Glasgow Tales

[rough-one]

Hi all. Hope you enjoy this - like everything it's based somewhat on some experiences I've had.
 

 

Alright lads? My name's Stuart. I'm from Skye originally but moved to Glasgow like most of my mates, cause there's fuck-all to do in Skye and even less to shag. A few years back I was back visiting and I bumped into the mother of an old school friend of mine Bill. When she heard I was moving house, she was delighted and asked if I would stay with Bill for a while. She was worried about Bill's choice of friends and it was a fair request. Bill had hit weed pretty strong in college and had dropped out of a computer science course for part-time jobs as a lighting rigger for shows in the city, full-time job as a stoner.

Bill lived in a slightly run-down part of Glasgow, in a beautiful old redbrick house with Georgian windows and crappy insulation - I'd been over there once or twice for some great nights smoking my brains out with my straight mate. His mum was right though, his current crowd was full of right dobbers and pissheads! Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed a toke or two. At this stage I hadn't tried much else - a bump of speed once and a few pills if I could get them. However, unlike Bill I didn't arrange my life around drugs. I kept myself fit by joining a canoeing team in college and did some climbing too. At this point just after my Masters, I was 24, dirty blond, pale-as-fuck skin (thank you Scottish weather), lean with defined muscles and if I tensed-up enough, I had a six-pack. After I got the call from his mum, I called Bill to ask him how he was and if he knew of any rooms in his area.

"Aye lad, yeah sorry I forgot to mention it, there's the room going here" he drawled, "but you'll have to be ok'd by the landlords first, but you'll have no bother with them" he continued with a bit of a leery tone. I replied "what do you mean?" I could hear him stop for a toke, hold it, release, and then continued, "they're poofs like you man, you can probably talk to them about fuckin' flower arrangin' or some shite" I laughed "haha, fuck you, ya wee gob, I still remember your stamp collection phase". He spluttered with that comment "not a word of that now, if we're to be housemates, no leaking of any dirty secrets!" I chuckled, "well put in a good word for me and I'll see about "forgetting" certain key facts about Scotland's 1998 philatelist-to-watch award winner". After a few more friendly jibes, Bill told me he'd call them and get them to give me a text with an appointment in the next few days.

The following Saturday I got a text "Hi this is Davie, Bill's landlord, Would you able to pop by at 7 tonight?" I groaned a little cause it was midday and as I had just arranged a shag with this fit guy I met through a fuck-buddy of mine - Pedro. At least I was told he was fit. My fuck buddy Andrew being a total slut that he was, had to cancel a shag last minute, and suggested to Pedro that he could get him a replacement. When I got the text that morning I chuckled. Only Andrew would be considerate enough to think of my hole, I thought - although granted, Pedro sounded pretty fit - 36, Spanish, good body, a bit sleazy, 9" cock with a slight curve, top. Ok maybe it was the last part I was happiest with. A drag queen from the local shows used to say "Glasgow is like American Apparel - you can never find a decent top!" And I was due to meet this top at 4pm about a ten-minute walk from Bill's house. "Fuck it" I thought, "I am not turning down some prime Spanish meat for this meeting, I'll get fucked by him and then meet Davie, and then afterward I'll go back for more!"

My contact from Pedro had been minimal, I was interested what he meant by sleazy. I just got a message from a blurry torso with rose tattoo on the left pec on Grindr saying "I hear Andrew's recommended you as an animal in the sack, looking forward to later" and an address. At 3.50pm, I got to the apartment at that address and got buzzed in - from the stairwell I saw his door was ajar. I walked in and closed the door behind me and heard a voice "In here Stuart!". I followed the voice to a bedroom and opening the door I saw Pedro, naked, kneeling on the bed facing me, with one hand smoking a joint and with the other stroking his beautiful cock. He had deep golden skin, a shaved head and a fit body with some tattoos. There was the rose on his left pec and more colourful tats on both arms and legs. If this was the United States I'd bet people would be be checking their wallets, but here in grey, dull Glasgow he was exotic. He smiled at me, "hey chico, wanna suck on this". I took my bag and jacket off and walked over to him, "hi Pedro", I said "your pictures don't do you justice". He smiled, took a drag and then pulled me by my shirt-front and kissed me, giving me a blowback from the joint as he did. "It's all yours boy, enjoy the ride" and pulled me down to his cock.

Pedro's cock was darker the rest of him and his black pubes were kept trim but were still a bit curly. Kneeling in front of the bed I held his growing cock and started to rhythmically stroke it to full hardness while I got my shirt off with the other hand. I licked the velvety skin of the shaft and took his cock head in my mouth. I only started with the first third of his cock and my mouth felt almost full. His cock was thick, a bit salty and juicy, with a long foreskin I played with a little as I pulled him into a better position. As I started to tug at my jeans Pedro said "Don't be in a hurry boy", and started rubbing my face against his cock, "now show me those cock-sucking skills I've heard about". His cock was getting longer and harder in my hand and mouth, sticking out with a curve to the right. I smelled his clean but strong scent -I fucking love a good sweaty guy! I started to move my head down him. As we got into it, I made my signature move - when you put the tip of your tongue up to the roof of your mouth (like when you say the letter L) and hold it firm while the cock moves back up to push past it in your mouth. Then as it breaks past the tongue, the tongue is quickly slid underneath the shaft - rinse and repeat. Pedro was loving it "Aw yeah chico, do more of that!" I gripped his brown ass and licked a finger to rub his hole, but Pedro said "no dude, I ain't gay for that kinda shit". "Oh great" I thought, "another closet case", but the dick was right - it just fit beautifully in my mouth, soft and firm, pumping in and out. My mouth, his dick - they were like custom designed for each other. I got into a rhythm with Pedro, with him moving his hips as his cock-head increased pace and started pummelling the back of my throat. I took ages slurping and sucking his cock, occasionally licking his taint and balls - this Spaniard was loving the attention, but wouldn't let me rim him.

