Straight to Bi Part 2
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My mother was a late and unexpected baby, born when her brother, Roger, was already sixteen-years-old. As a result, Roger always felt like her uncle to mom. Their age variance was the only thing that made them different. Roger, unlike my mother, was successful at everything he did. In contrast, my mum was a walking shit magnet that seemed to go from one disaster to another.
My unexpected birth when she was seventeen was the first of her ongoing fuck-ups in life. My biological father never married her, and although I knew him, he was never a contributor to my upbringing. The only redeeming aspect to my dad was that he was good-looking.
Roger, in contrast, went from strength to strength in life. He started working at a laboratory as a young man. When the state decided to close the laboratory due to fund cuts, Roger bought over the laboratory for a paltry sum. Over the next ten years, he lived frugally and built up the inadequate laboratory into a state-of-the-art research laboratory that attracted customers from far and wide.
When Roger turned fifty, a Dutch consortium bought the business for a princely sum, affording Roger the opportunity of retiring comfortably.
Roger was not content to do nothing and decided to buy a boutique hotel in the country, which he then transformed into another highly successful business.
I did not see much of Uncle Roger as I was growing up, but being my godfather, he played a decisive part in my life. To be more exact, a financially motivated role given my mother’s flippant attitude to parenting and career choices. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Roger, we would not have had food on the table or a roof over our heads. He was never too generous, mindful of my mother’s squandering proclivities but at least I was also suitably clothed and able to attend the schools that Uncle Roger paid.
Most of my communication with Uncle Roger was via telephone, and I always made a point of thanking him, wishing him on special holidays and birthdays. Uncle Roger was a confirmed bachelor, and this did not elude my mother, who consistently reminded me that as Roger’s godson, I should be conscious of what the implication of that could mean.
During my final school year, I wasn’t sure of what I wanted to do with my future. I was an average student and so, wasting money on college seemed unnecessary. Needing work, Uncle Roger decided that I should move in with him, and attempt a career in the hotel business. I didn’t share my mother’s avaricious inclinations; I was keen to know my eternal benefactor better.
I had also begun to wonder about Uncle Roger’s sexual preferences. He was a robust and large man, whom nobody would ever think of as being gay in the preconceived world of male stereotypical sexual assessment. The curiosity I felt; was not based on any sexual interest that I felt for Roger because he was my uncle. But given my burgeoning gay awareness, I hoped that if Uncle Roger was indeed gay, he might be able to usher me into an established gay existence.
Uncle Roger collected me from the bus stop in the small town close to his hotel. I had not seen him in four years, and although I had always remembered him as big, I was stunned by his heftiness. Uncle Roger was over six-foot-tall and carried most of his weight on his overlarge stomach. His stocky proportions got dwarfed by his enormous belly. Uncle Roger wasn’t flabby, and as I would learn, despite his size, his meaty moobs and gut were incredibly firm.
Uncle Roger was a hairy daddy, and although not good-looking, like all large bearded men with chubby faces, I suppose we get conditioned to see them as cheerful fellows.
The conversation during our drive home was light-hearted and superficial. What I did discern, however, was how articulate he was, something I had never noticed during our brief former encounters and telephone conversations. He had a lovely deep resonance to his voice and spoke with a transatlantic accent. He was a stickler for proper grammar, as I would come to learn.
The hotel was of Edwardian architecture, as were all the furnishings, as I got told. The triple storey hotel was exquisite. As we passed by the hotel, another much smaller and far less grand building consisted of staff quarters. Finally, a further half mile later, we arrived at Roger’s home.
His home was beautiful and contained all his best, original Edwardian furniture.
“Well, Toddy, this is your new home,” Uncle Roger announced as we entered. I was shown to my bedroom before the grand tour of his home took place.
Once we got seated in his lounge, Uncle Roger got down to business.
“Before I get started on your duties and etcetera, there is one thing I need to establish. Think very carefully before you answer because the one thing I cannot abide; is mendacity,” Uncle Roger informed me with a stern expression before taking a sip of his wine. With a probing look on his face, he then asked, “In a private chat with your mom, she told me that she suspects that you might be gay?”
I almost had a heart attack at this revelation. Calming myself down and feeling that this might be a blessing in disguise, I quietly answered, “Yes, yes I am.”
“Well… That’s fantastic news,” Uncle Roger gushed, before continuing, “My general manager, my two chefs, and my produce manager are going to be very pleased about that.”
