Bradley Stoke

Bradley Stoke (Part 2 of 3) (c) Oliver Jennings, 2004

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Michael was wearing only a pair of white briefs which bulged at the front in a way that, had I been a virgin to gay sex, I'd have found very intimidating. I thought, "You ain't doing yourself any favours there, mate..." I had to admit, though, that apart from that - admittedly fairly prominent - shortcoming, Michael looked very appealing. I knew he played squash and worked out at the company gym twice a week, and it certainly showed. He wasn't what you might call classically athletic, but his chest was firm and well-developed and his forearms and thighs were thick and muscular. For a guy in his early thirties, which I'd guess his age to be, he was extremely well-toned.

I was thinking, "Well, if Wesley passes you up on your offer, I'll step in, mate..." I didn't want the London job, but the rest of the deal looked very attractive.

Wesley was wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a sports shirt. He was thin and looked as if what was underneath might be quite pleasant on the eye. The jogging bottoms flashed occasional hints of the fact there might be a not insubstantial cock swinging around inside them and the back of them revealed the round bulges of an arse which was, as Michael had already observed, eminently fuckable.

Michael broke the silence by saying, "You're not going to sleep in those, are you?"

Wesley chuckled. "Why not? I usually do..."

Michael moved closer to him, looking him up and down as if checking out what he was wearing for the first time. He laughed, "Well, for a start it's too warm in here to be wearing all those... and secondly you're with the big boys now... you're expected to get into line with us..."

Wesley laughed. "'Big boys'? And what do 'big boys' wear for bed?"

I noticed he moved closer to Michael, looking at his underwear intently.

Michael smiled. "What you see, mate... maybe you should follow suit..."

Wesley laughed again. Then he said, adopting a girlish voice, "Maybe I'd be too shy..."

Michael lunged at him, almost knocking over some of the boxes of sales leaflets Wesley had brought up with him, and grabbed his jogging bottoms. He laughed, "I'll help you then, Wesley... you can't sleep in those..."

Wesley giggled, "Hey... get off!" And he pulled away from Michael.

Michael kept chuckling, knowing that Wesley was enjoying the attention if nothing else, and backed off a little. Then he suggested, "I tell you what, to help you overcome your shyness... I'll undress if you will..."

Wesley tittered, "You haven't exactly got a lot to take off..."

Michael shrugged. "Exactly... all the more reason for you to agree..."

Wesley laughed again. Now he tried a different stalling tactic: "We should be more considerate... Ollie's trying to get to sleep..."

Michael turned to me, saying, "You don't mind, do you mate?"

I smiled over at them. "Not at all. It's kind of like a bedtime story. Except I think I can pretty much work out how this one's going to end..."

Michael laughed and turned back to Wesley.

He said, "Come on, then, let's see you overcome your shyness." He pulled Wesley's jogging bottoms down to the tops of his thighs, revealing a fairly small, limp cock and low-hanging balls. Evidently, the lad was not enjoying this on a sexual level.

Wesley laughed and said, "Okay, then, you too..." And he yanked down Michael's briefs, releasing a semi-hard cock which must have been about six inches long.

Wesley looked at it with mild fascination and muttered, "Jesus, mate... if I had a dick like that, I wouldn't ever be shy again...!"

Michael suggested: "It gets even bigger if you play with it..."

Wesley looked over at me and I smiled encouragingly. He faltered for a few seconds and then got to work on Michael's cock, gently stroking it and then, as he developed in confidence, masturbating it more deliberately.

Michael closed his eyes and sighed, his cock slowly lengthening and thickening as the younger man manipulated it in his fist. Soon it was about eight inches long and curving upwards expectantly and insistently.

Wesley stared at it, watching as the cock in his hand gradually achieved its full, magnificent, size. His eyes, although displaying an interest in what was happening in front of them, were cold and removed and spoke only two words: "London Job."

Michael said, perhaps trying to encourage Wesley to become aroused himself, "Relax, mate... like I said before, it's just a bit of fun..."

But Wesley's cock remained steadfastly insignificant between his legs; three or four inches long and dangling down over the top of his loose scrotum.

I watched Wesley wanking Michael, thinking, "Michael's not going to settle for this... he's going to want a lot more than this...", when Michael said, "It gets even bigger if you suck it..."

Wesley swallowed and just kept masturbating it. After a few seconds, he said, "Do you think I should?"

