A knife appeared from the depths of one of the coveralls and was thrust against Bill's windpipe. "Move and he dies." The point pricked his skin, drawing a bead of blood to emphasise the point.The five intruders were well versed in what they were about; moving in confident and practiced, perhaps even well rehearsed choreographic manoeuvres. Four detached from the phalanx that had pushed Bill backwards, circling the prone and gasping figure of her husband at compass points of north east and west, south east and west, just where his limbs happened to be. They each grabbed an arm or leg and picked him up, ignoring his feeble struggles to carry him to the giant centrered low-level, marble topped table. The fifth member of the group had produced from a pocket of his coveralls, four short pieces of white rope. Bill was bound fast at wrist and ankle to the coffee table with a material gag tied around the back of his neck. Bizarrely, the four then picked up the table with its burden and stood. There's a first time for everything and here I was jerking off in the bathroom as my Mother sat downstairs.After five or six minutes of red-faced wanking, I finally felt my orgasm ticking over and gritted my teeth as I tried to hold the plastic container still and point my throbbing dong at the open end. With a vigorous final yank of my meat, I climaxed.And all hell broke loose.Doing a pretty good impression of a punch-drunk Goofy, everything around me melted away as I did a little rain dance on the spot trying to keep some sense of control as I went for the bullseye. And missed in the most spectacular way imaginable.The first stream of spunk shot out like a gooey missile and splattered the mirror above the sink. Shit! HOLD THE FUCK STILL, DUDE! But it was no use. I was bouncing around like a Teletubby on crack and the rest of my load decorated the bathroom. With a loud groan of exasperated relief, I collapsed onto the toilet seat breathing hard as my head swam in the clouds. Moments.
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