This story is primarily about control between adult men with punishment and humiliation. If you object to any of this, or it is illegal for you to read such things under the law of the country you are in, then read no further. This story is based on a fictionalised version of Jake and any resemblance to any other person past or present is purely coincidental.
Be Careful What You Wish For 2
Jake opened his eyes, the cool morning air drifting past his face. He looked at the clear blue sky directly above him and yawned, causing the back of his head to move in the thick mud beneath it.
He sat up and glanced across the chain attached to his leg; it stopped him leaving the impromptu mud pit that had been constructed in his garden. His black nylon North Face tracksuit was slathered in mud. In places it had dried a light brown colour but mostly it was a dark gloopy mess.
He looked up to the window of his former bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, so there was no chance of going anywhere soon. He laid back down in the mud.
He really needed his first piss of the morning. He closed his eyes again and relaxed. Soon, he felt a warm sensation spread across his groin as his boxers absorbed the rank morning piss. It dribbled down his thighs and soaked up into his tee.
He smiled at the feeling as the warmth turned to dampness. It was something he had done many times before, although in his new reality he had no idea when he would get to change his clothes. He had been in them for three days already and he stank of piss.
The phrase ‘happy as a pig in muck’ entered his mind briefly as he drifted back into a doze, waiting for his ‘keeper’ to get up.
His keeper had certainly done a number on Jake’s house; stomping across carpets and his sofa with muddy trainers, marking his territory by spraying piss up walls and destroying large parts of his wardrobe.
His 'sneaker graveyard' had grown considerably over the last couple of days, and now was a sizeable mound of ruined pairs.
But then you should be careful what you wish for . . .
He must have dozed again as he was suddenly awoken by a large crash. He sat up startled and saw what appeared to be the remains of his small bedside table scattered across the stone patio. That and most of his remaining socks and boxers that used to be in it, now strewn across the garden.
Jake looked up to his bedroom window to see The Lad grinning mischievously towards him. He disappeared, and a few moments later appeared at the backdoor wearing just a pair of football shorts, white socks, and Nike BWs. All of it used to belong to Jake. The lad drew on a cigarette and blew the smoke out.
"Morning, cunt," he greeted Jake. His hand subconsciously slid down behind the waistband of the shorts and came to rest gently cupping his balls. He took another puff of his fag and exhaled the smoke skywards with a cocky smirk on his face.
"You're pathetic, aren't you," The Lad continued; it was definitely not a question. "Not even sure if you deserve my cock, if I'm being honest."
Jake looked around, suddenly conscious that his neighbours might overhear. The fences down the garden were six feet high, so it was unlikely he would be seen in this predicament, but The Lad was seemingly making sure he was heard.
His thoughts were interrupted by a noise on the other side of the fence. Jake glanced at The Lad as he quickly sidled to the fence panel in question and peered over the top. "Hello, mate. Fallen over, have we?"
The young guy on the other side was lying in a mortified heap on the ground; he had been caught spying. He started to mumble a few words, then his voice trailed off.
Jake had spoken to Mason a little bit in the past. He had moved in a couple of months back. Mason did a little gym work and running, and he was pleasant to look at. But he was quite shy and seemed intimidated by Jake.
The Lad grinned at him. "If you want to have a good look, come over! The back gate is open."
Mason looked startled at the invitation. He hesitated. Part of him definitely wanted to take up the offer, whereas another part wanted to make a dash for the house, sell it and move somewhere else. Maybe Iceland.
The Lad's voice softened. "Ahh, come on, mate, I don't bite. What's the worst that could happen?"
Mason's brain quickly raced through thirty-seven different scenarios of worst things that could happen, before deciding to just go with it. He dusted himself down and a few moments later let himself into the garden. He stared in wonder at his chained neighbour covered with mud.
Jake was mortified to be seen in this condition by his young neighbour but couldn't help notice his cock swelling in his trackies at the situation.
