+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ BIKER MATES PART TWENTY
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BIKER MATES PART TWENTY - It happens [CHAPTER TWO : TEN YEARS LATER, continued]
"Jez said I needed to be fucked. He said that he was going to fuck me. He said that he had some friends. Like they were going to, you know, fuck me as well, I guess."
I held him on my lap, my arms around his body. I was feeling the shape of him through his clothes, looking at the shape of his neck, his dark, rough-haired jawline, the small worn collar, and thinking about the shape of his penis, and the stiff-aching feeling of my penis beneath him and the weight of him on it.
Martin wriggled.
"For chrisake, Mar!"
My hand smoothing his chest again found the soft thick bud of a nipple kneading between my fingers whilst he talked.
It still wasn't 12.
"Jez was always playing: Holding my dick down so it hurt and letting it go so it sprung up and hurt, and he had some, thing or other, I don't know what, he whipped me with - not too much, just to make it sting and make it so that... I mean, I wasn't scared, I just didn't know what was next.
"Then he opened the top of his overalls and took it off his shoulders - he was in great shape, wasn't he? He pressed up against me and said he was going to fuck me over and over and over and over."
"My arms were still tied up, so I couldn't get my hands on him, but I wanted to cs next I could feel the bare skin of his arms and chest touching me, and his breath an' I remember his skin touching mine cs it was really hot, smooth, firm, young skin."
"Well, we were all young then weren't we?" I observed, fatuously.
"Yeh... I guess... Well, he reached round and found where you had whipped me before, and where he had whipped me and he sort of traced them, you know, the welts, with his finger tips, feeling the ridges where it almost cut, and sighed like it really excited him to feel it where he had whipped it, and you had. I mean, he said so. 'Beautiful marks, lovely to touch, hurt and burning.'"
===
I remember making those marks. I remember the fiery excitement of the whip striking Martin's struggling body. I remember not being sure if it was wrong, not knowing and no longer being able to care if it was. The way Martin struggled both against Jez restraining him and against his own fear, conquering his fear with his own desire to be completely destroyed by two men who had him in their complete power.
===
"Jez said, 'Does it hurt, that?' An'all I could do was grunt. 'Well,' he continued'n'then he must'a bent down, cs he released my ankles. Tugging at the straps.
"Then he must'a stood up, cs he released my wrists - but he told me to keep my arms out, you know, like a crucifix. You know how much that hurt? Quite a bit. I had to stretch my arms. You know how much that hurt? Quite a bit. I had to hold them there. So that was painful, which I think he meant cs I was really, you know, finding it difficult to do as he said cs it was so painful, but he didn't say to let them down and when they drooped he slapped me, you know, in the stomach; well, he made it clear what he wanted. When I did well, he praised me, and that felt good.
"Then I got his poppers shoved under me nose and he said, Take a hit, so I knew there was something about to happen, so I took a huge hit and my head was swimming and my heart started up like an engine.
"Still that one big strap across my chest, tight on my chest and cutting into me cs it took my weight, a big wide strap that cut me under my armpits and pressed down over my pecs, really pressing.
"Great pain...
"He was playing, and course he had this nob and, after playing with me like that a bit, he let it out! I was still woozing. He put it between my legs, up there so I could feel the end of it rub up there, you know, where it's sensitive. He was pushing it, and the tip even reached right up to my hole. I thought he might even put it into me. I was willing it. I was frantic. I could feel his swelling up against it and I thought, I hope he doesn't fuckin' cum before he's fuckin' fucked me!
"I mean... Jez. He was really, Mike, you know. Fantastic. Fantastic nob."
"I thought HE was a nob," I said, ruefully.
"Aww, Mike. Don't be like that!"
He looked at me like I was naughty. Then he continued, "Jez never let up. He was a wild bastard, teasing me and hurting me at the same time. I was like, 'Do anything, man, don't stop.' My head was melting. Pulse racing like a train."
"That's the poppers."
"Of course. I know.
"He told me to hold onto him. Hold tight. I didn't know what he meant. So he got kinda sharp and told me to hug him like he was me mum. Funny bloke. So I hugged his shoulders. I mean, I really hugged him. Smooth, lovely body. Large broad back, like, ox strong. And his prick up there, amazing, stimulating, arousing, wasn't it, and getting more excited, and he was pressing up against me always pushing and scrunching hard against me balls.
"Anyway, so he told me to hold on really tight and lift my legs up cs he was going to fuck me right there, standing up like that. I didn't understand but I lift my legs and he grabs them. Like I'm sitting on a fallen chair. His arms support my backside, on my arse and he's guiding his cock, finding my hole and he's in. Hard and quick. In! I screamed. Straight up fuck, Mike!
