The Summerhouse Ch. 03: Benji

Energetically, enthusiastically and desperately, I sucked his cock. I fellated his smooth, velvety rod and adored every second of doing so.

My fingers swirled against his balls, and my other hand gripped the base of his shaft. I tasted and devoured his pre-cum as the bald-headed accountant ran his hands through my hair.

Showing ownership or control? I didn't know, and I didn't care. He had command of me with his prick, that I had willingly impaled my mouth on. I may have started a little apprehensive when he arrived, but I was anything but anxious when his belt became undone.

It took me back to the first time I had sucked a cock, or the first time I had fellated Clare's strapon dildo. The lowly feelings of submission and servitude as I wrapped my tongue over his blunt cock-head or gagged on the length of this smooth shaft. I drifted and gorged on the erotic fog clouding my mind.

My nose smashed in his short, trimmed fuzz of hair. My hand explored his chiselled abs and bulging muscles. My tongue wrapped around his shaft, and my head bobbed on my prick.

He grunted and gripped my head. His cock twitched and the first spasm of cum hit the roof of my mouth. Followed by a second, and a third. "Oh yeah, that's good!" Benji's abs tensed and his muscles twitched as several ropes of musky semen pooled on my tongue.

He smirked at me as I swallowed his cum. "That was good. I needed that. Four days," he said with a chuckle. "My balls needed draining." He glanced down at his cock hanging limply and pulled his foreskin back. "Be a good little boy and clean me up."

The humiliation burnt. I was too eager and wrapped my lips once more around the dripping pee-hole of his delicious prick.

When I had cleaned his alpha dick of his cum and had replaced his boxer shorts, he reached for the rest of his clothes. "I'll text you next week," he said as he buttoned his top. "Any more often and my wife will think I've got a mistress!"

"Sure."

"And next time, I fancy your arse. Make sure you douche and have it ready. Buttplug, obviously."

"OK," I grinned. He nodded towards my erect cock.

"Did sucking me off really make you that hard?" I blushed. "You don't need your girl to make you do this, do you?"

I shook my head, and he grabbed his coat and left the flat.

Clare squealed in excitement when she returned home from Manchester an hour later. She demanded that I retell the account a dozen times before the weekend was out and commanded me to video the encounter next time Benji requested relief. She was so excited, she even fellated me in a 69-position, which was a rare treat.

The following Monday, hours after I had waved my beau off to Manchester on the early morning train, I received a text message from Benji.

Coming to your flat at 7pm. Be ready to be fucked.

My cock hardened instantly. The dominance and presumptuous nature of the message was overpowering. He was telling me that he would be screwing my arsehole. I would be bent over for his enjoyment, and this was non-negotiable.

I struggled during the day to concentrate at work and raced home in the evening. I showered, cooked, douched and then slipped my buttplug into my hole to prepare myself for Benji's meaty prick.

My hands shook. I sat by the window, glancing at every car that came down our narrow side-street. Fevered, desperate, horny. I was every one of those things, and I acted like an overexcited teenage girl waiting for her first date aflutter.

Benji was five minutes late. He passed me his coat as he strode into the bedroom and undressed at the foot of my bed, and took a condom from his trouser pocket. "You ready for me, boy?"

I nodded, breathless and wordless. The bald-headed, muscular dominant oozed confidence, and I melted under the dictatorial control.

He stood, akimbo, with his erect prick jutting into the room, and met my eyes. I dropped to my knees and kissed the tip, running my lips and my tongue over the crown of his smooth cock.

He hadn't come for a blowjob. He tore open a condom with his fingers and pushed me gently away from his cock with a tap on my forehead. "Get the lube, boy."

I reached into the bedside drawer and passed a large bottle of silicone lubricant that he smeared over his covered prick. The black condom contrasted with his alabaster skin, and in my mind, added a touch more filth about proceedings. It was dark, mysterious, and exotic.

I knelt on the bed, and his powerful hands parted my buttcheeks and gently removed the large plug which had filled my butt-hole. I gasped as it came free and he drizzled lubricant over my gaping hole.

The blunt head of his prick felt much better. My forehead hit the duvet as the Latex-clad dick pressed against the token resistance of my hole and slipped into me. I groaned as he filled me. I wanted to feel the submission of being fucked once more, and the grip of another pistonning into my backside.

My cock leaked pre-cum as Benji rocked back and forth in my arse, slowly building up a momentum that rubbed against my prostate. Heavenly pressure, delightful stroking of my most intimate of places.

But it was the mind-fuck. Benji's firm grip on my waist as he ploughed my butt, and his grunting as he dominated my body. He hadn't come for my pleasure; he hadn't turned up to make me happy. Benji was in my bedroom, fucking my arse to unload into it. He was using my submission as a vehicle for him. And I loved it. I adored every moment of powerlessness.

His firm thrusts slamming into my flesh echoed across my body and sent erotic lust radiating across my pores. My head bumped against my pillow with every ram into my backside as our thighs slapped together, providing an erotic soundtrack to our lust.

"You like that, boy?" He grunted the question, jackhammering his stiff prick into my gaping arse.

"Yes," I cried, gasping as his feverish thrusting slammed relentlessly against my prostate. I panted and gasped. My head buried in the pillow. My eyes watered, and my mind agog with a lustful fog.

His prick quivered. He pressed hard against my hole and buried his cock deep within my bowels, as he unloaded into the condom.

Benji squeezed my waist and sighed. "Nice fuck you are too, boy!" He withdrew his member from my body, slipped off the condom, and left it on the side for me to deal with. He said nothing as he got dressed and I panted on the bed, so close to an orgasm myself. "That's some wet spot you made, boy!"

"Yeah," I panted and twisted my body to sit on the edge of the bed. "That was nice." He hummed, disinterested. "And my fiancée asks if I can film the next time you fuck me. She wants to see it!"

He hesitated. "Sorry, I don't film my sex. I'll see you later, kiddo." He nodded at me, gave me a brief smile and left me on the bed as a shivering, sexually frustrated wreck.