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Scottish Borders Young Slut 27yr old but looks under 20, Hosting in my own Flat in Galashiels, Needy for dick, cum an piss, My Hungry Hole Needs it!!
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I knew what I was getting into. I’d heard of Lawyer John’s notorious parties through the grapevine for years. My friend Con, who was a filthy gossip, pointed him out to me a few times in the nightclubs of Belfast. Lawyer John (our nickname for him) was pretty to miss though given his overall “too-hot-to-stay-in-Belfast” looks and physique. Lawyer John was a suave stunner in his mid-forties, with a gym fit body and expensive tousled “salt and pepper” haircut. He should have been modelling suits for Gucci or something, and not raising the bell-curve for us poor mortals who didn’t have any other option but to stay here in the North, drowning our sorrows as we were that night. Northern Ireland once again performed abysmally in rugby, getting trashed by the All Blacks earlier that day. Con’s favourite pastime, after a few jars, was nodding his head over at some poor trick in the club and divulging all his nasty secrets. Usually they involved Con, a quirky fetish and/or an STI. Con was an old-school gossip and would always start off in his thickest working class Belfast accent with the line “Didja ya see that wee lad there righ? Well…” At this point our posse would be leaning forward wondering what new tale of desperation or filth we were in for. With Lawyer John, Con would always drink deep from his Guinness, nod over at him and then launch into the following tale. “Did I tell ye lads about our friend Lawyer John over there. Mike (this was me) knows, but I’ll tell the rest of ye. Steer clear of that fucker. A right nasty piece of work they say lads. They say he hosts these parties y’see. Where all the A-gays of Belfast go and get gee-eyed out of it on G and E and coke and whatever else you’d be having. No condoms, no fucking sense, and a few prossies hired up from London or wherever. He works over in the courts too, so he should know better. Anyways, the parties always get really fuckin wild, and to hear tell of it, at one of the last ones there was a lad who overdosed. Some fucker up from Fermanagh, still wet behind the ears and looking for his bit of freedom from his mammy and the farm, thought he’d try his hand at hooking. Anyways as the story goes, the lad reacted badly with the cocktail of drugs he was on and it wasn’t till after the party that they realised he was unconscious and had been for about a day or two. It was then that they dropped him outside the Pipeworks sauna and called the police. Kid nearly died. Seemingly was left with some nasty nerve damage too. And that kid…” and Con leaned in here, building suspense, “is none other than Ugly Eoghan!” I’d heard it before so chuckled to watch the looks of incomprehension on our mates as they tried to fit the pieces together. Lawyer John was some jet-setting executive who probably had a sea of hot accountants who wanted him to write off their “bad debts”. Meanwhile Ugly Eoghan was the odd drunk that’d turn up outside the Kremlin as the crowd turned out in the early morning, trying to chat up the very, very drunk twinks outside. He worked the “going-home” crowd, cause he’d been barred from every gay establishment between here and Dublin. He was only in his early thirties, but had such a way with him that he looked at least ten years older and while there was nothing necessarily disfigured about him, he had a constant stoop, squinted eyes and a perpetually sneering mouth, so you couldn’t help but be repulsed by him. To think that this gay “character” had been created by the beautiful and sophisticated Lawyer John was a good yarn, but none of us really believed it. Sensing our disbelief, Con urged us “it’s true honest! Ugly Eoghan’s life wasn’t always the car-crash you see outside the chipper on a Saturday pawing at the twinks. But seemingly Lawyer John has high connections, and got the whole thing hushed up. The police, the other party-goers, even the sauna staff, everyone was hushed up”. We nodded as Con knocked back the rest of his Guinness and looked to see who was getting the next round in. He always got a bit conspiracy-ish after a few, talking one minute about chem-trails, and the next about how the fluoride pumped in Irish water was to keep people passive. A nudge knocked me out of my reverie. It was my round. I waited at the bar for the hot new barman Sven to get my drinks. Seemingly he had to learn how to replace a keg or something, but you’d forgive a white blond Nordic god a lot for a flash of his dopey smile, so I pulled out my phone and checked my apps. Grindr and Scruff were disappointing as usual, though my profile didn’t invite a lot of comment – it was just a torso like all the rest of them – showing off my six-pack from two years ago, which had since gone into a small hibernation. Not that most tricks minded. None of them looked quite like their photos either, and as long as I wasn’t, well, ugly Eoghan, and I shoved all nine inches of my cock into them, I heard no complaints. The only messages I had was from this hot nurse Gavin who I always had a great back and forth with, but who always chickened out of all the dates I suggested, to the point where I gave up trying. Sometimes I was in the mood to flirt with him, knowing it’d have no effect, but not today. Sensing someone pushing past me for a newly opened gap at the bar, I moved to let the guy settle in beside me. I did a very subtle double-take when I realised it was the devil himself – Lawyer John. He didn’t even notice me. He still had his head turned, taking drink orders off of some tall muscle-bound blond who’d be perfect as an extra in any World War 2 film, yellow blonde where Sven was white. I took the time to properly study the Lawyer-man up close. God, he was gorgeous. He’s one of those guys who looks so much better as a 40 year old than he ever would have as a 20 year old. His tailored shirt opening to show a defined lean body and sculpted lines across his collarbones, up his neck and in his deep dimples as he laughed at something the Aryan giant said. I waited for the polite “eye-contact” nod that in Ireland passed