sensitive cockhead. It was too much. Without thrusting or even
moving, I could feel the cum building up and travelling through my
tubes. There was an instant of stillness, then it was as if I'd had a
seizure. Every muscle contracted at the same time, all of them intent on
one thing - forcing as much of my spunk as far into him as possible. I
yelled wordlessly as the strongest orgasm I'd ever had ripped through my
body. It didn't even feel like separate jets, but as if all my seminal
fluids had been sucked out of me all at once by some mighty milking
machine.

I collapsed forwards on to his belly, and passed out for a while. Whether
it was for seconds or hours I couldn't have told you, but when I came to,
we were welded together with Sean's drying spunk. I sat up. He was asleep,
but still holding his legs up; I was deeply embedded in him, and
(amazingly) mostly erect. It felt wonderful. I began to thrust gently into
him, my cock squishing through the gallons of cum I seemed to have
deposited there. It was a fantastically sexy feeling.

His eyes opened, he blinked and looked somewhat surprised, then grinned. "A
hard man is good to find," he misquoted, and then punned, "and they don't
come much harder than you!"

"If your fingers aren't squeezing my nipples in the next five seconds I'm
going to pull out and let you finish yourself off."

He took me at my word, spread some of his spunk on his fingers, and started
to twist and squeeze my nipples. My cock got even harder and the sensation
from my nipples shot right down to my toes, making my cock tingle
rhythmically on the way. I continued to slide in and out on the wave of my
cum. His cock unglued itself from his belly and started to rise, the
foreskin pulling back and revealing his cummy cockhead. Not for the first
time, I regretted that I wasn't flexible enough to suck him while fucking
him, so had to make do with my hand, rotating it round his extremely
sensitive glans, which made his hips buck and his voice moan.

Eventually I settled into a rhythm - just holding my fingers in a loose
ring round his slippery glans, so that I was scarcely touching him, I used
the motion of my in-thrust to push his cock through the ring, and my
out-thrust to let it slip back. After coming so hard earlier, I knew that
it would take me a while to build up again, and I didn't want him to come
too soon and go off the idea of being fucked. This made him pour precum,
which kept my fingers slippery.

Sean closed his eyes in ecstasy. "Open your eyes," I murmured, "look into
my eyes as I fuck you and make you mine. I want to see every atom of
emotion as you experience it." The bond between our eyes was almost strong
enough to touch. I sent the enormous love I felt for this wonderful man, as
well as the plain lust that gripped my spasming body, and received back
such a look of adoration that my mind went into overdrive.

Both of us could only take a limited amount of these feelings, both
emotional and physical. I felt my cockhead swell inside him as it sloshed
through his cummy insides, and the wider it became the more strongly it
scraped on the walls of his chute and across his prostate. I fucked a
little faster and tightened the ring of my fingers. His expression became
disbelieving, then almost panicky, then totally astonished and he cried
out, "Now! Do it now! Fuck me!! Fuck me harder ... please!!!"

But there was no need for me to change what I was doing at all. He
scrunched up his face as the messages from his cock became overwhelming and
he began to come - internally at first, with rippling contractions, then
the slit in his cockhead opened and I knew the time had arrived. One final
deeper plunge and I felt my spunk exploding into him like bullets. "I love
you Sean, oh I love you!!" as I gripped his cockhead and rotated it once in
my greasy hand. With an agonised cry the spunk started to shoot out of him
like a firework and pour over my wanking hand.

As his incoherent noises died down he turned his head to one side, then
looked back up at me. There were tears in his eyes, but I could tell that
they were tears of joy. "Even by the standards of our sexual activities
that was outstanding! Thank you. And Jethro, you already know that I love
you - I've loved you ever since you first held me in your arms."

It was my turn to have tears in my eyes.

4: Saturday night and Sunday morning

After Sean's mysterious phone calls on Saturday - which he wouldn't tell me
anything about in spite of both entreaties and threats - he made me sit
down on the couch, not touching me at all, while he began to explain some
of what he had planned. "I'm going to have to trust you this week: I
*could* have bought a chastity device ..." My cock surged erect. "... but I
understand that they're uncomfortable and get smelly if you keep them on
for longer than a day. So this is how it's going to be: you don't wank, you
don't fuck me (or anybody else), you don't go into the pub for a quick
blowjob, you don't have a wet dream; in a word, you *don't come*!"

I think I whimpered a bit as I asked, "For how long?"

"All this week. Next Saturday afternoon and evening are when you're going
to have your fantasy fulfilled ..."

He was about to continue when I stood up and shouted, "A *week*?! A fucking
*week*?!! I haven't gone more than 48 hours without coming for ..." I did a
quick calculation, trying to subtract 12 from 38 while in a totally
flustered state, "... 26 *years*! I can't do it, I'll go mental!"

"But you want me to give you a hands-free orgasm while I fuck you ...?"

"Oh, yes, yes. But a *week*? Can't I just start this chastity lark on
Thursday? I'd still be so horny by Saturday that you'd only have to *look*
at me sexily and I'd spray my jeans with cum!"

"No, this is what I've decided. Take it or leave it. And if it's any
comfort, I will only come once this week - you'll see why, later."

