27th November 2003: I loved this story when I wrote it but it didn’t make the impact that I was hoping for. It was based on a holiday to Corfu during which I paid a visit to Kavos and the descriptions of what I found there were largely accurate. It was almost a single-sex environment that particular year, with loads of lads wandering about looking for the girls and sex that the tabloid press has flashed across their front pages the previous summer.
The first suggestion of what was to come was in a joke my mate Paul made on the first night.
Even after we’d visited just two or three bars, it had become clear that our week at Kavos wasn’t going to turn out to be the shagfest that we’d expected.
There just didn’t seem to be any women around.
So after a couple of hours, Paul had started getting pissed off. The six pints he’d managed to put back since we’d arrived on the island weren’t exactly helping.
His hopes had been high. He’d joked he’d managed to fit all his clothes, toiletries and suntan lotion into his hand luggage: his suitcase had been exclusively for condoms.
Added to that was the fact that his Manchester United top fitted him nicely and looked good on his well-worked chest, but no-one was looking. Except for dirty glances by guys wearing the strips of other football teams, but those didn’t really count.
He said, “This sucks. And not in the way ‘The Sun’ made out it would…”
I’d tried a consoling, “Maybe all the girls are staying in tonight… washing their hair or something…”
Paul had snapped, “Come on, Daz. You don’t pay four hundred quid and fly halfway across Europe to stay in and wash your fuckin’ hair…”
“Well maybe they copped already…”
“It’s only half eleven, mate… they can’t all have fuckin’ copped off…”
There were some girls around, but they were few and far between and most of them looked as if they were already in established relationships.
I tried, “Okay, so where are they all? There must have been some action going on to have caused all the headlines in the papers over the last few months…”
He snarled and took a swig from his seventh pint which had just arrived. “You know what the British papers are like… we might have known it would all turn out to be a load of bullshit…”
“More likely it was going on a couple of months ago. The reputation the place got as a resort for slappers must’ve made all the girls who had booked up to come here cancel and go elsewhere…”
Paul threw a furious glare at me over his pint as he took another drink from it.
I shrugged. “It’s not my fault…”
“It was your fuckin’ idea.”
“Yeah and I didn’t exactly need to spend hours convincing you…”
He glowered at me for a few seconds more but then, no doubt remembering how eager he’d been to visit the notorious ‘sun-sand-sea-sex’ resort when I’d shown him a cheap last-minute deal in the paper, had looked away.
He said, “I bet the reason we got such a good price was because of all the babes who were cancelling over the last few weeks…”
Then he’d made the joke that should have, in retrospect, given me the first inkling of what was to come.
He said, “Sorry, mate. I don’t mean to have a go at you. Don’t get pissed off with me. After all, the nearest thing we get to coppin’ off this week might be screwin’ each others’ arses.”
I’d smiled and he’d laughed, punching my shoulder affectionately.
He’d done a ‘no hard feelings’ routine and we’d moved onto other stuff.
It took another couple of hours for another joke to be made.
By now Paul was totally pissed and I was halfway there. We’d started chatting, in the absence of anything better to do, to a couple of guys from North London. The first was a thin, slightly rough-looking cockney wideboy whose name was Jason, though he insisted we call him Jase. He was an electrician and had brown hair which he’d obviously had bleached at some point in the fairly distant past. His mate, who introduced himself as Willows and, in fact, whose first name I don’t think we ever found out, had a broader, more athletic build and short blond hair. He was a bricklayer.
Like Paul and I, the two of them had been mates since school and had come to Kavos with the soul intention of pulling a rapid succession of girls whose few inhibitions had been swept away by a few glasses of Babycham.
It was two or three in the morning and Jase was bemoaning the absence of anything remotely approaching the definition of female.
Paul had said, “Yeah. It’s like being in fuckin’ prison. Except that we paid four hundred quid for the privilege of being here…”
Jase had said, “There must be like five thousand guys here on holiday. And about three girls…”
Willows had grinned. “Pity we’re not gay. It’d have been like coming to heaven…”
I smiled but shook my head. “I don’t think many gay guys would like being around five thousand straight guys. I mean, it’d get kind of frustrating…”
Willows chuckled, “Five thousand straight guys with one thing or their minds. Most of us so fuckin’ horny we wouldn’t mind be too fussy about what we were screwing’…”
Paul surprised me by laughing too. He said, “Too fuckin’ right. Come to think of it, a few gay guys might come in useful round here.”
Then he repeated the joke he’d made earlier when we’d been alone.
He turned to me and said, “It’d save us fuckin’ each others’ arses, wouldn’t it, Daz?”
I smiled but made a curt reply. “I ain’t gonna shag anyone’s arse, Paul.”
The topic was dropped until we went up to Jase and Willows’ room at about four in the morning. They’d been out to an off-licence that afternoon and had bought four crates of Mythos, the local beer.
We slouched around on their twin beds, drinking and exchanging stories of London and Manchester, enjoying a fresh breeze wafting through the open balcony doors.
At one point, Willows surprised us by saying, “I really wanted to cop tonight. I’m so fuckin’ horny I could put an ‘ole in the ceilin’.”
Paul chuckled but at first I didn’t know what he meant. Then I saw he was gesturing to the front of his white shorts, in which the hard rod of his erection was clearly visible.
Jase said, “The papers reckoned there were loads of girls with their tits out, givin’ head in the bars and stuff…”
Paul shrugged. “We know… why do you think we came…?”
Willows made a joke like, “Well I’ll give you some if you’ll give me some,” and Paul laughed.
But that was as far as it went that night.
On the way back to our hotel, we saw a couple who were obviously having sex in the back alley behind one of the bars.
Even though it was still dark and they were partially obscured behind one of the rubbish skips, it seemed pretty clear that there was a guy screwing a girl up against the wall.
I laughed, “At least someone’s getting a bit of pussy…”
Paul lingered, watching them.
I tried to pull him away, “Come on, mate… leave them to it…”
He said, “Hey – it’s the nearest thing we’re gonna get to some action tonight… you can’t blame me for prolonging the moment.”
I watched what was going on for a few seconds but rapidly became bored by seeing a guy’s arse bucking in and out behind the skip. I pulled Paul away by the arm again, laughing, “Come on, you sick fuck…”
At that moment, the guy took a couple of steps backward. His shorts were around his ankles and his erection, curving upwards, was clearly visible in the orange glow of the neon street light.
He pulled off his condom and threw it down to the ground. Then, in an act which struck me as a bit odd, he spat on his fingers and rubbed up and down his arse cleft with them.
He did it again, this time working his fingers into his arsehole, and I glanced at Paul.
He was staring at the guy, as bemused as I was by this unusual turn of events.
Then the guy disappeared behind the skip and another guy emerged from it.
Like the first, his shorts were around his ankles and his cock poked upright in front of him. It’s size was quite outstanding: it was just as curved as the first guy’s had been but it looked much longer and thicker.
Paul whispered, “There’s two of them going at her. Maybe they’ll let us join in…”
The guy down the alleyway turned to look at us. He called out, “Hey – fuck off!”
Paul said, “Jesus – sorry…”
The guy went on, “We’re not exactly over the fuckin’ moon to be doing this… we don’t need a fuckin’ audience…”
I flushed with embarrassment. I felt like a pervert to be intruding on their fun.
Paul stammered, “Hey – we’re just curious…”
The other guy emerged, shouting, “Who the fuck’s that…” This was going from bad to worse. The noise was bound to attract the attention of people in nearby hotels. Worse still, I expected the girl would follow him and raise the volume level even further, compounding our discomfort.
The other guy took a look at us, his cock still arching upwards from his crotch like a branch, and said, “Like you two aren’t at it… like everyone here isn’t…”
Paul said, laughing a little to ease the tension, “We can’t get any, mate. That’s the problem…”
The guy with the bigger cock turned to his mate. He nodded and they grinned at other. Then he said, “Well come down here and we’ll give you some…”
Paul grinned back. “Yeah?”
Both the guys laughed. “Fuckin’ yeah. Why not? If you’re so curious…”
Paul turned to me and I threw him a mistrustful look. The chances were that these guys were up for a fight with us for disturbing their fun with a girl, but Paul shrugged dismissively as if I was being over-cautious.
