Ben is Searching for Sex Ch. 03

It's 1971 and college student Ben has come up to London, hoping for a weekend of sex; and he's found it in the person of Chris, a young man similar in age and looks. After enjoying a hot threesome with him and an older man, Ben followed Chris home for a wonderful night of bondage, tit torture, cock sucking and being fucked by his dominant new friend.

After we'd stopped playing in the small hours I fell straight to sleep and was dead to the world until I woke up to him twisting my nipples. Coming to, I could feel his warm body was still pressed up against mine as we lay together in the spooning position. Startled, I squealed and earnt myself a hand over my mouth to silence me.

"Shush mate, keep quiet, my Mum's up and around and she'll have put her hearing aids in by now."

Which reminded me of the most extraordinary fact regarding our previous night's antics; while we were sucking and fucking, his hard-of-hearing-mother was asleep just down the hall. I hadn't been sure if he was spinning me a line last night, but since he'd said it again, I figured it must be the truth.

However, I pushed that fact to the back of my mind when I felt his hard cock push its insistent way between my thighs. Soon the fast, deliberate thrusts and the sound of heavy breathing had me concerned; was he going to waste this juicy morning erection by rubbing one out between my thighs? Greedily, I realised that if I was going to be involved in his upcoming orgasm, I was going to have to do something about it quick. I whispered a desperate appeal.

"Put it in me, please Chris. Do me like you did last night."

"You randy bugger; you didn't get enough last night?"

"Last night was wonderful. I want more, please."

"All right, get a move on. Grease that hole quick or I'll get off without you."

Luckily, the lube was in easy reach on the bedside table on my side of the bed. Once I'd plunged my fingers in the jar, and lubed myself up in record time, he rolled me over onto my stomach. Roughly shoving my legs apart and shoving a pillow under my groin to raise my ass up, his hard dick went straight into my hole and didn't stop until its entire length was inside me.

Pushing me down into the mattress with his hands on my shoulders, he pounded away, using his dick as a club. In response, I rose up to meet him, while, by the sound of it, he was enjoying himself just as much as me. He pummeled away furiously for a few minutes until eventually coming to a halt and pulling out. Sounding out of breath, he hissed at me,

"Fuck it, mate; your cunt's so tight, it squeezed the cum right out of me. Fuck it, roll over and open that cock sucking mouth, quick!"

I immediately did what I was told, and a millisecond later, his groin landed smack on my face, with the first blob of pent-up cum spilling onto my cheek. Then, stuffing his dick between my lips he squirted the rest of his load into my open, waiting mouth.

After I'd swallowed everything he had to give, he pulled his dick away and moved off to one side. Noticing how hard my cock still was and how much pre cum it was leaking; he asked if I was going to have a wank. I told him no; I'd had a great time but I didn't need to climax, I just wanted to enjoy the taste of him on my tongue. Giving me a quizzical look, he leant forward to get a taste of himself by giving me a kiss.

He disappeared into the bathroom and I followed him ten minutes later. As we got dressed he told me he was going to tell his Mum that we'd met at the pub a few weeks earlier, had seen each other a few times since and had arranged to go to the Wolves match together that afternoon.

"It might be better if she doesn't know you're a total slut who opens his legs on the first date."

When I stared open-mouthed in shock, he grinned and said he was just joking, and that I didn't need to worry about his Mum; she was a sweetie. I nervously followed him down the stairs, very much unsure of the welcome I'd get from her. After all, she must know I'd spent the night in her son's bed; what would she think the two of us had been up to?

But, when I stepped into the kitchen alongside Chris, I was greeted, not with a suspicious scowl, but with a welcoming smile and an invitation to sit down at the table. She seemed to accept the cover story Chris had outlined upstairs, and after making a few motherly remarks to her son, busied herself making breakfast for "my boys" as I was surprised to hear her call us.

Soon she'd served up brimming plates of sausage and bacon, fried eggs and tomatoes, baked beans and toast. Since I'd existed on soup and chicken broth for days to make sure my insides were perfectly empty I tore into it. Thankfully, Chris gulped his serving down even quicker than me; so rather than being shocked by my greediness, she smiled and asked if I wanted more.

After filling our cups with fresh tea, she sat down and began asking a few questions, clearly interested in this new friend of her son. She'd soon ferreted all sorts of information out of me; so much that Chris told her to "stop with the third degree".

"Chris dear, don't say that. It's not often I get to meet one of your friends, and Ben seems like such a nice boy."

As usual, I was a hit with a motherly older lady, the kind who likes boys to be quiet, polite and well behaved. She smiled across the table at me, making me blush hot with embarrassment when I caught the smirk on Chris's face. Was he wondering, like me, what her opinion of me would be if she knew what I'd let her son do to me last night or had heard me beg to get fucked half an hour before I sat down at her table?

Chris's interruption had the effect of stopping the friendly interrogation and we swerved onto the subject of today's football game instead. As we did so, she suddenly looked at her watch and spoke up,

"Oh dear, here I am nattering away to you boys and I almost forgot little Janice's dress. I promised to take it over to her this morning. She's going to a birthday party and I said I'd let the waist out 'cos she's growing. I'd better get on or Evie's sure to moan at me for being late."

"Ah, that Evie's a right bitch. You do all this for her and get no thanks."

"I know, but I love my grand-kiddies too much to keep away. If I catch the bus now I'll be back in time to make you boys a nice lunch. You don't want to be standing on those cold terraces with an empty stomach."

"Hang on, Mum, don't be dragging yourself all over town. I'll pop over there; it's only ten minutes if I go on my bike."

