Binned

[chunkychains]

The London housing market being what it is, I had purchased a slightly strange modern townhouse that had been wedged into part of another property’s land. I had seen some flats in converted Victorian and Edwardian houses that had been nice enough, but this place afforded me the opportunity to have an actual house (of sorts), which was completely detached and therefore I would not have to worry about noise from above, below or through the walls. It was sort of down the side of an end-of-terrace house on a side street off a main road, and most of the rooms looked out over the small garden that had been carved out from the fairly large one belonging to the older house. However, next to me on one side was a large concrete sort-of-car park behind the shops of the main road, which was strangely empty most of the time. Attractive it was not, but downstairs only the bathroom (with high frosted windows) and the cupboard-lined wall of the galley kitchen faced in that direction. Upstairs was a different story, as that side of the house featured the ‘second bedroom’. This was actually a long and thin box room that would only ever be able to accommodate a particularly narrow single bed or a cot, and I had decided early on just to forego any attempts at making it suitable for a guest in favour of buying a good sofa bed for the living room downstairs. I instead used the box room as a well-appointed home office, with some storage built in for other stuff that did not fit elsewhere. Despite the unattractive vista, the room had bizarrely been built with floor to ceiling windows, as well as a ‘Juliet’ balcony with a sliding door.

Being a freelancer, I worked from home most of the time, so I was in that room for a good chunk of the day. There wasn’t much to distract me outside, except for around 45 minutes in the late morning of every day. At that time, a bin lorry would pull in and park up close to my house. This was clearly break time, as the crew would usually all head off somewhere together (I suspected the greasy spoon cafe on the main road). I would notice the truck pull in most days, or at least see that it was now sitting out there, but really never thought anything more of it. That ended, however, on a sunny summer day when I just happened to notice that one member of the crew did not follow the rest of them off to wherever they went, and instead sat down on the step of the open truck door. He caught my attention because I am an absolute sucker for nice arms, and he had taken the opportunity to remove his gloves and then roll up his T-shirt sleeves to catch some rays on his impressive biceps. He looked to be in his early twenties, which only added to the appeal. My gaze lingered as he lit up a cigarette and just sat there smoking it, before stubbing it out and then reaching behind him for a paper bag that evidently contained a sandwich and a drink. He mostly just seemed to be staring at the ground through all this, but then suddenly he looked up at me. I looked away towards my screen, but could not help but glance back a moment later and found that he was still staring at me. Like an idiot I instinctively gave a little wave, but he didn’t react and just kept looking at me. I turned back to my screen, but could feel myself getting hot and flustered. I tried to focus, but when I made out like I was just turning round to get something, I allowed myself a quick glance to confirm he was still looking up at me. This was too much, and so I got up and left the room, going downstairs to drink a glass of water and wait it out until the truck had left.

The next day they were of course back, and once again the hunky young man stayed with the lorry for his break. This time he removed his hi-viz vest and T-shirt entirely, placing them on the steps so he could lean back more comfortably in the sun, his legs splayed wide as he lit up a cigarette. I couldn’t take my eyes away, until he of course looked up at me. I managed to hold my ground a bit longer this time, but there was something so overwhelming about this guy at least ten years my junior staring at me like a panicking gay in a fishbowl. I had to retreat again, cursing myself for being so flappable.

This carried on for the rest of the week, though I managed to stay in my office longer each time, and actually make eye contact with him a few more times without melting. Still, it was a relief when the weekend came, as while a bin lorry still showed up there on both days, it was a different crew and all of them went off together as had previously been the norm. The next week, however, the stud was back and resuming whatever it was he was doing with me. I started praying for the weather to turn so that he might give me a break from the daily torture. On the Thursday I finally got my wish, with cloudy skies and a bit of a breeze, and sure enough he didn’t taunt me with a flagrant display of his incredible body. Indeed, I saw him stick around as the other guys walked off, but when I looked back up again a couple of minutes later, he was also gone and I assumed he’d just gone off to the shops or something. Then my doorbell rang, so I headed downstairs assuming it was the Amazon delivery I was expecting. When I opened the door, however, I came face to face with the hunky binman.

“Alright” he said.

“Oh, er, hi” I stuttered.

