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The Hand that Fists The Piper (Twink gets Fisted and Seeded) by Andy McGreggor


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The Hand That Fists The Piper

At the corner of Buchanan Street and George Square, Cameron saw a cute piper and stopped. The sun was shining, and it was Friday afternoon. He was off work for three whole days and felt relaxed. The lad was a sweetie, noted Cameron with rising interest. He guessed him to be in his late teens with blond hair en brosse, a baby-face, and a pair of strong hairy legs. Cameron could tell because the lad was wearing a kilt. Nice, purred Cameron. Cameron was forty and very attractive in a clean and powerful way. Women adored him, other men feared him and lads spread their little boypussies for him. That's how it was with Cameron.

Cameron stood and enjoyed the lad's playing, watching how he sucked hard on the pipe, his young face contorted with effort, a line of sweat on his forehead, his spiky hair damp. When he had finished, the crowd magically vanished before the boy had had a chance to hand around his cap for tips. Cameron laughed. "It's Glasgow, son, what do you expect," and with that he stuffed a Scottish hundred pound note into the cap. The bagpipe player looked up. His jaw dropped.

"Have youz nae made a mistake, pal?" asked the piper.

"No son, nae mistake," replied Cameron as cool as a cucumber, his enormous cock hard and dripping in his tight briefs.

"That's tae much," said the lad.

"No it not," replied Cameron fixing the lad with a smouldering look.

"What dae yez want?" asked the lad, lowering his voice and looking around.

"I wannae fuck you," said Cameron calmly. He smiled sweetly. Cameron was a confident bastard. And you know what, dear reader, nine times out of ten it got him what he wanted.

"It's nae enough then," replied the boy. He was pretty, a real peach. His eyes were brown, his lips full and red. His eyelashes were almost feminine. Cameron looked down at the lad's thick green kilt. He could see the lad's cock poking outwards through the tartin. A big one, thought Cameron, his mouth watering, OK, thought Cameron, this was going to be an expensive treat so to hell with it, let it be a night to remember. He whispered something in the lad's ear whilst holding four other notes in his hand.The lad's eyes were wide, his pretty mouth open. He looked shifty. He scratched his head. Then he took the money and Cameron smiled.

Cameron's hotel was just blocks away and he waited for the lad to pack up his pipes. They began to walk. "What's your name, son?" asked Cameron.

"It's Ryan," said the boy.

"How old are you, sonny,?" asked Cameron.

"I'm twenty,"replied Ryan. Christ, thought Cameron, I am old enough to be your dad. Strangely the thought gave him an instant hard-on. It was becoming a habit.

Cameron ordered a bottle of champagne and then they walked up the two flights to Cameron's room.

"It's a nice room," said Ryan. He was used to a grotty bedsit in Tradeston.

"We're no here to chat aboot the room, laddie," said Cameron. Cameron lay on the floor, glass of champagne in his hand. "Shut up and come and stand over me in that wee kilt of yours."

Ryan blushed at the harsh tone. His cock responded with a leap. He complied, enjoying the weird sensation of a man peering up his kilt.

"Ach, yer wearing boypanties, laddie," tutted Cameron peering up Ryan's strong hairy legs. He saw the bulge of the boy's blue briefs. "Spread your legs a wee bit further, son," he urged. Ryan complied. "Nice," purred Cameron. "Strong legs, son. Do yez work out?"

"Na, I cycle a lot," replied Ryan. "Can I get ma cock oot, mister?" he asked.

"No, I wannae have a wee sniff of yer panties first, sonnie," replied Cameron.

"Fine," replied Ryan. "You're payin'."

Cameron was up like a shot, his face in Ryan's, his handsome cheeks aflame. He spoke in a low growl which scared the shit out of Ryan. "Don't you ever, ever cheek me again, laddie," he warned.

"Sorry mister," whispered Ryan. His cock was so stiff he was worried it might break.

"Pull up your kilt, laddie," said Cameron kneeling. Ryan hoisted his kilt like a cheap whore at a Victorian brothel. Cameron rubbed his nose on the fragrant mound of boypanty. The dirty boy had not learned to shake properly, thought Cameron delighted. He inhaled his fill then yanked down Ryan's briefs. A beautiful seven-inch cock was there to greet him. Cameron paused to admire it. It was uncut, as were most Scottish laddies. It was engorged and a dark shade of pink, vascular, and dripping. He contemplated Ryan's thick bush of pubic hair. He picked up Ryan's briefs, stood, and rubbed the crotch on the lad's face. "You dirty wee laddie," he said sternly. "Sniff that! Go on, sniff it. Did nae-one teach you how to clean your cock?"

"Sorry," muttered Ryan.

"What?" shouted Cameron.

"I said I am sorry," repeated Ryan whose face was now pink with shame.

"Eat them," said Cameron.

"Huh?"

"Put them in your mouth. Taste them you filthy wee fecker. They stink of stale piss." Cameron sneered, his bestial cock as hard as wood. "Hurry up, shit face, I'm nae payin' ya to sit aroond lookin' bonny. Now eat them. Go on, chew your panties for me." Cameron shoved the offending briefs into Ryan's mouth. The lad struggled to take it all in. He was unable to speak. Cameron laughed. "Look at you, a grown man with a pair of pissy boypanties in his mouth, Jesus!"

