This is a work of fiction. It includes scenes of BDSM and piss play between adult males. No resemblance to persons living or dead is intended. If you are underage, or if possession of this text is illegal in your area, leave now. Some of the activities described in this story may cause injury or transmit diseases, including HIV. Please play safe--I don't want to lose any fans!
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Making Do with What You Have
He was adorable, shy and assertive in just the right balance. We'd been catching each other's eyes off and on for most of the evening. The Men's Room bar had recently decided to go Western, so my denim jacket and jeans fit right in, my construction boots and my pink "Go On, Ask Me!" tee-shirt not so much. He was wearing khaki slacks and a pale blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and it was time to test the waters. I walked over to him. "What're you drinking?"
"Tequila sunrise, but I just got one." His glass was almost full. "You?"
"Bar scotch. Bad choice. Who the hell makes crap like this?" I held up my glass.
"I think they just pour all the left-over shit into those bottles. That's why I only drink beer and mixed drinks."
"Wise beyond your years," I smile. My name's Theo."
"Hi, Theo. I'm George, but you can call me just about anything else. Jersey works."
"Jersey it is, then. You play pinball?"
"Not very well. Want to dance, or something?"
"I'm afraid I'm kind of dangerous on the dance floor."
"I like your shirt. I guess I should ask...something, huh?"
I smiled. "Yeah."
"You...you looking for anything special?"
"You come pretty close. I can get a little kinky, though."
"That's kind of tempting. You...you got a place?"
"Not tonight. I've got a roommate--and it's his turn, tonight."
"Damn! And my lover's home."
Whoops. "Um...your lover?"
"It's okay--he lets me mess around now and again. But not at our place."
I nodded. "Seems fair."
"You got a lover, or is he really a roommate?"
"No, and Yes. I don't have a lover and he is really a roommate. And he's straight."
"Does he know about you?"
"Yeah. It was kind of nice, actually. We met, looking at the same apartment, he suggested sharing, I told him I was gay--"
"You're just right out there, huh?"
"It always comes out eventually. I just don't bother with the games anymore. And he was cool with that, so it all turned out good. Besides, he's not really my type."
"Am I?"
"Very much, to be honest. At least tonight."
"You're sort of mine, too. Especially if you're a little kinky. Kind of frustrating, then, huh?"
"You know...there's a cheap motel on the edge of town. I can pay. It's got to be a better deal than this scotch!"
"Oh my God! Really?"
"You seem excited."
"I have always wanted to do that--you mean the Fir Tree, out on Central?"
"That's the one!"
"I'm in!" Jersey announced, chugging his tequila sunrise.
"Your car or mine?" I said, setting my glass down.
"Take me away!"
Jersey followed me to my car, which was actually a Japanese pick-up truck. At least it made me look big, standing next to it. I would have traded it in, but it was stubbornly well-behaved even though I neglected it, and it had great gas mileage. You find a vehicle like that, you hold on to it, even if it is powder blue.
The Fir Tree was actually not too bad, just kind of tired--fresh paint and new carpets would do wonders. The faggot in me started mentally redecorating it as soon as we walked in. Jersey started to strip. He had his priorities straight, at least. I did the same.
Jersey had what you'd call a boyish body. If he was still a teenager, you'd expect him to fill out pretty nicely. But he was twenty-two, he admitted, which made me feel a little less like a dirty old man at thirty- one. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down to the bed with him and we did some serious necking and fondling. I nibbled his ear lobes. He came close to giving me a hickey. We sucked each other's tits. He suddenly buried his face in my armpit, sniffing deeply, which surprised me, but hey! Why not? I let him do that for a while, then spun him around on the bed and started sixty-nining.
"Ooh! Not yet, Theo! Not yet! Let's play, first."
"Play?" I responded, after I ever so slowly pulled my lips off of his rather impressive cock.
"You said something about kinky?"
"Yeah. Interested?"
"Can you tie me up?"
"Love to!" Then it hit me: we weren't in my bedroom with my box of toys under the bed. And what kind of kinkster drives a pick-up truck with no rope in it? Guilty! I pulled my belt free of my pants and wrapped it around Jersey's neck. It was just the right length to go around twice and buckle.
"Can you tie my hands?"
