A Weekend With Billy Chapters 3 & 4


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I told Billy to go upstairs and take a shower, but not get dressed. I went up to my own room and took a shower myself. What with the fun we'd had in the garden and the spanking I'd so recently administered, my sex was sopping, and I easily brought myself to a climax before getting myself clean.

I put on a tiny black bra and matching g-string, then took a white blouse and microscopic green miniskirt from the closet. I carried them into Billy's room.

Billy, freshly showered, was sitting on the bed, a towel around his waist. I put my skirt and blouse on the ottoman and brazenly bent over Billy's suitcase. I found a couple of clean thongs, one black, one purple, and a white tanga. I choose the purple thong, along with a pair of white cotton chinos, white short-sleeved shirt and white socks.

I took them over to Billy, stood him up, removed his towel, and began to dress him. Even in its flaccid state, his penis was a delight to behold. I got him to step into the thong and pulled it up, boldly adjusting his penis inside the pouch. Then I put on his white cotton socks. They looked sexy with only the thong for company. Sadly, I got him into his chinos. I was about to pick up his shirt when I noticed something. His chinos had no pockets at the back and, being designed for summer, were unlined. The cotton was generously thin, so that the waistband of his thong showed vaguely through. To a careful eye, it was a dead give-away.

I told him I had a top that would really suit him and returned to my bedroom, hoping that he wouldn't catch a glimpse of his butt in the mirror. Luckily, he sat down on the bed as I left the room. I fetched a white singlet that had belonged to an ex-boyfriend. It was tight and short and Billy, being muscular, had the body for it. I returned with it and slipped it over his head. It didn't quite reach his belly-button.

'Wow! This is cool,' he said.

Little did he know!

Finally, I put my blouse and skirt on in front of him and we went downstairs.

We went into the kitchen. I asked Billy to fill the kettle for some coffee. And yes, as he leaned over the sink, the seat of his trousers was drawn tight across his butt, so that the waistband and the little triangle at the top of the under-strap were both enticingly visible.

'I want to buy you some underwear,' I said.

He straightened up.

'Underwear? Why?'

'Because I love the way you're going to look in it.'

Billy laughed.

'I know a brilliant shop,' I said. 'I'll take you there.'


We took the Tube into town and stepped out into blinding sunlight. 'Thank God!' I thought and fell behind Billy for a moment - and sure enough, the purple waistband was vaguely visible. I took his hand and walked beside him, proud as Punch. After we'd been walking for a minute or so, a woman suddenly rushed past us, stopped, turned to face us, grinned broadly, then rushed off on her way again.

'What the hell's she got to grin about?' Billy asked.

'I can't imagine,' I lied.

I led Billy to a place I know very well. A small store. Downstairs is a women's lingerie boutique, but upstairs, accessed via a separate entrance, specialises in men's underwear. Several men were furtively flicking through the racks, pretending to be more interested in the boxers than the thongs. To my delight, the assistant was a young woman. She can't have been more than about twenty.

I got straight down to business. I knew what I was looking for. First I found some skin-tight, black cotton-and-lycra trunks with very, very, very short legs. Next a dark blue full-backed tanga. A bright yellow three-quarter-backed tanga. A mid green half-backed tanga. A bright red quarter-backed tanga. This I particularly liked, as the back panel was exactly the same size as the pouch, only flat! A dubious turquoise silk thong and - finally - a tiny, tiny red nylon g-string with plain black elastic waistband and under-strap. All of which I bundled into Billy's embarrassed hands.

I thrust him to the pay station, where he coyly deposited the underwear on the counter. The assistant scrutinised each item separately, checking they were all the same size and slowly removing the price tags.

'Just about one of everything,' she finally laughed.

'Ah! Just a minute! That reminds me,' I said, and rushed back to the racks of underwear. I returned to the counter with a lovely little blue and white striped thong.

The assistant raised her eyebrows in interrogation.

'This will be great for spankings,' I explained.

Billy turned crimson.

'Yeah, right,' he said, trying to make it seem like a joke.

I paid and we left the store.

'Why so many?' Billy asked as we descended the stairs.

'You'll see,' I mysteriously replied.

'I'd like to ask you a favour,' I said, as we sat over lunch in my kitchen about an hour later. 'A very big favour, in fact.'

'What is it?' Billy asked.

'It's one of the reasons for all the underwear,' I replied. 'I want you to strip for some friends of mine. Women, of course. In my living room. This afternoon. And not just strip. Give yourself an erection. Show us your butt hole. Shove your finger up it, if you dare. Jerk off. Come. Right in front of us. And enjoy yourself doing it. Can you do that?'


