On my way out of the diner, a man
stopped me and asked, “Are you Ed Stone?” When I answered that I was, he told
me that he had learned of me from Geoff, whom I knew as another regular at the
diner. Introducing himself as Tom Williams, he said that, from what he had
heard from Geoff, he was sure that I would enjoyed a play date at his
houseboat. In the few seconds this exchange took, my face must have flushed
noticeably. Geoff must have told Tom about the time he had coaxed me into
letting him undress me, inspect me, edge me, and stroke me to orgasm. Standing
by the door near the busy cash register, I was caught between the feelings of
embarrassment that had me wanting to leave without saying a word in reply and
the sudden excitement that came with the memory of the evening at Geoff’s.
Standing there, one particular
picture came to mind, that of seeing myself naked standing next to fully
dressed Geoff in his living room. My heart pounded and I realized that behind
me was a wall mirror, and that, turning then to look, I would think of how I
wanted Tom Williams to undress and play with me as Geoff had done, while I
watched it all in the mirror. My voice was gone, I tried to say something, but
it wouldn’t come out. “Call me,” Tom said, tucking a card in my shirt pocket.
He looked very satisfied at my embarrassed response. When I got to my car
around the corner, my heart was still pounding, and I sat with my eyes closed,
images from the mirror flooding from that evening months before. Tom’s smile, as
he had spoken of the play date and my pleasure, came to mind as well. I called
him as soon as I got home and left a message on his machine.
He called back in less than an hour.
I was again nervous, the fact of which he seemed very aware, and repeatedly assured
me that I would have a great time. We made a date for the following Friday
evening at Tom’s houseboat down on Lake Union. For days I thought of the coming
date, getting hard thinking about it. It would be very different than the time
Geoff had invited me to his apartment after we had talked in the diner. Geoff
had seduced me, making very polite requests and saying how much he would
appreciate my assenting to his unbuttoning my shirt or then taking it off
completely. I had enjoyed his voice intoning with assurance that his undressing
and then looking at me and touching me was the right thing to do. With Tom
there wouldn’t be any coaxing. I had, by calling him, confirmed what Geoff had
told him, I liked being undressed, admired, and stroked.
I told Tom that I was nervous, when
he met me at the entrance to the dock. “Nervous or excited?” he asked, which
made me think for a moment how much I wanted him to reassure me as Geoff had.
Was I nervous because I was not eligible or deserving of the courtesies of seduction?
I didn’t know how to answer my own question of myself or his entirely. “Both,”
I replied. “I am very excited and nervous at the same time.” As we walked down
the dock and spoke those few words, I looked at him and his look told me that
he was enjoying my nervousness, my vulnerability. My heart was pounding.
Once inside the houseboat, Tom had me
look at the two of us in a large mirror as we talked and he undressed me
slowly. He went about it rather like a window dresser in a department store
window. For a few moments I thought I might calm down entirely and feel
relaxed. But the moment he unbuttoned three buttons on my shirt and looked
inside, I was suddenly trembling. “Oh, Ed,” he said, looking inside my shirt.
“You are naked.” I was in a way shocked by his statement. I wasn’t naked. I was
trembling because I was being undressed slowly and was anticipating being naked
for him. Yet, he was describing my trembling as my nakedness. My feeling, my
desire showed completely. He was right. I was naked.
I don’t know how it was that I didn’t
shoot my load in my pants before he unbuttoned them, I was so excited. Somehow
Tom knew how to direct my attention and divert me from orgasm. That had to have
been it. When I was completely undressed, Tom insisted that I look at my face
in the mirror while he told me what we were going to do. For that he had me
step closer to the mirror. We had been standing about six feet from it. For
this part, we were only about a foot and a half from it. He told me slowly,
while watching me watch my own facial expression, that he was going to put a
cowbell on my cock and walk me down the dock to another houseboat where some
friends of his were waiting for us. I watched my expression change. Tom enjoyed
seeing me see my stunned reaction, which then soon began to be mixed with
excitement. There was also an expression I didn’t expect, curiosity. I found
myself looking at my face as though I was engaged in an effort to discover my
own feelings.
I started to say something, but Tom
stopped me. “Talk to me, but look at your own face.” he said. “Tom,” I said,
“The dock is a public space, I don’t want people to see me, not just anyone
passing by.” “Ed,” he replied, “It really isn’t a public dock. Only owners,
renters and their friends use it, and this time of day it is pretty quiet. You
are with me. I know everyone and will take care of anything. You are going to
be glad you did this,” he added.
He put the bell on my cock. It
fastened with a ring at the base of the head snugly. I was again very nervous,
which now seemed not to matter to him as he was consumed again as the window
dresser. Once he was satisfied that the bell was a good fit, he told me to walk
around at a normal pace so that he could hear the bell. He explained that, when
we went into the other houseboat, his friends needed to know when to look at
the doorway. That was why the bell was so important. “They need to see your
face as you walk into the room like this.” he told me. The ring on my cock head
felt wonderful, even when it hurt a little. The bell’s weight made my hard on
stand out straight from my body, except that, when I took a step and it swung,
my cock pointed more toward the floor for a second, before bobbing up again.
The bell was the right weight.
