Telephone Receiver

TELEPHONE RECEIVER by Sebastian Wallace

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E-mail: sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk

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Just after I first moved to Leeds, a mate of mine from Southampton came to stay with me for a few nights. The bedsit I was renting back then was fairly cramped and basic but Rob and I had known each other for three or four years and weren't too hung up about seeing each other in varying states of undress. The fact there was only one single bed also wasn't an issue because Rob said he didn't mind sleeping on the couch.

At that time, Rob was getting pretty serious with a girl called Ashlene in Southampton and it was pretty clear, from the way he tried to casually bring her name into just about every conversation we had, that his visit was causing him to miss her enormously. I appreciated him forgoing a few days with her to be with me, because he knew I was finding it difficult to find my feet in a new city and was struggling to meet new friends.

Rob has always had a reputation for being constantly horny and his visit to Leeds proved to be no exception. The guy seemed to have a permanent hard-on making a rod in his boxer-briefs, from first thing in the morning making coffee ("You gonna put cream in my coffee with that, mate?") to last thing at night. I made a comment about him needing to play with it, rather hoping we might do it together because I've always enjoyed the extra dimension of intimacy mutual masturbation brings to a friendship between two straight men, but he flatly refused. He said he'd always believed that wanking is for guys without girlfriends; guys in a relationship should devote their sexual energies to their partners.

"But what if she happens to have a headache or something?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Well, yeah, I suppose that's okay. As long as I'm with her when I'm doing it and focussing on her."

I smiled. "I've never had any issues with wanking, in or out of a relationship."

"Yeah. I heard you giving yourself a quiet once over last night, mate." He grinned at my self-conscious blush. "I wasn't gonna say anything about it, you know..."

"Sorry. I just kind of felt the urge." I had thought I was being very discrete about it.

He laughed. "I don't have a problem with it, Seb. It's just that I don't feel right about doing it if I'm supposed to be being faithful to a girl."

"So you live with a constant hard-on?"

"They're not quite constant," he chuckled. "And they're a sort of reminder of what's waiting for me when I get back to Southampton."

The last night Rob stayed with me was partly spent trying to rig up my old and battered mobile phone to make a call to Ashlene. He'd forgotten to bring his charger with him and his phone had finally given up and died while he'd been talking to her the previous evening. I'd been meaning to buy a new phone for about a year, but had never found the time to.

"It's got loads of credit on it," I explained to him as I tried to find it among the boxes of stuff I'd brought up with me from Southampton. "It's just that -- well, I guess I must have dropped it, so the battery doesn't fit properly and it can't hold a charge. As long as it's plugged in all the time, though, it's fine..."

"Hence the term `mobile' phone, huh?"

I smiled, pulling the phone and its tangled charger from its hiding place among my boxed up CD collection.

It turned out that the charger also wasn't exactly in pristine working order. The cable coming out from the chunky plug was a bit loose and it had to be held in exactly the right position otherwise the phone wouldn't receive any electricity.

"Have you got any tape we could use to stick it down?" Rob asked.

"You wanna look for some among that lot?" I asked him, gesturing to my pile of boxes.

We eventually managed to get the phone working so long as Rob held onto the plug with one hand and held the handset, including its loose battery, with the other.

"I'll give her a call after we've had a few beers, mate," he said. "She doesn't get home from work `til after twelve."

We went out for a few drinks, trying to work out which of the many pubs littering the streets around my bedsit should become my `local'. After sampling half a dozen, we decided that it might be safer to buy some cans and hire a couple of movies from the Seven Eleven at the end of my street.

We were both feeling pretty merry by the time we stripped down to our underwear, preparing to turn in for the night at about one o'clock in the morning.

While Rob was pouring us one last night-cap, I noticed my mobile phone on the floor and called over to Rob, "Hey, weren't you going to call Ashlene?"

"Shit, yeah! I completely forgot!"

I glanced at the front of his underwear, a pair of pale grey boxer briefs. Although half-hidden by his teeshirt, his cock was clearly limp inside them.

"Looks like your reminder's a bit too drunk this evening..."

Rob laughed. "Yeah, this must be the one time it's given me a bit of peace..."

We put the mobile phone together and Rob made his call sitting on my bed, the only place where he could comfortably reach a plug socket to hold the phone's loose power cable in place.

I gave him as much space as I could to talk with Ashlene in the confines of the bedsit, pretending to watch the late night drivel on television and flicking through an old tattered copy of FHM.

While I was pouring myself one last can -- there was no point pouring one for Rob because he needed both hands to keep the phone working -- I glanced over at him and saw that his boxer briefs were once again bulging outwards with the thick rod of his erection. Just speaking with his girlfriend was enough to get him horny; perhaps if I'd have gone as long without sex, even the self-administered kind, I'd be similarly so easily aroused.

