Gay Erotic Stories

Leather Lovers, Part 7 Iainleather@hotmail.com Mike and I had been together now for about four and a half months. During that time we had discovered so much about each other, likes and dislikes and yet we still had so much more to find out. We’d moved in together and explored our passionate side, shared our secret fantasies and begun living them out, falling more and more in love all the time. We’d added a few items to our collection of ‘toys’ and made sure that we got plenty of use out of each and every one. When Mike had his nipples pierced and I had my right one done to match the left, we had to take things a little carefully for a while, but after they healed we discovered a whole new range of games to play and sensations to enjoy. We had experimented with different things pulling or hanging from our tits, but the one that gave us both the most pleasure was having a set of nipple clamps, connected by a silver chain, joining our tits and hanging free, ready to be pulled at and played with. The clamps sat easily through the nipple rings rather than being fastened onto raw skin, so they could be left there for hours, evoking tingles of enjoyment with each movement. On one particularly memorable occasion, we were both in our favourite leathers, and both had a set of nipple clamps attached to our pierced tits, swinging between them and pulling gently at the sensitive nubs. Mike was wearing a harness of four straps that pushed his well-defined pecs up, the chain joining his tits swinging down and over the glossy leather of the straps. I began nibbling at his right nipple, pulling at the ring with my teeth then licking at the hard dark skin, making him moan with delight. With my teeth almost closed, I slid my mouth away from his nipple and sideways, keeping the chain between my lips, following it across his chest until I reached the opposite side where I started nibbling and pulling at his left nub. The links of the chain felt so erotic as they rubbed against my lips, and the clinking sound as they slipped between my teeth turned me on. Mike gasped and groaned, each time a link in the chain bounced against my teeth another tingle of joy shot into him, pulling at his chest. My hands slid down his back, feeling the firm roundness of his arse cheeks and the smooth hide of the leather chaps as I ministered to his nipples. As I toyed with him, he reached for the chain joining my own nips. Tugging at it, he pulled first to one side and then the other. Sparks of electric pleasure shot through me each time he did. It felt as though the nerves in my nipples were connected directly to my cock, and every time my man jangled that chain my dick twitched and jerked in time with my tits, a long string of pre-cum drooling from my slit and falling downward. As I moaned with pleasure, desperately trying not to let go of the corresponding chain between my teeth, he held on with one hand, the other reaching between my legs and squeezing my balls firmly through the leather cushion of the shining black pouch encasing them. With that I gasped out loud and the chain hanging between his nips escaped from my bite. “Oh, fuck, Neale,” he hissed at me, “that is driving me crazy, my chest feels like it’s on fire, and my cock is so hard it hurts.” With that he pushed me gently backwards, onto the floor. Pulling my legs open and positioning himself between them, he leaned over me and our mouths joined. Tongues explored and tasted as we locked lips. His warm mouth felt so good against my own and my hands went to his back, gripping at the bands of leather forming his harness and pulling him down onto me. His meaty rod was hard as a rock, leaking jizz in a steady stream, and he pressed the head to my arse crack. I felt the heat of his knob against my waiting hole, and relaxed, willing myself to open for him. My legs closed around his back, the leather of my chaps gripping me firmly and rubbing against the skin and hide of his back and harness. With my legs I pulled him to me, gasping with the momentary pain as he entered me then feeling the flood of warm pleasure as his steel hard shaft penetrated my anus. The velvety skin of his love muscle slid deep within me, filling me with the pleasure I had come to love and want so much. He lifted his head away from my mouth as he began his fuck rhythm, thrusting into me and pulling back to thrust again. I matched his movement, clamping then relaxing, milking him as he pushed his meat into my welcoming cavern. The powerful strength of his naked cock filled my rectum, pumping in and out of me, massaging my prostate and drowning me in a sea of rising passion. As our coupling increased in speed and the creaking of the leather joined with the slurping of his invasion, I felt my urges building to a climax. Suddenly, Mike eased back, slowing us both down. I looked into his eyes questioningly, and he grinned back. I had come to know that look and wondered what he had planned. He unhooked the nipple clamp from his left tit, and reached to do the same to mine. Then taking the dangling unattached chain, he fixed it onto the ring through my left nipple. The clamp that had been at my left was lying across my chest, and he slid the teeth through the ring in his left nip. Now we were connected so that the chains and clamps