Sex in the Sky

“This story is all about gay love. If that offends your delicate sensibilities, or if it is illegal for you to view, take a hike. Characters and places are pure imagination (with a hefty dose of psychosis). Any resemblance to anyone or anything is just a coincidence. A hot coincidence. So very hot…”

*

His life was chaos and madness. How did things get so out of control? Less than two weeks. Two stinking weeks and his life went from well-ordered and structured to-

“I’m having you put in the room next to mine. It’s the most secure wing in the house.”

Of course, there were compensations.

Seb said nothing. The compensation was the main problem. Seb couldn’t think around Aurel. All he had to do was look at him, smell him, even hear him breathe and his brain turned into something resembling warm tapioca. When people were trying to make you dead this was a Very Bad Thing.

The death threat was just the tip of the iceberg too; a symptom of something more pervasive. Seb knew that Aurel was different. And Mych and his ilk were different-different. He knew this. Of course he did. A part of him dictated that he should be hauling ass, but an insidious portion of his psyche, a large one, lusted after Aurel, wanting to trust him.

But Seb couldn’t trust himself to make that decision. His body was stupid and biased. It was why he held off when Aurel kissed him. As much as he wanted to kiss back, as much as he wanted to jump the man’s bones and be jumped in return, he couldn’t. Not until he figured out what was going on. That was going to make for a very difficult stay. Cold showers. Self-restraint. More marathon masturbation sessions. It was an unappetizing prospect.

Seb wasn’t big on sadomasochism, except for the occasional spanking; maybe. That was the real reason that he didn’t want to stay. It would be self-imposed torture.

“There’s a connecting door between them, so if you need anything, I’m right there.”

Did he say torture? He meant agony.

God did he wish things were different. A nice, normal Seb, a nice, normal Aurel. A nice normal meeting, maybe a coffee shop, maybe a library. They would see each other a few times; just enough so that they wouldn’t feel like total sluts before having nice, normal, “explosive” sex and living happily ever after. No death threats. No politics. No psychic stuff. No weird fucking non-human things. Bliss.

And it would be, Seb realized with a start. It would be a blissful happily ever after. Aurel was…

“And either Ruvn or Mych will be near you at all times in case you have a problem.”

…a jerk. A big, gorgeous jerk.

Seb wasn’t into masochism, but he wasn’t into dominance either. Aurel was choc full o’ that. He took alpha male to the nth degree. Sebastian was magnanimous; he could understand where Aurel was coming from. As a little prince, a big fish, whatever you want to call it, Aurel was used to getting his own way in everything. That didn’t mean that Seb had to put up with it though.

“You’re ignoring me, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have cause to be angry. He was his own man with a double-dose of Texas ornery. If Aurel had explained things and displayed the common courtesy of asking instead of telling, his outlook might be a bit peachier. Seb wanted Aurel, but not on those terms.

“He’s ignoring you.”

Damn straight Mikey. You get a fucking cookie. Seb didn’t want to be rude, and he definitely didn’t want to come off as a

recalcitrant child, but if he opened his mouth right now he knew he couldn’t stem the tide of venom and vituperation that would spew forth. He could tear a person to shreds with disastrous results. He had even made a tenacious prospective date cry. He couldn’t see Aurel crying; in fact, the thought was laughable, but the memory of that day always made him wary of repeating his mistake. You could never un-say something. Better to keep your mouth shut.

“It’s the green room. I think you’ll like it. It was my mother’s room; her favorite color.”

It was really hard to stay mad at him when he said things like that. It really was. And his grandma was probably rolling in her grave at his lack of manners. Seb sighed and decided to be gracious. It wouldn’t kill him. He could concede the battle without losing the war. “I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“I noticed that you like green.” Aurel looked at Sebastian’s equipment case and his moss colored hiking boots. “And it matches your eyes.”

Mych gave a pained groan that Aurel didn’t react to.

Seb could be gracious all right, but he drew the line at flirting. Flirting would be bad ju-ju, flirting could make him careless. It was a hard stand to take. Aurel’s voice was like lager, like bittersweet chocolate. Everything sounded vulgar in that accent. Vulgar and awesome. Flirting with that voice would be a quick start down a slippery slope.

Slippery.

Gak.

“Are you all right?” Aurel looked concerned and Mych sneered slightly as Seb choked a bit, which just made it worse. Seb’s coughing fit was beginning to ease as-

“He’s just being a baby.”

Sebastian’s head whipped up, bugged eyes meeting Mych’s gaze in shock. They studied each other for a moment before Mych wiped his face slate-clean. Seb had heard what Mych was thinking, and Mych knew it. Seb also knew that Mych didn’t like it. Not at all. The knowledge made him slightly nauseous.