I went from a state of relief to one of bewildered in an instant.
Picking up on my befuddled expression, Uncle Roger again set forth. “Toddy, I only met your biological father twice, and although I didn’t like him, in fairness, however, he was unbelievably good-looking, something you have inherited.”
“I don’t understand what you are saying,” I quickly countered.
“Well, you are going to be a wonderful perk for my boys,” Uncle Roger matter-of-factly answered.
In disbelief, I replied, “Do you mean that you’re going to pimp me out to your staff?”
“Pimp is such an ugly word. It’s so ‘tinny.’ I prefer ‘woody’ words like… Gratuity.”
After a very brief pause, Uncle Roger persevered, “Toddy, relax. You’re going to have a lot of fun and start your appropriate gay life off with a bang.”
As he looked at my disbelieving face, Uncle Roger now launched into his main speech. Firmly, he informed me that I was indebted to him for his ‘largesse’ over the years. In his opinion, it was time for me to say thank you. I also got told that I was here to learn and wasn’t going to get any special treatment.
“This afternoon and tomorrow, I’ll let you settle in. The day after, however, I’ll be handing you over to my general manager, Stewie. He’ll decide what to do with you."
As I sat with a stunned look on my face, Uncle Roger served the final blow. “Toddy, why don’t you go up to your room and give this some serious thought. You can then decide whether you want to unpack your stuff or not. If this is all too much for you, then don’t unpack, and I’ll happily take you back to the bus station tomorrow morning should you chose to leave.”
Dazed, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. A half-hour later, I arose and gingerly unpacked my stuff.
By the time I arrived downstairs, Uncle Roger was setting the dining table. Food always got supplied from the hotel kitchen, and our evening meals were spectacular.
Uncle Roger didn’t even ask me about my decision, and I could tell that he knew what my answer would be.
“Toddy, as you’ll see, we are very informal at the hotel. From now on, please refer to me as Roger,” I got informed.
As we ate, he informed me that we would be going to town the following day to get me kitted out for my job.
After placing all the dishes in the kitchen after dinner, I decided to resolve Roger’s earlier challenge.
“Roger, I’m happy to stay and will go above and beyond for you from now on,” I quietly informed him.
“Mmm… Well, we’ll soon see about that,” Roger answered with a chuckle.
After we once more sat in the lounge and sipped our wine, Roger said, “I’ve got a big favour to ask you.”
“Anything,” I sincerely answered.
“The thing is, that with this large gut of mine, it’s difficult for me to give my entire body a good scrubbing… Will you help me out with that?” Roger inquired.
“Sure, no problem,” I replied.
Although he was my uncle, I felt a tinge of excitement at seeing Roger naked. As yet, he had not confirmed anything about his sexuality, but I felt sure that given our familial ties, nothing would transpire between us.
Once upstairs, as we stood naked before one another, I had a good look at Roger. I had to berate myself mentally for finding him sexy because, after all, he was my uncle. Roger was hairier than I had imagined and had a forest of fur around his genital area. In this mane of hair, he had a thick stubby uncut dick and a pair of enormous balls.
After wetting himself, Roger leaned against the wall before I began soaping and scrubbing his back with the loofa. Once I got done, Roger turned his body and leaned his back against the wall. As my scrubbing progressed downward, I was slightly hesitant when I got to his crotch.
“Do you want me to do your crotch as well?” I gingerly asked.
“Yeah, why not?” he replied.
As I went about my business, I realized that Roger was a grower and not a shower. The stubby dick was much longer than I had anticipated.
“Oops, sorry about that,” he chuckled as his cock became erect.
“No problem,” I stated as I quickly moved on to his legs.
By the time I got done, his dick had normalized once more.
Afterward, Roger began to rinse his body before I commenced soaping myself. As I did so, he towelled himself off before wrapping the towel around his hips. With a lot less body to take care of, I got done very quickly before I also began rinsing my body.
As Roger was about to exit the bathroom, he said, “After you have dried off, please join me in the bedroom. I have a final favour to ask of you.”
As I entered the bedroom, Roger handed me a tub of cream. “This is an expensive ointment I bought that is great for one’s skin. Would you rub it on my body for me?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied.
I again mentally chastised myself for feeling turned on by what was happening.
