I've always considered myself to be straight. However, my divorce seven years ago presented me with two soul searching problems: first, I could no longer bring myself to trust women and consequently hadn't dated since my wife and I separated. Secondly, the attraction I have felt for men, which dated back to high school, had become more pronounced with each passing year. I know that I could not be "gay enough" to ever consider intercourse; but a close intimate friendship that maybe included some making out, petting, groping and possibly some mutual masterbation would be very difficult for me to turn down. Not to mention that the thought of a spanking made my heart race. I had never considered acting on any of these feelings until the day I met Greg at the gym.
I started working out at the gym again in order to get back into shape. I had 35 pounds to lose. I unconsciously used food over the last seven years to cope with the loss of my marriage. I had lost 20 pounds, I had 15 to go. I was ten minutes into my workout routine which started with that _d_a_m_n_ versa-climber, when I noticed Greg stretching out on the mat. I watched him from the corner of my eye, doing my best not to stare. Wow, was he a traffic stopping head turning piece of work. He looked to be about 6' 1" and was dressed in a dark green oversized pocketed T-shirt and gray cotton shorts that went almost all the way to his knees concealing his thighs. He had bunched up white socks which were down around his ankles. He wore his dark blonde hair parted on the side which somehow accented his striking blue eyes. The characteristics of his face included eyes that were a little close together, strong square jaw and a nose that barely hooked to the right. He wasn't overly muscle bound, but he definitely had a chiseled look about him. His shirt sleeves hung to his elbows hiding his upper arms, but his forearms had that envious vein traveling up them. Legs were lightly tanned with just the right amount of hair. He really was something.
When he had finished stretching, he headed for the aerobics room and I thankfully finished my 20 minhutes on the versa-climber and snagged a treadmill. The gym was busy, I was lucky to get on a treadmill. Greg was out of sight, so I put him out of my mind and concentrated on finishing my workout. Why was I so drawn to hard looking men? Even if I wanted to entertain a more than "buddy" relationship with another guy, at 205 pounds I had a little ways to go before I could feel good enough about my physical appearance to pursue something like that. I should be working on re-cultivating an attraction to women instead of continuing to feed my fantasies about men.
I was on the cycle cooling down and dreaming of an ice cold bottle of water when Greg sat down on the cycle beside me. "How's it going?" he asked.
"It'll be going a lot better in 12 more minutes when I'm finished" I replied. He laughed.
"I couldn't help but notice you checking me out while I was stretching" he said. I immediately flushed which was a dead give away that I had indeed been checking him out.
"I'm sorry" I said. "I'm really embarrassed. It's just that you've got your body toned to the point that I'm sure I'll never be able to reach and I guess I was a little overcome with admiration and jealousy." Now Greg was blushing.
"Don't worry about it" he said. "I thought it was kind a cool. By the way, my name is Greg."
"Hi, I'm jake" I said. At this point, I began to get a strange feeling. Why would he tell me he thought it was cool that I was checking him out? And why would he choose the cycle right next to me when there were plenty of empty ones around us since everyone seemed to be competing for more popular machines? Was Greg trying to tell me something? I decided I was reading way too much into this. He was probably just being friendly.
Greg looked over at the magazine I had open across the cycle's digital progress display. I was working on a sun deck off my master bedroom and I had found an article about deck construction. "What's this?" he asked. "Are you involved in some kind of building project?"
"Just a simple deck" I replied.
Greg leaned towards me, lowered his voice, raised his eyebrows about an eighth of an inch and said: "how big is it?"
Oops, CHECK PLEASE! It wasn't my imagination, Greg was interested in me. There was no doubt in my mind that we weren't discussing the size of my carpentry work, but rather, the size of my _d_i_c_k_. My face turned red as my right foot slipped off the peddle. I quickly recovered and looked up to see Greg smirking a little at my reaction while he waited for my answer. I guess I should't have been so surprised. Sure I had some more weight to lose, but I wasn't unattractive by any means. I stood 6' tall, 34 years old, dark blonde hair and blue eyes just like Greg. Of course I didn't have his build, but I was working on it.
"It's just average size" I said, "nothing to write home about."
He didn't seem the least bit disappointed. He said "I'd love to see it....the deck that is."