Five minutes later he'd roared away on his Triumph motorcycle, leaving me at the kitchen table to have a surprising conversation with his Mum.

"I don't often get to meet Chris's friends. He has boys over sometimes, but he usually gets them out in the morning before I'm up. I've met a couple, but this is the first time he's had anyone stay for breakfast. He must like you, Ben; otherwise he wouldn't have left you here with me, would he!

"Like I said just now, you seem like a nice boy, and he was looking at you with real affection in his eyes just now. I hope you like him as much as he seems to like you.

"Christopher's a very bright boy, but it affected him bad when his Dad died when he was only sixteen. He had a hard time at school after that and didn't do as well as he should've. A clever college boy for a friend would be a good thing; he needs a bright boy like you to talk to and be friends with, not just to have sex with."

This was astounding to hear. Not only was she aware of what her son was doing with men in his bedroom, but at a time when most people were actively hostile to the mere idea of homosexuality, this Cockney mother seemed to be encouraging a man-to-man relationship between her son and me. I managed to stammer out a few words about how much I liked Chris and that if he wanted, I'd like to spend lots of time with him. She smiled, stretched her hands across the table and held mine as she continued.

"I've known that Chris was different ever since he was a teenager. Another Mum down the road caught him and her son together. She thought it was just a phase, and maybe it was for her boy, but I could tell it was a fact of life for Chris. He's the baby of the family and my favourite; after we had a good long heart-to-heart, he convinced me to let him be the way he is.

"I'm really not as tolerant as I sound; I'm not sure what I'd have thought or done if he was my only son. But his older brothers married young, and gave me five grand babies already. That's enough for me to be going on with, and to be honest I'm relieved that Chris won't add any more to the total.

"Sorry dear, I've been talking my head off and haven't given you a chance to say a word."

"Well, like I said, I really like Chris. I'd love to see him every time I come up to London. I hope he thinks the same as I do."

I was getting way ahead of myself. One night with a hot boy and I'd fallen so deeply for him that I'd just told his Mum I wanted to be his regular long distance fuck; how crazy was that?

We sat silently together for a few moments, each digesting this extraordinary conversation, until there was the sound of a motorbike, followed by Chris's appearance at the back door.

"That took a long time, love."

"I couldn't get away. Usually she doesn't give me the time of day, buy today she decides to get chatty. She said to be sure to tell you the dress fit perfect, Mum."

"Oh, thank goodness for that. Now, you boys go on into the front room while I get your lunch ready."

Being good boys, we did what we were told and left her to it. Sitting on the settee together, I asked about the motorbike and was told he'd bought it off his older brother when the latter had married the notorious Evie. I pretended to be interested in its mechanical details, none of which I understood, and was saved by his Mum calling us in for another giant meal.

Even though Upton Park was only a fifteen minute walk from their house, we left two hours before kickoff so we could have a pint with some fellow Hammers fans at a pub on the way. Of course they gave him heck when they found out he'd brought a Wolves supporter into their midst! But it was all in good fun and after downing our beers, we left in a happy group, joining the eager throngs of West Ham fans flooding the streets.

After going through the turnstiles we went up to his regular spot, high up on the terrace, leaning against a railing, with me standing in front of him. A bigger crowd than expected turned up that afternoon and by kick off time, thousands of fans were packed all around us. With so many squeezed together, no one could see me shove my bum back up into his groin or Chris slide his hand under the waistband of my jeans. I was worried someone might notice, but it felt so good that I did nothing to stop him. He kept his hand there for most of the first half, either fondling my cheeks or rubbing a finger down my crack, only pulling away at half time when the men around us began heading for the toilets.

Sadly we weren't able to repeat our naughty maneuvers during the second half, but he was happy when the Hammers won. Even though the Wolves lost, I couldn't complain; it had been an exciting game and I'd had my bum fondled for most of the first half! That almost made up for my team losing!

Saying goodbye to his pals, we set out for home and as we got close, saw his Mum rushing towards us.

"Hello boys, sorry I can't stop. I'm off to babysit for Alice. Her and Robbie are off to the pictures. I'll see you boys later, will I luv?"

"Maybe, I don't know, Mum, don't stay up. We're going up to town and if we run into the Professor we might let us bunk at his place. Anyway, say hello to Alice for me."

As I stood wondering who exactly the "Professor" was, she smiled at me, kissed her son and walked quickly away. Once she was round the corner, Chris whispered,

"Well, thanks to my other sister-in-law you're getting fucked a damn sight quicker than I planned."

We were only five minutes away from his front door, but still, I could hardly wait to get upstairs, and by the time we'd entered his bedroom I already had my shirt off. Soon I was naked and once his underwear was off, I fell to my knees with my mouth open.

But instead of letting swallow his cock, he sat down on the edge of his bed with a smirk on his face and told me to come and lie across his lap.

"You said last night you'd let me do anything I wanted. Well, that big fat, juicy bum of yours deserves to be punished for teasing me all afternoon. It needs a good spanking. Come on, over my lap, now!"

Once I was in position with my hands on the floor and my stiff cock poking between his legs, he rubbed his hand gently across my ass for a few moments then brought it down hard. It was the start of a serious spanking, with blows alternating on each cheek. Every couple of times, he'd lick his finger, trail it along my crease and push it into my hole; but those moments were just temporary relief, making the contrast between them and the succeeding blow that much harder.

Although I was reduced to tears long before he'd finished, my perverted cock betrayed me, staying as hard by the time of his last slap as at the first, something he was quick to point that out when he pushed me off his lap and stood me up in front of him.

