7th February 2003: I don’t know why I never got round to finishing this story as I had I all planned out what I wanted to do. The main character, Nathan, was lovely to write for and the scene where Sebastian rims him stands out as a highlight, but for some reason my attention sadly wandered from it.

Man About The House

The wood-lined avenue on the far outskirts of the city seemed almost deserted as I pulled in and parked. I’d already got out of the car and was reaching back in to retrieve the black jacket which formed the upper half of my suit, when I heard a voice behind me.

“Are you the man about the house?”

I looked around to see him. He was standing on the steps leading up to the unkempt front garden.

I nodded, pulling my jacket on against the crisp October evening. “Yeah, well… sort of. There’s two of us.”

He looked down at the clipboard he was carrying.

I glanced along the street at some of the parked cars, trying to spot a white Polo. “It doesn’t look like Melissa has arrived yet…”

He seemed confused. “Melissa?”

“My girlfriend.”

“Oh right”. He made a face at himself like he was being stupid and then flashed me a smile. It had a frankness and warmth that I found, even in those first few moments of knowing him, surprisingly attractive.

He glanced down at his notes again and asked, “That wouldn’t be Melissa Clarke would it?”

I said, “Yeah…”

He smiled again. It really was captivating. He was a handsome guy, probably in his mid-twenties like me. Tall and slim with short dark brown hair: just the right body to carry a smile like that.

He explained, “I had her down as a later appointment for some reason… I didn’t realise you were coming together…”

“Well, that was the plan. We were supposed to meet you here at six.”

“Not to worry,” he said. “Someone in the office must have screwed up…”

I locked the car and he suggested that we go in and take a quick look around while we waited for Melissa.

Then, as he opened the gate for me, he said, “You must be Dr Wallace, right?”

I nodded and he grinned. “I was expecting an older guy. Grey hair and a beard…”

I smiled. I found myself hoping that he found my smile as pleasant as I found his.

“We’re getting younger and younger,” I joked. “Straight from highschool into the surgery – or so my mother reckons.”

He beamed at me again. “Actually, since you’re a doctor you might want to take a look at my back… I’ve been having a few problems.”

I guess he saw my face crease with irritation because he laughed. Like his smile, it seemed spontaneous and unaffected.

He went on, “Sorry – that was just a joke… I couldn’t resist it. I bet you get people saying stuff like that all the time.”

I tried to dispel the annoyance I’d felt from hearing the line I must have heard a hundred times since starting my medical training. I forced a smile.

He unlocked the front door of the house and went on, “I get it myself, to some extent. I tell people I’m an estate agent and they want their house valued. Doesn’t matter if I’ve never seen it, they think a monotonous elaborate description will do…”

I said, “It’s when people start telling me full details of their bladder infections or varicose veins that I really warm to them. Elderly aunts have a particular talent for it…”

He laughed again. We didn’t speak for a few seconds as he cleared the unopened post away from inside the doorway and I followed him in.

He said, “I’m Nathan, by the way. Nathan Blackmore.”

“And I’m Sebastian.”

He said, with a smirk, “I kind of prefer ‘Dr Wallace’.” His tone was surprisingly mischievous.

I grinned back and said, my voice equally suggestive, “I bet you do…”

He giggled and I thought, “I like this guy…”

He walked halfway down the hallway to the foot of the stairs. A couple of doors led off from his right and left. He said, “So where do you want to get started… upstairs or down…?”

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling slightly and I grinned at him. I said, “I’m in your hands, Nathan…” and raised my eyebrows salaciously.

He nodded, still smiling at me. I was starting to wish Melissa wasn’t coming. I couldn’t work out if he would be up for anything more than flirting, but it seemed very possible.

He said, “In that case, how about looking at the kitchen?”

“Sounds good to me.”

He turned and walked to the end of the hallway where it led into a room to the right. He was, like me, wearing a dark suit, but his had quite a tight cut and showed his arse off very nicely. It looked round and firm inside his charcoal grey trousers and the flap at the back of his jacket was raised up over the bulge it made.

My interest in him increased. While girls are probably more my thing, an attractive guy can also have an appeal. In fact, as a one-off, a guy is probably preferable: men seem far more comfortable with the idea of pleasure without strings.

I followed him down the hall and into the kitchen at the end of it.

The room was light and airy, but the units and the sink would need replacing fairly urgently. But, then, we’d expected that it would need a lot of work doing to it when we’d arranged to view the place: it was why the house was so cheap despite it’s generous size and quiet location.

He said, “It’s a good size for a kitchen, but would obviously need some attention…”

I looked around and muttered, “I can give plenty of attention where it’s needed.”

