A Solitary Man Ch. 01

This is my first attempt at writing a purely fictional story and I hope you enjoy it. Having said that, the characters are based on people I know or have met. I do my own editing and proof reading and I'm aware that I'm not as good as many other authors on here, so please consider that. It contains depictions of incest, mild BDSM and underwear sniffing (both male and female) as well as gay sexual play amongst other things. If you're offended by these subjects it would probably be better to pass this story by.

----------------------------------------------

Brian.

A nondescript name for a nondescript man.

In many ways he liked his solitary life. Unseen by just about everyone who passed him in the street. It gave him comfort to go unnoticed. It hadn't been that way when he was at school so many years ago.

He wasn't academically bright. Never had been. He wasn't good looking either and he was an introvert. He just wasn't made that way. Socially inept, quiet and shy. That hadn't helped him back then.

It wasn't only that though. At barely 5'5" tall his slim, some would say scrawny body, only seemed to accentuate his shortcomings. With the thick rimmed glasses he had to wear and the fashionless clothes his mother bought for him, it all made him a target.

He no longer suffered the sideways glances, snickering, nasty comments and physical bullying now he was older. People barely noticed him at all.

He liked that.

He'd had a tough upbringing. A single child brought up by his lone mother. His father had died when he was just 3 years old. Fortunately the life assurance payout meant his mother had something to fall back on. She'd paid off the mortgage and still had enough money left to keep them both comfortable That along with her job as a secretary gave them more than enough security. Even so, she constantly told Brian that she couldn't afford to buy him nice clothes like the other kids at school or have the other luxuries so many seemed to have.

Oh no, they had to be careful.

"Money doesn't grow on trees," she would snap at him whenever he asked for new clothes or shoes. If he pushed her too hard, she would slap his face hard and send him to his room crying. For someone so petite she had a strong hand.

She was a hard woman. She'd raised him to respect his elders, be polite, do chores around the house and to make do with what they had. If he ever got into trouble or answered back, she was quick to punish him. Sometimes with words, other times with her hand. If he'd been particularly bad, it was with the leather strap or cane that hung from hooks on the mantelpiece, either side of the fireplace. A constant reminder of what he could look forward to if he stepped out of line.

In spite of this, he loved her. It wasn't as if she punished him often, just when he deserved it. Always a source of comfort whenever he'd been bullied, she would hold him, softly saying he was her special little man and it would all be over when he left school. She would rock him in her arms until his sobbing stopped. He felt so secure in those moments.

He loved her very much.

By the time he was 11 years old his mother knew he would struggle at school, but he'd always been good with his hands. Just about every toy she'd ever given him had been taken apart and put back together again. He had an aptitude for it. He enjoyed seeing how things were built. So she asked his uncle Clive if Brian could help in his workshop. He was happy to help.

Clive was a huge guy, always in overalls covered in muck, but he had a friendly face with red chubby cheeks. Brian liked him and he loved being around the cars waiting to be repaired and the smell of grease, oil and metal. All the tools neatly arranged on the walls. Always clean and well looked after. Clive taught him the value of tool maintenance.

He wasn't his real uncle. Clive was a family friend and had been in Brian's life since he could remember. It was his mother that called him uncle Clive, so it was just natural that Brian did too. He spent more and more time at the workshop and it became a place of refuge whenever he'd had a bad day at school or with his mother. Uncle Clive never bullied him or shouted at him, just taught him about cars and engines.

By the time he was 16, he could strip down an engine and put it back together without thinking about it. He could repair bodywork, weld, spray and fabricate small parts. He even understood the electrics to some extent, although he still had a way to go.

When he left school it was with the expected low grades, but he managed to get an apprenticeship working for a company that repaired, maintained and serviced trucks. He loved it there. He especially loved working on the trucks. He had a lot to thank uncle Clive for.

The other mechanics there were generally nice to him, even though he remained introverted and quiet. He had to put up with some occasional banter, but it wasn't bullying, just guys being guys. In the main they accepted him. As the days and months went on he became part of the crew. He never took a day off sick and they even had to force him to take his holiday entitlement, although he would have preferred just to be there working.

