A Bit of Slap and Tickle
by David Heulfryn


I got here on time so why couldn’t the fucking estate agent. I had to dash out of work exactly on time, which is a miracle in itself, and I drove the speed limits, traffic allowing until I fought for a parking space on the streets. Since the council had put up stupid parking meters everywhere, I thought I’d better get myself a ticket. It was half-past five and cut off for paying for parking was six, and I didn’t want some overzealous cunt of a traffic warden slapping my windscreen with a ticket.

With the little white ticket that cost me a quid resting on my dashboard, I went to the door of the block of flats; it was secured entry, so I had to wait for the estate agent. I checked my watch, and it was precisely half five. I leant against the doorway, loosened my tie and undid my top button. I must have looked like some overgrown school kid waiting outside until his mummy came home to let him in, especially with my black trousers and white shirt. Twenty-five and I still dressed like a school kid!

I was getting bored and quite tetchy now. I’d been waiting for fifteen minutes and had some strange looks from people going in and coming out of the building. If I had been wearing my trackie bottoms and the hoodie I used to go jogging, they would have certainly called the police. But there was one look I didn’t mind getting. A cute young man walked down the street and turned to go into the building, his eyes scanned my face and then darted down to the front of my trousers, even though they were black, you could still see the bulge of what they hid. His eyes then noticed my nipples showing through the white of my shirt, they were hard and rubbed against the loose weave of the cotton. I sensed he wanted to ask me what I was doing there, but he just skulked inside and made sure the door was shut securely behind him.

Flicking open my mobile, it was ten to six. This was ridiculous! So I rang the Estate Agent, and I couldn’t believe it when the bastard I was supposed to be meeting answered the phone. The idiot was lying when he told me the appointment was for six. But he said he would get there as soon as possible.

I was well and truly pissed off when he turned up at quarter past six with some lame excuse about the traffic.

The lad who turned up must have been about my age and was as cocky as hell. He thought he could blag his way out of any situation and tried his best to get me back on side, but I was having none of it, all he got from me were short and sharp replies. He said his name was Raz which must have been short for some Indian name, he didn’t look like your usual Indian, I suspected he was mixed-race as he had the greyest eyes I had ever seen, their sheer colour meant that I stared at them whenever I looked into his face. But even his captivating grey eyes couldn’t melt my mood for being messed about.

“As you can see, it is your standard secure entry‚Ķ” Raz started his spiel as we entered the building and made our way to the flat. “It’s not exactly the penthouse, but just the floor below.”

He led me to the stairs and started to climb.

“What’s wrong with the lift?”

“Out of order.” He replied and kept telling me about the joys of living in the building and its close proximity to the city centre.

The way he immediately headed for the stairs told me that he knew the lift was not working without even checking, and I asked him when the last person was shown around. It turned out to be last week. So the lift had been out of order for at least a week. I thought it was not a good start, but at least I would stay fit climbing up and down nine flights of stairs.

Raz was panting by the time we had reached the fifth floor, which had the added benefit of shutting him up. By the time we reached the ninth floor he was almost doubled up with a stitch, I, what with the daily jogging and twice-weekly visits to the gym just sauntered up behind him and smiled as he fumbled in his pockets for the keys.

“You should work out more.” I threw at him, and he merely gasped an unintelligible reply.

He had finally got the door open and ushered me in telling me to take a look around. I went through to the living room, and Raz just stayed by the door, getting his breath back.

The flat was beautifully decorated and furnished, but then the building was only five years old. Judging by the furniture a single bloke lived here, and I suspected he was gay, there was nothing queer on show, but I just got the feeling, and besides it was similar to my taste.

I was in the bedroom when Raz came up behind me and began his spiel again. “It’s great at weekends, the clubs are just a few minutes walk away, the shops are close by, and if you work in the city, then it’s just perfect.”

“What’s the closest club?” I asked as I opened the wardrobe and saw that it was empty.

“Oh, it’s Q2.” He said sheepishly.

“I’ve heard of it. Is it any good?”

“It’s alright.” But quickly added. “So I’ve been told.”

“No-one lives here then?” I changed the subject.

Raz explained that the owner was having some financial problems and needed to sell quickly to avoid repossession. We then spent a few minutes complaining about the current recession and its effect on everybody. Estate Agents were doing especially badly as no-one was buying or selling their homes. I suspected Raz was getting desperate for a sell to keep his cocky young high flyer image going.

Going over to the plate glass window, Raz commented on the view. “You can see almost all the city from here, and no-one can see you. The castle.” He pointed as if I needed to be shown what the castle of my home town looked like. “There’s all the churches, some of which are now bars and clubs, and the shopping centres. It’s good ’cause you can see what the traffic is like in the morning before you go to work.”

“Excellent.” I made Raz jump as I crept behind him and spoke into his ear. “Sorry, did I startle you?” I asked as I put my hands on his hips as if to steady him.

Raz froze as I started to rub my hands across his chest, my fingers catching on his buttons occasionally or sneaking a feel inside between the buttons.

“These buttons are getting in the way,” I said, but Raz just stood motionless as I slowly undid each button and removed his tie. My hand now felt his skin, and my fingers luxuriated in the coarse hairs that seemed to cover him from neck to waist. I pulled his shirttails from his belted trousers and let it fall to the floor. His hairy chest crept over his shoulders but quickly tapered to show me his smooth brown back.

I kneaded his soft pecs and tweaked his nipples. His body was not taut and toned, but loose, not fat or flabby, just loose like he needed a few hours in the gym each week to tone himself.

I draped myself over his back and kissed his neck while my hands left his bare skin and the bulge in his flat-fronted trousers. I pulled down the zip of his fly, and my hand felt his hardness beneath through his loose boxers. I was disappointed as I have always found boxers a turn-off, too much fabric and no support, and I have always enjoyed seeing a great set of dick and balls supported by briefs or hipsters.