I casually glanced at his face as I took in the room. He was staring at me, that same half-smile on his face.

He said, “What about your girlfriend?”

I turned to face him. We were almost exactly the same height. “What about her?”

He threw me another of his killer grins. His eyes were alive with amusement and excitement. I loved seeing him like this: getting turned on by my insinuations.

He asked, “Would she approve?”

“… Of?”

“Well… of having you tied up giving attention where it’s needed… doesn’t she want you for herself?”

I had to chuckle. “I dunno. I don’t think she suspects…”


“… how good I am at handling tools.”

He laughed and I did.

I said, “I mean there were a couple of occasions when I think it was kind of obvious, but she’s never acknowledged it and neither have I…”

He nodded slowly, maintaining his smile and staring intently at my face as if trying to discern my meaning from it. I remained impassive. Pleasant but ambiguous.

After a few seconds he asked, “Do you want to take a look at the garden and the shed?”

“Sounds pretty cool.”

He struggled to find the key to the back door and I realised, from the slight shaking of his hand, that he was as attracted to me as I was to him.

When he’d opened the door and we’d walked outside he asked, “You’re pretty versatile, then?”

“Oh… absolutely. A jack of all trades.”

We walked down the weedy narrow garden to the wooden shed at the bottom of it. It was starting to get dark and the cold air smelt of distant bonfires.

As he opened the shed door, he asked, “Which trade do you prefer?”

“Each has its own advantages and disadvantages… it’s difficult to say.”

He stared at me again, his eyes steadfast on mine, and then we went inside the shed. The air inside was heavy with the smell of creosote and dry soil. The evening light coming through the dirty cracked window was pretty dim but not so dim that we couldn’t see each other.

He muttered, “I think there’s a lamp plugged in down here…”

I started to tell him it was okay, but he was already bending over to find the switch underneath the worktop. As he groped around for it, his jacket rode up revealing his arse pressing tightly against the material of his trousers.

Even in the dim light I could see the outline of the hems of his underwear, a small tight pair of briefs by the look of them, making ridges against the twinned peaches of his buttocks. The hems made a chevron-shape pointing downwards on his arse. Like an arrow directing ones thoughts down to the warm, moist hole that was less than an inch beneath the dark grey cotton of the seat of his trousers.

He found the switch and bent further forwards to press it. His arse cheeks opened slightly and strained even more against the thin material. I wanted to bury my face into it; to smell the musky odour of his arse, to inhale the sweaty, anal smells of the seat of his trousers, his cotton of his briefs and the warmth of his arse cleft.

My cock rose stiffened rapidly in response to my musings. I guess it must have been pointing downwards inside my own underwear because it struggled painfully to rise upwards against their confines.

The light above us clicked on and, still bending, he turned his face towards me. “Success!”

I looked at his face and saw from his smile that he’d seen me staring at his backside.

Then he stood up and turned to face me.

He asked, glancing around at the shed to obscure his meaning, “Do you like what you see?”

I nodded. “Without a doubt.”

He said, “It’s different to what you’re used to…?”

“But the effect is the same.”

I opened my jacket and he looked down at my crotch. My restricted cock made an obvious mound between my fly and my right pocket. Even though it was mostly hard, it was being forced downwards by my the material of my briefs and so it’s shape was that of a thick, prominent, downwardly-curving rod. Kind of like a banana in the front of my trousers.

I asked him, “Do you like what you see, Nathan?”

He giggled again. “Yeah! I mean, it looks a bit cramped…”

Even though he was looking at my crotch I guess he could still have been talking about the shed. Both it and my briefs seemed a bit confined right then.

“Maybe you could sort something out for me…?”

He looked into my eyes again. His were a deep, dark blue. His face became serious and he searched my face for some kind of clue. Was I asking him to look into having the seller lower the price because of the size of the shed? I could see him wondering, could almost feel the uncertainty clouding his mind.

He muttered, “I dunno…”

I realised he was thinking that, if he reached out for my dick and it turned out that he’d misinterpreted what had been innocent remarks, he’d be in danger of being beaten up and maybe even losing his job. I had all the best cards in my hand: it wasn’t fair of me to expect him to make the first move.

So I reached down and rubbed my bulge through the black material of my trousers. I ran my palm across it, gently coaxing and caressing it.

I whispered, “I’d really appreciate it…”

He was staring at what I was doing to the outline of my cock, captivated by it. I moved my hand to one side and pushed my groin towards him, inviting him to take over.

He reached over towards me and then stopped with his fingers just a couple of centimetres away from my trousers. I looked up at his face and found that he was staring into my eyes, quizzically; even now doubting my motives.