The Lad beckoned over his new friend, noting the light grey Nike Tech Fleece pants and Vapormax trainers. They were paired with a simple white Nike vest. The whole package was perfect on his lithe body.
Mason nervously approached. He flinched slightly as The Lad put a comforting arm across his shoulder.
"Don't be nervous. We're all friends here," The Lad said with a cheeky grin. He looked the neighbour up and down. "You're well fit, y'know."
Before Mason had the chance to blush, they were kissing, led aggressively by The Lad, who held his new friend's head firmly. He slipped his hand down Mason's side and snaked under the waistband of his trackies. He happily found no underwear to impede his journey further, and he stroked the neighbour’s rapidly expanding penis. Mason reacted with a guttural 'mmphhf!'
By the time The Lad broke off the kiss Mason was breathless, his face a shade of crimson. He was shocked and euphoric at the same time.
Jake sat there open-mouthed at the display. Despite all the abuse The Lad had directed at him he couldn’t help but be jealous at the attention Mason was getting.
The Lad smiled at Mason. "Sweet, but I think you had someone else in mind . . . Do you want to fuck that?" He laughed, tossing his head in Jake’s direction.
"What?!" exclaimed Jake, unable to control himself any further.
The Lad's face turned to a scowl. "Shut your fucking mouth! You speak when you are spoken to. Last thing I want is a chatty cunt!"
He turned back to Mason, raising an eyebrow. Mason responded by biting his lip in an apparent attempt to reconcile his conflicting feelings.
The Lad nodded and extended his open hand in Jake’s direction. "He's all yours,” he said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “The back of his trackies is always ripped open so you'll have easy access to his fuck hole."
Mason walked over to the pen and glanced at the muddy pit in front of him. He glanced back at The Lad, trying to work out if he was expected to cross the mud pit.
"Off you go then," said The Lad.
That answered that question, thought Mason. He slipped off his Vapormax—they were brand new—showing off his white Nike socks and hesitantly took a step into the mud. He immediately felt the slimy dampness on the soles of his feet; the mud oozing between and over the top of his toes. He continued across to Jake, occasionally sliding a little but able to maintain his balance.
He quickly reached his prize, still not quite able to comprehend what was happening. Had he dwelled too long he might have chickened out, but after a glance across to The Lad, met with a quick nod of approval, he slid down his pants just enough to allow his thick erect cock to pop out.
Jake gulped as he looked at the large penis looming above him. Who'd have thought quite shy Mason would be packing such a piece, thought Jake. It's always the quiet ones . . .
The cock was brought into sharper focus as Mason dropped to his knees, sinking his grey Nike Tech Fleece into the mud. All second thoughts had been banished. He reached behind Jake's head and pulled him up to give himself easy access to his throat. No sooner had Jake opened his mouth than it was filled with Mason's monster.
He started out like a wild animal before Jake smoothed him into a steadier rhythm, his experienced and well used neck able to take the full length.
Mason sighed at the sensation, his eyes closed, but Jake knew it wouldn't be long before another one of his holes would have to accommodate Mason's lust.
The Lad was enjoying the show. He wasn't sure why but watching Jake be used like a sex doll amused him. He glanced across to the discarded Vapormax, thinking how hot they looked. He slipped off the BWs and tried one on. It fit like a glove so he quickly donned the other one. He smiled broadly, loving the way they looked and felt. Payment for services rendered, he decided.
He looked back at Jake, who was no longer sucking on Mason's toy. Instead, he was lying face down in the mud while Mason explored the pre-made hole in the back of Jake’s trackies. For a long time, Mason had badly wanted to fuck his neighbour but never thought he would get the chance.
Jake was momentarily worried that Mason might try to stuff his cock in without any lubrication. He needn’t have worried as, after a moment of quick thinking, Mason scooped up some of the mud, marvelling at how smooth and sensual it felt, and slathered his cock. He eased through the welcoming hole into the waiting welcoming hole beyond. After a moment of adjustment, he started pounding away, hand on Jake's back to keep him steady, the weight forcing Jake's face deep into the mud.
