My husband and I were walking on a trail as we sometimes do, just he and I, out for a summertime stroll to get some exercise and experience nature. We love it, the sights, smells, and intimate conversations are just magnificent, but knowing what was going on behind the proverbial scene that particular day makes this extra special. Anyway, we have a playful relationship together, but he likes it more and more when I'm the driving force these days, both in matters of the flesh, and even in other things such as where and what we're to eat and spend our free time. He has a job that gives him some stress, one that also provides enough for me to stay home if I choose though, but these "de-stress" outings of ours are more and more necessary these days, as is my taking charge of the daily details of life around our modest home.
So this on-the-surface nice stroll has some special elements with some very special connotations to them; my guy is wearing a very short pair of cuffed up ladies denim short shorts - that could still possibly be mistaken for men's cut off shorts if seen quickly - and an equally androgynous vee neck horizontally pinstriped top that accentuates his little man boobs. His rather nice and tan legs are even shaved smooth and on display- no socks at all - making those tiny shorts look extra good on him. He has really nice legs for a guy, he always has, even as a teen, ones that I'm half envious of to be honest. Guy bicycle racers and swimmers, and even gym rats sometimes shave their bodies, so this isn't purely feminine, but it doesn't necessarily scream masculinity on him either. My guy doesn't easily fit into any one mold, but if you've read my stories over the years you already know this. It takes courage to live like this, and a playful young state of mind too.
So his little guy-ass is squeezed into a short pair of tight fitting "look at my ass" shorts, the kind with almost-nothing front pockets big enough for a single key only, and the rear ones not even there and their openings stitched closed. These particular denim shorts aren't stretchy flex elastic either like some of them are, but rigidly conforming; if you can get yourself into them and get the zipper up and button closed, their shape will become your shape. The shirt is long though and hides some of these features, so again not fully fem or anything, but playfully suggestive and drifting this way. Underneath those shorts is a different matter, and the only reason they really fit on him is a tiny emasculating H.T. nub, in pink, to encapsulate his guy parts. He has his guy parts and the nub both tucked back out of necessity, leaving the front of the shorts devoid of the telltale man bump that they should have with him wearing them; the one specifically not sewn into the stiff cloth of the shorts to begin with.
On the other end he's wearing a pink jeweled and chrome plug, not large at all, but just it's being there makes for a special something to his steps; again it's not quite feminine, but he's not necessarily stomping like a guy either. Holding both of those items back and in are two pairs of thick pink panties, also while making for some serious panty lines for those who care to notice. He's dared me to find something he won't do outside of the house, and this is the dare, so a little his doing, and a little my own. Now the keys to the H.T. are safely home, as are his house keys, and even his phone, and there is no place at all to keep a man's wallet in those little short shorts either. I could dump him off on the side of the road and he'd have a most interesting time getting home, as I've playfully threatened when he was briefly critical of my driving. We're a little ways from home, it's also a new trail for us to explore too that runs near an old quarry for a bit, so it's most unlikely that we'll run into anybody we know.
Now we also like to play in an adult way in the woods too, but the message here is clear with that key purposely being left where it was, and that's that anything that happens today will be very one way only, as in he'll possibly be taking care of my needs, but I won't be taking care of his. He likes it like this though, it's like he lives to serve me, but the dynamic here is pretty wild all the same. I think really fun sex and kink starts between the ears, and so far here I've set myself up as the one in charge, the power dynamic firmly established that day. I see the meekness and subservience in him, not only in the way he's walking, but in the way he's deferring to my every whim, brief driving critique excluded. Could others see this too, strangers that didn't know us maybe?
So the part of this trail that comes closest to the old quarry has the noise of several quads racing around just having a blast in there, we can just see them through the trees. This trail is a rail to trails kind of thing, and it makes sense that you'd run the at-one-time train tracks near to the quarry, so that there was an efficient way to move the products produced there.