“I forgot a drink” he said, holding out an empty water bottle. “Can I fill up here?”

“Er, yeah, sure” I said, taking it off him and turning round to go and quickly sort it in the kitchen.

Despite the boots he was wearing I did not hear him following me through the hallway, so I was a bit startled when I turned to the sink and saw him standing in the kitchen doorway out of the side of my eye. I quickly filled the bottle and then went over to hand it to him.

“Thanks mate” he said.

“Er, no problem” I said, still flustered.

“See you every day” he said. “We do the same main roads all week, and them estates that need a daily.”

“Oh, right” I said.

“Nice place you got” he continued.

“Thanks” I replied.

“You can blow me if you want” he said.

“What?!” I squeaked.

“Seen you gawping at me” he replied, grinning. “Figured you wanted to suck my cock.”

“I, er, wh…” I stuttered.

“You wanna?” he asked, moving his free hand to clutch his groin through his uniform.

I just stood there, frozen on the spot, but then found myself looking down at his hand as he squeezed his crotch. Despite my brain screaming at me, I instinctively grazed my lips with my tongue, causing him to laugh out loud.

“Knew it!” he said. “But be quick, I ain’t got long.”

My brain shut off at this point and something else took over, as I lowered myself down to my knees while he undid his button and zip. I leaned forward and gripped the hem of his boxers, pulling them down with his shorts as his erect cock sprang up, leaning slightly to his left. A musky, sweaty, manly smell emanated from him, and I hungrily dived forward and took his cock into my mouth. I sucked on it quite gingerly for a minute, and then began to swallow it down, using all the tricks I knew to control my gag reflex. There was an urgency to the way I serviced him, and his moans and groans spurred me on. In no time at all he gripped my head and began to thrust a little while I continued bobbing back and forth, and then he yelled as he slammed me onto his cock a final time and unloaded down my throat.

When he released his grip I pulled back, settling my arse back on my heels as I reached up to wipe the sweat off my face. He quickly pulled up his trunks and shorts, did up the button, and then turned around.

“Thanks mate” he said, walking down my hallway, “that was awesome.”

Then he was gone, with me still kneel-sitting on the hard kitchen floor getting my breath back. I had been thoroughly used, taken advantage of, and yet I fucking loved it.

 

——————

 

The next day my heart raced when I heard the truck pull up outside. I gave it a couple of minutes before looking out, by which time I could see the crew just leaving the car park whilst the hunky stud was leaning against the door smoking. He was looking up at me, and when our eyes met he smiled and winked. This time I held his gaze and smiled back, at which point he nodded, put the cigarette between his lips, got the keys out of his pocket and then locked the truck’s door. He set off along the side of my house towards an opening in the fence, and I realised I was in for another workout. I hurried downstairs and opened my front door a little, stepping back into the hallway to wait. Sure enough the door opened and he came inside, closing it behind him. He turned towards me, gave me a big grin and a wink, and then leant back against the front door and undid his shorts. I rushed forward onto my knees, and soon enough the events of the day before were being repeated. I swallowed him completely, and then as I moved myself back and forth he put one of his hands on my head and just allowed me to lead things while his fingers tousled my hair a little. Only when he got close did his grip become tighter, taking over the speed until he pulled me completely onto him and held me in place as he unloaded down my throat. Then, as with before, he got himself done up while I sat against my heels getting my breath back. He was gone in moments, but not before another big grin and a wink.

The following week he was at my door on schedule all five days, having me blow him in my hallway. I had set up fake appointments in my diary so there would be no issue with being away from my desk late morning, and I had even thought to put one of the sofa cushions at the bottom of the stairs so I would be more comfortable kneeling than I was directly against the laminated floor. I was being completely used, and yet I did not have a complaint to make about it.

“Doing weekend overtime tomorrow” he said, as he zipped up his shorts on the Friday post-orgasm. “Different round though, so won’t be here for break.”

“OK” I said. “Next week I guess then.”

“Nah” he said. “I wanna fuck that arse of yours, so was thinking I’d come round after my shift.”

“Oh” I said, getting up from the floor, as flustered as when he had first turned up here.

“Will be about three” he said. “You get fucked, right?”

I just slowly nodded.

“Cool” he said. “Be ready then.”

With that, he was gone.