Rock hard himself, it didn't take Jake long before the constant pounding of his prostate and the grinding of his cock against the slippery ground caused a surge in his balls. He gasped as he started convulsing, clamping his buttocks even tighter around Mason's cock. For Mason it was the final straw, and he shot load after load into Jake’s squirming arse before collapsing on top of him.
The Lad smiled, taking a final draw on his cigarette before slinging it across the garden. "You're welcome to use him whenever you want,” he said to Mason. “No need to ask, his gate is always open." Then he looked at Jake, and his smile had a hard edge to it. "Now, you filthy pig, treat our guest properly and clean his cock! Mouth open . . ."
* * *
Jake sat bolt upright, now fully awake. He stared forlornly at the blanket; it was his only comfort now that the floor had become his bed.
"You awake?" barked The Lad. "Thank fuck for that! You've been squirming and squealing for the last ten minutes. Noisy cunt. What were you dreaming of? Actually, I don't want to know—get up here now! You've got work to do."
Jake felt the dampness of his Nike trunks against his skin and sighed. It had happened again. He looked up at The Lad sat up on what used to be his bed. No rest for the wicked, he mused.
He crawled up onto the bed, the covers already having been thoughtfully pulled back. He tugged at the black Adidas football shorts The Lad was wearing to reveal his cock. It bounced into view, before settling in an upright position. Jake knew his job and quickly got to work, bobbing up and down on his breakfast pole.
It was while Jake was down at the base that The Lad suddenly held his head. Jake wondered what was happening.
"Got a treat for ya!" The Lad said cheerily.
Jake felt a strong squirt of liquid hit the back of his throat. He gagged a little but managed to regain his composure, swallowing dank, acrid juice. A second blast happened and this time he was ready. The Lad continued to control his flow so as not to overwhelm Jake, as he emptied the first piss of the day directly into his stomach.
He glanced down at Jake. "Good, eh? Now we can get two jobs done in one go!" He let go of Jake's head. "Now get the second part done. Do it properly because this is your breakfast this morning. We need to get going, so you'll only have time to prepare mine."
Jake continued his task, not that he really minded—in fact he loved servicing this hot guy. He did, however, object to not having any proper breakfast, outside of the fast-food delivery of protein that would shortly be delivered at great speed directly down his throat. Not that he'd say anything. He was intrigued about where they were going though . . .
* * *
Jake squirmed in the car seat. While he was thankful that The Lad had given him free range over what he wore today, he was less impressed by the Bluetooth vibrator he had instructed Jake to insert in himself.
"Bored!" said The Lad loudly. "Increase!"
Jake felt the intensity increase as the car Bluetooth, which had been paired with the pulsating device, relayed the instruction. He mused that he was not necessarily upset about the vibrator per se, more so that it had been continuously active for the last ten minutes and was now posing an existential threat to the new, clean underwear he was wearing.
"I hate traffic jams!" declared The Lad.
"Umm, could you maybe turn down a bit for a bit, please?"
"What? Oh, I
could, yes. I'm not, though." The Lad turned to Jake with a
smirk. Jake rolled his eyes
–but only in his
mind—he hadn’t known Jake long but he'd already learnt
that nothing good came from that look.
"I need entertainment. Get your cock out!"
Jake's eyes widened; that was a bold ask in such a public place! His hand lingered nervously on the waistband of his black Nike PSG trackies. He loved how tight, stretchy and shiny they were, so when he was given the free choice of what to wear he knew instantly.
"Don't make me ask again!"
The car was in the inside lane with a haulage truck beside them, a white van in front and a car behind. He figured no one would be able to see what was going on, so with a small sigh, he hooked down his trackies and boxers and pulled his cock out.
"Good," said The Lad with only a cursory glance, followed by an order barked to the Bluetooth link in the car. "Decrease!"
Jake was relieved at the reduction but, as they sat in silence, he wondered how long he would have to remain in this state.