I've never ridden on a quad, but it looks like fun, and I also try to remind myself that we're having fun doing our thing, and they're doing much the same. We're talking softly though - things a husband and wife of twenty plus years say to each other when nobody's around - trying to listen to nature, and in contrast the racket from the quad's exhausts are disturbing that, taking away from the peace and tranquility of the moment. If we keep walking the sound will soon be behind us, and I elect for us to do this, as it seems silly to let some noise and somebody having some fun ruin ours, and therefore chase us back to my car. I drove a bit to get us here, and we're walking, that's just the way it is.
Quite suddenly the noise gets quieter, but much closer, and three quads then emerge from the tree line and kind of surround us on the trail. They shut off their noisy engines and then take off their muddy helmets almost instantly so they can speak with us face to face though. I know this sounds quite threatening, and perhaps it could have been, but I just didn't get that "danger, run away" vibe, and where could we run to, that they couldn't catch up to us in seconds on those machines anyway?
My husband likely thinks the same, because he's not close up with me in a defensive posture, putting his body between the perceived danger and my own, as I've seen him do on rare occasions. Helmets on and they're anonymous for what evil they decide to do next, helmets and engines off and they're humans wanting to have a conversation, or so went my perception in the moment.
By build and face alone these aren't men, but teenage boys, and I'll assume that they're at least eighteen. Now I'm wearing shorts and a shirt almost like my husband, but comfortable loose ones, and I find it odd that the eyes in the group go to my husband instead. This isn't malicious at all though, I know this look that they're giving, I've had it myself a bunch of times, and overall it's rather flattering. Their eyes are almost ignoring me though; instead looking at my guy as if to say "I'd like to get to know you a bit better." I know he's had this look from girls and women himself over the years, because my guy is a good looking respectful, soft spoken man, but maybe this is the first time he's attracted attention like this from a fellow man, or in this case three young men who aren't all that good at hiding what they're thinking. He's maybe not a "ruggedly handsome" man to others, but quite handsome to me all the same, not that appearance is the sole criteria for judging the people around you…
I find the attention, and lack thereof amusing, although I'm also a bit put off by it too, but to each his own and all of that…
"We're sorry mister," the one boy starts, and his tone is almost patronizing, but nothing you could call out or anything. They're talking to him, and ignoring me, but their eyes are roaming all over him while they do. I see this and think to myself, does my husband have some admirers?
…Now full disclosure here, to this day when I want to get him off, but I don't want actual sex for any number of reasons, I'll use a handjob combined with an erotic story. Sometimes I'll do the "hands-on" part myself, or if I'm feeling a bit bothered I might make him do that part while I watch. Try it sometime, make your guy stroke himself off while you watch, make him intimately perform for you like this, it's quite empowering. Anyway, most of those types of stories involve something happening to me at the hands of others and him helplessly watching, it's just something that twists him up sexually, but each time the story has to be unique, or at least have some unique elements. This rings of things that we've actually done, and trust me it was hot back then too, impossible emotions and lust.
Now when I can't get him to pop off - and it does happen as we all get older - I'll twist up the story a bit, having a few fictional guys grab him instead. It's very hot and taboo, and it will always get him to pop, like one hundred percent effective. Now I don't know that this makes my guy bi curious or anything, but I also know that since he's been a teen he can deepthroat a silicone cock of some serious proportions without gagging at all. He can deepthroat something even bigger than I can, and not just for three seconds either. Early on I desperately wanted him to try that out on a real flesh and blood man, but the one I had in mind flatly refused, and it's probably better off that way anyway; things you can't unsee and all of that.
Still it seemed a waste not to use such "skills" even though he never has to date - on a real flesh and blood man that is - and maybe even he did too, and this is why his getting grabbed by some rough and horny men for such things was so effective. Such "forced activities" removed choice and guilt, and that still works for me to this day; so why shouldn't it for him too? Such also rings of some serious submission, and I know as he gets older that particular personality has come out even more. It's just who he is…
My husband sees three sets of guy eyes checking him out, blushes, and tells the young man that it's okay. He's so put off his game by their obvious sexual interest and attention that I'm trying not to laugh.