"Blimey, look at that dick! Couldn't get any harder could it! Love being disciplined, don't you."

I nodded shamefacedly and muttered "Yes, Sir" through my sniffles, earning me an even wider grin on his face.

"OK, give us a twirl; give us another look at that bum."

Doing so earnt me an appreciative whistle,

"Wow that looks good enough to fuck. Up on the bed, you randy sod! I've been waiting all day to fuck you again. "

I jumped up and knelt on the bed, with my head resting on my arms and my reddened ass sticking up in the air. Relying on the work his finger had already done, he lubed his dick, gripped my hips tightly and burst his steel-hard cock through my overpowered defenses, not stopping till his hips slammed up against my backside.

I bit down hard on a pillow so his neighbours wouldn't hear my squeals, since he hadn't been joking about how eager he was. The previous fucks were almost gentle compared to the fast, hard, rough going-over he gave me this time.

Unfortunately it soon became obvious that, being so worked up, he wouldn't last too long. Pretty soon I felt the wild pounding coming to a halt with a long drawn-out sigh, even as his fingers continued to hold my hips in a steely grip. A moment later I felt his cock jerking around inside me as he presented me with his fifth load of cum in less than twenty four hours.

Once he pulled out I collapsed onto the bed and lay motionless for a short time, overcome with excitement. After a little while I thought I'd roll onto my back and give my semi-neglected cock some well-deserved attention. But then he warned me that he wasn't finished.

"Hang on there, don't move."

He pulled open the bedside table drawer containing his playthings and fished out a butt plug; though thankfully, not the giant one he'd pushed into me the night before. This was smaller, just big enough to stay in me and stop his cum from leaking. Given what my hole had just been put through, it popped in easily enough.

He still wasn't finished. Lying down beside me, he rolled me onto my side, threw his arm over my chest and shoved his warm, sweaty body up against my back. I thought for a moment or two that he intended for us to enjoy a nice post-orgasmic nap, but instead he rubbed his groin up against my sore bum and begin to twist my nipples, jerk the butt plug around and fondle my cock and balls.

Already in sex heaven after being spanked and fucked I offered no resistance whatsoever as he kept me dangerously close to the edge, always being careful to stop the moment it looked like my cock would explode. After thoroughly exhausting me, he eventually pulled away and let me roll onto my back.

"So, how're you feeling, mate? Do you want me to get you off?"

I hesitated for a moment or two. Having him make me cum sounded wonderful, but it would mean our playtime was over. I desperately wanted to stay aroused and excited, ready for whatever else came up, so just like I decided that morning, I still refused his help.

"Thanks. I've had the best time ever, and I want to stay feeling just like I do now. Once I cum I'll feel let down. You OK with that?"

"Course it is, you randy bugger. If you stay like this all night I'll be happy. You're so wound up, every fucking thing I do gets you going."

"Oh, I'm a mess. All you have to do is touch me and I go crazy. I love.... it."

There was a long gap after the word "love" because I wanted to say "you" and daren't. I was totally in love in love with him by now, but was worried I'd frighten him off. This was the first time I'd felt so strongly about another man, so my emotions were desperately raw and I didn't want to be disappointed by his reaction.

I must have sounded a little crazy, since he gave me a questioning look before leaning over to give me a sloppy kiss. He got up off the bed, went across the room to open the doors to a large wardrobe in the corner, sorted through some hanging items and turned to me holding a pair of black leather trousers.

"My brother Bobby used to be skinnier than you are until that bitch Evie got hold of him. And now he's so bloody fat none of his old clothes fit. Not that he has any use for these since she made him sell his bike."

He chucked them across the room to me.

"Here, try these on; if they fit, you'll be wearing 'em tonight at the Coleherne."

These were the kind of leather trousers that motorbike riders wore, thick enough to serve as protection from cuts and scrapes, but still skintight. This was my first time wearing leather pants and I couldn't believe how good they felt, especially without underwear. I drifted off to a world of my own, rubbing my hands up and down my legs, savouring the cool slickness of the material against my skin, until I noticed Chris was grinning at me.

"Like that leather? I'll bet you do. The way your bum looks in them is going to turn heads tonight."

I didn't just like leather, I loved it! I was even more excited (if that were possible) when he dressed in his own leather trousers on and stood before me in all his glory. But while I ogled him, I remembered the questions I wanted answers to.

"Who's the Professor you told your Mum we might stay with? And what's the Coleherne?

"It's the hottest leather bar in London, and it's where I met the Professor a couple of years ago. He's a very clever bloke, he teaches chemistry at one of the University colleges, and he's a real take-charge bloke who's taught me to accept my nature about being a dominant partner during sex. My Mum's never actually met him, but I've told her a few things about him and let her think he's a bit of a replacement father figure. She says she's noticed an improvement in me since I met him, which might be true, but more like I'm just getting older. What she definitely doesn't know is what a fucking hot Daddy he is!"

That sounded exciting, and I couldn't wait to meet this new person. But then I got nervous. The leather had already had an alarming effect on my cock; how was I going to sit on a Tube train all across London with a butt plug up my arse and an obvious erection highlighted by these skin-tight trousers? Figuring I should at least pull the butt plug out of my arse and put my underwear back on, I started taking the trousers off. But when he saw what I was doing, Chris barked at me.

"Oh, no you don't; you go commando tonight. The only thing under those trousers is that butt plug. And no more pawing at yourself, you'll be cumming before we even leave the house!"

After shirts and boots, he got out his leather biker jacket and handed me his brother's, easing my mind since it meant we were driving across London on motorbike, not travelling on the Underground.

