The Telemachus Story Archive

The Skull
By Hooder

The Skull

Aiden breathed in the late afternoon air and let it out with a contented sigh; it was good to be out in the countryside on a summer day like this. He squinted up at the blue sky; the sun was low on the horizon. Perhaps he’d underestimated the length of this walk - it would be well into the evening by the time he got back to the cottage, but he didn’t care. He loved the fact that in these parts there was so little light pollution that on a clear night you could easily see the Milky Way. It had been his nineteenth birthday yesterday and he’d treated himself to a week’s walking holiday in the Yorkshire dales. It was great to be away from work in the city for a few days in a place like this.

The oak woods on either side of the road were dark and, in other circumstances, might have seemed forbidding, but in his present frame of mind they were just atmospheric. Only one car had passed him since he’d been on this road, and that had been over an hour ago. The two little girls in the rear seat had waved to him, and they’d giggled when the good-looking boy had waved back.

There was a small flat rock on the side of the road so he sat down and rummaged in his backpack for an energy bar. A sharp crack in the distance made him look up – it sounded like an engine backfiring. A few seconds later he heard a vehicle approaching. It was still far away but it sounded like a motorbike.

The bike got closer slowly as he chewed his bar, and he looked to see it approach, but it hadn’t appeared yet.

The sound drew closer still – surely he should be able to see it by now, it sounded nearby – but then it stopped. Aiden stood up, searching the spot where the road disappeared from his view, but he couldn’t see anything. Odd, he thought.

With a shrug he returned his attention to the energy bar. When it was finished he stretched, and had difficulty closing his backpack on the rock. He really must get that zip fixed, it sometimes refused to fasten. Eventually he got it closed and pulled the pack on.

When he turned back to the road he almost jumped out of his skin: standing right in front of him, just a few feet away, was a figure straight out of a horror film. A biker – black leather from head to toe – high, shiny boots, tight lace-up sided leather jeans, a heavy leather jacket, tight leather gloves, and motocross body armour on his knees and elbows. But the most frightening thing was the black leather skull mask he was wearing. The staring eye sockets gazed at him malevolently and the mouth was just a black hole. There was no sign of any motorbike.

“Oh shit! You frightened the life out of me!”

The biker remained silent. He just stood there, his leathers glinting in the twilight.

Aiden frowned. “Has your bike broken down? ‘Fraid I don’t know much about -”

The figure’s hand came up holding a small aerosol can. It hissed for a couple of seconds. Before Aiden could react he was looking through a mist and breathing it in. A moment later the boy fell into black leather arms, unconscious.

Aiden moaned. His head hurt, and he was thirsty. He opened his eyes slowly and the first thing he saw was a glass of water being held in leather-gloved fingers. He tried to take the glass, but realised that he couldn’t move his arms. He was sitting on a wooden chair, and he was tied up. Oh fuck, he thought, I’m in the hands of a psycho...

The glass came closer. The hand tilted it and held it while he drank. The cool water went some way to making him feel more human again. With a start, he realised something else: he was stark naked.

“Look,” he said through lips that felt furry, “you can take whatever I’ve got. It’s in my backpack. Please don’t hurt me.”

The leather-clad biker put the empty glass down and stood with his hands on his hips, directly in front of the boy, silent.

“Wh – what do you want?”

The black figure said nothing. One hand moved to the zip of his leather jeans, and very slowly began to pull it down. When it was fully open the fingers reached inside and eased out a very large, semi-hard cock. It filled much of Aiden’s field of view.

The boy swallowed. Oh shit, he thought. Oh fuck. He had nothing against gays – in fact most of his friends were gay (they called him ‘cutie’ and constantly bemoaned the fact that he wasn’t interested) - but he was most definitely straight.

He stared at the rapidly-hardening cock in front of his face like a rabbit stuck in headlights. The leather of the biker’s jeans creaked as he moved his cock closer. It was now lightly brushing Aiden’s lips.

This was the closest he’d ever been to a cock. His nose had wrinkled up in the expectation of something unpleasant, but it wasn’t so bad – in fact all he could smell was leather and a very faint musk. His face relaxed. He had a decision to make: to open his lips, or not. He was under no illusions that if he refused, the biker would apologise, give him a cup of tea and send him on his way, and so his options were limited. Resignedly, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

The cock slid in gently until half of its length had disappeared, and then it stopped. The biker was running his gloved hands slowly over his leather-jeaned thighs. Aiden opened his eyes, and watched the light move on the black leather under the biker’s fingers. Perhaps the best thing would be to get this guy off as quickly as possible and then maybe he could get out of here. Tentatively, he touched the head of the cock with his tongue. A shudder ran through the biker and a low moan escaped from under the skull mask.