I grabbed his belt, but experience had taught me that belts weren't the best choice for hands. They worked on feet, but I wasn't sure I wanted him that helpless--at least not yet. I blindfolded him with my shirt: effective but not sexy-looking. Jersey was definitely liking it, though. He put his hands behind his back, which looked great from the front, but clearly wasn't satisfying for either of us. I looked around the room. Aha! Bootlaces! And they were rawhide, yet. It took me a couple of minutes to get one of them unlaced and wrapped around Jersey's wrists so it would be tight enough to hold him without cutting off his circulation. If he'd really wanted to free himself, he could have, but he was clearly not interested in that. "Kneel!" I commanded. "Open wide!" And I plunged my cock into his mouth. "Suck me!"
Jersey went to work eagerly, and he was damn good at it. I looked past his head and the wad of pink tee- shirt: his cock was nice and stiff. The blindfold may have been working for him, but it wasn't for me. I like to see their eyes looking up at me. So I took the makeshift blindfold off and ordered him to look at my face while he sucked me. Adorable, like I said. I took a guess. "You been a bad boy?"
He made a sort of "yes"-like sound.
"Need a spanking?"
He tried to keep sucking and nod at the same time.
"Sit back!" I ordered and he slo-o-o-wly slid his mouth off my cock. The chair had arms, so I sat on the bed and patted my lap. "Get up here, young man!"
"Yes, Daddy." He actually managed to look guilty as he walked over to my lap and laid himself across it.
I put one hand between his shoulders, and rested the other on his nice, tight ass. He wiggled in response. I gave him a slap, and he took it quietly, so number two was harder. Still not much response, so I let him have it with number three.
"Please, Daddy! It hurts!"
"It's supposed to, you little scamp. You keep your hands out of the way, boy!"
"Yes, Sir."
Whack!
Whimper.
Whack!
Whimper.
Whack!
"I won't do it again, Daddy!"
Whack!
"I promise, Daddy. I'll be good!"
Whack!
"Please don't spank me again, Daddy!"
Whack!
"Please, Daddy! I'll suck your cock, Daddy!"
"You promise me you won't do it again?"
"I promise, Daddy!"
Whack! "And one more, for good measure!" Whack!
And he started crying. Now, as it happens, there are at least two types of crying in situations like this: the crying that can happen when you go beyond the bottom's limits, and the crying that happens when something gets released: a sort of purging. I was almost certain that this was the second type. I waited a few seconds, then, "Are you going to be a good boy and do what Daddy says, or am I going to have to spank you some more?"
"I'll be good, Daddy! I promise!"
Whack! "Cross your heart?"
"Yes, Daddy. Cross my heart."
"All right, then. One more, so you won't forget again!" Whack!
"Thank you, Daddy!" Jersey said, loudly. I let him off my lap.
"On your knees, Son!"
"Yes, Daddy."
"See my boots over there?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Fetch! Go get them!"
"Yes, Daddy." He did his best to crawl over with his hands tied behind him, picked up one boot in his mouth and brought it back, then retrieved the other one.
"Kiss Daddy's boots, Son!"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Now, Son, since you're being a good boy, I'm going to give you a choice. You can lick my boots, or suck my toes."
Jersey looked up at me. "Really? Really, Daddy?"
"Choose, boy."
"May I lick your feet, first?"
"Go ahead, boy." That was a bit of a surprise, but Jersey went right to work. He rolled to his side so he could straighten his legs, then rolled back, and began by licking the tops of my feet. He started with long, slow strokes from toe to ankle, then shorter strokes sideways. I'm not really into feet, myself, but it was certainly arousing, seeing Jersey so completely into it. After a few minutes of this, he rolled over on his back and said, "Please put your feet on my face, Daddy."
I teased him, sliding my feet all over his face, growling "Lick my feet, boy!" and watched his cock, waving frustrated in mid-air. He was happy as a humiliated clam. I waited for a while, until things got really ticklish down there, then ordered him to lick his way up my legs to my cock. "You like this, Son?" I asked when he was about half-way up.
"Oh, yes, Daddy!" He managed to keep his tongue firmly on my leg while he spoke. Like I said, I wasn't particularly into foot stuff, but I was definitely getting off on this! And so, obviously, was Jersey. He was working on the inside of my thighs when I felt something hit my foot.
"Lean back, boy!" I ordered, and as he did, I saw another drop of pre-cum glistening on the end of his shaft. Nice! "Get back to lickin'!" I let him get all the way up to my balls. "Feels like you're getting lazy, Son. I'm gonna give you a break. Go sit in the chair!
"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy!"