Setting off for Earl's Court, the Coleherne's neighbourhood, I held on tight, with my arms around his waist, while squirming with arousal as I rested my head on his shoulder. The motion of the bike and the thrum of the engine meant that the butt plug kept jolting my A spot, constantly exciting me.

After crossing London we arrived in Earl's Court, where he parked his bike on a side street and led me towards the pub. As we neared our destination, he turned and stared questioningly into my eyes, acting nervous for the first time since I'd met him.

"I've never brought a bloke here with me before. I usually come on my own, play the field, flirt with likely punters and occasionally take one home. I hope the Professor's here tonight, cos I really like you and want him to meet you. Is it OK with you still?"

The only thing I heard in that moment was him saying that "really likes" me? Of course," like" isn't the same as "love" but it was near enough for me. After all, we were a couple of blokes, not silly, romantic girls, so I couldn't expect him to act all lovey-dovey with me. More than happy enough with what he said, I tried to act nonchalant.

"Of course; hey, look, I've had a bloody great time. I really like you too, mate."

Far too nervous to tell him what I was really thinking, I stared into his eyes for a few moments, before he turned away and lead me through the front door of the Coleherne, where we were immediately hit with a dense cloud of tobacco smoke, unfortunate evidence that the concept of smoking bans lay many years in the future.

I followed him through the dense crowd up to the bar and while we waited to be served, he scanned the crowd through the haze, trying to catch sight of his "Professor". Pretty quickly he nudged me and pointed out a very tall middle aged man leaning against the wall at the back of the room.

"There he is, see him? Over in the back corner."

He caught sight of Chris at that same moment, and promptly smiled and nodded in return. Chris was so happy to see him that I told him to go, and I'd wait for our drinks. Chris didn't hesitate, quickly forcing his way through the packed Saturday night crowd, leaving me trying to get the barmen's attention. That turned out to take quite a long time, and while I stood waiting, I noticed that each time I looked in their direction, Chris would be talking and both of them would be staring at me. Once I managed to get one of the barmen to pull me two pints, I set out with glasses in hand across the crowded room, trying not to spill them and nervous about meeting this important person in Chris's life.

My journey across the room became quite an odyssey. A lot of the guys in the pub that night were middle-aged or older, many of whom had a keen interest in young men wearing leather. Avoiding spilling the beer meant running through a gauntlet, with my leather clad bum rubbed, squeezed and even slapped as I squirmed my way through. By the time I arrived at Chris and his Prof they were clearly amused at my flustered embarrassment.

After mumbling a quiet "Hello Sir" to the Professor, I remained pretty much tongue-tied for the next few minutes, as the two of them brought each other up to date on their activities. While they talked I took note of Chris's Professor, staring intently at him. It looked like he was the tallest man in the place; a good six inches taller than my own six feet, with a ruddy complexion and reddish hair, a trim goatee and mustache. He wore a leather bar vest over a long-sleeve black shirt, blue jeans and boots. I found him very attractive in a stern, masterly way.

Once they'd caught up, the Professor turned to me with a smile and remarked on how long it had taken me to attract the attention of the barmen.

"Those two can be real bitches. They've worked here for years and they always take care of their old regulars first. If you don't stand up to them they'll walk all over you. But then, quiet boys such as you find it hard to push yourself forward."

The dance had begun; right away he was implying that I was submissive; was that what he and Chris been talking about while I waited at the bar? What had he heard about our activities and how submissive I really was? Had Chris brought me here just to meet him, or did he have something more exciting in mind. Knowing I'd better be careful, I figured I'd better confirm my exact place in the sexual pecking order.

"No sir, I'm passive about a lot of things. I don't push myself forward enough, people say."

"Well, don't be led too easily or you'll find yourself in trouble."

"I try to be careful, sir. But I like trouble sometimes, and it does seem to find me."

He smirked and let things hang in the air for a moment, but I sensed he was warming to me. Chris broke the silence by telling him that I was wearing his brother's leathers, and how much better my bum looked in them than his brother's had. After asking me to turn around and show him, the Professor promptly felt me up, murmuring compliments while rubbing his hands all over my leathery bum and finding the protruding flange of the butt plug.

"Juicy, but firm; just the way a boy's bum should be; and a little addition in there, too; very nice."

I hoped I'd passed some sort of "examination" and felt more certain that Chris had brought me to see the Prof with more than just conversation in mind. It wasn't too long before the latter proved me right by extending an invitation to come back to his place.

"I know how fast you speed along on that motorbike of yours, Christopher. By the time I'd hailed a taxi, you'll already be at my house. You don't need to rush out of here; spend some time sightseeing, you have the rest of the night to show me your young man."

With that, he slowly pushed his way through the crowd, greeting various other men as he went, and leaving me in a state of nervous excitement. I really needed to know what he and Chris had talked while I waited for those beers. What did this invitation to his house mean? What was going to happen there? What was it about me that Chris was going to show him?

But when I faced Chris, eager to ask him those very questions, Chris shook his head.

"I know you're got lots of questions, but trust me, I promise you won't be disappointed. You'll have a great time; just behave yourself, be respectful and do what he tells you."

Accepting that he wasn't going to enlighten me further, I relaxed and stood alongside him for the next half hour, cruising and being cruised by some of the sexy men in the crowd that night. Once we'd finished our beers, we headed for the door, to the obvious disappointment of some mature customers, always sorry to see young men exiting.

I hung onto him on the back of the bike as he drove along main roads and side streets, parking a few minutes later outside a small cottage in a quiet part corner of Chelsea, not far from the river. I followed Chris through a half open front door and after we'd hung up our jackets in the hallway, he led me into the living room, where the Professor, wearing a dressing-gown and puffing away at his pipe, greeted us.

