Voodoo Chariot Ch. 01

VOODOO CHARIOT (Chapter 1)

All it took was a simple, small deviation from my normal routine that finally forced me to face up to a simmering passion that I had always held deep inside me. A passion that I had never allowed myself to fully express or act upon, yet I always sensed it bubbling away deep within my inner-being. It just needed the right circumstance for it to rise and overwhelm my self-control.

The deviation occurred on a grey, overcast Saturday afternoon. Raindrops falling with increasing intensity chased me into the Hare and Hounds pub as I walked back to my apartment from the store. A cautious move applauded by prudence, I thought, as suddenly the heavens opened, and the rain fell hard and heavy upon the town. It wasn't long before rainwater began to run down the hill alongside the pavement gutters.

"Hi there, what can I get you?", asked the barman.

Shaking the rain from my hair I turned to the bartender and said, "An umbrella would be good. Somewhat unwisely I came out without a coat."

"The only umbrellas I have are those for cocktails, and I doubt they would suffice. It's really lashing it down out there!" He advised.

"Indeed, it is." I agreed. "I'll have, erm, a Bacardi and Coke with ice in a tall glass, please. Uh, plenty of ice, thanks."

"Sure thing." He said and turned and grabbed a highball glass from off the shelf behind him and set about his task in making my drink.

I turned and looked around the pub which was basically one large rectangular room with one long bar. It was tastefully decorated and sectioned off in 3 ways by different floor coverings. The door I had come in led straight into the games room where you could shoot pool or play darts. This area had parkour flooring and a small vacant stage area where local musicians would perform. The next section had a dark navy carpet covering the middle portion of the bar and was a little worn as it was the busiest part of the pub. The third section had a plusher carpet pile with a small number of tables and chairs scattered about the place for diners, each with a small table lamp on them. Against the walls of the dining area was a long-upholstered bench seating arrangement. It was quiet. Apart from myself, there were only 2 other persons in the pub at the other end of the bar. Two Black guys who looked like they had just finished work as each had Hi-Viz yellow vests on and were engaged in conversation. The bartender returned with my drink.

"Here you go. That's £3.25." I took out my wallet and passed him a fiver. "Thanks." He said and took the money and moved over to the cash register and punched in some keys and the drawer of the register opened noisily. He returned with my change and handed it to me. Once again, I thanked him and turned to go and sit in the empty dining area, but the bartender stopped me by apologetically advising me that once they start to serve food in 45 minutes time, I'll need to find another seat away from the diners, as that area was reserved only for patrons eating. I told him I was just having this one drink and I'll be on my way home once the showers ease up.

The bartender nodded and smiled, then turned and walked over to the two Black guys at the other end of the bar, as the taller of the two was waving his empty pint glass. I carried my drink and the plastic shopping bag that contained the few essentials I had bought at the store over to the bench seating by the wall near one of the curtained windows so I could keep an eye on the rain. I passed by the two Black guys and heard one of them refuse another drink.

"Nah thanks, Lenny, gotta get 'ome ta misses. I promised to take 'er shopping."

"Yeah, no worries, Del", Lenny sighed, "Pick you up Monday morning as usual. I'm gonna have another one before I go."

"Enjoy. See you Monday morning" replied Del. Lenny nodded and handed his empty glass over to the bartender. "Same again, thanks." Del walked out the main front entrance and out into the rain.

The bartender took the glass Lenny had been drinking from and moved to one of the hand pumps and began expertly drawing on the pump. I placed my carrier bag of shopping on the seat next to me and took out my mobile phone which showed no messages, so I switched it off and placed it in my jacket pocket. While having a quick glance around the pub, it was then that I realised Lenny was surreptitiously scrutinising me.

He was tall, about six-three, and quite muscular. Large, well-defined biceps with and thick forearms and wrists with large hands attached. A clout off Lenny round the bonnet wouldn't do anyone any good, I thought to myself. He was broad of chest. Twice as broad as me easily, and a waist that looked to match. He was a bull of a man and looked quite formidable, although he had a warm and handsome clean-shaven face. I would guess that he weighed around 250lb, and he carried in his stature a confidence without swagger. He knew he had nothing to prove, and I had to admit to myself, that looking at Lenny brought a frisson of sexual curiosity to my closeted homosexual mind.

