This is the boring prefix.
This story is fiction and contains quite explicitly described sex scenes between males. Should this offend you may I suggest that now would be the perfect moment for you to click on your browser's back button.
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A Bad Day In Hell
Once more I woke wrapped round my lover and my cat. I very slowly disentangled myself from both and crept into the bathroom. I pointed Ole George at the toilet bowl, stretched, closing my eyes and let go. There was a warm, wet feeling round the head of my cock and I didn't need to open my eyes to know that it was my lover's mouth.
"Damnation!" I said, "I thought I was going to get away with it then."
John giggled as he drained me.
The program for today was; a quick shower, breakfast, take John to medical school, drive home, run off the job for Digby, pack it up and call my courier service to have it delivered, laze around until it was time to pick up John, bring him home, have dinner, fuck the ass off him, go to bed. All in all a nice, quiet, relaxed day.
Well the shower was not quick. Initially we went in together to save time. However John was more interested in rousing Ole George than in getting clean. In the end, I bent the hairy little beggar over so he was holding on to the shower fitting. Then I lifted him by the hips put Ole George up against his ring and lowered away.
As always the feeling of entering his firm young ass was a turnon all on its own. I am a bit dark skinned and Ole George is even darker. John is fair skinned and covered in blond hair. The sight of that dark meat sinking into the white is almost enough to make me shoot.
I bent my knees so John could just reach the floor enough to stand on tiptoe and fucked him. He had sufficient freedom of movement to wriggle about and make things more interesting. All this observing was heating me up, and so this fuck was abruptly terminated by Ole George scattering my seed inside my lover. In turn, I used my hand to scatter his seed right up the shower wall.
So the first time-wasting distraction of the day was over. But I was not in a rush so it didn't matter. Breakfast went off well and just before we set off for school I checked the telex, no messages. As the weather forecast was sunny with occasional showers and I did not intend to leave the car, I was only wearing a pair of open sandals, white shorts and a T-shirt. Now as the shorts had a pouch in them I didn't bother with underpants.
Just as we got to the end of the driveway Tinker jumped onto my shoulder, nearly causing me to scream, then from there he dropped onto John's lap.
"I didn't know cats liked travelling in cars." I said.
"Well, Cedric does." said John, and that was that.
I drove on the back roads as it was close to rush hour and the main roads would be nose-to-tail traffic. The only thing of significance on the trip was the weather began closing in. I dropped John by the university medical faculty and set off home driving towards thunderclouds.
The wind picked up and all the trees began swaying. Fat raindrops hit the glass. Tinker who was sitting on the passenger's seat dropped down onto the floor. I turned on the wipers and God turned on the tap.
There was no bang, the car just started pulling to the near side and the steering began to shudder. I swore and pulled over. In the pissing rain, I got out and surveyed the damage; one ruined tire. Now I could sit in the car until the rain stopped or I could change the wheel now. Well, I was in a bit of a hurry and already soaked, so I decided to change the wheel.
As I went to get the spare I noticed Tinker lying comfortably on the back window ledge watching me. He had a look on his face, which translated to, "This one is too stupid to come in out of the rain."
I got the car up on the jack, the wheel changed and lowered it down to find that the spare was half inflated. The air around me turned blue and crackled with my language. Fortunately, I do carry a foot pump so I made sure that my soaking was thorough by standing there pumping it up. Now I should be able to get to the nearest garage. Tinker declined to sit on me and lay on the passenger's seat looking miffed.
I found one on the outskirts of the next village. At first I thought it was deserted, until I entered the workshop and found a pair of legs sticking out from under a car. Interestingly, they were quite nice legs with thick thighs and, despite the loose one piece overall, there was a most attractive bulge at the front where they came together.
"Can I help you?" the voice spoke from behind me. I turned and found a kid about the same age as John wearing a similar one-piece overall, it was one of those that had a zip that ran from neck to crotch. He had brown hair, a rather soft face for a boy, and did not come across as overly bright. However, there was something about him that caused Ole George to want to get him alone and inseminate him. I was aware that Ole George was on the rise again.
As I explained my predicament, to him I noticed he seemed fascinated with my crotch. He went over and tapped the one of the feet sticking out from under the car, so I moved until I could catch a glimpse of my crotch area in the car's wing mirror. Fucking Hell! The white shorts had gone all but transparent with the soaking. I might as well have been standing there naked.
