Date: Wed, 8 Feb 2012 19:30:21 +0000
From: Edmond Giles <edmond.giles@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tony and Friends - Instalment 1

1

   I didn't much want to take a lodger. But if I didn't improve the cash
flow, the building society was going to repossess the house. But I wasn't
prepared to take on any old lodger. I'd take my time to decide who I would
permit to share my living space. I asked some guys in the pub if they knew
of anyone who wanted accommodation. They came up with two names. I didn't
recognise either of them. I can't expect to recognise everyone in town.
Charlie told me that thirty-two year old Hugo worked in his office and had
just had a messy divorce. Josh's friend Jamie was twenty-five and had a
steady girlfriend. He was living in a village outside the town and wanted
to move in closer to the centre. Hugo was desperate to move, but there was
no urgency for Jamie. The choice was simple. I didn't want to land myself
with a total nutter and wanted time to take up references and establish
some ground rules before committing myself. Jamie it would be, unless
someone else turned up. Of course I couldn't shit on my mates by doing the
instant decision thing, so I agreed that Charlie and Josh should get their
friends down the pub on the next couple of nights to meet me and talk over
the possibility.

   Charlie's a good guy. Always on the lookout for a good deed to do and a
lost cause to support. He's short and he's way overweight and deeply
married with four daughters. I suspected that Hugo would turn out to be one
of his lost causes. I was right. When he swaggered in to the pub the next
night, I saw that Hugo is drop dead gorgeous. He knows it and exploits
it. The attitude is that the world owes him a living, and his interests are
always to come first. Arrogant wasn't in it. He stayed for one drink and
then went off, saying that there was a bird who needed him to make her
day. Probably on the pages of a stroke magazine, I thought. Who needed a
crazed up git like that anyway? Charlie made all sorts of excuses for Hugo,
but I could see that he wasn't pleased at his swift departure. We had
hardly touched on the details of the house, and I felt sure that Hugo had
decided he wasn't interested.

   The next evening Jamie came in to the pub with Josh. Josh works for the
Council in some admin office. Again, his candidate for my lodger was a
colleague. But he couldn't have been more different to the repellant
Hugo. Early twenties, average height, slightly stocky build, average colour
hair. Ask me to describe him ten minutes later and I'd have struggled.
Until he smiled that is. Jamie's smile reached out and grabbed you. And it
wasn't just a smile on the lips, it seemed to come from deep inside,
flowing out from his eyes as well. A genuine people person, it turned
out. Very easy to get on with and prepared to talk about anything. We
talked in general about the house and the rent and if there were any
special rules. As we walked down the High Street to go and see the house,
he started to hint that he thought I might be gay, and that was no problem
for him.

   I wasn't sure how Jamie would cope with my occasional nocturnal
companions. But then, I wasn't going to come on to him since he had the
gorgeous Emma lined up to deal with his needs. Not that I would have
objected if he were willing. Ordinary looking he might be, but the
personality was great. I could certainly go for that. But I'm not far off
being old enough to be his father, and I'm under no illusions that he'd be
interested in a walk on the wild side. Just as well really. I want a steady
flow of rent money, not a live in partner. We agreed on the rent, and
Jamie's share of the chores, and set a date for him to move in, subject to
satisfactory references from his current landlord and line manager. I'm
sure that would be no problem. And it gave me nearly four months before
Jamie would move in, since he had to give a full quarter's notice where he
was living at the moment.

   I'm Tony, by the way. Thirty-nine. Never been married. Never been with a
woman, in fact. And never felt any interest in doing so either. Oh yes. And
I work as a civilian with the police. I take photographs of crime scenes
and victims. it's not what you would call nice work. But it's steady
despite the advent of digital cameras. I also do medical stuff for the
hospital; surgical techniques and recording physical debility and the
like. About half my time for each of those jobs. I used to have a photo
shop and develop film for other people. Business fell off, and so I took
the job with the hospital. After some pictures taken in A&E one night, I
got taken on by the police as well. They still want my kind of technical
expertise, and I'll never be bored, but I don't think there'll be any close
encounters in the dark room at work in the cop shop! Despite equal
opportunities legislation, I still don't think the news that I'm gay would
go down too well with my mates at work, even if I were ready to come
out. The hospital's a different matter, but you have to be careful as much
as you can.

   it's not that I'm totally closeted. People that I'm interested in have
no problems in working out the situation. No. it's more a matter of "don't
ask and don't tell." I'm comfortable with who I am, and it's not as if I'm
a slave to my right hand when it comes to sex. I don't think I'm god's
gift, but I'm certainly not an ugly bastard either. The old body is in
reasonable nick, thanks to plenty of physical activity and one session a
week in the gym.

   The house is secluded, set back behind the shops on the High Street,
with just a number on a door to show where I live. In fact, the door is
really my garden gate. You have to walk down the alley behind it and across
the courtyard before you get to the front door. There's no real garden,
just the courtyard in front, and that is overlooked by the windows of a
tattoo parlour on one side and a solicitor's office on another. The back of
the house looks onto the garden of the almshouses, so all the windows have
net curtains to put off the window-lickers and other nosy folk. The house
has a medieval foundation with a cellar that I've converted into a
playroom. On the ground floor, there's a sitting room and a dining room,
and a room that I like to call my study, with a loo under the stairs. Off
the kitchen there used to be a large windowless storeroom that I've set up
now as a darkroom. Then, upstairs there are the four bedrooms and two
bathrooms that complete my home.

   A woman called Mary comes in to clean through for me each week and to do
the ironing. We get on really well, and I'm sure that's because she has
sussed out that I'm no threat to her stability. Tuesday is her day, so I
spend most Monday evenings ensuring that I've put away any overt evidence
of my sexual interests. That means putting all the mags and DVDs in the
locked cabinet on the landing and making sure that I've activated the
combination lock of the door leading to the playroom.

   I've lived in the house for seven months, since I moved here from the
county town. I'm useless at DIY, and that meant getting someone in to
convert the cellar space. I was a bit concerned about that, because I'm
sure that anyone could work out from the plans what I was going to use the
rooms for. OK, one of them was not an issue. It was going to be a
bedroom. That sounds fairly vanilla until you saw the plans I had for large
mirrors that were to be mounted on three of the walls and as the
bed-head. Then there was the bathroom. A shower room big enough for at
least three people to use, with a bog in plain view and a urinal for four
in an alcove. The other room was absolutely plain: just six large rings set
into the steel reinforcing beams of the ceiling.

   Well, I need not have worried. I contacted a small firm back in the
city, and they were entirely matter of fact about it all. Alan was the boss
of the firm. I explained where I wanted lights, specified a non-slip sealed
floor covering, and asked for some help in sourcing some large mirrors. He
made some sensible suggestions about light-fittings and power supply, and
then sent his sparks round to deal with what we agreed. The electrician was
an old boy, close to retirement age. He came round with his son, who was
young enough to be an after-thought or an accident. They did their work
without any comment. The plasterer who followed the sparks was his
son-in-law. None of them said anything much, apart from telling me that
they liked sugar in their tea.

   Then it was the turn of the plumber. Again, nothing was said. Joe was
about my age with dark curly hair and a neat bum. And a wedding ring on his
finger. He said that he hoped I would enjoy working out in my new gym,
which flummoxed me, until I saw the glint in his eye. He knew exactly who
and what he was looking at. I just winked and gave a sheepish grin in
answer to his comment. The painters and the floor people came from another
firm. I didn't see them at all, because I was away on a course. Alan let
them in and out, and made sure that all was well at the end of each day.

   I got back from the course to find a note on the hall table hoping that
I was pleased with the work, and asking me to ring Alan about some ideas he
had. I went down stairs and was thrilled with the atmosphere of the
place. The wall lights gave gentle but clear illumination. They were black
wrought iron sconces with candle bulbs. Naff, I know, but really effective
against the oatmeal paint on the rough-cast walls. The floors were a tan
colour, with dark brown rounded moulding at the edge, so that the mop would
not have difficulty getting into the corners. I phoned Alan, and he
suggested that he come round for a drink so that he could explain his
ideas. We agreed on putting some shelving in the bathroom, so there would
always be towels to hand. Then, absolutely dead-pan, he said, "Do you want
fitted units in the other rooms so you can put away your toys after use?"
Well, that made it plain that he knew what I was after, and that he wasn't
put out by it. With a slight blush on my cheeks, I agreed that cupboard
space would be useful. Alan promised to come round on the Monday following,
with his carpentry assistant, to do the necessary work. It would be useful
to have them in the house then, because the mirrors and the bed were due to
be delivered. And off he went. Shit, I thought. He knows what I want, but
he doesn't want to help me inaugurate the facilities.

   At about eight o'clock on Monday morning, I was in the shower when I
heard Alan let himself in. I finished drying myself, and left the bathroom
to get dressed. On the landing, there was a young guy with long blond hair,
torn jeans revealing a bit of a hairy knee, and with bulges in all the
right places. "I'm Tim. Alan says do you mind if we have a cuppa before we
get started," he said, looking me straight in the eye and not letting his
gaze stray over my naked body. I hurried into my clothes and dashed down to
find my mug of coffee on the kitchen table, and the two lads just going
down to work in the cellar. I reminded them about the delivery and went off
to work.