He turned back to them. “Are you guys being serious?”
They nodded. Big cock said, “Yeah. What the hell…” He pulled out a condom and tore the wrapper open.
As Paul walked down the alleyway towards them, the guy unfurled the condom down his large engorged cock.
I followed Paul. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. Paul was pissed and horny and I knew from past experiences that, when he got himself into this state, he was liable to get himself into a lot of trouble for listening to his dick rather than his head.
When we reached the rubbish skip, Paul looked behind it.
He said, “Where’s the girl?”
The smaller guy grunted, “Huh?”
Paul looked confused. “You guys were fucking a girl…?”
The guy with the big cock wanked the condom up and down his length a little, restoring it to full stiffness. He laughed. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Einstein, there are about three girls here. And two of them are already hitched up…”
The other guy laughed too. “Girls are a fuckin’ luxury, mate.”
I realised what was going on and tried to pull Paul away.
He resisted and waved me off. “Who were you fucking then?”
The guy with the big cock laughed more loudly. “Jesus – do you I ‘ave to draw you fuckin’ diagrams or something?”
Paul looked bewildered.
The guy said, “I take it you’re new arrivals…” Then he turned to his friend. “Should we show him, Steve? Show him how to fuck the Kavos way…?”
The other guy – Steve – grinned and spat on his fingers again. Smearing his slaver around his arsehole, he looked at me and said, “Watch and learn, mate. This is the only action you guys are gonna get while you’re here…”
He turned to face the wall and bent forwards, his hands splayed against the back door of a club. His arse pointed outwards, his hairy cleft open and wet with his strings of his spit.
Then the other guy walked up behind him and pressed his huge cock against his mate’s hole.
He pushed a little way in and Steve gasped.
Paul said, “Oh Jesus…”
The guy pushed harder and an inch of his cock slid into Steve’s arse.
Paul turned to me and looked shocked.
I threw him a similar look and then looked back at the cock sliding into Steve’s arse. In less than ten seconds, more than half of it was inside the other man.
Steve looked back at us over his shoulder and said, his voice only slightly affected by his situation, “This is what Kavos does to you… a week here and we’re both taking cock like a couple of lifelong queers…”
His mate laughed and bent over his body. He wrapped his arms around his friend’s chest and pressed himself close, his chin against the back of Steve’s neck.
Then he started humping him, drawing his cock in and out in long, slow strokes.
I looked at his arse, bobbing up and down as he fucked the other man, and saw that, like Steve’s, the cleft was hairy and wet. He turned to see me looking at it and laughed, “Just ‘cos it’s wide open from his cock, don’t think it’s a chance to get a freebie. Any guy who fucks me has to get a pretty long taste of my cock up his own arse – ain’t that right, Stevie boy…?”
Steve said wearily, “Fuckin’ tell me about it…”
I noticed, though, that, despite his supposed boredom at it being his turn to be fucked, his own cock was still fully hard as it bobbed around between his legs.
We left them at it, the guy with the big cock starting to grunt and pant as he fucked the other man’s arse more roughly and hurriedly.
Paul almost had to be pulled away.
We didn’t say anything as we walked back to our room.
In fact, Paul only said one thing to me before we slept. He asked, “Would you go for that… having a guy fuck you if he let you fuck him…?”
I said, “No.”
And he nodded. “Me neither.”
Ten minutes after I’d put the light out I heard Paul masturbating in his bed. The bed-frame squeeked gently and rhythmically and there were occasional tell-tale slaps of palm against cock.
I thought, “Oh shit. This is going to take half an hour…” I’d shared a room with Paul many times before. I knew he wasn’t exactly a fast mover when it came to wanking.
But he came almost immediately; probably within two minutes of starting. It was so fast that I thought he must be sneezing or something until the characteristic smell of his semen wafted over me.
I turned over and went to sleep as he wiped himself off with his underwear.
On the beach the next day, Paul told Jase and Willows what we’d seen on the way back to our hotel.
They weren’t as freaked out by the revelation as I thought they would be.
Willows even made the joke: “Well it worked for us last thing, didn’t it, Jase… and it helped shift my constipation…”
Jase said, “Don’t even fuckin’ joke about it. It’s gross.”
Paul shook his head. “I dunno… those guys last night seemed to be enjoying it…”
“Come on, Paul,” I interjected. “Guys are supposed to shit through their arses. They’re not supposed to get fucked through them…”
Willows kept his joke running. “But if there’s nothing else on offer… second best is better than nothing at all.” He put his hand on Jase’s bare thigh and fluttered his eyelids at him. “Isn’t that right, darling?”
Jase pushed him off. “I didn’t come to Kavos to take turns playing Arthur and Martha with you, Willows.” Then he smiled. “I mean, we get enough of that back at home…”
I wondered if Paul would want to push things further – he seemed very interested by what we’d seen – and so I glanced over at him. I immediately noticed that the front of his swimming trunks had swollen outwards a little as if his cock struggling to lengthen in their tight confines.
He saw what I was looking at and stood up. Walking towards the sea, he muttered, “I’m going for a swim, guys.”
And so the topic died a death again.
But Paul returned to it that night. Repeatedly.
Whichever bar we went into, he’d look around, trying to spot the two guys who we’d caught screwing in the alleyway.
Jase grinned over at me at one point and said, “Hey, is your mate always so fascinated by queers?”
I smiled back. “Can’t say I’ve noticed it before…”
Paul said, “Hey – pardon me for having never seen guys fuck and finding it a bit weird. Just ‘cos you guys are totally comfortable with it…”
Willows laughed. “If you spot them, Paul, point them out to me. I could do with a good fuck tonight…”
Paul laughed back. “You’ll have to join the fucking queue…”
Jase looked towards me and raised his eyebrows. I shrugged.
At about one o’clock in the morning, Paul spotted one of them in a restaurant as we walked between bars.
Willows was clearly very interested. “Christ, you wouldn’t think he’d be up for gay stuff, would you. He looks totally straight…”
I said, “He probably is totally straight. He just needed a shag and there aren’t any women around.”
Jase looked disgusted. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t shag another guy’s arse, would you. I mean you’d have to be desperate…”
Willows shrugged. “It’s a hole. If it was dark and you were pissed enough you might not care…”
Jase threw him a surprised look. “I’m locking myself in the bathroom to sleep tonight, mate…”
A few hours later, I spotted the other guy from the alleyway and pointed him out to the group.
Paul said, “He’s with another bloke. D’you think they’re gonna go and fuck each other?”
I laughed. “How the hell would I know?”
Jase said, maybe intending it as a joke, “I thought the other guy looked upset when we saw him earlier. He must have been dumped.”
Paul shook his head. “Naaah… that’s the best part of it. They weren’t playing at being couples. It was just trade-off between them. Kind of like, ‘You can fuck me if I can fuck you’. Nothin’ emotional in it.”
I asked, “What do you mean, ‘the best part of it’?”
Paul went a little red. “I dunno… I guess I just meant that if two straight guys had sex together it would be purely sexual – they wouldn’t have to pretend that there was more to it than that, or make promises or anything…”
Willows nodded. “Yeah… you guys must see the appeal of that. Another guy wouldn’t behave like most girls I’ve screwed. You wouldn’t be thinking, ‘Oh shit, what am I going to say if I see her tomorrow… what’s she gonna do if she sees me with another girl…’.”
I began to find the succession of bars and clubs we were passing through less and less enjoyable. I noticed a strange atmosphere in them that I guess I’d subconsciously picked up on the previous night but hadn’t really been able to pinpoint. As the night went on the men around us were getting increasingly tense and aggressive. Sometimes this manifested itself in fighting and violence – and there were countless examples of that – but sometimes more subtly.
Horseplay among any group of pissed men is always a given, but what was happening here seemed a little different. Goosing was almost universal; ball-grabbing almost equally prevalent. You’d always expect a bit of that, but here in Kavos guys’ hands seemed to linger on other guys’ arses and crotches for longer than I’d ever noticed before.