"Shit! You drive a hard bargain, Sean. You'll be able to use my cock as a
power-hammer by next Saturday!"

"That's the idea. But you're going to have fun every evening this week;
you're just not going to release all that spunk. And we can only cuddle
with clothes on (even in bed - get out pyjamas for both of us); because I
know that a horny fucker like you will have difficulty restraining
himself!"

===

On Sunday morning we got up late, me with a hard-on that you could already
use as a dibber to plant seedlings. Sean had made porridge, thick and
creamy; the only problem was that it made me think of spunk - *my* spunk -
and how my spunk would have to wait and collect until Saturday. An endless
week stretched ahead of me, full of erections I couldn't satisfy. "Can I
ask you a question? How are you going to give me fun without making me
come? How are you going to stop me having a crafty wank when I'm at work?"

"That's two questions. At work you're just going to have to rely on
willpower ..." I snorted in amazement, "... yes, I know you have the
willpower of a randy gnat, but if you want the end result enough you'll do
it. And I'll know if you've cheated, you never could fool me when you've
had a surreptitious fumble. Remember that if you cheat, next Saturday's
plan will be cancelled."

"So what about the 'fun' part?"

"That's for me to know and arrange, and for you to find out: gradually."

"So, does this 'fun' start tonight?"

"Oh yes, it'll be arriving soon."

"What will? What the fuck have you planned?"

Just then the doorbell rang. Sean leapt up to answer it, and returned
holding a thin package wrapped in a big brown envelope. Intrigued, I said,
"What's that?"

"Oh, just some things that I borrowed from Jim." (Jim was a randy
55-year-old who lived near us. Occasionally he joined in when we had a
group session, but more often he just sat in an armchair and watched.)

"When do we start?"

"After you've washed up, cleaned the bathroom, tidied up all your papers
off the living-room table. That'll take you until mid-afternoon, then we'll
see ..."

"You know that I'm going to *kill* you before the week is out, if you keep
being so mysterious, don't you?" I said with a grin.

"Tough. Get used to it. Anyway, cleaning and clearing up should sublimate
some of that excess sexual energy into practical effort."

"Oooh, 'sublimate', that's a new word. Swallowed another dictionary, have
we?"

"Even your pitiful attempts at sarcasm won't make me rise to the bait!"
Sean kissed me (chastely, on the cheek), smiled, and continued, "Well,
you'd better get on with your chores."

It's not easy doing housework with a raging erection. For some reason, the
thought that I *couldn't* have sex for a week was making me even more horny
than usual. While washing up my cock kept poking the sink in front of me,
and it was *so* tempting just to rub it - just a little - along the edge of
the work surface. But some (tiny) rational part of my mind said, 'You know
you wouldn't stop with just rubbing it a little, you'd carry on until you
spunked in your trackies, and that would be the end of the fun.' And I have
to admit that I was curious about how I'd feel without sex for a week, as
well as full of anticipation about what next Saturday might bring.

By mid-afternoon I'd just finished putting away the last of my papers and
gardening catalogues when Sean called me for afternoon tea. "Oh, you're
going to torment me with cucumber sandwiches, are you?" I answered
playfully.

"Interesting idea, but no. Tea will be served in the bedroom."

'Bedroom = sex' my mind shouted at me. I suppressed it with difficulty and
wandered into the bedroom. Sean had rearranged the room and brought in the
wide-screen television in place of the tiny box we usually had there. The
lights were very dim, and I couldn't quite see what he'd done about the
furniture. He sat me down in the one comfortable chair in the room and told
me to relax and drink my tea.

Coming up behind me he slipped a leather blindfold over my eyes and settled
it securely so that I could see nothing. He helped me stand up, and did
some furniture moving, then pulled down my trackies before lowering me into
the big carver chair from the dining room. The seat was cold on my hot
balls! I could feel the wide wooden arms under my forearms. He soon wrapped
velcro bands round my wrists and the chair arms, then I felt him bend down
and attach leather ankle cuffs, which pulled my legs wide apart. I just
love being gently restrained, and my cock burped precum (my trackies were
already quite soaked with precum).

A bit more furniture moving. Silence for a while, then a soft kiss on the
back of my neck made my hair stand on end. What on earth was he going to
do? Some clicks and whirrs sounded, my blindfold was suddenly removed, and
I found myself staring at the immense TV screen on which a really hardcore
gay porn DVD was showing. A darkened warehouse seemed to have nude men in
bondage round the walls, some standing, some kneeling, one spread-eagled on
a wooden St Andrew's cross.

They were scarcely illuminated, but in the centre with a brilliant
spotlight shining on it was a bondage bench - the sort where you kneel at
one end and your body is strapped down horizontally over the flat
part. Tied firmly to it was a tall skinhead (he looked a bit like me, I
realised), and he'd obviously been there for some time. Sweat was pouring
off his sides, and his cock, which was pulled backwards between his legs,
had dripped a pool of cum and precum. A large vibrating dildo was stuffed
in his arse, and from time to time an exceptionally handsome, well-muscled,
and *hugely* erect man striped the skinhead's back with a leather flogger.

I whimpered. My cock pulsed and poured precum which just dribbled uselessly
on to the chair and dripped down on to the floor.