Shortly, Roger lay on his stomach as I began massaging the cream into his body. Once I had completed the back of him, Roger turned onto his back.
His cock was fully erect and remained so throughout the entire massage that followed. Unlike in the shower, no ‘Oops’ apology was forthcoming.
After I had done Roger’s neck, arms, and torso, I skipped over his crotch and began on his legs.
Once his legs got done, I gave each of his feet a good rubbing.
I was pleased that I had kept my towel around my waist because I had a raging boner and was as horny as hell by now.
Roger now opened his legs as wide as possible and said, “Move closer.”
After moving up on my knees, I placed my hands alongside each of his extended thighs. As I did so, I looked into his face, puzzled as to what his further command might be. In that instant, as Roger’s eyes commenced radiating with lust, I knew that a taboo was about to take place.
Roger now lifted his torso and firmly took hold of the back of my head with his right hand. In a flash, my head cot pulled down into his crotch as his legs clamp me in a headlock. With my head parenthesized between his meaty thighs, he grunted, “Suck my fuckin’ dick.”
Momentarily, Roger now loosened his headlock so that I could get his cock in my mouth before the clamp once more tightened. Without hesitation, Roger’s hips rumbled into action along with his actively encouraging right hand, as my mouth got speared.
In this melee, I soon realized I was running out of air and began tapping out on his thighs. Relief did not come too soon, and only when he could sense my anguish did the thigh clamp loosen so that I could breathe. His right hand, however, made sure that my head got kept in place.
Our asphyxiation game continued for the next ten minutes before I tasted his spunk getting blasted into my mouth.
“Are you okay?” he asked as I got to my feet.
“Yeah, that was awesome,” I replied.
“I’m glad to hear that, Toddy, because that was the best blowjob I can ever remember, and we’ll be doing a lot of that in the future,” Roger answered with a huge smile.
Assuming that our session was over, and after the bus journey and excitement of the day, I said, “Well, I suppose I’d better get out of your hair.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Toddy. This bed is where you’ll be sleeping in the future,” Roger answered as he tapped the bed next to him.
“Oh, I thought I’d be in your staff quarters at night,” I replied.
“No, no, no, Toddy. The nights belong to me. They only get you during the day,” Roger decisively replied.
As I got on the bed next to him, I asked, “Doesn’t the incest thing bother you?”
“Nah, after all, you’re not a girl, and so there is no chance of an unwanted pregnancy,” he answered, before adding, “But the staff must not find out about us. One never knows what the future holds, and so as far as my staff are concerned, you are my nephew, and that’s where it ends.”
“Understood,” I reliably confirmed.
When Roger finally turned out the light, I thought the day had ultimately ended. I was mistaken.
Roger now got on top of me and said, “Okay, Toddy, let’s see if we can deprive you of some more air.”
For the following hour, I was either on my back or my stomach. The one constant, nevertheless, was that his hands were consistently around my throat. As he told me later, the asphyxiation blowjob had unlocked a key in him and had now become a compulsion for his stimulation. The more I gasped and whimpered, the more lustful he became. I did not mention the obvious about his body size, which further exacerbated the situation.
Although I was not comfortable at first, I must admit that in time I too became comprehensively addicted to this practice, and the odd blackout was well-worth it.
The following day Roger took me to town to kit me out for my job.
I must interrupt my story at this point to tell you about the ‘special’ services that Roger’s successful business offered. Please do not think that Roger was running a glorified brothel, but being the sensible businessman he was, he catered for his loyal customer’s distinctive needs. Most of the staff he hired, both male and female, were attractive and single. Roger always paid above-average wages, but these employees augmented their incomes with ‘gratuities.’
The majority of his clientele were older widows or widowers, or divorced people. Stewie, the general manager, was proficient in these matters and orchestrated the machinations flawlessly. The only proviso was; that these assignations couldn’t take place in company time. All proclivities other than extreme stuff got taken care of at the hotel. Gay, Lesbian, and bisexual penchants were on offer as long as they were paid for in cash to the ‘service’ provider. Roger did not require any kickbacks, and his high occupancy rate was all he desired. All in all, it was a winning formula, and staff turnover was negligible.
When I got taken to the hotel by Roger the next morning, Stewie informed Roger that he would start me off in the kitchen. After leaving me in Stewie’s capable hands, Roger headed back for his home, where he performed most of his administrative and financial duties. Roger had no interest, getting involved in the day-to-day running of the hotel because that’s why he paid Stewie.
