House on Park, Part 6

After hosing ourselves off again and getting back into those silk shorts, Claude suggested we go down to the living room and drink beer and watch a football game on TV. So, down we went. After I tossed off my first beer, I began to feel a little sorry for the dude hanging up in the gym and asked if it would be okay if I went in there and cleaned him up a bit and put some salve on the new hole Claude had dug him. Eric said, "Sure," and got some ointment for me and told me where a big basin and some soft sponges were. Claude told me not to worry too much about the dude—that they planned to let him go in a while. As I got up to go, Claude said not to be too long because they were going to order in for some pizza.

When I entered the gym the dude looked forlorn, his head hanging down and his arms lifted above his head. He could stand on the floor, but I was sure his arms were getting a little tired. And very nice arms they were. His whole body was fascinating, with its intricate swirling tattoo designs over solid, cut muscles that made him just short of being stocky. He looked up at me when I came in and implored me to let him go before that Claude monster came back, that he'd painfully learned not to try coming back here again.

"No can do, Dude," I said, as I pulled out the basin, ran several inches of water in it, and put it at the dude's feet, making him stand in the water. "This isn't my house, and it's not my call. But I can clean you up and make you a little more comfortable. I don't think they plan to keep you much longer. But we did you a favor, really. If you wind up in prison, Claude has shown you what you have to look forward to there. And both Eric and I gave you some pointers on how you can manage to survive in prison by pleasing the boss men there."

I soaked up water in the sponge and started sponging his body off. For amusement, I followed the patterns on his body with the sponge, and, with delight, found one pattern that snaked down from his neck, around his torso, across a thigh, and curlicued around the base of his thick cock. I made sure to trace that pattern more than once. When I'd sponged him down pretty thoroughly, I opened the big tube of salve and squeezed out a big glop of ointment. He looked at me in anger and said, "Hey. whatcha gonna do with that? Haven't you queers done enough damage to my ass? Why don't you stick it to your own kind!"

"Our own kind?" I asked, with a laugh. "I thought I pretty much showed a little while ago that you at least could enjoy swinging both ways. I don't need to tell you that you enjoyed what I gave you. Or that you enjoyed this sponge bath. Oh, look what's already half saluting me here." I reached down with the hand that didn't have the salve in it and gently pushed back the foreskin of his uncut cock and placed my thumb on his piss slit and started rubbing up and down. The dude gave an involuntary gasp and moan, but he made no move to get his pecker away from my attention.

"This is good ointment," I said. "This will both help heal the damage Claude did and take away some of the pain down there. Within a couple of hours, you should feel fine."

While still holding his foreskin back with my left hand and thumbing his hole gently, I moved around behind him and lowered my mouth to his asshole. I wetted it with my tongue, and gently kissed and tongued around his swollen rim and made short forays into the ass canal. The dude made little circular motions with his body, and although he started off with murmured protests that I stop, he went silent pretty fast. I then started working the ointment in gently with my fingers, and he sighed and let me know that was making his ass feel a lot better.

Without letting loose of his cock, which was growing in size, I moved the basin of water from under him, picked up a towel, and slowly and completely toweled him off.

"There. That's made a new man of you," I said cheerfully, as I moved back in front of him, still engaging his cock in my left hand. "Now, how's the arm strain?"

He allowed as his arms were quite tired and implored me again to let him down off the hook.

"Can't do that, Dude," But I can take the strain off them for a while, if you'd like. Yeah, he said, that would be great. I let loose of his cock then, which was probably just about as big as it was going to get, and reached down and brought his legs up, folding them at the knees and hoisting him high enough with my arms that his cock was in my face. That had been my plan all along, of course, and I took my lips and pushed his foreskin back with them and took his knob into my mouth.

"Hey come on, man—no more of the queer stuff."

I plopped his dick out of my mouth. "So, you want me to put the weight back on your arms."

"No."

"Then this is the tradeoff," I said. "Don't try to forget how much you liked this, this afternoon." I then went back to work on his dick. Taking the knob back into my mouth, I swirled my tongue around it, as I felt his intake of breath and a long moan escaped his lips. I then took more of him in and gave the sides of his cock some gentle teeth pressure. He was voluntarily pressing at me now, so I deep-swallowed him and gave him teeth pressure at the very root of his dick. It gave me added pleasure to know that I was nibbling at that little curlicue tattooed tail.

"Ah, man," he groaned. I then took my teeth away, got my tongue cupped under his rod opened up for him, inviting him to take control, to do the action. And that's what he did. He was fucking my face, all on his own. And I could tell by his "oh, yes's," and "God, that's good's" that he was fully into the moment. I already knew he was a fast shooter, so it didn't take him long to come. I let his legs back down and sank to my knees and went up behind his now-tumescent cock and gave his big balls some sucking and nibbling attention. And then I just stood up and walked out of the room.