Ryan's cock was dripping pearls of salty precum. His heart was racing and his balls taut. Cameron undid the ties of the lad's kilt and the young man stood naked but for his t-shirt. Cameron pulled it over the nineteen-year old's head. Pretty, thought Cameron looking at the lad's firm wee body.

Cameron began to massage lubricant onto Ryan's cock and the barely-legal teen groaned and held onto the older man's shoulders. "Mmmmm," moaned Ryan, trying vainly to speak, mouth full of his own panties.

"Let's have a look at that wee arse, shall we?" said Cameron, spinning the teenage bagpiper around and pushing him onto the bed on his knees. "Spread that wee pussy for me, son," he ordered. "Show Daddy that little pink slit, get him the mood." Ryan bent over and pulled apart his two plump white buns to show Cameron his hungry anus.

Both men were naked, both shiny with sweat, an empty bottle of champange on the floor and a second half drunk on the table. Cameron's raw over-size cock was deep inside the teenager's colon. For over an hour and a half Cameron had been fucking him hard. Ryan was exhausted and horny, his rock hard uncut pecker dripping with the sticky discharge of his last hands-free orgasm. That had been half an hour earlier. Cameron was indefatigable. He fucked like a machine, his cock tingling and disciplined. He would cum when he was ready and he had more ordeals to inflict before that. Ryan was going to earn his money. Cameron pulled out of Ryan's anus, now so loose it was more cunt than anus.

Cameron liberally covered his hand with lubricant and handed Ryan a bottle of poppers. He inserted four fingers inside the lad with ease, relishing the warm, tight pressure. Ryan murmured protestingly but Cameron began pushing his thumb onwards. A yelp of discontent from Ryan failed to dissuade Cameron. He withdrew his fist for a final assault. He lubricated his fist and lower arm and then began to push. Ryan snorted the poppers and hid his pretty head in the pillow. Cameron applied pressure. At first nothing happened but Cameron was an expert and Ryan a virgin. Cameron knew how it would end. Ryan was terrified. "Relax for Daddy," whispered Cameron.

"I'm scared," confessed Ryan to the pillow.

"Dinnae be, Daddy kens fair well what he's doing," replied Cameron. Ryan felt a terrifying and novel sensation as the fist began to beat his resistant sphincter. He began to open wider than he had ever opened before, a solid force of flesh pushing into him.

"Oh God!" he cried into the pillow, his eyes clenched, his nasty wee cock dripping. "I dinnae ken if I can dae this mister! Please!" he wailed. But it was too late. Cameron's fist sank home, deep into the lad's pristine unused colon, filling it with manfist. Silence filled the room, broken only by the men's soft panting.

"You OK, laddie?" asked Cameron.

"Aye," muttered Ryan, shocked and horny.

Cameron took his queue and pushed his fist further until Ryan's anal lips were sucking toothlessly on his wrist, each little spasm delighting the libidinous fister.

"See, nae such a big deal, huh?" said Cameron.

"Can you take it oot now, please," begged Ryan. "It's gettin' sare."

"Aye, laddie, you've done awffy well. Daddy will take it oot." Gently Cameron pulled back and Ryan hissed in discomfort as his sphincter was pulled backwards. His anal lips were drawn across Cameron's forearm sweetly, like a snail being lifted from a wall.

"Oh Christ," hissed Ryan as the fist popped out and left his anus gapping, a deep hollow, purple cavern. Cameron grinned as he watched the dilated boypussy gradually ease shut. Before Ryan had a chance to get too comfortable Cameron was inside him once more, this time punishing the lad with his orcine cock. "Fuck, fuck, it hurts," whispered the horny lad, his cock rock hard. Cameron fucked hard and deep. Cameron wanted to cum.

"Shut up laddie, Daddy's concentrating," snapped Cameron, his climax building. He felt the telltale tingle, the contracting of his stomach muscles and finally the agonisingly sweet release. "Jesus Christ!" he roared, ejaculating a copious load of mancum deep inside the lad's hollow cavern, splashing his colon walls with his potent jizz. Cameron stayed inside the lad for a moment to catch his breath. What the hell, thought Cameron realising he needed to piss. He held Ryan's white, girlish buttocks and pushed on his bladder. A moment later he felt his piss churning inside Ryan's colon. At first Ryan was unaware what Cameron was doing. When he clicked the lad's cock began to spasm. "I'm gonna cum," whispered Ryan, shooting his second load.

"Here's your money," said Cameron, buttoning his crisp £300 shirt and brushing his hair in the mirror. He nodded at the pile of notes, a couple more than agreed. "Now get dressed, leave your boypanties on the table and fuck off."

Ryan stumbled, pulling on his kilt. He needed to get the piss and Cameron's nasty cum out his arse but he could do that in the lobby bathroom. He pulled on his trainers and took his cash. Without a second look he closed the door behind him. Cameron grinned, picked up the discarded briefs and gave them a deep, appreciative sniff.

This extract of a story is planned for a second book in the Eurotwink series by Andy McGreggor (or possible a book of fisting stories). If you like the character of Cameron, he does appear in other of the McGreggor series of Kindle books, including the prequel to the whole series, Danny and the Fifty Load Bareback Fuck, which hopefully should be avaiable soon online) Enjoy! Andy

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