for “thank you for giving me space at the bar”, but the lawyer studiously turned forward and blanked me. Pfft. Whatever. I guess if you don’t look like you breathe the same rarefied air as these little gods, you may as well be invisible. I then heard the distinctive message tones from Gay-Romeo beside me. I looked over, and sure enough, Lawyer John had his phone out too. I guess little gods need a bit of help looking for love too. I noticed he was mostly scanning an app with a black and orange design. I leaned over a little further. It was called “BBRT” or something like that. I then heard the Sven clear his throat “Ah Mike, jour drrinks” “oh right, cheers Sven!” A few drinks more with the lads at the pub, then at Con’s house and eventually we’re all calling it a night. It’s proper late, by the time I’m back in my flat near the university, like 6am. I clumsily broke the laptop out and looked up this BBRT website. Bareback Real Time Sex, it said. I gulped a little. I’ve not usually been one for bareback – topping’s the same to me if I top protected or not, so I always chose the former. Up until this point I’d never successfully bottomed, with or without a condom, so I saw no attraction in barebacking. However, Lawyer John was on it, and who knew, maybe he was only a click or two away. I could beat off to some pics of him, no harm, no foul. I read through the usual preamble with starting an account, and then once I’d verified my email and put up the bare skeleton of a profile (Newry9inch), I got to seeing who was online in Belfast. This was a very different pool to the Grindr/Scruff guys. There were a few kinky bastards who revelled in anything pain related, a few kids that had the title Bug-Chaser in their profile and then me by the looks of it. Noone else was online. I went back to filling out my profile, deciding to put up a cock pic as my main profile pic (it wasn’t as if I was looking for friends or gym buddies on this site). Then after a bit more thought I added a headless nude shot and an over-the-shoulder arse pic. “Fuck it!” I thought and headed to the bathroom. When I got back, I was in luck. My inbox had three more messages from three different guys – not just the welcome bot. The first was a proper daddy type who wanted to spank my ass for being up so late. I chuckled, and politely declined. The next was from a blank profile online asking “u into scat?” I once again replied “cheers, but definitely not my thing. All the best”, cause I may be many things, but I always answer people, so there’s no ambiguity. I’m a motherfucking gentleman! The last was interesting. It was another blank profile “northernlights”, this time asking “u into pnp?” Now I won’t lie. I love me a bit of rolling with molly or speed-pumped sex, so this had my slut-senses tingling – could this be Lawyer John? I answered “could be. Why?” And waited… About half a minute later I get a reply. “We’re looking to score” and a link to a webpage within BBRT. I clicked through the link and it directed me to an expired party page from earlier that night– some sort of group page that BBRT did for people arranging group meets – wow BBRT really knew their audience! This page had the description “Party – Titanic Quarter for titanic men”. I snorted at that. The blurb below was written as if a size queen on meth – detailing all the types of men who could apply (a very select few) and all the guys who couldn’t. To be honest the description was a turn-off. One of those impossibly high standard parties that I wouldn’t dream of trying for after a few rejections earlier on in life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I feel pretty hot – I rock the slightly rough/scruffy, three-day stubbled scally lad look, but I would never fit in with the built Abercrombie and Fitch crowd. My body was lean and I was an in-shape lad especially for my job (a journalist for a less than reputable paper… ok so, a tabloid journalist – it paid the bills) but I’d never have this party’s required “defined muscles” or “less than 5% body fat” (I kid you not – that’s what they wrote). The rest of post summed up that a group party had been organised (about 6 hours earlier) for the A-gays of Belfast. Good-fucking luck to ‘em I thought! I saw my inbox had another message and clicked it. Northernlights again. “u know any dealers?” I chuckled and then remembered something. Looking to my chest of drawers in the middle of the room, I pulled out my sock drawer and fumbled at the back. I pulled out my old metal tea-box that had my weed and the makings of my joints in, a few pills, and also… at the bottom… …Eureka!.. I found the bag of MDMA that my mate’s sister’s boyfriend’s friend left behind at a houseparty a year back. The lad went mental looking for it afterwards, but cause he was a dick I didn’t call him up a week later when I found it behind the coal bucket. It was about 10-15g of product, but I’d tried it, and maybe cause it’d be been left out somewhere humid, or maybe cause it was it was just a shit supply, but it did nothing for me. But there was enough here for a trade. Maybe I’d get some money for it finally? I messaged back. “None that are awake right now. My usual guy’s disappeared too. I’ve a bit of my own supply - MDMA here (10-15g), dunno how good it is, if you’re desperate? J” (Was the smiley too much?) Northernlights was quick to reply “Yeah would be up for that - could buy it – where u? Could send taxi round? We’re in X” Obviously I’m not gonna reveal where exactly the guy was – but it was a very swanky part of town. Northernlights sent me on details of the place and then signed off – “…Thanks lad. See you soon” No name. But honestly considering we’d just agreed to perform a crime online I could understand that. Nice one! I was gonna finally sell off my old stash and at least see what the inside of one of these exclusive parties looked like. The taxi came round 15 minutes later. I was barely out of the shower and into my cleaner pair of going-out trackies when I heard my phone go off. I grabbed my whole stash box and all the way there I was full of nervous jitters. I kept thinking I was going to end up at some weird “eyes-wide-shut” masked party. The apartment building was one of the very modern ones that went up as part of the Titanic quarter’s