I'd take little breaks to swallow all the extra spit that had built up and one of these Pedro passed me the spliff again. "Up on the bed chico" he said, and started to help me out of my trousers. At this stage the effect of the joint was making me more relaxed and sensual. I shucked off my trousers and shoes and grabbed Pedro and kissed him passionately, tongues battling it out and invading eachother's mouths. "Thank fuck he's got no hang-ups about kissing" I thought to myself, and revised my notions about him being an "MSM" (straight men who lie to themselves that shagging men doesn't make them gay or bi) and thought he was just a top who knew what he wants. Much better. I tasted something acrid in his mouth, and pulled off him to say "what have you been drinking? Window cleaner?" He smirked at me, "close", he said, "you had G before?" I'd heard of G but never tried it. I knew it was easy to overdose on it so I shook my head, "maybe later" I replied.

He kissed me down my chest, stopped at my briefs to pull out my semi-hard cock and gave me a few cursory welcoming licks, but as a consumate bottom I knew what he was looking for and twisted myself round to put my ass on display. My ass is pretty fucking beautiful if I do say so myself. All my climbing work has given me a firm white ass with a bright pink pucker I keep shaved. As he inched my underwear off and I spread my cheeks I heard an intake of breath "Dios mio, what a fucking culo" I turned my head to see Pedro taking in my "rear-view". He dove in to my ass with his mouth. Lappping and sucking. He did stuff to me that I can't quite describe and I wish I'd asked him later so I could improve my own technique - but fuck yeah he was good. He used his tongue in a way it felt like his tongue was fucking me but also knew just the right amount of finger to mix in with the rimming.

"Mmm, oh chico, this ass is art! You should become an ass-fucking-model. He made those photographer "frames" with his thumbs and index fingers jokingly and then said "this china-white ass deserves a photo!" I quipped "as long as my face isn't in it, I'm game". Pedro looked at me with a devilish smirk, cock at full attention, while rummaging around his room for a camera, "what else are you game for, china-white chico?"

Now I'm not naive by a long shot, and I know that in Scotland and the rest of the UK at least "China-white" used to be a term for cocaine, there was a club in London named it as well, so when Pedro pulls out a giant bag of white powder with his camera and places it on the tablestand, I try to just wryly raise an eyebrow - who knows maybe I came across suave and worldly, maybe I looked like I had a facial-tick. I was pretty stoned by then and so was Pedro. This was a huge bag of coke - we're talking at least 500 grammes - like the stuff you see on television, not in a two-bed apartment in Glasgow. I half-expected some officer to magically appear with a knife to cut the bag and rub some on their teeth. "That's a lot of coke Pedro" I said, as levelly as possible. "No shit chico, and I want to snort some china-white off that china-white as of yours" he said with a gleam in his eye. It was about then that I realised his pupils were fully dilated. I laughed "you've been sampling this a bit already, haven't you?". He just laughed too, and brought out a tray and poured out a bit and started crushing it and making it into lines with a credit card. As he took out a plastic straw and cut two short lengths, I knew then I was going to be snorting coke for the first time. He looked up at me and said, "you game China-white?"

There was a clock on the wall and it was reading 4.20 (I took a drag of the spliff) and I asked, "Pedro, you can do it, but I've to meet my landlord at 7. How long does coke last?". Pedro immediately realised I was a coke-virgin and bringing over the tray said "don't worry Stuart, it'll be just a mild buzz like coffee by that time". Lying bastard.

[rough-one]

Previously…

There was a clock on the wall and it was reading 4.20 (I took a drag of the spliff) and I asked, "Pedro, you can do it, but I've to meet my landlord at 7. How long does coke last?". Pedro immediately realised I was a coke-virgin and bringing over the tray said "don't worry Stuart, it'll be just a mild buzz like coffee by that time". Lying bastard.

 

Right so…

My name’s Stuart and I was about to do cocaine for the first time with hot tattooed Spaniard in his late 30’s called Pedro. Exotic as he sounds this was happening in a surprisingly nice 2 bed-apartment in Glasgow’s dingy East End. Pedro (who was to later become my dealer) had convinced a very stoned me, that we had do coke to celebrate my beautiful white ass, and he planned to snort his off of my asshole. So first he came up to the head of the bed and passed me the small metal tray. On it was some coke, which was drawn up in four neat lines. “Those three are for later” he explained and passed me my straw. I looked at him sheepishly, “so I just snort it yeah?” I asked. He smiled, “just that, close your other – what do you call it?” “Nostril” “Yeah close the other one, snort it, and just enjoy the ride, but wait until after I do mine”. Taking his straw and a pretty large bump expertly on the back of his hand, Pedro scooted down the bed while I went on all fours to look at the tray in front of me. I felt Pedro’s hands on my asscheeks and looked back at him. He pushed my ass further forward and down and pushed out my legs, exposing my hole. “Fuck yeah chico” he said, “I’m gonna snort this china-white from your beautiful hole”.

