"He's there again," I muttered under my breath, a familiar knot tightening in my stomach. Through the gaps in the temporary fencing surrounding the construction site, I spotted him. The same man, perched on the upturned bucket he always used, just outside the perimeter. As usual, a cigarette dangled from his lips, a thin plume of smoke curling lazily upwards. He was perpetually clad in a faded orange hi-vis vest, orange trousers and a yellow hard hat, both looking increasingly grimy with each passing day. His arms always bare showing off his muscles and his tattoos, both arms covered from wrist to shoulder.
I walked past him, my pace slightly quicker than usual, as if speed could somehow lessen his impact on me. He looked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a broad, unsettling grin spread across his face. "Nice day," he drawled, the words laced with a husky undertone that sent a shiver down my spine. I deliberately ignored him, keeping my gaze fixed straight ahead as I hurried past. I heard a low chuckle rumble in his chest, a sound that seemed to follow me as I practically sprinted the remaining distance to my flat. “Well that a first, he never speaks or smiles, just stares as I walk past, this time I even hear a moan as I walk past him as I feel his eyes staring at my butt.
Before I delve deeper into this unsettling encounter, let me provide a little context. My name is Nick, and I'm eighteen years old. I'd like to think I'm relatively easy on the eyes. I put some effort into maintaining a decent physique; not bulging with muscles, but certainly not scrawny either. My hair is naturally blond, and I keep it styled in a slightly spiky fashion, hoping it adds a bit of much-needed height to my frame. I’m only five foot four, a fact that has been a source of constant irritation. I always imagined I'd have a late growth spurt, a sudden surge that would finally push me over the average height, but alas, it never materialised.
I moved into my flat a few months ago, a small but perfectly serviceable studio apartment situated just a few blocks from campus. The only real downside, and it's a significant one in my book, is that my daily route to and from my place forces me to pass the building site. And, without fail, this same guy is sitting there every single day, always smoking, always wearing his increasingly dilapidated Hi-Viz gear.
There's something about him, an aura, a subtle menace perhaps, that sets my teeth on edge. It's not overt, nothing I can quite put my finger on, but it's undeniably there. Since I have no choice but to walk past him to get to my flat, I've mostly tried to ignore him, to pretend he doesn't exist. But today marked a departure from the norm. Today, he spoke. And the sound of his voice, the sheer audacity of his greeting, completely threw me off balance.
"What is it about this guy? Why does he seem to intimidate me so much?" I said aloud, the words echoing in the sudden quiet of my small flat. I closed the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief to be safely inside. Yes, I am gay, and while I appreciate a good-looking man, I certainly don't find him attractive. He’s just… grimy. A filthy labourer, through and through. Besides, I'm still diligently studying for my bachelor’s degree. I aspire for a future that extends far beyond the realm of construction sites and questionable characters in orange vests.
Trying to banish the unsettling image of his grin from my mind, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I had an essay due next week, and procrastination wouldn't get it written. I pulled up my laptop, opened the relevant files, and tried, with limited success, to immerse myself in the world of academic discourse. But the man, with his knowing eyes and smoky chuckle, lingered at the edge of my consciousness, a persistent, unwanted guest in my thoughts.
The essay remained untouched, a digital monument to my fractured focus. I'd given up hours ago, the words blurring on the screen, their meaning dissolving into the insistent image of the construction worker flitting through my mind. He was a persistent distraction, a rogue program hijacking my concentration, leaving me unable to think, to write, to do anything but replay our brief encounters.
Sleep offered no respite. The night was a restless torment of fragmented dreams, punctuated by the insistent hammering of my own pulse. “Why is this guy getting to me?” I asked the empty flat as I forced down a cereal bar, the sweetness cloying in my dry mouth, and brewed a strong coffee, the bitter aroma doing little to clear the fog in my brain. I poured it into my travel mug and practically sprinted to campus, desperate to lose myself in lectures, in the familiar routine of academic life.
But it was no use. My thoughts remained stubbornly fixed on him, a relentless loop of curiosity and something I didn't dare name. My distraction was palpable, radiating from me in waves. I couldn't focus on the professor's words, couldn't engage in the discussions. Finally, I had to escape. I gathered my belongings, offered a mumbled apology, and bolted from the lecture hall, making a beeline for home.
But home wasn't to be my destination. My feet, seemingly of their own volition, carried me towards the building site and there I stopped unable to move. He was leaning against a stack of timber, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "You're early, mate," he said, his voice a cheerful rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Couldn't concentrate on anything today," I mumbled, attempting to walk past, to regain control of my errant limbs. But I couldn't. My feet felt rooted to the spot, held captive by an invisible force. He straightened up, the movement fluid and powerful, and closed the distance between us. As soon as his hand settled on my shoulder, a surge of sensation coursed through me, unlocking my frozen limbs. But it was more than just physical. I could smell him now, a potent mix of honest muck, hard-earned sweat, and something else indefinable, something earthy and raw that both repelled and fascinated me.
"Here, sit with me." His voice was a low command, and I obeyed without question. As much as I longed for the sanctuary of my room, for the familiar comfort of my textbooks, I couldn't resist, I was unable to resist I had no idea why. I sat down beside him on another upturned bucket, feeling like a puppet on strings, every action dictated by his silent will. He offered me a cigarette, a crumpled thing pulled from a worn packet. "I don't," I said, the word a weak protest against the undeniable pull.
"Just fucking take it, mate. It'll help calm you, I can tell somethings wrong." His eyes, a startling blue against the grime on his face, held a magnetic intensity that stole my breath. I automatically reached out and took the cigarette, placing it between my lips. He flicked a lighter, the flame illuminating the rough planes of his face, and I inhaled deeply, bracing myself for the expected coughing fit. But it never came. Instead, a strange, dizzying calm washed over me, a temporary reprieve from the turmoil within. I hated myself for enjoying it, for surrendering to this unknown force.