'Oh, and I want to video your performance. If you don't mind. All right?'

Billy was speechless.

'Please!' I begged.

'All right, then,' he said very quietly.

I phoned six friends of mine and invited them round. I told them I had a surprise for them. I knew what they'd be thinking. They'd be thinking I'd invested in another raunchy video which I was desperate to share with them. Some guy stripping and giving himself an erection. Possibly a guy being paddled and caned. They'd been through it so many times before. They'd never guess they were going to see a live show.

Once I'd made all the phone calls, I took Billy upstairs to get dressed. I removed his trousers and thong, but left the singlet and socks in place. I knelt beside him with the bag of new underwear on the floor in front of me. His beautiful prick was inches from my face. First, I got him into the tiny red g-string, then the thong. Next came the quarter-backed, half-backed, three-quarter-backed and full-backed tangas. Finally, the skin-tight trunks. Seven items of underwear, not counting the singlet! The dance of the seven veils came to mind.

'I think we'll have you in your underwear from the start,' I said, 'but come with me for the finishing touch.'

I led Billy to my bedroom. He stared in amazement at the framed magazine photos on the walls - a big round ass, anus exposed, balls and prick hanging down underneath; a guy in a shower with the beginnings of an erection; a close-up of a fully-erect prick; a guy mid jerk-off. Then he noticed the piece de resistance on the back of the door. A life-sized poster or a guy at the moment of climax - head thrown back, nostrils flaring, dick firmly grasped, a stream of semen shooting up from the tip.

I rummaged about in my wardrobe and found an ex-boyfriend's cowboy hat. I planted it firmly on Billy's head. He looked ravishing.

Billy was in the kitchen when the women arrived. I sat them down in the lounge and we talked about this and that. As planned, Billy came in after about five minutes with a tray of coffee. The women fell silent, eyes riveted on his crutch. He took the tray round to each of them in turn.

Judy was the first to speak. 'Is this guy really standing here in his underwear?' she asked.

'And a cowboy hat,' Angela chipped in.

'Not for long,' I replied. 'Meet Billy. Billy's going to entertain us this afternoon. If you don't object, that is.'

The women were too stunned to reply at first, but they eventually murmured their various 'no-nos' and 'not-at-alls'.

Half an hour later, I made Billy, still naked and messy, sit and watch the video with us. His video. The video I'd made of his performance. And what a performance! …Billy stands in his underwear and cowboy hat, dance music playing in the background. He massages his chest and stomach through his singlet. He slips his left hand under his singlet and lifts it up to his chest, exposing his stomach. With his right hand, he massages his stomach, then slowly removes the singlet, which he tosses to the floor. He massages and pinches his nipples. He turns his back to us and fondles his ample butt through his trunks.

He walks right up to Angela and places her hands on his waist. Angela obligingly removes his trunks, revealing the full-backed tanga underneath. Billy fondles himself back and front, squeezing and pinching and stroking through the fabric. He goes up to Judy, who removes the first tanga. She is surprised to discover a second one underneath. Billy turns round to show off his three-quarter back, then struts around the room. He walks up to Helen, who briskly pulls down the second tanga. The third is revealed, and everyone laughs and complains. They laugh and complain even more when the fourth comes into view.

Billy turns round and the room falls silent. The quarter-backed tanga looks fantastic, pulling tightly against his ass. Most of his swelling butt cheeks are deliciously exposed, together with the top of his cleavage. Billy faces us and fondles his prick through the fabric. A tell-tale bulge appears. He goes up to Polly, who makes to remove the tanga, but is checked. Billy turns round, straddles Polly's lap and bends down. His ass is inches from her nose. She places one palm on each buttock and kneads. Billy stands up and turns round again. He straddles her left leg and begins to squat down. He presses his bulge against her left knee-cap and brazenly fucks her knee.

He stands up, the bulge now more prominent, and walks up to Judy. He presses the bulge against her nose. She giggles and squeals in excitement, and grasps his buttocks in her hands. Billy goes up to Jennifer, straddles her lap and pushes his bulge between her breasts. He squeezes her breasts through her T-shirt and thrusts between them with his bulge. He goes up to Angela and raises her up. He bends her over her chair and lifts up her miniskirt.

The tiny black back of her panties is revealed. Billy places his hands on Angela hips, thrusts forward, and fucks her butt cleft with his bulge. Again and again he thrusts, forcing the thin fabric of her panties between her cheeks. Slowly, lasciviously, he rubs his bulge up and down her butt cleft and prods firmly where the fabric nestles against her anus. Angela groans with pleasure.

