The Telemachus Story Archive

Esaet-Pirts
By Hooder
Email: hooder@ntlworld.com



Esaet-Pirts

Simon was strapped to the gurney, and he was naked. Until a few moments ago he’d also been blindfolded, while Andy had wheeled him into the playroom, and then had raised the end of the gurney so that he was in a reclining position.

He looked around. A space in the middle of the room had been cleared. In the centre was a chair and, to the side of it, a large closed box.

“Enjoy. I’ll see you later.”

He wondered what the hell was going on. Andy bent down, kissed him, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

A few moments later the lights dimmed around the edges of the room, and the spotlights in the centre came up. Music began. The door opened again, and a youth entered. Simon stared: the boy moved like a cat. He had shaggy blond hair, and he was totally naked.

He smiled at Simon, but Simon was staring unbelievingly: the boy was beautiful . The youth padded over to the middle of the room and started to move in what was almost a dance, but wasn’t. It was as if he were just being himself, moving because he enjoyed it. His muscled, athletic body was smooth and his skin glowed with health; he was almost hairless, apart from his crotch; there, a semi-hard cock nestled in darker hair.

The boy walked around the chair slowly, not like the guys Simon had seen in the clubs, who either shook their arses and camped it up, or pretended to be a lot more butch than they obviously were – this youth moved naturally somehow: like a boy.

He sat down on the chair, smiled slowly and slightly self-consciously at Simon, then opened the box by his side. He took out a white sport sock, and slowly pulled it onto his left foot. Again, it struck Simon that this was a natural movement – he could have been in a locker room, with all the time in the world. He took the other sock from the box and put that on too.

Mmm.. he looked good in just socks. They were white, with a couple of thin blue lines running round the tops. He got up, did a few leisurely stretches, and then sat down again.

Watching this boy was doing wonderful things to Simon.

A teeshirt came out next. The youth turned it the right way around, pulled it over his arms, over his head, and then down. It ended just short of his navel, and stretched over his firm, young pecs and just-visible six-pack.

He lay on the floor and did twenty sit-ups without even increasing his breathing rate. When he’d finished them he crossed his feet under him and got up as if someone had pulled him up on a wire.

Simon could not believe the boys’agility.

He circled the chair a couple of times, then reached into the box again, bringing out a pair of black leather jeans. He sat on the chair and stroked the leather over his skin lovingly. His cock, which until now had been semi-hard, visibly began to grow. He slid the leather jeans over his legs, squeezed them between his thighs, and licked them. Almost in slow-motion, and with perfect balance, he stood on one foot, put the other one into the leg, and pulled it up. Then, swapping feet, did the other one. He straightened up and pulled the jeans gradually up his thighs. The leather was skin-tight, and it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to get into them like that.

Simon desperately wanted to get off the gurney to help, but the boy lay down on the floor and, arching his back so that his pelvis was off the ground, he wriggled like a snake, pulling the waistband and working the jeans upwards with his hands, inch by inch, until they wouldn’t go any higher. He positioned his cock and balls to the left, and carefully pulled up the zipper. Then he stood up and turned round slowly. Gazing at Simon with blue eyes, he gently stroked his fingers over the bulge of his cock. Simon felt an actual physical need to touch the boy, to hold him, to kiss him, to feel that leather against his skin...

A belt next – black, wide, and studded. He looped it around his neck for a moment, licked the leather, then slowly threaded it through the loops on the jeans, and buckled it up around his slim waist.

From the box this time came a pair of New Rock biker boots. They had studs, straps and buckles on them, and spikes at the sides. The boy sat on the chair, pulled the boots on and slowly buckled them up. He took out a pair of black leather cop gloves. Lovingly, he pulled them on, working his hands into the skin-tight leather. He stood, his gloved hands on his hips, his booted legs apart.

Simon swallowed. His eyes travelled slowly upwards, taking in the chunky studded boots, the skintight leather jeans on the boy’s muscled legs and thighs, the lickable bulge, the heavy, studded belt. He’d never seen such a vision of total perfection: the boy was something straight out of his wettest dreams.

The next thing out of the box was a black leather biker jacket. As before, he licked the leather, and rubbed it sensuously over his legs. His cock was now as hard as a rock. Slowly, he put the jacket on. Taking his time, he engaged the bottom of the zip, and pulled it up halfway. The jacket was the same length as the teeshirt, so between it and the top of the jeans was an inch of naked skin. It seemed to mould itself to his shape, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim waist.

Simon was in heaven. If the boy had looked sexy before, he was unbelievably hot in leather. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be this horny.

The youth dropped to the floor again and did thirty slow press-ups this time – again without breaking a sweat. Simon imagined himself lying on the floor under the boy, being fucked slowly and sensuously...

Simon was breathing fast. Those jeans were sprayed-on tight. White stitching on the seams contrasted with the jet-black leather, and the only creases visible anywhere were small ones behind the knees. The boy had a tight body – muscled, but not overly so. His arse was beautifully round, and the seam of the jeans pulled tightly between his buttocks. But Simon couldn’t take his eyes off the boy’s mouth-wateringly sexy bulge. His balls formed a semi-spherical mound, above which his rock-hard cock – outlined clearly by the soft, black leather – stretched the jeans over his left thigh, making a three-dimensional bulge that was just crying out to be touched, licked, bitten, kissed, milked . Simon desperately needed to do all of those things.

The boy walked around for a while, clearly loving the feel of the leather against his skin, then he faced Simon, hooked his thumbs in his belt, and stood there for a while, looking at Simon and smiling sexily. He reached up, and pulled the collar of his leather jacket up. “Am I a sexy boy?” he asked quietly.

The black leather seemed to make his blond hair glow in the playroom lights. Simon sighed in pleasure. He couldn’t speak. He nodded.

Very carefully, the boy climbed onto the gurney. He placed his knees astride Simon’s legs and knelt, looking down at him. He stroked his hands slowly over his jacket, and then his jeans. He gripped his bulging cock and squeezed it, making the leather creak. Simon clearly saw the cock jerk in response beneath his gloved fingers.

Moving slowly, the boy lay down full-length on top of him. Simon gasped in ecstasy at the feel of the studded leather jacket against his bare chest.

After a while the boy knelt up again, and moved along the gurney so that his bulge was an inch away from Simon’s mouth. “It’s yours,” he whispered. He moved his hips forward slightly.

Simon licked the leather. He kissed it, he stroked it with his teeth. For a long time he worked on the bulge, rarely taking his eyes off the boy’s beautiful face. A perfect leatherboy looking down at him, smiling. Never in his life had he seen anybody as sexy.

Eventually the boy closed his eyes, thrust his hips forward and his head back, an expression of pure pleasure on his face. Simon felt his cock suddenly harden even more, and then it was throbbing under his jeans as he came. Through the soft leather Simon could feel the spunk jetting out, and he carried on working on the cock until the boy’s orgasm was completely over.

The youth climbed off, bent down and gave Simon a slow, gentle kiss on the cheek. Then, with a final smile, he left the room.

* * *

“Did you enjoy that?” In the bedroom, Andy was unstrapping Simon from the gurney.

Simon grinned in happiness. His partner wrapped his arms around him.

“Ok. One, two, three...” Andy grunted as he pulled Simon upright, and slid him off the gurney and back into his wheelchair. He looked at his partner, a small smile playing on his lips, remembering. “Happy Birthday, Simon.”

He would see to his lover’s needs now.