A gay story: Men Go Their Own Way Pt. 02 The following week, I was there. Richard, I noticed, was not.
I was in no more mood to be the quiet observer. I waited until one of the guys started on his usual rant about how men wanted women who believed in old-fashioned values. When he paused to get a second wind, I broke in.
‘I just want to say that this idea that all men want women who believe in old-fashioned values is bullshit,’ I said.
‘That’s what the men in this group want,’ he said.
‘That’s what they say they want,’ I said. ‘But they’re not telling the truth. When I first came to this group, I asked you all how many of you are straight. You all said yes. Since then, I’ve had a sexual encounter with four of the guys in this group.’
I paused and looked around. Bryan was staring at the floor. Pete was looking at me and frowning. Daniel was looking at me quizzically. Some of the others looked horrified.
‘I’m not going to say who they are,’ I said, ‘because it’s between them and me. But all men do not want a certain kind of woman, and some men want other men, even if they claim not to.’
‘These are serious allegations,’ said one of the guys.
‘They’re not “allegations”,’ I said. ‘I’m not accusing anyone of doing anything. I’m just telling you that some men in this group sought me out for sex, and I said yes.’
‘Disgusting,’ said one guy, Joe, a guy about my age who was very bitter about his ex-girlfriend.
‘Can I help it if I’m irresistible,’ I said, smiling at him. He was half-twisted around in his seat, clearly repelled by my very presence.
‘We come here to talk about male issues,’ said another.
‘This is a male issue,’ I said. ‘What’s going your own way more than having sex with another guy?’
‘I don’t want to have sex with another guy,’ said another.
‘Then don’t,’ I said. ‘Nobody’s making you.’
‘I don’t like you coming in here and shoving your sexuality down our throats,’ said Joe.
‘Listen, sweetie,’ I said, ‘the only person around here who’s been having anything shoved down his throat, is me. Ask me how I know.’
This actually got a laugh. Joe fell into a sulk, and remained quiet for the rest of the evening.
Later, when we’d all left, sure enough, I heard my name being called.
It was one of the more quiet guys: a big, working-class guy called Malcolm, who didn’t do much except nod agreement with other guys.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘eh, good to have you back in the group.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I was wondering, eh…’ he said, and he shuffled his feet and turned red and looked up at the sky.
‘You can ask me anything,’ I said, smiling.
‘Was that true? What you said about… being with four of the other guys.’
‘Yeah. I mean, not at the same time.’
He laughed.
‘Right. Cos… I mean, I’m not queer or anything, but… I’ve often wondered, just… what, y’know…’
I waited.
‘What’s it like. Being with a bloke.’
‘If you’re me, it’s great,’ I said.
‘Cos, I’ve got this mate, see, and he and I… we always joke about it, but we wonder, y’know… what it would be like to… be with another bloke. Just for a laugh.’
‘Right.’
‘But we’ve never done it, cos we’re not queer or anything.’
‘You know I am, right?’
‘Well, yeah.’
‘So you don’t have to worry about what I’d think of you if you were.’
He thought about this for a moment.
‘Right, yeah. Sorry,’ he said, and smiled. I was pleased.
‘So,’ he said, ‘what I was wonderin’, was… maybe… would you be interested in maybe having him and me? So we can see what it’s like?’
I stared at him.
‘At the same time?’
‘Yeah. Like a threesome.’
‘Wow,’ I said.
I had never had a threesome, although I had once been promised one by a guy I’d met online, who had a partner. He had then forgotten all about it, to my great annoyance.
I looked at Malcolm. He was six feet tall and could have beaten me to a paste.
‘What’s your mate like?’
‘Oh, he’s sound. Yeah, he’s chill.’
‘I mean, is he tall, or…’
‘Yeah, he’s quite big, like me.’
The thought of being in a threesome with two huge guys made me feel very funny inside. In a good way. I am not tall, I’m fairly slightly built, and the mental image of myself sandwiched between two giants was very enticing indeed.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘But with one condition.’
