Rage Against The Latrine: Chapter 27

A couple of weeks before Easter, Natasha and the band booked ten days away in Spain. They had two music videos to record for the first tracks on their new album – called Gossip and Nympho – and then planned to have a bit of time beside the Mediterranean as the weather warmed.

Joseph travelled to Essex twice a year to see his family, and I encouraged Natasha’s brother to visit London the weekend Natasha was away. The couple got cheap tickets to come down on the Friday and I met them at the mainline station, a short walk from my office.

My fiancée spoke to me before she left and texted me as I ambled down the side street to our rendezvous point. “I know you got off playing with Adam at Christmas. He’s a cheap whore, but fun. Let yourself go. For me and for you. Explore because you will enjoy yourself. I’m fine with whatever you do. The kinkier, the better. It’s hot here too. Faye has a fetish for preggo girls, which I never knew. She won’t leave me alone. Love you loads. N.”

Joseph teased us about our plans over dinner at a local pub, but he enjoyed his partner’s promiscuity. They had some filthy adventures planned for their final day in London together; the gay couple had travelled to the capital city to have a range of sordid encounters. When Adam’s partner wandered off towards an Underground station to take a connection to his parent’s home on the edge of Epping Forest, his boyfriend and I checked into a double room at a budget hotel.

The youthful receptionist lustfully smiled as we collected our keys; he eyed Adam and licked his lips as his gaze scrutinised the cheeky gay man. Natasha’s brother wanted to visit two clubs he used to frequent with Gary, and when we got to the room, we changed from our daywear.

The warm evening was humid, and Adam chose a white athletic singlet and tight black jeans. The outfit amplified his youthful appearance, and he looked sexy as he waited for me to don my dark T-shirt and trousers. We walked the short distance to the cruising bar near Warren Street. The nondescript venue was at the bottom of a thin staircase on a side road, and we paid our ten quid to gain entry to Adam’s favourite club.

They illuminated the dark space with several bright neon lights, which gave the busy, compact establishment a trendy atmosphere. A DJ played music in the room’s corner, and metal chain mail curtains added to the harsh, industrial ambience of the bar. There was a rough character to the gay nightclub.

We checked our tops and trousers into the “coat check” along with our personal possessions. I tucked my credit card into my socks, and we bought a drink from the barman. On the far side, we saw a man on his knees fellating two older daddy types. There was kissing on the sofa, and snogging against the wall. Men of all ages and all types walked around in their underwear as they surveyed the meat market.

I was in a gay paradise, and Adam squeezed my buttocks through my thin cotton briefs. So much homosexual eroticism, and I wasn’t sure if I felt overwhelmed or excited. I was mostly heterosexual. Until I agreed to Natasha’s wishes and explored, I had never thought about touching another man. My partners had always been female, but I found I enjoyed my play with Jamie and adored Adam’s visit to our rented cottage in Cumbria. I was excited about the hedonistic weekend we had planned, but this amount of sexual activity felt a little unnerving.

On every occasion where I had explored my bisexuality, Natasha, or Monika, had been present. The homosexual acts had been an extension to our female-led relationship and domination kink, but the weekend, with Adam and I, was a step further. I was flying solo, with no dominatrix on hand to “guide” or “force” me to play with other men. I was Adam’s gay, slutty friend, and I was engaging in same-sex libertine frolicking because of my wanton sexual desires.

Adam kissed me on the cheek. “Come see the playrooms,” he whispered into my ear, over the music. We walked to the private booths in the dark corridor, pushing past half-naked men. A couple groped me as we passed them.

In the playroom, there was action everywhere. I felt like I had wandered into a porn studio, as every space had a dozen guys engaged in sordid activity, or watching the orgy unfold.

In the dark room, a group of men lined up in front of a restrained twink; a bearded man pounded their hole as guttural shrieking emanated from the submissive. A small assembly of naked blokes were on their knees, sucking the pricks of the dominant tops, as they waited their turn to sodomise the young bottom. The gay bar was a free-for-all; a decadent utopia for sating male arousal.

As my eyes lurched from one act to another, and as I sipped my beer, I had a passionate stirring in my briefs. My erect dick twitched as my lust rose. I pressed Adam against the wall and wantonly kissed him, holding his hand against the cold brick as my tongue caressed him. It felt natural as I did it.

He said nothing as I tugged at his skimpy cotton briefs and pulled his prick free. I slid to my knees and glided my lips over his long, thin shaft. He tasted slightly of piss, and completely of manly ardour. I bobbed on his cock, stroking his dick as my tongue massaged his purple tip; men stepped over and around me as I blew Adam, drawing his member into its fullest erection.

Voyeurs watched me as I publicly fellated the young man. They stared as I sucked on the cock of my fiancée’s brother and they casually stroked their pricks as he caressed my dark hair. He rocked his hips slightly, smiling as I provided oral service to his slender dick.

He stopped me from finishing my blowjob. “Calm down,” he joked, tugging me away from his wonderful genitals. I looked up at him and he gestured for me to stand. His hands squeezed my buttocks as we snogged; he understood how ravenous I felt.

