More Than I Bargained For

Someone (I could tell it was Sean from the scent of his body) lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the bed, and said, "Don't breathe, I'm going to spray your mouth." A very welcome fine spray of ice-cold water filled my mouth; a lot poured straight out, but some I gratefully swallowed.

Back on my knees again, another hand holding my hair, and a really fat cock now eased through my O-ring. It was so fat, in fact, that as soon as the head was in there was no room round it to let air in, so the panic of non-breathing started immediately. As I couldn't move my head, I waved my cuffed arms frantically from side to side behind my back as a signal. He seemed to get the point, and withdrew a little. I could feel him wanking himself slowly, and from time to time precum dripped on to my tongue. Most men's precum is extremely sweet, but this was bitter and horrible, so I tried not to swallow any of it. Even through my mask I could hear the grunting noises getting louder as he came closer and closer to orgasm, and I tried not to think of how bitter his cum would taste.

But suddenly his cock was gone and he was no longer holding my head. I drooled out as much of the nasty precum as I could, without being too obvious about it. The grunting noises were still getting louder, and I assumed he would spray my mask when he came, but the front of my jockstrap was pulled open and I felt great blobs of hot thick cum falling on to my exposed cock. I gave a sort of strangled moan as my cock throbbed with the idea of adding to the spunk myself, but managed to get myself under control again. The elastic waistband of the jockstrap snapping back on to my belly soon put me off that idea, anyway.

This session was like Goldilocks and the Three Bears: the first was too long, the second was too fat, but the third - oh, the third was just perfect! As well as liking fresh armpit, there is that wonderful smell of hot confined ball-musk, and this man had it to perfection. Just being near his crotch, even breathing through my mouth, his scent filled me, and when he slid a medium width, medium length cock into my mouth it tasted as good as the rest of him smelled. My own cock, sliding around in the jockstrap in a pool of someone else's cum, reacted fiercely. He didn't need to hold my head, I wasn't going anywhere until this fantastic cock had given up its nectar!

He took his time, obviously enjoying himself immensely. His precum was delicious, and I thought to myself that after this was over, I would get Sean to set me up for an evening with this man, private and unmasked, and I'd do a *really* good job of sucking him off. After a while he put his hands gently on the sides of my head and began to thrust in and out more forcefully. My mind drifted off as I imagined being in a 69 with him on top, thrusting his lovely cock in and out of my throat while licking the head of my cock. This made me moan, and the vibration on his cock was clearly the last straw. He pulled his cock back until it just rested on my tongue, gave a high-pitched shout, and absolutely sprayed the whole inside of my mouth with spunk. He can't have come for weeks! The taste and smell of him filled my mouth and the back of my nose, and to avoid losing any of this special meal I tilted my head back a bit so that it all pooled where I could swallow it. His spunk tasted of nutmeg and cinnamon and almonds, and I wanted more and more of it.

But all good things come (cum?) to an end, and his cock softened and slid out of my mouth. Sean held me again and lifted me up to sit on the edge of the bed. "Don't breathe," he said, but I twisted my head away so that he couldn't spray my mouth - I wanted this taste to stay with me as long as possible. More murmuring in the room, then I felt hands undoing the straps of my hood. "Close your eyes for a minute," said Sean, "otherwise the light's going to blind you." It was such a relief to get rid of the O-ring gag; if you've never worn one, you can have no idea how uncomfortable it is to have your mouth held open helplessly for so long. After a while I opened my eyes to see my lover's face close to mine, looking at me with some concern.

"Thank you," I said, "especially for that last one. He was *special* - I want more of him!" Sean looked relieved and kissed me gently on my sore lips. I trembled with lust; if he had only *touched* my cock just then I would have exploded. Looking round the room, I saw that we were alone. "Who were they, where did they go?"

"Never you mind that, you'll see them again, later in the week."

I groaned as I remembered that it was only Monday. Could I really survive another four days of this before getting my reward?

That night I didn't sleep well at all. Vivid dreams of cocks and spunk afflicted me when I *was* asleep, and awake I was permanently aware of my erection. Quite early on Tuesday morning I rolled over and held Sean, and said, "What's planned for today, then?"

