Chapter Thirteen ~ hands on sex gets complicated

Warning – This chapter contains explicate sexual content

The reliving of inventive times was cut off by the less welcome and noisy intrusions of the neighbouring wings outdoor social time. The protagonists had returned to the window of course looking for further sport and were unfortunately gesticulating with their crotches and blearily calling out.

“Do yow want some of this you filthy nonce, it’ll choke you to death but that’s too good for yow yow filthy bastards.”

The limited vocabulary would always be a disappointment even if the sentiment wasn’t. The wardens moved them back behind the yellow lines eventually and I retreated to my memories of exploring sex.

From what I could gather for oral sex using the slang descriptions, it seemed you had to either, ‘give’ or ‘take’ ‘head’. I had of course tried these from the calves and to the milking cows. Knowing it was highly unlikely I would ever have the opportunity to try this out using the proper appendages or less likely with a real person, it had to be worth trying to find the next best thing and re-visit my rather unsatisfactory and sometimes painful efforts.

It had been quite a while since I had scared myself around the small eager feeding calves but, it had been enough to make me leave the matter alone. The idea though, had never left my head altogether. Obviously, I had to pick my moment and probably very soon as the animals were not so small anymore and might be less amenable as they too matured.

While masturbating regularly, with the aid of the rough stimulation sitting astride my ever-willing beasts, I had reluctantly avoided their inquisitive noses and butting heads. They would often help in cleaning up the resultant mess from my emissions, licking hands, and jeans while I was ultra-careful to always steer them away from the sensitivities of my groin. With the decision made to move forward with my quest, this was hopefully going to be very different.

Choosing one of the more malleable creatures I carefully introduced it, at a safe distance, to my now sizeable and manageable erection. The fear of being hurt made it a little difficult to maintain the normal exhilarating stiffness but, a firm grip at the base kept the blood from retreating and the twitching of the rod seemed to attract some attention. Keeping myself rigid was no problem, not ejaculating was another but I managed long enough for the stimulus of warm breath, lubricating saliva and soft mouth-parts rubbing along the shaft to add the exhilarating dimension I had hoped for. Unfortunately, the once natural suckling action of the youngsters I was expecting had been lost. The enthusiastic licking which replaced it was very good was not doing quite what I had imagined it might have been. Thinking round the problem I realised that perhaps I had to be more ‘masterful’ and take charge of the situation; as some of the stories had put it. Having come this far, I was determined to get my first ‘blow job’ one way or another.

Plucking up sufficient courage and with a small bundle of grass in hand, I easily managed to slip my fingers between a set of avid lips and curled into the prehensile tongue. Inside the safety of my hand I slid my more than willing member before removing my hand leaving me erection inside the confines of a hot, wet, accommodating mouth. Enveloping wetness and the rough surface of the tongue proved to be if anything, too stimulating but while caught up in the moment but still unfulfilled I let the animal moved off disgruntled. Waiting for a moment, breathing slowly and deeply to gain some control, I realised the experience didn’t seem to need the suction which had been described in fiction. Eager to prove the point I approached the same friendly accomplice once more, fortunately for me he was still interested; but I had more juicy grass to tempt him with.

While holding onto the soft wet eager nose for safety, I managed to position the soft jaws to emulate what I imagined were the restrictions of a more normal orifice. With my fingers being idly investigated I slid myself smoothly into the handful of warm gluttonous saliva. With long hot breaths billowing about my genitals and without anything more than a few gentle forward movements from my hips, I found myself climaxing with a ferocity I had never experienced before. With legs turning quickly to jelly in the process, I tried to maintain the heights and depths of my exhilaration as long as I could, trying to get deeper and harder with each spasm.

My grip was interrupted for those few elemental ecstatic moments and I somehow lost control of the hot passage I had finally exploded into. The moment was stellar in its final execution spoilt only by the recipient deciding they had participated enough with no apparent benefit to them. Being much stronger than me I had no option but to let it go. As my ecstasy faded and some small amount clarity returned, I realised the sensation had indeed proved to be astonishing.