refurbishment after the peace agreement. I remember seeing it being built and even then thinking I’d never be able to afford living in a posh place like this. I rang the apartment bell. Elocution lessons answered; “Yars?” “Um, this is ahem, Newry….” “Oh roight! Yars yars, push the door when it buzzes” I made my way up. On the way up I kept formulating and reformulating the plan. See how much they were willing to pay to keep their party going. Get a good look around to see how to super-hot live and try to see a few fucking, to fill the wank-bank. Get them to order me another taxi. Would they stretch to a pizza too? Oh, but how to make sure this wasn’t an elaborate police op? Wasn’t that entrapment? Did that law even apply in Belfast? Better make sure to get them to do a line for free first. I got to the door. I rapped gently on it. No answer. I was about to ring the bell when the door opened and there in a red and grey silk dressing gown stood Lawyer John. A-Gay of Belfast numero uno! “Newry9inches?” he said, smiling at me, showing those dimples. Those goddamn beautiful dimples! I nodded mutely and he waved me in. He muttered something about doing business upstairs in his room as I looked around the split-level apartment. There were bags and clothes on most of the chairs and couches in the main entrance hall-cum-living room. The floor plan was pretty open and segued from living room to foyer to kitchen (which was divided from the rest by an outjutting counter) all across the entire lower floor. There were some shadowy figures in the extremities of the kitchen and living room, but before I could better make them out, John beckoned me up his stairs (solid oak beams projecting from the wall, no banistair, very swanky!) I clambered up behind him, getting glimpses of his very tan, very developed gym-toned legs, to come out on a long corridor landing. Everything was ivory tones and expensive looking. There were about four doors off the corridor – two guest bedrooms, the main bedroom and main bathroom. As we went into the main bedroom I saw the entire outer wall was one plate window giving a fantastic view back over Belfast City. The bed was massive and recently used and there was an en-suite bathroom to the left. John sat down on the bed and looked expectantly me… “The MDMA?” “Oh right, yeah let me just get that out” and I walked over to the desk. He followed behind me as I lay the bag of white powder on the table. I saw the remains of some other lines of powder there and a credit card. I turned to him. “Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but cause I’m not used to, um, normally, ever doing this, and how do I know this isn’t some police sting?” He laughed a rich baritone laugh at that and said something about the differences in UK and American law, and that he’d asked me to bring over with me to sell, which indeed would be a form of entrapment. He then smiled and said, “but if it makes you feel better, I can do a line in front of you now?” I nodded, and he took the bag from me and poured some out. Crushing it with his credit card he asked me to roll up a twenty-pound note as he scraped together four short lines. When he pulled back he waved me forward to do the first two lines – oh right – I weirdly hadn’t expected to be doing the MDMA in front of him, but fuck it. I ducked down, snorted them up and passed the twenty. Squeezing and pinching my nose I looked over as he rose from his lines. “So do you wanna sit down for a bit, to see if it kicks in?” I asked. He nodded toward the bed, snuffling back all the powder. I sat down on the edge, he sat beside me. “I think I saw you out earlier” I mentioned. He nodded. “Mike here by the way” “Simon here” he replied, extending his hand for a handshake and smiling. I started to feel something in the back of my brain, but I was never great with MDMA. “I think I’m feeling it” I mentioned, “but it’s always a bit odd for me, how about you?” I asked. He was raising his half-shut eyes and muttering to himself… Yeah he was definitely feeling something. “Oh yars Mark” “uh it’s Mike” “Sorry Mike. Yah I’m feeling it – that is …some good stuff you have”. He looked at me. His eyes were massively dilated. We said in unison “wow your eyes…” and trailed off and chuckled. I looked at this guy who only hours before had seemed a part of the frosty impenetrable A-gay elite rubbish of Belfast, and yet here we were now, bonding. It was beautiful. I felt Simon and I were having a special time outside of time and that I could suddenly confide totally in him. “You should laugh more dude, your dimples are gorgeous” He smiled at this, and replied, “you’re pretty cute yourself dealer-man” I got a cheeky thought “what else can you do to prove you’re not a police officer?” His deep chuckle was adorable. “Well what would you like me to…” We got cut off by a knock on the door, the en-suite door. “Hey Si, are you still with that dealer guy?” The door opened and a tall pale guy with jet black hair stepped in. He was wearing a towel around his waist and had obviously come from the shower. His body definitely fit into the 5% body fat category. I think I could have seen him on a Men’s Health magazine or something – he had a familiar look about him. Every random Latin-named muscle was on display and some new ones too I think. “This him?” he asked Simon. “Yeah, this mmmmm here is…. Mark..no Mike! This is Iain” Iain smiled and extended his hand to me. “Not named after the Reverend I assure you.” I laughed and still felt very odd to be shaking everyone’s hand at a sex party. He then turned to look back at the desk. His back was just pure sculpture. I looked over to see Simon/Lawyer John smirking at me, catching me ogling the beefcake mere metres away from me. I giggled and nudged him. Yeah ok maybe the MDMA was having an effect. I’d missed Iain’s request “What now?” Iain repeated himself “Is it ok if I sample a line or two” “Be my guest,” I sorta slurred out. Iain bent over the desk to crush out a line’s worth. I was looking at Simon. He had mischief in his eyes. “Iain” Simon called, “I need to prove something to Mike here” and reached over to his towel-covered ass. Tugging on the towel as Iain crushed his line, Simon succeeded on pulling the towel off, revealing Iain’s pale magnificent