Aurel, luckily, had missed the brief exchange, but Seb knew it was only a matter of time before Mych gave him the low down.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He didn’t like where this was going. He didn’t like the idea of listening in on people’s mental static and he definitely didn’t like the crafty look that Mych had.

“I’m…fine,” Sebastian said. Mych just raised a supercilious eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure? You sound odd.” Oh, Mych was definitely like a cat with cream now.

“Just something in my throat.”

Aurel was quick to help, offering Seb a drink.

“No, I’m fine. I can’t drink it anyway. I have a bad caffeine allergy.”

“No coffee? No tea?” Aurel looked both intrigued and slightly horrified.

“None.”

Mych leaned over and offered him some water. He still had the same sick-making smile, and Seb was wary. Seb knew that look. That was an I’m-gonna-nail-your-ass-to-a-wall look, and not in a sexy, squishy way, either.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

Even Aurel, who had eyes and ears for very little other than Sebastian at the moment, caught the tense undercurrents teasing the car’s occupants. He didn’t comment on it, but made a note to discuss it later. He had more pressing issues.

Aurel was at a loose end. Now that he had Seb, he didn’t know what to do with him. He knew what he wanted to do with him, in theory anyway, but the way Seb was acting made that highly unlikely. Aurel hadn’t considered the ramifications of his recent actions, a more common a state of affairs than he would like at the moment. All he knew was that Sebastian was threatened and he had to keep Seb safe.

It was just too bad that Seb didn’t feel the same way.

Aurel knew that he had been heavy handed with his demands. He had practically kidnapped Seb; but he wasn’t penitent. He didn’t regret it at all. He would protect Sebastian’s life with his own, even if Seb ended up resenting him because of it.

He was such a beautiful man. He was staring out the window now, a slight sour look to his face. Aurel almost reached out to smooth the frown lines away, to reassure himself that Seb was real, to soothe, but caught himself just in time. Time was what Seb had asked for, and he hadn’t wanted to push.

Not only had Aurel pushed; he had really put his foot in it. The least he could do was give Seb his space. He could tone down his physical demands, even though his body was practically screaming with Sebastian’s nearness. This stay would be a gauntlet of unfulfilled desire.

“Sebastian.”

Sebastian looked at him questioningly, but Aurel didn’t know what he was going to say. He wanted Seb to smile at him again, needed it like an opiate addict craved the poppy. He didn’t want the slightly hysterical smile from earlier, but one of the genuine smiles from last night. He didn’t think it would happen any time soon.

The blank look on Seb’s face was painful to look at; more so because he was the one responsible for it. It was a brutal catch twenty-two. The only thing that mattered more than Sebastian’s happiness was his safety, but one had to be sacrificed for the other.

“I want you to enjoy staying with me. I know that this isn’t what either of us wanted, not this way; but I would love having you as my guest. No pressure.” Aurel tentatively took Seb’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He was buoyant when Seb gave him a small squeeze back. “I know I’ve done nothing but apologize since we’ve met, but again, I’m sorry. Not for having you guarded, and not for taking you with me now. I’m sorry that I acted like a cave man, and I’m sorry that I’m not…”

“Not what?”

“Normal. You deserve that.”

Aurel didn’t understand the soft, almost sarcastic laugh that Seb gave, or the bitter look he sent Mych. “What’s normal?”

“This.” Aurel tightened his grip on Seb’s hand. “Us. Right now.”

Seb gave a soft snort. “I don’t know how many relationships you’ve been in, but this is definitely outside of my scope of normal.”

“Is that a bad thing, or a good thing?”

“It’s a scary thing.”

“You’re scared of me?” The thought disturbed Aurel, and he started to withdraw before Seb yanked his hand back.

“No. Not of you, not really. It’s more abstract than that.”

“So you’re capable of abstract thought?”

Seb narrowed his eyes at Mych, but let it slide. For now.

“We’ve only known each other for a few days, Aurel.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I don’t just…” Seb lowered his voice to a whisper. Sure, Mych could still hear, but he made the attempt at privacy all the same. “I don’t hop into bed with just anyone. I know almost nothing about you.”

“I already said that I would-”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying.” Seb took a deep, steady breath. “For some reason, I want to. Jump into bed I mean.” Seb leaned his head back and screwed his eyes shut. “I can’t believe I just told you that. Talk about making yourself vulnerable. That’s what’s scaring me. I’ve never felt this way before, not about anybody, let alone a complete stranger. It’s driving me insane.”

Could a heart burst from a desire almost attained? Aurel thought it might.

