Jeimuzu
The Ire Brigade
Not my first story, but my first here. Hope you enjoy! And no, the name does not imply bestiality. However, there is rimming, barebacking, a bit of BDSM, and probably some other things I didn't mention.
Oh, and this hasn't been proofread, so any plot mistakes, or spelling/grammar issues... well, tough.
Enjoy!
Rex
“I appreciate my privacy, so get the fuck out of my house.”
What can I say? I’m not a ‘people person’. That, by the way, was my on-off girlfriend. I think I just dumped her again. I do it every time I fancy hooking up with a guy instead of a girl, for once. She cheats on me, so I fuck about with guys all the time. She’ll be back, begging for another shag, she always is. Her name’s Amanda, but she’d rather I call her Black Princess.
I call her Mandy.
I can’t stand her, though. I only keep her around because fucking is easier than wanking.
Maybe a bit of a background is needed?
My name is Christian. I’m a teenage Goth (19 years of age), and I really don’t like the sun. No, really, I’m pale as fuck. I’m possibly the only person who could get sunburn while covering 100% of my skin, in the winter, on a cloudy day in Scotland. But then again, other teenage Goths probably say the same thing.
I live on my own ever since I basically walked out of my parents’ house a couple of years ago. They were nice enough parents, but completely aloof and old fashioned. I still talk to them every now and again, but I couldn't have stayed there, they’d just not understand people like me. Oh, woe is me. Don’t I feel all emo… (Ooh, feel the sarcasm!)
I have a nice flat, and a series of jobs turn up every now and again, meaning I can pay my rent pretty much always, because most of my money goes into the account for it, so I always have some spare.
Mandy runs off crying out of my front door, whereas I simply gaze after her through half lidded eyes covered in yesterdays slightly smeared eyeliner. It occurs to me that the neighbours can see me butt-naked, so I shut the door hurriedly and go to sit on my couch.
Fuck, I’m tired. What time is it again?
12:00 dead. Damn it, I’m needed in some job interview in an hour or so. Probably need to set off now…
Getting up from the sofa, groaning to myself, I stumble to my shabby as hell bathroom. It’s my fault it’s shabby, hair has been dyed here far too often (Although I stopped a while back, so now my hair’s back to its natural blond), and there’s empty bottles everywhere. I wash off the make up, and make to stumble into my room, where I throw on my interview clothes. A pair of clean black jeans that haven’t gone grey yet, and a white button up shirt that I only just bought, so it’s pretty devoid of cigarette burns. I catch myself in the mirror, and quickly brush my hair, and then gel it into some sort of semblance of spikes. Okay, good to go.
Whether I would get there in time was really a rhetorical question. I had to find some random little computer shop in London, with only 40 minutes left. Maybe I should have checked where it was… All I’d discovered was which area it was in. Hackney. Great, that narrowed it down. Christ…
Having managed to get onto the tube at ten to one, I found the shop at twenty past, which wasn’t bad by my standards. Generally small shops are better about you turning up late; when you’re being interviewed by the owner, they’re less stuck up their own arse than the usual lower-level managers that I’ve come across many times. That’s the way it’s worked out for me, anyway.
So I stumbled in, and tripped on the step. Marvelous. Now I have a mark on my only decent jeans before I’m in the interview office. As a 20-something year old man peered curiously over the counter, looking over some rather nice rimless glasses, I peered right back.
“Hi, I’m Christian, and I’m supposed to be interviewing here.” I announced, from my somewhat prone position.
“Ah.”
An awkward silence followed, and after a few seconds I realized I should really be stood up. So, I clambered to my feet and brushed dust off my knees, although that chewing gum I knelt on as I got up would take some getting off.
“Erm, so shall we be getting this done with?” I asked, after a little bit longer of that awkward silence.
He appeared to mentally shake himself and stepped from behind the counter.
“Ah yes! Sorry about that. Follow me.” He yelled an instruction to… someone… to watch the shop while he did it. In reply, a baggy looking dog trudged out to the front of the shop and sat down next to the cash-drawer.
We finally sat down, and he introduced himself as Gary. (Have you noticed how all computer people seem to be called Gary? Every other position I’ve applied for has had a techie guy called Gary) We seemed to hit it off in a mild way. That helps, when the interviewer is the person who you’ll be working with.
However, since I didn’t really come across as that punctual, or anything, he was still a little cautious. So, I set about building a… atmosphere of camaraderie, so to speak.