Wherever we went, men were mock-fighting or shouting facetious insults each other. Again, it hadn’t struck me as odd on the first night, but now I took more notice. So many times a guy would jump on his mate’s back and hump his arse through their jeans and shorts. Or, in a scuffle between two lads which I would have ignored on the first night, I now saw that they were trying to push each other’s faces down into their crotches.
The crowd around would laugh at these bizarre displays by laughing uproariously and shouting “Take it like a man!” and “Up his fuckin’ arse!”
It really hit home when I was using the gents at the back of a bar late on the third evening, after Paul and I had unintentionally split up from Jase and Willows. The small, dimly-lit room was crowded with men and, as my cock was half-hard without me knowing why, I wanted to use a cubicle. It turned out, though, that they were all locked and, before I could turn and get out of there, I was pushed forward to the urinal. I realised that all the other men standing alongside me had full erections or were, like me, at half-mast. Some were making jokes about morning woodies or how difficult it was to piss through a stiffie.
One guy, at the far end to me, was making jabbing thrusts into the air with a full-on cock that looked as thick as his wrist, saying stuff about needing a pussy in front of him.
The atmosphere was thick and sexual, heavy and cloying with the urgency of male arousal. The overwhelming smell of piss, coupled with sweat and alcohol, seemed to intensify it. By the time I’d finished pissing my cock was fully hard and the yellow stream from the tip of it gave way to a gentle ooze of precum which hung in a wavering string from it.
I looked at the other guys’ cocks and found them in similar, throbbing states. Everyone looked at each other; each man comparing his size with those of his differently-proportioned neighbours.
The guy on the right of me was wearing an Arsenal football shirt and had a cock about three inches longer than mine. It hung outwards from his white shorts with a downward curve as if it was too fat and too heavy to stand fully upright on its own.
He grinned at me and said, “What I’d give for a blow job.”
The guy to my left replied, “What would you give?”
I turned toward him. He was shorter than me but looked as rough as a pitbull. His dark brown hair was cut short against his scalp and his eyes peered at the Arsenal fan’s cock as if with malevolent suspicion. Tattoos were scrawled across him.
The Arsenal fan laughed. “Oh I dunno. Maybe a blowjob in return…”
The sentence hung in the air between them, somewhere between a question and a statement.
Pitbull leered. He wanked his cock gently. It was short, maybe five inches long, and as thin as a marker pen. But in his dirty, tattooed hand it had an air of menace.
The cubicle door behind us swung open and three men came out.
Another guy tried to get in but Pitbull, with his cock still poking stiffly out of his jeans, got in the way and pushed him aside. He disappeared into it and Arsenal fan followed him.
Before they could close the door, two other men pushed their way in. They said something and Pitbull asked if they had ‘johnnies’.
I pushed my cock away and went to leave the toilets.
As I walked past the open cubicle, I saw the four of them standing around in a circle, their stiff cocks poking out from their jeans and shorts. Like their cocks were sizing each other up through their single slit-eyes.
As they agreed on their terms and the door began to close, a guy came up behind me and rubbed his erection into my arse.
I turned to him, becoming apprehensive, and he smiled. “You wanna fuck?” He sounded Scottish and seemed about eighteen.
I just stared at him and he laughed, “A fuck for a fuck, a suck for a suck.”
I shook my head. “No… no… sorry…” And left the toilets.
When I got back to Paul I told him about what had happened.
He wanted to know exactly where the toilets were. He’d been to some different toilets in the same club – marked as female, but since there were so few here they were used by everyone – but hadn’t found the ones I’d been in.
About five minutes later he disappeared and I couldn’t find him for over half an hour. I suspected he’d gone to pay a visit to the gents to see what was going on for himself, but didn’t want to return to them to find out.
On the way back to our room that night he asked, “What do you think it would feel like to have a guy suck your dick, Daz?”
I went quiet for a minute and then replied, “Look Paul, I don’t want to know. Okay?”
When we got back he didn’t masturbate. This time, the strong smell of his cum hit me as he pulled off his trousers. The front of his boxers were still damp.
I said, mildly, “Looks like you came in your pants.”
He grinned. “Naah. It’s some guy’s spit.”
I didn’t laugh and so he laughed for me. “Just fuckin’ jokin’, Daz! No need to get so fuckin’ hung up!”
I turned off the light.
The next day, while we were having breakfast with Jase and Willows in one of the tavernas, Paul urged me to recount our experiences. “Go on, Daz. Tell them about the toilet in that bar… tell them…”
I waved him off. “No – you tell them. You were in there longer than I was…”
“I didn’t go anywhere near it!” It was obvious he was lying, he was so bad at doing it. He even blushed a little.
I shrugged. “Guys were trading blow jobs and stuff. Maybe more, I dunno.”
Willows laughed. “That’s nothing compared to what we saw…” He looked at Jase, “Should I tell him?”
Jase shrugged. “I dunno…”
Paul was eager to hear full details so Jase continued.
“We were trying to find you two and walked down towards Madisons. Halfway there, in that big car park near the beach, some guys were fighting. We just avoided them but then the crowd around them started shouting, “Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him,” and stuff like that.” He looked at Jase. “You saw it first, didn’t you…?”
“Yeah,” Jase nodded. “I thought they were like wrestlin’ or somethin’.”
“One of the guys had got the other on the ground,” Willows continued. “But instead of laying into him, like you’d expect, he yanked the back of the guy’s shorts down and pulled out his own cock to slap the guy’s arse with it.”
Paul almost fell off his chair. “Then what happened?”
Jase laughed. “What do you think?”
Paul was agog. “What? He got fucked? Right there in the car park?”
Willows looked ecstatic. “Yeah! Right up his shitter!”
Paul looked at me, his eyes wide and mouth grinning. “Jesus!”
I said, flatly, “So you guys think it’s really funny that a guy was raped?”
Willows waved his hand dismissively. “He was fuckin’ lovin’ it. He was laughin’ while he was being screwed, sayin’, ‘You owe me big time for this, Macca, you owe me a shag with your bird when we get back home…’.”
“I thought you said they were fighting.”
“They were only messin’. You know how guys are when they’re pissed.”
Jase finished, “And horny.”
The three of them chuckled.
I said to Jase, “I thought you said you found that kind of stuff disgusting?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t look that bad. Not as bad as I thought it would. Different to what I’m used to, I guess, but not disgusting.”
Willows laughed, “We’re discovering a new dimension to our friendship…”
Jase grinned and mock-punched him. “Fuck off! I’m not saying I wanna try it, I’m just saying it didn’t creep me out like I thought it would.”
Paul nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought the other night when we saw those guys in the alley.”
Over the next few afternoons, on the beach, I noticed more and more the number of men who were developing erections inside their trunks. I guess it had been happening since we got there, but it must have taken me a few days to tune into it.
Among the four of us, Paul was the one who seemed to throw stiffies most frequently.
I let it go a few times, but when he seemed to be sporting wood regularly and unashamedly inside his already tight-fitting speedos, I had to make a joke about it.
He was lying on his back, the crotch of his trunks pointing upwards like a pyramid, and I said something about being able to tell we were nearer the equator by the length of the shadow from Paul’s cock.
He didn’t even look my way. He just muttered, “So fuck if I bone up now and then. I ain’t gettin’ any oats, it’s gonna happen…”
Willows grinned at me and shrugged. “If you’re gonna jip Paul about it, it’s gonna take you a while to do the same to every other guy on the beach who has a horn-on…”
Even Jase commented, “There aren’t many girls, if you hadn’t noticed, Daz. Wanking’s okay for a couple of nights, but the beast soon gets restless…”
Willows and Paul chuckled. Paul’s cock seemed to swell further inside his speedos.
I noticed that Willows liked to get a good look at Paul’s and Paul seemed to enjoy letting him. Willows would sprout his own fairly often, though not as frequently as Paul, and it looked large and thick inside his swimming shorts.
Even Jase threw the odd hard-on and, if I’m honest, so did I. Some afternoons, the atmosphere on the beach became similar, though far diluted, to the way the atmosphere had been in the toilets on that third night. So many men wandering around with erections making rods inside their trunks seemed to fuel a mass sensation of sexual tension. And the more men that got stiff, the more intense the feeling of anticipation became.