"Nothing at all!" was his surprising answer. He grinned. "You're having a rest day to let your hormones die down. Can't have you wasting all this effort with a spontaneous orgasm, can we?"

"I'm going to kill you," I muttered. "Just wait - revenge will be *very* sweet!" But thoughts of what I might do to Sean to get my own back were so erotic that I had to have a really cold shower to calm myself before work.

6: Wednesday

Of course I woke up with a magnificent erection. Sean pulled the waistband of my pyjamas out and inspected it. "Ripening nicely," he said (cruelly using one of my gardening terms). "Now go and wash it and the rest of you, but *don't* come!"

All day I was erect and could scarcely walk without fear of rubbing my erection on the inside of my trackies. Even with a jockstrap on, I felt that it would only take an incautious movement to make me come. Having got this far through the week, I was eagerly (for which read: 'desperately') waiting to find out what would happen on Saturday. And I was hoping that the evening would bring more stimulation, though I feared my ability to resist coming if anyone touched me.

After dinner I was again tied, nude, on a towel to the carver chair in the bedroom, but this time there was no blindfold. Candles were lit all round the bedroom, and Sean set some incense burning. Noises on the stairs told me that more people were arriving. There were three of them: a lanky, rather spotty youth; our 55-year-old friend Jim; and a short solid mid-thirties man with cropped hair and a spiky goatee. I guessed (correctly, as I was later told) that these were the same three men who had fucked my mouth on Monday. The youth was introduced to me as 'Paul', and the other man as 'Steve'. Paul I could do without, but it was Steve I wanted to get to know *much* better ...

The three of them, and Sean, stripped off their clothes and got on the bed. The following two hours made me nearly rabid with lust, as they stroked and kissed, sucked and fucked, in all of the many combinations that four horny versatile men can devise. In the candle light it wasn't always easy to see who was doing what to whom, but the sights and smells of such horny men caused a puddle of precum under my balls.

I was a bit surprised that they had all managed to hold off from coming for so long, and even more surprised when they all just got up off the bed and went downstairs for some refreshment. Sitting there with my erection burping precum, I wondered what was next.

When they came back in, I soon found out. Paul stood in front of me, wanking his long thin cock slowly, while Jim from behind him stroked his nipples. I opened my mouth in expectation of being fed a good load of cum, but suddenly my head was enclosed in a leather hood with no eye or mouth holes, just a small gash at the nose for me to breathe through. The laces at the back of the hood were tied tightly, and I couldn't hear, see, or smell anything much. Paul began to slap my leather-covered face with his cock, and I could dimly hear him groaning. This went on for some time, then his groans became louder and suddenly, "Oh fuck!!" and I felt spunk splatter all over my hood, from where a lot dripped onto my chest and crotch.

In my dark world I moaned at the waste of all that precious fluid; I might not fancy Paul but I remembered the taste of his spunk spraying into my mouth, and my cock swelled dangerously. Another cock was pushed under my nose-hole and I sniffed deeply to get the full effect of his musk. This must be Jim - his cock smelled somewhat sour, just like his cum. He rested his cock on the bridge of my nose and began to wank himself and rub himself on the layer of spunk already on my mask. In only a few seconds he grunted deeply and began to pour spunk over my face. Glad as I was that I didn't have to swallow any more of his evil-tasting juice, the feeling of it flowing down my mask and onto my cock made me shiver with excitement.

There was a short pause and some muttering, and someone started to lick the cum off my mask. Then he continued down and licked my chest clean, having a little nibble at my nipples as he did so. As he continued down my belly my cock throbbed in the hopes that he would suck the spunk off that as well, though I knew that if anyone even touched my cock at the moment I would explode. Sean muttered in my ear, "This is Steve - remember how much you fancy him?"

I whimpered, remembering all too well the things I had dreamed of doing with that hunk. But all sensation stopped. I strained my ears to try to work out what was happening, but all I could hear was the faint sound of someone wanking a very wet cock. Was it Steve, or Sean, or both? I couldn't tell, but it wasn't long before a volley of cum shots hit my cock from what felt like two directions, so it was probably both of them. The sensation of so much cum sliding down my achingly erect tool was almost orgasmic. All I needed was one touch, one gentle stroke on my cock and I would have to redecorate the bedroom ceiling. I thrashed around on my chair, trying to get some friction on my cockhead, but I was bound too tightly.