In other words, I saw him look at me after I’d fallen over. Okay, so he wasn’t awed by my grace but I *knew* he wanted me. He couldn’t fucking think for at least three minutes! I suspect he’d been a little deprived in that department for a while. Good looking, but shy.
Under the table, I rubbed my foot against his, while he was still talking Health and Safety, or something equally mundane. He stopped in the middle of a word, and froze. A slight push back against my ankle made me smile. Yep, he’s definitely up for it.
I stood up and sat on the table, very close to him now.
“C’mon, Gary. Let’s not beat around the bush here; You want me, I can tell. Gaydar’s a wonderful thing.”
He stuttered out an excuse, which made me laugh.
“No, no,” I smiled. ”I’m quite glad you want me, Gary. So, no need to make excuses.”
I rested my hand on his shoulder and slowly rubbed his arm. He closed his eyes, and I swiveled so I was facing him, where he was basically sat between my legs, facing me.
I pulled off my shirt and kicked off my shoes and socks, and with my now bare feet, lightly stroked his crotch. Christ was he hard. I don’t think I’ve felt anything quite so hard in my life. His eyes jerked open, and feasted on my bare chest. He lifted his hand, slowly, as if he wanted to touch me, but not sure if he was allowed. I grabbed his hand, and brought it to one of my nipple rings.
“Go on, tug it, please… It feels so damn good.”
In a trance, he did so and lightly twisted. I groaned and moaned, and by now, since my crotch was fairly close to his face, he could see my massive boner too. He reached out with his other hand, and rubbed it lightly with his palm before pressing hard into it. I jerked involuntarily, and he rubbed harder.
“OH fuck, that’s good. That’s really good… yeah…”
It was odd how suddenly the tables could turn, really. His eyes took on a steely resolve, and he stood up, grabbed my jeans and underwear at the waist, and pulled them both off me in one tug, leaving me completely naked (and so hard I was dripping precum into my bellybutton), on a desk in a random office in a small computer shop, in downtown Hackney. The hottest part was the fact that the door had a thin window in it, and thus could be seen into from the shop, if anyone chose to come in.
He stood back and looked at me, pushing my body down flat onto the desk, and I swear I could feel his smoldering gaze on me, tracing every curve of my body… I nearly came when he looked at my cock…
He went from fully clothed to completely bare-arsed naked in three seconds. That was impressive.
Not half as impressive as his cock, though. That thing was at least an inch bigger than my respectable seven inches.
He knelt and lifted my legs, leaving my asshole exposed, and in fact facing the door – and thus, the window into the shop. Gary’s next step, from what I could see from my squinted view over my own body, was to lick his lips, and then lick mine. Not the lips on my face, either.
I grunted like a wounded animal as his rough tongue swiped over my hole, lapping up and down my crack and occasionally dipping inside my depths. This caused me to writhe so much on the desk, I nearly fell off! None of my lovers, male or female has ever done this to me before. I’d always wanted it, but none of them were willing. As soon as my shoulders lifted from the desk, he stood up, looking slightly annoyed, and slammed them both down.
“Keep still, you little wanton slut. Every time you move, I’ll pull away, and each time you do it, I’ll pull away for longer.” Oh hell, talk like that makes my cock twitch in excitement. I did my best to stay put when he started again, but after the third time I’d twitched my body he stopped altogether, stood straight, and grabbed me.
“Onto your front, you’re getting punished for not obeying orders!” He enunciated the last three words slowly and louder, emphasizing my mistake. I twisted and lay nipples down on the desk, and clung on for dear life.
Thwack! Oh Christ, he was using his belt! Oh gawd, that’s so painful… but so good… Pleasure and pain mingled freely and eddied all around my body. Each time he strapped me, I pushed into the desk, rubbing my eager cock against the cheap wood.
I heard his spit again, and the belt hit the floor. A moment later, he put his hands on my back and pressed his hot, wet, blunt cock against my hole. I pressed back, desperate to get that big rod inside my ass… and slowly, millimeter by millimeter, it slid inside.
It seemed to go on forever, my arsehole burning more and more every second. I loved it… I couldn’t get enough of his cock. When he reached the end, I groaned, because I just couldn’t get enough of it.
Then he snapped his hips back, and shoved back in, hard and fast.
I had to tightly grip my cock and balls to stop from coming right there. He misinterpreted this as an attempt to pleasure myself, however, and pulled my arms back. He held both my arms in place as he fucked me, and leaned close;
“You’re not going to come while you touch yourself, you’re gonna come without touching that sexy rod of yours. You’ll come all over my desk, and I’m not gonna clean it off. I want you to lick it off…”
Dirty talk like that sped the inevitable. I gave a yell which must have been heard from the shop, and maybe the street outside, and came all over the desk, and over my own stomach.