 

——————

 

In preparation for the upping of the ante, I was douched, showered, wearing a jockstrap under my shorts, and had a buttplug inserted after loosening myself up with a dildo. I doubted there would be anything close to foreplay, so I wanted to make sure I could enjoy the quick and complete entry he was likely to make into me. When he turned up, he had definitely worked a full shift as his musky, sweaty scent was particularly potent, which had much the same effect on me as a big huff of poppers would have done.

“Fucking horny mate” he said, after closing the front door. “Need to fuck a load into you.”

I led him through to the living area at the back, where I had already put a towel down on the sofa. I stripped down to just my jock, pulled out the buttplug and threw it down on the floor, and then climbed onto the sofa on my knees so I was leaning against the back of it with my head against the wall. He had also stripped down so he was just in his stinky T-shirt, and he immediately positioned himself behind me and pushed his cock against my hole. I was about to ask for a condom when he pushed in and the whole length snaked into my rectum, taking my breath away. As soon as he was in, he began to fuck me with a firm and steady rhythm, the dirtiness of it making my head swim as his girthy cock rubbed my prostate and sent me to heaven. I could not help but moan in appreciation as he pistoned in and out, until he was slamming into me relentlessly. Then he thrust one final time, held his hips against my arse, and flooded me with his load.

He held in place until he had fully come down from the orgasm, and then slid out of me and stepped back. I whirled around and slid off the sofa onto my knees, leaning forward to gently clean off his cock so I got every last drop of the load. Then I turned and reached for the paper towels I had put on the sofa, using them to wipe what was dripping out of me as well as what was already on the floor under me. He had put his shorts back on, albeit his boxers were still on the floor. I got to my feet and went over to the sink, chucking the towels in the bin under it before giving my hands a quick wash. I then got a couple of glasses out from the cupboard above and filled them up with cold water, handing one to him while I drank the other.

“I need a cigarette” he said, starting to walk towards the back door. I hurriedly pulled on my own shorts, but remained topless as I grabbed a saucer from a cupboard and followed him out to provide him with the makeshift ashtray.

“Want one?” he asked, pointing the packet at me. I had quit five years before and yet still took one, popped it in my mouth and then allowed him to light it.

“Nice place” he said. “Private.”

“That’s how I like it” I said, my head swimming from my first inhale.

“Cool” he said, grinning.

We engaged in the beginnings of a conversation for a couple of minutes while we smoked, but we were soon done and he started to go back inside.

“Your shower upstairs?” he asked. “Need to clean up before I fuck you in your bed.”

His brazenness quietly astounded me, but I was putty in his hands. I nodded, and he started heading down the hallway towards the stairs. I followed him, but stopped by the cupboard under the staircase to grab a clean towel for him. I hurried upstairs after him, glad I had thought to put anything valuable in a box in the tiny loft space before he got here. He had got as far as my bedroom, and as I chucked the towel down on the bed next to him, he peeled off his T-shirt and pulled down his shorts. My breath caught in my throat, as for the first time ever I saw his naked buttocks. I knew it was the first time ever, because it was the only place he had tattoos and I had definitely never seen them before. A huge biohazard on one, and a big chunky plus sign on the other…

[onlyraw]

Fuck … hot story …. I hope it is only the first chapter of many

[chunkychains]

I just stood rooted to the ground as he disappeared into the ensuite, followed by the sounds of the shower starting. Holy shit. Why the fuck had I not insisted on a condom? Why the fuck was I no longer on prep? Why the fuck was my dick getting so hard?

“Are you poz?” I asked, when he re-emerged, his skin glistening wet.

“Yes mate” he said, before vigorously rubbing his short, jet-black hair with the towel. “Riddled with it” he finished, as he lowered the towel leaving his damp hair sexily tousled.

“Oh” I said.

“You on prep?” he asked.

“No” I said.

“Probably should be mate” he said, grinning at me.

“Yeah” I whispered.

“Anyway” he said, rubbing the towel under his groin before chucking it on the floor, “I want to fuck you missionary this time.”