Noises subsided, and I was apparently left alone, long enough that the remaining cum on my cock had cooled right down. Then Sean returned and removed the mask, showing me some rivulets of juice that Steve had missed. He told me to look at my crotch; it was liberally coated with streaks and puddles of cum, and now that my nose was free again I could smell the heady odour still rising from it. "Just think," he whispered, "how it would feel if I used all that lovely spunk as lube to wank you off."

"I warn you - I hate you!" I replied, "because you're not going to let me come, are you?"

"Of course not," he said innocently, "that would be a complete waste after all this build-up, wouldn't it?"

"You're a bastard! Just wait till I manage to get you in this position ..."

"Oh, I know. But you'll thank me for it on Saturday ..."

7: Thursday and Friday

Thursday was, like Tuesday, a 'rest' day - if you can call trying to dig while not rubbing a steel erection inside your jockstrap 'restful'. By the time I got home I was sweaty from digging and felt as if I was sweating spunk as well. Sean took one look at me and said, "You need a cool shower ... but remember, that's *all* you need!" I slept extremely badly, having such luridly sexual dreams that Sean had to wake me up twice to make sure that I didn't have a wet dream.

On Friday I was bursting to know what he had in store for me, but I was too afraid (of what his answer might be) to ask. Potting up plants in the greenhouse wasn't as energetic as digging, so I wasn't in danger of rubbing myself off in my jockstrap. However, it gave me more time to think, which was also hazardous. Several times I caught myself having such an erotic fantasy that I had to stamp on my own toe to take my mind off sex.

Sean was home before me again, and as I came in the door said, "Right, go out again, and strip - completely - in the hallway and throw your clothes in here."

"But ..." I began, thinking of all the neighbours who might be coming up the stairs and would see me starkers.

"Don't argue!" was his reply. So I dutifully stripped off in the hallway and threw my clothes inside the door. I must admit that the thought of being seen by the neighbours (especially by one older hairy daddy-type who lived on the floor above) turned me on so much that by the time I finished undressing I had a raging erection. Sean then shut the door, with me still outside the flat. Too proud to bang on the door and demand that he let me in, I just stood there undecided what to do. It was cold, and that, as much as any lack of physical or mental stimulation, made my cock wilt (though I noticed that I had dripped some precum on the landing).

It must have been ten minutes before the door opened again, and surprisingly nobody had come up the stairs. I'd been rehearsing what I might say to explain why I was standing naked on the landing, but hadn't come up with anything that sounded remotely plausible, so I was rather glad to be let back into the flat. Sean came up behind me and said, "Close your eyes and put your hands behind your back." My erection returned immediately, even harder than before, if that's possible.

I closed my eyes and clasped my hands behind my back. A leather hood with no eyeholes was slipped over my head and the drawstring tightened round my neck. I thought at first that it had no hole to breathe through, but after a few moments of panic while Sean adjusted the hood, I realised that there was a very small hole just underneath my nose. In anticipation of what might be about to happen, my cock reared up and started dribbling. Unable to see, my other senses were enhanced, and I realised that there was a faint flowery and spicy smell somewhere nearby. I could identify marigold, lavender, rosemary, and cloves, but there were several other components of the smell that weren't strong enough to recognise.

Sean led me into the bathroom, and the smell became stronger. He held my arms and said, "Step into the bath, it's OK, it's not too hot, but mind you don't slip." I climbed gingerly into the bath, which was half full of warm water and the bottom felt very slippery. For some reason (actually, the reason was obvious - he didn't want me to come) Sean didn't touch me very much while I was in the bath. He put a small rubber pillow behind my head, and just added more hot water and more bath oils as needed. Hot water does eventually have a relaxing effect, and although my mind still said I was incredibly horny, my erection gradually subsided.

After what seemed like hours, Sean helped me out of the bath and removed the hood. My skin was all wrinkly (so was my cock) and I felt totally exhausted. He put me to bed, gave me a chaste kiss, and I went out like a light for many hours.