ass. Iain barely reacted, engrossed in his task. The twin globes were just that right blend of smooth and bubble-butt, spreading down into two tree trunks of thighs. A real rugby player physique! Oh shit, now I knew where I’d seen Iain before. He’s Iain the rugby player! The gay rugby player Iain Hawkins! He was the prop-forward for the Northern Irish team who’d recently come out and had all his family support him in the papers, and his… boyfriend! I watched him earlier today get trounced by the fuckin Kiwis! My tabloid journalist was itching at the size of the scoop I had in front of me. Belfast A-Gay number 2, Iain Hawkins prop-forward for Northern Ireland, showing me his incredibly fuckable ass, while doing Class A drugs. Another part of me took over as I refocused on that ass. “Mike” Simon called back to me, “I’m gonna do something I’m pretty sure no undercover cop would do” and with that licked a finger and started to pull Iain’s ass-cheeks apart. Then exposing Iain’s pink rosy hole, he guided the lubed finger into Iain’s hole. Working it in quite quickly I figured Iain had already been fucked this night. Simon replaced his finger with his tongue as he got up properly to rim his friend. I heard Iain groan in appreciation and follow it with one quick snort. I was rubbing my cock through my grey tracksuit bottoms. Simon winked at me and looked to my growing bulge. “Looks like your username wasn’t lying” I smirked and coyly asked “do you want to check for yourself?” as I stood up, raising my crotch to his head height. He used his free hand to snag my tracksuit bottoms down exposing my navy blue jockstrap and jutting nine-incher. Simon mouthed a “wow”, as most guys do. It’s not just nine or nine and a half inches, it’s also quite a thick girthy cock which often a lot of bottoms can’t work with – they think they can, but their eyes are too big for their asshole. Simon got to work, pushing the jockstrap pouch to the side and freeing my monster. As he started lapping on the underedge of my cock, I reached over and started rubbing Iain’s ass cheeks. Iain took another snort and wriggled his ass in appreciation, or at least that what I took his ass-wriggle for. Unopposed I moved both my hands to cup Iain’s ass, kneading and massaging, rearranging our trio so that I could bend over to rim Iain while still giving Simon clear access to my cock. Iain’s hole tasted beautiful. You could tell that the cunt has been used, I could even detect some cum that hadn’t been fully washed away. Damn right I’ll admit I look for a good sloppy-seconds ass when I’m whoring myself round. I steer the fuck away from virgins and twinks. Fucking a cum-dump’s ass where it’s cold and virginal on the outside, but hot and juicy at the core… mmm my version of heaven. After a few minute of rimming and sucking – Simon sure loved sucking my cock and I was feeling a little more adventurous. I was alternating my tongue and my two left fingers, playing Iain’s ass like a fiddle. Iain pushed his juicy orbs again back at us, Simon pulled off of me to come beside me and watch as Iain started twitching his ass. I kept a grip on his ass shoving my left thumb inside him. Simon grabbed and turned my cheek and we stared intensely into eachother’s eyes. Simon took a step closer and asked, “would a policeman do this?” and grabbed the back of my head pulling me in to a full-on kiss. Our tongues were running against eachother, his spit, my spit. As I kissed him passionately back I felt his robe fall open and felt my cock bounce and joust with his thick 7 incher. Every bit of his body was tan, including his cock. I ran my right hand up and down his defined body, running over each muscular ridge – I kept asking myself, was this really happening? I looked down to pinch myself and could see a pearl of precum had started to drip off of his hooded shaft. I started to bend my knees to lick up every drop from his precum-dripping cock – I love a dripper! However Simon held me back and wiped his steady precum flow onto my own spit slicked member. After milking himself this way for a bit, he grunted up at Iain, “look back for a second Iain” Iain, minor sports celebrity, minor gay celebrity for the UK had recently done a fashion-spread for GQ magazine with his boyfriend. Yet right then he was currently sporting just a white powder moustache and a smile. He looked back over his shoulder at my proud nine-incher slick with Simon’s juices, as Simon tapped my cock against his twitching hole. “Oh yeah Mikey, shove that gorgeous stick into me” All thoughts of his boyfriend evaporated, all my thoughts of safety evaporated, I needed those ass-pussy lips on my poor naked cock and I needed it now! Ok yeah, the MDMA was definitely working at this point. I didn’t wait for a second request and shoved my tool deep in that slut’s hole. And what a fucking hole, it was a prime hole – medium rare/pink on the outside, juicy yet well done on the inside. I was a bit worried Simon’s precum wasn’t enough lube, but Iain already had a least two loads in him giving my cock the lovely cream covering as I churned that gut-butter up. I gave that rugby player a fucking penalty, conversion and a try. In fact I lost myself so much in pounding that perfect white arse's hole I didn’t notice Simon was gone. He had gone around to salvage the MDMA. It seemed I ploughed Iain a bit too heavily and now the prop forward had it all over him looking like some Japanese Geisha or some shit. “Oh shit dude, you’re gonna get so fucking high” I laughed, but I didn’t stop pounding him.