"Now me bollocks was squashed, if you can imagine it and christ that hurt like fuck cs he was taking a lot of my weight there, so I had to really grab his shoulders with my arms and try to take some of the pressure off my balls and he started swearing like I wasn't doing it right.
"His face was up against mine right and he was talking and telling me what he wanted, spit in my face. Bouncing me up and down on it like a doll... Boing, boing, boing, boing.
"So he did fuck me, Mike.
"Boy did he fuck me.
"Fucked me good.
"Fucked me like on his spit, you know, his penis, I mean, really deep, you know, into my stomach so that every time it went up, I went down on it and I hit it with my full weight, and I could feel it hit something in me.
"He had his hands gripping on my lower half, holding me, like, cupping my buttocks in his arms, and I was holding on to him. I mean, so he fucked me there for a bit like that.
"So he did fuck me, Mike.
"Fucked me real good, Mike. Real deep."
"So it was that good, was it?" I said, and as I spoke I started ask myself, what position is in fact the deepest...?
"Hurt like crazy. Not just me fuckhole. Me muscles in me arms and legs and back as well, cs I was taking all the strain. I mean he was carrying a lot of the weight on his shoulders but I had that strap supporting me by the chest, by the armpits, I mean. It was fucking cutting into me. Oh, and I couldn't even touch myself cs I was holding on so tight to him... that's another thing."
His eyes widened in heartfelt sincerity as if he was telling me something utterly-utterly-unbelievable-but-really-really-true that he really, really wanted me to believe.
"But I mean, well you know, it couldn't be helped, c'd it?"
"I guess not," I said, trying not to imagine too much because I was turned on so much and his weight was squeezing me down and exciting it and hurting it.
He shifted his bum and said, "You're really hard, Mike," and laughed. "It excites you, doesn't it?"
"Now you mention it..." I winced. "Hey Mar, would you just get up a sec?"
He hopped off my lap and waited for me to adjust my penis. I lifted myself off the chair and put my hand down my waistband, grabbed it and roughly tugged it into a more upright position. Opening my legs wider let my bollocks drop down comfortably from their previous entanglement.
The older guy at the bar looking at us opened his eyes wide. He didn't say anything.
A big ridge arched across the fold of my groin and looked pretty angry when I sat down again, but at least it now had some room to breath.
"Ok," I said, "try again..."
He put his weight down on me slowly, avoiding the swollen shape but then pushing up against it with his leg. I smoothed my hand again across his chest until it relocated a stiff pointed tip and held it between my thumb and finger, rolling it with increasing pressure. I pinched it, watching him watching. He took a breath.
"Go on with your story," I said.
"Oh, yeh," he said distractedly. "Jez fucking me slowly, sliding his shaft up and down into the hole, but really powerfully and, like rhythmically, really. I'm holding on to his neck trying to keep my weight off the strap. I could feel its head hitting my guts. Really really deep. Fucking amazing. Really deep. So good. Really really deep. I didn't know it could get that far in. And opening wide up for him, and..."
"Ok," I said. "I get it."
He laughed.
"Jez has such a hard athletic body, don't he? Or he did have. So I've got me legs up against him and me cock and me balls rubbing against his stomach and me arms holding onto his shoulders, like this..." Martin suddenly jumped up and, deftly swinging his legs around, sat astride me, put his arms round my neck and pulled his whole body into mine so that I could feel the weight of him resting on his buttocks, on me and my dick, and his hot breath in my face. His nose was touching mine. His bollocks were pushed against me. I could feel it rock hard. I put my arms around his back, instinctively supporting him. I felt the meat of his moist back beneath his shirt and the naked skin exposed between his shirt and his jeans.
"See, you can feel my junk pressing against your stomach can't you?"
His closeness was embarrassing and exciting.
"I, I, yes, Mar, I can feel it."
His leg was squashing down on my hardon again. I was in pain.
He stood up and sat himself once more on my lap, thumping down on my raging dick. He put an arm round my neck and I put my own arms around him yet again. A glance told me the guys at the bar barely had time to register, but that they did register.
"You get it. It just ... christ, man, I really really wanted to cum, man! I mean I really wanted to cum, but he wouldn't let me. Thank god."
"It's sounds like the fuck of a lifetime..." I said, distractedly.
"Yeh it was. One of many," he grinned.
"You remember it very clearly."
"I remember every sex I ever had!"
"That's... amazing!"
"It IS amazing," he laughed, "...only then, his phone rang!"
"Jesus Christ," I murmured involuntarily.
"Yeh, like, What?! So he had to answer it."
