An unexpected visitor
Living alone is my choice. I’m a graphic designer and artist, and I write articles for contracted magazines as well. Royalties, commissions and some careful investments mean I have a comfortable income and can afford a few of the luxuries of life as well. My home reflects that, situated on the outskirts of a small rural town where I have access to everything I need when I need it, and complete privacy for when I’m working.
Living alone means I’m free to enjoy my fetish as well, since I prefer to keep it private in the town, the locals being rather conservative. Several rather disastrous relationships have also helped me decide to stay ‘single’ and uncommitted, and though there have been overtures from individuals in the town, I have taken care to not get involved. Don’t defecate on your own doorstep as the saying is.
The fact is I am blessed, or perhaps cursed, with an unusually long penis and a large rather shapely glans to it. I’m circumcised, a consequence of the size of my glans, and rather like it. Just to crown things I’m also Gay, and into fetish for my sexual pleasure. The fetish developed from a very dysfunctional family life, being targeted at school for my rather obvious ‘difference’ and an attempt to find ways to escape some of the unpleasantness. It started out with wetsuits, needed for my hobby of sailing and boating, and developed from there. So, all things considered, I prefer to keep to myself, play at home in private, and just occasionally, visit some friends and acquaintances for some joint amusement and pleasure.
My home is in a rather remote area, though the town I live just outside, is reasonably sized and has everything – or almost – I need for day to day living. My house is situated on a steeply sloping piece of ground, with the main road to the town below the bank that marks the lower edge of my property. Behind me, the slope eases, giving me a long garden, which I have terraced and kept simple with a dense hedge surrounding it. The house is a very traditional design externally with a very modern interior, my specification in fact, as I wanted something secure, yet practical and comfortable to live in. So it has a number of traditional features blended with modern technology.
The house, thanks to the site, is on three levels, with a garage and basement at the lower level. Besides the garage, the basement houses a small generator set – living in a rural area means power outage is always a possible – a laundry and drying room, a large pantry, small workshop (I make some of my own toys and outfits) and a ‘playroom’ dungeon if you like, accessed through a hidden door.
On the first floor I have a large open plan living area, kitchen, a guest toilet, my studio, and a patio which opens off the living area and gives direct access to a terraced garden behind the house. The top floor has my main bedroom, two guest rooms and the en suite bathrooms. My bedroom faces the garden side of the house and has a verandah running the full width of the house above the patio – my favourite spot for morning coffee in the summer. But now, it is winter, and the weather forecast for the weekend is horrendous.
The snow started piling up against my triple glazed livingroom windows to the patio soon after I finished unpacking and stowing away my groceries. I made myself a cup of tea and flicked on the widescreen television, then began to lower the storm shutters on the exposed side of the house. By the time I’d finished the job I needed to complete, and sent it off to the agency, it was darkening outside, and the snow was really piling up. I lowered the shutters on the studio windows, and then lowered half the shutters on the glass wall of the livingroom. It was going to be really bad.
Looking out of the bedroom, I grinned. Why waste the opportunity? It had been a while since I’d taken a weekend away with a regular player for a rubber weekend. I could do some photos in the studio for possible use in some future projects – a lot of my best paid work comes from fetish shoots. In this weather there was no way anyone was going to call unexpectedly on me at home. Going to my concealed wardrobe, I selected some ‘gear’ for a little private enjoyment.
Wearing my latex catsuit I settled down in my studio, and spent a useful afternoon creating a number of images I could manipulate and play around with to create pictures I could sell to various websites. I’d only just saved these when the power went out. Living as I do, and being reliant on electric power for so much of what I do, I have a small generator. After a short break during which I realized how dark it had got, and how savage the blizzard had become, the generator kicked in.
“Right,” I said aloud. “Time for some coffee and a bite.” I gathered up the hoods and other items I’d used in my photo session and walked through to the living room. Snapping on the television, I paused to look out of the window. The patio had a thick layer of snow and the garden was only just visible through the driving curtain of the stuff. “Shit. Not a night for anyone to be outdoors!” I said as the final shutter slid slowly downward. “No point in keeping that open!”