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I was scrolling through Grindr one night, sat in my lounge with my Grey Nike joggers on, Khaki Green TN's (in my pic) and a plain white t-shirt. Had a throb on and really had the urge to pump a sleazy hole, no names, just raw fun and go. This guy in his late thirties messaged me, he was about 3 miles away and no profile pic. He stated he wanted a guy to fist him then dump a load in his stretched hole. I thought, why not. About 20 mins later he buzzed me in to his ground floor council flat and was waiting on the bed in a jock and a pair of black socks with lube on the side and a towel down. Without speaking, I lived my hand up and slowly started working his hole with my fingers, more fingers each time as he moaned. Then without warning I started to slowly at first push my fist in to his hole. I could feel the walls of his insides scrape against the sides of my fist. Once I got about 2.5 inches in, his hole just sort of sucked up the rest of my fist. My fist was warm from his insides and I could feel the lining of his ass. For about a good 15 minutes I punched his hole, ripping my fist out and then slamming it back in as my scally cock throbbed and dripped pre cum over the back of his lower legs. He moaned and moaned as I stretched his sleazy, council dad hole. I couldn't resist any longer so I slid my 8 inch knob in to his sloppy, clean hole and fucked him doggy until I shot barrels of a warm cum deep in his guts which made him moan with pleasure. He could feel my cock pulse every shot. After, I pulled out, pulled my joggers back up and fucked off. Few days later I signed up to bbrt to have a scout around and saw his profile and find out he described himself as a poz sleazy dad with a turn on for scally lads to use him as a cumdump. Proper turned me on that I fisted and loaded a poz pig so much that I met him another 5 times after that.
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Part 1: Ryan and the Scally Lads "Are you sure you want to do this?" Jared asked, absentmindedly brushing his blond hair out of his face. "Yes. Definitely.” Ryan tried to not roll his eyes. “Come on... aren't you even a little bit curious?" Jared looked at the the building in front of them. They were in a part of Manchester he hadn’t been to before. It was dark, and the object of their interest was in the basement of an old building that hadn’t served its original purpose (probably some kind of industrial space) in decades. There was a sign but the name was generic enough that neither he nor Ryan would have known what it was — a gay “sauna” — except for the ad they had seen in a magazine in one of the bars on Canal Street. "No. I've got a pretty good idea what goes on in there. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I have to be a slag. Don't you want to save yourself for someone special?" Ryan knew exactly who that "special" person for him was in Jared's mind: Jared. He and his friend were both Mormon, had been raised in the same ward (congregation), and — around the time they hit puberty — had felt drawn together. For Ryan, it was simply because they had something in common... they were both gay in a church that didn't look on that very favourably. For Jared, it was more. He believed they were "destined" to be together. Ryan had tried to let his friend down easy. Jared just wasn't his type. Even now when they had been bar hopping on Canal Street, Jared dressed like he was on a church outing. He wouldn't even drink alcohol. With his thin and hairless body he was the picture of a typical twink. He was cute but didn’t do anything for Ryan sexually. Ryan had always been attracted to rougher guys. Council estate lads who would shock his middle class Tory parents back home in Essex (if he ever told them he was gay). Crass, tough, and a bit scary. That's what got him hard. But, no matter what Ryan did or said, Jared didn't want to hear it. "I stopped believing in soulmates around the same time that I stopped calling myself a Mormon.". Ryan said. It wasn’t the first time he had said that (or something similar) to Jared but his friend still looked hurt at his words. "I'm going in. You coming?" "No. I don't think so. I'll wait for you over on Canal Street for awhile... in case you change your mind." "I won't." "Just... just be careful. Ok? Be safe. I've heard guys don't always wear condoms in places like this." It was good advice, Ryan decided. He didn't want to get sick. He was on the rowing team for the university and knew his tight body was his best feature. Well... tight body, dark hair, blue eyes... and a butt to die for. He had not yet done anything other than sucking a cock or getting sucked... but he had watched enough porn to know that he was a bottom. Which was, of course, another reason he knew there was no future for him and Jared... what were two bottoms supposed to do together? But no. He had not yet surrendered his ass. Tonight, however, he was determined to change that. Tonight, he would lose his virginity. "I’ll be safe. And thanks." He gave Jared a friendly hug, walked down the steps, and into the building. Jared waited where he stood for a couple minutes, ignoring the leering look some drunk gave him, before turning around and walking back to Canal Street and the bars. Inside, Ryan paid his admission and passed through a turnstile. He wasn’t sure what to expect... but the somewhat generic locker room wasn’t it. Still, he guessed it made sense. He knew guys walked around with nothing on but a towel ... so they needed to secure their clothes somewhere. He was pleased when he saw a couple other guys checking him out as he got undressed. They weren't his type ... but it made him hopeful he wouldn’t just be ignored. He wrapped the towel he had been given around his waist and set off to explore. Despite his bravado with Jared, and his sincere desire to have "real sex", he was nervous. How would he know a guy was interested? How would they know he wanted to get fucked? Should he tell them he was a virgin? He started with a walkthrough of the bathhouse to see what it was like... and to give himself time to calm down. There was a jacuzzi and a steam room, then showers, then a TV room. Steps led down to a short tunnel and then back up to several areas with different types of booths. Then another tunnel that led back over to the entrance from the locker room. Then, as he was turning a corner, he ran face first into a man coming in from the lockers. The man smelled like he had been working hard all day and hadn’t showered before coming to the sauna. Not dirty, just a little sweaty. He was about Ryan's age — maybe a year or two older. About 6 feet tall and lean. He had close cropped ginger hair and a nose that looked like it had been broken sometime. There was a tattoo on his hip but the towel covered almost all it it so it wasn’t clear what it was. Not a “pretty boy”... but incredibly sexy in Ryan's eyes. Ryan's dick was hard instantly. "Oi! Watch where you going, boy." "I'm so