‘Yeah?’ he said, looking happy. ‘What?’
‘We’re gonna need a room. I don’t want to do it at my place, but I don’t know you guys and I don’t want to do it round at either of yours.’
‘Oh, that’s fine,’ Malcolm said, ‘I live with my ma anyway.’
***
We chose a cheap hotel room.
Malcolm’s mate was called Derek, and he could almost have been a clone of Malcolm. They had brought a bottle of vodka, to help loosen themselves up. I was sober. It was a Saturday afternoon.
We stood in the room, all three of us, fully clothed.
‘So,’ Malcolm said, ‘how do we start?’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’m the queer one. Why don’t you tell me what you’d like me to do.’
Malcolm and Derek looked at each other uncertainly.
‘Guys,’ I said, ‘it’s fine. I’ll do most things that aren’t illegal.’
‘I’m just not feelin’ that sexy right now,’ Derek mumbled.
‘Would it help if I got naked?’ I said.
‘It might.’
I quickly undressed to my boxers, tossing my clothes on the ground, then I faced Derek and looked him in the eye as I slid them down.
‘Aww, yeah,’ Malcolm said softly. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was staring at my bare bum.
‘Thanks,’ I said, smiling. I turned and looked at Derek.
‘Want me to suck you off?’ I said innocently.
‘Uh… yeah,’ he said. He opened his fly and pulled out his cock. I knelt on the floor and took it in my hands. It smelled clean.
I took him in my mouth and started to suck. He let out a long sigh.
As I mentioned before, I am not the world’s expert at BJs. But I doubt Derek had ever had one before. He stood rigidly still as I sucked his cock and wrapped my tongue around it. I put my hand tentatively on his bum and he didn’t slap them off, so I held onto him and did my best to get him harder.
And he did get harder. I closed my eyes and imagined my mouth as a welcoming vagina, and took as much of him in my mouth as I could.
Then I felt him hauling me to my feet and I opened my eyes, just as Malcolm came up behind me.
They embraced me, sandwiching me, nude, between their clothed bodies, and Derek kissed me. I kissed him back and sighed, and Malcolm ground his pelvis into my rear end.
Then they turned me around, and Malcolm kissed me. I was the surrogate queer guy, standing in for both of them for the other’s benefit. Derek’s hands roved down to my bare hips and he reached around and grasped my cock.
‘Oh,’ he gasped, ‘that’s so fuckin’ hot.’
‘You want to fuck me,’ I panted.
‘Yeah,’ Malcolm said.
‘You both want to fuck me?’
‘Aw, fuck, yeah.’
‘Come on then,’ I said, and I slipped out from between them and pulled them to the bed.
They took their shirts off–for some reason, they kept their jeans on–and both their cocks were out. I pulled on them, smiling at them, eager to let them know that they could take me.
They stroked me and grabbed my face and kissed me. Then Derek was sliding over and he rolled me onto my belly, between his legs. My face was over his cock, my naked body sprawled out before him.
I knew what he wanted me to do and I bent over his cock and took him in my mouth again.
‘Aw, fuck, yeaahhhh,’ he gasped. They weren’t great talkers, these guys, but they knew what they wanted.
And then, as I was hoping would happen, Malcolm was between my legs and mounting me.
I opened my eyes and scrabbled for the lube on the side table and pushed it back at him.
‘Oh, yeah,’ he muttered, and took it from me, and I went back to sucking Don off.
And then I felt Malcolm’s penis pushing between my arse cheeks, and then, a bit too forcefully, he was pushing inside me, and I made a muffled whimper of pain.
But then we were off, with Malcolm at one end and Derek at the other, filling both my holes, spit-roasting me as I sprawled naked between them. I squirmed and oscillated and moaned and whimpered as Derek began to fuck my mouth almost as vigorously as Malcolm was fucking my arse.