The atmosphere had made me hypersexual, and desperate for cock.

I wanted everyone. A kid in a sweet shop, there was a hundred delicious treats for me to experience as my eyes took in the scene once more. It was not overwhelming, but exhilarating. I finished my beer as Adam guided us towards the leather sofas at the back of the playroom. Seven men of various ages sat with their pricks in their hands, watching the action around them and stroking themselves to keep their dicks hard.

It felt like an advert; displaying their well-endowed wares to passing sluts eager to taste and experience their meat. I stared as I perused them, and my eyes met the gaze of an intimidating character.

Tall, muscle-clad skinhead with forbidding tattoos across his face, chest, arms and legs, to his chunky black boots. “Want some?” He gruffly asked, without smiling.

I did.

And he knew it.

The sizeable cock was a magnet.

Like a moth to an open flame, my lust pulled me towards the shaven-headed, forbidding guy. In the street, I would have avoided the man, with his cold and unfriendly look. In the club, my arousal attracted me to his thick, meaty prick.

An invitation I could not refuse. I tugged at Adam’s hand as I stepped in between the semi-circle of couches and knelt on the floor, positioning my mouth over his sweaty, erect cock. He never asked for my name. I knew nothing about him.

My tongue swirled around his slippery frenulum and glans. He glared at me as I suckled the tip of his dick and ran my hands over his muscular thighs. He barely acknowledged me as he idly bucked his hips, pressing his shaft deeper into me.

Thick and meaty, his substantial cock filled my mouth as I slid up and down the first few inches of his member. I could not deep-throat that monster, but I held the base with my right fist and bobbed on the top of his dick.

“He good?” A voice asked, and the skinhead snorted.

“He’s OK. Had far worse.”

“Do me, kiddo.”

“Yeah, do him.” My lust intensified as the inked man passed me to another stranger. I loved that I was a disposable piece of meat, as the nude guy to his right guided me into his erect dick.

I sucked a black cock for the first time. His body, wrapped in espresso-coloured skin, was smooth under the neon lights. Shor dark hair at the base of his thick prick and he flashed a smile as my lips closed over the mushroom head.

Musky, sweaty, masculine and addictive. I sucked on his cock, bobbing passionately on the stranger’s dick in full view of the gay bar. My hands roamed over his tree-trunk legs and washboard stomach. They flicked his nipples as my mouth worked his stiff prick.

“He’s liking that,” his friend joked. And I was.

I got given to another and another; each guy, with their well-endowed pricks, had me blow them for a couple of minutes before they passed me onto the next top and then the next. I was merely a discardable warm-up act, and when I reached the end of the line, I looked to see Adam on his knees in front of the skinhead, as the young Cumbrian brought the intimidating Londoner to orgasm.

Sweat dripped down my chest and across my forehead, and I wiped the drool from my lips with the back of my hand. We left the playroom and returned to the bar; I bought us both another drink as we sat on the stools.

“This place is crazy,” I said as the barman put two bottles on the beer mats. “It’s amazing.”

“Yeah. One of the seven wonders of the world!” Adam joked as we watched the action from our bar stools. The air was thick with sexual arousal, with grunting, groaning and squealing loudly carrying over the music in the warm, sweaty underground venue.

I saw the black man, with the firm six pack, enter the bar area, and he made eye contact with me. “Drink?” I asked, and he smiled.

“Yeah, OK,” he muttered and tapped my bottle. He took a seat next to Adam, and I flashed my card to buy three more beers from the barman. He said little; nobody did. We watched the debauchery in front of us as the well-endowed man idly stroked his prick with his left hand. When a sofa became free at the far end of the room, my companion suggested we take it.

Our guest sat in the middle of the settee, with his legs widely spread. His eyes met mine and then Adam’s as he swigged from the beer bottle. Wordlessly, he said what he wanted, and I eagerly fellated him once more.

The power and control the stranger possessed over me was intoxicating and arousing. I licked his sweaty testicles as he lifted his semi-erect prick and sucked the saltiness from his pores. My lips swirled over his glans, and my mouth slid over his shaft, growing as I suckled his manhood.

The musky smell, the firm feel of his cock, the tangy taste, the debauched sounds and the sights of his shimmering flesh and black pubic hair were a sensory overload. My body sang as I worshipped the stranger’s dark prick. His left hand rubbed the back of my head as I bobbed on his dick, taking him further and further into my mouth.

I felt powerless and submissive. As my tongue swirled over the glans of the adonis, I glanced up at him, as he looked out across the room, enjoying a pornographic show behind me as I worked his cock. I inhaled his masculine scent as pre-cum from my arousal soaked the front of my white briefs. Both hands gripped the back of my head as his hips bucked and rocked, and he held my face deep into his sweaty, virile loins.

The macho alpha grunted as my tongue tickled his frenulum and his shaft pulsed. A jet of thick, salty emission hit the back of my throat as his hips pumped his prick in and out of my mouth.

I frantically swallowed his cum, soaking my briefs as my cock strained in my underwear. His legs quivered as wave after wave of his masculinity poured into me. He glanced down at me and smiled. “Thanks,” he muttered, held up his beer and left me sat on the floor. I turned to see Adam, leant over the back of the other sofa as an older gentleman railed him. I took a seat on the leather settee, watching my friend.

