The Garden Shed

Gary paused and asked himself was that really true? What if he was marooned on a desert island with just a man as companion or several men? A pity it wasn't a party of girl guides, no, he meant Venture Guides or something. Girls who had knowledge of bush craft, which he didn't and would be very useful; and were old enough for sex - lots of it in the sunshine and sea! If on the desert island with another man/men would he succumb to a need for sex - until rescued by a boat load of women sailors of course! Or, if not on this island, would he be prepared to do homosexual if women were involved as well - by which he did not mean a homosexual orgy with the lesbians keeping to their side of the room and the men on the other: no he meant sharing a woman with another man - or sharing women with another man.

If next door were bi, say, would he mind, whilst kissing Zoe, if Tom interposed his cock between them, just slipped it there, so Zoe and he had each to lick the shiny plum whilst kissing each other; would he mind that too much or, to go a bit further, would he object to sucking Tom, yes taking Tom's cock in his own mouth, whilst Zoe sucked on Gary's own cock and Tom sucked Zoe in turn - oral sex in the round; more seriously would he mind Tom plugging his arse if his cock was, in turn, up Zoe's behind? Most seriously would he mind plugging Tom whilst Tom plugged Zoe's bottom, Gary fucking Zoe's arse vicariously? Not too keen really but, reflecting, he could see if it was either that or no Zoe which way his choice would turn! But that hardly made him gay or bi - the important thing was to have the woman there! And he would quite like to try the double penetration thing, with Zoe as the filling between their sandwich, Tom and his balls slapping together as they worked as a team. Was that even bi let alone homosexual? It seemed more an act of friendly brotherhood. Gary wished he had the opportunity of doing that when younger - sharing a girl with a mate in a friendly way.

What if Zoe pressed Tom's and his cocks together and licked them both at once like a double ice-cream cornet; he could not but feel Tom's hard-on right against his own cock and what might Zoe do with two cocks in her hands, bi or not? Wouldn't she rub the two heads together anyway as a giggle to discomfort the men, measure them one against the other (Gary was sure he would lose, lose by more than a margin), pretend to have the two little mouths kiss as she compared their thickness (surely he would win that by quite a margin!), be amused if pre-cum bubbled up from one and deliberately smear it across the other rubbing the two heads together, smooth sensitive skin rubbing oily together. What would an excited and adventurous woman do with two cocks?

More fun, though, to have a different threesome and no other man involved - say, Zoe, Zara and he, Gary. But could he handle two women together? Had he the staying power? Perhaps they would be kind and not expect too much! Crikey, both of them turning up in his back garden whilst he was hoeing naked or something, erect even, apologising for intruding whilst he, in confusion, offered them tea.

Zoe telling him there was no need to dress on account of them, they were quite happy with him like that, "just like that." He could imagine them insisting he stayed erect, whilst he made tea, their hands carefully at work; and then again sitting in the garden, two female hands holding him whilst they drank tea. "No, don't let us disturb you - just stay like that." Warm hands just holding his cock as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do; the women dressed: he half naked and very exposed at that. Gary imagined being thanked for tea and the girls getting up to leave, and then, as an apparent afterthought, Zoe saying, "Oh yes, I almost forgot, Zara's tits or mine. I think that is the done thing."

The done thing! A difficult choice but probably prudent to go for age first, "Yours please." Imagining Zoe's shirt being pulled over her head revealing her ample breasts with dark centres; breasts so achingly suitable to be masturbated over. "Go on, wank away, let's see what those big balls can send up that thick, thick cock shall we?

Bloody hell, what an idea, letting fly all over Zara's breasts whilst both she and Zoe just stared. He imagined their eyes wide as he made his cock spew all over Zara's chest, imagined his cum dripping from her nipples. The idea was too much for Gary, his fist raced and what seemed like gallons of the stuff began shooting from the fat end of his solid, thick, stumpy cock to splash on to his tummy, thighs, hand - everywhere! He had really worked himself up!

It was a monster orgasm - he hadn't come like that for a long time. And as the gorgeous third spurt came, thick and creamy, he heard a sound, the sound of the thin wood shed door behind him creaking open. Gary's head jerked round fearing the worst - young Zara catching him wanking just at the moment of ejaculation and then turning on her heels to run; or was it Zoe her hand rushing to her mouth in disbelief, or worse the mysterious male watcher, his tongue sliding across his lips at the sight of so much cum?

It was none of them, none of them at all, not Zara, not Zoe, not the bloke; just Marmalade, the ginger tom from next door, Zoe's cat, pushing aside the shed door with its paw and walking towards Gary purring. Gary began breathing again - an enormous sigh of relief - and turned back to see his cock make one final half hearted spurt. As he did so the cat brushed its coat down his bare leg and turned to do the same with the other. Marmalade wanted to be stroked. Gary obliged with his left hand, the hand not covered in sticky white semen, which was still stroking his stumpy cock. Gary was relieved but still not best pleased with the cat for both frightening the life out of him and half ruining one of the best orgasms he had ever had. He sat, his tummy, hand, thighs and cock all wet and milky from his recent ejaculation and looked down his garden. "We all like to be stroked, Marmalade, but, if you don't take it unkindly, I'd rather your mistress was stroking me than me you!" He chuckled. Presumably the cat had brought in the handkerchief. Cats liked to play with things - probably pretending it was a mouse.

Rising - really it was far too hot in the shed; hot enough, though, for some steamy, sweaty masturbation - indeed rather good for that - he might well try it again; it had been really good sitting there wanking away to his imagination as the sweat had trickled down his sides; more like the sweaty, sticky real thing (as far as he could remember; it had been a long time and not often that good - with her...).

Gary opened the shed door and walked back down his garden looking, he was sure, a real mess, with the stuff running everywhere. Obvious as sin what he had been doing for anyone to see. Only there wasn't anyone. It was his own private garden -- a garden that was not overlooked at all - and he could walk quite freely just like that; just as he might to the bathroom from his bedroom. It was his own business whether he dressed, half dressed, walked naked in his garden or strolled all covered in his own cum ... or was Zoe perhaps really peeping through a knot in the fence seeing him as naked as the day he was born walking unconcernedly down his garden path with his thick, thick cock and low swinging balls all covered in ejaculate, the same splashed across his tummy and thighs and his right hand also looking rather sticky. Well, he didn't care, didn't care at all; if she cared to look she could. That's what men did. He raised his right hand to his mouth and licked. Salty. Now what would she think of that? A man happy to taste his own cum. Was that man enough for her?

It was hot, very hot and Gary felt sweaty and sticky but still he liked the idea of Zoe watching, so he picked up his hoe and carried on with his work leaving his cum to dry in the sun - a very visible demonstration to a watcher of just what his cock, his stumpy thick cock could do in earnest. He would shower later. Gary gave a wry smile. There was no one looking of course, no one looking at all, no one interested in his thick cock however much he rated it himself. Unfortunately, much as he would really have liked to have been watched by Zara or Zoe, it had just been Marmalade, just the tom cat, and that was all: there was no prospect of naughtiness with Zara or Zoe, no chance of seeing their breasts, there would be no opportunity to watch their naked bottoms or pudenda, no chance of sex with them; no chance of sitting companionably and masturbating together - with or without the vegetables; the sad reality was that he was on his own - a happy, freely wanking, balding, getting on a bit, gardener (with a very nice thick cock - of course).

He'd check for knot holes later; just in case; it would be negligent not to check; after all if you could look in - you could just as well look out and it would not be too disappointing at all to peer through and see chubby little dark Zoe walk across her garden and casually take off her clothes to sunbathe; no, hardly a disappointment. He'd certainly be happy to watch.