"We didn't mean to disturb you or anything" the young man persists, looking to further this conversation while all three are undressing my guy with their eyes, furthering this uncomfortable interaction for him. This teen who's speaking can see that my guy is flustered by all the attention, but instead of my guy getting angry or "manning-up" or anything, he instead blushes further and clasps his hands behind his back in a clear sign of submission to these three; while perhaps unintentionally thrusting out his little man boobs, accentuated by the vee neck and the stripes. I've obviously seen submission on him before so I know what that looks like, but not under these exact conditions. The position he has his hands is suggestive of being handcuffed, a further submission, and the thought sticks with me. In fact, I have a pair with me in my day bag, along with some other things.
"It's really no bother," my husband explains, "we'll just continue down the path and let you boys have your fun… I will admit that riding that thing looks like fun though," he offers, perhaps wishing for this interaction to continue.
"Do you want me to give you a ride, mister?"
Is this a sexual double entendre? I ask myself. Is this young man openly flirting with my husband, right in front of me? We don't always wear rings though; do these young men even realize that this is my husband, or do they think he's some kind of free agent here, there for the proverbial taking?
"I don't know if I should," my husband persists, but I can tell that he's curious, and also looking for permission, from me. He's a former motorcycle rider himself, but this four wheeled machine is different, and so too is this potential offer that this rather cute teen is making. I assumed in this scenario that he'd be this teen's temporary queen, riding on the back to wherever the teen decides to take him. We've known these boys for like three minutes, but there is nothing threatening in their actions, quite the opposite in my husband's case.
"I know you're curious," I tell my husband softly with my own double entendre, "why don't you borrow a helmet and go for a little ride with your new friend while I wait here with the other boys?" I propose, giving permission for this in my own unique way. It's completely sexist of me I realize, as I'd never allow him to go off with a teen girl under the same circumstances - cute or otherwise - and with the same implied permissions to indulge himself. Then again he's presently caged and plugged, so even if this was a teen girl with the hots for my guy twice her age, he'd be doing all of the giving, and none of the actual getting.
It's bold I realize, but when do such opportunities actually present themselves? We then make proper introductions, the boys are Tommy - who apparently has the biggest man crush on my husband - and Frank and Bob, who may or may not be interested in my guy as well; but to be certain they're not the least bit interested in me. As I've said, I'm maybe a bit put off by this to be honest, but young men and young ladies have far more varied and socially acceptable menu options than when we were that age, and few judgements too, if my reading of the current culture is accurate.
A helmet is tossed to my guy before he can say yes, or even no, the boys and I have decided for him, he's going for this ride with Tommy, his new teenage friend. I watch him mount up on Tommy's yellow machine, the saddle wide, nothing at all like the tiny p-pad of Ken's Sportster, but he also has to spread his legs to accommodate it. I watch him gingerly sit as I'm reminded of his cage and the plug, wondering at what that feels like, and will feel like depending on the terrain and speed that Tommy uses.
He's just been freshly delivered into this teen's hands, and vicariously I'm there with him. His tan, freshly shaved smooth legs, look downright sexy up around Tommy's black riding pants covered ones, and now his little short shorts and misplaced shirt let his pink panties play peekaboo with the three of us left watching. Tommy's two watching buddies see this as I catch a picture with my smartphone, but they don't verbally comment, they just share a knowing look between each that I also catch. My guy at first grabs at the bar on the back of the seat spoiling our view of his panties, but the boys know the score now, so it really doesn't matter. Anyway, wrapped around that grab bar is a thick rope though, either for pulling another quad out of the mud if it was stuck, or for other purposes maybe.
In any event my guy feels the rope back there and isn't put off by it, he's just now forced to hold onto the small waist of his teen pilot and chauffeur instead. With his borrowed helmet on I can't see his expression through the tinted visor as he turns to look at me one last time before Tommy starts the noisy engine and takes my husband for his ride. It only lasts a second as Tommy revs his engine and takes off; with the dirt flying off of both rear wheels and the force of the acceleration my guy has to hug Tommy tight to keep from falling off of the back, likely as the clever teen intended.
Frank and Bob both laugh, and I maybe get a bit of deja vu with him watching me ride away with Ken on his bike back in the day, it's quite the feeling being on the other side of something like this though. It's not "exactly" the same though, because if this was a teen girl I might not be so amused myself. It's strange that in my mind running off like this with a young man is somewhat okay with me, even dressed as he is, even suspecting the interest Tommy has in him. It's different though, my husband likes to share, where I made it perfectly clear pretty early on that I don't. He accepted this back in the day, and still to this day, although I haven't actually used my own permanent "hall pass" in years.