I almost laughed at that. Like Michael was going to say, "Well, actually, no, come to think of it..."

Michael nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah... go for it... see if you like it..."

Wesley's face betrayed the fact he didn't want to do this. Or, to be more precise, how disgusted he was by the prospect of doing this.

I was thinking, "It's a nice, big cock, Wesley mate. You couldn't ask for a better one on your first go..."

But Wesley didn't look at all happy about it. I almost thought he was going to put things to an end there and then and say, "Look, Michael, if this is what it takes - well - you can fuck the job in London..."

I'd have thought a lot more of him if he had.

But he didn't. He got down on his knees in front of Michael and took that huge, engorged organ into his mouth. He sucked on it like a baby on a bottle of milk. Just slurping away at the end of it, as though he was sucking an ice-cream.

Michael pulled out, laughing a little uncomfortably, and said, "Hey, Wesley, mate... haven't you ever had your dick sucked... you don't do it like that, mate..."

Wesley looked up at him, obviously deeply embarrassed by his blunder. "Oh...?"

"Yeah... you move your mouth in and out... you pretend your mouth is a pussy... lick it and kiss it... play with it inside your mouth and stuff... don't treat it like a lollipop..."

Michael laughed but Wesley just turned an even deeper shade of scarlet.

I almost laughed myself. I was thinking, "You thought you'd just pull his pud a few times and he'd cum and you'd be in London by this time next week... it ain't so easy, mate, is it?"

Wesley said, "Okay, okay... I just never did it before..."

Michael chuckled. "Yeah... I kind of realised that..."

Wesley tried, offering a wan smile, "It's pretty cool that you're with a virgin, though, isn't it? I mean a virgin as far as this kind of stuff is concerned..."

Michael smiled and said, "Yeah, I guess... but just go easy with the teeth, okay?"

Wesley flashed an apologetic grin, his cheeks going red again. "Yeah, okay. That was an accident..."

He opened his mouth widely and took the top three or four inches of Michael's cock into his mouth. Then he started moving back and forth, pumping the cock with his lips.

Michael sighed and held the back of Wesley's head, trying to encourage the lad to take more of his cock on each thrust. His arse cheeks started flexing and hips began bucking as he started fucking the younger man's face.

He gasped, "That's more like it... that's pretty nice..."

Wesley grunted and pulled away. He said, after swallowing what I assume was a mouthful of precum from the end of Michael's cock, "Let me know if you're gonna cum..."

Michael chuckled. "You're not that good, mate. You've a lot to learn before you can make me cum with your mouth..."

Wesley flushed again and glanced over at me. I smiled pleasantly at him which obviously added to his discomfort.

Michael added, "And anyway, I want to find out how fuckable your arse really is..."

Wesley looked up at him, unable to conceal the horror on his face.

I almost laughed. Did he really expect that he could settle for just a wank and a suck, after everything Michael had said? I hoped, for his sake, that he'd packed a few tubes of lube.

Wesley said, "We don't have go that far, do we?"

Michael laughed. "I thought you said you were versatile..."

Wesley stammered, "Yeah, but..."

"...and that you were going to demonstrate exactly how..."

Wesley looked terrified.

Michael rubbed his hair affectionately and said, more gently, "Come on, mate, it's not that bad... have you ever fucked your girlfriend's arse?"

Wesley shook his head. I'd kind of expected that response.

Michael continued, soothingly, "Well if you had, you'd know that it isn't too painful for her. And it won't be too painful for you."

Wesley's expression softened only slightly.

Michael went on, more brightly, "And if it is, tell me and I'll stop. It's as simple as that..."

Wesley considered the prospect for a few seconds and then asked, "Look... do we have to... I mean, do that?"

Michael shrugged. "No. Of course not. But I would really like it."

Wesley nodded slowly. There was no way out, really. If he said no at this stage all of his previous efforts would have been pretty much wasted. He'd be leaving Michael disappointed. Not a good career move.

Wesley asked, "Okay... but you'll be gentle, won't you?"

Michael smiled. "Actually, I like it rough with guys. I like to fuck their brains out - dunno why. I'm always a bit of a softie with women. Funny that."

Wesley's face did not suggest that he found it at all funny.

Michael chuckled and went on, "But I'll start off slow and we'll see how it goes... how's that?"

Wesley nodded, his eyes still wide with fear.