He grunted, and flooded my hole with his cream.
He stayed inside me while his cock softened, laid across my back. A few minutes later, I slid down onto my knees and began to lick my cum off the desk. What can I say, I’m a complete slut… especially for him. He really did have me mesmerized after sex like that. He joined me almost straight away, and our tongues twined on the sweaty, come-covered desktop. As every drop of come was cleaned away, he turned my head, and engaged me in a soul stealing kiss.
Christ…
The sex was nothing to the kiss. He pushed me back against the desk and laid across me, kissing me for several minutes, during which I’d gotten hard again. We ended up poking each other in the bellybutton with our again hard cocks. He pulled away from the kiss, and was moving down my body, when suddenly we heard a quiet bark.
We both leaped up and threw on our clothes, and strode into the shop, where there was a man looking confused.
“Don’t mind Rex there, he was just guarding the shop. Sorry about that,” said Gary, “I was just in the back office interviewing this young fellow. In fact, Christian, why don’t you try and help him out, and see how you get on. I’m here if you need me.” And with that, he strode back behind the till.
The man wanted to know about graphics cards… He eventually decided to buy the second most expensive one in the shop (Never work on persuading the customer to buy the most expensive one, sell them the cheaper one next to it. It looked like Gary had figured this out, too; He’d put them together, so the customer could see that he was buying the cheaper one) thanks to some persuasive salesmanship, and Gary rang it up on the till, giving him a ten pound discount on it (small shops can do that, which is always fun) to encourage repeat buyers. The toughest part of the sale was doing it trying to discreetly disguise my massive boner… which only got worse when I started to feel Gary’s come drip from my asshole.
After the man left the shop, Gary stepped up behind me again, and wrapping one arm around my waist, he whispered in my ear.
“You’ve got the job. How about a celebration?”
I shuddered in ecstasy, and he licked down my ear as a promise of things to come. He smiled, grabbed my hand and spun me around, before leading me back into the office. We went inside, and as an afterthought, before shutting the door, I turned and spoke to the only other soul still in the shop.
“Rex… Don’t you even think of moving…” and winked. I swear, that dog winked back.
Oh, and this hasn't been proofread, so any plot mistakes, or spelling/grammar issues... well, tough.
Enjoy!
Rex
“I appreciate my privacy, so get the fuck out of my house.”
What can I say? I’m not a ‘people person’. That, by the way, was my on-off girlfriend. I think I just dumped her again. I do it every time I fancy hooking up with a guy instead of a girl, for once. She cheats on me, so I fuck about with guys all the time. She’ll be back, begging for another shag, she always is. Her name’s Amanda, but she’d rather I call her Black Princess.
I call her Mandy.
I can’t stand her, though. I only keep her around because fucking is easier than wanking.
Maybe a bit of a background is needed?
My name is Christian. I’m a teenage Goth (19 years of age), and I really don’t like the sun. No, really, I’m pale as fuck. I’m possibly the only person who could get sunburn while covering 100% of my skin, in the winter, on a cloudy day in Scotland. But then again, other teenage Goths probably say the same thing.
I live on my own ever since I basically walked out of my parents’ house a couple of years ago. They were nice enough parents, but completely aloof and old fashioned. I still talk to them every now and again, but I couldn't have stayed there, they’d just not understand people like me. Oh, woe is me. Don’t I feel all emo… (Ooh, feel the sarcasm!)
I have a nice flat, and a series of jobs turn up every now and again, meaning I can pay my rent pretty much always, because most of my money goes into the account for it, so I always have some spare.
Mandy runs off crying out of my front door, whereas I simply gaze after her through half lidded eyes covered in yesterdays slightly smeared eyeliner. It occurs to me that the neighbours can see me butt-naked, so I shut the door hurriedly and go to sit on my couch.
Fuck, I’m tired. What time is it again?
12:00 dead. Damn it, I’m needed in some job interview in an hour or so. Probably need to set off now…
Getting up from the sofa, groaning to myself, I stumble to my shabby as hell bathroom. It’s my fault it’s shabby, hair has been dyed here far too often (Although I stopped a while back, so now my hair’s back to its natural blond), and there’s empty bottles everywhere. I wash off the make up, and make to stumble into my room, where I throw on my interview clothes. A pair of clean black jeans that haven’t gone grey yet, and a white button up shirt that I only just bought, so it’s pretty devoid of cigarette burns. I catch myself in the mirror, and quickly brush my hair, and then gel it into some sort of semblance of spikes. Okay, good to go.
