More Than I Bargained For

Over the next twenty minutes I teased his hole mercilessly, just beginning to slip inside then pulling out again (that took some willpower, I can tell you!) He was sweating and nearly crying with frustration, and precum was pouring out of the head of his cock, which hadn't been touched in all that time. I stood up and bent over him, taking a deep snort in each of his armpits. My own precum burped out and pooled on his stomach. Looking at his face I could see that his eyes seemed focused somewhere inside of him, and he was desperately willing himself not to touch his cock or mine and bring things to an exceedingly messy conclusion.

Sitting down again I placed my cockhead just at his entrance, grabbed hold of his thighs and pulled him gently towards me. If I live to be a hundred I shan't forget the sensation of sliding into his hot, lubed, gripping tunnel, nor the expression on his face as I bottomed out inside him, my balls trapped under his sweating cheeks. I didn't move a muscle.

His face went from pleased, to surprised, to almost pained, then his eyes opened in wonder and his mouth rounded into a silent exclamation. A thick splodge of cum drooled out of his cock slit and flowed down his shaft. We both held our breath, waiting for the inevitable, both knowing that nothing on earth could now stop him coming. His eyes opened wider and wider, and began to roll back in his head, as a moaning sound got louder and louder in his throat and finally burst forth in a great roar as the dam exploded. "Oh ... my ... god ... fuck! ... FUCK!! ... Aaaaaaagh!!!"

The first shot was more like a jet and reached as high as my eyes, then two more lower ones, then a positive rain of cum splattered all over his chest and belly. Such a powerful orgasm had an effect inside him, too. His channel squeezed my cock so hard that it hurt, then rippled over my already super-sensitive cockhead. It was too much. Without thrusting or even moving, I could feel the cum building up and travelling through my tubes. There was an instant of stillness, then it was as if I'd had a seizure. Every muscle contracted at the same time, all of them intent on one thing - forcing as much of my spunk as far into him as possible. I yelled wordlessly as the strongest orgasm I'd ever had ripped through my body. It didn't even feel like separate jets, but as if all my seminal fluids had been sucked out of me all at once by some mighty milking machine.

I collapsed forwards on to his belly, and passed out for a while. Whether it was for seconds or hours I couldn't have told you, but when I came to, we were welded together with Sean's drying spunk. I sat up. He was asleep, but still holding his legs up; I was deeply embedded in him, and (amazingly) mostly erect. It felt wonderful. I began to thrust gently into him, my cock squishing through the gallons of cum I seemed to have deposited there. It was a fantastically sexy feeling.

His eyes opened, he blinked and looked somewhat surprised, then grinned. "A hard man is good to find," he misquoted, and then punned, "and they don't come much harder than you!"

"If your fingers aren't squeezing my nipples in the next five seconds I'm going to pull out and let you finish yourself off."

He took me at my word, spread some of his spunk on his fingers, and started to twist and squeeze my nipples. My cock got even harder and the sensation from my nipples shot right down to my toes, making my cock tingle rhythmically on the way. I continued to slide in and out on the wave of my cum. His cock unglued itself from his belly and started to rise, the foreskin pulling back and revealing his cummy cockhead. Not for the first time, I regretted that I wasn't flexible enough to suck him while fucking him, so had to make do with my hand, rotating it round his extremely sensitive glans, which made his hips buck and his voice moan.

Eventually I settled into a rhythm - just holding my fingers in a loose ring round his slippery glans, so that I was scarcely touching him, I used the motion of my in-thrust to push his cock through the ring, and my out-thrust to let it slip back. After coming so hard earlier, I knew that it would take me a while to build up again, and I didn't want him to come too soon and go off the idea of being fucked. This made him pour precum, which kept my fingers slippery.

Sean closed his eyes in ecstasy. "Open your eyes," I murmured, "look into my eyes as I fuck you and make you mine. I want to see every atom of emotion as you experience it." The bond between our eyes was almost strong enough to touch. I sent the enormous love I felt for this wonderful man, as well as the plain lust that gripped my spasming body, and received back such a look of adoration that my mind went into overdrive.

Both of us could only take a limited amount of these feelings, both emotional and physical. I felt my cockhead swell inside him as it sloshed through his cummy insides, and the wider it became the more strongly it scraped on the walls of his chute and across his prostate. I fucked a little faster and tightened the ring of my fingers. His expression became disbelieving, then almost panicky, then totally astonished and he cried out, "Now! Do it now! Fuck me!! Fuck me harder ... please!!!"

