A disclaimer first: there's a fuckload of bareback sex and drug-taking in the following story. Use your head when having sex, and don't break laws in your own country. If you're too young to be reading this - Stop.
Parts of this come from my real experiences. Parts are fantasy. If you need to get some real info on drugs, there's a great website for that: www.talktofrank.com
Send your thoughts and feedback to shangarron@gmx.net
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Previously...
Blair's cock, lubed with spit and Pedro's cum, felt massive inside me, I could feel his cock swelling up against my insides. I quickened the pace once more pulling my fingers out and then shoving them roughly back in again. Davie grunted and then set to work getting Blair to copy my rhythm. Blair needed no encouragement. He thrust quicker and deeper into me, and as he got close to the point of no return, I grabbed my cock out of Davie's mouth and pulled him around to face me. Then as Blair pounded my ass while he came, I kissed his beautiful boyfriend and started to cum myself. I could feel every drop of Blair's juice's hit my ass-walls as I started to lose it myself and cum a full-body orgasm all the while looking into Davie's wonderful blue eyes. I came all over Davie's stomach and he chuckled at my orgasm face. Then, looking down at the jiz he said "pity, next time I want that inside me". I smiled, raised and eyebrow and said "does that mean I have the room?"
Right so...
My name's Stuart and I'm right now negotiating my rent with landlords. You could say at the moment, on the negotiation front, they've got me royally fucked. Not just about paying separate electricity and water bills, but properly fucked, cause right at this point one of `em was pulling their softening cock out of my ass and the other still had half my fist up his. And since they'd called me out on being high and used that as leverage to get a (very willing) fuck out of me, I had no idea whether they'd kick me out right there and then, or whether I'd get a full-on discount. However the lads seemed to be in the more blissful side of stoned and Davie turned to me with his gorgeous baby blues and said "Look Stu, we won't lie to ya, we can only rent out this room in summer cause it's a fuckin icebox in the winter. Not even the fireplace makes a huge difference. The last flatmate was actually convinced the room was haunted". I was a bit taken aback by his honesty but fair fucks to him. I said "Well, how about I give it a shot for now" and I cleared my throat a little "ahem, for a, ahem, very, ahem, reasonable price". Blair and Davie smiled at me and I went on, "and if there's any really fucking freezing nights where I've nowhere else but this bed to be in..." and just then I started to use my forefinger to rub Davie's prostate applying pressure to that hard node ...till my fingers slipped past, and then repeated the motion rhythmically. I continued "then maybe my landlords would be so kind as to provide me with a warm space in their bed, or sling, or just one of their tight assholes for the night..." Then dismounting from the bed and my position over Davie, I said "I'll give you boys some time to discuss this" and with my free hand I guided Davie's still hard, coke can of a cock into my mouth.
I won't lie, I knew I wasn't going to get him off from just blowing him. You can generally tell the type of guy who you can spend hours spit-polishing the knob of and eventually they'll just pat you on the head and take over and jack off. However, his cock fascinated me, it wasn't any run-of-the-mill average baby maker, this cock was a fucking Stradivarius of cocks -- it's one of those ones that you need to spend time with and figure out its temperament, figuring out the answers to questions like; how much attention should you apply to the wide sturdy shaft? In blowjobs, should you rake your teeth along the banjo string or spend more time on the ridge of the head? Was there a decent way to work it up into my ass without too much pain? And so on... And I was up to the challenge of answering all those questions and more for such a full-on beauty of a man and a cock. While I was sucking on Davie's ass-splitter of a wide-cock, I broke off occasionally to move my head up and down his tight six pack and lick off my own cum. I tried my "Stuart's patented tongue motion ™" while blowing him, but this was nigh impossible cause of Davie's girth -- I just couldn't keep my tongue firm against that monster flared head inside my mouth. I just enjoyed the incredible sense of fullness having a cockhead that simultaneously rubbed the roof and tongue of my gaping mouth, and so I kept on sloppily blowing him like an eager teenager.