stretched from my right nipple to the left side of his chest, and the silver metal thread joined my left side to his right tit. He resumed his motion, his thick hard cock filling and fucking at me, my body clamping around him, drawing him in and trying to take more. As he thrust and pulled back, he lifted his body higher so the chains connecting us pulled taut. Both of us gasped in unison as the pressure tugging at our chests sent tingling spears of pleasurable pain through us. Mike began humping at me faster, and with each thrust the sensations shooting through my chest increased. The incredible feeling as his fleshy sword buried itself in me was magnified by the dragging pressure on my tits. The aching piercing joy from my chest caused me to clamp and hump at him even more, and the sensation bouncing through his chest made him fuck at me faster and harder, deeper and more intense with each pounding thrust. The combination was so erotic, so powerful, that it was only a few minutes before we were gasping and hissing, stifling cries of ultimate pleasure as we hit the peak of stimulation and crashed over, engulfed in the trembling crash of orgasm. Mike’s weapon emptying it’s load of manjuice deep inside me as my prong shuddered, swelled and shot searing white sprays of jism over both of us. As we recovered, side by side, we left the connecting silver chain in place. It meant we could not separate by any more than a few inches, and each movement sent more tingles of pleasure through us. “I could stay joined to you like this forever!” I said. Mike smiled at me, kissing me softly. “I know what you mean, it’s so hot being connected to you like this, stud” he laughed. Eventually we had to separate, and reluctantly we unclipped the teeth of the clamps from each other’s chest. I promised myself we would have to do some more experimenting with the idea of being so closely and physically connected in the future. It was early Spring. We’d met last Autumn, and had spent the winter knowing and loving each other, and generating our own heat as often as we could. I was flipping through one of the gay newspapers when I noticed an ad for the annual Sleaze Ball on the Labour Day weekend. Struck with an idea, I let the paper fall, and slid sideways, resting my head in Mike’s lap, looking up into those incredible deep blue eyes of his. “Hey hunk,” I said, getting his attention. “You know how much I enjoy going out and showing you off in hot leather in public…” “I don’t know who shows whom off, but yeah?” he interrupted. “…Well, I was wondering how you’d feel about going to Sleaze Ball this year?” That got him interested. He sat up a little, his hand settling on my chest, playing with the ring in my right nipple. After a few seconds of thought, he smiled at me. “I think that’s a great idea.” He said enthusiastically. “And being Sleaze, we can go all out with some REALLY hot gear, much more than just at one of the bars! We can put together a truly fantasy leather night at THAT party!” I grinned at him. Yet again, he and I were thinking along the same lines. “I see a real Master/slave couple, hot as hell and raunchy as we can manage, strutting our stuff for the world. Let them stare, make ‘em jealous!” I laughed, my already throbbing cock beginning to harden from his playing with my tit and the thought of the night out. I felt Mike’s long meat swell and jerk against my head as his azure orbs glistened, smiling evilly down at me. We got tickets just in time. The ‘Ball’ was a sell-out as usual, 10,000 people intending to get down and dirty for almost 12 hours and we couldn’t wait. We started planning our ‘outfits’, and decided that a visit to the leather shop was called for. We’d been there quite a few times now, and were welcomed with a grin by the guy who operated it. We picked up the things we had intended, and a few others inspired new thoughts, so they were added to our list. As usual, Mike was fascinated by the sling set up on display in the back area of the place. I found him deep in quiet discussion with the salesman, and had to drag him away. He looked very thoughtful as we finally left. Finally, the first weekend in October was upon us. For what we planned, there was no way we could get to the place by taxi or even in a private car. Just getting from the front door to a cab would risk getting us arrested, so we knew we’d have to wear reasonable clothes and change in the cloakroom at the party. The ‘cloakroom’ was in fact a large marquee with partitioned changing rooms and storage lockers. Quite a lot of the party-goers needed to do as we did, and change into their outfits once safely inside the venue. Mike and I arrived around 11.30, just as the evening was getting started, and hired a locker, found a cubicle and helped each other transform ourselves into our fantasy gear for the night. With keen eyes, we checked ourselves over critically, satisfied with the result. We threw our street clothes into the locker, and stepped out into the growing crowd milling around the various halls. There were thousands of people, in every imaginable variation of fetish costume. Sleaze Ball was living up to its name. Leather, rubber, chains, latex. Guys in military gear from camouflage outfits to dress uniforms, cops, cowboys and construction workers. Men in