I'm also reminded of how I bring my guy off sometimes, of fantasies realized, and of how many of those my guy has somehow provided for me over the years, both on his own, and with certain select others. It's perhaps a debt that I owe, and in this particular setting also a unique opportunity, and I vow in my mind to be open to whatever comes next.
Frank, Bob, and I all talk after the noise of the quad goes through the woods a bit, into the quarry proper by the sounds of it. I ask the boys where they think Tommy will take him, and they suggest that they'll do a tour around the quarry. They tell me not to worry, that Tommy is very good and safe with that machine, but he is playful too.
"How so?" I ask, we three just having a wonderful conversation as the time passes, and no, I'm not frightened at all, these young men are quite nice; I haven't even heard a single cuss word, and in this day and age it's sometimes impossible to hear somebody express themselves without F this and F that, so this is also refreshing. It would be a huge exaggeration to say that all guys that I interact with all want to get into my panties, but to be sure some do, and here it's almost refreshing not to be on their proverbial menu.
"Tommy just broke up with a very special long term friend," Bob tells me, "and those guys did some wild things together, but we do too," he admits while looking at Frank playfully. There's a sparkle in his eyes and some serious affection between both guys, it's both obvious and sweet.
"The pink panties and little shorts were a bit of a tell," Frank tells me with a smile, confirming that both guys obviously saw them too. Were my husband and I unintentionally baiting the hook, and did Tommy the hungry and needy shark just happen to swim by and notice, or was this instead fate itself?
"Yes, we like to play around a bit too, guys," I confirm. Both boys' phones then ping with a message simultaneously, and I see them open their screens and their instant reactions to what they see. Tommy and my guy have been gone for like half an hour by now, and I expect them back soon. Both guys look at me, as if to say, "now what do we do?"
My phone then pings with a text message too, but from an unknown number. "Who's 3223 I ask rhetorically?"
"That's Tommy's phone, everything's fine, nothing bad happened," Bob tells me, seeing my face and thinking the worst and they maybe had a crash or something.
"Can I please keep him for a bit longer to play? He said I had to ask permission first?" Tommy texts me. I'm relieved there was no crash, but then I wonder, play how, exactly? I know what I'm thinking, but wow is this going fast!
The only way Tommy could get my number was if my guy gave it to him, and there is no way on earth that small Tommy could make my guy really do something he didn't want to, no matter how he was dressed, so I'm inclined to indulge this request, but under some conditions; some very familiar ones from our own teenage years.
"No means no, that's the only stipulations that I have" I send back. "What color is his car by the way?" I ask, just to make sure he really is a willing participant in whatever Tommy has in mind for him.
"…It's a white Toyota econobox" I get back, after maybe ten seconds.
"Have fun!" I send, wondering if I had done the right thing. My guy calls it an econobox himself, it's a practical little car for his needs, but I have the nice car between the two of us. This is my guy's doing, he likes it this way too.
…I've been there with those guys for so long that I've handed out water bottles and snacks, but they've been great company; this day however is not going as I expected. I eventually hear an approaching quad, but when it gets close I see a helmet strapped on the rear seat and no husband.
"You forgot somebody," I tell Tommy once his helmet is off, I'm not quite frightened yet, but this is just something else that I just didn't expect to happen today. I also take notice that the thick rope is no longer on Tommy's seat grab handle, and Tommy just smiles at me when he sees the direction of my eyes. This seems like a different and very "at peace with himself" Tommy, but we've only talked just the slightest bit, so I don't know if this is projection on my part.
"He bet me that I couldn't tie him up so he couldn't escape; he lost," Tommy tells me, giggling like a schoolgirl. Bob and Frank laugh too, there is a shared joke in there someplace, I just know it. I'm reminded of my own boyfriend's long ago bet with me along a similar line, the one that started this whole adventure off for us. Tommy apparently got the same opportunity, the same wager, and I just know that my guy likes to lose bets like this. This tells me again that my guy has offered himself to this teen, but in a way that allows him to deny giving express permission for whatever happens next. It's a psychological balancing act; one that I've played at myself a time or two.