In direct contrast, next to Lenny, I would be classed as a somewhat lithe and slender white guy. To be honest, I was, all five-foot ten inch and 145lb of me. I am nearing my fortieth birthday and I'm single, and have been for the last eight years, but I look like I am in my late twenties', early thirties', having managed to retain most of my youthful attributes. I guess you could call me a maturing white twink. My dark brown hair was beginning to show a little grey, and it framed a handsome, almost feminine face. I have bright hazel eyes and a luscious mouth, and a medium masculine nose. In my youth I played a lot of football at school and in the Sunday leagues over the years, plus other sports and some martial arts, but I no longer did any of that now due to having the condition of gynecomastia which means I have stage three breasts of a teenage girl, which I hide from general noticeability by wearing polo shirts a size larger than I would normally wear. Fact is, I like them, and I massage and play with them nightly. They are perfectly shaped and firm, and I feel sexually submissive and somewhat feminine with them. They are a great aid to masturbation, and although I'm not a femboy, I have cross-dressed in the privacy of my own home. I own several shiny leather lingerie sets in which the mirror tells me I am cutely fuckable. I constantly shave all my body hair from the neck down twice a week, and I utterly love the feel of my smooth, freshly shaved skin, which I pamper with Black Musk body lotion and perfume mist.

It took a while to accept it, but I finally acknowledged to myself, that sexually, I was more into men than women even when I was with my last girlfriend. The issue was that I felt there was something about sex with women that I found disappointingly bland, and over the years, after the failure of two engagements to be married, I decided that I would not find social or sexual happiness and fulfilment with the female species.

I came to recognise that when I watched porn movies, it was looking at well-endowed alpha men that aroused me, and to which I would masturbate my seven-inch dick to. Yes, I still find women attractive, but feel more sexually attracted towards the men. When I masturbated, I would imagine myself in the woman's place. There's something about the position of face down ass up that I found very submissively appealing, and I would ejaculate profusely as I watched the man drive deep into the woman's ass, imagining it was me he was ploughing. Oh, how I wanted to be in her position, and yet I have never had sex with a man. I have fucked myself, and still do with a carefully selected black eight-inch dildo, but like porn, it feels isolated and sterile, lacking needed intimacy for full sexual enjoyment. Also, I have never placed myself in circumstances where I could meet another man for the sexual union I craved for. With me, my homosexuality is so deep within the closet that it is in the land of Narnia.

Lenny was now in conversation with the bartender, having received his drink. I looked out the window to see how the rain was doing and saw that it had eased off a little. I decided to have a smoke, and so I picked up my shopping and my drink and walked over to the bar to ask the bartender if the beer garden was open?

"Excuse me, is the beer garden open, and am I able to smoke there?" I asked, appraising Lenny with a nod and a weak smile. He just nodded and smiled back.

"Yeah, it's open, help yourself." Replied the bartender. "It's through that door there. Past the toilets and straight ahead."

"Thank you." I said appreciatively and headed for the door he had pointed out.

The beer garden was simply a large square with one side consisting of decorative wooden fencing, and two white-washed stone walls of equal height to the wooden fencing, and the pub itself closing the square. Half of the garden was turfed with short-cut grass; the other half was laid with hardcore aggregate. I counted 15 trestle tables, some circular and some rectangular, with benches and parasols, all of which were closed. Against the four walls were various plants and small bushes in large plant pots. I chose a table close to the entrance through which I had entered the garden, and as it was still lightly raining, I opened the parasol to keep the rain off.

From my plastic carrier bag, I took out my newly bought Gold Leaf tobacco pouch and Extra slim filters and rolled myself a cigarette. I lit the cigarette and took a drink of the Bacardi and coke and suddenly felt someone standing behind me at the entrance to the garden. I turned and saw that it was Lenny with his drink in hand leaning against the open door looking straight at me. He seemed to be appraising me, and for how long he had been standing there, I did not know. Music suddenly came on over the speakers positioned over the door where Lenny was standing. It was 'Riders of the Storm' by the Doors. A track I loved, along with much of the sixties and seventies music and artists.