I was as contented as I’ve ever been, lying there between them, being their naked queer stand-in, although Derek’s fucking of my mouth was getting kind of uncomfortable because I was afraid he would make me gag, and I was hoping he would pull out and come over my face, or something.
But I was still getting a thoroughly satisfying butt-fucking from Malcolm, and I was happy to do whatever the guys wanted to do, because they had wanted this, and they’d invited me along to help them.
But then Derek pulled out my mouth and scrambled out, and I was left lolling, my jaws aching, and then, to my surprise, Malcolm pulled out of me too. I had a brief moment of panic that they’d suddenly decided that they couldn’t be fucking a queer guy and were about to revenge themselves upon me, and I rolled over.
Only to see Malcolm and Derek passionately kissing, and starting to undress each other.
I, meanwhile, their naked fluffer, was forgotten.
I watched them for a moment as they got more and more hot and heavy with each other (I fuckin’ love you, man), and then I decided that privacy was what they deserved.
I rolled off the bed, went to the bathroom and ducked under the shower, and then when I was clean I towelled off and tiptoed into the bedroom.
They were under the sheet. I waited to see if they planned to invite me in, but they had forgotten all about me. I quickly got dressed and slipped out of the room.
I walked home feeling… somewhat unsatisfied, physically.
But at least I’d brought them together.
***
A couple of weekends later, I decided that my lazy lifestyle was getting the better of me. I wasn’t getting enough exercise.
So I went to a sports shop, where I bought a pair of running shoes and some shorts, and then I took the bus out to the coast so I could run near the sea. I knew a spot which was fairly quiet and would involve some scrambling up and down steep slopes. It was a warm day and I felt like this could be the beginning of a new start for me. I could shake off bad habits, like the stupid men’s group.
I got off the bus and walked a couple of miles through fields towards the coastal hills. They broke off and formed a cliff, and there were some winding paths over these cliffs, amid hedges and trees, which I thought would be great for running in. The sun glittered off the sea as I changed from my street clothes into my running clothes, then I packed my street clothes into a backpack, put it on and started to run.
As I ran, I felt the health coming back into my limbs. My lungs ached and I was sweaty but it was great. I was miles away from anyone. I could be alone with my thoughts.
After about half an hour, I took a break to drink some water and then went on. I was running through clumps of trees and rocky hills covered in gorse. I figured I’d give it another half an hour or so and then head back and get home for a good long shower.
Up ahead on the path I saw a dark figure. As I got closer I saw it was a man: a young man wearing a dark hoodie and black jeans.
And to my surprise, as we drew nearer each other in the shade of the trees, I realised that I recognised him from the men’s group.
Oh god, I thought, not wanting to have yet another awkward conversation. I tried to make it look like I hadn’t seen him, but he stopped and stared at me, so I slowed to a walk, emerging from the trees. He was out in the open.
We drew level with each other. The path was in a little valley with green slopes on each side.
He was a big guy, younger than me and bigger than me, rather flabby. He was unshaven.
‘You’re from the group,’ he said, not bothering to say hello, I noted.
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘just having a run.’
‘Long way from home,’ he said.
‘I like it here.’
‘Was it true what you’ve said?’
‘What?’
‘That you’ve had sex with four guys in the group.’ He was staring at me in a rather unnerving way, not smiling.
‘That’s not what I said,’ I said. ‘I said I’d had sexual encounters.’
‘How’s that different?’
‘It wasn’t always full sex.’
‘I’ve never had sex,’ he said. ‘I’m a virgin.’
‘Well,’ I said in what I hoped was an encouraging tone, ‘you will.’
‘Women are bitches,’ he said.
‘No they’re not,’ I said.
‘They are to me.’
‘Maybe you should try making friends with one.’
‘Men and women can’t be friends. Sex always gets in the way.’
‘I have lots of women friends,’ I said, ‘and I haven’t had sex with most of them.’
‘That’s cos you’re a faggot,’ he said.
‘I’ll see you at the group,’ I said, and turned away.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Finishing my run,’ I said and broke into a jog.