Rob saw me glancing over at the front of his underwear and laughed, half-apologetically, "Forgive the stiffie, mate, but she's talking dirty to me!"

I laughed back, "I wouldn't worry -- you've been pretty much poking my eye out with it for three days..."

Rob chuckled and then said to Ashlene, "Seb can't complain about me having hard-ons -- not when I have to listen to him jerking his off half the night."

I smiled, though was a little surprised that he would mention that to a girl I hadn't even met yet.

He listened to her reply and chuckled, "If you keep talking like that, I might have to do something with my own..."

She said something else and he replied, "Really? Well, it's a pity I haven't any free hands..."

Another pause while he listened to Ashlene and then he whispered over to me with a mischievous smirk, "She says she's gonna act as my hand... she likes listening to me getting off on what she's saying."

I grinned and nodded.

He said to Ashelene, "So describe what you're gonna do to me..."

Another pause, then, "Yeah... I like the sound of that... go on..."

His cock throbbed demandingly inside his tightly-fitting underwear. A small wet patch was forming where the clearly-defined swollen head was pressing into the material.

Ashlene must have mentioned her discomfort about me being in the room but Rob disregarded my presence as a non-issue: "Seb's cool... come on, I wanna hear more..."

She continued talking to him and he grinned broadly. "That's right... yeah... slow, how I like it..."

I had a sudden idea which I knew could turn unpleasant if Rob took it the wrong way but I thought was well worth the risk.

I walked over to my bed where Rob was sitting, one hand firmly holding the faulty plug and the other the broken battery case. I placed my hand gently on the thick mound his cock was making in his boxer briefs and rubbed my fingers slowly up and down his six or seven inch length.

Rob had been so immersed in hearing what Ashlene was saying to him that he hadn't seen me approach. He jumped back at my touch and looked shocked that I was stroking his cock through his underwear.

I whispered, "Just keep talking to her, mate... I'll do the rest..."

His mouth formed a small, hesitant smile and then he said to Ashlene, "Sorry -- no, it was just Seb heading off for a shower. We're all alone now..."

She said something to him and he giggled, "Yeah... that'd be good..."

I kept slowly rubbing his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs, enjoying the sensation of its hard stem throbbing against my fingers.

He said, directing the instruction at her but grinning at me, "That's right... nice and slow at first... squeeze the head of it..."

I used my thumb and forefinger to squeeze the fattened head of Rob's cock, using the rest of my fingers to continue rubbing his shaft and quickening the pace a little as I saw he was enjoying what I was doing.

He said, his eyes closed, "That's good... yeah... that's nice..."

I saw the wet patch on his underwear was steadily growing as his slit oozed copious dribbles of precum.

Carefully I pushed the waistband of his boxer briefs down to withdraw his cock from them. Rob's eyes flashed open and he looked uncertain about whether he wanted me to continue. I smiled and whispered, "Relax, mate..."

I continued to hitch his underwear down and he helped me by raising his arse off the bed enough for me to tuck the waistband underneath his large, hairy balls.

Although I'd seen Rob's cock in its limp state many times over the years, his erection looked larger and much thicker than I had imagined it would. The helmet-shaped head of it was a dark, angry red colour and it glistened with the stickiness of his precum. The shaft of it was coursed with veins and swathed in a thick bush of dark pubic hair.

He muttered to Ashlene, "Yeah... now you can pull it out... wank it properly..."

I wrapped my fingers around his stem and gently gripped his foreskin to ease it back and forth across his large, inflamed cock head. Beads of precum oozed from his piss slit and were smeared across the taut, shiny skin of his helmet by the sweeping back and forth of his tight foreskin.

His girlfriend said something to him which made him giggle again. He glanced down at my hand gently massaging the length of his cock and then mouthed over to me, his mouth a broad grin, "You sick fuck!"

My own cock was by now rock hard inside my white briefs: at nearly eight inches, it's difficult to conceal when I'm aroused, but Rob was so focussed on what his girlfriend was saying to him on the phone that I don't think he noticed how excited I'd become.

He muttered, "Go a bit faster..."

I began wanking him more quickly and he groaned his approval. His cock throbbed in my hand, the veined stem swelling to become even harder and the ripened head fattening so that it was difficult to get his foreskin across its bloated rim.

Rob's erection had a sharp, musky aroma: a far more powerfully sexual smell than my own cock produces when I'm aroused. I enjoyed inhaling its acrid, masculine odour; the enticing combination of his strongly-scented pheromones along with sweat from his balls and precum from his weeping slit.