The figure slid out from under the car. He was not young, about forty-five I thought. A bit under my height, a body solid with muscle, the kind that comes from physical work, not exercise, his face was attractive in an animalistic sort of way. He was male, very, very, male. He just oozed testosterone from his sweat glands. God, it was so potent I could almost smell it. Old George must have had a good sniff because, despite everything I could do, he began to stiffen fully.
Once more I explained my problem.
"I can get them in thirty minutes," he said. He was a man of few words, never using a monosyllable where a grunt would do.
He departed to make a phone call. Tinker was lying on the back window of the car asleep. The man returned, told me all was well and soon I would be on my way. I got a quick glance at his groin; shit, he too was getting bigger there.
"You'd better dry your pants." he said walking off towards the back of the workshop. I automatically followed. As we got to the door he turned and said to the kid, "Look after the shop." For some reason the kid was grinning. The door lead to the kitchen of the house attached to the garage.
"Here." he said, opening the door of a tumble dryer.
There was a tension forming in the air. Both of us knew we were after sex, who would mention it first? I was being put in the awkward position of stripping, while sporting an erection. He was remaining dressed but was now as hard as me. So I stripped and chucked the T-shirt and shorts into the dryer. As I did so I heard the neck to crotch zip on his overalls being pulled down, I turned to face him.
Now in my career as a gay guy I have heard many opening shots. Some are witty, some tacky, some romantic and some crude, but his took the cake! I looked and he was standing overalls undone his erection held in his right hand.
"Want to suck on this an' slick it up?" he asked.
My amazement must have shown on my face, because he looked puzzled as he said, "You want fuckin'?"
I nodded and went down on my knees before him. Actually I didn't want to be fucked, but I knew that I was going to be fucked, as the chances of him turning over for me were midway between zero and zilch. If I wanted sex with this guy he was going to have to be top.
Looking up towards his face a magnificent sight met my eyes. He had a hairy chest. The hair narrowed down to a thin line as it proceeded down his flat stomach and round his navel then it widened out where in merged with his bush. Sticking proudly out from this was his impressive cock. It was straight, long and quite thick. Already pre-cum was seeping out of the wide slit at the top.
Soon, I thought with a shiver, that superb specimen of manhood was going to be implanted deep in my vitals. Beneath it hung his balls, the contents of which would be mine. Through the open coverall I could just glimpse the tops of those mighty thighs.
From where I was kneeling the air was full of the heady aroma of a man in heat. Somewhere in my mental makeup the wires have got crossed. This smell should do nothing for me, but in fact it gives me the urge to roll over on my belly and spread my legs. Now I wanted a good fucking.
I got the distinct impression that hewas not very sophisticated in his sexual romps. So I decided that instead of a "slicking up", I would give him one of my class A blowjobs.
A while back an American taught me how to do a blowjob. The Americans are experts at this art. I suspect that it is because 99% of American males are circumcised. This drastically reduces the sensitivity of the glans and so they really do require a lot of work to get them going. Naturally when you apply the same amount of skill to an uncut cock, where the glans has normal sensitivity, the results are usually very, er, rewarding.
Starting with the eye of his cock I put my tongue to work. The gasps from him followed quickly. As I began to pull back his foreskin and run my tongue round the head of it he began saying the word "Yes!" over and over. I strongly suspect that this was the most that he had ever said at one go in his life.
Just for fun, and to make sure he was "Slicked up" good and proper, I decided to deep throat him. I moved my position a bit so I was more bending down than kneeling and then began to swallow him whole. His bush got closer and closer until it filled my entire field of vision. When the hairs brushed my nose I deliberately gagged. His cock twitched the length of my throat.
"God!" he cried.
Now I have had SCUBA lessons. So I know full well that I can easily hold my breath for a full minute without panicking. So I repeated the cycle, gag, twitch, and cry again. With a bit of luck I could make him shoot down my throat. Unfortunately he realised this and managed, using force, to get his cock out in time.
He stood there, cock in hand, breathing like he had run up three flights of stairs. With his free hand he signalled me to turn round. I assumed we would be doing it doggy style and moved into position for it.
I felt two callused hands grab my hips and hold them fast just as his cock began parting my buns. He thrust and, in his excitement, missed the target.
"Wait!" I said, "Just hold still."
