The Telemachus Story Archive

The One Hundred
Part 6 - 51-60
By Hooder
Email: hooder@ntlworld.com

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51-60

Christian was still wearing the hood they transported him in. He heard a door open, and then several footsteps. A minute later James pulled his hood off, then walked around the spiderweb to stand behind him.

The playroom was the biggest he’d been in so far. He groaned. Standing on a large floor pad in front of him stood three of the cutest boys he’d ever seen. Three sexy teenagers - one in tight biker leathers: jacket, jeans and boots; the second a skinhead in tight bleachers, Doc Martens and a white teeshirt. The third was a punk with a blond mohican. This one wore sprayed-on shiny black PVC jeans with two heavy studded leather belts around his hips, a Generation X teeshirt, and a tight, ripped leather jacket covered in shiny metal studs. On his wrists were spiked armbands, and his heavy boots were covered in chains. And he was fucking beautiful.

They stood there, letting him look at them for a while, then the leatherboy walked slowly up to him. He looked Christian up and down, and smiled sexily. “You want to cum?” He ran a gloved fingertip slowly down Christian’s body from his nipple to his stomach. “We’re gonna make you want to cum a lot more...”

The skinhead and the punk joined the leatherboy in front of Christian. They fondled him gently. “Which one of us do you fancy most?” asked the skinhead. “Doesn’t matter to us...”

Christian looked at them. All three were beautiful boys: cute, sexy, gorgeous. But the punk… oh fuck - he was, to Christian, sex on legs. “Oh fuck. All of you. You.” He was looking at the punk.

The punk boy smiled. “Good.”

Shit, he was almost cumming just looking at these three. They went back to the pad, then suddenly the skinhead and the leatherboy grabbed the punk. They wrestled him down onto the floor, their hands all over him. The leatherboy was holding him down and kissing him hard, while the skinhead unzipped the boy’s tight PVC jeans and got his cock out. While the leatherboy held him helpless, the skinhead began to suck the punk’s hard cock slowly. Christian couldn’t take his eyes off them as the skin’s head moved up and down the punk’s cock shaft with increasing speed.

Then he felt something on his own cock. He’d forgotten about James, standing behind him. The sadistic German guy had put his hands through the web and was tickling his cock and his balls with rubber-gloved fingers.

Christian yelled: “NO!!” He pulled with every ounce of his strength at the restraints, but of course it did no good. The fingers continued to tease his balls and to stroke gently over his desperate cock head from behind the spider web. Instantly the boy was on the edge. James stopped – and Christian fought, his arms and legs tugging at the ropes, his body thrashing about insanely. “This is fucking unfair!”

“It’s intended to be...” whispered James sadistically.

“Fifty-one.”

The skinhead was still sucking the punk off. Suddenly he pulled his head away and gripped the shaft of the boy’s cock with his hand. A couple of strokes later punk spunk was arcing into the air as the sexy boy came.

The sight of the punk having the orgasm he longed for himself with every fibre of his being got Christian to the edge instantly. “Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!!”

“Fifty-two.”

The punk zipped himself up and sat down to recover, while the skinhead knelt on the pad, facing Christian. The leatherboy did the same, immediately behind him, and reached a leather-jacketed arm round his waist. He gripped the boy’s bulging cock through his skintight bleachers and pulled it outwards until his fingers could encircle it almost completely. Christian saw that the skin’s jeans were stretch denim. He clamped his other leather-gloved hand tightly over the skinhead’s mouth, gagging him. Then he began, very slowly indeed, to wank him off in his jeans.

“Fifty-three”.

The leatherboy’s fingers gripped the hard cock bulge, stretching the jeans even further with each stroke. Christian could imagine exactly what it felt like: he knew that often being worked on through sexy gear felt even more horny than having your naked cock played with. The black leather, smooth rubber or rough denim sliding over your cock – particularly if you had a fetish for the gear – was guaranteed to make you need to cum. And the sight of the cute skinhead being so slowly milked in his sexy, skintight bleached jeans by the biker boy had made Christian need to cum even before James’s fingers had started to move on his cock again. The German guy had stopped straight away.

Christian squeezed his eyes closed and swore. God, he needed to CUM! This was getting ridiculous.

