Turning Terry

It was on my first Friday evening behind the bar of the “Elephant and Castle” that I saw Terry for the first time. He was with a group of half-a-dozen men who I quickly labelled “aggressively gay”, as demonstrated by both their clothing and behaviour. I had nothing against gay men, obviously, but this group’s loud obnoxious behaviour would have been unpleasant whatever their sexuality. In fact, I decided it was almost as if they were challenging anyone to object to their behaviour, so they could instantly scream “homophobe” and “Nazi”. One in particular, a middle-aged man wearing scarlet lipstick and nail varnish, seemed determined to live up to the worst stereotype of a “screaming queen”.

One member of the group seemed different, though. He was obviously reluctant to join in the raucous laughter and shrieking and looked almost embarrassed by the behaviour of his companions. When it came to his turn to get the drinks, he seemed relieved to leave the table for the relative quiet of the bar.

I smiled at him. “What can I get you?” I asked, and the young man gave the order: two pints of lager, vodka and Red Bull, a Chenin Blanc, a rum and coke, and finally a pint of real ale, which I knew from my observations was for himself.

“I’ve not seen you here before,” he said, while I was sorting out the drinks.

“No, it’s my first week. I used to work at the “Rose and Crown”, but they’re closed for refurbishment, so the owners put in a word for me here.”

“I’m sorry about my friends,” the young man continued with a little smile. “We come in here most Friday evenings, and some of them do get a bit loud. Don’t worry about telling them to turn it down a bit if it gets too much. The other barmaids always do.”

“Thanks for the advice, I’ll bear it in mind. I’m Annie, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you, Annie. I’m Terry. I’ll probably see you next week.”

He picked up the tray of drinks and went back to the table. And that was the last time I spoke to him that evening.

******

The following Friday week they were in again. This time I watched them more carefully, and it quickly became clear that Terry and the obnoxious loud guy (who was called Gary) were in some sort of relationship, though it seemed to be based largely on Gary bossing Terry around in a rather aggressive way. If one of my boyfriends had spoken to me like that, I’d have given them a piece of my mind, but Terry seemed almost afraid to speak out of turn.

I also noticed him looking over towards me several times, and once he even gave me a shy smile. I smiled back, and he quickly looked away, as if afraid that Gary might notice. Then I noticed Gary handing Terry a debit card and sending him up to the bar.

“Hi Terry,” I said with a friendly smile, “What are you all having this time?”

He gave the order, and we made idle conversation while I pulled the first couple of pints of lager, before I decided to ask a cheeky question.

“That guy, Gary, is he your boyfriend?” I asked as casually as I could.

“Yes, I guess so. We live together, anyway,” he said, seeming almost embarrassed.

Right on cue, I heard Gary’s voice.

“Oi, Twinkie, get a move on, where’s my fucking drink?”

A look of real pain flashed across Terry’s face; in fact, I’d almost have called it hatred.

“Just coming,” he said, and gave me a strange look. I thought he was going to say something, but he just picked up the tray of drinks and went back to the table.

Dave the landlord saw me looking at them. “There’s something not right about those two,” he said. “I’ve noticed it before. That Gary seems like a right shit, and the way he treats the lad is really creepy. If Terry was a woman, I’d call it an abusive relationship.”

“Guys can be victims too,” I said. “Not all gay relationships are perfect.”

“That’s true, I guess. And another thing: you know that debit card Gary gave him; it’s not Gary’s, it belongs to the lad. I’ve seen the name on it.”

That really got me worried. It sounded like a typical abusive thing to do. But I couldn’t prove anything, and maybe Terry was just careless with his stuff, and Gary was doing him a favour by looking after his cards. Or so I told myself, though I didn’t believe it.

******

The next week I wasn’t working on Friday, so it was two weeks before I saw Terry again. And when I did, I was shocked. He had a big bruise on the side of his face and a black eye.

“You’ve been in the wars,” I commented when he came up to get his round.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said. “I got a bit pissed last weekend and walked into a door.”

“Walked into a door”, I thought. “Seriously, no-one believes that old cliché”. I gave him a look that showed I didn’t believe him, and I could tell he knew.

“Look, Terry, you take care,” I said, and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

“Thanks, Annie, I will,” he said, and went back to the table.