I knew that the chances increased with multiple exposures, and yet I still found myself climbing onto the bed, lying down on my back, and then lifting my legs in readiness. He got on the bed too, pushed my legs back over me with one arm, and then used his other to get his cock to my hole so he could start pushing in. The only lube I got was what was left in me from before, plus the remains of his previous load, but I bore down on his dick and soon he was fully in me. He leaned forward as he released my legs from under his arm, and I spread them out around him. He gave me a grin, and then began to thrust in and out. Despite knowing what I was now taking, I was rock hard and totally his to use.

Virtually the whole time his eyes were locked on mine, and I somehow held his gaze as he fucked me. His green eyes were hypnotising, so despite the intensity of him staring at me, I did not want to look away. With each thrust in and out of me, waves of both pain and pleasure rippled through my whole body, but unlike our first fuck downstairs I stayed silent. He had not been vocal downstairs and nor was he for this second rutting, the effort of fucking me only evident from his breathing. It was absolutely the most intense sex I had ever experienced.

He fucked me for quite a long time, before eventually accelerating towards his final thrust into me, unloading a second poz load deep within my hole. Feeling his cock throbbing inside me - and knowing what it meant - sent me over the edge, and without ever touching my cock I spontaneously blew over my stomach. He broke our uninterrupted eye contact to look down at the cum dripping out of my cock, then looked back up at me and grinned, while still breathing heavily.

“You liked that, huh?” he asked.

“Yes” I panted.

He stayed in position for a couple more minutes, before slowly pulling out of me. He pushed himself over onto his back next to me, and I lowered my legs to the mattress. We lay there for a little while, neither saying anything, before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed with his back to me.

“Need a piss and a cigarette” he said, getting up and padding off to the bathroom.

As I listened to him peeing, I hauled myself up as well, noticing how wet the duvet was from a combination of sweat and cum. I didn’t care though, and just focused on grabbing a couple of tissues from the box on the bedside table to wipe up what was dripping out of my arse as well as my own load from my stomach. I then slowly pulled on my shorts, and sat back down on the end of the bed. The stud emerged a moment later, shaking his hands dry before grabbing his own shorts and pulling them on. I got up and headed for the door to go back downstairs with him following me, and we were soon outside smoking a couple of cigarettes. This time we stayed out there in the sun, other than me popping inside to get two bottles of cold beer from the fridge, and we began to quietly chat as we enjoyed the drinks and a couple more cigarettes. I found out he was called Damian, he was 23, and while he was clearly an expert top who liked to take charge, sometimes when drunk or high he liked to bottom out and get loaded up by any man who happened to be around. This was how he had got pozzed, which he didn’t really care about and actually liked how free it helped him feel.

He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, nor did I have anything I was planning to do, so I just let the afternoon and evening play out on his terms. That involved going upstairs again so I could lie on my front while he fucked a third load into me, ordering in some Deliveroo to eat in the garden with a few more beers, and then moving back to the sofa where I rode him in a couple of positions to get load number four into me. After some quick showers we went out to the supermarket on the main road to get in some more beers and cigarettes, and then load number five was fucked into me as I was bent over the kitchen table. A prolonged break for drinks outside followed, before we moved upstairs, he got me on my side, positioned himself behind me, and then slid into me for a long and gentle sixth breeding. He remained in me as we fell asleep, and I woke at some point in the early hours as he gently began thrusting into me again to deliver a seventh dose of his toxic seed. Somehow he mustered up an eighth load into the morning, with me on all fours on the mattress groaning like a madman. Then, with a quick shower and a cup of coffee, he was gone.

I spent part of Sunday researching my options for PEP, resolving to go to a clinic first thing on Monday to sort myself out. Yet, when it came

to it, I faltered and allowed myself to get distracted with some client emails. The time ticked on, and at around 10.30am I could not help but give myself a clean out and then stick in a buttplug, unsure if he would be at my door later that morning. Of course, shortly after the bin lorry pulled up, my doorbell rang and there he was, grinning as always. I was soon bent over the stairs with him ramming into me, before getting down on my knees to clean up his cock once he had unloaded in me. That visit to the clinic never happened, but the bin crew breaktime routine was repeated throughout that working week.

“You got plans tonight?” Damian asked me, as he zipped up his shorts on the Friday.

“No” I said.

“Cool” he replied. “OK if I come round later then?”

“Sure” I said, smiling at him.

