The “official” version of events, as reported by PC Andrew Belling…

Incident report – PC Andrew Belling – 3^rd June 2024

On the evening of 3^rd June 2024 at approximately 21:00, PC David Kennedy and myself were called out to a disturbance at Number 125 Tugmore Terrace. The next-door neighbour, Lynette Morgan at Number 127, called 999 having heard the sound of raised voices and then an altercation taking place. She informed the operator that this was not an isolated incident, and she referred to her neighbour as a “drug-dealing scally.”

The resident at 125 is one Kelvin Brown. Prior convictions for theft, aggravated assault, and possession of Class A Substances with intent to supply. Kelvin is six foot two, has a shaven head, blue eyes, athletic build, and has a distinctive tattoo of a dragon that spirals around his neck and down his back. When we arrived at his home, we rang the doorbell and Kelvin answered almost immediately. He was dressed in a loose-fitting white tank top and black shorts with white socks and sliders. We were immediately hit by the smell of marijuana, which Kelvin did not seem particularly fazed by. I informed Kelvin that we had been called out due to a disturbance, to which he responded with a laugh and invited us in.

I entered before PC Kennedy, and we found Kelvin’s living room in a state of disarray. There was a smashed glass coffee table, the couch cushions were on the floor, and there were items of underwear scattered about the room. His curtains were closed. The room had a strong smell of marijuana and amyl nitrate. We questioned Kelvin about what had gone on and he told us he’d had a couple of friends over and things had got out of hand. I inquired about the presence of marijuana and he told me his friend had brought a joint with him but it was not Kelvin’s. I asked where this friend was and he responded that both friends had left about five minutes ago.

PC Kennedy asked Kelvin why the room was in such a state – and what had caused the noise that alerted the neighbours. Kelvin replied it had just been some fun that had got out of hand. I asked if anyone had been hurt, to which Kelvin replied, “Maybe a bit, but that’s what they came here for.” When I enquired further, Kelvin told us his neighbour was a “nosy bitch” and had no idea what she was talking about. He said she’d blown this out of proportion and got it completely wrong. When pushed further, Kelvin seemed agitated and informed us that he would much rather show us what had happened than tell us.

Kelvin took out his phone, connected it to his TV, and a video began to play. On the video, we could see Kelvin and two other males. One was a stocky man of Asian descent, with a beard, wearing a black tracksuit. The other was a short, slim, ginger male who was completely naked. Kelvin was squatting over the ginger man in his shorts and rubbing his crotch and anus up and down his face. The Asian male had his foot between the ginger male’s legs and was using it to abuse the man’s genitals.

Kelvin told us the ‘little ginger fucker’ liked to pay for this kind of treatment. He liked to be what Kelvin described as “dommed by two proper bad lads.” He skipped through the video to show us different moments of their ‘session’. Kelvin spitting in the ginger male’s mouth. The Asian male slapping the ginger male across the face. Then we saw Kelvin sodomising the ginger male over the coffee table as the Asian male forced the ginger male to perform oral sex acts on his penis and anus. They also scooped up used underwear and appeared to force the ginger male to sniff it. As they both sodomized the ginger male the coffee table cracked and they pulled him clear of the glass before it fell through on to the floor. Kelvin told us he wouldn’t get repeat customers if he “sliced and diced them with his dodgy table.”

We informed Kelvin that it was an offence to solicit for sex work, to which Kelvin responded telling us it was all a game between friends. It was up to them what they did with their money. We also told him to try and keep the noise down to avoid further complaints, to which Kelvin replied that his neighbour was often homophobic and this was just her way of spoiling his fun because she was, and I quote, “a jealous, dried-up old raisin.”

We performed a search of the home and found no evidence of drugs for consumption or dealing. We left the property without any further incident at 22:00. We were there for a full hour because our search was so thorough. PC Kennedy informed me at 23:05 that his truncheon was missing so we had to return to 125 Tugmore Terrace. Kelvin was only too happy to return the truncheon which he’d found in one of the bedrooms. PC Kennedy has explained that his holster was torn and the truncheon has fallen out on a few occasions before tonight. We are both satisfied that this was the case at 125 Tugmore Terrace.

End of report

Text message from Kelvin Brown to ‘Asian Boss’ – 4^th June 2024

Mate you are not gonna believe what happened after you guys left last night. Two coppers ended up round my place. And things got fucking filthy…

The real story coming soon for paid subscribers. You don’t want to miss it…

“What an absolute prick.”

That was my response when I found out the idiot next door had turned his house into an Airbnb. It’s hardly a surprise. He’s always been an obnoxious bell end, no thought for his neighbours whatsoever. He’s rented it out to some wronguns in the past. But two weeks ago we had the pleasure of a hen party staying on the other side of our bedroom wall so you can imagine the horrors. Braying gaggles of women screeching along to Little Mix, falling down stairs, smashing crockery and partying until five in the morning. I’m all for people having a ball but not on the other side of my bedroom wall!

I know I sound ancient but I’m not! I’m twenty seven, I work for a recruitment agency. I’ve been called handsome – dark hair, green eyes, roman nose, square jaw, and at the moment I’m living at home with my folks. They’re pretty sociable and go out more than I do! In fact they’re always saying “Andrew you need to get back on the horse!”

What can I say? I’ve gone off horses.

I broke up with Adam about six months ago and I’ve spent the last couple of months just looking after myself. Gym, eating right, early nights, avoiding alcohol, the apps. Yes I’ve turned into a priest but it’s done wonders for my mental health. OK maybe I wank too much, but it’s a lot less emotionally draining than trying to get back on the dating scene. I realise my case for not being a boring old fart is diminishing by the letter. So yes I admit, I do like my home life to be chill. But it’s my little safe space! Who needs to put up with the drama of never knowing what utter dickheads are gonna be staying in the house next door?

Last weekend my folks were away overnight. They were going to some resort in the Lakes with their best mates Tommy and Claire. I’ve spent the last month ribbing them that they’re actually swingers and it’s going to be a non-stop orgy the whole time they’re there. The irony…

I was settling down for an exciting Saturday night binge-watching Elite on Netflix. Yeah pretty Spanish boys making out and crying are my sweet spot. Arrest me! I was feasting my eyes on yet another set of rock hard abs when a car pulled up outside the house with music absolutely booming out of it. The bass was making the floor rattle! I had to see where the noise was coming from so went to the window and peered out, only to find a group of guys getting out of a Land Rover. They were laden with bags of booze, already hammered, screaming, jeering, play-fighting. And they were headed straight for the fucking AirBnB next door… My heart sank. I was in for a bastard of a night! But then something distracted me.

Of the four guys, the two who got out of the car last were being pretty handsy with each other. One was stocky, hairy, with a grizzly beard and a big chunky ass in shorts. The other was slimmer, blonde, younger in his twenties, in tight jeans. And the grizzly guy had his hands all over his tight butt. The two who were walking up front, one mixed race, handsome, athletic with a shaven head, the other nondescript and slight with a backwards cap on, called to them and laughter erupted as they opened the front door and headed inside, groping each other as they went…

“Not your average stag do…” I murmured to myself.

Luckily the living room in our house is separated from next door by a pretty big hallway so I closed the door, cranked up my TV and got to ignore their noise for the most part. I ordered Deliveroo, I got a semi on watching Elite, I had a wank to some Blue Sky vids and took myself to bed. My usual nightly routine!

But then around three in the morning, a pounding on my bedroom wall woke me up! I sat bolt upright from an anxiety dream involving me driving a bus with no handbrake, to hear the slamming against the wall over and over again. There was throbbing house music accompanying it which just riled me even more. There was no chance I was putting up with this. I pounded my fist against the wall in response and my blood pressure soared when they banged right back in the same rhythm!

“Cheeky fuckers!”

I jumped out of bed in my boxers, threw on a t-shirt and stormed out and down the stairs. They were gonna get it both barrels. Stepping out into the chilly night, I looked down and realised I hadn’t put trousers on. I was just in my grey boxers which were kinda snug around my hung cock and full balls. But at that point I didn’t give a shit. I stepped over the wall to their front door and hammered on it. The sound of their partying could be heard in the street so it was no surprise they didn’t hear me banging on the door. I absent-mindedly tried the doorhandle and was surprised when the front door opened in front of me.

Could I really go in? Did that make me crazy? Cheeky? Vulnerable to a bunch of lads who might be off their faces and aggressive to a strange guy coming storming into their party? I peered down the beige, neutral, frankly boring hallway and was about to turn on my heels when I saw him.

The handsome mixed race guy I’d seen earlier came out of one of the rooms wearing nothing but a jockstrap, carrying a bottle of Grey Goose in hand. His fit sculpted body glistened with sweat and his ass was like brown brick, hard and tight as he started to climb the stairs in front of me. He didn’t give me a second glance as he went – clearly on a mission. I should have turned and left there and then but something was drawing me into the house. That something was slowly growing between my legs…

Edging inside the house, I closed the door behind me. I gave it a good hard slam so they could hear it – and I couldn’t be accused of creeping up on anyone!

“Hello?” I yelled.

But nothing changed. The party continued upstairs. Fuck it, I thought. In for a penny. The lure of that brown ass was too much for my deprived cock. I padded forward, peering into the living room and kitchen as I headed for the stairs. Both rooms were a mess of discarded drink, food and clothes… but there were no people. So I started up the stairs.

“Hello?” I called again. “I live next door. You’re a bunch of ignorant cunts!”

But there was still no response. As I got higher the music got louder… and it wasn’t the only noise on display. I picked up on moaning. Grunting. Slapping. The combination of that sound and the sight of jock man with his beautiful ass out for all to see painted one image in my head. There was loud, animalistic fucking going on in here. And having been dragged out of my slumber by these bastards I had no intention of leaving without at least getting an eyeful of the action.

Straight ahead of me was the smallest room, where clothes had been dumped. I moved to the left and to the first of two other larger rooms, and the door was wide open for me to enjoy the show. And what a show! Under a bald lightbulb there was an intense threesome happening.

The tight blond was face down on the bed in a rubber singlet, open at the back where his sweaty pale ass was being railed by the nondescript guy in the cap – STILL in the cap. He was squatting behind the blond to fuck him deep, and underneath both of them lay the beardy bear, suckling on the top’s balls as he banged the bottom.

“Okay who ordered take-out?”

I turned in shock to see the tall mixed race guy stood there in his jock, a joint in one hand and the vodka in the other. The fucking stopped. They turned and looked at me in a mixture of drunken surprise and amusement.

“Who the fuck are you?” Cap man said.

“I… I live next door. I…”

“You just wanted to join the party?” laughed the piggy bear, his face still in line with a big fat cock that had slopped out of the hole above him to feed him some pig juice from his boyfriend’s ass.

“Looks that way to me,” said the bottom, eyeing my bulging wet prick.

Jock man stepped up closer to me until I could feel the heat of his hot sweaty rippling body on the back of my neck. He reached around with the bottle of vodka and held it in front of me. The air smelled of weed, booze and the unmistakable scent of pure man sex. The smell of the vodka from the bottle made me a little light-headed, so I pushed it away and turned around to face him, my heart racing.

“I don’t drink.”

“420?” He handed me the joint and in what felt like a moment of madness I put it to my lips, took a drag and my head went into the clouds. Before I knew it I’d flopped back on the bed and he was on his knees, peeling down my boxers as the fucking recommenced beside me. The bottom boy leaned over and I felt the heat of his breath, the wet brush of his lips as he started to kiss me, messy, sloppy, passionate. I felt jock man guy push my legs apart and slide in, taking my fat uncut cock in his hand. He eased back my foreskin, leaned in and sniffed my bell end, groaning before swirling his tongue around my sensitive skin. He started to suck my cock hungrily whilst the bottom spat in my mouth. I reached underneath his stomach to grip his hard cock as he got pounded from behind by cap man.

I couldn’t believe I’d only been here two minutes and was embroiled in a sleazy piggy group session. Before I knew it my legs were being hoisted in the air. The bottom grabbed them behind the knees and folded me all the way back so jock man could slide down my gooch and start to eat my ass. He prised my hole open and went in deep, and whilst I was lost in the pleasure, my eyes closed, a second tongue started to dive into my hole. I opened them to see the piggy bear guy was now beside jock man, on his knees, sharing the flavours of my middle-of-the-night hole. They tongued me out, kissing with my ass stink on their faces, before jock man slipped a finger inside my tight chute and found my prostate. The piggy bear leaned forward and started to lick my hole around the invading digit, before pulling the finger out and sucking my ass juice off before inserting his own.

“Holy fuck,” I laughed, my tool dripping all over my abs as they took turns playing dip and lick with my juicy hole.

The bottom moved down to start slurping on my hard tool as he continued to take a good railing from the top. Cap man slapped the pale clammy ass as he nailed it, sweat dripping from his forehead and nose on to his fuckboy’s back. Caught up in the thrusts, I grabbed the bottom’s head and started to push my pole deep into his throat, the two tongues worshipping my ass driving me into a frenzy. I pounded his throat in unison with the top, who leaned over and snogged me hard as he drove that cock so deep, as if he wanted our bell ends to meet in the middle and touch.

The joint was passed around, as was the vodka, as things got messier.

“Come and sit on my face,” I groaned to the hottie in the jock.

He got up off his knees having worshipped my cunt for a good twenty minutes, and climbed up on the bed, holding on to the pounding top for support. They kissed as he placed one foot on either side of my head. I looked up at the hot sweaty caramel jocked ass above me and licked my lips as he started to squat. The lower he got, the wider his cheeks spread to reveal a smooth glistening hole.

I could smell it before I could taste it. The hot scent of a horny cunt who’s been partying all night. I used to eat my man’s ass after the club, I’d get his trousers down and bend him over and tuck right in. The smell of jock man took me back – but only in the best way. Any kind of dark or miserable regretful thoughts were being held firmly at the door as a winking pink hole spread open like a flower right above my face. I dug my tongue in deep, hearing him groan as I suckled and slurped on his most private spot. I reached up and unleashed his hot eight inch snake from his jock. It slapped on my chest with a squelch, oozing precum all over my rigid pink nipples. The bottom started to suck on me in earnest as cap man pulled his fat cock out of his ass and stood, letting jock man suck it clean.

These pigs were going all in. Not a drop of fluid was being wasted here. Precum oozed, sweat poured, and the air hang heavy with the stink of us. Jock man rode my face as he sucked the top’s dick clean of all the ass juice, meanwhile the piggy bear had clambered around to help himself to the bottom’s gaping cunt.

“Yeah get in deep, piggy!” he groaned between sucking jock man’s cock and my own hard member.

“Push it out!” he responded.

I heard the squelchy rip of air as the bottom splattered his man’s face with lube and butt juice but it just made him eat it all the more.

“Dirty bastards,” I laughed, so turned on by it, before going back to feasting on that juicy brown ass.

I thought eating his hole would drive me over the edge so it was a good job he pulled away, replacing his hole with his fat cock which slipped between my lips and right down my throat. He gripped my cock and took it back in his own mouth until we were both throat-fucking each other, the bottom boy now on his knees beside the bed sucking my balls and playing with my hole.

Piggy bear had rolled with a thud on to the floor, clearly overcome and highly stoned. He was laughing as the top in the cap got him on his knees and elbows and started to push that angry rigid cock into his hairy gaping hole. He was vocal as fuck, moaning loud into the floor as the top slammed all the way to the hilt and immediately picked up the pace to a hard piston fuck. I watched between thrusts of jock man’s cock as the piggy bear’s fat hairy ass got ruined, wobbling with each slam from the top’s merciless hips.

My hole yearned for that kind of action and my throat-fucker clearly picked up on my vibe, climbing off me and leaning down to snog me.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asked.

“Yeah. Fuck me hard.”

“Get on the floor facing Benny.”

“Who?” I asked.

“My piggy husband,” the bottom laughed before moving to start kissing Benny as he took slam after slam of that hot top’s cock.

I knelt down on the ground, opposite Benny, laughing to myself as I thought… I’ve jumped straight into a gangbang with these guys and I only know one of their names! It just made my cock harder, realising that maybe this was what I needed to get me out of my dry spell. I’d been tipped from a desert into a waterfall. A sweaty, sleazy, sticky waterfall that was going to keep flowing.

Benny handed me some poppers and I took a good long hit as jock man lined his massive brown log up with my tight wet anus. My head went west and Benny held me up, kissing me as he was brutally fucked. I felt my anal walls give way to the brown beast that snaked its way deep inside my cunt and up past my prostate. I gasped as he hit the spot, making my balls churn out their batter for a very hungry bottom boy who was busy cleaning up any spillages made by our cocks or asses.

My cock poured and my ass gaped around his tool as I started to bounce back, matching his thrust with my bubble butt.

“Yes boy!” he sneered, smacking my ass. “Take it. Fucking take it.”

“Look me in the eyes,” Benny groaned.

We were nose to nose, kissing, eyes on each other as we both took the cocks like pro’s, Benny’s fat ass making obscene smacking sounds that echoed around the room. The bottom slid underneath me to suck jock man’s cock as it pounded my guts, and his rigid knob stuck up between Benny and I. The only thing for it was for us both to swoop down and take that dick between our hungry mouths. Our tongues wrestled around bottom boy’s oozing prick as cap man banged Benny and jock man banged me, groaning as the bottom tongued his juicy shaft and balls, slurping as much of my ass juice as he could.

“This ass is so tight!” jock man grunted. “Gonna make me bust my nut.”

“Fuck yes,” I hissed. “Fill me up!”

“Me too!” cap man groaned. “Need to breed!”

“Fuuuuck,” moaned the bottom. “You’re getting me close lads!”

Benny and I picked up our pace, sucking and wanking the bottom between our mouths as our mutual tops railed us harder, both their fat steam trains about to hit their final destination. Jock man gripped my hips and pulled me right back so his head was as deep in my guts as it could get as it started to pump its load out. He cried out loud, and the hot spurts gurgled inside me as he filled me up. It sent me past my limit as my own dick emptied out into the bottom’s waiting mouth, his sweet tongue making my whole body shake as he suckled my honey down. Then as jock man pulled out, Benny made me turn around so my ass was in his face.

He sucked hard on my hole, making my guts evacuate the cream they’d been battered with, and he shared it from his beard to the bottom – a happy couple pigging out together which made them both cum in unison. As their dicks erupted, cap man pulled out of Benny and stood, wanking the last of his massive erection and exploding all over the four of us, tongues darting out to catch his seed, the room filling with loud groans of piggy ecstasy.

As we started to come down from the buzz, I looked around at the four strangers in shock. It was like they’d cast a spell on me the minute I walked through that door. Something had pulled me up those stairs and into the middle of the filthiest gangbang I’d ever had. It was like I’d just unleashed a part of myself I’d kept dormant for a very long time. Maybe forever.

“So who are you again?” jock man laughed.

“I… sorry I live next door. I was coming to say keep the noise down!”

Cap man scoffed, then his giggle rippled through the rest of the group until the room was filled with laughter.

“Well you know what they say about noisy parties, mate,” Benny said, pulling me in. “If you can’t lick ‘em…”

And he leaned in to snog me, his beard full of spunk and ass juice. I fell into the kiss as the others pulled in around us and it became a heaving sweaty mass of roving, searching tongues. The body heat was intoxicating. I was getting hard again. And I wasn’t the only one…

Needless to say when mum and dad got home from their swinging holiday they asked me if anything interesting happened while I was gone. I told them absolutely nothing had taken place… but as I took to my bedroom and was still feeling spunk loads bubble out of my poor ruined hole, I was glad I’d got all four lads’ numbers. Their next big night out is in Newcastle next month. I’ve already booked my train ticket!

Some hook-ups are pure filth. Like you just made the hottest porno fantasy come true in your lounge.

Then others can be like a blooper real, where what was extremely hot is suddenly very funny and kinda cute. Well, Big Baz embodied both for me!

I met him on an app. Not Grindr. But a more UK-centric one aimed at swingers and straight people. One of my biggest kinks is married men. Something really gets my juices flowing when I know a guy has just come from his happy home with his wife and family to then walk into my house with a dripping boner and live out his dirtiest fantasy with me. So a swingers site is perfect. Well… for the most part. It still has its share of time wasters like all the other apps.

Big Baz was someone who had hovered for a while. I could see he’d checked out my profile many times but stated clearly on his own profile that he had no interest in men.

And yet he kept looking.

My profile comes with close-up shots of me sucking cock, drowning in jizz, eating ass. And the title says “I’ll lick you where she won’t.” So I set my stall out well and the right kind of guys pick up on it. One day when I was particularly horny and I’d seen him check me out for the third or fourth time, I bit the bullet. I sent him a message, telling him how I was extremely discreet and most the guys I meet are straight and married. So if he wanted to come and sample my services he didn’t have to worry about discretion. No drama here. He was tentative at first, telling me he wasn’t interested but thanking me. Manners! Always a good sign.

Then a few days later he was ‘liking’ my photographs. So I sent him a cheeky ‘wink’ and then he was asking me where I lived. Did I live alone? Was my house discreet? I told him I live on a normal street but it’s quiet during the day. He could let himself in and find me kneeling in my dark room. He told me he was a tradie, house renovations etc. I’ve got a thing for working men. The smell, the taste, the attitude. That coupled with pictures of him looking buff, shirtless, gym-fit with dirty blond chest hair, then his cock which had to be at least eight inches, was like a red rag to a bull. Then he said the magic words:

“So you eat ass? My girlfriend won’t do it.”

Do I eat ass indeed! I told him I would show him what it’s like to have his bumhole properly worshipped as long as he feeds me a tasty load. He responded with, “I’m hard now.”

Perfect. It turned out he was working on a house a mile away from me. So I dropped him my address, unlocked the front door and tried not to jerk off and cum there and then at the idea of Big Baz coming round to get his hole tongued out. When he showed up I heard him come through the front door, drop his car keys on the hallway cabinet, and start to undress. I’d instructed him to leave his underwear on because that’s part of the fun for me.

The door opened. In he came to my darkened room lit only by slutty red light. Silhouetted against the shaft of daylight coming in from the hallway I saw his frame. Tall, broad-shouldered, manly as fuck, in supermarket brand black boxers. Perfect. There was a mumble of awkward small talk until I told him to get on the sofa with his face down and his ass well and truly UP.

He chuckled slightly, clearly nervous. His breath was shallow and fast. He assumed the position, but like most straight guys I meet he was kind of awkward. He didn’t arch his back properly until I reached over and gently guided him to do it. Back arched, butt sticking out. And what a butt. Wanna see it?

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As promised, my paying subscribers get a little look behind the curtain at the true stories that inspire my writing. I’m lucky to have had some absolutely filthy meets that have made me want to create my stories with a safe distance from my actual real life. But it’s time to open myself up - sometimes literally - and dish the dirt on what I get up to. And boy is it dirty. This story comes with photos.

Ryan was a Grindr meet. I’d spent all day working from home whilst my partner was away in Manchester. We’ve got an arrangement: If he’s away, I can play. And after a day of dull work Zooms I was horned up and ready to do what I do best. So let me tell you what I do best.

I eat ass.

And I don’t just eat it. I devour it. I make love to it with my tongue until my tongue gives up and I can’t go anymore. I love the taste. I love the smell. I love how every hole is different. The contours, the textures, the shape, how it opens, how it stays shut, I love it. I advertised on Grindr that I have a new rimseat and it wasn’t long before I had some interest. A lot of the messages were from people I wasn’t into, but one came through from Ryan.

Late 20s, blond, gym-fit, short, and lots of ‘devil’ emojis on his profile. He said he was at work in one of the major hospitals in my city and had had a long day and needed to unwind. For him, the idea of sitting on a rimseat and having his hole worshipped was perfect. He said he wanted to dom me a little. Have me on my knees to give him a tongue bath after a long day. I gave him my limits - no real pain and no scat. He was happy with that, assuring me he’d built up a day’s worth of sweat down below but there was nothing beyond that. Sometimes you have to trust a guy. Hell, inviting a stranger to your home is a huge show of trust already.

He said he’d be with me in half an hour, so I set about organising my ‘dark room’. I convert my lounge simply by switching off all the lights, closing the curtains, and turning on a little red lamp in the corner that casts a seedy glow that’s just enough to see what and who you’re doing. I set up the rimseat at the centre of the room with a cushion underneath it. The cushion is for two things - my comfort of course, but also, it gets me even closer to the hole because trust me, I like to go deep. Ryan would soon find out just how deep. I gave him the address, told him the front door would be unlocked, and had a quick shower.

Hearing his car outside, I got on my knees and waited. Nothing makes my heart race like kneeling in that red light, hearing the door open, the footsteps in the hall, wondering who will walk through my lounge door and what they’ll do to me. Ryan did not disappoint…

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Okay so today didn’t go the way I’d planned. We got the new dishwasher installed – yes, I know you’ve been on the edge of your seat wondering about that! But as anyone who read my last little confession will know, I’d kind of got used to doing the dishes manually. It has its perks, and I’m not just talking about silky soft hands!

For anyone who missed it, I entered into a voyeuristic, pervy situation with the 18 year old neighbour who lives in the next street. Our kitchen window looks across to theirs and it only took one look at him with his perfect smooth abs on show for a whole new side of my sexuality to be unlocked. The ‘older guy lusting after twinks’ side! Not only that, it put the spring back in my sex life with my husband Carl, and we gave Sonny Boy across the road quite the show whilst he jerked his fleshy thick cock and spurted his load all over the dishes.

