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This story contains extreme raunch. If you're not into scat/puke it may not be for you...
Whatever guilt I felt for what happened with Danny clearly never made the transition to my subconscious. That night, clinging to his dirty Calvins, the shit stain under my nose on my pillow, I fell asleep in the intense sweaty heat and dreamed deep. In the dream I was in a boarding school. I could tell from the smell. Ripening crotches blooming into full creamy love-boxes all around. I passed through a sports hall that was empty apart from a trail of dirty shorts leading up to a stock cupboard. Each pair of shorts was soaked in cum and piss and a few of them had that wonderful stinking taint that comes from being stuck up a teenage arse for an hour or two. Of course I followed the trail towards the cupboard, picking up and sniffing as I went. And the closer I got to the cupboard the more I heard the sound.
The smacking of flesh on flesh, the guttural moaning of young men in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Somebody in there was fucking. I reached the doors and opened both and what I saw would make anyone rock hard. Well anyone with a disposition for teenage lads and anal play. The smacking sound came not from hips on flesh but cheek against cheek. Two figures writhed in sweaty heat as they shared an enormous double end dildo. Sticky clammy arse cheeks hit each other hard as both bottoms did their best to drive the dildo deeper into each other. But when I saw who the bottoms were I thought somebody in charge of my dream world has done their homework.
One the left was Danny. His specs steamed up, a trail of salive dangling from his full lips in sheer ecstasy and delirium at the deep pummeling his hole was receiving. On the right? The boy next door. The 17 year old Kev had caught me giving his first rim-job that became the catalyst for our messy divorce. To describe my heavenly neighbour I would have to be crude and make a comparison. Imagine the actor Theo Graham – a google search will suffice and probably give you wet pants – only with a skinhead and a pitiful attempt at facial hair. Then you're half way there. So I'll call him Theo to keep his identity safe, lest his big black dad come tracking me down with an iron fist. Now there's a thought. But there they were arse to arse banging like the clappers, Theo's mocha skin slapping hard against Danny's white arse. And the final touch in my perverted delirium – both wore school uniforms, the grey trousers pulled down just to the knees, their mounds of flesh the only exposed parts.
As Theo beckoned me closer I came into the cupboard and closed the doors behind me. And when I did the smell hit me. Neither boy had washed in a while and the whole cupboard smelled of rubber mats and dirty anus. I knelt at their side and leaned forward for a closer look at the sliver of dildo still on show between their stretching holes. It was cream coloured – or at least it had been before exploring the depths of their stomachs. Now it was traced with a mixture of brown and mustard coloured shit. And as each lad pulled further and further away it plopped out of their holes. Theo's shit was mustard coloured whilst Danny's was more of a conker brown. I took the dildo in my hand as the boys laughed and turned to join me, their erect pricks sticking out and pouring with pre cum like somebody had turned on a tap. I switched the dildo end for end so that Danny's shit pointed at Theo and vice versa. And as I wished the lads leaned in, and began to suckle on each other's end, tasting the delicious gut lining their thrusting had pulled out of one another.
As I leaned in to join them... typical. I woke up. Looking down at my bed sheets I realised I was utterly sodden. I've had wet dreams before but this was ridiculous. Until the smell hit me and I realised I'd actually wet the bed. Lying in my own piss, harder than steel, I wrapped Danny's Calvins around my face, skid marks over my nose, and pumped my nine inch shaft. It took all of twenty seconds before I erupted with lava cum, showering my chest and mixing with the piss in my bed. I lay there for a second afterwards and then, clinging to the stolen underwear and feeling the piss and cum going cold, I had to laugh. What a ridiculous way to start the day.
After stripping my bed and jumping in the shower I was happy to not be as hungover as I thought I might be. But it wasn't long before the reality of last night hit me. To all intents and purposes I'd conned my way into the room of a vulnerable young man and taken advantage. Would he remember? If he did remember, would he tell anyone? I hoped and prayed he would be too ashamed to spill the beans. But all the same, faced with being left on my own by Trish in this Godforsaken hotel, I decided all signs pointed to `get the fuck out of here.' It wouldn't be the world's biggest tragedy to lose out on a few hundred pounds for the remainder of my stay. I'd have breakfast, then book a return flight to the UK and cancel my room.