But there was no need for me to change what I was doing at all. He scrunched up his face as the messages from his cock became overwhelming and he began to come - internally at first, with rippling contractions, then the slit in his cockhead opened and I knew the time had arrived. One final deeper plunge and I felt my spunk exploding into him like bullets. "I love you Sean, oh I love you!!" as I gripped his cockhead and rotated it once in my greasy hand. With an agonised cry the spunk started to shoot out of him like a firework and pour over my wanking hand.

As his incoherent noises died down he turned his head to one side, then looked back up at me. There were tears in his eyes, but I could tell that they were tears of joy. "Even by the standards of our sexual activities that was outstanding! Thank you. And Jethro, you already know that I love you - I've loved you ever since you first held me in your arms."

It was my turn to have tears in my eyes.

4: Saturday night and Sunday morning

After Sean's mysterious phone calls on Saturday - which he wouldn't tell me anything about in spite of both entreaties and threats - he made me sit down on the couch, not touching me at all, while he began to explain some of what he had planned. "I'm going to have to trust you this week: I *could* have bought a chastity device ..." My cock surged erect. "... but I understand that they're uncomfortable and get smelly if you keep them on for longer than a day. So this is how it's going to be: you don't wank, you don't fuck me (or anybody else), you don't go into the pub for a quick blowjob, you don't have a wet dream; in a word, you *don't come*!"

I think I whimpered a bit as I asked, "For how long?"

"All this week. Next Saturday afternoon and evening are when you're going to have your fantasy fulfilled ..."

He was about to continue when I stood up and shouted, "A *week*?! A fucking *week*?!! I haven't gone more than 48 hours without coming for ..." I did a quick calculation, trying to subtract 12 from 38 while in a totally flustered state, "... 26 *years*! I can't do it, I'll go mental!"

"But you want me to give you a hands-free orgasm while I fuck you ...?"

"Oh, yes, yes. But a *week*? Can't I just start this chastity lark on Thursday? I'd still be so horny by Saturday that you'd only have to *look* at me sexily and I'd spray my jeans with cum!"

"No, this is what I've decided. Take it or leave it. And if it's any comfort, I will only come once this week - you'll see why, later."

"Shit! You drive a hard bargain, Sean. You'll be able to use my cock as a power-hammer by next Saturday!"

"That's the idea. But you're going to have fun every evening this week; you're just not going to release all that spunk. And we can only cuddle with clothes on (even in bed - get out pyjamas for both of us); because I know that a horny fucker like you will have difficulty restraining himself!"

===

On Sunday morning we got up late, me with a hard-on that you could already use as a dibber to plant seedlings. Sean had made porridge, thick and creamy; the only problem was that it made me think of spunk - *my* spunk - and how my spunk would have to wait and collect until Saturday. An endless week stretched ahead of me, full of erections I couldn't satisfy. "Can I ask you a question? How are you going to give me fun without making me come? How are you going to stop me having a crafty wank when I'm at work?"

"That's two questions. At work you're just going to have to rely on willpower ..." I snorted in amazement, "... yes, I know you have the willpower of a randy gnat, but if you want the end result enough you'll do it. And I'll know if you've cheated, you never could fool me when you've had a surreptitious fumble. Remember that if you cheat, next Saturday's plan will be cancelled."

"So what about the 'fun' part?"

"That's for me to know and arrange, and for you to find out: gradually."

"So, does this 'fun' start tonight?"

"Oh yes, it'll be arriving soon."

"What will? What the fuck have you planned?"

Just then the doorbell rang. Sean leapt up to answer it, and returned holding a thin package wrapped in a big brown envelope. Intrigued, I said, "What's that?"

"Oh, just some things that I borrowed from Jim." (Jim was a randy 55-year-old who lived near us. Occasionally he joined in when we had a group session, but more often he just sat in an armchair and watched.)

"When do we start?"

"After you've washed up, cleaned the bathroom, tidied up all your papers off the living-room table. That'll take you until mid-afternoon, then we'll see ..."

"You know that I'm going to *kill* you before the week is out, if you keep being so mysterious, don't you?" I said with a grin.

"Tough. Get used to it. Anyway, cleaning and clearing up should sublimate some of that excess sexual energy into practical effort."