I nodded my encouragement.

He completed the journey and his fingers found there way onto my cock. He kneaded it between them, playing his fingers over the thickened rod as if it were dough. His touch was bold and confident, his pressure firm, as he rubbed and squeezed its curved length.

I laughed, “You’re gonna have to take it out… it’s getting painful being cooped up in there…”

He smiled and reached for my zip.

He said, gently, “I’m guessing that this isn’t the first time, Dr Wallace…?”

“Not exactly…”

“But you are generally straight?”

I smiled as he pulled down my zip. My cock was straining so hard against the material that he had a lot of difficulty getting the zip down.

I said, “I don’t go in for labels. I’m generally me.”

When he’d managed to get the zip all the way down and pulled my cock out, he held it gently inside the grey cotton of my briefs. It felt good to be released and it rapidly reached full size in his hand.

“But you generally go for girls, right?”

“If I did, would it turn you on?”

He stared into my eyes again. Then gave me some more of that smile. It never lost its impact.

“Yeah. I guess it would, actually.”

He rubbed my cock through the material of my briefs, making long strokes to take in the entirety of its length.

I said, “Well, I kind of go through phases. Right now I’m happy with Melissa. But sometimes it’s nice to have a change…”

He grinned and pulled the front of my briefs down, exposing my naked cock to the creosote-scented air of the shed. The red head of it looked shiny and wet, the light-bulb above us reflected in the moisture covering it.

He asked, “It’s a big change. I mean, going from a girl to a guy…”

“I’m a man of rich and varied tastes.”

He knelt down in front of me, as if in awe of my eight inch cock.

He said, “Do you go in for being sucked?”

I laughed. “And the rest!”

He laughed too and looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his showing warmth and affection.

Then he put his lips around the end of my cock, tasting the wetness of the slick red head and licking it gently with his tongue.

I grabbed the back of head and pulled him further onto it, forcing five or six inches of its length into his mouth. He made a few gagging motions but these rapidly subsided as his throat became used to the intrusion.

I said, “Suck it, Nathan,” and he willingly complied, gently groaning in pleasure as he noisily worked his mouth along the length of my stem.

I kept holding his head, allowing him to withdraw so that only the head of my cock was inside him, but then pulling him towards me with each inward stroke, trying to force more of my cock into him each time he lunged forwards. He would occasionally gag and try to pull back, but I think he managed to get about seven inches into his mouth: a far better achievement than any girls who’ve obliged me.

His mouth felt fantastic: soft, warm and extremely wet, the taste of my precum seemed to make him salivate copiously. He was literally drooling on it, his dribbling lips open wide to accommodate the broad stem.

He reached up with his left hand and grabbed my arse through the material of my trousers. He gripped my right arse cheek and started squeezing it, working his fingers into the seat of my trousers, finding his way into my crack. If only girls would take the initiative so readily!

I looked down and noticed that his right hand was on the large bulge at the front of his grey trousers. He’d hitched his jacket up a bit to afford himself access, and was rubbing gently at the mound his cock was making just to the left of his fly.

He was getting turned on by sucking me off: the sight of that made my cock swell even further and stiffen to full-size in his mouth.

He pulled back from me, resisting my attempts to force him back onto my cock and removed his hand from my arse. He held my cock with it, still gently massaging his own bulge, just kneeling there, staring at it in his hand.

He looked up at me and grinned. His lips were wet with his spit and my precum. I felt so aroused to have just had my cock penetrating such a beautiful mouth.

He said, “You’ve got an amazing cock, Dr Wallace!”

I smiled back at him. “I think it would express the same sentiments about your mouth…”

His eyes turned to look back at my cock, throbbing in front of his face. A dribble of precum leaked from the puckered slit on the fat red head and he leaned forwards to hungrily lap it up.

Then, with both hands, he pulled the front of my trousers further down and released my balls from the confines of my briefs. They dangled over the top of my open zip, loose and heavy within my fuzzily-haired scrotum.

He grabbed my cock again, directed it upwards against the front of my shirt, and, to my surprise, lunged forwards to bury his face in the warm, wrinkled ball sac. He started licking at it, swirling his tongue around both of my balls, moving them around inside my scrotum with his tongue. His other hand returned to his own cock and started rubbing it again, his rhythm far quicker than before.

The sensation was a bit odd because it was unfamiliar: girls, and most guys for that matter, just aren’t into balls. I’d heard other guys make jokes about ball-licking or scrotum-sucking but had always thought of it as something you might try, find a bit weird and then never return to.