This time my fridge was fully loaded with beers and ready-to-eat food, and I picked up a few packets of cigarettes as well. I left piles of tissues and packets of lube all round the house, and put a pile of clean towels out on the bed for him to use if he wanted to shower. When he turned up again around 4pm, grizzling slightly about having been sent off to finish another crew’s round, his grin returned as he saw how well prepared I was for his visit. He rewarded me for my efforts with a really great fuck on the sofa, and then we settled down outside for a couple of beers. He was relaxed and chatty, and I started to realise that he actually kind of liked me, being genuinely interested when I talked about my life or work. He never pushed the poz conversation, though was happy to answer questions about what it was like converting or whatever. He told me he was closeted at work on all fronts, but outside of that he was open about it all, including with his mum and brothers. He lived alone in a bedsit near the waste depot, being a bit vague about why he wasn’t still living with his mum, particularly as his hookups were always at the other guy’s house, in a club, or out in some woods or equivalent. I was a little taken aback when he said I was the only guy he was hooking up with at the moment, having assumed he must be finding fun elsewhere after his shift, but it turned out he was doing some extra work with a mate on some landscaping most afternoons to earn a bit more money that left him knackered by the evenings, so his late morning visits to me were currently his whole sex life.

We went upstairs after that, so he could shower and then take me doggy style on the bed. When he blew inside me he collapsed forward, and I splayed down to be lying flat on my front with him on my back. He didn’t pull out, instead just lying there getting his breath back. Even when he had calmed down he stayed there, and then I felt him start to nuzzle me a bit. I moved my head to give him better access to the side of my neck, and he started kissing and licking my skin more deeply. After a few moments of this he gave a tentative push forward with his body, and in no time he was thrusting into my cum-filled hole again while he continued kissing my neck. With his weight on me, my hole sending out waves of pleasure, the soft tickling and kissing on my skin, and his heavy breathing close to my ear, I closed my eyes and began to feel like all there was in the universe was him and me, something I had never experienced even in the two significant relationships I’d had in my twenties. This continued even as he blew in me, and only ended when he started to lift himself up and pull out. I just laid on my front as he went to take a piss, basking in the afterglow of an incredible fuck.

“You get me so fucking hot” he said, as he came back out of the bathroom and stopped to look at me.

“Likewise” I replied, turning my head to face him.

He gave me a big grin, before indicating it was time for a cigarette. I wearily hauled myself up and threw on some shorts, and then we went downstairs and out to the garden, stopping briefly to open some beers. This time we just sat in silence in the garden, sharing glances and smiling at each other occasionally, with him reaching over with his foot to gently rub mine at one point. Then we were back inside, and I bent over the kitchen table and wiggled my arse at him as seductively as I could manage. He came up behind me and pulled down my shorts, and then surprised me by squatting down and planting his face between my cheeks. He gave me an expert rim job that had me holding a hand over my mouth to stifle the moans, and then he was standing back up and pushing into me. As he gently fucked me he rubbed my back, and I arched it while often looking back at him as he thrust in and out. Feeling so ludicrously turned on, I then reached for the cigarettes on the table, popped two in my mouth and lit them, before passing one back to him. This was my house, and I wanted to smoke with this sexy fucker while he gave me what I needed. He looked so hot with the cigarette perched between his lips, his facial expression reflecting the focus and effort he was putting into reaming me out, and I also seriously got off on the nicotine high I was experiencing while I was fucked. I think he sensed I was about as turned on as I ever had been, as he paused quite a few times to prevent his orgasm so he could make it all last longer.

Once he finally lost control and his load was deposited, he went over to the sofa to collapse rather than back out into the garden. I got us both some beers as well as a saucer for an ashtray, and sat down beside him. It was only when he spoke that I realised he had deliberately remained indoors so we could talk about something he maybe sensed I might be reluctant to address in potential earshot of the neighbours.

“You didn’t go on prep, did you?” he asked.

“No” I said. “I meant to get some PEP on Monday and then see about the other stuff, but ended up douching and plugging myself so I’d be ready for you again.”

“It’s probably too late now” he said.

“I know” I replied.

“So you OK with me pozzing you then?” he asked.