It happened very fast.
He ran up behind me and shoved me in the back, and I stumbled but didn’t fall. I regained my footing and turned around to tell him to fuck off.
He slapped my face, and I stared at him in shock.
Then, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it up with such force that it pulled my arms up. And I realised what he wanted to do.
However, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I lowered my arms and then I whacked him in the face.
He reeled, and lunged towards me, and I sidestepped him.
He went for me again, and I sidestepped him again.
‘I know what you want to do,’ I said.
He looked at me, his face red, breathing heavily.
‘We’re not gonna do that,’ I said quietly. ‘You’re not doing that to me.’
‘It’s gonna happen,’ he said.
‘I’ll run,’ I said. ‘I can outrun you. Forget about it.’
He hesitated. He was big, and wearing heavy dark clothes on a hot day. I am slender, and was dressed for running.
‘Then I’ll do it to the next person I meet,’ he said.
We stood looking at each other for a long moment.
‘We can do something,’ I said, ‘but you’re not gonna hurt me or anyone else. Is that clear?’
He looked miserable. Because he wanted to hurt me. And I wasn’t letting him.
‘If all you want to do is cum,’ I said, ‘you can do that with me. If it’ll get your rocks off. But you’re not gonna hurt anyone today.’
He said nothing, but stared at me.
I kept eye contact with him, and slowly and deliberately I took off my t-shirt, then my sneakers and socks, then I pulled down my running shorts, and finally I slid down my trunks. I stood before him, fully naked.
‘This is me,’ I said. ‘What do you want to do with this.’
‘Turn around,’ he said.
I turned my back on him so he could see my ass. I heard him breathing heavily.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered.
‘You want to touch me,’ I said softly.
‘No!’
I kept my face turned away from him because I couldn’t help smiling. Here I was, a young, attractive naked man offering myself to him, and I knew he wanted to do something to me, but god forbid he should touch me.
‘You want to be inside me,’ I said, ‘but you don’t want to go up my ass because you think it’s dirty.’
‘It is.’
‘You’re wishing I had a pussy,’ I said.
‘Don’t talk,’ he said.
Ah, of course, I thought.
‘I’m going to turn around for a second,’ I said.
‘Why?’
‘Close your eyes,’ I said. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
I turned, cautiously. He was standing there with his eyes shut.
I sat down on the grass and carefully tucked my cock and balls between my thighs. I like to shave my body but I leave the hair around my genitals, because I like it that way. I arranged my legs so that one was slightly bent, keeping my cock and balls hidden. Then I took my t-shirt and wrapped it around my face and lay back on the grass. Naked, with my cock and balls hidden and my face covered, I was neither quite male nor female: I didn’t have breasts but, all-importantly, I looked like I didn’t have a cock either.
‘Open your eyes,’ I said, and waited.
I heard him draw breath, and then I heard the sound of him unzipping his fly.
My gamble had worked. As long as I didn’t look too male, he was aroused by me.
I heard him panting as he masturbated, and I began to move my body and make little whimpers as if I were being fucked.
I lay there for several minutes, doing that, hearing the young guy jerking off over me, and part of me was all too aware that somebody might find us like that, the naked young man lying in the grass, blindfolded, with the clothed young man standing over him and masturbating, but if it meant that he wasn’t going to force himself on anyone else today, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
‘Uh, uh, uh, uh…’ he panted as he got more aroused. I was making more and more feminine little moans and squirming in the grass. I had to push him over the top.
‘Oh god’ I whimpered, ‘fuck me, fuck me… fuck me…’
And then, as I half-thought he might, he abruptly rolled me onto my belly. I gave a startled squeal and then I parted my legs and let my cock and balls drop beneath me as he stuck his cock between my buttocks.
I squirmed underneath him but he was only wedged between my buttocks; he was afraid of actually penetrating my anus. In any case, it didn’t matter because with a few quick thrusts, the friction of ass cheeks on his cock made him come into my ass crack.