The skinhead was close – Christian could see that: there was a growing patch of precum-soaked denim at the tip of his cock. The leatherboy transferred his attention to just the head – his fingertips sliding slowly over the tip. Christian could see clearly the shallow indentation in the faded denim they left in their wake as they teased over the head. James’ fingers on Christian’s cock mimicked the motion of the leatherboy’s exactly. The skinhead moaned into the gagging hand. A few seconds later his own hand started towards his cock to finish himself off - but the punk had been watching and was ready. He grabbed it and clamped it immovably between his knees, while the biker grabbed the skin’s other hand with the one that had been over the boy’s mouth. Immediately the skinhead swore. “Let me cum, you fuckers!”

The punk reached down and started to tease the skin’s balls, causing the boy to clamp his knees together. But the punk’s hand was not going anywhere; the fingers teased and tickled between the insides of the boy’s thighs. The skinhead let out a yell, threw his head back and, while James’ fingers worked sadistically slowly – hardly touching - on Christian’s cock, he watched the leatherboy make the skinhead cum in his jeans. Christian could see the cock bucking as it pumped his spunk out into the skintight denim. A huge wet path began to spread over his crotch as the cute boy’s body convulsed in the throes of orgasm.

“Fifty-four.”

Nooooooooooo!!” This was too much. Those three boys were fucking gorgeous, and to have to watch them making each other cum while at the same time being edged by rubber-gloved fingers intent on making him suffer, was untenable. Christian threw back his head and howled.

It was the leatherboy’s turn now. He looked delicious with his mop of dark hair over brown eyes. He stood with his booted feet apart, his gloved hands on his hips, his tight black leather jeans reflecting the playroom lights while the other two boys ran their hands over him and licked his leathers. His arms, chest, stomach, legs, bulge, thighs, boots – not in inch of his biker gear went unlicked. Under the leather of his tight jeans his hard cock was obvious - and, with a need so intense that he could taste it, Christian watched the skinhead lick the tip of his tongue along the length…

“Fifty-five.”

The boys rearranged themselves: the skin lay face up on the floor while the biker unzipped his leather jeans and got his hard cock out. Then he lay on top of the skin, pushing his cock between the cum-soaked denim of the boy’s thighs. They held each other and kissed, running their hands over each other’s body.

James was working on Christian’s sweet spot...

“Fifty-six.”

Although the punk had cum only minutes ago he was already hard again, and putting a condom on. He undid a zip in the arse of the leatherboy’s jeans, got into a press-up position on top of him, and slowly pushed his cock in. Then the leatherboy started thrusting his hips. This caused him both to get fucked by the punk’s cock which was stationary above him, and also to fuck the skinhead’s thighs, which were tightly gripping his cock. He kissed the skinhead. A few moments later he groaned urgently as the skin’s thighs made him cum. Although Christian couldn’t see it, he knew the leatherboy’s spunk was jetting out onto the skin’s milking jeans.

“Fifty-seven.”

The punk took the condom off, pushed his hard cock inside his jeans, arranging it across his right thigh, and zipped them up. Now the boys just played with each other, licking and stroking each other’s gear. Hands ran over tight jeans, teased and fondled bulges, tickled and groped. The skinhead noticed the punk’s rigid cock and took the PVC bulge into his mouth. He sucked it.

“Fifty-eight.”

After a while the punk got up, the shiny PVC over his rock-hard cock bulge glistening with the skin’s spit, and walked towards Christian. He ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth and smiled. “You horny yet?” He asked.

Christian was beside himself. He tore at the restraints to get his hands on the beautiful punk, but the ropes held him fast.

The punk’s mouth was inches away from Christian’s. He parted his lips and moved closer still. But every time Christian tried to kiss him, he moved back just far enough so that he couldn’t.

“Fifty-nine.”

Christian pleaded. “Kiss me. Make me cum. Pleeeease...”

The punk waited for a few moments until a nod from James confirmed that the boy was out of the danger zone, then wet his lips and moved forward just enough to make the lightest contact with Christian’s mouth. He brushed his lips slowly against the boy’s a few times, paused, and then kissed him. He kept far enough away so that the kiss was gentle, even though Christian wanted to crush his lips against the punk’s mouth and devour him.

James’ fingertips were just tickling his cock now, but it was enough.

“Sixty.”

The punk smiled, winked, and then turned and left the room along with the biker and the skinhead.

Oh god…. Oh fuck... Oh shit….” As Christian sagged in the restraints, another rope of precum fell down and joined the huge pool on the floor.

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