I’d never known anything like it. It wasn’t like the way I feel when I’m walking a girl home and I know there’s a screw in store for me at the end of it. It was rougher, more carnal: an enveloping sense of urgent, masculine lust.
“So many cocks, not enough pussies,” as Jase commented one afternoon when the four of us and everyone around us seemed to be hard.
“But plenty of arseholes,” as Paul had replied, amidst laughs from the other three of us.
About five days in, Paul’s hard-on became so insistent that it lasted until we got back to our room to shower after an afternoon on the beach.
Jase and Willows were with us – the four of us were virtually living together in our two rooms by this stage – and Paul was making comments all through the walk back, “Still there… yup, still fucking there… yeah, he’s not going away…” while the three of us chuckled.
When we got back to the room, Willows said, “Come on then, mate. Let’s see it. We’ve heard so fuckin’ much about it…”
Paul went a little coy. “No! You’ll laugh…”
Willows grinned. “No we won’t, you tosser. We’ve seen it inside your trunks all fuckin’ week anyway…”
Paul said, “It’s not as big as yours, I know…”
Willows grinned more broadly, “Few men come close…”
There were jokes about how Paul would know the size of Willows’ cock and why Willows was the expert on penis size, and then Paul pulled off his trunks.
His cock bobbed out in front of him, looking red and sore from its afternoon of confinement. It was about six inches long and arched upwards into the air, the foreskin fully retracted and the dark purple head exposed.
His balls swung around below it, in their bush of light brown hair, as he threw his trunks towards his wardrobe.
The three of just stared at it and Paul went a little red. He smiled, “And for that free peep show, I’m getting the first shower…”
There was instant uproar because hot water in the hotel seemed in very short supply. If you filled the sink up to shave, it seemed to exhaust the boiler.
But Paul got in first, with Willows in hot pursuit. He was shouting, “You’ve got two minutes, then I’m coming in, mate.”
Jase called out, “We should have the shower first, not you. Compensation for having to look at your disgusting cock…”
Paul called out, “Fuck you!”
I noticed that when Willows pulled down his swimming shorts, his cock was as long as Paul’s erection, and probably thicker, even though it was limp.
I called out, “Watch out, Paul, here comes King fuckin’ Dong,” as Willows walked into the bathroom.
There was laughter from inside and then Willows said something derogatory about Paul’s arse. The two of them started taking the piss out of each other, amused at how insulting they could get, and their laughter sounded loud and amplified in the confines of the bathroom.
Jase went out onto the balcony. He looked over at the balcony of one of the rooms in the hotel opposite on which a guy was sitting, smoking.
He said, “He’s the only guy who I’ve seen fucking a girl this whole week.”
I laughed. “How did you see that?”
“The other night. Here. You must have been too pissed to remember. He left the balcony doors open and he was fucking her in his room.”
“You sure it was a girl?”
“Yeah. She had tits.”
He smiled. “She was a fuckin’ girl. I haven’t been here so long that I don’t know the difference, mate.”
“You should have woke me up. That’s kind of a rare sight. Five-hundred points in my Kavos I-Spy book.”
He didn’t smile. Maybe he didn’t know that series of children’s books.
He went on, “The three of us watched them at it. It was a bit sad for us. You know, we were feeling a bit nostalgic, I guess…”
I smiled and then he said, “What the fuck are those two doing in there?”
The noise from the bathroom had died down.
He walked into the room and I followed him.
Pulling down his shorts and kicking them off, I saw that his cock was similar to mine. About four or five inches limp and with a long foreskin that completely covered its head.
He walked into the bathroom and, paused, and then called out in a slightly shocked voice, “What the fuck were you two doing?”
There was an immediate joint reply of, “Nothing!”
Then, “You were fuckin’ wanking each other off. For fuck’s sake, we’ve only two more nights here… can’t you fucking wait…”
Paul said, defensively, “We were just washing each other’s dicks.”
Willows giggled, “Yeah… you know… as you do…”
Jase seemed appalled. “For God’s sake, you guys…”
The two of them got out from the shower and Jase got in.
They came out from the bathroom, slightly shamefaced, with their subsiding erections clearly visible underneath their towels.
Paul looked at me as he got dressed and I undressed for my shower. He muttered, “You won’t say anything about this…? I mean, when we get home…?”
I smiled. “Come on, mate. Course I fuckin’ won’t.”
He smiled back.
On the way out, as I locked the door of the room with Jase – Paul and Willows having gone on ahead of us – he said to me, “You know, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I shouldn’t have had a go at them for wanking each other off in the shower.”
I checked that the door was properly locked and we walked down the corridor.
I asked, “Were they actually wanking each other?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Another minute and the floor of the shower would have a bit slimy…”
Then he went on, “I guess it’s natural to want to get our rocks off any way we can, while we’re all here, feeling horny, desperate for a shag…”
I nodded. “Yeah. If they want to do that kind of thing. it’s fine by me. I couldn’t care what they get up to…”
He said, speaking slowly as if choosing his words carefully, “Maybe the… er… four of us… should… you know…”
I turned to look at him. I think my eyes must have been wide, like I was horrified. Actually, I was just surprised.
He finished, “I mean, the four of us should meet up when we get back. Swap phone numbers and stuff…”
I smiled. “Yeah… yeah… that’d be cool…”
That night when we got back from what passed as the Kavos night-life at about five in the morning, we sat in our room, with Jase and Willows, drinking cheap Greek beer and listening to the distant beat from the last remaining club.
Willows said, suddenly, “I saw a girl on her own in that last club we were in…”
Jase looked amazed. “Why didn’t you say something…”
Willows shrugged and grinned. “I wasn’t that interested. I’d had a sesh in the toilets with a guy with a ten inch dick. I was all spent up for one night.”
Jase looked irritated at Willows attempts at humour. “Okay smart-arse, so why didn’t you tell one of us.”
Willows threw him a salacious smirk. “I was saving you guys for later…”
Jase looked pissed off.
Paul, who was out on the balcony watching the clubbers stagger back from their nights out, rushed in eagerly.
Grinning broadly, he said, “You’ve gotta see this guys. You know that guy who we saw shagging a girl the other night…? He’s at it again. But this time he’s fucking a guy…”
The three of us got up. I muttered, “It’s probably another girl… where the fuck does he find them?”
Paul shook his head. “It’s a bloke. He’s got a cock. They were taking turns to suck each other off when I noticed them…”
Jase laughed, “Wow! Even Mister fuckin’ Big Cock has to take it both ways sometimes…”
We went out onto the balcony and peered across the gap between the buildings, picking out his room from the many others.
It looked like it might be true: he was inside the room, balcony doors open, standing behind someone who was bending in front of him, holding their hips and fucking them quickly.
I said, “It could be a girl.”
Paul shook his head. “The person getting fucked has a cock like a donkey.”
“You can’t see it,” someone said.
“Yeah but I did before I called you guys out. It’s a guy. I’d swear my fuckin’ life on it.”
Just then the guy pulled out from his partner and squeezed something onto his hand. Then the other person stood up and turned to face him. His huge cock swung out in front of him like a pole.
Jase laughed, “Jesus. It’s a guy, alright.”
The guy whose room it was bent over the bed, assuming the same position of the man who he’d just fucked. He rubbed something into his arse and the other man walked up behind him.
Then the huge rod of the other man’s cock slowly disappeared into his arse.
Willows yelped. “Aah… that’s gonna hurt in the morning…”
And Paul: “Ooh. He could shit a fuckin’ baby after takin’ that…”
After that, we watched them have sex in silence for about fifteen minutes. They swapped positions frequently, one man having about two minutes of fucking and then the other man standing up to take his turn. It looked cold and methodical: passionless and unspontaneous.
It was so different from my own experiences of sex that I found it impossible to look away. The other guys were clearly experiencing the same sense of irresistible allure.
Willows had to adjust his cock a couple of times. I was going to make a comment about it but since mine had grown painfully hard within the first couple of minutes of watching them, I thought better of it.