“Is this free, mate?” A middle-aged bald-headed man, wearing just a red singlet that had several splashes of cum down the front had asked.

“No,” I muttered, and the cushion sank as the guy sat down next to me.

“He’s really taking a pounding,” he added as he watched Adam groan and squeal. His hands rested on my thigh as our legs touched and he looked at me, eager for action, as we enjoyed the pornographic show of my friend crying and squalling.

The thick prick pounding him unloaded into a rubber sheath and Adam stayed in his position as the dominant withdrew from his butt. Waiting for the next top, ready to plunder his open invitation. The little slut wiggled his posterior as another man readied himself; openly twerking to encourage the fat cock to accept his desperate invite.

My horniness rose. The adjacent gentleman, fondling my skin, smiled as Adam took the dominant’s dick to the hilt, and I leant over to take the veiny prick of the seated stranger in my mouth. Thick, ridged, sweaty; the weighty cock tasted of muskiness as my lips rolled his foreskin over his tip and I suckled his semi-erect member.

He stroked my back as I cricked my neck, suckling his sensitive prick in his lap. His dick stiffened as I massaged his ridged tool with my tongue and bobbed on the length of his manhood. “God, that’s good,” he muttered, parting his legs further, as my nose bumped against his shaven pubis. He held my neck as his shaft pulsed and I tasted a jet of cum hitting the top of my palate.

Then another. And another.

My sluttery peaked as the stranger’s warm juices hit the back of my throat as I frantically sucked his dick.

In two hours, I had doubled the amount of pricks that had ever been in my mouth, and I groaned as I drank the last of his salty, musky masculinity.

I glanced across to Adam, finishing up with a third man, and pulled at his wrist, nearly toppling him.

I wanted the twenty-four-year-old adonis, and I gestured for him to follow me.

Desperate, I dragged him into the playroom once more; Adam squeezed my butt as we entered a private booth from the darkened corridor. Two men were spit roasting another as I kissed my fiancée’s brother, but we ignored them. They were close to finishing their play. Adam was my focus, and our hands explored as we pawed at each other’s clothing. I wanted him as the gay man pressed me against the rough wall of the room, as our dicks touched through the cotton underwear.

I had swallowed two loads in my mouth, and I craved Adam’s touch. He held my buttocks and squeezed them, kneading my flesh as I felt a movement behind my gay lover. My eyes met those of the three men leaving the booth and I made eye contact with the submissive bottom, with splashes of cum over him.

He gasped and stepped back. “Oh My God.”

I didn’t recognise him at first in the low lighting and if he had not have reacted, I would not have remembered him. The mature gentleman clapped his hand to his cum-covered mouth as I scowled at his reaction. His face reminded me of disdain and annoyance, and I placed him as the conversation came back.

Robin Heaton. Chief Technical Officer to the large bank that had dismissed our platform so aggressively. The man with a wife of 33 years, four children and a multi-million pound mansion in South London. “Hello, once again,” I said curtly. His behaviour still rankled.

“This is a mistake. A first time. I didn’t know. Don’t tell anyone. My wife would…” He gibbered. His greying hair and distraught face had several spatters and streaks of cum. He panicked. I was not about to “out” a bisexual man to his family or his employer, and I said nothing as I studied him. To do so would be malicious and evil, and it was not in my nature. To think that I would do such a malevolent act irritated me further. “Please.”

I ignored him and returned to kissing my friend, but when he left the room, Adam sensed I was tense. “Shall we finish at the hotel?” He asked, and I nodded. We dressed and exited the venue, walking through the cool streets at midnight to our hotel.

The receptionist watched as we crossed the atrium, and Adam noticed his gaze. He stopped and walked up to the desk. “Hiya, what time’s breakfast tomorrow?”

“Six thirty to ten, sir.” My companion studied the definition of the short-haired, blue-eyed man in his white shirt, and squeezed my hand.

“Thanks. My friend and me have been to the underground club near Warren Street. We had some fun, but plan to have a little more. In our room. One-one-three, if you get lonely.”

Adam bit his lip as he stepped backwards and held the receptionist’s gaze until we rounded the corner of the corridor. “You sure he’s gay?”

“Yes,” my friend snorted. He spoke as we took the stairs two at a time. “He has a Rainbow Pride bracelet and had been ogling me all stay.” I chuckled as he opened our bedroom door. Adam’s fingers pawed at my trousers, and they fell to the floor in seconds. I stood bottomless as my clothes pooled at my feet and I unbuttoned my fuckbuddy’s belt.

His lips touched mine; his palms stroked my flanks. The underwear dropped from his waist. We had unfinished business as my hands grasped his buttocks and kneaded his muscles. He panted as I explored, caressing his bare flesh.

Adam pulled his fingers over his shaft, collecting pre-cum, and raised his hand to my face. My eyes focused on the globule of transparent liquid, and I licked the saccharine, tangy goo from his skin.