“More than OK with it” I said, realising the truth for the first time as I spoke it out loud. “I want you to convert me.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes” I said. “I guess I’ve only just realised it, but I like that you’re not just breeding me but also giving me something extra.”

He reached over and gently laid his hand on my thigh, rubbing it a little bit.

“Good” he said. “‘Cos I want to keep fucking you.”

“Yeah?” I replied.

“Yeah” he said.

He sat still for a moment, before leaning forward and putting his beer on the narrow coffee table. He reached over and took my beer from me to do the same with it, and then he swivelled his body up and over mine so he was straddling my lap facing me. He looked down into my eyes for a moment, before slowly leaning in. I closed my eyes as his lips met mine, and allowed him to lead as he began to kiss me deeper. I put my arms behind him and rubbed his back, and then ran one up to behind his head so I could pull him in tighter. Our dicks were hardening as we kissed, but we just kept at it for quite a long time rather than giving into the need to fuck again. Eventually he pulled back, and just stared down at me again.

“Fuck” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“You” he said. “You was supposed to just be some lunchtime head.”

“I was?” I asked, smiling at him.

“Yeah” he said, “but now I just want to take you upstairs and fuck you all night.”

“Then get to it stud” I said, winking at him and eliciting another of his intoxicating grins.

Aside from some breaks for food, drink and cigarettes, that’s what he did. In every position imaginable, he impaled and fucked me, adding load after load of poz seed to my welcoming hole. Our mouths were often locked together as he railed me, and I came hands-free several times from the thrill of it all. Throughout Saturday he stuck around, with sex, naps, and even some cuddling on the sofa in front of Netflix filling the time. I got to enjoy watching him do press-ups, crunches and other exercises on the kitchen floor a couple of times, and also found out how much he enjoyed being rimmed. Late on the Saturday as we prepared for a pre-sleep fuck, he took my cock into his mouth and swallowed it, starting to show me that he was willing to take as well as give. He didn’t leave until late on Sunday morning, and I took to my bed to catch up on some sleep once he was gone.

When I woke up, however, I was sweating and a bit unstable, and immediately knew what was probably happening. We had exchanged mobile numbers before he’d left, so I just sent him a text message with the emojis for sick and biohazard, before collapsing back into bed. I was woken early evening by my doorbell, and after a lot of effort I made it downstairs and cracked open the door to see Damian standing there with a big rucksack in one hand and a Tesco carrier bag in the other. I opened it wider to let him in, before I slid down onto the stairs. He dumped his things in the hallway before helping me get back upstairs, and once I lay down on the bed I passed out.

[chunkychains]

It was Thursday when I became aware of what day it was for the first time, and sitting up in bed I saw Damian’s rucksack leaning against the wall. On the bedside tables were some bottles of water and lucozade, along with a few packets of tablets. Needing the loo I wearily got up and headed into the bathroom, and only noticed as I dried my hands that there were now two bath towels hanging on the rail side by side. As I came back into the bedroom and looked around, it was clear that Damian had been staying here. I put on some pyjamas and went downstairs, finding there was a glass by the sink but the place was otherwise tidy. I opened the dishwasher to see it had been recently run, full of pans and crockery I had not used recently, and then when I opened the fridge I saw it was full of food and drinks. I glanced outside to see a rather full ashtray sitting on the table, and a drying rack out with a load of my clothes hanging on it plus some that I figured must be his. Yes, he had definitely been staying here, and he had been looking after both the place as well as me apparently. Despite being so lacking in energy, my heart still managed a little flutter.

I grabbed a glass of water and slumped down on the sofa, where I sat for a little while trying to rehydrate. I still felt pretty rough, but had no interest in going back upstairs as I had aches in my body consistent with having been in bed for too long. It was while I was sitting there that the front door opened, and Damian came in dressed in his hi-viz uniform and clutching a full Sainsbury’s bag.

“Oh” he said, seeing me as he walked into the kitchen. “You’re up.”

“Yeah” I croaked.

“Man, you look so much better” he said, standing in front of me. “You were pretty fucking rough before.”

“Have you been here?” I asked.

“All week” he said. “Hope that’s OK. Thought I better look out for you.”

“Oh” I said.

“I saw you had two sets of keys by the door” he continued, “so I’ve been using one of them.”

He held the keys out to me to take, but I waved them away.