But Nathan really loved it. He took one of my balls into his mouth, licking it and rolling it around with his tongue and then moved across to the other and did the same. I could feel his breath against the base of my cock, coming out in short rapid bursts. He was getting really excited by this, relishing the sensation of having the sources of my sperm, of my manhood, inside his mouth.

I liked it too, but more from the fact that he was getting so into it than from the physical feel of it. I pushed his hand away from my cock and started masturbating it, opening my legs and pushing my hips forwards slightly to drive my balls further into his face. I ground them into him and he groaned his appreciation.

He impatiently pulled my trousers and briefs further down my thighs and worked his tongue downwards, underneath my balls. He pushed it forwards between my thighs, working it into the sweaty hairy cleft and, with my free hand, I grabbed the back of his head, egging him on. As if encouraged, he started pushing it in, running it along the valley between my balls and my arsehole, licking it like he was feeding from it.

I buckled my knees and pushed my hips further towards him, allowing him access to my hole. My hand speeded up on my cock and I gripped it as hard as I could, masturbating it roughly. I loved the feel of his tongue between my legs; loved the anticipation of where it was headed.

But before it got there, as it was on the verge of reaching its prize, he pulled out and stood up.

He stood face-to-face with me, his expression serious.

I thought that he’d had second thoughts about what we were doing; that he was going to back out. I didn’t know what to say.

But then he put his arms around me, pulling me forwards and towards him, and pressed the large hard mound at the front of his grey trousers into my cock.

Grinding it into me, he said, “I just had a thought: I didn’t lock the front door.”

I wanted him. I felt a desperate urge to have him lick my hole and then to turn him around and fuck his arse right here in the shed. I really needed it and everything else was irrelevant.

I get like that sometimes.

I snapped, “Fuck the door. No-one’s gonna bother us.”

“And what about your girlfriend?”

That stopped me in my tracks.

“Oh yeah.”

He smiled. His mouth smelt slightly of my cock and of my arse-sweat. “Don’t say you forget all about your girlfriend every time a cute-looking a guy comes along…?”

I smiled back. “And where’s this cute-looking guy supposed to be?”

He giggled. “Like you don’t find me cute… like you weren’t checking out my arse when we were in the house…”

I kept smiling at him.

Then I said, “It’s not my fault if you’ve got a very fuckable arse, Mr Blackmore.”

He looked pleased. “Well… if we go and lock the door, then maybe you’ll have the opportunity to get better acquainted with it, Dr Wallace…”

That sounded like a pretty good offer. “Okay.”

He leaned forward as if to kiss me, but I casually moved away like I hadn’t realised.

As I pulled my trousers back up and zipped the fly, I noticed that the front of his jacket was wet with dribbles of my precum from where he’d been pressing himself against me.

I pointed at it and said, “That’s gonna be a bugger to shift…”

He looked down at it and winced. “Oh shit. My mother’s gonna go up the wall. I’ve only had this suit for a couple of weeks…”

As we left the shed and made our way back up the garden path in the near-darkness, I asked, “So you’re still living with your folks, then?”

“Yeah. It’s a bit of a pain. I’m supposed to be looking for something but prices are off the scale at the minute…”

His still living at home made me wonder how old he was. I’d assumed he was around my age – in his mid-twenties – but I realised he could easily be at least five years younger than that. He certainly looked very young; his face was fresh, his attitude almost boyish.

We walked through the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. He opened it and we glanced out. I half-expected Melissa to be standing in the front garden, trying to call me on my mobile. To my relief, it looked like she still hadn’t arrived, though: the road in front of the house was still empty except for my car.

I said, “I wonder where she is… I hope she’s okay…”

I reached into my jacket and fished out my mobile phone. I can’t have it switched on in the surgery and Melissa’s always having a go at me for forgetting to turn it on to check for messages when I leave work.

While it warmed up, Nathan locked the front door. He said, “I bet she’s coming at seven o’clock like it says on my appointments list. I bet she phoned into the office and they changed her time without changing yours.”

Then he walked back down the hallway to the kitchen while I scrolled through my message list to see whether Melissa had sent one.

Sure enough, she’d sent a message that afternoon saying she had to work late and had changed our appointment to seven o’clock. Knowing her sense of time-keeping, that could mean she’d arrive anytime in the next three hours.

I went through to the kitchen and found Nathan in his shirtsleeves, dabbing at the front of his jacket which was lying outstretched on the draining board of the sink. He was partly bending over, inspecting the results of his efforts, and I walked up behind him and rubbed the bulge of my mostly-limp cock between the twin mounds of his arse.

