Stone's Face by wj

On my way out of the diner, a man stopped me and asked, “Are you Ed Stone?” When I answered that I was, he told me that he had learned of me from Geoff, whom I knew as another regular at the diner. Introducing himself as Tom Williams, he said that, from what he had heard from Geoff, he was sure that I would enjoyed a play date at his houseboat. In the few seconds this exchange took, my face must have flushed noticeably. Geoff must have told Tom about the time he had coaxed me into letting him undress me, inspect me, edge me, and stroke me to orgasm. Standing by the door near the busy cash register, I was caught between the feelings of embarrassment that had me wanting to leave without saying a word in reply and the sudden excitement that came with the memory of the evening at Geoff’s.

Standing there, one particular picture came to mind, that of seeing myself naked standing next to fully dressed Geoff in his living room. My heart pounded and I realized that behind me was a wall mirror, and that, turning then to look, I would think of how I wanted Tom Williams to undress and play with me as Geoff had done, while I watched it all in the mirror. My voice was gone, I tried to say something, but it wouldn’t come out. “Call me,” Tom said, tucking a card in my shirt pocket. He looked very satisfied at my embarrassed response. When I got to my car around the corner, my heart was still pounding, and I sat with my eyes closed, images from the mirror flooding from that evening months before. Tom’s smile, as he had spoken of the play date and my pleasure, came to mind as well. I called him as soon as I got home and left a message on his machine.

He called back in less than an hour. I was again nervous, the fact of which he seemed very aware, and repeatedly assured me that I would have a great time. We made a date for the following Friday evening at Tom’s houseboat down on Lake Union. For days I thought of the coming date, getting hard thinking about it. It would be very different than the time Geoff had invited me to his apartment after we had talked in the diner. Geoff had seduced me, making very polite requests and saying how much he would appreciate my assenting to his unbuttoning my shirt or then taking it off completely. I had enjoyed his voice intoning with assurance that his undressing and then looking at me and touching me was the right thing to do. With Tom there wouldn’t be any coaxing. I had, by calling him, confirmed what Geoff had told him, I liked being undressed, admired, and stroked.

I told Tom that I was nervous, when he met me at the entrance to the dock. “Nervous or excited?” he asked, which made me think for a moment how much I wanted him to reassure me as Geoff had. Was I nervous because I was not eligible or deserving of the courtesies of seduction? I didn’t know how to answer my own question of myself or his entirely. “Both,” I replied. “I am very excited and nervous at the same time.” As we walked down the dock and spoke those few words, I looked at him and his look told me that he was enjoying my nervousness, my vulnerability. My heart was pounding.

Once inside the houseboat, Tom had me look at the two of us in a large mirror as we talked and he undressed me slowly. He went about it rather like a window dresser in a department store window. For a few moments I thought I might calm down entirely and feel relaxed. But the moment he unbuttoned three buttons on my shirt and looked inside, I was suddenly trembling. “Oh, Ed,” he said, looking inside my shirt. “You are naked.” I was in a way shocked by his statement. I wasn’t naked. I was trembling because I was being undressed slowly and was anticipating being naked for him. Yet, he was describing my trembling as my nakedness. My feeling, my desire showed completely. He was right. I was naked.

I don’t know how it was that I didn’t shoot my load in my pants before he unbuttoned them, I was so excited. Somehow Tom knew how to direct my attention and divert me from orgasm. That had to have been it. When I was completely undressed, Tom insisted that I look at my face in the mirror while he told me what we were going to do. For that he had me step closer to the mirror. We had been standing about six feet from it. For this part, we were only about a foot and a half from it. He told me slowly, while watching me watch my own facial expression, that he was going to put a cowbell on my cock and walk me down the dock to another houseboat where some friends of his were waiting for us. I watched my expression change. Tom enjoyed seeing me see my stunned reaction, which then soon began to be mixed with excitement. There was also an expression I didn’t expect, curiosity. I found myself looking at my face as though I was engaged in an effort to discover my own feelings.

I started to say something, but Tom stopped me. “Talk to me, but look at your own face.” he said. “Tom,” I said, “The dock is a public space, I don’t want people to see me, not just anyone passing by.” “Ed,” he replied, “It really isn’t a public dock. Only owners, renters and their friends use it, and this time of day it is pretty quiet. You are with me. I know everyone and will take care of anything. You are going to be glad you did this,” he added.

He put the bell on my cock. It fastened with a ring at the base of the head snugly. I was again very nervous, which now seemed not to matter to him as he was consumed again as the window dresser. Once he was satisfied that the bell was a good fit, he told me to walk around at a normal pace so that he could hear the bell. He explained that, when we went into the other houseboat, his friends needed to know when to look at the doorway. That was why the bell was so important. “They need to see your face as you walk into the room like this.” he told me. The ring on my cock head felt wonderful, even when it hurt a little. The bell’s weight made my hard on stand out straight from my body, except that, when I took a step and it swung, my cock pointed more toward the floor for a second, before bobbing up again. The bell was the right weight.