The television program paused as the announcer came on to give a weather update, and a warning. I laughed as I dropped my toys next to my comfortable leather recliner. “Who’d be mad enough to be out in this?”
Coffee, a snack and a video selected, I settled down to spend a comfortable evening enjoying being in my rubber. Of course I was watching a video with lots of rubber bondage action – what else do you watch on your own on an evening like this? Half listening to the storm I watched my favourite porn video, the plot one of those simplistic ones of seduction, introduction to rubber and bondage and lots of sex. I was startled out of my enjoyment by the front door chimes.
“What the hell?” I experienced a moment of panic. Here I was in my skintight latex catsuit, some rather blatant toys next to my chair, watching blatant porn … and now a visitor? Who the hell would be out in this? The Police? If so, why? Quickly I shoved the loose stuff out of sight, grabbed an overall I kept for any dirty jobs behind the kitchen door and stuffed myself into it as the door chime sounded again, this time prolonged. “Keep your hair on,” I yelled, knowing whoever it was wouldn’t hear me anyway. Stuffing my feet into Ugg boots and hoping like hell the roll neck sweater I’d pulled on would hide the neck and cuffs of my catsuit, I switched on the lights for the stairs and the door porch and hurried to the door.
I was bloody glad of the lobby entrance when I opened the outer door! The guy standing in the porch was covered in snow, and definitely not dressed for this sort of weather. Beneath the snow on his good quality overcoat, he wore a scarf and a business suit. His Oxford brogues looked as if they’d be ruined no matter how expensive or carefully treated and there was ice in his eyebrows beneath what looked like a shawl pulled partly over his head.
“Good God,” I said. “Come inside quickly. You must be mad to be out in this!”
“T-t-t-thank-s-s-s,” He managed, his teeth chattering despite his best efforts to control them.
I had to force the door closed against the wind and snow, feeling the chill through my flimsy clothes as it hit the latex and my sweat under it. I turned to face my unexpected visitor. “Fucking hell, you look bloody frozen! Where the hell did you come from?” I stopped him as he tried to answer. “Never mind. Get out of those wet things right here! I’ll put them in my drying room. We have to get you warmed up first, then we can sort out the rest.”
Gratefully he began to shed the sodden overcoat, a beautifully tailored woollen job that must have cost a fortune. The tailored suit beneath it was also sodden, but now I was looking for something dry he could wear to get upstairs for a warm bath or shower. I found a large bath sheet in the laundry. “Wrap up in this, and give me that wet stuff, I’ll get it dry for you.”
Stripped down he was damned good looking. Some marks showed where he’d be getting some bruises in a day or two, but there was no sign of any serious damage. He had a nice figure, trim and well-proportioned body, and the bulge in his slip briefs … I did a double take. It was a thong, not a brief! Had I struck lucky? He hesitated at the thong, though it was a wet as everything else and almost transparent.
“Best give me that as well, chum.” I smiled. “Wrap yourself in this. I’ll only be a minute.” Damn, he had a gorgeous cock as well. Cut, just as I like them, nicely proportioned even with his being so cold.
By the time I’d got his suit, shirt and coat hung in my drying room, and got back, he was looking warmer wrapped in the bath sheet, but still shivering violently. “I’m Mike Parker,” he said, holding out a hand. “I thought I was a gonner – and then I saw your lights.”
Shaking his hand, I smiled, “I’m Pete Wilson, though you may have come across my work under my working name – Connor O’Malley.”
“Connor O’Malley? Well I’ll be damned,” he aid, his teeth chattering. “I love your art.”
“Come on, you need something hot inside you, and a nice shower or bath to get the chill out. This way.” I grinned. “And I’ll find you something more suitable to wear – we’re about the same size so it won’t be a problem.”
He emerged from the spare bedroom looking very much warmer in a rollnecked shirt and a pair of my slacks and his feet in a pair of thick socks and slippers I’d had for ages and not used. I’d got rid of my toys, stripped my catsuit and greeted him at the kitchen door wearing an almost identical outfit. A glance at his crotch told me he’d no qualms about the thong I’d put out for him either.
