Date: Fri, 19 Jun 2009 15:19:42 +0000 (GMT)
From: tosserlad <tosserlad@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Chapter 2 Chav Geezer's Dog (urination/authoritarian M/M/M)

Hanging around the flat noonish on sunny Monday. No time, somehow, for a
wank before I got up today. So my cock has been half-thick and insistent
all morning. I like to let it all build up though - don't you? Just get the
feeling something could happen. Like any day really.

Watching the courtyard - surly, fit chav lads playing footie by the garage
block.  Very leaky for a perve cunt like me. Think about their morning
wanks in detail, pants, armpits, arses, sweaty kit. The expression on their
faces as they nut off. The spunked up sweaty sheets on their beds, spunk
tracks on their pants.  Scally dreamin again.

Maybe I need a phone wank with another perve. Yeah - that'd be good. Find
some other dirty sub cunt on the phone line and exchange filthy close-up
cock feeding fantasies; really have a good long slow edge up and squirt off
in my boxers.

Reach for the phone as it starts ringing. Oh what, it's only fucking Kevin!
This will be a treat.

"That you Dog?" ... pause. The lush young chav's surly voice, real menace
in the 'dog' word. A put down. A fit lad, standin over me and gobbing on
me. The spit hitting my face.

My dick jolts and leaks into my 3 day old red Bench boxer briefs.

"Alright Kev?"

I try to sound assertive - but I am cunted out by the sound of his
breath. I remember how he smells: how good I smell when he has used me
before. This is at least going to be a good wank.

"Get your fucking cunt down that pub at Stamford Brook. . . . You got
that?"

Fucking cool - a summons from Kevin. I have had a treatment in that pub
once before, late one afternoon in the toilet. Fucking hot.

"And bring a full wallet, me and Cam want a beer or two."

"Yeah, yeah, cool"

"Be there now!"

He disconnects.

Suddenly I am shaking with anticipation, nearly shitting myself with
excitement. Pull on some street clothes and drive a mile up the
road. Almost hyperventilating with lust and nervousness. Anticipating a
long submissive wait and then some delicious abuse.

What's Cam going to be like? Will I recognise him? Hope it doesn't get
fucked up.

Fuck! Hate to be this nervous. Can feel myself trembling as I walk to the
pub. Kev is sitting at a table on the street. There is another lad at the
table with him.

"Two pints of Stella here" Kevin announces as though I had offered. I am
standing beside them now. I look at Kevins face: relaxed, confident,
leering. "This is Cam" he gestures.

Cam is a fucking Sex God. I slowly take in all the detail. Long arms
sprawled out over a copy of the Sun, open at the sports pages. A stripey
blue and white Lacoste polo shirt - oversized - hanging loosely over his
wide shoulders, the sleeves cover builder boy arms. Large hands with long
fingers - fuck I am doped by the fitness of it already.

Cam is squatted with his young butt on the edge of the seat - legs spread
wide open. The polo shirt is untucked and looking down his back my eye is
dragged to his arse cleavage clearly visible. His buns are white, rounded
like two footballs - fuck imagine how they drive his knob in when he's
breeding. A red waistband on a pair of some kind of knitted white cotton
boxers. The waistband stretched across the muscular butt and then the
waistband of the blue, 3 stripe, adidas trackies. Long thick legs to the
sides of the table, a pair of size 11 or 12 Lacoste trainers. Really like
thin-soled, the emphasise the size and power of his flexed feet. Adidas
white sport socks. I want the soles of his street shoes in my face, him
gently pushing down on me the weight of that body.

His dirty blond/light brown hair is not stylishly cut. Just barbered
somewhere. No vanity. Totally confident. Always gets fucked when he wants
it. Clean shaven with maybe a day's stubble, maybe a bit ginger? Think
about the pubes. Wide apart blue eyes. Strong straight nose. Lovely thick
lips, moist and pink for snogging. Yes a total sex god. I look at the
crutch of his trackies, wanting to see sex. Nothing is evident from this
angle and with his legs spread apart.

This all takes about 2 seconds. But he has felt me looking, taking him in;
sizing him up. He gets it all the time, but he has still felt it. He has to
grin. How can he be this fit that people all look at him like this?
Whatever.

"See something you like?" Kevin interrupts my body scanning

"What?" Fuck, been busted perving already.

"Just get us the fucking beers will ya?" Kevin grins and winks, "plenty of
time for all that later matey"

I get the beers and Kevin and Cam (Cameron apparently) drink the first one
fast. The sun is warm. I am sent in for a second. They chat lazily about
some work related small stuff. They share camera phone pics of friends and
family.

I sit and try not to stare. I am beside Cameron whose leg occasionally
brushes against mine. He is doing that lad thing of slowly swinging his
legs open and closed. I am in a sweat just thinking about how the thick
thighs are opening and closing on the fat ball bag hanging in those sweaty
pants. Each flex of his legs stimulating his balls.

He is visibly half hard through the dark blue nylon, the thick form of his
cock down the top of his left leg. Just imagine the smell of his cock in
those pants as he works up a huge wad of seed. He will easily jack off or
fuck it into some lucky bitch later. There is plenty of sex banter as they
get to the end of the second pint.

Then one for the road. A couple of cigarettes are smoked, being we are
sitting on the street. The paper has been put away -- folded and stuck into
the back pocket on Kevin's grey trackies. Young women walk past attracting
their attention with a lack of clothing. Occasional `ooh, nice', `aw fuck
that's fit man', `fuckin like to plant some in that mate'.

Both of them now with their legs more closed but one leg jostling their
bollocks incessantly as they horn up to the passing talent.

I am almost in a coma with the closeness of rough sex. I know, even if it
is imagination, that I can smell Cam's cock. The stale piss on his long
foreskin. The leaking pre cum beading at the piss slit. The musky sweat
from his last wank radiating from his crutch. I can certainly smell the
sweat from his arm pits.

I am M E L T I N G with queer lust.

"Alrite then geezer?" Cam turns to me.

"Yeah" I am breathy with nervousness.

"Ta for the beers then" he says.

"No worries mate -- my pleasure"

"Kev says you'd like em back"

"Sorry"

"Kevin. He tells me you would like the beers back"

I look at Kevin and then around to see what is happening. Am I about to get
mugged or what?

Cam's tone changes and he turns and leans across closer to me. I can feel
his beery breath on my ear:

"Go inside, downstairs and wait in the mens. You will be squatted at the
trough, or in the lock up. You chose cunt. Got it?"

Kevin seeing this exchange coughs to conceal a kind of laugh.

I get up and walk through the bar to the back. There are toilets on the
ground floor. But another mens in the basement by the bar that's only open
at night. I go down the stair case and into the toilet. The only lighting
comes from a street level louvered window. I can make out a steel urinal
with a gutter, probably big enough for four blokes to stand at. There is
also a very dark cubicle. It doesn't smell too bad.

Wondering if this is a total wind up I walk up to the urinal. What if I am
just going to be left here -- they already left? Or someone else comes in?

But then turn my back to the urinal and lean back against it. I squat there
right in front of it on my haunches. I can hear the stairs creaking. The
door slowly opens and they are both here. Two feet in front of me. The
scent of men is suddenly in the air. Cam has his long right hand down the
front of his trackies. Kevin leans back on the door.

"Kev tells me you a bit of a dog mate"

He is standing over me, he must be 6foot 2. He looks huge. I can smell his
closeness. I look down at the white trainers, mesmerised. He gobs on
me. Hard. A thick ball of spit from his lovely fit gob, lands with a warm
splat on my face.

I try not to blush with pleasure, but it's quite dark so maybe it doesn't
matter.

He pulls his hand out from under the waistband and turns it towards my
face, waving the fingers under my nose.

"What do you smell dog? Tell me, exactly'

I inhale the long warm male fingers. This better than any poppers. My brain
takes the hit.

"I can smell your sex ... your sweat .... maybe some piss .....  maybe some
cum ..... maybe even some girl's cunt."

He gobs on me again. I can smell him in the spit. It's right on my upper
lip and I play with it with my tongue savouring him.

He takes the hand back and smells it himself. "Good dog. So you know I knob
cunt then don't you?"

"Yes Cam. Of course I know you knob cunt"

"Very good. Well I am going to treat you to some used Stella now" turning
over his shoulder, he says "What about you Kev, is this right?"

"Let's go for it Cam -- got 3 pints here"

It's a bit as though I am not there now -- they are alone at the urinal.

"Does he take his clothes off?"

"Nah. Bit too risky too eh?"

Cam steps back and lifting his right foot he pushes me using his foot on my
shoulder. I smell his foot and the street on his shoe and my cock oozes in
my pants.

I lose my balance and slip from squatting to having my arse in the gutter
of the urinal. My face is directly in front of his sex. With one movement
hooking his thumb under the waistband of his pants he pulls down the front
of the trackies.

First I am hit by the smell of a fit 23 year old man's cock that has been
trapped in his pants all morning -- "fucking wow boys" it just comes out.

"Told you this was a real queer cunt Cam" smirked Kevin

"Fuck dog -- no one ever said that smelling my dirty cock before!"