It took 3 years to complete his apprenticeship and by then he'd become respected by his colleagues and the management. They often tried to get him to go with them for nights out, but he never did. He wouldn't have known what to do in a social situation like that. He knew it would have been uncomfortable for him.

Of course by then at 19, he'd discovered masterbation. He loved that just as much as he did working on the trucks. He would see a photo in a magazine or newspaper that would trigger an erection and away he'd go. He would wank off as much as he could. Anything between 2 and 4 times a day. He didn't tell anyone and nobody would have guessed just how much he jacked off.

Oh yes, he really loved wanking his cock, but because he was cut he learned the need for some kind of lubricant to stop his member becoming sore. Anything would do. Baby oil or Vaseline at first. Then he started to buy something designed specifically for the task from his local chemists. He was embarrassed the first time he bought it, although the old man serving hardly seemed to notice.

He'd done it loads of times at work. In the toilets or in the locker room showers after work. It was the smell that excited him, although he didn't really understand why. He also liked knowing his cum was on the floors where his workmates walked or on the toilet seats where they sat. He was careful to make sure he was always alone.

He even did it on the toilet seat at home sometimes too, thinking about his mother not realising she was sitting on his dried spunk. Instinctively he knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. He would dab small drops on different parts of the seat and flush the rest away. His cock would get instantly hard whenever his mother went to the loo afterwards.

Maybe it was just his need for some kind of contact. Albeit not physical, at least it was a kind of connection. His colleagues feet, thighs or buttocks. The same with his mother. For him it was sexual contact. All he knew was that it turned him on.

He never dated a girl. He never went out or really had any friends. He knew his limitations. He knew women wouldn't want anything to do with him. He was no catch and the only man he'd ever really had a conversation with was his uncle Clive. Even that was limited.

So he contented himself with masturbation and leaving his cum where contact could be made, even if they didn't know.

At 20 years old his needs became stronger. Leaving his cum in places it could be unknowingly touched still excited him, as did the smell of his male workmates in the locker rooms and toilets. He was curious to know if he'd feel the same about a woman's scent.

The first time it happened he was in the toilet at home. The dirty laundry basket was there and when he lifted the wicker lid, he saw them right on the top. His mothers knickers. They were turned inside out and the gusset was the first thing that caught his eyes. He could see some slight staining. Without thinking the next thing he knew they were at his nose and he was drinking in the musky scent.

His first scent of a woman had him exploding hard and quickly. It became a regular treat for him afterwards. It was different. It didn't matter that they were his mothers knickers. To him it was just the scent of a cunt.

Occasionally he would steal a pair to take to work with him. In the safety of the works toilets, he moved from sniffing them to licking them. He swore to himself he could actually taste it. He would began cum over the gusset too, imagining his mother wearing them after he carefully returned them to the laundry basket.

Fortunately she never caught him. He would have been in serious trouble if she had.

He continued this for the next few months before he made an error of judgement. The need to know his cum wouldn't be wasted in the washing machine was beginning to eat away at him. So he decided to take a clean pair from her knicker drawer one evening. He took them back to his bedroom and furiously wanked and filled the gusset with his spunk, before putting them back where he'd found them.

He'd been stupid. He didn't think she'd realise what he'd done. After all it would be dry by the morning. How would she ever know? So he laid on his bed and let his mind drift as he imagined her putting them on the following day. Knowing she'd be "wearing" his cum on her pussy. Just as she probably had on her thighs and buttocks so many times before. Just like his workmates had too.

He began to stroke his cock again. This time thinking he might find the chance to get hold of some of his colleagues underpants too. Maybe while they were showering he could sneakily spray them and put them back, then watch as they put them on. That would probably be a step too far, but the thought excited him. Much easier to sniff and lick them like he had his mothers.