“Okay, Ed. You’re ready to go.” With
that he went to the door, opened it, and motioned me to come with him. I looked
at myself in the mirror and looked at him at the door. “Tom,” I said, “Could
you look to see if anyone is out there? Your friends want to see me, but other
people could be upset. I don’t want to be in trouble.” “It is okay,” he said.
“They are waiting to see you, Ed. We’re going down the dock now.” For a moment
I thought I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take a step toward the door naked with a
cowbell hanging from my hard cock, my face flushed with excitement. But I did
it. I walked to the door, looked out, looked at Tom, whose face suddenly bore a
distinctly mischievous expression. When I hesitated, he pulled me (clang,
clang) out the door by my left elbow and like a child being taken to the
principal’s office, walked me down the dock in the twilight to a light green
houseboat, the bell announcing every step I took. I felt there were eyes that
had come to the windows of the houseboats and were watching me. Tom led me to
and opened a side door and then into the kitchen within. To the left was a
stairway. “Up the stairs, Ed. They are waiting to see you,” Tom said. “Go. Show
your face.”
I went up the steep stairs, the
cowbell clanging, and into a bright room, which seemed furnished more like a
lobby than anything else, a lobby full of men all directing their attention to
me as I emerged to show my face, as Tom put it. And he put it rightly. I showed
my face first and foremost coming up the stairs into the room that way. It
seemed that my face was the part of me that interested them most, though they
were very interested in my hard on as well.
“Where is Sandy?” a fellow in a
leather chair asked. “Did Tom tell you about Sandy?” “No,” I replied. Someone else said, “Tom probably forgot and is
getting him now.” I was standing then by the door, or rather the railing at the
top of the stairs and about seven or eight feet from the nearest chair. There
were five men, one of them very cute. Behind me was a sudden rush. A small
Labrador came up the stairs and sniffed my left thigh and hand. “He will lick
your balls,” someone said. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” “You will like it,”
someone else offered. Sandy did lick my balls and it did feel wonderful. Then
someone directed Sandy to what was evidently his place under a table.
On the table were some three by five
cards, which Tom, who had come up the stairs after Sandy, picked up, briefly
looked through, and handed to the fellow in the leather chair. He alone asked
the questions from the cards, questions which were framed so that I had to
admit to my desires or describe them. Often, they began with, “Do you want to
tell us . . .” When asked, for example, I said that I wanted to tell them about
the first time I was naked with a clothed male and how it made me feel.
At scout camp we had been instructed
in what to do in case we encountered a bear. The instruction was that the scout
was to take off his jacket and, laying it on the ground, retreat slowly in the
direction of camp. The bear would be interested in inspecting the jacket,
allowing time for the scout to put distance between himself and the danger.
As the straggler on a return from a
short hike into the woods, I had heard something on the trail that sounded like
a large animal and, having no jacket, took off my shirt, laid it on the trail
and slowly retreated. Still some distance from camp, I again heard something
that sounded like a large animal. I took off my pants, laid them on the trail
and, continued to retreat towards camp slowly. Soon after that, I saw at a
distance further down the trail the assistant scout master, a very handsome
young man. He was not headed towards camp, but rather towards me. Immediately,
as I thought about how soon he would notice me, I decided that I wanted nothing
more than to take my underwear off, lay it on the trail and let him see me like
that. I laid my underwear on the trail
and continued down the trail toward him. When he saw me he smiled, and the
moment he did that, my cock got hard. I tried to pretend I didn’t know I had a
hard on, when I explained to him that I had left my clothing on the trail on
account of a bear. But he said, “Ed, you have a hard on. You don’t want to go
back to camp like that.” Then, confronted with the fact, I told him it just
happened when I saw him and that I didn’t think it would go away. He smiled
again and assured me it would be okay. He looked up the trail and down, then
led me off the trail and around a large tree. “I’ll make it okay,” he said. “I
know what we can do.” With that, he rested one arm on my shoulder and began
stroking my cock with the other. “Come on, Ed,” he said. “You can do it,” he
said and put his lips to my right ear. “Yes, Ed,” he said and kissed my neck.
“Do it for me.” Very quickly I came. “It’s going to be okay now,” he said.
“It’s going to be okay.” And it was. He took me up the trail where we recovered
my underwear and then, seeing that there seemed no sign of a bear, further up
the trail to my pants and shirt.
Having told the group of that first
experience, I volunteered that one of them reminded me of the assistant scout
master, and they all smiled. I said that it felt very good to tell them how
excited that made me feel, both to see that one of them looked like the
assistant scout master and to tell them that.
I was asked if I would like to swing
the bell? I said I wanted to and did. Did I want one of them to dab the pre cum
from my cock? I answered that I did want that. Did I want them to open my slit,
when they dabbed the pre cum from my cock? Oh, yes. please. Would I like to see
myself in a mirror? Yes, I would. I was told to turn around. I hadn’t noticed
when I had come up the stairs that there was a mirror on the wall above the
stairs. They asked if I wanted to tell them how it felt looking in the mirror at
myself. I could see some of them behind me in the mirror, but not the cute one
who reminded me of the assistant scout master. I told them that and the cute
one stood up and came over and stood next to me. He rested an arm on my right
shoulder and put his lips to my ear. “Ed,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.”
And it was.