“I’m not myself. I don’t have any control. The old me would have never laid himself on the line like this.” His laugh was devoid of humor. “I hope you aren’t just looking to get laid. I’d feel real stupid.”

“No. Oh, no. Please. It’s not like that.”

Sebastian opened his eyes and lolled his head to the side, looking at Aurel. “Then what is it?”

Aurel would love to tell him. He hadn’t thought about how the mating instinct would affect Sebastian, and felt like an inconsiderate fool. Aurel had grown up hearing stories about it, had even witnessed it firsthand, coveted it for himself, but Seb had nothing to compare it to. And nothing that Aurel knew of human sexuality equaled the intensity of a mating. Seb’s traitorous body must be a major cause of alarm and Aurel wasn’t sure how to put him at ease. All he could do was try.

“I don’t know, but it is the same for me.”

“God, I hope so. I’d hate to be the only one.”

“You are in no danger of that.” He wanted to add ‘not ever again’, but sensed that would be too much too soon.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good.”

“I mean it. I’m an American. If you fuck me over I’ll do what we do best.”

“Shoot me?”

“Nah. Call my lawyer.”

And there it was. It was a small smile, just a slight curling of the corners of Seb’s lips, but it was there. Aurel gave an all over body sigh of gratitude. Maybe things would work out for the best.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Seb admonished.

“I won’t.”

“I’m not a pushover. Things are far from being resolved, you know that, don’t you? I’m just too tired to deal with it all right now. ”

“Of course.”

“I’m still really pissed at you.”

“Understandable.”

“Understandable? Is that all you have to say about it?”

“Yes Dear.”

Seb couldn’t help himself; he laughed. Aurel’s martyred sigh had been a melodramatic, prolonged affair. The laugh hurt, but that didn’t surprise him; even his hair hurt.

Seb’s laugh enveloped Aurel in a warm, comfy sun. They were almost home. Funny, that. It had never seemed like home before.

***

The car had barely come to a standstill before Mych hopped out, taking note of his men and his surroundings. After a moment, Sebastian emerged, followed by Aurel, a protective palm pressed to the small of Seb’s back. Both of them could feel the way it tingled.

Sebastian was quickly introduced and given priority. A few of the men looked uncomfortable, yet said nothing. They hustled inside; the property was protected, but it didn’t afford the safety of the house.

Sebastian found himself caught up in a current, directed by a cadre of uniformed men. Hot men. He’d seen porn that started like this, and was worried for a moment until he looked over his shoulder to see Aurel’s reassuring smile. Worried! Over the fact that he might get his dick spontaneously sucked by someone other than-

Sigh.

Sebastian noticed a distinct lessening of psychic traffic and knew that Mych had told them to can it. He would throw a fit if he knew that he was inadvertently doing Seb a favor. The men did speak, but it only involved general safety issues and the details of his stay. Sebastian just hoped that he wasn’t being shown the oubliette.

“Aurel.”

They turned around to look at Mych, who had paused.

“I need to speak with you.” Mych looked pointedly at Seb. “Alone.”

Aurel hesitated. He looked to Sebastian to gauge his reaction and was surprised by what he saw. Resignation. Regret. Sadness. Aurel didn’t want to leave him, even for a moment. “I can talk to him later if you want me to show you to your room.”

“No. You should talk to him. No sense in putting off the inevitable.”

“I won’t be long. They’ll take good care of you in the meantime.” Aurel turned toward the guards. “Show him to his room and make sure he has everything he needs.”

Seb nodded and gave Aurel the same sad look as before, but this time, it almost seemed like a goodbye. It bothered Aurel, but before he could make to follow, he felt Mych’s hand on his arm, urging him into a small salon.

When they were alone, Aurel gave into the exasperation he felt. “I hope this is important.”

“It is. Just promise to hear me out.”

Aurel didn’t say anything, just nodded at Mych to continue.

“This could be a set up.”

If Mych was expecting a reaction, he was disappointed.

“A Trojan horse. What better way to gain entrée to your house than faking an attempt on his life?” Mych went on, warming to his theme. “I don’t believe in coincidence. Other, more powerful of our number have fallen, yet he conveniently survives at just the right moment for inserting himself into your household?” Mych snorted in disbelief. “Pull the other one.”

Aurel only raised an eyebrow. “I trust that’s everything?”

“No,” Mych said, then felt triumphant when he caught the small, prescient flicker of unease in Aurel’s eyes. “He’s psychic.”

“We already knew that.”

“Not like this, we didn’t. He knew what I was projecting to you in the car. Word for word, he knew it. Even most of us can’t access something on that kind of private path. He’s not just inside our sanctuary; he’s inside our heads.”