"Remember: you're not to come!"

"I *hate* you! Just you wait until you're helpless, then see what I'll do
to you, you sadistic sod!"

Sean grinned. "But it'll all be worthwhile next Saturday ..."

Just then the sight of the skinhead in the film coming again distracted
me. The whole bondage bench shook as he roared through his orgasm and the
pool beneath him increased. I was just *so* horny that I thought I would
cry, or faint.

"The DVD is about two-and-a-half hours; enjoy, but don't come!" and Sean
smiled sweetly, gave me a chaste kiss, and left the room.

Normally, in the course of watching a whole porn DVD with at least one hand
free, I would come at least three times. This was *such* agony, but in
spite of myself I couldn't look away from the screen or close my eyes. Sean
had chosen well: he knew *exactly* what would turn me on the most.

Eternities (and a whole DVD film) later, Sean returned. If I had been less
stubborn I would have *begged*, I would have sold my soul, my grandma, and
all the unborn children that I was unlikely to have, just to be able to
come! But I remained grimly silent.

Sean knelt down in front of me and licked the large puddle of my precum off
the chair seat. "Delicious!" he pronounced it. But he didn't touch my cock
at all. Then from behind me he slipped the blindfold on again. There were
some faint clinking sounds, and suddenly my cock and balls were surrounded
with crushed ice! The room (and Sean) learnt some new and very inventive
ways of combining swearwords, but when I stopped shouting I realised that
it had had the (presumably) intended effect of shrivelling my cock to its
smallest possible dimensions, and the urge to come had receded.

Carefully and gently, Sean removed the blindfold and the restraints, led me
to the bed and helped me to lie down flat on my back. I was truly exhausted
with the sheer emotional strain of nearly three hours of severe mental
stimulation, and went to sleep like a baby.

5: Monday

Fortunately, the work I had to do on Monday was intensive and physical -
digging and raking - and although I was always aware of my hard-on in the
jockstrap that Sean had made me wear, I didn't have the time or energy to
think about rubbing myself a little ... OK, more than a little ... and
making myself come. By 4 o'clock I was shattered and extremely sweaty. At
home Sean sniffed my armpits and said, "You know, I think you've converted
me to being hooked on armpit smell." Precum surged into my jockstrap at
this idea. "But be a good boy," (I growled at his tone) "and go and have a
shower. We don't want your smell to put off your customers, do we?"

'Customers?' thought I, 'is he going to rent me out for the evening? If so,
I'm certain to come as soon as anybody starts playing with me.' But I went
off and had a shower, sniffing my own armpits and jockstrap first, and came
back feeling much refreshed, wearing a clean jockstrap that Sean had left
out for me. He had made a wonderful pasta salad with chunks of tuna and
minute tomatoes with basil leaves as flavouring, and I tucked in heartily.

"Now, tell me about tonight ..." I began, but he put his finger to his lips
to silence me. "Just wait and see," he said, enigmatically. After a short
rest he led me into the bedroom and made me kneel on the floor with my head
resting on the side of the bed, still wearing just my jockstrap. He
attached leather wrist cuffs to me and fastened them together behind me
with spring clips. "Open wide," he said, "*very* wide," and I looked up to
see a leather hood with an attached O-ring which he forced between my
teeth. The rest of the hood slipped over my head and was zipped up behind
(that was when I noticed that the hood had no nose-holes). I have worn an
O-ring gag before, and it's amazing just how quickly the drool starts to
build up and slither out of your mouth when you can't use your tongue or
swallow properly. I hoped that Sean had had the sense to put a towel
underneath me, or the carpet would look as if snails had been crawling all
over it.

I couldn't see, and couldn't hear very well, but was aware of some movement
and muttering in the room. Then someone put his hand on top of my head and
very slowly fed a fairly thin cock in through the O-ring until it reached
the back of my throat. I'm good at deep-throating, but could tell that this
cock was nowhere near all in yet, so I breathed hard and swallowed. And
again. And again. 'Fuck, how long *is* this cock? I've never had one so far
down my throat before.' At last I felt his balls bang on my chin, but was
rapidly beginning to run out of air. I tried pulling my head backwards, but
it was resting against the bed, and nothing happened. I tried turning my
head sideways to make the cock leave my throat, but the hand on my head
stopped me. I tried to make noises to warn him that I was about to pass
out, but this just had the effect of gargling round the cock shaft.

Just as the bright lights at the back of my eyes were beginning to dim, the
cock was withdrawn until only the head was in my mouth. In relief I sucked
in great blasts of air, but moments later felt the cock slide in and down
my throat again. I've heard that having an orgasm whilst being asphyxiated
is an incredibly intense feeling, and certainly my cock was throbbing,
untouched, and leaking precum into my jockstrap, but there wasn't enough
sensation on it to make me come. I groaned, but that only served to make
the cock harder and slip even further down my throat. After four or five of
these breath-stopping moments I realised that he was timing himself very
carefully (probably by holding his own breath), letting me breathe well
before I would have passed out, and I actually began to enjoy myself (in
between the panic stages).