 

I stayed as still as I could as I felt the powder being shaken on my asshole and after a second of two heard a snort. “Oh fuck yeah” Pedro almost croaked, as the cocaine started its work, “now you do yours chico” he said a bit hoarsely, caught up in his high. As Pedro’s hand continued to hold my ass apart, I turned to the tray and held up my straw. Looking at the line on the left I went for it, and in one snort managed to get all the line in, no crumbs, no waste.  I immediately felt weird as though I had gunged up the back of my nose, and then could taste the slightly soapy flavour to the coke start to seep down the back of my throat. Then it hit me.

 

Suddenly I was sure of everything. I knew what was going on, as my heart started to beat faster, I knew my eyes were dilating and this feeling of what can only be described as “wellness” inched up the back of my brain and switched all the anxiety buttons off. I was relaxing into my power – I know that sounds bit fuckin’ flakey – like some dumb self-help book for frustrated middle-aged women – but that’s the easiest way to say it - the coke made my energy levels shoot up and at the same time stripped away all my (lets be honest) many self esteem problems. Quickest way to stop giving a shit about anything. Physically I felt my skin almost singing as I got up on my hands and knees and arced my back. I felt fuckin’ good. “Oh yeah it’s hitting me” I said, “oh man, that’s hitting me hard”. “Good to hear it chico” said Pedro, “cause you’re gonna love this” and with that he dove his face down into my ass…

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

…I needed to put those dots there…

 

I needed to pause this memory to give a moment’s respect to one of the purest, most delicious moments of sexuality I have ever, fucking, experienced.

 

Pedro, that beautiful bastard, knew how to rim. Added to that - his coke-fuelled energy. Added to that - my coke-high. It was Pure. Fucking. Perfection. He went all-in to his job. We’re talking spitting and using fingers. We’re talking high-speed dragging your stuck-out tongue like a paintbrush up the entire ass-crack. We’re talking tongue-fucking, and then tongue and finger action at the same time. Pedro loved rubbing his shaven head against my bucking hole. Then there was that biting jaw-action you can do covering your teeth when you’re deep in a guy’s ass. I was experiencing his rimming as if I was doing it myself. I instinctively knew what he was going to do from my overdriven senses. I knew when he would begin to start circling the tip of his tongue or shaking his face and shoving his nose into my wet juicy crack. I always liked the expression “like a pig after truffles” – well Pedro was a piggy bastard and I was loving it.

 

I had been thrashing on the bed with pure pleasure. It took me a while to focus out of whatever zone I was in and come back to where I was. Pedro had come up for some air. I was spreadeagled – my pale smooth but defined body on all fours on his bed - I looked over at the tray to see I’d knocked against it and all the lines were one pile again – still all on the small little tray though so that was good. I picked it up and turned to pass it back to Pedro saying “sorry man, I think you’ll have to line em up again”. Pedro just laughed, he’d been stroking his beautiful tan cock to hardness. I looked at his cock and said “maybe it’s my turn to snort a line off you?” “Chico” he said (I normally hate any kind of nickname but I was loving his sexy Spanish accent - he could have been calling me a fucking nonce and I’d still have lapped it up), “you can put that coke on my cock, but coke does not get snorted off my cock.” I looked at him a bit puzzled. He looked back at me, his deep-brown eyes smiling, expectantly. I looked back at him, a small smile timidly growing on my face. He started to nod. I started to nod. “So you get what I’m saying?” he said. I replied, “um, actually no, not a clue – how else am I gonna get it off your cock? Are you just gonna let it drop off? Won’t that waste it?” Pedro looked at me exasperatedly – “Chico, I’ll fuck it into you”. “ohh”, I replied as I finally put two and two together. I won’t lie, sometimes I can be a little bit on the “slow-fucker” side of things.

 

With that Pedro grabbed the tray out of my hands and said “push your ass back here chico”. I pushed back along the bed to him, ass in front of his cock. Pedro balanced the tray on this chest at the end of his bed and reached underneath to pull up some body-glide – a silicone lube that’s brilliant for fucking but you never get out of the sheets. Normally some stupid factoid like that would make me tense up just a little – those tiny nagging worries that build up and stress you out of having a decent shag. Now I couldn’t give the slightest tiniest fuck, I didn’t even think about the fact that this would have be bareback and I normally hardly ever barebacked and only with people I intimately trusted. Still there was a part of me that bubbled up and said “so let me get this straight Pedro, you are gonna fuck me with that lube and a line of coke – is that really doable?” Pedro chuckled and said “you’re in safe hands chico. I know the right amount for your ass and you’ll feel a whole new type of high” Then he took my right hand and said “but you should go first” and rubbed some lube on my finger and then put a bump on my index finger. He directed my hand behind my arched back, “now guide that into your hole chico!”