He complied and I wiggled around until he was on target. Now using all my powers of concentration I forced myself to relax back there and reversed onto him. He was big, but I've had bigger in there so as long as I didn't go into spasm until he was home I was OK. Providentially he took my request to wait seriously and just provided me with a firm base to spike myself on. He did not thrust forward, thank God.
I could hear his breathing and it was heavy. He was now fully home and I rested for about a count of five then began to wriggle my butt. He began to groan and grip my hips tightly.
"Fuck me!" I snarled.
He grunted pulled well back and thrust home. Hell it was a good long time since I had had someone his size give me a serious fucking. He rekindled a fire that I thought had long gone out. He fucked mechanically, all he was striving for was his orgasm. I kept up the wiggling and moving since it was making him feel good but breaking his rhythm and stopping him reaching his goal. But time will tell and soon I could tell he was getting near the end. I stopped wriggling and went rigid.
"Harder!" I cried.
Obligingly he moved into top gear and really plunged it home, his speed increasing with every stroke. With a feral grunt he began filling me with his seed. I could feel his manhood buck strongly within me as he poured it into me. God it felt good to have a man in there again. Eventually he slowed and stopped.
"Leave it in until it goes down." I said. Well I was curious to find out what the turnon was that John got out of this.
He just grunted, his full weight resting on my back. Quite quickly his rampant manhood began to shrink. Hey! John was right. It did feel good as it went down. I now knew what he meant when he said you felt as if you had beaten the cock inside you.
When he was limp he withdrew. Without a word he went to the sink and washed his cock, dried it and zipped up his overalls.
"Can you teach the kid?" he asked.
"To suck cock?" I asked.
"Yeah." he said in a dirty voice.
"Suck it, yes. Take it all the way into his throat, no. That takes time." I answered.
"Do it an' I'll change your tires for nuffin'." he said.
"Can I fuck him?" I asked. Well Ole George would never have forgiven me.
The man shrugged, "If you like." he said and left.
I got up and stood, naked and freshly fucked in the middle of a stranger's kitchen. The door opened and the kid entered. He came over and stood by me captivated by Ole George in his rampant glory.
I reached out and took the tab of the zipper in my hand. He made no protest as I pulled it all the way down.
Without being told, he shucked off his overalls and pulled his socks and shoes off too. Only a tented-out pair of briefs separated Ole George and me from our hearts' desire. The briefs hit the floor within five seconds. He might be about as old as John but he had a cock on him that many grown men would have given their eyeteeth to have. The kid did not seem embarrassed by it all and just looked at me for instruction.
It was a strange sight. A young man with a soft feminine body, body hair limited to a neat bush, with an adult sized cock sticking out at right angles. Still it looked good enough to eat.
"We start in a 69 position." I said expecting him to move.
"69?" He asked.
"Oh, just lie down on the carpet." I said and he did.
"No, not face down! I can't get at your cock if you lie that way, lie on your side." I said and he obeyed.
I lay head to tail, with him.
"OK, First I'll show you what to do on your cock. Then you will try it on my cock. When you can do it correctly we move on. If you don't want to do anything, just tell me. You don't have to do it unless you want to. Understand?" I said.
The kid nodded then asked, "Are you gonna suck my cock mister?"
"Yes of course." I answered.
"Cor! No one has ever sucked mine before." he said confirming my suspicions that the sex play between these two was very one-sided and only covered a minimum of the spectrum.
Starting with my tongue on the eye of his cock, we slowly progressed through all the things that a mouth and cock could do in harmony. It was obvious that, like his older partner, he had no idea of the amount of pleasure that could be generated this way. At first I had only to concentrate on not letting him slip over the edge, then I had to be careful about Ole George doing a woopsie in the kid's mouth.
Finally when he had fully mastered everything I could think of, I said, "OK this next bit is very tricky, I'm going to show you it but I doubt if you'll be able to do it."
With that I swallowed him, and, as we were inverted, it was his balls that filled my vision. I had my nose buried in them when I began to gag. His cock reacted and he let out a groan. I started gagging at intervals and he followed. Eventually I realised he was losing it and soon he was jetting his teenage cum straight down my throat. I held him there until he was finished. Then as I came up for air I got the taste of him from the dregs.
"Christ, you let me cum in your mouth!" he said incredulously.
