The usual warnings: this is pornography, written specifically for private masturbation. Do not read if it might offend. This particular story is longer than I am used to writing, and will therefore be published in five parts rather than in one hit. That said, it remains in essence a simple story leading to a single event. If you take the time to read on, many thanks.
jsmith381@hotmail.com
Rory's Bat
PART TWO
Over the summer we went out to gay clubs and bars together every Friday night and many Saturday nights. We were always working Saturdays and Sundays at the garden centre - weekends always being the busiest times in summer - and so every morning after a night out we met at the coffee place before work to catch up and compare scores. As July turned into August I realised a number of things. First that this idyllic lifestyle - a good friend, nights out and lots of sex - couldn't last much longer as we were both off to separate universities at the end of September; and second that the constant diet of hard outdoor work and hard partying had left me the slimmest I had ever been and with hard muscles and a good suntan as well. Rory felt the same, and he suggested that a couple of nights in the week we could go swimming or to a gym or something, to start some good habits that might enable us to keep our pretty hot bodies when we slipped into the lazy hedonism of university. "We gotta keep up our strike rate, mate!" he laughed.
I guess he was sort of right. We never established it properly in our weekly routine, but a few times we did go swimming and tried to look cool in the gym. Spending time with Rory at work and outside made me realise a third thing, namely that hanging around with him was great fun, and unless I'd picked a guy who'd scored 8 or 9 the night before, I enjoyed the morning-after chats with Rory at the coffee place just as much. There weren't many 8s or 9s though, and no 10s at all. Rory kept track of this kind of thing, and he was able to tell me that my average score was 6 while his was about 6 and a half.
One Friday night late in August we'd had a great time chatting to some American guys in a bar who were over to start uni here but had come a month or so early so they could get round and "see Europe". I'd laughed a bit at the thought of trying to see Europe in just four weeks and that triggered a good-natured chat for a couple of hours. Rory was getting on well with one called Brad or Jared or something, and there were three others, of whom a really blond one called Toby had set my pulse a notch higher than usual. The other two seemed quite happy to chat to each other when the group wasn't being raucous, and when Brad/Jared asked if we knew a club we could go onto, we got everyone moving to the club Rory and I had gone to that first night of our new friendship.
In the club everything went great. I was getting on with Toby like a house on fire, and there was no doubt on either side that as soon as we got the chance we were going to be having a lot of very good sex. We danced shirtless on the dance floor and stopped drinking alcohol so we wouldn't be too drunk to enjoy ourselves. As we gyrated and snogged ever more sweatily, I bumped into another dancer. I muttered sorry automatically, looking at him only afterwards. It was Richard, the 6 out of 10 from the first night of mine and Rory's club regime.
He smiled in recognition but said nothing, nothing that is until the dance floor was so crowded that we had collided about four times. I was so totally into Toby that I didn't care about shoving Richard, but Richard seemed to think that we were now due some kind of conversation. I threw my sweaty arms round Toby and snogged him violently to try and send Richard packing, but he seemed determined to say something, I think because the guy he looked like hooking up with didn't rate more than a 4 on the looks front, and maybe he was thinking that breaking up me and Toby was a way he might make a better night of it.
"We had a good time that night, yeah?" Richard half-shouted over the music, while Toby was grinding his crotch into my leg and tonguing my ear.
"Yeah I guess," I replied half-heartedly, giving all my attention to Toby's nipples.
This continued for about five minutes until Toby just turned to Richard and said, in his beautiful East coast accent, "listen, ass, we've got plans tonight and they don't involve you. Go find someone else to drool over."
Richard practically lifted off the floor as he flounced on the spot in a terribly queeny way. "Oh! Right! Well, a little warning to you, you Yankee wanker: you picked the wrong one. This guy's mate has the best cock in England, and you picked the wrong one. Remember that as you're sucking on a very average cock tonight." And then he stormed off, trying to put his t-shirt back on.
I was thrown a lot by this comment. I wanted to shout back across the dance floor that I actually had a larger cock than Richard himself, and ask him how the hell did he remember anything from that time, seeing as he was drunk. Paranoia swept through me as I thought Toby might back out of a night of sex with me if he thought I had a small cock. "Tobes," I said, "honest, don't listen to him. And don't you worry, either. Look." I unzipped and pulled out my aching hard shaft, right there on the dance floor. "Not too bad, no?"