When the first man came, his thrusting into the other speeding up into a frenzy as he unloaded his semen, Paul said, “Jesus…”
Then we watched as the other man took his place and relieved himself into the other’s arse.
Willows said, distractedly, “It’s like they’re wanking, but using each other…”
I said, not sure whether I believed it, “I’d rather stick to my hand.”
Jase watched the man pulling out and removing his condom. “I dunno… maybe… I dunno…”
And then he seemed to remember himself and said, “Come on, Willows. The show’s over. We better hit the road…”
After the two of them had gone, Paul and I stripped down to our boxers. We glanced over at each other and found that we were both as hard as hell, making tents with small wet patches in our shorts.
We threw small smiles to each other.
As he got into bed, Paul said, “I’m gonna need to wank. No women for five days… my nuts are bustin’.”
I nodded. “I know what you mean.”
And so the two of us masturbated in our squeeky beds, laughing at first about how loud it sounded.
About five minutes in, Paul asked, “I know I asked you the other night, but what do you really think about trading sex with another guy? I mean, letting him fuck you if he’d let you fuck him?”
Neither of us missed a beat. Our hands worked at our dicks to almost the same rhythm.
After a few seconds I replied, “I dunno…”
He said, “Neither do I…”
3rd December 2003: The holiday continues with the lads getting increasingly horny and frustrated at the scarcity of girls at the resort. In their desperation, they turn to each other for solace…
Our last full day at Kavos was pretty much the same as all the others. We woke up at twelve, took a quick shower hoping the water would stay vaguely warm, went around to wake up Jase and Willows who were usually still asleep, ate a full English breakfast in one of the tavernas, had four hours on the beach, then went back to get changed and to go out for the night.
It seemed to be the routine that most of the lads staying at the resort had got themselves into.
The only thing that distinguished that day was what happened after we’d gone back to our room after the clubs had grown dull. We knew the ropes pretty well by then: it was obvious none of us had a cat-in-hell’s chance of pulling and so we stocked up on copious amounts of booze to while away the post-club hours.
That night we’d bought a few bottles of dirt-cheap vodka. Unfortunately, it didn’t mix too well with the beer we’d had in the Kavos bars and the four of us were soon so pissed that we could hardly stand up.
We arsed around doing all sorts of the stuff that pissed lads do, most of which I can’t remember. I vaguely remember fun-fighting with Jase on Paul’s bed and throwing a pair of Paul’s boxer shorts over the balcony at some lads who were walking home.
But other than that it’s a blur. Maybe we saw the guy in the room opposite shagging another of his conquests, but I don’t think so.
We must have settled down at about six in the morning, the four of us collapsing around the room on the beds and chairs. I think Jase tried to at least go through the motions of walking back to their hotel to sleep in his own bed, but he was so pissed that he couldn’t open the door and the rest of us just watched him and giggled.
I seem to think that I must have drifted off to sleep while Paul and Willows were talking. Jase was slumped unconsciously on my bed and so I took one of the chairs. It wasn’t that comfortable but I couldn’t be bothered to kick him off my bed.
At some point while they were chatting, I think I nodded off.
Next thing I remember it must have been an hour or so later. I awoke feeling really thirsty.
I walked to the bathroom door and found that it was closed.
I glanced around the room to see who wasn’t there so I could work out who it was in the bathroom. If it was Paul, I’d barge in. He wouldn’t care if I walked in on him taking a crap or something; we’d seen it all before. But if it was Jase or Willows I’d have to risk waking everyone up by knocking.
It was then that I realised that both Paul and Willows weren’t in the room with me.
I put my ear to the bathroom door and heard a gentle rhythmic sound coming from behind it. It was a wet sound, almost like someone chewing, with occasional soft slapping noises. There was a groan; it sounded like Willows.
I pulled back and thought, “Willows is having a wank in there.”
But then, “So where’s Paul?”
I’d noticed since day one that the door lock on the bathroom door was broken. The dial which should have read “Vacant” and “Engaged”, or their Greek equivalents, was missing and so there was a hole below the door handle. It hadn’t struck me as anything significant – like I said, Paul and I were comfortable enough with each other not to bother locking the bathroom door – but now I was grateful for the opportunity it presented.
I knelt down and looked through the hole.
I saw Paul’s face bobbing in and out from Willows’ crotch. Willows’ shorts and underwear had been pulled down and his cock, looking larger and thicker than I would have imagined possible, curved upwards from his dense bush of blond pubic hair. His equally hefty wrinkled balls swung around beneath it in time with Paul’s face.
I thought, “Oh my God. Paul is sucking Willows’ cock!”
I really couldn’t believe it: I’d known Paul for years and, although that week he’d seemed intrigued by the idea of gay sex, I guess I never seriously expected to find him having sex with another man.
I wondered if maybe Paul was bisexual but then remembered the stuff he’d said earlier in the week about how good it would be to have sex with other straight men as neither of you would want commitment.
And I remembered Willows’ jokes, betraying his own obvious fascination.
As straight guys go, they were well-matched!
At that point, Paul stood up and for a couple of seconds his cock poked upwards against Willows’. As I’d observed a couple of days earlier, Paul’s was much smaller – a good two inches shorter and much thinner.
I wondered if he felt a little inadequate in front of Willows’ larger cock. I wondered also, and couldn’t understand why the question had never presented itself to me before, if such comparisons caused problems in gay relationships.
Almost immediately Willows fell to his knees and I saw the side of his face as his mouth engulfed Paul’s cock. He feasted on it, pulling his face away and thrusting it inwards with long, rapid strokes.
I even saw his right hand reach up and play with Paul’s balls as his mouth did its thing. Willows was obviously totally comfortable with the idea of sucking another guy’s cock.
A voice inside my head said, “And why not? It’s the same equipment as he’s got himself. He knows exactly what to do with it…”
“But it’s disgusting,” I responded. “It’s another man’s knob inside your mouth…”
And the voice replied, “But just a couple of minutes later, it’s yours inside his. You know how good a mouth on your cock feels… does it make any difference if it’s some pissed guy’s mouth as opposed to some pissed girl’s?”
I felt my cock stirring inside my boxer shorts. The possibility was intriguing.
Willows pulled back from Paul’s cock and looked up at him.
He asked, “Just say no if you don’t want to, right… but would you let me fuck you if I let you fuck me?”
Paul was already whispering, “Shhh! For fuck’s sake, you’ll wake them up…”
Willows grinned. “Sorry” He pulled one of Paul’s pubic hairs out from his mouth.
Paul surprised me by saying, “We’d have to wear condoms.”
Jesus, he was actually considering it. I hadn’t expected him to say anything but an outright no. But then, I hadn’t expected to find Paul taking it in turns to suck cock with another guy in the bathroom.
Willows nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
He stood up so that their cocks poked into each other again.
Paul said what I was already thinking, “Yours is pretty big. I dunno if I’ll be able to take it.”
Willows paused briefly. “I’ll try and fuck you first, then. If it hurts too much, we’ll forget it.”
They didn’t touch each other or kiss or do any of the other things I’d regard as standard when I’m preparing to have sex with a girl. I kind of liked the fact they didn’t: sex purely for the sake of mutual relief rather than as any pretended expression of attraction. My cock was now semi-hard. I felt a little uncomfortable to have got into this state as a result of finding Paul and Willows getting it on together, but it was happening nonetheless.
Paul said, “If I can’t take it, d’you wanna just wank each other off?”
“I’d prefer to suck again. Maybe get down on the floor and sixty-nine or something…”
Paul’s cock lurched upwards in his excitement. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
I loved the fact they were talking so openly together about sex. It was a similar scenario to that I’d seen in the toilets: almost like a business transaction, two men were stating their preferences and negotiating on what they would be prepared to do to the other to achieve their own relief.
Paul moved towards the door. “I’ve got some condoms in my suitcase.”
I realised what this would involve and turned to crawl as quickly as I could towards the chair I’d been sleeping on.
As Paul opened the bathroom door and the light flooded out, I was halfway across the room.