I descended on the all-inclusive breakfast like I'd been starved for ten years. Surrounded by annoying families and screaming brats I inhaled two helpings of catering sausage and overcooked runny eggs before scarpering. I knew I'd be safe from the stag do here – there was no way they'd rise before two in the afternoon, not after the skinful they must have had last night. But as I got up to leave I did notice two of them coming in. Much older than the others, in their forties or fifties, the two I came to know as Jimmy and Steve sat down at the end table and attacked (rather noisily) their obligatory full English as I passed. Both were handsome in a slightly overweight, truck-driver way. Similar in looks with their ginger-tinged hair and blue eyes I thought maybe they were brothers. I heard a snippet of their conversation as I passed.
"Don't go so hard on the lad," Steve was saying. "It's his first holiday without Karen doting on him. You remember your first lads holiday don't you?"
"Yeah I do," Jimmy responded. "I got the clap. But I didn't fucking shit and piss the bed! He's nearly seventeen for God's sake."
"And he's your son, Jim. Go easy on him."
Hearing this made my heartrate quicken. They were talking about Danny – who was only sixteen? I'd got to eat out a sixteen year old and take his puke and shit? I'll freely admit to popping a semi there and then. But I'll also tell you that knowing his father was there on the trip with him put a spring in my step to hurry up and get the hell out of there.
Upon reaching the reception I was cut off in my prime by a bus load of German tourists all vying to be checked in first. Clearly this was going to take an hour so I decided I would at least put some distance between myself and the scene of the crime. I nipped back to my room, grabbed a trashy novel and my beach things, and headed for the coast. Which was all of ten minutes away.
It being so early I managed to avoid the streams of beached-whale bodies, middle aged women with tits covering their bellies and screaming kids. The beach was relatively quiet. I found a nice spot in the sun and lost myself in the world of a dodgy detective solving some inane murder. That was until my sun was blocked by a towering figure standing over me. Peering over my book I found myself in the presence of a six foot five black African Adonis. In just blue shorts, with a six pack, pert bullet nipples, the stream of sweat and a distinct whiff of BO, he smiled down at me clutching a hand full of tacky bracelet.
"Three euro!"
"No thank you I don't have any money."
Cheeky, he pushed more. "ATM right there!"
"I'm reading!" I snapped back, annoyed but also amused by his sheer brass neck.
"Good book?" he asked. "Sexy huh?"
I knew what he was doing. Engage me in conversation, soften me up, make a friend, earn the euro for his tacky wares. That was not going to happen. However call it the influence of last night but I did feel mischievous. I wanted to play a game with him.
"Lots of sex," I responded. And then... "with men."
He looked confused and then awkward. "I come back."
"Do you like sex with men?" I asked.
"Fuck no. I fuck girls. Pussy."
"Lucky pussy," I responded. "Do you like to eat it?"
He cleared his throat, weirded out by this. "What?"
"Do you like to eat pussy? Do you like to make it stream down your chin?"
I saw, quite visibly, a boner popping in his shorts. I was solid too.
"Yes. I love it."
"Do you ever stick your fingers in a woman's arse?" I asked him, smirking, suddenly feeling more and more power in this situation.
"I go."
"Okay. I love sex with men. Sometimes I pay."
Now let it be known I have never paid for sex in my life. But I had spent the last hour reading about prostitutes being murdered and hard-boiled detectives so blame the book. I reached into my pocket and wore a massive grin on my face, taking off my shades and looking him dead in the eye for the first time.
"Oh silly me. I do have money."
"For bracelet?"
"For sex."
He was still hard. "Fuck you man."
"Is there a public toilet nearby?" I asked, remaining calm in voice even though my heart pounded in my chest.
"Right here. By bar."
"Okay. One hundred euro."
"Fuck you!" he was becoming more aggressive. "No sex with men!"
"Alright, no sex with men. I'm sorry."
He backed off, annoyed but still erect. I knew not to push it. I did, however, need to piss like a racehorse. Collecting my things – the beach at Benidorm is not the place to leave your beach bag on the lounger – I headed into the public loo with the honest intention of using it for it's original function. There were four stalls and three urinals. It was dimly lit and the attendant clearly didn't work this early. I was alone as I stood at the urinal and took out my cock.
I was still semi erect and my piss had that syrupy pre-cum texture to it. I scooped a little up as my yellow rivers flowed. Salty to the taste and pleasant on the lips. And then the door opened. Who should walk in but the African. His hard on was gone and he barely even glanced at me as he headed for the cubicle.
"Hello there." I clearly had gone insane. This man could snap my neck in two!