"Mmm." I said enjoying the taste, "And next up I'm going to rim you, finger you, then fuck you."
"Rim?" he said, so I demonstrated.
He was not willing for me to do this to him. Oh, some hang-up about "doing that there" or something. This is where superior strength and weight come in handy. I ignored his protests and he got held down and rimmed until he decided it was nice and stopped fighting, then he just got rimmed.
The fingering caused no objection, he just said it was nice. By the time my third finger was in use his cock was recovering its interest in the proceedings. I think that this was the first time he had been anything more than plain fucked.
But now came the time for him to be fucked once more. Since his cock was long enough and erect again I decided on the old "face to face" fuck. To this end I had him sit on the end of the table facing me, then lie on his back, I stood in front of him and placed his legs on my shoulders. This positioned Ole George quite nicely.
I lubed him up as best I could using spit and probed around gently. Almost instantly I secured my goal and with a slight push Ole George entered him. Using as little force as possible I slowly speared him.
He sighed contentedly, "You do it nice."
I nodded as I waited for his ass and Ole George to sort things out between them. That done I began to jerk Ole George inside his ass. This made him wriggle and move his ass. From the sounds he made he liked it.
"OK," I said "now you move your ass on my cock and make me feel good." He tried and after a little practice he got the system. Then I fucked him. Given what I had gone through in this kitchen, I was surprised how long I lasted. As the end loomed I bent forwards and flicked the end of his cock into my mouth. I am quite "bendy", both his cock and mine were quite long, so it was possible to blow him and fuck him at the same time.
The dual stimulation had him thrashing about on the table such that I was having to restrain him. In the end he lost the unequal battle and this time it was my mouth that got filled. After I had emptied his nuts for the second time I released his cock from my mouth and went into the end game of a straight fuck. The kid received not only his own share of my cum, he got what the man should have had as well. Yup, Ole George really had a field day up there.
The kid looked stunned.
"Christ, that was the best that I've ever had." he said.
"Who else has been up there?" I asked, being nosy.
"Just you and Dad." he said.
"Dad?" I heard myself whimper. Please say that you are joking, I thought.
"Yes ever since Mom died..." he started
"Your Dad has been fucking your ass?" I finished for him.
"Well no. I used to sit on his knee as a kid and play with it. But he always used to stop me before he came." he said, "Then when I was fourteen Mom died suddenly and the next time I played with it he didn't stop me, he just came all over me. Not long after that he began playing around with my bum and tried to fuck me but I couldn't take him. So I sucked on him to make it slippery then I sat on his knee until he was in. It hurt quite a bit the first time. He is not gentle, like you."
"Can we shower?" I asked. He nodded and I carefully retrieved Ole George from his hiding place. Apart from some kissing and cuddling in the shower not much happened. Except I learned that the kid, in his Dad's words was, "the daughter he had never had". Perhaps it was as well the kid was a son. God alone knows how often his Dad would have knocked him up if he had been a girl.
We dried and returned to the kitchen my shorts and T-shirt were dry, so I could dress. Returning to the garage we found that my car was ready, tires delivered and fitted.
"Teach 'im?" the man inquired.
Both the kid and I nodded.
"Fuck 'im?" he asked.
Again we both nodded.
"If you wanna fuck 'im again you can." said the man, magnanimously fondling his son's buns.
I sort of nodded and the kid blushed. Then his Dad put his arm round him and gave him a hug,
"He's all I got." he said and I suddenly realised that they were lovers.
True to his word I paid only the cost of the tires. Maybe I might get some of my car servicing here. The prices were right and I could get a servicing myself at the same time. I made my goodbyes and set off for home. By now I was over two hours late, but I had lots of time. Tinker deigned to sit on my knee for the rest of the journey. He was most content and purred all the way home.
I looked in and found a long length of paper hanging out of the telex. I tore it off and read it as I made lunch. It seemed simple enough, in a couple of hours I could have the job finished, I thought.
Lunch over I retired to the computer room followed by Tinker who was quite content to spend the next thirty minutes on my knee whilst I translated the information from the telex sheets to punched cards. When I was satisfied with my handy work I left Tinker on my chair and walked over to the card reader. I put the cards in and thumbed the ready button. The ready lamp lit but bugger all else happened. Puzzled I walked over to what I liked to call the operations console, actually a matrix printer with a keyboard.
