13. Contacts
My mobile rang as we finished cleaning and treating our rubber bondage suits and the chastity belts. With the suits hanging in the bathroom, thoroughly washed and then treated with silicon wax, we’d disassembled the chastity belts and given them a though cleaning, the parts now laid out on the kitchen counter.
“Eli,” I greeted as I identified the caller. “Thanks for a great party last night.”
“We figured you’d earned it.” He paused. “Figured out our little puzzle yet?”
“You mean the keys to our suits?” I laughed. “Yeah. A couple of hours ago.”
“Good.” His chuckle, as always, sent a tingle through me, a combination of an unspoken ‘threat’ and ‘desire’ to let this powerful older man take complete control and use me sexually. “Mark’s preparing a BBQ for the evening, so make yourselves respectable and be ready at four. I’ll pick you up at the flat entrance. I’d suggest a light lunch — Mark’s BBQs are always a feast for an army.”
“Respectable?” I laughed. “I think we’ve given up on that, Eli.” I looked at Butch, naked, his gorgeous member semi-tumescent as he lounged against the kitchen counter. “But we’ll try for it … Even if we have to wear those chastity belts again.”
“That bad?” Eli laughed. “Be ready at four. And be respectable.”
“What was that about chastity belts?” Asked Butch.
Putting down the phone, I walked up to him, wrapped my arms around him, and said, “With you standing here like this, that gorgeous member on full display, and poor little me unable to resist your charm … Perhaps wearing chastity belts will let us focus on being more sociable.” Kissing him, I felt our cocks touch and then his arms pulled us together in a tight hug.
“What was the rest?” He moved his hips, pressing his hardening member to mine. “What was that about respectable?”
“He’s collecting us at four. We’re going to a BBQ at their house, and he said we were to be dressed respectably.” Thrusting with my own hips against him, I licked my lips teasingly. “Now are you just going to keep us stood here, or do you want to use that gorgeous organ I feel pressing into me for the purpose it was intended?”
“What would you like …?” He asked softly, kissing my nose, his arms round my waist.
“To have that wonderful part of you inside me, my love …” Kissing his lips, I whispered. “Take me as you would a wife …” Kissing him again, I smiled. “Dominate me. Take me wherever you fancy …”
He took me on the living room carpet, on my back, my hips raised on a cushion and my legs over his strong back as he sank his gorgeous manhood into my manhole. I surrendered to his dominating thrusts, my own cock laying unused on my stomach, until with a final powerful thrust, he shot his load into me. When he’d finally finished and withdrawn, he made me stay on my back and helped himself to my cock, straddling my hips, and sinking down on me so that I was inside him as he sat on my crotch, now pinned to the cushion beneath me.
“Tell me, my love — are we ‘respectable’?”
“I doubt it …” I grinned up at him. “I think I’ve forgotten how to be …”
“Good.” Grinning, he began to fuck himself on my erection. “Because I like being disreputable with you …”
Eli was at the door at two minutes to four. We’d opted to wear lycra thongs under our denims — both clean, fairly new, and still looking it — teeshirts and loose cotton over-shirts with our best trainers on our feet.
“Respectable enough, Eli?” I asked, teasing him.
“You’ll do,” he retorted, running his eye over our outfits. “We’re entertaining a couple of other folk as well — so best behaviour, both of you.”
“Do we know them?” Butch asked as we piled into the car.
“Doubt it,” Eli replied, pulling away from the curb as we fastened seat belts. “But you’ll find them quite useful to know.”
He wouldn’t be drawn on why, so we just relaxed and talked about how interesting the previous evening’s party had been and how much fun we’d had trying to free ourselves of the suits and the chastity belts. As we laughed and talked, it struck me that we really didn’t know our host, benefactor, mentor at all. Sure, we knew what he’d shared with us, but we really didn’t know the ‘person’ at all. For all his apparent lack of education, he knew a lot about music, art and architecture. He’d clearly read widely and some of the more niche literature. Damn, he knew some of the authors I’d struggled to study, and talked about structural loads and load bearing elements of structure in ways that made Butch sit up. But, as soon as you asked where he’d learned any of this — he made a joke of it and shifted the subject. “Read a lot,” was his usual fend off, or it was, “picked up a bit along the way.”
“So you managed to get yourselves free eventually.” Mark greeted us. “And you do ‘brush up well’ when you want to.”
The pool patio conservatory had been opened up and a large gas grill set up on one side. A dumb waiter loaded with glasses, a fruit punch and soft drinks stood ready next to a table loaded with fresh Italian bread slices, salads, a selection of dressings and marinading steaks, lamb sirloin, sausages and even chicken and veg kebabs waited.
“Butch, you’re in charge of the drinks. The punch to start. Go easy on it, it sneaks up on you. There’s white wine in the fridge, and some alcohol free, there’s beers, soft drinks as well. Penn, you’re Mark’s assistant on the grill.”
