SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

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Part 5…

“And the surprises just keep on coming!” I said to him as he lay there, incapacitated and unable to speak.

“So this is your way of apologizing?” I asked. “Or did Linda coerce you into doing this for me?” I knew he couldn’t answer me properly, so I used the opportunity to speak my mind. I did not approach him, but slowly walked around the bed as I spoke my monologue. His eyes followed me.

“Oh, Danny. You are an enigma. Now let me tell you a little more about me. Before I think about touching you, that is, if I touch you at all, you see, maybe now I have some surprises for you.” I continued. “I had seen you around the gym before that day in the locker room when I surprised you at the sink. You and many other pretty hot bodies that walk around, pumping iron, and have that swagger of showing off what they earned from all the diligence and hard work invested into their bodies.

“Each is a walking fantasy to me, every one of them. But you, you were a distinct gift. You know now all about my sexual idiosyncrasies, but at that time, I didn’t know anything about your wants and desires, nothing but what I had seen that day. Linda told me that you had me ‘spied’ on afterward. Then only after finding out more about me, a little more, I might add. Was it only then that you decided to pursue a meeting? I thought that my little comments at your truck window after our first session sparked your interest, but I was mistaken. Apparently, you had been leading me on all along without my even knowing it.

“All that stuff earlier today about getting a coffee and that kiss in the truck. That was all staged to get me here, wasn’t it? You played me like the stupid little, oh, I don’t know, do you think of me as a little twink or play-toy? Then she shared with me what you were really after. Well, I’m sorry to have disappointed you, I really am, being small is one hardship that I have learned to live with and accept, but not being small enough is a new low.”

His eyes frowned at me for saying that so bluntly. With that admission, he looked away from me for the first time. I was beginning to open his emotional vault. “Sorry, but it’s true. A part of me feels sorry for you, I mean, the fact that you are so obsessed with that one thing. I want to tell you that there is more to life, hell, more to a relationship than that.”

He wasn’t looking at me at all anymore, his eyes stared down his chest, expressionless. “I use the word ‘relationship’ on purpose. I ask you point-blank, do you think that it is something you could entertain with me?” His eyes raised slowly back to me. “If it is, then I can tell you honestly that I would be all in, because that’s really what’s at the end of my imagined rainbow, someone to trust and be able to say and do anything with. I’m looking for a person I can grow with, because that’s how I want to grow my life. Like the decision I made to find a trainer and improve myself. Onward and Upward! Life is too short…and all that. Well, I found a good trainer, and now I’m hoping that we can grow further. What do you think?”

He couldn’t speak, but his eyes were steady on me again, intense and fearful all at the same time.

“I don’t want you to say anything yet. Keep that ball right where it is. In my court.” Then I started to remove my shirt really slowly, then my pants, and I unbuttoned and slowly opened my fly. I was soft but still very red from the earlier session. He saw that and winced hard. He was surprised to see how much he had wrecked me. I took that for the start of his apology.

I reached down and stroked his cheek.

“Yeah, you did that, but I also kinda let you, I mean, I held back from screaming, besides, I think it’ll heal up in a few days.” I chuckled. “You asked if I was into some SPH, and I told you I was, and still am. Riding that fine line of pleasure and pain is a rush I know you like to explore, maybe with a little too much passion. That’s something we might work on together if you like.”

His precisely defined muscles, blond hair, and blue eyes completed the awkward dream before me. With my other hand, I pulled away the cut-up polo that was still lying across him. As it slid away, his little bump popped straight back up with a defenseless salute. A full soft inch at best, with paper-thin skin wrinkled and hanging off the top, a tight pink ball sack holding olive-sized balls, looking so unremarkable that the whole sight is absolutely gorgeous, in my humble opinion.

I reached down and pinched the very tip of skin, pulling it out, ever so gently. It was longer than I expected, and it felt like fine velvet in my fingers. I noticed light blue veins along it, noticing how white and fair he is down there. I wondered what he would look like with a full, dirty-blond bush; the entire soft package would probably be completely hidden. Then I bent downward and placed the small package into my lips. It felt good to taste him finally. He squirmed a little, and I moved myself to kneel between his legs, as he had done to me. With two fingers holding all the skin back, I exposed a small pink head, surprisingly not as wide as his thinner-than-expected shaft; it truly was the smallest and cutest little head I had ever seen.

I licked it gently, then took it in my lips and began to massage it with my tongue. He moaned and started to get firm. His boyish manhood grew ever so slightly, slowly reaching about two inches. The thin shaft was delicate when exposed, with my two fingers being more than enough to stroke it on all sides. It reminded me of a small thin breakfast sausage. As I continued to service him, I released some of the skin and let it ride the shaft. He moaned. Then I took a small bit of it in my teeth and nibbled, waiting for a reaction…

“Aggghhhh…” He started to moan louder, but it didn’t seem painful enough for him to want me to stop.

I nibbled lovingly on the soft paper held in my teeth, then pulled it back with my thumb and forefinger and sucked again on the small, now more firm, head with my lips. He was getting harder and extended to about 2.5 inches; it started to curve back toward his stomach as well. With the skin pulled back tight, it was so very slim, the shaft getting more pink, the little knob getting slightly bigger and reddening.