"Better, mate?" He asked, his voice a husky murmur.
I nodded, unable to articulate the jumble of conflicting emotions raging inside me.
He inhaled his own cigarette, the end glowing red like a malevolent eye in the dim light. Then, with a surprising tenderness that belied the rough exterior, he reached out and gently cupped my face in his calloused hand. The leathery texture of his skin, etched with the stories of hard labour, was a stark contrast to the delicate curve of my cheek. "What's upset you? I can tell something is wrong." His voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder, laced with a concern that felt both genuine and disconcertingly intimate.
I carried on smoking, the nicotine doing little to calm the maelstrom brewing inside. Even though I knew deep down I shouldn't, I lied. "Nothing is wrong." The words tasted like ash in my mouth.
"Don't give me that, Nick." His grip on my face tightened just a fraction. I looked at him in complete surprise, my eyes widening. "Yes, I know your name. I know quite a lot about you. Studying for a Bachelor of Arts, well thought of, wishes he was much taller, and doesn't quite know what to make of me, a simple workie grunt." At that point, a blush crept up my neck and flooded my cheeks. The accuracy of his words, the way he saw right through my carefully constructed facade, left me feeling exposed and vulnerable.
I looked at him, still blushing, the cigarette trembling slightly between my fingers. "How do you know so much about me?" The question hung in the air, thick with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
He grinned broadly, a flash of white teeth against the backdrop of his sun-weathered face. "When you have a BA of your own, you can find out almost anything about a guy studying the same discipline."
"You've got a B.A. and you're a labourer? How come?" My mind struggled to reconcile the image of this man, with his rough-hewn hands and earthy scent, with the idea of a scholarly intellectual.
"Like you, I loved studying, a real bookworm." He took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face like a ghostly halo. "By the time I got my B.A., I was finding it difficult to get a job. No job without experience, no experience without a job... money became tight. I thought I could work labouring for up to a year, get some money behind me, and then find a job using my skills. But something happened that stopped all that." He paused, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "I started filling out, finding that I had muscles that I never knew I had. I became more confident in myself. So, I decided to stay a labourer. Now, I fucking love it." He punctuated this with a satisfied sigh, the smoke escaping his lips in a lazy plume.
"Are you serious?" I asked, a mixture of disbelief and fascination swirling inside me.
"Deadly." He then pulled me closer, his grip surprisingly strong. His lips brushed against mine, a tantalising whisper of a touch. Then, in a move that sent a jolt of electricity through me, he exhaled a plume of smoke directly into my mouth. I was stunned, paralysed, unable to resist the invasion. It was a blatant act of dominance, a claiming. I could do nothing but inhale his smoke, the acrid taste burning its way into my lungs, into my very being. It was a shared breath, a strange and intimate communion.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, disoriented, utterly lost. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "I don't understand any of this," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. I looked at him with a confusion that mirrored the chaos in my soul.
"What is there to understand, Nick?" He grinned, a flash of white against the dirt on his face, a devilish glint in his eyes. "I want you. You're a right sexy lad, just my type, well, almost." He tugged me closer, wrapping his arms around me in a possessive embrace. He kissed me again, a long, deep, searing snog that erased all thought, all reason. His lips were rough and demanding, yet surprisingly tender. We were oblivious to the world around us, lost in the dizzying vortex of our sudden, unexpected connection, uncaring that we were in full view of the street, that people were passing by, their faces a blur in the periphery of our stolen moment. The air crackled with a forbidden energy, a reckless abandon that both terrified and thrilled me.
He pulled back, still grinning, his chest heaving slightly. "I fancy you, every time you walk past I see your huge bubble butt encased in those super tight jeans, gives me a right nob on. I have to have a wank." He grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch. Through the fabric of his Hi-Viz, I could feel his cock, hard and throbbing. And yes, it felt quite big. I also felt a piercing, what was probably a silver ring.
"I'd better go," I managed to choke out, my voice barely audible. I scrambled up from the bucket, my legs shaky beneath me, and ran towards my flat.
"See you tomorrow!" He shouted after me as I fled, his voice laced with amusement.
I slammed the front door shut and bolted it, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was having a panic attack, and I hadn’t had one of those since grammar school. My breath came in ragged gasps. I fumbled for a paper bag and inhaled slowly, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest, until eventually, the suffocating feeling subsided.
I sat on the bed and crashed. Exhaustion washed over me, a heavy, numbing wave, even though it was only early afternoon. My dreams were full of him: his tattoos snaking across his arms, his piercings glinting in the light, his earthy aroma clinging to my skin. When I woke, it was after midnight. I got out of bed and made myself something to eat, my stomach rumbling with hunger. It was then that I realised I had shot my load in my jeans and the cum had dried, leaving a stiff, embarrassing stain. "Really? I am eighteen for goodness sake. How the hell have I shot my load?"
For the first time in what seemed ages, I actually smiled. The realisation that I had climaxed thinking about him, about his touch, his kiss, sent a strange thrill through me. "My cock must like him. But do I really want a workie? A smelly, filthy, tattooed, intelligent workie?" I got my simple meal together, stripped off my clothes, and went into the shower. The hot water cascaded over my skin, but my thoughts were again occupied with him. My cock rose to full hardness, throbbing with a persistent ache. I wanted to rub one out, but I managed not to, I don’t know why. A strange sense of anticipation held me back.
Having showered, I went and ate my meal, not realising that I hadn't bothered to dress. The cool air against my skin felt strangely liberating. As I ate my simple meal, I decided a couple of things: I was going to finish that essay after I finished my food, and secondly, I was going to stop and chat on my way home the following day. This time, I wouldn’t run. I would face whatever this strange, unsettling attraction was head-on.