After a long while, the sides of my cheeks were getting sore -- it made me start to consider that there may be truth to that joke -- why do gay men wear moustaches? To hide the stretch marks! I pulled off of him for a bit and had been successfully tuning out him and Blair muttering to each other. At this point though my actions had obviously become too distracting for them so Blair started working his fingers back up my ass to get out some of his cum and feed it to Davie. I meanwhile started working my tongue lower over Davie's balls, and started lapping down his taint to his hole again. Here I worked my still pumping hand out and licked Davies juices off of my fingers -- fuck he tasted good -- there was this earthy "cumin"-y flavour to his sweat and down straight from his ass, it was like I was sniffing straight from the spice jar. I replaced my hand with my tongue and started reattacking his ass with fervour. The contrast between his slightly stubbly hole and his silky insides was driving me mental -- if I could have defied physics and shoved my whole head up there I would have. As it was, after a long frenzied licking I felt the weight shift on the bed. I looked up to see Blair deep-throating Davie like a pro. I felt a twinge of something -- I guess I felt a bit sad I couldn't bob up and down that easily on that masterpiece -- yet! -- Blair looked at me with a bit of a challenge in his eyes -- maybe he was responding to my envious look. Davie grabbed me by the hair and shoved me roughly back to his hole. He was close, and shortly after, with a short stifled "fuuu-uuh-uuh-uck", Davie's ass-cheeks clamped on my face as his whole body shook and he came straight down Blair's throat. Davie had been pretty sparse with words all day and it seemed even his orgasms were a quiet affair.
After we disentangled Blair told me as he wiped some cum from the side of his mouth, "look lad, you seem like a nice enough kid, but we've just met you and you're coked off your head, however you more than did yourself proud here, and I know myself and Davie want to take turns on that arse a few more times", Davie nodded and I made a private note to my ass (soon my precious -- soon you'll have Davie's gorgeous cock up ya!). Davie left for the bathroom next door. Blair continued "...so here's what we'll do. You keep yourself clean here, in this house with no complaints from the others and by the time winter rolls round we'll find some ways of keeping you warm" he laughed, "but if you turn out to be another lying fucking junkie, you're out on your..." he took a breath, looking down slowly, "...your admittedly fine arse"
With that he left the room to clean up in the bathroom after Davie came back. Davie passed me some tissues for my leaking hole. "Thanks", I replied and cleaned up a bit and dressed again. Davie had pushed the bed back against the wall -- it had moved out while we fucked. I walked around the bed to face him. I looked up into his sparkling blue eyes and there it was again -- that jolt of connection. I whispered "I'd really like to spend some time with you Davie". I moved up to him and ran my finger down the side of his face, down his elegant neck to his hairless chest, now nearly fully covered again by that fitted shirt. I leant in and kissed the nape of his neck tenderly. "God, you're beautiful" I moaned, nuzzling my nose up past his jaw to his ears. I whispered "it's not only that your cock is magnificent, nor that I'm going to love to work at stretching out that ass as far as I can." I chuckled as I licked the curve of his ear "In fact I'd love you to take my fist virginity." I felt his thumb trace down my cheekbone and the tip of his thumb moved a circle round my lips. I moved my face so that our forehead were touching and looked directly into his twinkling eyes, his thumb wet as it pressed my lower lip. I muttered "But it's just this ...feeling of connection. I mean, damn, if you were my fella...". Davie's eyes glittered a little hard and his index finger moved up to cover both my lips in the classic "shh" motion. He pushed me back gently but firmly and quietly said "Stuart you're a nice lad, but lets not let the coke fuck up a nice budding friendship, your confidence is attractive, but most of it is chemical right now". He looked down to my hands and covered them with his, and then continued, "and you best be warned, we play quite rough in our household, so think carefully about who you want to stay with in winter. We won't be offended if you can't handle our play..." I cut him off with a kiss, pushing him back against the wall. His mouth opened up to me and I slipped my tongue in past his soft lips and next thing, we were battling it out both passionately tongue against tongue, jaws working, licking, tasting, sucking... With that we heard the bathroom door close and quickly we both went back to rearranging the room. When Blair came back in the room, Davie went up to me and gave me a set of keys and walked over to Blair. The older man said "we'll be in touch" and the two left.
I looked at my phone - it was 8.30pm and there was an odd symbol bleeping the corner of the screen. It was a picture message from Pedro. I opened it to see a hot older bear -- a tiny pot-belly on him but pretty fit, mid-40s, a goatee, a wicked grin and a close-cropped Caesar haircut, like that one that George Michael had for a little while when he was still famous and not a mess. He was topless and holding a syringe in his hand pointing to the only part of Pedro in the pic -- all nine inches of it - which the older guy was holding in his other hand. The text below it said "Getting favours and Caverject for tonight. Will have a few lads over. Come a.s.a.p. Bring a friend. P." What the fuck was Caverject? And who the fuck could I bring to this party? I looked through the names of my phone -- I put an X beside the phone numbers of hook-ups I didn't know that well -- like "Clyde X" or "Gavin X". Although neither of those would do -- Clyde was a prude who only liked vanilla and safe and I was guessing Pedro wouldn't be up for accommodating him. Gavin -- well Gavin was also a no-go.
Gavin was an undertaker's assistant and part-time bus-driver who I hooked up with once in the Revolver (a sleazy enough gay pub in town -- now called the Underground). It was one of those hook-ups that promised a lot -- we'd met over the pool table as I challenged him for control of the table -- in the Revolver back a few summers ago there was a tradition that you had to beat the guy currently playing on the table to take it over. Gavin was over 6 and half feet tall, pasty and had big geeky ears sticking out but looked pretty well built under his Reebok tracksuit, and I was drunk and horny enough to think "fuck it - he'll do", so I turned the charm on. He jokingly bet me a drink if I won, and when he asked me what his prize would be I raised my eyebrows and said "my arse". He nearly spat his drink out with that but laughed and said "you're on". I quickly "lost" and he came up to me and said "when do I collect my prize?" I laughed and replied "your place? Now?" Fuck -- I'm taking too long with this story -- it doesn't have a happy ending, sad to say -- Gavin turned out to live in the fucking Red Road tower apartments -- the fucking Red Road! -- It's fucking junkie central, massive high-rise tower blocks full of people who are too poor to have anywhere else to go -- now thankfully being demolished as they'd become a popular place for people who'd had enough of Glasgow's most depressing place to live; where all the hope gets knocked out of ya before you're old enough to leave, and jumped off the top of the 30-floor buildings. As we walked through the dark streets, when he wasn't regaling me with some fucked-up fact known only to undertakers, Gavin was groping me where and whenever he could. I obviously was a bit wary of the gangs hanging on the street corners, ready for some abuse to be hurled our way -- he said "don't worry, they know I'm one of their faggots". I always found that funny -- that the gangs chose not to gaybash their own fags, just other ones. Sorry -- I'm dragging this tale out again -- suffice to say we got back to his, he turned out to have a lovely big knob, but was an exclusive bottom, so I flipped Lurch round and fucked him for all I was worth. The next morning I was woken up to his mum coming into the room with a tray for breakfast in bed for the both of us! She said something like "well I knew you had company from the sounds last night". I was trying to hide under the covers totally mortified! Worse still, after she left, Gavin kept talking about how special last night was, and how he couldn't wait to introduce me to his friends, and how my place was close to his bus route terminus. I fuckin ran out of that place -- well not literally, but I made my excuses and got the fuck out of dodge. The only reason I kept the number was to warn myself not to engage, as he still -- two years later -- sent me little longing texts full of fucking emoticons and warmly remembering our night making love. For fuck's sake like! I still avoid the bus.
Anyways I got off topic. Clyde and Gavin were far from the only X's on my phone. In fact someone normal may say I had a problem -- as over half my address-book was full of X's. I liked to call myself "hypersocial". I always liked to meet up with new people, try new things and always gave a new fetish a go, just don't try to tie me down the morning after, like Gavin (fuck's sake!). Also in my defense, I often kept the numbers of hook-ups in other parts of the country or down in England. Especially if the dick was "right"! As far as I was concerned if the dick is right, you can hang on to that number for a few years, and try your luck next time you're in the area. I knew I wasn't half-bad in bed, cause I had more than a few fuckbuds who were like that with me -- texting me out of the blue after two years cause they were in town. I was scrolling through my contacts after Gavin and got to "H" and there was Hero X -- or as I knew him- Harry. Harry was a lad I met in the local sauna cruising. Harry was a half Lebanese-half Scottish hipster type (before hipsters) whose hippy parents named him Hero after the original Hero and his sister was called Artemis. Poor fuckers! She went by Artie and he went by Harry now so I should really have recorded him as that, but I already had a Harry X (who was a foot fetishist in Dundee. That Harry always gave me new pairs of socks when we met, so he could keep mine -- very handy!).
Harry and I originally first met in a cubicle where he fucked me. We were the only two lads in our twenties in darkrooms in Pipeworks. He loved going down on my sizable knob -- I don't think I've described it till now, but I was about 7.5 inches with a bit of a curve to the left like a banana. I wasn't "cut" per se, but I didn't have a much of a foreskin, so the head was always on show. Guys liked it as it hit all the right spots when fucking. Meanwhile, I loved the look of this little hipster dude -- he had curly hair he left grow on top but kept short on the back and sides, which gave him that romantic poet/starving artist look. He was a bit on the swarthy side cause of his Lebanese background, lean body covered in black hair, tight fuckin ass and a nice cock and sleazy as fuck like me. When we met the first time he lead me into the cubicle and after he blew me for a while, he bent me over so my face was facing the gloryhole while he fingered me. He whispered in my ear in his thick Glasgow accent "be sure to blow anyone who tries it -- I want a show", while tearing open the sachet of lube we got given at the entrance. Two guys did indeed try it and they must have been able to tell I was getting pounded from behind from the jerky half-assed blowjobs I gave them. One eventually left, but the other managed to cum from my divided attention. Like I gave a fuck to be honest, they were just props for Harry and I.
Actually when I met Harry first, I thought he was a little aloof -- turns out he was just like me -- the way I was to Gavin -- up for fun, but just fun. At the time we were both heavily involved in college life and had a busy social life, we tended to keep our fuck-buddies at a distance, just cause we had too much going on. However we kept on bumping into each other online, in the sauna or the sleazy cinema, so that eventually one evening we agreed to go back to his place proper. When I went there we got stoned and chilled, fucked a little - taking turns (he was vers like me) and we bonded while he tried to teach me the wonders of P.J. Harvey's back catalogue and I kept beating him on Mario Kart. It was there I met his sister -- who was a cool fuckin artist chick and who still called him Hero. All in all I'd known Harry about a year and half and I knew he would be just the type who'd be up for Pedro's little gathering -- and while he mightn't try all the drugs on offer (still hadn't a clue what Caverject was -- and this was just before smartphones -- you could record videos or listen to the radio on your phone but the internet was still pretty rubbish) he'd be happy to do his thing and not be intimidated by those doing stronger drugs. I texted him "hey lad, u up 4 a bit of a session?" and after a few minutes we had the following back and forth:
Harry: "what u mean?"
Me: "know a hot Spanish lad, wants to have a session"
Harry: "wots he like?"
Me: "fit bod, big dick, bit of a coke head, has two or three more lads visiting too"
Harry: "and them?"
Me: "one is a youngish bear, dunno the others"
Harry: "what's the name of the lads? Do they have gaydar profiles?"
Y'see back then, judging a potential fuck was all about checking out their Gaydar profile. If you went to the continent you could use Gayromeo, maybe Manhunt (though it was never that great in Europe), but Gaydar was the one to use in the British Isles. This was before Grindr. I emailed on to Harry the link to Pedro's Gaydar account that just had pics of his dick and body and a list of his sexual preferences (which were very wide) and in the "Looking for" section was only "a tight ass to fuck, no drama". Sure enough, shortly after I sent Harry the profile I got a call from him. Without typical introductions he launched in, "nice fucking cock" he said, "and you think the other guys will be like him?" he asked. I replied "I'd say so" thinking of Andrew and the other Northern Irish guy who's been filmed by Pedro. Harry's voice quivered a little "fuck dude, this is getting me hot, I can already see a wet patch in my jocks, but I dunno about the drugs." I laughed loudly, "look don't worry about the drugs, my fuckbuddy Andrew doesn't do too much, so I'd say Pedro's used to having orgies or groups or whatever you want to call this - evening entertainment - with people with all different tastes together". Harry took a deep breath and said "Fuck it, lets do this. Can you meet me in 30 minutes at Buchanan?" Buchanan St. Station was about halfway from where Harry was in the west-side to where we were, so it was fair I meet him there to bring him to Pedro's. I hung up, grabbed my bag and headed toward the door. As I passed through the downstairs hall I thought I saw a flash of movement from the door to Emmett's room - the male nurse. "Hello!?" I said to the hall, "Is anyone here?". No movement. Maybe it was nothing. "Fuck this" I thought, and I went to meet Harry - tonight was gonna be the fucking tops.