The Iny Guy

Note: This story was written for a friend who wanted to explore his submissive and masochistic side. So there's some elements of more extreme sexual interactions.

I can't remember where we met, exactly, nor when. It's as if, all of a sudden, he appeared out of nowhere and it seemed like we'd known each other forever.

We know each other well enough that I've met his wife and he's met my husband, but it's not like we ever went out as two couples together. At some point, he and I wound up working out at the same gym, so we'd seen each other naked, but we'd never messed around. He's straight, I'm gay; it just never really came up.

One day, he calls me on my cell phone while I'm at work. "Can we get together and talk privately sometime," he asks. "I have a very special proposition to make to you." I agree, and we decide to meet at my place on a Saturday afternoon.

Saturday comes. His wife is busy doing something with their kids; my husband is busy with an art project he's working on, so we have the living room to ourselves. After routine pleasantries, he finally gets up the nerve to ask me a few intimate questions.

"What do you think of my dick?" he asks.

"I'd say it's the definition of average," I reply.

"I think it's pathetically small," he says, glumly.

"Well, I've never seen you with a hardon," I say, "but unless you shrink when you get hard, you're still pretty average."

"Look, man, I think I can trust you with the secrets I've never told anyone else," he blurts out. "I'm not 100% straight. I used to mess around with guys sometimes, back in college. But I haven't done anything like that in years."

"That's nice to know," I reply, "and I'm honored that you feel you can trust me. I promise you I will respect that trust. So what is it that you want, from me or someone else?"

"Um, I want to watch a guy with a big dick fuck my wife," he finally replies.

"Ah, cuckolding!" I say. "That's a very common fantasy for straight guys. I suppose it happens with gay couples as well, but just about everyone I know is in an open relationship. It kind of loses its meaning."

He nods. "Are you into BDSM?" he asks.

"Well," I reply, "I've been known to dabble in it from time to time, but it's not the focus of my sex life."

He looks disappointed.

"What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"I want to be restrained. And maybe hurt some."

"Well, that could certainly happen, depending on what you want in terms of being hurt."

He looks confused and a little embarrassed.

"Why don't you come down to the basement with me," I say, standing up. "We have a playroom down there, so you can get an idea of what you might like."

He follows me down the stairs. Behind the garage area, there's what local real estate people call a "bonus room," meaning that it's not part of the regular living area of the house. Some people convert them to illegal apartments, others make it them into home offices or hobby rooms. I guess you could say that we use ours for certain particular hobbies.

I unlock the door and turn on the lights. It's mostly indirect mood lighting, though just about any lighting condition is possible, including a spotlight (my husband's ex always liked being on stage). There's a queen-sized bed at one end; a St. Andrew's Cross along another wall, and shelves and cabinets with various implements of sexual fun. An e-stim kit. Several floggers, whips, and even a cane. Another shelf has just about every kind and size of dildo that you could imagine. And at the opposite end of the room from the bed is a ceiling-mounted leather sling. Next to that is a very comfortable rim-chair. Comfortable for

both

parties, I might add.

"We got a lot of this stuff when friends moved away, or, you know, died," I explain. He's too in awe to reply to do anything but nod.

"So do you tie people to that X-thing?" he asks, pointing to the St. Andrew's Cross.

"That's right!"

"I want to try that," he says, excitedly.

I'm hesitant to let this go any further. I have a strong sense that he doesn't know what he's getting himself into. But his eagerness persuades me to just give him a little taste-test of this side of his sexuality.

Without being told, he strips off all his clothes. I'm surprised, but, I suppose, not

that

surprised. As if he's read the instruction book, he stands in front of the cross, his arms and legs in place over its four limbs. I get some lengths of soft cloth.

"I'm going to bind you now," I tell him. "We're not having a real scene, so I'm not going to impose a safe word this time; 'Stop' will be enough. If you get uncomfortable or scared, just stay 'Stop,' okay?"

I remove my shirt and footwear, leaving just my jeans in place. I start by gently tying his wrists to the cross. I add additional binding to just above his elbow. He struggles just a little, but he's not able to move.

"Cool," he says.

I pass a length of cloth around his waist and secure his hips to the crotch of the cross. His cock is starting to stiffen as I get on my knees and bind his legs and ankles to the lower parts of the cross.

When I stand up, he's fully erect, dripping precum, and with an ecstatic smile on his face. "Are you okay?" I ask, even though I think I know the answer.

"Oh, yes, a million times yes!" he replies.

I grab a stick that has a feather at one end. He quickly guesses what's coming. I start tickling his underarms. He giggles. I tickle his belly. He squirms. I gently pass the feather over his balls. They retract all the way into his body. I tease the head of his cock with the feather, and he lets out a scream. I stop, just to be sure he's okay. The expression on his face assures me that he is.