tight fitting pants and tighter tops, or nothing but boots and the tiniest g-strings. Women in crotchless pants, or with their breasts open and pushed out of their tops, lots and lots of leather harnesses and chaps and pants. Men and women wearing nothing at all, their bodies painted in swirling garish colours, heads shaved and faces unrecognizable. Singles, groups and couples, both gay and straight. Although ‘Sleaze’ was a primarily gay party, there were a fair number of heteros who came along and got into the spirit as well. Mike and I looked at each other and grinned, as more than a few heads turned toward us, staring openly and admiringly. We weren’t the most outrageous pair there, but we did look damn hot, and we felt fucking great. Mike was fitted out as a full on leather Master. He wore a leather cap with a shining black visor pulled low over his eyes and reflective sunglasses beneath it. Across the visor of the cap was a thin metal chain. He had gone unshaven for several days, so his jaw and cheeks sported a stubble that made him look rough and powerful. His harness was a mixture of metal and leather, with wide black bands of hide over each shoulder and bright silver chains around his ribs connecting front and back to a metal ring. The chains were pulled taut under his chest so that his pecs were framed by steel and tanned leather. Another strap of leather hung down from the rings in front and behind, and a single chain ran around his waist, connecting the two straps of black gleaming leather. Through his nipples he wore a pair of large silver barbells. A pair of wide soft leather straps were buckled around his upper arms, defining and highlighting his biceps, and on each forearm gauntlets of glistening black, with rows of silver studs. On his hands he wore tight driving gloves. His legs were encased in the tightest shiniest black leather chaps, emphasising every movement as they ascended from the heavy square toed boots he wore which were fixed with metal rings at the inner and outer ankles and joined by chains which slung under the arches. As the chaps flared and opened at the top of his powerful thighs, they formed themselves under his firm rounded butt, and framed his groin. His long meaty cock was held and framed in a glossy pouch of leather, a codpiece that was snapped onto the leather jock he wore. The outline of his masculinity a clearly visible tube of blackness, lying comfortably above the spheres of dark hide that were his balls, cushioned within their leather lair. If his pole looked longer than normal, or his testicles larger and lower, I knew the secret. Beneath the jock and codpiece Mike wore a steel cockring, and leather separator which pushed his orbs down and away, making them appear through the leather as larger than ever. He was the epitome of a powerful, dominant leather Master, his movements fluid and confident, oozing sexuality and strength with every breath, and I felt so proud and horny being beside him. And beside him was where I would be all night. I had on polished black boots, and skintight gleaming chaps that gripped and held my legs, wrapped around me and enveloped my calves and thighs. My butt cheeks were bare-naked as they protruded from the frame of black leather formed by the chaps. We had opted for me to wear a pouch of leather, which consisted simply of a leather envelope suspended from a string of leather around my waist with elasticized edges which gripped under my nuts. The binding hardness of a metal cockring was around the base of my shaft and balls, with a set of straps of leather, which actually separated each testicle from the other, and both from my cock. My dick, already semi hard, and my rolling jewels were clearly visible in the clinging black sheath of soft polished leather. The harness I was wearing was made up of three separate sets of leather bands, around my waist, my ribs and my chest. The lower two sets connected front and back to central metal rings, which were joined to each other by vertical leather straps. Another strap ran from the lowest metal ring downward, disappearing under the waistband of the chaps and the leather envelope of the pouch, to snap around the cockring. The upper leather around my chest started at a single ring between my shoulder blades, but connected to two large metal rings, which were set over each nipple. These two rings were then connected by a piece of solid steel. Shoulder straps ran from the rings around my tits up and over to the central ring on my back. Through the piercings in my nipples I wore silver rings, and suspended from them, dangling across the front of my chest was a chain of silver. Over my head I wore a mask of soft leather. It completely covered the top of my head, coming down to the back of my neck, and over my eyes. The leather was cut so that half of my nose protruded from under the mask, and my mouth was uncovered, but my ears were beneath the dark hide, and only the whites of my eyes could be seen through the slits in the leather. Around my neck was a wide leather dog collar, set with metal studs. To a D-ring on the collar, a leather lead was attached, about two metres long. The other end of the lead was wrapped around Mike’s wrist. To complete our fantasy, my hands were cuffed together in front of me. Quite a few people stared openly at us, admiringly. With what we were wearing, it would have been almost impossible for even our closest friends to recognise us, and the feeling of anonymity, together with the leather and the fantasy was arousing and exciting. I felt so horny, so good. Mike leaned to me and whispered into the tiny holes in the mask over my ears “Fuck you look hot, boy! I keep getting a hardon, wish I could lay you down and fuck you right here!”