"Hey, anytime. What are you doing tonight?" I asked.
"I guess I'm going to your house" he said. I gave him some easy to follow directions and told him I'd see him in awhile. I flew home, made sure the house was presentable and took a quick shower. Greg pulled up about 45 minutes later, still in his workout clothes. His shirt had an impressive sweat ring around the neck and the fringes of his hair were spiked together; still wet with perspiration.
I took him on a quick tour of the house and showed him the beginnings of my deck. We settled on the back patio with a couple of wine coolers, lounging in cushioned patio chairs, talking as we watched the sun go down. We seemed to click right away and bonding came naturally.
I asked Greg how old he was. He replied "well, actually, I turn 36 tomorrow. I'm a little down about it."
"Why's that?" I asked. "You don't like the thought of growing older?"
"It's not that at all" he said. "I have this buddy that I've had a special kind of pact with for the last four years. It's a tradition that when it's our birthday, we don't receive a birthday spanking, we give one. My buddy moved to Colorado last month, I was really looking forward to my turn." Greg then made eye contact with me and said: "I don't want to scare you off or anything Jake, but you wouldn't happen to be into spanking at all, would you?"
My heart literally skipped a beat. I wasn't really sure what to say. I mean, Greg was really good looking and although he didn't act it, he was obviously gay from the advances he had made. My insides were already a little queezy as I had been pondering the temptation to allow Greg to make a pass at me when the time came. The thought of getting a spanking from this guy had never entered my mind. Still, this was something I had fantasized about and I did trust him. But was this something I really wanted to get into? Once I started, would I be able to stop?
After several moments of silence, I told him that I hadn't been spanked since I was a kid and that I wasn't sure about this. Greg said "look Jake, you would just be over my lap for a short time. I know you can take it; you don't even have to drop your pants and underwear if you don't want to. And if you don't want to at all, I understand, no pressure."
I thought for a moment and then decided "why the hell not?" I liked Greg, I was certainly turned on by him and this could turn out to be something really hot. "OK Greg, I'll do it. Come back over tomorrow night around six and I'll have a nice birthday dinner prepared for you. Since it's your birthday, when you get ready to spank me, there'll be no conditions or restrictions, knock yourself out and have a good time with it. It'll be my present to you. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it all the way."
Gred smiled broadly and said "wow, are you sure? Do you want a safety word incase it gets too much for you?"
"No safety word" I said. "I trust you. If it gets too intense, I'm sure I'll recover and survive." I looked at my watch and suddenly realized that it was getting late and that tomorrow was a work day. Greg agreed. He tugged on the front of his shirt a little to indicate that he wanted to get home and take a shower. He shook my hand goodnight and I watched him walk over to his car. Dang, even his hands were strong and impressive looking.
It was very difficult to concentrate at work the next day. I kept wondering about how my spanking was going to unfold. It was a safe bet that Greg intended to spank me bare assed. The thought of a bare assed spanking combined with surrendering control to another guy sent chill bumps up and down my arms and through my shoudlers. I was somewhat apprehensive and scared. What if I couldn't take it?
I only had about an hour to prepare Greg's birthday dinner after work. I wanted everything to be perfect so as not to give Greg a reason to dole out extra punishment while I was over his knees. I fixed hamburger stroganoff over white rice, steamed broccoli and a sort of Italian dinner salad with lots of olives, onions, peppers and mushrooms. For desert, I picked up a cherry pie and some vanilla ice cream. I was going to let him spank me, but no way was I going to let him hear me sing happy birthday by myself.
I had managed to pick up an electronic date book on my lunch hour and had it wrapped in blue paper and sitting on the table along with some candles. Greg walked through the front door wearing pressed and tight blue jeans, a white pull over polo shirt which contrasted nicely with his tanned arms and neck, white tennis shoes and white sweat socks. He was clearly dazzled with my efforts. He looked at the present on the table, pointed to it and asked with a big smile "is that for me?" I nodded yes and then he asked "I hope that isn't a substitute for the present you've promised me for later tonight?"
"No Greg," I said. "I'm a man of my word. Tonight, you get to give me the spanking of a lifetime."