I knew what he wanted; his gaze sparkled as my tongue curled over my top lip and a cheeky grin cracked across his face, as I slid down his body, until I rested on my knees.

I took a few seconds to admire his cock; the bulbous purple uncircumcised glans atop his engorged, long, thin shaft. The smell of spicy male arousal and musty water-based lubricant was deliciously stimulating, and my mouth closed over the velvety head.

My tongue swirled around his ridge, and a few more drops of pre-cum dropped onto my tastebuds. I coated his shaft in my saliva as my lips slid further down his dick until my nose brushed his smattering of pubic hair.

He grunted, muttering words I couldn’t hear. I bobbed on his cock, unsure of whether Adam wanted to orgasm in my mouth, leaning against the wall. But I chased his cum. I quickened my pace and ran my tongue across his frenulum as my tight lips pleasured the whole of his shaft.

He groaned louder. “That’s good,” he muttered and rubbed his nipples through his cotton singlet. His hips ground his prick to my rhythm, aggressively thrusting his dick towards me as my nose nestled amongst his pubes. He panted, and I steadied myself for an influx of his cum.

And then he stopped as a gentle knock on the door brought Adam from his lustful haze. He giggled and gripped the handle, exposing us to the corridor.

The receptionist’s eyes widened. My friend, with a wet, erect prick, was leaning against the wall and I was on my knees in front of him. “I understand that you’ve had some problems with your television, sir?”

Adam took a few seconds to appreciate the reason for the cute receptionist’s words and he grinned. “Yes, if you could just look.” I scrambled to my feet as the smartly dressed man stepped into our room and caught the name off his employee’s badge as he walked into the bedroom.

Nervousness radiated from Marcus’s body language. I expected that if his employers discovered that he had sought sex from a guest during his shift, then they would take a dim view of his actions.

Adam closed the door and gestured for me to sit on the double bed. “Front or back?” He offered the receptionist. “Or do you want to be in the middle?” My companion’s hands slid over his white shirt and navy trousers, and the employee took his wallet, keys and phone from the pockets and put them on the wooden desk behind him.

Marcus gulped; he was a strapping, sculpted individual with short black hair. He could easily have been a semi-professional athlete or a military man, with his brawny frame. “You take the back,” he said in a sharp voice before his lips broke into a smile and his eyes met my gaze.

He unfastened his trousers and he unhooked them from his waist. I smiled at the sight of his potent thighs and tight blue briefs with a crammed pouch. The room teemed with tension, and my hands reached out to his shirttails. I rubbed the front of his well-stocked underwear. He grinned as my fingers slipped under the elasticated waistband and pulled the garment to his knees.

An almost hairless mons with a thick, uncut, veiny prick rising from the stubble. His semi-erect dick screamed for my attention, and Adam suggested we get onto the double bed. Marcus knelt on the duvet, as my companion arranged me on all-fours in front of our stranger’s member.

Adam’s fingers touched my hole, and I felt the cold, slippery lubricant ease him inside. I relaxed my muscular ring, enjoying the soothing anal intrusion as I took Marcus’s chunky cock in my mouth, sliding my tongue over his retreating foreskin.

As I suckled the pre-cum out of his erect prick, he mewled. He had a mighty weapon – over seven inches long, and twice as thick as Adam’s manhood. He filled my mouth, touching my gag reflex, and I was only two-thirds of the way down his shaft. Too big for an inexperienced cocksucker, like myself, to swallow completely.

I slobbered over his prick, desperately trying to concentrate on fellating Marcus’s dick as Adam lubricated my rosebud. One finger became two and then three as he prepared my backside for plundering. I felt the mattress move, and then Adam’s fingers withdrew. The tear of a condom wrapper came before the rounded head of a sheathed cock pressing against my anus.

I groaned as I relaxed the muscles once more, feeling my companion’s dick glide into my butt, and touch my prostate. My loins tingled and twinkled as my fuckbuddy ground his prick into me, slapping his thighs against me, and propelling me deeper onto Marcus’s slick member.

Adam and a stranger were spit roasting me. Engaged to be married to an award-winning rock star, and I was in a budget hotel in the early hours being slammed by two pricks. And I loved it. I adored the submission of my situation, and that I had meekly surrendered my body. I slavishly sucked Marcus’s prick and my arousal sizzled as my erect cock swung wildly with every thrust into my backside.

I wanted to taste the cum from the receptionist. My eyes focused on the stranger’s manhood. I took as much of his sizeable dick as I could as my lips stretched over his shaft. My tongue tasted and worked his ridged sensitive spot, as pre-cum oozed onto my tastebuds.

“He’s a gobbler,” Marcus muttered. His cock stiffened, and he held the back of my neck as he emitted a long, groaning sigh. My mouth felt the jerking of his dick and I tasted the first jet of cum on my tongue.

And another, and another. I swallowed as his cock pumped the musky, bitter goo into me.

Adam increased his rhythm. He pulled on my thighs, burying his prick quicker and deeper into my butt. He panted, groaning as he quickened his pace, slamming deep into me.

And then he smashed his twitching dick into my rectum as his body weight rested on my lower back. He fell against me, grunting as his prick filled the rubber condom.