. Of course, that made my own cock throb and swell, but instead of trying to hide it, I proudly displayed myself in the leather pouch for all eyes, drinking in the sight of my Master’s maleness swollen and solid under his leather codpiece. We walked, strutted around, my Master leading me along with the lead attached to the collar I wore. We stared and got stared at. Often, Mike would stand behind me, close, rubbing his leather clad cock against the bare skin of my arse. Or he’d get close enough for me to reach and squeeze at him with my cuffed hands. His leather gloved fingers found their way to my nipples, my butt and my cock over and over again. If either of us sensed someone was watching us closely, we would step up our groping, making sure we were both hard as steel, showing off our erections and displaying proudly our throbbing leather clad members. More than once one of the other party-goers would try to get their own hands on one or both of us, but a stern look, or a muttered grumble from Mike was enough to ensure that everyone knew I was his property, and that we were there to be looked at but not touched. The place was huge. There was a massive hall for dancing, a heavy beat thundering through the walls, thousands of sweaty bodies writhing in time to the music. There were quieter areas where you could just sit or stand and watch the crowd. There were food and drink stalls, and open spaces to promenade around and be on display. There were a couple of smaller halls with stage shows presented at regular intervals. We explored everywhere, dancing and writhing against each other amongst the sweaty mass, or standing or strutting proudly around, stopping for a drink or a bite (which Mike fed to me). More often than not I was erect, and the whole night I was so proud to be the object of comments and looks, alongside my leather clad man. In many corners, some dark and some not so dark, couples made out, groping and breathing, attacking each other with the urgency of passionate need. Mike and I used the opportunity several times to grope and embrace, kiss and squeeze before moving on. Late in the night (or early in the morning – it was around 5.00 am) we wandered into one of the stage show places. By that time, the crowds were still up but starting to thin. In the room, it was hot, musky. A feeling of masculine sexuality pervaded the very air. A stage was set up right in the middle of the hall, and people could stand all around it. Behind the standing area were raised rows of bench seats, still with a good view of the central stage only five or six metres away. Music began, a low seductive beat that you could feel rather than hear. The lighting changed so that the room was in near darkness apart from a red glow on the stage. Two men, dressed remarkably like us in full leather, one wearing a Master’s leathers, the other a dog collar and cuffs, stepped up into the red light. The Master pulled his slave boy to him, running his hands all over the other, reaching for his cock and gripping his arse, pulling at the straps of his harness and kissing him hard, pushing him back again. It may have been a performance, but they were obviously both getting right into it. Both were clearly erect and excited by the noise, the crowd, and the public display in which they were the star attraction. Mike and I made our way up to the seats. He sat down, and guided me down against him, his arms around me, the pulsing solidity of his cock pressing through the codpiece and against my butt. We concentrated on the incredibly erotic show a few metres from us, and his hands wandered over my body, as I pressed back wriggling against him. As the couple on stage writhed and humped at each other, their groping and attacking each other got more and more serious, the music grew louder. The Master pushed the slave to his knees, and ripped away the leather pouch he was wearing, grabbing the slave’s head and pulling it to his Master’s groin. The Master’s cock swung hard and ready in front of the watching crowd, and the slave let himself be pulled down onto it, his mouth swallowing that meat, bobbing back and forth, slavering over the throbbing cock. As the audience crowded closer, the Master began to face fuck his slave, humping against him, driving his cock deep into the boy’s throat and pistoning in and out. Watching this spectacle, I was hard as steel, and Mike’s cock was like a leather coated wedge pressing against my back, as his fingers played over my chest, pulling and twisting at my nipples. “Fuck this is amazing” he whispered to me as we joined the crowd, lost in the voyeurism of the room. A change, only slight, in the music. From above the stage a whirring as something was lowered from the ceiling. “Holy shit!” Mike exclaimed. From four long lengths of heavy chain running up into the darkness, a leather sling appeared. The