"What?"
"Yeh, like, No, man! And he just pulls it out, his nob, plop, stops, and walks off, breathing hard. And I drop my arms and my legs and I'm like 'Awwwmygod'. But I couldn't complain. Well, I had the gag. I could grunt. And remember, I'm still hooded so I don't know what the fuck's going on..."
"Hooded?"
"Sorry, I mean blindfolded. Yeh. I'm just hanging there on the wall like a blind gagged fly! Jez shouts, 'Arms up. Hold position!' gets his phone and he answers it and says to the guy on the other end to hold for a second.
"So now he was having a telephone conversation and I'm just hanging, the cunt!"
"But you did like that didn't you?" I said.
"I love getting fucked."
"Yeh. Right. Ok. So go on. I mean, who was he talking to? What was he talking about?"
"Oh yeh, that's right. He was talking to some guy about meeting up, and me and how he was 'fucking it', and how the bitch was awesome, and how the bitch was submissive and how it was and would he like to? and where to meet, and some kind of deal. And at one point he says, 'You like to be gang raped don't you?' And I'm grunting..."
"You didn't mind that?"
"I was the slave..." he said; then he said, "...and I knew."
"Knew what?"
"I knew it was what I wanted. I just knew it was all I wanted, all I'd ever wanted, to be used, to be used and wanted and owned and wanted."
His eyes glistened then.
"So what about me then?"
"You, what?"
I groaned. "Oh... forget it. Get on with the story."
"Ok," said Martin. He took a breath.
"So, I was so excited what with his thing hitting inside of me and his dirty phone calls and this deal and the pain of the strap and... Well that's the strange thing with guys, I never know if they know what's really happening."
"Y'wa? You're odd," I said, looking at his shoulder, "and it's making my balls ache."
"Yeh? Well I di'n't know cs I was so turned on, and he was saying to this guy on the phone how like what a good cocksucker I am and how I'm fit and strong like a good slave should and... and such an obedient good slave and how he was fucking me right then and how tight I am and good and deep and all. But then it ... changed."
He turned his head in towards my shoulder, like he was ashamed. He looked down at his crotch and stared like he was thinking of something to say.
He didn't say anything. He just kept staring ahead. I stroked his rough hair. I didn't do anything. I held him tight and felt him shake.
"It was a long time ago," I said. "We've both grown up."
He still didn't speak.
"Mar," I said, "Mar, it doesn't matter. Forget it."
I waited.
"Let's talk about something else."
I mean, I'm like you: I still wanted to fuck him. I wanted to fuck him more than ever. His tears just made me want to fuck him more. He had that effect on people; he was vulnerable, big time. Well, not vulnerable so much as, well, just plain-old-vanilla fuckable. He was the perfect sub. He always remembered what to do, to do whatever he was told, to get off on every part or the deal. That's what made him such a slut, such a beautiful, beautiful guy.
"Oh Martin," I said, huskily. "You know, I don't mind. I ... don't mind what happened really. It's all in the past. We've moved on."
"I..." he snivelled, "I haven't moved on. I still ... " and he stopped again.
"Let's go somewhere," I said, roughing his scalp.
Martin looked up, eyes glistening. "Where?" he said.
I gave his waist a squeeze.
"C'mon, stand up."
Martin lifted himself off me with his customary deference. As I stood, I noticed his thick legs, the width of his shoulders, hunched forwards and stretched over with finely tattooed skin. I indicated the door and followed him out. I was about to compliment him, just a general observation about how good he looked, when he stopped, turned, and suddenly looked at me directly and said, with a new smile, "Mike, wha'n fucks name a'you doin' here? You're the last person I expected to see."
"Yeh, well, snap!"
===
As we walked I tried to answer his question. It was a boring story but Martin listened politely whilst I told him about how I met Karol, about his job in footie, about his money, about our flat in London and about my somewhat dissipated life. Bor-ing. I thought it would at least distract him from his thoughts, but from the look on his face he was a mass of confusion and hurt.
"'Thankyou Jesus for making me gay'," he repeated comically at one point.
I told him we were married. Well, I had to tell him because it was my story, but all the time I could feel myself losing my hardon and Martin's attention seemed to drift away to whatever had upset him.
In the end I caught up with the present day and concluded, "All in all, nothing much!"
"Trapped in a loveless marriage," he quipped. He looked troubled. "Do you ever count your blessings, Mike?"
"I, I don't know. S'pose so."
"I do," he said.
There was a long pause, then he shook his head. "Footie..." he said lightheartedly. "All those hot athletic bodies. Any of them gay?"
"It happens," I said.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART TWENTY