Billy returns to Polly, turns his back on her, straddles her legs and bends down once more. This time Polly goes wild. She grabs Billy's waistband and yanks it up his back. The tiny triangle that purports to cover his rear disappears between his ass cheeks. And now Polly is lapping away at his ass and darting her tongue into his butt cleft. Billy gasps with pleasure for thirty seconds or so, then stands up. He deftly retrieves the tanga back from between his butt cheeks and restores it to its rightful position. It is clearly damp.

He moves over to Jean and places her hands on his waistband. Jean, a colleague of mine more than old enough to be Billy's mother, surprises him by pulling him over her lap and proceeding to spank him very hard. Her hand rains down on the tiny triangle of fabric and the naked acres of his buttocks, which rapidly turn pink. Billy wriggles about, but Jean continues to spank him for about a minute. Forcefully, she makes him stand up and yanks down his tanga, revealing the silk thong beneath. She forces him, tanga round his ankles, back over her lap and spanks his bare buttocks even more wildly. The other women whoop in appreciation. Billy's ass is now dark red.

Finally released, Billy moves to the centre of the room. He grasps the waistband of his thong. The women stare in anticipation. Billy lowers his thong, and sure enough, there is the tiny red g-string. The women groan, but their disappointment is short-lived. Billy has produced a prodigious amount of pre-cum, and the nylon around the tip of his penis is soaked.

He thrusts his hips back and forth, his penis straining against his pouch. He goes up to each of the women in turn and jabs his pouch against their noses. They giggle and wipe away the pre-cum with the backs of their hands. He returns to the centre of the room and turns his back to us. He plants his feet wide apart and bends down. Compared with his reddened buttocks, the skin inside his bum cleft is very white, and compared with that, the thin elastic under-strap is very black indeed.

'Look at his anus!' Judy gasps.

And sure enough, on either side of the barely-there under-strap, the dark red puckered flesh of his anus is revealed. Jean stands up and walks up to him. Billy, clearly wondering what's likely to happen next, makes to stand up too, but Jean won't let him. She yanks his waistband far up his back so that the under-strap tickles and massages his butt cleft and pulls into his hole. Billy snorts. Jean digs her thumbs into his ass cheeks very close to his anus and pulls them wide apart. His asshole clearly opens before our eyes. Jean calls on Angela to help her.

'Pull his waistband up,' she says.

Angela does so.

'As far it will stretch, front and back,' Jean adds.

Angela does as she's told. Billy's prick and balls are pulled cruelly against his body, and the under-strap of his g-string cuts sharply into his hole. Of course I zoom in very close, and the image on the TV screen is truly awesome. Jean releases and reapplies the pressure on her thumbs and Billy's anus closes and opens rhythmically like a fish mouth, devouring the under-strap.

When Billy is finally released, he stands in the centre of the room. Slowly, he lowers his g-string. His hard shaft is gradually revealed. Finally, his penis jerks free. The women cheer. Billy's glans is glistening with pre-cum. He squeezes the head of his penis and yet more pre-cum weeps from the tip. It is fascinating to watch. Billy milks more and more of the stuff and massages it into his glans and shaft. When his penis is incredibly hard and glistening, he squeezes more pre-cum onto his fingertips and brazenly laps it up. He walks up to each of the women in turn and thrusts his rock hard penis under their noses. The scent of sex is in the air.

Billy strikes a number of poses for us. He gets down on all fours and lowers his chest to the floor, his knees wide apart. We see his anus and balls between his legs. He pushes his hard shaft down and we see that too, the helmet purple and glistening. He pulls his butt cheeks wide apart and opens his anus slightly.

He gets up and raises Jean, Angela and Judy from the sofa. He lies on the sofa on his back and slowly masturbates. After a couple of minutes he lies on his side and masturbates some more. Then he lies on his stomach and massages his ass. He kneads and strokes and pinches. When he sits up again, we notice a little pool of pre-cum on the sofa. Fortunately, it is leather, and Jean wipes it up with a tissue.

Billy sits and allows his erection to subside somewhat. This is extremely enjoyable to watch, because it takes a considerable time. He then gets up, and rather to our surprise walks up to the television. He stands with his back to us, feet wide apart. We crouch low to get the best possible view of his prick and balls below his buttocks. He presses his prick against the TV screen and moves it about. It is soon very hard again, but forced to point straight down. The screen becomes smeared with pre-cum.

Again he walks up to each of the women, and wipes his bursting, soaking helmet against their cheeks. He kneads and pinches his helmet, tapping and pinching the ridges and cleft. His neck and cheeks are flushed and his breathing is deep and slow. He fondles and pleasures his shaven balls.