It took me a few moments longer to know I not escaped undamaged. A tooth must have nicked the side of my now flaccid member and the still glistening wet surface was tinged with pink from the trickle of blood which ran down one side of it. Now I was in trouble.

The practical side of my brain kicked in and overrode the panic which was foaming up inside me. A well tied handkerchief and an immediate retirement to the house and bathroom showed it was not quite such a mortal wound after all. The blood had stopped pumping once the erection had slipped away and the small wound was already healing by the look of it. After only a few days of abstinence I managed to restore my pride and my member before attempting further exhilaration. They did and with each experience both parties became either more accepting or more skilful, for me at least it was a triumphal high point in my devilish development.

Despite this progress, there was an as-yet unclear expectation that there was more to it than just what I managed to experience. In the meantime, nothing had become obvious for tackling the other side of the oral experience other than the sucking of udders, but I expected my patience and ingenuity would find something or someone suitable. While patiently waiting for the day that it might happen, I had many thoughts on the multitude of unanswered questions which were left in the wake of my solitary and secretive experiences. Perhaps there were more interesting possibilities over and above just riding. My rather baser interests consistently considered the obvious genital differences between species but I was still interested in every type of reproductive organ just so I didn’t miss an opportunity or possibility. Overall, it was to be an experience which could only get better.

Cows had been OK for many wonderful things but, with the original expectations for my riding experience not going any further, I would need to find something more suitable to satisfy the addition of control and stimulus which I so wanted to experience. Horses were to be the next real thing to be conquered. Proper riding was going to be great, horses were going to be great and horses were out of the question; for now, anyway.

There were a lot of horses in the village but few which were accessible, covertly that is. There certainly weren’t any stallions, which was a disappointment although I understood the dangers of being around them. Despite that, I didn’t think I would have been too put off investigating them, purely because of the extremes they could potentially offer. The next best things were geldings, not that it could ever be the same. On the odd occasion when an opportunity would present itself, exploration was generally rather a let-down. It was difficult to get close to them either to see what they had or try to get it to work in my hands. Mares were too big and still ultimately uninteresting; while I was so relatively young anyway. Severely disappointed at the limitations I was finding, at least our own supply of cattle was generally amenable and at least on site, they had to be made adequate, if still poor substitutes.

A developing appreciation of having routines meant that I managed to build more sexual satisfaction which was regularly achieved and an equally fast-growing sense of curiosity fulfilled. Now, I don’t want anyone to think that I am complete obsessed about this side of my personal development but, it just seemed to be a major contributory factor in the matters which stimulated my writing this account.

Always trying to convince to myself I was not a complete freak of nature, I often sought out opportunities of more normal human, but still sexual, interests. This was generally only possible in the school showers of course and the probability of being caught looking at the offerings was too dangerous to make it overtly interesting. At home nudity was never exercised past the age of two or three although, I did catch my brother in such a state just the once. It wasn’t until I was in my late teens and I had locked myself out of the house one night and he had been the first to hear my throwing small stones at an upstairs window. He had to come down and let me in but unfortunately, for him anyway, he had been in the process of pleasuring his girlfriend at the time; the only comfort I got from the incident was that I now knew I was much better endowed than he was.

With hindsight and despite my previous protestations, I was not as isolated and abandoned as I might make it sound. There were normal role models in my father, brother, my sister, and her rather attractive husband as well as a large extended family. There were also one or two rather more distant school colleagues with girlfriends but not a gay guy in sight, so why was I having so much trouble being like any of them? The truth eluded me for many years.

The overriding fact of my development was that nothing ‘normal’ was ever going to happen to me which is why, I took my other interests as being the norm and didn’t go out of my way to seek out any of the alternatives with the hope that at some time in the future, I might be able to consolidate my sexual interests thus far, to make my adolescent days tolerable.