I felt empty as Adam withdrew his cock from my hole, and he smiled when I looked over my shoulder at him. “Turn over,” he said, and as I moved, he spoke to Marcus. “Do you want to blow him?”

“I don’t gobble,” he replied. My companion grinned as he knelt over me, taking my stiff cock in his lips. I loved Adam’s blowjobs. The fellatio he gave me in the Lake District was incredible as his mouth swirled and twisted over my glans.

My dick sparkled. I was already on the edge from Adam sliding over my prostate and the wonderful sensations of sucking Marcus’s cock. I barely lasted thirty seconds before I smashed past my point of no return and flooded Adam’s mouth with my cum.

I panted on the bed, seeing Marcus pull his tight blue briefs to his waist. “Thanks,” I said to him. He smiled as his thighs became reacquainted with his trousers. Adam pulled the filled condom from his prick and looked directly at me as he held the latex cum bag in his hand.

He dripped his semen from the sheath onto my black T-shirt. “You look like the slut you are now,” he chuckled as the viscous liquid splattered across my chest.

Marcus snickered at my expression. “You bastard!” I cried as the white drops soaked into the dark cotton. Our guest left our room, and Adam and I cleaned up. We stripped and fondled each other in the bathroom before we climbed into bed.

I noticed Marcus’s phone, wallet and keys on the desk, and when I mentioned this to my companion, the playful exhibitionist leapt from under the duvet, grabbed the valuables and sauntered out of the door, completely naked.

He returned twenty minutes later with a smile on his face, and I didn’t ask what he had done. I sort of knew, and his hand caressed my thigh as we drifted to sleep.

* * * * *

We woke when Adam’s phone loudly vibrated. “Hello?” He sleepily muttered. “It’s eight thirty.”

“Hiya, bro!” Natasha’s voice woke me from my slumber.

“What is it? You OK?” I asked, panicking that my pregnant fiancée had called.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Fucking awesome. Faye got up, so I wanted to check in with my favourite brother and his weekend bitch.” I blushed as she spoke, and Adam switched the messaging call to video chat. He balanced his phone on the duvet as I sat up in bed and he waved at his punk rock sister.

“We’re good. Aren’t we?” He put his arm around me, squeezing me into him. “That cruising bar on Warren Street is just amazing. It’s the best place in the world, isn’t it?”

I blushed and nodded. “Did you have fun? Cut loose?” she asked.

Adam answered for me. “Of course. How many guys did you suck off? It was a few, wasn’t it? That black guy, and the skinhead and…”

“A few,” I interrupted as my fiancée smirked at us.

“Fucking nice one. Good to be free. But Bro, don’t you go turning another of my boys? Gary only started dreaming of a gay master after you kept coming down and taking him to all those male sex clubs!”

Adam chuckled. “I can’t help it if your boyfriends think I’m fabulous. Although, he is pretty tidy himself. If I didn’t have Joseph, I’d wrestle you in a pit of crocodiles for him! He’s too innocent for you, anyway. I need a few weekends to corrupt him.”

Natasha scoffed, and I saw the naked body of Faye enter the room behind my partner. “You better go,” I said. Faye grabbed my fiancée’s legs, roughly parting them, and the call abruptly ended.

“My sister is such a nympho,” he added with a chuckle. “Always has been.”

“She says that about you.”

He smiled. I made us both a drink from the kettle, and we talked. I didn’t realise how homophobic his dad was, and the religious aggression he faced as he discovered his sexuality. He recounted a handful of tales from his youth.

“He reckoned that if I rejoined this outdoor adventure group run by the church, I wouldn’t have time for boyfriends, so I was eighteen and we went camping in Coniston. In my tent, there were five other guys. I had blown them all by the end of the first night. Male hormones in overdrive meant they just wanted to empty their balls. They all called me a ‘fag’ until they needed to bust a nut, and then I was their best friend. That was a long weekend, and I’d never had so much sex.” He chuckled as he remembered the trip. “I came home, and Dad was all smug and said that good wholesome pursuits take my mind off lust and sin. He had no idea how busy I’d been!”

“Bloody hell!”

He recited many similar stories, and there was a nasty undercurrent to his accounts. I knew my parents would not have cared if I had come out as bisexual or gay to them, but Adam’s father objected and censured his youngest son. “It’s why I had to go to Uni, although Dad wouldn’t help me out financially unless I went on a Christian Conversion Therapy course first and I wasn’t doing that. Mum helped me, but Dad didn’t. In the summer, I got a job for this holiday company and I was in Crete one year, and Cyprus the next. Just to avoid going back to Windermere. And when I had to, I rowed so much with him. I could never have a boyfriend without him losing it, so I ended up in Joseph’s flat before too long!” He grinned.

It felt cathartic to talk to him. His only girlfriend in his life was the daughter of a family friend at the church, who horrified her parents when she declared her lesbianism. “So, they thought we would turn each other straight, and we went along with it for a while. She’s a teacher now in Manchester at some high school. Married too. And like me, still as bent as a duck’s dick.” He chuckled. “But for three months, it was the only time he laid off the bullying.”

