Pumpernickel!
The rest of the weekend (I think, though I'm really not at all sure how long we spent there) was spent wit, usually two of the Guys fucking me, while the other two did whatever they liked with each other. There were no inhibitions left. So it was all hands to the pump!
     And then, late in an afternoon, Jimmy said: “shall we pop down to yours, Docs?” And the two agreed without any hesitation. I had no idea what the attraction could be that was worth piling into two cars and driving the few miles to the village. The house was actually an old tower that had been
nicely restored. Nowadays it would be on Grand Designs or Gnomes under the Patio but back then, they just did it and only their friends saw what was inside. Which was very tasteful and charming, with wood panelled wainscots and varnished wooden doors and kind of Jacobean wallpaper above but not like a Pansy's house – which is the kind of thing my Mum would say if something was effeminate or unmanly. They gave us the guided tour starting in the attic which had originally been servants' rooms and now were fitted out as guest bedrooms, down to the main bedroom which was enormous with a huge Four-Poster and nice bouncy mattress which I looked forward to having a go on, or someone having a go in me on; a big bathroom with a bath for two and a roomy shower and a bidet and big fluffy white mats on the floor, perfect for me – I really felt I could live in a house like this, with Martin? I supposed I'd have to wait till I was older, but he might not want me when I was older.
     On the ground floor were living and dining rooms, another, smaller bathroom and a toilet, with what 
the guys explained was a glory-hole, so if someone was at the toilet, someone else could pop their cock through the hole for the person inside to suck or be fucked by, without knowing whose it was! They
told me it used to be a big thing in the public toilets (known as cottages) that gay men used to frequent. Inside locked cubicles they could be more discreet, but they said police used to come in dressed in plain clothes and entrap men, so it was pretty risky. The kitchen was like something in a professional restaurant – all stainless steel and marble counters. It probably cost as much the whole of mum and dad's house! And the window was really sliding patio doors that opened onto a patio and then steps down to the garden, which was a nice size and very private, not overlooked by anyone. You could do a lot of serious bonking there and no-one the wiser!
     Then we went down to the basement – I don't know if it would be right to call it a Torture Chamber, but there were a lot of different ways someone could be restrained and at the mercy of anyone – everyone! So of course they demonstrated one thing, with me as the guinea pig. It was a kind of frame which could hold my wrists and ankles so I was kind of spread-eagled, upright. So
 
 
 
 
anyone could fuck me front or back and I couldn't do a thing about it. Which Chris and Genghis demonstrated. And then Martin and Jimmy had their turn. I swear there must have been a lot of spunk dripping out of me when they were finished. And then they switched out the lights and did it all again, silently, with only their cocks touching me, inside me, so I didn't know who it was. And then they all went upstairs for drinks, leaving me there, absolutely shagged out and dripping spunk and completely knackered and all alone, strapped up in the dark! It wasn't a very nice feeling. And no-one to hear me if I said “Pumpernickel.”