As soon as he was seated, I straddled his legs and forced his head between my legs while I untied his hands. I set one on each arm. I tied one in place with the rawhide, wrapping it around his wrist and the chair arm a few times, then passing the end between his arm and the chair's and around the loops, so I could snug the loops up. Then I got the other shoelace and tied his other wrist. His belt wouldn't make it around his chest and the back of the chair, and mine didn't fit into his buckle, so I used the belts to secure his feet to the back legs. That way, he wouldn't be able to push the chair over. The chair was kind of deep, though, so I had to slide his ass forward some. Since he couldn't move his arms, that meant his upper body was stretched nice and wide. I tied one of my pant legs loosely around his neck, and the other leg to the crossbar between the back legs of the chair. Finally, I tied my socks together to make a gag. It wasn't elegant, but it would do the job.
"Son, I don't think you're good enough at blow jobs, so I'm going to show you how it's done. But you better not cum, understand? You cum and you're going to be punished. Got it?"
He made a sound I decided to take as a "Yes."
I knelt down in front of the chair and went to work on his cock: a nice, slow, teasing blow job. After he was good and hard, I took my mouth off and said, "You liking this, Son?" Again, I got that sound that I decided meant "Yes, Daddy." "Remember, you're not to cum!" And then I went back to work, doing everything I could think of to make him cum--almost. When he got close, I stopped for a bit and went to work on his tits. He had nice, sensitive tits. I pinched them, squeezed them, ran my palms over them really gently, then worked them with my teeth until he was moaning through the gag. Then I went back to his cock. It was getting more and more sensitive, too. Tits, cock, tits, cock. After a bit, he was struggling pretty hard, but I'm proud to say my bondage held.
When he was getting so close I wasn't sure I could stop in time, I stood up and took off his gag. "You ready to take my piss, boy?" This was pushing it, I knew. I didn't expect what I got in response.
"Yes, Daddy. Please piss on me. Can you do it in the tub, and piss all over me?"
Okay. That god-awful scotch was going to be good for something, after all! I untied him--not without a little attention to his cock and tits, just to keep him hot--and led him into the bathroom by his hair. "Get into that tub and close the drain."
"Yes, Daddy."
"Now lie down on the bottom of the tub, head at the drain end."
"Yes, Daddy." He lay down and put his feet on the edge.
Now, not to brag, but I've got a pretty big bladder. When it's really full, there's a good minute's worth or more in there. So first, I ordered Jersey to bring his knees to his chest, so I could get a good shot at his butt. I pissed on his legs, then ordered him to put his feet back on the edge of the tub while I pissed my way up his body to his crotch. His cock, I was pleased to see, was still nice and hard. I paused for just a bit, sprayed his tits, and then headed for the grand finale piss onto his face. "Open your mouth, boy!" I commanded, and he did, eagerly. I don't know if you've ever tried drinking something while lying at a head-down angle, but it's not easy: he had to take a mouthful, hold it while he sat up enough to swallow it, then lie down for the next mouthful. Several times.
At last, I was done. I shook my cock to spatter the last few drops on his body. "Well, boy? What do you say?"
"Thank you, Daddy. So much piss! Thank you!" He started to get out of the tub.
"Whoa, Son! Where do you think you're going? We haven't cum, yet. Better get to it!"
Jersey started to get to his knees. "What are you doing, Son?"
"Getting ready to suck your cock, Daddy, like you showed me!"
"I told you, you're not good enough! You lie back down there and watch!" And I started stroking my dick. Jersey was watching my every move. "Go ahead and work your prick, Son!"
"Thank you, Daddy!"
"No cumming until I say so, though."
"Yes, Daddy." He started pumping his dick, his eyes locked onto mine.
I held off as long as I could, while I watched him work his dick, lying in the cooling puddle of my piss, getting hotter and hotter, but finally--"Shoot, Son!" I tried to aim my spunk for his face. Jersey's just went all over: long arcs of cream shot out, then splashed onto his body. And on the side of the tub, and on the wall above the faucets. Impressive.
I had one last touch: "Okay, Son. Now scoop up all that jizz and eat it!"
"Yes, Daddy!" It looked almost like Jersey was crying--type two again: freeing a little more of himself. We showered, and I reluctantly took him back to the bar, so he could drive home to his lover. "Hey, Jersey!" I said, as he got out of my truck.
"Yeah?"
"Remember what your Daddy showed you, Son: go for it!"
He stuck his head back into the cab. "Yes, Daddy!" he grinned.
False dawn was coming up as I pulled into my parking space behind the apartment building. We could have had a lot more fun with my box of toys, but sometimes you just have to make do with what you've got.