Hanging around the flat noonish on sunny Monday. No time, somehow, for a wank before I got up today. So my cock has been half-thick and insistent all morning. I like to let it all build up though - don't you? Just get the feeling something could happen. Like any day really.
Watching the courtyard - surly, fit chav lads playing footie by the garage block. Very leaky for a perve cunt like me. Think about their morning wanks in detail, pants, armpits, arses, sweaty kit. The expression on their faces as they nut off. The spunked up sweaty sheets on their beds, spunk tracks on their pants. Scally dreamin again.
Maybe I need a phone wank with another perve. Yeah - that'd be good. Find some other dirty sub cunt on the phone line and exchange filthy close-up cock feeding fantasies; really have a good long slow edge up and squirt off in my boxers.
Reach for the phone as it starts ringing. Oh what, it's only fucking Kevin! This will be a treat.
"That you Dog?" ... pause. The lush young chav's surly voice, real menace in the 'dog' word. A put down. A fit lad, standin over me and gobbing on me. The spit hitting my face.
My dick jolts and leaks into my 3 day old red Bench boxer briefs.
"Alright Kev?"
I try to sound assertive - but I am cunted out by the sound of his breath. I remember how he smells: how good I smell when he has used me before. This is at least going to be a good wank.
"Get your fucking cunt down that pub at Stamford Brook. . . . You got that?"
Fucking cool - a summons from Kevin. I have had a treatment in that pub once before, late one afternoon in the toilet. Fucking hot.
"And bring a full wallet, me and Cam want a beer or two."
"Yeah, yeah, cool"
"Be there now!"
He disconnects.
Suddenly I am shaking with anticipation, nearly shitting myself with excitement. Pull on some street clothes and drive a mile up the road. Almost hyperventilating with lust and nervousness. Anticipating a long submissive wait and then some delicious abuse.
What's Cam going to be like? Will I recognise him? Hope it doesn't get fucked up.
Fuck! Hate to be this nervous. Can feel myself trembling as I walk to the pub. Kev is sitting at a table on the street. There is another lad at the table with him.
"Two pints of Stella here" Kevin announces as though I had offered. I am standing beside them now. I look at Kevins face: relaxed, confident, leering. "This is Cam" he gestures.
Cam is a fucking Sex God. I slowly take in all the detail. Long arms sprawled out over a copy of the Sun, open at the sports pages. A stripey blue and white Lacoste polo shirt - oversized - hanging loosely over his wide shoulders, the sleeves cover builder boy arms. Large hands with long fingers - fuck I am doped by the fitness of it already.
Cam is squatted with his young butt on the edge of the seat - legs spread wide open. The polo shirt is untucked and looking down his back my eye is dragged to his arse cleavage clearly visible. His buns are white, rounded like two footballs - fuck imagine how they drive his knob in when he's breeding. A red waistband on a pair of some kind of knitted white cotton boxers. The waistband stretched across the muscular butt and then the waistband of the blue, 3 stripe, adidas trackies. Long thick legs to the sides of the table, a pair of size 11 or 12 Lacoste trainers. Really like thin-soled, the emphasise the size and power of his flexed feet. Adidas white sport socks. I want the soles of his street shoes in my face, him gently pushing down on me the weight of that body.
His dirty blond/light brown hair is not stylishly cut. Just barbered somewhere. No vanity. Totally confident. Always gets fucked when he wants it. Clean shaven with maybe a day's stubble, maybe a bit ginger? Think about the pubes. Wide apart blue eyes. Strong straight nose. Lovely thick lips, moist and pink for snogging. Yes a total sex god. I look at the crutch of his trackies, wanting to see sex. Nothing is evident from this angle and with his legs spread apart.
This all takes about 2 seconds. But he has felt me looking, taking him in; sizing him up. He gets it all the time, but he has still felt it. He has to grin. How can he be this fit that people all look at him like this? Whatever.
"See something you like?" Kevin interrupts my body scanning
"What?" Fuck, been busted perving already.
"Just get us the fucking beers will ya?" Kevin grins and winks, "plenty of time for all that later matey"
I get the beers and Kevin and Cam (Cameron apparently) drink the first one fast. The sun is warm. I am sent in for a second. They chat lazily about some work related small stuff. They share camera phone pics of friends and family.
I sit and try not to stare. I am beside Cameron whose leg occasionally brushes against mine. He is doing that lad thing of slowly swinging his legs open and closed. I am in a sweat just thinking about how the thick thighs are opening and closing on the fat ball bag hanging in those sweaty pants. Each flex of his legs stimulating his balls.