With renewed vigour and fuelled by caffeine with a hint of simmering anticipation, I got on with the essay and finally finished it at about six AM. Happy with the result, I showered again. This time, I paid particular attention to my appearance, choosing my jeans and tee carefully, making sure the jeans were the tightest I owned and the tee was short enough to give maximum exposure to my ass. I wanted to make an impression. I wanted him to notice me.
I practically bounced towards campus, a giddy anticipation bubbling inside me. My thoughts were a kaleidoscope of excitement, a stark contrast to my usual studious demeanor. A couple of my casual acquaintances noticed the change, their eyebrows raised in question. "What's gotten into you?" one asked, commenting on my unusual energy. I simply shrugged off their curiosity with a wide, knowing smile. I was on a mission, a secret agenda that fuelled my every step.
Normally, at the end of the day, I'd beeline for the library, my intention to bury myself in textbooks for a solid hour or two. But today, the thought of musty books and silent study halls felt like a prison. I craved something else, someone else. A few of the other self-proclaimed nerds were genuinely shocked when I declined their usual library invitation. "Got somewhere else to be," I mumbled, already halfway out the door, leaving them staring after me with bewildered expressions.
My destination? My "workie." The mere thought sent a delicious shiver of anticipation tracing its way down my spine. This was going to be… interesting, I mused, a mischievous grin playing on my lips.
I realised I was practically skipping, so I consciously slowed my pace, trying to project an air of casual nonchalance. I rounded the corner, my eyes scanning the area near my flat. My heart skipped a beat. “He isn’t there.” I could see his bucket and another next to that, beacons of his presence, but he was absent. What do I do now? The question echoed in my mind. Do I stop and wait, a picture of pathetic eagerness? Or do I carry on as if nothing is amiss? As I drew closer, I spotted a packet of cigarettes and a lighter perched precariously on the rim of one of the buckets. I wasn't much of a smoker, but somehow, I knew this was an invitation, a dare wrapped in nicotine.
With a forced casualness, I strolled over to the bucket and perched on it, my fingers fidgeting as I picked up the lighter and the pack. I extracted a cigarette, its white cylinder feeling foreign in my hand. I hesitated for a moment, a battle waging between my aversion to smoking and the magnetic pull of the unspoken invitation. Eventually, I plucked up my courage, brought the cigarette to my lips, and flicked the lighter. The flame flared, and I tentatively inhaled, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs.
I sat there, smoking in silence, the initial harshness of the tobacco slowly giving way to a strange, almost pleasant, buzz. I noticed, surprisingly, that I didn't cough. In fact, I was starting to enjoy the ritual, the rebellious act of defiance against my usual good-boy behaviour. A hand landed on my shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I turned and saw him sitting beside me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I'm glad you stopped. I hoped you might," he said, his grin broad, his Hi-Viz gear seemingly even dirtier than I remembered. I stood, the cigarette forgotten, and, not caring if anyone was watching, pulled him into a long, deep kiss.
"Well, that was nice," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes. This time, he initiated the kiss, pulling me closer and deepening it, his tongue exploring the depths of my mouth with a possessive urgency. "What made you come back?"
Heat flooded my cheeks, a crimson tide of embarrassment and unbridled desire. "I can't stop thinking about you," I blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush. "You're so different from anyone I've ever met, let alone been attracted to. My cock gets hard just thinking about you."
He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin, and pulled me even closer. "So my dirty Hi-Viz, my sweat, and my unwashed appearance don't bother you anymore?" I shook my head vehemently. He shrugged off his Hi-Viz jacket, revealing the taut muscles of his chest, dusted with a light sheen of sweat. He raised one arm over his head, exposing his armpit, and with the other, pulled me towards him, pressing my face into the crook of his arm. "Fucking get licking, my pit." I hesitated for only a moment, but deep down, I knew this was what I wanted, what I craved. I inhaled deeply, the potent aroma filling my nostrils, and started licking his armpit, my tongue tracing the contours of his skin. My cock throbbed even harder within the confines of my super-tight jeans. "Fucking great job, Nick."
I quickly moved to the other pit and began to work there, my movements becoming more confident, more assured. Even though I had never done this before, it felt strangely natural, as if I had been waiting for this moment my entire life. The taste on my tongue was intoxicating, an intoxicating blend of sweat, musk, and raw masculinity. I knew, with a certainty that resonated deep within my soul, that I would never get enough. I felt him tug sharply on my hair, a surprisingly rough gesture, and I instinctively moved back to avoid the pain. "Want more of my filth, Nick?" I nodded eagerly, unable to speak. "Good," he growled, his eyes burning with a primal intensity. He took me by the hand and led me towards one of the temporary construction huts that surrounded the site.
When we got inside, he pushed me roughly against the door and, after securing the lock, forcefully shoved me to my knees. He fumbled with the clasp of his filthy orange Hi-Viz trousers, revealing a jockstrap that, I guessed, was once white but now bore the stains of countless days of hard labour. It reeked of piss and cum, a pungent, overwhelming odour that both repulsed and aroused me. He grabbed my head and pulled it towards the pouch of the jockstrap. "Inhale, Nick. Take a deep lungful."
I did as he commanded, inhaling the intense stink deep into my system. A shudder ripped through my body, violent and uncontrollable, and I shot a load of cum into my painfully tight jeans. "You've just come, haven't you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yes," I said, looking up, a blush creeping up my neck.
"Don't get embarrassed, Nick. Embrace it. Now get my cock out of the jockstrap and suck it."
I hesitantly moved the pouch aside and freed his erection. It was thick and heavy, throbbing with barely restrained power. A silver piercing glinted at the tip. I tentatively touched it. "Doesn't that hurt?"
"No," he laughed, a deep, guttural sound. "The lads love it when I fuck 'em with it." I looked up at him, a mixture of fear and fascination swirling within me, and then down again, my gaze fixed on his cock. I took it into my mouth, tentatively at first, and then with growing confidence. Surprise. I had expected his cock to be as dirty as the rest of him, but it was surprisingly clean, the skin smooth and glistening, with no trace of smegma beneath the head. "You expected it to be dirty, didn't you?" With a mouthful of hard cock, I was unable to speak, so I simply moaned in response, as I began to suck with increasing enthusiasm. "Ha, got you."
