Man trouble (m/m)

[rugbycockfan]

What follows is my attempt to write a story that's basically about good hard man sex, but with some semblance of a plot weaved into it. I'll do my best to get the sex-to-plot ratio right, but please bear with me if the plot takes over occasionally...

MAN TROUBLE

1.

Scott walked into the locker room of the hotel gym, pushing the door so hard that it flew with a crash into the stop and swung back, catching his shoulder as he passed by. It had been a hard workout, and that usually made him feel good, but tonight he was properly pissed off and the adrenaline rush merely fuelled his anger. Fact was, he was still thinking about what had happened the night before.

Despite his best efforts, Scott was stubbornly, persistently single - and he knew exactly what the problem was. It wasn't like he was physically unattractive to other guys or, insofar as he knew, was doing anything to put them off in the way that he behaved. He'd dated plenty of men, and more often than not - whether on the first date, the third or the fifth - they would end up getting naked with him. And that's where the problems always started.

The reactions he got when a new lover first saw his huge dick varied widely. A few simply stood open-mouthed for a few moments, before saying "No way am I taking that fucking thing!" Or words very like that, anyway. Others weren't quite sure where to look or what to do with it. Some men got really horny at the sight of it, but then chickened out when it came to actually getting fucked - or whined that it was too big when he tried, and told him to stop. In a couple of cases where Scott had really fancied a guy he'd gone so far as to bottom the first few times, but his usual preference was to top and the relationship invariably ended up foundering if the boyfriend would only ever make love on his terms.

A few men had proven more than willing to bottom for Scott, but they turned out to be size queens who fixated on his cock, and seemed to treat the man attached to it as an afterthought. The sex was great, but it was empty. As for Scott's last real, actual partner - a man who appeared ready for a settled relationship, seemed to show a real interest in what was going on outside of Scott's underwear, and was prepared to give him the sex that he wanted to boot - he'd been thrown out four years ago, after Scott had caught him organising casual online hookups with a long list of hung men within a twenty mile radius. Randy Andy: now usually referred to by Scott, if no-one else, as the Whore.

And so, as the years dragged on and Scott passed the Big Three-O with no sign of domestic bliss in sight, he grew jaded and increasingly turned to hookup sites and apps himself. If all guys really cared about was his snake then he might as well get the dick pics on the table at the outset, and tell anyone not ready and willing to take it up the arse to fuck right off.

And even that didn't always work, Scott thought to himself as he angrily fought to peel the sweat-soaked, sleeveless workout tank from his torso. As much strength as he had in those thick, muscled arms, the fucking rag stuck to his back like glue - but it finally gave way, with some measure of effort. Away on business up North, with nothing much to do at the hotel save for eat dinner and work out, he'd got his phone out yesterday evening and started swiping his way through the local talent until he found this fit young lad. 24, 5'10", athletic build, black hair, green eyes. Looking to meet up with a well hung bloke. Pictures were exchanged, Scott's cock obviously measured up to requirements, and drinks in a local bar were hastily arranged.

It went really well. The lad had a firm arse, and quickly made it plain that he was eager to have it fucked. About 45 minutes after meeting, Scott had him through the door of his hotel room and, after a further ten seconds, down on his knees and undoing Scott's belt and trousers to get at the prize.

Pulling off his trainers and socks, Scott remembered all too bitterly his familiar sinking feeling last night, as the lad had released his hardon from the prison of its boxer briefs. The change of expression, the frozen moment of hesitation, said everything. The young man eventually gave (after he'd snapped out of it) a pretty good blow job, but when Scott tried to lead him to bed for the main event he bottled it. A typical exchange followed.

"No! I'm sorry, erm, I can't. It's... It looks even..."

"...bigger in the flesh? Oh, whatever. Just go home. You know the way out."

The young man practically flew out of the door, leaving Scott sat on the corner of the bed with a throbbing, expectant steel bar of an erection left wet and lacking the intended outlet. He stripped and got in the shower, cracked one off the wrist to relieve the tension, and then went to bed to watch crap TV until he fell into a troubled sleep.

'Typical. Just bloody typical,' Scott thought as he remembered the latest of his numerous encounters with sexual frustration. Thumbs were hooked into waistband, gym shorts dropped and kicked into the untidy pile on the floor made by the rest of his gear. 32 years old, certainly very fit, decent looking (even if he did say so himself.) In the prime of life. But never mind a good boyfriend, he sometimes struggled even to get laid. The anger left him, and drained through the floor along with his energy, as his mind was cloaked by a dark fog of despair.

By now oblivious to the door opening at the other end of the room, and the sound of footsteps upon the tiled floor, Scott slipped off his jockstrap, before catching sight of his naked form in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. He liked nearly everything about how he looked. He was 6'2" - tall without being a giant, with short, freshly-cut black hair and dark brown eyes. A strong jawline, a face in need of a shave after a long day. His build, quite well-muscled and somewhere on the borderline between athletic and stocky. The scruffy dark hair that generously covered his chest, midriff, legs and forearms, whilst sparing his back and shoulders. Big feet, big hands - and, in the way the old wives' tales would therefore suggest - a big penis.

Very big.

Girthy even in its unaroused state, it was no wonder that Scott's circumcised cock - seven inches long, no less, when limp - attracted so much attention. He'd only once seen bigger in the flesh, i.e. outside of the weird and wonderful world of porn. It was why he'd taken increasingly to working out late in the evenings, when there weren't so many guys around who might be tempted to perv at him taking his kit off or in the shower. Frankly, when staying at a hotel like he was tonight, he might even prefer to go up to his room after a workout to freshen up, were it not for the fact that it felt weird (and somewhat antisocial) walking through the corridors and going up and down in lifts when he was all sweaty.

In truth, his attitude to all the curiosity and the admiration had become ambivalent; he still kind of enjoyed it as he had done when he was younger, but nowadays it felt more and more as if guys focussed so much on the cock that they failed, properly, to see the man. Every time he tried to get close to another man, he either became fixated upon the cock, feared sex because of the cock, or ran away screaming from the cock. Sometimes the cock felt like a curse.

'Just too big,' Scott thought to himself, his shoulders sagging just slightly. He got his flip-flops out of his locker and trudged off to the showers.

 

[rugbycockfan]

2.

