Supergay

Going back to college at 31 was not my first choice, but a big round of layoffs swept through the corp, taking me with them. My boss came over while I was packing my desk and advised me that if I had an MBA, I'd be in upper management by now, and I'd not have been cut.

"You're a good engineer, but you've got to get yourself out of the tech pit. You've got a good severance package. Use it to go get that masters and it'll take you farther. You need business education on top of your engineering degree."

It was nice fatherly advice from the old man, and I took it, but I knew college wouldn't be the party it was when I was nineteen. Walking around the breezy campus, over the green lawns, I felt like I was a hundred years old. All the fresh faces were eager and excited, the students circling each other in various mating rituals, and all of them were oblivious to my passage through campus. Even students in my classes were much younger, only in their mid-twenties, having gone straight into the MBA program after graduating. No one talked to me because they all knew one another and had already either hooked up, or were simply uninterested in a guy half a decade older.

I tried going to gay bop, but I might as well have been a ghost. I don't blame them. With all those hot sweaty shirtless men their own age gyrating around, why come on to a guy a decade older, even if he was in good shape, a runner and a swimmer with a respectable six pack.

Still, I needed to get laid. Ever since Liam and I split last year, I hadn't dipped my toe back in the pond, so I tried the usual hook up apps. I didn't want a partner right now, I just wanted sex. I figured someone my own age would find me, or I'd fine them, and maybe we could have some fun a few times.

At first it was a failure. Younger guys never winked at me or tapped me, but much older guys were all over me. Fresh meat. I'd flip through, knowing how they felt being ignored by the younger guy, but just not interested. Where were all the men in their late twenties and early thirties? Married? In the closet? Partnered up?

By late September I figured that I'd have to get far from this college town to get laid, but before I got around to planning a trip to New York, I got my first interesting, and surprising, tap. I worried as I looked at his profile that this was a fake, someone too good to be true. His selfie was shy, him in shorts and a shirt on a beach, his face turned far from the camera, his slim figure alluring. I lit a flame and messaged him.

Coffee? Beer?

I sure as hell wanted to meet him first. What if it was a stolen photo and the guy was actually a hefty biker? His reply was as simple as mine.

Beer. How about Gabby's at 5?

Obviously, I said yes. I was also glad that he must be over 21 if he knew he'd be allowed into Gabby's.

It took me a few seconds checking out the booths in the dim bar before I recognized him at a table for two at the back not far from the dart board. As I approached, I couldn't believe my eyes. He matched his picture! A hot, dark haired twink, one luscious lock trailing over his left eye. When he saw me, he swallowed and stood so abruptly that he almost knocked over his chair. Wow, he was nervous! Why? Was I that scary?

"Hi!" He stuck out his hand for an old-fashioned hand shake. "I'm...I'm Caleb." His t-shirt had our college logo, and his jeans shorts were hemmed neatly, making me wonder if his mother had cut some jeans down for him.

"Hey, Jamie," I said. "Nice to meet you." His hand was cool and his palm sweaty, but he had a firm grip.

We warmed slowly over the beer, talking about our places in the world. He was in his last year, and since he'd done a lap year after high school, he was a year older than most of the people in his classes. I was glad that he was closer to my age than I first thought, but there was still an unbalance here. He'd been at the college for three years. Why tap me? Surely he had a posse?

"I liked your profile," he replied when I finally asked. "I liked that you said condoms are a must, that we don't have to go all the way, that we can just have fun. I'm not into sodomy and all." His cheeks flushed bright red and his blue eyes stayed with his amber beer. "I'm super scared about STDs, and I won't hook up with anyone who brags about being on Prep. It's not like HIV is the only STD."

"We've got that in common then."

"I also liked that you mentioned bondage as an interest." Now he did look up to see how I responded before taking a gulp and again staring at his beer. "Also, that you can host. Most college guys don't have their own place, and I live in a house with four other guys. I'm still in the closet, way in the closet. My family is super religious, and they'd freak if they knew I had these...deviant thoughts."

On the word

bondage

, I instantly popped a boner as I picture him tied to my bed, or him over top of me while I was tied to my bed. OMG this could be awesome. I was concerned about the word

deviant

. All I said though was, "My place is nearby if you want to come over and see it. We don't have to do anything yet." I sipped my own beer. Now I was nervous.