‘AaaAAAAAUUUHH!’ I cried, squirming, shifting my naked hips back into his groin as he pumped his semen out and it dribbled down my crack onto my taint and dripped onto the grass.
He hadn’t penetrated me. But it was as near as didn’t matter.
He paused there, breathing heavily, and I lay beneath him, trembling and naked, my t-shirt still wrapped around my head.
Then he got off me and I heard him zip up and stomp away.
I lay there for a moment, still a little shocked.
But I wasn’t hurt. Except in my dignity. And I’d offered it to him: he hadn’t ripped it from me.
And now he’d shot his load between my naked buttocks, he wasn’t going to be in the mood to do something worse to anyone else.
I unwrapped the t-shirt from my head, and used grass to wipe his cum off my ass. Then I quickly got dressed and drank some water.
I looked around. Nobody in sight.
Of course, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t force himself on someone else some time.
I sighed. I had willingly given my body to a thug and a potential rapist.
But the alternative had been either to abandon all responsibility and run away, or be raped myself.
I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining what it would have been like if I’d not offered myself myself to him, but had been defeated by him. I imagined him holding me down and forcing himself into me while I screamed.
I opened my eyes. No. Any way you looked at it, this had to be better.
Still, it was depressing that there were such people in the world.
I took a deep breath and began to run again.
***
After that afternoon, something inside me snapped.
I seemed to be destined to be used by these guys, one way or another, as their first and probably only attempt to fuck a guy. They had all chosen me as their piece of meat.
Well, except Malcolm and his mate, who had essentially used me as a condom in order to get closer to each other.
Then, I thought, if that’s what’s going to happen, it’s going to be on my terms. If they’re going to use me, I’m going to make them use me.
I would not be blindsided again, like when I was out jogging. If it was going to come, if they were going to try to take me, then I would dare them to do it, and I would make them force me. I wasn’t willing to be fooled or tricked anymore.
I went back to the group, angry but determined.
***
The meeting was the usual complaint-fest, but the kid who had grabbed me and tried to take me when I was out jogging was not there. I was not surprised.
I said nothing, merely looked at them all as they talked and wondered who, if any, would approach me next.
The meeting came to an end, and everyone started to leave. I was slipping my backpack on when a guy who’d been to every meeting, but who had said nothing, came over to me.
He was older, probably in his late sixties, and had a certain air of refinement and elegance about him.
He introduced himself. His name was Jonathan.
‘I was wondering if we might have a little chat,’ he said, with a hopeful half-smile.
We went to the pub. I had a pint, he had a glass of red wine.
‘This is a little bit awkward,’ he said. ‘I don’t really know how to explain it.’
‘Why don’t you just assume that you can explain anything to me,’ I said.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘my wife died some years ago, and since she died, I’ve realised that I, um…’
I waited. He sipped his wine.
‘That perhaps I like men as well as women,’ he said. ‘I know you do, because you said you did.’
‘I do.’
‘It’s not easy for me to meet people,’ he said. ‘I’ve always wanted to see what it would be like to, you know…’
‘To be with a guy,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ he said, and went rather pink. ‘I was wondering if maybe you knew any gentlemen my age, who would be interested in me, or might be interested…’
I felt a pang of affection. For once, he wasn’t asking me. He was just wondering if I knew anyone.
‘I don’t, sorry,’ I said. ‘My friends are mostly my own age.’
‘Ah,’ he said, looking crestfallen. ‘Ah well. It was just a thought.’
‘Look,’ I said, and hesitated, and then plunged ahead.
‘If that’s all you’re interested in,’ I said, ‘if you just want to try being with a guy, I would like to do that. With you. If you’re interested.’
‘You would?’ he said, looking surprised.
‘Sure,’ I said and smiled. ‘You seem nice.’
‘I’m old enough to be your father.’
‘That doesn’t bother me.’
He was silent for a moment, looking at me.
‘What would you be willing to do,’ he said.
‘What would you want to do,’ I said.
