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Toby laughed. “Oh, I think I know where this is going. Sol’s using Ivor as a visual aid, isn’t he?” It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Got it in one. As we speak, Ivor’s on the stage. Sol’s probably removing the biggest sound and Ivor is gonna come like a fucking geyser.”
Toby had to see this.
As he rose, Sean cleared his throat. “Everything’s okay then, over there under the big sky?”
Toby frowned. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Then it hit him. “So… did you bet on me staying in Montana, or did you think I’d come crawling back here with my tail between my legs?”
Sean flushed. “Hey, you can’t blame us. Toby Merrow in love? None of us sawthatone coming.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
Sean’s eyes twinkled. “I bet you’d stay the course.”
Toby smiled. “I hope they were good odds, and you win a packet.”
He excused himself and left Sean’s office. The stage wasn’t huge, just big enough to demonstrate suspension, floggers, and occasionally they dragged a St. Andrew’s Cross onto it. A crowd stood around; all attention was focused on the demonstration.
Two chairs sat in the center of the stage, Sol on one, the other facing him. Ivor was a skinny guy wearing nothing but a harness and boots. He sat upright, gripping the edge of his seat, his body rigid, his thighs quivering.
His dick was like a flagpole, pre-cum sliding down it in a thin trickle.
Sol was the picture of calm, dressed only in jeans and boots. Toby had to admit that when it came to demonstrations, Sol was pretty amazing. He exuded patience and humor, and the feedback on his demos was always good. From first glance, he appeared to have a new tattoo to add to his collection. Toby had once dared him to have his bald head tattooed, but Sol had laughed off the challenge. Anyone meeting him for the first time would think he was in his early forties, but Toby knew the truth.
I hope I look as good as he does when I reach my fifties.
Toby edged closer through the group of men standing around to get a better view. Sol was oblivious to the crowd, as he always was during such events.
The submissive claimed all his attention.
Sol leaned forward, his hands on Ivor’s knees.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.” Ivor was panting, his cock twitching.
Toby got close enough to make out the flat end of the grey silicone rod, protruding slightly from the top of Ivor’s dick head, only an inch or so visible. Sol tapped it a couple of times with his fingers, and Ivor groaned.
“You’re hard as a rock,” Sol murmured. He rotated the rod until the end was flat against Ivor’s slit. Then Toby had to fight the urge to laugh when Sol picked up a bullet vibrator.
Oh, you are evil.
Sol pressed the button on the base, held its rounded end to the rod, and the effect was instantaneous. Tremors rippled through Ivor, and his knuckles went white as he gripped the chair even harder.
Sol nodded. “You want to come, but you can’t.”
Ivor squirmed, his moans constant, and it was all he could do to manage a single nod.
Sol kept up the vibrations for a minute more, then clicked it off. Ivor sagged into his chair.
“Ready?”
Ivor swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
Slowly, Sol eased the silicone rod free of Ivor’s cock, and Ivor creamed over Sol’s fingers curled around his shaft, long ribbons of cum pulsing from it, Ivor trembling as wave upon wave of his climax crashed over him. When he was spent, Sol smiled and caressed his cheek.
“You did good.”