The mention of ‘alcohol-free’ drinks warned me, and I tipped Butch off quietly, “I think we’re on the no alcohol tonight, love. I don’t know, but these guest are important …”
“This is Penn Forester, Dunstan. Thinks he’d like to be a journalist …” Eli winked as I shook hands with the aristocratic looking guest. “Dunstan’s a publisher’s senior editor — the man to know if you want to make a living writing.”
“Eli’s being generous.” Dunstan’s laugh was warm. “You’re an English Lit. major from Fenchester? Well done. You had Professor Winton?”
“I did.” I shuddered. “He was a tough teacher. His assignments almost made me give up.”
“You didn’t though,” the reply was a compliment. “Get me a drink while I say hello to Rodger who I see has just arrived — a Sauvignon Blanc — and something for yourself, and lets talk.” Behind him Eli nodded and winked, which I took as an instruction.
The talk felt like a job interview, but without a job or an offer being made. In the process I learned that Dunstan worked for Pegasus Publishing, based in Fenchester (you have to have an office somewhere and this city suits the Directors …) which published books and some sci-fi and fantasy magazines specialising in short stories.
“You write yourself?” He asked as we discussed this. “Published anything?”
“Had a couple of shorts published in the school magazine and one in a weekly aimed at young adult and a few for a couple of monthlies.” Hesitating, I considered, then added, “And I’ve been writing a monthly column for a magazine that’s, um, a bit niche …”
“Not ‘The Vulcan’?” His raised eyebrow suggested this was not a good reference. Then he smiled. “You write the monthly column on living with a fetish? I find it very enjoyable. Tell you what, send me some samples of your, er, non-erotic writing,” fishing out his wallet, he handed me a business card. “Send it to me by email, and now I see Mark’s got the meat grilled, so let’s eat. We’ll have to chat again before the evening’s out.” Beckoning to the man he’d arrived with. “Florian, this is Penn Forester, the chap Eli told us about. Butch’s partner …”
Assisting Mark at the grill was no hardship. I already knew that he had a similarly wicked sense of humour to Eli’s — if anything more so. I knew that he was older than Eli, and that they’d more or less looked after each other from childhood. Somehow, on all our previous visits, I’d never really explored what their relationship was.
“Eli was the one everyone picked on, especially his Dad. He liked to whip me with his belt and slap the kid around … stopped doing it after I got big enough.” He paused to tend the steak he was grilling. “One night he went for he.. Eli, and I broke his head … After that he left Eli alone.” He snorted. “Social got involved. A few things came out and the bastard got sent down.” He shrugged. “Anyways, with him gone, and our Mum just about keeping us fed … well, I looked after Eli. Brought he—him up. Right little tearaway he was, but, between us … we worked our way out of all that.” He smiled suddenly and patted my backside. “Now I’ve shocked you.”
“Shocked ..?” I passed him the platter for the steaks. “Are you saying Eli’s your brother?”
“Half ... brother.” He grinned up at me as he deftly shifted the steaks off the grill. “Different fathers. We don’t look like each other, so everyone thinks …” He laughed. “Anyway, that’s our little secret. I got Eli through the shit we got as teens … and sh … he got my back more than once. We’re a damned good team don’t you think?”
“What are you two talking about?” Eli loomed at my side. “He telling you all the family secrets? About how we raided the garbage for food, and salvaged stuff to sell to the rag and bone … Don’t believe a word of it …” The kiss he planted on Mark’s forehead was tender, more than just a lover’s token. “Better pass those steaks around, Penn. If you wave them in front of me … they’ll get eaten.”
The rest of evening passed in a relaxed manner, the conversation wide ranging, and the food superb. Butch found himself in a long conversation with the second set of guests. Rodger and his partner, Ford, were the senior partners in an engineering firm in the city. No job was mentioned, though, like me, Butch felt he’d been on an interview when someone had finally dragged him off to go and fetch some more wine. The conversation with Mark slipped into my memory, but made me see Eli in a slightly different way. Now I looked at him, some of the odd things about him started to make a picture, but I wasn’t sure it made any sense. Especially after a bit more wine than I’d realised.
Back in the flat, well fed, slightly tipsy, we adopted our favourite sixty-nine position as soon as we’d stripped. We’d both been cautious with the drinks, but even so, had consumed slightly more than we’d thought, but not enough to make fools of ourselves.
“Mmm, the barbecue was good,” murmured Butch, his mouth busy on my erection, “But there’s nothing as good as having your gorgeous weapon all to myself …”
Busy enjoying my lover’s tool beneath him, I made no reply. He was right though, the barbecue had been good, and meeting Dunstan, his partner Florian, Rodger and his lover, Ford, had certainly been interesting, but, right now, all I wanted was for my lover to feed me his cum — but not too quickly.