After Roger departed, Stewie locked the door. From the salacious expression on Stewie’s face, I was in no doubt as to what was about to occur next.
“Take off your top and get to your knees,” Stewie determinedly now stated.
As I now got to learn, Stewie was a face-fucker of note who liked nothing more than sticking his cock in another man’s mouth. Stewie’s dick was average, but somehow, he thought it was bigger than it was. Irritatingly, Stewie kept insisting on spitting into my mouth every so often, before skull-fucking me again. The fallout of this was that I ended up with drool all over his chest.
The ultimate result of what would become a too regular occurrence was that despite Stewie’s good looks, he would always be my least favourite ‘gratuity.’
After our session, Stewie took me to the kitchen and introduced me to the head chef, Denny, and his sous-chef Cornelius. They were not the two most alluring guys I had ever met, but strangely, both instantly appealed to me. I got immediately got overcome by the feeling that I would love to get fucked by the two of them.
“I’ll leave him in your capable hands,” Stewie exclaimed before sauntering off in a cloud of his self-importance. The four eyes that now focussed on me were brimming with lust.
Denny then looked at and said, “Buddy, I think I should show Toddy our impressive pantry."
With a smile, Cornelius replied, “That’s a great idea, chef.”
Denny was stocky. He wasn’t quite as big as Roger, but not far behind.
As we entered the pantry, he locked the door.
“Get over there and spread them,” he announced with authority, pointing to a table in the middle of the shelves.
“Yes, Sir,” I compliantly answered.
“We haven’t got much time,” he announced, as my chef’s pants and underpants got pulled down to my knees.
Next, flipping the lid off a strategically placed container on the desk, he spoke, “This will help you accommodate my fat knob,” he concluded as he scooped a finger full of pig fat from the tub.
Denny’s greased index finger now went to work before his thumb took over. As I gasped, Denny’s hand gave me a rigorous working over with his digits. As he pushed the front on his trousers down lodging the head of his dick at my portal, I did not get a chance to see his cock, but before I knew what was happening, Denny obliterated my threshold. As I yelped, I knew that a far larger object than I had experienced the previous night was traumatizing my sphincter.
As I found out and would come to know with Denny, the word, gentle, was not in his carnal vocabulary. As my arse ached, he reminded me that we had to hurry up so that he could get back to work. I was in a state of joyous relief as Denny’s orgasmic convulsions began.
Once Denny was done, he instantly pulled his trousers up, again depriving me of a look at his dick.
“Stay right here,” he informed me as he walked to the door, “Because Cornelius will be joining you next.”
A minute later, Cornelius entered, and after locking the door, instantly pushed the front of his trousers down as he approached me. Cornelius had a long, beautiful cock. As I was about to turn and bend over the table, he said, “No, don’t do that. I want you to suck me off first.”
Compliantly, I fell to my knees. Wasting no time, Cornelius was soon skull-fucking me as his dick probed ever deeper into my throat.
“Is your arse sore?” he asked as he speared my mouth.
“Mmm,” I mumbled with a mouth full of dick.
“Poor Denny. He can only do anal because his fuckin’ cock is too thick for a blowjob,” Cornelius chuckled.
For the following couple of minutes, he contentedly face-fucked me before telling me to get up and bend over the table. As he got to his knees behind me, he pulled my cheeks apart.
“Shit, buddy, your lips are swollen and puffy,” he giggled.
I then heard him sniffing my arse. “What lube did Denny use?” he then asked.
“Pig fat,” I replied, pointing to the open tub on the table.
Cornelius now reached for a cloth that was on the table and commenced wiping my arsehole.
“Have you still got his cum inside you?” Cornelius inquired.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Great! There is nothing like a good béchamel sauce to start your day, and the one thing I know about Denny, is that his cum is delicious,” Cornelius gushed as his lips locked onto my puffy arse-lips.
As his tongue stabbed into my backside, I began to leak the culinary treasure into his mouth.
Once sated by the felching, Cornelius stood and began sliding his dick into my arse. After Denny’s earlier annihilation, Cornelius’s cock felt heavenly.
Cornelius was also cognisant of time constraints and soon began approaching the finish line.
“Do you want my load in your arse or your mouth?” he panted.
Envious of Cornelius’s béchamel tasting, I took the mouth option.