8: Saturday

When I woke up, just the thought 'today's the day!' gave me such a spasm of lust that I thought I was going to lose it there and then, but I got myself back under control. Sean brought me breakfast in bed - scrambled eggs on toast with smoked salmon, one of my favourites - and sat companionably on the edge of the bed while we drank our coffee. I was itching to know when and how he was going to make me come, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of refusing to tell me. This 'game' also had the effect of keeping me intensely aroused (not that I needed much to do that!)

We sat around all morning reading the papers, though I found it very difficult to concentrate with my mind constantly in my crotch. A light lunch of soup and a chocolate biscuit followed, with my mind screaming 'when is the fucker going to make me come!!??' Then Sean strapped me into the big chair again, put some mindless musical film on the TV, and said, "Right, I'm going to the gym - back later," and left.

Watching the film occupied only a small part of my mind; the remainder was free to devise elaborate schemes of revenge for this torment. Yet I noticed that the week of alternate teasing and relaxation had left my whole body feeling like one huge cock. The slightest draught on any part of my exposed skin was enough to make me shudder with lust, and I knew that if someone (preferably Sean) were to nibble even my earlobe, I would come and come and come.

Sean came home, still dressed in his gym kit, and busied himself in the bedroom for a while. Strange clanking noises made me wonder what the hell he was up to. Was he building a cage, and if so, what for? Soon he was behind me again with the leather hood, which he laced up tightly behind me before releasing my bonds. He led me into the bedroom, turned me round, and pushed me gently backwards. The backs of my knees encountered a hard edge of leather, but he continued to push and I suddenly fell backwards into what I realised was a leather sling. The meaning of the clanking sounds I'd heard earlier became clear: he'd rented a portable sling with its own metal framework (the ceiling of the bedroom being neither high enough nor strong enough to support a sling).

He pulled me into a better position, with my arse exposed at the front of the sling, and attached my wrists to the rear chains with soft-lined leather cuffs. My ankles were pulled up in the air and strapped to the front chains similarly. I was helpless. And almost out of my mind with sheer horniness. I could hear him undressing and he came round to my head and said quietly, "Right, it starts now." I made some voiceless noise between a choke and a whimper, and almost believed that I could feel the individual molecules of air stroking my exposed dripping dick.

"I've just been to the gym ..."

'Yes, I know that, you fucker, why are you telling me what I already know?' Thought but not voiced.

"And I didn't shower at the gym ..."

Light began to dawn. Memories of Sean's armpit and crotch smell after a good workout. The next best thing to actually having sex.

"And I'm going to wrap your cock in my sweaty jockstrap ..."

"Oh god!!" I shouted, "You're going to make me come," but the words were very muffled by the hood. I imagine he got the gist of what I was trying to say.

"And then I'm going to make you breathe through my armpit hairs - can you imagine them, all black with fresh sweat ..."

"Oh Sean, don't, please ... You're going to make me come ... I don't want to come like this ... I want to come when you're fucking me!" Again, I'm sure he got the essence of what I was shouting.

"Yes, of course you're going to come while I'm fucking you, but what do you think I'm going to use for lube?" He put his armpit right next to my nose holes in the mask.

The answer dawned on me just as I started to produce it: my spunk of course! I thought that when I did come I would spray all over the place, but without my cock being touched the spunk was so very liquid that it just ran down the sides of my cock and pooled on his jockstrap. Sean took off my hood and showed me the resulting fragrant mess. "I knew you would come too quickly the first time, so this just takes the pressure off a bit. Gives me a chance to let my cock do its work inside you."

I was aware that my cock, even though it had just come, was as hard as it had ever been. Sean took a handkerchief, wiped under both his arms with it, and spread it across my face just under my nose. I remember groaning. Then he spread the spunk - *my* spunk - over the head of his throbbing cock, and moved between my legs. "Hey, what about some lube inside me?" I asked.

"Oh no, I want you to feel every inch of me going in, just with your spunk as lube. You'll soon get used to it." And with that he began to push his rigid cock against my tight hole. I was so tight that he pushed me in the sling several inches backwards before my arse started to open for him. And once open, gravity and all the fantastic sexy lube took over, and his wonderful tool slid straight into me without a pause. "Shit!!" I yelled, "It's too big, take it out!"