He is visibly half hard through the dark blue nylon, the thick form of his cock down the top of his left leg. Just imagine the smell of his cock in those pants as he works up a huge wad of seed. He will easily jack off or fuck it into some lucky bitch later. There is plenty of sex banter as they get to the end of the second pint.
Then one for the road. A couple of cigarettes are smoked, being we are sitting on the street. The paper has been put away -- folded and stuck into the back pocket on Kevin's grey trackies. Young women walk past attracting their attention with a lack of clothing. Occasional ooh, nice', aw fuck that's fit man', `fuckin like to plant some in that mate'.
Both of them now with their legs more closed but one leg jostling their bollocks incessantly as they horn up to the passing talent.
I am almost in a coma with the closeness of rough sex. I know, even if it is imagination, that I can smell Cam's cock. The stale piss on his long foreskin. The leaking pre cum beading at the piss slit. The musky sweat from his last wank radiating from his crutch. I can certainly smell the sweat from his arm pits.
I am M E L T I N G with queer lust.
"Alrite then geezer?" Cam turns to me.
"Yeah" I am breathy with nervousness.
"Ta for the beers then" he says.
"No worries mate -- my pleasure"
"Kev says you'd like em back"
"Sorry"
"Kevin. He tells me you would like the beers back"
I look at Kevin and then around to see what is happening. Am I about to get mugged or what?
Cam's tone changes and he turns and leans across closer to me. I can feel his beery breath on my ear:
"Go inside, downstairs and wait in the mens. You will be squatted at the trough, or in the lock up. You chose cunt. Got it?"
Kevin seeing this exchange coughs to conceal a kind of laugh.
I get up and walk through the bar to the back. There are toilets on the ground floor. But another mens in the basement by the bar that's only open at night. I go down the stair case and into the toilet. The only lighting comes from a street level louvered window. I can make out a steel urinal with a gutter, probably big enough for four blokes to stand at. There is also a very dark cubicle. It doesn't smell too bad.
Wondering if this is a total wind up I walk up to the urinal. What if I am just going to be left here -- they already left? Or someone else comes in?
But then turn my back to the urinal and lean back against it. I squat there right in front of it on my haunches. I can hear the stairs creaking. The door slowly opens and they are both here. Two feet in front of me. The scent of men is suddenly in the air. Cam has his long right hand down the front of his trackies. Kevin leans back on the door.
"Kev tells me you a bit of a dog mate"
He is standing over me, he must be 6foot 2. He looks huge. I can smell his closeness. I look down at the white trainers, mesmerised. He gobs on me. Hard. A thick ball of spit from his lovely fit gob, lands with a warm splat on my face.
I try not to blush with pleasure, but it's quite dark so maybe it doesn't matter.
He pulls his hand out from under the waistband and turns it towards my face, waving the fingers under my nose.
"What do you smell dog? Tell me, exactly'
I inhale the long warm male fingers. This better than any poppers. My brain takes the hit.
"I can smell your sex ... your sweat .... maybe some piss ..... maybe some cum ..... maybe even some girl's cunt."
He gobs on me again. I can smell him in the spit. It's right on my upper lip and I play with it with my tongue savouring him.
He takes the hand back and smells it himself. "Good dog. So you know I knob cunt then don't you?"
"Yes Cam. Of course I know you knob cunt"
"Very good. Well I am going to treat you to some used Stella now" turning over his shoulder, he says "What about you Kev, is this right?"
"Let's go for it Cam -- got 3 pints here"
It's a bit as though I am not there now -- they are alone at the urinal.
"Does he take his clothes off?"
"Nah. Bit too risky too eh?"
Cam steps back and lifting his right foot he pushes me using his foot on my shoulder. I smell his foot and the street on his shoe and my cock oozes in my pants.
I lose my balance and slip from squatting to having my arse in the gutter of the urinal. My face is directly in front of his sex. With one movement hooking his thumb under the waistband of his pants he pulls down the front of the trackies.
First I am hit by the smell of a fit 23 year old man's cock that has been trapped in his pants all morning -- "fucking wow boys" it just comes out.
"Told you this was a real queer cunt Cam" smirked Kevin
"Fuck dog -- no one ever said that smelling my dirty cock before!"
I leaned forward and chewed on the fingers of his right hand as they held down the front of his clothing. The taste of sweat and cock on his fingers. My face just an inch from his warm hairy sack of spunk makers, jostled to a full tightness over the last hour or so. The ripe stale cotton of his underwear soaked in stale cock scent. `Fucking heaven'
Without any announcement beyond a small grunt I felt a torrent of gushing hot piss start playing over the top of my head. First falling down onto my clothing and soaking through my tee shirt. Hot, wet, smelling of lad, stream down my back and chest soaking the waistband of my trackies then my own underwear and draining under my arse into the gutter. He played the stream over my face when I turned it up towards him but he was not looking at me. I kissed his hand as he held the cock and took the loose nozzle of foreskin into my mouth. I gobbled the strong warm flow allowing my mouth to fill and then swallowing some and allowing some to run down my chin and into the stream.
