Men Go Their Own Way Pt. 02

He was older, probably in his late sixties, and had a certain air of refinement and elegance about him.

He introduced himself. His name was Jonathan.

'I was wondering if we might have a little chat,' he said, with a hopeful half-smile.

We went to the pub. I had a pint, he had a glass of red wine.

'This is a little bit awkward,' he said. 'I don't really know how to explain it.'

'Why don't you just assume that you can explain anything to me,' I said.

'Well,' he said, 'my wife died some years ago, and since she died, I've realised that I, um...'

I waited. He sipped his wine.

'That perhaps I like men as well as women,' he said. 'I know you do, because you said you did.'

'I do.'

'It's not easy for me to meet people,' he said. 'I've always wanted to see what it would be like to, you know...'

'To be with a guy,' I said.

'Yes,' he said, and went rather pink. 'I was wondering if maybe you knew any gentlemen my age, who would be interested in me, or might be interested...'

I felt a pang of affection. For once, he wasn't asking me. He was just wondering if I knew anyone.

'I don't, sorry,' I said. 'My friends are mostly my own age.'

'Ah,' he said, looking crestfallen. 'Ah well. It was just a thought.'

'Look,' I said, and hesitated, and then plunged ahead.

'If that's all you're interested in,' I said, 'if you just want to try being with a guy, I would like to do that. With you. If you're interested.'

'You would?' he said, looking surprised.

'Sure,' I said and smiled. 'You seem nice.'

'I'm old enough to be your father.'

'That doesn't bother me.'

He was silent for a moment, looking at me.

'What would you be willing to do,' he said.

'What would you want to do,' I said.

He was silent for a long moment, then sipped his wine again.

'I have a few... interests,' he said. 'Nothing nasty or dirty. But a little bit odd. I would love if you would like to give them a try.'

'What kind of interests,' I said.

And he told me.

***

A week later, I showed up at his door one Saturday morning.

He lived by himself in an expensive-looking terraced house. He courteously stood aside to let me in.

He offered me tea, but I declined and had a glass of water. Then, after some chat about the house (me complimenting him on how nice it was), he said, rather timidly, 'So, um... shall we begin?'

I smiled.

'Sure,' I said.

He went over to the kitchen counter and picked up a plastic bag, which he handed to me.

'Here it is,' he said. 'The, um, bathroom is just across the hall.'

I took the bag to the bathroom and locked the door and took out the contents.

It was, simply, a nurse's work tunic and a pair of tight shorts. That was what he wanted me to wear.

I closed the toilet lid and sat on it, then took off my trainers and socks. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, removed my jeans and slid out of my boxers.

Then I pulled up the shorts--they were rather tight--and put on the nursing tunic.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and the sexy young male nurse winked back at me.

I put my clothes in the bag, left it on the bathroom floor, and went back to the kitchen.

'Well, Jonathan,' I said briskly, 'how have you been?'

'Oh,' he said, 'not so bad.'

'Time for your medication,' I said. 'Do you have it there?' I went to the sink and poured a glass of water, and took it over to him.

He was sitting at the table. Before him was a box with an array of pills in it. I handed him the glass and he began to take them. I couldn't help noticing that one of them was the unmistakable pale blue diamond shape of Viagra.

'That's it,' I said. 'Get them down you.' I was trying to be as officious and as annoying as possible, because I suspected that that was what he wanted.

When he'd taken all the pills, I started moving about the kitchen tidying things up and putting them away, and carrying on a line of chatter about how he needed to get more exercise and medication alone wasn't going to keep him healthy. All the while, I knew he was eyeing me in my tight shorts and tight tunic.

As I talked, I wondered if in fact he really hadn't been with another guy. Perhaps that was the line he chose to reel me in.

I decided I didn't care. I was on my new track of trying to foresee what would happen, and meet it head on.

He had promised me that things might get a little 'interesting', and that he intended to be the 'dominant' one, but that I had to first boss him around. That was fine by me.

I took out his vacuum cleaner and started vacuuming. Hardly the job of a male nurse, but it was something else to give me the air of his attendant, the person who was in charge of him. As I did so, I tut-tutted about how dusty the place was, and that he should keep it cleaner.

'I know, I know,' he said in a resigned voice, 'it's just hard when you're my age.'

'Well,' I chattered, 'my father's over 70 and he still looks after himself. You really could keep this place a little cleaner, you know.'