Toby laughed. "Fuck no! Looks awesome. Lets go and do this properly."
As we made our way out of the club, I was still troubled by what Richard had said. Rory and I had wondered if it were possible that any of the guys we had pulled had overlapped. We never really watched each other choosing guys, just heard about them next morning. It wouldn't have surprised me if Rory had gone back to Richard's flat at some point, as Richard was tall and good looking, with smart expensive clothes and an assured manner. But I wondered why it hadn't been clear the next morning as Rory described his night before. Well, often Rory got so drunk he couldn't remember even the most basic details, so maybe that wasn't a mystery. But what the fuck had Richard meant by saying that Rory had the best cock in England?
Until that point I had quite honestly never considered Rory as a sexual object. He was my friend, and worth ten times his weight in gold in that capacity. I had in fact never wondered what kind of dick Rory had. I'd seen it a few times, in the shower and the locker room after swimming and the gym, but it had seemed like a normal British soft cock. About four inches, uncircumcised, quite plump, hanging over a nice full shaved ballsac. And with a neatly trimmed bush. All rather like mine in fact. If Rory had the best cock in England, it certainly must flesh out a lot when he got stiff.
But Toby was unconcerned with both Richard and Rory, and in fact with anything other than getting me back to his hotel room. At the exit to the club we bumped into Rory and Toby's mate Brad/Jared. (I still didn't know what his name was).
"Hey guys!" cried Rory. "You got the same idea as us?"
"I reckon so," laughed Toby, kissing my neck.
"In which case, we got a problem," said Brad/Jared, looking at Toby. "Who gets our room?"
"What about your friends' room?" I asked.
Toby replied, "you reckon they'd let one of us use it, Brad?"
(Ah! So his name's Brad!)
"No," said Brad. "Because they left half an hour ago with their tongues down each other's throats. My guess is they're already banging like rabbits."
Toby smiled. "How well do you two guys know each other?" he asked, looking at me and Rory. "You're good friends, yeah?"
"Yeah sure," said Rory, smiling. "No worries, if you're suggesting what I think you are."
Brad smiled too. "Cool! Two beds; problem solved. Just don't look at the other bed. Come on, let's get a cab."
I felt a thrill. I had never done anything like this before. Usually I picked a guy, let him take me to his flat and then let him fuck me, hard, several times. Then I would meet Rory and chat about it. That was it. I'd never seen Rory in a sexual situation, nor even thought about him in such a way; I'd never had a three- or more-some, nor really even wanted to; and I'd certainly never had sex with someone else in the room. But here we were, two wildly snogging Anglo-American couplings in the back of a cab on the way to a hotel room with two beds, where Toby and I were going to do whatever we would have done under normal circumstances, only with Rory and Brad doing their thing on the neighbouring bed. Was that cool, or what? My 19-year old brain surged with the excitement.
We fell out of the taxi and Brad fumbled through a stack of British banknotes. Toby and I were already in the lift when Rory and Brad entered the lobby. Our lift doors closed, leaving them to wait for another, and we were undressing each other even before the lift had stopped at the right floor. In through the room door we tumbled, trying to step out of jeans and t shirts etc and by the time we reached Toby's bed we were laughing as we tried to undo shoes and belts properly. We'd got down to boxers only as we ground our erections into each other, and were kissing deeply and moaning when the door burst open and the light snapped on. Brad and Rory fell into the room. They'd obviously been making out against the door and then accidentally opened it, and their laughter was so much Toby and I looked up. Rory was already shirtless and Brad's jeans were at his ankles. Before they got anywhere near Brad's bed, I saw Rory yank Brad's shorts down and start energetically sucking on the clean cut dick that sprang into view. Brad dragged him past me and Toby, while killing the main light and getting the soft lamps on instead. Then we were away. There was just the sound of slurps and moans and "oh yeah"s from both beds.