Gaining confidence in his plan, Aiden began to suck the cock. He’d never done it before but he found that all he had to do was to imagine what it would be like for the biker, and do what he thought would feel good. His lips slid over the bumpy cock and his tongue caressed the head. After a minute or so he decided that it was nothing like as disgusting as he’d expected. He changed up a gear and sucked more enthusiastically in order to make the biker cum. He didn’t let himself think about where the spunk was going to go.

The biker was moaning and his cock was rock-hard in the boy’s mouth. Suddenly he pulled out. His hand moved towards his cock and then away again as if he was fighting the urge to finish himself off. He succeeded in controlling himself and put his cock back into his jeans. The bulge it made was enormous.

The figure took the aerosol can out of his pocket and gave Aiden another burst – but this time it was a very short one. The boy screwed his eyes closed reflexively.

Within a few seconds his arms and legs began to feel heavy and all the energy went out of him. He wasn’t sleepy, but he could feel his strength draining away. “Wha - ?”

The biker put the can back into his pocket and untied the boy. Aiden began to slump forward but the biker caught him and pushed him back. He raised an arm and pointed to the bed.

Aiden struggled to his feet – his legs weren’t working very well – and made it over to the bed, where he collapsed. The biker positioned him on his side, then lay down behind him. The boy could feel the guy’s leather jacket and jeans all down his back and legs, and the heavy boots against his feet. An arm reached over his hip, the hand enclosing his limp cock. The fingers began to caress it and stroke it. To Aiden’s surprise it began to get hard in the leather grip. Strength was beginning to return and he thought about trying to get free. He struggled experimentally but the booted feet clamped around his and the biker moved so that his weight was partly holding him down.

“Get OFF! Mmmmmphhhh!” Aiden yelled. A leather-gloved hand had immediately clamped over his mouth, gagging him.

He continued to struggle but his co-ordination had not fully returned yet and he knew it was hopeless. He could feel the power of the biker’s muscles, and the hard body armour as he held the boy helpless. The fingers continued to work on his cock and he realised that in spite of himself he was completely hard now.

The biker let go and pulled the boy further down the bed. Then he got back on, this time facing Aiden, but in a sixty-nine position. He pushed the boy’s head into his bulging leather crotch and took Aiden’s naked cock into his mouth. Aiden gasped – instead of hot lips, it felt like leather around his cock. A tongue slid around the head and Aiden almost went cross-eyed at the feeling.

His vision was, however, fully taken up by the leather bulge in front of him. He hesitated for a moment, and then buried his face in the biker’s crotch. He guessed that was what the guy wanted him to do. He blinked - the leather smelled wonderful and actually felt sexy. He licked it, then slowly took the bulge of the hard cock between his teeth and ran them over it. Through the jeans he felt it jerk in response. Part of his mind recoiled from its movement, but another part registered pleasure that he’d caused the reaction.

The biker was working steadily on Aiden’s cock, the inverted condom of the mask’s mouth enclosing it in shiny black leather. He knew that the boy could feel the very lightest touch clearly through the thin, sensitive leather sheath. He smiled to himself: he also knew that with very few exceptions, boys couldn’t stop themselves from responding to the feel of leather on their naked, vulnerable, horny cocks.

He slid it up and down the length, using his teeth to caress the shaft, and his tongue to work on the head. Very soon he felt a sudden increase in hardness and knew that the boy was getting ready to cum. He pulled off quickly, and sighed with satisfaction as he heard a loud moan of frustration.

Ten percent of Aiden’s mind was being applied to working on the biker’s cock bulge, the remaining ninety percent taken up with trying to deal with the unbelievable sensations it was being bombarded with by his own cock. The feel of it sliding in and out of that leather mouth, the teeth and the tongue and the folds of leather working on it were incredibly horny. He’d been very quickly getting closer to cumming, and now he was on the edge - but then the biker pulled his mouth away and all stimulation stopped. He screwed his eyes up, mentally screaming at the guy to finish him off.

The biker turned around and pulled the boy’s face close to his. Aiden stared into the eye sockets of the black skull mask. Then his head was being pulled even closer. His lips made contact with the mask’s mouth, and without thinking, he started to kiss the biker. He could feel the guy’s lips through the sheath, the hard leather of the mask against his face, and the rest of the guy’s gear pressing against his naked skin as the biker pushed himself tight against him. Aiden extended his tongue into the black cavity of the mouth and felt leather enclosing it and folding around it. A tongue came to meet his, and they teased each other through the thin leather.