It was quite a shock to see a "memory dump", the principal areas of the operating system, printed out. Some time in the night the system had crashed. Another thirty minutes were lost discovering that the disk subsystem was at fault. I carefully listened to my sole replaceable disk drive, I could hear nothing. This was good, it was not likely to be a head crash. Next I spun it down, removed the disk, and then removed its shroud. Yes I know customers shouldn't know how to do that but, as we shall see, I have a pet engineer.
The disk looked clean to the naked eye so I replaced the shroud and remounted the drive. I dare not try the diagnostic disk pack, just in case I had missed a head crash, so I began to test the system from paper tape. Not the fastest, but the safest method. A further hour later and I had found the fault, it was in the disk controller. I even knew which circuit board.
Alas I am a small operation and I cannot afford on site spares. Nor for that matter can I afford a critical maintenance contract. In fact I have one that says they will have an engineer on site within 24 hours. Now, as I said, I have a pet engineer, Mike.
Mike has a few weaknesses, first despite his average looks he is a total computer nerd. His sex life seems to consist of looking at dirty books full of naked girls being screwed and jacking off over them. That is where I come in. I frequently take dirty weekends in Amsterdam, where the porn is hard enough for his tastes.
Now for the relatively minor expense of buying some hard core porn I had Mike eating out of the palm of my hand. Naturally I only dished the books out to him a few at a time, so my next stop was to check my supplies.
Two fell into what I call category A for him, that is white girls being screwed by black men who had dicks that would not look out of place on a donkey. The third was category B, a girl getting gang banged. It was my entire stock but it would be worth it if I could get a "critical response time".
I phoned the Computer Company and asked for Mike. Shit, he was out on a call. I managed to get the phone number of the customer out of the dispatcher and eventually got Mike. Yes, he had a disk controller kit in his car. Yes, I could have a replacement circuit board from it. The big problem was, he was working on a fault and couldn't tell when he would be finished.
OK, this I could work around, so I jumped in the car and drove off to meet him. Tinker declined to come with me; in fact he gave me a disgusted look. It took me an hour each way but I got the board. I got back home. Powered down, changed the board, prayed, powered up and it all worked.
I got the system running thumbed the ready button on the card reader and the machine began to move the cards. I took a quick look at my watch and screamed. Not only was I way behind time I still had to pi ck up John from school. I left the computer to do its thing and drove off, again alone. Tinker seemed to be happy on the chair before the cardpunch.
John was waiting patiently when I arrived. He listened sympathetically to my woes and giggled about the bit in the garage. He seemed disappointed that we didn't stop there on the way home.
When I did get home I put him on the cooking of dinner and went back into the computer room. Fucking Hell! This time the job had bombed with an illegal address. This means that my program had tried to get somewhere that it shouldn't go. Now there is a sanity check on every item of data entering the program and the program had been run hundreds of times without problems, so my initial diagnosis was a machine failure.
An hour later, having run all the diagnostics, and eaten dinner from tray, I knew that the computer and all its peripheral equipment were working OK. So I dug out the source code, the hex listing of the complied program and the crash dump and began to workout the problem. Then Mike arrived. I gave him the faulty circuit card and his reward.
This was a mistake, I should have seen him out to his van, then given him his reward. He sat in a corner making excited noises. Each time he interrupted me I lost the thread of what I was doing.
It all came to a head when he said. "That's impossible!"
Wearily I got up to look. One of the pictures was the white girl taking the black guy with the donkey dick up her ass. Considering what I had seen go up someone's ass in the Dungeon the other night it was petty small beer. I made some comment to this effect.
I also noticed that Mike's cock was straining to get out of his jeans. "Mike," I said, "I want you to look at the nice pictures in the book while I fix something for you."
"What?" he said.
"Look-at-the-pictures." I said through clenched teeth. Then I unzipped his fly and released his cock.
"What???" he said much more stridently. He knew I was gay but I had never put the make on him before.
"Look-at-the-fucking-pictures, or I'll bite it off!" He looked at the pictures.
He had quite a nice cock and for the third time that day I did one of my better blowjobs. Between the photos and me, it took less than a minute to solve his problem. He came copiously and I swallowed.
"There, feeling better now?" I asked.
He was looking at me with a strange look in his face.
"Oh shit." I said, "Don't tell me you have never has someone do that to you before?"