Lenny started to walk towards me. Here we go, I thought, I wonder what's on his mind.

"Good music this." The way he said it I wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement? Nevertheless, I replied with a positive affirmation.

"Yes, it is. Love the Doors. I'm a child of the sixties."

"Me too." Lenny smiled. "Say, I couldn't use some of your tobacco, could I? I need to buy some when I leave here."

"Yeah, sure, knock yourself out."

Lenny straddled the same bench I was sitting on, and I felt a perceptible lift at my end as he sat. With only a yard or so between us I noticed the large bulge at his crotch and a perceptible outline of his thick girthy cock which nestled four or five inches down his thigh underneath his work trousers. Even flaccid his dick looked to be larger than mine at full rigidity. I felt a rush of a sexual curiosity that I had to stifle and keep under control without showing any hint of interest towards him. I quickly switched my gaze away hoping he hadn't noticed me looking and took another sip from my drink. I watched as he took the Rizla papers and the tobacco and drew four skins from the Rizla pack and started licking and gluing them together. Yep, he was making a joint to the music of the Doors, with only he and I the only people in the garden. As he laid out a line of tobacco onto the cigarette papers he had just deftly patched together, he saw I was watching and gave me a sly wink and a smile, and I smiled back. He then began to rummage through his pockets, looking for something. An exaggerated worried frown appeared on his face, but soon turned to one of relief as he found what he was looking for.

"Phew. That was close. Thought I'd lost it for a second." His antics had me grinning.

He produced a small tin and opened it. From what I could see the contents looked like deep brown sand. He took a couple of large pinches of the stuff between his thumb and forefinger and sprinkled it all along the tobacco, then he closed the tin and put it back in his pocket. Next, he rolled the joint to completion and placed it in the corner of his mouth.

"Got a light?"

We both laughed and I handed him my lighter. Suddenly, the Beatles 'Come Together' came over the speakers.

"Did you put these on?" I asked. "I didn't see a jukebox."

"It's on the wall near the bar. I put a few tracks on." He said, and lit the joint, taking two long drags of it and held it in, then expelled it after a few seconds. I expected him to hand it over to me as would be normal, but he didn't, he held onto it the selfish bugger. Strangely, there was no expected smell of cannabis, more of an herbal smell than anything. Again, he took two long tokes of it, and finally offered it over to me.

"Wanna try? Wanna ride the voodoo chariot?"

"Voodoo Chariot? Sure, why not. I haven't smoked this stuff in a long while." I replied.

"You ain't never smoked this stuff, friend. It's my own recipe."

"Well, it doesn't smell like cannabis." I replied.

"Just a hint of grass," Lenny retorted, "not much, just enough to mellow things out. The rest is a secret."

I took the joint and took two long draws on it the way Lenny had done. It was like smoking an herbal and menthol cigarette. Gentle on the throat and lungs. At first, nothing seemed to be happening, I couldn't feel anything, and even though I hadn't handed out any money, I felt short-changed.

"It's not all that strong, is it?" I stated.

Lenny took the joint back and smiled again.

"Be patient, Grasshopper. All good things come to those who wait." He advised.

Then I started to sense something stirring, like a weird vibration at my feet. As this was occurring the track 'Green Grass and High Tides' by the Outlaws came on.

"Oh my! This is one hell of a track!" I exclaimed. "You certainly know your music." I could feel the flow of the vibration moving in synthesizer waves upwards to my knees and thighs, as well as in my feet.

"Feel anything yet? Lenny asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I feel like I am getting stoned from the feet up." Lenny gave me another sly smile and passed me the joint again.

"You ain't felt nothing yet."

"By the way," I said, "My names Andy." I offered him my hand as I drew on the joint.

"Lenny." He affirmed and took my hand in his large mitt and shook it. "Nice to meet you." He said with his infectious smile. He had great strength in his hand, his grip was like a vice. He shifted slightly on his seat, and I could swear his cock had extended a few more inches under his trousers. It looked huge.

"We've never met but I have seen you occasionally around town," he said, "You're a very handsome and sexy bird. You have a real nice girly ass."