After what felt like hours, but was probably only about ten minutes, he
slid his cock out of my throat and just rubbed it on the top of my
tongue. I was desperate to be able to suck it, but the O-ring pressed down
on my tongue. Tangy precum was being dribbled all over the inside of my
mouth, and I did my best to swallow it, moaning as best I could out of
sheer frustration. He teased me like this for ages, seeming to enjoy my
moans, then gradually picked up the pace. From the sheer rigidity of his
cockhead I could tell he was about to come, and hoped that he wouldn't pull
out to do so. And he didn't! Without warning my mouth was flooded with five
huge forceful shots of spunk (the first one nearly choked me, as I was
breathing in at the time). When he finished coming and slipped his cock
out, he held me under my chin and tilted my head up. It was swallow or
drown! Of course I gulped it down as best I could, savouring the almost
nutty taste of his mixed cum and precum. Delicious!

Someone (I could tell it was Sean from the scent of his body) lifted me up
and sat me on the edge of the bed, and said, "Don't breathe, I'm going to
spray your mouth." A very welcome fine spray of ice-cold water filled my
mouth; a lot poured straight out, but some I gratefully swallowed.

Back on my knees again, another hand holding my hair, and a really fat cock
now eased through my O-ring. It was so fat, in fact, that as soon as the
head was in there was no room round it to let air in, so the panic of
non-breathing started immediately. As I couldn't move my head, I waved my
cuffed arms frantically from side to side behind my back as a signal. He
seemed to get the point, and withdrew a little. I could feel him wanking
himself slowly, and from time to time precum dripped on to my tongue. Most
men's precum is extremely sweet, but this was bitter and horrible, so I
tried not to swallow any of it. Even through my mask I could hear the
grunting noises getting louder as he came closer and closer to orgasm, and
I tried not to think of how bitter his cum would taste.

But suddenly his cock was gone and he was no longer holding my head. I
drooled out as much of the nasty precum as I could, without being too
obvious about it. The grunting noises were still getting louder, and I
assumed he would spray my mask when he came, but the front of my jockstrap
was pulled open and I felt great blobs of hot thick cum falling on to my
exposed cock. I gave a sort of strangled moan as my cock throbbed with the
idea of adding to the spunk myself, but managed to get myself under control
again. The elastic waistband of the jockstrap snapping back on to my belly
soon put me off that idea, anyway.

This session was like Goldilocks and the Three Bears: the first was too
long, the second was too fat, but the third - oh, the third was just
perfect! As well as liking fresh armpit, there is that wonderful smell of
hot confined ball-musk, and this man had it to perfection. Just being near
his crotch, even breathing through my mouth, his scent filled me, and when
he slid a medium width, medium length cock into my mouth it tasted as good
as the rest of him smelled. My own cock, sliding around in the jockstrap in
a pool of someone else's cum, reacted fiercely. He didn't need to hold my
head, I wasn't going anywhere until this fantastic cock had given up its
nectar!

He took his time, obviously enjoying himself immensely. His precum was
delicious, and I thought to myself that after this was over, I would get
Sean to set me up for an evening with this man, private and unmasked, and
I'd do a *really* good job of sucking him off. After a while he put his
hands gently on the sides of my head and began to thrust in and out more
forcefully. My mind drifted off as I imagined being in a 69 with him on
top, thrusting his lovely cock in and out of my throat while licking the
head of my cock. This made me moan, and the vibration on his cock was
clearly the last straw. He pulled his cock back until it just rested on my
tongue, gave a high-pitched shout, and absolutely sprayed the whole inside
of my mouth with spunk. He can't have come for weeks! The taste and smell
of him filled my mouth and the back of my nose, and to avoid losing any of
this special meal I tilted my head back a bit so that it all pooled where I
could swallow it. His spunk tasted of nutmeg and cinnamon and almonds, and
I wanted more and more of it.

But all good things come (cum?) to an end, and his cock softened and slid
out of my mouth. Sean held me again and lifted me up to sit on the edge of
the bed. "Don't breathe," he said, but I twisted my head away so that he
couldn't spray my mouth - I wanted this taste to stay with me as long as
possible. More murmuring in the room, then I felt hands undoing the straps
of my hood. "Close your eyes for a minute," said Sean, "otherwise the
light's going to blind you." It was such a relief to get rid of the O-ring
gag; if you've never worn one, you can have no idea how uncomfortable it is
to have your mouth held open helplessly for so long. After a while I opened
my eyes to see my lover's face close to mine, looking at me with some
concern.

"Thank you," I said, "especially for that last one. He was *special* - I
want more of him!" Sean looked relieved and kissed me gently on my sore
lips. I trembled with lust; if he had only *touched* my cock just then I
would have exploded. Looking round the room, I saw that we were alone. "Who
were they, where did they go?"

"Never you mind that, you'll see them again, later in the week."

I groaned as I remembered that it was only Monday. Could I really survive
another four days of this before getting my reward?

That night I didn't sleep well at all. Vivid dreams of cocks and spunk
afflicted me when I *was* asleep, and awake I was permanently aware of my
erection. Quite early on Tuesday morning I rolled over and held Sean, and
said, "What's planned for today, then?"