Finally, he worked up the nerve to ask. "Umm, how long should I stay like this?"
"Until you cum. And don't you dare get a drop on my car!"
The blood drained from Jake's face. Surely that was too much to ask!
"I'd get to it while we’re still stuck here if I was you. It'd be quite the sight for everyone to see you whacking off at 70 miles per hour." The Lad looked out over the jammed-up traffic and frowned as his voice turned to a mumble. "If we ever . . ."
It was a fair point, Jake thought, and he busily got down to masturbating. His mind was also processing how he wasn't going to spray everywhere. He certainly didn't want to mess up the clean and unripped clothes he had been allowed to change into, and while he couldn't care less about the car's upholstery, he cared a lot about the consequences.
"Off," The Lad said, interrupting Jake's thoughts.
Jake felt the sensation in his arse subside. "Hey, no fair!"
"I decide what is fair. Best not forget that."
Jake sighed; he knew what he had to do. He kicked off his Nike BW and pulled off his clean white Nike sock. He quickly slipped the sock over his cock and went back to trying to ensure he came as quickly as possible.
He had had much practice in such a task over the years, so before long he could feel the rush coming. He closed his eyes and furiously pummelled away.
"Oh. Oh fuck!" he half shouted a minute later, the intensity of his exposed situation increasing the orgasm, as he unloaded wave after wave of cum into his sock.
When he was finally spent, he slowly opened his eyes, relieved that he had completed the task. It was then he caught sight of the young work lad in a high vis jacket who was standing in front of the car, his mouth hanging open.
"He just appeared out of the white van,” The Lad chuckled beside him. “Obviously wanted to stretch his legs."
"Why didn't you . . . Fuck!" Jake spluttered and hurriedly pulled his trackies back up. His face had gone red but his cock was already trying to get hard again, which only added to his humiliation.
“Because it was funny," replied The Lad matter-of-factly. He waved at the work lad who smiled sheepishly before disappearing back into the van.
Without preamble, The Lad demanded "Sock!" and held out his hand. Jake fumbled in his trackies and pulled out the sodden article. He hesitated before placing it on the hand offered to him.
"I'm not sure you're ever going to learn but we'll keep trying. You do not question me, okay?" The Lad said in a steely voice.
Jake started to say 'sorry' only to have the cum-drenched sock stuffed in his mouth. The Lad used two fingers to push it all the way in. Jake gagged on the overwhelming taste and smell of his own cum.
The Lad reached over and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a roll of silver tape. He ripped off a strip and fastened it over Jake's mouth, firmly securing the drenched sock in place. "Now, you'll be on your best behaviour or I won't be treating you to dinner in my hometown!"
Jake's eyebrow rose sharply. He hadn’t expected the trip would be such a long one. Or involve dinner.
* * *
Dinner—and a few pints at the pub after—turned out to be only a short walk from The Lad’s house. Now, The Lad and Jake were sitting in a bus shelter. "Did you enjoy your meal then?" The Lad asked, slightly slurring his words.
Jake shuffled in the bus shelter’s plastic seat. His eyes drooped briefly, laden by the alcohol consumed after the meal. "Yes, thank you," he replied.
When The Lad had said he was taking him to his favourite restaurant, Jake hadn’t been sure what to expect. He definitely hadn’t expected to be dining at the Golden Arches. Still, he didn't complain; he liked a burger, and beer even more. The Lad nodded and declared it was time to go on a little trip. “To one of my favourite places,” he said.
The Lad drew on his cigarette and glanced up to the bus schedule. He tutted at the eight minutes they still had to wait. His attention was drawn to the lengthening ash at the end of the cigarette, and he reached out his hand and waggled it in Jake's general direction.
Jake was confused. It was obvious something was required, but what that was completely passed him by. He gulped as the waggling got more impatient. The Lad had turned his head to stare directly at him, his eyes starting to narrow; storm clouds on the horizon.
Jake decided to take a punt and slipped off his left Nike BW and deposited the trainer in The Lad’s outstretched hand.
