Genel

‘Yes sir’ or ‘Stop’

Ass

Okay, here’s the set up: my name is Kash (yes, that’s my name); I’m 18 years old and lithe and skinny and good looking, with a mix of European and middle eastern ancestry. My name derives from the latter half of my ancestry. People say that I look like slightly Persian Chris Diamond. I’m a varsity swimmer, and thus I have a swimmer’s build, lithe and tight.

I still lived at home when the following events occurred in the summer right before I was getting ready to go off to university in the fall.

It all involves Mr. Cox.

The house next door to my childhood home was owned by Mr. Cox. He was middle aged Caucasian man, and had a great bod. His svelte six pack muscles rippled across his abdomen, and well defined pecs and biceps creased his arms and chest. The salt and pepper hair that adorned his avuncular handsome face was always trimmed and neat. He was a total hot daddy type.

The rumors in the neighborhood about Mr. Cox were legendary. According to the stories, he was scandalizing the wives and daughters in the neighborhood. I lived next door, so I did see a number of women show up at his house over the three years of time that he’d moved in. And the women were good looking, ranging from my university aged to milftastic. They’d show up and then be gone by the next day, often heavy smiles plastered on their faces as they left.

And I could see why the women in the neighborhood liked Mr. Cox so much. He had the most amazing cock. It was huge. It was easily the largest I’d ever seen outside of a porno, girthy and massive. A real manrammer.

How did I know?

Well, I knew because I was watching him fuck a guy through my window right now.

I learned three really important details about the world and myself as I stared across to Mr. Cox’s house from my second floor window to his second floor window, which offered a great view of the salacious scene in his master bedroom.

The first thing I learned about the world was that Mr. Cox liked guys too. From the menagerie of neighbors that appeared at his front door week after week, he definitely liked women. But here was visual evidence that he took guys to bed too. And not only did he take guys to bed, he dominated them too.

The second thing that I learned about the world was that I was a voyeur. Not only was I watching Mr. Cox and this guy go at it, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it either. Mr. Cox was having a very private moment with another (very) consenting adult and I was violating that moment. But I just couldn’t stop watching. He was porntastic.

The third thing that I learned about the world is that I liked guys too. This was the first time I’d really ever thought about the real possibility that I might be into guys. I was getting very hard and horny watching Mr. Cox fucking this guy. It was mesmerizing. Mr. Cox had a young university aged guy close bent over his bed, and was slowly pistoning his huge cock in and out of the younger guy’s ass. I would’ve thought taking a monster cock up the ass would be painful, but the younger guy looked like he was in ecstasy. His mouth was agape, and although I couldn’t hear anything, I could see that his moans were timed to Mr. Cox penetrations. Mr. Cox playfully slapped his ass, and then grabbed his hair to hold him down as he went deeper and deeper into his very willing partner.

It wasn’t until close to the end that Mr. Cox noticed me through his window. Mr. Cox pulled out of his sub, grabbing his sub’s hair to lead him off the bed and onto his knees and eye level in front of Mr. Cox’s fuckrod, beckoning his sub’s mouth onto the cock that had just been inside his ass. Mr. Cox grabbed his sub’s head and pulled his sub’s mouth up and down along his glistening shaft at his desired pace. The sub was giving Mr. Cox a great blowjob, and I knew this because he threw his head back with a giant smile plastered across his face. When he reopened his eyes, he saw me.

There he was, a guy in his mid forties getting sucked by a guy half his age, all the while being watched by his 18 year old neighbor. At first a shot of panic flashed across Mr. Cox’s avuncular good looking face. Then I think he most have noticed that I liked what I was seeing, because I still didn’t look away. I couldn’t look away. I continued to stand there stupidly at my window, watching him get blown by this other guy. A nascent smile crept across the left side of his lips as we made eye contact. His hand continued to pull his sub’s hair to move his mouth up and down his massive spittle-gleaming shaft at his desired pace as he looked back at me.

He let me watch him for a good minute or so. We looked at each other as one of his hands grabbed his sub’s hair and directed his own blowjob manually. He smiled. I smiled. We smiled.

But then he suddenly moved his hips in the direction of the window and both of his hands reached out for the window blind cords. His sub stayed on him the whole time, oscillating up and down his shaft as Mr. Cox lowered the window blinds.