 

With Pedro’s guidance I started to push my fingers into my spit-slick hole rubbing the coke and lube into my pucker. The coke and lube were such opposite textures, slippy and gritty and it felt great, no, it was “right”, and I started to get off at the idea of my fingers getting in past my tight pucker, one, then two, then three. As I was fitting the third finger into a comfortable finger fucking rhythm  – I was suddenly fascinated by the way I could keep balance with a hand pushing fingers up my ass. Time seemed to slow down as my entire body was swaying with the finger fucking pulse and I was following every groove of my knuckles when Pedro’s voice started to come from what I though was another room. “You’re a complete natural chico” he smiled, “mama china, she obviously loves you, and I know just the way we’re gonna say thank you, now come to papi”. I took my fingers out and got to the end of the bed where Pedro was. Pedro enfolded me in his strong tattooed arms and pulled my hand to his face. He sniffed deep, “mmm chico, you smell tasty” he said and then guided my hand down to his cock. I reused my lube on his cock and then turned and bent over the bed again. I pushed my cheeks back just under his cock. Then Pedro squirted a bit more lube on his uncut 9 incher and started to rub his cock all up and down my ass crack. Time slowed down again for me as I felt the tingle of every deep rub from his cock against my pucker. I needed him inside me. We needed to be one. I needed to feel his cum deep inside me.

 

Pedro looked at me, I was turning back to watch him grind against me. His upper lip curled as he looked from my face to my rocking asshole. “Mm you like that chico,” he groaned, biting his lip. He put his hands on my ass slowing down my movement, “now I want you to stay still for minute”. He found the coke and lined his rock hard dick with the thick remainder of the last two lines. He reached back to get his phone and recorded himself pushing in the head of his cock – coated with coke. “Aye I can feel it go in” I grunted, to which Pedro quipped “I fuckin’ hope so”, I responded, “I mean the coke on top of your cock man”. We laughed and I just let the sheer wave of pleasure as his 9 incher kept shoving through my sphincter up to my prostate – filling me and expanding, filling and rubbing and pulling back slowly and then pushing back a tiny bit quicker.

 

Meanwhile the coke was starting to make my ass numb at first. Pedro tossed me up his phone. “Press play” he said and I started to watch my pink hole with a coke covered cock get fucked. “It looks like a double dipper” I laughed, but Pedro didn’t hear me or maybe he didn’t get the reference – double dippers were these paper packets of sherbet you got in the UK and some of Europe, with separate raspberry and orange sherbet compartments and a yellow candy stick that you licked and dipped into them one by one to lick off the sherbet. I could hear myself saying “Aye I can feel it going in”. Pedro continued to serve my ass pumping in and out a slow regular pace now. It was hot to watch this ass – I mean - my ass get chem-fucked by this thick juicy cock. I looked away from the phone and turned back and saw him – head thrown back to look at the ceiling, hands up to tweak his nipples, muttering to himself “fuck yeah this is a tight puta pussy” as his hips went on and on, slowly auto–fucking his chems into me. He was in his own euphoria. I turned back to the video. The file had finished, I exited the file and saw the other movie files show up beside it, a lot of their previews pink and orange from some other close-up on a bodypart – more homemade porn? I clicked on one thinking “he won’t mind”, and quickly saw a familiar face – Andrew my fuck buddy!

 

Pedro started to pick up the pace. A steady ball-slapping fuck at this stage – the pleasure from each thrust hit that reward centre in the back of my brain and rolled down my back. “Oh yeah”, I groaned, “shove your cock deep in me! Pound my ass!” As I jolted from the fucking I pressed the play button. I thought, this way I can include Andrew even if he’s not here. The video was jerky (or maybe it was the fact that I was being punch-fucked by Pedro while I watched it) but showed my fuck buddy’s face – who was an auburn-haired catholic lad from Belfast over here to get a bit of distance from the place – who could blame him? Building a fancy Titanic museum doesn’t even begin to paper over the cracks in that broken city. The video panned back to show him being fucked in the same bed I was in, but not by Pedro, but some other white lad with a northern Irish accent who was smacking his already-bright red ass. I guessed Pedro was enjoying filming him too much to be currently taking part. The coke and fucking won back my complete attention and I laid the phone down by my side. At this stage Pedro was pulling his cock out almost fully and then shoving it all the way back in – punch fucking as I call it. It really pounded my asshole’s nerves – my ass was on fire. The pace of the punchfucking increased Pedro had hips like a fuckin’ eel. My head was being push further into the bedding and I muffled out “Just keep fucking me” as my prostate started to swell. From the phone I heard “Choke on my cock ya dirty Taig-cunt” and almost got completely derailed from my building climax. Y’see – Andrew loved a bit of roleplay – specifically protestant/catholic dom/sub roleplay – he tried to get me into it but I could never keep a straight face.

 

One great thing about coke, you only have to remember your sexy situation - being topped by a hot Spaniard who’s chem-fucking your ass into oblivion, and you’re there 100% focussed again. Pedro was stiffening inside me, his sweat dripping onto my back, to run down my ass and get fucked into me by his insatiable tool. He had both feet on the bed on either side of my knees and was resting his hand on my shoulders as he fucked me a type of doggy – doing squats to dip his dick in and out of my tingling ass. We both were past our usual stamina at this point.

 

I urged him on, “fuck yeah Pedro, I’m almost ready”. He looked me looking back at him and grinned. Then he started pounding my ass like a man-possessed. I couldn’t keep up with him and it was in a very short time he started breathing low and heavy. He grabbed my hips and muttered something in Spanish and then I could feel his cock fill up and shoot out hot cum straight into my ass.