He settled into the rhythm of my sucking, his body tensing with pleasure. "So nice, Nick. Somehow, I knew you'd be an expert cock sucker." He grabbed hold of my head, his fingers digging into my scalp, and started face-fucking me, his thrusts becoming increasingly aggressive. I stopped actively sucking and allowed him to use me as he wished, my body responding instinctively to his primal dominance. I felt his cock plunge deeper with each thrust, my throat stretching to accommodate his size. I was experienced enough at cock-sucking to know that his cock was going all the way down my throat. I relaxed as much as I could, surrendering completely to the experience. Suddenly, his cock slipped even further down my throat, and he groaned. "Fuck yeah!" He left his cock lodged deep within my throat for a moment or two before fucking my throat even harder. He let out a loud, guttural moan as he rammed as deep as he could, unloading his cum in a searing, pulsating rush.
"Fucking hell, Nick, that was amazing," he gasped, pulling out his now limp cock. "Thank you for letting me use you hard. You okay?"
"Yes," I said, my voice hoarse, my throat aching. "I loved it too. Never been used that hard before."
He pulled me into a tender kiss, his earlier ferocity replaced by a surprising gentleness. "Good. Now, I've got to get back before I'm missed."
"If you know so much about me, want to come over when you finish work?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "I want to know how you fuck and find out more about my filthy workie."
He grinned broadly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I'll be there at about 7 o'clock," he said as he straightened his clothes, his movements quick and efficient. We exited the hut, emerging back into the daylight. I went home, my body buzzing with a mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion, and he went back to work, leaving me to dream of the coming night.
I got home and I found that I was unable to settle to anything whether it be studying, watching television or cooking. I felt excited but I was unable to understand why I was excited, this wasn’t the first man I’d had sex with, but he was the first man who smelt of sweat, who smoked and was so fucking horny to look at. I took off my hoodie and a packet of cigarettes and a lighter fell out, “he must have put them there, I must find out his name after all he knows mine.” I took one out of the packet and lit up, inhaling the smoke deep into my lungs “mmmm that’s better.” As I sat there, I wondered what I should wear for tonight.
I ran into my bedroom and looked through everything I owned “nothing is shouting out ‘wear me’ I thought, maybe naked will do but I dismissed that idea. I went into the lounge and stubbed out the cigarette and suddenly remembered some running shorts I had, I bought them on the premise that I was going to take up running but like most of the ideas I had, I did nothing about it.
I found them at the bottom of a drawer, I stripped naked and pulled them on ‘tighter than I remember’ I thought but as I looked in the mirror I thought they looked good, I found the tracksuit top in the same material and put that on over my tee, I smiled and stripped off the tracksuit top and tee and put the tracksuit over my bare chest and zipped it slightly. “Okay I’m not muscled like him, but yeah, I like it.” and I went into the lounge and lit up again.
7 o’clock took an age to come but come it did and as if he were waiting at exactly at 7 o'clock I heard a knock on the front door. I opened the door and he was standing there, a huge grin across his face, he had changed out of his Hi-Viz and was wearing what looked like slightly see through PVC trackie bottoms cut tight and a matching jacket. “Wow” I said looking at him and stepping back.
He came in pushed me against the door and snogged me deeply. We managed to close the door, he pulled me into the lounge and sat on the chair pulling me down onto his lap “You look good yourself.” His grin broad. “I was going to shower before coming over here but I remembered how much you like my sweat.” I kissed him deeply.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Being going to the wrong places then ain’t yer.”
“Obviously, I wish I had the courage to speak to you that first day I saw you, I’ve missed so much.
“You can make up for lost time then, start by licking my pits, loads more sweat for you to lick.” He took off his PVC tracksuit top and put his arms behind his head, I smelled the sweat straight away, I dove into one armpit and started licking his sweat away taking it into my own body, my cock which was hard had started leaking, as I felt my leg getting wet. “Who’s a horny boy then?” I didn’t want to let go of his armpit, so I just moaned.
I moved to his other armpit when I had all the sweat I was going to get, and when I finished getting everything from there, I sat back grinning broadly. “I never knew armpits were so fucking tasty.”
He pulled me into a long hot kiss “Plenty more sweat for you later, my cock and balls for one and my ass the other.”
“Okay” I said unsure about his ass.
He must have sensed my apprehension “Well see how you feel later.” I nodded. I want to get you into some used Hi-Viz gear of mine, see what you think of it.”
“Does it smell of you?” I asked knowing I was getting embarrassed.
He pulled me to him and kissed me “yes it does.” He laughed and I went red. “are you telling me you only want to try it if it belongs to me?” again I nodded. He stood and held out his hand, I took it standing up. He led me to what was my bedroom. He started taking off my clothes, I wasn’t wearing much only my shorts and matching track top.
He stood back when I was naked and looked me up and down “nice, very nice, are you naturally hairless or do you shave?”
“Virtually hairless, I shave what little I do have.”
“Good, keep it that way, just for me, I love that you are hairless.” I smiled as he took off his PVC outfit, like me he wasn’t wearing anything else, both our cocks were steel hard needing attention.
“Has anyone told you that you are stunning?”
“Well you are it is what drew me to you.” He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me to him, he pushed his tongue down my throat, forcing it deep. I could feel my cock leaking, I was loving the forcefulness he was using, again something lacking from any previous encounters.
“You are so turned on aren’t you?”
“Yes I am, that is what you do to me, it isn’t just one thing it is the entire package, the muscles, the Hi-Viz, the domination, everything.” He pulled me into a long hot kiss. “please fuck me, I need you to breed me.”