I moved the vacuum cleaner into the living room and began vacuuming there. He followed me in a rather half-hearted way and hovered in the door.

I nattered on about TV I'd been watching and the state of my love life, hinting at partners but being ambiguous about what sex they were. He went and sat in a large armchair.

Fifteen, twenty minutes went past and I had vacuumed the living room and the hall. I carried the cleaner back through the living room and put it away in the kitchen, then I took a duster and returned to the living room. He was still in the chair.

'Well, you'll be having a walk later, won't you?' I said. 'You need to get exercise today.'

'Oh, I'll get exercise,' he said mildly. I walked past him on my bare feet, heading for the side table to dust it, but he grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.

'What's this?' I said.

'Time for my exercise,' Jonathan said, and he pulled me down so that I stumbled and fell over his lap, face down.

He slapped my arse inside the shorts. I stared at him, outraged.

'What are you doing?' I said.

'You do talk an awful lot,' he said. 'You need more discipline.'

And he spanked me again.

'How dare you!' I fumed.

'You come in here and you talk and talk, but you don't think about my needs,' he said. 'It's time for you to attend to my needs.'

'I'm not your toy!' I said hotly. 'Let go of me!'

I struggled, twisting, and when I was half-facing him, he reached forward and pulled down the zip on my tunic, opening it at the front. I gasped.

'How dare you!' I said again. He pulled it down my arm and grabbed my bare upper arm, and it fell off that side, and then he rolled me onto my belly on his lap again, and it slid off the other arm and fell to the floor.

'You're a very provocative young man,' he said.

'This is absolutely out of order!' I said.

He spanked me again, and I squealed with shock. Then he did it again, and again, and again. I moaned.

'Oh,' he said, 'I think you like that.'

'I don't,' I gasped. 'This is absolutely abusive.'

'You haven't been abused yet,' he said, and he yanked on my arm. 'Stand up.'

I stood up, and he got up from the chair and stood behind me, feeling my body with his hands. I stood there, trembling. Only my tight shorts were between me and him.

'What a fine young body you have,' he said. 'So neat and trim. Do you exercise a lot?'

'I swim,' I gasped.

'I bet you do. Do you shower naked?'

'You can't do that,' I said, my voice quavering. 'It's a public pool.'

'But you'd like to?'

'Not in public!'

'But if it weren't public,' he said, 'wouldn't you like to swim naked? And have other men see you? And women?'

He reached down inside the front of shorts and stroked my cock.

'Ohhhh,' I gasped. 'Yes...'

'That would be something worth seeing, yes,' he murmured. 'You swimming naked, with all those people watching you. Thinking about what they would like to do to you.'

'You can't do this,' I panted, but I was grinding my hips backwards into his groin.

'You want me to do this,' he said.

'I don't... please...'

'You want me to do this,' he said, and he yanked my shorts down over my hips, stripping me naked.

'OH god!' I whimpered, and I vainly tried to cover my groin with my hands. He slapped them away. My shorts slithered down to my ankles and I stepped out of them.

'You fantasise about being in the shower,' he said.

'Yes...'

'Come with me,' he said, and he nudged me. I walked forward and he guided me out of the living room into the hall, then up the stairs, and across the landing and into another, bigger bathroom. There was a large shower.

'Have a shower,' Jonathan said quietly, and he sat down on a chair.

I looked over my shoulder at him, and he indicated the shower with his head.

Naked, I went over to it and I turned the water on. I was acutely aware that I was naked in the room with him and he was still clothed and neat and alert. When the water was warm, I got under it. It felt great. I washed myself, occasionally glancing at him.

He watched me for a long time, and then he started to talk.

'You fantasise about being in the shower,' he said again. 'It's a public place, but only men are in there with you. Men you don't know. You like the intimacy of it, being naked among strange men.

'You start to touch yourself. You touch your penis.'

Obediently, I began to stroke my cock, which soon got hard. I lowered my head and let the water run down my face, and I opened my mouth slightly and breathed as I began to masturbate.

'You feel yourself getting hard,' he said. 'You wonder if anyone can see you. But you don't know, because there's too much steam and your eyes are closed.'

I took the hint and shut my eyes. I wondered if this was all he wanted: to watch me shower naked and jerk off. He could see the water cascading down my naked back and buttocks: the shower door was fully open. The bathroom floor was tiled.

