I visited Ivan at his apartment on a regular basis. It would always start with an invitation phone call from him, when he was horny. Sometimes I was busy and said ‘no.’ I had that much control, but when I was in his company he was definitely the one in charge.

It had been half a year since that first night when Ivan had taken advantage of my drunken state. By now, I had no problem with the arrangement. I’d been guilty after the first night. And sore. I wanted to forget it. I was embarrassed that I’d done sex stuff with a man. If any of my friends found out I’d die.

But I couldn’t forget. And I began thinking about how some of it had been quite nice. Slowly, over a few weeks, I started to wonder if I’d enjoy another round with him. It became a regular jerk-off fantasy. But my shame stopped me from contacting him and I thought that was the end of it.

Then, one evening, I happened to run into him by chance. I was sober this time and we chatted and he somehow got me to admit that I might be interested in playing a second time. He took me to his apartment and patiently helped me overcome my inhibitions. I experienced an evening of intense sexual pleasure in his hands and I learned a lot about myself.

I discovered a combination: I find my ass is very sensitive and I get highly aroused when I am touched there and, emotionally, I like to be somewhat submissive. Once I got over the taboo of homosexual acts, that combination made me ripe for Ivan to take full control.

Now that I’d had practice, I loved feeling my ass being stretched by his hard member and enjoyed how I made him cum by pushing back against his thrusts or straddling him and grinding down onto his erection. One position he most enjoyed was with him on his back. I would slide myself down onto his cock facing away from him. That way I could reach down and fondle his balls as I rocked myself up and down on his cock. It was his idea to do that so I knew he liked it. He told me it was so he could look at my sexy bottom, which thrilled me.

Whenever we went at it that way and I stroked and gently squeezed his balls while he fucked me, he would cum very hard. His hands would reach out to grasp the crook of my hips and he would buck himself hard upwards against the cheeks of my ass. His cock went deep as he came inside me. I loved how it felt. It was clear that he never allowed himself to be penetrated. He wasn’t afraid to touch my cock. He’d play with it and stroke it and suck me off but when it was time for fucking he was the one on top. Except when I was on top ... riding his big cock. I didn’t care. In a straight relationship I was more assertive, but as time passed with Ivan I found myself more and more subservient. At 42, Ivan was more than twice my age. So I naturally tended to obey his guidance.

He asked me to dress a certain way for him. Short cut-offs and tiny underwear. He asked me to grow my hair and he made me shave what little pubic and body that hair I had. Even under my arms. I was totally smooth for him now. It made me self-conscious to be with girls, though. How could I explain why I was completely shaven? So I didn’t date girls once I started shaving for Ivan.

One evening he called me and invited me over. When the phone rang I was masturbating, thinking about getting fucked and thinking about taking his cock into my mouth and how it felt when he would take mine in his fist and jerk it fast and rough until I came. I had been at home alone and hadn’t seen him for over a week. Our understanding was that he always instigated our sessions. I could only say yes or no when he phoned. After all he was the top. I’d been getting impatient, waiting for his call. Wanting to get fucked. So I was for sure available, as soon as he wanted me.

He said I should make myself clean and smooth and come over when I was ready. I went straight to the bathroom. After those first couple of encounters, I always cleansed myself inernally before a night with Ivan. He’d made it clear that was expected. Then I stepped into the shower.

After I washed myself completely, I took my razor and started on my armpits. Lathering up the left one, I then took the razor to it and in a few strokes made it as smooth as silk. The right one I needed more care because I am right handed but soon it was the same. Then I started on my pubes. I took the lavender soap Ivan had given me and rubbed it directly against the slight stubble that had grown above and around my penis and on my balls. Then, taking my cock in my hand to keep it out of the way, I started making razor strokes upwards from the root to the point where no hair grew. Soon my belly was devoid of any trace of hair. Then I took care of the area at the top inside of my thighs. Leaving only my balls to shave. By now - as always happens - my cock was hard as a rock and standing straight out. I was proud of how big my erect penis looked without pubic hair around it. I stroked myself briefly but I wanted to save my cum for later. Gently stretching the skin of my scrotum I carefully shaved away the small amount of regrowth. The soapy slickness of my cock and balls let me feel where I had missed a couple of spots and once I had them done I was ready. Completely shaved or naturally hairless all over my body. When I turned off the shower, the water on my smooth skin dribbled downwards like rain on a window. I toweled myself dry and dressed as I knew he would like me.

My underwear was from a catalog of lingerie for men. A silky jockstrap that enclosed and constricted my cock and balls. By the position that the material enfolded my genitals, they felt exaggerated and prominent; lifted and pushed forward. Nothing at all covered my ass. It made me feel sexy and a little feminine. Which was fine, since I was going to be fucked like a girl before long. I slipped on a pair of shorts over the silky briefs and a t-shirt above. That was all I needed, it was a warm evening in the city.

After a short cab ride from my apartment I was soon being buzzed up. I was surprised, when he let me in, to find that he had a guest. He introduced us. The visitor’s name was Martin. Then Ivan excused himself and left the room. Martin was an older gentlemen. Notably older than Ivan, too. I guessed him to be mid-fifties. He said “so you’re the young man I’ve been hearing so much about”. I was shocked. This was the first time anyone else had been there and I sure as hell hadn’t told anyone what I’d been getting up to. I guess Ivan had been telling tales. I excused myself and went into the kitchen. “What the hell?” I said and he told me he had been talking about me with this new man and saying how good it was to fuck me and Martin had invited himself over to see what the big deal was. Ivan asked me ... no ... told me to please be nice to him. “How nice?” I asked. But I already knew the answer.

“You’ll find him a gentle and considerate lover, if you let him,” Ivan told me. The implication being that Ivan had experienced this. “But you don’t like that,” I said. “It depends on the circumstances.” There was a twinkle in Ivan’s eye. A revelation to me: Ivan was not always a top. Martin (for one) had fucked him. He put a beer in my hand and said I should bring it out to ‘our’ guest.

Martin looked up as I entered the room with his beer and I took it over to where he was sitting. As I stood next to the side table and placed the bottle down, I felt his hand touch the back of my bare leg. “Silky smooth ... I like it” he said. I straightened up but I didn’t move away. That was all the invitation he needed. His hand slid up my thigh and reached the cleft at the base of my ass cheek. I felt his fingers slip up inside the hem of my shorts. “Come and sit on my lap, baby,” he said. I did as I was told. So far my experience of sex with men had been one person. That person was now drifting quietly into the room and watching as his acquaintance started to make love to me.

I didn’t know how to feel. Ivan and I had been together for a while. I hadn’t thought about being his ‘boyfriend’ or he mine but, somehow, felt this was something of a betrayal. Also, when it had just been me and Ivan, it didn’t make me gay. It was just a thing we were doing. Just us. Just getting off. Even though I did recognize that I was becoming more effeminate as time passed. And now it was changing. I was being seen by Ivan and now by Martin as a homosexual boy. A toyboy for their pleasure. I had to begin to accept that they were right. After all, the prospect of being with a different man was very arousing.

The old man’s hands were both on me by now. One stroking gently between my thighs as I sat there on his lap, the other caressing the bare skin of my back as his hand had found its way under my t-shirt. He fidgeted in his seat and it was clear that he had an erection. What was also clear to him was that I did too. He touched my package through the fabric of my shorts and looked up at me and smiled. “I think you would be more comfortable without those clothes, sweetie” he said.