He recalled plenty of childhood tales about my fiancée, and he asked about my background, too. I explained about Samantha and my job, and I freely told him everything. We had spent two hours talking, and Adam and I were the last of the guests to arrive for the hotel breakfast, eating just before the end of their sitting. After food, we wandered into the city. My weekend fuckbuddy wanted to go to a specific market, and as we perused the stalls, he selected a pair of lightweight camouflage shorts and T-shirt from the vendor.

“You need something too.”

“Like what?” I asked. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he replied, not answering the query. “Somewhere magical.” He explained nothing and selected an old England football kit – white shirts, shorts and socks. He also bought us both a pair of cheap beach shoes.

We had lunch in a greasy spoon and travelled back to the hotel; I had a little backpack, and he put our purchases in that. The venue near the mainline station was at the bottom of a set of steep stairs. It smelt damp and musty, with slate grey walls. Adam walked in front of me, pushing the stout swing door open.

The small room was a quarter of the size of the club the night before, and the unforgiving aroma smashed into my nostrils as we stepped into the space.

Adam had brought me to a very busy piss party. A makeshift bar on the left served a variety of drinks, as 1980s disco classics played through the tinny speakers. The room was full of all ages and sizes of men; many were naked, but others wore sportswear, military dress, construction clothing or kinky outfits.

I felt overwhelmed as I digested the scene; over eighty guys crowded into the intimate space. At the back, a large inflatable bath, where three men were kneeling in the tub, and I saw another couple emerge from a private room.

We changed into the outfits and beach shoes Adam selected from the market, and put our day clothes into the backpack, which we stashed into the coat check. Two pints of beer from the bar were quickly drunk as I watched the debauched scene unfold.

A thin man in his mid-thirties, wearing just tight white underwear, approached us. His warm, apprehensive smile and youthful hair made him look like he was uncertain of what he was about to ask us. The nervous guy gripped his drink as he introduced himself. “Hi,” he muttered, leaning against the wall and staring at Adam with his deep brown eyes. “Charlie. You dom, sub, or versatile?”

“Sub,” my companion replied. “A bit vers, but normally sub.” His smile flickered, and he gulped his drink. “I remember this place from a couple of years ago. Hardly changed!”

Charlie and Adam chatted; I listened to it as I surveyed the scenes in front of us. Charlie’s perversion was that he loved wetting his clothes, and he outraged his last girlfriend, who was not aware of his kink or bisexuality, when he revealed his fetish. I felt blessed that my partner was so open-minded as we conversed.

“I need to go,” he muttered.

“Me too,” Adam replied, and I followed them as they walked through the orgy. He stopped in the corner, groaned, and with both of us watching him, the white cotton material grew darker.

Liquid tumbled down his legs as he urinated in his tight briefs, publicly wetting his clothes. I felt my dick harden as I watched him humiliate himself. Adam pulled the waistband of his underwear and viewed the flow of pale yellow piss arch from his small, erect nub and against the sodden fabric.

With his left hand holding the elasticated strip, my weekend companion fished his prick from his pants and gestured me to do likewise. Charlie sighed as we pointed our cocks into his underwear and unloaded our bladders, splashing his cock with our piss, and saturating his tight briefs, so it tumbled down his thighs.

“Do you want a blowjob?” Adam asked, and the guy nodded. My fiancée’s brother grinned at me, pulling Charlie’s soaked underwear to his mid-thigh. “Go on then, piss slut! Suck ‘im off!”

I knelt in the puddle. His prick reeked of urine and the slippery dick tasted of harsh urea. His small thicket of pubic thatch smelt musty and dirty, and my lips sucked his sodden cock.

He groaned as I fellated him, giving him oral as Adam played with his nipples. My tongue flicked his sensitive spot as I easily took the length of his shaft into my mouth.

He squirmed as I gave him head. He had engaged in his fetish, publicly wetting and humiliating himself, before two more guys had debased him by filling his pants with pee. His overactive lust could not resist the stimulation and he grunted as cum rose from his balls and he fired it onto my tongue.

I washed his musky, bitter seed down with another pint of beer; the bar did a good trade, given that most people aimed for hyperhydration to replenish their bladders and after we had sunk a further drink and spoken to some more patrons, Adam and I wandered over to the large paddling pool.

Puddles of cloying piss covered the navy floor of the tub, with four men kneeling or lying in the inflatable. I looked at my fiancée’s brother, who grinned as he grabbed me by the waist and threw me against the low sides. “In we fucking go!” He cried.

We tumbled over the side, landing on the inflated pouch and in the disgusting patches of pee that sprayed as my body bounced on the cushion. Adam landed on top of me, scattering the pools of urine and covering us both in splashes of piss.

He wrestled me. His hands pinned me onto the floor as we grappled and scuffled, knocking into the other occupants of the inflatable. The attendees stopped to watch us as we played in the wastewater, and as I held Adam to the ground, two men urinated over our bodies.

Harsh, acerbic, nasty liquid flowed from the surrounding cocks, covering the six people in the pool. We only ever got a minute’s break as several of the attendees liberally splashed their piss over the pigs in the bath.