"Yeah. I'd like that. Uhm, I also liked that you mentioned edging."

"Awesome! That can be fun."

"Yeah, but like this is where I lost the last two guys." He looked up from his beer, his cheeks a shade of red that seemed impossible. "I have this super selfish fantasy." He swallowed loudly. "You tie me up and edge me for an hour, minimum, until I have a huge orgasm." He took a deep breath, "And then I go home. So, yeah, there isn't much in it for you. Once I cum I'm just done, so you wouldn't get off. Uhm, and I'd really prefer you keep your jeans on. I don't want to be distracted by your hard on or have to worry that you'll want to do something with it."

"Wow." I took a moment to digest this. No orgasm for me.

"I'm sorry." He spoke quickly now. "It's a super selfish fantasy and I get it if you're not interested. I'm super religious and I just can't get into sodomy without huge guilt. I just thought since we share some of the same things maybe you'd be okay with it." His blue eyes met mine, desperate, pleading. Who could say no?

"I'd be happy to help you with this fantasy."

His eyes widened with his surprise. "Really! I mean even though you don't get off? That you don't get anything out of it?"

I gave my best impish grin and leaned forward, keeping my voice low. "I get to see your hot body naked, and I get to touch you all over, and I get to play you like an instrument until you shoot. That's awesome sexy fun. Don't worry, it'll be awesome foreplay for the orgasm I'll give myself after you've gone home." I meant it.

"Oh," he sighed with relief. "You're okay that I'm super religious? The last two guys, we never did anything because of my hangs up. Too much baggage they both said." He finished his beer.

I shrugged. "It's not like we're getting married and that'll be my role the rest of my life. It's a one-time thing, maybe two or three if I do a good job. Let's just go have some no pressure fun." I finished my beer. We stopped by the bar and I paid the tab for both with a good tip.

The walk to my place through the cool evening was more awkward than I anticipated. He didn't speak, and kept falling behind half a step, finally two steps. Right, he was pretending he didn't know me in case someone from the college saw us. Okay, yeah, a lot of baggage but I let it go and tried not to picture him tied to my bed. Walking with a hard on is uncomfortable even in my loose jeans.

"You live here alone?" he asked as I unlocked the front door of the narrow house.

"I have the main floor. There's a couple that lives in the unit upstairs, but they're quiet and not here on the weekends. I think they've a cabin or something upstate."

The tour was quick. Living room with the big screen, kitchen, and bedroom. Yup, he was practically trembling when we got in there. The overhead light would be too bright, to clinical, so I just turned on my desk lamp. I sat in my chair and swiveled it to face him, leaving him standing uncomfortably by the door, his hands going into his pockets.

"Uhm, sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what to do." He swallowed loudly.

This guy could be frightened away like a deer in the forest if I approached too quickly, but he definitely needed a push.

"The one thing I get out of this is to see you naked." I spoke gently even though I wanted to charge, wrap him in a passionate kiss, and yank off all his clothes. I stayed far away in the chair. "So you can start by stripping."

He nodded and reached for one sleeve as if he would pull his arm into the shirt, but changed his mind and reached for the bottom, getting ready to sweep it up over his head, then seemed confused about that and reached for the other sleeve. He wanted to be sexy, of that I'm sure, but his impulse to remove his shirt just as if he were alone kept interfering with his lust-crowded brain. Finally, he took a deep breath to calm, grabbed the base of the shirt and pulled it up inside out with total super model style, his hands pausing high above his head before he let his arms hang back at his sides to drop the shirt.

Wow! Fucking hot! Most of his slim figure was pale, but slightly sun burned shoulders and upper chest indicated that he must've been wearing a basketball shirt outside today in the unusually warm New England September. Did he play basketball? So much to learn about him. He certainly looked fit enough, and his flat stomach, while not a worked six pack, was naturally close to it. Very thin chest hair gave way to smooth pecs on either side, and a slight happy trail of black hair traveled from his belly button down to the snap of his shorts. I like my men smooth like me, and he was pretty smooth.

"Hot!" I gave nod toward his crotch and he got the message.