So yesterday, the time came to load up the new dishwasher. I’d genuinely considered breaking it again on purpose so I’d have to spend more time at the kitchen sink. But I knew Carl would guess what I was up to and he’d never let me live it down. So, after a rather splendid lasagne courtesy of my loving husband I went into the kitchen to do my domestic duties. My heart raced at the thought of seeing Sonny Boy in all his glory so I dawdled at the sink, slowly rinsing the dishes before racking them up.

On cue there he was. He’d had a haircut so his blond locks were shorter, smarter, giving him an almost Teutonic edge. It just made his chiselled jaw and full lips stand out even more. It crossed my mind that he’d got his hair cut to look smarter for his next window-date with me, but then I quickly laughed at myself for being so arrogant and out of touch with reality. He wore a vest, white against his tanned skin and growing guns, his chest heaving beneath the thin fabric so I could see those delicious looking nipples which by now I knew were super-sensitive.

Sonny Boy’s eyes met mine. The butterflies took flight in my stomach and I followed my impulse, holding my fingers to my mouth and licking them before rubbing them over my own nipples. I was telling him exactly what I wanted to do to him. He licked those luscious lips and traced his hand down to his crotch. I couldn’t see it from where I stood. So I gave an authoritative nod, looking down towards his stomach. He took the hint, slowly backing away to reveal black Calvins and nothing else. I could see his bulge from across our back yards. It was impressive, straining as he gently caressed it. Slowly he ran his hand over the waistband and then hiked them down to let that big beautiful cock bounce out. Even semi hard it looked humongous. I imagined the weight of it as it flopped out on to my face. The smell of his ripening love length full of teenage pheromones as I nuzzled my way under his blond hairy ball sack.

I was about to give him a similar show when suddenly he stopped, frozen. He tucked his tool away and stepped away from the window. I was confused for a moment until she came into view. Mizzo Mum. His mother, who I nicknamed so because she’s so miserable! Sour as ever, she came to the sink shouting in his direction and I realised – she’d caught him in the act. Her eyes suddenly flicked over in my direction and I did all I could think of and ducked down! I was crouching in my own kitchen, hidden by my sink unit, as some twink’s mother peered over to see if I’d been perving at her son!

“What the fuck are you doing now?”

The mocking tones of Carl as he came into the kitchen and saw me hunkering in a corner.

“Stay out of view!” I replied. “She can see!”

“Who?”

“His mum!”

“Fuck!”

Carl burst out laughing and ducked away from the window.

“He had his dick out!” I whispered. “She walked in on him wanking for me!”

“Why are you whispering?!” he giggled. “She can’t hear you!”

“Stop laughing!” I ordered. “This isn’t funny! She’ll think I’m an old perv!”

“You are an old perv!”

“I’m not… old!” I scolded him. “Is she gone?”

Carl sniggered as he edged his way back to the window and looked out. He nodded and reached for my hand, pulling me to my feet away from her beady eyes.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid!” I said. “Getting some young lad to-“

“Brian!” he snapped. “He’s not a fucking kid, it’s fine, chill. Come on, let me take your mind off it.”

He reached down and cupped my crotch. Even after the near miss with the mother from hell my hard on was still only just deflating. And he knew just how to breathe life back into it. We left the dishes to soak as he led me upstairs to our bedroom. The red velvet curtains were drawn and the light was soft as he threw me down flat on the bed. He quickly stepped out of his jeans and his white Oddballs briefs until his fleshy hairy arse was on show. He knew exactly what to do to make me feel better as he climbed up on the bed astride my chest and backed that ass on to my face. I parted the cheeks to rub my nose against his hirsute pucker and it instantly opened like a flower. The deepest taste and aroma of the man I married greeted me as I drove my tongue deep inside and felt him unleash my cock from its confines. In an instant his warm wet mouth was around me, tickling my bulbous head before engulfing me to the hilt. I felt his nose rest on my balls as he deep throated me like a pro.

My groans sent tremors into his cunt as I slurped on it, feeling his eight-incher growing until it was heavy on my chest. I reached around and stroked his wet end, feeling him pulse out some tasty blobs of pre to mingle with my chest hair. He lifted a leg so I could get a good grip on his prick and start to milk him as I feasted on his hole. Picking up the pace on my cock, he sucked and wanked, twisting his hand in a clockwise motion as his mouth went in the opposite direction. Nobody sucks like Carl. He’s a cum-seeking missile who always hits the target. Today my target would be the back of his throat. And likewise, he pushed his cock back to meet my mouth and before I knew it, all eight inches were sliding down my throat to make contact with my windpipe.

The more I gagged, the harder I got, and as we both went hell for leather craving each other’s sticky semen it wasn’t long before we met in the middle with a mutual orgasm. Both of us blew at the same time, torrents of our baby batter flooding each other’s gullets. The room filled with the scent of our balls as they erupted with pent up cream, his load frothing and spilling out around his cock, down from lips to the side of my face and into my hair. He gulped my jizz like the cum slut he is. He’s my good boy, even when I’m choking on his fat dong and puking his cum back up like a messy nasty pig.

Afterwards we lay in silence on the bed. Even after all these years together we still crave each other’s bodies – but also that quiet afterglow moment where it’s just us and the sounds of the street outside. He told me to stop worrying about Mizzo Mum and we settled in for a night in front of some seriously slow television about canal boats. Order was restored.

Until this morning…

So Carl had gone off to work but it was my day off from going into the shop. I’m currently running a games exchange store in the city centre – I do love a nerd and I spend most my working days surrounded by them! But today was my day for catching up on dull domestic things around the house and probably an hour spent working my cock to porn in the back room. I’d just hung up a load of fresh clean laundry – imagine, a long washing line across our spare room filled with our various jocks and undies – when there was a knock at the front door. I ditched a yellow jock and padded downstairs expecting it to be the delivery woman who leaves every neighbour’s parcel at my house for some reason. But when I opened the door I found myself stood face to face with… Mizzo Mum!

My stomach lurched. I went into a sweat. The woman who’d possibly caught me wanking off with her teenage son was stood on my doorstep. And she did not look happy.

“Hi, I live in the house that backs on to yours,” she said, stern.

“Er… yeah? I don’t know, love, I’ve never seen you,” I lied, my mouth going dry.

“Right well there’s an issue we need to sort out,” she replied.

This was it. I was about to be accused of being a dirty old letch. A pervert. A groomer! All those flash-words shot through my brain.

“Issue? I… I don’t know what…”

“Come on it’s obvious,” she replied with a frustrated laugh. “Don’t try to deny it!”

“Deny? What? I… look I know how it might look…”

“It looks awful!” she responded. “You need to take some responsibility.”

The cold sweat continued. I felt my knees go weak. The guilt was heavy and bleak as she came closer, about to deliver the final blow.

“It’s made a right mess of my back yard!” she snapped.

I stopped in my tracks. I hit rewind in my head, trying to work out if I’d heard the right or wrong thing. What had made a mess? Other than her 18 year old son when he blew his spooge all over her kitchen.

“Wh… what mess?” I stammered.

“From the weeds! The bloody tree that’s grown out of your back wall and over into mine!”

It took me a moment to compute. She wasn’t here to have a go at me for watching her lad jerk his cock. She was here to complain about weeds growing out of my back wall! I’d never given them much thought. They sprout all over the wall, but I have neglected that whole area since Spring. It’s on my to-do list somewhere further down the line from having the bathroom renovated and buying new smoke alarms!

Flooded with relief, I gushed my apologies and told her I’d get right on it. She almost cracked a smile in response. Almost. With her gone I was texting Carl to tell him about the encounter as I headed out back to see just how bad the weeds had got. Sure enough I found quite the tree of Buddleia, pretty and purple and a pain in the ass, towering high from my wall over into her back yard.

“Well fuck me, that is pretty bad!” I said out loud.

“Got shears here if you need them?”

A male voice. Deep, playful, melodic. I turned in surprise and there he was in the flesh. Sonny Boy! Stood in their back yard doorway, looking down at me with that smile, he was at least three inches taller. He wore a plain white t shirt and black shorts, his white socks nestled in a pair of sliders. I took the sight of him in whilst trying not to drool. Little did I know a little drool was going to be the least of my worries. As he nonchalantly scratched his balls in his flimsy black shorts, he watched me watch him. And I knew deep down where the cum was starting to stir that things were about to go to the next level…

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It was a fine sunny day. I know that sounds like the beginning of a fairytale but I can assure you this did happen. OK the reality was – it was too hot and I was sweating like a bastard. As a postie we dread the height of summer as much as a nasty wet winter. Walking for hours in the sun pushing a trolley that weighs a ton. They’d just moved me on to this area and I was finding my feet, knowing which houses had to be approached with caution due to a mental dog or a crazy occupant who’d keep you talking for hours on the front doorstep.

Tugmore Terrace seemed like a normal enough street. Houses ranging from fancy to scruffy. Some posh, some not so much. Plenty of lefty middle-class people with ‘Vote Green’ posters in their windows, log burners and worm farms. Number 42 was one of the nicer properties, with a lavender bay window and well-kept plants out front. I had a big package for the guys in there so I knocked on, and Joe answered quite quickly. He was a handsome guy, slightly chunky, dark hair and beard, just closing his bathrobe as he answered the door to me.

“Sorry! Was just in the middle of a zoom…”

“What kinda zoom in your dressing gown?” I joked.

He responded with a blushing smile. I half thought I could hear the sound of moaning coming from inside the house, then when he realised my ears were pricking up he quickly pulled his vestibule door shut. My eyes drifted downwards to where he looked to be stifling a prominent bulge in his bathrobe. I tried not to stare.

OK full disclosure. I’m a curious guy. I’ve never settled on a sexuality but I’ve only ever been with women, a few of them trans, and I have wanked off to gay porn now and then. I particularly get off to anything with a guy dominating his partner – skullfucking, messy blow jobs, verbal, that kind of filth. But I was yet to experience the real thing despite being a bit turned on by the idea of it. Anyway I took out his parcel and, still getting used to the trolley and a bit distracted by what I’d seen, the package got caught, tore and fell at my feet.

“Shit sorry, mate!” I said, leaning down to grab it. As I did, I glanced up to see a gap in his bathrobe, and through it I could see the tip of a flared purple bell end, glistening in the morning sun as a globule of precum dangled from the tip. I quickly picked up the parcel but in doing so it fell open and a rolled-up piece of tarpaulin fell out into his vestibule.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he laughed. “It’s not breakable.”

“Probably only going in the garden anyway, right?” I joked.

Again he blushed. “Not quite.”

He bundled it up, smirking at me as he backed away.

“Thanks mate,” he said, before opening the vestibule door. The sound of moaning was now louder, as was the sound of skin slapping against skin. I could have sworn I heard a man cry out “Fuck me harder daddy!”

I scoffed at the sound, a reflex action.

Joe grimaced. “I should turn my TV down,” he said before winking at me and closing the front door in my face.

I’m not gonna lie. I had a semi going on from the encounter. I’d seen a man’s wet cock, and I’m pretty sure I’d interrupted him watching porn. The rest of my round was spent thinking about him inviting me in to watch the porn with him, imagining he was watching a gangbang video with one young pretty lad – I think the gays call them twinks – being pounded by four or five guys. And how we’d both be stroking our tools, getting the juices flowing until it was making that squelching sound, and he’d lean over and take me in his mouth and I’d get to live my messy sloppy skullfucking fantasy with him. Before I knew it I was wet in my trousers and posting the wrong letters through the wrong boxes.

I had a word with myself and cracked on with the job at hand. But the minute I got back to the depot I was straight into the toilets where I plonked myself down on the seat, trousers round my ankles. My rigid 8 inches was slapping on my belly already, pooling pre in my belly button, my foreskin slid back so my greasy purple end throbbed freely. I slicked up my shaft with the pre and wanked fast. I’d been out in the sun all morning so my loose baggy balls bounced and sent that stink up to my nostrils. My taint was filling the air as I tightened my grip and imagined his mouth sliding up and down, choking him on my length… until I spurted high, hitting the wall with my seed. It was intense – and took me a minute to come down from it, my hard-on putting up a fight as I willed it to fuck off.

It got there in the end, and I quickly wiped my splooge off the wall before stepping back into the real world. Laughing and joking with the lads in work, I tried to forget the fact I’d just cracked one off thinking about getting a blow job off a guy. But it wasn’t my first time fantasizing and wouldn’t be the last. Something felt different now though. Like I’d been within spitting distance of it actually happening. Maybe even swallowing distance.

Next morning I found myself going through the post for Tugmore Terrace secretly hoping there would be another big delivery for number 42. Another excuse to see him, flirt with him, maybe even catch him mid-wank again. Alas – there was nothing! I was a bit gutted but tried to pretend I wasn’t, even though the mere thought of it made my knob throb.

I had a nightmare with an old couple on the next street – a mix up with one of their deliveries which they decided was all my fault and nothing to do with Amazon being dicks. They kept me there for ages, moaning at me, giving me their life story and telling me how the bedspread they’d ordered should be pink not blue and how it had ruined their entire weekend. Fascinating, right? Anyway it meant I didn’t get to Tugmore Terrace until lunchtime, at which point I was convinced I’d missed his morning wank.

Bills for number 38, something from Etsy for number 40, then I got to 42 and noticed his curtains were closed. No signs of life. Determined to not be a weird stalker I marched ahead – but then something caught my eye. The front door wasn’t shut, it was slightly open and I heard a gasp and a thud coming from the other side. I stopped in my tracks as I heard something like keys hitting a tiled floor.

“Everything okay?” I asked, a jokey tone in my voice, half concerned someone was hurt, the other half of me secretly happy to have an excuse to engage with him again.

There was no response. Deciding it was none of my business, I moved on to number 44, delivering what looked like a letter from the tax man. Poor fucker. And I was about to crack on with my round when suddenly the front door of number 42 opened. A tradie stepped out on to the step. Rigger boots, high viz gear, ginger beard, looking very shifty. He was wiping something off his trouser leg as he caught my eye, hardened in the face and rushed off. He’d left the door ajar so I gave in to temptation and peered in.

The first thing I saw was the tarpaulin that I’d delivered the day before. It had been hung like a curtain in the vestibule doorway, and just below the centre a hole had been cut out and lined with gaffer tape.

“Er… hello?” I uttered.

“Fucking stupid door – can you shut it for me please?” came a voice from behind the tarpaulin.

It was Joe. And I knew exactly what I was looking at. He’d used the tarpaulin I delivered to build a makeshift gloryhole. And I’d just watched one very lucky visitor leave! On auto pilot, being the nice guy I am, I quickly responded “Sure yeah no worries.”

But just as I gripped the handle, he responded, “Shut it behind you if you like.”

I looked to the tarpaulin, and focused on the hole as a smiling mouth came into view, already plastered with cum, fingers picking cum out of the beard and stuffing it into his mouth. A greedy pig indeed. I turned to my trolley, locked and secure in the street. It would be OK to leave for a few minutes, right?

I felt my cock go instantly rigid in my trousers as I shakily stepped into the vestibule. I hadn’t felt adrenaline like it, coursing through my veins as I tried to control the tremble. Closing the door behind me, turning the handle up to ensure it stayed shut, I shakily unzipped my trousers, worried I’d blow my load before I even got my cock out. I’d read about gloryholes, seen some videos on twitter, but never found one to use. It made me laugh to think I’d delivered it to him in the first place!

My fat 8 inches bounced out of my trousers and splattered the tiles with pre cum. He beckoned me closer to the hole with a finger, licking his lips at the sight of my rigid tool dripping for him. I edged closer, pushing my cock through the hole and closed my eyes. In seconds my sweaty prick was surrounded by the most intense wet heat.

The moist velvet of his tongue engulfed my head, sending shockwaves through my body as I felt him swallow 8 inches in one go. I cried out, feeling his sucking skills go into overdrive as I held on to the door frame for support. His hunger for my tool lifted me to my tip-toes as he grunted in pig pleasure, savouring the flavour of my sweaty cock. As he sucked harder and harder my balls tightened, the cream swirling in my nuts begging for freedom. He gripped the shaft and started to stroke me off, licking the tip as it literally gushed with pre.

“Jesus, you’re gonna make me shoot!” I moaned.

“Give me those babies!” he grunted and I lost my shit – and my load.

His dirty mouth opened and received each spurt. Five, six, seven full spurts blasted his tonsils and one taste made him slurp me down so he swallowed everything I had to give. I sweated, my heart pounded, my head spun. I was being drained by a man, with my fucking post trolley parked outside. What the hell was I thinking?!

But it felt too good. Again my hard on refused to die.

“Turn round and bend over,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I wanna taste your shitter,” he growled like an animal.

“But… I’m… I’m sweaty, it’s hot, I…”

“Spread em.”

The pig was hungry for my hole. How could I deny him? This was something I’d only ever dreamt of, to have someone worship my arse like some slut in a porn film. Turning to face the door, I reached forward to hold on to the handle, and then I bent over, pushing my arse back like some skanky girl wanting to be fucked. Just thinking that made my cock throb anew. I spread my cheeks and before I knew it he was nose deep, diving in with his tongue.

I moaned loud, not expecting that kind of vigour. I thought he’d take one sniff of my hairy trench and change his mind but clearly my stink was his poppers. He went deep, his long tongue snaking into my poop chute. He was digging inside for all the arse juices he could savour, moaning as he took long slurps from the top of my sweaty crack to my dangling balls below. Up and down, long slow swipes, spitting in my hole, rubbing it with his thumb and then teasing me as he pushed the tip in. It made more precum pour out of my still engorged fuck tool, and the minute he saw this he reached down and dragged my cock under to point at his mouth.

Suddenly he was sucking and milking me from behind, his nose resting in my crevice taking deep loud sniffs. He made love to my hole with that mouth, making me pucker, licking my cheeks, nibbling them, savouring every inch of my aromatic bubble butt. All the while he pulled on my dick, swirling his hand around it like a pepper mill, sucking hard on the bell end, sucking the balls.

“Fuck man I’ll cum again if you keep doing that!”

“Do it. Give me more cum!”

He sucked my hole and wanked my cock until I felt the surge from my toes to my balls. An eruption was coming.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuuuck…”

He took the cue and opened his mouth under my dick just in time for a torrent of sticky man juice. I pumped load after load into his waiting eager fuckhole of a mouth. He was so grateful, groaning as he swallowed the protein. The wave of orgasm kept going to the point where I wondered if my balls would ever stop emptying. So much cum flooded his mouth, covered his beard, dripped down on to the floor.

As the pleasure subsided I felt the need to laugh. I fell forward, overcome with relief, joy, surprise. And on the other side of the gloryhole he was laughing too. I fell to my knees, turned around and saw his knees poking under the tarpaulin too. Both of us laughed, watching each other through the gloryhole. It felt random, stupid, dirty… put pure. Two people who’d just absolutely lived their best dirty lives.

A split second and it was over – reality hit. My trolley was outside. I was on the clock! I quickly got up, dragging my trousers up and zipping myself back in as I still shook with the rush of my first man on man experience.

“Nice one mate,” was all I could manage.

“Any time,” was his response.

I shakily opened the door and stepped back out into the harsh light of day. I felt lighter. Brighter. Less bothered by the heat. And as I shut the door behind me and his words “any time” echoed in my head, I wondered how much he meant that.

This was proving to be a very interesting new route…

“No shame” - from The Kink Shrink, Part One

In my story The Kink Shrink, therapist Cole Harrison takes a closeted, frustrated, stifled builder called Clyde in hand and lets him unleash the kinks he’s been burying inside him for years. The story came out of two elements of my real life: my ongoing journey with inner shame, and my turning to therapy for help!

My therapist was not a hunky pervert with a penchant for piss play. That part of the story is purely down to one thing - my imagination! That’s my job as a writer of erotica, after all. To take the seeds of reality in my every day life and explore their potential both dramatically and erotically.

But the shame Clyde feels is something I drew on from very real and very painful lived experience. I think it’s something we all have in common at one point or another. As kinky people, as queer people, hell… just as people in general. We’re taught that the thing that hot-wires our brain and connects it to that trouble-maker between our legs is something to be hidden. With Cole and Clyde that is something I really wanted to deep-dive into. In the story, Clyde is a very macho, heteronormative builder, complete with a loving girlfriend who he’s lived with for years. But in bed she’s pretty vanilla. One night she catches him jerking off to piss porn and it causes him no end of humiliation. And not the kind that gets him hard.

But how many times have we come across an image, a film, a story, or even a situation in real life where we get that rush of blood to the cock but feel like maybe we shouldn’t? Shame’s a heavy and clinging weight to bear. It sticks to us, it itches on our skin like one of those grubby old blankets I remember having to sleep under as a kid on a family trip to North Wales. Funny enough that’s also a holiday where I saw my very first sex scene.

Imagine - in a holiday rental where the beds were in the same room as the sofa and TV. The little version of me, all wrapped up in the blanket from hell trying to sleep whilst an Aunt and Uncle were watching The Stud (1978) on TV thinking I was asleep like my cousins. But I wasn’t. Through one little beady eye I could see Joan Collins and Oliver Tobias indulging in all manner of sexual shenanigans set to disco music. I was too young to compute it completely but I knew it was something I shouldn’t be seeing. My Aunt caught me peeping and quickly switched the channel before playfully calling me naughty and telling me to get to sleep. My body flushed from head to toe and my heart raced and I pulled the itchy blanket over my head because I could feel something that I would come to know all too well in my life. A lurch in my stomach that said I should be embarrassed. I should be ashamed.

It’s not a unique experience. We’ve all been there in one way or another. But couple that with an inquisitive brain, a rich and varied imagination and the slow burn realisation that I was a gay boy too - something that came with its own ready made brand of shame - and you’ve got all the makings of one very repressed boy!

So what do you do with that? Well as a tween, and then a teen, you don’t have the emotional intelligence or the opportunity to get therapy. At least I didn’t. But I used storytelling as my outlet and still do now. When I’m filling the page with sensory, feral sex I’m doing it to turn you on. No validation like someone telling you you made them blow a load or two or three. But then when characters laugh and hold each other after they cum, or when someone like Cole takes Clyde’s face in his hands and says “No shame”, not only am I saying that to you as you wipe the spray from your belly. I’m still saying it to myself!

Therapy taught me to be kinder to me. Self-care can come in many forms. A glass of red wine at the end of the day. Dark chocolate in abundance. A casual walk in the nearby woods. Or it can be an afternoon spread-eagled in the bedroom, edging myself until it looks like I just wet the bed (you know I have to always bring it back to the reason we’re here).

But practicing self-care can also mean opening myself up on the page and sharing my tales with you good people. I’m owning my fantasies and my kinks and I’m letting you own them too. In all their dirty glory. And hopefully when I do that, everyone’s a winner!

No shame, Will, no shame!

Sign up to read the Kink Shrink here

I can’t wait to get back in the hot seat in his office. Hope you can join me!

Full disclosure. I’m a lazy fucker. I let my man do the cooking and I always offer to do the dishes in return – mainly because we have a dishwasher. So all I have to do is load the thing up. But I always joke that after I’ve loaded the machine I’ll load him, which stops him moaning. Well, it just makes him moan in a different way.

Yes I married a hungry bottom. He’s a few years older than me – wiry, dark skinned with salt and pepper hair, a slightly hairy slim body and a pert ass that’s somehow kept its tightness despite him getting banged by every fat cock he can find on Grindr.

But this isn’t about Carl and his insatiable hole, it’s not even about how he rides my cock at any given chance. His hole just loves to milk my snake dry. We’re pretty open although the well has been dry of late as there’s only so many times you can shag your way round the neighbourhood without getting bored. I was pretty bored the other night when I was loading the dishwasher. We live in a terrace and the back looks on to the back of the houses in the next street. Basically eye to eye contact with whoever’s doing their dishes across the way.

We’re number 61 so I’m guessing the people out the back are a similar number but on the even side. I’m gonna call them number 64. Usually I’ll see a sour-faced single mum stomping about that kitchen, clearly in a bad mood from the way she slams the cupboard doors. She must be a joy to live with. Over the years I’ve seen her son and daughter – a chunky girl and a chunky lad – both in late teens.

The other day I noticed the son is suddenly a young man. Tuft of facial hair, hitting the gym so the chub has turned to solid meat, square jaw, about twice the height of his mother. I’d only caught a glimpse and he’d turned my head. I confessed to Carl, who told me in no uncertain terms he’d noticed too and it was nothing to feel bad about. So I’m going with that! If Carl says it, it’s true – that’s my motto for life!

So the other day disaster struck. The dishwasher broke. We were told it would be days until it was fixed so yours truly was left holding the sponge, and the scrubber, and the Fairy liquid.

“It’s not fair!” I cried at Carl. “I wasn’t born to scrub!”

“I’ll gladly take over if you want to do the fucking cooking,” was his retort and I didn’t need to be told twice. I did decided to make his life a living hell until the dishwasher was fixed though.

It was the first time I’d done the dishes in years – and the first time I’d spent more than two minutes in the kitchen staring directly at the back window of number 64. There she was – mizzo mum looking like a bulldog chewing a wasp as she shouted the odds at someone I couldn’t see. I was giggling, imagining her nagging voice, when he came into view.

Sonny Boy, towering above her, petulant look on his face – and most importantly, he was shirtless. A taut, tight, tanned body, smooth, with pecs on the grow and a natural six pack. I almost drooled. He was only missing a garden hose, a sunny day and a horny housewife (me) offering him a Diet Coke. As he nodded at whatever she was saying, she threw a soapy sponge at him. It hit his chest and the white bubbles trickled down his six pack like he was on an Athena poster from the 90s! As their argument continued, mizzo mum stormed off and left him to do the dishes. Sonny Boy muttered expletives to himself and started splashing about in the water so it soaked his abs even more. I was about to call Carl in to enjoy the view with me but I must say I was enjoying the private show.