Master and slave on stage continued their humping as it dropped to waist level. As it steadied, the Master pulled his cock from the slave’s mouth, and lifted the boy to his feet. Several slaps landed on the slave’s buttocks, as the Master turned him around, then ripped the jockstrap he was wearing from him. He pushed the slave back onto the sling, and using the handcuffs, restrained his boy in place. He then lifted the slave’s legs, and set his feet into a pair of stirrups dangling from the chains, exposing his arse to the room. The music built and the light concentrated to a spot where they were, the Master unwrapped a condom and rolled it down over himself, and smeared lube over his cock and the slave’s arsehole. I looked around, not believing what I was seeing. The room was full, everyone watching what was happening on the stage. The couple in the spotlight continued on as if they were completely alone, oblivious to the hundred or more people gathered around them. I was so excited myself I was trembling and I leaned back against my own Master. Mike leaned forward. “Wish that was us up there, boy” he hissed, as he ground his swollen tube of leathered meat against my cheeks. As the Master played with his slave’s cock on the stage, Mike attacked me with his hands. All eyes concentrated on the spot of light in the centre of the room, as the slave moaned loudly over the music, and the Master approached him, cock swinging hard and pointed. Leaning in between the slave’s legs, he sank his cock into the slave in one long hard shove. The slave let out a yell, and the Master slapped him again, and began fucking him, pounding into him harder and harder. All around the room, men were breathing heavily, many of them fondling themselves or other men. The spectacle was incredible. “Fucking hell!” came Mike’s throaty gasp at my ear. “I want some of that!” he said. “Neale, are you game?” I looked around. There were other men only feet from us, their attention directed to the stage. I ached, knew what he wanted, wanted it too. Fuck it! I thought, we’ve paraded around all night half-hard and on display. And no one here knows us, or would recognize us if they did. Leaning back to him I hissed “Yes, Sir. Let’s do it!” “Lift up, and sit on my legs, with yours apart.” He commanded. Spreading myself I straddled him, my back to his chest. I heard the snap, felt behind and his codpiece was undone, his beautiful, hard, leaking cock naked. I settled myself onto his legs, feeling his precum oozing out against my butt, running down my crack. Mike hawked some spit into his palm, and added it to the already substantial pool of jizz on his cock. More saliva was massaged into my hole by his leathered fingers as I twitched and hardened in anticipation. The couple on the stage were humping and bouncing, swearing and cursing loudly as the Master fucked his boy in the swaying sling of leather. I watched fascinated, needing it myself, wishing we could be using that sling. “Ready?” Mike whispered. I nodded to him and lifted slightly as he positioned his steel hard weapon at the entrance to my rectum. Slowly, trying to get as much benefit from the natural lubricant as possible, I lowered myself onto him. I grunted with the pain, trying not to be obvious. With Mike’s hands under my butt, helping me, we edged on, a little at a time as my protesting arse gave way to his insistent pole. Finally settling right down onto him, I felt his spear probing deep inside me, and relaxed myself as we steadied, adjusting to the unusual position. As the pain eased, replaced by the incredible fulfillment of Mike deep within me, I began to rock back and forth on him. The fucking on stage was getting faster and louder, and Mike began humping up into me. His arms were around me, his leathered fingers tugging at the chain connecting my tits, and squeezing hard on my leather clad cock, massaging my hide bound balls as his naked dagger speared into me, nudging the pit of my gut and twitching inside me. I clamped against him, rocking and swaying with him, forgetting about the show on stage, lost in the pleasure of my man inside me, as we were surrounded by strangers. As his thrusting sped up and my breathing got short, I turned my head, and realised that several of our neighbours had noticed what we were doing, and switched their attention from the stage to us. I didn’t care, in fact I found it even more arousing as I clenched against Mike’s invading rod and moaned to the tug of his fingers at my nipples. As he pumped harder at me, Mike hissed into my ear. “We’ve got our own show. Fuck this is hot. Let’s give ‘em something to talk about.” Louder, enough for those around us who had turned to watch us to hear, he said “Okay, boy, you hot little pussy arse, take this cock!” He shoved himself into me hard, and at the same time pulled down on the chain so both my tits were stretched and extended. I called out, for our own pleasure as well as for the benefit of the audience “Oh fuck yes Sir, shoot it up in there, Master!” The music hit a crescendo, the couple on the stage bucked and writhed as they reached orgasm, and at the same time my balls exploded, my cock emptying loads of cum into my pouch. Mike shoved and twitched, his cock bucking again and again within me as he poured his essence into