The wet area was just around the corner from the changing room, on the other side of a full-height wall. There was a large shower room, with heads running down either side of a central aisle, each separated from its neighbour by partitions, but without doors. This was the same set-up as the gym Scott normally went to back home - rumour was the women's showers had doors but the blokes didn't, since otherwise they couldn't be trusted not to piss in them or have a crafty wank. Probably fair - men could be right dirty fuckers. There was nobody at home - it was a little after 10pm, maybe 10:15, by this point, and the place shut for the night at eleven so this was hardly a surprise - and he got in the first stall on the right and started lathering up.

The steaming hot water and the fresh scent of the shower gel felt especially good right then, washing away the sweat and soothing aching shoulders and tired legs. It was also as if, as the physical tiredness and pain ebbed away and his body began to feel clean again, Scott's emotional turmoil also began to calm down, to quieten. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the feeling of the water coursing down through his chest hair and over his stomach, his manhood and down his legs, before turning around to let the jets get to work on his back. There was a sense of time slowing down, of being in the moment, of anxieties and loneliness and the uselessness of men being problems for the future, not a part of now. Scott began to smile.

After what was probably only two minutes, but felt like it could just as easily have been twenty, Scott opened his eyes again to find that he was no longer alone. A man was showering opposite him. They were facing each other, but didn't make eye contact straight away - the man was busy soaping up his bollocks and was looking down at what he was doing - but that just gave Scott the opportunity to have a sneaky look. I mean, he knew other men ogled him all the time in situations like this, and where was the harm?

The guy was a redhead, which immediately attracted more interest from Scott as it was something he found very sexy. Short hair very much like Scott's. Very fair, milky white skin. Broad across the shoulders. Not as heavily built as Scott was - more a football rather than a rugby physique - but athletic nonetheless.

The guy took his time washing his legs, working down the thighs, as Scott checked out the fucking gorgeous spread of red-golden hair across his well-defined chest, narrowing to a treasure trail that led the way down his washboard towards his dick. Scott couldn't quite see what the guy was packing, obscured as it was by lather, but he certainly felt his own cock begin to twitch. He looked down and could see his bell-end was starting to swell up and he'd visibly lengthened, the cock now brushing gently against the hairs of his left thigh as it just began to ease its way upwards...

'Fuck! I've never met this guy before. He'll think I'm some sort of pervert. Probably straight anyway. Shit, shit, shit...' Scott hastily turned back round to face the wall, and tried not to think indecent thoughts about muscular, furry ginger guys. He pretended to wash his hair again, whilst attempting to concentrate on all the shit from his meetings earlier in the day. Business plans, costings, organisational flow charts... The conscious mind tried admirably, but his body wanted to fuck. He looked down again. His cock was jutting out almost horizontally, and getting ever-longer with it.

There was no escape. He'd finished showering by now, there was no real excuse to linger, and his cock wasn't about to go down whilst he was stood here naked with a very fit, athletic redhead stood naked about five metres behind him. And it wouldn't be the first time a man every had a hardon in the shower after a workout. It had happened to him before. He'd seen it happen to others. Not a big deal.

Except, when it came to Scott, the cock was always a big deal. Eleven granite-hard inches of a big deal, thick and veined, with just a slight upward curve that had the swollen, pinkish-purple bell-end not that far from pointing straight up at the ceiling. Even if he had a towel to hand - which he didn't - this would be difficult to conceal. As it was - well, he'd just have to man up and brazen it out.

Scott turned off the water, and resolved to get out of that shower without looking at the guy - and hopefully he'd be facing the wall and he'd get away with it regardless - get dried off double quick, do his best to stuff that boner away in his clothing, and scurry up to his room as fast as possible. Deep breath. Turn around.

Ginger looked him straight in the face, then looked down at the monster, then back up, and laughed. "Looks like somebody's happy."

"Look, I'm sorry..." Mortifying embarrassment only made Scott's cheeks start to flush. His cock, on the other hand, was unfazed by the experience.

"No sweat. We're men, and we're gay men at that. It happens."

Ginger seemed to have Scott pretty well figured out already. And he was cool with the situation. And he was gay. Scott felt that the need to run away wasn't quite so acute as before...

"Erm, you seem pretty sure of yourself mate. How did you figure out I was gay?"

"It didn't exactly take the mind of an Einstein to figure that out. I could almost feel those dirty eyes drilling into my flesh a couple of minutes ago. And, I mean, I know straights sometimes pop boners in the showers as well, but that's something else!"

More embarrassment. "Shit mate, I'm sorry. I just, well..."

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" Ginger cut in, having already heard enough of Scott's mumbling. He had a deep, bass-baritone voice, with a southern English accent laced with just a hint of Estuary roughness. Not originally from about these parts; closer to Scott's neck of the woods, he reckoned. Very, very sexy. "You liked the view, I take it? I'm flattered. Anyway, I can hardly have a go at you for checking me out. I've had my eyes on you when you were in here tonight, and the night before last. Big, hairy, masculine - very, very nice! I'm just pleased to have broken the ice with you - I was worried you'd be off out of here again before we had the chance to become acquainted."

Well, the guy certainly wasn't backward about coming forward! He looked very interested in a bit of rough and tumble, clearly wasn't put off by Scott's cock, and - especially after last night's let-down - an honest-to-goodness, deep, hard fuck was desperately needed. There was no point in anything other than directness. He looked Ginger squarely in the face - almost smooth, with just the barest hint of red stubble. Piercing sapphire eyes. Devastatingly fucking handsome.

"Yeah, I certainly did enjoy the view. I don't get this hard for just any man."

"Neither do I."

Scott looked down Ginger's chiselled, v-shaped torso to his crotch. Jutting straight towards him, a pale, thin piece, perhaps about four inches long. The balls hanging beneath it were ample, yet the cock, though clearly well-aroused, was short and a little bit skinny.

"I saw what happened last night," Ginger continued, "when I was on the treadmill and looking out over the front entrance. You coming back with that bloke, hurrying towards your bed. His running off alone a few minutes later. I guessed what it was about. It was already obvious, from when you came up here two nights ago and I could see that big bulge of yours pulling the front of your shorts all out of shape, what had most likely happened."

"Some men can't cope with a man who's different. In a way, we actually share the same problem. People judge me because my dick's too small, and I'm guessing they do the same to you because it's too big. It comes to define us."

It was true. The direction of much of Scott's adult life had been determined by being hung. If the cock were only in proportion to his physique, rather than being more like a baseball bat, he might well have found a husband by now. "Damned right it does. That's how I nearly ended up in the sack with that bloke last night. All down to cock. I can't find and keep a decent man because of it, so I end up using it to pull randoms. And it's all so shitty and sordid and fucked up."