I said, “You were right. She’ll be at least another half hour… maybe a lot longer…”

I looked at him through the darkened window in front of us and saw his reflection grin. He looked up at the window and looked at me through it. He grinned more broadly and said, “Nice one.”

I grinned back at him and continued rubbing myself against his arse cheeks. My cock was gradually coming back to life and he could no doubt feel it becoming more solid as it pressed into him. “You know, Mr Blackmore, your arse seems even more fuckable looking at it as you’re bending over…”

He smiled his beautiful smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Makes me wanna pull the back of your trousers and ram my cock up there…”

He chuckled and faked a camp voice. “Oooh you’ve such a way with words, Dr Wallace.”

I reached round his hips and felt the mound his cock and balls were making in the front of his trousers. His cock felt really good – large and thick – and I told him so.

He seemed puzzled, “You like guys’ dicks?”

“Absolutely. All shapes, all sizes, but especially nice big ones like yours…”

He laughed as I kept stroking his developing bulge. He said, “Funny… I didn’t quite see you as a cock man…”

“What sort of man did you see me as?”

He was a little hesitant. “I dunno… I guess a tits and pussy man… and in the absence of those… maybe an arse man…”

I laughed. “I’m an anything man.”

His cock continued to develop inside the confines of his trousers and my own did the same, pressing insistently into his arse cleft. I gently rubbed the length of his rod, now feeling far more solid and becoming wonderfully thick, between my thumb and forefinger. I felt it stiffening further in response and squeezed it with more pressure through the dark grey material. He gasped quietly and then bent further forwards, pushing his arse more firmly into my cock and then grinding it against me.

I moved my fingers up to his belt and quickly undid it. Then I unbuttoned the waistband of his trousers, unzipped his fly and reached in to feel the warm, hard rod now making a tent in the front of his white briefs.

He giggled, “For a straight guy, you seem to know what you’re doing…”

“I’m a medic. Undressing people is part of the training…”

He laughed more loudly. “Yeah. Right.” He didn’t seem convinced.

I reached into the slit in the front his briefs and, with a little difficulty, pulled his large fat cock out through it. It was a similar length to my own but far thicker. It felt heavy and meaty in my hand: it was exciting to find such a large, thick well-developed man-cock on a boyish guy like Nathan.

His foreskin covered the head of his cock completely. It was odd to see an erect cock, and especially an erect cock of the size of Nathan’s, with its foreskin totally unretracted. I immediately, perhaps through force of habit, wrapped my fingers around its stem and tried to pull his foreskin back along his length. But Nathan grunted in pain and shoved my hand away, pulling forwards and away from me.

He said, recovering and moving back to press his arse back into me, “Sorry mate. It’s just it doesn’t go right back. It’s a bit weird, I know…”

“Oh right. I didn’t know… sorry…”

“No, it’s okay.” He stood up straight and looked down at his cock, which didn’t look quite so hard now. Then he smiled and went on, “I guess my foreskin couldn’t keep up with my bell-end when my cock was growing…”

I reached down and gently stroked his cock, hoping to keep it stiff. “You can sort of see why…”

He laughed. “Yeah. I guess size has its disadvantages…”

With my left hand I reached around his chest and pulled him towards me, grinding my cock into his arse again. I wanted to reassure him that this wasn’t a problem; that, if anything, it added to my interest. He fell back into me, his neck against my chin. It smelt of shampoo with faint traces of his body spray.

Squeezing his cock gently with my other hand, I whispered, “You’d better show me how this thing works, then.”

He reached down and held my hand in his. He gripped my fingers firmly and worked his foreskin forwards rather than backwards. It moved an inch or so over the fat head of his cock, puckering up at the end of it like an pair of extended lips made by a kissing cartoon character.

I’d never seen a foreskin do that before: I was fascinated.

He moved my hand forwards and backwards a couple of times, showing me how to masturbate him, and then left me to try it on my own. I soon got the hang of it and started gently wanking him, keeping the opening of his foreskin well in front of the end of his cock.

I said, “Is that okay?”

He grinned. “You can be a lot rougher with it. It’s not like really sensitive or anything…”

“I don’t wanna hurt you…”

“It works fine as long you don’t try to force it over my bell-end. That’s all..”

“You can fuck okay with it…?”

“Only arses… and especially blond doctors’ arses…”

I smiled. My cock hardened rapidly again to hear him talk like that.

He went on, “…but I don’t suppose you’d be into that…?”

I said, “As I said, Nathan, I’m an anything man…”

I felt his own cock stiffen and thicken to full size at the prospect of him fucking me. I liked that.