The pee was a harsher, more intense flow than what I received from my fiancée and the band. The bitter, acidic liquid made my eyes water as it splashed through my hair and face. But I felt horny. Natasha had wired my dick to respond to the smell and taste of urine and Adam’s constant touching, as well as the piss-soaked environment, left me aroused.

I saw a man take a cock up his arse, and receive a pee enema, and several guys drank straight from the spigot. It was a raunchy, depraved, Sybaritic event that I would never have attended if my weekend fuckbuddy had not brought me. Adam and I swallowed mouthfuls of bitter pee, and I kissed and stroked Adam as we wallowed in filth.

I enjoyed exploring my bisexuality, but when it came to watersports, I massively preferred my female domination piss play. Adam might have detected a slight reticence in my body language, but I didn’t object to any of the golden showers or depraved humiliation. I did not have the same overenthusiastic verve I had at the cruising bar on Warren Street.

We left the pool and dried in the warm room. When our clothes were no longer sodden, we collected our belongings and wandered through the city hand-in-hand, still wearing the garments we had soaked with piss. I knew we smelt revolting in the warm sunshine and Adam deliberately wet himself as we ambled through a park as we returned to our hotel to shower.

For dinner, I took Adam to a smart restaurant I knew. It didn’t have the fabled Michelin star, but the food was incredible, and I happily paid the bill. I’d enjoyed my weekend with my fiancée’s brother and, after eating our meal, we walked along the Thames, before stopping for a drink in a trendy wine bar in Covent Garden. When we returned to the hotel, he fucked me.

It felt natural to be buggered by Adam, and our slow, sensual fuck was delicious. He stroked my prostate as we kissed and our chests rubbed, before we both unloaded.

I woke at 8am and we wandered down to the food hall in our underwear and dressing gowns, getting looks as we visited the buffet that catered for breakfast. I felt a little guilty about the last twenty-four hours, and so I messaged Monika to see if she was free. I needed to reinforce the heterosexual side of my bisexual sexuality, and I sought some dominant female company.

Joseph and Adam were staying in our hotel bedroom from Sunday for two days until they returned to Cumbria, and so I left my suitcase in the room and met the teenage dominatrix at a central London cafe. She grinned when I told her about my adventures, but I could tell there was something on her mind. She was troubled, and when she didn’t want to talk about it, I took her to her favourite store to look at more underwear, promising to buy her an outfit.

The insatiable minx had me around her little finger, and I adored the control the women in my life had with me. She couldn’t decide between a gossamer pale pink lingerie set, or a sheer lacy black babydoll and G-String. The young woman stood outside the changing rooms, looking in the mirror in the classy underwear, and she asked me to photograph her in the dazzling brassiere, briefs and suspender belt. The bra held and exhibited her bosom perfectly, giving her a deep, enticing cleavage, while the diaphanous bottoms were revealing, seductive and utterly beguiling.

There was a near-pornographic quality to her black, see-through negligee, and I ogled her lustfully, photographing her as the nightwear left little to the imagination. “I like you in both,” I told her, holding my credit card aloft. My stiff cock demanded it.

“You can’t,” Monika sighed, and checked the price tag on both garments. “I have to choose. You will not buy both of them for me. They are both too expensive and you are too generous. Especially when you get horny.” I didn’t care, and while she dressed, I paid for the pair. She glowered when the sales assistant took the clothing and wrapped them up. “I said you weren’t to spend that on me.”

“You can punish me at a later date,” I teased and the young salesgirl glanced at my friend with a grin.

“I will!” Monika replied. She sent the photos of herself in the store to Natasha and her sister. I had no secrets with my fiancée and the teenager excitedly flaunted her new underwear to her family.

We walked back to the Underground station and travelled across the city to Monika’s residence. She kissed me on the lips when we arrived at her housing block. “Come in,” she offered with a wicked smile. “I have some spanking to do.”

We had a cup of tea in the shared student kitchen, and she spoke to some of her friends. The Agent Provocateur lingerie came out of the bag, and the two women cooed over my gift to my favourite teenage dominatrix. They teased me, and once we had finished our drink, Monika led me into her single bedroom.

“Get undressed,” she demanded and pointed to the en-suite. When I reentered her room, she had sat on the bed, in just the negligee.

The hem of the nightwear rested on the tops of her thighs as she gestured for me to kneel in front of her. “How much have you spent?” She spat; her voice felt harsh and angry.

“Four hundred and ninety pounds,” I muttered, and her left hand grabbed my nipple and twisted it painfully. I yelped as her right palm slapped me across my cheek.

Stunned. Shocked. Monika’s display of violence was not in her character and was unexpected. I fell to my side as her fingers aggressively tugged and tweaked my sensitive points. “That hurts,” I moaned.

“It’s fucking supposed to,” she snapped, and Monika sounded like Natasha. “You’ve got a lot of punishment to take for five hundred quid!” Her bare toes touched my exposed prick, and she slowly pressed down on my cock. I squealed as her foot pinned my shaft to the carpet and she slapped me across the face once more.