At his words I was flummoxed for what to say in return. I felt flattered and not a little turned on by his attentions. I felt a flood of arousing sensations hit my groin area, and I was now vibrating from my feet to my stomach, and the vibration kept on moving upwards. I could feel my own todger starting to harden and extend, and I could feel a tingling at my anus. I could feel small, pleasant contractions moving up and down my colon in waves that had me grinding my ass involuntarily on the wooden bench, which I tried to hide from Lenny's perception. I could feel my dick straining at the material of my trousers as I was 'tight against the seam' as Ian Anderson sang in 'Velvet Green' from 'Songs from The Wood', What the hell was I smoking!

"Whatever this stuff is, it's amazing," I said, "never had sensations like this before from a joint. Feels strange and yet good."

"Like I said," Lenny replied whilst taking the joint from me, "it's my own recipe, designed for a specific effect, and I call it Voodoo Chariot. It's a blend of African plant extracts, and one other ingredient which stays a secret. You've only had a small taster."

As he sat there straddling the bench and his legs spread wide, I could clearly see that under his trousers his cock was thick, rigid, and hard, and fully engorged down the side of his inner left thigh. He wasn't even attempting to hide it. I could easily see that his dick was big, at least ten inches, and that he was displaying himself to me on purpose. As the sensations from Voodoo Chariot flowed up and down and around my body, brief flashes of images entered my mind, of me on my knees and holding and stroking Lenny's cock, of freeing it from its cloth cage and taking him fully into my mouth, while he lent over my slender girly frame, as Lenny saw it, and kneaded and caressed my clothed ass as it involuntarily gyrated around under his large hands. Then another image flashed into my mind of me naked, with my head down and my ass up high while a naked Lenny took me from behind like his bitch as he well and truly raped me. The image was so visceral and so life-like. I could feel the gravity of his whole muscular weight on top of me. His large hands reaching under and around to cup and massage my breasts, pulling me on to his thick black cock, vigorously driving his whole ten inches deep into me. I saw myself lasciviously push backwards and upwards to meet his rampant thrusts. I had a look of pure ecstasy on my face as the sounds of sex slaps echoed in the ears of my mind. The contrast between the colours of our skin adding to the whole erotic vision.

Once again, while my whole body vibrated under the effects of what I had just smoked, the image in my mind was replaced by another. Lenny had pulled out of me and turned me around and had scooped me up in an airlift. His huge thick arms under my thighs splaying my ass cheeks wide open with his strong thick fingers, my lubed glistening anus lewdly sucking at the air in anticipation of receiving his cock once again. He carried me like this for what seemed like a minute or two. His large erect Black member, all glistening and shiny, bobbed up and down brushing against my anus which sent ecstatic waves of pure pleasure through my white twink body. He held me in place as I tried to buck and impale myself on his pole, but he wouldn't allow penetration. Instead, he kissed me deeply, lovingly, and intimately. His tongue pushing into my mouth, exploring all around as my lips enclosed around his tongue. My cock was rigid, with precum oozing out onto his stomach as it rubbed up and down against his stomach. My hands caressed his large firm biceps as I revelled in the size and strength of the man as he treated me both gently and firmly as the bitch I wanted to be for him. Then I felt his large cockhead push against my anus, and I felt him enter me, and then he lifted me up off his cock and plunged me back down onto it, penetrating me fully all the way to his pendulous balls. I was moaning loudly and bucking wildly as he lifted me up and lowered me back down on to his girthy cock repeatedly, building momentum to the fucking. The slaps of our intercourse returned as his pace quickened and his breathing hastened. He was piling into me like a jackhammer, and I could feel myself reaching orgasm deep inside. Suddenly he let out a long low growl as he started to cum and flood my innards with his seed. He shuddered and drove his pelvis at me bringing me to a whole-body shattering orgasm as I came all over his stomach. I clutched at him with all my strength, bucking my hips trying to get him deeper into me. His semen felt hot and voluminous inside me as he gently cupped my ass cheeks with his hands and slowly guided me up and down on his penis. He held me in place with my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms around his neck. We kissed like lovers as we bathed in the afterglow of the sex we had both given to one another.

Then suddenly, I was brought crashing back to reality. The images in my mind fogged and faded away, and I felt the cool damp air of the beer garden. How much time had passed I couldn't tell?