Uninvited

He removed his hand from Chris' mouth, but not so he could speak. He seized hold of Chris' hair and yanked his scalp downwards so hard that he could feel a fistful of his hair separating in a clump, and when Chris opened his mouth to cry out in pain, Sean shoved half of his cock into his open mouth. Half . . . which was in itself the size of an average man's entire cock. For one terrified moment, he feared that Sean would push the other half into him, thus forcing the first half right down his throat the way he had with the drag queen in the video he'd caught him jerking off to.

Thankfully, Sean seemed content to pump the bottom five inches of his cock with his fist, but he wasn't pleased by Chris' lack of participation regarding his end. "Come on, Chrissy," he said. "This can take five minutes, or it can take two fucking hours for all I care, but I'm not leaving until you make me cum."

He meant it, too; it was taking next to no effort at all to keep him pinned down like that, and if he could sit on his chest all night long if necessary. And if he needed any more convincing, Sean upped the ante once more with a threat bordering on the unthinkable. "Either suck my cock, or I'm going to piss right down your throat . . . I swear to god I will."

Chris knew that he meant that, too. And as much as the idea of it sickened him, what choice did he have? He could scream, struggle, or even bite him, but Sean would most definitely retaliate, and he might even be willing to make up some fantasy about Chris being the aggressor, which led to whatever injury Chris managed to inflict (if any). Sadly, this wasn't the first time Chris had found himself in a similar position, with an unwanted dick shoved in his mouth and being bullied into servicing it. Though the circumstances here were drastically different, the principles remained the same. It was yet another paradox he was facing . . . the cock was already in his mouth, and there was no point dwelling on that aspect of it. The conundrum was that the way to get the unwanted cock out of his mouth was to finish the job, and as quickly as possible.

And so . . . he went to work on Sean, just as he would have with someone he actually wanted to blow.

Of course, Sean noticed the change immediately. "That's it," he moaned. "I knew you'd do it . . . I knew you'd suck my cock you little faggot."

Chris squeezed his eyes shut and began doing all the things he knew to make a man cum, things he'd learned over the course of more than twenty years of making men ejaculate with his mouth. He ran his tongue around Sean's huge mushroom head, swirling and sucking and even letting out a little moan like he was enjoying it. Normally, men liked it when he moaned that way, as though he enjoyed what he was doing even if he didn't, but it had the opposite effect on Sean, who promptly slapped him across the face with an open hand and said, "What is this, a date? Get on with it or I might change my mind about fucking you."

That was the last warning Chris needed before he did as he was told, and set his mind to making Sean cum as quickly as possible. And it worked too. First Sean began to rock back and forth slightly as he continued to jerk himself off with increasing speed, and soon that jerking motion became sporadic with pauses, signaling that his orgasm was building.

He came without making a sound, and in long hot spurts that splashed against the back of Chris' throat, nearly choking him. He began to buck like a raging bronco as he tried to get Sean off and out of him, but he remained seated on his chest, riding out his fury as he unloaded the contents of his balls into Chris' mouth. Laying on his back as he was, the only way he could get rid of all the cum being unloaded into him meant doing the one thing he really didn't want to do; he had to swallow. And he kept on swallowing until Sean's cock stopped shooting and had begun to soften in his mouth. When he was finished, he climbed off of Chris and stuffed his enormous cock back into his pants and pulled up his zipper.

"See?" he said, rubbing salt into the wound, "I knew you'd suck cock better than Jennifer. Maybe next time I'll bring along a pair of her panties for you to wear, since me and everybody in your whole fucking family knows you like to wear them."

Chapter 4

Chris spent two hours in the shower, he didn't even take off what he was wearing before he got in. When he did take them off, he threw them directly into the trash can beside the shower, knowing he'd never want to wear or see them again. But no matter how many times he stuck his fingers down his throat or brushed his teeth or drank shots of mouthwash, he couldn't get the taste of Sean's cum out of his mouth.

He spent the next day hiding out in the pool house with the blinds and curtains drawn. He didn't dare show his face, not even when Jennifer came knocking to say goodbye before leaving for another week-long trip. He neither ate nor slept, instead he laid on the sofa staring at a blank t.v. screen, wishing he had some place (ANY place) to go.