I leaned forward and chewed on the fingers of his right hand as they held
down the front of his clothing. The taste of sweat and cock on his
fingers. My face just an inch from his warm hairy sack of spunk makers,
jostled to a full tightness over the last hour or so. The ripe stale cotton
of his underwear soaked in stale cock scent. `Fucking heaven'

Without any announcement beyond a small grunt I felt a torrent of gushing
hot piss start playing over the top of my head. First falling down onto my
clothing and soaking through my tee shirt. Hot, wet, smelling of lad,
stream down my back and chest soaking the waistband of my trackies then my
own underwear and draining under my arse into the gutter. He played the
stream over my face when I turned it up towards him but he was not looking
at me. I kissed his hand as he held the cock and took the loose nozzle of
foreskin into my mouth. I gobbled the strong warm flow allowing my mouth to
fill and then swallowing some and allowing some to run down my chin and
into the stream.

As he drained himself he stood motionless in front of me. I was storing as
many images as I could. The unforgettable sights and smells as this
progressed. The close up cock, foreskin. The thick dark bush. The smell of
sweat and sex on the underside of his full balls. God I want that spunk
really bad.

Kevin is now suddenly there. The now familiar smell of my keeper's
sex. Huge uncut white trash cock flopping in my face. He gobs on me twice
heavily. Brilliant lad slime. He showers me in a huge second load of piss.

"Smelling so good now lads . . . . fuck I could drown happily in this" I am
drenched in men's piss.

Kevin wipes his cock round my face - the foreskin slips back and I try to
catch his knob in my mouth, but no luck. He tucks his cock back into his
primart boxers and hauls up the trackies. He gobs on me a final time.

"Good dog . . . .  but you fucking stink" he laughs.

"Just gonna step in here for a sec". Cam has backs away and walked into the
lock up -- his cock flopping half hard in front of him.

"See you upstairs then mate" says Kevin as he leaves.

Footsteps going up the stairs. I sit in the piss drenched gutter and wait
to see if I can hear the sound of Cam taking a dump. I am just going to
wank myself off to that.

My hand in my piss soaked Bench boxas sniffing piss and working my load
off.

"Oi dog, come here a mo!"

I myself onto my knees and then scoot forward to the door of the cubicle.

Cam is not taking a dump. He is leaning against the wall with his hips
thrust forward in full lewd wank.

"Lick my bollocks, dog." An order. Brilliant

I can't believe my luck. I am already nearly squirting off.

"That's it. Come on"

I crawl into the lock up in front of him. I can smell sex stink on him. The
cock scent has moved from `ready to fuck' (like all the lads on the tube in
the summer), to `ready to breed' (you are fucking lucky to smell this).

The knob is obscenely curved and thick now it's hard: I imagine him fucking
me, steering it into me, slippery, hot, veiny. The ball sack hitting my
arse as he lunges into me.

So I lean towards him and my mouth opens around his jerking
bollocks. Breathe warm onto them. Fuck mate they smell so good. With my
nose in his thick pissy blond bush I work my tonge on his full sack and
down towards his musky sweaty lad arse. Nice thick hair, lush taste.

"God Cam your bollocks are fucking lovely mate. You got a proper wad of
spunk there, I bet"

He is somewhere else. The right hand has his cock in the grip he learned
how to please himself best with. I am just there to make the spunk squirt
harder and thicker. I will do that. He will enjoy this dirty urgent nut.

He stops two or three times, maybe to build to a better climax. I am now
feeding again on that lush nozzle of foreskin, except now it is stretched
over the fat slippery helmet of his sex. The piss slit is really deep in
the cleft of the head. I need to feed on its slime.

At the fourth pause I think his bollocks are going retract into his
body. They are so tight and excited. The sex stink is so full on now. He is
hot -- heat is radiating of his legs. His cock is now twitching as he
approaches release. He grabs my head while I am nursing gently nibbling on
the bell end and he forces the thick shaft full into my mouth.

"Aw you fucking stink of my piss you dirty cunt" he gasps.

His thick white trash knob breaks through my gagging reflex. There I am
drowning on his breeder spunk pumping into my gullet. The cock twitching
and thrusting and his bell end locked in my throat. I am going to drown if
I can't breathe soon. I feel 7 or 8 distinct thick ropes of spunk squirt
for the deep piss slit. Then he pulls out and smacks my face painting me
with the remaining generous warm sperm.

Finally I get to smell and taste the slimy product that is now in my belly.

That just makes me spunk off into my piss soaked pants.

Cam is tucking himself away. No interest in what I may have done.

"Nice one mate". He has adjusted his clothing and is texting on his cell
phone

"See ya then mate", he's gone.

The door closes, stairs creak. I am in total heaven. Drenched and stinking
of two men's piss; nearly drowned in fit lad spunk. My face painted with
sperm and spit in my hair.

Now have to get out in this state.  I can brave it out as I don't actually
care what anyone thinks. I am shameless about having sex this good. It
doesn't matter.

I get to the car after a lot of staring and even some pointing. A couple of
turned up noses -- so fucking what. There's a text message. From
Kevin. Time to pay for my pleasure. Whatever.

Does it get any better than this?

Maybe. You tell me.

But that was fucking good.

Cheers

tosserlad@yahoo.co.uk