Tommy unstraps the helmet on the back of his machine, but before he tosses it to its owner he pulls some clothes from it's interior, specifically everything my guy was wearing, less one pair of pink panties and his sneakers. Tommy tosses these to me and I look at Tommy for an explanation, and he tells me that he couldn't have my guy escaping until he also properly thanked his friends for keeping me company for the last hour or so; and stripping him naked would keep him from wandering off.
It might for most people I thought to myself, even without that tiny cage and plug. Tommy had to know about those now, that my guy, despite being at least twice their age, was a submissive curious soul in matters of the flesh. I watched the verbal portion of that submission first hand before the pair even left for their ride. He obviously submitted to Tommy in some physical way too, and I'm naturally curious as to the details. I'm not necessarily jealous, oddly enough, but maybe it's because I see Tommy and his friends as a playful taboo distraction to our routine, and not, in practical terms, a serious threat to our happy home.
"Best ever" Tommy tells his friends with a smile, "you'll see. He's just off the trail on the right after you cross the stream, I dropped a pin," Tommy adds.
"Best get going, I'd hate for somebody else to come by and collect him first," he then tells his buddies. I apparently have no say in all this, in what's to come next, young Tommy has already decided for me, for us. This young man is therefore quite special, beyond his years confidence wise, but I heard a bit of that in his tone with my guy when he was talking with him, verbally dominating him as if he were the younger, and not Tommy. At the moment I didn't maybe see this for what it was, not exactly anyway.
Bob and Frank peel out of there after saying goodbye to me, but I'm to see them again shortly. I'm the "twice their age" adult here too, but these young men have things pretty much their way, and not necessarily my own. I can tell that they won't hurt him, or even me, that this is playful and fun for them, an adventure, but the power they're taking for themselves is intoxicating. Their excitement is too, to be honest, and it's slightly contagious. Maybe living a lifestyle like this makes you wise to the way of things early on, and not doing so, as we did ourselves when we were teens back in the day, allowed for a bit more naivety? Thoughts for another day, I tell myself.
"So here's what I propose," Tommy tells me, once his friends are gone. "We've apparently ruined your walk in the woods here today anyway; so how about I park this thing and you and I walk back to your car, nice and slow as I'm in riding boots myself, and I'll have the guys deliver your guy to us there?"
"When they're done with him?"
"Something like that, but you have to know that he's really good at it, like super eager to show off what he can do. That little cage thing is hot by the way, I've heard of them, but I've never actually seen one in use. It looks so small; do you keep him in it often, or is this something he does for you? I know, I know, I'm a million questions, but he's a rare find, you have to know that."
With our day pretty much shot and few options otherwise I agree to Tommy's suggestion, and he rides his machine into the woods a bit and then comes walking back out with his key and helmet. We walk and talk and generally just have a nice adult conversation, only interrupted by Tommy texting his friends our updated plans. It's surreal really, as I'm pretty sure that my husband had just serviced Tommy after getting stripped naked by him, after he discovered what lay hidden under his tiny shorts and top. He's also measuring me up verbally, trying to get a sense for where I am with all this. I see and hear it, but I also let it happen; this young man isn't taking so much as using, or perhaps maybe borrowing, and I know my guy gets off on that too.
I don't know that I had a choice if I wanted my husband returned to me anyway, and with everything going on that day I sort of forgot that I had put his clothes into my day pack reflexively. I saw him ride away with Tommy somewhat dressed, and in my mind he still was, even though his clothes were now in my possession and a million things had changed since then.
"Do you want to see a picture?" Tommy asks enthusiastically, after we eventually got to my car in the empty parking lot and we were just killing time waiting for Bob and Frank, and what I playfully thought of as their temporary captive. It's like he's sharing a special secret with me, and in a way I suppose he is. In it my guy, my curious and submissive husband, is on his knees with his back up against a small four inch maple tree, stripped down to his skin with his tiny emasculating pink cage on full display; with his rather nice and tan smooth legs crossed behind the tree and bound with Tommy's belt. His arms are straight up with his wrists on either side of one of the low limbs that such trees are known for, with his wrists bound together there, and excess rope wound around his arms trapping them to the tree trunk to below his locked elbows.