Aurel tensed briefly, then turned. Mych felt bad about it, but Aurel meant more to him than anything else on the planet. Emotional hurt would fade; physical hurt could be all too permanent. They couldn’t afford to trust an outsider. Aurel knew that.

Aurel walked to the door, opening it and talking to the man there briefly before turning back to Mych and surprising him with his calm, cool demeanor, not the anger or suspicion he had imagined.

“Mychael.”

His full name. This couldn’t be good. Mych had a curious inkling that things were not going the way he had intended. The look being leveled at him was totally serious; in dead earnest. Frosty.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Aurel left him there, completely gob-smacked and at a loss for words.

***

Aurel knocked on Seb’s door lightly and received no answer.

“Are you sure he’s in there?”

“Yes sir. We showed him around, gave him some clothes and toiletries, then he waved us out. Said he had a headache.”

“You don’t have to call me sir. I’m not that formal. Do you think he’s asleep yet?”

“No si- I mean…Mr.-”

“Aurel.”

“Aurel. He’s probably awake. It’s only been a few minutes.”

“Good.” Aurel was about to go in, then paused, looking at the man before him. “What’s your name?”

“Josef.”

Josef was cute, stocky and solid, with very Magyar features. He was also young. Too young.”Josef, how old are you? And who assigned you here?” Aurel was beginning to get angry. “You haven’t been here long, have you?” Just how many refugees was he housing now? He would have to ask Mych.

“Sir, I mean Aurel. I’m twenty-two. I’ve only been here a few weeks. Ruvn thought I would-”

“Where is Ruvn?”

“He’s putting together a few things for Mr. Fell’s security.”

“Why isn’t he here? He could have delegated the detail work to someone else. I can’t trust this to an inexperienced…kid.”

Josef furrowed his brows with worry. “I’m young, but I’m not inexperienced. I was given specialized training within my tribe. Mychael, he knows me from before, he’ll tell you.”

“A Protector?” It was a loose translation.

Josef looked surprised, then pleased. “Yes. Fourth generation. It runs in the family.” With the mention of family, his smile faltered and died. “I’ve been here three weeks. Thank you. I would have been dead two weeks ago if you hadn’t given me sanctuary.”

Aurel knew better than to show the pity he felt. “Their loss is my gain. Having a Protector here will ease my mind greatly.” And it would. Protectors were…fanatics.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know. Tell Ruvn that I want to see him when he is through. We need to discuss this. Am I still keyed for access?”

“Yes, and only a few others have clearance. Everyone else will have to be accompanied, even the cleaning staff.”

“Good.” Aurel knocked once more then let himself in. “Josef. See that we aren’t disturbed.”

“Ok.”

Aurel saw Josef blush, and that made him blush, even though he knew they were just going to talk. Damnation. This homo- no, “gay”, thing was awkward.

The room was just as he remembered it. Aurel rarely entered it, but had ordered it to be presentable at all times. The memories here were bittersweet and sometimes too poignant, but it seemed the perfect choice for Seb. It was appropriate that this room sheltered two people that he loved.

It was several shades of cool green layered one on top of the other. There wasn’t an overabundance of ornamentation or extravagance, but the fabrics were rich and soft and inviting. The bed was a simple teak canopy affair; chinoiserie, like the rest of the room, but everything was understated, unlike the usual flights of fancy from the period.

The chairs were all too delicate for Aurel to chance, so he approached the bed cautiously before sitting on the edge. Sebastian barely looked up when Aurel’s weight dipped the mattress. Aurel had thought Seb was hunched over, brooding, but no. He was playing a game on his phone. Aurel couldn’t tell if he was pouting or just concentrating on destroying pixels with other pixels.

“How did your conversation with Mych go?” Aurel hated the defeat laced with anger in Seb’s voice; didn’t he understand that it could not matter less?

“Fine.”

Sebastian looked at him then, and would have managed to disguise sharply assessing as casual conversation if Aurel hadn’t known better. “So, what did you talk about?” The game self-destructed and reset, forgotten between them.

A choked grunt escaped Steve as he felt the point of no return pass and a moment later he couldn’t stop himself and came, feeling himself spill his load into that slick sucking mouth. He felt his spurts quickly subsiding, and he stepped back panting, Pete still sucking out the last drops as his cock slipped from his mouth with one last tickle of pleasure. He watched Pete, still on his knees between his legs as he tasted then swallowed his spunk.