“Thanks for these, and that shower. I was beginning to think I’d never get warm.” He grinned eyeing my outfit. “I appreciate your taking me in like this.”
“Grab a chair at the table, I’ve brewed up a dose of Glühwein, some soup and some fresh breadrolls. I’ll bring them to the table.”
“Thanks,” he took in my outfit. “I see you’ve changed as well.” He grinned. “Sorry to gatecrash you like this. I was bloody mad to think I could drive in this weather!”
I laughed. “Only wear the overall when I’m doing something messy.” Catching his look, I realized he must have seen the cuffs of the catsuit as I gathered his clothes and found him the ski suit. I shrugged. “I wasn’t really dressed to entertain guests.”
“Looked perfectly good to me,” he replied, grinning. “I certainly wasn’t complaining.”
“I’ll remember for next time,” I retorted, serving soup and piling the rolls into a basket. Putting the food in front of him, I fetched a serving for myself. “You can’t have walked here, where did you leave your motor? What the hell were you doing out in this anyway? The weather warnings have been all over the radio and television.”
“It’s a long story. I was trying to get to Petersford. I hoped to find a hotel or something there. It must be close to here.” Swallowing a spoonful of the soup, he grimaced. “I left my car about a kilometer from here. Couldn’t see the road, and missed the turn. It’s in a hedge and the ditch. I had quite a job to get out of it.” He shuddered. “I won’t forget the walk either. Must have fallen into the ditch myself several times. You can only just see the road in most places. Don’t they have snow ploughs here?”
“We do, but this storm is something else. I know the plough went through a couple of hours ago, I heard him. And this is Petersford – or close. We’re about half a kilometer from the edge of town.” I paused. “Which reminds me, we better contact the police and report your accident and that you’re safe. Otherwise they’ll have people out trying to find you near the car when somebody finds it.”
“Good thought.” He grimaced again. “My mobile is somewhere in the car. I couldn’t find it.” He hesitated. “Sorry, I should explain, was supposed to spend the night with people around forty miles from here, but, well, I couldn’t stay there. What should have been a straightforward parting of ways ended up getting rather ugly. Never have family involved in your business affairs – especially if you don’t get along too well with them to begin with. I live in Barr’s Harbour, and thought I could beat the weather …”
“Don’t worry, we can use my phone.” I grinned. “Assuming the signal masts haven’t come down in this!” Watching his face, I continued, “Thanks for telling me why you were out despite the weather warnings, but I have a feeling I should know you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I own the Trad Boat chain – and a couple of other businesses.”
It clicked into place. “I have a small boat, a Cornish Crabber, and I buy gear from your Barr’s Harbour shop on occasion. I must have seen you there.”
He chuckled. “Probably. I think you bought a wetsuit from me a while back. And you’ve done some designs for another of my businesses, Rubber Life.”
“Rubber Life is your company?”
He nodded, helping himself to more of the soup and another roll. “It is, and so is Dolphin Wear – the makers of your wetsuit if my memory is right.”
I nodded. “That’s right. Time I got a new one actually, that one has seen a bit of wear and tear now.”
“Then the next one is on me.” He smiled. “I insist. I was damned stupid to go out on the roads today. I could have stayed in the hotel at Bankhill, but I was almost hoping I wouldn’t make it. Then I realized that would just give the bastard I went to meet the satisfaction he wants.”
“Oh. Shit, that sounds bad.” I touched his hand on the table. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t, and if there’s anything I can do to help …”
Over the next hour or so he told me some of the story, and I told him a little of my business. Gradually the shivering stopped, and he unloaded his concerns in disjointed bits at my prompting.
The soup and the Glühwein worked magic on him. By the time we moved to the living room with hot cocoa, his face had lost its pinched look, and he was relaxed. He’d used my mobile phone, spoken the police, assured them he was uninjured and given the all the details of his car and its location while I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher.
“Fancy some music?” I asked, indicating the hifi and the banks of CDs. “I’ve a fairly eclectic taste, so have a look and pick something you like.”
Handing me the phone, he laughed. “Generous. Okay, the police are happy for now, they’ll want to see me ‘at my convenience’ and say I must inform my insurers. Hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty …”
“Of course not. Is the car badly damaged?”