Finally, he lies on the floor and masturbates in earnest. He calls Polly to his side and gets her to suck on the fingers of his left hand. She does so with evident pleasure as she watches him jerk off. Saliva drools from her mouth and runs down his fingers.

Billy gets Polly to kneel behind his head. He raises his knees to his shoulders and gets Polly to hold them there. His anus is fully revealed. Still pulling his rod with his right hand, he lowers his left hand to his ass. He extends his middle finger and taps at his sphincter with it. He moans with pleasure. With all the women crowding round in disbelief, he slowly inserts his finger into his anus. Slowly, oh so slowly, it advances, and his sphincter stretches and sucks. Finally, he has inserted his finger right up to the knuckle.

He leaves it there and continues to masturbate. Then he begins to fuck his anus rhythmically with his finger. He does this for a minute, and the women get down on the floor and take it in turns to get the closest possible view. Then, still fucking his anus, Billy begins to jerk off more quickly. Faster and faster he masturbates until his back is arched with ecstasy. He moans with pleasure. Uuh! Uuh! Mm! Nn! Nn! Mm! Mm! And then, with a glorious grunt, he comes. Prodigiously. His semen gushes out in jet after jet. The first hits him right in the face, just under his nose. The next hits his neck. The next his chest. And so on, down to his stomach. Finally, the last few drops trickle down his glans and shaft and nestle in his pubic hair.

He lies back down on the floor and slowly removes his finger from his anus. We watch mesmerised as his erection slowly subsides until his penis flops wetly against his thigh. To our unutterable delight, he licks the semen from under his nose and gallantly swallows it down. He asks for a tissue, but we won't give him one…

I stopped the video. Everyone looked at Billy to see how he had taken his exposure. The guy was semi-erect! He'd enjoyed every damn minute of it! And what a gloriously messy picture he presented, drying semen still adorning his neck and chest, his stomach and pubic hair, his thigh.

'Well!' said Jean. 'You are a wicked boy! I've never seen such lascivious depravity. Masturbating to completion in front of, what, seven women! Brazenly probing your anus! And allowing yourself to be videoed doing it! Unbelievable! You must be soundly spanked, my boy!

I quickly inserted a new tape in the video camera and pressed 'record'.

Jean pulled Billy up from his chair. She found the quarter-backed tanga on the floor. It was evidently her favourite. She made him step into it and pulled it up around his waist. She sat on a dining chair.

'Now get yourself across my knees,' she said.

Billy looked at the sperm on his chest and stomach.

'Never mind that,' barked Jean. 'Just get yourself over my knees.'

Billy lowered himself into position.

Jean gently stroked his buttocks for a moment as we all stared at the tiny triangle of fabric that barely covered his crack. Indeed, an ample cleavage was revealed. Jean raised her hand and paused. She waited a good ten seconds and then brought her hand down with a resounding smack. She paused again, then smacked again, equally hard. She spanked him slowly like this about twelve times, then spanked him at least twenty times very hard and very fast. She rested for a few seconds, then administered another twenty fast smacks. Billy's buttocks wriggled and writhed, already bright pink. Now she spanked the bare parts of his buttocks, now the tiny triangle of fabric, now the backs of his thighs. The sound was deafening. Billy gasped and gasped. Finally, Jean was exhausted.

'Get up,' she barked.

He did so. Jean got up too and walked over to one of the armchairs. She turned it round.

'Now bend over the back of this,' she bawled.

Billy hesitated.

'Do you dare to hesitate?' Jean asked, and spanked him hard again as he stood there.

Billy walked over to the armchair and bent over it.

'Angela!' barked Jean. 'Spank him long and spank him hard.'

Angela eagerly shot over to the armchair and immediately started spanking Billy. His buttocks were soon the deepest red. She must have spanked him fifty times in short sharp bursts. Finally, she too was worn out.

Jean walked up to Billy and pulled the waistband of his tanga high up his sides. The triangle of fabric disappeared into his butt cleft. Jean pulled the waistband still higher until the fabric cut into Billy's anus and flattened his balls. He groaned.

'Now everybody take it in turns,' said Jean, still holding the waistband in position.

And everybody did take turns. Except me, of course. But then, I'd already had the pleasure. Poor old Billy. He took one hell of a spanking. By the time the girls had finished with him, his buttocks were practically purple.

When he was finally released, he stood up, adjusted his tanga, and turned to face us. The bulge in his tanga pouch was enormous. The guy was something else.


A Weekend With Billy Ch. 4

After the women had left and Billy had showered and changed, the two of us sat drinking coffee in my living-room. Something was on my mind.