I poured us both a glass of Merlot and we sat down to eat. Dinner was really good if I do say so myself. Greg had two helpings of practically everything. After we finished eating, I poured us another glass of wine and we sat out on the back patio again. We laughed a lot, probably due to the wine, and talked about nearly everything. We found we had lots in common and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It was one of those nights that had a slightly magical feeling to it.
About 8:30, Greg set down his glass, looked me in the eye and said "well, are you ready?"
"It's your birthday and you decide when I'm ready" I replied.
"OK then" he said, "let's get started. I'd like to use your den, if that's OK."
"Sure Greg, we can use whatever room you want."
Greg followed me into the darkened den, turned on the dimmer switch and lowered the lights. He then shut the door behind us. He looked at me with a serious look in his eyes and said "this is your last chance to change your mind Jake. If you want to back out, it's OK with me, really."
"No Greg, it's OK, I'm not backing out" I said. "I have to be honest though, this is all completely new to me and I don't know what to do."
"Don't be concerned about that" he said. "All you have to do is follow my lead." With that said, he walked over to my desk which was against the wall and pulled my straight backed chair into the middle of the room. He turned to face me and slowly pulled his white polo shirt off over his head and grinned at me. He then sat down and ran his open palms forward and backward across the top of his lap. He pushed off his left shoe using the toe of his right. Then he used his left foot to push off his right shoe. He leaned down and pulled his left sock off and dropped it on the floor next to his shoes. When he removed his right sock, he didn't drop it on the floor, but rather layed it across his right leg. He was now sitting in the chair, barefoot and shirtless. His chest was smooth and tan, his stomach rippled with muscles. He must have been some kind of sit up junky. He executed each of these tasks with an air of seriousness. None of his actions were hurried, he was obviously taking his time and enjoying the fear, dread and anticipation he was filling me with.
He looked over at me and told me to remove my shoes and socks and place them neatly on the floor under the light switch. He then instructed me to take off my shirt, fold it and place it on top of my shoes. As I unbuttoned my shirt, I thought to myself "what have I gotten into? It's too late to stop this." But way down deep inside, I didn't want to stop it.
I was now clad in the same manner that he was. He said "come over here to me now." I hesitantly walked over. He reached up and began to unbuckle my pants. To my relief, he didn't pull the belt out of my jeans. The thought of a hand spanking was much more thrilling to me.
I was embarrassed to realize that my _d_i_c_k_ had become so hard through all of this that I thought it was going to split open at the head. I just knew that I would have a small wet spot in the front of my underwear. I looked up at the ceiling as he unsnapped my jeans and slowly lowered my zipper. He then guided my jeans down to my ankles and with a quiet voice while still looking down, he told me to step out of them.
His eyes then fixed on my crotch. My raging hard on was very apparent under my briefs. A sheepish grin broke across his face and he said "I see I'm not the only one getting off on this." He ran the back of his three middle fingers up and down my shaft three or four times with a _s_e_x_ually excited look in his eyes. Next, he took hold of my waist band and removed my last remaining shred of dignity. I was now standing before him completely naked. I had never been naked like this in front of another guy before in my life. Of course I had been naked in front of other men in a locker room situation; but never on display like this. There wasn't just a few butterflies in my stomach, there was a freakin flock of them flappin around my abdomen.
Greg picked up the sock that was still laying across his leg and began to roll it up. He told me to kneel down. He then said "I can't have your yelling, begging and pleading attracting attention in the neighborhood. I'm going to have to put this in your mouth to muffle your cries." He gently worked his finger into my mouth and pulled down on my jaw. He stuffed that white sweat sock into my mouth. I thought I was going to be sick. It looked clean enough, but it had just been on his foot for who knows how long. He lifted me to my feet by pushing up on my elbow.
He looked up into my eyes one last time with a very serious look. He raised his left hand in front of his mouth and spat into it. He then spat into his right hand and began rubbing both hands together. My disgusted reaction delighted him.
He took hold of my left arm, I could feel his spit on my skin, and he pulled me over his lap. "Here we go" I thought, "I can't believe this is actually happening." He adjusted his legs and I found my face about six to eight inches away from his bare feet. They were the only thing I had to look at. I could see the ridges across the top of his feet where his bones journeyed down to his toes. His second toe was a little longer than his big toe. For a moment, a somewhat revolting image of me sucking on those toes passed through my mind. I was brought back to reality when I felt his left arm slide under my stomach to hold me in place; I knew it wouldn't be long now.