I continued to tease him the whole while about how small he is – It’s smaller than a breakfast sausage. Would love to have the crew at the gym see his nakedness, secret, and just how small you really are. You must look so stupid jerking this small meat. Too bad you can’t fuck anyone.

I decided to look at it. I was enthralled with the sight of it, so I sat away and kept working it in my fingers. Watching the skin slide and seeing the head appear and disappear, watching his balls pull up way inside him, leaving no sign of a scrotum at all, just a flat pink patch with a fine line tracing the center line from his anus to the base of his incredibly delicate shaft. I placed my thumb and forefinger of my other hand on his small head, touching it like a radio knob on a tuning machine. He winced and arched his back, and I then licked my fingers with saliva and continued.

“Sensitive head?” I asked. “I can relate to that.” As I kept fine-tuning the sensation. He moaned and shook his head, and I found myself in a quandary: do I stop as he should have with me, or do I give him what he deserves…I decided to stop, to which his body immediately relaxed.

“Feel better?” I asked. “Can you make this little thing cum at all, or is this all it can do?” I teased him. He gagged on the ball. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”

With this, I held back his foreskin as tight as I could with the fingers of my left hand, and slowly made an OK sign with my right hand, and started to stroke. The shaft was as taught as mine was when he did this to me, the only difference being that he had so much more skin to hold back. I wondered if more skin meant more sensitivity to his exposed little head. I watched as his thin shaft got even bigger, maybe a full three inches at best, curved still, and saw the head get as full as it could, red and throbbing. When the circle of my fingers slid over his head, he jerked and winced.

“Aghh…nnnn…nnnaahhhhh,” he tried to groan out in protest. I slowed down and tightened my grip slightly. I let him writhe for a short time, then stopped, reached for the vaseline, and placed a small bit on my fingers. Now he glistened as I did, and I had to admit it was a beautiful sight. I stroked and, from time to time, released the foreskin to give the head some relief. He acknowledged that. Each time I thought he would cum, I paused and just held his little member alone until it stopped quivering…I edged him like that for a good long time.

“Time for this little thing to shoot, would you like that?” I asked. “More than you offered to me,” I teased him. “Can it shoot all over your chest, or does it dribble like a little boy dick?” I mocked.

Then I stroked him in earnest…slow then faster and tighter…he moaned and soon came in a bolt. He shot farther than I would have imagined, several times, each reaching his shoulders and chest. I was amazed at how much cum he delivered. His body convulsed, and his head snapped up and down to see my hands and back to see the ceiling, then back down to watch me slowly stop. I did stop, but only for a brief moment.

“Here comes the apology that I want,” I said to him, then, while holding his thin, hard shaft in one hand, I placed the palm of my other hand on his red little knob and polished it out.

He bolted from side to side, but I didn’t let go. Something came over me in the heat of the moment, something that I had always fantasized about. The imminent torture of breaking a big bodybuilder down right at his most defenseless moment, with his most vulnerable asset in my hands, all in my power, just after his cuming. I watched him writhe in agony, hearing the grunts that were pleading for me to stop. But soon I looked down at my hands and saw his smallness, his redness, his innocence…his pain. That realization brought me back to reality and caused me to stop. I felt sorry for him and, somewhat strangely, satisfied all at once. Is that what he felt when he was hurting me, that click of satisfaction in causing someone else’s pain and agony? Is that why he suddenly reverted to being emotional and empathetic?

As he calmed down and I reached for the torn polo to wipe away his cum and grease from my hands, I stood and began to release the tied ropes from under the foot of the bed. Then I slipped off the wrist loops and lastly extracted the red ball from his mouth. He breathed heavily and immediately reached down to cover up his private parts. He did not look at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, as I lay next to him, and truly felt a stab of regret for what I had just done to him. I didn’t understand how I went from longing to please him and enjoying the sight and the feel of him in my hands to wanting to punish him so badly. I didn’t expect to feel so much regret.

“Happy now?” He asked me, staring up to the ceiling, still holding his manhood beneath his hands, with eyes full, tears falling down the sides of his face. He looked like a sad little puppy once again, and I felt terrible.

“Danny, this, what we do to each other, I don’t know…Is it normal? I mean, I think we really like one another, but if that’s true, why do we hurt each other so bad? I never thought I could ever treat you like that, ever. I don’t know what came over me.” I didn’t know what more to say.

“Did you mean what you said before?” He asked meekly.

“What did I say?”

“About having a relationship?” He said it hesitantly, checking me and my sincerity.

“Yes, I meant every word.” I caressed his beautiful chest.

“I, … I want to grow with you. I think we are different and the same.” He was speaking as if in a dream. “Linda told me you are special just before she left. She told me we were cut from the same soiled and stained cloth, but we could help each other clean ourselves up, whatever that means. I know I have problems, and it sounds like you might too…?”

He turned toward me, placed an arm over me, and kissed me gently again and again.

“Would you ever consider trying to have a relationship with me?” He asked so innocently.

“Ever since that day at the sink,” I answered.

The End. (Maybe)

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