He realised he had soaked himself and grabbed a towel to start wiping himself, and then as he brushed one of his succulent brown nipples I could see a visible gasp escape his luscious lips. So his nipples were sensitive! He looked over his shoulder as if checking nobody was there, then started to tweak his nipples repeatedly. His eyes closed as he played with them, and I felt my own nipples harden just watching him. They weren’t the only thing becoming engorged. My cock started to inflate in my pyjama bottoms (yes I had my pyjamas on at six thirty in the evening, so sue me). I reached down and squeezed my cut six inches, feeling the blood pulse through the flesh. I mirrored his action, reaching up and stroking my own nipple through my thin white t-shirt. Just as I felt a shock wave run directly from nipple to my cock he looked up and made direct eye contact! It’s like he’d heard the power of the pulse of electricity my tweaking had caused.

Our eyes locked together for the space of about two seconds and I quickly moved my hand away, looked down at the dishes and laughed when I realised my cock was out of my pants and resting on the sink, the purple head throbbing above the suds of soapy water. I looked up and saw he was still staring at me. The mix of curiosity, surprise and a touch of mocking made me shrink away from the window. I was giddy, completely undone by a lad who couldn’t have been more than 18. How ridiculous! I looked back at him and he just smirked then carried on washing his own dishes like nothing had happened. I got a hold of myself – not literally – and cracked on with the mountain I had to wash, refusing to give in and look up again. When I did finally cave – he was gone!

I felt a flush of excitement I hadn’t had in a while. I knew full well this 18 year old hunk was just teasing for the attention. I’m not exactly a minger but I’m a pretty average man in my late thirties, glasses, balding a bit. I go the gym to keep my belly smaller than it used to be. But I don’t kid myself. To a lad of his age I’m ancient. But I’d watched him rub his soapy nipples for my enjoyment and my cock was not about to forget that. So Carl was surprised when I re-entered our lounge, pyjamas tucked under my low-hanging balls and my rigid tool pointed in his direction.

“I thought you were coming to moan about that dishwasher!” he laughed.

“No, I’m coming to breed your cunt,” I warned him before dragging him from the sofa and whipping his track suit bottoms down to reveal that hairy tight cunt I knew and loved.

I made him pause The One Show, spat on his hairy hole and fucked him hard over the foot-rest, our blinds closed so nobody could see as I squatted behind my husband and drove home a four minute load deep into his innards. I flipped him over and throated his eight inch uncut cock as my own babies leaked from his used cunt on to the rug, scooping it up and eating it whilst he blew his wad all over my glasses.

Afterwards he asked what had brought it on and I told him I’d seen something filthy on my phone. I wanted to keep Sonny Boy to myself. I know that’s bad but sometimes you just have to have your own naughty pleasure.

The next night I was only too quick to do the washing up. My cock tingled with anticipation as I took to the kitchen sink and found he was already there. This time he had a t-shirt on, annoyingly. But it didn’t take long for his eyes to meet mine. He smirked, looking down at his chores as he splashed a ton of water on the t-shirt. I kept my eyes fixed on him as he glanced up at me before reaching down, grabbing the bottom of the t-shirt… and slowly peeling it off! I was slack-jawed as I watched him do a striptease. He threw the t-shirt to the side and carried on with his job. My heart raced, my stomach fluttered, as I considered my next step. I couldn’t… could I? Well… I did. Before I knew it was I was unbuttoning my shirt and slipping out of it. He just smirked, then suddenly ducked out of view.

I was confused until he came back into view holding on to some dishes, and backed away from the sink. He turned to the cupboards to reach up and put the dishes away… and his shorts had been hiked down to reveal the most beautiful smooth bubble butt. Pert, pale against the rest of his tanned body, utterly delicious. As he reached up, he flexed his ass. I was solid as a rock and thought, in for a penny, and pulled out my cock to start stroking it. I slowly backed away from the sink, knowing he’d be able to see more of my body if I did so. He turned around to face the window, his own tool now on display. From where I was standing it looked bigger than mine, girthy, with some neat pubes framing its fleshy length.

I slowly stroked my cock as I stared right at him and he started to do the same. I don’t know what possessed me – I was already acting like a reckless idiot, so I thought nothing of being totally ridiculous as I reached for the nearby rolling pin. I picked it up and held the tip to my mouth, running my tongue along it as I watched him. He laughed, then nodded as he tugged on his prick. I wrapped my entire mouth around the rolling pin – one of my party tricks is that I can fit two massive cocks in my mouth at once – and started to suck on it hungrily. The sheer madness of what I was doing, coupled with the view I had of a muscular lad half my age jerking his cock for me, all made for a heady mix.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

I stopped in horror. I turned to see Carl stood there, agog.

“I ‘er… shit…” I started to laugh. He did the same. He looked over at Sonny Boy in his window, who froze on the spot.

“You’re kidding me!”

“I’m sorry!” I began. “It just happened so I thought I’d go with it!”

“Look at that cock!” Carl almost growled.

He looked down at mine.

“Fuck it let’s give him a show!” he said.

Carl stood beside me and unzipped his jeans, letting his own growing member flop out. Sonny Boy had pulled his shorts up and was about to flee when he saw Carl was now entering the game. He walked away from view.

“Oh. Charming!” Carl joked.

“Fuck him, he clearly has no taste,” I cajoled.

But then Sonny Boy edged back into view, nervously watching us and reaching into his shorts. Carl and I started to wank each other slowly, before falling into a deep passionate kiss. I found myself lost in my husband for a moment, almost forgetting about the dream boy masturbating to our show across the back alley. But Carl didn’t – turning to look directly at the lad as I sucked on his ear and neck. I kissed my way down Carl’s body and engulfed his throbbing cock in my mouth, slurping and sucking noisily as Carl moaned louder than usual, clearly putting on a show.

“He can’t hear you!” I laughed between sucks.

“Shut up and suck you adulterer!” Carl joked.

I giggled and sucked Carl’s wet tip before coming back to my feet, watching the boy stroke his purple bell end, one eye over his shoulder to make sure mezzo Mum didn’t catch him!

“Suck me!” I said.

“I can’t, I don’t want to miss him shooting!”

“Fucksake,” I snapped back as we jerked each other hard and fast for his viewing pleasure.

I then held up my hand and twirled my finger in the air, telling him to turn around. He nodded, and slowly turned to show that ass again.

“Fucking hell!” Carl gasped.

“I know right. I’d tear that apart!”

As if he’d heard me, the boy stepped further from the window to show more of that ass. Then he kicked off his shorts, and suddenly lifted his right foot and planted it on the work top to spread those cheeks and reveal the most delicious smooth tight cunt. Carl and I were squelching with pre cum as we wanked furiously, and it only took for the lad to touch his tacky hole with one finger before we’d reached the sticky point of no return.

In a grunting moaning crescendo my husband and I erupted our loads. Both creamy wads blew at once and shot high, covering the dishes in the sink, splattering the window. Clearly it was too much for Sonny Boy too who quickly turned on his side so he was in profile. His thick tool blew a hot teen wad high in the air as he looked over at us, gasping in pleasure, pretty face contorted, mouth agape.

As we came to our senses, Carl and I looked at each other and erupted again – this time in laughter. Across the way the lad did the same, quickly pulling his shorts back on and grabbing some kitchen roll to clear up his mess.

“So come on,” Carl joked. “How long has this been going on?”

“Two days,” I admitted. “I was going to tell you!”

“Liar!” he laughed. “I need to make a phone call.”

“Who to?”

“The dishwasher repair people,” he told me. “To let them know there’s really no rush to get it fixed!”

Check out Part Two of this story here:

I wasn’t lying when I told Billy the front room in our shared house was the one that got all the sun. I woke to the sound of seagulls. Absolute fucking monsters. If a bird could get an ASBO it would be a seagull – utter moronic thugs good for nothing but stealing your chips and shitting all over you. And, as it would seem, squawking so loud it wakes you from a deep, post-orgasmic sleep. We’d slept with the windows open after a night of pizza and buggery had left us sweating in a bubble of manly musk. As my eyes blinked open they were greeted by a beautiful sight.

The sun shone in through a crack in the flimsy curtains and the light was dancing across the most perfect pale white buns. Billy’s tight globes shone with a tuft of celtic red-tinted hair peeking out from the crack. Billy was sleeping face down, one leg over the sheets so his bum was on display in the morning light. His white socks looked brilliant and frsh in the beam of sun even though I knew he was anything but clean. My head was crushed into his back where I feel like I’d slept like the dead all night, not a single movement. My arm was draped across his waist which brought a smile to my face as I realised something.

We’d spooned. This rough little Irish tradie who had moved into our shared house only weeks ago and caught my attention with his low-slung grey joggers was also little spoon!

A couple days later I was telling my friend Adam – a dancer I’d shagged on a night out years ago who’d stayed in my life as a buddy not a boyfriend – and he clapped his hands in delight over his sando and told me it was a sure-fire sign he was the one.

“If they’re little spoon after the first shag they’re for keeps!” Adam gasped. “But by ‘for-keeps’ I mean ‘gay for-keeps’ so I give it six months tops!”

We’d giggled, we’d queened it up, we’d drawn attention from the other pretentious patrons of the new sandwich shop a block away from the house on Tugmore Terrace. But if I’d told him what happened next, I feel those hipster eavesdroppers would probably have asked me to leave. Or maybe not. Everyone’s a perv deep down, right?

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Firstly let me say thank you so much for jumping on my filth train! I’ve been writing erotica for a while and never really knew where to put it or what to do with it. As someone who is both a pervert and very nosy (kinder people may call me observant), my work has always been a combination of two things: it’s character-led, in a curtain-twitching, peek-through-the-blinds voyeuristic way, and it’s incredibly sensory.

But let me tell you about me…

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I started today wanting to strangle my brother Jimmy. I ended it wanting to kiss him! Not in a pervy incest way. But basically I let him use my car yesterday to go and get his kids from their bitch of a mother. She’d had a meltdown over her new boyfriend and called my brother begging him to take them for the day. I was stuck at home waiting for a delivery so I thought it couldn’t do any harm to be all ‘good deedy’ and let him take them out in the car. Little did I realise he was taking them via a McDonalds drive thru and he was going to return my pride and joy absolutely covered in ketchup, mustard, a milkshake that had clearly been used in a fight, and what looked like ground-up chicken nuggets. He just did that thing that entitled straight parents do. Rolled his eyes, said ‘kids ey’, threw me twenty quid towards getting it cleaned and I was left with an absolute pig sty on wheels.

Passing Tugmore Terrace I noticed the new Turkish car wash that had opened at the top of the road. I was so annoyed that I couldn’t stand the thought of even driving another ten minutes to the big Tesco up the road where they charged over the odds. A sign emblazoned over the entrance promised a ‘DEEP CLEAN!’ But looking at the state of the place I wondered how accurate that could be. Situated in a converted garage, the car wash was a damp, cavernous hole with leaking hoses lying around, another car left unattended and no sign of life! There was a booth at the back where the workers were clearly supposed to be stationed – but I couldn’t see a soul. Climbing out of the car, I called for attention, in no mood to be fucked about.

That’s when I saw movement in the booth. A lithe, slim, dark-eyed Turkish lad, who I soon found out was called Adi, stepped up into view, followed by a slightly older, hairier guy, who I’m gonna call daddy. Daddy was wiping his mouth and laughing. I’d have assumed they’d been busy snacking on their lunch but something told me different. Something that made my dick twitch in my trousers.

I’m a horn dog, no two ways about it. I broke up with my muesli-eating dull as fuck boyfriend Kev a few months ago and ever since I’ve been trying to live out every frustrated fantasy I’ve ever had. Unfortunately, I’ve discovered real life is not a porn video, but it doesn’t stop me being on the lookout for opportunities. As Adi approached, in a dirty white vest that showed off his sculpted arms and slightly hairy tight body, he wore a beaming smile.

“Sorry mate,” he said in broken English. “You want valet?”

“Yeah I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess,” I replied. “Not my fault!”

He laughed, looking into the car. “Your kids went wild!”

“Oh they’re not mine!” I replied like a shot. “I’m gay!”

The minute the words came out of my mouth I wanted to cringe myself inside out. He smirked, looking to approaching Daddy. Whilst he wasn’t looking in my direction I cast a glance down at his dirty jeans and noticed a prominent bulge sloping up in the direction of his right hip. I can smell a stiffy a mile off.

“Sorry I… anyway how much for the lot?”

“Twenty,” Adi replied. “You go, we do it.”

“Oh I… I don’t mind staying,” I said, my eyes falling across Daddy’s barrel chest and belly to the bulge in his blue joggers, sloping up to his right hip. I realised the position of their hard dicks side by side almost formed a perfect triangle. They just needed me to complete the shape.

The Daddy spoke to Adi in Turkish, and Adi responded likewise. Whatever they said to each other caused a sneaky grin on both their faces… and I’m pretty sure Daddy’s bulge twitched. Could they be talking about me? Did I actually interrupt something? I told myself to get a grip.

Remember: real life – not porn.

“OK,” Adi said. “You sit.”

He gestured towards a battered old sofa sat to the right of the car, obscured from the main entrance and conveniently placed next to an oil heater. I headed over, all polite awkward smiles as I wondered what the hell I was going to do to stop myself perving over these hotties as they cleaned my car. That is so many kinds of wrong! I had terms like ‘white privilege’ spinning round my head as major guilt kicked in. But my knob couldn’t not twitch at the sight of two hot guys getting all sweaty and dirty together – especially if there was a very real possibility that they’d been getting it on five minutes ago. I parked myself, got my phone out and decided to flick through socials.

Watching both Adi and Daddy glance in my direction I felt a wave of self-consciousness that prompted me to check I didn’t look an absolute fright. Switching my camera to selfie mode I gave myself the once over. Messy dark hair – check. Eyes free of circles – check. Sculpted facial hair, nose ring, cheeky smile – check. Actually I was looking pretty good!

I kept Grindr switched off – that’s one addiction that’s paying dividends in headaches and trips to the STI clinic and not much else. Determined to keep things innocent I scrolled through my WhatsApp to text a friend but as I did, my fuck bud Paul fired a message through with a link to Twitter. Absent-mindedly and out of habit I hit the link and suddenly a video opened on my phone – volume on full.

In the video, a twink was being railed by two policemen in a prison cell. They were banging him hard and he was wailing, screaming “Fuck me hard!”

The sound echoed around the garage and I froze on the spot, quickly switching the video off before looking up from my screen to see both Adi and Daddy looking right at me, knowing smirks on their faces.

“Sorry,” I laughed.

“Is OK,” Daddy grunted with a wink.

The wink he gave me inflated my dick more than the hardcore porn my screen had flooded me with. I smiled back at him before looking back at my phone to tell my mate he should have given me some warning! But I couldn’t be too mad at him. Whatever seeds I’d scattered with my embarrassing “I’m gay” comment had just been well and truly watered with that filthy soundbite. I looked up from my phone to see Adi was bent over scrubbing the back seat of my car with his tight arse in the air, whilst Daddy was vacuuming the driver’s seat. My eyes were glued to the juicy, denim-clad rump poking out of the back of my car, until I glanced up and saw Daddy was watching me with a smirk.

“Adi,” Daddy said, then spoke in Turkish.

Adi stopped what he was doing, turned around and looked me in the eyes before smirking and going back to his cleaning, gyrating that arse in the air as he did it. Was he seriously putting on a show for me? I felt my heartrate rise and the adrenaline pump as I decided to test the situation. I reached down to my crotch and gave it a brief squeeze, before going back to my phone. I kept my eyes on my screen for a good ten seconds before I looked back up and saw Daddy, his eyes on me, reach down and squeeze his own crotch in response. He looked over at Adi’s arse and licked his lips.

“You like my boy?”

“Yes!” I snapped back before realising I’d responded.

“You like him? My son?”

His words made my heart race. Surely I’d heard wrong. Lost in translation. Language barrier. It couldn’t be...

“Your son?”

“Yes. My son. You like?”

I thought my balls might give up their load there and then. My heart was fit to burst out of my chest as the rush surged through me and I just nodded, knowing Daddy and Adi were about to take things to a whole new level of wrong. A wrong that was oh so right.

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It was my last job of the night. I was going home to my bird to shag the arse off her to be honest, I had a throbber on in my joggers. She’d been teasing me all day saying she was in the mood to be extra dirty with me, and was dropping hints she wanted to film it too. Sorry I’ll back up a bit. I’ve got an OnlyFans. I know. So has everyone these days, I get it. But my last girl, Tiff, got me on there and we made a fair bit of money on it before she shagged my best mate and I fucked her off. She took the OnlyFans and the money and here I am, stuck behind the wheel of a taxi making ends meet.

I’m Callum. Originally from Glasgow, now in I live here… where I’d rather be to be honest, less familiar faces who I can’t be arsed bumping into. I’ve got sick tattoos, I hammer the beds, I’m smooth, blue-eyed, teeth done, fresh as fuck. Gym four times a week. Nine inch cock. Shoot like a geyser. The birds love me, so do the lads, which is cool. I’m just an exhibitionist, so any kind of attention gets me half-way there. A pretty mouth, a banging arse and a nice set of round tits gets me the whole way and then once I’m hard I’ll stick it in anything long as it’s of age, consenting and not riddled.

So yeah the new girl, Elena, Polish, massage therapist who looks like a model, she’s been saying she’d help me get back out there with the content. She did it a while back and enjoyed it, she just got bored. So I’m thinking I’ll fill up the tank, get home, set up the tripod and wallop her everywhere and see if I can start my big comeback – or cumback. Then last minute she rings and says her sister’s come round in a state after having a fight with her husband so I’m all bricked up with nowhere to shove it. It had been a long night so I was ready to call time on it anyway, but that’s when my last job came up.

Stefan – pick up at a bar in city centre, take him home to the leafy suburbs. Tugmore Terrace! The name of the street made me snigger because I am essentially a teenage boy in a 28 year old’s body. Surely the people who live there must have a right giggle when they have to tell people their address!

I swung by, he jumped in the car. Stunk of Jean Paul Gaultier, smartly dressed, handsome, slim, preppy-looking. He’d had a few jars so was a bit loose around the tongue department but very much in control of his faculties. He tells me he’s a photographer for some local magazine but does his own stuff on the side that’s a bit less mainstream and vanilla. I kept catching his eye in the rear-view and knew he was checking me out. I mean he’s only human. So I says to him, what’s your other stuff then? He sniggered, looking at his phone and then said, “Probably best I show you.”

I’d stopped at the lights when he turned the screen to me. On the phone was a black and white photo of a stocky black dude, naked apart from a pair of rigger boots, on his back, legs in the air, big fat black cock spurting jizz and his finger in his arsehole. I won’t lie. My dick started to wake up again after the night’s disappointment.

“Fuck me,” I laughed. “Wasn’t expecting that!”

“Sorry,” Stefan replied. “Didn’t mean to shock you or anything.”

“Oh mate I’m not easy shocked,” I joked. “Been known to get in front of the camera myself.”

His eyes lit up. He sat forward in the seat. “You know what? This sounds like a line, I know, but I’m not surprised. You’re so photogenic.”

It did sound like a line, but I was into it. Our eyes locked to each other. He was pretty for a guy. Could tell he looked after himself, good skin, full lips, clean as a whistle. There was tension in the air heavier than the load I was carrying in my freshly shaved ball sack. But it was quickly broken when the lights changed and some dickhead honked his horn at me from behind. We carried on through busy traffic, with Stefan sat back in his seat scrolling on his phone as I kept catching him looking at my legs from the side. I wear shorts in all weathers. It’s a good way to show off my leg ink which stands out pretty well against my soft blond hairs.

“So you shoot guys wanking and stuff?”

“And stuff,” he laughed.

“What, like, fucking?”

“Fucking, sucking, rimming, you name it.”

“Good times!” I said, light. “You ever… join in?”

“Sometimes,” he replied with a smirk. “Depends on whether they want that to happen or not. I just go with the flow.”

“Nice.”

He fell quiet, his eyes on my thigh as I scratched between my legs. He was so obviously trying to see a little bit further but the position of my driver’s seat meant he had no chance. I was enjoying the tease.

“So what’ve you done in front of the camera?” he asked.

A little twitch in the cock. You can’t keep an exhibitionist down. “This and that. Me and my ex mainly.”

“Oh? Ex… girlfriend?”

I scoffed. “Yep.”

He just nodded. “So you’re an OnlyFans celeb then?”

“Hardly, mate. But we had a good following for a bit.”

“Shame I wasn’t one of them. Reckon I’d enjoy seeing that content.”

“That right, yeah?” My flirty tone came out before I could control it. I can’t help it. I’d flirt with a fucking chair, me.

“You could always show me, seeing as you’ve seen what I do?”

I just smiled, knowing full well I wanted to do that. The attention was sending blood south fast. But I had to keep my eyes on the road, so that was the perfect excuse to leave this thirsty lad hanging. Silence was deafening until I hit the next set of lights and we stopped.

“Fuck it,” I said nonchalantly before taking out my phone.

I quickly scrolled through my videos – a grid of cock pics, arse pics, videos of my muscle butt thrusting into some lucky bitch, heels on my shoulders, but funny enough I didn’t land on anything that involved a girl. Just a straight up wank video with me sat on my sofa at home in a footy kit, stroking my massive pole and playing with my pink nipple. I quickly switched it on and turned it to show him. Stefan swept in like his life depended on it, getting an eyeful of me playing with myself. I cranked up the volume so he could hear me moaning for the camera.

“Fucking hell!” Stefan laughed.

“I get that a lot,” I replied.

“That is so hot,” he sighed. “Please tell me you’re about to cum on there…”

“Mate it’s massive, goes fucking everywhere,” I responded, realising my voice had dropped an octave to my ‘porn voice’, usually reserved for my followers.

Then the lights changed. I put the phone between my legs, nestled against what was now a full hard-on, as I put my foot down.

He grunted, sat back with a petulant pout. “Bastard traffic lights, cum-blocking me.”

“Cum-block that’s funny. Sounds like sun block.”

“I know what I’d rather be rubbing all over my white bits,” Stefan said, eyes on mine in the rear-view.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, feeling my stomach flutter with excitement as I entered into the game with him, feeding on that sweet attention. “Bit of a cum slut are we?”

“Understatement,” Stefan said, a smirk curling on his wet mouth. “I just always have the same problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I get so greedy I want to swallow it all, but I love it all over me as well.”

His words made my piss slit gape and let out a massive blob of my salty pre cum in my shorts. I fell silent, feeling the chemistry creep up my body like teasing fingers.

“But it’s fine,” he went on. “I get round that by just sucking more than one at once.”

“I like your style!” I laughed. “What’s the most you’ve sucked at one time?”

“Erm… the other week I had six?” he responded. “Was doing a shoot in a hotel room in London and the fluffer didn’t show up so…”

“You took one for the team!”

“Yes. Well. Took six. I had to catch the cum shots on camera though so I couldn’t be the bukkake slag. But hey, I’m a professional. Get the shot before you, er, get the shot.”

“So you always put work first?”

“Depends really. Some dicks you just have to suck til they’re totally drained.”

His eyes rested on my thigh and then crept back up to meet mine. We were coming to the top of his road. I scoffed.

“Tugmore Terrace. Makes me laugh every time!” I joked.

“I know right? Lives up to its name too. Grindr is rife around here.”

“Seriously? It looks so boring.”

“Oh trust me, they’re all at it. There’s a guy down the street, got a gloryhole in his hallway.”

“Really? Interesting information, duly noted,” I said with a chuckle.

“Yeah I tried it once. Me and him shared some loads, bit of cum-snogging. Hot as fuck. But… I need to look into a guy’s eyes while I’m making him empty his balls. I’m a people-pleaser!”

I pulled up outside number 104 and took my phone out from between my legs. I held it up to continue the video and he reached out and stopped it, his hand touching mine and sending a buzz of electricity through my body.

“You could just show me your cum-shot in person,” he said.

I looked at his hand, resting on mine. Then he pulled away, hands up in surrender, shy smile on his face. “Didn’t mean to cross a line. Offer’s there.” He unbuckled his seat belt and moved to get out of the car. My cock strained against my shorts and by now was leaving a damp patch that was gonna be hard to hide at this rate.

“Could do with blowing this load like,” I said, clinging to the attention he was feeding me.

He stopped, looking over the seat to the throbbing wetness in my pants.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Bit of a situation there. Can have that sorted in no time.”

I looked around at the rows of houses in the dark, curtains closed, no movement, no sound. Would someone twitch their curtains open and catch me going in? At that point I didn’t care as much about getting caught as I did about keeping this buzz going, letting this gay lad worship me the way my bird was supposed to. And don’t get me wrong – she did – and she does! But I needed it there and then and knew full well my balls were in no danger of being drained when I got home to her and her crying sister. Thinking about them I suddenly imagined her and her sister sharing my cock, giggling, wiggling their bums in the air as they licked the tip between their plump pink mouths and their tongues touched… And I knew the horn was getting a grip of me! I had to blow this load. Now.

“Lead the way,” I said, before switching the engine off and letting the adrenaline do the work.