I decide to take things in a different direction. I strip off my jeans, revealing my semi-erect cock. I move close to him and grab both of our dicks in my hand. The heat coming off his cock is intense. His precum is oozing onto my cock, and I start to drip a bit as well. I reach over to a small table nearby, grab a bottle of lube, and apply it to our dicks. I start jacking us both off, using both of my hands to hold our cocks tightly together. Almost as soon as I start, his body starts trembling and within seconds, his cock is pulsing as he ejaculates a good five or six shots. Being the little vixen that I am, I continue to stimulate the head of his dick after his orgasm. I know just how unbearably pleasurable--or pleasurably unbearable--that can be.

After his body stops trembling from the orgasm I just gave him, I help him down to the floor. He lies on his back, sweat glistening from his entire body, his exhausted dick shrinking rapidly into his plentiful pubic hair.

I stand over him, and unleash a stream of urine on his exhausted body, splashing his abdomen, his chest, and his face. He opens his mouth and swallows my pale yellow stream, and I realize that he has done this before. When I've finished and shaken the last drops onto his chin, he explains, simply, "My wife likes making me drink her pee."

I sit next to him. He's staring at me with a mix of puzzlement and lust.

"I want you to punch me in the nuts," he says, suddenly.

I'm slightly taken aback, but he wouldn't be the first person I've known into cock-and-ball torture.

"Well," I say, "we could give that a try at some point. To start, I'd rather grab them tight and pull them."

"That sounds cool," he replies. "Right now, my balls are really tight, so you can't grab them."

"Not a problem," I say.

A door in the corner of our basement playroom leads to a spare bathroom, with a fairly large shower. I lead him into the bathroom, turn on the water, and step inside the shower.

He notices a diversion valve on the shower head, with a long flexible tube and a peculiar oblong fitting with lots of holes.

"What the fuck is this?" he asks, holding the nozzle in his hand.

"It's a Shower Shot," I reply. "It's used to evacuate your lower bowels before anal play."

He lets go of the nozzle as if it gave him an electric shock. "Relax, it's clean!" I say with a chuckle.

By now the warm water has loosened his scrotum to the point that his balls are hanging as low as they probably get.

"You ready?" I ask.

"Yeah," he replies.

I reach over and cup his balls in my right hand. They're average sized with a nice heft in my hand. I encircle my thumb and forefinger around the top of his sack and start to squeeze. He shifts uncomfortably, but his cock is starting to get stiff again. I gently slide my hand down until his nuts are pushed against the bottom of his scrotum. I start to pull them, and he gasps. I wrap my remaining fingers around his balls and start to squeeze. I gradually increase the pressure as he shifts even more uncomfortably and groan.

By now I'm gripping them very tightly, and I ask if he's okay.

"Oh hell yes," he replies, with a grimace. Without warning, I start slapping his balls with my left hand while they're still gripped in my right hand. I slap them gently at first, but with increasing impact. He flinches and cries out with each impact, but his swelling cock betrays that he's enjoying the pain.

I release his balls from my hand. In relief he grabs my shoulders and start sobbing uncontrollably, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "You'll be okay," I reassure him, stroking his head and holding him tightly against me.

Eventually his sobbing stops and he pulls away from me. His facial expression is one of gratitude and relief and a little bit of awe. "That's just what I wanted," he says.

"Good," I reply, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. He turns off the water and follows suit. As we dry off, I admire his lean, lightly furry body. I generally like more hair on a man, but in this case, it's not what I want but what he wants. I get the feeling that he thinks I can give him exactly that.

Back in the playroom, we both put on our clothes. "I want to do this again, and more," he says.

"I think we can arrange that," I reply.

"How about next Saturday?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm free," I say, "We can reconfirm during the week."

Fully dressed, he tells me it's time for him to get home. To my surprise, he kisses me goodbye. It's a nice kiss with a touch of eroticism; just the sort that gets my dick hard.

-----

The following Thursday, he calls to reconfirm. I tell him we're all set.

Early Saturday afternoon, he shows up at my house. As he enters, he kisses me again, just like he did when he left the prior week. I'm kind of touched.

This time, there are no pleasantries in the living room. In fact, he leads the way down the stairs to the basement and the playroom. I enter behind him and shut the door.

He whirls around and says, excitedly, "I know exactly what I want you to do. I want to be emasculated!"

My mind races. "Emasculated" can entail a lot of things, from humiliation and role play all the way to the real thing. I don't think he wants anything that extreme, but I want to be sure. "Okay, uhhh, what are we talking about here?"

He strips off his clothes to reveal that he has removed every last bit of body hair. His pale skin glows; there's not a hair to be seen. "See? I took away all my big boy hair!"

I shudder slightly upon hearing that phrase, but I don't want to dampen his excitement. "Well, you certainly look like a prepubescent boy," is the best I can muster.

"I want you to hurt my balls again," he tells me. "I want to hurt so much I feel like throwing up. You know what I mean." Having been kicked in the balls in college when dancing with a cheerleader, I certainly do!