“That Nick, will be a pleasure, I can’t wait to get inside that huge bubble butt.” He pulled me up and pulled off my running shorts, he immediately turned me round and bent me over the bed, I felt him pull my ass cheeks apart and then his stubbled face against my hole, his tongue found my hole, he pushed and my ass opened and he pushed his tongue inside. “Oh fuck yes” I moaned out “That feels so good, the stubble against my ass feels so fucking horny.”
I was so relaxed I didn’t feel him move up the bed until I felt his hot breath on my neck. “You taste nice Nick.” I felt the piercing against my ass cheeks, he pushed and I felt the piercing enter me, he didn’t stop, inch by inch went inside me, although I was very relaxed I felt each and every inch enter me tight ass, I wasn’t a virgin by any stretch, but his huge cock was filling me entirely. “Nearly there Nick, you nearly have everything and it feels so fucking good.”
I then felt his trimmed pubes against the cheeks of my ass and knew I had everything, “That feels so good” I said dreamily “never taken so much before.”
“I can tell you are so fucking tight.” He pulled me head round and kissed me “If I start to fuck I will come and I want to enjoy my first fuck with you.” He kissed me again “Hopefully this won’t be the only time you allow me inside you Nick.”
“I think I’ll always want you inside me from now on, I’ve never felt anything so” I stopped talking and my cock exploded cum “fuck” I said after calming down a little “I’ve never shot my load like that before. You’ve literally fucked the cum out of me.”
He laughed but didn’t let up on his fucking, he slowly got harder and harder with the fucking, my cock I soon realised was still steel hard despite shooting a load off minutes ago. “You are such a horny boy Nick; I am so glad you eventually stopped and chatted.” He kissed me again. “Now I am going to fuck you so hard, you will not sit down for a week” he laughed and literally rammed in and out using all his strength, it hurt a little for wow it felt do fucking good to be used like that. With a loud yell, he pushed as deep as he could and I felt him unload.
He fell on my back and lay against me coming down from the mammoth cum.
“That was amazing Nick, one of the best ever.”
He pulled out and turned me over and snogged me deeply. He lay back on the bed son I lay my head on his chest.
I woke up hearing my name “Nick, I need a piss.” I moaned and moved off his chest and he disappeared to the toilet. “I’m famished” he said when he got back.
“I’ll do the dinner” I jumped up and made my way to the tiny kitchen, he pulled me back into his arms and kissed me. Releasing me I started on dinner for the two of us.
I didn’t get very far when I felt him behind me, his hand caressed my ass, I moaned loving the attention. “I do love you ass Nick, so big and luscious” he pulled my head round and kissed me, then I felt his hand start to probe, he found my entry point and I automatically bent to give him better access. “You’d let me too wouldn’t you?”
“Too fucking right I would, but you need to stop if we are going to eat.”
“Humph boring” and he stormed off but I did hear a titter from him which made me smile.
About 45 minutes later I told him it was ready, he came running and pulled me into along hot kiss. “Sit down will you.” He grinned and sat down, I realised he was naked and his cock was steel hard.
I stared at it “you’re drooling Nick.” I used my hand and wiped it away.
“Don’t be, I like the fact that you are horny for me.” We started on the food “mmmm, this is good Nick.”
“There aren’t many 18-year-olds that can cook a decent meal.”
“There aren’t many 18-year-olds that have a naked hunk sitting at his dinner table with a hard on.” We both laughed and got on with dinner.
A bit later when we had finished, he got up and cleared the plates. “You know I don’t even know your name, we’ve exchanged bodily fluids and I don’t even know who you are, apart from you have a B.A. and are a dirty workie.”
He turned round from the sink and picked me up off the chair “call me a dirty workie will you Nick.” He was trying to sound angry but I could tell he didn’t really mean it. He pulled me into a kiss, our tongues probing each other’s mouths. “Jack” he said when we parted.
“I like it, Jack, yeah it suit you.” I knelt on the floor as his cock was still hard, I noticed him dripping a little pre-cum, I took the head into my mouth, he moaned and I took him deeper until it was at the back of my throat, I swallowed and it slid all the way down.
“Oh yes.” And he grabbed my head and started to face fuck me. He was getting a bit forceful for me but I endured the pain as I could tell he was loving it, soon however the pain disappeared and replaced with pleasure, pleasure that flowed through to my cock which shot its load.
Jack, groaned and pushed everything as deep as it would go and unloaded down my throat and into my stomach, I didn’t even get the chance to savour the salty tang his cum had.
“Sorry” he said when he pulled his cock out of my mouth “I was a bit forceful”
“Don’t be, although initially I was in pain it soon turned to sheer pleasure, never been used that hard but it was wonderful.”
“I like you more and more Nick.” I grinned and leant forwards and lifted his arm and licked, I had quickly come to like his musk and due to the sex we had, his musk was strong again. I moved to his other arm when there was no more musk to be had.
“Now Nick, I need to make a move, got to get home tonight, but can I come over after work tomorrow night, we can go for a beer or three.”
“Of course, love to, I was hoping you’d want to stay tonight, I want more of that cock deep inside my ass.”
“Sorry, but I really do need to go, I’ll see you when you are on your way home tomorrow and I’ll be here shortly after seven tomorrow night.”
I pulled him into a long hot kiss “you do thing to me that nobody has ever done before, and I want more of it.”
“Excellent. See you tomorrow.” We kissed and he quickly dressed in his gear and left. I decided to do something that I have never done before I picked up the smokes he left and went out on the small balcony, naked and I still had a hard on, I lit up and closed my eyes thinking of Jack.
I could feel my cock leaking pre-cum as I stood there “oi, oi mate” I didn’t register the voice was talking to me at first “Hey you up on the balcony” I looked down and stood there with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth was a skinhead, tight jeans, tall boots and a Fred Perry all tight showing off a nice body “what flat number are you mate?”
“Three” I shouted down without even thinking.