He was silent for a long moment, then sipped his wine again.
‘I have a few… interests,’ he said. ‘Nothing nasty or dirty. But a little bit odd. I would love if you would like to give them a try.’
‘What kind of interests,’ I said.
And he told me.
***
A week later, I showed up at his door one Saturday morning.
He lived by himself in an expensive-looking terraced house. He courteously stood aside to let me in.
He offered me tea, but I declined and had a glass of water. Then, after some chat about the house (me complimenting him on how nice it was), he said, rather timidly, ‘So, um… shall we begin?’
I smiled.
‘Sure,’ I said.
He went over to the kitchen counter and picked up a plastic bag, which he handed to me.
‘Here it is,’ he said. ‘The, um, bathroom is just across the hall.’
I took the bag to the bathroom and locked the door and took out the contents.
It was, simply, a nurse’s work tunic and a pair of tight shorts. That was what he wanted me to wear.
I closed the toilet lid and sat on it, then took off my trainers and socks. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, removed my jeans and slid out of my boxers.
Then I pulled up the shorts–they were rather tight–and put on the nursing tunic.
I looked at myself in the mirror, and the sexy young male nurse winked back at me.
I put my clothes in the bag, left it on the bathroom floor, and went back to the kitchen.
‘Well, Jonathan,’ I said briskly, ‘how have you been?’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘not so bad.’
‘Time for your medication,’ I said. ‘Do you have it there?’ I went to the sink and poured a glass of water, and took it over to him.
He was sitting at the table. Before him was a box with an array of pills in it. I handed him the glass and he began to take them. I couldn’t help noticing that one of them was the unmistakable pale blue diamond shape of Viagra.
‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘Get them down you.’ I was trying to be as officious and as annoying as possible, because I suspected that that was what he wanted.
When he’d taken all the pills, I started moving about the kitchen tidying things up and putting them away, and carrying on a line of chatter about how he needed to get more exercise and medication alone wasn’t going to keep him healthy. All the while, I knew he was eyeing me in my tight shorts and tight tunic.
As I talked, I wondered if in fact he really hadn’t been with another guy. Perhaps that was the line he chose to reel me in.
I decided I didn’t care. I was on my new track of trying to foresee what would happen, and meet it head on.
He had promised me that things might get a little ‘interesting’, and that he intended to be the ‘dominant’ one, but that I had to first boss him around. That was fine by me.
I took out his vacuum cleaner and started vacuuming. Hardly the job of a male nurse, but it was something else to give me the air of his attendant, the person who was in charge of him. As I did so, I tut-tutted about how dusty the place was, and that he should keep it cleaner.
‘I know, I know,’ he said in a resigned voice, ‘it’s just hard when you’re my age.’
‘Well,’ I chattered, ‘my father’s over 70 and he still looks after himself. You really could keep this place a little cleaner, you know.’
I moved the vacuum cleaner into the living room and began vacuuming there. He followed me in a rather half-hearted way and hovered in the door.
I nattered on about TV I’d been watching and the state of my love life, hinting at partners but being ambiguous about what sex they were. He went and sat in a large armchair.
Fifteen, twenty minutes went past and I had vacuumed the living room and the hall. I carried the cleaner back through the living room and put it away in the kitchen, then I took a duster and returned to the living room. He was still in the chair.
‘Well, you’ll be having a walk later, won’t you?’ I said. ‘You need to get exercise today.’
‘Oh, I’ll get exercise,’ he said mildly. I walked past him on my bare feet, heading for the side table to dust it, but he grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.
‘What’s this?’ I said.
‘Time for my exercise,’ Jonathan said, and he pulled me down so that I stumbled and fell over his lap, face down.
He slapped my arse inside the shorts. I stared at him, outraged.
‘What are you doing?’ I said.
‘You do talk an awful lot,’ he said. ‘You need more discipline.’
And he spanked me again.
‘How dare you!’ I fumed.