The day after Jennifer left, he ventured outside for a while and managed to eat something, but he immediately retreated back to the pool house the moment he heard Sean's car coming up the driveway. He couldn't bear the idea of seeing Sean so soon after what he'd done, and he was ashamed by how easily he'd been dominated. It was the school-yard equivalent to being held down by a bully and forced to eat a bug for his amusement, only Sean had made him swallow something much more personal and intimate than a bug. What made it even worse was afterwards . . . after Sean had left him laying there, and Chris had sat up in bed to find his panties were wet with his own cum.

He knew he hadn't enjoyed what Sean had done to him, but he often did enjoy that kind of treatment coming from guys who he liked. Obviously, his body hadn't known the difference, hadn't known how much he loathed the person manhandling him, sort of like Pavlov's dog drooling to the sound of a bell, blissfully unaware that the steak being served was rotten.

By Wednesday that week, he'd managed to put the incident out of his mind; something most straight men would never understand, being held down and forced to perform felatio to completion would surely scar them for life. But Chris was many years and hundreds of blowjobs past remembering the majority of them.

Just when he was starting to feel good about himself again, he heard strange voices coming from outside the pool house and he peeked out from behind the blinds to find two well built men in their 30's swimming in the pool, which had obviously had enough time for the Chlorine levels to drop to more normal levels. At first he assumed they were friends of Sean's, which made him instantly want nothing to do with either of them. But as the hours ticked away, there was no sign of Sean, only the two men. With the internet disconnected once again, he was forced to sit there in the dark with nothing but their muffled voices to listen to as they talked and laughed.

He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he saw they had both taken deck-chairs and turned them towards the pool house, almost as though they were waiting for a show to begin.

Chris was getting a bad feeling about the two of them, so he decided to get out of there for the afternoon, maybe he'd do some suit shopping or start looking for an apartment to rent after the new job started. After gathering his things, he exited the pool house, locking the door behind him, and attempted to walk past the two men as quickly as he could.

Both men cheered as he appeared, and then let out "Awwws'" as he walked right past them.

"Where are you going?" one of the men, a blonde, asked.

"Is this part of it?" the other man, a brown haired man, asked.

That stopped Chris in his tracks and he slowly turned to face them. "Part of what?"

"You know," the brown haired man said, obviously confused, "what we talked about this morning?"

"And what was that?" Chris snapped, growing annoyed. "I have no idea who you guys are, and I'm leaving." At this, both men smiled and laughed with one another, as though they were in on a joke that he wasn't privy to. "What the fuck is so funny?"

The blonde haired man said, "This morning you said that you'd say that."

"This morning?!?" Chris said, both angry and perplexed. "I've never laid eyes on either of you before!"

"He means online," the brown haired man said. "You said you would pretend not to know who we were, and you also told us to give you these . . . "

Chris turned to see the man dangling a pair of purple lace panties from one finger. "What are those?"

"We got them from inside, like you told us to," he answered.

"Wait . . . you went inside the house?!?" Chris cried.

"Yeah," the man shrugged. "You told us to pick out a pair and bring them down to the pool house and . . . "

Chris ran over and snatched the panties from the man before he could finish what he was saying, and then ran towards the house with them. He bolted through the unlocked laundry room door, through the kitchen, past the living room making a sharp turn up the stairs to the second floor, and down the hall towards the master bedroom. He burst into the room and what he saw made him gasp.

The top two drawers of the dresser were open, and the contents consisting solely of Jennifer's panties and lingerie were scattered all over the room like the aftermath of a tornado. "Oh no!!" he cried out loud, his hands holding his head. He was so busy worrying about how he was going to fix it that he didn't hear the two men coming down the hall behind him.

One of them said, "Hey, are we going to do this or what?" and Chris nearly jumped out of his skin before turning around to face them.

"What did you guys do?!?" he nearly screamed at them. "You have to put everything back exactly how you found it!"

Things got even stranger then, because the two men smiled and nodded at one another knowingly.

"Just like you said this morning," the brown haired man smiled.

"That's not possible!" Chris cried. "It wasn't me you were talking to, this is all a mistake!"