sorry. My fault. I wasn’t looking where i was going.". Ryan stammered. Two other men stepped out of the locker room, glancing at Ryan before turning to the man he had run into. "What's all this noise, you ginger cunt?" It was more banter than an actual insult. The man who spoke had 'dirty blond' hair and blue eyes. Unlike every other man Ryan had seen so far, he was wearing a pair of shiny black trackies instead of a towel and expensive looking trainers on his feet. His upper body, however, was bare. He wasn’t fat, not even remotely, but he had just a hint of a belly. Still muscled though. Just the kind of muscles you get from hard work not working out. The ginger man sneered at his two friends. "This little bitch ran into me. I think he wanted to see what a real man feels like." Ryan blushed and tried to stammer out another apology. "I think you're onto something there Scotty. Look how hard his little dick is." Ryan didn’t think his dick was "little" (it was about 5 1/2 inches) but he was hard as a rock. "Yeah. What fag boi wouldn’t be hard at the thought of this?" Scotty groped himself through the towel. Fuck! He was hung. Ryan couldn't take his eyes off what looked to be eight inches... and not yet fully hard. He just stood and stared. "You know what we have here lads?" The third man spoke for the first time. He was a bit shorter than the other two, maybe 5’ 10”, but was the most muscular of them. His hair was dark like Ryan's but his eyes were brown. "I think you've found a virgin." The ginger smiled and seemed, suddenly, to be friendly. He put his arm around Ryan's shoulder.. Ryan couldn’t stop himself from inhaling a deep breath of the man's musk and sweat. He smelled soooo good. "Is that true, boi? Are you hiding a cherry under that towel?" "Well... kinda. I mean I've sucked a guy off before." "Thats just foreplay." The guy in the trackies laughed. "If you've never had a dick in your ass, you're a virgin." Unsure what to say, Ryan just nodded. "That's shameful!". The ginger man said with mock seriousness. "I can't believe some guy hasn't claimed that prize yet. A fine piece of ass like you.” He turned to his friends and winked. “I think we should help him out lads." The other two nodded and agreed. Not even trying to hide their smiles. "You want that, boi? You want me to fix that ‘cherry problem’ of yours?" Ryan looked at the three studs who now had circled him. Like sharks. Hungry sharks. Hungry — and very sexy — sharks. He took another whiff of the ginger man’s musk... he smelled like walking sex. A wet dream come true. "Please...?" was the only word he could form. "Good boi.". The third man, the muscular one with dark hair, smiled. "I'm Troy. This... " he gestured vaguely at the guy in track pants. "... is Connor. And you probably figured out that this ginger fucker’s name is Scotty." "I'm ... I'm Ryan." He couldn’t believe his luck at meeting up with these three chavs. Or scallies as they called them here in Manchester. "Where you from, Ryan?". Connor asked as the three lads led him deep into the sauna... back to one of the areas with booths he had walked by earlier. "Essex." "Oh. We've got a posh boi here lads. Best be on good behaviour." "No. No. Really... just be yourselves. I ... um... I like it." "Just yanking your chain, boi. Relax. You here at Uni then?" Ryan nodded, delighted as they seemed to ease him into their little group. "I never had much use for school myself.” Connor said. “Too many bullshit rules.” "Enough chatter.” Scotty interrupted. “The only thing Ryan here needs to worry about right now is my popping his cherry and setting him free." Ryan blushed but his cock strained even harder under his towel. Troy opened a booth door and gestured for Ryan to enter. The booth was filled wall to wall with a large mattress (if that was the right word.... more of a big cushion or pad) which was elevated enough that they had to climb in. It was large but still a little cramped when the four of them were all in and the door closed. It hadn’t occurred to Ryan until that moment that there would be witnesses to his deflowering. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought but didn’t want to look like a pussy in front of these guys and ruin his chance. Troy surprised him by pulling him in for a kiss. His mouth tasted of cigarettes and beer. Ryan wasn’t crazy about smoking ... but was too turned on to care. Troy lay down to the mattress, pulling Ryan down on top of him... which served to raise his ass up a bit. Scotty pulled the university student's towel off. The ginger man leaned over on top of Ryan so he could whisper in his ear. "You've got a lovely arse here, Ry. I'm gonna love WRECKING it." Ryan looked up nervously. "Ignore him. He just likes messing with you." Connor assured him. "But... well... he IS big. Especially for your first time. I do have something that can help though..." He pulled out a small brown bottle from a pocket on his trackies. "I don’t think I want to do any drugs..." "Oh its not like that. Just poppers. They just help you relax." "I'm not sure..." "Connor is right.". Troy said beneath him. "They really will help. Just give them a quick try. If you don't like them, no harm done... right?" Ryan nodded reluctantly. He reached for the bottle but Connor shook his head. "You’d better let me hold them. The last thing you want to do is spill them down your nose. Here, just take a big sniff..." A moment later and Ryan felt warm. Like he was blushing. And then just a little woozy. But he barely noticed as Scotty buried his face in his crack and started licking his hole. "Oh. My. Fuck!". Ryan moaned. The bottle was back under his nose. "Sniff." Connor said. Ryan didn't argue. ---- Jared looked out the window of the bar. He didn't really expect Ryan to give up or come to his senses so quickly, but he hoped he would. They were perfect for each other. It was so obvious to him. He couldn't understand why Ryan didn't see it. He hoped that, by letting Ryan "sow his wild oats", he would get this nonsense out of his system and be ready to settle down as boyfriends. He took another sip of his diet cola and decided to give Ryan a bit longer to come find him. ---- Ryan was in heaven. Scotty’s tongue, and the occasional finger, was still buried in his ass and Troy’s lips were