"Nothing at all!" was his surprising answer. He grinned. "You're having a
rest day to let your hormones die down. Can't have you wasting all this
effort with a spontaneous orgasm, can we?"

"I'm going to kill you," I muttered. "Just wait - revenge will be *very*
sweet!" But thoughts of what I might do to Sean to get my own back were so
erotic that I had to have a really cold shower to calm myself before work.

6: Wednesday

Of course I woke up with a magnificent erection. Sean pulled the waistband
of my pyjamas out and inspected it. "Ripening nicely," he said (cruelly
using one of my gardening terms). "Now go and wash it and the rest of you,
but *don't* come!"

All day I was erect and could scarcely walk without fear of rubbing my
erection on the inside of my trackies. Even with a jockstrap on, I felt
that it would only take an incautious movement to make me come. Having got
this far through the week, I was eagerly (for which read: 'desperately')
waiting to find out what would happen on Saturday. And I was hoping that
the evening would bring more stimulation, though I feared my ability to
resist coming if anyone touched me.

After dinner I was again tied, nude, on a towel to the carver chair in the
bedroom, but this time there was no blindfold. Candles were lit all round
the bedroom, and Sean set some incense burning. Noises on the stairs told
me that more people were arriving. There were three of them: a lanky,
rather spotty youth; our 55-year-old friend Jim; and a short solid
mid-thirties man with cropped hair and a spiky goatee. I guessed
(correctly, as I was later told) that these were the same three men who had
fucked my mouth on Monday. The youth was introduced to me as 'Paul', and
the other man as 'Steve'. Paul I could do without, but it was Steve I
wanted to get to know *much* better ...

The three of them, and Sean, stripped off their clothes and got on the
bed. The following two hours made me nearly rabid with lust, as they
stroked and kissed, sucked and fucked, in all of the many combinations that
four horny versatile men can devise. In the candle light it wasn't always
easy to see who was doing what to whom, but the sights and smells of such
horny men caused a puddle of precum under my balls.

I was a bit surprised that they had all managed to hold off from coming for
so long, and even more surprised when they all just got up off the bed and
went downstairs for some refreshment. Sitting there with my erection
burping precum, I wondered what was next.

When they came back in, I soon found out. Paul stood in front of me,
wanking his long thin cock slowly, while Jim from behind him stroked his
nipples. I opened my mouth in expectation of being fed a good load of cum,
but suddenly my head was enclosed in a leather hood with no eye or mouth
holes, just a small gash at the nose for me to breathe through. The laces
at the back of the hood were tied tightly, and I couldn't hear, see, or
smell anything much. Paul began to slap my leather-covered face with his
cock, and I could dimly hear him groaning. This went on for some time, then
his groans became louder and suddenly, "Oh fuck!!" and I felt spunk
splatter all over my hood, from where a lot dripped onto my chest and
crotch.

In my dark world I moaned at the waste of all that precious fluid; I might
not fancy Paul but I remembered the taste of his spunk spraying into my
mouth, and my cock swelled dangerously. Another cock was pushed under my
nose-hole and I sniffed deeply to get the full effect of his musk. This
must be Jim - his cock smelled somewhat sour, just like his cum. He rested
his cock on the bridge of my nose and began to wank himself and rub himself
on the layer of spunk already on my mask. In only a few seconds he grunted
deeply and began to pour spunk over my face. Glad as I was that I didn't
have to swallow any more of his evil-tasting juice, the feeling of it
flowing down my mask and onto my cock made me shiver with excitement.

There was a short pause and some muttering, and someone started to lick the
cum off my mask. Then he continued down and licked my chest clean, having a
little nibble at my nipples as he did so. As he continued down my belly my
cock throbbed in the hopes that he would suck the spunk off that as well,
though I knew that if anyone even touched my cock at the moment I would
explode. Sean muttered in my ear, "This is Steve - remember how much you
fancy him?"

I whimpered, remembering all too well the things I had dreamed of doing
with that hunk. But all sensation stopped. I strained my ears to try to
work out what was happening, but all I could hear was the faint sound of
someone wanking a very wet cock. Was it Steve, or Sean, or both? I couldn't
tell, but it wasn't long before a volley of cum shots hit my cock from what
felt like two directions, so it was probably both of them. The sensation of
so much cum sliding down my achingly erect tool was almost orgasmic. All I
needed was one touch, one gentle stroke on my cock and I would have to
redecorate the bedroom ceiling. I thrashed around on my chair, trying to
get some friction on my cockhead, but I was bound too tightly.

Noises subsided, and I was apparently left alone, long enough that the
remaining cum on my cock had cooled right down. Then Sean returned and
removed the mask, showing me some rivulets of juice that Steve had
missed. He told me to look at my crotch; it was liberally coated with
streaks and puddles of cum, and now that my nose was free again I could
smell the heady odour still rising from it. "Just think," he whispered,
"how it would feel if I used all that lovely spunk as lube to wank you
off."

"I warn you - I hate you!" I replied, "because you're not going to let me
come, are you?"

"Of course not," he said innocently, "that would be a complete waste after
all this build-up, wouldn't it?"

"You're a bastard! Just wait till I manage to get you in this position ..."

"Oh, I know. But you'll thank me for it on Saturday ..."