Aiden ran his fingers over the guy’s jacket and jeans and sighed in pleasure at the feel of the cool black leather sliding under them. His strength had returned completely now, but he didn’t want to escape any more – he was too bound up in the moment: this felt too fucking horny. He had never really thought about leather as being sexy; a mate of his was a biker and yeah, he looked good in his leathers, but the gear itself hadn’t – until now, at least – held any special attraction for him. But fuck, this was doing. He kissed the biker and devoured his leathers with his hands. The strength of the guy was something almost tangible – and it made him feel so controlled and overpowered. This was a new feeling for him – at least as far as sex was concerned; being straight, he’d always been naturally ‘top’. It was novel and, he realised, deeply sexy.

During the kiss, the biker turned them both so that he was lying underneath Aiden. He reached down, took the boy’s cock and placed it between his legs, and then closed them together, gripping it tightly between his leather-jeaned thighs.

Aiden need no instructions. He began to fuck the biker’s jeans. The black leather thighs gripped his cock, milking it irresistibly. He could feel the leather-gloved hands stroking the cheeks of his arse and reaching between his legs to tease his balls.

Again, the boy was close to cumming. He could feel his spunk getting ready to begin its explosive journey – but again the biker stopped. He opened his legs and knelt up once more. Under the black skull mask - which was looking down expressionlessly at the boy’s beseeching face as he writhed in the frustration of not being able to cum – the biker was smiling.

Gently, he pushed Aiden back down onto the bed and unzipped his leather jeans again. This time he got his balls out as well as his cock. After allowing the boy a moment to work out what was going to happen, he turned him face down on the bed and lay down on top of him. Aiden felt the guy putting something onto his cock, and then leather fingers guiding it towards his arse hole.

The boy began to panic: on the one hand he knew that for some reason this leather biker was turning him on like crazy, but on the other – quite apart from the fact that he’d never been fucked before - being fucked up the arse was something he saw as the ultimate gay act: it was the one thing that went against his straighness more than anything else. He tried to struggle free.

In the event he didn’t have any choice: effortlessly the biker held him down, and he felt the cock slide slowly into him. He’d been prepared for a lot of pain – and there was indeed some, but less than he’d expected. He screwed his eyes shut as he felt the cock enter him. He was aware of every millimetre of it as it went further and further in, until at last he felt the guy’s balls and leather jeans against his arse. The biker paused for a moment, and Aiden began to relax, but then the guy began to fuck him.

It started gently. Long, slow strokes in and out – at the extent of each withdrawal he could feel the bulbous cock head just inside his sphincter. And at the other end of each stroke there was a moment when sparks of pleasure coruscated in his brain. He’d never felt anything like that before. And every time it did that, it made him need to cum.

Soon, however, the gentleness ended. The strokes speeded up and became more powerful until the biker was thrusting into him like the piston of an engine. The boy bounced on the bed under him. The guy’s leather jeans were creaking with each stroke; the zips on his jacket were stabbing into his bare flesh, and the air was full of the smell of leather. Aiden opened his mouth to scream, but the leather-gloved hand gagged him again, forcing the boy’s head back tight against the biker’s shoulder.

Aiden came, his cock jerking madly and warm stickiness spreading on the bed under him as the guy fucked him. Moments later he felt hot spunk pumping into him as the biker came inside him.

The biker collapsed onto the boy, panting. After a while he climbed off. Aiden rolled over and saw the guy removing a shiny black condom from his cock. He zipped his leather jeans up and stood gazing down at him. So far, Aiden realised, he hadn’t uttered a single word.

Slowly, the biker reached into his pocket and produced the aerosol can again. Aiden shook his head. “There’s no need for that. I won’t struggle.”

The biker stood looking at him, his masked head tilted to one side, then raised his arm.

“Please, no.” There was a hiss. “I promise I won’t say anything to any -” His world faded and he fell sideways down onto the bed.

“Ugh...” His head hurt again. Aiden blinked his eyes open, sat up groggily and looked around. It was night, and in the clear sky an almost-full moon hung like a jewel. He could see the flat rock where he’d sat down earlier. He stood up, tottered for a moment, took a drink from his water bottle, then picked up his backpack and set off at a very slow walk towards the village.

Back at the cottage he made himself a cup of coffee and sat down, thinking about what had happened to him. His cock was hard again. Hell of a thing, he thought, getting fucked by a leather biker in the middle of nowhere, twice in one night.

Twice? He smiled, and put his coffee cup on the sink. He looked out of the window; it was a warm, clear night. Perfect for another walk down a quiet, dark road.