He was hard and as all those thoughts filled his head, he didn't hear his mother come upstairs. He didn't hear her walk past his bedroom door. He didn't hear her go into her bedroom. The only thing he could hear was the blood rushing through his head as he wanked his cock.

He did hear her scream however, and he did hear her footsteps as she stomped towards his bedroom. He didn't have time to cover himself before the door flew open and his mother stormed inside with the pair of knickers in her hand. Her face was red with anger. Her eyes reflected the fury she felt.

"Brian Thomas!" she bellowed. "Get your fucking arse off that bed and get downstairs. Now!"

He started to look for some clothes.

"Now!" she screamed

He stood up naked. His hard on had shrivelled completely as she took him by his ear and led him downstairs to the living room.

She made him stand in front of the sofa and held out her spunk covered panties for him to see.

He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. The shame of what he'd done encompassed his whole being.

"Is this what I think it is?" she demanded. Her eyes filled with rage. "And don't even think about fucking lying to me," she added. The sheer disgust of what he'd done written all over her face.

With his head hanging in shame, he nodded.

"I fucking knew it," the words spitting from her mouth. "It's not the first time either is it. I fucking knew it!"

His shame coloured his body as he stood there naked, caught red handed. He could still see his cum glistening on the gusset. There was no get out. There was no way he could deny it.

She made him hold the sticky panties as she took the leather strap from the hook on the mantelpiece.

"Now you'll stand up straight and take the strap you dirty fucking pervert," she told him coldly.

She moved behind him. Then he felt the first blow. He'd felt it before and he knew it would hurt, but not like this. She applied the strap with much more force. He immediately yelped as the strap tore into his buttocks.

His eyes filled with tears as she continued to beat his cheeks hard. His blurred vision filled with the cum covered panties in his hands.

She shouted abuse at him as she did her worst. He was a pervert. He was disgusting. He was a dirty little man.

Then it happened. He got an erection. It was purely involuntary. He didn't know why or understand it. Yet there it was as his mother thrashed his bare arse. He cried and sobbed but his cock just got harder. He hoped she wouldn't see from her position behind him, but she did and that made her thrash him even harder.

She eventually stopped and moved to face him, screaming obscenities at him. His cock responded by getting even harder. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he desperately tried to make it go away, but it wouldn't.

She really didn't know what to do or how to handle the situation. This was the last thing she'd expected to happen. Brian could see the confusion in her eyes. His buttocks were on fire, but he felt a strange sense of victory because her eyes were fixed on his bone hard cock. She was the first person to see him hard and it turned him on. He tried to shake the thought from his mind, but he failed.

Even in this shame and pain filled predicament, he was enjoying the unexpected exposure. His cock throbbed as his heartbeat increased. His mothers sudden loss of control gave him confidence and he straightened his back, pushing his solid cock forward. He wasn't sure what it was, but he saw the look in her eyes as she stared at him. His lack of sexual experience meant he didn't really appreciate what was happening. All he knew was that he was naked and hard in front of someone else.

He contracted his muscle making his cock bounce up and down, whilst pretending he wasn't doing it on purpose at all. But he was and all the time he kept his eyes on his mother. Waiting to see what she'd do. Waiting to see how she would react.

Nothing.

Filled with even more confidence he moved one hand onto his cock and held the panties underneath his swollen helmet, still watching for his mother to react. He heart was beating so hard now. She fidgeted on her feet but she couldn't drag her eyes away.

He started to masturbate. Slowly at first. Still somewhat afraid of what might happen.

"You dirty little bastard," she said softly. Her voice husky. It had been a very long time since she saw a man's stiff cock. Her confusion continued. She was fighting with herself. This was all wrong. She should be stopping him.

She didn't.

Brian seemed to sense this and began to stroke his cock harder and faster. He could see the look of lust in her eyes now, mixed with her feelings of uncertainty. It only spurred him on.

A few moments later he added more cum to that already in her panties. It was intense for him. To actually orgasm in front of someone else for the first time made his knees buckle. He shuddered as he used his fingers to squeeze every last drop onto the material.