Mr. şiran escort Cox maintained eye contact with me, continuing to smile as he slowly lowered the window curtains to his bedroom window. As the curtains jangled down, he smacked his lips together in a fake kiss towards me. Then the curtains suddenly dropped and I couldn’t see them anymore.

After the blinds dropped, I went to the bathroom and masturbated and came so hard that I couldn’t believe it. Watching Mr. Cox fucking that guy had really turned on a light for me.

I wanted to be that guy getting fucked by Mr. Cox. I wanted to be that guy on his knees who was blowing Mr. Cox. I wanted to do what that guy was doing. I wanted to be Mr. Cox’s next conquest, next slut.

I didn’t have to wait long.

One morning a few days later, I was doing my morning jog in the neighborhood park as always. I heard the compression of carbon plated running shoes accelerating towards me from behind.

“Hey,” I heard a deep voice call from behind me. As there was nobody else around, I figured that the voice was directed at me, so I slowed my pace and turned my head around to see who was calling me.

Mr. Cox was shirtless, running in short shorts that revealed his toned legs. His tanned and muscled chest was sweaty from his run.

He ran right up to me, and staring into my eyes from maybe a foot away, just said, “keep your eyes to yourself, pervert.” I could feel a little spittle on my face as he said it. Then he ran away, an angry and disgusted look on his face as he did so.

I slowed my pace down to let him pass, and I just watched as his svelte body sped back up to interval pace. He never looked at me.

Well, shit.

I had kinda hoped that when he blew that kiss at me, he was expressing potential interest. I had kinda hoped that Mr. Cox could gay me out once before I went to university in the fall. But that didn’t seem to be possible now. In fact, the chances of me getting together with Mr. Cox seemed pretty close to zero.

What happened? Why the previous obvious flirtation and the current rejection of any possibility? He certainly didn’t seem disgusted with me when I was watching him.

Well, I should have just moved on. But I didn’t. In response to Mr. Cox’s “pervert” comment, I decided to do something both unwarranted and very childish. I teepeed his house. That very night, I snuck out of my house after dark and threw six rolls of toilet paper over his house, glazing his front yards trees and roof in thin white paper. His house was a glorious mess and I saw him pulling the toilet paper out of his trees and off his roof the next morning. I watched him pull the toilet paper off his house slowly from my second story window. When he saw me in the window again, I waved and smiled once, just to insure that he knew it was me.

It was a few days before I would go off to university, and all of my stuff was packed in boxes inside my room. I had been packing all day so I wanted to take a swim. It was hot in the California summers.

The pool in Mr. Cox’s backyard seemed especially enticing on such a hot day, the heat and sun bearing down on anyone outside like a hawk on prey. I pulled the curtains from one of the windows in the front of my house and checked Mr. Cox’s front yard. His Jeep was gone. Usually that was an indication that he was gone for a few days.

In what proved to be a life altering decision, I decided to put on my swimsuit and climb over the fence to Mr. Cox’s backyard. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d done this. The previous summer, I snuck in several swims in Mr. Cox’s pool. I just hopped the fence, swam for about a hour, and then left while the sun was still hot enough to evaporate any evidence of me being there before Mr. Cox came home.

As I said before, I’m a swimmer. Hopping over the fence wasn’t any problem for me, even if all I was wearing was a form tight swimsuit. I stood at the edge of his pool, and the heat bore down on me. The shivers of heat prickled my skin. And I was at the edge of his pool. Mr. Cox’s pool. That fine piece of svelte middle aged beffy daddy. Who liked guys. Young guys. Like me. Just thinking about him made me very horny and hard.

I slipped off my swim shorts, now completely naked in his backyard, without his permission to use his pool or be there. I was erect as I dived into his pool. He used this pool. I was very sure that he’d fucked several of his conquests in this pool too. I again found myself wishing that I was one of his conquests as I did shorts laps back and forth in his pool, completely naked.

I was twenty minutes or so into my breast stroke practice when I heard Mr. Cox scream “what the fuck is this!”

He was standing at the edge of the pool in just swim trunks, an angry visage scrawled across his face.

I hadn’t heard him pull up into his driveway. I hadn’t heard him change into swimwear. I hadn’t heard him open the door to his backyard. I hadn’t heard şirinevler escort him walk over to the pool. Because while I was swimming, I was thinking about him fucking me. And now he was standing at the edge of his pool, which I was using without his permission. I had no idea how long I was swimming while he stood there waiting for me to notice his presence.