 

Time slowed down with as he came, my energy and his energy joining, the coke sending everything electric, the cum - we were one being, blissed out on life.

 

Beside me the phone display showed 6.45pm. Oh fuck....




 

Edited July 27, 2015 by rough-one

[whorepig]

This is getting good, can't wait for more, a 9" cock and a guy who knows how to use it, who could ask for more.............:-)

[roguematrix]

Plus uncut and raw fucking.....mmmmmmm win win

[rough-one]

Thanks guys, appreciate the feedback, hope to add the next chapter tomorrow.

[talldudeAU]

Very hot!!!!

[rough-one]

Glasgow Tales 3.

 

Previously…

I urged him on, “fuck yeah Pedro, I’m almost ready”. He looked me looking back at him and grinned. Then he started pounding my ass like a man-possessed. I couldn’t keep up with him and it was in a very short time he started breathing low and heavy. He grabbed my hips and muttered something in Spanish and then I could feel his cock fill up and shoot out hot cum straight into my ass.

 

Time slowed down with as he came, my energy and his energy joining, the coke sending everything electric, the cum - we were one being, blissed out on life.

 

As he pulled out I looked at the time – it was 6.45pm.

 

Right so…

My name’s Stuart and I about to be late for an appointment with my hopefully new landlords. I’d just had the fuck of my life from a sleazy Spaniard dealer called Pedro and now I was desperately trying to get sober, get showered and get out from his place to run down to this new room I was hoping to rent. The ironic thing was I was hoping to get this room to keep an eye on a mate of mine who was in a bit of a drug spiral – was that real ironic or Alanis Morrissette “ironic”?

 

So how does someone get sober from coke in less than five minutes? Fucked if I know. I had Pedro, who was chuckling to himself, looking up Yahoo Answers for it, but half the answers were preachy fuckwits saying you deserved what you got, and the other half telling me to meditate and not drink coffee.

 

Without time for a shower, Pedro’s cum still in my ass and still not having cum yet, I pulled on my bag and my jacket and headed for the door. Pedro looked up from his phone and said “hey chico, here take this, it might help you calm down a bit”. He tossed me a spliff, which I pocketed, and then, as I was heading out the door, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and ran it down to the shaft of his once-more growing cock and said “then bring that white pussy back to me when you’re finished with your guy. I have a guy lined up tonight, but I’m not through with that ass”. “You’re on” I replied and left, taking the stairs down two at a time. In my coke haze I made good time across the city until I was at the door of Bill’s place (and hopefully soon “my place”, if I made a good impression).

 

Bill answered the door in a rugby shirt and running shorts. At 6”2 with bristly black hair that grew everywhere (the backs of his fingers were like little forests), Bill could be seen as intimidating, but only if you didn’t know him. The local rough types steered clear of him, but for me, I had grown up with him in Skye and remembered the geeky Super-Mario fanatic he was (and still is). I found it hard to see him as anything but a lovable stoner. Speaking of which, he stank of weed. “Dude” I said, wrinkling my nose, “you reek of weed and your landlords are due to meet me here any moment”. He laughed and said “relax, it’ll only be a quick chat I’d say, anyways I’m out for a jog, so you’ve the place to yourself” With that, he pushed past me, giving me the thumbs up, and headed down the road.

 

With Bill gone I looked around the house – it was an old Georgian redbrick that had seen better days. The room I’d be renting was at the back above the kitchen. The kitchen being the only social room in the shared house – the landlords Davie and Blair who lived about five streets away in a decidedly nicer part of town, had converted the living room to another bedroom while they worked on earning enough money to do up the entire place. So the garden was a jungle, all the rooms smelled a little damp, even now in the middle of summer, and it was a good thing they had Bill there, cause he was the only one who was handy enough to keep the whole place from falling apart.  All in all there were five bedrooms in the place, all dirt cheap. Top floor there was Bill’s master bedroom where I hung out many a night getting stoned. Across the hall there was a rail-electrician who worked nights and who I’d never met. Bill, in his more paranoid stoner moments, was convinced the guy was a cop on a stake-out. Then there was a split-level with the room for rent and a bathroom. The bathroom-door had a post-it note on it currently, asking people to remember to flush. That would be Sabine, the passive aggressive bitch of a girlfriend to Stefan. The German couple shared a bedroom downstairs and Stefan would often creep up to Bill’s room late at night to have a quick joint after his girlfriend fell asleep.  We all wondered why he stayed with her, she must have been a demon in the sack. We used to have fun seeing how many of her post-it notes Bill could make her write in a day. Lastly there was Emmett, who was a “murse” – a male nurse, and who Bill (mainly because of his job) suspected was a fag. Like the guy upstairs, he kept night shifts and I’d never met him.

 

Wondering what to do – it was 7.05pm and my eyes were still rolling my head from the coke-high, I went down to the kitchen and put on the kettle. The kitchen was full of post-it notes again “Who ate my cheese???”, “This is SABINE and STEFAN’s milk!!!” and the classic “Who left these dirty dishes here???” We wondered what would happen if we ever pushed her past a fourth question mark. I decided to make enough tea for everyone and took off my jacket to get comfortable. Soon enough I heard a key turn in the door.