Fortunately, he spent a couple of seconds fumbling with the pull-cord of the bathroom light, trying to turn it off. He didn’t see me clambering across the room on all fours in the weak dawn light coming through the balcony doors.
I accidentally nudged into Jase who groaned in his disturbed sleep, but by the time Paul had come out from the bathroom, I was slouched in the chair as if deeply asleep.
He walked over to his suitcase on the floor of the wardrobe, and unzipped it as quietly as he could. I opened an eye discretely and saw that he’d pulled his boxer shorts back up. The front of them were poking outwards with the rod of his stiff cock: the anticipation of what he was about to do was clearly exciting him.
He pulled out a pack of condoms and a tube of lube, and walked back over to the bathroom. Having closed the door as quietly as he could, I heard the light click on and saw its glow in the hole in the door.
Willows said something and Paul laughed loudly, causing Jase to groan in his sleep again.
I thought, “Oh fuck. Don’t wake up, for Christ’s sake. I’ve got to see them doing this.”
Willows called out, “Bend over, big boy!” and cackled. Paul shushed him but it was too late.
Jase turned over, muttered something, and then sat up.
I thought, “Oh you stupid fucking bastards! Why couldn’t you just keep it quiet in there…”
He looked over at me and I closed my eyes tightly.
After a few seconds, I opened one eye cautiously and saw that he was looking around the room, no doubt going through the same thought processes as I had done a few minutes earlier.
Paul voice rang out quite clearly from the bathroom, “If I say pull it out, you’ve got to, okay…”
And Willows replied, “Actually I thought I might butt-rape you…” Then he laughed, “Come on, Paul. What do you think I am? Of course I’ll pull it out, you stupid dork…”
Paul said something else and Jase stared at the bathroom door, no doubt wondering what the hell was going on in there.
He looked over at me again and I feigned sleeping.
Then he got up and walked over to the door.
I thought, “Shit, he’s going to walk in on them. Disturb them and make a scene like he did when they were wanking.”
But he didn’t.
Just as I had done, he knelt down and peered through the hole below the door handle.
At that moment, Paul gasped. He said, “For Christ’s sake, slower…”
Willows laughed. “Sorry… I’m a bit impatient…”
There was silence for a few seconds and then Paul gasped again.
Willows said, “You okay? Do you need to take a crap or something, before we get started?”
Paul chuckled. “No… I was gasping in surprise… that actually felt quite good…”
I saw Jase’s hand go down to the front of his shorts, his eye straining to get closer to the small bright hole.
Paul sighed again.
Willows said, “I’m about halfway in. Is that okay?”
“Yeah… it feels good… my cock’s stiff as hell…”
“I’m gonna start fucking you. Tell me if it hurts…”
Paul gasped and there was the distinct sound of a fart.
Willows giggled. “Sorry, mate. I came out… I’ll try again…”
There was a pause and Paul sighed a long groan, full of either pleasure or pain.
Jase glanced over at me and I closed my eyes again.
When I opened them, he was hitching down his shorts and releasing his stiff cock from his briefs. Its size was similar to my own: halfway between Paul’s thin six-incher and Willow’s engorged monster.
He returned his eye to the hole in the door and started slowly masturbating. His left hand grabbed his balls quite tightly and his right hand worked at his cock. His eye peered in at the two men in the bathroom, his tongue darting out of his mouth occasionally to lick at his lips.
The sounds from inside made it clear he was watching Willows fucking Paul; watching his friend fuck mine.
His hand grew faster on his cock following the developing rhythm of Paul and Willow’s gasps and grunts from behind the door.
Then he stopped and I realised Paul and Willows had too.
Paul was saying, “Chuck it in the loo but don’t flush it ’til we’ve used the others…”
Then Willows: “How many have you got?”
“Two more. I only pulled one packet out from my suitcase.”
“Okay. You cum in my arse, then, and I’ll fuck you again with the last one.”
“Yeah… I guess… but you’ve got to let me take my time inside you. To make it fair.”
As they repositioned themselves, Willows asked, “Have you ever done this with Daz?”
“You think he’d be up for it?”
“I dunno. I’ve wondered about it all week. But we’re good mates. We have to see each other a lot when we get back to England. It might mess things up between us…”
Willows considered this and then asked, “Do you think he’d be up for it with me?”
“I dunno… I think he’s desperate for a shag just as we are. So maybe…”
Then Willows grunted. “Fuckin’ hell – you could have warned me…”
“Sorry. I just kind of saw an opening and went for it…”
The grunting and gasping noises continued as Paul eased himself into Willows’ arse. I realised that most of the noises were coming from Paul: Willows seemed quite comfortable at receiving Paul’s cock. I guess Paul’s smaller size had its own advantages.
A wet, rhythmic slurping noise started up – the sounds of Willows’ arse being fucked. I smiled and thought, “Nice.”
My cock was aching inside my shorts, demanding the same attention that Jase’s was getting.
I decided to try something a little bold. I was fairly sure my gamble would pay off and thought that the rewards, if it did, were well worth the risk.
I stood up and walked over to the bathroom door.
Jase didn’t see me until I was almost right next to him.
Then he looked up at me, with a stunned expression, and froze.
I knelt down beside him and released my cock.
He looked at it and saw that it was in a similar state to his own.
I gestured to the hole in the door and he let me take a look. As I did so, I started masturbating.
In the bathroom, I saw Willows’ large cock bouncing around stiffly between his legs and his balls bobbing up and down. Behind those, the muscles of his buttocks rippled with each slapping thrust Paul’s hips made towards them. Behind the round cheeks of Willows’ arse, Paul’s cock was sliding in and out, its condom-ensheathed stem slick with lube. And behind that, Paul’s own arse, having so recently experienced the same sensations that Willows was now feeling, tensed and flexed in time with his motions.
Willows asked, “Do you fuck girls like this?”
“Not really.” Paul sounded breathless.
“How do you fuck them, then?”
“I dunno… faster, I suppose… rougher…”
“Well fuck me like that.”
“I thought I might hurt you…”
“Fuckin’ go for it. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”
Paul gripped Willows’ waist and started hammering his cock more aggressively into the other man’s arse.
Willows gasped, “Yeah… that’s it…”
Paul was grunting in time with his cock. “You like that?”
Willows chuckled. “Not really. But it means I can do the same to you when it’s my turn.”
Paul was enjoying too intensely it to care. “Yeah… okay…”
I felt something wet on my cock and looked downward. Jase was sucking at my bell-end as I masturbated. He looked up at me and smiled quizzically.
I nodded and he grinned and returned to it. I released my hand and he started gently moving his mouth along the length of my stem.
I heard Willows say, “You gettin’ close?”
Paul laughed between gasping for breath. “Nowhere fuckin’ near…”
“Come on mate… we haven’t got all fuckin’ day…”
“Hey – you’re getting two goes on my arse. It’s only fair I get enough time to enjoy myself…”
Willows sighed, “Jesus…”
Paul slowed his pace down and suggested, “Maybe if you stand over the toilet. Put one foot up on it. It’d give me a better angle.”
Willows complied, moaning, “Christ, trust me to pick the expert in butt-fucking…”
Paul laughed as they manoeuvred themselves into their new position. “Stop moaning… it’ll be your turn in a minute… or five… or ten…”
Willows repeated, “Jesus…”
Willows bent over the toilet, and Paul bent over the top of him, hugging his body closely as we’d seen the guys doing in the alleyway at the beginning of the week.
Because their backs were facing us, I could see Paul’s arse clearly. As he bent over Willows and started fucking him, Paul’s cheeks opened up and I saw his arsehole looking bright pink and wide open, still wet from the lube he’d applied to himself.
I thought, “You’ve just lost the last part of your virginity, Paul, mate… you’ve got an arsehole as wide as a coke can…”
It might sound a bit weird, but while I felt excited at seeing Paul like that, I also felt a little sad. His arse was gaping open so lewdly and promiscuously: the friend I’d known and cared about for years had just been buggered right in front of me and now his arse was gaping open like a whore’s pussy.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on such thoughts.
Jase pulled away from my cock and, when I looked to see why, he gestured to his own, poking expectantly upwards from his briefs.
Time for payback.
I bent over and moved my face near to his cock. It smelt different from my own: sharper and more pungent. I worried momentarily that this might be more difficult than I’d anticipated.
Jase’s face went back up to the hole in the door. As he did so, perhaps sensing my sudden uncertainly, he gently eased my head down onto his cock.
In spite of its smell, it tasted pretty bland. The head was a little wet from his precum and tasted, if anything, salty, but the stem tasted of nothing. I realised the thick smell from him came from his balls and his pubic bush: their smell from spending a day inside his briefs.
I started sucking him as he had done me, and he stroked my hair in encouragement.
Then I heard Willows say, “Jesus, Paul. You’re gonna have to get more johnnies. I need to fuck you, mate. You’re taking too long.”
There was a slurp and a fart as Paul, panting, withdrew.
Then a tear as the last packet was opened and Willows commanding “Bend over.”
More grunts and gasps as Paul was re-entered. Paul calling out, “No… no… it fuckin’ hurts…”
Another slurp as Willows pulled out.
The bubbling squirt from a tube being squeezed; the gentle wet rubbing of lube into Paul’s arse.
Willows saying: “Do you think that’ll be enough?”
Paul grunting his assent.
More moaning and sighing, but this time Willows being allowed to continue. A fairly rapid, rhythmic fucking noise starting up.
Paul saying, “Ah… yeah… that’s pretty good this time…”
I pulled my head away from Jase’s cock and looked up at him. He looked a little offended, like it wasn’t yet the end of his turn to receive.
I surprised myself by whispering, “D’you want to try what they’re doing?”
He nodded quickly and eagerly, almost automatically. Then he smiled.
I stood up and pulled off my boxer shorts. He did the same with his shorts and briefs.
Then I went over to my rucksack and pulled out a couple of packs of condoms. Unlike Paul, who’d had bad experiences with girls being too dry, I didn’t pack lube. But a squirt of my hair-gel seemed like a good substitute.
As I smeared it around my arse, I looked over at Jase. He looked a little bewildered but his cock was still stiff in his hand.
I smiled and threw him a condom, saying, “Your turn first, if you like…”
He unwrapped the condom and rolled it down his stem. “Yeah… whatever…”
Then I got onto the bed and knelt over on it on all fours. The metal bed-frame squeaked but the sound didn’t seem to disturb the grunting and panting sounds coming from the bathroom.
Jase climbed on it behind me.
To my surprise I felt his fingers probing around my arsehole. (If it had been my turn first, I’d have just shoved my cock between his cheeks and hoped for the best) He pushed one inside me and gasped, “Fuckin’ ‘ell, mate… you’re a bit tight down there. I don’t know if I’ll get it in…”
“Those two are managing it.” The noises from the bathroom were becoming louder as Willows enjoyed Paul’s arse to the full.
“Yeah, I suppose…”
He lined his cock up against my hole and pushed.
I felt my ring being forced open by him and it hurt like his cock was made of red hot metal.
I gasped, “Jesus…”
He said, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No… keep going…”
He pushed a little further in and the pain subsided.
I could feel the end of his cock filling the inside of my arse. It was thick and hot and I swear I could feel it pulsating gently, clamped in the grip of my rectum.
I said, “Jesus, I’m actually being fucked…”
He grunted, “Uh?”
I smiled, knowing he couldn’t see me. “Sorry… I was kind of stating the obvious. It’s just that… I dunno… I guess you’ll find out how it feels when I do it you…”
“Is it good?”
I let out a long exhale of breath. “I dunno yet… I’ll let you know when you get started…”
He pushed in a little further, holding onto my hips, and then reached round me and grabbed my cock. I was half-limp from the initial shock of his intrusion.
He said, “I kind of like the fact you’re a guy… I mean, I’ve buttfucked girls, but it turns me on a bit that you’re a guy…”
“Your gay side?”
“No I don’t think so… I love women and wouldn’t be without one… it’s just that it’s different and so I guess that makes it interesting…”
My cock lengthened in his hand as he drove the last few inches of himself into me.
He added, “I guess it’s like you said… you’ll know what I mean when you fuck me… but shoving your cock into another guy is totally… well… different…”
He started gently fucking me, the two of us slowly rocking back and forth in time with the light bucking of his hips.
I smiled. “That’s actually quite nice.”
His hand was still on my cock, now almost fully stiff. “Yeah… I kind of realised that…”
He started masturbating me as he gently fucked me. The bed occasionally groaned but his motions were too controlled for it to make any serious noise.
We heard Willows say, “Fuckin’ get more johnnies, mate… two more packs…”
Paul: “We’ll just suck… it’ll be okay…”
“No, I wanna fuck. Come on, mate… it’s been a fuckin’ week without any action. Don’t bottle on me…”
Paul muttered his reluctant acquiescence.
Then the bathroom light clicked off and the door slid open.
By now it was fairly light and Paul saw us immediately.
He said, “Jesus!”
I felt Jase grin but he didn’t miss a beat, neither inside my arse nor on my cock.
I turned from looking at the pillow in front of me to looking at Paul. He was wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
Jase said, “What’s good for the fuckin’ goose…”
A grin slowly spread over Paul’s face.
He repeated, “Jesus!”
Willows emerged from the bathroom, already smiling and with his huge cock standing upwards from his body like an extra limb.
He laughed, “You ‘orny little fuckers! You dirty little bum-boys!”
Jase and I laughed back.
Paul asked, “How long have you been at it?”
Jase said, “Not as long as you two, but we’re fast learners, aren’t we Daz?”
I smiled and reared upwards from the bed, falling backwards into Jase’s chest. My cock arched upwards in front of me, proudly announcing my own excitement, still being worked by Jase’s fingers.
I liked the feeling of being fucked in front of Paul and Jase. Maybe it was because I felt I was paying them back for having watched them fucking; maybe it was just that I like being an exhibitionist.
Willows laughed, “I tell you what would be really fuckin’ cool… two of us fucking the other two, standing up, side-by-side…”
We all went quiet, the only sound being the gentle squeak of our bed-frame as Jase continued fucking me.
Paul laughed and said, incredulously, “Ah… why?”
Willows was insistent. “I don’t fuckin’ know… it would just be really cool… believe me!” He walked over to us and pulled Jase away from me. “Come on, lads. Stand up. Side-by-side…”
Jase’s cock slid out of me and my arse slurped and farted like Paul’s had done.
He complained, “Aw, come on, Willows. I was really enjoyin’ that…”
Willows waved him quiet. “This’ll be much better… come on, Paul, mate. Get the fuckin’ johnnies.”
And so that’s how the four of us started.
We didn’t finish until about eleven o’clock in the morning. Even then, we’d have probably kept going but the coach to take us to the airport was due at half past.
The side-by-side idea worked pretty well. I fucked Jase and Paul fucked Willows, the two of us standing next to each other as our partner’s bent over Paul’s bed.
Jase had been right: it did feel weird fucking a guy. The sensations were all the same – a warm, wet, pleasant sensation around my cock – but the fact it was a guy’s body that I was sliding into gave everything a totally different angle. The lack of any affection between us seemed to give the pleasure a new edge. The experience was purely sexual with none of the emotional complications of the heterosexual encounters I’d had.
Boiling it down, it felt so good because we were having sex for the simple, unadulterated reason of achieving pleasure. None of us wanted any more or less.
I suppose it took me a while to realise that. At first, I was too blinkered by my own heterosexual past: I assumed that I was enjoying fucking Jase because I was, kind of, his friend. Maybe the liking we’d developed for each other over the past week was fuelling our desire for one another.
But it was when – after an hour of the four of us going at it hammer and tongs on each other – Paul came around behind me and pressed his cock against my now wide-open arse, I realised that I’d got it completely wrong. Our lack of serious friendship was what was enabling this to happen between Jase and I: we could only enjoy each other if we knew we would never meet again.
Paul wanted to fuck me but I shook my head. He looked surprised but I smiled and said, “We’ve got to see each other just about every day after this… if we do this, we’ll fuck that up.”
And he looked down blankly at my chest for a few seconds, as if reading the subtitles of what I’d just said, and then looked back up to my face and, with a nod, returned my smile. Only his was much warmer.