"Ah, there you are, boys. Don't let's waste any time with formalities and chatter. Your stuff's in its usual place, Christopher. Go on up while I see about Ben."

After anxiously watching a silent Chris walk out of the room heading for his "stuff" (whatever that was!) I turned my attention to the Professor, who put down his pipe, rose up out of his armchair and came to stand in front of me.

"Well my boy, nothing's going to happen to you with your clothes on."

Keen to make a good impression, I tore my shirt off and knelt down to take off my boots. Glancing up and catching him staring down at me, I got so nervous that my fingers turned into thumbs as I fumbled with the laces. I had to take a deep breath and gather myself in order to untie them, which got him annoyed at the time I was taking.

Being naked in front of such a dominating older man should have made my cock rock-hard, proof of my normal submissive arousal. But, somehow, the combination of the silly business with the laces and my desperate need not to let Chris down made me so anxious that my penis shriveled up as if it had been standing under a freezing cold shower. As if that weren't bad enough, I wanted to drop into a hole in the ground when the Professor saw it and said.

"Oh dear, that's not all there is, I hope?"

Totally humiliated, all I could do was clasp my hands in front of me, stare at the floor and mumble,

"It's bigger than this usually, really it is, but I'm nervous tonight, sir, very nervous."

"Well, get over yourself, son. And don't be stupid; I've already seen your little penis so there's no point in hiding it now. Put your arms down by your sides so I can get a good look at the rest of you."

I stood with my eyes closed; silently wishing Chris had never brought me there. The Prof walked around me, and put his hands on my body; starting with the shoulders and going down my arms and my back, before stopping at my bum, jiggling and pinching my cheeks, and twisting the butt plug around.

"This is better; your buttocks are your best attribute; plump yet firm. No wonder Christopher enjoyed spanking them and slipping his penis into that little pink hole of yours. Speaking of which, how many times has he buggered you so far?"

"Five times, sir."

My instant answer clearly amused him.

"Didn't have to think about that, did you; keeping score as you go along, I suppose. Proud that such an attractive young man wants to fuck you so often, I'll bet.'

As he talked he was fondling my body and working the plug around, which thankfully resulted in him noticing that my frightened, shriveled-up cock had grown fully erect.

"Ah ha, so that's what it's like unfurled. Not a bad length for a submissive boy; long enough that masters have something to hold onto, but not so big that the contrast might embarrasses them. And already leaking like a tap, I see."

Staring into my eyes, he gathered a big blob of pre cum from its top and dropped it on my tongue.

"Like that taste, do you?"

"Yes sir, I do, sir."

"Not as much as Christopher's though, I'll bet."

"No, sir; he tastes a lot better."

So far he'd hardly touched me, just fondled my body while questioning me about Chris. Was he a voyeur who'd he brought us home to watch Christopher fuck me, or was it Chris who wanted him to watch?

But all suspicions of him being a "Peeping Tom" were eradicated when his hand moved to my chest and twisted a nipple. When his other hand grabbed hold of my other tit, I wasn't able to stifle a loud excited moan.

"Like that do you, eh? Christopher told me how naughty you are. I'm going to enjoy playing with you."

As he stood pulling on my tits, I caught sight of Chris standing in the doorway holding a jar of KY; a vision of sexiness in a black leather chest harness, skin-tight leather chaps and an engorged dick. Noticing my enthralled stare, the Professor turned his head.

"Ah there you are, Christopher. You were right about the boy loving nipple play. His penis has been bouncing up and down from the moment I touched them."

After tugging on them for a few seconds more, he turned away and sat back down in his armchair. Getting comfortable, he beckoned me over.

"On your knees, boy, crawl over here. I want to see what you can do."

I dropped to the floor, scrambled over to kneel in front of him, eager to see what lay between his legs. He pulled his dressing gown apart and spread them, exposing his underwear, though not the big lump that lay hidden by it.

I glanced up with a questioning look, earning a sharp retort.

"Well, don't just sit there looking blank, you silly boy. Pull it out, my prick won't suck itself!"

Leaning forward, I grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled downwards, giving me my first view of what he was hiding under his clothes. I'd figured there'd be something to see and I wasn't disappointed. His cock was the same length as Chris's, but half as thick again, with a massive pair of balls hanging below it.

I fell back onto my haunches, staring in awe as it hardened and its pink head peeked out from its long foreskin cover. I knelt there, rendered immobile for a few seconds, admiring the sight before me, and then lunged forward, eager to take it between my lips.

But, in the millisecond before my mouth reached its target, he put his hand in the way.

"Not yet, start on the balls. I'm pretty sweaty down there and they need a good cleaning. Get to work."

That was no problem; men's balls were almost as thrilling to me as their cocks. I loved being in between a man's legs to feel the heat and to take in the taste and smell. In the Professor's case, there was not only the scent of male sweat but also the lingering scent of the leathers he'd worn to the Coleherne. Loving all of it, I stuck out my tongue, eager to slurp it all up.

While doing so, I became keenly aware of Chris kneeling behind me. Since the butt plug had been in me for three hours by then, Chris dripped lube down my ass crack before tugging on it. Not surprisingly given the amount of work my ass had recently been put through, it popped out easily enough. His KY-coated fingers immediately took its place while I tried to concentrate on the task of licking the Professor from balls to taint.