The next thing I knew there was a bang on the door. All sorts of things were going on in my brain, should I open it, is he going to bash my head in. “Come on mate, fucking open up.”
I shrugged my shoulders and opened the door “about fucking time mate.” He was grinning from ear to ear and I looked him up and down, he was clearly commando in his tight skin jeans and I think I saw a rather large piercing at the end of his cock. I closed the door and he roughly pushed me against the door “never fucking keep a skinhead waiting boy.” He said angrily and then kissed me pushing his tongue into my mouth as if he were exploring. I relaxed immediately and my cock which had gone down slightly rose again to full hardness.
He moved back and smiled “get on your fucking knees boy and clean my boots with your tongue, they are a bit dusty and in need of a boys tongue. I must have hesitated as he grabbed my cock and pulled me down to the floor, I was hurting but for some reason I was turned on. I got to work wondering if I was doing it correctly “not bad boy, but use your tongue a bit harder, I need to feel you through the leather.” I did as I was told and worked harder.
I was working his boots for what seemed ages but eventually he stopped me “good job for a first-time boy, I bet it won’t be the last.” He said with a grin “now you can have your reward.” He hauled out his cock from his tight jeans, he did indeed have a big cock and the piercing was huge. I took it into my mouth and licked the head before taking more, I felt him at the back of my throat and was worried about taking more but he must have sensed my hesitation as he grabbed hold of my head and forced his entire cock down my throat.
“Fuck boy, nice and tight, feels fucking great, you’d make a nice skin boy for an alpha skin, you take orders well, follow direction with a little prodding, yeah, make you into a skin boy.” All the time he was using my throat hard, ramming in and out. “Need to get inside your ass boy.” He yanked his cock out of my throat and I gulped air in “you need to learn how to breath properly boy when your throat is stuffed full.” He laughed and pulled me into a snog.
He pulled me away from the door pushed me over the arm of the settee, I felt a finger enter me, then two and then three, they went in easily enough. “Nicely relaxed, good.” He spat on his fingers again and I felt the steel of his piercing at my ass, then he piledrove inside me, forcing every inch deep in my guts. The pain was excruciating but like with Jack it soon turned from complete pain to pain and pleasure, so much so I was lifting my ass of the settee to try and get more of him inside my ass.
He continued fucking me hard, using every inch to pleasure the both of us, each time his piercing rode over my prostate, shivers of excitement went through my whole body.
“Breed me sir” I said not really knowing where that came from “Get me pregnant.”
He laughed and forced all his cock inside and I felt every shot from his cock and he was cumming a hell of a lot, it felt fucking great too.
“You boy, are a fucking great screw.” I went to get up “stay where you are boy.” I stopped moving “and make sure you keep that ass clenched.” I didn’t realise I was clenching until he mentioned it. He went over to his bag and rummaged and hauled out what he said was a butt plug, I have heard of them but never really moved in circles that would have used them. He lubed it and pushed it into my ass. “There” he said patting my ass. “That’ll keep my seed deep in your ass boy.”
“Now time for something different” he went and got a kitchen chair “sit” I did as I was told, he rummaged inside his bag again and went behind me, the next thing I was being handcuffed to the chair, my legs were first and then my arms.
“What the fuck are you doing, fucking let me go.”
He slapped me round the face, it was hard and I was smarting. “All I am going to do boy is shave your head, make you look a bit more like a skin boy.”
“I don’t fucking….” He slapped my face again harder than last time.
“You boy, are having your head shaved whether you like it or not, I’ve had my instructions.” I looked at him quizzically. He ignored me totally and used a Wahl shaver to remove my hair to stubble. “First bit complete.” He went to the sink in the kitchen and got a bowl of water. He wetted my head, covered my head in shaving foam and proceeded to shave my head, he was meticulous in his task, I was sitting quietly wondering why I was allowing this ‘perhaps I am submissive to alphas’ I thought. “There you go boy, all done, just need to buff you up.” He cleaned my head again to make sure the pores were closed before rubbing my head with a towel. “I’ve done a good job on you boy.”
“Thank you sir.” I said, “I still do not understand why you’ve done this to me.”
“Don’t fret boy.” He pulled me into a long hot kiss “now I must go.” He kissed me and picked up everything and left.
I was confused, worried, concerned but most of all I was scared what everyone would think of me. I looked in the mirror at myself, I looked so different, gone was the twinkish look I had going on, I looked, well sort of mean looking, at least I thought so.
I lit up a smoke and went out on the balcony again, I was still naked and my cock was still rock hard, I thought about rubbing one out, but I wanted to stay horny and hard, especially on my balcony, I wondered where I was getting the courage to do this sort of thing, I never considered this in the past.
I finished my smoke, and it was getting late, I considered taking out the butt plug but it felt so good I decided to leave it in, I got into bed and was asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, I showered and dressed in my super tight jeans, trainers and a tight tee. I grabbed my bag and made my way to campus. I was a little worried at what everyone would think, I got to the construction site and although it was early Jack was there as if he were waiting for me. “Well look at you Nick, looking great.”
“Yeah, really. You looked hot before but now – wow.” I grinned and my face must have lit up. “I’ll see you tonight, remember we are going out for a few beers.” I nodded and stepped over not really caring who was around and pulled him into a long hot kiss.
“See you later sexy.” I said leaving him smoking.
I got to college and bumped into a few mates “What the fuck?”
“Oh” I said nonchalantly “my hair, yeah, got sick and tired of it, made a decision and shaved it all off.”
“Makes you look so different.”
“That’s the plan, if I am going to attract the men I want, I needed the image change, twinky is no good for me anymore.” And I strode off to my first lecture.
The rest of the day was similar, professors, students, everyone wanted to know why I shaved it all off, I told them all the same thing. I wasn’t shy anymore; I wasn’t going to hide what I was or what I want.
I left college at the end of the day, I thought about going to the library but dismissed it as I really didn’t need to spend the time there anyway, no now I seem to be getting a real life. I grinned mainly to myself as one of the professors stopped me in the hallway.
