The Human Cage

Chapter 1-2

As Dale examined the results of his university fitness regime, even fluffing his c**k to see how it looked in profile, Tom watched from outside in the hallway and though the door was only open a crack he could see everything. His young house-guest had every right to be proud of such a finely sculpted body. His white bubble-butt, the mounds of his pectoral muscles, covered by neatly trimmed chest hair, and his defined abdominal muscles all bordered on perfection. The poker-stiff c**k between Tom’s legs seemed a fitting tribute to that perfection. His voyeuristic pleasure was further enhanced by the fact Dale had not yet noticed he was being watched. He was completely in his own world, touching himself without inhibition.

Tom began to massage his c**k, squeezing it absent-mindedly. It had only taken seconds for him to become completely absorbed by the young man’s private performance and only a minute for his hand to start sliding up and down his engorged nine-inch c**k. His other hand found its way to a n****e, erect and flushed deep pink. He tweaked it, twisting the tiny nub between his thumb and index finger, pinching it and pulling on it. For a moment he felt guilty. He’d known Dale since the lad was five. There was a seventeen-year age gap between them. So many reasons for him not to be at that door, pleasuring himself at his naked guest’s expense.

But that moment of guilt evaporated like morning dew under the sun.

A body that beautiful deserved to be worshipped. In ancient times it would have been.

And then Dale’s c**k began to harden, rising in a steady, fluid movement until it was parallel to his flat stomach. Tom watched as Dale brushed the palm of his hand along its length, and then taken with a desire to examine another part of himself, he turned so that his back was facing the mirror. Looking over his shoulder he pulled the cheeks of his arse apart, pushing it out slightly so he could better examine the hair-ringed hole. He pulled them further apart, craning his neck so he could better see what only his lovers had ever seen. There was grace in his movements, nothing strained or awkward. He was dancing a private dance, a tribute to the male nude. His touch was sensual and even when his fingers wrapped themselves around the girth of his c**k there was nothing pornographic about it.

Tom’s c**k began leaking. Clear pre-c*m had beaded at the eye of his c**k before spilling out, stretching downwards until it snapped and splattered onto his shins and feet. A good deal more lubricant was inadvertently caught up in the action of his hand stroking his swollen c**k-head and was smeared along the length of his thick shaft. As the dance continued in front of him, the skin of his member was being coated in ever thicker layers of lubricant so that the action of his hand along its length was as smooth and effortless as silk upon silk.

It was fate that the door creaked. In his excitement Tom had accidentally knocked against it. Dale spun around immediately. Tom held his breath. Thinking quickly, he pushed the door open.

“Sorry to burst in on you,” he said with a weak smile. “I was just coming over to see if everything was all right.”

* * * *

Dale’s eyes immediately dropped to his uncle’s swollen c**k. The guys at university had often commented on the size of his massive organ, but Tom’s manhood was far superior in both length and width. It jutted outwards and upwards from a forest of neatly manicured pubic hair like another limb and as it slowly started to soften, the foreskin crept slowly over the glistening tip, capping the perfectly-shaped mushroom head snugly. But he was staring. It had been hard not to. It was by far the most impressive c**k he’d ever seen in the flesh. Then he remembered his own erection and his hands rushed to cover it. His eyes were cast to the floor and he could feel himself blush.

“Hey buddy, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It looks like we’re both a bit excited this evening. Must be a full moon.” Tom laughed; his little joke rupturing the atmosphere of discomfort. “If you’re going live with me, you’re going to have to get used to seeing a few erections. It’s just a natural part of being a man, isn’t it?”

Dale nodded.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Sleep well and for God’s sake don’t give it another thought.” He winked at Dale and disappeared across the hallway.

Only when he heard his uncle’s bedroom door close could Dale move, bounding across the room to push the door shut. For a moment his fingers lingered on the lock. Should he flick the switch? Surely his uncle wouldn’t dream of returning while he was sleeping and even if he did, would that be an entirely bad thing? He slumped against the door. He couldn’t get the image of his uncle’s hard c**k out of his head. It was disturbing how much he wanted to feel Tom’s naked body next to his, to feel those full lips on his own and to feel that massive c**k sliding up inside him. It was taboo. It was sinful. But he wanted it more than anything else in the world right now. He’d wanted it for a long time. Ever since he could remember.

He turned the light off and climbed into bed, his c**k still hard and images of his naked uncle swimming about in his head. His hand slid down his flat stomach to his erection and when he wrapped his fingers around the engorged shaft, he imagined that it was his uncle’s hand that was stroking it. In the darkness he fantasized that he could also feel the solid muscle of his uncle’s body lying next to him beneath the covers and feel the gentle caress of his uncle’s warm breath on the skin at the back of his neck.

His c**k pulsed with blood at the thought, but it had been a long day. Soon his eyelids grew heavy. He gave his c**k a few more tugs, though it was useless. His exhausted body refused to let him continue.

Within five minutes he’d fallen into a deep sleep; a dark place devoid of dreams.