“Okay, Ed. You’re ready to go.” With that he went to the door, opened it, and motioned me to come with him. I looked at myself in the mirror and looked at him at the door. “Tom,” I said, “Could you look to see if anyone is out there? Your friends want to see me, but other people could be upset. I don’t want to be in trouble.” “It is okay,” he said. “They are waiting to see you, Ed. We’re going down the dock now.” For a moment I thought I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take a step toward the door naked with a cowbell hanging from my hard cock, my face flushed with excitement. But I did it. I walked to the door, looked out, looked at Tom, whose face suddenly bore a distinctly mischievous expression. When I hesitated, he pulled me (clang, clang) out the door by my left elbow and like a child being taken to the principal’s office, walked me down the dock in the twilight to a light green houseboat, the bell announcing every step I took. I felt there were eyes that had come to the windows of the houseboats and were watching me. Tom led me to and opened a side door and then into the kitchen within. To the left was a stairway. “Up the stairs, Ed. They are waiting to see you,” Tom said. “Go. Show your face.”

I went up the steep stairs, the cowbell clanging, and into a bright room, which seemed furnished more like a lobby than anything else, a lobby full of men all directing their attention to me as I emerged to show my face, as Tom put it. And he put it rightly. I showed my face first and foremost coming up the stairs into the room that way. It seemed that my face was the part of me that interested them most, though they were very interested in my hard on as well.

“Where is Sandy?” a fellow in a leather chair asked. “Did Tom tell you about Sandy?” “No,” I replied.  Someone else said, “Tom probably forgot and is getting him now.” I was standing then by the door, or rather the railing at the top of the stairs and about seven or eight feet from the nearest chair. There were five men, one of them very cute. Behind me was a sudden rush. A small Labrador came up the stairs and sniffed my left thigh and hand. “He will lick your balls,” someone said. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” “You will like it,” someone else offered. Sandy did lick my balls and it did feel wonderful. Then someone directed Sandy to what was evidently his place under a table.

On the table were some three by five cards, which Tom, who had come up the stairs after Sandy, picked up, briefly looked through, and handed to the fellow in the leather chair. He alone asked the questions from the cards, questions which were framed so that I had to admit to my desires or describe them. Often, they began with, “Do you want to tell us . . .” When asked, for example, I said that I wanted to tell them about the first time I was naked with a clothed male and how it made me feel.

At scout camp we had been instructed in what to do in case we encountered a bear. The instruction was that the scout was to take off his jacket and, laying it on the ground, retreat slowly in the direction of camp. The bear would be interested in inspecting the jacket, allowing time for the scout to put distance between himself and the danger.

As the straggler on a return from a short hike into the woods, I had heard something on the trail that sounded like a large animal and, having no jacket, took off my shirt, laid it on the trail and slowly retreated. Still some distance from camp, I again heard something that sounded like a large animal. I took off my pants, laid them on the trail and, continued to retreat towards camp slowly. Soon after that, I saw at a distance further down the trail the assistant scout master, a very handsome young man. He was not headed towards camp, but rather towards me. Immediately, as I thought about how soon he would notice me, I decided that I wanted nothing more than to take my underwear off, lay it on the trail and let him see me like that.  I laid my underwear on the trail and continued down the trail toward him. When he saw me he smiled, and the moment he did that, my cock got hard. I tried to pretend I didn’t know I had a hard on, when I explained to him that I had left my clothing on the trail on account of a bear. But he said, “Ed, you have a hard on. You don’t want to go back to camp like that.” Then, confronted with the fact, I told him it just happened when I saw him and that I didn’t think it would go away. He smiled again and assured me it would be okay. He looked up the trail and down, then led me off the trail and around a large tree. “I’ll make it okay,” he said. “I know what we can do.” With that, he rested one arm on my shoulder and began stroking my cock with the other. “Come on, Ed,” he said. “You can do it,” he said and put his lips to my right ear. “Yes, Ed,” he said and kissed my neck. “Do it for me.” Very quickly I came. “It’s going to be okay now,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.” And it was. He took me up the trail where we recovered my underwear and then, seeing that there seemed no sign of a bear, further up the trail to my pants and shirt.

Having told the group of that first experience, I volunteered that one of them reminded me of the assistant scout master, and they all smiled. I said that it felt very good to tell them how excited that made me feel, both to see that one of them looked like the assistant scout master and to tell them that.

I was asked if I would like to swing the bell? I said I wanted to and did. Did I want one of them to dab the pre cum from my cock? I answered that I did want that. Did I want them to open my slit, when they dabbed the pre cum from my cock? Oh, yes. please. Would I like to see myself in a mirror? Yes, I would. I was told to turn around. I hadn’t noticed when I had come up the stairs that there was a mirror on the wall above the stairs. They asked if I wanted to tell them how it felt looking in the mirror at myself. I could see some of them behind me in the mirror, but not the cute one who reminded me of the assistant scout master. I told them that and the cute one stood up and came over and stood next to me. He rested an arm on my right shoulder and put his lips to my ear. “Ed,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.” And it was.