As I again got to my knees, Cornelius said, “My spunk is a lot yellower, and so I can only offer you a béarnaise sauce."
As he tugged on his dick, I couldn’t give a shit about which sauce was on offer as I waited with an open mouth.
Once our session ended and I had swallowed my culinary treat, Cornelius lifted me and gave a loving kiss.
“Now, let’s get to work,” he said, bringing me back to earth.
Apart from my function as a ‘gratuity,’ I would learn a great deal from Denny and Cornelius in the kitchen. Of course, I also got to visit the pantry regularly. When I finally got a look at Denny’s cock, it was a jaw-dropping revelation.
Roger decided that I should spend Thursday afternoons with Sandro (Alexandro) in pursuit of giving me a holistic education. He was the produce manager and took care of the hothouses and vegetable gardens, which supplied their kitchen.
Sandro was the sexiest man of them all. He was darker-skinned and incredibly handsome. Sandro was short and stocky and oozed an animalistic sex appeal. He had almost no hair on top of his head but had two dramatic lamb chop sideburns that fused into a mega moustache. Sandro had mitt-like hands with the fattest fingers I had ever seen. He was one hundred percent, a dream Papi. Everything about him rang every bell in my body, from his leathery skin, silky fat uncut knob, to his potent male essence.
Rough and tough as he was, there was nothing vicious about his machinations. He was forcefully potent in the most sensually controlling manner. His constrictive predilections as he powerfully repressed your body only made him more desirable. Santo was strictly a missionary man and cocooned you beneath him, as his hot chilli and garlic breath that added to his spiciness, anointed your head, neck, and shoulders.
From the second Roger introduced us, I was smitten. Santo’s eyes also radiated his approval, and Roger had no sooner departed before Santo made his intentions clear. Although he called me Bonito in Roger’s presence, the last vowel got changed to an ‘a’ once we were alone.
With his stocky frame herding me, his massive hands quickly guided me to his ‘special’ place that he had prepared in anticipation of my arrival. In the small office where he kept his schedules and notes, Santo had an old divan that would become our fuck mattress from then on.
As my clothes vanished from my body, he said, “Come, Bonita, Papi is very horny today.”
Once I had was placed on the divan, Santo’s clothes also disappeared. Like an excited hairy spider, Santo now shrouded my body as his spicy mouth took control of my head and shoulders. Santo’s passion was breathtaking as his pungent frame ensconced me in bliss.
When Santo finally lifted his torso upward, he started toying with his dick as I looked on. Santo was one of those men who had an ample, thick foreskin puckering off the front of his cock-head. As he tugged on his knob, I could see cock slime bubbling through the rumpled skin. Santo produced a shitload of pre-cum, and shortly his dick resembled a candle as the ‘wax’ began oozing down his cock shaft.
As I watched entranced, he said, “I never need to use lube.”
As the wet glans of his knob got placed at my butt-hole, my legs were over his shoulders. Santo’s unctuous cock then began to prise my portal open. His entry was firm but controlled, and shortly hot and hairy frame once more enclosed my body in a heavenly encasement.
As he got into stride, an animalistic grunting from him further boosted my enchantment. Nirvana got attained in my new life as he solidly fucked me.
Next, his rough mitts commenced manipulating my body before I eventually ended up on my stomach. Santo now really got into full stride as his broad hips slammed into me, spearing my arse with gusto. As my cock rubbed against the rough fabric of the divan, Santo’s rough hands now locked onto my shoulders, securing my body for his final frenzied onslaught. I gasped loudly when my sphincter and balls joined in unison, celebrating the ultimate release of ecstasy I had ever felt.
After the most exceptional fuck of my life, Santo finally gave me the tour, which was the purpose of my visit. As we walked around, all I could think of was how I could spend more time with Santo.
That evening, having been given a comprehensive lay of the land as far as my job was concerned, Roger asked me if I had enjoyed myself thus far. I, of course, replied that I was having the time of my life.
“Good. I’m happy to hear that,” Roger replied, before continuing, “Oh, by the way, Santo spoke to me earlier and said that he believes you should spend an extra afternoon with him in the future. We both agreed that Monday would be suitable because it’s the quietest time at the hotel. Would you be amenable to that?”
“Definitely,” I answered, practically pissing in my pants.
“Okay, then it’s a done deal,” Roger wryly answered with a knowing smile.
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