Whether I would get there in time was really a rhetorical question. I had to find some random little computer shop in London, with only 40 minutes left. Maybe I should have checked where it was… All I’d discovered was which area it was in. Hackney. Great, that narrowed it down. Christ…
Having managed to get onto the tube at ten to one, I found the shop at twenty past, which wasn’t bad by my standards. Generally small shops are better about you turning up late; when you’re being interviewed by the owner, they’re less stuck up their own arse than the usual lower-level managers that I’ve come across many times. That’s the way it’s worked out for me, anyway.
So I stumbled in, and tripped on the step. Marvelous. Now I have a mark on my only decent jeans before I’m in the interview office. As a 20-something year old man peered curiously over the counter, looking over some rather nice rimless glasses, I peered right back.
“Hi, I’m Christian, and I’m supposed to be interviewing here.” I announced, from my somewhat prone position.
“Ah.”
An awkward silence followed, and after a few seconds I realized I should really be stood up. So, I clambered to my feet and brushed dust off my knees, although that chewing gum I knelt on as I got up would take some getting off.
“Erm, so shall we be getting this done with?” I asked, after a little bit longer of that awkward silence.
He appeared to mentally shake himself and stepped from behind the counter.
“Ah yes! Sorry about that. Follow me.” He yelled an instruction to… someone… to watch the shop while he did it. In reply, a baggy looking dog trudged out to the front of the shop and sat down next to the cash-drawer.
We finally sat down, and he introduced himself as Gary. (Have you noticed how all computer people seem to be called Gary? Every other position I’ve applied for has had a techie guy called Gary) We seemed to hit it off in a mild way. That helps, when the interviewer is the person who you’ll be working with.
However, since I didn’t really come across as that punctual, or anything, he was still a little cautious. So, I set about building a… atmosphere of camaraderie, so to speak.
In other words, I saw him look at me after I’d fallen over. Okay, so he wasn’t awed by my grace but I *knew* he wanted me. He couldn’t fucking think for at least three minutes! I suspect he’d been a little deprived in that department for a while. Good looking, but shy.
Under the table, I rubbed my foot against his, while he was still talking Health and Safety, or something equally mundane. He stopped in the middle of a word, and froze. A slight push back against my ankle made me smile. Yep, he’s definitely up for it.
I stood up and sat on the table, very close to him now.
“C’mon, Gary. Let’s not beat around the bush here; You want me, I can tell. Gaydar’s a wonderful thing.”
He stuttered out an excuse, which made me laugh.
“No, no,” I smiled. ”I’m quite glad you want me, Gary. So, no need to make excuses.”
I rested my hand on his shoulder and slowly rubbed his arm. He closed his eyes, and I swiveled so I was facing him, where he was basically sat between my legs, facing me.
I pulled off my shirt and kicked off my shoes and socks, and with my now bare feet, lightly stroked his crotch. Christ was he hard. I don’t think I’ve felt anything quite so hard in my life. His eyes jerked open, and feasted on my bare chest. He lifted his hand, slowly, as if he wanted to touch me, but not sure if he was allowed. I grabbed his hand, and brought it to one of my nipple rings.
“Go on, tug it, please… It feels so damn good.”
In a trance, he did so and lightly twisted. I groaned and moaned, and by now, since my crotch was fairly close to his face, he could see my massive boner too. He reached out with his other hand, and rubbed it lightly with his palm before pressing hard into it. I jerked involuntarily, and he rubbed harder.
“OH fuck, that’s good. That’s really good… yeah…”
It was odd how suddenly the tables could turn, really. His eyes took on a steely resolve, and he stood up, grabbed my jeans and underwear at the waist, and pulled them both off me in one tug, leaving me completely naked (and so hard I was dripping precum into my bellybutton), on a desk in a random office in a small computer shop, in downtown Hackney. The hottest part was the fact that the door had a thin window in it, and thus could be seen into from the shop, if anyone chose to come in.
He stood back and looked at me, pushing my body down flat onto the desk, and I swear I could feel his smoldering gaze on me, tracing every curve of my body… I nearly came when he looked at my cock…
He went from fully clothed to completely bare-arsed naked in three seconds. That was impressive.
Not half as impressive as his cock, though. That thing was at least an inch bigger than my respectable seven inches.
He knelt and lifted my legs, leaving my asshole exposed, and in fact facing the door – and thus, the window into the shop. Gary’s next step, from what I could see from my squinted view over my own body, was to lick his lips, and then lick mine. Not the lips on my face, either.
