Ben Is Surprised Heterosexually

BEN IS SURPRISED, HETEROSEXUALLY

Widmer Street is a short street, only two blocks long, smack dab in the heart of Toronto's Entertainment District, a bustling neighbourhood jam-packed these days with high-rise condominiums, tech industry offices, restaurants, bars, and theatres. The District serves as the annual home of the Toronto Film Festival which attracts thousands of fans eager to gawk at the stars and watch their movies.

It's complete transformed from the way it looked back in the nineteen-seventies, when it was a run-down jumble of small, two story commercial buildings and empty warehouses. Widmer Street, now graced by high-priced condo complexes, was home in those days to derelict factory buildings and small, two-story commercial buildings.

After work and on weekends, the street was deserted, which was ideal for anyone who didn't want to be seen entering one of those buildings; the Barracks Steam Bath, where the city's gay leather men gathered to suck, fuck and fist, and maybe even tie up and spank each other.

I was a regular visitor who didn't care who saw me; a skinny, blue-eyed six-foot white boy in my mid-twenties, with short clone-cut dark hair, a Freddie Mercury mustache, a hairless body, an average sized dick and oversized balls, on the lookout for a dominating older man of the kind that had introduced me to gay BDSM back in my native England.

It was a Thursday December evening in the mid-seventies and the weatherman was forecasting a big snowstorm. Most sensible people were not going out, but I was horny as hell after a difficult and tiring week at work and I desperately needed to blow off steam. The weather ruled out a trek across town to my favourite leather bar in the East End, but the Barracks were close and highly suitable for a horny bottom boy on a snowy night.

I cleaned myself out thoroughly, threw some toys into my backpack, and stepped out into the cold. By the time I ran up the front steps of the bath house the snow was already thick on the ground. That meant I'd have to find a master amongst the guys who were already there, since not many more would be making the trek in a blizzard.

I got a room, stripped off, wrapped a towel around my waist and strolled along the hallways. But it seemed I was out of luck; Thursdays were always quiet nights, and the snowstorm meant the place was almost empty. What was even worse was that the men on offer had little or nothing going for them.

Peering into room after room was a bottom boy's nightmare; not a single top in sight, just one dreary-looking guy after another, lying on his stomach, hoping for some one to fuck them.

I made out half-heartedly with one OK-looking older man but once he'd cum I decided to cut my losses and go home to watch Johnny Carson. But on my way back to my room, I was surprised to see a sexy newcomer heading out of the locker rooms. He was roughly my age and height, though a little taller and a lot more muscular. The towel around his waist hid his dick, but everything else looked good, dark olive skin, brown eyes, well-defined arms and shoulders, and a mass of thick black hair on his head and chest.

He turned as he was walking away and caught me staring at his sexy looking bum. He grinned seductively in response. Figuring he was just another bottom boy like me. I walked off in the opposite direction, still searching for a dominating older stud.

After spending a few boring minutes watching a dreary porn loop in the TV lounge I trailed back to my room, having given up on a disappointing night. But I left my door ajar (just in case!) and as I was pulling up my underwear, that same sexy guy appeared, closed the door behind him and spoke to me in a deep Southern accent.

"Hey, man, don't be leaving me here with all these old trolls. You and I are the only guys here under fifty."

Before I could answer, he pointed at the array of items sitting on the shelf next to my bed.

"And if that's the kind of thing you're into, I really want you to stay!"

What he was looking at were my usual accoutrements for an evening at the Barracks, handcuffs, nipple clamps, ropes, a ball gag and bottles of lube and poppers. I stared silently at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to ask the question uppermost on both our minds.

"They look interesting. Do you use them on guys, or do guy use them on you? I'm hoping you like to be topped. Is that how you swing?"

My evening was suddenly back on track! He might not be the older man of my dreams, but he was too good to let go! I said nothing, just nodded at him while pulling down my briefs, then dropped to my knees with my wrists crossed behind my back. He responded by pulling off his towel to reveal a soft, circumcised dick and a pair of hairy balls. He looked down and whispered under his breath,

"That's a good boy. He gets down on his knees without waiting to be told. Looks like we'll have some fun tonight."