   All through the day, my mind kept turning to thoughts of
Tim. Fortunately, if I kept the jacket of my suit buttoned, my half hard-on
wasn't noticeable. During my afternoon tea break, I went into the bog and
had a wank in one of the cubicles. It didn't take long, just a few strokes
and I exploded, sending a stream of cum up the partition wall. It took a
minute or so for my heart to stop racing, and I was about to mop up the cum
that had puddled on the floor, when I heard the door squeak as someone came
in. Quickly, I wiped up my cum, flushed the bog and left, but not before
noticing the large shoes and trouser cuffs of one of the uniform branch as
he locked himself into the next cubicle. That was a narrow call. With a bit
of luck he didn't see me wiping the floor, and wouldn't recognise who I was
anyway.

   At the end of my shift I headed home, looking forward to seeing the
completed work in the cellar. On the table, as before, there was a note in
Alan's handwriting. It read: Hope you like it. I threw my jacket on a chair
in the kitchen and went down the stairs. All the doors in the lobby were
shut, and a small fridge had appeared in the little space under the
stairs. Opening it, I found some cans of lager. I snapped one open, and
turned to the door leading to the empty room. A large cupboard had been
fitted with double doors. One side was shelved and the other had hanging
space. Plenty of room for the toys I had yet to buy. Perhaps I would go up
to Soho at the weekend to buy them, together with the sling that I intended
to suspend from the rings in the beams.

   Next, I opened the door to the bedroom. Wow! The bed had been put in
position, and the mirrors had been hung. The room looked spectacular. But
that wasn't the first thing I noticed. Alan was sitting on the bed looking
up at the TV set mounted on a wall bracket. On the screen was a porn
flick. A young white guy was being fucked by two black men, one thrusting
into his arse and the other into his mouth. As I watched, one of them
pulled out of the white guy and pulled at his fat cock. His lips pulled
back as his wanking hand thrashed more violently. The camera panned down in
time to see his cum shoot out in five or six blasts, splashing across the
white kid's face and back. I looked at Alan. His close-cropped, dark-red
hair looked almost fiery against the bright red bed coverings and
pillows. Where had they come from?

   "Hope you don't mind," he said. "I took the liberty of making it all
look ready for use. Do you like what you can see?" I certainly did. And I
also liked the look of him. I reached out a hand and grasped his, pulling
him to his feet. I'd only seen him in work clothes before, usually in baggy
overalls. This evening, he was wearing tight black denims. Thanks to the
stroke film, they left nothing to the imagination: a long length of cock
was stretching the fabric and pointing off towards his left thigh. Above
that, he wore an open-necked white shirt revealing a great deal of chest
hair.

   "I haven't seen it all," I said, "I haven't been in the bathroom yet."
He grinned, and responded, "There'll be time enough for that, I think." And
he pulled me close, wrapping me in his muscular arms. ?I'm glad you like
it," he said as he kissed me, first on the tip of my nose and then on the
lips. I could feel some movement in his denims as his stiff cock began to
twitch, and my own dick began to extend itself in response. I ran my hand
over his scalp as our lips met again, and felt his tongue begin to explore
my mouth.

   One of his hands ran down my back and across my buns, before moving
round to squeeze my package. ?Not yet, Alan," I said, "I'm still hot and
sweaty from work. Unlike you, I haven't had a chance to shower up." He just
grinned again, and asked if I would like someone to soap up my back, to
which I responded that he would be welcome, but that I'd sooner that he
concentrate on my front. His hands gently unknotted my silk tie, and began
to undo the buttons on my shirt. I tugged his shirt-tails out of the tight
trousers and ran my hands up his sides. No love handles, just smooth skin,
until I slid my fingers across his chest. The hair that I had seen at the
neck of his shirt spread out across his pecs in a mass of curls. And there
was a further surprise. Both of his nipples were pierced, the large rings
just begging to be tugged. I obliged, and then quickly unbuttoned the shirt
to see the delights that my fingers had discovered. Shirtless, we pressed
together. The hair on our chests mingled and rasped, just as our tongues
were duelling, first in his mouth and then in mine. Slowly, we humped our
crutches together, evidence of strong arousal pushing out in front of each
of us.