I moved in towards his ear and licked it a little with the tip of my tongue. Then I whispered, “As long as I get to go first…”

He chuckled and his cock stiffened even more. “First… second… third… you can have as many goes as you like…!”

I pulled the top of his trousers down to his upper thighs, revealing the back of his tightly-fitting briefs. His arse cheeks looked firm and round inside the thin material and I let go of his cock so that I could feel them. For a few seconds I was content to explore their solid, muscular curves through the seat of his briefs, but I rapidly tired of doing that and felt I needed a more intimate understanding of them.

I pushed my fingers up through the legs of his briefs and worked my fingers around on the warm, smooth flesh of his buttocks, relishing the sensation of doing so inside his underwear. I loved the idea that I was feeling them almost as they would be during his day: wrapped up snugly and cosily within the white cotton material of his underpants.

I worked my thumbs into his arse crack, groping through the light fuzz of hair inside it, and quickly found his hole. It felt hot and moist; slightly sticky, even. I could almost smell and taste the sweaty, pungent atmosphere inside his cleft; could imagine how firmly his muscular ring would grip my cock. My mouth watered and my cock ached.

He said, “I’ve got a condom if you need one…”

I pulled down the back of his briefs, exposing his smooth white cheeks. They looked even better than they’d felt.

I said, “Not yet…”

I knelt down behind him and stared at his arse as I kneaded his cheeks inside my palms like they were made of dough. Then I moved my thumbs back into his cleft but this time pushed them slightly into his hole.

I said, “You’ve got a beautiful arse, Nathan… it’s absolutely fantastic.”

He giggled. “A lot of guys have said it’s my best feature…”

Despite his amusement, I was more serious. “Your face is beautiful. Your smile is out-of-this-world. Your cock is amazing. Your arse has a lot of competition if it wants to be your best feature…”

He giggled. It sounded kind of cute. Then he said, “Well, why don’t you fuck it, Dr Wallace?”

I said, “I wanna taste it first…”

I lunged forwards to press my face into it, to enjoy the taste and smell of it, but to my surprise he pulled away.

He called out, “No… I mean, yeah… if you want to… but…”

Still kneeling, I looked up at him. He’d turned to face me and I saw that his cock had softened. It hung down in front of his charcoal grey trousers, still looking thick and meaty, but clearly a shadow of its former self.

I asked, “What’s up?”

He looked a bit sheepish. “Nothing… it’s just that… well, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to…”

I said, “I know that. I want to do it to you. Really want to…”

He looked a bit confused. “Well… you know… it’s my arse. Have you had any dealings with guys’ arses…?”

I smiled. “Apart from anything else, I’m a medic. So yes. I’ve had the odd dealing here and there…”

He smiled but his eyes betrayed the face he was feeling a bit embarrassed.

I said, “Look… I really, really wanna taste your arse, Nathan…”

He kept smiling but looked troubled. “It’s been a long day… I might be, you know… a bit smelly down there…”

I laughed gently. “I know what I’m getting into, here… I love the taste of guys’ arses. And your arse is so amazing to look at, so amazing to feel, that the taste has to be pretty amazing too…”

He smiled. I wondered if he was troubled because I was, for the most part, straight and supposedly unfamiliar with the deepest darkest places of men. But then I wondered if there might be more to it than that.

I stood up and went over to him. I put my left arm around his waist and gently ran the fingers of my right through his dark brown hair. I said, “Did something once happen… did some guy once say something that upset you?”

He gave a half-smile. He looked a little troubled. “Well, kind of…”

I moved my fingers down his forehead and caressed them along the ridges of his eyebrows. His dark blue eyes looked at me with developing trust and affection.

I whispered, “D’you wanna tell me?”

He shrugged. “I dunno… there’s not much to tell.” He gave another half-smile and then went on, “He was straight. Not like you: I think it was his first time with another guy. He kept going on about how he wanted to lick my arse… to push his tongue up it… but when he did, he got really traumatised…”

“He didn’t like what he found?”

“I guess not. I suppose it just didn’t occur to him that arses have other functions…”

I smiled and moved my left hand down his back and caressed his smooth, round cheeks again. I said, “It’s the fact they have other functions that makes them so fascinating to me…” He looked a bit puzzled so I clarified myself, gently working my fingers back into his cleft as I talked to him. “What I mean is: a guys’ arse is such a private, undiscussed part of him – still seen as taboo and ‘dirty’ by so many people – that getting close to it, understanding it, is an almost essential part of getting intimate with him… I think that’s what makes guys’ arses totally irresistible to me…”

He smiled and nodded and I pushed one of my outstretched fingers into his hot wet hole. His cock began to rise again, slowly lengthening and standing up from the front of his trousers, in response to the action of my finger. His rectum contracted tightly around my finger as if squeezing me in appreciation and affection. How could anyone not find this guy’s arse totally captivating?