“Nick, can I have a word.” And I was pulled into a small office; he closed the door. “You look great Nick, I know you’ve had a lot of questions today but the change in you looks really horny.”
I smiled broadly “Thanks professor.”
“Call me Tim, anytime you want to chat come find me I will always be there for you.” I took the bull by the horns and kissed him pushing my tongue into his mouth, he responded by moaning and pulling me closer. His hand brushed over my big ass; he moaned again when he felt the butt plug.
“You are full of surprises Nick.”
“I have met someone and showing me things that I have never done before and I fucking love it, I am seeing him tonight and hopefully teach me some more.”
“Good on you Nick.” He opened the door and we parted. I made my way home stopping off at the paper shop to get some cigarettes as I seem to have smoked all the ones Jack left me.
I got to the site and was delighted when he was sitting on his bucket waiting for me, we both grinned broadly and he stood and we snogged each other deeply.
I lit two cigarettes and handed him one. “Thanks Nick, I see Jeff made a good job.”
“I thought that I was set up but couldn’t be sure.”
“Remember you’ll burn easier on the top of the head now you have a skinhead, so make sure you use sunscreen until it gets used to the sun.”
I nodded “How come you didn’t do it yourself?”
“Jeff loves shaving a new boy, makes him horny, he told me you are a good fuck and it was about time I found somebody other than a casual fuck.”
“Yeah and I bet you loved it.” Jack said laughing. “Go, I need to get back to work if I am going to see you tonight.” We kissed and I left.
I looked at the time when I got back to my flat ‘now what am I gonna do for a few hours’ I decided to strip naked and get out on the balcony, I didn’t expect anything to happen but I liked the slight danger of being seen, I lit up and realised that my cock had risen to a full hard on. I leant over the balcony watching the world go by.
I looked at the time and realised I needed to get a move on, I looked through my clothes wondering what I could wear that he hadn’t seen before ‘my wardrobe is sadly lacking’ I got out the black jeans that I know he hadn’t seen before as I had never worn this particular pair as they were a woman’s cut, I bought them on a whim, never wore them and put them away.
I pulled them on and looked in the mirror, I turned so I could look at my butt, my best feature according to Jack. I liked what I saw, I found a tee that wouldn’t hide my butt and pulled that on, happy with my choices I found my black Nike TN’s. “Good” I said looking myself in the mirror now I was fully dressed.
I went out onto the balcony again, so I could have a smoke, but time had run away with me as there was a knock on the door.
“Fuck me” I exclaimed in surprise when I opened the door.
“Yeah, I will later. Do I get to come in then.”
“Sorry Jack” I stepped back and let him pass. He dropped a holdall he was carrying “You’re a skinhead” I said in shock.
“Go to the top of the class Nick.” I looked him up and down, from his fitted Fred Perry polo showing his chest muscles to his tight skinhead jeans showing his Ample cock, to his brown boots that came to his knees. Yellow laces and yellow braces completed the outfit. “Is there a problem Nick?”
“Sorry no, you look” I hesitated slightly before continuing “fucking horny.”
“Thank fuck for that.” He grinned, came over to me and kissed me shoving his tongue deep in my throat, we tongue fought for a while before stopping. He picked up a holdall that he dropped on the way in “These are for you, I like what you are in but I want you to wear this outfit, please don’t let me down Nick” he said almost pleading. I picked up the holdall and went to the lounge, when I opened the holdall I saw it was skinhead gear. I looked at him and grinned. “You don’t mind I want you as my skin boy?”
“I’m shocked Jack but fuck no I don’t mind, if I look anywhere near as good as you I will be happy. I never thought that you were a skinhead. You are an amazing guy and I will do whatever you want, I” I stopped talking as I felt myself blushing.
“Why are you embarrassed Nick?”
“I cannot explain it Jack but I feel different when I am around you, I want you close, I want to worship you, I want to follow orders, does that make me sound unhinged?”
Jack grabbed me gently and pulled me down on the sofa so I was sitting on his lap. “I am a dominant, an alpha if you like. You just needed a real man to take charge; you seem naturally submissive and in need of a dominant man.”
“I cannot seem to get enough of you.” I leant forward and kissed him, I immediate felt his huge hard cock underneath me.
“As soon as you smelt my alpha musk you naturally wanted more, in fact I could smell your musk too, and I fucking loved it.” He said with a grin. “I’ve heard of men giving off a musk when their life partner is close but never really believed it, till now that is. When ever you get lose to me, I can smell you, and I get hard, my cock gets harder as you inch closer.”
“So you must be in pain then with me sitting on your lap?” I said cheekily.
“It’s true, I am so hard and fucking horny, it is taking a hell of a lot of restrain not to push you over and ram my cock deep inside you.” Jack pulled me into a long deep kiss “we needed to talk before we do anything else; I want you to be mine, I will do anything I choose to you and you will accept it willingly. “Won’t you boy?”
“Y, Y, Yes sir” I managed to get you stammering slightly.
“Good boy, now fucking get your gear on.” Jack pushed me off his lap and I fell to the floor with a bump.
I sat on the floor and dressed in my Fred Perry polo shirt first, when I looked at the jeans I noticed they were different to his, they had an all-round zip from front to back and it was on show. “Means I can fuck you wearing your gear.” He said with a grin.
Jack showed me how to lace my boots so they had a proper ladder lacing, the final addition were braces and as it was a nice evening, he gave me a Harrington jacket.
“Fuck Nick you look amazing, come on.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me into along deep kiss. “You are going nowhere boy that takes you away from me., do you understand?” I nodded “good.”
We left my place and we headed towards the pub, this is a gay pub Nick and one a month, they have a skinhead night. I must have looked worried. We caught the bus quickly.