His toes moved slightly as he brought his open, wet hand forcefully down upon my waiting ass. I wasn't prepared for the searing pain that exploded in my backside and seemed to shoot out my eyeballs. I remained composed, I didn't want to cry or prove him right about my needing to be gagged. A short moment passed before his hand smashed a second time into my other cheek. After the tenth swat, I must have started to wiggle a little because he tightened his grip around my waist and pulled me closer against him. His bare stomach felt warm, almost feverish and for the first time, I felt his rock hard _c_o_c_k_ against my side. He felt as though he was very well endowed and I swore I could feel heat radiating through his jeans.
Greg timed his swats with a generous pause between each one. This was new to me because when I had been spanked as a child, my father hit me with a ferocious volley that was administered out of anger. Greg's method was painful to be sure. But there was an erotic quality about it that was driving me insane. I wanted more but didn't think I could stand more. Greg seemed to sense exactly where my breaking point was because he took me right to the edge but never pushed me over. After about five minutes of this long, steady and deliberate spanking, he stopped. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. He lifted me up on my knees and placed me between his legs. He told me we were about half way done. He said "I wanted to give you a break before we continued. Do you think you will be up for the rest of it in a few minutes?" I shakily nodded yes; his sock was still in my mouth.
He pulled my face against his wonderful chest with his left hand and began to caress my aching butt with his right. His chin rested on top of my head. His chest was moist as he had worked up a bit of a sweat spanking me. The smell of spit was still in his hands. I swallowed hard and slowly moved my hand over his leg and rested it in his crotch. He didn't make any effort to stop me. I began to grope him lightly through his jeans and squeezed the shaft of his penis between my thumb and forefinger. He gave a slight moan of pleasure. I couldn't believe that I actually had my hand in another man's crotch.
after another three or four minutes, Greg lifted his chin off my head and tapped me on the back to indicate that it was time to get back to business. He directed me over his left knee and locked down my legs with his right leg. I heard him spitting into his hands again and felt some of the spray on my back. He told me to put my wrists together behind my back. When I had done so, he gripped them with his left hand. He held my wrists tightly because his hand was slippery from the spit. He then said "I'm proud of the way you have kept from crying out up to this point. But now I'm going to increase the intensity and pain. You won't be able to contain yourself so go ahead and let loose. There is no shame in crying and this wouldn't be a proper spanking without tears and some urgent apologies and earnest promises."
He tightened his grip on my legs and wrists and rested his right hand on my strawberry red ass while he adjusted his legs. I felt his hand leave my ass and then CAWAM! I jumped at at the pain but couldn't go anywhere since I was pinned down. His toes gripped the floor as the second nuclear blast found its target. After the third, my eyes began to fill with tears. I really wanted to get free but there was no hope of breaking Greg's grip and I knew it. After the fifth swat, I broke. "Please" I muffled through the sock, "I'll do anything you want if you will stop right now."
Greg paused a moment and replied "I'm sorry Jake, but you know I have to finish before I can stop." I began to yell through the sock and arch my back with each blow that followed. Even though this was fast becomming unbearable, I had never been so turned on in my life. The feeling of his strong hands having complete rule over my body was electrifying and a strange kind of relief at the same time.
In the end, I was exhausted and no longer had the strength to resist. The spanking finally stopped and Greg helped me to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me and lightly massaged his fingers into my back. We were both a little damp which normally would have grossed me out. However, this was a new level of intimacy that I had never before experienced and it felt very natural.
I slowly moved my fingers down to the front of his jeans. He gave me a big smile as he felt the fastener of his jeans unsnapping. I pulled his zipper apart and let his jeans fall down on their own. Greg slowly stepped out of them. I looked into his eyes and said "I hope I won't have to repeat this until next year."
I could feel the wisps of Greg's breath on my face as he quietly replied "I'll decide when you need your next spanking."
He then moved his lips over to mine and I experienced my first kiss from another guy. WHOA, tongue, the hors d'oeuvre I didn't order!