Surfsuit

[BBFCKR]

Fuck, mate. Very hot.

[swine]

I’d started a new job at a large establishment where I had to undergo security training. During the day of being taken around the building and being told what to do in case of any incidents and the like, I’d absent-mindedly found myself beginning to fall for the Head of Security and half-imagined what he might look like in gear. As is my way, really. It was that sort of Stockholm Syndrome where I was fantasising about my so-called captor.

His name’s Robert, and he looked quite foxy with his shaved head and suit. Quite bulky but fit. Estimated his age as late 50s and one day when I was arriving at work I saw him arrive on his bike in full cycling gear, and saw his muscular thighs and my fascination began to turn into obsession. You have to have these moments and thoughts, really, to get you through the day. After another evacuation training session, where all the staff were briefed about any potential terrorist threats, I zoned out again and my fascination went further.

After a busy week, I thought I’d head out to one of London’s monthly fetish nights. It was while I was getting a drink at the bar that I could have sworn I saw Robert chatting with some guy all in rubber. Robert, it had to be said, looked fucking horny. It was a thrill seeing him in what looked like rubber skin gear, with 20 hole boots, rubber leggings and a cut-off denim-style rubber jacket. I wasn’t sure if I should go up to him – our only connection was that we worked for the same company – but as I was leaving the club, I saw him at the cloakroom retrieving his rucksack and changing into a tracksuit as he awaited his cab. Our eyes met, and flashed that sort-of ‘do I know you’ exchange. I grinned at him and he gave me a wry, nervous smile as if to say ‘what happens here stays here’ as his address was called out to alert him that his cab was outside.

I couldn’t really focus on my job in the weeks or so that followed, and ended up telling Surfsuit about him. We were having a session and I said how horny this guy I worked with looked, and that maybe we should ‘keep an eye out for him’. Surfsuit grinned evilly, and said “By your description, it sounds like we most definitely should.”

As luck would have it, me and Surfsuit headed to the following month’s fetish event. We were chatting at the bar when I saw Robert at the other end of the bar getting a pint. “That’s him!” I whispered to Surfsuit. I placed my hand on Surfsuit’s crotch as I teased him, noticing a slight flicker of firming up as I said “Maybe you should go and say hello.”

As the night wore on, I wandered around the club and checked out the patrons, and spotted in the dim light of the darkroom Surfsuit snogging Robert. My hard-on strained in my jock at what might soon occur, but thought better of it than to interrupt their moment. I would happily watch Surfsuit do his ritual but instead smiled at the idea as I ventured off into the slingroom.

It was a couple of days later when I messaged Surfsuit to see how he got on and asked how he got on with Robert… “You mean Bob? Yeah, we got on quite well. Nice guy. His arse was a bit tight, but I soon sorted that” with a grinning emoji and biohazard.

I could’ve cum there and then. Work for the next few days was going to be a nightmare if I encountered Robert again, but for some reason he wasn’t in, and the following week’s staff meeting was held by his assistant as ‘Robert was still off sick’. It was then I was fit to burst, and had to go to the staff toilet to knock one out somewhat turned on that Surfsuit had created a new brother who was currently incubating into his new form.

I didn’t see Robert again for another two weeks, which kind of made work a bit boring, and so my fascination wore off as I set about the tedium of my job.

The following week, I’d arranged to meet Surfsuit at a fetish night out in South East London. As I arrived I spotted Surfsuit and there he was… Robert, chatting with Surfsuit at the end of the bar. I made my way up to them and asked “who’s your new mate?” Surfsuit’s shit-eating grin went nuclear as he introduced us. “This is Bob. You know each other, right?” Me and Robert, sorry, Bob said hello. Bob’s flicker of recognition at me and also me knowing Surfsuit was a delight. He seemed both nervous but I sensed a new attitude. “You two should get better acquainted, I’m sure you have lots to talk about. Shared interests and connections, you could say.”

I was turned on beyond belief. Bob looked so fucking horny. He was also both surprised and yet cheeky. Surfsuit then said “Why don’t the three of us go elsewhere, somewhere quieter. I’m sure Bob would like get to know his brothers a little better.”

And that was it. The three of us went into a cubicle where Surfsuit and I spit-roasted Bob, our new brother. Bob turned to me and said “You didn’t tell me you were a pozpig.” I replied “You never asked.”

As the club entered into the last hour, Bob and I decided to leave and headed to the cloakroom. I gently unzipped his arse, and stuck my finger into his cummy and now poz hole and asked him if he fancied coming back to my flat for a ‘nightcap’.

“Yes, brother.” He replied.

[JamesL100]

Hoist?