On another side of my multifaceted coin, despite all the everyday, even enhanced opportunities I was given, the relative freedom in the things of life never seemed to be either enough nor ultimately satisfying; perhaps there was no norm to search for? As a token experiment, I did occasionally try to make intimate contact with other boys. My confidence was strong enough, in my head at least, to know I wanted to be around them, but I had no way of getting to the point of making actual open contact. Towards the end of my single life I had learnt to engineer potential situations but had never gone through with more than looking on from an emotional distance. It didn’t help that I tended to pick boys who were straight and at least not gay, not that I had perfected being able to identify the difference properly. Perhaps it was just bad luck or maybe it was some subconscious design; I never knew.

The closest I ever got to the species was having a ‘best friend’ with a gay brother, the first confirmed homosexual who I had ever actually met. Although not the perfection I imagined for myself, he did at least play for the right team. My feelings for the straight brother were equally strong, if not more so. His perfectly honed body from years of martial arts training was a joy to behold and I often encouraged him to show off; not that he understood why. The limited efforts I did try couldn’t get the specific attention I hoped for from either of them. Realistically I doubt I made any significant or obvious moves in that or any other pertinent direction, really, I just didn’t know how to.

The result was an ongoing and constant disappointment in both me and the rest of the world for not helping me to help myself. This ultimately drove me back to the destructive, insular little world that I had created for myself. There I could bask in unspoken acceptance and the small comfort I could get from tried and tested quarters. All that abnormal behaviour was now so ‘normal’ in my strange world; it was hard to think why I shouldn’t keep going with it. The separation technique I had relied on for self-protection, would develop much further into something that I needed just to survive through the rigours of life, both physically and emotionally.

Time rolled ever onward and the things of life mainly passed me by although desire, disappointment, duplicity, deceit, all came in waves, some I bobbed clear of others I sunk spluttered but recovered, having learned a lesson or two here and there. A welcome addition to aid my desperately need independence was my own small motorbike and eventually my first car. With both I took full advantage to get myself active to more distant and discerning places. Most of this time was spent still on my own working out ways of advancing plans to fulfil my evermore obscure needs.

As far as my interactions with other people were concerned, any I did have were some just to keep my off the radar and were generally only as a ‘hanger on’ to other family members or friends. Throughout any, if not all of these, I never felt a core member of anything and nobody would be what I could call a friend rather than an acquaintance. My description of a friend was someone you could share all your thoughts and feelings with and have them do the same to you. Either way, perhaps the façade I had created had become too embedded to cope with the fear and embarrassment if I was to be exposed. There was so much of me which I wanted to share but now just couldn’t.

Over the remaining teenage years, I retreated into my cloistered world but continued to feed my riding obsession and other more personal interactions around not only our animals, but a wider world which unfolded with my greater independence and growing confidence. My rather homemade but inventive approach to equipment was satisfactory until I had the means to accumulate other purpose made items. The experiences when I managed them, were mostly satisfactory, but still very secret. Although I wanted to share these exciting times with someone the secrecy and dangers that went with them added their own frisson to the exhilaration. Perhaps I knew sharing might take some of the thrill and excitement away? When I allowed myself to consider the matter, I was torn between two trains of thought but I never actually had the opportunity to test the hypothesis so I would never know if I would have gone through with it anyway. The dangers were obvious but the potent obsession and its darker sexual gratification was something I couldn’t break away from.

In this solitary but satisfying world, I finished off what I considered to be the final discovery phase of these physical matters. With it I found an adequate confirmation where I didn’t need the complexities of any-thing, or any-one else to have my fun.

My carefully managed but manufactured persona became the ideal cover for as much physical interaction I thought I might ever need. As further self-justification I convinced myself I was experiencing much more than many of my peers might have but settled for the fact that I would never be able to experience anything ‘normal’ as much as I might want to be like them, be with them, be one of them, I know I never would.

Concentrating on some of these rather diverse obscenities might have been some distraction as I slept on in the unsatisfactory living arrangements of my prison cell, it simply resulted in the second wet dream of my stay although this time I didn’t let it happen so easily although the pain of squeezing down an ejaculation was a small penalty for my wilder recollections.

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