still locked with his. The poppers had left him so horny he could scream. Connor lifted his head up. “I’m feeling left out, Essex boy. Why don’t you use your mouth on this?” He pulled his trackies down with one hand, just far enough to free his dick, and with the other hand pulled Ryan’s face into his crotch. Ryan opened his mouth and swallowed the cock. It wasn’t quite as long or thick as Scotty’s but it was still the biggest he had ever had in his mouth. He couldn’t help but gag a bit. Troy had the poppers now and placed them next to his nose. “Sniff, Ryan.” Ryan obeyed. Scotty had gotten a bit more aggressive with his fingers now... but the poppers helped him handle that as well. Troy had told him that Scotty needed to stretch his hole so he could enjoy his first fuck more. Ryan just wished the ginger was more careful with his fingernails... he was feeling a bit scraped up. Then... the tongue and fingers were withdrawn. “You ready? You ready for me to pop that cherry and make you the slut you were born to be?” Ryan pulled his mouth off of Connor’s cock but Troy held him tightly enough from below that he couldn’t really turn around to look at Scotty. “Fuck me!” “Bossy little bitch, aren’t ya.” Scotty sneered. He started running his cock up and down along Ryan’s ass. “Um. You’re going to use a condom, right?” Ryan pointed to the container on the wall that held condoms and lube. “Of course, boy. The lads and I always play safe.” Ryan couldn’t tell if Scotty was being sarcastic or if that was just the way he always talked. “You shouldn’t use those condoms though.” Troy told him. “There are guys who will tamper with them. We always bring our own...so we know what condition they are in.” “Oh cool. Thank you guys.” Ryan still couldn’t turn around but he could hear the condom being opened and rolled on Scotty’s cock. “Here. Give me your hand.” Scotty ordered. Ryan reached his hand back and Scotty placed his fingers around the big — no, massive — cock that was about to penetrate him. He could feel the johnny firmly in place. He felt some cold gel applied to his hole and pushed in with a couple fingers. There was a slight tingling sensation. “Lube with a numbing effect.” Scotty told him. “Will make your first time easier.” Ryan smiled nervously. “I’m really glad my first time is with you. You making this so perfect. Thank you.” “No worries.” Connor replied. “Maybe a boy like you knows, deep down, that he needs what we have to give him.” Ryan didn’t understand but didn’t have time to think about it as he felt the invader pressing against his hole. Scotty slapped his ass. “Don’t tighten up.” “Just relax and push down on his cock.” Troy said below him. “Better fill his mouth with that dick of yours, Connor.” Scott ordered. “I think he’s going to be a loud one.” Ryan didn’t resist as Connor’s cock filled his mouth again. And he tried to push back as Troy had suggested. But it hurt. Oh fuck! It hurt. Troy held the poppers under his nose again. He sniffed deep. Scotty slapped his ass again. Harder. Much harder. Startling him. But, apparently, it was enough to make his hole spasm open... as he found Scotty had managed to push the thick head of his uncut cock in. It felt like someone had shoved a cricket bat up his ass. He tried to cry out... but with Connor’s dick in his mouth it just sounded like moans. “Oh, fuck yeah.” Scotty grunted. “Your cherry will always be mine.” “You’re doing good.” Troy assured him. “Now push back and let him get more inside.” Ryan’s eyes were watering with the pain but he did as instructed. He had done it. He had a cock in his ass. And now, despite the pain, he wanted more. Scotty was not patient but it still took several minutes before that big cock bottomed out inside him. Before he finally felt Scotty’s heavy balls slapping his ass. Scotty slowly pulled back until just the head was inside. Then back again balls deep. Out. And in. After a few minutes of this action, Scotty pulled all the way out. Ryan could feel Scotty’s hands behind him, doing something. He had a moment of panic... was Scotty taking the condom off? He reached back but could still feel the condom there. “Don’t worry, slut. The condom was just sliding a bit... so I’m pulling it on me tighter. “ And then the cock was back in. Thrusting in. And sliding out. A few minutes later and Scotty pulled out again. He rubbed some more lube in Ryan’s hole. Connor leaned over Ryan, looking at his friend’s cock with a smile. “You’d better pull the condom REALLY tight. Make sure it stays on.” Ryan could feel Scotty’s hands stretching the condom tight behind him. After a moment Scotty groaned slightly. “Fuck yeah. Just like that.” Connor said with a smile. As the cock went in, Ryan decided the extra lube was really helping. This felt amazing. Better than it had just a moment or two earlier. Still, he reached back, trying to be subtle. The cock was deep in his hole but he could still feel the base of the condom so he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me, boi.” “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” “Shhh.” Connor said. “Just get that mouth back on my cock.” Ryan did but couldn’t really focus on it. Connor, however, seemed content to just let it sit there for now. Scotty’s thrusts were getting stronger. More erratic. The cock seeming to swell up even more inside him. Every man knows what that means. Instinctively, Ryan started pushing back harder. Into the fuck. And was rewarded. “Yeah. You’re pushing me over the edge! Here it cums, you slut.” Scotty kept thrusting as he came before finally collapsing on Ryan’s back. His breath escaping in ragged bursts. After a few moments he pulled himself out of the hole and sat up. Connor withdrew his cock from Ryan’s mouth and Troy released his hold, allowing the student to sit up slightly and look around. Scotty had already wrapped his towel around his waist and was throwing the used condom in a small trash can in the corner. Ryan could just see the tip of the tattoo under the towel and again wondered what it was. Scotty smirked. “Looks like I may have used too much lube. It’s dripping out of you.” Connor moved behind him. “Yeah, man. That is a lot of ‘lube’. It would be a shame to let that go to waste.” He started rubbing his cock against Ryan’s hole. It took