Feeling Chris's fingers and tasting the Professor gave me a flashback to the previous night, when Trevor sucked my cock while I watched Chris fucking him. I'd desperately wished then that I was the one in the middle and now it was happening; Chris's cock, which I'd got to know so well, was going to enter me while I sucked cock.

I could feel his stiffness rubbing up and down my crack, tantalizing me. But just when I was sure he was ready to enter me, the Professor pushed my mouth away, and offered him the use of a bottle of poppers. That was exciting; Chris had told me he was a professor of chemistry; so he was bound to have really good poppers, right?

Chris opened the bottle and held it under each of my nostrils for a long time, instantly proving just how strong they were. I'd been fed poppers a few times before, but these were by far the strongest I'd ever experienced. They had an instant effect of me; my brain felt light headed, almost dizzy, while the rest of my body relaxed.

Looking into my eyes, the Professor took full advantage of what he saw in them and promptly shoved his cock straight to the back of my throat. Seeing him do that, Chris ceased tantalizing my hole and pushed right in, meeting no resistance, just eager acceptance.

This was what I'd been hoping for; from the moment I'd seen the Professor back at the pub; to be thoroughly dominated by these hot men. I spent the next few minutes being happily abused; my throat choked by the Professor's big cock as Chris pounded my ass as harder as ever.

Regular hits of poppers helped, but even without them, I would have taken everything they threw at me; I was in sub heaven and I loved it. So, it came as a disappointing surprise when I felt Chris pull out of me, telling the Professor that he was getting too close, that it was too early for him to cum yet.

In response the Professor pulled out and rose to his feet.

"You said he got off on being cuffed while you buggered him last night. That's right; boys shouldn't be allowed to play with themselves while they're getting fucked. Hang on for a minute while I get something."

While he was out of the room, Chris admitted he'd stopped because he wanted to see the Professor fuck me.

"Believe me, mate, you'll love it."

Moments later the Professor came back with some rope and told me to lay face-up on the couch, with my bum settled on its wide upholstered arm and my legs dangling off the side.

Once I was in position he stared at me with a smirk on his face.

"Your cock's leaking like a tap. Can't wait to get more big cock in that little hole, right?"

"Oh God, yes sir, put it in me, please."

Handing the poppers to Chris, he slathered his cock with KY and moved in close.

"Give him a good long sniff, he'll need it."

As Chris held the bottle under my nostrils, the Professor grabbed one of my legs and held it up against his chest, turning my torso sideways to give his cock an unusual angle of entry. I was used to the butt plug and to the size of Chris' cock, but the extra thickness of the Professor and this new angle of insertion made quite an impression..

But the poppers helped and I kept silent as he forced his relentless path through my tense muscles. Once his hips banged up against my backside he stared into my eyes,

"Enjoying yourself, son? Been waiting for this, have you?"

He was right; this was exactly what I wanted and the pleasure quickly overwhelmed the pain. He continued to pound away at my insides, while working on the rest of my body, poking fingers into my open mouth, twisting my nipples, squeezing my balls, slapping my stiff dick back and forth.

Watching the Professor taking control, Chris sat in the armchair on the other side of the room, languidly stroking his own cock. Seeing that almost tipped me over the edge; I had to look away to prevent a spontaneous orgasm!

I was already beyond excited, but things got even hotter when the Professor pulled out and shoved me along the couch. Kneeling behind me and hooking my legs up onto his shoulders, he reentered me from yet another angle. Having reduced me to a blubbering mess, he slowed down, looked over at Chris and asked if he wanted to join in.

Chris got up but didn't take the Prof's place; instead he squatted down behind my head and slowly nudged his way along until his ass was hanging an inch or so above my face.

"Come on, lick the sweat off and stick your tongue up my hole."

He hadn't needed to tell me; already high on the mixed aroma of leather and sweat I'd already begun to drag my tongue along the crack of his ass, inhaling his super- sexy scent. I was soon rewarded by the sound of happy moans as he rubbed his bum back and forth across my face. My own excited groans were just as loud, and if my wrists hadn't been tied behind my back I would have grabbed my own cock and cum right there and then!

I felt like I wanted this to go on all night, especially since the Professor had got a second wind and was pummeling me hard. It soon became evident that we were all so close that it wouldn't take much for one of us to fall over the edge. I was already feeling cum bubble up inside me as a direct result of the pummeling the Professor was giving my prostate, so when his hand touched my leaking, bouncing dick all hell broke loose.

Just one touch was all my over-excited cock needed and to his evident surprise, ropes of cum came bursting out, splashing onto my chest, neck and face. It triggered a chain reaction. Chris came next, with his cock almost immediately squirting big blobs of semen what landed next to mine. Then my orgasm caused my internal muscles to squeeze down hard on the Professor's cock, pushing him over the edge. He unloaded his first shot in me before pulling out to add to the sticky mess on my body.

The end had come quickly, and in response we all remained perfectly still, not moving a muscle, other than drawing deep breaths, until the Professor, broke the silence, telling Chris,

"We'd better get this mess cleaned off him before it stains the couch."

While Chris went for a towel the Prof gathered up a big blob of cum on his fingers, muttering "Good Boy" when I opened my mouth to swallow. Once the towel was soaked with all the splooge, and the evidence was cleared away, Chris sat me up and untied my wrists while the Professor went to get a bottle of wine and three glasses. He filled the latter and gave a toast.

"Here's to an absorbing evening so far; and to more mutual discoveries as the night goes on. But a short pause first, I think."

The wine tasted nice and I had to admit that a short rest was a good idea. Any hesitation on my part vanished when Chris snuggled up to me and put his arm around my shoulders. Sublimely happy, I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest.

