John waited, blindfolded, in the middle of this room he had never seen. There was distant traffic noise, but muffled. And could he hear breathing? His senses were alert, picking up signals in a new, primal way.
He thought he could feel someone approach. He listened hard. One man? More than one?
And then warm breath on his cheek. He held his breath, not wanting to give anything away by his reaction. The breath was pleasant, slightly mint, but something about it was insistent, almost testing him.
The man was moving around his body. He blew gently on John’s other cheek. Then lower, his neck, and moving round to behind him. Closer now, the warm male breath at the back of his neck, just at the top of his spine, at the point his skin became exposed out of the tight sports top he had been given to wear.
And then the breathing stopped. John felt nothing again. He felt he was being played with, was this guy - these guys? - going to do anything? Unasked for, an image of his girlfriend came into his mind. For some reason he could imagine her, sitting on the other side of the room, watching him. He felt a weird mixture of embarrassment and sexual arousal at the image.
And then the guy breathed again. Despite himself, John flinched with surprise at the warm sensation at the back of his head. And then, just at the point where the breath had touched his skin, a finger landed gently.
The man’s finger slid slightly under the neck of John’s top, pulling it away from his skin, and then released the tension, letting the thin material flick gently back against his body. Was he being played with?
The finger ran down the top of John’s spine, pressing slightly more firmly, ensuring John could feel the touch through the lycra. Slowly but determinedly this man’s finger traced its way down John’s back, getting ever closer to the bottom of the shirt, and the waist band of his tight shorts. John knew what this guy wanted, and prepared himself for the finger to go lower...
And then it stopped. He was confused. John could feel how the muscles of his buttocks had clenched involuntarily as the man’s touch approached them. It was as if his body wanted the touch to continue. But nothing.
And then a hand pressed onto his chest. It felt like someone had reached around from behind him to place the whole of his palm on the right hand side of John’s well developed chest. And this touch was less delicate, more possessive. Fingers caressed the thin sports top around John’s nipple. He felt it stiffen at the man’s touch. The hand pressed harder, finger and thumb squeezing the young man’s firm little teat. Fuck, this was more serious. John felt something he couldn’t quite put into words - a sense that his body was no longer entirely his own. And yet that it was unbearably exciting... |