Before I knew it I was out of the cab, cock snot slobbering down my inner thigh and dripping out the end of my shorts as I followed him to his faceless boring terraced house. He was suited up and wore Doc Martens, and I couldn’t deny his arse looked pretty pert and tight in his trousers. I could picture me squeezing my prick between those cheeks. And he knew it. Stopping at his doorstep, he put one foot up two steps higher so his bum stuck out as he unlocked the door. I had the urge to grab it but held back, fully aware of where I was. He opened the door and in we went, through a darkened hallway, up the stairs and to one of what looked like three bedrooms. I was convinced I was leaving snail trail on the carpet as we walked, my balls oozing their batter freely like someone had turned on a tap that wouldn’t switch off.

We got to the back bedroom and he unlocked it – at which point I realised it was a shared house! For some reason the knowledge made me throb harder, the idea that there were two or three more people in this house who could catch me at any point! He led me into his room – scented candles, soft pink lights, a huge bed with gold covers. This boy was possibly the gayest thing I’d ever met. I moved towards the bed but before I could get there he’d fallen to his knees. The boy was gagging for my tool and I loved that.

He yanked my shorts down in one fell swoop and my python sprang out, red and dripping and in need of release. He tongued my wet slit, making me ooze some fresh pre. He groaned in delight, scooping it off and sucking his fingers clean before he inhaled about seven of my ten inches in one go. I found myself moaning loud as he went full hoover on me, glugging, grunting, slurping as he went hell for leather. His mouth was like a deep wet pool drain, the suction intense and hard, and his lips were perfection sliding up and down my veiny shaft. He slowed down and went all the way to the base, my massive monster sliding past his tonsils and down towards his windpipe. Surely he couldn’t swallow the lot? But after an eternity of slow swallowing his lips touching my shaven balls. He started to hum, vibrating my entire cock and making my knees shake. He held his head in place and started to shake it from side to side.

“Fucking hell!” I cried, my head falling back, my eyes staring at his ceiling.

He laughed, gagging and retching for fun as he started to bounce his throat back and forth up and down, twisting side to side with my meat pumping its precious pre by the gallon. He pulled back, gasping for air. He looked up and our eyes met.

“You like that?” he gasped.

“Needs more work,” I joked.

“Cheeky twat!”

He laughed out loud before swooping back down on me, sucking so hard I worried my spine would be yanked out through my piss slit. This lad knew exactly what he was doing, eyes on mine as he sucked and sucked. I nodded, good lad, and he closed his eyes and went all the way down again.

I put my hands on his head and started to thrust. He made a “mm-hmm” sound to tell me this was what he wanted, so I gave him the skull fuck he clearly craved and deserved. Gripping his head in place I started to pound away at his whore throat. He gagged and spluttered messily as I fucked his throat slime out all over the floor. Then I thrust it all the way and held it there, enjoying the control I had over his breathing.

I took my hands off his head and grunted, “Come up, inch by inch.”

He nodded, slowly backing off my cock as I’d ordered. I watched each inch emerge from his stretched soaked lips, my veins bulging, my balls tightening. Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, each inch revealed more of my massive dong until my big pink head glistened on his lips. Then I grabbed his head and thrust it all the way in again.

“Look me in the eyes while I choke you!”

He did. And I did. I thrust so hard I worried I’d bore a hole in the back of his head but he just took it, totally subbed, not even touching his own cock as I violated that slut hole he called a mouth. I cocked a leg up on his bed for extra leverage and thrust, my balls slapping his chin as I used his face. Between his choking and my grunting, I got the impression his housemates could hear us. And that made me so much harder.

“Take it!” I growled, hoping they’d hear. “I’m gonna cum all over that pretty fucking face!”

He coughed and grunted, his eyes streaming as he fought for breath against the big massive tool barrelling down his neck.

“You want it?”

He nodded, it was all he could do.

“You want this nut? All over your face?”

I didn’t wait for a response. My balls surged. The volcano was about to blow and there was no stopping it. I yanked my length free of his begging mouth and as he looked up at me, desperate, mouth gaping, I tugged my cock less than five times before the spurts came. My load is thick, sticky, globby. The first shot hit him in the eyes, the next his hair, then another blow covered his nose and chin, but it just kept pumping. Cream flew over his head on to his bed, then I tilted my prick down best I could as pleasure took over and I emptied on his shirt before he grabbed my cock and stuffed it back in his mouth.

He had no problem getting it down his throat as my cum kept pouring, filling his belly with my babies as I gasped and grunted. He started to suck again, desperate for as much of my sperm as he could swallow, and I felt myself go over a second edge. Even more spooge shot up from the last corner of my bollocks to feed him the remaining milk. He glugged it down greedily, swirling that tongue around my knob until it was too much pleasure.

I pulled away from him, falling back on his bed as he laughed, taking his phone out to grab a selfie while his face looked like a milk carton had just exploded all over him.

“Proud moment?” I asked.

“Damn right,” he replied. “Another one for the collection!”

“So did I pass?” I said, reaching for my shorts.

“Pass what?”

“The audition,” I told him. “To get in front of your camera!”

“Oh!”

He looked genuinely surprised as I stood, shaking the remaining splashes of jizz off over his face.

“Yeah you did. If you’re up for that?”

I looked down at my perfect pink cock and shrugged. “Be a shame to keep this baby to myself, wouldn’t it?”

1

His office was at home. In a normal terraced house on a normal terraced street. After some extension work had been done on the back of Number 17 Tugmore Terrace there was more than enough room for Dr Cole Harrison to move his practice to his living space. Cole saw his home much like the people he treated – work in progress. He’d been happy with the place for the past six months but what he really wanted now was a new wet room and claw foot bath tub, and that’s what the lads were working on out back whilst his clients came round to see him and pay him handsomely for his CBT therapy expertise. They’d been working on the new extension since last week, but Cole had been so slammed with work he’d not even had the chance to meet the men making his wet room dream come true.

Cole had a bulging client list, so every day was the same – pretty much full of back to back appointments. Navigating the noise of renovations around a steady stream of people confessing their deepest darkest secrets and anxieties had been… interesting. But Cole loved a challenge. Cole was thirty-eight, six foot two, dirty blond with an effortlessly sculpted beard that framed an impeccably square jaw. He hit the gym three mornings a week, turning heads in his tight-fitting clingy grey shorts that hugged his bubble ass and showed off a girthy seven-inch tool nestled in a jock beneath the straining fabric. He liked to show off the hairy abs, the ass and the cock in the showers, carrying an air of confidence that never strayed into arrogance but always reminded people he was an alpha in every way.

Home from the gym on a dull Monday morning, he tipped a wink to the handsome daddy from down the road who was off for his morning stroll. He noticed the daddy’s eyes lingering on his ass, fresh and clean out of the grey shorts and now nestled in a pair of tight blue jeans, and he showed it off with a smile as he entered his house, wondering if the workmen had showed up yet to help build his dream bathroom. Throwing his keys down on the side cabinet, he passed his spacious, minimalist living room and headed straight into his office at the back of the house. His style was formal. No stereotypical leather sofa to recline on whilst unburdening yourself. A chunky wooden desk instead, a line of books across three floating cases on the walls, a stack of self-help books atop the desk with a Newton’s Cradle his only concession to ‘typical shrink’.

Pulling his work phone out of his desk he found a voicemail waiting for him. Intrigued, he set the Newton’s Cradle in motion, the balls knocking playfully, and started the message. He paced the room as he listened to the gruff masculine voice on loudspeaker.

“Hi Doc, it’s Marco. I did what you said. I was brave.”

Cole smiled to himself, his blue eyes twinkling in the stream of sun that fell across the room.

“I told Ethan how I feel,” Marco continued. “I saw him in the staff room, asked him if we could go somewhere private and… yeah. I told him! I even admitted that it was me who… stole his underwear at the gym…”

Cole stopped in his tracks, feeling his bulge straining in his jeans at the mere thought of what his client was telling him. Marco was an underwear-sniffer, obsessed with a guy he worked with. Cole’s mission in life was to encourage his clients to be as dirty as they wanted, as long as nobody was being hurt. To follow their base instincts and not conform to what a heteronormative society dictated should be the path they follow with their sexual expression.

“He blushed, Doc,” Marco continued. “I’ve never seen him like that, he’s always so cocky, so… in charge. But he blushed. He was like “Why would you do that?” and I just blurted it out. “I’ve fancied you for ages and I… I wanted to be dirty and naughty and… I’m sorry if that freaks you out.” But he told me he thought it was kinda hot!”

Cole nodded, impressed, and felt the swelling increase in his trousers. Reaching down, he unzipped his jeans and pulled his meaty schlong out, the thick juicy foreskin retreating to reveal a glistening pink bell end.

“He asked me if I liked the way they smelled and I told him I did. Especially that bit under his balls. It was so weird Doc, I felt the room get warmer. It was the photocopying room so it’s only small anyway. But then he… he kissed me!”

“Nice,” Cole murmured as he gently stroked his hardening tool.

“He said he’d been wanting to fuck me for ages but thought I wasn’t interested! I think it’s something to do with what you said about, like, my confidence and how if I believe something about myself then that’s what I put out there. And I never believed I could pull a guy like him so that’s what he believed too. But after our last talk and… you helping me to appreciate my kink and my… my own body… something’s changed. And you won’t believe this but… fuck Doc. We locked the door and he asked me if I wanted to smell the real thing.”

Cole felt a murmur of pleasure escape his lips as he massaged the first blob of pre out of his slowly gaping slit.

“So… I said yeah and he… he pulled his trousers down and I got on my knees and fuck Doc… he flopped his big baggy balls on my face. Smeared me with his ball sweat. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced Doc. His dick’s so big too. Fat and brown and juicy and… he smeared my face with his pre cum Doc, left snail trail all over me right there in the photocopying room! I wanted to suck him and swallow his load but someone knocked at the door and we both bottled it. But it’s a start and it’s thanks to you! Thank you so much!”

Cole beamed, flushing with happiness at having encouraged such filth to take place in a boring city centre solicitor’s office. He continued to stroke his cock as the message ended, and then moved on to the next in the queue. A softer voice replaced the last.

“Hi Cole it’s Aslan. I just wanted to say thank you so much for the session yesterday.”

Hearing Aslan’s voice, remembering the session he was referring to, Cole felt his prick throb.

“I hope I didn’t make too much of a mess of your desk,” Aslan laughed. “But I can’t wait to get face down on it again to be honest. You really got, erm, deep to the root of my issues. Deeper than anyone’s ever gone. I guess you could tell that when I just came hands free all over your books. Sorry again, I have never done that before.”

The mental image of the Asian guy’s hairy asshole stretching around his hand, the throb of his hot hole engulfing him, the heartbeat meeting his knuckles as he delved deep into the chasm, the filthiest muscle memories, almost made Cole respond in the same way, a gush of precum pouring from his cock.

“But yeah I’d definitely like the same deep exploration next time, if that’s possible… I know this is a bit cheeky but would you be available today?”

Cole sniggered, enjoying the eagerness Aslan was showing to have a repeat performance. He’d found, much to his delight, that sometimes unlocking someone’s deepest sexual anxieties was a more literal and visceral experience. Many of the men he treated just needed to be opened up right here in the room, and Cole was only too happy to assist. Closing his eyes, he cast his mind back to Aslan crying out ‘fuck I’m gonna cum!’ Lost in the memory, Cole was on the verge of emptying his bulging sack all over the rug when a crashing bang stopped him in his tracks.

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I’ve always thought our landlord was hot. He’s of Iranian descent, over six feet tall, built like a brick shit house with a handsome hairy face, oh… and he wears some of the tightest jeans I’ve seen this side of the 80s. His name’s Al, short for Alborz, and me and my boyfriend Steve jokingly call him Al-balls because you can always see them through the ridiculously tight denim he packs them into. We joke a lot that we’d gladly pay him rent in kind, but we know this is real life and things like that don’t happen.

Steve had gone to Scotland to see his mum for the weekend and I was left alone. I’m Rich by the way. Slightly chunky, hairy arse bear with a dirty sense of humour and a very dull job working for the civil service. A couple of years ago Steve and I moved into this house which we planned to buy but then one thing happened after another and here we are still rent boys. It suits us – we might need to run away and start a new life in Sitges at any given moment. But until then we plod along.

We have our fun, although we’ve acknowledged being open and slutting it about the apps is something we need to partake in from time to time. Last weekend was one of those times. Alone, popper-bating to various gang bang videos online, I took to Grindr asking for a couple of tops to come over and rail me senseless. Trying to find a top around here can be challenging but for once Grindr came up trumps when a couple of lads got in touch. They were a couple who were out cruising together at the nearby woods. I never go down there because I’m scared of getting arrested, but I’ve heard there’s plenty of fun to be had. Today was a shit day there by all accounts so these two had big fat loads they were yet to blow. A quick flash of my chunky hairy mounds in a jock, not to mention their dick pics (one was thick, cut and 7 inches, the other uncut and 7.5), and they were pulling up outside my house.

I drew the curtains, planning to entertain them in the living room. I have a certain routine that turns me on more than anything else, and that’s to leave the door on the latch and get face down ass up on the sofa in my jock. I love the anonymity of randoms just walking into the room and unloading in my chubby bum, no questions asked.

My front door is a pain in the behind and won’t close properly unless you turn the handle upward. I made sure I told the lads this as we fired messages back and forth. I heard the door go and my dick swelled in my jock as I dropped my chest to the sofa and pushed my bum in the air. A slam of the front door, some murmurs of excited voices and the living room door swung open. I had my back to them but have a massive floor length mirror on the opposite wall so could see who was about to fuck me up the arse.

Two handsome lads stood there. One was in a track suit, the other in jeans and a t-shirt. I have no idea what their names were so we’ll call them Blondie and Ginger – for obvious reasons. They were pretty quiet as I murmured a ‘hi’ and they started to strip out of their trousers. I beckoned Ginger closer as he stepped out of his Pringle boxers to reveal a juicy bouncing 7 inches that went straight in my hungry mouth. I love feeling a guy get even harder in my expert gob and that’s what happened as I slurped hungrily on his prick. I had no idea what Blondie was up to but soon found out when I felt the hot wetness of a tongue find my sphincter. I moaned in delight as he started to rim me deep, running a hand underneath to my hard dick in my jock. He groped me gently as his tongue searched my depths, going deeper than I expected to lube up my tight chute.

It wasn’t long before I felt his bulbous head prodding my opening whilst I throated Ginger’s tasty cock. There’s something about a ginger guy. A mate of mine once told me, “Ginger balls smell like pancake mix.” And he was so weirdly accurate! I nestled my nose in them, slurping on them and giving his hot ginger gonads a tongue bath. He pushed his cock deep down my throat in unison with his partner in crime who slid his length slowly into my hole. He hit my prostate like a bullseye and I groaned and spurted pre in my jock. The lads knew what to do, picking up a spit roast rhythm, one fucking either end. Blondie increased his pace, going hard and fast and lasting all of about five minutes before he groaned, “I’m gonna cum!”

“No!” I stopped him, clamping my hole tight around his bell end. “In my mouth!”

He laughed, pulling out and racing to the front of the sofa to aim that cock at my face. I could smell my own arse on it, which always makes me so fucking wet. I put the cock in my mouth and tugged on it as Ginger took Blondie’s place at my back door and started to shove that fat tool into my gaping cunt. Blondie gave one last grunt before his balls emptied their seed in my mouth. He was salty, and copious, my mouth overflowing with his nut until it ran down all over the rug.

Ginger started to plough me hard, slapping my arse and grabbing my hips to really go deep, my arse open and desperate for more abuse. Blondie rubbed my face with his wet bell end, coming down off his orgasmic high. Then Ginger beckoned him over, pulling him close until they were chest to chest. They shared a deep passionate snog as the ginger fucker pounded my whore hole. I could feel him banging quicker, deeper, harder, and knew it wouldn’t be long until he emptied inside me.

“Cum in my arse!” I groaned.

“I will,” he gasped between tongue wrestles with his fit blond mate. “Gonna fucking knock you up you slag!”

I reached down and pulled out my cock, jerking my soggy bell end as I felt the orgasm rise deep inside me. But then just as I was about blow my load… the door opened! I looked up at the mirror, shocked to find none other than Al the landlord stood there, his mouth agape at the sight before him.

“Al!” I cried, just as Ginger released a long guttural moan and dumped his seed deep inside my guts!

“I’m cumming!” Ginger cried out, too lost in the moment to respond to the intrusion.

The landlord stood rooted to the spot, staring at the sight before him in shock. Ginger pulled out fast and in my shock and surprise I sprayed his cum out my arsehole all over the wall, causing the two tops to stifle laughs.

Al stammered, “I came to check the smoke alarms and the door was open…” He stopped midway through his nervous speech and turned and rushed back out, leaving us in an awkward silence.

“We’ll go,” Blondie said as he and Ginger got their trousers on and hurried out.

I couldn’t help laughing as I climbed up off the couch, feeling the cum dripping out of my arse and down my legs. I turned to the mess splattered on the wall and quickly grabbed a towel to wipe it, worried what Al would say about me vandalising the paintwork with my own arse. The lads definitely left the house – I heard the door slam shut, but then a second later a knock at the living room door.

“You decent?” Al hadn’t left!

“Yes! Sorry come in.”

The door opened. Al looked sheepish as he entered. I pulled my shorts up to cover my soaked jock, an awkward grin spreading across my face.

“I’m so sorry Al.”

“No I… I would’ve knocked but the door was open.”

“Yeah it’s that doorhandle, remember I texted you about it? It… never mind.”

More awkwardness.

“Oh the stains came right off!” I said, gesturing to the wall.

“It’s… it’s fine. It’s none of my business what you do for fun. But while I’m here I thought I’d let you know I’m gonna have to put the rent up. I’ve tried to keep it low for you guys cos you’re good tenants but…”

“Right yeah. How much?”

I was dreading the reply. My eyes fell to his crotch as I waited, but then found myself distracted to see the traces of a big swollen log of man meant in there, battling for space against his huge bollocks.

“Hundred pound,” he said.

“Oh! Shit. Okay.”

“That gonna be a problem?” he asked. “Like I said I’ve tried to keep it low but… Mrs has got one on the way…”

“Straight people problems!” I joked.

He laughed. I laughed. The joke had taken some of the awkwardness out of the situation, but there was a different kind of tension taking its place as he looked down at the hard on still in my shorts. I looked down at it and gasped.

“Sorry! I didn’t get to cum so… sorry. I need to stop talking.”

“Yeah I should leave you to it. We can talk about the rent on the phone or…”

“Okay. Congrats on the baby and everything, I’m sure you’re both over the moon.”

“Sort of,” he joked. “Put it this way you’re getting more fun than I am right now! But anyway.”

He turned to go and my stomach jolted with excitement as I blurted out, “Drop the rent hike to fifty quid and I could sort that out for you!”

I threw it out there in a jokey tone but deep down I meant every word. He stopped half-way out the door and looked around at me in shock.

“Listen I’m not like that.”

“I know! Sorry I was joking. Sort of.”

He was starting to sweat as he stammered, “It’s all good whatever you wanna do to get off, mate, but-“

“You’re not gay I know.”

“I was gonna say I’d never take advantage!”

“Who’s taking advantage?” I quipped. “My mouth waters whenever I see that bulge!”

He looked down at his cock, then back to me, mouth open in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Especially right now,” I told him. “Looks like it’s pretty happy to see me and I was just getting started with those two. Was planning a bit of a slutty day, as you can probably tell.”

He started to laugh, looking away from me whilst his length grew in his jeans. “Okay I’m gonna leave you to your fun, maybe make sure they shut the door after themselves-“

“Or maybe fix it for me.”

“The door or…?”

His words hung in the air and our eyes met. I looked down at the cock bulging through his flimsy denim, then I turned around so my back was to him, hiked down my shorts and presented my chunky hairy bubble, smeared with lube and cum.

“You decide,” I replied.

“Right. See ya.”

“Okay,” I told him. “I’m gonna just get on the couch, face down arse up. And if someone comes in and fucks me senseless… I won’t see their face.”

“Good for you. Fill your boots.”

“Or you could fill my arse.” It was a reflex. I couldn’t help it.

He laughed and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. It’s funny, I’d just been told my rent was going up, my head was spinning with anxiety and worries about how on earth we’d afford it – but my hole was quivering at the thought of his big brown cock ravaging it. I hadn’t heard the front door close so I knew he must be outside in the hall, considering his options! I kicked my shorts off, went back to the sofa and assumed the position. Face down, my arse pointed skyward and my cheeks spread – the air blew gently on my wet hole and it made my hard cock tingle.

Slowly I reached down between my legs and started to finger my soggy gape, moaning loud knowing full well he’d be able to hear me. I slid a second finger inside, hitting the knuckle and playing with my slimed prostate, feeling my dick reach its full six inches in the jock. But then just as my hopes were raised – I heard the front door close. Gutted, I decided to sort myself out and pulled my cock out of its confines. I started to squeeze the bell end and my fist was soon pumping. I’d had two hot loads already so it’s not like it had been a waste of a day!

But then just as I got into my stride… the living room door began to open! My heart pounded, my eyes widened and my balls were on the verge of erupting just at the thought of him coming in to screw me. I took my hand away from my engorged knob, holding on to the load for as long as I could. Movement behind me – the rub of denim, the fall of boots on the wooden floor. Silence for a moment other than the sound of his breathing, heavy, fast… Could I even hear his heart pounding or was it my own? I closed my eyes and buried my face deeper in the cushions, reaching back and spreading my arse cheeks obscenely so my gape was winking right at him.

The fumble of a belt buckle, and then the sound of a zip. It was happening. It was really happening. That fat monster I’d only ogled through denim was about to be unleashed on my fuckhole! I slapped my own arse, slowly gyrating it, begging for him to use it. Then suddenly I felt the fat heavy wet log slapping on arse cheek.

“Let me taste it,” I whispered.

He moved forward, grabbing one of the cushions and placing it over my head so I couldn’t see him. It made it all the more hot and horny as a fat, cut, brown cock with a dark red bell end slid under the fabric towards my waiting mouth. His musk engulfed me as he leaned forward and pushed his cock down my eager throat. I felt the weight of his big frame lean on the sofa as he started to piston in and out of my mouth. I throated it good, making sure to gag and choke so he knew he was far too big a man for little me. Nothing turns the straight men on like being made to feel superior. The more I gagged, the more he thrust, grunting as he skullfucked me the way I knew he could never use his wife.

He pulled out, leaving me gasping in a pool of throat slime before going back to my hole. I heard him pulling his jeans clear of his feet and then he propped one foot up on the back of the sofa, keeping the other on the floor so he could lower that beast towards my hole. I peeked down under my arm pit to see a big hairy brown thigh shaking as he started to breach my sphincter with his huge bell end. It felt even fatter than it looked, stretching my ring to its limits as he used Ginger’s load as lube to slide in.

Inch by inch it filled me, pushing past my prostate deep into my anus before one last ram sent it through my second ring. I gasped out loud and he grunted again before starting to heave his big frame up… and down. Up and down, up and down, each pound rattled my bones and drove me further into the sofa.

“Oh my fucking God!” I cried in ecstasy as he filled me with every inch. There wasn’t a part of my arse that wasn’t stuffed to breaking point by Al’s monstrous meat. He pounded hard, hitting his stride and living his fuck fantasy as months of frustration came out in each slam.

His skin slapped mine, echoing around the room as he picked up the pace. My balls were cooking up a storm as my prick escaped the jock and the piss slit spat out pre all over the cushions. He slapped my arse, banging me senseless and working up a sweat. The smell of his musk filled the air – his spicy pits kicking up a stink as he leaned down over me and pushed my head down so he could really use me like a fucking rag doll. His dick spat pre inside me to the point where it all began to run out with Ginger’s remaining sperms, the red hot fuck soup splattering noisily around his pistoning weapon. The heat took over, my head lost in the lust as my balls gave up the ghost.

I shot noisily, ruining the poor sofa, and hearing me go off made him pick up his pace to the point where I thought my arsehole would never close again. Suddenly he stopped, crying out as he exploded. Boiling semen filled my innards in five, six, seven ropes… but then it kept coming. He lost his shit, shaking, moaning as my poor hole clamped tight and milked more of his precious seed out of him. He must have been shooting that potent sperm for over a minute before he started his retreat.

The massive log plopped out of my cunt and brought half my anus out with it. I pushed a little rosebud out to show him what damage he’d done, splattering seed everywhere.

“Look what you did to my pussy!” I moaned.

There was no response. Just the sound of speedy fervent dressing before he turned and hot-footed it out of there. I gasped to catch my breath as I turned around, looking at the sheer amount of cum that was splashed on the sofa, the coffee table, the floor… Funny how my first thought was still, “What would the landlord say about the mess?”

My first priority was to call Steve and tell him every sordid detail. I gave him FOMO and a massive hard on which I promised to take care of when he gets home. But as I came off the phone I found a text message from Al. It read “Never mind about the rent. I’ll be calling in to check the smoke alarms again next week.”

My face lit up as I realised I’d just entered into a new contract with the landlord. One that would suit us both down to the ground…

OK so I moved in to number 13 Tugmore Terrace two months ago. Lucky me I got the big room overlooking the back yard so it’s pretty quiet, apart from when Gina downstairs decides to rehearse for a show. Right I should back up. I’m Curt, I’m 32, I work in an opticians and I broke up with my boyfriend last year when I found out he’d been cheating on me with MY ex. Let’s not go there. It was messy, that’s all you need to know. Anyway, I ended up with my tail between my legs staying with my folks who were all like “We knew he wasn’t right for you, honey.” Well fuck thanks mum, you could’ve told me before I got engaged to him, got a dog and moved into a new build red brick home miles away from everyone I knew and loved.