I dozed, drifting off into a world of my own, only vaguely aware of the guys talking, until at some point Chris' hand moved off my shoulder and started playing with one of my nipples. He was squeezing it absent-mindedly, probably not intending to start anything, but the effect on my cock, still in a limp post-orgasmic state, was dynamic!

The Professor noticed it lengthen and harden.

"Oh, oh, break's over, that's as good a signal as any. The rest of our evening begins."

Chris laughed,

"Now you've gone and done it. It's all your fault, you randy bugger."

Things moved along quickly, with the Professor clearing away the glasses and telling Chris,

"The backroom I think, Christopher. Go ahead, you know what to do. I'll be there in a minute."

Chris led me along the hallway to the back of the house and ushered me into a small bedroom, furnished with a single brass bed, a chest of drawers, a heavy wooden St Andrews Cross and two full length mirrors hanging on opposite walls. The latter were painted black and the window was blocked up. Staring around in wonder, I muttered "bloody hell" under my breath and looked for direction from Chris.

"Let's get you sorted; we can't have you standing around looking gormless when the boss comes in."

Two minutes later he had me strapped to the Cross, with my wrists manacled at the top and my ankles at the bottom. Seeing a thin line of pre cum leaking from the tip of my cock, Chris fondled it, then leant forward to give me a kiss, but pulled away when he heard the Professor coming down the hall.

When the "boss" appeared, he took a good long look at me and remarked to Chris,

"Ah, ha, that's what I like to see, a stiff prick that shows us he wants to be taken advantage of. This'll be fun."

Going over to the chest in the corner he pulled a drawer out and dumped it on the bed. Looking at it, I could see all sorts of interesting items that I hoped and feared he'd use on me.

Murmuring about "his oversized balls" he snapped a wide leather band around them and fitted a very tight, thin leather ring around my cock, ensuring it would remain erect for the rest of the scene. Pleased at the way my super-hard cock bobbed up and down, he slapped it a couple of times, before moving in close, raising his arm above his head and shoving his pit into my face.

"Fucking your ass got me sweating; the least you can do is clean up the mess."

I adored the taste and scent of a real man, which he certainly was, so I was happy to spend the next few minutes attacking each of his pits in turn, rubbing my nose in them, getting my tongue into every crevice and licking up every drop of salty moisture. Eventually, Chris took his place; rewarding me with a different, but equally exciting taste and scent to revel in.

While Chris kept me busy, the Professor brought out a pair of heavy duty clamps to clip on my nipples. I adored tit play, but these hurt so much and came as such a shock that I squealed loudly in pain. But when I begged him to take them off, he grabbed me by the jaw and looked me sternly in the eyes.

"Calm down my boy, don't over-react. Take a deep breath and see what your cock is telling you; it looks like it loves it."

He was right of course. Looking down, my dick seemed to have gotten harder, and there was a long thin line of pre cum dangling from its dark red tip. Just In the time I was staring at it, the pain in my nipples went from shockingly painful to excitingly hurtful. When my painful groans turned into quiet moans of pleasure, the Professor smiled at the change, and remarked to Chris,

"You were right about this one; tit play gives the game away. We can do anything we want and he'll thank us for it."

With Chris's help, he stuck dozens of clothes pins all over my body, starting with the armpits. The ones on my arms and torso weren't too bad, but the ones on my pits and inner thighs really hurt, as did the one clipping my foreskin closed. When I begged him to take it off, he told me to "Get over it, you little twerp" and placed three more along the length of my dick. Grinning, the two of them stood back to view their handiwork, with Chris pointing out an embarrassing fact.

"Even now, his prick's as stiff as ever. He loves it."

He was right of course. But just as the excruciating pain turned into a dull ache, they started pulling the pins off and sticking them back on as the blood surged back. The clothes pins were bad enough, but the worst by far was when the Prof pulled the tit clamps off and squeezed my nipples between his thumb and fingers before replacing them at a different angle.

Once my body got used to this, he picked up a couple of bamboo sticks, handed one to Chris and held onto the other.

"Let's see if we can knock all the pins off in less than two minutes."

"That's easy. But, to shut him up first of he'll scream so loud they'll hear him out on the street."

"Okay, use the ball gag, that'll do the trick."

Once its strap was buckled tight behind my head, the Professor started counting and they took turns, grinning like naughty kids, knocking the pins off, a few at a time, causing simultaneous hurts in many places. Enjoying themselves, they left the ones under my armpits and my cock to last, and succeeded in a minute and a half.

Chris was right about gagging me. My grunts as the pins came off were loud, but when the Professor knocked the tit clamps off, Chris had to put his hand over top of the gag to muffle my squeals. Once they finished and I was quiet again, he unbuckled the gag, drew it out of my mouth, and dipped his head down to lick each of my nipples in turn, soothing the pain away with his tongue. Hearing me moan my thanks, he brought his head up and he gave me an intense kiss that took my breath away.

Eventually pulling away, his hand gently stroked my face and he whispered "Having a good time, Baby?"

Totally enthralled, I could do was smile and nod, hoping he knew how much he meant to me. That moment didn't last long however; the Professor was keen to get on with things.

"That's enough romancing, you two. My cock's just as hard and just as needy as yours. Get him off that cross and onto the bed. We didn't get him thorough enough fucking just now, let's get it right this time."

Chris let me down off the Cross, stood me at the end of the bed and pushed me down flat on the mattress. The Professor folded my arms behind my back and tied my wrists to my elbows, keeping my hands out of their way and ensuring my helplessness. He slathered his fingers with lube and shoved two into me as preparation for the bigger things to follow. At the same time, Chris clambered up onto the bed to feed me poppers before shoving his groin in my face.