“That’s OK” I said. “I mean, I can’t believe you stayed. Thank you.”

“I did this to you” he said. “Was fucking rough being on my own when it happened to me, so I wanted to look out for you.”

I smiled up at him, then patted the sofa next to me. He sat down, and I leaned over onto him. He put his arm round me, and I closed my eyes for a bit as we sat in silence.

“You hungry?” he whispered after a while.

“A little” I said, sitting up.

The next few minutes I just watched him sorting us both out some plates of plain toast with a few cut up vegetables, before I hauled myself to the dining table. He made me drink a glass of something that had extra electrolytes in it for hydration, and then helped me move outside to sit in the sun for a bit for some much-needed vitamin D. Soon I was tired again and he took me back upstairs to rest, leaving me to it once I was settled in bed while he went back downstairs. When I woke up again later I felt quite a bit better than before, and after settling me on the sofa with another electrolyte drink and some biscuits, Damian went up to shower and change. He then joined me downstairs, and we sat outside in the warm evening air while we chatted and he smoked. Listening to him just talking about life ‘on the bins’ I realised how much I liked having him around, how wrong it turned out I had been to hide valuables in the loft, and what a complete departure this had all been from what had started as a quick and dirty blowjob in my hallway that first time he had come round. He wasn’t at all the person he made out he was when he had first started pursuing me.

I got back to full health over the next couple of days, with Damian continuing to just run the house without ever giving me the impression he had any problem with that. Laundry got done, the bed got changed, food continued to be bought, and he just took really good care of me around his work shifts. Then, on the Friday afternoon, he said it was time to go off to a clinic to confirm things, and with butterflies in my stomach I went with him to a health centre a short bus ride away. He brought me back later after my positive result, and got us some beers as we sat in the garden. He stayed silent, letting me be the first to speak.

“It feels kind of right” I eventually said, after lighting up a cigarette. “I mean, my brain is all over the place a bit, but I’m not upset about it.”

“Same for me” he said. “Thought loads about telling people and shit like that, but never got angry or nothing.”

“How old were you?” I asked, realising he had never told me that part.

“Just turned 20” he said. “Went out with my mates on my 18th, but lost them in a club. We were so fucked up. Then I was out in the alley at the back getting fucked for the first time. Just kept taking loads sometimes after that. Almost can’t believe it took two whole years to get pozzed.”

“Wow” I said. “I was always safe before. Only barebacked with my second boyfriend, and we were both on prep.”

“Why did you stop taking it?” he asked.

“Don’t know” I replied, “I just did. When he dumped me I think I just lost confidence or something. Only hooked up with a couple of guys since then, and the last one was a year ago.”

“You serious?!” he asked, wide eyed.

“Yeah” I said. “Focused on buying this place and making it how I wanted it, plus my work.”

“But no sex for a whole year?!” he asked again.

“Only wanking and dildos” I replied, smirking at him.

“Fucking hell” he said. “No wonder you were so hungry for my cock.”

I laughed out loud, before catching myself when I realised the neighbours could probably hear everything if they were outside too. Then I felt myself think ‘fuck it, so what?’, deciding not to usher us indoors. We carried on chatting, before a slightly serious look took over his face and he went quiet.

“Listen” he said. “You make me fucking hot, and I mean it. I know you probably had me down as some fucking fantasy, slumming it with a stinky bin man, but I like you.”

“I like you too” I said, smiling at him.

“No, I mean, I like you” he said, his face scrunching up a bit.

I leaned over and put my hand on his.

“I know what you’re saying” I said, “and I like you that way too. Yeah, at first it was fun being your dirty lunchtime whore to use, but we both know it isn’t that anymore.”

He nodded, but still looked serious.

“I don’t want to hurt you” he eventually said.

“OK” I replied, waiting to see where this was going.

“I mean, I want to keep doing this” he continued, “but I think I need other stuff too.”

“You mean you want to fuck other guys?” I said, giving him a smile even though he wasn’t looking at me.

“Sort of” he said. “I mean, I think I just want it to be you I fuck, but I want to get fucked too.”

“I do top” I said, “but I get what you’re saying.”

“And?” he asked.