7: Thursday and Friday

Thursday was, like Tuesday, a 'rest' day - if you can call trying to dig
while not rubbing a steel erection inside your jockstrap 'restful'. By the
time I got home I was sweaty from digging and felt as if I was sweating
spunk as well. Sean took one look at me and said, "You need a cool shower
... but remember, that's *all* you need!" I slept extremely badly, having
such luridly sexual dreams that Sean had to wake me up twice to make sure
that I didn't have a wet dream.

On Friday I was bursting to know what he had in store for me, but I was too
afraid (of what his answer might be) to ask. Potting up plants in the
greenhouse wasn't as energetic as digging, so I wasn't in danger of rubbing
myself off in my jockstrap. However, it gave me more time to think, which
was also hazardous. Several times I caught myself having such an erotic
fantasy that I had to stamp on my own toe to take my mind off sex.

Sean was home before me again, and as I came in the door said, "Right, go
out again, and strip - completely - in the hallway and throw your clothes
in here."

"But ..." I began, thinking of all the neighbours who might be coming up
the stairs and would see me starkers.

"Don't argue!" was his reply. So I dutifully stripped off in the hallway
and threw my clothes inside the door. I must admit that the thought of
being seen by the neighbours (especially by one older hairy daddy-type who
lived on the floor above) turned me on so much that by the time I finished
undressing I had a raging erection. Sean then shut the door, with me still
outside the flat. Too proud to bang on the door and demand that he let me
in, I just stood there undecided what to do. It was cold, and that, as much
as any lack of physical or mental stimulation, made my cock wilt (though I
noticed that I had dripped some precum on the landing).

It must have been ten minutes before the door opened again, and
surprisingly nobody had come up the stairs. I'd been rehearsing what I
might say to explain why I was standing naked on the landing, but hadn't
come up with anything that sounded remotely plausible, so I was rather glad
to be let back into the flat. Sean came up behind me and said, "Close your
eyes and put your hands behind your back." My erection returned
immediately, even harder than before, if that's possible.

I closed my eyes and clasped my hands behind my back. A leather hood with
no eyeholes was slipped over my head and the drawstring tightened round my
neck. I thought at first that it had no hole to breathe through, but after
a few moments of panic while Sean adjusted the hood, I realised that there
was a very small hole just underneath my nose. In anticipation of what
might be about to happen, my cock reared up and started dribbling. Unable
to see, my other senses were enhanced, and I realised that there was a
faint flowery and spicy smell somewhere nearby. I could identify marigold,
lavender, rosemary, and cloves, but there were several other components of
the smell that weren't strong enough to recognise.

Sean led me into the bathroom, and the smell became stronger. He held my
arms and said, "Step into the bath, it's OK, it's not too hot, but mind you
don't slip." I climbed gingerly into the bath, which was half full of warm
water and the bottom felt very slippery. For some reason (actually, the
reason was obvious - he didn't want me to come) Sean didn't touch me very
much while I was in the bath. He put a small rubber pillow behind my head,
and just added more hot water and more bath oils as needed. Hot water does
eventually have a relaxing effect, and although my mind still said I was
incredibly horny, my erection gradually subsided.

After what seemed like hours, Sean helped me out of the bath and removed
the hood. My skin was all wrinkly (so was my cock) and I felt totally
exhausted. He put me to bed, gave me a chaste kiss, and I went out like a
light for many hours.

8: Saturday

When I woke up, just the thought 'today's the day!' gave me such a spasm of
lust that I thought I was going to lose it there and then, but I got myself
back under control. Sean brought me breakfast in bed - scrambled eggs on
toast with smoked salmon, one of my favourites - and sat companionably on
the edge of the bed while we drank our coffee. I was itching to know when
and how he was going to make me come, but I wouldn't give him the
satisfaction of refusing to tell me. This 'game' also had the effect of
keeping me intensely aroused (not that I needed much to do that!)

We sat around all morning reading the papers, though I found it very
difficult to concentrate with my mind constantly in my crotch. A light
lunch of soup and a chocolate biscuit followed, with my mind screaming
'when is the fucker going to make me come!!??' Then Sean strapped me into
the big chair again, put some mindless musical film on the TV, and said,
"Right, I'm going to the gym - back later," and left.

Watching the film occupied only a small part of my mind; the remainder was
free to devise elaborate schemes of revenge for this torment. Yet I noticed
that the week of alternate teasing and relaxation had left my whole body
feeling like one huge cock. The slightest draught on any part of my exposed
skin was enough to make me shudder with lust, and I knew that if someone
(preferably Sean) were to nibble even my earlobe, I would come and come and
come.

Sean came home, still dressed in his gym kit, and busied himself in the
bedroom for a while. Strange clanking noises made me wonder what the hell
he was up to. Was he building a cage, and if so, what for? Soon he was
behind me again with the leather hood, which he laced up tightly behind me
before releasing my bonds. He led me into the bedroom, turned me round, and
pushed me gently backwards. The backs of my knees encountered a hard edge
of leather, but he continued to push and I suddenly fell backwards into
what I realised was a leather sling. The meaning of the clanking sounds I'd
heard earlier became clear: he'd rented a portable sling with its own metal
framework (the ceiling of the bedroom being neither high enough nor strong
enough to support a sling).