Suffice to say, I didn’t take well to living back at home. I didn’t love my mum doing my washing again – particularly my underwear – and constantly asking what a Nasty Pig was. I didn’t love my dad judging me for watching Strictly. I didn’t love not being able to accom on Grindr! Yes my heart was broken but my cock certainly wasn’t, although my arsehole could be after spending six months on the rebound.

Something had to give, and despite me saying house-shares aren’t for me, I decided to give this a go. It’s a six-bedroom house (attic conversion) and there’s just me, Gina the tap dancer and Alan the nurse who’s in the front upstairs room. So, the queue for the bathroom isn’t hideous and everyone’s on different shifts so we’re like passing ships. It’s kinda cute. I’ve got fairy lights up in the room, a cracking view of the cats fighting in the alley and Gina’s got a thing for cherry scented candles that waft up through the floorboards every now and then. So it’s all kinda working. Weirdly they’ve struggled to fill the rest of the house since I moved in.

That is until Billy came along.

I’d just got home from the gym when I met him, being shown around by the landlord. I heard the accent first. Northern Irish, deep voice, two things I love – so I was instantly intrigued. Then I saw him coming down the stairs – in grey sweatpants so it was literally bulge first. And what a bulge. He was dressed to the right and I could clearly make out the meat – including a pretty thick head resting on his balls.

“Oh, Curt, hi this is Billy.”

The landlord’s over excited about everything, it’s sort of borderline sweet irritating. So he’s like clapping his hands and talking too loudly as he introduces this short, wiry skinhead with really blue eyes and tight firm body in his white t-shirt. Nipples on point. Literally.

“I’m in the front room,” Billy said, a little shy.

“Oh amazing, it gets really sunny at the front,” was my response, trying to keep my eyes north of his waistline.

“Billy’s moving in at the end of the week,” the landlord said. “Sure you’ll give him a warm welcome!”

“Absolutely! We’re a nice friendly bunch,” I said, almost mimicking the landlord’s singsong tone.

“Nice one,” Billy muttered with an awkward smile before he headed out.

I had to clock his arse on his way out and it didn’t disappoint. Small but round. Tight. I was getting straight vibes off him in the way he carried himself so I popped him into the wank bank and decided that’s all he was ever going to be. I don’t go down that straight curious road, I’ve seen too many friends get their heads fucked with and their hearts bruised for ignoring the red flags. So that was that. I anticipated seeing him come out of the bathroom in his boxers or dripping wet in a towel and that was more than enough. Well. Sort of.

He moved in on the Friday. I was out straight from work with the girls from the office. Straight-hell.com in all the 70s bars and even a Wetherspoons. I considered going to gay town on my own but when it came to the end of the night my spirit had been broken. The endless sounds of Ed Sheeran and Adele, not to mention being dragged up to dance whenever anything remotely gay came on, meant that all I had the willpower for was a kebab on the way home. The queue in the kebab shop was too long so I got myself in a drunken bad mood and threw myself into a taxi, meaning I was going home hungry. I staggered in, trying to keep the noise down and failing miserably as I decided the most important thing in the world at that point was to make myself a piece of toast. I clattered around the kitchen until my elbow caught a container full of cutlery and it hit the floor very noisily. Giggling to myself I knelt down to scoop everything up, and was in the middle of clearing up my mess when a pair of white socked feet appeared in front of me.

My eyes travelled up strong, hairy legs to a massive bulge in grey boxer briefs right in line with my face. Drunk as I was I still recognised that same massive bell end nestled in a juicy pair of balls. I followed a treasure trail of hair up his tight abs to his heaving pecs and pointed nipples and saw a tired but happy face staring down at me.

“Well if you are a burglar, you’re a pretty shite one,” he joked.

“I am so fucking sorry,” I replied, trying to pick up the last of the cutlery as he joined me, squatting down in front of me to scoop up the knives and forks.

“We’ve all been there mate, long as your night was worth the hangover!”

“No it was crap. Got dragged around a ton of straight bars.”

It was my not so subtle way of informing him I’m a big queer. He didn’t flinch, he just helped me to my feet.

“Nightmare,” he laughed. “Reckon you’re just about ready for bed.”

“Whose?”

It was out there before I could even think. He just laughed and patted me on the shoulder, backing off.

“Try not to trash the place, yeah?”

And he was gone, his tight bubble bum shaking as he went back to bed. I felt mortification begin to creep in. He’d lived in the house less than a day and I’d already pretty much come on to him. Halfway between convincing myself he’d move out tomorrow and preparing myself to face some sort of sexual harassment charge I passed out on my bed.

I woke the next day to a throbbing headache, the driest mouth this side of the Gobi desert and the repeated tapping of Gina rehearsing downstairs. The perfect storm to make me feel like absolute shit – and the icing on the cake was opening my bedroom door to the sight of Billy coming out of the bathroom in the much-anticipated towel, his body dripping with water.

“Hey how are ya?”

“I… yeah I…”

“Forget about it. Friday night. You’re allowed to get hammered.”

“No but… sorry I’m mortified, if I said anything-“

“You said nothing that made sense which is what I’d expect so it’s all gravy. Bathroom’s all yours. Hopefully you won’t be on your knees!”

I admired his choice of words as he headed off to the box room. I couldn’t resist a glimpse inside and was surprised to see it was immaculate – all his boxes and belongings in perfect order. Nothing like the organised chaos of my living space. Distracting myself from the throb in my head and the sick in my stomach, I ruminated on whether he had a military past or maybe even jail – I had an uncle once who went to jail and came out with the most OCD approach to his living quarters – but then the thought of him splayed on a prison bunk with his fat Irish tool in his hand brought on the hangover horn. I spent fifteen minutes in the shower cranking out a load from my own seven inches, watching the pearls of cum splatter the tiles before being washed away.

The wank put paid to the nausea of my hangover but I was still good for nothing most the day, trying to watch some shit on Netflix but dozing in and out of consciousness until a good four hour sleep claimed me. It was night-time when I finally woke up – and the smell was what hit me first. Pizza. Life-giving pizza! My stomach gurgled at the first whiff. I had to know where it was coming from! Opening the door I found a pizza box sat on the floor with a note scribbled on it. “RECKON YOU NEED THIS MORE THAN ME! B”

Gobsmacked, I opened it to find the last few slices of a meat feast waiting for me. Box room Billy was an absolute fucking legend! I ran to his bedroom door and hammered on it to thank him – but no response. It was locked. No sound inside. He’d obviously gone out. The pizza was cold so who knows how long ago he’d left it? Either way, priorities! I tucked into it and devoured it in the space of five minutes, marvelling at just how sweet and thoughtful this lad was! To be honest it was the first time a guy had looked out for me like that since it all went tits up with the ex. I swear I wasn’t, like, falling for him on the basis of a cold half eaten pizza. But I was starting to feel bad for objectifying him so much. There was obviously more to Billy than just a swinging big dick and tight abs. After polishing off the pizza I flipped the box over and wrote on it “YOU ARE A LIFE SAVER!” and sweated on whether to put a kiss on the end or not. I caved to my temptation – blame it on the remaining gin in my system, but I signed it with a big fat ‘X’ and left it at his door…

I didn’t see Billy until the Monday morning after. I’d had to spend time with the folks and the fag hags so was hardly home. But when I ran into him he was coming off the phone, clearly pissed off having been let down on ‘a job’. It prompted me to ask him what he did and he told me he was in a tarmac gang, but they were always fucking him round. Grunting that he needed a pint, he asked if I wanted to join him in the pub that’s literally two streets away. I don’t kid myself that I’m subtle in any way, so I jumped at the chance!

Over a couple of pints of Guinness he told me he was ex-army. No my eyes didn’t pop out of my head to the sound of ‘ding ding ding jackpot’, but I can’t deny that my arsehole twitched ever so slightly. Especially when he told me he’d just broke up with a girl. He joked that she was boring anyway, far too vanilla. I was intrigued.

“So… vanilla in bed or…?”

“Bed was the only place she’d fucking do it, mate, and always the same position. If I asked for a bit of doggie or a sneaky peg she looked at me like I’d just slapped her grandma!”

We both erupted in laughter, drawing looks from the three other people in the bar.

“I bet her grandma loves a slap,” I replied, and he howled with laughter.

If the ice had been more broken it would be slush. Funny how insinuating his ex’s grandma was a kinky bitch endeared me to him but there we go. The pub became a regular thing. We’d go there to bitch about our housemates, about work, about our exes. The more I chatted to him the more I became a little bit besotted with him. He was vulnerable, funny, soulful, but mostly I just wanted to get between his legs and worship him at any given opportunity.

The first one came up on Valentine’s night. Both of us were joking about being sad and single and went and got smashed at the pub. Back at the house, Gina was on tour with her tap troupe and Alan the nurse was on lates so we commandeered the shared living space, ordered pizza and had an anti-Valentines night watching horror movies. During one of the slashers there was a big-titted blond getting railed from behind just before she and her man met their grisly end. I noticed Billy fidgeting in his seat, fixing the bulge in his loose grey shorts. I instantly twitched to life at the sight of it, and decided to be brave, uttering…

“Lucky bitch.”

He scoffed, looked around at me and asked me, “What, that’s how you like it?”

“What can I say?” I replied. “Sometimes I just want some straight guy to rearrange my guts.”

“Jesus man.” He laughed, awkward.

“Sorry, too much? No more beer for me.” I pushed my bottle away, at which point he looked me in the eye, took the bottle and slid it back towards me.

“No,” he said. “It’s… it’s cool.”

He sat forward to get another drink and quite visibly pushed the log growing in his shorts to one side. We both howled and cringed as the girl and her boyfriend were skewered.

“Why do they always have to get sliced up after a shag!” he laughed.

“Punishment for having such a good time,” was my response. “It’s what the world wants to see!”

“Why though?”

“Cos we’re all so hung up on everything,” I joked. “We feel so guilty about just doing what feels good that we think we should pay for it. Like… when’s the last time you just thought ‘fuck it, this will make me feel good so I’m doing it, guilt-free!’

“Fucking never. Actually… Amsterdam.”

“Oh yeah? Lots of good stories start that way!”

“No I was on leave with some of the lads. Bunch of us squaddies let loose in the red light area, can you imagine?”

“I’m leaking at the thought.”

“Fuck off you slag!” he laughed, play-punching me in the arm. “But yeah we all went with a hooker each and I ended up with this trans girl.”

“Seriously? Did she have, y’know…”

“Well I told them she didn’t but yeah. She had a fucking dick.”

“Oh my god. And did you… y’know…”

“I fucked her up the arse.”

I immediately spat my beer out, my dick hardening in an instant.

“But while I was doing it I… ‘er… did a reach around.”

“A what?”

“Wanked her off. Or him. Or-“

“Her,” I said. “Go with her.”

“Yeah whatever but I wanked her cock til she came all over the bed.”

He laughed, fixing his crotch again. I could see the bulge was straining against the cotton. There was a weird stillness that fell over the room. An atmosphere, heat in the air.

“And… you liked it?”

“Liked it? Mate I shot my load so hard I thought I’d pass out.”

“That is so hot, can’t lie.”

“Yeah well try telling my Mrs that. It was before I even met her but I could never tell her something like that, I mean, she freaked out when I asked her to rim me!”

I slammed my bottle down on hearing that, my eyes wide, my lips wet with beer. “Wait. You… you asked her to eat your arse?”

“Yeah. See it on porn all the time, girls do it to fellas and it’s hot, right? It’s dirty.”

“Too right it’s hot,” I scoffed. “It’s my favourite thing to do.”

His eyes met mine. I swear I could hear his heart pounding in his chest but then it was probably my own. He gulped down more beer.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why what?”

“Well why do you like it so much?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded. I’d had four beers. My knob was pulsating in my pants with every little push I made with this conversation. So I thought, in for a penny.

“The smell,” I admitted.

He laughed, nervous.

“Seriously? You like the way a fella’s arse smells?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I mean… to a point. But… that smell you get, end of the day, it’s been hot, sweaty, you scratch your crack, your finger touches your hole and you have a sneaky smell of it, and it’s not shit but… y’know.”

He just nodded, silently.

“Well that’s what I like!” I continued. “Bet you’re sorry you asked now, aren’t you?”

“Kinda,” he joked, before tapping his hard-on.

By now there was a wet stain emerging in the grey shorts. He was precumming purely from the filth I was telling him.

“Maybe I should’ve got that hooker to rim me,” he said. “Missed my chance there.”

“Maybe not.”

“Ey?”

“Never too late to get your arse munched, Billy.”

I held his gaze, unsure of where this bravado was coming from. Looking back it was definitely the beer. He just laughed it off but I wasn’t letting it go. I edged closer to him.

“Seriously,” I went on. “If it feels good, why not? Lose the shorts and we could…”

I shakily reached over and placed my hand on his thigh. He didn’t budge. He didn’t breathe. And then suddenly he was moving away. My heart sank, my stomach did a somersault and I broke into an anxious sweat as Billy stood, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

“I should hit the sack.”

“Shit Billy I-“

“It’s all good man. I’m just pooped. Night yeah?”

And he was off out the door, leaving me utterly horrified at how I’d behaved. Was I some pervert, some letch? Had I totally pushed myself on to someone and ruined a new friendship? But then I remembered the hard-on, the looks, him choosing to tell me he’d wanked a cock. I was a mass of anxiety, guilt and annoyance. And the fucking horror film was doing my head in so I knocked it off, left in silence. Just me and my whirling brain… until another sound caught my attention.

It was Billy’s voice. And he was calling from upstairs.

“Curt? Can you come up here a sec?”

Confused, I downed the last of my beer and headed upstairs wondering what the hell he was after now. I padded along the landing to the box room at the front where his bedroom door was open. And I was shocked when I realised what Billy was doing. I found him on his bed, face down, ass up, shorts in a pile on the floor next to him. His pert round arse was spread in front of me, smooth on the cheeks with a cleft of hair down the crack.

“It’s not gonna eat itself, mate.”

I couldn’t not laugh. His tone was the same as when we were sharing dirty jokes and stories in the pub. But I could see he was slowly tugging at his hard nine incher as he held his hole in the air and I knew he was deadly serious. I didn’t need asking twice. My own cock throbbing in my track suit bottoms, I moved forward into his room, climbed on to the bed and slowly stroked his cheeks. My hands trembled. His hot skin seemed to tingle under them. Slowly I leaned my head forward, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of his arse. The hairs held the richest aroma of manliness I’d experienced in a long time. A musty spice that came from being trapped between his mounds all day. I blew on the hairs and heard him sigh, knowing that what I was about to do was going to blow his mind.

I reached underneath and held his hot throbbing cock in my hand. It was gushing pre already. I thought I’d start him off with my favourite thing to do. I followed the vein down the underneath of his shaft to his bulbous – and I mean BIG – bell end, slathered it with my tongue, then traced my tongue right back up the vein, to his hairy ball sack, along his ripe taint and into the crevice where it met his winking hole. He was so vocal, moaning, laughing in delight as I repeated it, tasting his cock, balls and hole in one fell swoop. The taste of his hole didn’t disappoint. He was ripe as fuck – exactly how I like it. But the taste of sweat and butt juice and the remainders of a hasty fingering with the Radox shower gel was so hypnotic it dragged my tongue deeper into his chute.

Each moan he made coaxed my tongue deeper, slowly tugging on his cock and pumping more of his clear fuck juice out on to his duvet. I scooped up the puddle and rubbed it into his crack before slobbering my tongue in and out, up and down, side to side. I chewed his cheeks, spat on his shitter, spread those mounds wide and got him to pucker the hole out. When he did I locked my lips around his ring and sucked on it, sending him wild. As the hole flowered in my mouth I drove my tongue into its sweet centre, sucking and tongue fucking it at the same time.

He reached back and pushed my head further into his hairy trench. I couldn’t get enough of him, rubbing my face up and down with the sole intention of carrying his scent around for the rest of my life. Slowly I stroked his nine inches while I made out with his man cunt, wanting to get so deep my head was inside him.

“I’m so close!” he moaned.

“Not yet. Flip over.”

He quickly turned over and I realised it was the first time he’d looked at me while we were doing this. It was intense. His eyes were glazed over like he was on drugs, his face covered with the biggest smile. His nine inches hit me in the face, and I shifted so I was side on, coming down on the cock from an angle so it would slide all the way down my throat. I went down to the balls slowly, coughing up some beer as I went. But he didn’t mind the mess, pushing my head down and groaning in sheer delight that I could throat his python.

“Fucking hell man!”

I just gave a grunt of agreement then pulled off his cock, a string of throat slime hanging between us. “Yes,” I said. “I am that good.” We laughed in unison before I went up and down on that cock with gusto. He wasn’t laughing now, he was moaning in abandon, head thrown back, body twitching under me. It was messy, sloppy, noisy, his balls covered in my throat slime which I rubbed into his hole. He took the hint, hooked his hands under his knees and rolled back so I could keep eating his sweet man snatch whilst slipping and sliding all over that monster cock of his.

My own cock was straining in my track suit bottoms and I was positioned so it was up near his chest. As I tongued his hole I felt his hand slide inside my bottoms and starts to tug furiously at my own prick. I was so wet and he was so slicked up the room filled with the sound of squelching as we worked each other into a frenzy. He gripped my shaft and slid it between his own lips and I could have blown my load right there just to think this straight Irish ex squaddie was sucking on my knob end.

I pulled away.

“Sorry was it my teeth?”

“No I don’t wanna cum yet!” I laughed.

“Mate I need to blow!” he groaned.

“OK. Do it inside me,” was my response.

With that I leaned forward, yanking my trousers off and spreading my own pert white arse.

“Seriously? You want me to fuck you? My girl could never take this up her arse.”

“Just shut up and rearrange my guts, Billy.”

He laughed, slapping my arse in a locker room horseplay fashion that was possibly the most heterosexual thing I’d ever felt. Needless to say it made my dick pour with precum.

“Wait, we’ll need lube,” I said.

I was about to get up and go get it when I felt the first swipe of something hot and wet on my sphincter. Billy was eating my hole! I groaned in delight as he followed my lead and started to tongue punch my anus. I’m smoother than him which probably helped him treat it like a pussy. But he got stuck in like a pro. The tongue went deep, he spat all over the crack and slid his fingers in, eliciting moans from me that made him stop to make sure I was okay. I was more than okay. Between his precum and mine, there was enough lube for him to position that meaty mammoth of a head at my pucker.

“Slow,” I uttered.

“Okay baby,” he said. “I’ll be gentle.”

BABY. He called me fucking baby and I nearly died. High on the tone of his voice, it was like I’d huffed poppers as my hole gaped for him. As the knob pushed past my ring I felt my entire arse stretch. His nine inches were taking their sweet time filling my cunt and the pressure was sending pre pissing out of my tool all over his bed. I released a long non-stop groan as he went in to the balls, crying out in pleasure as my anal walls gave him the BJ of his life.

“Fuck me Billy.”

And he did. Gripping my hips he drove that shaft deep into my guts, easily breaking through my second ring and making my whole body shake. I held on to the bedding as he pumped me hard. We worked up a sweat together, the drips from his nose hitting my back as he yanked me by the hair and pulled me back into his arms.

HE CALLED ME BABY!

That’s all I could think as I rode on that flesh tube, milking that dick in a way I knew no girl ever had. His eyes were rolling back in his head, he was suddenly silent and I knew there wasn’t long left until he flooded my guts with his seed. We bounced together on the bed, wet flesh slapping wet flesh, grunts, squelches, sighs. A cacophony of sex noise as he started to say the same word over and over.

“Jeez. Jeez. Jeez. JEEEEEZ.”

I laughed in delight as I felt him spasm inside me, reaching around and jerking my cock as he unloaded those straight Irish balls deep inside my chasm. His hand slowed on my cock and I warned him not to stop. Suddenly he was wanking me fast and hard until I felt those tingles in my toes and my balls and I lost my load all over his bed.

I pulled off his cock and let the cum flow from my hole all over his balls as he groaned in delight.

“Wow that’s a lot of cum,” he sighed.

“Fuckkkk,” I moaned as he scooped it up and fed it to me, before rubbing it in my face like a naughty older brother.

We both fell into fits of laughter, any awkwardness completely out the window as he pushed me down on the bed, looked me in the eyes and said “You dirty little fucker.”

I went to kiss him but he pulled away, scratched his balls and asked if there was any pizza left. There was. Just the one slice… but we shared it. And at one point he even fed some to me. I’m not kidding. I don’t know where this is going but right now I don’t give a shit. He called me baby and he bred me until I couldn’t stop shitting cum. This could be love!

Read Part Two of Billy and Curt’s story here:

Will Gemser's Gay Erotica

Banging In The Box Room, Part Two

I wasn’t lying when I told Billy the front room in our shared house was the one that got all the sun. I woke to the sound of seagulls. Absolute fucking monsters. If a bird could get an ASBO it would be a seagull – utter moronic thugs good for nothing but stealing your chips and shitting all over you. And, as it would seem, squawking so loud it wakes you from a deep, post-orgasmic sleep. We’d slept with the windows open after a night of pizza and buggery had left us sweating in a bubble of manly musk. As my eyes blinked open they were greeted by a beautiful sight…

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24 days ago · 13 likes · Will Gemser, Author

David Curry was fuming. He’d been called out last minute to do a house visit for an old guy on Tugmore Terrace which was the other side of the city from where he would usually cover. He lived to help people. He wouldn’t be a district nurse if that wasn’t the case. But he resented having to go out of his way because his colleague Martha had called in sick just so she could spend the day trying to get tickets to see Taylor fucking Swift! If it had been Bruce Springsteen or even Oasis David might have forgiven her. But Taylor Swift?

He tried to shake off his ire as he drove across town to the home of Harry Bloom. Sixty-eight, injured in an accident in the local park, laid up with a broken foot and in need of his dressing changed. It seemed pretty straightforward. He looked at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Stubbled, chunky, handsome with twinkly blue eyes, David had the kind of lips made for kissing, constantly puckered to the point where people asked him if he’d had them done. He hadn’t, but he had to admit they came in handy for other activities. He fixed his messy brown hair as he drove. He always believed you should make an effort when going to someone’s home – even though plenty of the people he visited didn’t afford him the same courtesy.

Nearing Tugmore Terrace he found himself hoping Harry Bloom wasn’t a smelly one, or a hoarder, or a crazy cat man stinking of litter trays and piss. He was full of compassion and respect for the elderly and infirm – but there was only so much his sense of smell could take. The terraced street was your run of the mill leftie liberal Guardian-reading road. It was middle of the afternoon so not many cars parked – everyone out at work. The only signs of life were a window cleaner up a ladder and what appeared to be a postman coming out of a house fixing his trousers. David laughed to himself as he pondered what the story could possibly be there… but there was a job to be done.

Approaching number 74, he noticed some pretty impressive tomato plants adorning the step, filling the air with a scent that took him right back to his grandparents’ garden when he was a kid. They were well kept, as was the paintwork, the windows were spotless too. So far so promising! He rang the doorbell and waited a minute, checking his Grindr absent-mindedly. ‘GLORYHOLE NOW’ was mere feet away. On this quiet street?! Before he had time to ponder who it could be, the door opened and he met Harry Bloom.

“Oh. I was expecting the woman!”

When David saw Harry, he wanted to respond with “And I was expecting a frail scruffy old Yoda, not a fucking porn star!” but he held on to his tongue and made do with “Ah, Martha’s sick mate, you’re stuck with me today.”

Harry was six foot three, built like a wrestler, with a slightly craggy but handsome broad face, a very well-manicured white beard and inquisitive green eyes. He wore a red and black check dressing gown, tied at the waist with tufts of white chest hair on show.

“It’s a waste of time any of you coming,” he grouched. “I can do it myself, I’m not an invalid.”

“Yeah I can see that!”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at that and David laughed. “I mean, you got to the front door so quick! Oh well I’m here now, you might as well let me do what I do best!”

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked. “What’s that?”

His tone felt loaded with suggestion, but David put it from his mind. He was imagining things because dear old Harry was actually a bit of a snack. David was married to Warren, a chunky bus driver with a fat dick and the knack for cooking a cracking meal. He had no complaints. But his sweet spot – his Achilles heel – were big strapping daddies. It wasn’t often he came across them in his line of work so Harry had put him on the back foot.

As Harry showed him in, David found the place smelled of pipe smoke and leather. Something in the scent stirred David’s juices as he followed Harry into a cosy dark living room. He couldn’t help but notice the sway of Harry’s big ass under that dressing gown, the cotton falling between his cheeks suggesting Harry might be naked underneath the robe. David tried to shake the inappropriate thought off as he looked around the living room at leather furniture, cool black and white framed photographs of men in leather, and on the massive TV screen Harry had paused a film he was watching that had a handsome older guy in the middle of a sweaty fight scene, holding another hot guy in a headlock.

“I was admiring your tomato plants!” he said, feeling strangely nervous as Harry stood over him, arms folded.

“Off the allotment,” Harry said. “I’d usually be up there on a day like today.”

“Green fingered ey? Is that where you had your fall? On the allotment?”

“Not exactly,” Harry said with a smirk. “It was outdoors but it wasn’t there.”

“You must hate being cooped up like this if you’re used to getting out and about.”

“Not half!” Harry responded. “There’s only so many wanks a man can have.”

If David had had a drink in his mouth he’d have spat it out at that point. Harry just smirked, lowering himself down on to his leather recliner. He slowly lifted the afflicted foot to rest it on a footstool, his robe gaping a little between his thick hairy tree trunk legs. David did his level best to avoid looking in the direction of Harry’s crotch as he started to unpack his supplies.