He's not only helpless, but sexy as hell looking like that, especially with me knowing who made him like that. His expression is just wild, he's totally turned on, I can see the fire and lust in his eyes. I wonder briefly if he had even really noticed this exact look in my own eyes once, but for another man other than him? Is Tommy proud of so easily besting my guy, or is he just sharing something that his smart phone was able to capture.
His whole body below his ears is presently devoid of all bodily hair, and other than his obvious short "guy hair" and pink caged appendage, the look is more feminine than masculine, little man boobs and all. For me this is just who he is and how he looks, but there was a time that I was maybe a bit less accepting of all that. Anyway, Tommy is watching my eyes closely as I look at his picture, and I ask him if he had shared this with his friends already, which he tells me that he has. It's likely what Frank and Bob had reacted to when I was watching them, so this makes sense.
Then Tommy asks if he can show me a video, and part of me wants to see this, and part doesn't, as you can't unsee something like that. I know I sent him off with Tommy in the first place, but I don't want to actually watch, I didn't think it would actually go all the way here, despite my suggestive language. Seeing him deepthroat one of my toys is about as far as I'm comfortable actually watching, despite my trying to get him to do the real thing a few times in our teen years. That never happened - real guy on guy sex - and therefore other than with my toys, my guy was a virgin in that kind of thing.
Well, Tommy is a smart young man, because the video he shows me is instead of my guy telling him he has to ask me first, and it even has him telling Tommy what kind of car he drove, and before that freely giving my phone number to ask the permission he presumably already gave by loosing his wager. The wager and actual stripping and binding wasn't in there, but if there was ever a legal question of permission/consent, Tommy would have some serious evidence on his side. Then again, it would be impossible for Tommy to both bind and video it at the same time, so this may have been more practical for him anyway.
"Could we borrow him again, maybe for a camping weekend?" Tommy asks, again seeing my reaction to his video, seeing how into this my guy was. There is just no hiding his full blown excitement, this is new and exciting for him, it's like he's a teen all over again, and Ken is stealing me away for the night, or we're boat dumping him off on a tiny island. I'm envious, and I feel guilty if not allowing this again, but he has to want to do this too. Maybe this'll be a once and done for him, checking that guy on guy taboo box on his bucket list and nothing more. I also know how turned on my guy used to get while camping though, and we don't do that anymore these days… but maybe we should.
What would I do if I had the house to myself for a whole weekend? I playfully asked myself.
We eventually hear the slow progression of a single quad coming through the woods at slow speed, and in my mind this makes sense as one of the riders might not have a helmet on. It's walking-speed slow, and the anticipation is maddening for me though. Tommy gets a ping on his phone and he laughs, watching or reading something, but not sharing it with me. Eventually I see it though, through the trees on a little hidden walking path, but I have to blink to really see what I think I see. I look over at Tommy who is also watching, but less surprised than I am, the smile and playfulness clear on his young face.
There is a single quad coming very slowly through the woods, one helmeted and properly attired rider driving, or perhaps riding the slow moving machine, and a second dressed the same, but facing backwards on the seat. There is a third person involved though, with the heavy rope from both the picture and video, tied around his wrists in front of him, with the other end toed off to the quad. This is my nude and caged husband, walking slowly with his little cage bouncing to his cautious steps, gagged with a pair of his own pink panties. When they get to us I'm rather grateful that the parking lot is empty, my guy led back to me like a leashed animal, but still this isn't evil, it's playful. The backwards facing rider was keeping an eye on him, so other than the humiliation, it's all good.
They officially deliver him back to me by handing me the rope, and then unbind his wrists for me, the symbolism obvious. I remove his panties from my mouth myself, handing them to Tommy as a souvenir and telling him that I would think about what he had offered…
Everything up until my guy going off with the three quad boys actually happened, the rest is straight up kinky fantasy, but you never know what the future holds…