This Can’t Be Happening Ch. 24

No sign of him, so I got on with the task. Just as I was hosing the bin down after scrubbing it out, he appeared at the fence.

"You can do mine when you're finished," he grinned at me. He was in his usual scruffy clothes. A white shirt that had turned long ago turned a shade of grey, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was tucked into a pair of worn out brown trousers, dirty from gardening, held up by a black leather belt. His boots had mud and dust clinging to them. He had a full head of silver hair, but it always looked greasy and unkempt.

I carried on, telling him it was bad enough doing my own. Maybe he wasn't going to mention what had happened after all. He just stood there watching me. I felt uneasy. Uncomfortable. He disappeared. Thank fuck.

I finished up and began to tidy the hose away when he reappeared walking up my garden path dragging his bin behind him. What the fuck? I really couldn't believe the cheek of him. He dumped it next to me and stood there looking me up and down, waiting.

"It ain't been cleaned for ages," he said looking directly at my crotch. "Needs good fuckin' scrub."

There was a moment where I considered what I should do. Then I just gave in and started to clean it. Maybe he'd leave me alone afterwards.

I started to regret my choice of clothing as I worked. I hadn't expected this. In my mind I'd only thought of giving him a show of rebellion. To show him that he hadn't embarrassed me and that I could wear whatever I chose. Now as he stood next to me pointing out bits I'd missed or to make sure I got right to the bottom, I could feel my shorts riding up between my cheeks. I should have worn underpants. Even worse was that fact that I was getting wet through, the cold water caused my nipples to harden beneath my vest and the flimsy nylon shorts to cling to my body.

The haste of trying to get the job done quickly was a mistake. If I'd taken my time I wouldn't be in such a mess. I should have just told him to clean his own fucking bin. Everytime I stood up I became acutely aware of how sodden my shorts were, not helped by the way he openly stared at my groin.

So far I'd managed. I hadn't got an erection and he hadn't said anything untoward. When I finally stood back to use the hose I looked down to my crotch and realised why he'd been looking so overtly. I may as well have been naked. Save for the small amount of opacity the material offered, I could clearly see my cock and balls.

In an instant I lost all composure. I felt the heat of embarrassment rise and of course the inevitable hard on forced my shorts to tent. I could have chosen to do a number of things. Tell him I'd finished or just turn away and walk indoors. Maybe try to hide my erection somehow, although it was far too late for that. However, I decided to try and take control of the situation. If he wanted to ogle me, I'd damn well put a show on for him. Maybe if he saw he couldn't embarrass me he'd leave me alone.

So I told him I was hot as I took my vest off. My nipples were so hard. Then I rolled the waistband of my shorts right down to just above my solid cock, pulling them up so they were forced between my cheeks, leaving them looking more like a thong. I bent over to pick the hose up taking longer than I should, so he had a good view of my naked buttocks. Then stood up and turned towards him. My erection was almost obscene as it strained to escape.

Yes. This felt good. Really good.

For the first time he was lost for words. Any plan he had to shame me had disappeared as his stood there on shock. I felt empowered. Especially when I did to him what he'd been doing to me and let my eyes slowly drift down to his groin. The tell tale bulge said it all. I looked him straight in the eye and smiled. It was his turn to be embarrassed now and he didn't like it.

"It's ok," he said. "It's clean enough." Then he quickly grabbed the bin and dragged it away.

I wasn't sure if I was happy or slightly disappointed as I watched him pulling his bin up towards his house. I made sure he got a good view of my arse though.

It would be a lie to say I hadn't been turned on by his attempts to shame and humiliate me. I think if it had been any other man I would have remained submissive. His tone had been so scathing the previous day though and it felt good to see him get hard in spite of his outward dislike of gay men and sissy boys.

Yes Mr Davidson had secrets too.

Feeling powerful I managed to put on a display for the postman too. This time I just sat in the armchair with my legs draped over the arms, my cheeks spread wide open and gently played with my cock as he walked by the living room window. He looked too. Then as he walked back he took another longer look. I brazenly pushed my cock forward, holding it there, showing it off to him and our eyes met. Only briefly, but long enough. Once again there was no look of disgust. I thought I saw the faintest smile.

Fuck! What a rush. I felt like a slut and I loved it. Maybe I was beginning to like the feeling of being in control of my exhibitionism.

Coach called during the afternoon and suggested I meet up with him on Sunday at the pool to talk. He said I shouldn't arrive until after training, making me feel like the decision to drop me from the club had already been made. I wasn't sure how I felt, but it did leave me feeling a little deflated.

When I got to work Phillip acted similarly to the previous evening. Cold. Indifferent. It worried me. Maybe he was just busy or preoccupied with other things. I wanted to talk to him about everything that had happened that week. Perhaps get his opinion or advice, but it seemed I might not get the chance.

He came down shortly before I was due close up and told me to pop upstairs when I was done. Perhaps I would get to speak to him after all.

I climbed the stairs and stripped off. I could see him sitting at his desk watching me as I did. I did enjoy walking towards him with an erection. I loved the way he openly stared at my cock. I stood in front of his desk and took up the display position, at the same time I saw someone sitting on the sofa. I didn't recognise him.

"Eyes forward David," Phillip said calmly but firmly.

The thought of a total stranger being there and seeing me like that caused my foreskin to roll back.

He moved from behind his desk and picked something up before wrapping it around my cock and balls. He adjusted it tightly, then I heard the snap of press studs. A cockstrap! My own cockstrap!

Before I had a chance to think he was putting a thick leather collar around my neck. My mind went into overdrive.

He sat down behind his desk. "Right David," he said. "I think you need to tell me what you've been doing this week. From what I understand, in a 24 hour period you managed to suck your best friend off no less than 4 times. Is that correct?"

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter...