Odd Job Ollie
by David Heulfryn

 

Chapter 4: A Drink In the Pub

I had been fucked. A man had fucked me. I’d fucked a couple of girlfriends, but neither of them ever played with my arse, other than squeezing my buttocks. But being fucked, that was something else. Feeling a man slide his cock inside me felt incredible. And neither of my girlfriends had given me a better blow job than Callum had given me. The two best sexual experiences I’d had were both with men, or rather, a man and a boy.

I tried to put it out of my mind. Taking on some small jobs that came in helped, but it always came back to me in the evenings. I was so preoccupied with it that even Louis asked if everything was alright with me.

Whenever I showered, I would now probe my hole as I wanked. It was challenging to wank in my bedroom with Louis always being around. I could only manage to get two fingers inside me, but it always made the orgasm more intense.

I had to talk to someone about this. I couldn’t speak to anyone in the family, so I invited Conor out for a drink.

Conor was already in ‘The Cock and Balls’ pub when I arrived; he was chatting to a stranger at the bar and laughing. He had already half drunk his pint.

“Hi Conor! I walked over to him and slapped him on the back, “Starting without me, I see.” I smiled.

“Great to see you, Ollie. This is Ewan. He saw the name of the pub and had to come in for a drink. He’s paying for his drinks as he’s unwilling to strip off and keep with traditions.”

“Not everyone does it.” Ewan nervously supped his pint.

“True, but I just wanted to see your cock.” Conor laughed.

“Don’t mind him,” I smiled at Ewan, “he’s obsessed with cock. I’d never known a straight guy so obsessed with everyone else’s cock before.”

“Well, you started it.” Conor looked at me, “If I hadn’t seen your anaconda, I wouldn’t be sizing up every other guy.”

Ewan looked at my crotch; my cock was well hidden, and he couldn’t see how long it was.

I ordered a round of drinks, and we moved to a table. I hadn’t counted on Conor meeting a new friend, and I was uncomfortable talking about what happened to me in front of Ewan. We chatted for over an hour, and we downed several more pints.

The alcohol went straight to my head. I hadn’t eaten that evening, nervous about speaking to Conor about my sudden liking for cock. It started to feel like we’d been friends with Ewan for years, and with the booze loosening my tongue.

“Have you ever had anal sex?” I blurted out, and Conor spat out the sip he had just taken. I noticed Ewan’s lips curled up at the sides.

“What the fuck, Ollie?” Conor choked. “What a fucking question to ask.”

“Well, you are always obsessed with cock, I wondered if you’d gone all the way.”

“You know fucking well I’m straight. Why would I let another man fuck me?” He grinned at me, “You’re not wanting to, are you?”

“Fuck off. I’m just making conversation.” I protested.

“I’ve never even touched another man’s cock.” Conor sounded defensive.

“Why are you always interested in mine?” I asked him.

“I suppose it’s like those old Victorian freak shows, the bearded lady, the tattooed man. They are so freaky, you have to look. Just like your cock.”

“I’m not a freakshow, Conor. There’s more to me than my cock.” I felt hurt by his analogy.

“Not much more!” Conor laughed, “Your cock is over half your body weight.” He hadn’t realised I felt offended.

“Fuck off, Conor!” I snapped at him.

Ewan placed his arm on my wrist. “I’m not so single-minded with my sexuality. I’m very fluid. I’ve connected with all kinds, and not just men and women.”

I felt Ewan understood what was behind my question. “How do you know what you want?”

“It depends.” Ewan thought a moment, “Depends on my mood, how horny I am and also who I’m attracted to.” I felt his fingers stroke my wrist. It felt comforting. “Have you ever had anal sex?”

I blushed. “I always thought I was straight, but there was this one job I did the other day, the man had me.” I paused. I decided not to give him the whole scenario, “Well, he seduced me and we had sex.”

“Fuck off!” Conor gasped. “How did he manage to take that fucking monster between your legs?”