Michael gestured at his cock which had lost none of its size but had drooped downwards during the discussion. "Now suck this back to full mast, mate, and then we'll see what your other end can do for it..."

Wesley got back to work on Michael's cock, making a more competent job of it this time. If I had been him I'd have been deliberately awful at it, hoping to keep it soft for as long as possible to delay what was to come, but perhaps he wanted to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.

While he was being roughly face-fucked by Michael's cock, which had recovered to full stiffness in a matter of seconds, I wondered whether Wesley would ever tell anyone about this aspect of his ascent up the ranks of the company. Whether he'd ever mention to a girlfriend or wife that whereas some promotions came through hard work and dedication, others were achieved by working a few tricks on the cock of some influential superior.

And whether this would be the first of many such promotions.

Michael turned to glance over at me and as his hips thrust his cock rapidly in and out of Wesley's slurping mouth. He grinned at the mound my cock and hand were making underneath my duvet and asked, his voice almost a gasp, "Good show?"

I smiled back. "Excellent."

After a couple of minutes, Michael withdrew, panting, and announced he was ready to "sample that fuckable arsehole."

Wesley stood up, wiping the precum and slaver spattered around his lips and glancing sheepishly over at me. His cock was still limp, curling over his balls and looking a mere couple of inches in length.

Pulling off his jogging bottoms, he asked Michael, "What do I do?"

Michael was pulling a packet of condoms and a tube of lube out from his luggage. He grunted, "On your bed on all fours. Arse sticking out so I can stand behind you. Legs wide so your hole's open."

Wesley blushed again. Evidently he didn't find Michael's description of the position particularly flattering.

He got on the bed and adopted the position Michael had suggested, sticking his arse outwards like a bitch in heat. He saw me looking at him, staring over at his backside as his cheeks parted and the hairy pink ring between them was revealed, and his blush deepened.

Michael unfurled a condom down his long, arching cock and strode over to Wesley. He slid a couple of fingers up and down the length of the lad's arse cleft, brought them up to his nose and, sniffing them, suggested, "You might wanna just wipe yourself down in the bathroom a bit. I like to fuck a nice clean arse..."

Wesley's face turned the colour of beetroot. If I'd have been him I'd have told Michael that he could stick his dick up his own arse, clean or unclean, and stormed off into the bathroom to shower.

But Wesley just apologised quietly and timidly retired into the bathroom to attend to himself.

Michael looked over at me and grinned. I shook my head and tutted, whispering quietly, "That's going a bit too far, mate..."

Michael chuckled. "And he doesn't deserve it... all that Thai cookery shit?"

I smiled. "Well, maybe. But you better give him the job after this..."

Michael feigned a look of confusion. "Job... what job?"

I threw him a look of admonition, shaking my head again.

He laughed at my expression. "Hey - what do you think I am? Of course there's a job and of course he'll get it..."

The toilet flushed and Wesley re-emerged. His face was still a dark pink and he walked straight back to the bed without looking at either of us.

He got back on it with his arse sticking out again and the hairs inside his cleft looked damp from where he'd washed himself. Michael got behind him and roughly yanked his legs further apart making his balls hang down between his thighs. Michael groped around his arsehole and pressed a finger into him. He muttered, "Yeah... nice and tight." His voice was distant and almost distracted, as though this was part of a veterinary procedure.

Then he squirted almost half the tube of his lube onto his fingers and worked them inside Wesley, easing his arse open and sliding his slippery fingers into him as far as he could. Wesley gasped as his most sensitive, most personal area was penetrated and peered over his shoulder at me, still panting, to see if I was watching. I was, of course, and Wesley's face showed how uncomfortable he was with that. Not only was a part of him no-one had ever seen having another guy's fingers slurp their way in and out of it, but it was being done with a spectator. A spectator with an obvious arousal and a hand gently attending to it.

Michael's fingers probed deeper and Wesley's gasps became higher, almost feminine. His eyes were still on mine and he blushed at the uncontrollable sounds he was making.

I thought, "A three-day panel interview would be less gruelling than this..."

Michael squirted another dollop of lube onto his cock and smeared it around the rubbered shaft. He took the opportunity to masturbate himself a little, perhaps enjoying the sensation of lubed rubber around his cock or perhaps to bring himself back to full size.

Then Michael positioned the tip of his cock right up against Wesley's hole and said, "Okay, then... all ready... prepare to get butt-fucked..."