Toby and I had long since lost our boxers as we had settled initially into a 69, and as Toby's mouth had crept round to my ass I suspected he would rim me, and hopefully then fuck me. His body was hot, clean, tight and muscly. His dick was hard and cut and his nuts were full. His hair was amazingly blond, and it shone in the lamplight and I looked along his back to his head right down between my legs, his tongue running round my hole. Oh fucking hell yeah. Then his tongue probed inside my ring and I relaxed backwards, blissing out.
"Holy Jesus Fucking Christ on a stick," cried Brad from the other bed.
Toby and I looked over.
Rory was sitting back against the pillows with his legs spread, smiling. Brad, naked and on his knees between Rory's legs, had just pulled Rory's boxers off. An absolutely monster erection had bounced back and slapped Rory's stomach. It was achingly hard, thicker than his wrist and longer than anything I had ever even imagined. His piss slit was easily seen spewing precum over his stomach because frankly his foreskin came nowhere near being able to cover his aggressively flared bell end. Brad tentatively tried to prise the shaft away from Rory's body a little, but it was almost too hard to move, and besides Brad couldn't get his hand anything like all the way around it at the base.
"Is it real?" whispered Brad in wonder.
It leaned very slightly to the left, towards me and Toby. Rory still said nothing, breathed deeply and with great satisfaction, and his cock throbbed angrily a few times. It flushed red as these extra surges of blood stiffened it further. Rory's balls were normal size, and in fact they looked a bit silly and small next to this unbelievable endowment, but that was really the only negative thing you could say. Rory's average size frame, slim build and trimmed bush made it look even more unnaturally huge. But even if Rory were 6-foot-6 and built to match, it would still have been a glorious, Olympic standard cock. As it was, it was simply incredible.
"Course it's fucking real," said Rory, with a snigger. "And it still needs suckin."
"Like tryin to suck a fuckin baseball bat," groaned Brad.
Brad took hold of the shaft with both hands and pulled it gently away from Rory's flat stomach. Rory moaned as Brad licked his precummy slit, then eased back the substantial foreskin flap and washed his tongue all over the huge glassy helmet.
"Yeah..." crooned Rory.
"I think that's about all I can do with one that big," sighed Brad. "No way can I even get the helmet in my mouth." Brad started to lick the length of the awesome rod, starting with his tongue buried in Rory's ballsac then running it right up to the tip. Rory purred each time. I was captivated and astonished.
It was Toby who dragged me back to where we were, by restarting his assault on my anus with his beautiful tongue. The side-show of Rory's dick over, we left Brad to do whatever he could. Toby and I moved back into a 69 and sucked hungrily for our first orgasm, which arrived about ten delicious minutes later. Brad and Rory cheered a bit and we looked over, panting and flushed, to see them still in the same position, Brad just licking Rory's rod like an ice cream. As Brad swung round so he could get his dick in the area of Rory's mouth, Toby and I sparked up cigarettes and chatted softly, trying not to look over at the circus show in the next bed. Rory had Brad's dick right down his throat while Brad was still teasing and licking and playing with both hands and his tongue up the other end on that obscene schlong.
I would have had much much more interest in what they were doing had Toby not been such a fantastic partner. He was easily a 10, maybe higher if that was possible. Toby smiled and kissed me hard before he dropped between my legs, raised my knees up to my chest so my hole was exposed and vulnerable, and went back to his rimming like a ferret down a rabbit hole. As I gasped out loud, I heard Brad shoot a load deep into Rory's throat, but I wasn't bothered about what they were up to any more. Toby swapped his tongue for two fingers and he we snogged deeply for some time while our erections throbbed and Toby's fingerfuck relaxed my hole, leaving it eager for something bigger. When our first fuck started, I wouldn't have cared if the whole world was watching. Toby slipped his hard bareback shaft deep inside me and we began a ride that lasted for a long time, switching positions when our limbs got tired, not worried about anything expect prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible. We shot our loads in a fantastic burst of energy a couple of minutes apart, me holding Toby's cock and juice deep inside me as he jacked me off over our stomachs. When we got our breath back, we noticed that Brad and Rory were gone; into the bathroom it seemed, considering how much grunting and groaning was coming from there.
"You fucking randy fucker," said Toby, sighing. "Wanna go again?"