He continued listening to whatever Ashlene was saying to him, grunting his approval while enjoying the sensation of my hand wanking him at a steadily quickening pace. I noticed his eyes were tightly closed; he was obviously imagining that my hand belonged to his girlfriend and that she was masturbating him in the way she was describing.

He muttered, a little breathlessly, "You wanna play with my arse?"

At first I thought he'd directed that at me, but then he went on, clearly talking to Ashlene, "You know how much I love it..."

Marvelling at how liberated Ashlene must be (my own girlfriends have usually recoiled at the suggestion of involving my arse in sex), I grabbed his boxer briefs just below his hips and pulled them down his legs. Before I threw them onto the floor, I noticed how the front of them had been stretched and distended from his almost constant erections during the day.

Without opening his eyes, he muttered, "Go on... press your finger against my hole..."

I eased his legs apart, my hand continuing to wank his cock, and groped beneath his balls into the thick forest of hot damp pubic hair between his thighs.

He sighed, presumably both to me and Ashlene, "Keep going... that's good..."

I pressed my finger between his arse cheeks, searching for his hole. After a little groping I found it, a hot puckered ring nestling between his two hard muscular buttocks. Its stickiness made it obvious that Rob hadn't wiped himself too thoroughly earlier in the day (in fairness, he hadn't exactly expected that I'd be touching him down there), but I didn't really care: the pungeant whiff from his arsehole combined with the powerful sexual scent from his cock and balls was, strangely, extremely exciting.

He began panting and urged me -- and Ashlene -- to finger him.

Still wanking his massively engorged cock, I eased a finger into his slick anus and he gasped. My finger glided into him effortlessly, sliding in right up to the knuckle. I was aware of what was lubricating my entry and was surprised at how turned on the sensation of it was making me feel: here was Rob's most intimate hole gripping my finger with a hot slimy wetness and the feel of it was, bizarrely, causing sweat to trickle down my forehead and my own cock to throb painfully inside my restrictive briefs.

I began sliding my finger in and out of him, relishing the stronger smell from my finger as it withdrew from his moist ring, and Rob panted and grunted with enjoyment.

He muttered, "Lick my balls... the way I like it..."

I looked up at his face and saw that his eyes were tightly closed. He was so immersed in his fantasy that he was probably no longer aware that I was in the room. The person with him, in his mind, was Ashlene: all his qualms and reservations had evaporated in the heat of the moment.

I pressed my face down to his crotch, overwhelmed the thick, cloying odour of the sweat he was copiously producing, and licked my tongue across his large hairy balls. The taste was intoxicating: crudely sexual and powerfully male. I eagerly wanted more and swept my tongue around both his plum-sized testicles, his pubic hair choking inside my mouth.

He groaned his appreciation and then gasped, "Suck me... suck my cock..."

Still fingering his moist arse, I readily obliged. I went down on his thick, throbbing manhood impatiently, trying to get as much of his shaft into me as I could while sucking furiously at the swollen, bulbous head with every stroke. My free hand found its way to my own cock and released it, hard and straining, from my briefs. I began wanking myself furiously, grateful that I was finally able to release some of the pent-up excitement I'd been feeling.

Rob was panting like a dog, gasping with pleasure at the way I was hungrily devouring his cock. His bell-end throbbed, threatening to erupt with every stroke I made, and salty-tasting precum wept from its slit onto my eager tongue.

He grunted, "I really wanna fuck you... I wanna fuck you so hard..."

Without considering the implications, I withdrew my mouth from his cock, eased my finger out of his arse and climbed onto the bed in front of him. Straddling him and squatting over his crotch, I yanked the back of my briefs down enough to expose my arsehole and grabbed his cock with my hand. I plunged my arse down onto it and, despite being initially quite painful, I was quickly able to accommodate the thickness of his erection inside me.

I began bobbing up and down, squeezing his cock by tightening my ring as I did so, and he thrust his hips upwards to meet me with every stroke. The smell from my own arse, different from his but similarly pungeant and undeniably anal, pervaded the air as Rob's demanding cock thrust urgently in and out of my bowels.

I grabbed my own cock and wanked it as quickly as Rob was fucking me. We were both grunting like animals; the sweat pouring from us.

Just before he climaxed, he opened his eyes and looked with alarm at my cock which was right in front of his face. It was like he'd forgotten he was with another man, having been so caught up in the fantasy he was having with Ashlene.

My cock, engorged with excitement to its full eight inches and being rapidly pumped to even further hardness by my fist, made the truth inescapable.

Nevertheless, his orgasm was already inevitable. Still staring at my cock, with its puckered slit peering back at him like an eye, his balls emptied themselves and three days worth of pent-up semen squirted up into my innards.