"I come to shit that's all!"
Impulse led my hand into my pocket and I took out a wad of notes. "Let me watch."
I threw the wad at his feet. Confused, he picked it up, counted it. He looked at me like I was an alien. Maybe I am. With that he slid the money into his pocket and shrugged, going into the cubicle and leaving the door open. My dick still in hand I had to do all I could not to cum there and then. Walking to the cubicle I found him dropping his short. His dick, semi again, was at least ten inches uncut. His balls tight and firm and shaved. His public hair was barely there. Obviously forced to shave by his girlfriend. He wouldn't look at me as he sat down on the toilet. Something so primal and erotic about how a man's thighs expand on a toilet seat as he waits for nature to take its course.
"Open your legs," I whispered.
Frowning, he did. His dick was hard now and giant. Clearly being watched turned him on no matter who the voyeur was. I edged closer and knelt down so I could smell his arse and balls whafting up.
"Let it go."
And he did. Oh how he did. The squelch and plump into the water told me he wanted this over with and was forcing it. The smell – bad eggs – hit me straight away and I couldn't hold back. I lunged forward and engulfed his ebony anaconda in my hungry mouth. He gasped and more shit came out. My mouth slid down the black shaft towards his balls and he cried out. The splash of the shit in the water came up and covered his balls. I released his cock and licked the balls clean, the smell of his sweat and shit tangling in my nostrils. I engulfed the head once more working my tongue under the skin for those flecks of Benidorm sun-kissed cheese, and I smiled up at him as he looked at me in a mix of horror and amazement.
"I bet your girlfriend can't do this."
And I relaxed my throat and swallowed the whole thing. Ten inches down my gullet, throbbing against my tonsils. I grabbed his hand and plonked it on my head, and without instruction he began to fuck my throat. He groaned and cried out as he raped my poor gullet. He was angry, confused, horny all at once and he took it out on me until he erupted. I barely tasted the cum as he was so deep in my throat when he unloaded. It went straight to my stomach and then he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me off him. I fell to the floor as he stood up and pulled up his shorts. He wouldn't even look at me as he ran out of there. I needed to cum. He hadn't flushed.
I knelt at the toilet and looked down at his large logs curled in the water like hot dogs. Inhaling his aroma I pumped my shaft and it puked white yoghurt all over the floor. I could hardly believe it had happened. Mostly I was in disbelief that I'd actually fucking paid for it! I got my stuff together and stepped back out into the harsh sunlight. He was nowhere to be seen. I couldn't help thinking with a smile that he hadn't wiped his arse as he left.
Returning to the hotel I decided it was definitely time to book that flight and check out. But typically the Germans were still crowding reception. I could at least be productive and return to my room to pack. So I made for the elevator but as I waited for the doors to open I found myself being ambushed.
Three beefy scallies – led by Jay's brother Simon, were coming my way. This was it, I realised. Retribution. Death by pummelling. But Simon was smiling, laughing, as were the others.
"Sorry mate," Simon laughed. "Emergency!"
And the three of them barged past me into the elevator. I followed, confused. Simon was big and burly, his mates Conor and Luke were clearly brothers, both gormless looking with shaved dark hair.
"Late night?" I asked.
"Yeah," Conor replied. "Sorry mate, we didn't shower before brekkie."
"I can tell," was my response, inhaling the aroma of BO, balls and feet.
Simon suddenly whacked the control panel as the lift began its ascent. "Hurry the fuck up!" Simon yelled at the lift. "Them sausages didn't agree with us!" he explained, and as he did Luke let one rip, laughing.
"Ah Luke!" Conor cried out. "Fucking shameful!"
"It's gonna smell worse if this fucking life doesn't hurry up!" Simon yelled. "I'll end up shitting myself like our Danny!"
As the lads laughed, suddenly the lift jerked to a halt. We were between floors. The emergency light came on.
"What the fuck!" Luke cried out. "We're stuck?!"
"No we can't be!" Simon cried. "I'm gonna shit myself! No!!!"
And as the lads went into hysteria I eyed their pert teenage straight boy arses as I stepped away from the `emergency stop' button which I'd surreptitiously brushed against. I kept quite calm as they become more and more agitated, and slid down the wall until I was seated on the floor, my face on level with their stinking posteriors. And as they waited for the emergency services to come, I waited for them to make good on their threat. Three big dirty loads all over this tiny little elevator...
To Be Continued...