My mind was swirling while I served the next customer. It was pretty clear that someone had hit Terry, and who else could it be but Gary? I knew enough about domestic abuse to know I couldn’t call the police myself without better evidence, and even if they did go round it could end up making things worse for the victim. But I wanted him to know that there was somewhere he could go if he wanted help. I found a beer mat and scribbled my address and mobile number on it. Then, when I saw Terry going downstairs to the Gents, I asked Dave to mind the bar and followed him down. I lurked in the doorway of the Ladies’ and when Terry came out, I slipped the beermat into his pocket.

He was about to say something, but I shushed him.

“Just call me if you need to talk,” I said. “Or come round. Seriously, I mean it.”

“Thanks Annie,” he said, looking relieved. Before I could say anything else I heard Gary’s voice.  

“What the fuck are you doing, Twinkie? How long does it take to have a piss? Get upstairs, we’re going home.”

“Seriously, Terry,” I said, “call me.”

I think he heard the worry in my voice, and he nodded as he went back upstairs. I felt I’d done as much as I could, and only hoped it was the right thing.

******

Three days passed. Then I was in the kitchen boiling the kettle for tea when my phone warbled. It was a text from Terry.

“I’ve done it. I’ve walked out. Can I see you?”

“Sure, come to the flat, just buzz and I’ll let you in,” I replied quickly.

“Thanks! I’m outside.”

And right on cue the buzzer sounded. I pushed the button to let him in downstairs, and two minutes later there he was on my doorstep, wearing a heavy-looking rucksack and a grateful look on his face.

“Oh god, Annie, I don’t how to thank you,” he began, but I dragged him in quickly and shut the door.

“Right, get that bag and coat off, go through there and I’ll get us a drink,” I ordered. I re-boiled the kettle, found another mug, and, in true English style, made us two strong mugs of Yorkshire tea. Terry was sitting nervously on the sofa when I went into the front room.

“I’m sorry”, he blurted out as he took the mug I offered him, “But you did say I should get in touch. And I couldn’t think of anyone else.”

“I’m so glad you did,” I said, giving him an awkward hug while he tried not to spill tea all over me. “So, what happened?”

He told the whole story; how Gary had been especially awful the night before, over some tiny perceived misdemeanour, and then slapped him when he tried to defend himself, before flouncing out. So, Terry had gathered as many belongings as he could fit into his bag, broken into Gary’s desk to get his cards, passport, and driving licence, and fled without leaving a note.

“It wasn’t ‘til I was in the street that I thought about where I was going to go,” he admitted. “I was going to get a train somewhere, anywhere, just to get away, but then I remembered what you’d said. And I though if maybe I could just stay over for tonight, you might help me come up with something.”

I hugged him again. And somehow the hug went on, and I could feel his heart beating against mine. I pulled my head away and looked at him; he looked at me; and I saw something in his eyes that made me do something surprising. I leant in and kissed him, not platonically on the cheek but full on the mouth, pushing my tongue against his lips. He moaned as he opened his mouth and our tongues met and entwined. I lowered my hands to his arse, squeezed his cheeks, and pulled his crotch against mine. I could feel the bulge of his cock against my thigh.

“Oh God, Annie,” he mumbled as we snogged. “I don’t know…”

“I do,” I said, “And from what I can feel down there, you do too.” I reached down and stroked his shaft, which was already hard down his trouser leg.

“Fuck, Annie, I want you so much,” he said. I felt his hand slide between our bodies and cup my right breast. “Oh Jesus,” he continued as he realised I was braless.

“Here, have a proper feel,” I said, pulling off my top. He gaped for a moment at the sight of my perky little tits, their pink nipples already hard with excitement. I gave them a little jiggle to encourage him, and he bent over and took my left nipple in his mouth, while tweaking at the right one with his fingers. I let out a little gasp: it felt so good. He sucked on my left bud, caressing it with his lips, before teasing it gently with his teeth. I whimpered as he began to knead my other boob.

“Is that okay,” he asked nervously, and I realised it was probably a long time since he’d played with a woman’s breasts.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” I reassured him. “I just get so wet when someone sucks my nipples like that.”

He began to tongue my little buds again. It was fun, but I wanted to see what he had to offer in the trouser department. So, I groped at his crotch, where his bulge felt even bigger, and popped the button on his fly, then unzipped it. I reached in to find his cock, and to my delight found that he wasn’t wearing any underwear either. My hand grasped his shaft, and I pulled it out of his trousers.

“Oh wow,” I said. He was big, really big, and so thick I couldn’t get my hand right round it. I gave the hot shaft a few gentle rubs, feeling it throb at my touch. A small trickle of pre-cum dribbled out, helping to lubricate the swollen head.