As he drained himself he stood motionless in front of me. I was storing as many images as I could. The unforgettable sights and smells as this progressed. The close up cock, foreskin. The thick dark bush. The smell of sweat and sex on the underside of his full balls. God I want that spunk really bad.
Kevin is now suddenly there. The now familiar smell of my keeper's sex. Huge uncut white trash cock flopping in my face. He gobs on me twice heavily. Brilliant lad slime. He showers me in a huge second load of piss.
"Smelling so good now lads . . . . fuck I could drown happily in this" I am drenched in men's piss.
Kevin wipes his cock round my face - the foreskin slips back and I try to catch his knob in my mouth, but no luck. He tucks his cock back into his primart boxers and hauls up the trackies. He gobs on me a final time.
"Good dog . . . . but you fucking stink" he laughs.
"Just gonna step in here for a sec". Cam has backs away and walked into the lock up -- his cock flopping half hard in front of him.
"See you upstairs then mate" says Kevin as he leaves.
Footsteps going up the stairs. I sit in the piss drenched gutter and wait to see if I can hear the sound of Cam taking a dump. I am just going to wank myself off to that.
My hand in my piss soaked Bench boxas sniffing piss and working my load off.
"Oi dog, come here a mo!"
I myself onto my knees and then scoot forward to the door of the cubicle.
Cam is not taking a dump. He is leaning against the wall with his hips thrust forward in full lewd wank.
"Lick my bollocks, dog." An order. Brilliant
I can't believe my luck. I am already nearly squirting off.
"That's it. Come on"
I crawl into the lock up in front of him. I can smell sex stink on him. The cock scent has moved from ready to fuck' (like all the lads on the tube in the summer), to ready to breed' (you are fucking lucky to smell this).
The knob is obscenely curved and thick now it's hard: I imagine him fucking me, steering it into me, slippery, hot, veiny. The ball sack hitting my arse as he lunges into me.
So I lean towards him and my mouth opens around his jerking bollocks. Breathe warm onto them. Fuck mate they smell so good. With my nose in his thick pissy blond bush I work my tonge on his full sack and down towards his musky sweaty lad arse. Nice thick hair, lush taste.
"God Cam your bollocks are fucking lovely mate. You got a proper wad of spunk there, I bet"
He is somewhere else. The right hand has his cock in the grip he learned how to please himself best with. I am just there to make the spunk squirt harder and thicker. I will do that. He will enjoy this dirty urgent nut.
He stops two or three times, maybe to build to a better climax. I am now feeding again on that lush nozzle of foreskin, except now it is stretched over the fat slippery helmet of his sex. The piss slit is really deep in the cleft of the head. I need to feed on its slime.
At the fourth pause I think his bollocks are going retract into his body. They are so tight and excited. The sex stink is so full on now. He is hot -- heat is radiating of his legs. His cock is now twitching as he approaches release. He grabs my head while I am nursing gently nibbling on the bell end and he forces the thick shaft full into my mouth.
"Aw you fucking stink of my piss you dirty cunt" he gasps.
His thick white trash knob breaks through my gagging reflex. There I am drowning on his breeder spunk pumping into my gullet. The cock twitching and thrusting and his bell end locked in my throat. I am going to drown if I can't breathe soon. I feel 7 or 8 distinct thick ropes of spunk squirt for the deep piss slit. Then he pulls out and smacks my face painting me with the remaining generous warm sperm.
Finally I get to smell and taste the slimy product that is now in my belly.
That just makes me spunk off into my piss soaked pants.
Cam is tucking himself away. No interest in what I may have done.
"Nice one mate". He has adjusted his clothing and is texting on his cell phone
"See ya then mate", he's gone.
The door closes, stairs creak. I am in total heaven. Drenched and stinking of two men's piss; nearly drowned in fit lad spunk. My face painted with sperm and spit in my hair.
Now have to get out in this state. I can brave it out as I don't actually care what anyone thinks. I am shameless about having sex this good. It doesn't matter.
I get to the car after a lot of staring and even some pointing. A couple of turned up noses -- so fucking what. There's a text message. From Kevin. Time to pay for my pleasure. Whatever.
Does it get any better than this?
Maybe. You tell me.
But that was fucking good.
Cheers
tosserlad@yahoo.co.uk