“Probably. Damned difficult to see, but quite possibly a write off. I’ll have to get back to it as soon as it’s possible to do so. There’s a few things I need to retrieve before it gets towed away.” He selected a CD. “This do? Love this group, and their music is just what I need right now.”
I took it, glancing at the label. “Perfect. Nice soothing instrumental stuff. Just right after the sort of scare you’ve had.” Slipping the CD into the hifi, I adjusted the set and moved back to join him in a chair, but almost walked into him.
His arms went round my waist. “Look, I don’t know how to show my gratitude any other way.” Our bodies met, and I felt the hardness of him against my restrained monster. “You saved my life tonight. As I told you, I was upset. Actually, I was running away … angry … lost …”
Our mouths met as my arms went round his waist, silencing him and cutting off my response. I surrendered my caution, enjoying the embrace and his need. Our passion surged. It had been a long time – too long – since I’d had sex with anybody, and he seemed driven. Almost before we realized it, we were on the floor. His erection was perfect to me. Eight inches of beautiful perfection.
I gasped as he released my twelve inch monster, my large glans flared and the sensitive skin taut in anticipation. He never batted an eye as he fondled it in appreciation, then began to enjoy me as much as I was enjoying him. Lost in our need, we worked on each other’s rampant tools. He was the first to shoot his load, and I swallowed it greedily, savouring the taste of him and enjoying his response before my own eruption grabbed all my attention. For several minutes after we stayed as we were, licking, sucking, kissing each other’s most intimate parts, then, almost reluctantly, he moved to a position in which to lock his mouth to mine in a prolonged and deepening kiss.
“Thank you,” he whispered as we finally broke the kiss. “Thank you for letting me in, for the food, and now for …”
Hugging him, I sighed. “Any time you like …”
Propping himself on one elbow, he reached for my slackened tool. “In rubber next time?”
I laughed. “If you wish.”
His mouth closed over my cock again. “I wish.”
For a long time after we’d satisfied our lust, we sat together in front of the wood stove, nursing drinks. I listened as he talked about what had brought him out in the face of the weather warnings.
“So, you see, I’ve been aware for a while that my business manager has been robbing me, but he’s my brother-in-law, and the kids would be the real victims.” Sipping his drink he watched the fire. “Then I started hearing other rumours, and got my accountants to run some checks. What they turned up was ugly. He wasn’t just robbing me, he was doing so to buy into a rival business. So I went up to confront him with what I knew. Took my lawyer along, and an undercover policeman.”
“I bet that went down well.”
“You’re not wrong. It got really ugly. You see, the reason I took the police along was that my lawyer was also involved. He’s been looking after our family affairs for years, he was a friend of my father’s, but he didn’t approve of me, you see, or of some of my business interests. He’s been working with my sister to take everything.”
“He didn’t approve of you? In what way?”
He laughed. “I’m Gay, as you’ve discovered, and he’s got some dirty little secrets of his own, though he pretends he’s this upright and righteous model of propriety – except he isn’t. Regularly uses a BDSM Mistress I happen to supply outfits for … Anyway, turned out he’s been helping my manager hide the theft – again I had a private investigator discover all this – and then tried to play the innocent when I confronted them all with it. It got ugly. A lot of name calling, and my sister got into the act as well, on the side of our lawyer.”
“Ouch. So the family is involved as well?”
He topped up his glass of wine. “Yeah. She’s resented the fact I inherited our family home and the major share of the business! Keep it in the family they said. Well, fuck the lot of them. As soon as I get back to Barr’s Harbour I’m planning some big changes. My sister will get a settlement, and that’s it. The police now have all the evidence and I’m bringing criminal charges against them.” He laughed. “You know what, they threatened to expose my “deviant lifestyle” if I do.” He grinned. “I came to a conclusion as I was sitting upside down in my car in the ditch and the hedge – I don’t care. So I may lose a few friends, maybe a customer or two – but I don’t care.”
I clinked glasses with him. “You know, maybe I should as well. Come out fully, I mean. Let’s drink to that.”
To be continued..