He shook his head.
"I have it on good authority that girls do it as well."
He shook his head and said, "I wouldn't know. As soon as I talk to a girl her eyes glaze over and she goes away."
"What do you talk about?" I asked.
"Computers." he said brightly.
I rolled my eyes. "Tell them that your job is one that you can't talk about." I said.
"Well then what do I talk about." he said.
I did mention that he was a nerd, didn't I?
"Get her to tell you all about herself. Keep the conversation as far as possible from yourself and your work. Say as little as possible, get her to drink wine and keep topping up her glass. Try not to drink any yourself. Then when her eyeballs are floating, take her to bed." I advised. Well this system works fine with guys.
He nodded. Now his interest in the books had waned I could get rid of him. After many hours I discovered the faults. Yes, there were two, working in tandem. The first had been there all along in the sanity check. The date should have been checked to see if the day of the month was with in range, this took the month number and used it to look up a table with the maximum number of days in every month. Simple? Yes but what I had forgot to do was, first test if the month number was twelve or less.
The second mistake was in my data cards, I had reversed the month and day fields. Digby worked for an American company and they put the month first then the day of the month. Completely fucking unbelievable! I had spent the entire evening looking for a bloody stupid fault caused by finger trouble. When the computer tried to look up the length of the non-existent month 21, it accessed a part of memory that was off limits and stopped dead.
Flaming mad, I made the corrections and ran the job. It worked perfectly. Just for good measure I ran it again and got identical results. One copy I left in the computer room the other I took across to the house with me. The way my luck was running I would lose one copy in a fire. As I left the computer room Tinker jumped on my shoulder and purred loudly all the way across to the house.
In the lounge the TV was showing snow and hissing, the transmitter had long since closed down. On the settee was John, out like a light, dressed in one of my T-shirts. In front of him was a glass of my best whisky only half drunk. On the floor was an untidy heap of his clothes. I sighed. Automatically I picked the clothes up and made a neat pile of them. Tinker jumped off and went to sniff around John. I stepped into the kitchen and hell broke lose.
It is truly amazing how much noise one small cat can make. I dashed back into the lounge. John was bolt upright on the settee. On the floor in front of him was Tinker, all his fur was on end, his ears were back, his back was arched, and he was displaying an incredible number of teeth for such a little cat.
"What the fuck?" I said.
"He wants me out of here." said John with absolute certainty in his voice.
"Why?" asked.
"For your protection, that is all I know." said John gathering up his clothes.
"I'll get the car out." I said moving towards the door. The chime sounded. We froze. The chime sounded again. Two cars had entered the drive, we could no longer leave by car.
"The Dungeon." We said in unison and dashed to the hall. I opened the panel, reached in, turned on the light, John went in and I closed it behind him. Quickly I thought, was there anything of his lying about? I checked the bedroom, nothing. I checked the bathroom. Shit! There were two toothbrushes and two razors. I grabbed his set and shot upstairs. There are no streetlights in the countryside. So my house has small night-lights all over. This stops guests bumping into things in the dark.
Thank goodness I fitted them because they now allowed me to move around without putting lights on and alerting whoever was coming up the drive. I put the razor and toothbrush in the guest bathroom and dashed into a guest bedroom to see where they were on the drive. Strange, I could see no headlights, so I went back downstairs.
In the lounge Tinker was sitting quietly on the settee. On the table was the glass of whisky. Bugger it! I lifted it and moved to the door. I did not put any lights on. I opened the back door just in time to see two cars drive in on sidelights, their headlights were off. I could also hear it was raining heavily. Strange it had been dry a few moments ago when I came across with Tinker.
Three car doors slammed. There was some hurried conversation, a small hand lamp lit and then footsteps began coming towards me. I waited until they were in the middle of the yard and as far from any cover as possible then I hit the switch that turns on the outside lamps. The darkness turned to light and caught in the middle were three, wet policemen. If my knowledge of police uniforms was up to par I had caught an Inspector, a Sergeant and a Constable.
"We're the police." said the Inspector, stating the totally bleeding obvious.
"Yes I had rather gathered that." I said in a mildly sarcastic voice.
"And do what do I owe the honour of this visit at such a convenient hour?" there was a little more sarcasm now. They made their way through the rain towards me.
The Inspector was a stranger but I had seen the other two in town.