"'Bout time . . ." The Lad responded gruffly. He moved the shoe towards him and tapped the cigarette ash into it. Jake looked away and down at his white socked foot. He hesitated for a moment and, deciding against the cold and damp floor, crossed his legs at the ankles.
The Lad finished the cigarette and lit another one from the dying embers. Once done, he stubbed out the old one on the toe box of his makeshift ashtray. Jake bit his lip, well aware that saying anything could make matters a whole lot worse.
They sat in silence for a few minutes until they saw the bus coming in the distance. The Lad quickly went to stub out his fag on the toe box but lingered once contact was made. The material squealed as it melted under the heat and pressure. The Lad wasn't looking at that though, his eyes were fixed on Jake to gauge his reaction. Jake just stared at the scene, transfixed.
The Lad snorted at the non-reaction and tossed the BW into the bin. Jake winced at the clonk as it hit the bottom.
"Time to go, cunt."
Jake got up, with no choice but to put his white sock down on the dirty, wet floor. He felt the dampness starting to sleep through to his feet and felt his cock start to twitch.
"You look even more stupid than usual!" The Lad laughed. "I'll help you out—get rid of the other one."
Jake sighed. He drew his right foot up and removed his remaining shoe. Both of his socks were now messed up as he walked across to the bin. For a moment, he rested the BW on the edge of the hole in the side of the large covered bin, then let it go. Clonk.
"See? Much better!" said The Lad upon hearing it hit the bottom. "What do you say?"
"Thank you," mumbled Jake, not really feeling thankful.
"Good. And what are you?"
"I'm a cunt," replied Jake.
"I see. What sort of cunt?"
Jake hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what response was expected. "I'm your cunt," he finally said.
The Lad smiled. "Yes. Yes, you are. Right, the bus is here. Let's go!"
* * *
They sat at the back on the top deck of the bus. To be precise, The Lad was lounging in the centre of the back seat while Jake resided in the seat in front.
Jake felt a rap of knuckle lightly tap him on his head. He turned around to face The Lad.
"Get on the floor,” The Lad said. “Face down. It's where you belong and I need a footrest."
Jake looked down the length of the bus. It wasn't busy; there were just a few people spotted around. He glanced up at the security camera, which showed the driver what was happening upstairs (and recorded it). He hesitated for a moment, then stood up from the seat so he could lie on the wet, muddy and generally filthy floor. Normally he would have jumped at the chance but he was keenly aware he had no other clothes with him.
The Lad decided it was taking far too long for his slave to follow his order. He reached across and yanked down Jake's Nike trackies.
Jake yelped at the sudden exposure, which in turn caused a drunk woman further down the bus to turn around. She laughed at the sight of a semi-naked man, his bare legs and Nike briefs displayed for all to see. Jake blushed and quickly started to reach down to pull his pants back up.
The Lad had anticipated this and placed his Vapormax onto the bunched trackies, clamping them to the ground. It only took a little push to send Jake off balance and sprawling to the floor. His North Face jacket rode up as his arms spread forward to break his fall, fully exposing his bright red Nike briefs.
The Lad chuckled at the scene, savouring the sight of the curves of Jake's fit arse through the thin fabric of his underwear. He was going to enjoy ploughing that later.
Jake was caught off guard and was unaware that his legs had completely slid out of his trackies. Before he could react, The Lad reached down and scooped them up.
Jake's attempt to push himself up off the floor was rudely curtailed. The Lad pushed his shoe firmly down on Jake's right buttock cheek, forcing Jake's briefs back down on the filthy floor. The Lad wiped his foot across the briefs, leaving a dirty mark. He repeated the action with his other foot, using Jake's arse as an impromptu door mat. He looked down at his handiwork and was pleased that his slave’s briefs were smeared with damp mud.
Jake shut his eyes. He couldn't believe he was so turned on with this situation. His cock strained against the damp front of his briefs. The Lad told him to turn over and he knew better than not to comply. He was looking directly up at his tormentor but he couldn't help but find him utterly fit.