"You said that you'd say that, too," the blonde haired man said, stepping inside the bedroom and closing the door behind him. "You keep saying it wasn't you we were chatting with this morning, yet you're doing and saying everything you said you would. So why don't you just drop the act and get on with it?"

This was Sean's doing, he'd set the whole thing up in another one of his fucked up paradoxes, almost like a dare. But to what end?

"Okay," Chris said reluctantly, "let's assume it was me you were talking to this morning . . . what was supposed to happen next?"

"Well," the brown haired man said, stepping closer to him, "you are supposed to put on the panties we picked out and blow us both. And in exchange we'll show you a pic of how we found everything so you can put it all back."

"Oh really?" Chris laughed, "and neither of you thought there was anything strange about all of that?"

"Not considering where we met!" Mr. Blonde-hair replied.

"And where was that?"

"You know where."

"Tell me again."

He sighed, understandably frustrated. "Blackmail . . . me . . . dot . . .com."

Now Chris understood the play. "So . . . if I put these on and blow you both, you'll show me how it was so I can put it all back. And if I don't, you'll just leave it like this?"

"That was our understanding," Mr. Brown-hair said. "Look, if you want to change any of it we're pretty flexible. Maybe we misunderstood what you wanted?"

Chris had to admit, it was a brilliant bit of fuckery on Sean's part, and neither of these men were in on it. To them, this was just a bit of fun, a bit of afternoon drama followed by what they hoped would be a decent blowjob. They were probably a couple, Chris thought, just looking to spice up their sex life a little. They had no idea of what they were in the middle of; they just wanted their cocks sucked. If Chris refused, Sean would probably tell Jennifer that he found the room this way, and the blame would instantly fall on Chris since he had no way of knowing how Jennifer normally kept her things. Did she roll her panties or fold them, or maybe they were just stuffed into the drawer at random? He had no way of knowing, and if he got it wrong . . . he was screwed.

Bye-bye to his place to stay, bye-bye to his paid internship, and bye-bye to patching things up with Jennifer after all these years.

Chris looked down at the soft purple panties he was holding, and it suddenly occurred to him that Sean had inadvertently given him a tremendous gift.

He'd been fifteen when adolescent lust had led him into his step-sister's room, and eventually into her panty drawer. Imagining how Jennifer would look (and feel) in them, and knowing he could never be with her, eventually led to him putting them on while he jerked off. And once masturbating in them lost it's magic, he'd started taking late night walks and wearing them in places that no 15 or 16 year old had any business, especially not late at night. Grown men profited greatly from his curiosity. Some were kind, and then there were those who lurked in the dark who didn't mind keeping his secret, for a price. His entire teenage sexuality was playing out in front of him like a movie . . . he was standing in Jennifer's bedroom with a pair of her panties in his hands and two men were telling him to put them on and suck their cocks . . . Sean had set the whole thing in motion to torture him out of pure hate, but he'd actually just given Chris a hard-on, and a way to have some fun at his expense. He didn't have much other choice, but he was actually a little grateful to have been put in such an awkward situation.

He faced the men and held out the panties, "Okay . . . you guys are right, I want this. I just have two things to ask before we do this . . . "

Mr. Brown-hair was about at the end of his rope; Chris could hear it in his voice as he said, "Two more things . . . in addition to all the hoops we've jumped through up till now?"

Thankfully his partner, Mr. Blonde-hair, was still willing to play along. "That's fine, what's up?"

"First," Chris answered, kicking off his shoes and dropping his shorts before peeling off his t-shirt, "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave these on while you . . . do whatever you decide to do to me, but don't ruin them. They don't belong to me."

The two men looked at one another and gave an identical tilted head shrug in agreement.

"Works for us," Mr. Brown-hair said. "And the second thing?"

Chris shook his head, "Don't leave without showing me how you found everything,"

Both men looked at one another and smiled, then Mr. Blonde-hair said, "Done."

As Chris stepped into those purple panties and tucked his cock and balls between his legs, he felt precum dripping onto his calves; and he hadn't even touched the men yet. He slowly sank to his knees and waited for the men to approach. Neither man needed any convincing; they both stripped from the waist down and produced a pair of slightly above average cocks, both shaved bare as the day they were born.