   Alan knelt before me to unlace my shoes, and then to slip the socks from
my sweaty feet. His mouth pressed against the bulge of my cock and traced
along the length of it, before settling on the sensitive head. I moaned,
anticipating the closer encounter still to come. Alan caressed my balls
with one hand as he undid the belt with the other. He looked up at me, and
said, "I'm ready for this." And he slipped open the waistband, and eased
down my zip. His lips moved into the fly, meeting the dampened fabric of my
pants. ?This smells as though you've had some activity already today," he
smiled. I confessed to the wank I'd had at work, which made him laugh. ?I
hope that has just made sure that you'll last longer this evening," he
said, slipping my trousers down towards my knees. ?Good," he said, "hairy
legs. I do like that in a man." He pulled down the bulging pants, catching
the ring in the tip of my penis with the waistband, so that it flicked up
and caught him on the chin, leaving a drool of lube to run down onto his
neck. Briefly, my pierced cock head slipped between his lips and I felt the
tickle of his tongue on my sensitive underside. His fingers slid back
behind my balls and rubbed along my perineum towards my arse. ?Hairy back
there, too. Nice," he said as he sniffed at his fingers. ?Yeah. I reckon
you do need a shower. Let?s go for it."

   With that, he bounced to his feet and kicked off the loafers from his
sock-less feet, and unsnapped his jeans. As if propelled, his meaty dick
fell forward from the confines of the jeans. No pants for his boy. His
pubes were the same dark red as the curls on his chest. His balls hung
large and low between his thighs, and his circumcised cock hung out over
them threateningly. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the
door. "Come on. I've got towels and stuff already in the bathroom."

   Further surprises were in store. Black shower curtains hung ready to
stop splashes of water getting onto the floor in the dry area. A bank of
lockers completed the changing room theme, and blocked the view of the loo
off to one side. Thinking of the loo made me realize that I needed to
piss. And I had company. Standing at the urinal, long slender horn in hand,
was Tim. I stepped up beside him and said, "Fancy meeting you here!" Alan
came up beside me on the other side, and took hold of my cock as I
pissed. He seemed fascinated by the way the pee spurted out alongside the
ring in my dick head. ?This was Tim's idea," he said, "I was just going to
set everything up and leave you to it, but having seen you in the nude this
morning, he wanted us to help you enjoy your first time down here in the
play room."

   Tim turned away from the urinal and smacked his hard cock against my
thigh, smearing his precum into the hair on my leg. ?Let?s hose you down,
and then deal with anything else that might come up," he said, kneading at
my butt cheek as he did so.

   We moved into the showers, pulling the black curtain behind us. The hot
water jetted furiously from the four showerheads, tingling our skin and
raising clouds of steam. Tim tipped back his head under the stream of water
and then swung his head to get his shoulder-length hair clear of his
eyes. I gazed down the full length of his wiry frame as he stretched. The
fur on his legs seemed to thicken as it crept into his crack. He saw me
looking and bent forward, exposing the little pucker of his arse to me in
its furry nest. I ran a finger down over the water-slicked hair, and felt
his arse pout to my touch. I knelt behind him and spread his cheeks with
each of my large hands, admiring the beauty of his arse before bringing my
lips to kiss his. I felt him shudder and saw one hand leave the wall and
grope into his groin to massage the upward curve of his delectable cock.

   Alan was soaping me up as I rimmed Tim, running his hands over my hairy
back and legs and up into my armpits. It felt good to wash the sweat of the
day off me. Better still to have the task done for me by a hot stud like
Alan. I felt his hand sweep the soap across my butt and reach through to
fondle my scrotum, gently moving the orbs in their sack. He reached further
forward, his hairy forearm rubbing against my perineum and washed my dick
by wanking it slowly with his soapy hand. Suddenly, he stopped and reached
above me, grabbing Tim's arm. ?Slow down, kid. The night is young and you
don't want to waste your load on the floor just yet." Tim?'s hand slowed
down and then stopped jerking his cock. Alan and I stood up and the three
of us moved together into a group hug and open-mouthed kiss, our three
tongues vying for attention.

   We rinsed off. Shut off the flow of water, and pulled back the curtain.
The towels Alan had bought were black to match the shower curtain. I liked
the way Tim's blonde good looks were set off by the contrast. Alan's pale
skin beneath the red hair looked just as effective. I just hoped that my
own dark tan and black body hair didn't seem to be just dirty against the
rich, soft fabric. Soon we were dry. None of us had lost any rigidity in
our pricks. Tim's thin length swung from side to side as he reached into
his bag in one of the lockers, and then plied the brush he brought out from
it. A beautiful sight that got me going again. Alan pressed against me from
behind, his tusk pressing against my crack as he tongued the side of my
neck and played with the ring in my helmet.