I swam to the edge of the pool directly below his bare feet, hoping that he hadn’t yet noticed that I was naked. (He noticed.)

“Get the fuck out of my pool you little shit!” he screamed at me, visibly upset, his arms and hands gesticulating angrily.

I sauntered out of the pool from the steps in the shallow end and tried to think of what I could say to get myself out of this situation. Mr. Cox was a lot bigger than me and he was very angry.

I held up my hands in front of me and was mid way through my first attempt at apology when Mr. Cox grabbed one of my hands by the wrist. Hard. And twisted. Hard.

I was bent slightly over to my side as Mr. Cox screamed “you think this is okay?” inches from my face.

“I’m sor-” was all I managed to say before Mr. Cox interjected, continuing to grip one of my wrists in one of his strong, manly, and now angry hands.

“Shut up! Get inside!” Mr. Cox screamed, and then pulled me by my wrist to inside his house.

He marched me inside his living room, and I was still dripping water from the pool. I’d never had the chance to dry off. I was still naked and hard. It didn’t matter that he was visibly angry. The guy I was very attracted to was grabbing me. It had an effect.

Mr. Cox took one look at me dripping chlorine saturated water all over his carpet and screamed, “god damn it! You fucking shit! Now look what you’ve done!”

“Hey, you dragged me in here befo-” I managed to blurt in teenage blame shifting before Mr. Cox again interjected and cut me off.

“Shut up!” he yelled.

Mr. Cox held my wrist aloft with one hand, stretching my body out. I think that was the first moment that he actually looked down toward me with something other than anger. I could see it in his face. Something changed in his demeanor: he went from anger to something else that was mixed with anger.

In fact, I was pretty sure that he liked what he saw. As I said, I’m a swimmer, with a swimmer’s build: lithe and muscular. We swimmers also shave pretty much everything to reduce water resistance. I was smooth as a baby’s bottom and I guessed pretty quickly that Mr. Cox liked his guys young and tight and smooth. I was all of those things. I could see the hunger in his eyes contend with the anger in his heart, which wrestled with each other until he decided what to do. But that look in his eyes when he blew me that fake kiss had somewhat returned.

A few seconds passed as his eyes lazily gazed along my body, his strong hand still holding one of my arms aloft.

I was naked in front of an angry and slowly becoming horny Mr. Cox. And I was still hard. I had just been fantasizing about him. And I was still dripping some water on his carpet.

“I’m sorry Mr. Cox. I was just taking a little swi-,” I managed to say before he interjected again.

“Shut up! I talk! You listen!,” Mr. Cox screamed again and then violently bent one of my arms behind my back and then perp-walked me naked into the kitchen next to his living room, gripping one of my arms behind me, directing me to the area by the kitchen sink.

Then I noticed the handcuffs on the kitchen island next to us.

Just as the thought “why the fuck are there handcuffs in the kitchen?” zipped across my mind, Mr. Cox grabbed my other wrist and held both of my arms behind me with one strong arm while the other grabbed my neck and bent me over the kitchen counter, next to the sink. My chest and face were splayed against the kitchen counter tiles.

“We’re going to have a long conversation, boy,” Mr. Cox said aridity, devoid of emotion, elongating the diphthong at the end of “boy”. He held my hands behind me with one strong arm while his other hand reached to the kitchen island and grabbed the handcuffs.

He slapped the handcuffs on my wrists behind me and closed them tight. The handcuffs clinked loudly shut. I had just been arrested. This encounter was quickly morphing into something that I might not be able to handle, so I panicked.

“Hey, I’m sorry! I’m sor-” was all I managed to get out of my mouth before what happened next.

SMACK.

He spanked me once. Hard. I instantly yelped and stopped trying to apologize. Oh my god he just spanked me. It should have hurt, but I was just so surprised that he spanked me that my body just jolted upward against his grip. My ass perked up a little in the air and the handcuffs ground into my wrists as my arms angled against them.

He forced me back down onto his kitchen counter, my face and chest again splayed against the tiles, my ass perked up towards him. His şirinyer escort hand that had just spanked me rested against my right asscheck, which he kneaded lightly with his fingers.

“Shut the fuck up!” Mr. Cox screamed at me.