'Did they spank you too hard?' I suddenly asked.

'No, no,' Billy answered. 'I enjoyed it.'

'But didn't it hurt?'

'Of course it did. Even so, I really enjoyed it.'

'So did we. Do you often get spanked?'

'No. I've often fantasised about it, but yesterday and today were my first experiences.'

'Maybe we can arrange for some more sometime.' I said.

Billy looked at me. 'I hope so,' he said softly.

'Changing the subject, do you fancy going to a club tonight?' I asked.

'Yeah. Good idea.'

We got to the club at about eight thirty and sat at one of the tables at the front next to the dance floor. The room was dimly lit. Even so, Billy soon realised it was practically full of women. Apart from himself, there were only three men to be seen. As for the women, there were about fifty of us.

'This is a bit odd,' Billy commented.

'What do you mean?' I innocently asked.

'The place is full of women.'

'Well, of course it is.' I said. 'It's a strip club for women. I thought I told you.'

'You bloody well didn't!' Billy exclaimed. 'I don't want to watch a load of men getting their kit off.'

'You won't have to. It's Saturday night.'

'I don't get the connection,' Billy said.

'Saturday night is amateur night. You're the one who'll be getting his kit off. Well, along with the three other guys.'

'You're kidding, right?' Billy asked.

Before I had time to answer, a woman appeared at our table. She was holding a white plastic carrier bag.

'Hi! Thanks for coming,' she said to Billy. 'I'm Sadie. I'll be helping you get ready.'

And with that, she plonked the plastic bag on the table.

'This is your stuff,' she explained. 'If you'll just follow me, I'll take you to your dressing-room.'

Billy frowned at me for a moment and looked as if he was about to speak, but his features suddenly resolved themselves into a grin. He was getting turned on by the idea. Mr Innocent never ceased to amaze.

Billy followed his assistant through a door that lead from the dance floor 'backstage'. Three more assistants lead the other three guys out and an air of expectation fell on the room.

A few minutes later, the first guy came out on stage. The dance floor was suddenly bathed in bright light. Music began to play. I noticed that a twelve-foot ladder had been placed against the wall behind the dance floor. It almost reached the ceiling, which was far from high. To the right of the ladder, an enormous flat-screened TV flickered into life. We could see the guy on that too, live. I turned round and noticed three video cameras at various points around the room. They were being operated by female members of staff, and they were all trained on the stage.

The guy stood lost for a moment in the middle of the stage. He was dressed as a construction worker - yellow hard-hat, white T-shirt, denim cut-offs and boots. He had one of those construction worker's tool-belts round his waist, from which hammers, screwdrivers and spanners dangled precariously. I couldn't help thinking it would be difficult to perform with all that lot swinging about.

The guy turned round and walked up to the ladder. He started to climb it. His cut-offs had been cut incredibly short at the back, so that the beginnings of his butt-cheeks were revealed below the soft blue fabric. He advanced towards the top of the ladder, stopped, stuck his butt out, and play-acted fixing something on the wall with a hammer.

He looked gorgeous. His butt was pert and taut, his shoulder and arm muscles well developed. He was clearly a man who worked out. The TV screen afforded us a close-up of that delectable ass as it twisted a little from side to side.

This dumb-show went on for about thirty seconds, and then the guy retreated down the ladder. His butt swung about even more deliciously as he did so.

He faced the audience and advanced to the centre of the stage. Here, he thrust his hips to one side and raised his T-shirt above his head. His chest was firm, muscular and clean-shaven. The thought of seeing him naked set my pulse racing. He removed his T-shirt completely and tossed it into the audience. A number of women cheered. He removed something from his tool-belt. It turned out to be a can of cola. He opened it, raised it to his lips, tilted his head back and, in a glorious parody of the TV commercial, took a great swig of cola. The audience laughed and applauded.

It was then that his problems started. He placed the can of cola on the floor beside him and proceeded to undo his tool-belt. Perhaps the weight of the thing took him by surprise. Whatever the reason, it slipped from his grasp and went clattering to the floor. Tools bounced out of the belt and scattered around him. The can of cola was upended and the dark liquid spilt out onto the stage. He quickly bent down and set the can upright again.

Next he tried to undo his cut-offs, but the zipper got caught. He struggled with the thing for ages before finally wrenching it down with unseemly force. It was hard not to giggle.

He opened the flaps of his cut-offs and the black pouch of his underwear was revealed. The TV screen treated us to another close-up. He turned round and slowly lowered his cut-offs, exposing the black waistband and under-strap of his thong. Then he turned to the front again and deftly kicked his cut-offs into the audience.