“Were you on the receiving end?” Ewan said softly, and I nodded. “Did you enjoy it?” I nodded again, “And you’re wondering why a straight guy could enjoy it?” I nodded.

Conor’s eyes were wide when I admitted to being fucked up the arse. At least it shut him up for a while.

“Look, Ollie.” Ewan kept stroking my wrist, “We’re not just straight or gay, our sexuality is explored through our experiences. Take Conor for instance,” we looked at him, he looked uncomfortable under Ewan’s scrutiny. “He is convinced he’s one hundred per cent straight. But that may not be true. If he were open to experimenting, he might find he likes to suck cock or take it up his arse.”

“That’s me.” I looked at Ewan.

“And you’ve found that something other than straight sex can feel good.”

I nodded, “I’d never felt anything like it before. It felt way better than fucking a girl.”

Conor got up from the table and took his empty glass with him.

“I think we’re making him feel uncomfortable.” Ewan smiled.

“For once, he doesn’t want to talk about cock.” I moved my arm and placed my hand on his.

“If you’re interested in exploring this side of yourself, let me know. I’d be very interested. Let me give you my number.” Ewan took one of my business cards and wrote his mobile number on the blank reverse. He kept a business card for himself. “I need to know how to contact you, as well. I might also have some jobs that need doing.”

Ewan made it clear that anything that happened would be up to me. He wasn’t going to coerce me into doing anything. He took my hand from his and now placed his hand on my thigh. He rubbed it up and down.

“I just wanted to know if the rumours were true.”

I laughed, “I dress to the left.”

“Pity.” Ewan grinned.

Conor came back carrying three more pints.

“I’ll have to make this my last one,” I told Conor.

“You two finished talking about butt fucking?” Conor grimaced.

“All done.” Ewan grabbed his fresh pint and sipped it.

“Yes, no more talk about sex,” I told him. “It didn’t take us long to talk about your sex life. Less than ten seconds, in fact.”

“Hilarious, Ollie. But it is time I found a girl to drain my balls.”

“He’s such a sweet talker,” I said to Ewan. “A real catch.”

 

I wasn’t drunk, but I did stumble through the front door when I got home. The place was dark, and everyone had gone to bed. I crept up the stairs, making more noise than usual and burst into my bedroom. There was frantic movement from Louis’ bed as he pulled his duvet over his exposed body. I didn’t see anything, but it was apparent I had disturbed him wanking.

“Don’t let me stop you. We all do it.” I slurred and took off my clothes.

Louis lay frozen as he watched me strip in the dimly lit room. He did not attempt to continue his wank.

Naked, I went to the bathroom and let out a long stream of piss, relieving myself of the many pints I’d drunk that evening.

“Did you finish?” I slurred as I went back to our bedroom.

“No. You are one fucking mood killer. It sounded like a pissing racehorse in there. Mind you, you are hung like a horse.”

I gave my soft cock a few strokes, but it refused to thicken. I’d drunk too much. I ignored Louis’s comment and got into bed. I sighed. I would have loved to have a wank, the discussion with Ewan stirred me. But my cock wouldn’t respond. Within seconds, I was asleep.

 

I was woken by a pillow being held against my face. I squirmed and pushed the pillow off. I saw Louis standing by my bed, wearing nothing but the white briefs he sometimes slept in.

“Will you shut up!” He sounded angry. “I’ve had little to no sleep with you snoring like a pig. If you ever get drunk again, sleep on the sofa!”

I groaned as Louis got back into bed. He huffed and turned his back on me.

I clutched my head. It was pounding. I got up and went downstairs to take some painkillers and a long glass of water. It was still early, and no one else was up. I was glad, as Dad didn’t like me to walk around naked.

I slipped back into bed as quietly as I could and snuggled under the duvet.