For the first time, Mr. Cox’s hands traced the outline of my waist on both sides. Rather gently in fact. I was still extremely hard and horny but I was also scared because I didn’t know what was going to happen here. Was he going to hurt me, or were we fucking around? I really really didn’t know.

“I should report you to the police for breaking and entering,” Mr. Cox said flatly.

“Hey! No! No! Let’s not d-” I retorted before what happened next, interrupting my speech mid-verb.

SMACK.

“If I want you to talk, I’ll tell you, you little shit,” he announced in low baritone. The marshal reverb of his voice cacophoned through my mind. He was in charge of this.

“I’ve got some better ideas about how to punish you anyway,” he said, the tang in his voice fading, the anger abating in his tone, changing to something more marshal instead, as his hands caressed the outside of my butt on both sides.

“Or maybe I should call the cops? You’re over 18. You’re no minor. You should know better than to break into a man’s place,” Mr. Cox said, his voice rising an octave as he orally iterated through his options.

“No! No! No please! No police. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry! Really sorry! I’ll never do it again!” I mumbled quickly through my attempted apology, my intonation jumping around my words in the same manner as my heart was wildly beating through in my chest. I was still hard and my fear and my horniness were wrestling wildly within my soul.

“Okay then. No police. Something else instead,” he said after a few seconds, clearly enjoying the power imbalance.

He took a step forward then, his thighs now in contact with my naked ass. I could feel him through his swimsuit. His cock. His huge engorging cock. He was getting very excited.

“I’m gonna punish you now, Kash. Do you understand?” he asked.

“Uh uhhnn,” was all that I could muster at that moment. I was scared. I was horny. I was handcuffed. He could have done whatever he wanted to me at that point, and there was very little I could do to stop him. But I didn’t want him to stop. I still wanted to be that guy that I saw Mr. Cox fucking a few weeks ago.

“You say ‘yes sir’, or ‘stop’. If you don’t say ‘stop,’ then I’m going to continue punishing you. And I’m going to punish you until I’m satisfied with your contrition,” he said calmly, matter-of-factly, one of his hands now tracing along the outside of my left leg and a finger of his other hand sidling along my naked asscrack.

I had just graduated high school. I didn’t know what “contrition” meant. All I really understood was that this guy that I had been fantasizing about for a good while was going to do as yet unspecified wonderful/horrible things to me. A few seconds passed. I didn’t say anything. Mt. Cox didn’t say anything. A few more seconds passed.

SMACK.

He spanked me hard again. It hurt. I screamed but the frisson emanating from the point of his strike quickly dissipated.

“Kash, do you understand what I’m saying? You say ‘yes sir’ or ‘stop’. If you don’t say ‘stop,’ then I’m going to continue punishing you until I’m done,” he said calmly, matter-of-factly again, as if he were reading a contract rather than getting ready to fuck the neighbor less than half his age in his kitchen.

“Yes sir,” I mumbled weakly, the horny evocations from my body set to war with the fear in my mind. I wanted this. But I was scared at the same time. I was horny and scared. My emotions were a tumble. But it was the same for Mr. Cox. He was pissed off and horny. But the key was that we were both very horny at that moment.

He stopped caressing my lower body with his hands and stepped away from me. I was still bent over his kitchen counter but I could hear him pulling off his swimsuit.

I crooned my head back to look, and I saw it.

Mr. Cox was very svelte for a middle aged man. His muscled arms just came back up from taking off his swim shorts. I looked at his nipples in the middle of his shaved, muscled chest and then my eyes went down his defined pecs and mogul trail like toned stomach and then to his cock.

Oh god his cock. His cock was throbbing slowly in time with is heartbeat, fully erect and already wet with precum. A single large vein stretched along its vast length. It was huge. I’d never seen a cock this huge before.

Mr. Cox stepped back towards me, his cock resting in the crevice between my asscheeks, one of his hands gripping the handcuffs, the other against one of my asschecks, palm open and ready to restart my punishment.

“I can’t have you coming onto my property like this. I won’t allow it,” he said flatly, like he was reading from a prepared statement.

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything. This dreamboat fuck daddy was getting horny spanking me. He was gonna fuck me. I wanted it, but I had no idea what it would be like. It might be rough. It might be heaven. It might be rough heaven. Again, a few moments passed.

SMACK.

I screamed in pain and pleasure again. He spanked me at exactly the same spot. My right asscheek was white with his handprint upon a red background.

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