Chapter 29

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.

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.

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.