She wanted to hurt me. Monika smacked me on the cheek a dozen times, spanked my bare buttocks, kicked me lightly in the balls and twisted my nipples as she exerted a physical domination over me. It was the shock and lack of warning of her acts of brutality that hurt more than the savagery.

My body winced as she sat on the bed and gripped my hand, forcing my face between her musky thighs. I adored the taste and smell of the teenage dominatrix and enjoyed it more if she was a little ripe. The merciless assault on me had aroused the delicious woman, and my tongue swept over her slippery cunt as I devoured her femininity.

Her hands held my head against her slit as I probed her clit and lapped at her teenage pussy. She groaned as my finger penetrated her and mewled as I flicked her button. Sharp vocal exhalations as I went down on the sadist.

That I worshipped.

My tongue and hands massaged her sensitive, musky, slick loins as I brought her closer and closer to orgasm. I adored the piquant beauty of the writhing woman. A sweet, racy, delectable scent that lingered on the nose, with an invigorating, engrossing taste; my erect cock bobbed as it responded to my excited senses, savouring the arousing flavours from the hairless snatch.

Her pussy throbbed with her first climax, and they kept coming. I never stopped as I lavished oral love on her slippery cunt and her voice became louder with every shuddering peak. Her body thrashed and pulsed with her fifth orgasm, causing her muscles to convulse and her screams to echo in the spartan room.

She lay exhausted for a moment, as my fingers traced her slit, but she stopped me. She donned a strapon harness with a lubricated-smothered dildo and held the back of my neck as she positioned her cock at my inviting hole.

I sighed as she filled me and panted as she rogered me with deep, firm strokes. Her domination was usually sensual, but she pressed me against her mattress as her prick jackhammered into my backside. I squealed. Natasha often roughly penetrated me, but Monika was always more gentle. I whimpered as she pounded me. She aggressively sodomised me as she pummelled the thick dildo into my butt.

I mewed with every breath and squealed with every punch from her cock. My dick dripped and leaked, savouring the harsh intrusion against my prostate.

I felt myself nearing a climax when she withdrew from my butt. I looked behind my shoulder, silently begging for her to bugger me once more, but she cackled, and dragged me by the ear to her en-suite.

Her golden rain fell over me in her shower; a bladder of pee flowed over my face and down my kneeling body. Bitter nastiness; the butterscotch-coloured liquid smelt and tasted vile. Slightly dehydrated, Monika covered me in her disgusting acerbic waste, forcing me to drink a mouthful of her sharp, foul piss.

My cock screamed at me. My horniness itched for release as my body desperately twitched. The degradation of me by the intoxicating woman brought me to the very edge of my orgasm once more.

She cackled as she shook her cunt lips free of waste and I suckled them deferentially until she slapped me once more. “Wash yourself,” she barked, and I quickly showered after she left the room.

She had taken my clothes and dumped them on my bed, and when I went to pick my boxer shorts, she snarled at me holding my cotton garment that she had shredded with scissors. “You replaced my underwear so you can have one of my old pairs.” The sultry woman strode across her room, holding a pair of backless white lacy briefs. “And I want you to read three of my stories on the train, and then when you get back home, you’ll get Natasha’s dildo and call us on video chat. You are going to ride it until you cum in those knickers.” She kissed me gently on the cheek and whispered in my ear. “Understand, slut?”

I nodded, taking the underwear from her. “You OK?” I asked as I put the tight-fitting garment to my waist. “You seem a little aggressive today. And a bit distant at the cafe. Has someone upset you? Have I done something?”

“You? Never!” Monika gulped. “Sorry. Some slimy runts nicked my work. I upload them to this site, which is full of erotic stories, but this utter douche-bag has scraped them all and hosted them on his own site. And he wants donations. It’s not fair for him to profit from my work but I have no way to get even on those bastards. What right do storyva have to steal something of mine?”

“If they’ve committed an infringement,” I muttered, but she waved my words away. It wasn’t worth it to her time to fight it, but the situation irritated the dominatrix. So she had taken it out on me. “Anyway, you said at the cafe you wanted to feel more straight. So you tasted my stinking cunt, I fucked you in the butt, forced you to swallow my piss and made you wear my lingerie. Do you feel heterosexual once more?”

“Very,” I said with a smile and gestured at the student in her nightwear. “And do you feel sexy?”

“Of course I do,” she replied, and I kissed her on the lips. “We have a pyjama party tonight so I might wear this!” She waited for my horrified expression and giggled. “It’s only in the flat below. But I have a bet with Simone and Estelle that I can get the most attention. There’s no way they’ll compete with this!” I left her accommodation and went via the hotel bedroom to retrieve my overnight bag.

Adam was on his knees as three naked men stood around him, and two more were spit roasting him. Joseph grinned as I entered the room. “Fancy a go?” He asked, casually pimping out his boyfriend, but I had Monika’s task to complete.

“Not now,” I muttered as I collected my suitcase. By the time I got home, Monika’s skilled story-writing ensured that I had soaked the briefs with my pre-cum and my favourite two ladies watched as I debased myself with an eight-inch dildo. Natasha smiled as she peered into her phone, and Monika ogled from her bedroom, circling her clit with her finger.

I could not get any luckier.