He gave me his permission and I leant forward eagerly to suckle on his balls and lick around the cock head before swallowing the whole length down to the root. It tasted good as it quickly hardened into a good length and a satisfying thickness.

He played with his nipples while staring down at me trying my best to excite him. Apparently, I was doing all the right things, since it didn't take long before he stepped back for a break. That didn't surprise me; after all he'd only just arrived, far too soon to be cumming already!

I waited on my knees, hoping to get back on his dick once he'd calmed down, but instead he pulled me to my feet, shoved my face up against the wall and whispered in my ear.

"You'd better tell me what you don't like, or you might regret it later."

After I told him I drew the line at shit and permanent marks, he put the cuffs on my wrists, spun me around, pushed me back against the wall and started working on my tits. When I moaned excitedly, he squeezed and twisted harder and harder, then snapped on my heavy cloverleaf clamps and filled my open mouth with the ball gag.

I stood there, leaning back against the wall, reduced to unintelligible mumbling and drooling, having allowed a total stranger to bind and gag me, without discussing safe words or having any idea what he intended doing with me. But then, why else would a bondage pig like me be at the Barracks in the first place!

He picked up the poppers, closed one nostril with a finger and held the open bottle against the other until it felt like my head was exploding. I offered no resistance as he worked on my body; he tugged downwards on the chain between the nipple clamps, pinched my navel, licked my ears, bit my neck, squeezed my balls, and fondled my stiff, leaking dick.

Eventually he peeled me off the wall, bent me face-down on the thin rubber mattress and began to spank my ass hard and loud. Determined to prove I could take the pain without wriggling or squirming, I managed to keep still and luckily for me, just as it was really starting to hurt, he stopped hitting me.

A moment later I felt a squirt of lube drip down my crack, followed by a finger in my hole. When his second and third fingers twirled around inside me, I got excited, sure that a hot fuck was going to be my reward for taking the spanking so well.

But I was disappointed. He pulled his fingers out of my ass, leaving me empty and instead of fucking me, stood me up, and pushed me back against the wall.

"There'll be enough sucking and fucking later on, you horny slut, but I don't want to do you in this tiny room, with all these old trolls getting off listening to us. There's a lot more space at my place and a lot more time. Plus, my partner who loves dealing with submissive bottom boys like you.

"We live up at Yonge and St Clair and my cars around the corner. What have you got to lose? You were getting dressed when I came in, which means you'd already given up on the evening, right? What were you gonna do, man; go home and jerk off? Why not come home with me instead?"

I didn't have to be convinced. He was right about me being ready to leave the Barracks when he barged in on me and the thought of jerking off in front of the Tonight Show felt pretty sad compared to the prospect of a hot threesome. I nodded my head up and down in silent agreement, expecting him to uncuff me and take out the ball gag.

But instead of freeing me, he pushed the poppers up my nose again while tugging hard on the tit chain and squeezing my balls. I responded with noisy moaning and excited squirming and my dick started to leak a thick trail of precum and looked ready to pop at any moment.

But he was just playing with me, apparently wanting final proof of my needy submissiveness. Watching me react must have convinced him, since he suddenly let go and strode out of the room, leaving me naked, handcuffed and gagged, with clamps on my tits and my stiff dick on the verge of orgasm.

By the time he came back, I had myself under control, and managed to avoid spontaneously cumming when he released the tit clamps. He took out the gag and uncuffed me and waited while I got dressed, then we headed for the exit together. He stopped at the front door to make a call on the pay phone; I couldn't hear what was said, but presumed he was warning his partner about a new playmate.

We ran out into the cold and for the first few minutes he was silent as he concentrated on driving in the difficult conditions. I sat equally quietly, fantasising about what he and his partner were going to do to me later. Eventually he glanced over and broke the conversational ice, telling me his name was Charlie and that he was originally from Texas.

I told him my name was Ben and that I was from England and we began chatting about the weather and about our new hometown. With the ploughs already out and lots of downtown traffic to keep the roads relatively clear, it wasn't long before we were parked in the basement level garage of his apartment building.