 

“Hello?” I heard a voice call from the hall, as two guys came into the house. The first guy to come was dressed in biker gear – all black leather. As he took off his motorbike helmet I saw he had a shaved head and was in his late forties – weathered, brown eyes with a little hint of grey stubble but well built with a broad frame and serious muscle under all that leather – this must be Blair – the older of the two. As we made eye contact I saw the second man behind him come into view. This must be Davie I thought, as the younger man (about mid thirties) pulled off his leather jacket. He was wearing a fitted checked shirt and one of those Che Guevara green caps over ear-length curly hair. As he turned and his bright blue eyes made contact with mine, all I could think was “fuck, I’m in love”. Bill never mentioned his landlords were fucking hot!

 

As the two came into the kitchen I shook their hands and we sat down for some tea. I kept stealing glances at the two of them when I thought they wouldn’t notice. Blair was seriously buff and after removing his biker jacket, he was just wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt to complement his leather pants. His gym-work must have been impeccable cause every inch of his skin on display was an anatomy lesson. Davie was a slimmer but still had a gym-fit build with pale skin like mine, and his face looked like it had been lifted off a Caravaggio or one of those painters. Those bouncy curls that framed his face with its gorgeous cheekbones... I realised noone had talked in a while, and they were looking at me expectantly. “Um so yeah” I started “I’ve known Bill from when we were kids” I could see the two exchange curious glances. “Stuart”, Davie quietly said, “we were asking you what you did for money?”

 

“Oh right” I replied, “I’m currently working a landscape gardening company. It’s just me and my boss Angus”. (Ok, relax Stuart – I thought – you don’t have to give them your life story). “We do a lot of the gardens in the area. It keeps the wolf from the door while I’m figuring out what to do next, and keeps me fit too – I mean, just look at these guns” as I flexed my biceps. (Oh wait – did I actually just say that?) – I caught up with myself – it was like my mouth was running two speeds faster than my brain. (Quick! Laugh it off and move on!) “Ahem, but I am planning to go back to college in a year and work on a PhD in horticulture” –(ok slow down), I continued “maybe do some work with the Botanic Gardens and so anyways I had to move to be closer to work, Angus is a real slave-driver (seriously dude, slow the fuck down) and Bill mentioned there was a room going here, he just let me in just before you came, he hasn’t given me a key or anything”. Davie laughed a little nervously, his eyes twinkling as he reached across the table to me “Relax, Stuart”, he said, “I can tell since we’ve given you little notice to meet us and you’re probably a bit nervous” His whole look was that of a trendy student-professor type, I think he said he worked in Caledonian or one of the others. His hand gently touched my forearm. “now tell me, why are you all wired up?” (Fuck he knows!) “Did Bill really give you such a terrible impression of us?” (Oh nevermind).

 

I laughed and distractedly patted my hand on Davie’s. “Sorry guys, you’re right, you caught me at a bad time – I had to race across town from another meeting, and I guess my body’s still in that Speedy-Gonzales-mode”. Blair’s eyebrows raised and he shot a look to Davie. He asked “So where was it you were coming from, lad?” “Oh, em, a sorta friend I guess” I replied.  “And does this “sorta friend” have a name?” Blair continued. (Why all of a sudden did I feel like I was back in Skye being asked who I was meeting by my parents, when I going off to blow the vicar’s son Aldous – but that’s another story).  “His name’s Pedro” I replied, “he’s a new acquaintance I guess”. Blair and Davie smiled back at me “ah, that sorta friend” Blair laughed. Davie smirked “I knew you were gay the second…” he took a breath “the second Bill told us on the phone”.  They both broke out laughing. Smug bastards. “Well we’re sorry we interrupted your budding sorta-friendship”. I laughed too, they seemed to get me. I piped up, “and to answer your question Davie, Bill did not give me a terrible impression and he definitely didn’t tell me how fit you guys are! When I think of a pair of gay landlords I would never have thought of the pair of you – I see ye both as gym instructors maybe” I quipped (ok – tone it down Stuart). Davie looked at Blair and said “well, flattery will get you everywhere!” Standing up, he said “well we should really show you the room, before you make poor Pedro jealous”

 

With that we went up the stairs to the room. The narrow room was pretty bare with a bed and mattress in to the right as you opened the door. To the left was a wardrobe and chest of drawers with an ashtray on it and after that a sink. The room’s real feature was its Georgian windows facing out over the garden and an original fireplace – vital for keeping the place warm in winter. Davie was just finishing “and when we renovate, that’s where the pelmet will be”. I was not looking at where he was pointing (what the fuck is a pelmet anyway?) but at the gap of pale skin he left exposed from his fitted check shirt to his cords. Was that line a cum-gutter? Nice six-pack Davie! And the lad was obviously packing too from the way he was standing. ‘Stuart?” Davie asked me, smiling as I tore my eyes away from his crotch, “ I was asking you if you were had a boyfriend or anything? The room might be a bit small for a couple” “Oh, no” I replied, “just a few sorta friends” I joked. Blair was standing behind me, and reached over me to pick up the ashtray. I could smell his spicy aftershave and thought – If I can smell them, are they smelling Pedro right now…? “Looks like Bill’s been smoking his wacky-baccy in here again” Blair said as he emptied the ashtray. Davie smirked, “Fuck I’d kill for a joint right now” Blair replied “Fuck, I’d fuck for a joint right now” I laughed at the two of them and then I thought of the joint that Pedro left me.  Blair lifted up my jacket that he’d brought from the kitchen. “Looking for something?” he asked, and with that he pushed me onto the bed.