Things went reasonably well for a while after that. He danced provocatively for us, now shaking his hips from side to side, now placing his hands behind his head and aiming pelvic thrusts at us. Sometimes he turned his back on us, wriggled his butt about and bent over. It wasn't exactly professional stuff, but not at all bad for an amateur.

And then disaster struck. He faced us and began to advance towards the front of the stage. As his did so, he stubbed his toe against a wrench, which went slithering across the stage. It must have hurt, because he involuntarily raised his right foot and clutched his toe in his right hand. Needless to say, this caused him to hop about the stage, as a result of which he pretty soon landed on the head of the hammer. He must have landed on the part designed for removing nails, because the pain was great enough to cause him to cry out.

He'd clearly had enough by this time. Once he'd righted himself on his feet again, he somewhat unceremoniously removed his thong, gave us a quick glimpse of flaccid dick, and retired from the stage with a limp. That was it!

Of course, we all felt sorry for the guy and gave him a good round of applause, but it wasn't exactly a triumphant start to the show.

The lights went down on the stage and the ladder was removed. Then the second guy entered and the lights went up again.

He was dressed as a soccer player, but we hardly had time to register the fact, his striptease was so rushed. I guess he was nervous and wanted to get things over quickly. Within seconds his top was off and a few seconds later he was removing his shorts. He attempted a kind of dance in his white sports thong, but it wasn't very arousing.

Soon the thong too was dispensed with and the audience cheered as his prick was exposed to their eyes. He had the very beginnings of an erection. Perhaps the enthusiasm of the audience got him going because he became quite daring for a time. He pulled back his foreskin and made powerful pelvic thrusts so that his shaft swung up and down. He then twisted his hips about so that his dick swung from side to side. His helmet repeatedly crashed into the tops of his thighs. Not surprisingly, he was soon completely erect.

The audience went wild. This was what they wanted to see. In response to their appreciation, the guy came right up to the front of the stage. He slowly walked to the right hand end of the stage and then slowly crossed from there to the left hand end so that everyone could get a decent view of his hard-on. My panties became moist as I happily anticipated what he might do next.

But alas, that was as far as he was prepared to go. He returned to the centre of the stage, faced the audience, bowed a couple of times then hurriedly walked off.

For the short interval that followed this 'performance', the stage lights were dimmed once more. A couple of shadowy figures appeared with what looked like a pair of stepladders. They seemed to fix something to the ceiling, then hauled the ladders off stage. Then a man entered and the lights went up.

It was Billy. I must admit, his appearance was somewhat ridiculous. He was wearing the figure-hugging white tights favoured by some acrobats, together with what looked like a white T-shirt. The reason for this instantly became apparent. I looked across to the left hand side of the stage and saw that a trapeze had been suspended from two hooks in the ceiling.

Billy must have found the thing almost as comical as I did, because he looked at it ironically for a moment before walking across to it. He hoisted himself up and sat on the crossbar quite easily, his feet only a foot or so above the ground. He then managed to stand on the crossbar and swing the trapeze backwards and forwards. Each time he pulled back on the wires he was forced to thrust his hips forward somewhat and the bulge of his sex was clearly visible beneath his tights. Billy the male ballet dancer! What next?

Billy turned round and faced the other way. Male ballet dancer indeed! His tights plunged revealingly between his buttocks so that the outline and contours of his crack were clearly defined. Half close your eyes and you'd have thought that he was naked.

Billy swung about for thirty seconds or so then dropped to the floor. He walked centre stage and stood with his back to us, his feet planted slightly apart. He outrageously stuck his butt out and wiggled it about a la Jagger. Then, slowly, he lowered his tights.

The T-shirt turned out to be a thong-backed leotard. As Billy lifted first his right knee then his left to step out of his tights, we feasted our eyes on the white under-strap that pulled so tightly between his butt-cheeks. He turned to face us. My, my, it was tight. His prick and balls were visibly being crushed beneath the fabric.

Billy came up to the front of the stage and stepped out into the audience. He walked up to a woman a few tables from mine, took her hand and led her onto the stage. The audience cheered loudly, as it dawned on them that Billy was a 'sport'. He was going to go further than the other guys. It was obvious.

Billy wrapped his arms round the woman and encouraged her to fondle his buttocks. It didn't take much effort on his part. She eagerly grabbed his buns and started kneading them. Then she broke free and whispered something in Billy's ear. Billy instantly set his feet apart and bent down.