'As you get more aroused,' he said, 'you wish there was someone there with you. Someone to be intimate with. You wish there was another body next to yours. Perhaps a man. Perhaps a woman. You can feel yourself feeling more and more aroused, more and more receptive.'

'Ohhhh...' I gasped. I turned my face up to let the water batter into it, and stuck my rear end out behind me.

'You can imagine a man, seeing you, naked and ready to be used, and not being able to resist your beautiful body.'

'Oh god,' I whimpered. I was so close to coming that I had to fight back the urge to do it. My other hand was caressing my naked chest and belly and thighs.

'And then,' he said, and his voice was suddenly a good deal closer in my ear, 'it happens.'

And in one moment, the water turned off, and a hand filled with a thick mound of what I realised was shaving cream pushed it into my face and smeared it over my eyes and forehead and nose and mouth, blinding me, and I felt an erect penis push between my buttocks and press at my anus.

'MBLBLLL!' I mumbled in shock, my open mouth full of shaving cream, but then his arm came around me and pulled my hips back into his, and he pierced my ass and was going up inside me.

I made muffled squeals as Jonathan began to sodomise me, standing up in his shower, wet and naked and blinded. I felt the fabric of his shirt against my back, and that of his briefs against my bare bum: his sole concession had been to remove his trousers, presumably so they wouldn't get wet.

'MMNNN! MMMMN! MMMM!' I squealed as he pumped into my arse, his long cock filling my rectum and exquisitely piercing my pride and dignity. He had got me to dress up as a nurse and boss him around, and in revenge he'd grabbed me, spanked me, stripped me, made me shower in front of him, and now he was fucking me senseless as I fought to stay upright on the slippery tiles.

'You don't know who he is,' he panted in my ear. 'Some complete stranger is having his way with you. You give yourself to him. You will never see his face, or know his name. You just know his manhood is inside you. And that you want to be used like this.'

'Aaauuuhh!' I whimpered.

'You yield to him,' he said. 'You give him your hole and he takes it. He makes you his.'

'Oh fuck,' I gasped. He slapped my buttock smartly and I squealed.

'Language,' he said.

'You feel him getting his release,' he said, 'and it is all that you want, that he should take your body and make it his own.'

'Oh, please...'

He was silent, his stiff cock pumping into me for a few more seconds, and then he sighed, and I felt him cum inside me. I let out my breath in a long, high-pitched whimper and stood there, trembling, nude and wet and blinded and shivering slightly.

He slowly pulled out of me, and I felt that I shouldn't move.

I stood there, shivering, my face still blanketed in a mask of shaving foam, and I hugged my arms to myself, not bothering to cover my bum or my genitals.

And then I heard the clicks of a phone camera, as he photographed me, his wet, naked, messy little bitch.

I didn't move. I let him do it. I sensed that this, above all, was what he wanted to take away: the memory, and the photos of me as I'd been when he was fucking me, all wet and nude and blind and vulnerable.

There was a long silence, then I heard the bathroom door shut.

I fumbled for the shower controls and turned the water back on.

Some minutes later, clean, naked and dry, I came down the stairs and went back to the other bathroom and found my clothes where I'd left them. I put them back on, and then went into the kitchen.

Jonathan was seated at the table, wearing different clothes. He smiled at me.

'Thank you very much,' he said.

'Was that really your first time,' I said, smiling.

'I'd rather not say,' he said.

'Well, I'm glad you came.'

'I'm sorry you didn't,' he said.

'It's fine,' I said. 'Compared to some guys, you were a perfect gentleman. I knew more or less what I was getting in for.'

'I hope the shaving foam didn't sting your eyes.'

'No. I like being blinded. If we ever do this again, perhaps a blindfold, though.'

'Perhaps,' he said.

'Could I see the pictures?'

'You don't mind, do you?' he said, picking up his phone.

'As long as I'm not recognisable,' I said. He handed it to me. There were about a dozen photographs of me standing in the shower with a faceful of shaving foam, my arms folded, my hands on my shoulders, naked and glistening with water. I would have known it was me, but nobody else would. I handed the phone back.

I paused, and from the way he didn't say anything or offer me a drink, I guessed it was time to leave.

'I'll see myself out,' I said.

'It was a great pleasure,' he said. 'Thank you again.'

'See you,' I said, and I turned and walked out to the hall.

Jonathan never did come back to the group.

I wonder what happened to him.