Chapter 65.
The ride was uneventful. They had received a certain amount of attention, mainly from car drivers as they stopped at traffic lights. The vibration of the bike and the pressure of Clare’s back had brought Bobby’s unruly member to a state of full tumescence. As they entered the house they could hear the sound of loud chattering and laughter from the kitchen.
“Sounds like they’ve had a few drinks already,” murmured Clare.
Bobby frowned and hung back. She grinned, took his hand and pulled him through the house to the kitchen.
“Hope you’ve all got your best boots on, ladies,” she announced. Bobby the boot boy’s here!” And she pushed him into the centre of the kitchen.
There was a moment’s stunned silence as Wendy’s friends took in the vision before them. They were all in their mid to late thirties, and looked the type who knew how to have fun. They had been unable to get much out of Wendy about the new servant, whose gender she had described as “flexible”. But now things were clearer. He stood in their midst, reddening, hands clasped modestly over his taut latex pants, staring at the floor.
“Ladies, meet Bobby,” grinned Clare. “He’s our little treat for you. As well as our live-in housemaid, he’s a fully-trained boot boy, and his only function today will be attending to your boots, cleaning and polishing them until they shine. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”
Silence.
“Bobby?”
“Y-yes, miss Clare…”
“There, see? He’s a little shy just now, so don’t tease him too much yet.”
“Clare, darling, you’ve met Cindy here and Donna, and this is Georgie from my work. Georgie, Clare.”
“Hi Georgie. Hi, girls.”
Georgie was short, with black hair, and almost black laughing eyes. She wore a white blouse, black pleated skirt, black tights and ankle boots.
“Hi Clare…” she said, not taking her eyes off Bobby for a second. “Wow! He’s a sweetie, all right. Where on earth…? And that little outfit! Those pants… Latex, right?”
“His aunt supplies all his outfits. She’s an expert.”
Donna was giggling. She has mousey hair, and wore a short, sparkly, figure-hugging green dress and thigh boots with stiletto heels. She had obviously taken the boot advice to heart. “Bobby?” she said cheekily. “Are you going to say hello? Put your hands down, darling, and let us have a good look at those cute little panties. There…good boy… Goodness…”
Bobby had reluctantly unclasped and lowered his hands. He felt terribly conspicuous, not least because he was the tallest person in the room. As usual when he was wearing his rubber boot boy shorts, his erection refused to subside, despite his acute embarrassment. His cheeks were burning. He bit his lower lip and kept his eyes lowered. He could see the long bulge of his swollen member lying diagonally across his tummy, the fine latex stretched taut over it – and in the ensuing silence he could feel every eye in the room feasting on the sight. Finally Wendy broke the silence.
“Well, ladies, I should start preparing lunch. Clare, maybe show them into the lounge? Bobby might as well get started, don’t you think? Don’t forget your kit, darling.”
“Yes, mum. I’ll be back to help in a minute.”
She ushered the women out of the kitchen. Bobby hesitated.
“Come along, Bobby. Time to do your stuff.”
Once in the lounge the women seated themselves, Georgie in an armchair and Cindy and Donna on the sofa.
“I’ll bring you some drinks,” said Clare. “Was it G and Ts all round?”
Donna gave her a thumbs up, and she disappeared, leaving Bobby standing awkwardly on the carpet holding his little case. He went to open it, but Georgie stopped him.
“Just stay there a minute young man. I think it would be nice if we get to know you a little first of all.” She smiled a mischievous smile. She hadn’t finished admiring him, or enjoying his obvious embarrassment. Cindy and Donna nodded in eager agreement.
Bobby himself was desperate to kneel or sit, to make his plight less obvious, whilst the object of his self-consciousness seemed to have a mind of its own, and to be revelling in the attention. He stood there, shifting from one foot to the other, unsure of whether to put his case down or continue to hold it. In the end he put it down, and stood there pretending to be at ease, but not knowing what to do with his hands. He felt like an overgrown child who had been caught doing something naughty, and was now being interrogated about it. He assumed what he thought was a goody-goody expression – which only made him look more silly – and held onto the frills of his shorts in an unconscious desire to make the legs longer than they were.
“So, Bobby…” Georgie began. “How come you chose to become a boot boy?” She suppressed a snigger. “Did you do a course?” She looked at him with assumed innocence. She was the smallest of the three guests, with rumpled black hair, wearing a short pleated skirt, and little soft ankle boots.
He felt he was being mocked, and though he was in no position to take offence, he was not going to let them put him down.
“Actually my aunt trained me,” he replied, a little haughtily. “She knows pretty much everything about leather and” - he was going to say “rubber”, but he thought better of it - “er, other materials…”
“Ooh, that’s your aunt who got you that uniform, right?” interrupted Donna.
“Er…yeah….”
“You’re lucky to have an aunt like that,” remarked Cindy, with a friendly smile. “In general aunt’s have a poor reputation, don’t you think?”
There was something motherly about that smile that appealed to him. She had soft brown eyes and full lips. Her outfit was anything but motherly, however: a short, expensive-looking leather jacket worn over a tight red jumper, emphasizing her breasts, black faux-leather leggings and well-fitting vinyl boots just over the knee. Whatever it was about her, the words came tumbling out.