Seeing me taking the poppers and swallowing Chris's cock, the Professor withdrew his fingers and aimed his cock at my greasy hole. Going straight in, he didn't stop until I felt his thighs ram up against my hips; what followed was a fantasy come true, as the two took turns, working together, to ravage me.

Swopping places a couple of times, they kept at for about a half an hour, long enough and hard enough that eventually the Professor boasted about doing such a "great job of loosening up his tight ass" that it was time to turn me over.

He and Chris turned me onto my back, popped the tit clamps back on, and placed a pillow under my bum. After tying ropes to my ankles, the Prof held my legs up while Chris stood on the bed and tied the other end of the ropes to bolts screwed into the ceiling.

Lying on my back with legs wide open and greasy hole available, I hoped this was all preparation for a final fuck. So I was confused when I saw a pair of thin leather gloves in the Prof's hand. But I soon realised what was intended when he began to spread lube over his hand and wrist. Seeing the light bulb go on in my eyes, he asked,

"Ever taken a fist before, son?"

"No, sir, but I saw a friend of mine get it. I wondered what it felt like."

"Well, you're about to find out."

It was true about me seeing a bloke being fisted. It had happened a few months before and was amazing to watch, especially since the guy really got off on it. No one had offered to do it to me up to this point, and to be honest I was nervous. But since the Prof's fingers were already circling my hole, I took a deep breath and whispered "OK, sir".

He didn't enter me right away, just rubbed the outer ring of my hole while Chris climbed up onto the mattress with poppers in hand. But before letting me have them, he pointed up at a mirror on the ceiling, giving me a shock. Seeing a skinny body, with its cock and balls banded in leather, its tits clamped, its arms hidden behind its back, and its legs held wide apart, I stared fixedly up at the mirror, while Chris leaned over with an open bottle of poppers.

"Take some deep breaths, mate. You'll need 'em."

I did what he told me, breathing in deeply as he held the bottle under one nostril and plugged the other with his finger. Sure enough, a dozen or so doses of the Professor's amyl left me half-crazy, begging for something, to fill the emptiness.

The response came quickly and efficiently. Chris pulled the clamps off my tits, making me scream as the blood rushed back into my nipples, and while I tried to cope with the excruciating pain in my chest, the Professor took his chance and shoved two, then three, then four fingers into me. Feeling how easily his fingers slid into me and seeing the poppers working, he took his chance and slowly worked the rest of his hand into me, talking me through the process as he did so.

"Relax boy, relax, relax, breathe in and breathe out. You're going to be a good boy for me; you're going to open up, and you're going to take it. There now, I'm almost in; don't seize up now. There we are my boy, slow but sure."

As I stared up at the body in the mirror eagerly accept everything being thrown at it, Chris opened up the poppers again, allowing me a few good snorts. That was the signal for the Professor's final shove, and with me relaxed and greased up, my hole swallowed his hand easily. I could hardly believe I'd taken it, even when I looked up at the ceiling and saw his arm sticking out from between my legs. And I'd worried earlier that evening about being able to take his cock! Now my tight hole was so loose that I'd hoovered up his whole hand!

It had gone in so easily that it seemed almost anti-climactic for a few seconds until I felt it moving around inside me, which was strange but amazingly arousing. Of course it was no wonder I was so excited. Here I lay, staring up at myself, while the boy I had a tremendous crush on fed me poppers and played with my nipples while the stern, older master worked my insides. Unbearably excited, I shivered and tossed my head from side to side in my excitement, causing the Professor to mutter to Chris,

"He looked worried at first; he didn't think he could take it. But then the needy little bugger pulled me right in, swallowed me up."

His fist explored further and further into me, making me feel my vital organs were being rearranged. He kept me on the edge and I lost all track of time until I heard myself moaning with disappointment as he withdrew his hand. But I was about to get their final fucks of the night.

By now I was so greasy, so loose and so open that the Prof didn't need to bother with lube; he just thrust his cock straight into my utterly defenseless hole and began pounding away. Already close to the edge, it didn't take long to achieve his orgasm, filling me with a whole mess of gooey cum before pulling out and kneeling next to me on the mattress.

As I licked him clean, Chris took his place between my legs, first unbuckling the tight leather rings that had restricted my cock and balls since I'd hung on the St Andrews Cross.

"Listen mate; I'm going to fuck you until cum shoots out of your dick."

I'd been eager to cum for most of the evening, and once the rings were released it didn't take long. His cock quickly found my prostate and soon enough I could feel cum bubbling up through my system, eventually bursting out of me in a long, high arc, landing in big blobs on my chest and my face. Meanwhile he came in a rush, adding his splooge to the mess the Professor had deposited in me.

We were all exhausted now, and the Prof relaxed at the head of the bed while Chris untied my ankles and arms before lying down with his arms around me. We stayed like that for a few quiet minutes until the Professor got up and left, at which point Chris helped me up and led me to the bathroom to clean up.

Once I joined them in the living room, Chris pointed at the clock on the mantelpiece, which told me it was already past two in the morning and we'd better get on home. As the Professor watched us climb back into our bike leathers, he told us how much he'd enjoyed himself, thanked Chris for bringing me along and said I was welcome anytime.

Chris and I were so exhausted that we dropped off to sleep the moment we got back to his place, and woke up so late on Sunday morning that I only had time for breakfast before rushing for the train back to my college town. However, over the next couple of years, while I was at University, I made the journey to London every month or so, to play with Chris, my first and most intense lover.