“Well” I said, “I reckon there’s no point in me being pozzed up and free if I can’t have some fun with it, so I think I want to get back out there too and have some fun.”

He looked up at me with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Yeah” I replied, smiling. “How about you show me these places you go to get loaded up.”

His big grin returned, and I leaned over to him. He leaned in too and we planted our lips on each others, kissing deeply. We hardened as we made out, and eventually went back inside and up to bed. He fucked me hard and bred me, but then after a rest he got on all fours and stared into my eyes. That first time topping him was incredible, his lean and muscular body aching for the feel of me inside of him, and as I sped up to the peak he cried out for me to give him my first ever poz load.

 

——————

 

He may be ten years my junior and from a completely different background, but it just works. He is tidy, organised, never complains, and keeps me satisfied with both fucking and affection. The bedsit is long gone, with him fitting right into this small and strange house with me. He buys in food and other household stuff sometimes, but I refused any assistance on the mortgage or bills so that he could stop having to exhaust himself with landscaping work in the afternoons. I didn’t realise how insecure he had actually felt before given how relaxed he always came off, but with the threat of going broke at any moment now gone, he’s using his extra free time to work towards getting his HGV licence so he can apply to become a driver instead of a loader. He likes where he works, saying it feels like a properly useful thing that everyone needs, and I do often envy him as I find myself dealing with client bullshit that just seems so pointless.

He’s opened up over the last couple of years, revealing some of the darker times he had endured, first with his fireman father dying in service when he was eight, and the stepdad that followed beating him senseless after finding a copy of Attitude in the room he shared with his younger brother. His mum had kicked her second husband to the kerb for that, and Damian had repaid her by putting some effort in to helping her run the house. But a third husband eventually followed, and Damian had decided to get away for his own space rather than risk more problems, even if he struggled day to day to actually afford it. In short, he had lived a lot of life already, which is probably one of the reasons why we worked well together despite the age gap. As he settled in to living with me, he gradually let himself unwind from all the stress he had endured, and his relaxed and smiley demeanour became more natural than it had been before. I, in turn, relaxed into him, shedding the baggage of being dumped twice by men I loved, and losing all traces of how uptight I had become.

Fridays or Saturdays are when we usually go off for some fun elsewhere, and I have really taken to that world. He doesn’t have individual hookups anymore, instead choosing which sauna, club or park we’re going to head for to see what we can get up to together. At clubs or saunas we often roam around individually at least some of the time, but when we go to an al fresco venue we always end up bent over next to each other and I just fucking love it. Making out with him while we get used by a bunch of strangers is the best.

I now proudly sport a large biohazard tramp stamp, and am also getting cool designs on my upper arms gradually filled in. The pig in me has really come out, with thick silver hoops in each nipple along with a heavy gauge Prince Albert that I rarely remove. Damian hasn’t added anything else permanent to his own body, but when off the clock he now dazzles in a massive silver chain and matching bracelets that I bought him for his 25th birthday. He was really hesitant about them at first, not because he didn’t like them but because he’s got a real bee in his bonnet about this not being some stereotypical sugar daddy situation between us. Fortunately I managed to convince him that this was just me finally giving him a gift to reflect the one he had given me, and that the bling was going to be in lieu of us being able to holiday anywhere that year given I in no way make enough money to be a sugar daddy. Satisfied, he had put it all on, sprung an immediate hard-on and then fucked me senseless, and even now when he sometimes dons it all after his post-shift shower it makes him so horny that I end up getting roughly fucked and bred. I am often bent over my laptop still sending emails while he ploughs into me. That said, we are a bit more versatile at home now, with him wanting me to penetrate him when he’s either having a relapse of his past insecurity, or if he just wants my piercing to be doing a number on his insides.

The one thing that has stayed constant is the bin round breaktime routine. Even if my hole is still throbbing from an early morning rutting before he headed off to work, without fail in the late morning of every weekday, I am to be found bent over the stairs in our hallway taking one hell of a pounding. His sweaty mid-shift scent and hi-viz vest do it for me every time, and we both love these regular throwbacks to where it all started. 

Damian came into my life, binned it, and made me who I am today. This, my friends, is what true love is all about…

[austin_submale]

Your best work yet chunkychains

[Tanbbottom]

Great story 

[viking8x6]

marvelous!