Withdrawing my finger from his insides and rubbing it gently around the puckered ring of his anus, I said, firmly, “Now, you’re gonna turn around and I’m gonna push my face into your arse, Mr Blackmore. Then I’m gonna lick your hole and push my tongue up it. I’ll probably have to get my dick out at that point because I’ll need to wank. After that, you’re gonna pass me that condom you mentioned and I’m gonna fuck your brains out with you bending over the sink. How’s that sound?”

He gave me a smile to die for and, when it had subsided and he was just looking at me, grinning and nodded, I found myself leaning forwards to kiss his lips. As I did so, he moved his arm around my back to hold onto me, and we gently pressed our lips together. I don’t know why I did that: I don’t normally kiss other men. I guess it just seemed right at that moment and, looking back, I’m glad I did it.

I pulled back from him and he smiled again. Then he turned around, bent over the skin with a hand on each tap and said, “Go for it, doctor…”

I knelt down behind him again and pulled his trousers a little further down. I could see his large heavy ball sac hanging down between his thighs, swinging pendulously forwards and backwards as he moved.

I reached to his arse with my right hand and pressed my fingers into his cleft. I found his hole again and worked my index finger easily into it. His arse ring was loose, and the thought that it had been stretched open by a succession of men before me made my cock begin to press painfully inside my briefs again.

I pulled my finger out, enjoying the fact it had been wettened slightly by his rectum, and then managed to slide two fingers into him together, still fairly easily.

I pulled them out and then pushed three fingers into his hole. This time there was resistance and he gasped slightly.

I said, “Painful?”

“Slightly, but keep going. What are you doing down there?”

It hadn’t occurred to me that he wouldn’t know what was going on.

“I’m managing to get the Albert Hall up your arse, Mr Blackmore…”

He laughed. “Before you say anything – it’s always been like that…”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” I laughed. “Nothing to do with the two hundred other house-buyers who you’ve given special treatment to, of course…?”

He laughed even more. “You might not believe it… but this is the first time I’ve done it at work. I’ve had loads of women coming onto me while I’ve been showing them round; never any men.”

“Not for the want of trying…”


I pushed my three fingers further into him, feeling the soft, hot passage of his rectum snaking its way deep into him. He gasped again.

I withdrew them slightly and then pushed them in again. He moaned in appreciation and I did it again. He pushed back against my hand, obviously enjoying the sensation of me finger-fucking him. A few years earlier I’d have marvelled at how a guy was able to feel pleasure from having another man penetrate his arse: in the meantime, though, I’d learned a lot and I knew exactly how good it could feel.

I started fingering him more quickly, pushing in and withdrawing in rapid succession. Above the sound of my wrist slapping against his pale buttocks, I heard him groan a grateful “Aaah, yes!”.

I pushed my face nearer to his arse cheeks and inhaled the thick, pungent smell coming from his cleft and from my thrusting fingers.

I kissed his arsecheeks, feeling their silky smoothness against my lips and nose. Then I roamed around them with my mouth, moving from one buttock to the other while my fingers continued their work, driving rapidly in and out of his hole. I loved the sensation of having this part of Nathan, the part that he usually kept covered and unseen, pressing into my face and against my lips.

I moved my face downwards, towards his hole and pressed my nose and lips between his firm round cheeks. The air inside his cleft was hot and rich with the smells of his arse and of my fingers. I inhaled it and adored it; thick, heavy, sweaty and undeniably anal. The unique smell of Nathan’s most intimate spot.

It was strong but not overpowering, a distinctly male smell full of sexual meaning. It was enormously arousing to me – I revelled in its rawness and primitive carnality – and I pitied the poor guy who’d been so offended by it. What an opportunity he’d missed.

With my free hand, I hastily pulled my cock out through my trouser fly. The desire to masturbate was just too strong.

Nathan moved his body to look down at my cock and I think the sight of that, more than anything I’d said, helped him to relax. It stood upwards at full size – eight inches tall and throbbing like it was about to burst. My foreskin was fully retracted, the red head of my cock wet and shiny with the precum that had been leaking from it from since I’d walked into the kitchen. It was a cock inflamed to maximum with the passion of its owner; Nathan finally accepted that I really did enjoy his arse in all the ways I’d claimed to.