It went on all night. Toby was not quite the best lover I ever had, but he had a good tight young body, a perpetually hard cock and buckets of enthusiasm and imagination. We were just two very horny young guys who had hooked up and found ourselves ideally matched for the best sex. For our third romp I drilled Toby doggie until his ring squeezed another load out of me and he sprayed over the bed. We slept for about 45 minutes but were woken by a roar from Brad, who was now back in the next bed with Rory. This got Toby and I hot again, and we spent the next hour sucking and rimming each other till another pair of watery climaxes washed over us. My balls were empty, but I still couldn't get enough of Toby, and about 6am he fucked me again, this time with me on the receiving end of a lengthy doggie fuck, my ass high in the air, my face against the bed, twisted to one side so I could breathe. During this fuck I looked over again at Brad and Rory, who were in exactly the same position as me and Toby were. The two American boys shagged the two Brit boys as hard as they could, competing with each other, yahoo-ing like fake cowboys at the rodeo, while Rory and I laughed at each other, enjoying the hard yank cocks deep in our cunts and the looks of bliss on each other's faces. We both wanked ourselves to a final climax under the thrusting and pounding of our fuckers.
The four of us had somehow managed to shower sort of together in the bathroom, and Rory and I strolled together to work a short time later, while Toby and Brad had fallen into a deep sleep even before we had left their hotel room. We had an arrangement to meet with them again as soon as we had finished at the garden centre, but Rory and I were both more worried about staying awake through the day. As we grabbed our usual coffee before work, Rory said to me, "you had a fucking great time last night, didn't you?"
"Oh Christ, yeah!" I beamed, yawning. "Balls are squeezed dry. Best ever, by miles. Toby was a10 at least, pushing 12 I reckon." But I changed my tone when I realised there was something sad in Rory's face. "Why? Didn't you? Brad looked as hot as fuck, I thought."
"Oh yeah, he was hot, no doubt. But, well, you've seen now, haven't you? Now you know?"
"Know what? That you're hung like a god? Why did you keep that a secret? What did you think I was going to do?"
"Mate, I just wanted you to be my friend, and well, I thought, you know..." Rory trailed off, embarrassed.
"You thought, if I knew you had a freakshow dick in your pants, that I'd go all lust crazy for it, then we'd end up having some cheap and meaningless shag, and then we'd both feel embarrassed and drift apart from being friends?"
Rory smiled. "Yeah, pretty much. Well all except for the shag. Shallow of me eh? I should think higher of you than that I guess."
"Nah," I laughed, "You're right. I probably would have been that shallow. Christ Rory, your cock, it's awesome. I'm glad we're friends before I found about it. But what did you mean, all except for the shag? You're not saying, surely...?"
"Yeah, I am saying that," said Rory, sadly. "Never. Never once managed it. All those guys in our marks out of ten, not one took it up his ass and let me shag him hard and for real. A few said they'd try and gave up, a few get it a bit of the way in, one let me fuck him using just the top half or so. One just asked me to leave, saying no way."
"But the sounds from the bathroom last night? I thought Brad...?"
"Brad did what a lot of guys do. He did what he could with his mouth and hands, then concentrated on the rest of me, rimming and titsucking and such, then either bring me off by hand or let me do myself while they fingerfuck me. Brad was good because he at least liked to fuck; I find that a lot of guys get intimidated by it and then don't even want to fuck me; they just go soft, which is just fucking madness. But Brad got stuck in and gave me a some good ass work last night, but, well, it would have been perfect if I'd actually managed to fuck someone at last, you know, dig right in deep, really pound at them, shooting the jizz fucking right in their guts. But... well, I'll wait."
Despite the fact that we had both been awake having sex all night, albeit not with each other, we both adjusted our cocks as erections began to show themselves again at Rory's words.
"Rory," I said, tentatively, "if you really want, one day, I could try and..."
"No, mate," he grinned. "I said, I want you as a friend. It's not because you're not hot, because you are, and your ass is fucking ace. I've jacked tons of times thinking what it might be like, you know, to, but... oh, fuck it. Let's get to work and take our minds of it."
Three further parts to come. If you enjoyed this and would like a list of my other stuff at Nifty, please mail me at jsmith381@hotmail.com