So I only fucked two of the three arses in the room that night, and was fucked by only two of the three cocks.
It was good to stand alongside Paul, each of fucking another guy’s arse: looking down at our own cocks sliding in and out of another man’s bum-cheeks; looking across at each other’s cocks as if comparing technique; and then looking up at each other’s faces, smiling and making jokes.
And it was good to bend over the bed alongside him, each of us getting fucked. We’d look at each other’s faces, both of us moving steadily against the mattress to the rhythm of the hips of the guy behind us. Then we’d look down at our cocks and joke that whichever one of us was getting fucked by Willows’ monster knob seemed, for some mysterious reason, to be not quite as stiff as the other guy.
Paul tried to get fucked by Jase while he was fucking Willows but that didn’t work.
I tried the same and it did. Paul called me a loose-arsed whore and laughed.
Then Paul fucked Jase and sucked on Willows’ cock. That was a bit more successful for him: he came buckets up Jase’s arse.
I came about twenty minutes later while Jase was fucking me. He loved to wank me while he fucked me gently and I guess I got a little overcome. Willows, who was wanking in front of me, cried out in horror as I came.
He shouted, “You bastard! I wanted to make ‘im cum! Jesus…”
But my seed was shooting geysers onto my chest and belly and the damage was well and truly done.
Afterwards, Jase and Willows took turns at each others’ arses on the bed while Paul and I cleaned up a bit. They didn’t seem to have thought ahead to how they were going to feel about what they were doing when they got back home.
As we cleared up the layer of slimy brown condoms littering the floor, Paul muttered, “Jesus, Daz – all those condoms I brought with me. Used in one night!”
“And a quarter of them ended up going up your own arse!”
He chuckled and then muttered, as if only slowly having realised the truth of what I’d said, “Jesus, you’re right… oh my God!”
As Willows was fucking Jase for about the fifth time on my bed, which was now squeaking like a rat in pain, Paul said, “I’m gonna open the balcony doors, guys. It smells of shit in here…”
Willows, hugging onto Jase’s chest as he fucked him, panted, “I wonder why that would be!”
As Paul opened the doors, I said, “Hey – looks like we’re giving the guy opposite a show…”
He was standing on his balcony, smoking a cigarette, and looked over at the movement of the balcony doors.
His idle, wandering gaze changed to a fixed, hardened stare when he saw Willows buggering Jase on the bed.
Willows turned and grinned over at him. Then he and Jase both gave him thumbs-up signs without missing a beat.
The guy on the balcony did one back and kept watching.
Paul went to take a shower and I sat in the chair, still naked, watching as Willows turned back to Jase and began fucking him with new-found energy. Willows rose up from Jase’s back, gripped his mate’s hips firmly and started making long rapid strokes into his arse, using almost the full length of his large cock. He was obviously enjoying being observed.
Jase gasped, “Fuckin’ hell, mate. Remember how big that thing is…”
Without his gaze leaving Jase’s back, Willows asked, “Is he still watching?”
I turned and looked through the open doors. “Watching? He’s entranced!” I laughed, “Actually, I think he’s playing with his dick behind the balcony. His right hand’s definitely doing something…”
Willows grinned and kept fucking Jase with firm, sweeping strokes.
Jase grunted and opened his legs wider on the bed. Willows muttered, “Atta boy… ”
As I sat and watched them, my cock, which had been hanging over my balls completely limp, began gradually hardening again.
By the time Paul came out from the bathroom and Willows and Jase were swapping positions on the bed, I was completely stiff.
I went for a shower to clean myself up, thinking, as I closed the door and was alone in the white tiled room, “What the hell have we been doing tonight…?”
When I came out, five minutes later, and walked back into the bedroom, Paul was in front of Willows, who was still being fucked by Jase, having his cock sucked.
I laughed, “New lease of life?”
He smiled at me. “It would have been impolite not to give the guy over there are return show. After all the times we watched him…”
I looked over at his balcony and saw that he was still watching our room, his hand now clearly working at his cock as events unfolded before him.
I finished drying myself, watching the three of them going at it: Willows feasting on Paul’s upward-curving cock while Jase slammed his own manhood into Willows’ arse. I was soon fully hard again.
I walked over to Jase and slid my finger into his hot, wet, loose arse. I could never have done anything like that before that day; even as I did it I was surprised at myself.
I said, “Room for another in there?”
He laughed, still fucking Willows, “Room for fuckin’ pony by the feel of it…”
I sheathed and lubed myself up and, smiling over at the guy on the balcony, penetrated Jase as he fucked Willows.
He almost shouted, “Aaah… Jesus!”
I stopped pushing and said, “Does it hurt?”
He pushed back against me, “No, no… it feels good! Keep fuckin’ goin’!”
I slid myself all the way and he gasped.
I tried to coincide my rhythm with his, pushing into him as he pulled out of Willows, but after a few unsuccessful attempts, he said, “Just stand there, Daz. Let me do the fuckin’.”
After that I held my cock steady and he worked his hips forwards and back: my cock sliding into him as he withdrew from Willows; my cock emerging from him as he pushed back in.
He looked up at the ceiling, smiling and with his eyes closed. He was groaning with the pleasure of simultaneously fucking and being fucked.
At one point he whimpered, his hips speeding up, “It feels so fuckin’ good…”
Paul laughed, “I’ve got to try that…”
Willows immediately suggested, “You get in front of Jase and then fuck me. The four of us in a chain… it’ll be so fuckin’ cool…”
But before we could do that, Jase grabbed Willows hips firmly, preventing him pulling away, and promptly orgasmed into the condom inside his friend’s arse.
It was then that Paul noticed the time and we had a mad half-hour getting everything packed before we had to be out of there. Willows and Jase, who were booked onto a later flight, realised they were getting in the way, and so showered and left us fairly promptly.
As he left with Jase, Willows grumbled, “It’s fuckin’ typical… I was the one who started it, but I was the only one who didn’t get to cum.”
“C’est la fuckin’ vie,” Paul chuckled and slammed the door.
They were handing out complimentary copies of ‘The Daily Star’ on the plane which flew us back to England. I leafed through it with irritation and handed it to Paul.
He seemed as impressed with it as I had been.
“How can being given this be called complimentary? A fuckin’ chimp would be insulted…”
But then he lingered over the centre spread.
He gestured for me to take a look at it.
“BLONDS TAKE IT ALL AT KAVOS BEACH PARTIES”
Beneath it were photos of a couple of women with ridiculously large breasts frolicking with pale-skinned scrawny lads wearing Union Jack shorts.
A smaller headline, in bold, read: “No holds barred in Kavos clubs.”
And: “Three women take on one guy on stage.”
Paul snorted with irritation. “I wonder which Kavos they’re talking about, ’cause it sure as hell wasn’t ours.”
“It says ‘Kavos, Corfu’ but there aren’t any beaches like that anywhere on Corfu, from what we saw of it,” I agreed.
Paul sneered contemptuously at the newspaper article. “It’s all a fuckin’ con by the Greek tourist board. That’s what it is. Just to keep mugs like us bookin’ our tickets to Kavos.”
A woman sitting in the seats in front of us turned to throw us a pointed look. She had a young daughter with her who she obviously didn’t want hearing the more colourful aspects of Paul’s language.
We mouthed our apologies and went quiet, as Paul read the article and I flicked through the airline magazine.
After a few minutes, I said, “Even if we were ripped off… the holiday was okay, wasn’t it?”
Paul smiled. “Yeah. There were some pretty cool bits.” I looked at him and his smile broadened. “Actually, come to think of it, there were some very cool bits.”
I smiled back. “Yeah. Some of it was… er… kind of fun.”
Then, after another short pause, I added, “I mean, I’m not saying that I’d be rushing to go back there…”
Paul looked at me and grinned again. He finished my sentence for me: “Well, at least not for another year…”
I broke into a smile of my own. “Another year? That long? Remember we get a fortnight off at Christmas…”
“Hey, we’ve a week’s lieu holiday to take before then…”
We both laughed.
And we had the tickets booked within a week of getting home.
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