"Okay, but let's not just jump into the deep end of the pool," I say. I'm still clothed while he's completely naked. I embrace him and we start making out. Lots of deep kissing and tongue play. I nibble his ears, he bites on my beard. I lick his neck, he runs his fingers through my hair. He strips my clothes off, releasing my now very stiff cock. His is equally hard.

We move to the bed and continue to make out. I lick his now hairless armpits, he plays with his nipples. I start sucking his cock, and my beard tickles his soft smooth skin. He shivers as I take his completely hairless balls in my mouth; he moves around so that we're doing the old 69. His cock sucking is adequate; I make a mental note to teach him a few tricks. I pull his legs apart and behold his completely hairless asshole. I tease him with my nose, my moustache, my tongue, and he starts moaning uncontrollably. My tongue makes a deeper penetration into his ass, and he actually lest out a yelp.

"I want you to fuck me," he says. "Right now!"

He doesn't have to ask me twice! I insert one, then two, then three fingers into his ass; he whimpers louder with each additional finger. I grab some lube and make everything slippery, then push my cock into him without difficulty.

"Yeah, fuck my boypussy," he calls out. I lean over to kiss him while reaming his ass just so I don't have to hear that word again. My hairy belly rubs against his cock and suddenly there's a pool of cum between us. He looks like he's about to faint. His orgasmic spasms cause his ass to clamp down on my cock, triggering a sudden and intense orgasm as I fill his ass with my cum.

My cock exits his asshole with--I swear--a popping sound. I want to wait and watch my cum oozing out of his hole, but I really need to lie down. I collapse next to him and throw my arm over his still-heaving chest.

Finally, he speaks. "My wife uses a strap-on to fuck me pretty regularly, but that's nothing like the real thing!"

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," I reply. "I know I sure did!"

"I want her to watch you fuck me," he says, suddenly. "Can she come with me next time?"

"I can't see why not," I reply.

"Our kids are going to be staying with their grandma next weekend. I hope you can be free then."

"That shouldn't be a problem," I say. I'm not always keen on performing sexually in front of a woman, but it's not like I didn't have lots of sex with women when I was younger.

"Will you kick me in the balls now?" he asks, now that he's recovered.

"Sure," I say. "Let's use the cross again."

He stands in front of it as before. "This time, I'm going to restrain you more tightly," I advise him. "What do you want as a safe word? A word you're unlikely to say in ecstasy but that you'll remember and that doesn't sound like something else."

"Rabbit," he says, firmly. That sounds fine to me.

This time, I pull out the leather straps, and tie his arms and legs to the cross at his wrists and ankles, just below his elbows and knees, and around his chest and his waist. His cock is stiffening again, and the smell of the leather is having the same effect on me.

"Are you ready?" I ask.

"Yes," he replies.

I start out by grabbing his balls in much the same way as I did the previous weekend in the shower. I lock eyes with him. He squirms against the restraints, but he's definitely enjoying himself. After I've given them a good pull, I grab them and start slapping them, again just like I'd done the week before. Instead of flinching and yelling out in pain, he responds with "Yeah, harder. Hit me harder!"

I start to use my knee on his balls. I can tell that it hurts more than my slaps, but he still eggs me on.

"Kick my nuts!" he demands, sweating profusely and straining against the leather straps. I do. My first kick is fairly gentle; his face tells me it was more than he expected.

"You okay?" I ask.

"I haven't said 'rabbit' yet!" he growls reproachfully.

Over the next sixty seconds, I kick him four more times, a little harder each time. The last one seems to have gone past his limit. He's nearly retching in pain, but manages to croak "RABBIT! RABBIT! RABBIT!"

"Good boy," I say, moving in to remove the leather straps and kiss him. Once he's free, he collapses into my arms again, sobbing even more uncontrollably than he had in the shower.

I guide him over to the bed. His crotch is red and swollen from the impact, but his cock is as hard as I've ever seen it. I carefully lean over and take it into my mouth, gently working my oral magic on him. It doesn't take long until I get my reward.

We remain on the bed for an hour or more, dozing. He take up residence with his shoulder in my armpit, and I hold him in my arms as tenderly as if he were a baby.

After a drowsy hour or so, he tells me that it's time for him to leave. We get up and put on our clothes. "I can't wait for next weekend!" he exclaims, excitedly.

"Between now and then, I want you to think very carefully of what you want to happen. Write it down, and give it to me at the gym."

He nods in agreement.

"I don't think my husband will join us," I add. "He's not comfortable having sex in front of women ever since he divorced his wife."

"He won't mind that you're doing stuff with a woman around, will he?" he asks with some concern.

"No, he won't. I'll send him off to go play with one of his fuck buddies if he doesn't have other plans."

We've arrived at the front door, and kiss goodbye.

"Bring me that list by Thursday," I say.

"I will," he says, heading toward his car.

To be continued...