Date: Sat, 7 May 2016 19:17:22 +0000
From: Bruce Demosthenes <sourceskid@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dominated by the boy next door 48

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While I wasn't proud of the fact I had paid for sex and while sex with
Freddie had been impersonal, it did leave me satisfied for the next week.

I was so content that it came as a surprise when late Friday afternoon my
doorbell went.

Opening the door I found Peter's oldest brother, Paul.

I was so shocked I didn't even say hello.  I just stared at him.

Paul also didn't say anything.

So we stood there staring at each other.

Eventually I regained my composure and said "Paul, right", extending my
hand in greeting.

"Yes," Paul said, begrudgingly shaking my hand, clearly not wanting to be
here.

"What can I do for you," I asked, having no clue why he was on my doorstep.

"Maybe we should discuss it inside," Paul said, visibly nervous.

"OK," I said, opening the door to let him in.

I led Paul to the living room and sat on the 'other' chair (the one Wally
didn't think was his for blowjobs).  Paul sat on the couch.

Again we looked at each other in silence.

Eventually Paul ventured "Peter has a video of you and my dad and he is
threatening to show it to my mother unless I do stuff with you."

That Peter would have used the video for blackmail came as a bit of a
surprise.  Sure, he had blackmailed me, but he also didn't have to for most
of the things he made me do.  Nevertheless, that had been the point of him
making me film the video, to use as blackmail, so it did not come as a
complete surprise, though I guess I never contemplated him using it in this
way (threatening to show it his mom, could he do such a thing).

I thought about telling Paul I had been blackmailed too, maybe setting him
at ease, but I knew that would have been a partial lie.  I also didn't know
what 'stuff' meant.  So I said nothing.

After another long pause of awkward silence, Paul said "Peter showed me the
video and he says I have to do you or you do me like you did my father.
There is no way I am going to let you do me."

I was fifty shades of red.  That Paul had seen the video of me with his
father was embarrassing.  That he, so clearly a straight boy here against
his will, was talking to me about having sex with me was humiliating.

"I am home for the weekend," said Paul.  "I will come over tonight and we
can sleep in the same bed but I am not willing to have sex with you.  I
don't know if I can ever, but I am also scared about what Peter will do if
I don't."

After a few moments of silence, this boy I barely knew, I had only met him
twice (when he moved in and when he came for a swim) continued "I asked
David what I should do and he said I should just suck it up and get it over
with.  That Peter has a mean streak."

I nodded.  I knew Peter had a mean streak.  But I also knew David had been
in on getting their brother to have sex with me for some inexplicable
reason so he couldn't be trusted either.

"So I am going to sleep in the same bed with you and see how much I am able
to tolerate," said Paul.

I just nodded.  The idea of Paul, this blond curly haired boy who looked
like Christopher Atkins in Blue Lagoon, in my bed was not something I would
say no to.  I didn't like he was being forced into it but equally I didn't
want to do anything to oppose Peter.

Paul got up and left, leaving me sitting in my living room confused about
what was happening.

The rest of the evening I was completely distracted.  Part of me was turned
on by the idea of Paul, who I knew from his swimming in speedos had a great
body, in my bed.  Part of me was terrified about being in a situation with
a boy who clearly didn't want to be in the same house with me being in my
bed.

It was 11pm when my doorbell went.

I had already undressed so was in a bathrobe.

Opening the door I let Paul in.

Silently he went up the stairs and I followed.

In my bedroom he undressed, stripping down to his white Fruit of the Loom
briefs, underwear I knew his mother bought and which, thanks to Peter, I
had already sniffed and licked (I had a pair of his in my nightstand).

I went to my dresser and discretely took out a pair of boxers and slid them
on under my bathrobe.

"So we are clear," Paul said, "you can't touch me above the leg straps or
below the waistband" pointing to his briefs.

The fact he was only in white briefs and talking about them, even though he
was telling me not to touch them, was so erotic.

I could see the outline of his cock and balls in his briefs.  I could see
his entire body above and below those briefs.  I would have been content
just to look at him.  And he was saying I could touch him, just not over or
under his briefs.  In a way, that was more than I had done with his
brothers (except for the one week Peter had stayed at my house).

I nodded in compliance.

It was taking every fibre of my being to not get a hard-on.  I was about to
get in bed with this straight college boy and he was clad only in white
FOTL briefs.  Sure he was telling me not to touch his cock but he was also
implying I could touch him elsewhere.  Sure he was blackmailed into it but
he was here, in my house, about to get in my bed.

I had been so turned on seeing him in speedos.  And I had sniffed and
licked his underwear.  I wanted this boy.  It was also a trifecta (three
very similar looking teenage brothers, all with blond curly hair, even
though this one was not going to be having sex with me).

Paul got on the bed and lay on his back.  It was in the place I usually
slept but I wasn't going to complain.

I got on the bed on the other side.

Paul raised his arm to the pillow behind me.

Was he really inviting me to move in and rest my head on his chest under
his arm?

Even though I knew he was homophobic and here against his will, I couldn't
resist the chance to be close to this cute blond curly haired boy.  I slid
in under his arm.

Paul wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

Paul couldn't have known this but I was in heaven.  I was cuddling next to
this hot boy and he had his arm around me.  This was way more than I had
done with his brothers.

Instinctually my hand went to his smooth chest and I ran it over his body.

"You can't touch me anywhere covered by my briefs," Paul reminded me.

"I understand," I said, my voice raspy with nervousness and excitement.  I
hope it didn't freak him out.

The fact we were talking about his briefs, and he was saying I could touch
him elsewhere, was the most exciting experience of my life.  I had to move
my hips away from him, even though I so wanted to be pressed tight against
his body cuddling.  I didn't want him to feel my cock which was now rock
hard.

My hand kept running over his body, touching him on his thighs and his
stomach and chest.  I couldn't believe my luck that this blond university
student was in my bed clad only in underwear letting me explore his mostly
naked body.

After an hour of touching him and caressing him Paul said "we need to go to
sleep."

"Sorry," I said, realizing I was keeping him awake from my touching.

"It's OK," Paul said.  "We do to others what we want done to ourselves."

That wasn't quite true.  I was touching him because he was gorgeous.  I
wanted to explore every inch of his body.  Perhaps that was something true
for straight people.  I didn't know.  I just knew I needed to resign myself
my treat was over, I had enjoyed Paul's body, and now had to go to sleep.

I stopped roaming my hand over him.  I left my arm over his stomach just
above the waistband of his briefs and I put my leg over his thighs just
below the leg straps, careful to keep my hard cock from touching him (I
should have worn briefs not boxer).

I lay like that, under his arm with my head on his chest, arm and leg
across his body, feeling and listening to his breathing as he fell asleep.
It was hours before I fell asleep.

In the middle of the night I awoke and we had shifted.  We were both on our
back, but still right next to each other with our bodies touching.  My hand
was on the front of his briefs and he was hard.

That he was hard meant nothing.  He was clearly asleep.  Boys get hard in
their sleep.  How my hand ended up on the front of his briefs was probably
also not surprising as my hand will go to a cock like a magnet.

I wanted to keep my hand on his cock but I didn't want him to wake up and
find my hand on his cock.  So after trying to memorize the shape of his
cock without fingering it or squeezing it I took my hand off it and rolled
on my side facing away from him and went back to sleep.

I didn't want to wake him and I had received so much pleasure from this boy
I was content.  Plus he was still in my bed, this curly blond university
student with movie star looks, wearing only his white FOTLs.

END OF CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT