Bradley Stoke (Part 3 of 3) (c) Oliver Jennings, 2004
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As ulterior motives go, mine wasn't so ulterior. I didn't much like what either of them had done but I wasn't on some one-man mission put it all to rights. I just fancied a shot at Michael and also wanted to prove a point to Wesley. The fact that I thought I could accomplish both of those at the same time made the idea of giving it a try almost irresistible.
I wasn't too taken by what Michael had done but, I suppose, he'd gone into it assuming Wesley would, once he'd relaxed a little, begin to enjoy his first gay experience. It hadn't been Michael's fault that things had gone so badly wrong and that Wesley had ended up finding the whole thing so humiliating.
At the same time, I didn't regard Wesley as an angel. He'd known from the outset the terms of Michael's deal and had agreed to participate at every stage. He'd just thought he could use his body as a form of occupational currency without considering that his body might not be willing to play the game.
I guess I wanted to show Wesley that sex between men can be beautiful and important, if that doesn't sound too clichéd or immodest of me. Certainly I wanted to show him that it was too beautiful to be used as a bargaining tool and too important to be given away like it was candy.
I guess I'm just a morally-upstanding soul at heart!
In any case, even if Wesley didn't learn anything from it, the fun I'd have with Michael while I was trying to make my point to Wesley would, on its own, make it worthwhile.
I don't think Wesley had any idea as to what was going on between Michael and I until that second night when I walked out of the bathroom, stark naked, strolled over to Michael's bed and gave him one of the longest, deepest kisses I've ever given another guy. Even then I think the lad was too stunned to understand and just gawped at us from his bed as we started caressing each other's backs and arses, kneading each other's cocks and balls, moaning gently and tonguing nipples and armpits.
He kept staring at us - the first time that day he'd shown any emotion other than self-absorption - and no doubt wondered what had led to this; whether there was another London job that I might be interested in.
He'd got up that morning long before Michael and I and had been sitting out at the front of the hotel, staring impassively out into the car-park, when the two of us had gone down for breakfast.
At the end of our lunch break his mobile phone had rang with a call from his head of department. Wesley was to visit London head office for an informal chat the following week. Michael had smiled at him but Wesley had remained blank. After a couple of minutes silence, he muttered, "Thanks," and had then excused himself from our table.
Even in the restaurant as we were having a meal that evening, Wesley had said little. Michael and I had chatted amicably and I don't think Wesley had even noticed when the conversation had occasionally veered off to that strange, inimitable dialogue of ostensibly straight men flirting with one another.
So I guess the shock of seeing us get to work on one another, apparently without warning and right in front of him, was pretty dramatic. He was, quite literally, open mouthed; seeing, probably for the first time in his life, two men genuinely and unaffectedly enjoying each other's bodies.
Michael and I played around on the bed for a while together, giving Wesley time to digest the fact that two guys who he knew to be strongly attached to the women in their lives happened also to have no hang-ups about being naked, aroused and affectionate with one another. Michael would roll on top of me for a few moments and then I'd reverse things; our bodies would be intertwined one second and the two of us would be fighting for dominance the next; both of us chuckling and gasping as our stiff swollen cocks poked into one another and our heavy balls flopped around between us.
We lay together, chest against chest, for a few minutes while we ate at each other's mouths and our cocks, both throbbing and insistent, ground against each other between our stomachs. It felt so good to be like that with him, smelling that uniquely masculine mixture of sweat and precum, and feeling the strength of his toned body. I guess I mustn't have been with another guy like that for a couple of months right then - you kind of forget, when you're just sleeping with a woman night after night, how refreshing another man's body can be.
Wesley just kept staring. We started wrestling on the bed, playfully insulting one another and laughing like schoolboys. Michael's balls would thump against my face and then my cock would poke him in the arse. We lunged and grabbed at each other and then, when we were both breathless from our exertions and from laughing, we wrapped our fingers around each other's cocks and started masturbating one another.
We were kneeling on the bed at that stage, both facing Wesley with our cocks arching upwards towards him. He looked up at us and then down at the twin eyes of our cocks, blinking and unblinking as our foreskins were swept back and forth.
I smiled at him and he just stared at me. My face said, "This is how it should be," and I think he nodded.
I surprised Michael by lunging down at his cock and licking the dark red tip of it as I masturbated him. He laughed, "Ooh - keen, aren't ya," and I responded by pushing him backwards onto the bed, his hands supporting himself on the pillows, and went to work properly on him.
I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, tasting his salty precum and smelling his sweaty balls. I slurped up and down his length, allowing him to guide my rhythm with his hands on either side of my head. He began bucking his hips, slowly at first and then fast enough to make the headboard bang against the wall again, and I kept feeding at his cock like it was my last meal.
With my hands I played with his balls and then went beneath that to finger around the ring of his arse. He responded by moaning and gasping his approval, ramming his large, precum-oozing cock as deep into my mouth as he could.
After a minute or so, I worked my mouth down from his cock to lick at his damp, sweaty balls and then further underneath to tongue around his moist, musky-smelling anus. He grabbed his cock and masturbated himself roughly and furiously, crying out, "Yeah, yeah!" for half the hotel to hear.
After I'd spent a couple of minutes penetrating him with my tongue, intending to return before long with something more substantial, I emerged back into fresh air. He grinned at me, still frantically masturbating himself.
He muttered, between panting for breath, "You sure you're not after a promotion?"
I smiled, pulling myself up to kneel over him. "No. But I'm after this."
I grabbed his head and pulled him onto my cock. Even as it slid into him, I saw his smile broadening.
He adjusted his position and began sucking at me properly, working at my cock with his lips and tongue and betraying the fact that he'd had a lot of experience at this.
I looked over at Wesley, still lying in his bed, who was still staring at us as though mesmerised. I was surprised to see a mound in his duvet which was being worked gently but rhythmically by a hand beneath it. Perhaps he was getting something out of my little demonstration after all!
He broke his fixed gaze to look up at my face. Gently panting from the expert actions of Michael's mouth, I smiled at him again and, like before, he seemed to nod back. I wanted to say, "You don't suck a guy without getting sucked back, mate. It's how it works..." But I couldn't. I think he understood anyway.
Michael left my cock, as I had with his, to work his mouth down to my balls, sucking one and then the other as I began wanking myself. He seemed to enjoy rubbing his nose around my scrotum, as if inhaling the sweaty odours down there, and then moved further downward. Easing my legs open a little, he worked his face underneath me and reached his tongue upward to lick at my most sensitive spot. As he had been, I was in ecstasy. I jerked at my cock in a blur of motion, gasping for more.
He willingly obliged, driving his tongue into me through my tight anus, and then flicking it gently in and out of me I was almost screaming in pleasure; I was shouting, "Fuck me with it... go on... fuck me with it..."
He pushed deeper so that as much of it was inside me as he could get and then started sliding it in and out of me. I had to stop masturbating because I knew I would orgasm, so I just drove my arse onto his face, working my hole against his tongue, gasping and panting in pleasure.
Wesley was wide-eyed, staring at my unattended cock - arching, throbbing and weeping precum - as I cavorted my bum against Michael's face. No doubt he was wondering, "How can a straight guy be enjoying this so much...?" The mound inside his duvet, growing faster and faster, showed that he didn't need an answer.
Michael pulled out from my anus and stood up in front of me. We kissed deeply again, sharing the tastes of each other's cocks and arses inside our mouths, as our bodies pressed against one another, slick with sweat.
I gently eased him back down onto the bed, still kissing him, and then pulled a condom out from the packet on the bedside table. Before he could say anything, I tore it open and unfurled it down his large, stiff cock. He flashed me a grin of surprise.
Without using lube - his mouth had provided enough - I straddled him and lined his cock-head up with the opening of my arse. Then I pushed myself down onto him and, using the trick that Wesley had rejected on the previous evening, accommodated a good six inches of his length smoothly and easily.
I held him clamped inside me, squeezing his cock with my anal muscles, and Michael groaned in pleasure. He muttered, "Jesus, that feels good," and I eased another inch of him into me.
I looked over at Wesley who was still fascinated by us. His fist made a regular thumping noise from inside his duvet as he watched Michael's cock slide into me and then his eyes moved upward to my cock. It stood upwards from my thighs, still fully aroused as I was being penetrated, and I knew - since I'd had enough practice at this to be able to control it - that it would stay that way. Wesley just peered at it, as if waiting for it to soften, but it stayed at full mast.
I sighed, for the benefit of both of them, "Yeah... it feels great..."
Then I started moving up and down, squeezing Michael's cock with my arse as I did so, riding him as he moaned and smiled up at me.
After a minute or so, he took control and began bucking his hips to drive his cock in and out of me. Like he'd said to Wesley, he liked it rough, and soon the friction of the condom slurping in and out of my arse arse mixed with the sweat from both of us and filled the room with a thick, cloying odour. I saw Wesley sniff it and inwardly acknowledge its similarities to his version on the previous evening. It seemed to cause his fist to get even faster and the beating from his duvet turn into a loud, regular thumping.
My cock was now straining, demanding release, and curved upwards insistently from my balls which slapped against Michael's stomach.
Rather than masturbating it, I pulled upwards from Michael's cock and, gesturing for him to flip over onto all fours, I unfurled a condom down it and pushed it into his arsehole. He gasped and then laughed, "Jesus, mate - talk about liking it both ways!"
I grabbed onto his hips and started fucking him just as roughly as he'd fucked me. He grunted his approval and started masturbating himself. He was gasping, "Ah... yeah... go for it..."
I literally pummelled the guy - our balls were banging together between his thighs and the headboard banged against the wall like someone hammering in an endless nail. Now Michael's most private scent, base and pungent, filled the room.
I looked over at Wesley and his face was agog. His expression said, "I didn't know you could do that... I'd have done that..." He looked up at my face and seemed indignant; almost angry.
Perhaps as a way of reaffirming his masculinity, he yanked the duvet away from himself to reveal what was going on beneath it. He had a cock that, had he chose to use it on the previous evening, would have made Michael's eyes water. The insubstantial droop that had almost disappeared into his pubes the previous night had somehow transformed into an eight or nine inch towering erection.
He masturbated it quickly, peering over at me fucking Michael, pausing only occasionally to watch beads of precum ooze from the tip of the bulbous, purple head.
His eyes looked back up at me and seemed more confident. They said, "You might think you know how to fuck a guy, but, once I learn a few moves, this piece of kit will go a lot deeper..."
A little of the old self-assured Wesley was back and I was pleased.
Michael fucked me standing up between our beds and then I fucked him with him lying on his back like a woman. All the time Wesley watched us and wanked that huge cock of his.
Michael and I climaxed pretty much together while we were in an embrace - kissing and holding one another, masturbating our cocks between our sweat-streaming stomachs - and Wesley's own larger fist-battered erection erupted its white fountain just seconds later.
We were all pretty quiet with each other until breakfast the next morning.
Wesley broke the silence as we tucked into our fry-up by saying, "I don't know if I'll go for that chat with that guy in London..."
Michael looked surprised. "Oh?"
Wesley nodded. "Yeah. If the job comes up properly - you know, through normal channels - I might go for it... but I don't want to get it through your recommendation... it doesn't seem fair..."
Michael stared at him and then back at his breakfast. "Okay..."
After a couple of minutes - I think, over the toast - Michael asked, "Do you think what I did wasn't fair?"
Wesley shook his head. "No... you were playing a game and I agreed to join in... that was fair... it's just, well... if I took the job after getting it that way, I wouldn't feel right about it..."
Michael nodded. "Okay..."
Wesley looked at us both and smiled. "But you guys were pretty cool last night..."
I smiled back. "Yeah...?"
"Yeah... I'd go for that again," Wesley said, testingly. "As long as it was just for a laugh, like you guys did..."
Michael looked even more surprised. "Are you serious?"
Wesley chuckled. "Yeah... any more conferences and stuff... count me in..."
Michael smiled. "Okay... I guess we could say you need more practice at going to corporate meetings, or whatever..."
Wesley grinned coyly. "After the other night, I think we all know I need more practice, mate..."
Michael laughed. "Well, I'd be happy to give you some training..."
Wesley looked at me and I nodded, saying, "It was pretty clear last night that you've a lot of potential..."
And it was just a couple of months before the three of us returned to Bradley Stoke.
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