The Lad raised his foot and quickly started to accelerate to Jake's groin. He slowed down at the last moment, gently landing on the bulging cock. Jake let out an 'offft' as the Nike shoe massaged his cock; it was already fully erect and in complete control of his body.
Keeping his foot on Jake's cock, The Lad executed a simple sidestep and pushed the scrunched-up trackies through the bus’s long narrow window. Jake realised far too late what had happened and could only watch in shock as his Nike trackies—his only pair of pants—briefly billowed across the back window before disappearing forever.
And that's when he came. Floods of it that turned his red briefs a darker hue. It glistened in the artificial light of the bus.
The Lad was surprised at the turn of events, but only slightly. Jake had taken to exploding spontaneously, probably on account he wasn't allowed to play with himself.
"Now," The Lad started sternly, "I hope you've finally learned that when I tell you to do something, you do it. Without hesitation." He reached across and pressed the button on the vertical handrail. "Next stop is ours," he announced cheerfully, extending a hand to help Jake up.
Jake suddenly realised the predicament he was in; pantless in cum-soaked, wet and muddy bright red briefs and no shoes on the top deck of a double-decker bus. It looked even more ridiculous that his upper body was covered by his big puffy North Face jacket and Nike gloves.
The Lad just about managed to stifle a snigger at Jake's current state. He reached over and gently unzipped his slave’s coat. There was no reaction or attempt to stop it happening; Jake was resigned to the thought that he'd be leaving the bus in just his underwear.
The jacket slid down his arms, revealing a light blue Nike t-shirt, before leaving his body completely. Jake fully expected it to follow his trackies out of the window but instead The Lad wrapped the arms around Jake's waist and tied them together. The main part of the jacket hung down at the rear, affording some modesty to his arse.
The bus started to slow, and The Lad thought about making Jake lead the way, his cum-sodden briefs on show for all to see. He hesitated for a moment, then decided he would lead instead, so as to provide some shielding to his ward. There was such a thing as being too cruel, he mused, and Jake had been very compliant.
"Come on then, let's go!" said The Lad, marching off down the aisle. Jake hurried after him, trying to keep as close as possible.
* * *
They strode down the tow path. The full moon cast a silvery glow across the water, giving them the light they needed to find their way. Jake had put his coat back on and was now walking around in public in a carefree manner without any pants and his socks squishing into the muddy path.
“This is my favourite place!” The Lad declared. “I wanted to show it to you. That we have some nature here in the city. Whenever anyone says that Birmingham has more canals than Venice, people usually snort and say ‘Yeah, but it is Birmingham’. Snooty cunts. I mean, have they actually seen Venice? I mean really seen it? It’s a shitehole—falling apart, smells and sinking into the sea. How dare they dismiss my home like that!”
Jake could feel the pent-up anger; it felt like electricity sparking from his companion. The ensuing silence felt uncomfortable.
“I like it here,” ventured Jake. “It’s calm and peaceful.”
The Lad stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards Jake. “I knew you’d understand,” he said softly and cupped Jake’s head with his hand. Jake rested into it knowing what it meant but was still surprised when The Lad leant in and kissed him. Jake readily returned the affection.
When the kiss broke off, Jake remained with his eyes shut for a moment. It was the first time The Lad had shown any intimacy towards him; proper, real affection.
The Lad pursed his lips before offering a sheepish smile. “Ahh, busted, I guess.”
“It’s okay. I liked that. A lot.”
There was another pause, longer this time. “I go back to work tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make sure you have the train fare home,” The Lad replied matter-of-factly.
Jake was taken aback by the sudden change in tone. “Oh,” was all he could manage.
“I mean, I’m a city lad and you’re a country boy. It could never work . . .” said The Lad quietly.
“Well . . . well, I guess I could change,” Jake replied. “I think I could be happy here . . .”