Mr. Blonde-hair reached him first, and Chris immediately took hold of his hardened cock and plunged it into his mouth. Mr. Brown-hair reached him a few seconds later, and Chris acknowledged his presence by giving him a hand-job. After a couple of minutes, he switched.

He didn't remember much that happened after that, sort of the way your mind tends to drift while you're driving and you suddenly find yourself at a familiar destination with no recollection of driving there. Except, in this case, the destination wasn't a place, it was an event, and the event was a big hot mouthful of cum. First Mr. Blonde-hair's, and then his partner's. He swallowed their cum to keep from leaving any evidence as to their presence there that day, and when it was over, Chris felt as though he was waking up from a dream, Still sitting on the floor, he wiped their cum from his chin while they pulled up their shorts.

"Well, Chrissy," Mr. Blonde-hair said, "that was fun . . . a little strange, but fun."

Both men turned to leave the bedroom and Chris scrambled to his feet, "Hey, wait a second . . . aren't you forgetting something?"

To this, both men laughed.

"What's so funny? I wasn't kidding, I have to put all this stuff back before anyone sees it!"

Mr. Blonde-hair produced his cellphone and carried it over to him, grinning from ear to ear. He turned it around and showed him a picture of the room as Chris had found it, with Jennifer's panties scattered all over the place.

"Now show me how you found it," Chris said, confused to the point of getting annoyed.

Mr. Brown-hair chuckled from across the room, "This IS how we found it."

"That's impossible!" Chris snapped. Then it occurred to him; maybe they really had found the room that way, and this was Sean's way of fucking with him yet again.

"Listen," Mr. Blonde-hair said as he joined his partner at the bedroom door, "this was fun, and we hope you and your boyfriend got what you were looking for . . ."

"He's NOT my boyfriend!" Chris protested.

Mr. Blonde-hair flapped his hand at him dismissively, as though he wasn't interested in the details, "Feel free to have us over again, but maybe next time we can do it without the games and the drama."

And with that, they left him standing there, dumbfounded, standing in a sea of his step-sister's panties.

Chapter 5

Chris has no idea of what to do next; leave the room as it was, or attempt to put all of Jennifer's panties back in the drawer without knowing how she normally kept her things. Either option had the potential of him being blamed when Jennifer returned home, but after careful deliberation he chose to do the latter, and he began scooping up her panties by the fistful and stuffing them back into the drawer. He tried not to look at the garments he was holding, but it was impossible not to. Half of him couldn't help but imagine how good she would look wearing the items, and the other half (his "girl" half) wanted to try on each and every pair himself. He could smell the fragrance she'd sprayed into her drawer, and it took him back to the moment where the trajectory of his sexuality had been irreversibly changed, so many years before.

Once he'd stuffed all of the items back into the drawer, he reached down to take off the purple pair he was wearing only to find them drenched in his own pre-cum, which had leaked from him as he serviced the two strangers. Ironic, because the exact same thing had happened the very first time he put on a pair of Jennifer's panties, and he'd had to wash them in the bathroom sink and blow them dry with a hair-dryer before returning them to her drawer. Now he'd have to do the same thing, but later; all he could focus on at that moment was getting out of her bedroom and back to the relative sanctuary of the pool house before Sean returned home and found him inside.

Chris gathered his clothing and was on his way out of the room when he noticed something poking out of the closet; an article of clothing that he recognized immediately by the color and the hem of the skirt. "No, it can't be!" he said to himself.

Sure that he was mistaken, he gently nudged the closet door open and there it was, just as he remembered it in all its glory; a blue one piece spandex cheerleader's outfit with the word "Hawks" emblazoned across the chest in bright yellow lettering.

It wasn't possible, yet there it was.

Some of his earliest adolescent sexual fantasies were born after seeing Jennifer in that outfit as she either went to or came home from practice, or an actual game where she led her squad. Still barely able to believe that she still had it after all this time, he gingerly lifted the hanger out of the closet and gazed upon the outfit. His cock suddenly got harder than it had been in months as he thought of two things: