Chapter 3

I arrived on time, that is to say five minutes early. I had left work a little early so as to have time for a quick shower and change of underwear. The directions to the ordinary looking suburban ranch-style home had been easy to follow. The neighborhood had a comfortable moderately prosperous middle class feel to it - typical middle American suburbia.

Jim came to the door himself when I rang. He was maybe an inch or so taller than me but certainly not heavier; his faded, well worn jeans and his tight polo did not disguise his slim athletic build. He looked every bit the marine he had once been. He had a full head of light, greying hair and his chiseled jaw was clean shaven. I judged him to be a little younger than me, probably in his mid-fifties.

“Steve,” he said, as if informing me. His direct glance pierced me as he proffered his hand. I shook it firmly, sensing his strength.

“Yes. And you must be Jim,” I said lamely, feeling a bit on my back foot already.

Jim chuckled and said, “Yes, I must be, mustn’t I?” He stepped aside. “Please come in.”

I entered a large foyer that was separated from the rest of the house by a Japanese style sliding wall panel. There were cubby-hole shelves on the opposite wall with a row of shoes of various sizes beneath.

Seeing that Jim was barefoot, I asked if I should remove my shoes. It seemed like the polite thing to do.

“Yes, along with the rest of your clothes.” Ignoring my jaw drop, he continued, “You can leave them here.” He gestured toward the shelves.

I must have been staring stupidly - I was truly flabbergasted - because he placed his hand gently on my shoulder and with an air of patient condescension, he said, “I am the only person allowed to wear clothes in my house. Except in this room, of course.”

“Well...” I stalled, “Maria wanted me to meet you. Can’t we just...”

“Sure,” he said in a patient tone, “We’ll just stay here and chat a few minutes. Then you can leave.” He looked at me impassively. “So, what do you want to talk about.”

Again I felt at a disadvantage. It dawned on me that Jim liked it that way and was making it that way. I struggled for a foothold; there had to be a way to put us on common ground. But I failed. “Well, I was hoping to see Maria,” I ventured, knowing it was futile.

Jim laughed. He looked at me appraisingly. “You know that’s not going to happen, don’t you?” he said not unkindly. “Not unless you trust me and do as you’re told.” He stood up tall and was suddenly perceptively more imposing, folding his arms across his muscular chest. “My wife has a knack for making friends, but she can’t always keep them. You can be her friend, but only if I please. That is, if you please me.”

Something in his voice and, I suppose, something in his stance and demeanor too, made me look at him differently. I took in his height, his figure, his steely blue eyes, his muscular arms, his tight, pale jeans, the hair on his naked toes, and back up his strong, denim-clad legs, until my eyes rested on the bulge in his crotch, the clear outline of a thick, circumcised cock.

I told myself that it was only because I wanted to see Maria so badly that I said, “Okay, I’ll get undressed,” but I knew at that moment that I would end up drinking from that cock of his.

“Good boy,” he said softly, unfolding his arms and patting me on the head paternally.

Feeling relieved and oddly elated, I quickly undressed, down to my disposable briefs and then, looking to Jim for guidance, I removed them too at the nod of his head.

“Don’t worry, we can handle accidents if they happen,” he assured me as he slid the panel open leading us into a spacious living room with three separate furniture groupings. I followed him toward the closest chair and sofa group on our left as Maria entered through a doorway on the right side of the room. She was naked except for a black leather collar around her neck.

“Oh, Steve, it’s so nice to see you again!” she cried happily.

“And it’s wonderful to see you!” I said, trying to sound gallant but probably coming off as purely prurient as I ogled her luscious form. Her dark brown nipples and her luxuriant glossy bush made my cock swell. I turned toward her, expecting a welcoming hug, but she stopped and looked to her husband for guidance.

“Not yet, baby,” Jim said. “I need a moment with Steve first. “Sit here,” he told me, gesturing to the large, stuffed chair.

I sat, noting that the fabric was somewhat stiff, like a glossy canvas, but comfortable nonetheless. Jim sat on a similar chair facing me.

“Maria tells me you’re a piss-drinker, is that right?” It surprised me how demeaning he made it sound.

“Um ... I drank Maria’s piss, yes.” I was suddenly embarrassed, hearing how shameful my admission must sound ... but certainly not to these people!

“No one else’s?” he asked.

“No ... well, except my own,” I replied truthfully.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” I said simply, blushing a little. Why was my cock now completely hard?

“Are you a piss-pig?” he asked with a tone of mild curiosity.

“Uh...” He had me flummoxed again. A piss-pig? I figured that would be someone obsessed with it. It sounded like a test. What was the right answer?

“I don’t know, sir,” I said, deciding that a show of humility was required. “I don’t have enough experience yet.” My straining dick made it clear that I hoped I was following in the way Jim wanted to lead me.

“I have a bladderful of alpha male piss. Do you think you can handle it?” he asked, still sounding casually conversational, although my heart was pounding to the rhythm of my pulsing cock.

“Yes please, sir,” I managed to croak without sounding overly eager; I was too conflicted for that. Is that really what I wanted? Was it just for Maria? I was beginning to think not.

Jim got up and stood before me. “Take out my cock,” he said quietly. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the naked Maria was watching us.

The butterflies in my stomach didn’t deter me. I reached for his fly, I undid the button, pulled the zipper down, and revealed a beautifully shaped cock, soft, about six inches long, thick and meaty in my hand as I grasped it to pull it free, noting its weight and girth.

“Put it in your mouth.”

I opened wide and engulfed the shapely, bulbous head, my lips closing neatly behind the flared ridge, making a nice round “O”. It felt so natural, fitting perfectly into the arched roof of my mouth and resting comfortably on my tongue.

“Look at me,” Jim said.

I looked up into his eyes. He looked down on me, gauging my reaction.

“Tell me what you want.”

I had to let his cock slip out of my mouth to answer. “May I drink your piss, please, sir?” I said, blushing. I closed my lips around his cock again and caressed his piss hole with my tongue.

“Look at me,” he said again.

I looked up to see his evident superiority; it was obvious that he was in charge and he liked it that way. I watched his face as he relaxed the flow-valve of his bladder and his piss suddenly began to stream into my mouth. His eyes were fixed on mine, watching me swallow quickly as the hot liquid filled my mouth, surging in strength and volume.

This was a new sensation, not just the power and the heat of his stream, but also the loss of control. I was helpless to prevent Jim from peeing. I could spit out his cock, I could refuse to swallow, but there was no escaping his piss. It was either going in me or on me. It was amazingly stimulating.

He peed into my mouth and I duly swallowed, gulping it down with a visceral satisfaction, proud to keep up without leaking, and proud to meet Jim’s expectations, to serve him as his urinal. The thought of the utter servility of my role made me giddy with lust. I felt like I could almost cum from the excitement I felt at guzzling his bitter, rancid piss as he looked down on me, both figuratively and physically.

“Look at me,” he repeated. In my blissful reverie, I must have closed my eyes. I opened them quickly and held his gaze until the stream of his piss finally stopped and I had consumed all he had to give. I felt a strong bond to him then, and I sucked reverently on his cock, caressing and squeezing it with my tongue as we maintained eye contact.

“Good boy,” he praised me, taking his cock from me and tapping me on the top of my head with it. “Maria was right, you’ll make a good plaything.” He put his lovely cock away. (Did I really think it ‘lovely’?) And he signaled to Maria.

“You can play with him now, my pet,” he announced as he took a seat to watch.

Maria rushed to me and I got up from my chair just in time to receive a big hug from her, our naked bodies melding together deliciously, her hard nipples and my hard cock accentuating the contact. We kissed. Knowing that she could taste her husband’s piss on my lips and tongue made my cock throb.

“Show him your ass, dear,” Jim directed.

Turning her back toward me, she bent forward, displaying her ample derriere, in the center of which sparkled a large red jewel of some kind of glassy material. It was tantalizing, drawing my eyes to her a-hole like a magnet.

“Go on, boy, get down and pull the plug,” he ordered me.

I was instantly on my knees, grasping the rim of her butt-plug and tugging, breathing the heavenly aroma of her hot pussy. My erection had not slackened in the least and was aimed obscenely toward her dripping snatch as I prised it out with a loud pop and exposed her gaping, round poop-chute.

“Lick it, boy!” Jim said with enthusiasm. “Lick her dirty hole!”

I had never licked an asshole before, but there’s always a first time. I complied with no less enthusiasm than the master of ceremonies had displayed. My lips were pressed hard against her anal ring as I thrust my tongue as deep as I could and ran it around the inside of her hot tunnel, feeling the smooth, slick texture of it and tasting the bitter-sweet spice of it.

Maria moaned with pleasure. My cock surged ecstatically and I redoubled my effort to stimulate her, trying simultaneously to thrust deeply and lap at the tightening ring that threatened to squeeze my tongue. Who knew ass-licking could be so delicious?

Jim issued another command: “Down, girl! Assume the position!”

Maria got down on her knees and elbows with her ass up and her head on the floor. This spread her ass even more invitingly, and I dove right back in to resume my feast.

But Jim stopped me. “No!” he barked, as if commanding an animal. “Mount her! I want you to breed her ass.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. I had never tried anal sex, but I having already tongue-fucked Maria’s luscious tush, I was primed and ready. I scootched up behind her, grabbed her wide hips and pressed my pre-slick cockhead into her wet, winking anus. A little more pressure popped the head through the tight, gripping ring of muscle and into the hot tunnel of her rectum. It felt amazing! With a little back-and-forth motion I inched my way into her silky tightness until I was in to the hilt. I held it there, flexing, making my cock pulse. And she responded, moaning, with answering clenches that tightened her hold on my shaft.

A moment later I was fucking hard, in and out of her, thrilling to her clinging grip when I withdrew and then slamming deep on the reciprocal stroke, gaining in speed and vigor until I exploded. I collapsed on top of her, vibrating with orgasmic tremors as my cock spewed wave after wave of my passion-fueled cum deep into her bowels.