Friday night on the Underground

Puzzled, I turned to Clifton, who was now standing on the side of me, his prominent body shape making an even bigger impression being so near. His hands were enormous, manicured and hairless, impeccably turned out, his white shirt sleeves just peering out of the sleeves of his black jacket. His grey and black striped trousers rested on very shiny black brogues. His dark brown eyes were deep, overwhelming and piercing. His expressionless face was commanding and he generally looked powerful and strong, therefore not someone you could push off easily while trying to escape which at that point I was seriously considering. Yet, there was excitement in the situation, were they threatening? Well, yes a little bit, with their physical strength and the slightly weird circumstances, the plush surroundings and my feeling ill at ease there, although at no point was I made to feel unwelcome or was my presence questioned, mocked or ignored. So I felt that I should stay a while, after all, I was in a beautiful house, in the company of amazingly good-looking men… why complain?

Clifton helped me stand then got the bottom of my tee shirt and lifted it over my head. It was done without force, in a very professional manner, evidently the man knew what he was doing; he then opened the top button of my jeans, then proceeded in opening expertly each and every single buttons of my fly, his thick fingers only very slightly touching the fabric covering my now partly semi-hard cock. He then pulled my trousers down, lifting my legs one at the time to free them from my jeans, which he did after he unlaced my shoes and took them off. I noticed a bit of sweat on his forehead, the heat in the room was intense despite the opened doors, he then looked up, intently into my eyes, my heart missed a beat, I suddenly felt somewhat spellbound and mesmerised, excited, yet in complete peace and all the notions of escaping just disappeared.