"Oooh, 'sublimate', that's a new word. Swallowed another dictionary, have we?"

"Even your pitiful attempts at sarcasm won't make me rise to the bait!" Sean kissed me (chastely, on the cheek), smiled, and continued, "Well, you'd better get on with your chores."

It's not easy doing housework with a raging erection. For some reason, the thought that I *couldn't* have sex for a week was making me even more horny than usual. While washing up my cock kept poking the sink in front of me, and it was *so* tempting just to rub it - just a little - along the edge of the work surface. But some (tiny) rational part of my mind said, 'You know you wouldn't stop with just rubbing it a little, you'd carry on until you spunked in your trackies, and that would be the end of the fun.' And I have to admit that I was curious about how I'd feel without sex for a week, as well as full of anticipation about what next Saturday might bring.

By mid-afternoon I'd just finished putting away the last of my papers and gardening catalogues when Sean called me for afternoon tea. "Oh, you're going to torment me with cucumber sandwiches, are you?" I answered playfully.

"Interesting idea, but no. Tea will be served in the bedroom."

'Bedroom = sex' my mind shouted at me. I suppressed it with difficulty and wandered into the bedroom. Sean had rearranged the room and brought in the wide-screen television in place of the tiny box we usually had there. The lights were very dim, and I couldn't quite see what he'd done about the furniture. He sat me down in the one comfortable chair in the room and told me to relax and drink my tea.

Coming up behind me he slipped a leather blindfold over my eyes and settled it securely so that I could see nothing. He helped me stand up, and did some furniture moving, then pulled down my trackies before lowering me into the big carver chair from the dining room. The seat was cold on my hot balls! I could feel the wide wooden arms under my forearms. He soon wrapped velcro bands round my wrists and the chair arms, then I felt him bend down and attach leather ankle cuffs, which pulled my legs wide apart. I just love being gently restrained, and my cock burped precum (my trackies were already quite soaked with precum).

A bit more furniture moving. Silence for a while, then a soft kiss on the back of my neck made my hair stand on end. What on earth was he going to do? Some clicks and whirrs sounded, my blindfold was suddenly removed, and I found myself staring at the immense TV screen on which a really hardcore gay porn DVD was showing. A darkened warehouse seemed to have nude men in bondage round the walls, some standing, some kneeling, one spread-eagled on a wooden St Andrew's cross.

They were scarcely illuminated, but in the centre with a brilliant spotlight shining on it was a bondage bench - the sort where you kneel at one end and your body is strapped down horizontally over the flat part. Tied firmly to it was a tall skinhead (he looked a bit like me, I realised), and he'd obviously been there for some time. Sweat was pouring off his sides, and his cock, which was pulled backwards between his legs, had dripped a pool of cum and precum. A large vibrating dildo was stuffed in his arse, and from time to time an exceptionally handsome, well-muscled, and *hugely* erect man striped the skinhead's back with a leather flogger.

I whimpered. My cock pulsed and poured precum which just dribbled uselessly on to the chair and dripped down on to the floor.

"Remember: you're not to come!"

"I *hate* you! Just you wait until you're helpless, then see what I'll do to you, you sadistic sod!"

Sean grinned. "But it'll all be worthwhile next Saturday ..."

Just then the sight of the skinhead in the film coming again distracted me. The whole bondage bench shook as he roared through his orgasm and the pool beneath him increased. I was just *so* horny that I thought I would cry, or faint.

"The DVD is about two-and-a-half hours; enjoy, but don't come!" and Sean smiled sweetly, gave me a chaste kiss, and left the room.

Normally, in the course of watching a whole porn DVD with at least one hand free, I would come at least three times. This was *such* agony, but in spite of myself I couldn't look away from the screen or close my eyes. Sean had chosen well: he knew *exactly* what would turn me on the most.

Eternities (and a whole DVD film) later, Sean returned. If I had been less stubborn I would have *begged*, I would have sold my soul, my grandma, and all the unborn children that I was unlikely to have, just to be able to come! But I remained grimly silent.

Sean knelt down in front of me and licked the large puddle of my precum off the chair seat. "Delicious!" he pronounced it. But he didn't touch my cock at all. Then from behind me he slipped the blindfold on again. There were some faint clinking sounds, and suddenly my cock and balls were surrounded with crushed ice! The room (and Sean) learnt some new and very inventive ways of combining swearwords, but when I stopped shouting I realised that it had had the (presumably) intended effect of shrivelling my cock to its smallest possible dimensions, and the urge to come had receded.