"Okay," he whispered, undoing snap and zipper of his shorts. He hurried now, pushing them down along with his boxers, hopping on first one foot and then the other to remove his socks too. He then stood with his hands at his sides, palms turned slightly to me, so that I could feast my eyes.

"Holy fuck!" Now it was my turn to whisper. "Nice cock!"

It was so hard, just little longer and thicker than mine, although my head was way fatter. His was almost pointy, aiming up for the ceiling. Oh, I'd love to get that inside me. Too bad he wasn't cool with

sodomy

, as he called it. I'd let him sodomized the hell out of me!

I swear, I licked my lips. "Hands on your head and turn in a circle. Let me see what I'm working with here."

He did as ordered, fingers laced together in his luscious locks, as if under arrest, and turned in a full circle. Narrow hips made for a really nice bum. When he finished his turn, he kept his hands on his head, his eyes to the floor.

"Listen," he said. "I'm sorry but I'm a little nervous about this. I mean what if you're a psycho killer?" Now he did meet my eyes. "I didn't know you had this whole house to yourself. I mean no one could hear me scream. Maybe we just shouldn't do this."

"No I get it. I don't blame you, but I can assure you I'm not a psycho. But what about this, why don't you lie down spread eagle on the bed and we'll just pretend your tied up."

He nodded and hurried to the bed as if to hide his nudity, his embarrassment, and lay down, spreading his arms and legs as if they were tied to my bed posts. Oh yeah, when I bought the bed, I made sure it had bed posts, choosing a wrought-iron 19th century replica. His prick pointed up toward his nipples, holding high over his flat stomach.

Slowly I approached the bed, drinking in his beauty, the flush of his cheeks, the red of lips that he had just nervously licked. I reached out two fingers and gently tweaked his tiny hard nipple, provoking a gasp and making him writhe just a bit as if pulling on ropes, but his knees bent more than I'd have allowed, and he stretched them out again right away. Frustrated?

I let my finger trace down his flat stomach just to the right of his belly button. He trembled, not with cold, but with passion. I let my finger glide through his lush pubic hair until it was right at the base of his cock, then I took the path, drawing my way up his very hard erection to the tip, seeking to get a drop of pre-seminal fluid that hung over his stomach.

"Oh god, I'm close," he gasped.

What! The! Fuck!

I ceased all contact with his body and stepped back. "Are you always this hair trigger?"

He nodded in misery. "Yeah, unless I've already, you know, already ejaculated once. Even then. That's why I want to be edged for an hour. I want to train myself to not always shoot so quickly."

I settled on the bed and put a hand on his slim leg above the knee. "Ok. I think I'll need to cool things down for you for a bit. We can make this work."

He shook his head. "It's not really working for me, you know, not being tied up. Maybe you could just tie my legs? I really want to be completely under your control for this but, yeah, scared."

"Didn't you bring your phone? Okay, good, so why don't you text someone where you are, tell them I'm a study buddy or something. I mean all you have to do is ping a cell tower, and if you disappear the police can track you to my house. See, I'd be a stupid serial killer."

"Oh, yes!" he swept up and rummaged in his shorts, pulling out his phone. "I need to know about Monday's reading assignment anyway. This is a great idea!"

Watching him crouched over his clothes, naked, his phone alive and lighting his face, caused me to draw in my breath. There was something feral about his body, coiled strength like a panther. Wow I was hot for this guy.

He came back to the bed and stretched out again. I slid my bag of toys from under the bed and pulled out a couple of lengths of rope. I last used these to tie my own legs to this bed, but it was just fuel for imagination as I masturbated. No one was there to tie my hands. Each loop was all ready to go, easy slip knots. I shoved the loop up over his right foot to his ankle, pulling the loop tight, then yanking his foot as close to the bedpost as possible. I tied it tightly. I'd have to check occasionally over the hour to make sure I didn't cut the blood flow to his feet, and I might change the knots later, but for now I wanted him to feel the tension of the rope. I did the same on the other side, pulling his legs as wide apart as he could take before I secured it to the bedpost.

"Maybe just loops I can hang onto for my hands." His pleading look as he said this struck my heart. I don't blame him for still not trusting me. I love bondage because it is the ultimate vote of trust in your lover--the complete surrender.