He pulled me into a better position, with my arse exposed at the front of
the sling, and attached my wrists to the rear chains with soft-lined
leather cuffs. My ankles were pulled up in the air and strapped to the
front chains similarly. I was helpless. And almost out of my mind with
sheer horniness. I could hear him undressing and he came round to my head
and said quietly, "Right, it starts now." I made some voiceless noise
between a choke and a whimper, and almost believed that I could feel the
individual molecules of air stroking my exposed dripping dick.

"I've just been to the gym ..."

'Yes, I know that, you fucker, why are you telling me what I already know?'
Thought but not voiced.

"And I didn't shower at the gym ..."

Light began to dawn. Memories of Sean's armpit and crotch smell after a
good workout. The next best thing to actually having sex.

"And I'm going to wrap your cock in my sweaty jockstrap ..."

"Oh god!!" I shouted, "You're going to make me come," but the words were
very muffled by the hood. I imagine he got the gist of what I was trying to
say.

"And then I'm going to make you breathe through my armpit hairs - can you
imagine them, all black with fresh sweat ..."

"Oh Sean, don't, please ... You're going to make me come ... I don't want
to come like this ... I want to come when you're fucking me!" Again, I'm
sure he got the essence of what I was shouting.

"Yes, of course you're going to come while I'm fucking you, but what do you
think I'm going to use for lube?" He put his armpit right next to my nose
holes in the mask.

The answer dawned on me just as I started to produce it: my spunk of
course! I thought that when I did come I would spray all over the place,
but without my cock being touched the spunk was so very liquid that it just
ran down the sides of my cock and pooled on his jockstrap. Sean took off my
hood and showed me the resulting fragrant mess. "I knew you would come too
quickly the first time, so this just takes the pressure off a bit. Gives me
a chance to let my cock do its work inside you."

I was aware that my cock, even though it had just come, was as hard as it
had ever been. Sean took a handkerchief, wiped under both his arms with it,
and spread it across my face just under my nose. I remember groaning. Then
he spread the spunk - *my* spunk - over the head of his throbbing cock, and
moved between my legs. "Hey, what about some lube inside me?" I asked.

"Oh no, I want you to feel every inch of me going in, just with your spunk
as lube. You'll soon get used to it." And with that he began to push his
rigid cock against my tight hole. I was so tight that he pushed me in the
sling several inches backwards before my arse started to open for him. And
once open, gravity and all the fantastic sexy lube took over, and his
wonderful tool slid straight into me without a pause. "Shit!!" I yelled,
"It's too big, take it out!"

"Certainly not. That cock isn't coming out of your lovely arse for several
hours. Did I forget to tell you ..." he grinned, "that you're not just
going to come *once* while I fuck you ..."

I wriggled a bit, as best I could, to settle him more comfortably inside
me, and tried to relax. He gave me a few minutes to get used to the
feeling, then began to move in and out gently. It was sensational! A few
minutes of that, and he pulled out and slathered more of my cum onto his
cock and eased it back in. I can't find words to describe just how good it
felt. But it got better. After a couple of sharp experimental prods he
adjusted his position and then slid out and in again just once. And on the
in-stroke his erection hit my prostate. It was almost painful, a sort of
burning percussion, yet I could feel how it made my cock throb.

"That's better," he murmured to himself, "now we can really start the
afternoon's entertainment." He stood perfectly still and began to move the
sling, holding onto the chains just underneath my tethered ankles. Each
swing was only a few inches, enough to pull about half of his cock length
out of me. But it was the re-entry that did the trick. He was now
positioned exactly right for each in-stroke to make contact with my
prostate. It was just like coming once every three seconds. I shook and
moaned and shouted and groaned; my prostate felt like a golf ball being hit
with a putter over and over again.

"Look at me," he said, and leaned forward a bit so that I could look
straight into his eyes. The inexorable in and out continued. I tensed up
and started to hyperventilate. "No, just relax," he said, "it's like a wave
washing over you. But the wave is going to get bigger and bigger, and you
know what will happen then ..."

I tried to relax and breathe normally, and again became aware of his
underarm smell permanently beneath my nose. Somewhere deep inside me a
volcano was building up pressure. But the gentle motion wasn't quite enough
to make it erupt. Until Sean covered both his thumbs with spunk from his
jockstrap and stroked my nipples just as his cock met my prostate once
again.

What I yelled then I have no idea, but yell I did. And my cock, completely
untouched, absolutely sprayed spunk into the air. Again, and again, and yet
again. The first shot hit Sean under the chin and slid down his chest. The
others hit his chest hair. I think I began to scream. But all the time my
gaze was fixed on Sean's beautiful eyes. The sensation and emotions were so
intense that I started to cry. Sean leaned forward and licked my tears off
my cheeks.

When I came, my arse clamped down so hard on his cock that it would have
been painful for him to move. He stayed buried deep within me for some
seconds, then began to move the sling backwards and forwards again. "Oh,
*thank* you, Sean. That was *utterly* wonderful. Even better than I thought
it would be."

"Two," he murmured.

"What do you mean, 'two'?" I asked, very puzzled.