For a few moments they stood in silence trying to come to terms with what had just taken place. The expected tirade of abuse didn't come. Instead she told him to put the knickers in the laundry basket.

"Let that be a lesson for you," she told him, her voice quivering. Trying to sound in control. "Now get to bed."

Of course it didn't stop there. Brian couldn't get it out of his mind. His wanking became even more prolific, but he was careful. His secret was out. He knew not to push it, but he also knew he wanted to repeat it and he couldn't stop the thought that maybe she did too.

Over the next couple of weeks he carried on with his routines of cumming on the toilet seat and locker room floor at work. He came very close to spunking into one of his workmates underpants too. They were just lying on the floor, but remembered how easily his mother had found out. He did sniff them however and was surprised how hard it made him. The scent was so different from his mother.

It didn't matter that they were mens underpants at all. Not to Brian. It was all about the scent and the intimacy to him. He had no real perception of gay or straight.

So it continued.

Taking more risks, he would follow if one of the other guys went into to lockers. Then he would pretend to be doing something as his target got undressed. As soon as he'd disappeared into the shower Brian would grab the discarded underpants and hold them to his nose, often still warm from the body heat. Still sweaty and fresh. If he felt he had enough time, he would rub his cock over them too.

He was acutely aware that he needed to be cautious. He knew it could get him sacked if caught. So he worked out routines. When certain workmates showered. If they were alone when they did and he forced himself to restrict his activities to no more than twice in any one week.

Sometimes he would time it so he could watch his workmate coming out from the shower too. He liked taking glances. It turned him on to see a man naked and would compare his cock to theirs. Most seemed to be uncut and it fascinated him. He started to think what they looked like when they were hard.

He kept his mothers knickers for home use and stopped stealing them to take to work, but always spewed his cum into them. Only the dirty ones though. Until he couldn't stop himself.

After 4 weeks the urge to mess her clean ones again was too much. This time he stole them, spunked in them and just left them on her bedroom floor, hoping she would find them.

She did.

The same thing happened again. Just as it had the first time, although he remained erect throughout and the strap was delivered with slightly less ferocity. Even the obscenities were spoken differently. Less anger perhaps. He wasn't sure. He just recognised the change.

Over the following years, this became Brians life. He didn't really look for anything else. He didn't spend his wages on much either. He gave his mother money for food and lodging, but he did begin to buy more exciting underwear for himself. Jockstraps of varying colours and styles. Thongs and gstrings designed for men. He was amazed at all the types and materials available. He especially liked the tight fitting lycra ones and the way they stretched when he got an erection.

His mother never said anything about this new development and he enjoyed knowing she knew. He always made sure they lay of top of the dirty laundry so she would see them.

His body developed too. His job was very physical so whilst he stayed slim, he did become well defined. Not overly muscular, more wiry. Athletic. Not that it meant much to him, but he did feel good when he looked in the mirror in his underwear. Other than that he remained pretty much fashionless. Jeans and T-shirts and the odd pair of trousers and shirt for anything special. He even had 2 neckties, just in case.

He did want to buy a computer but his mother was having none of it. She knew why he wanted one and she knew how easy it would be to access pornography using one. Whenever he mentioned it she would tell him "My house, my rules Brian Thomas."

By the time he reached 35 years old, he had seen all of his workmates naked at some point and sniffed and rubbed his cock on their underwear. Even the 2 newest employees weren't overlooked. He would wank his cock as soon as he could afterwards, while the memory was still fresh.

Of course he knew he liked men by then. He'd done nothing about it though. Just as he'd done nothing with a woman. Well, except what happened with his mother that is. He was still a virgin and the only person that had seen him naked and hard was her.

Their interplay had continued. Subtly changing over the years. Becoming more frequent too. Usually once per week but occasionally twice. Brian truly loved these moments and would proudly display his erection whilst maintaining an air of shame and humiliation. It was more like a game they played. Sometimes she would be the instigator too. He liked it when that happened.