"Then choose not to let it define you. Looks like we press each other's buttons, so let's get to know one another better. Choose a man who wants a man, not just a penis. Now, you'll catch your death of cold, stood there like that. Come on under my shower, the water's lovely."

A wink, a filthy laugh, and then he turned right around. A drop of pre-cum oozed from Scott's cock and began its slow, sticky journey down the shaft. Ginger had the most magnificent, firm, lean arse. What it would be to plough that furrow!

Scott went to the end of the room and stuck his head round the corner. No other blokes. The coast was clear.

"If you're looking out for company then there's no need to worry. On the record the gym closes at eleven. Off the record, there's nobody left working out, and the instructor on duty is a friend - I've called in a favour and got him to close early for the night. He'll come and knock on the door and tell us to sling our hooks if we're still here at five-to, but other than that we've the place to ourselves. Now, get in here and let's have us a bit of fun!"

 

[rugbycockfan]

3.

Scott got in the stall behind Ginger and walked up to him. He was still stood there, facing the wall, entirely naked - as was Scott - save for the flip-flops on his feet, which were planted securely, and just a little apart, on the floor. Ginger had his hands behind his head, the fingers interlocked, showing off the musculature of his arms. He wasn't even pretending to be doing anything other than waiting for Scott to make the first move. Scott was breathing just slightly heavier than before, and he felt that Ginger might, perhaps, be doing likewise - but the sound was lost amidst the steady hiss and splatter of the shower.

Scott took a step forward, and pressed his manhood firmly against Ginger's body. The two men were about the same height, so that Scott's weighty prick rubbed up against Ginger's lower back, and his hairy bollocks came to rest on Ginger's backside. Scott heard his lover - for now, it seemed, the men were certain to become lovers, if only for tonight - give out a low but audible groan at being caressed with such a cock. Those gorgeous arms flexed slightly, but remained locked in place: Ginger seemed to be inviting Scott to explore further. Scott's right hand grasped around the deltoids and started working, gripping, exploring Ginger's strong shoulder; his left hand reached around and went in for the kill.

Scott's fingers worked their way over Ginger's hip, found the edge of his pubes, and then zoned in, creeping through the wiry hair, towards the package. Scott found his lover's bollocks first, ran his hand down over the sac, and then cupped them. For Scott, this was always a special moment with a new man. Holding his balls. Exploring the source of his masculinity. When he surrenders, placing his manhood into your hands, for you to do with as you will. They felt, somehow, big, and full. In need of draining. Scott would surely see to that. After a careful minute of weighing them up, Scott proceeded upwards and got a grip of Ginger's cock. The small organ fitted easily into the palm of Scott's hand, and he closed his fingers around it. Ginger now began to moan, flexing that lovely firm arse to pump his cock in and out of Scott's fist. Scott bought into the vibe, easing the grip of his other hand on Ginger's shoulder and moving it round, first to run his fingers through the fur in his lover's armpit, and then down over his chest. When he reached the right nipple he stopped to give it a little bit of a tweak, then the wandering hand resumed its journey downwards.

Scott now leant in to kiss Ginger on the neck, closing his eyes as he did so to keep the stream of water out of them. Scott now drank his lover in with his remaining senses - one hand getting fucked by his cock, the other luxuriating in the feeling of his firm muscles and his body hair. His own chest pressed closer to Ginger's back, as his dick and balls began to grind away lower down. Rubbing against that pale, smooth, perfect skin. Hungry to make the move from outside to inside his lover's body. Scott's lips worked their way back and forth, along Ginger's shoulders and up the side of his neck. Scott felt the heat of his own breath radiating back at him as he kissed Ginger; his lover's own gasps grew more urgent, more thready...

Ginger unlocked his fingers, and brought his hands down to take hold of Scott's, firmly but gently prizing them away. It didn't feel like Ginger was trying to escape; rather, he was asserting control. He turned his head, and looked over his shoulder at Scott. "My turn."

The meaning was obvious enough. Without saying anything else, Scott turned around, planted his own feet securely on the floor, and locked his hands behind his head. Straight away, he felt Ginger's hardon pressed against the small of his back, and that sexy as fuck body leaning right into him. Ginger dispensed with taking it easy, and bit Scott's neck - not really hard, but enough to give him a little pain, as both hands made a grab for that eleven inch fuckpole. Scott was distracted momentarily by those naughty teeth, but when he looked down he saw his dick had been taken well in hand - or, more accurately, in both hands.

Just the sight of his cock being gripped and controlled that way was enough to maintain Scott at iron hardness; the firmness of his lover's hands now had him throbbing, and it was his turn to moan from the ferocious sexuality of the moment. Feeling it pulse, and watching it too. The head so fucking full and angry, and super-sensitive to every stray splash of water. His scrotum contracting, pulling his bollocks up close to the root of his cock, preparing for release.

Ginger eased his grip slightly, and then released the left hand, sending it straight down to hold Scott's aching balls, accentuating their exquisite discomfort. He eased his right hand up and down the full length of Scott's cock, the hot shower water lubricating each and every stroke, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He bit Scott's neck, harder this time, but Scott hardly felt it, so enraptured was he with being wanked off by those skilful hands. He leant round and whispered in Scott's ear, "I'm going to make you come all over the floor like the animal that you are, and then I'll get you on your back and fuck that gorgeous, tight, hairy arse of yours." And, with that, Ginger really picked up the pace of Scott's wanking, using his thumb to squeeze that precious head on every upstroke. Scott ceased merely to moan and groan louder and started to cry out, in a deep, horned-up voice, "Yeah, fuck yeah!"

The rough handling, and the images that Ginger had planted in his mind, soon had Scott's cum boiling in his balls, and ready to erupt. One last stroke sent Scott over the edge, and he knew that Ginger could feel the waves of semen moving up through his body, because he let go of Scott's bollocks in time to secure his fingers in a ring about the base of his prick, whilst using the wanking hand to push that diamond-hard cock down just a little. Choking the flow. Making each pulse that did escape more powerful, more intense. As Scott bellowed in that blend of ecstasy laced with pain that comes from the best and strongest orgasms, rope after rope of hot cum now shot out of his cock and spattered the tiled floor for several feet in front of him. It was so powerful that it was almost as if his spent nuts were physically contracting, desperate to force out the very last residue of sperm. He thought he might even buckle at the knees but Ginger, seemingly sensing the possibility, let go of Scott's manhood and wrapped his strong arms around his torso.

The two men stood there for a minute or two, recovering, getting their bearings. Scott couldn't be sure what Ginger was feeling, of course, but he knew that he'd just had one of the most, if not *the* most, erotic sexual experiences that he'd enjoyed since he broke up with the Whore. The two men would surely have been sweating buckets like the prize pair of horny fuckpigs they were by now, were it not for the fact that they'd done it all in a shower. All this without even fucking! And who the Hell was this guy who'd just brought him off this way? They'd met, what, twenty, thirty minutes ago? He didn't even know his name.

Ginger let Scott go. He took a step forward and, still breathing a little hard and feeling worn out from unloading, bent over, planting his hands on the front of each thigh, just above the knee. He gripped on tight to the wet, hairy skin, steadying himself, and shuffled his feet apart just a little to let his still tender balls hang free. A small drop of leftover cum oozed from his spent, semi-erect penis, drooling out of the piss slit in a long string before breaking free and dropping on the floor in a single, slimy gobbet.

A hard smack on the right arse cheek nearly sent him tumbling. Taken by surprise, he still wasn't ready for the second and the third, which followed in quick succession - strong, wet slaps that knocked out his breath and left his arse stinging. After the fourth blow Ginger grabbed and held the muscle, digging into it with his fingers. Exploring it, wanting it, needing it. And then, releasing his grip, he slid his fingers deftly down the length of Scott's crack, sliding through the hairy depths until he found his pucker.

 

[nyc4hung]

Super hot story! Keep going.

 

[rugbycockfan]

Super hot story! Keep going.

Cheers for the feedback. I do intend to publish more in the near future...

 

[malito]

Great story

 

[rugbycockfan]

4.

A wet finger was pressed hard against Scott's anus, and he winced as it forced its way past his tight defences and made contact with the sensitive lining within. Ginger was up to the first knuckle - but a bolt of electricity shot from Scott's arse to his brain as the rest of the finger was shoved hard to the hilt straight up his canal. Scott hadn't taken it up the arse for quite a long time, and having anything in there was going to take some getting used to - and yet...

"Fuck me, mate! This is a really nice arse. And hungry with it. I can feel you latching on to my finger - don't worry, you'll soon be getting the cock that you need." Ginger's sexy voice had Scott buzzing - and he knew that the other man, once again, had him figured out. Scott didn't fully understand what was happening. He was a top, he loved to top, revelled in the sensation of sliding that big dick in and out of a hot, tight hole - but the way this bloke was treating him... it was almost as though he was flicking on switches in his body that he never knew he had. He looked between his legs, and saw that his cock had, almost unbelieveably, already sprung back up to attention. He was raging hard. He should've been desperate to grip this guy's hips and feed his pipe up that magnificent, almost porcelain white, perfect muscular backside. Lifting Ginger off the floor, making him gasp, making him beg for it. So desperate that he'd do him right here and now, were it not for the fact that the necessary gear was back in his room.

Scott was the hung top, Ginger was the power bottom. It was what they should be doing. What Scott had come to expect. What, he felt, was expected of him.

Only, he didn't want to do what was expected of him.

"You want to finish cleaning up so we can go back up to my room and fuck?"

Ginger started working his finger slowly in and out of Scott's arse. Scott's cock strained and went rock hard, wishing that he was taking dick instead.

"So that I can give you a good hard fucking, like you want it, you mean?"

"Yes."

"You want to be a bottom boy, don't you? Want to lie back and let me use my cock on that tight hole of yours? Feel your dick and balls writhing, rubbing between our bodies as I fuck you?"

"Hell yeah! Come on mate, let's go upstairs and get a sweat on!"

Scott grunted as, without warning, Ginger yanked his finger out of his hole. His arse felt a little sore, but most of all empty. One sharp slap to the right arse cheek, then one to the left. "You go and get dried off, sexy. I'll clean up in here. I know where the stuff is, and I don't think my mate would thank me for leaving the floor covered in spunk."

Scott walked gingerly back to his locker, got his clean towel out and started to dry off. His head was spinning, light, scrambled, buzzing. He could still feel a slight sensation of sharpness inside his arse. The dull ache in his balls grew stronger each time his thighs brushed against them. And most of all, his dick stood straight up to attention, the whole obscene length of it speaking of the depth and strength of his arousal. He had no idea how he was meant to get his pants on properly, let alone hide this hardon in his trousers, when he and Ginger went upstairs to his room to get their rocks off. Though, to be honest, he didn't really care. He started towelling down, listening to the goings on over the wall as Ginger saved his friend a mucky job, sluicing away the evidence of male excess.

Presently, Ginger reappeared from behind the wall and rocked up to the bench next to him. Beads of water ran down his still soaking body. The water matted down his short red hair, and the fur spread across his broad chest. He was smiling, giving Scott a good look at rows of bright white, near perfectly even teeth. Those blue eyes shone. He grabbed his towel and started ruffling it through his hair, exposing his furry armpits. Scott stared admiringly at Ginger's body. He was practically drooling.

Ginger finished with his hair and started working that towel down his body. "Feeling good, mate?" he asked, "I certainly fucking am."

Scott threw his damp towel on the bench, as he broke into a broad smile of his own. A grin redolent of a mixture of pleasure and filthy anticipation. He put his hands on his hips, more than happy to display the evidence of exactly how good he was feeling. Perhaps better than he'd felt in years. "Well, what do you think?"

Ginger stepped up to Scott, who reached out to him instinctively. The men embraced, bodies locking together. Scott wrapped his arms around his lover's shoulder and waist, as he felt Ginger take his backside firmly in both hands. Hard cocks and hairy chests ground into one another. Scott's nuts still felt a little tender, but he didn't fucking care. He was too busy finding Ginger's lips, pressing his own to them insistently, feeling the sandpaper roughness of his short stubble. Their mouths opened, and tongues slipped past one another, probing eagerly. Again Ginger took charge of the situation, ramming his in as far as he could go and almost sucking Scott's face off, as his hands really got to work down below. One hand pulled hard at Scott's right buttock, and fingers from the other began circling and pressing at his hole. Pressing where Ginger's penis would surely, soon, be following.

Scott groaned loudly from deep down in his throat, the bellow muffled and suppressed by the kiss the men continued to share. No man had ever treated him quite this way before, and the feeling it was giving him was as overpowering as it was surprising. His mind was full of nothing but the urge to give in to this hot new man. He wanted to submit. He just wanted to be fucked, over and over again. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Ginger released Scott from the kiss, and the men looked each other in the eyes. Their faces only inches apart, Scott could see every tiny bristle on Ginger's upper lip, every fleck in the dark blue irises of his eyes, and every thing, faint artery in the whites. It was like admiring a work of art. He could have stood there, studying his man's features, for hours. Because this was his man. And in this moment, Scott was certainly, completely, his. Ginger spoke first.

"Hi, I'm Leon. Pleased to meet you."

Leon. His new boyfriend's name was Leon.

"Scott. Pleased to meet you too."

Both men smiled, before sharing another kiss. Scott tried to check himself. Leon was just a hook-up, not his boyfriend.

Well, not yet, anyway. And Leon wasn't "just" anything. This felt different. Powerfully erotic. Perhaps, even, something special...?

 

[Gj816]

Ok waiting. I could definitely get into a Scott like character myself. Tour story is hot.

 

[rugbycockfan]

Ok waiting. I could definitely get into a Scott like character myself. Tour story is hot.

Thank you! More instalments coming up soon...

 

[rugbycockfan]

5.

The locker room door swung open. "Oi, Lee mate, nearly closing time... Hey, looks like somebody made a new friend."

Must've been Leon's trainer friend, Scott reasoned. He sounded amused rather than surprised or cross, but why wouldn't he? He'd helped his mate set the situation up, after all. Scott demonstrated sufficient presence of mind not to turn around and reveal his glory to another complete stranger. He left the talking to Leon, who looked past him to the figure who'd just come through the door.

"Yeah mate, we're getting along rather well. Had a feeling he might be my sort of man. Any road, we'll get our kit on and be out of here in a couple of minutes. Now, make nice and start locking up out there, and stop leering at Scott's arse."

"Fuck off, yer dirty bastard!" the bloke said to Leon, but he was laughing, "You two'd better by ready and out of here in three minutes, or I'm throwing you out, whatever state your in."

Leon's mate walked out and left them to it. As pumped up as they both were, the men would have to get dressed. One advantage, Scott reasoned, of being a bit lightweight down there was that at least Leon oughtn't to have too much trouble disguising a rampant cock. Scott would have to make do with strategic kit bag positioning, and hope that nobody looked too closely.

"Come on, we best do as Tony says. When he says he'll try to throw us out regardless, he means it. He hates late shifts, and he's got a woman at home waiting." Leon got a bag out of his locker and fished a clean, grey jock out of it. He slipped it on, then sat down on the bench and started putting his socks on. Scott did his best to stuff his cock into a pair of white boxer briefs - not very successfully - and hauled on a pair of jeans.

"Oh, but I thought you said..."

"Nah, he weren't checking you out. I was just joshing. Straight as an arrow that man, but a good friend." Leon found a pair of navy shorts and a matching t-shirt, and started getting dressed, "My flatmate for a couple of years when we first moved up here. We both came for uni, and found jobs and stayed put afterwards. Nice lifestyle, without the rip off prices down South. Oh, and don't feel too red-faced about getting walked in on - it's not exactly the first time he's walked in on me making out with a man. Although it is the first time it's happened here."

Scott pulled on a clean black t-shirt, then sat down rather uncomfortably to put on socks and trainers. The ache in his nuts was finally subsiding, but his cock refused to do anything but stay ramrod straight, like an iron bar. The anticipation of getting fucked by Leon wouldn't allow it. Several inches poked out of the top of his waistband, and it got squashed between his trousers and stomach.

"Yeah, well, I guess we both lost track of the time."

"I know I did Scott. If only I'd looked at the clock earlier, I'd have hurried the fuck along and taken your arse right here." Leon flashed a condom packet at Scott before chucking it back in his bag. "I mean, I was thinking more along the lines of whether or not you'd have anything if we went back to your room, but once you proved so willing. Let's just say, I have fantasies - would've been nice to act one or two out.

Scott leant over and whispered into Leon's ear. "Well, I'm up here for the rest of the week. Slip your friend a bribe and maybe we can do something about that." Scott planted a quick kiss on Leon's neck, then set about throwing his kit into his bag. His hardon was absolutely raging: that bag would have to be hung about his neck and used as a shield to his modesty. Locker room fucking was a scenario straight out of gay porn that really got Scott horny. The very idea of leaning back on one of these benches and having Leon cover him, taking ownership of his hot mancunt with every stroke...

"Well, I was just looking for a quick shag, but if you're going to be here for a few days then..."

Scott suddenly felt the tug of reality at his shoulder. The spell was broken. Of course Leon wasn't interested in him. I mean, they had only just met. They'd only just learned each others' names! It was just a one-night stand. That made sense, he'd had them with horny men before. This was no big deal. Nothing special.

Nothing special. Again. Scott tried not to show it, but a look of disappointment obviously made itself plain in his face anyway.

"Oh shit mate, I'm having you on. Fact is, I fancy you. A lot. And I don't know whether anything might happen after tonight, but it should be fun finding out. Right now, I'll take whatever you've got to offer. Now come on, let's move."

Leon emptied his locker, zipped up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. The spring returning once more to his step, Scott also shouldered his bag, and held it across his middle so as not to be called out for public indecency on the way between gym and hotel room door. The men hauled arse out of the locker room, and headed for the exit.

Leon said goodnight to Tony as they left. Scott got a passing look at the guy - very fit as you'd expect, close cropped hair, a decent looker himself. Quite fuckable, but also entirely unavailable. Not that Scott had any reason to care. He only had eyes for one bloke tonight.

"I'll be checking in that locker room before I go home Lee. If I have to clean up after you..."

"Calm down mate, I've taken care of everything. I'll see you tomorrow."

Out the door, down the corridor, and into the lift. Leon slammed Scott against one side and snogged him before the doors were even shut. The raw sense of urgency, Scott felt, made it seem almost as if they were randy teens making out - but there was nothing juvenile in the weight, the power of Leon's body. His lover pressed himself, forced himself upon Scott - and he felt the energy coursing through him. He'd had no shortage of fun with sporty lads before, but none who felt nearly this eager to plant his cock in Scott's arse. It was so obvious that it was what they both wanted.

The lift was set to take them to the fifth floor, and to a date with destiny in Scott's hotel bed. The doors opened at the third floor. Two middle-aged women were waiting there to get in. Scott regarded them with his left eye. They looked at the two horned-up homosexuals open-mouthed for a moment, before dissolving into a fit of embarrassed giggles. They seemed to him like two schoolgirls who'd chanced upon a friend kissing a boy. He just winked at them as the door shut again; there was always a frisson of excitement in getting caught like that. A few moments later, the lift arrived at their floor, and Scott grabbed Leon by the hand and led him down the corridor to the left. They hadn't far to go. Room 501, 503, 505... 507. A fumble for the key card, in and out of the slot. The lock clicked open. Scott barged through the door, dragging Leon behind him. The men both dropped their bags and started to kiss again, even before the door closed and locked shut behind them.

 

[Gj816]

You are so mean leaving me hanging like that haha. Waiting

 

[rugbycockfan]

You are so mean leaving me hanging like that haha. Waiting

Yes, I know. Good, ain't it?

 

[Gj816]

Yes, I know. Good, ain't it?

Yea it is you write so nicely. I'd still like to find me a Scott. And I wouldn't run out of the room screaming either. I'd make him fall in love with me. After he went balls deep in me he'd be hooked. And so would I. Now go find me a Scott.

 

[rugbycockfan]

6.

Leon stripped his top straight off, then slammed Scott against the wall as he had in the lift. "I'm going to fuck your arse so hard. You won't know what's hit you." It made Scott feel incredibly horny. He'd never been handled quite this rough before - and he wanted more of it. As Leon locked lips with him again and invaded his mouth, Scott imagined what would happen if Leon shoved him face first to the wall. Yanked down his jeans, his underwear. Shoved his hard little ivory dick straight up his arse. Scott's own erection scraping up and down the wall, smearing it with precum, as Leon fucked him.

"Strip. Everything. Then on yer back."

Scott didn't need telling twice. The two men practically raced to get naked, shoes, socks and clothes flying everywhere. Scott won the race, hooking thumbs in the waistband of his white pants and yanking them down deftly in a single stroke, and then got on the end of the bed. He lay back, hands behind head, and drew his knees right up to his chest, offering Leon his arsehole.

Leon had also taken off everything, save for his snug-fitting, sexy jockstrap. The outline of his boner was clearly visible in the grey mesh pouch, stretching and distending it. A dark wet patch radiated from the point where the head of his cock rested. He stood there for a moment, saying nothing, just taking in Scott's body. Not quite literally licking his lips, but definitely looking like the cat that got the cream. Scott's already desperately hard cock twitched at the thought of just how much he was desired, how much Leon wanted to fuck him.

Leon approached the bed, and dropped to his knees. Scott looked down his body, watching most of Leon's face disappear as he leant in to get his first proper look at his prize. Strong fingers grabbed his backside, hard, digging in to the muscle and pulling it apart. Scott felt the skin down his crack being stretched to the limit, and then - the cool wetness of his lover's tongue, first flicking, tasting his arse gently, then jabbing and licking as Leon pressed his face tight into the target. The soft, eager teasing of his arsehole now contrasted with the sharp roughness of Leon's short stubble, moving, scraping against the surrounding skin. Scott threw his head back and arched his back a little, simultaneously revelling in the hot, wet sensation of the rimming, yet desperate for what was yet to come.

Scott just wanted to be mounted and fucked now, but Leon was clearly in no hurry to finish dining out on his arse. "Fuck!" Scott felt Leon dig his fingers really hard into his rump, pull it open afresh, spit on his hole and then dive straight back in. It was too much. Scott needed that dick so bad, he reached down with one of his hands and tried to grab a handful of Leon's short, flame red hair. Yearning, somehow, to push or pull his lover's face away from his arse. Get him to get down to serious business. Yet the rimming felt so intense that all he could do was run his fingers over the top of that gorgeous head. In the end, there was nothing for it but to beg.

"Fuck me mate... please, mate, I need it..." No response.

"Oh Christ on a fucking bike, I need it now. Shove your cock in me, take my arse!" Still no response.

"Please, Leon - I'm yours! I need you. I want to feel you inside of me."

Leon backed off and released his grip. He got off his knees. "And I want to be inside of you, Scott." Scott wrapped his fist around his iron bar hardon and stroked gently, as he watched Leon fetch his kit bag. He dropped it on the table that was opposite the bed, and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. Leon's jock-clad backside was now fully bared, as he slipped the tight-fitting garment over his hips, let it fall to the floor and kicked it to one side. He picked up the lube and turned around, exposing that short, hard, uncut cock. It wasn't big. Scott didn't fucking care. He just wanted this hot, naked, furry, muscular stud to plough him, shag him, screw him to the bed. To see and feel the moment when Leon unloaded right up inside his canal. To be owned.

Leon got down again, this time just on the one knee, and started to finger fuck Scott, generously lubing up his arse. Parting the anus, stretching Scott open, with one, two, three fingers. Scott threw his head back and started to moan loudly, which only made him feel even more horned up. Never mind the room next door, half the hotel would know by the morning exactly how much he was enjoying having his arse plundered. The lube, still cool where the excess had smeared around his pucker, turned warm and slick inside him as Leon worked his fingers back and forth. His backside was like a volcano, soon to be bathing Leon's manhood in hot lava.

The two men's gaze met, as Leon played with Scott's arse and Scott played with his oozing dick. "Hands off! Behind your head." Leon was wearing a filthy grin. It was time.

 

[Gj816]

Keep it up buddy.

 

[rugbycockfan]

7.

Scott put his hand back behind his head, and watched as Leon got up, put on his rubber, and then stood between his legs. The mattress deformed and shook under him as Leon planted his right hand firmly on the bed, supporting his weight, as he took his cock in the left and angled it exactly at the target. The first attempt just missed home and sent it thrusting hard up against Scott's perineum, but the second breached Scott's gaping, wet anus and Leon slid straight in, balls deep, making a low animal grunt as he went.

"Fuck yeah!" Scott didn't get that intense feeling of fullness, of needing to really work against the urge to shit, that he got with bigger dicked guys, but he certainly knew he'd been had. Leon's stubby cock stimulated the tender tissues of his canal, the upward angle jabbing into the arse wall, hitting the sweet spot.

Scott looked up at his man. Leon now had both hands planted either side of his body. Arms locked straight, lifting him clear. Eyes screwed shut, mouth slightly open. He knew that sensation all too well: the first moment when you get your cock inside a man you really want. Feeling it sheathed in that hot, tight flesh. Saddling up, and preparing for the ride. He looked down Leon's body, from the muscled shoulders down over the magnificent expanse of reddish-gold chest hair, and then following the trail as it ran down his rock hard abs, toward his navel and then beyond. Seemingly ever darker as it neared his loins - a trick of shadow and light. Lower down, Leon's taut body was increasingly obscured by the thick length of meat that now came between them: Scott's massive cock.

Leon began to flex his backside - carefully, in an effort to fuck Scott without dropping out - pulling back just a little before heaving his groin forward. Pushing his dick home into Scott's bare, defenceless arse, as far as it could possibly go, squeezing his balls against Scott's body. He arched his back, dropped his head, and opened his mouth, homing in on Scott's desperately swollen bell-end. Scott threw his head back and moaned loudly, this furry muscle lad now pounding his arse and eagerly cleaning his piss-slit simultaneously. He found himself getting increasingly verbal... "Fuck, that's good..." "Yeah, fuck that arse hard, mate..." "Oh shit, my cock! Oh Leon, mate, I think I'm gonna blow a nut..." Loud and bass and coarse, Scott's words provoked a reaction in Leon, who now engulfed Scott's cock head fully in his mouth, sealing his lips behind it, then sucking on it hard whilst running his willing tongue all over its distended surface.

Scott couldn't just lie back and take this. He needed to be an active participant. He brought his big hands back from behind his head and began to explore Leon's body. Running his fingers through the hair on his head, and on his chest. Over his shoulders, and down to the small of his back and the top of his powerful, flexing buttocks. Feeling the fuck both inside and out. Scott felt Leon give his knob-end one last, strong lick and suck, then let go and bring his weigh crashing down on him. The men kissed passionately, repeatedly. Strong, hot bodies in full contact. Scott could feel himself sweating up, starting to breathe harder, as if he was pounding out a few miles on the treadmill. Leon's pale skin was starting to flush, his cheeks turning pink, the first beads collecting on his forehead.

"Hands up mate. Show me those fucking pits." Scott did as he was told, locking his fingers once again behind his head and granting Leon access to the deep, thick black fur. Leon buried his nose and mouth, first in one side and then the other, going in deep, working with his tongue. All the while, the two men maintained their rhythmic bonding - Leon's cock relentlessly pumping Scott's arse, Scott's genitals getting pressed between their bodies. Their midriffs grew slick and wet with Scott's free-flowing juices.

"Fuck, I bloody love men!" Leon was really getting stuck in by now.

"Me too. And I've not been with a man like you for a long time Leon, a long time." And, in truth, there'd never been anyone quite like Leon.

"You're fucking beautiful Scott."

The men quickened the pace, getting hotter, sweatier, more horned up, more desperate to cum. As the action got more frenetic, Leon's cock slipped out of Scott's arse a couple of times - but it didn't take them long to reconnect.

Scott could feel and hear Leon's growing breathlessness. The two men's sweat began to run more freely, mingling together in their body hair, or draining down and soaking into the duvet beneath them, which started to cling to Scott's back. "I'm getting close Scott. Do you need to slow down?"

"Hell no! Lay into me fella, give me what you got!"

Scott's balls, caught as they were between his body and Leon's, hauled, tightened themselves up against his cock root. Once again, the familiar feeling of nuts hardening, the sperm heating to boiling point within them...

Leon beat him to the punch. "Oh fuck! Fuck, I'm coming! Oh, Scott... yeah... UGH! UGH! OH! Fuck. Me..." Leon's hips bucked five or six more times, emptying the last of his load into his condom. Draining his balls completely. Scott would've loved the sex to carry on for hours, but he too was sent over the edge by the heat, the friction, the lust. The boiling in the balls, the pulsing of the dick, wave after wave of orgasmic release. The animalistic bellowing as he blew his load. Scott fired his semen into the narrow space between their bodies. Slickening their skin with spunk, matting their chest hair. The last volleys fell shorter, pooling and smearing near the tip of his cock, the excess running off his belly and dripping down onto the bed.

Leon rolled off Scott and flopped onto his back. The two men side by side, wet with sweat, smeared with cum. Shagged out. Scott turned his head left, and saw Leon looking back at him. They smiled at each other. They burst out laughing. They shared a kiss. The two of them were in a complete mess, but it felt so bloody good. For Scott, at that very moment, there was only him, with that man, on that bed, in that room. And the night was but young...

Leon looked down at his body, then around at the scene of sticky devastation they'd just created. "Scott, you randy bastard - this is all your fault, you know."

"Oi! I seem to recall it was you fucking me."

"Yeah, true - but at least I had the decency not to spray everywhere," he said, waving his dick a little and then pulling off and tying up the rubber. "Look what somebody else did."

"Guilty as charged! Come on, let's get ourselves cleaned up."

Scott went to the bathroom, ran a hot shower, and got in. Leon was right behind him. They stood under the water as they had in the gym, only this time their cocks were both spent - for the time being, anyway - and it was all good clean soapy fun. They washed each others chests and backs. Each man was left to deal with cleaning how own super-sensitive, post-coital tackle. They wrapped their bodies around each other, tenderly caressing tired limbs and aching muscles with their hands. They kissed. A lot. Scott felt ridiculous for entertaining the notion, but this felt very much like falling in love. Teenage crushes are born out of the first date, the first shag. Not actual, honest to God love affairs. And yet... Leon touched him so tenderly, rested so easily in his arms. The force, the insistence, the animal power that he felt in his body as they fucked was all gone. There was still strength in every touch, but tempered with gentleness. It felt so good - and so right.

The men towelled down, then went to bed together - tired from a long day's work, working out, and sexual intimacy. Kissing and holding each other closely, they soon fell asleep in each others' arms.

 

[Gj816]

O you've got to find me a Scott. Sweet.

 

[rugbycockfan]

8.

Scott woke early the next morning, squinting at the windows, taking a moment to focus and get used to the light. Leon was already out of bed. He'd pulled the curtains open, and was leaning his weight on the windowsill, looking out across the city. It was the first time Scott had seen his boyfriend - he'd already decided to ask Leon to become his boyfriend - in the light of day. And even on a watery grey morning like this, he looked stunning. From the back of his head, down that v-shaped back to the most wondrous, perfectly rounded fuckable arse, and long, strong, hairy legs. Of course, he'd not actually been in that hot arse yet, but... well, at this point he didn't very much care, to be frank. Half-remembered fragments of what Leon had said last night came to mind - something about choosing a man for himself not his cock, and how horny he'd felt when Leon talked so dirty and called him a bottom boy. And then there was the memory of how they had held each other, in the shower and then in bed, after Leon had fucked him.

Scott wanted this man so bad that it hurt.

"Good morning."

Leon turned to face him. "Good morning Scott. Sorry if I disturbed you, it's a bit early to be up and about but... I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Stuff on my mind."