[Bbbtmws]

9 hours ago, swine said:

I’d started a new job at a large establishment where I had to undergo security training. During the day of being taken around the building and being told what to do in case of any incidents and the like, I’d absent-mindedly found myself beginning to fall for the Head of Security and half-imagined what he might look like in gear. As is my way, really. It was that sort of Stockholm Syndrome where I was fantasising about my so-called captor.

His name’s Robert, and he looked quite foxy with his shaved head and suit. Quite bulky but fit. Estimated his age as late 50s and one day when I was arriving at work I saw him arrive on his bike in full cycling gear, and saw his muscular thighs and my fascination began to turn into obsession. You have to have these moments and thoughts, really, to get you through the day. After another evacuation training session, where all the staff were briefed about any potential terrorist threats, I zoned out again and my fascination went further.

After a busy week, I thought I’d head out to one of London’s monthly fetish nights. It was while I was getting a drink at the bar that I could have sworn I saw Robert chatting with some guy all in rubber. Robert, it had to be said, looked fucking horny. It was a thrill seeing him in what looked like rubber skin gear, with 20 hole boots, rubber leggings and a cut-off denim-style rubber jacket. I wasn’t sure if I should go up to him – our only connection was that we worked for the same company – but as I was leaving the club, I saw him at the cloakroom retrieving his rucksack and changing into a tracksuit as he awaited his cab. Our eyes met, and flashed that sort-of ‘do I know you’ exchange. I grinned at him and he gave me a wry, nervous smile as if to say ‘what happens here stays here’ as his address was called out to alert him that his cab was outside.

I couldn’t really focus on my job in the weeks or so that followed, and ended up telling Surfsuit about him. We were having a session and I said how horny this guy I worked with looked, and that maybe we should ‘keep an eye out for him’. Surfsuit grinned evilly, and said “By your description, it sounds like we most definitely should.”

As luck would have it, me and Surfsuit headed to the following month’s fetish event. We were chatting at the bar when I saw Robert at the other end of the bar getting a pint. “That’s him!” I whispered to Surfsuit. I placed my hand on Surfsuit’s crotch as I teased him, noticing a slight flicker of firming up as I said “Maybe you should go and say hello.”

As the night wore on, I wandered around the club and checked out the patrons, and spotted in the dim light of the darkroom Surfsuit snogging Robert. My hard-on strained in my jock at what might soon occur, but thought better of it than to interrupt their moment. I would happily watch Surfsuit do his ritual but instead smiled at the idea as I ventured off into the slingroom.

It was a couple of days later when I messaged Surfsuit to see how he got on and asked how he got on with Robert… “You mean Bob? Yeah, we got on quite well. Nice guy. His arse was a bit tight, but I soon sorted that” with a grinning emoji and biohazard.

I could’ve cum there and then. Work for the next few days was going to be a nightmare if I encountered Robert again, but for some reason he wasn’t in, and the following week’s staff meeting was held by his assistant as ‘Robert was still off sick’. It was then I was fit to burst, and had to go to the staff toilet to knock one out somewhat turned on that Surfsuit had created a new brother who was currently incubating into his new form.

I didn’t see Robert again for another two weeks, which kind of made work a bit boring, and so my fascination wore off as I set about the tedium of my job.

The following week, I’d arranged to meet Surfsuit at a fetish night out in South East London. As I arrived I spotted Surfsuit and there he was… Robert, chatting with Surfsuit at the end of the bar. I made my way up to them and asked “who’s your new mate?” Surfsuit’s shit-eating grin went nuclear as he introduced us. “This is Bob. You know each other, right?” Me and Robert, sorry, Bob said hello. Bob’s flicker of recognition at me and also me knowing Surfsuit was a delight. He seemed both nervous but I sensed a new attitude. “You two should get better acquainted, I’m sure you have lots to talk about. Shared interests and connections, you could say.”

I was turned on beyond belief. Bob looked so fucking horny. He was also both surprised and yet cheeky. Surfsuit then said “Why don’t the three of us go elsewhere, somewhere quieter. I’m sure Bob would like get to know his brothers a little better.”

And that was it. The three of us went into a cubicle where Surfsuit and I spit-roasted Bob, our new brother. Bob turned to me and said “You didn’t tell me you were a pozpig.” I replied “You never asked.”

As the club entered into the last hour, Bob and I decided to leave and headed to the cloakroom. I gently unzipped his arse, and stuck my finger into his cummy and now poz hole and asked him if he fancied coming back to my flat for a ‘nightcap’.

“Yes, brother.” He replied.

This is such a hot story. I always wanted to run into a similar situation. Had a co-worker who would tell his secmx encounter stories, but never acted on meeting up with me and I never saw him out. I knew he was poz and I wanted him to breed me and feed me food he stuffed up his dirty ass. 

[rublthlad]

Got hooked on this story straight away, and love the supplements