my body, his ejaculation intense and searing. Suddenly, thunderous applause. The stage couple had collapsed against each other and the crowd was cheering them. Mike breathed heavily, deeply, and I lifted away from him before sitting again, turning and collapsing against his sated sweaty body. Around us, ten or twelve guys were cheering loudly with the rest of the crowd, but directing it to us rather than the stage. I was exhausted but proud, sated and horny all at once. I looked up to Mike and he smiled into my eyes. “Shit, I don’t believe we just did that, but fuck it was so hot!” As we recovered, and the room started to empty, a few of the guys immediately near us offered encouragement and praise. “better than the official show” “Fuck that was hot, mate” “thanks, guys, really enjoyed it” We smiled at each, not at all embarrassed, but proud and excited, turned on by what we had dared to do. After we regained a little strength, we sauntered back to the cloakroom, still wearing huge grins and sporting obvious erections. Changing slowly, reluctantly, we got into street clothes and made our way home. At home, we were too exhausted to make love again, but too excited and incredulous to sleep. We talked for hours, comparing notes, sharing our excitement at the public sex, reliving the amazing experience of the night. As the light grew stronger we eventually dozed into the morning, both of us dreaming again of the fantasy we had lived out that night. Later that day, we sat around, still recovering from the night before, still hardly daring to believe what we had done, and where. The memory excited us, thrilled us. No one knew who we were, yet we had made love, in full view of complete strangers, throwing caution to the wind as we had humped and fucked right there. “Neale, I was so turned on by you, and the show, and the whole night. It felt so hot, so good.” Mike said to me. I echoed his thoughts. “I know. I was so horny, I had to have you, had to be your sex slave right there in open view. God it was fucking hot!” “You know, that sling on the stage looked so incredible…” Mike looked long at me. “I’d really love to make love to you in a sling.” I returned his look. “I know, you always spend so much time looking at it and talking about it with the guy in the leather shop.” “I’ve been thinking,” he started, “we don’t use the spare room at all, for guests or storage or anything. It just sits there empty.” He paused. “Uh, huh?” I said, thinking ahead of him. He stopped, uncertain, then gushed forward. “We could set it up as our ‘fantasy room’, we could paint it dark, put in some shelves and mattresses, set up a sling and all kinds of stuff, make it a special secret place full of leather and sex and toys. I’ve checked on what we’d need, and it would be easy enough to secure the sling from the ceiling joists. They’re not that expensive, and we could spend hours and hours, days even, locked in there living out our fantasies. Just think about it Neale, it would be so incredibly erotic, so fucking hot, our own private dungeon, and …” I held up my hand to stop him, calm him down. “Whoa, there!” I grinned at him. “Sounds fantastic. I agree with you, let’s do it. You don’t need to convince me when it comes to something that gets you so turned on. Especially when it turns me on too!” He looked at me, stunned for a second, then broke into fits of laughter, hugging me tight and kissing me all over. “I love you!” “I love you too, stud” I laughed back at him. We walked into the leather shop again with grins splitting our faces. The owner came up to us smiling. As soon as Mike told him we wanted a sling, he grinned. “Finally make up your mind, did you?” he asked, nicely. We spent a while there, getting the sling itself, foot stirrups and a head support, as well as a pair of leather sheets, and some other bits and pieces. The shop owner also gave us a whole stack of information about what we’d need to set up, lengths and strengths of chain, support bolts, ‘D’ couplings, etc, that he didn’t sell but that we could get from any hardware store. As he chatted and scribbled notes, he mentioned that he’d been at Sleaze Ball the night before. “Yeah? “ Mike said easily, “we went along for a while, too.” “Well, you missed a fantastic show around 5.30 this morning!” the guy declared. “First of all a pair of guys started having sex right on stage, in a sling suspended from the ceiling.” “Really?” I pitched in, trying not to smile. “Absolutely! Then, about three seats in front of me, this incredibly hot couple, you know full on Master/slave types, start fucking right there. I could have reached out and touched them, they were so close. Real hunks too, both of them. I almost creamed my pants just watching them!” Mike coughed into his hand, and I stammered out “Wow, sounds like you had a great night.” I was grateful the light in the shop was low, so it wasn’t obvious I was blushing. As he packaged everything up for us, he said goodbye, and added “Have Fun!” Mike and I could barely keep our composure as we left. Outside, away from his sight, we broke into fits of laughter. Unbelievable! Was the thought on both our minds. That afternoon we bought the rest of the stuff we needed from a hardware store, and spent the evening planning how we would set up our special place.