The bus lurched, pulling away from the curb. I stole a glance at Jack, his face set, jaw tight. "Now don't get all worried," he'd said back at my place, his voice rough but reassuring. "Walk as if you fucking own the place. Besides, nobody will fucking touch you, they'll have to go through me first." Easier said than done, I thought, but I appreciated the sentiment.
We climbed the narrow stairs to the top deck of the bus. "Good," Jack said, settling into a seat and pulling me down beside him. "Nobody up here apart from us." He turned to me, a glint in his eye, and pulled me into a long, deep kiss. All my anxieties momentarily evaporated. I melted into him, loving the possessive attention. My hand instinctively found its way to his crotch, and I felt the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing against his jeans. Like mine, he was rock hard.
"I always am when I'm close to you," he said with a grin, and pulled me back into another, even more insistent kiss. God, he was addictive.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs broke us apart, or at least, I tried to pull away. "No, you fucking don't, boy," Jack growled, his grip tightening on my arm. He pulled me back to him, his kiss more forceful, a clear signal that he wouldn't be deterred.
"Look," a voice drawled, laced with sneering contempt. "A couple of faggots."
My stomach clenched. These weren't the suited city types who usually rode this route. These were two young chavs, tracksuits, trainers, the uniform of casual menace.
Jack, without a word, unfolded himself from the seat. He moved with a speed and purpose that surprised me. He walked over to the two lads, his broad shoulders filling the narrow aisle. "And what the fuck are you gonna do about it, eh?" he said, his voice dangerously low, the London accent thick and menacing.
The two chavs visibly recoiled, their bravado faltering. "Nothing," one of them mumbled, stepping back. "Sorry."
"So you fucking should be," Jack spat. He turned on his heel and walked back to me, a wide, almost feral grin splitting his face. He looked like a predator who'd just enjoyed a successful hunt.
He rang the bell. As we descended the stairs, he clapped me on the shoulder. "Nobody messes with a skinhead, Nick, just remember that." I nodded, my heart still hammering in my chest.
We stepped off the bus into a maze of narrow streets. The air hung thick with the smell of stale beer and something vaguely acrid. "Here we are," Jack announced, gesturing towards a nondescript doorway tucked between a kebab shop and a boarded-up laundromat.
He pushed open the door and we stepped inside. The sudden blast of noise and cigarette smoke hit me like a physical force. The pub was packed, shoulder to shoulder with men. Most were dressed like us, jeans, Doc Martens, and Harrington jackets, the uniform of the modern skinhead. But some were wearing rubber, tight, black, and undeniably fetish looking. A few others were clad in leather, the smell of it mixing with the smoke and sweat.
I was struck dumb. I'd never seen so many guys like us in one place. "There are loads of gay skins, Nick," Jack said, reading my expression. "Some wear it just for show, a bit of a laugh. But me, and now you, we wear it all the time. No exceptions, apart from my work, of course."
The sheer number of men, the intensity of the atmosphere, was overwhelming. I felt a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension. I went to the bar, fighting my way through the throng, and ordered a couple of pints of lager.
When I got back to Jack, he was deep in conversation with a guy built like a brick shithouse, with a shaved head and a spiderweb tattoo on his elbow. "Thanks, Nick," Jack said, taking the pint. "I was just telling Buster here that we've just met and are enjoying the hot sex we've had so far."
Buster raised an eyebrow and gave me a once-over. I grinned, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "Alright then," Buster said, his voice surprisingly high-pitched for such a large man. "Welcome to the club, so to speak."
"So, new to all this are you then?" Buster asked, turning back to me.
"Yeah, pretty much," I admitted. "I mean, I've always been... you know... but the skinhead thing is new."
"It's a lifestyle, mate," Buster said, taking a long swig of his beer. "It's not just about the clothes or the music. It's about being who you are, without apology."
"And the sex, of course," Jack added with a wink.
Buster chuckled. "Well, yeah, the sex is usually pretty good too." He turned to Jack. "You got yourself a good 'un here, Jack. Don't let him get away."
Jack put his arm around me, pulling me close. "Don't worry, I don't intend to."
The music started up, a raw, aggressive Oi! band blasting from the speakers. The crowd surged, bodies pressed together, sweat mingling in the smoky air. I found myself swept up in the energy, the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
As the evening wore on, I started to relax. The initial shock of the place wore off, and I began to enjoy myself. I talked to more people, hearing their stories, their experiences. I learned about the history of the skinhead subculture, the music, the politics, the fashion. I realized that it was more complex than I had ever imagined.
I also realised that being a gay skinhead wasn't as unusual as I had thought. There were plenty of others like me, men who embraced both their sexuality and their skinhead identity. It was a revelation.
Later, Jack and I found a relatively quiet corner and sat down. I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment.
"So, what do you think?" he asked, his voice soft.
"I think," I said, "that I'm starting to understand."
He kissed the top of my head. "Understand what?"
"Why you love this," I said. "Why you are who you are."
He squeezed my hand. "And do you love it?"
I looked around the packed pub, at the sweaty bodies, the flashing lights, the raw energy of the music. I looked at Jack, his face illuminated by the neon glow of a beer sign, his eyes full of warmth and affection.
"Yeah," I said. "I think I do."
The night continued, fuelled by beer and music and the intoxicating atmosphere of the pub. I danced with Jack, I talked with strangers, I lost myself in the moment.
As the pub began to empty, Jack and I made our way towards the door. The fresh night air hit me like a slap in the face. We stood on the sidewalk for a moment, breathing in the cool air.
"So," Jack said, "back to my place?"
I grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
As we walked down the street, I felt a sense of belonging that I had never felt before. I was a skinhead, and I was gay, and I was with a man who loved me for who I was. And in that moment, I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world. The smoky haze of the pub seemed to cling to us, a badge of honour, a testament to a night of discovery and acceptance. I knew this was just the beginning of a whole new chapter in my life, a chapter filled with leather, rubber, and unapologetic passion.