Steve shuffled back, his trousers still around his ankles, catching his breath. The foreman handed Steve a Regal from behind his ear with a particularly satisfied grin, glancing at his softening cock. He turned to Pete, scowled and barked “Right then tha little cock sucking bastard, lets get thee sorted!” Steve was going to suggest returning the favour, but sensed that Bill had other ideas for his ‘initiation’ “Come on you stupid little wanker, get stripped down yer fucking bollocks!” he ordered.

Pete got up and did as instructed without hesitation, tugging off his work clothes and boots. Steve enjoyed watching him strip as he tucked his spent cock back into his shorts and jeans. Pete soon had his kit off, leaving Steve to admire him naked especially his hard cock, sticking out in front of him as rigid as a fireplace poker. He was slim but fit, with a strong young body and a long circumcised cock, impressive for a lad of eighteen, surrounded by a curly halo of gingery blond hairs.

He was breathing deeply; his cheerful young faced flushed with sexual excitement, bollock naked but for an earring in his left lobe “Start wanking yersen off then, tha dozy arsehole!” Bill shouted. Pete unselfconsciously took hold of his cock and started to wank quickly, beating his meat and moaning, rushing to bring his climax as ordered. The foreman and Steve watched the lad taking his pleasure for an enjoyable couple of minutes standing just in front of him, before Bill cuffed Pete sharply around the ears again, knocking him off his stroke.

“For fuck’s sake, do it properly lad!” he barked, roughly pushing him back. “Sorry mate…” Pete began, but Bill quickly cut him off. “Turn thesen ’round tha stupid cunt.” Bill nodded at Steve and nodded to the pile of stuff in the corner. “Fetch us that length o’ rope mate” he grunted. Steve, curious as to what he was up to, found it and passed it to the foreman, watching him as he tied Pete’s hands firmly behind his back with the short length of thick, greasy rope, eagerly waiting for whatever he was going to do next. He yanked the end of the rope to make sure it was firm, and pushed Pete back round to face him, a nervous expression crossing the lad’s face. The foreman kicked his legs wider apart with his boots and spat a big gob into the palm of his hand. He carefully spat out another gob to dribble down onto the tip of Pete’s twitching cock and gripped him tightly in his lubricated fist.

He started to wank him off, slipping him in out of his fist, with rapid, brutal upstrokes slapping his hand against Pete’s balls, with slower down strokes. “That’ s how tha should do it!” Bill advised, still rubbing. Pete was moaning softly, his hips thrusting forward against the foreman’s tight rubbing fist, desperate to come, his cock steadily oozing precum to add to the spit. Steve watched, listening to the squelches as Bill rubbed. Just before he made him come, Bill stopped, letting his hand go. “Oh, God…” Pete gasped, looking into Bill’s eyes, silently pleading. Bill just grinned back at him with an evil leer. “Your go Steve.” he offered, “Don’t let ‘im empty his balls though. He aint earned it just yet.”

Steve was really getting into this, fucking about with a couple of builders. For no reason he could explain, he felt a slight sense of guilt, and a nagging fear they’d get caught but the situation was such a turn on he just couldn’t help himself. They’d got this young builder naked, hard and under control. They could do what they liked with him. Steve’s prick was pushing against his jeans again as he took Bill’s pace in front of Pete and enthusiastically got started on the lad.

He’d wanked men off before, but never like this, in complete control of the situation, with someone else watching, able to take his time. Steve slowly began stroking Pete’s smooth, hot cock, still wet with Bill’s spit, slowing down when appeared near to coming, using his hand to tease, trying to keep him moaning and twitching. He was still tempted to get down his knees and use his mouth as Pete had done for him, wanting to taste that eager young cock, but kept to Bill’s instructions. Pete was groaning steadily, as Steve continued to slowly wank him, getting him progressively more aroused, his cock still oozing precum. Steve left his cock alone for a moment ran his hand over his flat stomach; ruffled his gingery pubes then stroked up the insides of his thighs. Steve began to gently prod and tease his tight balls, with his fingers, rolling his bollocks in his palm before squeezing them firmly, enjoying the damp feeling of his scrotum.

“Shit!” Pete moaned, closing his eyes as Steve’s hand returned to his rigid cock. Steve could feel Pete’s heavy breaths against him, standing just in front of him as he continued to stimulate him. Pete let out a particularly long moan and a few shudders started to rock his body, his arse cheeks tensing up as an orgasm began.

“Don’t you fucking dare come yet!” Bill shouted at him angrily, “Or I’ll take thee outside and kick the fucking shit out of thee before sticking tha P45 right up tha useless fucking arse!” Pete swallowed with genuine fear at the threat, gritting his teeth to painfully hold back the building surge between his legs. Panting with frustration, he managed, though a few pearly beads of semen formed at the tip of his twitching cock.