I grunted like a wounded animal as his rough tongue swiped over my hole, lapping up and down my crack and occasionally dipping inside my depths. This caused me to writhe so much on the desk, I nearly fell off! None of my lovers, male or female has ever done this to me before. I’d always wanted it, but none of them were willing. As soon as my shoulders lifted from the desk, he stood up, looking slightly annoyed, and slammed them both down.
“Keep still, you little wanton slut. Every time you move, I’ll pull away, and each time you do it, I’ll pull away for longer.” Oh hell, talk like that makes my cock twitch in excitement. I did my best to stay put when he started again, but after the third time I’d twitched my body he stopped altogether, stood straight, and grabbed me.
“Onto your front, you’re getting punished for not obeying orders!” He enunciated the last three words slowly and louder, emphasizing my mistake. I twisted and lay nipples down on the desk, and clung on for dear life.
Thwack! Oh Christ, he was using his belt! Oh gawd, that’s so painful… but so good… Pleasure and pain mingled freely and eddied all around my body. Each time he strapped me, I pushed into the desk, rubbing my eager cock against the cheap wood.
I heard his spit again, and the belt hit the floor. A moment later, he put his hands on my back and pressed his hot, wet, blunt cock against my hole. I pressed back, desperate to get that big rod inside my ass… and slowly, millimeter by millimeter, it slid inside.
It seemed to go on forever, my arsehole burning more and more every second. I loved it… I couldn’t get enough of his cock. When he reached the end, I groaned, because I just couldn’t get enough of it.
Then he snapped his hips back, and shoved back in, hard and fast.
I had to tightly grip my cock and balls to stop from coming right there. He misinterpreted this as an attempt to pleasure myself, however, and pulled my arms back. He held both my arms in place as he fucked me, and leaned close;
“You’re not going to come while you touch yourself, you’re gonna come without touching that sexy rod of yours. You’ll come all over my desk, and I’m not gonna clean it off. I want you to lick it off…”
Dirty talk like that sped the inevitable. I gave a yell which must have been heard from the shop, and maybe the street outside, and came all over the desk, and over my own stomach.
He grunted, and flooded my hole with his cream.
He stayed inside me while his cock softened, laid across my back. A few minutes later, I slid down onto my knees and began to lick my cum off the desk. What can I say, I’m a complete slut… especially for him. He really did have me mesmerized after sex like that. He joined me almost straight away, and our tongues twined on the sweaty, come-covered desktop. As every drop of come was cleaned away, he turned my head, and engaged me in a soul stealing kiss.
Christ…
The sex was nothing to the kiss. He pushed me back against the desk and laid across me, kissing me for several minutes, during which I’d gotten hard again. We ended up poking each other in the bellybutton with our again hard cocks. He pulled away from the kiss, and was moving down my body, when suddenly we heard a quiet bark.
We both leaped up and threw on our clothes, and strode into the shop, where there was a man looking confused.
“Don’t mind Rex there, he was just guarding the shop. Sorry about that,” said Gary, “I was just in the back office interviewing this young fellow. In fact, Christian, why don’t you try and help him out, and see how you get on. I’m here if you need me.” And with that, he strode back behind the till.
The man wanted to know about graphics cards… He eventually decided to buy the second most expensive one in the shop (Never work on persuading the customer to buy the most expensive one, sell them the cheaper one next to it. It looked like Gary had figured this out, too; He’d put them together, so the customer could see that he was buying the cheaper one) thanks to some persuasive salesmanship, and Gary rang it up on the till, giving him a ten pound discount on it (small shops can do that, which is always fun) to encourage repeat buyers. The toughest part of the sale was doing it trying to discreetly disguise my massive boner… which only got worse when I started to feel Gary’s come drip from my asshole.
After the man left the shop, Gary stepped up behind me again, and wrapping one arm around my waist, he whispered in my ear.
“You’ve got the job. How about a celebration?”
I shuddered in ecstasy, and he licked down my ear as a promise of things to come. He smiled, grabbed my hand and spun me around, before leading me back into the office. We went inside, and as an afterthought, before shutting the door, I turned and spoke to the only other soul still in the shop.
“Rex… Don’t you even think of moving…” and winked. I swear, that dog winked back.
Bit of feedback might be nice...
If you've got any ideas to kick start me, then they're of course always welcome.
Hot story! I agree with Craiger too and wish mine would be that easy. Keep it up and continue writing it cos I want to see where this lead to...Thanks for sharing.
