Bradley Stoke

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..."

"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.

*****

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.