‘You come in here and you talk and talk, but you don’t think about my needs,’ he said. ‘It’s time for you to attend to my needs.’
‘I’m not your toy!’ I said hotly. ‘Let go of me!’
I struggled, twisting, and when I was half-facing him, he reached forward and pulled down the zip on my tunic, opening it at the front. I gasped.
‘How dare you!’ I said again. He pulled it down my arm and grabbed my bare upper arm, and it fell off that side, and then he rolled me onto my belly on his lap again, and it slid off the other arm and fell to the floor.
‘You’re a very provocative young man,’ he said.
‘This is absolutely out of order!’ I said.
He spanked me again, and I squealed with shock. Then he did it again, and again, and again. I moaned.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I think you like that.’
‘I don’t,’ I gasped. ‘This is absolutely abusive.’
‘You haven’t been abused yet,’ he said, and he yanked on my arm. ‘Stand up.’
I stood up, and he got up from the chair and stood behind me, feeling my body with his hands. I stood there, trembling. Only my tight shorts were between me and him.
‘What a fine young body you have,’ he said. ‘So neat and trim. Do you exercise a lot?’
‘I swim,’ I gasped.
‘I bet you do. Do you shower naked?’
‘You can’t do that,’ I said, my voice quavering. ‘It’s a public pool.’
‘But you’d like to?’
‘Not in public!’
‘But if it weren’t public,’ he said, ‘wouldn’t you like to swim naked? And have other men see you? And women?’
He reached down inside the front of shorts and stroked my cock.
‘Ohhhh,’ I gasped. ‘Yes…’
‘That would be something worth seeing, yes,’ he murmured. ‘You swimming naked, with all those people watching you. Thinking about what they would like to do to you.’
‘You can’t do this,’ I panted, but I was grinding my hips backwards into his groin.
‘You want me to do this,’ he said.
‘I don’t… please…’
‘You want me to do this,’ he said, and he yanked my shorts down over my hips, stripping me naked.
‘OH god!’ I whimpered, and I vainly tried to cover my groin with my hands. He slapped them away. My shorts slithered down to my ankles and I stepped out of them.
‘You fantasise about being in the shower,’ he said.
‘Yes…’
‘Come with me,’ he said, and he nudged me. I walked forward and he guided me out of the living room into the hall, then up the stairs, and across the landing and into another, bigger bathroom. There was a large shower.
‘Have a shower,’ Jonathan said quietly, and he sat down on a chair.
I looked over my shoulder at him, and he indicated the shower with his head.
Naked, I went over to it and I turned the water on. I was acutely aware that I was naked in the room with him and he was still clothed and neat and alert. When the water was warm, I got under it. It felt great. I washed myself, occasionally glancing at him.
He watched me for a long time, and then he started to talk.
‘You fantasise about being in the shower,’ he said again. ‘It’s a public place, but only men are in there with you. Men you don’t know. You like the intimacy of it, being naked among strange men.
‘You start to touch yourself. You touch your penis.’
Obediently, I began to stroke my cock, which soon got hard. I lowered my head and let the water run down my face, and I opened my mouth slightly and breathed as I began to masturbate.
‘You feel yourself getting hard,’ he said. ‘You wonder if anyone can see you. But you don’t know, because there’s too much steam and your eyes are closed.’
I took the hint and shut my eyes. I wondered if this was all he wanted: to watch me shower naked and jerk off. He could see the water cascading down my naked back and buttocks: the shower door was fully open. The bathroom floor was tiled.
‘As you get more aroused,’ he said, ‘you wish there was someone there with you. Someone to be intimate with. You wish there was another body next to yours. Perhaps a man. Perhaps a woman. You can feel yourself feeling more and more aroused, more and more receptive.’
‘Ohhhh…’ I gasped. I turned my face up to let the water batter into it, and stuck my rear end out behind me.
‘You can imagine a man, seeing you, naked and ready to be used, and not being able to resist your beautiful body.’