“You replacing Martha permanently then?”

“Oh no I’m sure she’ll be back in a few days, don’t you worry.”

“Wasn’t worried,” Harry laughed. “She’s a pain in the arse. You know. Women.”

David was used to some of the outdated attitudes of his patients so just smiled and nodded in a non-committal manner. Martha was a royal pain but it was nothing to do with her being a woman. As he started to look at the dressing, Harry stretched, spreading his legs slightly.

“Prefer a feller anyway,” Harry continued. “Always did.”

“Well it’s your lucky day today!” David was trying to keep it light and jovial.

“Good lad,” Harry said, and something in his tone, and the words he used, sent an electric shock straight to David’s crotch.

“Just you here then?” David asked.

“At the minute yeah,” Harry replied. “Broke up with him a while back.”

Him. HIM. He was letting David know in no uncertain terms what side he was on.

“Ah that’s a shame.”

“No it’s not, he was a cunt.”

David sniggered, surprised as he looked up at a smiling Harry who was filling a pipe.

“Mind if I smoke, lad?”

“Course not.”

“Good job, it’s my house!”

“You’re the boss.”

David glanced up at Harry’s face to see him arch an eyebrow in response to that. Awkward, he busied himself. Harry’s feet were well cared for just like the rest of him. This was a man who looked after himself in every way. Apart from all the tobacco consumption, of course. And the broken bone…

“So how did you manage the break?”

“I was out in the woods down the road. You know. By the river?”

“Oh yeah? By the prom?”

“That’s the ones. You been?”

It couldn’t have been more loaded. Harry was referring to Otterswood Park, a sprawling old wooded area down the road from Tugmore Terrace that had been known for its gay cruising for decades. Truth be told, David had been years ago. A nervous teenager, he’d gone with a mate and had his first blow job from a much older guy whilst leaning shaky-legged against a tree. The dirty old fucker had sucked David so hard he nearly lost his soul to the guy’s throat. His cock twinged at the memory.

“Long time ago,” David said.

“Right yeah. Well it’s so close, it’s a shame for me not to use it, right?”

“Yeah gotta get that vitamin D, Harry.”

“All about the D, sunshine,” Harry growled before puffing on his pipe.

He spread his legs slightly more. David’s eyes travelled up his hairy calf to his succulent thigh, into the shadows that waited between his legs. The robe just covered him, put something twitched beneath it. David looked away. Harry’s eyes were fixed on him the whole time.

“But yeah I was down there with a friend. I say friend. It was the first time I’d met him in person. Lots of chat online but we’d only just managed to get together for a… a chat in the flesh.”

“Love a good chat.”

“Well to be fair he didn’t do much talking. His mouth was full most the time.”

“Oh was it a picnic?”

Harry burst out laughing, coughing a cloud of pipe smoke into the air. David looked up, trying to appear clueless and innocent, but he couldn’t help reflecting that smile right back at Harry.

“Yes. That’s exactly what it was. My friend was struggling with some scotch eggs.”

“Fuck off Harry.”

David burst out laughing. Harry’s deep and guttural laugh rang out as he shifted forward in his seat, lifting the other leg so the robe drifted up further.

“He looked a bit like you actually. Stocky, hairy, handsome. Eager to please.”

“You think I’m eager to please?”

“On your knees aren’t you?”

A heavy silence hung in the air, one pregnant with possibilities.

“He did please me I must say. He told me he had no gag reflex so I thought I’d put it to the test. He failed. Poor lad. But he did his best and he got rewarded. But just as he was wiping his face and his jacket… and his shorts… we heard it.”

“Heard what?”

“Some little scally fucker shouting ‘faggots’ at us through the trees. Gang of them on bikes, coming right at us.”

David stopped what he was doing, his mood shifting immediately. He looked up at Harry in concern, reading his face to see if he was pulling his leg. But Harry’s face was deadly serious, his eyes lost in a mix of anger and sadness.

“Oh we got away. But I decided it was a good idea to jump a fence. In my sixties. Smart arse, ey. Came down with a right crack.”

“Shit mate, that’s awful,” David sighed. “Why the fuck have people gotta do this shit to us?”

“Because we’re always gonna be unwanted guests at their party, sunshine,” Harry responded. “But I’ve dealt with worse than them in my time. They don’t get me down. They make me more determined to get up.”

“I like that.”

“Shine brighter. Laugh louder. Get harder.”

With that Harry flicked the hem of his robe to the side and David’s mouth fell agape at what he saw. A seriously thick lump of daddy meat was hard as a rock, stretching nine inches to the side of his stomach. Beneath it sat two of the fattest hairiest balls David had ever seen. They glistened with sweat, the trench of hair beneath them radiating an intoxicating smell that mingled with the smell of his tobacco pipe and the leather of the recliner.

“Harry, you should put that away.”

“See the thing is… I’d normally get down there once every couple of days and get some boy to worship this thing. Either trying to get it all in their mouth or inside their tight little shit box.”

His filthy words were making David start to leak in his pants.

“But with that stupid foot the way it is I’m having to rely on this…”

He held up his right hand.

“And that.”

With his left hand he grabbed the remote on the arm of the recliner, pressed a button and suddenly the TV sprang into action. The room was filled with the sound of moans as David turned to see the porno Harry had paused was coming back to life. A daddy fucking a younger guy hard over the side of a tractor.

“And the truth is, nothing hits the spot like a hot wet mouth and a pair of beautiful lips that were made to be sucking!”

He gripped his shaft and shook his bell end, squeezing out a blob of precum that started to edge its way down the thick vein on the underside of his thick monster. David was transfixed, using all of his restraint not to lunge in and lick the leakage up. Harry started to rub the precum over his bulbous head, making it slick as he slowly wanked inches from David’s face.

“Smell that? I’ve been playing all morning.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah lad. If you really wanna make yourself useful and help out a poor old man in need you could show me what those lips feel like.”

“Mate I’d get sacked.”

“As if I’m gonna complain. Come on. Be a good lad.”

There were those words again. “Good lad.” David edged forward until his lips were an inch or two from the shaft. He could smell the musk of those fat daddy bollocks that had been sat in their ball soup all morning, leaking their juice down into his hairy gooch. Harry slowly pushed the tip forward until it rested on David’s lips. He squeezed his bell end again until more precum oozed out and glossed the nurse’s puckered lips.

Harry moaned softly as he rubbed his wet spongey head back and forth across David’s mouth, his piercing eyes burning holes into David’s the whole time. The grunting fucking noises coming from the TV mixed with the smells coming from Harry’s big dad dong blended with the aroma of his tobacco pipe to heady effect. David felt a little dizzy, reaching into his own trousers to unleash his free flowing cock, by now stringy with excitement.

“Put it in your mouth lad.”

David nodded, gurgled like a baby waiting to be fed its milk, and stretched his thick lips around the spongey head, digging his tongue under the rolled back foreskin to scoop out the juice that had been waiting there for the best part of the morning. The salty filth made his tongue tingle as he nursed the oozing mushroom for a moment before slowly sliding his wet mouth down the pole. The musk of Harry’s bush beckoned him closer, and he followed his nose with no regard for his poor throat as he engulfed the throbbing fat tool with everything he had.

Harry threw his head back in pleasure as David showed off his skills, driving that cock way past his tonsils and down into his deep throat. The aromatic wiry hairs tickled his nose as he reached the base, his tongue just managing to lap at the balls. He relaxed his gag reflex so once the cock was embedded in his gullet Harry could use his throat like a fleshlight. David bounced his head up and down, twisting it around the shaft, encouraging Harry to use him. Harry took the cue, grabbed his ears and started to thrust.

“Yes boy, swallow daddy’s bone!”

It was all David could do not to blow his wad on the floor there and then but he held back, letting Harry skull fuck him. Harry railed his throat for what felt like an hour, David in a state of trance as he gave way to the piston-fucking and allowed his face to be used. His eyes streamed, his throat squelched around the invading cock, going deeper into a state of subservient bliss each time Harry called him his good boy. But then as he seemed to be nearing climax Harry stopped, releasing a gasping choking David who sat back, slobbering all over his clothes, eyes wet and red.

Harry looked him over with lust and pride, the mess he’d made was another string to his bow. Then he hoisted his free leg up.

“Suck my nuts boy.”

David dived straight in, his nose going deep into the two fat eggs that sat encased in that leathery skin. He savoured the stink of those dad balls as Harry sat back and puffed on his pipe, blowing smoke down at his rigid cock and into David’s face. David slobbered all over the balls, spitting, slurping, making it good and messy for Harry. The whole time Harry watched him approvingly, occasionally grabbing his prick and tapping it on David’s forehead as he went to work. He lifted the sack and drove his snout underneath, feasting on the hairy undercarriage that held a whole night’s worth of dad stink for him to savour. David’s right hand stroked up and down his own pole, each squeeze pouring more of his juices on to Harry’s wooden floor, and then he scooped up his pre and rubbed it all over Harry’s balls to add to the sticky meal he was devouring like it was his last. Harry pushed his cock further down towards David’s lapping tongue until David took the hint and engulfed it once more.

Gripping the shaft at the base, David went to town on the cock. His throat now used to the size of it, he picked up the pace, turbo tonguing the bell end as he went up and down, up and down, burying the cock all the way before shaking his head from side to side and growling to vibrate against the bell end.

“Yessss boy, you’re gonna make me blow!”

David groaned in pleasure, edging towards his own point of no return at the mere thought of those fat dad ‘nads emptying their batter down into his gut. He sucked harder and faster, pumping his own rod now so wet it sounded like he was fucking a pound of melted butter. The room stunk of cock, balls and tobacco as Harry locked in for the final climb up that hill he had conquered so many times before. But something was special now – David fitted his cock so well he knew he’d want it again, maybe even to bust open that fat hairy arse he knew was hidden in his trousers. The mere thought of David’s hole sent Harry off the cliff, and he grabbed the lad’s head and held it still as his balls start to spew that creamy lava directly down his throat. David spluttered, taking so much cum it started to fly out of his nostrils. His eyes bulged as Harry flooded him with sticky white batter, and before he knew it David was exploding his semen all over the floor. Harry growled loud enough to shake the windows, completely owning David’s mouth as he thrust one last spurt down his eager willing throat.

David fell back, coughing as he wiped the cum from his nose. Harry groaned as he flicked off the last of his load, splattering David’s face, both of them buzzing and a little dazed from how fast and intense the whole thing was. Harry broke the silence when he looked down at his broken foot and laughed.

“There’s cum all over the dressing!”

David found himself laughing hysterically as he went about re-dressing it whilst his dick still dripped from what had just happened. Not much was said before he left, a mere thank you and a nod of approval from Harry. But as David rushed to his car to get on with the day’s visits, he had a message from Martha apologising for landing him in it. On the plus side she’d managed to get her Taylor Swift tickets. But David was only too happy to report that it was no trouble at all. Quite the opposite in fact. He just hoped she pulled another sickie next week…

The extendable aqua spray pole changed my life! No, really. It meant I didn’t have to drag my ladders in and out of the van, risk my neck by climbing up two or three storeys on a windy day, or worse still deal with heights when hanging out my arse from a heavy night out. Okay I should explain – I’m a window cleaner. And my trusty spray pole meant I’d be done on my rounds by lunchtime so I could pack up, fuck off, and hit the gym.

I’m a bit of a gym head too. Six pack, decent guns, working on the pecs. My mates take the piss out of me because I pay so much attention to squats. But you’ve gotta balance out the top half with a good bottom half, right? That’s why they call me the Shane the Shelf. It is a big ass, I must admit. It’s constantly swallowing up my Calvins. I’ve always got a wedgie! I’ll often stand in front of the wall length mirror in the changing rooms and admire it from the side. I’m scouse through and through which means I look pure Irish. Dark hair, blue eyes, bit of stubble, some hair on my chest but the shelf is pretty smooth actually.

Sometimes the lads will give it a smack on the way past and make it wobble. One of them joked the other week I could have an OnlyFans with an ass like that. I’d just have to put a jockstrap on and twerk in front of the camera and the money would come rolling in! I think he had a point. Last year we went on a stag do to Benidorm for one of my mates’ birthdays. I thought it would be highly comical to wear a mankini. Hit the strip with it wedged up my big wobbling ass, and some gay guy asked for a photograph with me. I cocked one leg up on the bollard and the lad got on his knees and puckered up for the picture. Anyway, a month later one of the lads sent me a link to a Twitter post and it was my fucking ass in the mankini – and it had thousands of likes and shares. So I told my mate if the window cleaning ever got too much I’d look into it. Little did I know…

So back to the spray pole. My pride and joy! Until my nephew Danny came on the scene. So I’m thirty but I’ve got this nephew who’s 17 and was in need of some cash-in-hand work. His mum, my sister Lou, begged me to let him help out on the rounds so I eventually gave in. He’s a cheeky little scally, handsome devil just like his uncle Shane, but he’s also one lazy little shit. I told him a hundred times to collapse the pole properly before putting it back in the van but he didn’t listen and before I knew it, the thing was broken in half. We had a right barney over it, I called him a lazy little fucker and deducted the money it would take to get a new pole from his wages so in the end his two days’ work amounted to about twenty quid in his pocket. He stormed off in a mood and needless to say he hasn’t been back! If that doesn’t teach him a lesson about responsibility nothing will.

As a result, I had to go and do Tugmore Terrace – all two hundred houses – without the spray pole, dusting off the old ladders and going at it the classic way. Luckily it was a typical Spring day, dry and bright, not too windy, and I hadn’t had a skinful the night before so everything was looking pretty doable. I’d forgot just how much you could see into people’s bedrooms though and was taken by surprise a couple of times. Mainly looking at the state some people left their rooms in! Unmade beds, dirty clothes on the floor, peeling plaster work, there was even one bed covered in old pizza boxes. I suppose not everyone can be an OCD clean freak like me. But that was all small fry until I got to number 23.

Having only ever done his windows from the ground, the most I’d seen of the lad who lived there was handing him my original payment details and maybe once or twice doing yoga in his front room. Fit young lad, mixed race with green eyes, handsome, skinhead, tattoos, bit airy fairy. No offence, like, I imagined he was gay. Which was fine by me, each to their own, right? As a single lad I’ve enjoyed the attention from other men before and never really ruled anything out. Must admit when I’d seen him do his yoga it did amaze me how flexible he was, getting his legs back over his head. Pretty sure I’d got girls in that position before and had a whale of a time. In fact, seeing him once did trigger a memory. Me railing a pole dancer I’d met on Tinder, her wearing thigh high boots which were literally wrapped around her head while I pummelled her cunt until she actually squirted all over my abs. I got a semi on just thinking about it.

So I got to number 23, climbed up the ladder and when I reached his bedroom window the sight before me made me laugh out loud in shock. There was the tattooed lad, on his bed, face down ass up. He was naked, his mocha skin glistening with sweat, his dick rigid and dripping, rubbing a massive black dildo on his gaping ass in front of a propped-up phone that was filming him. I was so distracted I missed my footing, falling and slamming my face against the window. The lad dropped his dildo and looked at me in shock. Our eyes met and before I knew it I was slipping from the rung and gravity was dragging me down the ladder to the ground!

Grabbing on to the side of the ladder, I managed to fall in slow motion and avoid any nasty injuries when I landed at the bottom. Luckily there was nobody out on the street to see me because I must have looked a right mug. My heart pounded, my adrenaline soared, and before I knew what had happened the front door opened and the guy from inside was rushing my way in his tight grey briefs.

“Mate are you okay?”

I stood up with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m good it’s fine!”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“I could say the same to you!” I joked, but then suddenly my knees buckled. I felt the air being sucked from me and suddenly was so light-headed I had to grab on to him for support.

“Whoah, you’re not okay.”

I tried to argue I was fine but clearly I wasn’t. He scooped his arm around my waist and helped me up the steps into his house. I got a whiff of the cocoa butter he’d used on his skin and something stirred in me as I flopped my head against his chest. He wasn’t built like me but was clearly a strong guy being able to support me like he was. Must be all the yoga, I thought, imagining him spread eagled as he threw me down on his sofa. Flashes of him playing with that dildo mixed with the dizziness of my fainting was a heady combo – one that made me spring a boner in my grey joggers.

I came to on his sofa, in a room full of plants, with sage burning in the corner, and found my cock was throbbing so hard it ached. Instinctively I reached down to give it a squeeze just as he came walking in with a cup in hand, still in his briefs.

“Coffee with a gazillion sugars,” he said. “Oh. Sorry.”

His eyes were on my bulge. He looked away, placing the coffee on a wicker table in front of me.

“No I… sorry, it just happened.”

“Have you been hard since you caught me fucking myself?” he asked. “Soz I’m joking.”

Awkwardness prevailed. He didn’t know where to look and neither did I – although my eyes drifted to his super tight ass in those grey briefs as he went to the window and opened it to let some air in.

“Just wasn’t expecting to see you at the window!” he continued.

“I probably should warn people,” I said, sitting up dizzily. “I’d never usually be looking into your bedroom like that. But my spray pole is broke.”

He shot a look between my legs where my eight inch tool was refusing to play ball and wind its neck in. “Doesn’t look that way to me,” he laughed. “Soz again.”

I laughed, taking hold of the coffee and having a sip. “Jesus that is sweet.”

“Thought it would revive you. Do you want me to call someone?”

“Nah I’m good honest. I’ll get out your way in a sec, let you get back to… y’know.”

“My OnlyFans!” he responded.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, was doing a dildo video for it but my tripod’s fucked so had to prop the phone up on my pillows. But it keeps falling so I have to keep starting again. I’ve been bouncing on that dildo for an hour. Hot mess.”

“My spray pole and your tripod…”

“You just can’t get the hardware.”

We fell silent, awkward as I willed my hard on to go down.

“You make much money off it then?” I said, trying not to appear as interested as I was.

“Nah,” he admitted. “It’s not bad but I couldn’t live off it. I do yoga instructing and stuff-“

“That explains the… er… positions,” I laughed. “Impressive.”

“You’ve seen me do yoga?!”

“Just caught glimpses sometimes,” I replied. “Jesus I sound like a pervert.”

“I’m here for it.”

Another silence fell between us. His eyes traced my body as I drank more coffee.

“But yeah my hat’s off to anyone who can do yoga. I go the gym all the time but I could never-“

“Yeah I could tell you’re pretty fit,” he interrupted.

Another awkward silence. Then he cleared his throat and stood, speaking as casually as he possibly could.

“I should just buy another tripod. But I need to get this video online, like, yesterday, I’ve lost twenty followers in a week.”

“Something you said?”

“Just lack of new content.”

“Sounds like hard work keeping up with demand!”

“It is!” he said. “Seriously they just eat it up and spit it out, the more you post the more they want! Was looking at tripods before and it wouldn’t be delivered til Friday. Could do with a cameraman!”

For some reason the minute he said that my dwindling stiffy started coming back to life. He looked right at my crotch then into my eyes with a smile.

“Sorry you don’t need to hear all this after you just nearly broke your neck!”

“Nah it’s cool,” I laughed. “Taking my mind off it to be fair. But I’ll leave you to it, I’ve got a few more houses to do.”

I stood, and my bulge was sticking out so far there was no way I could hide it. I went to move and he reached out, resting a hand on my arm. There was a tingle between us as his skin touched mine.

“You sure you should be going back up that ladder so soon? Maybe you should give yourself an hour…”

“I can’t just sit in my van for an hour,” I reasoned.

“No but… I dunno. You could just chill here. Couch is yours, I’ll be upstairs anyway.”

“What… making content?”

I sniggered, swigged more coffee.

“You could always be my cameraman?” he offered, a twinkle in his eye.

There was that awkward silence again. There was tension in the air. The throb of my cock was growing – and I could see him stiffening up in his briefs too. I didn’t know what to say and he could feel my awkwardness.

“Ignore me, you go and chill in your van!”

“No it’s not that! I mean what if I fuck it up?”

“You’ve literally got to point the phone at my hole,” he said. “You probably don’t spend that much time looking at other lad’s bum holes though, amma right?”

“Right.”

“Well let’s break the ice!”

He giggled cheekily, before stepping out of his boxers and revealing a pretty girthy six inch cock, completely shaved. He turned until his smooth brown bubble butt was pointing in my direction. Then he stepped up on the sofa where I’d been laying, bent down and spread his cheeks to reveal a hairless pink pucker. My eyes were glued to it until he turned and looked around at me with a big cheeky beaming smile.

“It won’t bite,” he said. “Think you can handle it?”

“I reckon I probably could,” I told him, my voice almost cracking as my adrenaline started to pump.

“Cool let’s do it then. Showtime.”

He turned and headed out, beckoning me to follow. I did, my hard on jutting out in my pants and starting to leak as I followed him up his stairs. His butt was in line with my face as he climbed each step, and the scent of his cocoa butter wafted under my nose. Was I really looking at this lad’s ass like it was a pussy?

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Duane,” he said. “You?”

“Shane.”

“Duane and Shane, are you kidding? That’s got content creators written all over it!”

He led me along the upstairs landing to the front bedroom. Neat and tidy, so my OCD was put at ease, but the whole place smelled of cocoa butter and baby oil. Grabbing his glistening black dildo, he hopped on to the bed before grabbing his phone. Scrolling, he found a video and turned the screen to show me.

On the video Duane was face down getting absolutely railed by a large older daddy type, squatting behind him and thrusting hard into his ass. The video was shaky as Duane held the camera in selfie mode, crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“See this is what I normally put out. I like it to be a bit rough around the edges, they don’t want glossy perfect angles on my OnlyFans. So no pressure at all!”

I scoffed, rubbing my crotch without realising as the big guy pulled what must have been nine inches of cock out of Duane’s ass and sprayed his face with a thick creamy load. Duane switched it off.

“Actually before we start I need a top up.”

“Of what?”

“This.”

He took out some baby oil and threw it in my direction before flipping over, dropping his face to the mattress and pushing that smooth caramel coloured ass up in the air.

“Could you oil my ass up?”

“Oh, I… er…”

“Come onnnn,” he moaned, wiggling it at me. “It’s just like washing windows!”

“How is it like washing windows?!”

“Okay technically it’s washing my back door!”

I started to laugh, then he started to laugh, and it was hot and funny at the same time. The humour cut through the tension and next thing I knew I was pouring baby oil all over his pert ass. Slowly I reached down and started to run my hands over his flesh. He goose bumped up and I bricked up, my hands finding his crack and rubbing the oil deep inside it. Duane moaned and arched his back, spreading his legs and pushing his long brown tool down so it pointed back towards me. The oil dripped from his crack down his balls to his cock and I followed the drip with my hands, slowly taking his cock in my hands and squeezing it. My mind was blown. I was greasing up another man’s cock! And to be honest, it was hot as fuck feeling his meat pulse in my hands as I milked it. Looking at that hole wink as I tugged his cock, I couldn’t resist sliding my other hand back to his ass and pushing the tip of my finger into it. He released a low moan as the finger slide into his chute – surprisingly tight considering the heavy traffic it was used to. I edged the finger deeper, deeper, feeling the hot flesh tighten around it. Suddenly I wanted to be all in – fingers, hand, you name it, I wanted to be enveloped by him.

“Jesus!” he cried out. “Stop or I’ll cum.”

“So will fucking I,” I sighed, giving in to the throb in my joggers.

Pulling away, I grabbed a towel and wiped my hands down as he turned and looked at my bulge.

“That seems a shame to waste,” he confessed.

“I’m the cameraman, Duane! Just the cameraman!”

“Okay okay.”

His tone was light and jokey with a sting of mocking, like he knew me better than I knew myself at that point. He passed me the phone and took hold of the dildo.

“It’s filming so just start on my face then move to my ass when I tell you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

As I filmed him, Duane took the dildo and ran it slowly along his lips before sliding it into his mouth. He looked straight into camera – and directly into my eyes.

“I’ve wanted your cock for so long,” he purred. “In my mouth, down my throat til I choke. I want you to fucking own me with that cock.”

He started to deep throat the dildo, his slobber hanging in strings and dripping all over his smooth naked body. His eyes watered as he started to fuck his own throat with the dildo.

“Fuck it’s so big!” he cried. “It’s too big, it’s choking me!”

He rammed it back in his mouth, slurping, spitting, gagging. His cock stood at attention, as did mine.

“I bet you wanna cum down my throat don’t you?” he asked, coming closer to me, the questions pointed squarely in my direction. “I bet you want to empty those big fat balls all the way down right into my stomach. Make me taste those babies you’ve got in your sack.”

He edged ever close to me until I could feel the heat of him radiating against me. He looked up over the camera into my eyes.

“I’m just your fucking spunk bucket.”

He smirked, his eyes drifting to my crotch.

“I’m making you wet. I can see the patches.”

I looked down and sure enough there were dark patches of pre cum seeping through my joggers.

“I want you in my hole!” he groaned before lying back and throwing his feet in the air, letting them drop on either side of his head. He was bent like a human pretzel, his elbows resting under his knees, his hole gaping in front of me and his camera.

“Come closer,” he moaned. “Watch me gape.”

I climbed on to the bed, holding his phone and pushing it further towards his pink hole as he started to flex it. I was amazed to watch his hole literally gape in front of me, his pink anal walls on show beckoning me to come in closer. I was having flashes of my pole dancer, how her pink pussy lips frothed up for me in that position. His hole was shiny and wet, and with each gape I could see deeper inside, a red tunnel just begging me to travel inside it.