   Moving back into the bedroom, I sat on the edge of the red-sheeted
mattress and reached out for Alan. If I'm honest, I'd rather it had been
Tim, but it's important to share and share alike in a threesome. Seeing his
prick up close made me realize that it was a real butt-buster. It was at
least two inches longer than mine and really broad at the base, narrowing
towards the tip. The skin of his shaft was darkened in a couple of places
just behind the head, revealing the grip that he used when wanking himself
off. I tugged on his foreskin and then nibbled gently at the wrinkled skin
at the tip, getting a foretaste of the joys to come, as my tongue met with
a dribble of his dick-snot. My head moved forward and my lips parted over
his helmet. It took me some time to adapt to having such a whopper in my
mouth. Eventually, my nose was pressed into the warm fragrance of his bush,
and his big balls churned in his scrotum resting on my chin. I contracted
my throat as if swallowing, and was rewarded with a groan of enjoyment from
Alan. He seemed to be shifting around a bit, and I realized that he was
getting to grips with Tim's lovely firm sausage.

   Tim pushed up Alan's arm to reveal the blood-red thicket of hair in his
pit. He smiled, and then stuck out his tongue to lap up the drops of fresh
sweat that had begun to appear there. Alan writhed pleasurably, twisting
his dick in my gullet. That threatened to cut off my air-way and trigger my
gag reflex, so I eased off a bit, letting his fat juicy dickhead rest on my
flickering tongue as I savoured again the joy of his juice. Tim's fingers
pulled at the hair on Alan's chest and then his forefingers pushed into the
rings set in Alan's nipples, tugging mercilessly at them. With his mouth
pulled open in a silent scream, Alan came. His thick, creamy load splashed
against the back of my mouth. Sweet and slightly salt, it was a real treat.
Some of it trickled out the side of my mouth, and I felt Tim's tongue slide
along my lip to catch a few drops, as Alan thrust the last of his orgasm
into me. As his crown became too sensitive to bear any more tonguing, Alan
pulled back, his shaft continuing to twitch invitingly.  Tim's tongue then
raped into my own mouth, seeking the remnants of Alan's come. I hotched
back onto the bed while Alan passed Tim a condom and a tube of lube.

   Tim slid the condom onto his slender hook. As he wanked his cock with
one hand, he brought the tube of lube to his lips, and held the cap between
his strong, white teeth. With a savage turn of his wrist, he opened the
tube and spat out the cap. He applied a generous dollop of the gel to his
cock and continued to move his fingers over the crown. Alan raised my legs
to Tim's shoulders, my hairy calves rasping against his five o'clock
shadow. Tim brought the tube down between my legs. The cold jelly made me
draw in my breath sharply. A shapely finger began to tease the lubricant
into my tight hole. Just the fingertip at first, then two joints of his
forefinger entered me. He frigged the finger in and out for a few seconds
before he inserted a second finger alongside the first and began to pull at
the sides of my hole, stretching the sphincter. Then a third finger was
added. Uncomfortable at first, but soon I was shivering with delight. Tim
saw that I was ready and withdrew his fingers with an audible plop. Alan
leaned forward from his vantage point at the bedside and took hold of his
assistant's prick. Slowly and deliberately, he led it towards my open
arse. The warmth of the young blond's pulsing prick began to invade my
rectum. He eased into my tight hole, obviously wanting the moment to last
as long as possible.

   I knew that it would not be long, though. His hands were shaking as he
grasped the length of my prick and began to tease the ring with his lubed
finger. Soon he was thrusting away, alternating slow, long strokes with
frenzied short jabs. I was soon as close to orgasm as he was. We paused for
a few moments, pulling Alan into our tight embrace. Tim resumed fucking my
now gaping hole, and Alan's mouth replaced Tim's hand in ministering to my
hard-on. As I looked down my body, the sight of Tim's fit young form
pushing its way between my thighs brought me closer to my orgasm. Alan
pulled back from my groin, letting me see that my balls had pulled up tight
against the base of my cock, and that my helmet had swollen more and more,
now looking like a ripe plum as the moment of truth arrived.

   My hips jerked and were then still. My dick spewed out its load of
cum. It splashed up onto Tim's moving torso, and fell back onto my own
belly. Tim juddered to a halt and I could feel his tension. With his eyes
closed tight in rapture, he barely moved in my arse as orgasm overcame
him. I could feel the pulsing of his cock, as he shot again and again into
the condom buried within me. He fell forward onto my chest, smearing his
finely-muscled stomach with my cum as he did so. Alan masturbated himself
to a second frenetic orgasm, which splashed across Tim and me, and then he
lay down beside us, moving his hands over our exposed flesh as he rubbed
the cum into our skin. The air was filled with the smell of cum and fresh
masculine sweat which we savoured while slowly relaxing from the sexual
high of our mutual release. What a wonderful way to get my playroom off to
a good start.