Wesley didn't say anything: he looked as if he was too carried away by his own thoughts. I knew what he was thinking - having been in his position, though under far more favourable circumstances, just a few years earlier. He was remembering all the times he and his mates at school had joked about other lads who 'bummed' each other, saying how disgusting it was and how they'd never do anything like that. And now here he was on a bed in a cheap hotel room in Bristol, bending forwards to allow some guy almost double his age to do exactly that to him.

All for the sake of a job which he might easily have got through normal channels anyway.

Michael pushed forward and a couple of inches of his cock slid into Wesley's hole. The lad farted loudly. It would have been comical in any other circumstances but none of us laughed now.

Michael pushed again and another inch or so slid into Wesley's arse. Wesley winced in pain and grunted, "Jesus!"

I called over, "Pretend like your taking a crap..."

Wesley looked over his shoulder at me, his face red and his eyes glowering. I suspected that maybe I ought to keep my advice to myself.

Michael laughed over at me, "You've done this too...?"

I shrugged. "Maybe once or twice... but not like this..."

Michael eased another inch of his cock into the arse in front of him and muttered, "How d'you mean, 'not like this'?"

I smiled. "Well... I didn't lose my virginity for business reasons... mine was entirely for pleasure..."

Wesley threw me another scalding look from over his shoulder. He mouthed, "Fuck you," but then realised how absurd it was to say that, being in the position he was in, and so turned to face forwards again.

Half of his cock now buried in the younger man's arse, Michael started gently sliding himself in and out, grabbing Wesley's hips to hold him steady.

He asked, "How's that feel?"

Wesley gasped, "Yeah, okay." His voice - almost a sob - made it sound like it was either not okay at all or extremely, ecstatically okay. I suspected the former.

But Michael seemed suitably reassured and started building up a rhythm, trying to push himself a little deeper on each thrust. Wesley's balls started jumping around and his cock, still limp and insubstantial, made little slapping noises as it whacked up against his stomach.

He let out another fart, much louder than the first, and apologised, looking crimson again.

Michael dismissed it. "Don't worry about it... it happens..."

As Michael's rhythm increased, Wesley began to grunt in pain. At first he began making occasional, low gasping noises but these became louder and more regular as the hammering at his arse became deeper and faster.

Although Michael was obviously enjoying the sensation of giving the guy a good fucking, the lad's obvious discomfort started putting him off. At first he suggested that he could wank him while he fucked him, but Wesley said, "I don't think it'd help... anyway, I'm soft as hell down there..."

So then Michael asked if moving onto the bed properly would help, giving his cock a higher angle or something, and they tried that. But still Wesley's painful noises continued: as much as he tried to stifle them, he found it impossible to silence them completely.

Michael suggested more lube but Wesley snapped, "Please... just finish it off... for God's sake..."

Michael tried to comply, fucking the lad in long fast strokes to try and bring his orgasm nearer, while his brief lover grunted like a pig in a trap. Wesley would look over at me occasionally, his eyes red with the pain, and glare with disgust at the bulge in my duvet under which my cock was being masturbated by my hand. I knew I shouldn't be aroused by what I was seeing, but I couldn't help myself. In the cold light of day, if someone had described to me the scene I was party to, I'd have been horrified and found the idea of anyone finding it even remotely sexual offensive. But in that room, watching Wesley take his first cock deep and hard, hearing the wet slapping sounds as Michael thrust it in and out of his arse, smelling the pungent mixture of rubber and the lad's anus which seemed to be smothering the room; well, I guess it kind of got to me!

Michael's rhythm began to increase and he grabbed Wesley's hips more firmly, his breathing quickening and his forehead starting to sweat. He slammed his cock so roughly into Wesley's arse that his balls, large and heavy, whacked against the tops of the lad's thighs with every thrust. He grunted, "Yeah... that's good..."

Then the headboard of the bed started beating against the wall, softly and intermittently at first, and then building up into a loud, rhythmic hammering. Wesley looked over at me and blushed again. Not only did he have just one spectator; half of the hotel would now be aware of his predicament. Many of the other people staying here were attending the same conference as us; I suspected there'd be many more blushes to come at breakfast the next morning.

Michael ignored it and fucked on, driving his cock in and out of the lad's arse as he headed towards his climax. I noticed his face was directed towards the ceiling and his eyes were closed. He was desperately trying to think of things to bring on his orgasm; looking at Wesley, grunting and wincing in front of him, evidently wasn't having that effect.

I think Michael was very close when Wesley farted for the third time. This one sounded different.

Wesley cried out, flushing scarlet again, "Oh shit, sorry, mate..."

Michael muttered, "Don't worry about it..." But then pulled his cock out of Wesley's hole and stripped off the condom quickly. He turned it inside-out and threw it on the floor. He pulled a couple of tissues out from the box on the bedside table and threw them over to Wesley. "Wipe yourself down... I'll finish myself off..."

Wesley made as if to get up but Michael said, "No... stay there..." Wesley nodded and remained on all fours, reaching around to his arse to wipe the lube and slime from it. This time he didn't look over at me.

I was thinking, "Maybe not quite as versatile as you thought you were, Wesley, mate..."

After Wesley had tossed the used tissues onto the floor, Michael stood behind him again and began masturbating himself over the lad's back. Like before, he closed his eyes tightly and faced up at the ceiling as his hand pumped away. His cock soon recovered from the shock of its premature withdrawal from Wesley's arse and stiffened back to its full impressive size in his hand. He was obviously imagining he was fucking someone, but that someone wasn't Wesley.

Wesley just stayed on all fours, like an obedient dog, waiting to feel the hot wet squirts from Michael's cock on his back. He faced forwards but his expression was sullen. This hadn't gone entirely to plan. It was supposed to end with the two of them finding dizzy new heights to their sexual pleasures; Michael crying out his name while Wesley simultaneously sprayed his own fountain ecstatically over the mattress. Instead Michael was reduced to wazzing himself off, desperately trying to think of something erotic to take him out of this unpleasant-smelling room, while Wesley just knelt there, waiting, exposing his wet gaping arsehole and his balls dangling beneath it.

Michael blew his load with a few terse, guttural grunts. His cock erupted violently, throwing strings and gobs of white semen right across Wesley's back. The lad was soon showered in Michael's cum.

Even before the man's orgasm had subsided, Wesley pulled himself out from under him and staggered into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Michael ignored him and continued milking his large cock, squeezing the last drops of cum from the red head and recovering his breath.

As he wiped himself with a couple of tissues, there were sounds from the bathroom of Wesley noisily using the toilet and then, a few seconds later, of retching.

Michael looked over at me and smiled. "Jesus. I'm not that bad, am I?"

I smiled. I was still gently playing with my cock beneath the duvet. "I was just thinking the opposite."

Michael grinned. "Yeah?"

I chuckled. "Yeah. I was just thinking that Wesley isn't the only one in the room with a fuckable arse..."

Michael laughed. "You should have said that about twenty minutes ago, mate..."

"I didn't want to piss on you guys' little party..."

Michael smiled and considered my possible motives. "Hmm... I don't know of any promotions coming up in your department..."

I shrugged. "Yeah and if there were, I'd apply in the normal way. To be honest, I don't go in for being interviewed bending over some hotel bed..."

He chuckled. "You don't approve of what we just did, Ollie... is that your point?"

I adjusted my duvet a little, taking my hand away from my cock. Then I replied, "I wasn't really making a point other than saying that I think you've got a sexy arse... I'm not going for a promotion or a pay rise or anything else... I just think you've got a nice bum, mate..."

Michael smiled at me warmly. "Okay... so maybe we should do something together tomorrow night, then?"

"Yeah. Why not."

He gestured to the bathroom, with the sounds of Wesley showering coming from behind the door, "And we'll send the little squirt home beforehand..."

I shook my head. "No. He should be there. He could learn something..."

"Like?"

"I dunno exactly. We'll see how things go. But we can't leave him feeling so disgusted about gay sex the way he must be right now..."

"Okay..."

I settled myself into the mattress beneath me, and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me... I'm gonna get some sleep..."

Michael nodded and said, "So we're on for tomorrow night? That's definite...?"

"Yeah."

"Purely for fun..."

"Of course..."

He smiled brightly again. "Nice one... see you in the morning..."

And I turned off the light over my bed and rolled over to get some sleep.

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In the third, concluding, part of "Bradley Stoke", Michael and I show Wesley how two guys can have some real fun together...

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Comments/suggestions always welcome: southwest_ollie@yahoo.co.uk Ollie's group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ollies-group/ Ollie's website: http://stories.remoworld.com