“You can see inside me,” he groaned. “Imagine how hot it feels sucking your cock right up into me. Milking that hard dick until it fills my guts with all your hot cum!”

He looked down at me. “I can see how hard you are. How much you want to put that dick up my ass. You wanna fuck me don’t you? Tell me you wanna fuck me!”

It was on the tip of my tongue. I literally wanted to say it right back to him but I held back. He took hold of the dido and started to slide it into his gape.

“I need more lube…”

He took the dido out and sucked on it again before positioning it back at the opening between his ass cheeks and slowly started to slide it in, moaning loud for the camera – or was it for me?

“Oh fuuuck!” he cried. “Fuck you’re so big! You’re gonna split me open!”

He pushed it deeper, his dick pulsing and firing out some pre cum which in turn made me gush inside my pants. I looked down and a “Fuck” escaped my lips. He looked over the camera and into my eyes.

“You wet too?” he asked.

I just nodded.

“Fuck me,” he moaned. “Fuck me deep!”

He started to pound his hole with the dildo, writhing on the bed as he ravaged his own ass with the greased-up dong. He lost himself in it as I filmed, moving from his hole to his face as it contorted with pleasure. I edged closer until his feet were inches from my face.

“I wanna cum on cam,” he said. “But I need my hands free to do it. Would you?”

I scoffed, shaking my head.

“Please. Please help me cum!”

He stopped fucking himself and grabbed his cock with his right hand and started to squeeze his nipple with his left. My wet dick strained against my joggers as I looked at that dildo glistening with ass juice and lube, hanging out of his gape at my crotch. Slowly I reached down, gripped the base… and started to slide it inside him. I tilted the phone to film my hand as it pushed the dildo in, and slowly pulled it back out making him groan in delight.

“Yes that’s it. Fuck me!”

I started to push it harder, imagining it was my hard eight inch shaft sliding deep into that pussy. Looking him in the eyes, the phone fixed on his hole, I started to drive it in and out harder, banging all ten inches deep into his cunt. He wanked furiously, and I felt my own balls tensing as I pounded him. I couldn’t play with my cock because both hands were busy, but the more I fucked that wet squelching hole, and the more I saw his dick leak its juices all over his stomach, the more the nut milk churned in my sack.

“Fuck yeah my fucking cameraman is fucking me!” he cried out for his viewers. “I’m so close! Make me cum! Make me cum! Harder!”

I started to ram it as deep as I could, breaking through his second hole and sending his eyes rolling and his moans soaring until I worried that the neighbours would hear everything. His cock throbbed, his hole gaped and suddenly…

“I’m gonna cum!”

Duane blew seven ropes of cum all over his smooth chest and face. I just about caught it on camera before he took the phone from me, threw it down on the bed and whipped my joggers down in one fell swoop. He knew what I needed and I knew what he wanted. Suddenly any kind of hesitation was replaced by an urgent need to fuck like animals. Together we struggled to get the joggers off me completely before he threw me down on my back and straddled me.

His hole was still gaping from the dildo but it felt tight and hot on my girthy eight incher as he sat down on it and milked it for all it was worth. The heat of his insides burned around my rigid tool as he slicked it up with anal juice, bouncing hard on it as his still erect cock splashed his cum all over my chest. As he rode hard and fast he looked me deep in the eyes before diving down and kissing me hard and passionate. His tongue found mine and we fell into the deepest kiss as my balls gave up the ghost and let loose.

Torrents of my sperm filled him deep, each shoot feeling like fireworks as he cried out at the hot splooge flooding his deepest recesses. I moaned hard and loud as I came for what felt like two minutes… and then he pulled off me and swept down engulfing my cock with his mouth to give it a good clean off, bringing his phone around to film himself as he slurped his own ass juice up like a hungry pig.

He switched it off as he sat up, his face covered in butt slime and cum. I was plastered to the bed, my head spinning, my heart pounding, my dick slowly softening against my abs. My eyes fell on to the phone as I realised he’d filmed himself sucking me.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s just a dick. A fucking beautiful one but just a dick.”

I laughed, sliding off the bed and standing to find my trousers.

“My mates actually said I should be on OnlyFans!”

“Are you kidding me with that ass?!” he said. “That is cake and a half!”

I pulled my Calvins up slowly so they swallowed up the ass for him to see.

“Okay please tell me whoever your lucky girlfriend is, she eats that for you.”

“I’m single actually. I’ve had a couple of girls do it but they’re just a bit…”

“Squeamish?”

“Could say that.”

“Okay I need to show you how it’s done. Because ass like that needs to be worshipped!”

“Mate I need to crack on with work but maybe when we make the next video!” I joked.

“Wait… next video?”

As I saw the look on his face – one of genuine surprise – I started to chub up at the thought of doing more with him. Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea.

“You said it yourself,” I told him. “Duane and Shane’s got content written all over it. Just one condition though.”

“What’s that?”

I could feel the cheeky smirk creeping across my face, I knew there was a glint in my eye. Something had been unlocked today. Blame it on the near-death experience. Blame it on his perfect hole milking my cock.

Whatever the cause, I was beaming when I informed him: “Shane comes first.”

I knew the minute they opened a halfway house for naughty lads around the corner there’d be trouble. But the minute I mentioned it on the local WhatsApp group I was shouted down! Far too many lefty liberals in this area, choking on their organic muesli to outdo each other in the woke stakes. The fact is if you fill a house full of criminals in a residential area, the crime rate is gonna go up! Doesn’t take a genius. But that didn’t stop judgemental Vanessa in Number 39 labelling me as ‘Right Wing Rich’. I’m not by the way, I’m pretty centrist Rich, handsome, 38, a hairy ginger Vegan Guardian reader who washes his clothes with eCover! But people love to label each other. So I decided to wind my neck in and not waste my breath in future.

Then about two weeks later what happens? A gang of the thuggish little sods came down our street in the middle of the night to play a game of baseball. Only instead of using their bats on a ball they chose the wing mirrors of half the cars on the road. I don’t drive, so I was smugly unaffected. I was even more smug when right-on Vanessa lost her windscreen to the little shits! The whole thing did, however, make my husband Peter paranoid that we were going to get burgled. To be honest I think the idea of a rough scally barging through the door and running amok in our house is more a fantasy than a fear but that’s just me. Peter’s always been the cautious one. You might even call him vanilla, although I did once catch him wanking off to a FunSizeBoys video so who knows? Anyway I gave in to his moaning and invested in one of those camera ring doorbells.

It’s got a motion detector on it and records anyone who comes to the door. Last week we got a parcel from Amazon unceremoniously dumped on the step, with an email confirming it had been delivered. It wasn’t stolen but the heavens opened and the parcel was in bits when I got home. I opened it to find my fancy new copy of ‘And Then There Were None’ by Agatha Christie in soggy tatters! Amazon were pretty good and sent out a replacement – but I’d had a bad day in work so was in a shitty mood. So I decided I was going to check the doorbell camera to see who the lazy postie was so I could have a word with him next time I saw him. Peter wasn’t home yet so I sat down with my phone alone and went through the videos until I found it. I didn’t recognise the postie. Pretty nondescript gangly string of piss to be honest. But I was distracted from looking at the postman when I saw something far more interesting going on in the background.

So the old dear opposite in number 10 has this really fit nephew or grandson or whatever who comes around once a week. He’s a pretty student type, curly dark hair, rugger bugger body, all stocky muscle with an arse like a mountain. And he drives – so he’s not quite jailbait! Me and Peter perv off him whenever we see him pull up in his red mini. Peter laughs as I run to the window and watch his chunky arse wobble on his way into the house, but that doesn’t stop him having a good look too.

The red mini was parked up in the background of the doorbell video and as the postie waltzed off, I got a clear image of the fit boy in his car, obviously video-calling someone. His phone was in his left hand as he spoke to someone on the screen, but it didn’t take me long to realise his body was jerking in his seat. His right hand was out of view and from what I could see that’s where the shaking was coming from. I thought maybe he was scratching his knee or foot as he spoke, but the jerking went on. And on. And on. And his face was contorting in all manner of expressions. He was having a wank right there in the drivers’ seat of his car! My dick stiffened as I watched him lose himself in the moment, then stop abruptly. He looked down, scooped something up and sucked his fingers in a very obvious way for whoever was on his phone screen. Then he looked around, as if the reality of where he was had dawned on him. He laughed and quickly hung up – and then my video ended.

I checked the time of the video and it was 2.10 in the afternoon. It’s a time when most of the street is quiet as people are in work, but still a huge risk to do something like that. I was hard from watching it, imagining his fist pumping up and down his cock which I was picturing to be girthy just like the rest of him. I wondered if his cum was thick and creamy, and how much of it he spurted. But I also wondered what on earth he was playing at!

I immediately sent the video to Peter at work and he replied with a whole host of emojis, not to mention a big fat ‘WTF?!’ We joked about how was best to let him know we’d seen him in action, but left it at that.

Then a couple of days later I was at home for lunch, when I saw his mini pull up across the road. Sliding my bowl of Heinz tomato soup out of my way I made a mad dash for the window and sat just beside the curtain so I wouldn’t be caught watching. Sure enough, he sat there in the car for a few minutes just scrolling on his phone. Then with a gorgeous cheeky smile on his face, he checked his wing mirror, looked over his shoulder… and suddenly he was lifting up his t-shirt! From what I could see he had a muscular hairy chest. He stroked it for the entertainment of whoever was on the phone, and then started to rummage around with his hands out of view. He held the phone aloft, in selfie mode again, and started to give them another show, much like the one I’d watched days ago only now with added torso!

I couldn’t resist touching myself as I watched this hot young lad masturbating right out there in the street. I slipped my hand into my work trousers and started to grope my hairy ginger cock, sliding the foreskin back and letting my pre cum ooze all over my white briefs. But then something else caught my eye. Just up at the top of the road, a police car was pulling in to park. The lad in the mini clearly hadn’t noticed and was tugging himself off for his audience with abandon. I couldn’t let him get caught! So I zipped up my trousers, stepped into my shoes and rushed to the front door. Hot-footing it out into the street, I saw two policemen getting out of their car just up ahead, so bound across the road to the red mini and slammed a hand on the roof.

Peering in I saw his fat rigid prick red in his hand, and a look of sheer horror on his face as he realized he’d been caught. He fumbled to button up and lowered his window, panicking.

“Mate I’m sorry I didn’t… I…”

“No it’s fine!” I laughed. “I just wanted to let you know there are police on the way!”

“You rang the police?!”

“No, it’ll be about the vandals, but they’re right there, I didn’t want you to get arrested!”

I pointed and he saw the police were going to number 6. I looked down at his bulge and just smirked, enjoying having the power over this absolute fittie.

“If it was up to me you’d have at least shot your load.” I winked and turned and headed back into my house. I was buzzing with adrenaline at having seen his throbber, having engaged with him, and then even flirted with him. I’d stepped way outside my comfort zone on three counts and loved it!

Shutting the door behind me, I felt the blood pumping and a tent was emerging in my trousers. I was so turned on by the encounter I had to shut the blinds, spread out on my bean bag and flog my dick thinking about his fat red end, imagining it smearing my face with his pre cum. He was a horny exhibitionist who was 20 at the most, he must have cum-cannons full of fluid. I kept imagining it pumping out all over me as I greased my bone and lost myself in the bate, building to a big finish when suddenly…

The doorbell rang. My ginger balls turned blue as I stood, grabbing a nearby cum rag towel and wrapping it round my waist as I rushed to the door in annoyance. The grouch in me instantly left when I opened it to find the gorgeous wanker stood there on my doorstep.

“Oh!”

“Sorry,” he said. “I just… wanted to apologize. I know I must seem like an absolute pervert.”

“A bit,” I joked. “But then I was perving off you so…”

“Really?”

His eyes travelled down to the towel – and the log that was still swelling and boned up beneath it.

“I’m Danny by the way,” he said, awkward.

Random but sweet. I responded, “Rich.”

He just nodded, looking down at his trainers.

“I spotted you last week too,” I said.

“Shit. Fuck. I thought nobody was home and…”

“In the whole street? Anyway, that’s why exhibitionists get off on it, right? The idea that people might see? Mind you you’re pushing your luck a bit by doing it right outside your Gran’s.”

“She’s my auntie,” he said. “And… I know. But. Long story. Look I’m sorry.”

He turned to go.

“I do love a story,” I said, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t mind it being… er… long.”

Danny looked around at me, his ruddy rugger boy face flushed with a mix of humiliation and excitement. I didn’t say another word, I just stepped back as if to let him cross the threshold. He was a little like a deer in the headlights and I loved that. He looked back over his shoulder to his Auntie’s, then down the road… and gave in. He followed me into the house. Closing the door behind him, I led him through to the living room which was still dark with the blinds closed, the scent of my masturbation hanging in the air.

“Sorry it’s so dark,” I said. “Was having a bit of private time.”

I sat down in my arm chair, legs spread in my towel, and gestured for him to sit opposite on the couch.

“Nice place,” he said. “Bit more colourful than my Auntie’s.”

“Two homosexuals live here, what d’you expect?”

He laughed. “Your fella home or…?”

“No he’s at work. He’ll be furious he missed you.”

His eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been our wank fodder for the last few months,” I told him, feeling my cock start to inflate under the towel.

“For real?” He smirked, the exhibitionist in him clearly over the moon at hearing this.

“Don’t act all surprised, Danny, you clearly like to show off and be admired. I mean… you like it enough to crack one off in your car in broad daylight…”

“Yeah about that. It’s all part of a game.”

I was intrigued. This lad was getting more interesting by the second. “Go on.”

“Me and my mate, we… we dare each other to… wank off in public or strip off in public or… sometimes fuck in public.”

What had been subsiding under my towel suddenly sprung back to life. “That’s so hot,” I sighed. “So that’s who you’re… on the phone to when you do it?”

“Yeah. And then he video calls me and he’ll be like wanking on the bus, or getting head from his boyfriend in Lidl.”

I almost coughed up a lung laughing at that. “Not in the middle aisle, please.”

“Exactly. We make each other laugh but it’s horny too.”

“I’ll say it’s horny!” I responded. I spread my legs a little and my tool twitched for him to see. “So have you fucked in public for him to watch?”

“Not yet,” he confessed. “I’ve had a couple lads on Grindr say they’d meet me in a car park but they always bail at the last minute.”

“What a shame!” I said. “He’s winning the game!”

“Yeah the cocky fucker won’t let me forget it either,” he grunted.

“What if you video called him right now and told him you were getting a BJ from your Auntie’s neighbour?”

He suddenly laughed. His eyes were glued to my slowly spreading legs. “You’re joking right?”

I let my legs gape open and my ginger cock and balls flopped out from under the towel, my shaft bouncing free.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Wow.”

His eyes were on my cock, his mouth was widening in a hungry gape, and there was drool emerging from his lips.

“You’ll catch flies in that mouth, Danny,” I warned him playfully.

“Rather catch a load.”

He slid from the seat to his knees and started to crawl towards me. I was NOT expecting him to go all sub on me but I wasn’t going to stop him. Like a cum-seeking missile he dove in, slurping me down in one go, throating me like an absolute pro. I cried out, gripping the arms of my chair as the force of his suck brought my arse an inch or two off the cushions. He gripped my shaft and sucked it hard and fast. The heat of his throat, the swirl of his tongue and the pure suction power of his lips sent me into a groaning trance. His head bobbed up and down fast and furious, and as he started to crank the dick with his hand I knew I wasn’t going to last. The heady mix of his skills, the horny situation and the fact that I’d already got three quarters through a wank before he showed up made a perfect storm.

“Wait!” I cried… but it was too late.

The tingles tore through me as my engorged dong exploded its swimmers in his mouth. Danny pulled back, letting my remaining ropes of man juice cover his face. I gasped and moaned as he kept tugging, milking me for all I was worth. Each squeeze brought a blast of my babies to splatter a different corner of that face. I beamed down at him as he looked up at me with big doe-eyes, his sweet mug pebble-dashed with the produce of my sack. As I caught my breath, he quickly reached into his pocket. He took his phone out and handed it to me.

“Get a shot of me with the facial,” he said. “It’ll drive him nuts.”

I chuckled, taking the phone and aiming it right at that gorgeous smile.

“Say cheese.”

He giggled as I took his photo. Then as I handed the phone back to him he stood, his own cock protruding through his jeans. I reached up and gripped it.

“Now what are we gonna do about this?”

“Good question.”

“Well. You’ve got a game to win. Come on.”

I stood, grabbing my discarded trousers and leaving my cummy towel on the floor. Dressed, I took hold of Danny’s hand and he wore a confused smile as I led him through the house and out the back door into our nice little middle-class yarden.

“Ignore the washing line,” I ordered him, going to the back door and opening it to the alley way. I beckoned him to follow me out, stepping over bin bags until I pushed him up against the wall.

“I don’t get it… what-“

“Video call him. You’re about to get your public BJ in the alleyway behind your Auntie’s house.”

I dropped to my knees and he laughed in surprise before making the call. Danny’s cummy face flushed even more as I unleashed his fat meat, slick with pre that had pooled in his boxer briefs. I slurped up the sticky mess from the cotton, waiting for his call to start before I put that bell end in my mouth. It rang a few times before I heard it connect.

“Okay what happened, did you chicken out?” the mate laughed.

“Fuck no, I upgraded!” Danny responded. “I’m behind my Auntie’s house and turns out one of her neighbours is a filthy cock-sucking whore. Fucking watch this, man!”

He tilted the phone down to capture my smiling face as I winked to camera and engulfed his fuck tool in my wet slut of a mouth. He moaned loud as I went to work on his shaft, slurping and spitting on it for theatrical effect. I moaned, groaned, gagged, made all the right noises as his mate watched and wanked. As if it wasn’t hot enough to be on my knees sucking Danny off, I could see his equally hot blonde student mate gooning out on his phone as he watched us, stroking a long thin cock on his sofa. His eyes were on mine as I worshipped the oozing prick, so it was like being part of a virtual three way.

“Good boy!” his mate growled over the phone. “Suck that cock for me. Suck it like you’d suck mine!”

He slapped his wet cock on the camera as if it was my face and I nodded obediently, lifting the heavy schlong up to feast on the hairy sweaty nuts beneath. Both lads were moaning in unison, cooing their filthy encouragements as I sucked for my life.

“Yeah you filthy cunt, you like sucking two young lads off?” the mate growled, making me really wish he was here in person too.

“Swallow our dicks you dirty perv!” Danny moaned, encouraged by his friend. I loved hearing this side to him.

“Let’s see that tongue in action!”

I slowed down, pulling the tip of the cock to the tip of my tongue and then giving it a slow squeeze to push more of that precious salty honey out. I tongued his piss slit and then rubbed it across my lips before sucking the whole shaft back in hungrily. I picked up the pace and made Danny shake, his head falling back as he cried out, keeping the phone pointed my way. His mate was stroking fast and hard, his knob glistening above the phone camera. Their moans built into a crescendo until I didn’t know who was who. I just heard…

“I’m gonna cum bro!”

“Me too bro!”

I opened my mouth wide, positioned just under the tip of his flared head, and above it I could see his mate starting to cum over the phone. One virtual gush sent Danny over the edge and suddenly he was erupting white sticky lava directly on to my tongue, up my nostril, across my cheek and down my throat. He cried out loud, still performing for his mate but adding to the whole scenario. I responded in kind, moaning and slurping like a starving man given his first meal in a month. He tasted salty and rich, and his load was thick and juicy.

As his mate came down from his cum high over the phone, my new friend shook his bell end over my face, slapping my forehead with a sticky mess.

“Good lad!” he grunted before tucking himself in and turning the phone to face himself.

“Beat that!”

“I’ve got a better idea,” his mate said. “Let’s just share that fucker!”

My heart leapt at the thought of it, but the prospect only got hotter when Danny had hung up the phone. As we cleaned up in the yarden, I joked with him, “Love all that bro shit. I mean it’s a bit American…”

“What, me calling him bro?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh no it’s not an American thing it’s cos… Never mind.”

I stopped him, intrigued. “No, go on. What were you gonna say?”

Danny smirked, knowing I was hanging on his every word. “I called him my mate before but… fuck it. I’ve sucked your cock, the ice is broke. I call him bro because… he’s actually my brother?”

I was agog. “You are messing. You’re winding me up!”

“Swear down, mate,” Danny replied. “He’s my annoying little brother! That’s why I have to win every fucking game, put him in his place. Thanks for your help! You’re a legend.”

He patted my shoulder casually and was off back into my house to head out. I was left stood there in shock, immediately hard again having learned this vital bit of knowledge. I knew I had to tell my other half ASAP – and then arrange to help them out with their next little game!

!

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… until a scally called Tommy but his foot through the kitchen window. He’d been up and down Tugmore Terrace a few times over the last few nights to check out the size of the piles under the posh Christmas trees in the bay windows. Number 50 had a selection of gifts that wasn’t the biggest he’d seen, but the guy who lived there was always leaving his MacBook, phones and even a fancy SLR camera hanging round so clearly the man had money.

Tommy wasn’t a bad guy, but he needed to earn some fast cash and the middle-class fuckers in this road were rolling in it. In fact they didn’t have room to roll, their little palaces were so stuffed with junk. He was just going to relieve them of some of their capitalist gains and put the money to better use. His rule was to avoid any houses where he’d seen kids running round inside. He didn’t want to be the Grinch and spoil some excited brat’s day. But the rest were fair game! And the salt and pepper haired, blue-eyed office worker at Number 50 was the first stop on his collection route. He’d watched him head out in an Uber dolled up for a Christmas Eve party and now it was midnight he was making his move.

Short, wiry and cute in a cheeky vintage Robbie Williams way, Tommy was all in black as he prowled through the house from the kitchen to the living room. He kept the lights off and used his phone flashlight to find his way to the plush, carpeted lounge that was full of animal print furniture and art work. The guy was obviously a bit of a fruit. Tommy didn’t judge too much. He’d spent six months on holiday at his majesty’s pleasure and found getting his dick sucked by his pretty little cellmate to be a great way of passing the time. He’d even bent over and let the lad stick a tongue and finger in there a few times and it made his slightly tapered cut seven inches cause a right mess of the bed. So it was all good for Tommy. He had nothing against the guy personally, he just wanted some dough for New Year and this was the easiest way of getting it.

Ducking under the tree, he went through the presents and found the ones that felt heaviest. He tore them open, laughing at his own good fortune when he found a polaroid camera, a MacBook, a PS5 and a Smart Watch. Bingo! He quickly shoved them all into his bag, hands shaking with adrenaline, and turned to go. He stopped when something caught his eye. Propped on the couch was another gift, in a long oblong box, and the wrapping paper wasn’t the same gaudy candy cane shit the others were wrapped in. It was plain black, with a gift tag reading “Carl – enjoy and think of me. Matt x” Intrigued, Tommy had to see what it was! He tore at the black paper and guffawed when he saw what was inside.

A 10 inch vibrating dildo!

“Fill your boots Carl whoever you are!” Tommy laughed.

“That would be me,” came a response from the living room door.

Tommy almost jumped out of his skin before turning to see Carl stood there watching him. He was slightly drunk from his night out but had been snapped into some form of sobriety by finding a scally burglar squatting under his tree rifling through his gifts.

“Shit.”

“I’m calling the police.”

Carl was just about keeping a lid on his growing panic as he took out his phone. The seven cocktails he’d sunk had given him the courage he needed to not completely freak out and cower in a corner. This lad could snap and smash his head in but right now Carl didn’t give a shit.

“No, look, I’ll leave the stuff here and go!”

“What, to do this to some other poor fucker? No way mate, you’re scum and you’re going to jail!”

Tommy sprang into action, his survival instinct kicking in as he charged at Carl, knocking him clear off his feet and bounding out the door as Carl called after him, “You can run wherever you like but you’re all over the CCTV mate!”

Tommy stopped in his tracks, heart pounding, breaking into a sweat as he looked back into the living room where Carl was climbing up off the couch. Carl swayed a little on his feet, the cocktails, the adrenaline and the head rush hitting at once.

“Seriously? You’ve got cameras?”

“In the back, in the hallway there…”

“Mate I’m leaving the shit here, I’m walking away, come on!”

“Yeah well I’m guessing you smashed your way in, you fucking violated my home, so you can fuck off if you think you’re getting away with this scot free!”

Tommy felt his guts churn, his palms sweat, and his skin tingle with a mix of fear… and something else. He could see Carl’s eyes tracing the outline of his tight body, resting on his crotch. Tommy was a survivor – he knew how to use what he had to his advantage. And gay guys always gave him a second glance, in bars, in bogs, in jail. And now here.

“Well can I… can I do anything to like, make this right?”

Carl was taken aback, feeling a surge of chemistry in the atmosphere as Tommy looked him in the eyes and stepped closer.

“What do you mean?” Carl scoffed.

“I really don’t wanna go back to nick,” Tommy said. “I’d be up for. Y’know. Whatever’s gonna send me out that door a free man tonight.”

Carl couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In the heat of the tension, emotions soaring, hormones bubbling, he had to admit to himself that this grubby little scally lad was fit as fuck. He’d had a shit night so far. He’d spent half of the night getting drunk enough to throw the lips on his workmate Tyler, who’d led him on for months and then kissed some other gobshite under the mistletoe instead of Carl. He was drunk. He was sick of being taken for a fool. And now… he was kinda horny.

His eyes went from Tommy’s substantial bulge, to his cocky little face, then back again.

“I’ll let you suck my cock,” said Tommy with a smirk.