Bill took over, shouldering Steve aside, stepping into place and used his thick fingers to teasingly smear the drops down Pete’s prick, slowly running his rough digit down the thick vein on the underside of his prick. They locked eyes with each other, Pete trying to hold back and Bill using his fingers to force his orgasm with his probing digit. Still staring angrily into Pete’s eyes to gauge if he was going to come, the foreman licked his big index finger and reached between Pete’s legs, slipping his digit past his balls and crouching a little to reach further forward.

Bill then abruptly pushed his way upwards into the crack between Pete’s spread legs and shoved his thick wet finger straight up his tight young arse. He winced slightly with the painful intrusion before Bill prodded his finger deeper into his arsehole, banging into his prostate. “Aghh! Fuck!” whimpered Pete as the sensation triggered a response from deep inside him, rippling all the way through his loins. His legs buckled slightly and a few more drops of his semen escaped his cock as he concentrated with every ounce of will power he had to stem the urge to let himself go.

“Not yet! Not tell I bloody well say!” Bill shouted angrily as Pete shuddered again. Bill waited for a moment until he was sure Pete had got himself under control, then stepped out of the way, and grunted at Steve. “Come on then Steve lad, see if tha can keep this little bugger going a bit longer.” Steve stepped back up to Pete looking him in the eye. Pete nodded he was ready for more, and then Steve reached for his cock again.

The drops of semen dripped down his shaft, trickled over his balls and left a series of wet splashes on the dirty floor between his feet. Steve licked his fingers, tightly circled a thumb and forefinger round the lad’s prick and began slipping the tight fleshy hole up and down his shaft. After a minute or two, at Bill’s suggestion Steve took off his orange hard hat to use on Pete’s throbbing cock. Steve began rubbing the smooth shiny dome of plastic on the underside of his prick, watching him flinch slightly at its cold feel.

He rapidly guided his hard hat back and forth against his erection until Pete started to shudder and buckle at the knees again, moaning with torturous pleasure, semen oozing. Pete’s cock was now as hard as any Steve had seen, inflated even larger, the skin tight and shiny, the ridge of the head with its circumcision scar like rock against his fingers. One slight touch was all he would need to bring him off. “Oh, please fellas, that’s enough, let me cum” he begged, his whole body twitching with excitement and frustration, his wrists straining in the rope behind his back, sweat running from his armpits. “Tha’s not had enough yet!” scoffed Bill “What you fink Steve?”

“Dunno” Steve shrugged, breaking into a broad smile, enjoying himself too much to want to stop. The lad was just managing to stop himself ejaculating where he stood, his eyes glazed and his cock pointing at the ceiling.

“Come on,” Bill prompted, “Tha’d better start beggin’ fer It.,” he growled with relish. Pete didn’t hesitate, his pride swallowed by the burning need of his cock. “Please Billy, sorry, I mean Mister Wilson, please bring us off. Come on mate, lerrus shoot me load, me balls are killing me, I need to cum…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bill interrupted, giving him another crack around the ears, eyeing him contemptuously before brushing his hand over the tip of Pete’s prick, the feathery touch bringing another small dribble and a tortured gasp of excitement from Pete. “Right then, tha useless little cunt, I reckon tha’s’ had enough. But the next time tha tips cement all over the bloody site I’ll fucking bury thee in it!” he shouted.

Bill suddenly grabbed Pete by his swollen bollocks, and gave him a good painful squeeze while he spat into his hand again. He took hold of Pete, gripping him by the left shoulder to hold him steady while grasping his prick in his slimy right hand. The foreman brutally wanked him like before, slipping his tight wet fist quickly up and down the lads’ throbbing cock. Half a dozen rough wanking strokes was all it took until Pete finally climaxed, crying out loudly, a series of final shudders rocking his stout young frame. His hips pushed powerfully forward into Bill’s fist, as copious spurts of thick white spunk began to spurt from his dick, bulging in the foreman’s grasp. Moaning noisily, Pete was still ejaculating in Bills hand, wet silvery ropes spurting out, before subsiding to a few last dribbles. Steve was impressed. He’d rarely seen so much spunk from one orgasm before, never expecting so much from a young lad like Pete. Pete finally groaned deeply with satisfaction, still sweating, but his tense body slowly relaxed, his cock deflating. “Thanks” he gasped with heartfelt relief as Bill relaxed his hold on his deflating cock and released his grip on his shoulder. Bill wiped his hand over Pete’s chest, grimacing with disgust, cleaning the lad’s spunk off his hand.

Bill had shifted his stout body sideways to avoid Pete’s spurts, but glancing down to stamp the wet evidence into dirt, he noticed a thick glob dribbling down the steel toecap of his right boot. With an angry snarl he pushed Pete, his hands still tied, down on his knees again. “Tha’s made this fucking mess so tha can fucking clean up after thesen” he commanded. Pete looked confused. “Use yer fucking tongue dickhead!” Bill clarified. With slight reluctance, Pete crouched down, stuck out his tongue and began licking the foreman’s boots. He earnestly cleaned off the spunk, and lapped the grimy toecap until the leather began to shine through and swallowed a mouthful of spunk and mud with a repellent expression for the taste. “While you’re at it Steve here could do with a bit of spit and polish son” he ordered and gave Steve another crafty wink. He let Pete shuffle over on his knees and repeat the degrading task on Steve’s boots. Steve enjoyed watching him down by his feet, tied up and bollock naked and licking, feeling a charge from the power they had over him, understanding exactly what it was about this that Bill liked. Pete leaned back, from Steve finished, with muddy streaks around his mouth. Bill churned his mouth and spat a large gob of spit into Pete’s face. With his hands tied he could do nothing but let the foul glob drip down his cheeks. Steve casually pushed his boot between the kneeling lads legs and rubbed his toecap into his groin, wiping off any remaining spit and mud. Pete knelt there uncomfortable and humiliated, but making no protest about what they were doing.

“Tha’s gorra dirty face lad. Steve and me ‘ere best wash it off for thee.” Bill announced, unzipping his fly again and puling his now soft cock through the slit. With a quiet grunt, he aimed his prick at Pete and abruptly began to piss, a pungent yellow stream of urine rushing out of his fat dick, splashing against Pete’s face. Pete gave a quick yelp of surprise as the warm, smelly piss started to splash over him. The foreman’s stream continued as he directed the flow of piss over Pete’s body. Pete knelt still, steeling himself to take another humiliation. Bill hosed his shoulders and pissed against the lad’s chest, belly and thighs and between his legs. He gruffly ordered Pete to open his mouth wide. Pete complied as Bill then started to piss straight into the lads open mouth, the stream arcing straight from his cock into Pete’s waiting gob. Bill shouted at Pete to start swallowing. With a grimace he swallowed the mouth full of concentrated piss and opened up to let him fill up again. Steve was surprised at the size of Bill’s bladder. The flow showed no sign of stopping yet. Watching another man pissing made Steve feel he could use a piss himself, so stood by Bills side, and fetched out his own prick, pointing it in Pete’s direction before beginning to empty his own bladder over Pete. He listened to the steady patter of their streams of urine over him, enjoying the strong smell of ammonia from there mixing piss. He pissed all over Pete, watching it shoot from the end of his cock. When he felt his flow start to finish, he directed the last of it into his mouth as Pete struggled to gulp down the nauseating liquid. Bill’s flow started to subside at last and the two men finished, almost together, shaking the last drops off their cocks onto Pete’s bare flesh before they zipped up. Pete knelt still, dripping and wet, shaking their piss out of eyes and trying not to retch at the unpleasant taste left in his mouth. The foreman looked down at Pete with a sneer and spat one last gob into his face. Steve hocked up a gob of spit and did the same, watching Pete flinch as it hit him in the eye.

“Right then lad, you’re done,” announced Bill “I hope tha’s learned tha fucking lesson. Tha’ll not be spillin’ concrete again; will you, you little bastard? ”

“Er, no Mister Wilson, sorry about that.” responded Pete, somewhat sheepishly, still on his knees and dripping with their spit and piss. Bill scowled at him. “Tha’d better had, ‘cos if tha does owt so fucking stupid again I’ll have thee up ‘ere once more, except next time you’ll be sucking every fucking cock on the whole fucking site!” Pete swallowed nervously at the threat. The foreman ordered him to get on his feet, and roughly pushed him round and untied his wrists. Pete rubbed his circulation back into his hands, waiting anxiously for the next order from his foreman. Bill chucked him a grubby rag from one of the crates to dry off with and at last told him he could get dressed. Five minutes later he was still filthy with his work gear back on and strongly smelling of their piss. Bill poked about the room to make sure there was no evidence of their activities left behind. The puddle of cold piss on the floor would be dry by morning. “Right lad, tha can fuck off. Get yersen ‘ome for a shower, I can smell this ‘ere lorry driver’s piss on thee from a mile off.” he told Pete. Bill fixed him with a final glare as Pete was edging towards the door. “Make sure tha keeps this to yersen and don’t be late in t’ fucking morning!” he cautioned, grinning malevolently at him. He opened the door to get off and clean himself up properly as advised. “Yeah, Mister Wilson, err, thanks for that. See you isn’t mornin’.” he gave Steve a respectful nod. “See you around then!” With that he turned and stomped off to find the stairs. Steve had a last look at his arse as he turned, round and firm beneath his trousers and half hoped that he would see him again. He could think of better things than a P45 to stick up that particular builder’s arse.

Steve followed Bill out of the offices, his head buzzing with the charge he’d got out of the unexpected session. Nonetheless, the experience had left him feeling slightly uncomfortable, and he was looking nervously around to make sure no one had seen. Despite a faint pang of guilt, he wanted more. He definitely wanted to do this again sometime. The foreman explained he occasionally gave some of the new lads this sort of ‘initiation’ after they’d started “to show them who was boss.” He obviously had a pretty enviable ability to suss out which lads would be up for it and keep quiet about what was going on. After all, Steve supposed, he’d sussed himself out from the start, despite his macho lorry driver image.

They walked out the building, Bill locking the doors behind him, toward the car park opposite, empty but for a dirty white Transit van, earnestly puffing on a tab. He got to the van and ground out his dog end with his boot. Steve suddenly found he didn’t want to let him go. He wanted to get his hands on Bill’s cock and found he was mildly envious of Pete. He wouldn’t mind Bill giving him that sort of treatment himself, on his knees in front of the big, hairy attractive brute, doing every humiliating thing he was ordered. Macho lorry driver or not, he thought about suggesting a night back at the truckers’ rest together, but could just see Bill scoffing the suggestion aside straight off. But he wasn’t going to let him go without trying his luck. He was coming back to Barnsley the following evening, so how could he say no to a quick fuck, no strings attached? “You got anyone in need of sorting out tomorrow night?” he chanced. Bill grinned wickedly: He’d been waiting for the question. Christ, the bastard had certainly got Steve sussed out! “Thought Tha’d be asking’ that.” he chuckled, “but tha’s out o’ luck mate. Pete’s on an early shift. So’s rest o’ lads likely t’ be interested.” Steve couldn’t make out whether he was telling the truth or not, or whether he was deliberately pushing him into a corner. If he wanted him, he was going to make him ask for it. It would have to be at his suggestion, and Bill would make him beg for it if he could. That’s what turned him on. Professionally and sexually, he was a man used to being in charge. Bill gave him an evil leer as he waited for him to respond. “Well I’ll be back down this way after I’ve been to Newcastle tomorrow, and I don’t mind someone showing me whose boss once in a while if there’s no one else who needs a seeing to.” Steve waited for his response, his heart pounding, like some schoolboy with a crush.

The foreman stuck his hands on his hips and let out a loud dirty laugh. “I fucking knew it mate. Tha can’t wait to get thesen a taste of cock can tha?” He already knew the answer to that one as much as Steve did. “I’ll see thee ‘ere t’ morrow neet, then ’bout six. There’s security guards patrolling at night, but they dunt show ’till eight” Without another word he climbed into the Trannie and drove off. Steve found his way back to the lorry, tingling with excitement, and threw his hard hat on the passenger seat. It wasn’t until he climbed back into the cab that he realised he’d completely forgotten about his sodding mobile ‘phone he’d gone back for in the first place.

Part Two “Builders Bum”

Steve finally got his ‘phone back after a second trip to the offices, got parked up and checked into the hotel. He sank a couple of pints in the pub over the road, eagerly anticipating the coming evening with Bill. He got turned in almost immediately afterward, save for a quick shower. Rubbing soap all over his hairy body made him hope it would soon be Bill’s hands rather than his own doing the same, exploring his skin and every crevice of his muscular anatomy. It’d probably turn out to be nothing more than another quick wank or a blowjob, but Steve wasn’t fussed. He just wanted to get his hands, or preferably, his mouth on the stocky builder, even if it was only for five minutes. Next morning, after a restless night’s sleep and a good breakfast he checked out of the hotel long before dawn and got the diesel tanks topped up and headed for Newcastle. He’d skipped his usual morning wank in anticipation of his session with Bill that night. Ruth ‘phoned at 8am complaining that she couldn’t get hold of him the former afternoon. “Yeah, I was, erm, busy with something” Steve tried to explain. Ruth knew automatically he’d been up to something he didn’t want her knowing about. “Oh yes, what sort of something? Probably a young attractive hitchhiker knowing you. Hope you didn’t catch your dick in your flies.” Steve could feel himself blushing already, even the tips of ears turning red. Ruth explained his run for the morning had been sorted out. He could get his drivers’ sheet printed off at the Newcastle depot. He loaded up in Newcastle and spent a long dragging day lugging a refrigerated trailer of frozen packet food on a multi-drop route around Tyneside.