The Lad put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Why the fuck would I want you to change?” he said, shaking his head. “You’re amazing; just perfect the way you are. That’s why I . . .” His voice trailed off.
Jake blushed, euphoric at the compliment but heartbroken that this adventure was seemingly coming to an end. They didn’t live close to each other, but still . . . “Maybe you could come and visit? And I could visit you?” he offered.
“I’m not much for long distance relationships,” The Lad replied. “I think we should just leave this as an amazing couple of days. Something to remember for the rest of our lives.”
“Okay,” Jake eventually responded, thoroughly unconvinced.
Another long silence followed before The Lad said, “You’re going to like my flat; the balcony overlooks the city. You’ll enjoy that, which is just as well as that’s where you are sleeping tonight.”
“Oh, am I now?” answered Jake, emboldened.
“Yeah. I might join you out there. It’s beautiful. I’m definitely going to fuck you out there.”
“Yeah. And you best be quiet.”
“Oh?” Jake replied playfully. “Don't you want to annoy the neighbours?”
The Lad smirked. “Duty of care; it’s a glass-fronted balcony. If you squeal—as you normally do, I should add—someone might look out and see your pathetic cock and balls squashed up against it as I plough your colon.”
“I see.” Jake looked across to The Lad. “And would you be upset if that happened?”
The Lad simply smiled and leant in for another kiss. A kiss that Jake was never going to refuse.
“Ahhh fuck,” said The Lad as he abruptly broke off the kiss.
“I need a piss.”
Jake felt The Lad press down on his shoulder and knew what was expected. Obediently, he sank to his knees and let his eyes drift up to The Lad’s face. It was such a beautiful sight, he mused.
The Lad fished out his cock and met Jake’s gaze. Such a good boy, he thought, just the perfect face to piss on.
The hot stream started to flow and so he aimed it towards Jake's open mouth. He directed it around, ensuring the whole head was covered. Jake's jacket was already wet, but soon it was fully in the firing line. He unzipped the coat, reaching his hands out wide so his tee could also soak up some piss. The Lad obliged and continued on down to the still damp briefs.
Once his briefs were soaked, Jake moved towards the cock that was still dishing out a strong, but diminishing, stream of piss. He took it in his mouth and started to gulp down the last servings.
The Lad sighed, pulled his cock from Jake's mouth, and stuffed it back into his trackies. He reached down and offered Jake a hand to get him back on his feet.
"Come on, a balcony awaits you," he said, smiling.
Jake got to his feet, returning the smile as they restarted their journey down the canal.
"We'll go shopping tomorrow morning before you catch your train," said The Lad.
"After all, I couldn't let you go in just your underwear!"
"What? I thought you would lend me some of your stuff?!"
"No fucking way!" snorted The Lad. "I'm not lending you anything, you always end up losing it!"
Jake's eyes widened. "I'm going shopping like this?! In a busy city shopping centre?!" he spluttered.
The Lad laughed. "Yes. But we'll see how . . . 'flexible' you are tonight. And I'll be paying for your new stuff anyway," he said, waving a wallet in the air.
"Hey! That's my wallet!"
"Oh yeah, so it is. So, it turns out you paid for dinner and drinks last night! So useful they have raised the contactless limit, don't you agree?"
"Fuck," was the only reply Jake could muster. A silence descended over their walk, but it was a comfortable one. It was then that he realised that they were holding hands, something that had started as The Lad hauled him up. Jake looked across to The Lad who was staring out into the distance.
As if he had read Jake’s mind, The Lad said matter-of-factly, “We only have to do this until that old brick bridge down there.” He nodded toward the bridge about one hundred metres away.
Jake smiled and gripped his hand a little tighter as they continued down the towpath. They arrived at the bridge and rounded the corner beyond it, fingers still entwined.
The Boy On The Train by sneaked666
Inspired by jake
Photos by jake
Edited by sz1415sneakers
Hey You. If you enjoyed reading this story, maybe you could donate a coffee to me? Or you can contact me here if you have anything to say. Anyway, thanks for reading this!