But before getting out of the car, he turned in his seat, with a serious look on his face and said he needed to tell me something before we went upstairs.

"I kind of misled you back there about my partner. You must have assumed I meant a man. Well, it's not a him it's a her, and her name is Louise!"

I'd run into my share of fucked-up, so-called straight guys in the half-decade since I'd come out, but this was the first time I'd been taken home to meet the wife! My immediate reaction was to tell him to fuck off. I turned to retrieve my backpack from the back seat where I'd dumped it, intending to jerk open my door and leave, but before I could do so he grabbed my arm and asked me to hear him out. Very reluctantly, I sat back to listen.

"I know this is a surprise, but I figured you might not come if I told you right away."

He proceeded to explain that despite the way he acted back in my room, he was actually a submissive like me. He said he'd recognized it about himself back in college and in the same way that I lusted after masterful men, he looked for assertive women. He'd met his current lover when she'd been on work assignment and had come back to Toronto with her at the end of her contract.

She and he played around with a group of straight swingers into BDSM. But they were mostly male-led couples, with virtually none of them led by female dominants. In the rabidly sexist Playboy nineteen-seventies, very few straight men would admit to being submissive. Even if they allowed themselves to be tied up or whipped or made to use their tongues "down there", they rebelled at the mere mention of ass play.

In consequence, they'd found very few players like themselves. They'd arranged with one of the rare couples that were like them to come for a session that night, but they were from north of the city and the storm had forced them to cancel.

He and his partner were extremely disappointed and hated giving up on their evening, especially since the male half of the other couple had claimed to be ready to experiment with some extended ass play. So, as they sat thinking about the disappointing end to their evening, he'd remembered what a gay friend of his had once told him about the Barracks.

"He said the place was full of submissive guys who'd flock around a butch young guy like me like flies to shit. And he was right; ten minutes after I walk in, I had you on your knees, wearing handcuffs and sucking my cock!"

At that point I had to interrupt him.

"Listen man, you should know, I've never once been with a woman. I kept away from girls when I was a teenager and came out with a guy in my first year at college. I don't know what your game is but picking up a gay guy to mess around with your wife sounds kind of sick. Is this a joke on her or on me or both of us?"

"It's no joke, man, it's a chance for Louise and me to do things we rarely get to do with straight guys. They claim to be submissive, but when it comes down to actually playing with a dominant woman, all they'll allow is some light bondage, and a short spell with a flogger. Louise never gets to punish them like she does me and none of them will ever give up their ass to a woman.

"Come on man, you'll have a good time upstairs, I promise. What are you frightened of? Worried that one night with a woman will turn you straight? A couple of guys sucked me off in college, but it didn't turn me queer. Besides, you're here now and what's your alternative, trudge home in the snow and jerk off in front of the TV?"

He was right of course. I had the choice of tramping three blocks in the middle of a snowstorm up to the St Clair subway station then wait downtown for a streetcar to appear out of the blizzard or stay in the warm and having an interesting new adventure.

Which didn't mean that I wasn't super nervous about my first time with a woman. I hadn't lied about my heterosexual virginity; all it had taken was one night of excitement with a stern older man in college to release me from my asexual virginity and turn me into an eager, gay bondage bottom. I'd never considered sex with a woman since.

Already nervous and excited, I was even more confused when Charlie let slip some information in the elevator on the way up to their floor.

"Louise isn't expecting me to bring home someone your age. The people we normally play with are usually her age or older. I'm always the youngest guy in the room. She's expecting an older guy, not someone even younger than me, so don't be put off is she looks a bit strange at you, OK?"

I'd always looked young for my age, earning me problems with barmen and bouncers and getting me mistaken for the office boy at work, but before I had a chance to tell him I was probably the same age as he was, the elevator doors opened, and he strode away down the corridor.

We turned into his apartment, and once we'd taken our overcoats and shoes off in the foyer, I followed him into the silent darkness of a large, unlit living room. We'd only got a few feet into it before a lamp was switched on, exposing not the handsome older boyfriend of my earlier fantasies, but a striking woman in her mid-forties.