 

I woke just after eleven in the morning. My cock was rigid, eager for release, and my bladder pressed hard and was almost painful. I needed to wank, but the need to pee was greater. I rushed to the bathroom, squeezing the head of my cock to cause it to deflate a little. Enough for me to piss and successfully direct the stream into the bowl.

The house was quiet. Louis wasn’t in his bed, and I dressed in some grey sweatpants and a T-shirt. It was Saturday and I wasn’t working. I would if I had any jobs. But I had no work until Monday, and that was only a small job that was likely to last only a few hours.

Downstairs was empty. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and checked my emails. I’d received several emails requesting quotes. My phone pinged. I’d received a new text message. It was from Ewan. My hand reached into my sweatpants, and I squeezed my cock.

«I’m free if you want to talk some more»

His simple text took me back to the time I’d been fucked. My cock grew hard, and I pulled it out of my sweatpants.

I put down my phone and reached behind me to poke my hole while I stroked my cock. It felt fantastic as I slowly stroked my cock while finger fucking myself. I closed my eyes and became immersed in the sensations. My sweatpants fell to my ankles as I thrust my hips, pushing my cock through my fist as I forced my fingers into my hole. I couldn’t emulate the same feeling that Mr Kiely caused as he fucked me, but my fingers were better than nothing. I begin to wish I had a cock fucking me. I groaned at the memory of Mr Kiely’s cock being forced inside me, pressing against my prostate. My fingers couldn’t go deep enough and couldn’t find my prostate, but the sensation of my fingers stretching my ring was enough for now. But I needed to learn how to stimulate my prostate better.

My cock was continually leaking precum, my hand smeared it over my shaft, and some dripped onto the floor. I didn’t care. My entire being was centred on my cock and stretched hole. I was grunting as I tried to force more of my fingers inside me. My other hand was now slowing down as I concentrated on fucking myself with my fingers. With each thrust, drops of precum landed on the tiled kitchen floor. Fuck! I’d just hit my prostate. I felt my cock throb, and it felt like I was pissing precum; it was coming out in a steady stream.

Fuck! I hit it again. My balls ached as I kept my fingers deep inside me and pressed against that pleasure button in my arse.

Fuck! I was going to cum. I pushed more of my fingers inside me. I thrust hard, stretching my hole even further, but the pain didn’t stop me; it enhanced the pleasure, and my hand was back furiously wanking my cock.

I grunted loudly and felt my cock throb against my palm. Cum flew out and arced over the kitchen floor. I kept coming, and I kept fucking myself with my fingers. My other hand squeezed my cock as my orgasm subsided.

I gasped as I leaned against the kitchen cupboards and pulled my fingers from my hole. I released my cock and gripped the edge of the work surface to steady myself. I was panting, my eyes still closed, recovering from an intense orgasm.

As my breathing returned to normal, I opened my eyes. I turned my head and looked out of the kitchen window. I saw a sweet little face grinning at me.

“Louis!” I scrambled to pull up my sweatpants as he burst through the back door. “What the fuck, Louis!”

He laughed, “Don’t blame me. You were the one wanking in plain sight. It could have been worse. It could have been Dad who caught you.”

“Shit!”

“I hope you’re going to clear up after yourself.” Louis giggled when he looked at the congealed globs of cum on the floor. He then looked at my crotch, “and perhaps change your sweats.”

I looked down, my half-hard cock was evident through the grey fabric, so was the large wet patch where my cummy cock head was.

I grabbed some kitchen towel and knelt on the floor, wiping up my cum. “Not a word to Mum and Dad or I’ll kill you.” I glared at Louis, “Mum would freak if she knew I’d cum in her kitchen.”

“Well, perhaps you’ll be a little more considerate when I need a little relief. I could easily have burst in on you wanking, giving you blue balls. Instead, I let you finish. That’s because I’m a good brother.”

“A good brother.” I laughed. “A good brother would have walked away and not watched like a voyeur.”

Louis just giggled and went up to our bedroom.

 

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