‘Oh god,’ I whimpered. I was so close to coming that I had to fight back the urge to do it. My other hand was caressing my naked chest and belly and thighs.
‘And then,’ he said, and his voice was suddenly a good deal closer in my ear, ‘it happens.’
And in one moment, the water turned off, and a hand filled with a thick mound of what I realised was shaving cream pushed it into my face and smeared it over my eyes and forehead and nose and mouth, blinding me, and I felt an erect penis push between my buttocks and press at my anus.
‘MBLBLLL!’ I mumbled in shock, my open mouth full of shaving cream, but then his arm came around me and pulled my hips back into his, and he pierced my ass and was going up inside me.
I made muffled squeals as Jonathan began to sodomise me, standing up in his shower, wet and naked and blinded. I felt the fabric of his shirt against my back, and that of his briefs against my bare bum: his sole concession had been to remove his trousers, presumably so they wouldn’t get wet.
‘MMNNN! MMMMN! MMMM!’ I squealed as he pumped into my arse, his long cock filling my rectum and exquisitely piercing my pride and dignity. He had got me to dress up as a nurse and boss him around, and in revenge he’d grabbed me, spanked me, stripped me, made me shower in front of him, and now he was fucking me senseless as I fought to stay upright on the slippery tiles.
‘You don’t know who he is,’ he panted in my ear. ‘Some complete stranger is having his way with you. You give yourself to him. You will never see his face, or know his name. You just know his manhood is inside you. And that you want to be used like this.’
‘Aaauuuhh!’ I whimpered.
‘You yield to him,’ he said. ‘You give him your hole and he takes it. He makes you his.’
‘Oh fuck,’ I gasped. He slapped my buttock smartly and I squealed.
‘Language,’ he said.
‘You feel him getting his release,’ he said, ‘and it is all that you want, that he should take your body and make it his own.’
‘Oh, please…’
He was silent, his stiff cock pumping into me for a few more seconds, and then he sighed, and I felt him cum inside me. I let out my breath in a long, high-pitched whimper and stood there, trembling, nude and wet and blinded and shivering slightly.
He slowly pulled out of me, and I felt that I shouldn’t move.
I stood there, shivering, my face still blanketed in a mask of shaving foam, and I hugged my arms to myself, not bothering to cover my bum or my genitals.
And then I heard the clicks of a phone camera, as he photographed me, his wet, naked, messy little bitch.
I didn’t move. I let him do it. I sensed that this, above all, was what he wanted to take away: the memory, and the photos of me as I’d been when he was fucking me, all wet and nude and blind and vulnerable.
There was a long silence, then I heard the bathroom door shut.
I fumbled for the shower controls and turned the water back on.
Some minutes later, clean, naked and dry, I came down the stairs and went back to the other bathroom and found my clothes where I’d left them. I put them back on, and then went into the kitchen.
Jonathan was seated at the table, wearing different clothes. He smiled at me.
‘Thank you very much,’ he said.
‘Was that really your first time,’ I said, smiling.
‘I’d rather not say,’ he said.
‘Well, I’m glad you came.’
‘I’m sorry you didn’t,’ he said.
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘Compared to some guys, you were a perfect gentleman. I knew more or less what I was getting in for.’
‘I hope the shaving foam didn’t sting your eyes.’
‘No. I like being blinded. If we ever do this again, perhaps a blindfold, though.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said.
‘Could I see the pictures?’
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he said, picking up his phone.
‘As long as I’m not recognisable,’ I said. He handed it to me. There were about a dozen photographs of me standing in the shower with a faceful of shaving foam, my arms folded, my hands on my shoulders, naked and glistening with water. I would have known it was me, but nobody else would. I handed the phone back.
I paused, and from the way he didn’t say anything or offer me a drink, I guessed it was time to leave.
‘I’ll see myself out,’ I said.
‘It was a great pleasure,’ he said. ‘Thank you again.’
‘See you,’ I said, and I turned and walked out to the hall.
Jonathan never did come back to the group.
I wonder what happened to him.