The sensation of his climax, his cock squirting geysers of cum while still sliding sloppily in and out of me, prompted my own balls to release their load. I shot strings of my seed across his face and chest, my orgasm less copious than his but equally powerful. He closed his eyes again as my semen splattered over him while his own trickled out of my anus. His cock, its rhythm gradually subsiding, made lewd squelching noises as it continued to enter and withdraw from my bowels.

I pulled away from him as he was recovering his breath, still staring at me with a vacant, stunned expression which would have been quite funny in a different situation.

A puzzled voice over the phone brought him back to his senses.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he muttered, his voice sounding gravelly. "Yeah, I guess I kind of shot my wad..."

He listened to whatever it was Ashlene said and then replied, "Yeah, sorry... look, I'm gonna have to go. Clean up and stuff before Seb comes back in..."

He hung up on her and then glared venomously at me. "I can't believe what you just fucking did," he snarled.

"I only did what you were asking me to, mate."

Swinging his legs around to get off the bed, he snapped, "I thought I was asking Ashlene to do it, as well you know. You had no right."

"You didn't try and stop me. I thought I was helping you out, doing you a favour."

"I was fucking half-pissed. I didn't know what I was doing..."

He reached for his boxer briefs to wipe himself with and then scowled with a grimace, "Jesus, I've got your shit on the end of my dick..."

I didn't like him saying that -- I thought it was over-stepping the boundaries -- so I snapped back, "Yeah, and I've got yours on my finger. So I guess we're quits, huh?"

He stood up and sneered nastily. "Quits? No fucking way. Not by a long fucking stretch..."

He started grabbing up his stuff, still without any underwear on, and shoving it into his rucksack.

"You're not leaving, Rob? Surely you can stay one more night...?"

"Not after that," he grunted.

"Come on, mate." I grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry if I went too far. I thought you were asking me to do all that to you. If you weren't, then I'm genuinely sorry..."

He hesitated and I added, "I don't want to lose you as a friend, Rob... really..."

He looked into my eyes and suddenly it seemed as if he was about to burst in to tears.

He said, his voice wavering, "I just... I never wanted to betray any girl. Not ever... not like my dad used to with my mum..."

"You didn't betray anyone. You were thinking of her... you were with her, kind of. Isn't that what's important?"

Rob's face softened and his eyes lost a little of their coldness. "Maybe... I guess I was imagining Ashlene... I just didn't think you'd go so far..."

I looked into his eyes. "I'm really sorry."

And he nodded and put his rucksack down.

After he had calmed down, cleaned himself up and pulled on a clean pair of briefs, I poured him another can. He asked me why I had gone as far as had.

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I just sort of got caught up in things. It felt wrong but that kind of made it hot, if you know what I mean."

"Are you into guys as well as girls, then?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. I just enjoyed what we were doing. I'm not saying I'd want to repeat it anytime soon."

He pondered what I'd said, sipping slowly from his can.

I went on, "Look, mate, I thought you knew what I was doing and that you were going along with it. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gone so far."

He stared into his drink and said, "I just sort of drifted off. It was like I was half-asleep or something, imagining I was with Ashlene. In the back of my mind I knew it was you doing stuff to me and that it felt good but I didn't realise how far you were taking it... well, not until I opened my eyes and saw my cock halfway up your arse and your cum squirting into my face."

I gulped. "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that."

He allowed himself a half-smile.

After a few moments, I ventured, "We're still gonna be mates, Robert Thompson?"

He smiled and nodded. "I reckon so, Sebastian Wallace. But I never want to talk about this -- or even mention it -- ever again, okay? It didn't happen..."

I nodded. "Yeah, whatever."

After he'd called Ashlene and made his peace with her and we were getting the bedsit back into some state of order, he asked, "Which bit did you like doing most, Seb?"

"I thought we weren't going to talk about it."

He smirked. "Just this once."

"Okay," I nodded. "Probably fingering your arse. It's not something I've ever even thought about doing with anyone and it was kind of... well... interesting..."

He smiled.

"Which bit did you like most?" I asked him.

He considered the question for a few seconds and then said, "Bizarrely, the bit where I was imagining fucking Ashlene and having her riding me and then opening my eyes and... I dunno... having your cock there right in front of me and realising I was actually fucking a guy's arse. It was surreal but, just for a few seconds, really fucking hot!"

He looked down guiltily, perhaps feeling he'd said a little too much.

After he'd brushed his teeth and stuff, he lay down on my couch and I threw my spare duvet over him.

Arranging it over himself, he said, "So not another word about it, okay?"

"Absolutely."

And we've never mentioned it again.

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Thanks to daveunc2000@yahoo.com for inspiring this story

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