"Sounds good." I tied a rope to the bedpost and pulled his hand up to the slip knot, but I just put his fingers in it so that he could hold on. I did the same on the other side. "Just so you know--those are slip knots. If you put your wrists in those loops and pull tight, you will be helpless. You won't be able to get out. Now, let's cool things down so we can train you to last."

I have candles that I like for mood, even when I'm just getting myself off, some on my desk, some on the shelf, some on the bedside table. Some were fat, but the one on the bedside table was slim. I lit them and stood over him, admiring his body, wanting very much to take him in hand. But first, ice.

While I was in the kitchen filling a glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge, I wondered if I'd find him untying his legs and getting ready to leave, but when I returned, he still waited spread eagle on my bed. The candle light sculpted that slim body. My breath caught at the beauty.

I sat beside his naked hip on the bed. Here goes. How would he react? I took a chunk of ice from the glass and held it above his left nipple, giving him a moment to understand, to say no if he didn't like the idea. He just swallowed, and his body squirmed in anticipation.

"Oh!" he gasped as I pressed the ice into his nipple. It was already hard, but now goose bumps popped around both nipples, the right nipple responding sympathetically. I drew a circle with the ice all around both his pecs, before landing on the right nipple.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

Now I dragged the ice down over his flat stomach, circling his belly button before I took it to my true destination, the base of his cock.

"Wow!" he gasped. "Oh my god. You're going to, going to..."

"Cool you down."

I slid the ice chunk up his erection, making him writhe and yank at the bonds the held his legs, his hips twisting this way and that as if to shake off the ice. I bathed his erection, the cold melt water now the lubricant. Timing here was crucial and dangerous. As soon as his erection was shining wet, I dropped the ice chunk back in the glass and lunged for his cock with my warm mouth.

His cold dick stretched my jaw, but I pushed down, keeping a tight seal until the scent of sweat and the tickle of his pubic hair on my nose told me I had his whole erection. I choked just a little and slid back up again. I'm an excellent cock sucker. I got ready to lunge back down.

"No, Jamie!" he called out. "If you go down again, I'll blow!"

Okay, time to slow things down. I picked up the glass of ice chunks and started with his nipples again, loving how he twisted and turned his torso as the ice made its way back to his erection. When it was all wet again, I went back down until he edged. I did this several more times, sometimes sucking on his cold nipples, once sucking each of his cold testicles, one at a time, into my mouth. After ten minutes or more of this sweet edging, he stopped me by letting go of the loops and sitting up, breathing heavily, propping himself on his elbows to look down at his own wet body.

"Do you want me to untie your legs?"

"No, no." He slumped back and grabbed the loops again. "Can I ask, what would you do to me if you could do anything you wanted?"

"Exactly what I'm doing. I really want you to enjoy yourself so that you'll come back again. You're superhot and this is sexy fun even if I don't get off."

"No, I mean what if you had, like, a magic memory eraser, so that you could do whatever you wanted with me and when you were finished you could make me forget everything from this point on. All I would remember is orgasming. Please, the truth."

Okay. Busted. "I'd definitely strip off my clothes. My boner is absolutely squeezed so tight."

He nodded. "Okay, what else?"

He seemed sincere, but I worried that if I told him the whole truth he'd freak. Still, he'd asked. "I'd keep edging you, but yeah, you'd have to suck my cock."

"Would you want to sodomize me?" He looked away as he said that. It struck me as a very biblical way to describe the act of fucking, making it sound dirtier.

"Definitely. I'd totally tie your legs up and open so that I could fuck you. But don't worry. I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

He stared at the candle on the bed side table, avoiding my gaze. "I'm super religious. I can never agree to sodomy. The only way that could ever happen is if you just decide to do it, if I have no choice but to take it."

Wait! A fucking! Minute! It was a twisted logic but I suddenly got it. If he were tied up and forced, he could tell himself he was guilt free, that he hadn't sinned. Oh my god this guy is fucked up. How to help him?

"Caleb." I gently took his erection in hand but didn't rub it, just held it tightly, almost squeezing so that he didn't orgasm. "I want to give you two safe words. If you say

yellow light

, I'll slow down whatever I'm doing. If you say

red light

, I'll untie you immediately. Otherwise, I'll continue." I gave him one squeezing stroke, provoking a gasp, before I let him go as his whole body shuddered.