Carl laughed out loud.

“Oh like you’re doing me a favour? You think I’m just some desperate queer who’ll drop to his knees for any scally cock?”

“No, I… I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Yeah you did. But I’m the one in control here!”

“What do you mean? You want me to suck yours?”

“No.”

As the idea popped into Carl’s head he was shocked at himself – but instantly started to get hard in his trousers at the thought. He nodded over towards the vibrator on the sofa.

“You seemed so intrigued by my Christmas present. Why don’t we use it?”

Tommy looked across at the massive phallic toy, his mouth dropping open at the suggestion. He stammered, “On… on you?”

“No,” said Carl. “On you.”

Tommy’s eyes fell on the massive tool as Carl took it out of its box and slid the batteries into it. His arsehole winced at the thought – but something stirred in his scally bollocks that took the edge off the fear.

“I could never take all that mate! I’ve only ever been fingered!”

“Well we can see how we go with it,” Carl replied. “I’ve got a lot of lube.”

“Mate I don’t think-“

“Okay fine.”

Carl threw the vibrator down on the sofa, picking up his phone.

“I’ll stick to plan A!”

“No don’t do that. Look… okay you can try it but just, stop if it hurts too much?”

Carl could see a vulnerability in the lad’s eyes that almost made him stop what he was doing. But then he saw the bulge in his trackie bottoms and he couldn’t resist. He reached down, picked up the vibrator and switched it on. The low hum filled the air as it buzzed, and Carl gently held the tip of it against Tommy’s bulge. Tommy groaned out loud, head falling back.

“Like that?”

“It’s amazing to be honest.”

Carl pressed a switch at the base of the vibrator that made the head start to move in a circular motion. Tommy looked him in the eyes, glazing over with pleasure. His lips parted and Carl couldn’t resist, lunging in and kissing him passionately. Tommy reciprocated, driving his tongue as far down Carl’s throat as he could get it. It was a messy sloppy kiss, tongues fighting and slobber pouring down their chins between them.

“Okay bend over.”

“What, you can’t just stick it in?”

“I’m not planning to! Fucks sake I have done this before.”

Tommy awkwardly backed away, hiking down his trackie bottoms to reveal some stained white boxer briefs – a little bit cummy, a little bit pissy. Carl eyed the stains and wondered what he was letting himself in for with this dirty little scally. But he was high on the horn and the cocktails were still swirling around helping his blood pump south. Tommy awkwardly turned and knelt on the sofa, leaning forward with his back in the air. Carl swiftly pushed it down into an arch so Tommy’s face was down and his arse, tight, pert, sweaty in the white boxer briefs, was presented for his delectation.

“Is it clean?” Carl asked.

“Er… I think so? Haven’t had a dump or anything if that’s what you mean.”

Carl sniggered at that, falling to his knees so his face was in line with the burglar’s bum. He edged forward so his nose rested on the white cotton. Thankfully the stains were relegated to the front of the boxers, but the smell of his arse was an indication of how busy the lad had been running round robbing innocent people. He grabbed the waistband and pulled them down slowly, revealing slightly hairy white tight cheeks, spread to show a sweaty pink punker nestled in some moist downy hair.

“Wow.”

“What?” Tommy asked.

“You’ve got a nice arsehole,” Carl replied. “Good enough to eat.”

Tommy had hoped he would say that. He’d only been rimmed a few times and had always wanted more. Now Carl was slowly running his tongue up that sweaty taint with one goal in mind – his tight virgin pucker. He rubbed his nose on the hole before his tongue got there – and it was the kind of light stink he knew would stay under his nostrils long after Tommy had scarpered into the night.

“Put your tongue in mate.”

Carl’s dick jumped at the suggestion, and he took each hairy cheek in his hands, pulling them slightly further apart before rolling his tongue around the ring. Hearing Tommy’s moans, he drove it deep inside. Tommy’s anal chute was fragrant and just the right side of ripe. The stink of a real man. Deep, earthy and masculine. Carl was in heaven as he made love to that hole with his mouth, slurping, sucking spitting. He pushed each thumb just past the opening and prised it wider, making a nasty meal with the sweaty folds in front of him.

“Fucking hell mate.”

Carl just mumbled his response as he tried to get his tongue half as deep as that toy was gonna go. Tommy reached back and started to pull on his hard cock, leaking a trail of pre cum that made a glistening string between his piss slit and the cushions. Carl dipped down and licked it up, trying to keep the mess on his sofa to a minimum.

Turning to the coffee table, he reached underneath it and pulled out a bottle of lube. Tommy looked around to see Carl slathering the vibrator up with the sticky liquid. He felt a mixture of fear and pure boner-boosting horniness at the thought of it going inside him. Carl rubbed his lubey fingers up and down the hairy crack and slid one into the hole, garnering a loud moan of pleasure from his captive cunt. Then he pulled the finger out for a quick check – the coast was clear.

“Okay you ready to get fucked, you thieving cunt?”

“Remember mate, if it hurts…”

“Yeah right. You asked for this!” Carl sneered.

Tommy gasped as the fat vibrator teased his hole before sliding in, two inches first, then three, stretching his scally boy hole. He grunted at the pain, but the minute Carl flicked a switch on the vibrator, a switch was flicked in Tommy’s cunt too. The buzzing pleasure that shot through his prostate into his cock took his breath away. Hearing the sigh of pure lust, Carl took his cue and pushed another three inches. He reached out and gripped Tommy’s throbbing dick as he started to drive the vibrator in and out of him.

“Oh my fucking God!” Tommy cried, and Carl responded by pushing the remaining four inches forward into his anus.

He slid it back out, seeing the lube and bum juice glisten on the plastic before switching it to ‘swivel’ mode and pushing it deep again. Tommy trembled and writhed as the vibrator churned his insides up and tickled his g-spot until precum flowed freely from his prick.

“Wow you love that don’t you?” Carl sneered as he fucked him harder.

“Put your dick in!”

Carl stopped. “Seriously?”

Tommy didn’t look back at him, he just reached around and pulled his cheeks wider. His hole seemed to pucker around the vibrator that was still buried deep in his arse. The sight was intoxicating. Carl’s six inch fat tool was causing a flood in his pants so he was only too happy to release it. Pulling the vibrator slowly from Tommy’s cunt, he watched the wet hairs cling to it as it withdrew and left a juicy pink gape. Carl gave the vibrator a piggy lick before standing and unzipping, unleashing his wet member and slapping it directly on that tight hairy hole. Tommy responded by bucking his hips, smearing his juicy man snatch all over Carl’s girthy head.

“This isn’t your first time, is it?” Carl asked.

“With a dick yeah,” Tommy whispered. “Put it in. Put it in!”

His begging was almost enough to make Carl blow his load there and then. But he held back as he slid his wet knob past the already lubed and opened sphincter, feeling the intense heat of Tommy’s anal canal draw him deeper. He sank in slowly until he was balls deep, then reached up and gripped Tommy’s hair in his hand.

“This is what happens when you break into my home bitch!”

And with that he started to thrust hard, Tommy groaning with pleasure as Carl picked up the pace to a steady skin-slapping pound. He watched Tommy’s tight arse bounce as he barebacked it, feeling the scally thug’s ravaged arse meat quiver around his rigid weapon.

“You get fucking punished boy!”

Carl slapped that arse as he pounded it and Tommy reached down and started to jerk himself as he bolted on the cock. Soon they were meeting each other’s thrust in perfect harmony. Sticky, noisy, sweaty and urgent, they pounded hard and fast as their balls yearned to empty their goo.

“Take it you bitch. You fucking scummy thief, take my cock!”

Carl pounded harder and harder, twisting his hair around his fingers and yanking him all the way back until his face was pointed to the ceiling. He leaned over and started to kiss him from above. Messy, sloppy, their tongues swapping spit in an animalistic wrestle.

“Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Carl grunted before pulling his cock out of Tommy’s arse, swinging him round and forcing him to his knees.

“Open your mouth!”

Tommy did as he was told, lost in being a sub pig as Carl shoved his greasy, stinking cock in his mouth. As Tommy tasted his own deepest arse juices for the first time, it was an overload of lust and disgust that made his own balls explode their muck all over the Christmas tree. In return Carl closed his eyes, thrust one last time into Tommy’s throat and unloaded. Torrents of cum, built up over the week and now stirred by his drunken power trip, flooded Tommy’s mouth and throat until it spilled out around the edges and poured down his t-shirt to his wet dripping erection. Carl fell back, the high subsiding to be replaced by a complete sense of overwhelm.

He’d just almost been burgled – then had the hottest fuck he’d had in years with the burglar. What was going on?!

Tommy glanced over his shoulder at the Christmas tree and laughed.

“What?” asked Carl.

“Your Christmas angel. I’ve just give her a facial.”

Carl turned and looked at the innocent little angel atop the tree, splattered with seed. At least someone was getting a white Christmas…

Sharon next door in number 8 is such a nosy bitch.

When my husband Jay and I moved in a year ago she was right round with a jar of her home-made marmalade and a run down on every other resident in our street. She was over the moon that more gays had moved in. She joked that the residents were considering putting rainbow bunting up because so many of ‘us lot’ lived here now. She had toxic fag hag written all over her. Jay warned me, he said “Steve, if you let that woman in for a coffee we’ll never get rid of her – AND she’ll be telling the neighbours all about us just as much as she tells us about them!” He was right of course, he always is.

Jay’s the sensible one. Goes into the office every day, works his nine to five, while I can’t seem to get my shit together since I got made redundant from John Lewis. I’d worked there twenty years (since I was nineteen, I’m not ancient). So I got a tidy packet. Since then I’ve half-heartedly applied for stuff, even done a couple of interviews. But I can’t lie, slobbing out at home and masturbating the day away suits me. I may be a little bit addicted to dirty Twitter. I’m not going to call it X and you can’t make me. But scrolling and stroking for hours on end has cost me many a day at home. Then Jay comes in from work and is wondering why I haven’t done a tap around the house and the living room smells of balls.

I digress. Sharon the nosy neighbour texts all the time with gossip. I tell Jay I don’t encourage it but all this time at home has turned me into a right nosy neighbour too. The comings and goings fascinate me. The old lady in number 10 has got a right fit grandson who always pulls up in his car outside my window and spends a good ten minutes chatting on his mobile before he goes in. I’m convinced he’s having an affair behind his girlfriend’s back – maybe with a bloke – and they’re always turning each other on with some dirty talk whilst he’s got time to himself. There’s a really hot hairy postie who comes most days and I’m pretty sure I’ve caught him looking in the window at me when I’m in my boxers lounging about the place. Then there’s the gays across the road who are about the same age as us but never really make any effort so I don’t bother with them either. Oh there’s a cute mixed race boy with loads of tattoos who passes the window every day but I’m not sure where he lives. I wouldn’t mind finding out to be honest. Less sexy is the family of fat alcoholics over in number 3 who cause absolute mayhem most weekends fighting in the street!

So there’s always a lot going on, but then one day a gang of naughty lads from the halfway house round the corner thought it’d be hilarious to take a run down our street knocking off the wing mirrors of every car they passed. Luckily Jay was out at work in our car but it was carnage for everyone else. I was edging to a bate space on Twitter at the time – ‘Big Bro teaches you to goon’ was reaching its noisy peak just as I heard the bangs, the smashes, the screams and the laughter outside. So sadly I missed the action but I did manage to absolutely soak the settee with the pent up spermies.

That night Sharon came knocking, gleeful with gossip. She was full of concern for her neighbours, obviously, so had taken the liberty of setting up a Tugmore Terrace WhatsApp Group. Jay was making our dinner and called in from the kitchen “We don’t do WhatsApp groups!” Sharon obviously took it in good humour but he meant every word. Over meatballs that night we joked about how she’d be in her element running that group and how it would be a hotbed of beige heteronormative drama and we certainly had no place there. But my craving for gossip – and, let’s face it, boredom – prevailed. And by midnight I’d told her to add me to the group!

As you can imagine I found myself privy to all of the worst elements of a middle-class muesli-eating neighbourhood. Tips on growing tomato plants from the show-off at number 70. Complaints about a rogue cat harassing little Tabitha at number 2. Passive aggression surrounding the placing of a wheelie bin at the Airbnb at number 112. Oh and some borderline racism regarding the Turkish car wash that had opened at the top of the road. I was on the verge of dramatically leaving the group when I noticed just how hot the vet who lives in the shared house at number 80 is! He’d posted a picture of himself holding some pathetic-looking puppy and obviously there were collective wide-ons amongst the housewives in the group.

I, however, looked past the puppy to the bulge in his shorts. Adam. Adam the Vet. Ginger, pale, blue-eyed, wide-mouthed, blowjob lips, no stranger to the gym. I couldn’t care less about the dog he was flogging but would gladly flog his dog for days. It looked huge! My mouth watered at the thought. So I decided I’d hang around a bit longer. Jay judged me harshly until he saw the photograph of Adam and agreed it was worth reaching out and making friends with that particular neighbour… So that’s exactly what I did, only it wasn’t in the way I’d expected…

Jay and I had been trying this new little tip we’d picked up on his anti-anxiety app. Leave your phone out of the bedroom at all times! The irony of it being an app on his phone telling us to spend less time on our phones was not lost on us but we decided to give it a go and the phones were left in the bathroom. A clever trick because we could kid ourselves we were detoxing but then when we got up for our early hours piss we could have a quick fix of screen time. About three in the morning I padded to the bathroom stark bollock naked, my seven inches still chubby from the usual sleepy-time hard on, my bladder full and needing release. As I aimed my hot yellow stream towards the bowl, I noticed my phone flashing on the cabinet beside the toilet. Curious as to who was getting in touch so late I grabbed it and saw it was the Tugmore Terrace WhatsApp Group! At three in the morning?!

Intrigued, I immediately opened it to see it was a message from Adam! It was a disappearing video, complete with a devil emoji. Seriously, what was he playing at in this WhatsApp group?! Obviously I opened it, and the minute I did, I made a mess. My cock swelled up in an instant and the stream of piss decorated the back of the toilet! On the video was Adam, lying on his bed, legs spread, knees to his chest. His cock was rock hard and slapped against his pale white abs, drooling pre, his absolutely huge nut sack was glistening in the phone’s light, and he’d spread the most beautiful smooth pink hole with a slight tuft of ginger hair framing it, a finger sliding in and out of his ring as he groaned.

“You’re right it feels amazing!” he groaned.

The video then ended. One time only. No repeat viewings. It then swiftly disappeared, replaced with, “This message was deleted.” I very quickly tilted my pissing cock back to the water, horned up to fuck but annoyed that I now had to clean up my piss. With one eye on my phone I wiped up the mess, but my dick was still hard. How could it not be? I’d just seen Adam the fit vet fingering his perfect pink hole! His dick was so fat and plump and clearly an oozer, I couldn’t help thinking about licking everything I’d seen on display. Moving my hand to my throbbing pole, I went to his WhatsApp profile, enlarging his profile picture. Adam at someone’s wedding, in a bow tie, beaming to camera like butter wouldn’t melt.

Then suddenly my phone flashed up with a message. It was him.

“OK I know you’re the one person who just opened that message. I’m so mortified!”

My cock jumped with excitement that he’d reached out. But I also felt bad for the guy. So I decided to disarm the situation with my trademark wit, replying, “Don’t be! Nobody saw it, although I’d think twice before doing it again, Vanessa in Number 39 will have a heart attack!” Lots of laughing emojis followed.

Silence – clearly he was never going to speak to me again! Oh well. I’d done nothing wrong. Although I wanted to do lots of wrong and naughty things to his cock balls and hole. I decided to take the phone back to bed with me – this was an emergency situation! As I lay in the dark stroking next to a snoring Jay, scrolling through my usual Twitter go-to accounts, my heart pounded when I saw he’d responded.

“It was meant for some guy off Grindr.”

A little blob of precum oozed from my piss slit and rolled its way down my veiny shaft. He was telling me he was into men. This was getting even more interesting. I responded with a devilish glint in my eye. “Lucky him.”

I was letting him know I was well and truly up for it. If that video was live footage and not pre-recorded there was every chance Adam was still playing with his cock and hole. If he was horny enough then maybe he’d respond in the way I’d hope…

No such luck. My face clouded over and my cock started to go limp when all I got back was the fucking ‘thumb’ emoji.

“Cunt!” I said out loud.

Jay murmured in his sleep and I shushed him. I looked down at my cock, deflated like my mood, and decided I’d save the load and wake Jay up with it in the morning. Jay loves nothing more than me waving my sticky morning knob in his face to wake him. He said he likes the smell of morning cock. Dirty boy. It’s why I married him. Well, that and his incredible lasagne. I was about to put the phone away when another message came from Adam.

“Bastard ghosted me anyway. Left me high and dry.”

My cock started to stir again. A flutter in my stomach as I replied, “Didn’t look very dry to me.” Then I toyed with the idea of adding a tongue emoji and a drool emoji. That would be so obviously thirsty and slutty though. So I sent it without the emojis. He didn’t respond. So I caved and sent the emojis in a separate message. And a devil emoji for good measure. I gently stroked my knob, scooping up some pre on my finger and tasting it as he came back to me with “Glad you noticed.”

I couldn’t help myself. I replied to him… “Course I did. Was hot A F.”

He was responding quicker now. “Nice one. Blue balls now though.”

I couldn’t leave him hanging after he’d been so quick with me. I fired right back, “I know a good cure for that!”

“Oh really. What’s that?”

“Could show you R N”

I must have held my breath for close to twenty seconds until I saw those little dots bouncing. They bounced. And bounced. And bounced. I squeezed the tip of my prick and watch a steady trickle of precum flow out and down the veins into my neat bush of pubes.

Then the message came. “Don’t know. Really need to be discreet.”

“Okay, I’ll cancel the marching band.”

Bounce bounce bounce. I waited. And all I got was a fucking ‘laughing’ emoji. He was a tease. He really wanted me to beg him. I wasn’t going to. But I did send a ‘shrug’ emoji. Nothing for what felt like forever, and then the dots started to bounce again… And bingo. The message came:

“Door open. First room on right.”

I turned to Jay, snoring away. Would it be bad to sneak out to a neighbours’ house and have sex with him without waking Jay first? I thought about it. I looked down at my rigid red prick as it poured pre all over our fitted sheet and decided Jay would be more upset at being woken up at three thirty in the morning than me not running this by him first. I jumped out of bed, threw some jogging shorts and a t-shirt on and pounded down the stairs. In the rush I totally forgot to actually shower, but I did the finger check, the sniff check and the taste check and everything was just the right side of spontaneous ripe.

Stepping out into the night it was mild for the time of year but I was still chilly. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as I headed way down the quiet road to number 80. I wanted to laugh, passing all the windows of our neighbours who were in the same WhatsApp group, who would be absolutely scandalised if they knew their little nosy neighbourhood watch scheme had facilitated such sordid shenanigans.

Arriving at number 80 I saw the whole house was in darkness apart from a tiny bit of light coming through a crack in the curtains of the front room. That would be his little shagging palace. I turned the door handle and stepped into the shared house, trying to keep the noise down but sure my heart was pounding so loud it would wake them all up.

I gently closed the door behind me and stepped into the hall, greeted by the smell of scented candles – vanilla – and the sound of movement behind the door to my right. Taking a quick look at myself in a mirror that was propped on a cabinet, I decided I looked pretty damn good for almost four in the morning. My blond hair was tousled, my slender frame hugged just right by my black t-shirt and grey shorts – my bulge was on point and yes there was even a wet patch. My three day stubble made me look a little more grizzled than I am but it worked in my favour. Ready, I turned and opened the door.

Stepping inside I found the place dimly lit, with a TV showing muted porn, generic MEN stuff, a cute desk and chair and a huge bed taking up most of the room. Adam was sprawled on the bed, totally naked apart from a pair of black socks that stood out against his alabaster skin. He was slowly stroking his rigid boner which had to be about the same length as mine but thicker. He wore a naughty grin on his innocent face, taking a finger full of precum and rubbing it on to his bright red nipples. I hiked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and yanked them down, letting my dripping dong spring free. As it did it fired a string of pre out on to his floor and he suddenly jumped up to scoop the drips into his mouth.

“Waste not want not!” I joked and he put a finger to his lips to shush me. I nodded and tried not to moan as he engulfed my cock with those expert blow job lips. His slurping hungry mouth sucked me in balls deep as those blue eyes peered up at me for affirmation.

I stroked his head, giving him a quiet nod of encouragement as he sucked slow but hard, savouring the flavours of my cock and the scent of my ripe balls. My fingers were lost in his ginger locks as he gulped down my dick. He tongued my tool then slobbered all over my sack, slurping on my fucknuts so loud I wondered if he was really so worried about making a noise. He picked up the pace sucking harder and I knew after playing with myself in bed for half an hour I wouldn’t last much longer if I let him go full Henry Hoover.

So I stopped him, pulling back before kicking my shorts off and pushing him back on the bed. Grabbing his ankles, I back rolled him until his hole was pointing up at the ceiling. That ginger arse was spread before me, the glistening pink sphincter beckoning me in. He’d been edging a while. I could tell by the heady smell of nuts and nut, pooled deliciously in his crevice. Spreading his marble white cheeks I went in face-first, rubbing my nose over his cunt to savour the scent. His musk made my mouth water and I drooled up and down his crack, tracing the spit with my tongue from the top of his ass to the hole. In I went in, driving my tongue deep and making him sigh loud. The flavour of his tight chute was sweet and salty, and his wiry tight body was the perfect size and weight for me to grip his hips and rock him back and forth on my tongue. He gently played with his cock as I ate him out, teasing his balls as I swiped my wet hungry tongue closer and closer to them. I was enjoying his sweaty taint too much to rush, reaching down and playing with my own dick as I rubbed that gooch up and down my stubble much to his delight.

As he groaned I finally let his feet fall back on to the bed so I could get my mouth on that gorgeous plump prick. I slowly slid his length down my throat, giving him my speciality as I swallowed the cock whole and still had room to swipe my tongue all over his balls. He tapped my thigh – the international symbol for ‘swing around let’s 69’.

And 69 we did. As I went down on that cock again and again I felt him tease my prick back into his hungry mouth. We slurped on each other slow and soft for a while, neither of us wanting to rush this. I swirled my tongue around his shaft as I picked up the pace, up and down hard and fast feeling the surge of precum flowing through his cock into my mouth. He traced a finger up my balls into my sweaty crack and started to play with my hole as he throated me. He worked that finger into my moist tacky shit pipe and I almost unloaded my balls right there as he went knuckle deep. I pulled my cock from his mouth and rocked on his finger, feeling him swirl it inside my ass.

“Fuck yeah,” I whispered.

“You like that?”

“Yeah, two fingers.”

He sucked another finger and started to slide both digits inside me. I gripped his prick and started to nurse the bell end with my tongue as I rocked on those fingers, feeling him start pick up the pace and finger-blast me with gusto. His dick deep in my gullet, I slid my own fingers under his beautiful balls until they found his wet hole. Sliding two in straight away I heard his grunts of pleasure. He was tight but ready to receive – a seasoned bottom.

“Can I fuck you?” I asked him.

“Yeah. Won’t last long though man.”

“Me neither.”

I climbed off him and he flipped over, that perfect white ass pert and proud and waiting to for a pounding. I dove in to eat it again as he scooped a bottle of lube up from under the bed and rolled it along the bed to me. I greased up my pole as I sucked on his hole, teasing out a pucker for my rod to impale. It didn’t take long for him to back on to me, groaning low and guttural as he engulfed my seven inches slowly but surely. It was all I could do not to blow my load the minute I felt his tight ginger cunt slide down my shaft. But I held on to it somehow until that sweet heat was all the way down to my balls.

Adam was a natural, bouncing back before I even started to thrust. He’d needed this. His ginger hole was hungry for a pounding and a fucking hot load. I slapped that ass and started to pound, his buckles meeting my thrusts half way until we hit a rhythm. Fast then slow, intimate and raw. The room filled with the funk of his ass on my ripe cock, the stink of men doing what men do best matched only by the sound of sweaty skin slapping.

I pushed his sweet face down into the bed as I went hard, giving him the fuck he needed. I pounded deep inside him until I felt the load inside me make a break for the escape hatch.

“Mate I won’t last!” I cried.

“Me neither. Knock me up man, flood me!”

His dirty talk pushed me over the edge and before I knew it my aching balls were spewing their white sticky produce deep inside his ginger ass. He cried out as I filled him and he shot so hard I heard it hit the bed, his balls emptying their precious babies in a pile of mess. I pulled his body back to rest against mine, his smooth white back on my hairy stomach, wet and sticky, both our hearts thudding from front to back.

“Fucking hell,” he sighed.

“Agreed,” I joked.

My cock plopped out of his shitter and I held it under his ass for a second.

“Can you do me a favour?” I asked.

And he did.

The next morning Jay woke to my usual trick. A cock in his face. But this time it was glazed. Adam had squirted my load out of his pretty little gape, along my cock like mustard on a hot dog. The smell of his sweaty cunt and my juicy load made for a heady mix for Jay to wake to. As he took a sniff and a lick of my prick he looked up at me, confused.

“What’s your cock smell of?”

“Adam in number 80,” I told him.

After I’d told him the whole horny story, working him up into a frenzy as I fucked his throat and gobbled his hard on down, he blew his morning load down my throat. I even had some juice left in my balls to paint his pretty face with. Then, post-coital over coffee, Jay and I came to the conclusion that not all WhatsApp groups were bad. We’ve started our own. Me him and Adam in number 80.

Wanna join?