I pulled my fingers out of his hole and moved them down to my waiting cock. My fingers were slick and sticky with the juices from his arse and I rubbed them over the swollen head of my cock as if allowing it a taste of the meal it was about to enjoy. Then I gripped the stem firmly and started quickly masturbating myself, gliding the foreskin up and down the length of my cock with long, swift strokes.

I pushed my face downward in Nathan’s cleft and started licking around his open anus, tasting the salty, sweaty juices clinging to it. Then I forced my tongue through his opening, inching along his hot passage as I outstretched it as far as I could. He groaned again and grabbed his arse cheeks, pulling them apart to give me better access. He wanted me inside and he wanted me deep.

I plunged my tongue into him as far it would go, overwhelmed by the taste of the hot, musky juices of his arse. His right hand left his buttock and went to his cock; his body started shaking rhythmically as he masturbated himself as quickly as I was. His left stayed where it was: pulling his arse cheek away from his crack, opening his hole as far as he could.

I started fucking him with my tongue, aware that I was getting dangerously close to cumming. I slid it in and out of his arsehole as he frantically beat his cock and grunted in pleasure. I was loving it: loving it way too much! I desperately wanted to save myself to fuck him but was unable to stop myself from masturbating, driving myself onwards towards my rapidly approaching orgasm. It was already in view – over the horizon and rushing towards me – but I was powerless to stop the car.

He pushed back against me, his arse demanding more of my tongue, and half-squatted down against my face. I felt something hitting my chin and realised it was his balls, bobbing around inside his large dangling scrotum, slamming backwards into me as he wanked his cock as roughly as he could.

But then, just as my orgasm was about to hit me, he pulled away.

He said, “Jesus!”

I thought maybe he’d cum.

But then I heard the noise from the front door.

He turned around, his big cock almost hitting me in the face. “It’s probably your girlfriend.” His voice sounded breathless; almost emotional.

I stood up and tried to push my cock inside my trousers. “Shit!” The idea that it might be Melissa at the door had instantly extinguished my passion but my cock was still too hard to fit comfortably into my briefs.

Nathan pulled up the back of his trousers and then, like me, struggled to get his large cock back into his tightly-fitting briefs. As he did so I noticed the pink bands along its length from where he’d been squeezing tightly it as he’d masturbated.

He said, turning around to show me his arse, “Have I got a damp patch around my arsehole? It feels as wet as hell down there…”

“No. Put your jacket on anyway. Just in case it soaks through…”

The sounds from the front door continued. An irregular banging: not knocking exactly, it was more muffled.

I managed to get my cock into my trousers and zip them up as Nathan said, “Has she got a good sense of smell? We must reek of what we’ve just been doing…”

Before I could think about that I noticed the kitchen window in front of us.

I asked, “You don’t think she walked around the side of the house and saw us, do you? She’s not exactly knocking politely…”

He looked a bit horrified. “I didn’t see anyone through the window.”

“You weren’t really looking, though…”

“Er… no…”

I thought of what she’d have seen: her boyfriend eating – no, devouring – another man’s arse. Her boyfriend wanking himself frantically as he did so. There wasn’t really any way I could get out of this: no hastily-devised stories that would explain everything.

We walked to the front door and saw that someone was trying to force something through the letterbox. My first thought was that she’d written me an abusive letter and was pushing it through but then I realised it was the local ads paper.

Nathan realised the same thing at the same time and laughed.

He said, “Oh yeah. That’s one of the advantages of living in this district, Dr Wallace. You get three free ads papers a week…”

I was still too stunned by the thought of being caught by Melissa to find him amusing. The newspaper, torn and battered from trying to get through the stiff letterbox, fell the floor and the sounds of footsteps faded away down the garden path.

He looked at me and smiled. Then he walked right up to me and kissed my lips again. I didn’t resist him but I didn’t respond either. I just let him do it. He didn’t force himself; he knew that I wasn’t comfortable with it.

He moved away from me and said, “Where were we? Let’s see, now… you’d inspected the outside of the property… expressed concerns over the state of the kitchen… and then… oh yeah… you were about to fuck me as I bent over the sink…”

I chuckled. “Actually, maybe you should show me around the upstairs. That kitchen window’s gonna freak me out if we go back in there…”

He walked over to the foot of the stairs. “Okay. If you’d like to follow me…”

As he climbed the stairs with me behind him, I said, “Your arse does have a damp patch on it…”

He reached the top and smiled at me. “Can’t keep your eyes off my bum, can you?”

“Not just my eyes…”

He said, “The house has three bedrooms and a bathroom. Where would you like to start?”

“I think I’ll go for… the bathroom…”

He gave a knowing nod like he’d expected as much. I guess I must have an air of a guy who likes bathrooms.

He led the way and I followed him in.


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