Unclasping his belt, I unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to the floor. I gripped his hard cock as it obscenely tented his loud patterned boxer shorts and slowly wanked him as his dick leaked and moistened the fabric. Behind him, Raz could now feel my hard bulge through my trousers straining at his arse.

I slipped his boxers down and freed his dick, his body was now on full view to all inhabitants of the city. Raz felt exposed and modest, uncertain as to whether anyone could actually see him and tried to cover his hardon. My hand brushed them aside and felt the heat of his dick as it ached to be touched.

Turning him around, so that he mooned the city, I noticed he had already kicked off his shoes, trousers and boxers. I looked into his steel-grey eyes and gently rubbed the back of my hand over his cheek. He leant forward, and I sensed he wanted to kiss me, but I grabbed him by the shoulders, manoeuvred him to the bed and pushed him down onto his back.

He stared up at me as I teasingly stripped; my shirt, shoes and trousers. I stood in front of him with my tight white briefs on. These were special as they cupped my balls and lifted the whole package up and outwards, even the smallest of packages were made to look big in these special briefs. I, with my dick engorged, must have looked huge as it strained at the fabric.

Raz’s mouth fell open as I stood astride him and he looked me straight in the crotch. Raising himself up, his nose connected with my bulge and Raz started to nuzzle and lick me through my briefs.

My dick was now as hard as he was going to get it while still confined. The pain of its constraint was beginning to show on my face. Like a tease, Raz peeled my briefs down, and it sprang to horizontal. My helmet was red and poking through my partially retracted foreskin, drops of fluid leaked and smeared over my knob to make it glisten.

Raz now eyed up my piss slit and licked his lips. With the sharp tip of his tongue, he licked the underside of my knob. A pearl of pre-cum grew before my eyes. Raz caught the pearl on his tongue, where it gradually dissolved.

Enough teasing, Raz opened his mouth and sucked in my dick, he struggled to cope with the thickness as I heard him gasp a few times and he committed the cardinal sin of sucking, I felt his teeth. But he soon learnt to stretch his mouth wider, and I never felt his teeth again.

His mouth sucked me off, and his hands fondled my balls. I started to hump his throat, my arse cheeks flexing and tightening as my dick went further down his throat. His hands left my balls and felt my arse cheeks as they thrust, he tried to get his fingers to my hole, but my cheeks would tease him and not let him in. This boy was not going to touch my hole, and at that moment, Raz knew exactly what awaited him.

His eyes went from looking startled to concentrating real hard. He had never felt anything as thick as me in his arse before, and he knew I would not let him fuck me, so he wondered exactly how he was going to fit me inside him.

I pushed him off my dick and back on the bed, looking down at him, I said. “Nice sales patter, now to clinch the deal.”

Kneeling between his legs, I didn’t touch his hard cock, and his missing foreskin. It pointed to his chin amongst a thick set of unruly black pubes. On another day, I would have loved to have lost myself down there, amongst his dick and pubes. But I grabbed his hips and flipped him over onto his belly; his arse stuck out and was lightly covered with dark hair. Splitting his cheeks, the hair thickened and I couldn’t see his hole through the forest. But I knew it would be down there, somewhere, so I spat and rubbed until his hair matted and parted and his juicy red hole emerged. My dick throbbed when I saw it and after spitting again; my knob touched the red target.

Raz buried his head in the quilt he lay upon, groaned and braced himself. I felt his body tense, and he held his breath. I pushed forward to tease his hole. I knew it would go in, so I waited until he was forced to exhale, as he did, his body relaxed, and I pushed hard against him. He struggled, but I finally felt my knob enter.

I heard him scream into the quilt, and I felt his hole grip hard against me, trying to push me out. It was to be a fight between my will and his subconscious body. He inhaled again, ready to let out another scream and I pushed in further, the deeper I went, the thicker my dick became and the harder he screamed into the quilt. Eventually, it became so thick that his hole just gave up, and I felt it give way to let my dick easily slip in. My balls were being tickled by his luscious hair growth and I wanted to start pounding so it would stop, but I knew I had to wait and let his arse make friends with my dick.

When I saw his head lift from the quilt, I knew it was time, and I pulled back and rammed back into him. There was no screaming this time, just groans and grunts. I fucked his hairy arse good and hard, his arms were above his head, clutching the quilt each time I thrust inside him, his head thrashed in that paradoxical pain which yielded such pleasure. His body rippled but lay untouched; the only part of me touching him was my dick.

Despite him holding on tight, each thrust moved us closer to the headboard until his head was crushed between his body and the pillows which cushioned each thrust and muffled each groan.

My balls slapped against arse and each time were tickled until I pulled back again. I laughed out loud when I wondered if this was where the phrase ‘a bit of slap and tickle’ came from.

The tickle stopped, and I knew I was getting closer, my balls had contracted into me, and no longer swung free to find their tickle, but I had a few good stokes left in me, and I pounded his arse until it felt like my knob was about to explode.

One last push and I stopped, for an instant, there was no movement by either of us. Then my dick started to pulse, and I groaned as I pumped his arse full of my spunk. As my dick calmed down and my cum spewed less freely, I pulled back slowly and then eased myself gently back in. I milked my cock like this a few times until it was spent and began to soften and shrink.

I pulled out entirely and watched his hole slowly close up, my white cum oozing around the clefts of his sphincter.

As I got off the bed and pulled on my briefs, Raz turned over and looked at me.

“Where’re you going? What about me?” Raz was confused.

“What about you? You never come when you’re supposed to.” I quipped and finished dressing.

I left him, naked on the bed, his unsatisfied dick, shrivelled and hiding in his mass of pubes.

I never did buy that flat.


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