 

“What’s going on?” I asked mock-innocent, Blair pulled out the giant joint that Pedro gave me. “What do you call this laddy?” he barked. “You don’t honestly think we hadn’t realised you’ve been fucked up the entire time you’ve been here?” Davie sat down beside me and put his hands on either side of my face “Honestly, Stuart! Your eyes are as big as plates. Look at me for a second”. I was freaking the fuck out. “Wait”, I gasped, “I can explain”. I looked up to see Blair and Davie saying something about “are we doing this?” I immediately thought “this” was “calling the police”. “Guys, wait, look I’m sorry” I appealed to them, “You’re right I’ve been a bit stoned since I came here” I lied, “I thought it would calm me down, but it’s wound me up instead and now I’ve made a balls of the interview” I stood up and turned to the two of them on the bed. “Please, if there’s anyway I can “unfuck-up” this meeting let me know” Blair and Davie looked at each other and smiled. Blair turned to me and said “So you think you can come into our home, and get baked and flirt shamelessly with the two of us, all for what – to get a room?” “No” I denied, “I honestly just want to live with Bill – he’s been a friend from childhood and we get on well – I’m never normally this baked – I just got stoned with Pedro on a new strain of weed, and I guess I didn’t react well to it”

 

Davie pulled out a lighter and lit up the spliff in Blair’s hands, he asked “is this the same weed Stuart?” as Blair took a deep drag. “So let’s see what effect it has” Davie continued and with that took a drag himself, his perfect lips drawing in the fumes, his blue eyes holding eye-contact with me before disappearing in the exhaled smoke. “Fuck, that’s strong stuff” Blair muttered, then asked “so what else did you and your stoner friend Pedro get up to?” I gulped, I knew where this conversation was going – at least I thought I did. Davie knelt up on the bed, all the while staring straight at me. He whispered something to Blair, who, laughing, said “yeah that’s a good idea”. As they were talking I realised just how fucked up I was, my knees were actually full-on trembling! “Stuart” Blair asked, “I want you to show us what you did with your friend Pedro, what happened first?”

 

I hesitantly replied “um, I know Pedro through a fuck-buddy of mine”, I took a deep breath, and thought - well here goes nothing, “I went to his apartment at 4 o’ clock and the door was ajar. He was kneeling on the bed waiting for me, smoking a spliff” “Like this?” Blair interrupted and kneeled up on the bed beside Davie, taking a drag of the spliff, and then released it and asked “and what did you do?” Both watched me intently like cats that have their prey cornered and are just waiting for the right time to pounce. “Fuck this” I thought to myself, “go balls deep or go home” and facing my landlords, I quickly pulled off my top, slid off my underwear and trousers and stepped naked in front of them. “Then I sucked his cock” I said, and knelt down in front of them, licking my lips.

 

Davie’s cords took no time to unbutton, and sure enough he was sporting a sizable cock at about 7 inches but almost that again in girth – a proper coke can cock. As I knelt and freed his cock I looked into both of their eyes. They were just as mesmerised by the scene as I was. Freeing Blair’s cock took a little more time – one-handed while stroking Davie’s cock it took a while to get the strong zip on the Blair’s leather pants down. It was then I realised they were shaved their pubes. I took Davie’s cock in my mouth while looking up at both of them. I ran my fingers over the day-old stubble up to their hard firm stomachs. Davie took a pull of the joint and then passed it down to me. After taking a toke I swapped over to Blair’s dick. He too was about 7 inches but not as thick as Davie and with a bright purple head. Blair pulled up his tight black t-shirt up revealing his abs and pecs as I swallowed his cock down to the root. Davie started to play with Blair’s obviously enhanced nipples and he shuddered as I picked up pace. “The boy sure knows how to suck cock” he said, eyes closed with one hand grabbing the back of my head. He then started bucking into my mouth. I gagged a little but went with it, loving how full my mouth was feeling. Meanwhile Davie bent down to help me with Blair’s cock, and we battled it out with our mouths over it – making a tunnel for it between our mouths, and then we found ourselves kissing passionately. I was kissing Davie, Bill’s insanely hot landlord, unbuttoning his shirt and running my hands over his smooth pale chest. His pillowy lips engulfed mine and his tongue rose up to enter my mouth and I opened my eyes to see his crystal blues staring straight back at me. I felt this odd surge of emotion through me and it felt like Davie was feeling it as well.

 

When I went down on Davie’s cock, Blair came around behind me and whispered two things into my ears, “We knew you were high as soon as you started babbling in the kitchen” and “we know it’s not just weed you’re on”. Then he grabbed my hair and started vigorously throat-fucking Davie with my head. I nearly fucking choked, there were tears running down my face. “You want this room don’t you Stuart, but you need to convince us why we should give a junkie like you a chance”, he then leaned forward and looking me in the eyes he licked the tears from my face. “I’ll be your new fucking landlord, is that what you want?” Blair whispered in my ears as he jerked his lover off with my mouth. “What else are you on Stuart? You can tell me” “Omghfjhddf” is all I could manage to say – as my mouth was quite obviously in use. “What’s that?” Davie asked, jerking back my head off of his cock. I gasped for air, and ’fessed up, “I did some coke with Pedro, it was my first time, he said I’d be sober by the time I got to you”. Davie looked at Blair, they both blinked a few times and then erupted in laughter. “Right” Blair said, “where’s this Pedro live? We’re gonna pay him a visit someday, but not before I get my first load out. Davie, prepare the boy” Davie looked at me, and grinned and said “well done Stuart, you’ve done the right thing telling us”, and then scooted to my ass and shortly shouted up “Looks like Pedro’s done some damage here” and then I felt Davie’s tongue dive between my cheeks looking for the foamy traces of Pedro’s load.