She was tall and curvy, with big breasts and an imposing Greek nose at the centre of a large round face. She had striking green eyes and long dark hair pulled back in a bun and was wearing tight black leather pants and a white silk blouse. I hadn't known what to expect, but even this confirmed homosexual could see why a submissive straight man would cream his jeans at the very sight of her, that's for sure.

I was impressed, but the feeling was clearly not mutual. As Charlie had forecast, she wasn't happy to see someone as young as me. She didn't even acknowledge my presence, ignoring me while speaking sharply to him.

"Charlie, this is a boy not a man. Couldn't you find anyone more mature? Your friend Joe said the place was full of mature men and instead, you bring me a skinny boy, standing and blushing like a schoolgirl."

She turned her hostile gaze directly at me, making me wonder why I didn't just turn around and walk right out of there. But while I stood dithering, Charlie began to tell her what a bunch of unattractive losers the other guys were and that I was eager to get fucked and to take heavy punishment.

She didn't look convinced but did seem willing to reconsider. She ordered Charlie to go get a bottle of wine, sat down in her armchair, invited me to sit on the couch and to my great surprise, began making polite conversation.

I could hardly believe what was happening: I'd come expecting a BDSM scene and had ended up at a cocktail party! After fifteen minutes of chit-chat, we'd polished off the wine and the two of them had disappeared into the kitchen "to wash up" and, obviously, to talk out of my earshot. When they finished, Charlie remained behind and she came over to where I sat, staring me down as she spoke.

"Charlie tells me you're not only a submissive faggot, you're also a heterosexual virgin. Is that true?"

Before I could answer, she leant down and gave me the first serious kiss I'd ever had from a woman. I was shocked and felt my breath being taken away as her tongue invaded my mouth. I tried to give as good as I got, until she suddenly pulled away. Looking up, I noticed Charlie standing behind her in the process of stripping off his clothes.

Louise looked at him and then back at me with an impatient, questioning look on her face. She didn't need to say anything; I had a choice; get up and leave or get with the programme. Since I'd already decided back in Charlie's car to go along with whatever happened, I stood up and got naked alongside him.

She took her time inspecting me before speaking again.

"Well, Charlie, that pale white skin of his should show the marks quite nicely and it's a sexy contrast to your dark looks. His cock's still hard, so being kissed by a woman wasn't too much of a shock. You might be right; this could work out."

She stared at us for a couple of minutes, then ordered me to get to my knees in front of Charlie and suck his cock. I was embarrassed, since I'd never done anything remotely sexual in front of a woman, but Charlie's cock was too inviting to ignore, especially after tasting him back at the Barracks!

Since he didn't look shocked and made no attempt to move away, I figured he'd been given his marching orders back in the kitchen, a fact that became obvious as the evening went along.

He was only half-hard to begin with, but half a minute of ball-licking and energetic cock sucking later, his precum began leaking down my throat, getting me as excited as him. Glancing up and seeing a far-away look on his face, I momentarily forgot who else was in the room and started jerking my own dick.

But when she saw me grabbing it, Louise instantly ordered me to let go; she knew what men are like and feared a boy like me would lose interest in the scene the moment I came. She was right and I knew it; I put my hands out of mischief, behind my back, right away.

So, while I continued to suck her boyfriend's dick, she pulled on a pair of skin-tight black leather gloves and began playing with his nipples, making him gasp with excitement, proof that even so-called "straight" guys get off on tit play. Obviously aware of her boyfriend's triggers and seeing how close he was getting close to orgasm, she let go and pulled him away from me just when I thought I was going to earn a mouthful of cum.

Telling him to keep his distance from me she disappeared for a few moments into their bedroom, leaving me on my knees, staring wistfully at his hard cock; so near yet so far. She returned with an old sheet to drape over the couch, which I figured to be a good sign. If she was worried about her furniture getting messed up, something interesting must be about to happen!

My guess that Charlie had been told what to do was confirmed when Charlie immediately walked around behind the couch without her saying a word. He bent over the back with his arms out in front, his head on the cushion and his arse in the air. Once he was in place, Louise told me to join him.