“I bet you’re popular with the boys,” I said.

“Well, kind of, though I can’t always get it into their arses, even with lube.”

“I’m not sure I’d let it near mine, but don’t worry, I’ve got somewhere else you can put it, where it’ll fit just fine.”

Now I’d seen his dick, I knew this was going to be more than just a sympathy fuck. I wanted him inside me, several times if possible. I began to pull at his trousers, and he got the message, taking over to remove them, followed by his socks and the rest of his clothes. I stripped too, and quickly we were both naked.

I could now see that he was completely hairless around his cock and balls, making his shaft seem even larger, if that were possible. I made him sit on the sofa with his legs apart, then nestled between his legs and took his cock in my mouth. I licked around the smooth knob and tickled the rim with my tongue, then slowly slid the length into my mouth. I could deep-throat most normal-sized cocks, but he must have been easily ten inches, and as the tip of his knob hit the back of my throat, I felt my gag reflex kick in. He was so rock-hard that it wouldn’t bend enough to go down my throat anyway, so I concentrated on slurping at it as noisily as I could.  

He began to rock backwards and forwards on the sofa, fucking my mouth as I licked his shaft. After a few minutes I let him slide out of my mouth and turned my attention to his lovely hairless balls. I sucked on them gently, then put them one at a time into my mouth. It was a treat to play with a pair of bollocks without getting a mouthful of hairs.

He pulled me up onto the sofa, rolled onto his back with me on top of him, and we kissed some more, while he put his hand down between my legs and fumbled for my hole.

“Go lower,” I whispered, “You’re nearly there.”

I opened my legs a bit to help him and was rewarded by feeling his finger slip inside me.

“Mm, that’s it,” I said. “Now put another finger in and move them about a bit.”

I sighed as his digits pressed against the soft walls of my vagina, stimulating my juices to flow even more copiously. I could feel them dribbling out of my hole and down my thighs.

“I want you to fuck me now,” I instructed. I rolled over onto my back, and spread my legs, giving him a full-on view of my gaping hole. He positioned himself over me, then guided his cock between my legs and into my sticky passage.

He let out a sigh of pleasure, then began to fuck me slowly, his cock going further in each time until his knob was practically pressed against my cervix. The combination of length and thickness was glorious, and I felt really filled up by an actual cock (as opposed to my horse-dick dildo) for the first time in ages. His shaft made such a wonderful sucking, slurping, noise as it thrust in and out, and I was sure my juices must have been frothing like a cappuccino.

“Let me go on top now,” I said, and he pulled out momentarily while we repositioned ourselves. I took his cock in my hand, slick with my juices, and gave it a quick lick before straddling him and lowering myself onto his shaft.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned as his rod buried itself deep inside me again. I began to bounce up and down on him, while he supported my hips. As I’d warned him, I was dripping wet with excitement, and soon my juices were running out down his shaft and dribbling over his ball-sack.

After a while his breath began to come faster, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “Oh fuck, I’m going to come,” he moaned, thrusting his crotch upwards in time with my bouncing.

“Come inside me, babe,” I gasped, my tits swinging vigorously as the springs of the sofa creaked ominously.

“Ah Christ, I’m coming!” he cried, and did so, his body shaking as he ejaculated deep inside me. Spurt after spurt of hot creamy spunk shot up inside me, and I thought at first he was going to start fucking me again immediately, without pause for breath.

But I was properly fucked, so I collapsed on top of him, and we lay gasping together with his dick still inside me. Eventually it grew soft enough to slip out, and I felt his cum dribble out of my pussy and down between my legs onto the upholstery.

“Well, you can’t sleep on the sofa now,” I whispered. “It’s covered in cum. I think we’d better go to bed.” Still naked, we went next door into my bedroom and slipped under the duvet together, then cuddled each other until we both fell asleep.

******

The following morning, I was awakened by the feel of his morning wood pressing against my bare thigh. I reached down and began to play with it until he woke up too. Then I eased his shaft into me, and we fucked gently until he came again. Then, to my delight, he went down between my legs and licked me out. He opened his mouth, showing me his tongue coated with his own cum. 

“That’s so hot, now come and kiss me,” I said, and he did so, letting his spunk dribble into my mouth. 

“You know, your dick is definitely wasted just being shoved up guys’ arses,” I mused as we cuddled some more. 

“Thank you, Annie, for everything,” he said, lying with his head resting on my warm little tits. 

“I think you’ve done the right thing,” I said. “Walking out, I mean. And the fuck was great too. You’ve obviously not forgotten how to do it with girls.” 