 

Blair shoved me onto his cock as his partner licked me clean of Pedro’s seed. I deep throated Blair’s cock for all I was worth, banging my face on his defined abs and reach a hand up to play with his pumped up nips. Davie came up for air and got up on the bed facing away from me. “Get down on my lover’s ass boy” Blair barked and with no hesitation I dove right in. Even though he had looks like an angel, Davie had a well-worn hole that had seen some traffic – This was no young twink I was playing with. He opened quickly to my tongue and I licked off all the sweat of his day from him. Taking my cue from Pedro’s lingering ass-play I used my jaw and worked fingers into my routine. Davie was toking the remains of the spliff and grinding his ass back into me, loving the extra-special attention while reaching back to grab my cock. It didn’t really work so he turned around and ducked under me 69 style, presenting his hole to me while engulfing my cock.

 

While I started to rim Davie, Blair had been tasting Pedro out of my ass. When Davie switched up the positions on the mattress, Blair spoke up “I think the young slut has had coke up his ass – I can taste it”. I chuckled at this point and said “yeah you got me Blair, now will you shove something else up there?” Blair chuckled “Oh, ya finally grew a bit of a spine did ya?” I just reached back with both hands and pulled my cheeks further apart. “Hang on lad” Blair said, “I’ll destroy ye, take a hit of this first” and passed me on some poppers he obviously had had on him the entire time.

 

After a little bit of rearranging and me fumbling with the plastic seal for a bit, we were finally set. I was doggy-style diagonally across the corner of the bed sticking out into the centre of the room. Davie was under me, sucking Blair’s and my cock at the same time. I took the first hit off of the newly opened bottle. The room started to spin a bit as I reached back to give them to Blair. Moments later when he had his hit and passed them on to Davie, I felt Blair’s cockhead at my asshole. At this stage the poppers were properly lighting up inside me and added to the weed and coke my ass was on fire. Blair (with Davie’s guidance), got his cock about halfway up when I needed another hit of poppers. I kept thinking this would have been easier with a bit more lube than what Pedro left. This time I said down to Davie, “I’m gonna finger your ass, and I want you to guide Blair in the same way I’m fingering you”. Then I licked my thumb and taking a deep hit of the poppers I guided it down to Davie’s spit-slick tunnel until I reached halfway, then I started to pull and push slowly working my way deeper into his well fucked hole. Seconds late I felt Blair’s cock push and pull inside me and I smiled, ‘that’s it, yeah!” Working in two more fingers I got the thumb, index and middle finger in to the second knuckle and started to gentle rock them in and out of Davie’s sphincter. Sure enough Davie got Blair to follow suit, and we soon had a decent rhythm going where I’d slow Blair down or speed him up depending on my finger-fucking of his lover. Davie wanted more and more of me in his ass, and his eagerness lead to me increasing the pace of my fingering and thus my own fucking. I’d say Davie had been fisted a few times, and if I had the right lube I would have tried it, but maybe next time.

 

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. For a few seconds time stood still, as we locked gazes. Then Blair started to shout "oh fuck yeah" as pounded my ass while he came. I held to Davie and passionately kissed him while one handedly getting to cliamx myself. I felt that I could feel every drop of Blair’s juice’s swimming in my gut and while looking into Davie’s wonderful blue eyes, I started to lose it myself and cum a fullbody shuddering orgasm. I came all over Davie’s stomach and he chuckled at my orgasm face. Then, looking down at the jiz he frowned and said “pity, next time I want that inside me”. I smiled, raised and eyebrow and said “does that mean I have the room?”

[FatFuckPigMA]

That was a fun, hot, and well constructed story.

[fisterm8]

can you send pedro through to Dundee plz

[Rufus]

I think I enjoyed reading this story more then any other story on this forum to date. Thank you so much for sharing!

[rough-one]

Thanks for all the comments guys, I appreciate the feedback. Fisterm8 - Sadly Pedro's now in the US and not in Scotland anymore! He was (and I'm sure, still is) and amazingly talented fuck. I'll post another installment in a week. Cheers

[UseItGood702]

... and I know EXACTLY what I'm doing next time I pNp...

[Relaxedlad]

Really enjoyable, can't wait to follow Stuart's journey!

[ffnycbttm]

Hmmm where in the states perhaps I should visit him:-)

[rough-one]

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 asswalls as I started to lose it myself and cum a fullbody 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 let's not let the coke fuck up a nice budding friendship, your confidence is attractive, but most 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 fat juicy knob, it was strangely fatter in the middle than at the root or the tip. There was no problem with that - the only problem was that Lurch was an exclusive bottom, so I flipped him round and fucked him for all I was worth. He screamed the house down and afterwards smoking a spliff, told me it was the fuck of his life. 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 (for 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, even through a short-term relationship or two, 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 or more 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 before smartphones) 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.