Carefully and gently, Sean removed the blindfold and the restraints, led me to the bed and helped me to lie down flat on my back. I was truly exhausted with the sheer emotional strain of nearly three hours of severe mental stimulation, and went to sleep like a baby.

5: Monday

Fortunately, the work I had to do on Monday was intensive and physical - digging and raking - and although I was always aware of my hard-on in the jockstrap that Sean had made me wear, I didn't have the time or energy to think about rubbing myself a little ... OK, more than a little ... and making myself come. By 4 o'clock I was shattered and extremely sweaty. At home Sean sniffed my armpits and said, "You know, I think you've converted me to being hooked on armpit smell." Precum surged into my jockstrap at this idea. "But be a good boy," (I growled at his tone) "and go and have a shower. We don't want your smell to put off your customers, do we?"

'Customers?' thought I, 'is he going to rent me out for the evening? If so, I'm certain to come as soon as anybody starts playing with me.' But I went off and had a shower, sniffing my own armpits and jockstrap first, and came back feeling much refreshed, wearing a clean jockstrap that Sean had left out for me. He had made a wonderful pasta salad with chunks of tuna and minute tomatoes with basil leaves as flavouring, and I tucked in heartily.

"Now, tell me about tonight ..." I began, but he put his finger to his lips to silence me. "Just wait and see," he said, enigmatically. After a short rest he led me into the bedroom and made me kneel on the floor with my head resting on the side of the bed, still wearing just my jockstrap. He attached leather wrist cuffs to me and fastened them together behind me with spring clips. "Open wide," he said, "*very* wide," and I looked up to see a leather hood with an attached O-ring which he forced between my teeth. The rest of the hood slipped over my head and was zipped up behind (that was when I noticed that the hood had no nose-holes). I have worn an O-ring gag before, and it's amazing just how quickly the drool starts to build up and slither out of your mouth when you can't use your tongue or swallow properly. I hoped that Sean had had the sense to put a towel underneath me, or the carpet would look as if snails had been crawling all over it.

I couldn't see, and couldn't hear very well, but was aware of some movement and muttering in the room. Then someone put his hand on top of my head and very slowly fed a fairly thin cock in through the O-ring until it reached the back of my throat. I'm good at deep-throating, but could tell that this cock was nowhere near all in yet, so I breathed hard and swallowed. And again. And again. 'Fuck, how long *is* this cock? I've never had one so far down my throat before.' At last I felt his balls bang on my chin, but was rapidly beginning to run out of air. I tried pulling my head backwards, but it was resting against the bed, and nothing happened. I tried turning my head sideways to make the cock leave my throat, but the hand on my head stopped me. I tried to make noises to warn him that I was about to pass out, but this just had the effect of gargling round the cock shaft.

Just as the bright lights at the back of my eyes were beginning to dim, the cock was withdrawn until only the head was in my mouth. In relief I sucked in great blasts of air, but moments later felt the cock slide in and down my throat again. I've heard that having an orgasm whilst being asphyxiated is an incredibly intense feeling, and certainly my cock was throbbing, untouched, and leaking precum into my jockstrap, but there wasn't enough sensation on it to make me come. I groaned, but that only served to make the cock harder and slip even further down my throat. After four or five of these breath-stopping moments I realised that he was timing himself very carefully (probably by holding his own breath), letting me breathe well before I would have passed out, and I actually began to enjoy myself (in between the panic stages).

After what felt like hours, but was probably only about ten minutes, he slid his cock out of my throat and just rubbed it on the top of my tongue. I was desperate to be able to suck it, but the O-ring pressed down on my tongue. Tangy precum was being dribbled all over the inside of my mouth, and I did my best to swallow it, moaning as best I could out of sheer frustration. He teased me like this for ages, seeming to enjoy my moans, then gradually picked up the pace. From the sheer rigidity of his cockhead I could tell he was about to come, and hoped that he wouldn't pull out to do so. And he didn't! Without warning my mouth was flooded with five huge forceful shots of spunk (the first one nearly choked me, as I was breathing in at the time). When he finished coming and slipped his cock out, he held me under my chin and tilted my head up. It was swallow or drown! Of course I gulped it down as best I could, savouring the almost nutty taste of his mixed cum and precum. Delicious!