"You are Mr Nicholas Mathews?" inquired the Inspector.
I nodded.
"I am Inspector Jenkins. We have it on good authority that you have been breaking the law." he said.
"Like driving up dark roads only on sidelights?" I inquired, making no attempt to disguise the sarcasm.
"No. We believe that you have on these premises, one Johnstone Williams, a minor, and you have been engaging in homosexual sex with him contrary to the 1967 Sexual Offences Act." He said.
"And where would this Johnstone Williams, a minor, be?" I enquired.
"We intend to search these premises until we find him." said the Inspector stepping forwards as if to enter the door. I remained blocking it. He noticed that I was bigger than him and hadn't moved.
"So if you would just stand aside Sir and let us get on with our job." he said smoothly.
"Search the premises?" I mused. "Now to do that you will require a search warrant. I believe, under the law, I am allowed a tiny peek at it."
All three figures reacted to this. Their body language now read, "Oh shit!" for the Inspector, "I told you so", for the Sergeant and the Constable was having a silent giggle.
"Oh dear, don't tell me you were trying to sneak passed me without a warrant Inspector, that is very naughty you know. Whatever would your superiors think?" my voice was now silky and threatening.
The Inspector blustered then said, "I can easily go and get a warrant. The Sergeant and Constable can guard the premises to ensure that no one leaves the building before I return."
I looked at the other pair. The rain was lashing down and they were dripping wet. I really didn't have the heart to be so cruel.
"I do not think that standing around in the rain would do them any good, you might as well come in and get on with it." I said magnanimously.
I stood aside to let them pass. The Inspector strode passed, the Sergeant thanked me quietly and the Constable nodded his thanks.
Without thinking I took a sip from the glass in my hand. SHIT!!! I had a mouthful of whisky! I forced myself to swallow and went into a coughing fit.
"Go down the wrong hole, Sir?" inquired the Sergeant solicitously.
I dumbly nodded and put the glass down on the hall table. With my eyes weeping I got passed them and led the way down the hall.
"We will start in the bedroom," said the Inspector. Tinker jumped down and began following us.
I led the way. In the bedroom the bed was made and obviously had not been slept in. For dramatic effect, and to let me get over the whisky, I lifted the edge of the covers and invited them to look under the bed. The Inspector was the only one who looked.
"What is behind that door?"
"A cupboard."
It was opened and inspected.
"And that door?"
"The bathroom."
We all trooped into the bathroom. My voice had come back and I could just sense that the Inspector was not a happy man. He had obviously expected to have turned me out of my bed, and be half-asleep. Instead I was fully dressed and wide-awake. Add to this the fact that there was neither hunt nor hair of anyone else in my bed, did nothing help his humour. His body language also told me he was a bit of a prude and did not like being in the same room as a gay guy. There was the possibility of some fun here.
On the shelf was the tube of KY that I had used to lube up the object of their search. The Inspector picked it up disdainfully and sniffed it.
"If you knew where that had been, you wouldn't do that, Inspector." I told him, causing him to quickly move it away from his face.
"What has it been used for?" he inquired.
"As a lubricant during buggery." I said.
The inspector went quite white. The Sergeant suppressed a smile and the young Constable turned his back.
"This room constitutes a `private place' within the meaning of the Act. As a homosexual I am entitled to bugger another consenting adult male in here, am I not?" I inquired.
The Inspector had now told me all I needed to know, he was squeamish and I could play on it. But it appeared that I had already done more than I needed to do to make him lose his cool. He removed the top of the tube, then, slowly and deliberately, he squeezed the contents onto the floor. I realised that was a childish move, designed to annoy me, so I stood there calmly and watched him.
When he was finished I inquired in patronising tone, "Feeling better now you've done that, Inspector?"
He took one step in my direction, I think he intended to hit me. But he never made it. Everything went into slow motion for me. His foot was in the air. Tinker screamed as if he had been trodden on. The Inspector turned mid stride at the sudden noise and his foot came down on the mess of KY on tiled floor.
Now if you read the side of the tube you will discover that KY is described as "A Surgical Lubricating Jelly". As such it drastically reduces the coefficient of friction between two solid surfaces. Previously the contents of the tube had performed this function when the surfaces in question had been John's ring and Ole George. And I may say what an excellent job it did then.