The woman eagerly investigated his ass. First she stroked and kneaded and pinched his buttocks. Then she pulled his butt-cheeks apart and checked out his under-strap. It was ample in width and sadly concealed his anus. Even so, she placed the tips of her third and fourth fingers firmly against the area between Billy's balls and butt-hole. Then she drew her fingers right up the length of his crack, still pressing firmly. She continued this cleft massage for some time before standing Billy up and turning him to face the audience. She stood behind him and reached round to his crotch. She cupped his prick and balls in her palm and squeezed. She fondled and fingered him lasciviously through the fabric.

After a couple of minutes of this treatment, Billy bundled the woman off the stage and back to her seat. He stood at the front of the stage, facing the audience. With his right hand, he firmly grasped the left hand side of his leotard near the neck and pulled it over his left shoulder. It must have been incredibly elastic, because it stretched easily. More interestingly, it revealed a black leather shoulder-strap. Billy wrestled his left arm free of the leotard and then repeated the manoeuvre with his right arm. He pulled the leotard down his sides, revealing more and more of the two thin leather shoulder-straps beneath.

Finally, he slid the leotard down his thighs, and sure enough, he was wearing a leather suspender thong. He stepped out of the leotard and turned round to confirm the point. The audience applauded when confronted with his bare ass once more.

Billy bent down. The shoulder-straps pulled tighter and tighter, drawing the under-strap up with them. It was obvious that Billy was being cut in half.

He stood up and walked over to the trapeze. He pulled himself up and sat on it, facing the audience. A thought had evidently occurred to him. He lifted his legs up straight out in front of him then opened them as far as they would go. He shifted backwards until the crossbar was positioned beneath the backs of his knees. He then bent his knees and at the same time lowered his butt below the crossbar. He spread his legs until the sides of his knees were touching the side wires of the trapeze, then lowered his hands and grabbed the crossbar between his knees. His butt-cheeks were completely spread. Above them, his cock and balls bulged in their cruel leather pouch. We could see the entire length of the under-strap as it plunged from that pouch and ran down between Billy's cheeks.

Instinctively, I looked up at the TV screen, and yes, there it was in close-up. Billy's delicious ass on a gigantic scale, crowned by that bulging pouch. Whoever was operating the camera must have been wondering about something, because she slowly zoomed in closer and closer on the area around Billy's anus. The under-strap was deliciously narrow, so that the dark red puckered skin of his sphincter was clearly revealed. But that wasn't all. The under-strap was pulled so tight that Billy's butt-hole had given up the struggle and opened up slightly. The leather was actually on a level with the puckered skin, and the lips of Billy's anus were sort of nibbling on it.

Billy blatantly tilted his head back so that he could check out the image, upside-down, on the screen. Outrageously, he clenched and unclenched his sphincter. Several women in the audience whooped.

Somehow, Billy got himself off the trapeze and came to the front of the stage. He pointed to his suspender thong and raised his shoulders interrogatively. At the same time, his face took on a questioning expression. What a tease! Instantly, the audience started chanting loudly: 'Off! Off! Off! Off! Off!…'

Billy slipped the straps from his shoulders like a woman removing her bra. They fell and dangled beside his thighs. He grasped the front of his pouch and slowly lowered it, finally revealing his prick and balls. The audience cheered. Billy stepped from the suspender thong and grabbed his dick. He was already semi-erect, and after a few gentle strokes and squeezes he was proudly standing to attention.

Again, he stepped into the audience, this time walking up to the table next to mine. Once more, he grabbed a woman by the hand, who excitedly followed him onto the stage. She kept him near the audience and turned him sideways on. She forced him to bend over and spread his legs. She knelt behind him and pulled his butt-cheeks wide apart. She put her mouth close to the base of his crack.

Billy suddenly shot forward. She must have licked his butt-hole and taken him by surprise. Firmly, she pulled him back again and reapplied her mouth to his ass. It was frustrating. We couldn't see a thing.

Possibly guessing our predicament, the woman got up and led Billy back to her table, which was rapidly cleared of wineglasses. She sat Billy on the table, facing away from the stage. She then pulled him back until he was lying down. Amazingly, she got her friend and a woman from another table to lift and pin Billy's knees either side of his shoulders. His anus winked up at me. His prick pointed stiffly at his belly-button. His balls were spread.

One of the camerawomen hastily changed her position so that she could get an unimpeded close-up. Billy's ass filled the TV screen once more. Even so, I only glanced at it. Since Billy was lying on the table next to mine, I could see everything.

The woman stood on a chair and raised her skirt. She was wearing a tiny black tanga. She placed her knees either side of Billy's on the table and lowered her butt onto his face. She rubbed her sex through the fabric against his nose. Then she bent forward, grabbed his butt and started licking his asshole with the back of her tongue. Billy writhed about. The woman licked faster. A pool of saliva gathered on Billy's anus beneath her tongue. It made a sort of clicking sound as she licked.