"Ah. You want to talk about it?"

A pause. "No, it's OK. Then again... Hell, I don't know. I... you don't want to know. Fuck, Scott, why d'you have to be so... fucking perfect?"

High praise indeed. Scott couldn't recall anybody calling him perfect before. Not that he felt elated. Worried, more like, at Leon's confusion. His disconsolate slumping into the chair in the corner of the room. He was looking down at the floor, but not focussing on it. Staring blankly into thin air, face etched with worry.

"I'm not perfect Leon. Nobody is. But... listen, I just wanted you to know that last night was great and... I know we've only known each other about five minutes, but I'd like to get to know you a lot better, and..."

"Scott."

"...if there is something that you feel you can share..."

"Scott! Please..."

"What is it?"

"There's something I need to tell you. I think you're a great bloke and last night was fantastic, but..."

'Oh, for fuck's sake,' Scott thought to himself. The sinking feeling came upon him, yet again.

"I've got a partner Scott. I've got a partner, and I should never have done this. I'm sorry. It was a mistake."

Silence. Scott looked down at the bed, then over at Leon.

"Yes. It was. I'm no saint, but I make a habit of not fucking with attached men. I don't much like the idea of being a homewrecker, or someone's bit on the side."

"It's not like that, you don't understand..."

Scott wasn't having any of this mealy-mouthed shit. The anger started to rise in him. "Then what is it like Leon? Eh? One man not enough for you? Exactly how many blokes from the gym have you had sex with this week, I wonder?"

"Please, there was only you..."

"Oh well, I am privileged, aren't I? Whoop-dee-doo! I've only had to share you with one other man. Joy."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

"Yes you did. You thought with your bollocks. Oh for fuck's sake, just get dressed and go, would you?"

Scott turned away from Leon, picked up the remote control for the TV and switched on some early morning sports show. Triathlon, or some such thing. He wasn't really watching, of course, but it was less painful than having to look at the slut he'd spent last night getting banged by. On the surface he was coldly furious. Just beneath it he was plain miserable. Leon pulled on his clothes, gathered up the rest of his belongings and left, closing the door and leaving Scott further from happiness than ever.

 

[hunginsouth]

The joys of being a member of a gym attached to a hotel!

 

[rugbycockfan]

9.

Scott watched the rest of the sports show and then a chunk of the breakfast news, before hauling out and starting to get ready for the next day up the regional office. He tried not to think about Leon, but he couldn't help it. How could he have been taken in so easily? He wasn't exactly the first man with a boyfriend who'd tried to pull him, and he usually had a pretty good nose for them. And the sex was so good, and the way they were together afterwards felt just right. But no, Leon had been just another slag. He wondered to himself whether the men who slept with the Whore had all been knowingly pissing all over his relationship, or whether some of them might have been duped as he had. Thinking what a nice gentleman Andrew was, and so sexy, and maybe, just maybe, boyfriend material. Just as Scott had started to feel about Leon. Scott was now angry with himself as well as Leon. What a fucking idiot he'd been, simply falling into bed that way like some naive young lad barely out of his teens.

He showered thoroughly to scrub away any trace of Leon, and tidied the room. He weighed up for a moment leaving a note to the housekeeping staff apologising for the cum stains on the duvet, but what was he going to say. 'I was banging a tart last night?' They'd have seen worse. He put on his suit, shouldered his laptop case, and went downstairs for breakfast.

Scott only had two days left before he was done in Leeds and would be driving back down to Essex and, although he had spare gym gear with him, he figured he could very happily go without a workout for that long, so as to avoid the potential of any embarrassing encounters. Nor was he at all bothered about his sex life, or lack thereof. At least, that's what he kept saying to himself.

Repeatedly.

During all those long meetings and deadly dull training seminars where his mind kept drifting again and again back to the previous night. How that hot as Hell fiery redhead had captivated him. Used and abused his steely cock until it shot all over the floor. Fingered and probed his arsehole mercilessly. Taken him to bed and sucked and fucked him to the Moon and back. Tenderly washed and held his body, and curled up with him in bed.

Scott checked himself each time he realised exactly where his mind was wandering, but he couldn't help it. How could he be expected to concentrate on the minutiae of profit targets and ROA percentages when they were competing with lustful images of men? Hot, athletic, redheaded men. Well, one man specifically, of course. Naked. Playing with Scott's big cock. Fucking Scott right up his tight arse.

Scott's cock spent the entire day going up and down in his pants like a yo-yo as he fought for control. The only effective means to get it to calm down was to remember that the man responsible for all of this was a slapper whom he had been obliged to order, ever so impolitely, to fuck off - and even that technique wasn't 100% effective. Leon was out of Scott's bed but still messing with his head and, for now at least, he was defenceless against this peculiar, cruel torture. Scott was left wondering what terrible sin he'd committed in a past life to deserve this.

Men: were they really worth all the hassle? Men were slags. Men were trash. Especially every man, ever, that he'd slept with. Might as well forget about finding a man, and choose something better to do with life. What about astronomy? He'd always been kind of interested in that. Yes, out in the countryside in the dead of night, watching the stars. The night sky was one thing that men couldn't fuck up. Just him, a telescope, the wondrous beauty of the heavens, and Leon cuddling up behind him. Sharing his body heat there in the dark, bringing warmth to the nocturnal chill. His manly hands working their way under Scott's shirt, down his stomach, unbuckling his belt...

For fuck's sake.

By the time the endless, tortuous day at the office was finally over, Scott had never been so glad to have been sat at a conference table. His new best friend, shielding his embarrassment from the rest of the room. The front of his boxer briefs was saturated with all the pre-cum that he'd dumped in them during the course of the day, such that he was mightily relieved not to have made a visible stain in his trousers.

This had to stop, of course. He'd not been this worked up since he first went up to university, suddenly liberated from the confines of small town life and let loose in a delightfully parent-free adventure playground of horny young men. All over a one night stand! And he was 32, and not 18 anymore. Mercifully, it was already Thursday evening, and he'd be straight off down the M1 after breakfast on Saturday morning. Away from Leeds, away from Leon, and back to a familiar routine of rattling around an oversized house for an undersized life, topped off with the occasional rough shag when the howling emptiness of it all overwhelmed him. What joy.

And then, later that evening, as Scott wandered back towards the lifts after a dinner interrupted only by yet more daydreams of an adult nature, who should come walking up to him but Tony. Yes, the fitness trainer guy who helped a certain shameless slut to seduce him the night before. Just when life couldn't have got any better...