This time the surfaces were the sole of the Inspector's shoe and my tiled floor. The same level of excellence was repeated. The Inspector's foot shot out and he went arse over tit. On his way to meet the floor his head hit the edge of the toilet bowl with a sickening thud. The slow motion sequence ended with Tinker shooting out the bathroom door and taking refuge under the bed.
The Sergeant went to his Inspector's assistance, I went for the First Aid Kit, and the Constable stepped back into the bedroom to regain his composure. I am not normally a sadist, however I did enjoy putting iodine in the gash on the Inspector's head. Well a toilet bowl, as I said at the time, is not the most sterile thing in the world to split your head open on.
Between us we got him patched up. The Sergeant and the Constable helped him back to one of the cars. I noticed the rain had stopped. With him safely in the car the Sergeant directed the Constable to go to the casualty department of the hospital and off they went.
"I'd like to thank you for your co-operation tonight, Sir." he said.
"Well you might have caught your death, standing in all that rain, Sergeant." I replied.
"Ah yes. A word of caution, if I may. The Inspector has a bee in his bonnet about, er, your kind, and I don't think he will give up easily. If you get my drift, Sir." The Sergeant said as he got into the other car.
"A nod is as good as a wink to a blind man, Sergeant." I said grinning, and off he went.
I waited until the chime had sounded twice before I went down the Dungeon.
There I found my love looking quite contrite. Quickly I related what had happened.
"Not bad for a two pound cat." he said grinning briefly. A cold hand gripped my heart. Shit that ruddy cat had protected me.
"I have a confession to make." said John looking quite repentant.
"Yes?"
"I was playing with one of Max's toys..." he paused.
"And you broke it?"
"Oh no!"
"Well?"
"I slipped and now it is stuck." he said. Then he bent over and lifted the back of the T-shirt. Between his lovely furry buns was the black base of one of Max's butt plugs.
It may have been the tension of all the frustrations of the day, or it might just have been the excitement of the last half-hour, but whatever the cause, I lost it totally. I had heard the expression, laugh until your ribs hurt, but this was the first time I had ever had it happen to me. I was helpless on the ground, holding my sides and the tears running down my face.
It appears that, to pass the time, the lad had selected a butt plug, greased it up and squatted down on it in an attempt to insert it. He had then lost his balance, sat down on it hard, ramming it home. The problem now came from the design of butt plug he had chosen. In profile it looked a bit like the Spade in a deck of cards. Starting at the top it widened out to its maximum gradually. But then once passed the bulge it very precipitously fell to quite a narrow diameter at the neck before flaring out to the base.
When I stopped laughing I inspected the base of it carefully. There was a stout metal ring embedded in it, obviously this predicament had been thought of at the design stage. There was also a small electrical socket embedded in the base. Oo-er, this was one of the deluxe models.
"Well we could put a piece of rope through the ring in the base and have you run up and down. Then when you are not looking I could stand on the end of the piece of rope and..." that was as far as I got before I cracked up.
John was sitting astride me pounding on my chest to stop me laughing.
"On the other hand we could have you lie face down on the floor, run the rope through one of pulleys on the roof and I could just hoist you up until it came out." I managed to get out before the next giggle fit took me away.
When I sobered up this time I realised that the joke had gone far enough for John and began to take the problem seriously. A trip to the local hospital was out of the question as the Inspector was being treated there, so we had to get it out on our own. He could not stand the pain of a direct pull, no matter how gently I tried. This left one possible solution, distracting his attention with some other sensation.
The small electric socket pointed the way. I rooted around and soon found the battery pack. I inserted the plug the on the battery pack cord into the socket in the base of the butt plug and was rewarded by the sound of the plug's internal vibrator starting up.
"Whathefuckisthat?" yelped John.
"Just something for you to enjoy and make you get hard." I said. Then I slicked up my palm of my left hand with spit and got a firm grip on the ring, by pushing my right index finger through it.
"Ok Pull back your foreskin and hold your cock steady." I said, and he did it.
Swiftly I rubbed the glans of his cock with my lubricated palm. This causes total sensory overload to the uncut cock. As he screamed I pulled firmly. His ring dilated and the plug slid out. I switched it off. Inserted my middle finger in his now slack ring, put his cock in my mouth and did nice things to him until he rewarded me.
So it was 5 am when I finally made it to bed.
To Be Concluded.