Matthew is not a happy man. On the eve of his 40th birthday, he stands naked before a full-length mirror and assesses what he sees reflected within. Sure, his body is toned and well-maintained. His job is physical and defined muscles are a result of the manual labour. He is handsome. But what good are these things when they house an empty heart? The most upsetting thought is that the older he gets, the less chance he has of ever finding someone to fill that void.<br><br>He runs into the night, fuelled by negative thoughts and looking to end his loneliness -- permanently. But he trips and falls. There is an explosion of pain and then ... nothing.<br><br>He wakes in a place he doesn’t recognize. He lays chained to a bed, in a prison of gray stone patrolled by heavily muscled guards. He is Nowhere, a mysterious place of erotic fantasy.

Nowhere

Kell slid a finger into Matthew’s arsehole, burying it to the third knuckle. Matthew felt his whole body shudder. When Kell extracted the digit he replaced it with two fingers and then a third. With three thick fingers inside him and his own fingers still busy at his nipples, Matthew bucked and writhed like a wild thing caught in a net. Only he was not caught. He was freed. If only for an hour, a half-hour, he was freed. 


The sensation of Kell’s fleshy cockhead pushing against his anal sphincter almost took Matthew’s breath away. He reached behind him, found the intricate metal frame of the bed head, and wrapped his fingers around it, bracing himself for penetration. Slowly he felt his anal muscles give way to the invading cock, clamping down against its wide girth occasionally, but eventually relaxing so that Kell was able to begin thrusting.


Leaning forward on his powerful arms, Kell’s face hovered over Matthew’s as his hips drove his cock all the way into Matthew.


Chapter 12