After a minute or so, the woman hauled herself off the table. She made Billy stand up. His erection was rock solid and pre-cum oozed from the eye of his glans.

The woman lay down on the table, head towards the audience. She told Billy to kneel on the table so that his ass was above her head. He did so. She forced his knees wide apart and pulled his butt towards her face. She placed her thumbs on his butt-cheeks, very close to his asshole. She dug in her thumbs and pulled his ass-cheeks wide apart. Brazenly, she stuck out her tongue. It was long and pointed and hard. She ordered Billy to bounce up and down on her tongue.

The camerawoman lay on the floor so that she could capture the scene from below. We all gazed at the screen, including Billy. Gently, he lowered his ass until it met the waiting tongue. He did this several times then, once he'd got the hang of the distance involved, started rhythmically jabbing his anus against the tongue. After a while, he paused, slowly lowered his ass again, and pressed his butt-hole quite forcefully against the tongue.

The woman went wild. She flicked her tongue across Billy's anus about fifty times, really lashing him, then thrust harder than ever at his hole. Billy lowered himself still further and the tip of the woman's tongue finally wormed its way inside him.

Suddenly, the woman let out a kind of keening moan and her legs started dancing about. The audience applauded.

Billy waited for her orgasm to subside, then climbed off her. He walked up to another table and guided a third woman to the stage. She too, like the woman before her, got Billy to stand sideways on to the audience, but she knelt in front of him rather than behind him.

She held on to the back of his thighs and started licking his balls. Then she licked her way slowly up his shaft until she reached his helmet. I looked at the close-up of Billy's prick on the TV screen. The woman's hand squeezed, and a prodigious quantity of pre-cum wept from his eye. The woman licked it up, then squeezed to produce some more. She repeated this several times before transferring her attention to the ridges of Billy's helmet. These she licked and kissed and licked again. Then she placed the tip of her tongue against that incredibly sensitive point just beneath the eye and licked forcefully in little circles.

When the woman took Billy's helmet into her mouth, Billy threw his head back and groaned. He placed his palms on the back of the woman's head and pulled her further onto his dick. The woman responded eagerly, sucking and slurping and fucking Billy's prick with her mouth. 'Mm! Mm! Mm!' she moaned.

She gave Billy a long, slow blow-job, sucking and licking his helmet and mouth-fucking his shaft by turns. Five minutes must have passed, then Billy suddenly pushed the woman's head away. She got up, turned Billy to face the audience, then stood behind him. She waited for his excitement to subside a little, then reached round and grabbed his prick in her hand.

Now she squeezed and pinched his glans. Now she massaged his balls. Sometimes she jerked him off with her thumb and forefinger. Sometimes she jerked him off with her whole fist. One minute, she pumped slowly, slowly, slowly. The next minute, her hand was a blur. Occasionally, Billy grasped her wrist to stop her. He wanted to prolong his enjoyment and ours.

To think of it! He'd only arrived in London the night before, and now he was allowing himself to be given a hand-job by a total stranger in front of an audience of baying women.

Finally, he let the total stranger pump him as much as she liked as he surrendered to his needs.

'Oh, yes! Oh, yes!' he roared. 'Do it! Do it! Fuck! Do it! Do it!'

The woman's hand pumped him wildly for a couple of minutes and then Billy reached the point of no return.

'Aargh! Aargh! Fuck! Yes! Nn! Nn! Uuurrgh!'

And with that final grunt, a long arc of semen shot from Billy's penis and splattered across one of the tables in the first row. A second spurt shot an equal distance and landed on a woman's blouse. Further streams gushed from his helmet as the woman on stage continued to milk him dry.

Billy moaned and grunted. Finally, he was spent. The women in the audience got to their feet and cheered and applauded loudly. Billy sank down exhausted and sat on the stage, wiping his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. We watched his erection slowly subside. As it did so, a few last drops of semen dribbled from his tip and dripped onto the stage.

Again, the audience cheered and clapped when Billy finally dragged himself back to his dressing-room. In no time, they were stomping. Some women started yelling for more.

But they were to be disappointed. The lights went down, and we all sat waiting for the final performer, expectations high. Alas, he didn't appear. We waited and waited, but still nothing happened.

Finally, the woman who runs the club came up to us with an explanation. Although the fourth man hadn't seen Billy's performance, he must have heard the audience reaction and guessed the sort of things that were happening. Clearly terrified, he was last seen slipping out of the fire exit and disappearing into the night.