Warning: This story includes elements of non-consent/reluctance and light bondage.
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I drop by the 7-11 to use the ATM, leaving a couple of my friends in the car. I notice you buying a six-pack, and your dark good looks definitely pique my interest. You turn to leave, and I follow you. Your shorts cling to your ass appealingly, and your hairy legs promise a densely furry package. I hop in the car as you turn out of the parking lot and walk down the street, presumably to your place. My buddies are very turned on by you. One mentions that you were sporting a nice bulge in the front of those shorts. We decide that you're just asking for a fun evening, even if you don't know it yet.
We slowly drive down the street, keeping our distance as you walk. Streetlights are few and far between in this part of town, and there's nobody else on the street. Two of my friends and I quietly get out of the car while the driver keeps moving slowly with the lights out. I take the lead. "Hey man," I call out, "I think you dropped something at the store." You turn and look at me, as I hold out a five-dollar bill. "I don't think so," you say. At that moment, my two friends grab you. They slap a pair of handcuffs on your wrists and secure your arms behind your back. I open the back door of the car and they drag you in. I hop in the front, and in no time, we speed off towards our destination.
"What the fuck," you say, clearly pissed off and scared. "Don't worry, man. You'll be fine. We're just going to have a little fun," my friends say. The two in the back seat each grab a beer from your six pack, open them, and slam them down. You realize that struggling will get you nowhere, so you give up.
Within minutes, we've arrived in a parking area behind a row of nondescript shops in what was once a bustling commercial strip. We're heading to the basement of what is currently a dress shop frequented by ladies "of a certain age." I rent the basement from the building's owner, whom I've known since his son and I went to high school together.
I hop out to open the door to the basement, while my buddies drag you out of the car and in and down the narrow stairs to the basement. It's a sparsely furnished place, but what there is indicates that it's a pleasure hideaway rather than an actual living space.
There are a couple of couches, a king-sized bed, a sling, and cabinets which hold all sorts of instruments of nefarious purpose. One corner has been enclosed and converted into a sizable bathroom, with a large walk-in shower.
I stand you up and get up close to your face. "Damn, you're hot," I say, looking directly into your hazel eyes. I can't help but notice your plentiful stubble. You're still angry and a bit nervous, but you're starting to calm down. "What the fuck do you want?" you ask. "We're just going to show you a good time," my friend Eric replies.
Ah, yes, my friends. There's Eric, a short, well-built Latino guy of 29 with a bushy black moustache and a nicely hairy body. And Stu, 31, a wiry Englishman, nice short beard, lots of body hair, and an eight-inch uncut cock surrounded by a trimmed bush. Finally, there's Brian (the driver), a bear in every sense of the word. At 22, he's got the build of a linebacker, a thick curly beard, hair everywhere, and a cock as thick as a beer can. Oh, and me, I'm Jake, 27, long red beard, the build of a former swimmer, average in the cock department, but with a twisted sense of fun.
Brian gets things started by stripping off his shirt, revealing his pierced nipples and plentiful tattoos, which are barely visible beneath all of his body hair. I follow suit, except I take off everything, standing naked as the day I was born. You're starting to get the idea. "Hold on," you say, "I'm not queer, guys! This ain't my thing!" "Relax, mate," Stu says. "You'll be fine." He grabs your ass. "Nice buns!"
I kneel down in front of you, and pull your shorts down. My reward is instantaneous. Your cock bounces, your thick, black pubes glisten, and your balls hang seductively in their lightly furry sack. Your cock is of average size and circumcised with a prominent coronal ridge. I very tentatively take the head of your cock in my mouth, teasing your frenulum. The taste is an addictive mix of musk, sweat, and a hint of piss. Your dick starts to stiffen, even though that's the last thing you want.
After teasing your cock with my tongue, I abruptly lunge forward so that you hit the back of my throat and my nose is buried in your fragrant bush. You gasp as I start to squeeze the tip of your dick with my throat. I reach behind and grab your ass, delighted to find that your buns are covered with a fine dusting of hair.
Brian comes over and after removing the handcuffs lifts your arms up while Stu pulls your shirt over your head. He strokes your lightly furry chest, stopping to tweak your nipples. Brian leans over and buries his face in your surprisingly hairy armpit. Soon all that hair is wet with his spit as he slobbers and drools while he inhales your musky scent. Stu begins teasing your nipples with his tongue, and I'm rewarded with a sudden swelling of your dick.
Brian and I trade places. By now, your cock is fully erect. Brian takes it in his mouth and with little effort, deep throats until his nose is buried in your bush.
I've turned my attention to your other armpit. I'm transfixed by your musk; not stink, just the savory smell of a man who skips the deodorants and body sprays that are far too popular these days. I keep inhaling deeply, and feel my own cock start to get hard.