“It was good for me too. You don’t know how good. You see, that was my first time ever with a woman. And it felt so right.” 

I was a little surprised by this; most of my gay male friends seemed to have at least tried sex with a woman before deciding it wasn’t their thing. 

“You certainly do it well, sweetie,” I giggled, snuggling up to him. “But seriously, you’ve always just been with men?” 

“Yes. You see, I was always shy at school. I couldn’t seem to think of the right thing to say to the girls, though I always wanted to. But in the end, it just didn’t happen, and I was still a virgin when I went off to uni. I kind of thought it would be different there, and in a way it was. In the very first week I went to a party and got chatting to this guy who was in his second year. Looking back, I suppose he was chatting me up, but I just thought he was being friendly. God, I was so naïve. 

Anyway, we ended up in bed together, having sex, and you know, I did enjoy it. He sucked me off, which felt so much nicer than just wanking, and then I did the same to him. And after that, I just started going with men. I was never in a relationship for long, but that didn’t seem to matter: the sex was fun, and I just moved around getting it whenever I could. 

“Then I left uni, without really knowing what I wanted to do next. I worked in pubs for a bit, just to make some money, and that’s where I met Gary. He came in with a group and chatted me up at the bar, just like that. I went back to his place afterwards, we fucked all night, and in the morning, he invited me to stay. I just said yes.” 

He sighed. “What a mistake that was. He was nice as pie at first, acting as if he wanted to look after me, and making me feel wanted. But slowly I realised he was a total control freak. He took my passport and bank cards, saying he wanted to keep them safe, but then wouldn’t give them back when I wanted to go out. So, without cards I could only go out with him and his friends, which is what he wanted. I see now I was a sort of “trophy husband”, someone he could boss around. Even the sex wasn’t much good after a while. He just wanted to fuck me up the arse and then fall asleep. 

“It sounds pathetic now I say it, but I started looking at straight porn just to get back at him. And I soon realised that I was getting much more turned by it than I ever was by guys. I thought at first it was the cocks doing the fucking that were getting me hard, but soon just looking at women did the same. I started looking at real women and wanting them too. That’s when I saw you.” 

“So, you did want me? I thought I must be imagining it.” 

“Oh yes, I really did want to fuck you,” he smiled. “But you weren’t just gorgeous, you were kind and sweet and caring and obviously everyone in the pub liked you, not just me. And that’s why when you gave me your number, I knew I had to go through with it. And then last night, when I felt my cock going into you, and you kissed me, I felt complete for the first time in my life. I think you’ve saved me in more ways than one, Annie.” 

******

I assured Terry he could stay with me while he found himself a job, and somewhere more permanent to stay. Then, a couple of days later, Gary came into the “Elephant and Castle”. He flounced up to the bar, where I was wiping the glasses. 

“Where is he?” he asked aggressively. 

“Where’s who?” I answered, all innocence. 

“You know who I mean,” he snapped. “I’ve seen the way he talks to you.” 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You filthy little slut, I know your game…” he began, but Dave (who’d been lurking by the till) quickly came over. 

“Right, that’s it,” he said. “I’m not having anyone speaking like that to my staff. Get out of my pub, and don’t come back.” 

Gary looked as if he was about to explode, but thought better of it, and barged out of the pub, knocking over one of the tables on his way out. And that was the last we saw of him.   

****** 

To cut a long story short, Terry stayed with me for a few weeks. Dave put in a good word for him, and he got a job helping in the kitchen of another pub, far enough away from Gary’s place to be safe, and which meant he could afford the rent on a room in a house nearby. It turned out he was a great cook, and soon moved on to work in a local restaurant, where the pay was better. 

I was sorry when he had to go, and not just because of his massive cock, but we agreed it was best. We kept in touch, of course, and a few weeks after he’d started his new job I got a message from him, asking me round to dinner at his place. 

When I arrived, I was surprised and delighted to find another girl in the room with him. 

“This is Angie,” he said, “she works at the restaurant with me. I wanted you to meet her.” 

Angie gave me a big hug. “Terry’s told me all about you,” she said. “How you helped him and gave him a place to stay. I’ve been badgering him to meet you for ages.” 

"So are you two a thing" I asked.  

“I guess we are,” he said, and Angie took his arm. 

“Sure we are,” she said. “But we wondered if you fancied staying over tonight, so we could both thank you. I think Terry’s cock is big enough for two.” 

It turned out she was right.