“I guess…but she’s really cool, and cos my mum has to work and travel abroad a lot she looks after me most of the time… That’s to say, I live in her house mainly, but I move around quite a bit – like at the moment I’m helping out Clare – I mean miss – and I do a lot of stuff for my aunt’s friends, like Lavinia and Nicole, and…”
“You sound very busy, Bobby. Wendy tells me you’re even helping out at the riding stables at the moment. What do you do there?”
Bobby fidgeted uneasily. “Oh, er, you know…just, like, general stuff…”
“Well, I expect they must have lots and lots of riding boots that need cleaning…”
“Oh…yeah, that’s right. Yeah, I’m gonna apply for a job there in the summer…”
Clare came back with the drinks on a tray. She put them down on the coffee-table.
“Don’t you already have a job, Bobby? Won’t you be helping out with the dressage in the autumn?”
Bobby froze. He looked at her pleadingly.
“Oh, you’re talking about applying to be the stable boot boy! Yes, Lavinia mentioned that. I’m sure Miss Poole will jump at the idea. Miss Poole’s the owner, Cindy.”
“Oh, I see. Well she should, definitely. Will you wear your uniform, dear? It would be perfect, I would have thought. If your shorts get muddy it’ll just wipe off. Though you’d have to be careful not to snag them… They’d probably burst! That would be a disaster!”
Everyone laughed. Everyone except Bobby. Not funny! He blushed again at the thought, and tugged at the legs of his shorts, which felt as if they were riding up. His disorderly boyhood, like a child that seeks attention by making a mess of its room, had for some minutes been leaking onto his tummy, and now the leg bands were slick with its juices, so that despite his efforts to pull them down they simply slid up again, revealing glistening thighs. He was beginning to panic. Clare grasped the opportunity.
“Oh, no, Cindy. This latex is actually quite durable. Here, feel for yourself.”
And putting her hands on Bobby shoulders, she pushed him forward till he was standing right in front of her. Donna, sitting beside her, presented with a close-up view of the firm, sausage-shaped bulge in Bobby’s pants, put a hand to her mouth, her eyes big with delight. Both women were enveloped in the scent of warm latex. Cindy, quickly recovering from her surprise, took Clare at her word, hesitated, lifted her hand and took the frilling around Bobby’s left leg between finger and thumb. It felt slightly slimy, but she persevered, and gave it a gentle tug. At once a little stream of clear juice trickled out and made its way stickily down Bobby’s thigh.
“Oh! Er…” was all she managed to say, as she let the frilling slip from her fingers and snap back onto his flesh. Donna’s mouth fell open. She looked from the trickle of juice to Bobby’s burning cheeks and back again. Seeing it was about to reach the top of his sock, she thoughtfully took a tissue from her bag, arrested its progress, then wiped his leg. She smiled and shook her head.
“Boys will be boys. Clare, I think Bobby is a little too, er, overwrought, to start on our boots right now. I think we should perhaps, help him out a little.”
Without waiting for a reply, she stood up, took him by the shoulders, and turned him through one hundred and eighty degrees, then pushed him gentle down onto the sofa. She sat down next to him, put an arm around him, and without further ado, placed her hand on the soft bulge of his balls.
“Cindy? Will you help?”
Cindy, emboldened, smile. “Of course. Now Bobby, just relax and enjoy, darling…”
She slid her hand over the straining latex and closed her fingers softly on the shaft, which was lying flat against his tummy on her side of the seam. She gasped.
“Gosh… So hard…and so hot…”
Clare seated herself on the arm of the sofa next to Cindy, from where she had a good view. Georgie climbed out of her armchair and sat on the other arm.
“It just needs a little love…” murmured Donna, caressing his balls. Bobby’s head fell back and he closed his eyes.
Cindy began massaging gently, rolling it back and forth with the palm of her hand, making Bobby moan with pleasure. Then she carefully slid it over till it was vertical, the head just below the waistband of his shorts, so that the slightly thicker centre seam fitted neatly into the cleft in the glans. Then all she had to do was to wrap her fingers around the shaft while using the long scarlet nail of her index finger to scratch at and probe the trapped cleft. The inevitable explosion was not long coming. Bobby cried out, arched his back, and gripped the women’s thighs.
“Woops!” said Cindy, with mock surprise. But she kept massaging that sensitive spot, and a moment later, to the accompaniment of Bobby’s moans and sobs, the c-um was pumping from the tip of his coc-k, so powerfully that it spurted out from the waistband onto his vest and his bare midriff, and all over the front of his shorts and Cindy’s and Donna’s hands.
As his climax slowly subsided, leaving him slumped and gasping, the audience gave the protagonists a little round of applause. Wendy had appeared at the door.
“Whatever is going on in here?”
“Nothing mum – just giving Bobby some relief.”
“So I see! I thought someone was being murdered in here. We’ll have the neighbours knocking at the door shortly.” She advanced into the room. “Goodness, what a mess! He must have needed that! Clare dear – when he’s quite recovered would you help him get cleaned up? At least we’ll be able to eat lunch in peace, without his…his thing demanding attention. Cindy, dear – it’s all over your hand – oh, and your leggings!”
“I know, Wendy. It was worth it though. It’s a long time since I’ve witnessed an eruption quite like that!”
“I’m sure. Probably not since you were also a teenager.”
Bobby had opened his eyes.
“I-I’m sorry… I should go get cleaned up…”
“Don’t apologise darling,” smiled Georgie. “I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. Only thing is… it’s made me rather horny… And it’s all your fault…” She gave him a strange look.
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Topic: His Aunt Nicole (Read 18632 times)
