The Stag Party - Part 1 SeXStoRY

The Stag Party – Part 1 It promised to be a good night; it turned out to be a memorable weekend. Chris was the new guy at work and he was having a Stag do, in his home town, on a hot Friday night. I agreed to go as a way of helping him settle in, I thought some of the others in our small team at work would also be going. I was surprised when I walked into the pub nearest the Railway Station, to find it was just the two of us. “You can bunk down on my parent’s sofa” Chris said “it’ll save you getting the last train”. Not to worry I thought, his mates in his home town will be ok if they’re like Chris. A loud cheer met Chris’s arrival at the arranged bar and I spent the first hour trying to stick close to Chris, as a series of friends and old work colleagues vied for his attention. A black guy called Fitzalbert bought me a beer in one bar and we got talking about Chris. It turned out Fitz, as he liked to be called, was a friend of a friend and he was surprised me and Chris weren’t close. I explained I hadn’t realised I was the only one from our workplace that was coming. As the night wore on I spent a lot of time talking to Fitz and less talking to Chris, who was now firmly ensconced with his closest two or three friends. At around midnight one of Chris’s mates asked to borrow his phone and after naively handing it over, Chris was manhandled and stripped down to his boxer shorts before being handcuffed. The crowds in the street around us cheered and jostled and before I knew it, I found myself adrift of the group I was with. Fortunately I spotted Fitz and made my way through the crowd towards him. As he wasn’t a particularly close friend of Chris or Chris’s closest friends he had decided to call it a night. By the time he told me this I had completely lost sight of Chris or any of the others. I rang his phone but it wasn’t answered. “Shit” I exclaimed, “I’m supposed to be stopping at Chris’s parent’s house, and then catching the train back tomorrow”. “No worries” said Fitz, “you can stop at mine, and I’ll drop you at the station tomorrow” Fitz’s s flat was a short cab ride from the town centre and was modern and impeccably tidy. He offered me a beer from the fridge then sat beside me on the leather sofa, a bit too close I thought. Suddenly I felt his hand touch my knee and due to the shock I found my mouth wouldn’t work. I should have jumped up, called him a pervert or hit him, but for some reason I couldn’t. He simply smiled and slowly started moving his hand up my thigh. “I knew I was right” he said. “Wwwhat do you mmean” I managed to stammer. “That this was what you wanted; I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me, checked me out. I know what to look for”. My mind was whirring, what was he talking about. I was straight, divorced, but straight, I’d never had a same sex experience, but it was true I’d often fantasised...... I was totally shocked though to think I’d given him the impression I was interested, I’d thought he was a fit toned bloke but I hadn’t consciously fancied him, we were in bars full of gorgeous women. However I didn’t deny it or try to stop him when his hand slowly moved up my thigh until it was between my legs. What shocked me even more was that I could feel myself starting to harden. I wasn’t the only one.... “Hmmm you like that” he said and placed my hand on his thigh. I left it where he placed it so he changed position and moved my hand onto his crotch. Again I didn’t stop him and my eyes must have widened as he stated to grow, even though I hadn’t started stroking him. He laughed at my shocked expression and said “what you’ve heard about black guys is true. “Is this your first time with a black man”. I nodded and managed to say “It’s my first time with any man”. His smile widened even further and he asked me if I’d ever fantasised about being with a black guy. As I said, I was straight but I had always wondered what it would be like to have a same sex experience. I’d jerked off but felt guilty afterwards and put it down to confusion. I never thought it would happen to me. One of my favourite fantasies had involved a black guy so I nodded again and admitted that I had fantasised about black guys. “Have you fantasised about sucking a black cock” he whispered. “Yes” I replied and found myself explaining that my fantasy was that I was tied up by a black guy and made to suck his cock, a reverse slavery fantasy if you like. At this he stood up, a massive grin on his face. “It’s your lucky night then” he said and stated unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes were drawn to the bulge in his trousers and I inadvertently licked my lips. “Take your shirt off” he ordered me and I shivered as I noted a change of tone in his voice....more commanding. I did as he said. “Stand up and strip......everything” was his next command and again I did as I was told. He dropped his trousers, removed his socks, then stood there, in a tight pair of white Calvin Klein briefs, and I couldn’t help but stare at the size of his erection which was now straining against the fabric. It looked enormous. He picked up his trousers, removed the belt and walked behind me. He put the belt around my neck and pulled it tight whispering “Let’s go fulfil your fantasy slave boy”.