the student a moment to realise what Connor wanted. “Um. I don’t know. I’m a little sore.” “Oh come on.” Troy frowned. “We’ve helped you lose your cherry. Surely you wouldn’t hold out on us, would you? Besides, neither of our cocks is as big as what you’ve already taken. You’ll be fine.” “You both want to fuck me?” “Well not at the same time. I don’t think you’re ready for that. Yet.” Troy winked up at him. Ryan had to admit the cock rubbing against his hole was feeling good. “You have more condoms, right?” “Oh, yeah. Lots more. Just like the last one.” “Let’s do it.” Ryan thought Connor’s grunt as he slipped into his no-longer-virgin ass was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Connor’s style was so different than Scotty’s had been. Where Scotty had thrust deliberately in and out, Connor’s were more like a rabbit fuck. Short but very fast thrusts. He didn’t want to insult the guys again, so he didn’t let himself reach around to feel for the condom. He had heard Connor opening it and say he had put it on. Why would he lie? Meanwhile, Troy kept kissing him, rubbing his nipples and dick, and giving him the poppers. Scotty was sitting in the corner watching them all while playing with his now soft cock. Connor reached the point of no return much quicker than Scotty had. “Fuck yeah. You little slut. Your fucking tight hole is going make me shoot.” Ryan realised he liked when they talked dirty to him. It was like he was in one of the pornos he watched online. “Yeah. Do it. Fuck me like a slut.” “Damn. That was so fucking hot to watch.” Scotty said a couple minutes later as Connor pulled out of Ryan. “Yeah, you dirty fucker.” Connor bantered with the redhead. “I know you get off on watching me fuck. You just wish it was your ass I was pegging.” “In your dreams.” Scotty sneered. “Looks like I used too much lube as well. Look at it flowing out of him now.” It was strange, Ryan couldn’t remember Connor adding more lube. He didn’t worry too much about it though. It was Troy’s turn. Troy’s style was completely different from the other two fucks. If Ryan had to describe it, he would say it was gentle. Almost romantic. It took Troy much longer to cum that the first two but he did eventually collapse on Ryan’s back after his cock spasmed deep inside him. “Damn.” He said as he pulled out. “It looks like we all used a little much ‘lube’. Your hole is a mess. Looks like you might have bled a little as well.” Ryan sat up and felt his ass. “Really?” “Don’t worry, it sometimes happens. Especially your first time. It will heal up in a day or two. Nothing to worry about.” Ryan nodded. His ass really was a mess. Whatever lube they had used was running out of his (now far less tight) hole and down his ballsack. “That was fun, slut.” Scotty said. “Welcome to the club.” “The club?” “Yeah. The former virgin club I mean.” Scotty sneered at him. It was a bit scary. But very sexy. “I doubt this will be the last time you get fucked. Will it?” “No. I liked it. I really liked it.” “Fuck yeah you did.” Connor added, pulling his trackies up. “You’ve worn the three of us out.” He opened the door. There were a few men outside listening to the action who looked in the opening door. Their hungry looks made Ryan blush. “Hope to catch you soon for a repeat.” Troy smiled. “We need to make sure that hole is well and truly broken in.” After they left, Ryan pulled the door closed but there was no latch. He should go, he told himself. If he knew Jared, he was still in a bar waiting for him. But he was so drained. He needed to rest for a few minutes first. He flipped the light switch off, laid down on his belly (his butthole was pretty sore now), and closed his eyes. Just for a minute he told himself... right before he fell asleep. He woke with a start as he felt someone move on top of him. “What the fu...” “Shhh, boy.” A stranger’s voice said to him. “I saw you in here with your juicy ass in the air and I could see what you want.” A hard cock pressed against his hole. He was so sore... but it felt so good. He pushed back and let it enter him. The stranger didn’t feel very fit or toned but, in the darkness, Ryan could ignore that. The stranger used him hard. Both of them grunting in exertion, thrusting together. Until the stranger came and pulled out. “Thanks.” Was all the stranger said as he got off Ryan and climbed out of the booth. In the light from the corridor, Ryan had saw him for the first time. The stranger looked to be about 60 with a flabby belly and a saggy ass. That was the moment he realised that had never seen the stranger put on, or take off, a condom. Had the old man just fucked him bare? Ryan was ashamed. He felt... dirty. Truly slutty. And not in a good way. He hurried out of the booth himself. He didn’t even stop to shower on the way to the lockers. Five minutes later he was out the door and back on the street. He didn’t think he could face Jared right now. He headed home telling himself he would talk to his friend tomorrow. He hurried into his apartment and to the toilet. Trying to push out anything inside him. But he didn’t see anything but more lube like Scotty, Connor, and Troy left behind. He breathed a sigh of relief. His phone rang. Jared. Not tonight he decided. He would talk to Jared tomorrow. He turned his phone off and took a shower. —— It was past closing time. Jared shivered in the cold night air outside the bars as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. He never should have let Ryan go into that place. He had been gone for hours and now wasn’t answering his phone. There was only one thing to do. He would have to go in and find his friend and get him out of there. NEXT: Jared and the jock
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Anyone know if Luke Desmond has done bareback? He's so fucking hot. JP Dubois is a "safer sex" porn star, but I noticed clips of him barebacking privately have surfaced on the internet. Wondering if the same might apply for Luke. Note to moderator: I've searched to check no-one else has created a topic re this, but can't find one, so hope this is the first.
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Hello everyone, i've been looking for some chav/scally bareback porn and i haven't found much. Do you maybe know any that you can recommend?