"That was your second orgasm, though the first didn't really count. But in
case you hadn't noticed, I haven't come yet."

 "Well, pull out and change places and I'll make you come."

 "Oh no, I told you that you're not just going to come *once* while I fuck
you ... this is going to continue until I'm ready, and I plan on coming at
least twice while I'm inside you. You can come as often as you want to."

"But I can't come again, after that!" I exclaimed.

He smiled, wiped the handkerchief under his arms again, replaced it under
my nose, and resumed the gentle in and out rocking motion. "Don't you
believe it," he said, smiling mischievously.

* * *

I have no idea how long this continued until the flood overwhelmed me
again. I think I blacked out for a moment, shortly after I heard him say,
"Three."

When I became conscious again, I realised that his rigid cock was still
inside me, but he had stopped moving. "It's no good fucking you when you're
not awake to feel it, now is it?" he asked, teasingly. He moved again, just
once.

I gasped. "I love you, you crazy fucker, but one day I'm going to get you
in this position, and then milk you and milk you until you scream."

That did the trick. With an agonised yelp from Sean his cock throbbed
sharply three times inside me. He screwed up his face with the effort of
not pulling his over-sensitive tool out of me, but he kept shaking with
after-shocks. "Whoops, that was a bit sooner than I intended to come," he
panted, "you'll have to give me a minute to recover. But you should be nice
and slippery inside now." He took the handkerchief and wiped it round the
base of his embedded cock, bringing it away dripping with spunk, his now
combined with mine.

When he tucked it back under my nose, the combined odours of his armpit and
crotch sweat and all the cum nearly made me delirious with lust. Half my
mind said, 'Ask him to stop, I can't take any more.' The other half said,
'More, more, please!' But as he started to slide in and out again on the
river of cum I realised that I didn't have any choice in the matter: he was
going to continue fucking me until he came again, and I knew from
experience just how long that might take.

I relaxed as much as I could and prepared to enjoy myself, though the
extreme sensation was almost agonising. My prostate felt as if it had been
turned into soft jelly, though that jelly was so full of nerve-endings that
it registered each pass of his cock even with all the lubrication.

"Four" and "Five" passed in a blur of feelings and emotions. It wasn't so
much like two separate orgasms as like a continuous hour-long spasm. Just
as I was beginning to scream internally that I couldn't take any more, he
yelled at the top of his voice, "Oh Jethro, I love you, I love you, I love
you!" and his cock throbbed about ten times. The top half of his body
collapsed on to me, my cum and sweat from both of us getting squished
between our bellies.

We both made mindless murmuring noises for a while. I longed to put my arms
round him, though they were still firmly attached to the sling. Eventually
he stood up again and started to undo my bondage. "Put your arms round my
neck and grip your hands together firmly," he said, "you're going to need
help to get out of the sling." I did so, and he heaved me up to my feet. I
could scarcely stand, and continued to hang on to him (mind you, he wasn't
much steadier on his feet than me).

Like two drunks we staggered to the bed and collapsed in a heap. My mouth
sought out his, finding first his ear and then his eyebrow before reaching
its destination. Halfway through that first kiss I fell asleep.

9: Sunday

When I woke up I was alone on the bed. Dried cum was all over me and all
over the bed between my legs. I sniffed my armpits and had to admit that
they were a bit strong even for my tastes. Sean came in, threw the curtains
open, and set a tray of tea on the bedside table. After drinking the tea
and having a long hot shower I felt reinvigorated and raring to go, but
Sean was nowhere to be seen.

When he came back he'd found some croissants filled with smoked salmon from
somewhere, so we scoffed those and had some more tea. Sean knelt in front
of me (we were both still naked) and said quietly, "Well done for lasting
the week. I didn't think you could do it. Was it worth it?"

"I was quite sure I couldn't do it, going for a week without an orgasm, but
I managed. And yes, I don't think I've ever had such intense orgasms
before, and it was all because of you and achieved by you. I love you,
Sean. One day I'd like to try it again, but not *too* soon ..." I paused,
remembering the culmination of the week's sensations, as well as the horny
events during the week. "We'll have to rent that sling again so that I can
use it on you."

"Oh, no need - I bought it by mail-order using your credit card - so it's
ours. I just moved it into the spare room to be out of the way."

"Is there enough room to use it properly in there?"

"Just about, I think."

"Then you've got twenty seconds to be lying in that sling with your arse
lubed ready for me."

"But what about Steve?"

"Steve?" I said, very puzzled.

"Yes, I knew you'd be horny this morning (despite last night), so I invited
Steve to come round and play. It was obvious just how much he turned you
on, so I'll leave you to it. He should be waiting for you in the sling
now."

"Oh no you don't - I've got a *much* better idea," I said, grinning. "It's
*your* turn to be restrained in the sling while Steve and I get to know
each other *much* better. And if you're *very* good I'll get him to fuck
you while you're sucking me and tweaking my nipples, and I'm kissing him
over your helpless body. But that's *after* I fuck you to fill you with
nice smelly spunk so that his condom-covered cock slides in and out
nicely. And by the time he's finished fucking you, I'll be ready to go
again."

Sean's cock started leaking precum on to the floor ...