Jake's Christmas Present

"Eat it, mate!" he called out. "Stick your tongue up my arsehole!"

And I smiled against his cheeks, having every intention of complying in full.

He seized my head and ground my face into his backside, pushing my tongue deeper into him so that the strong acrid taste of his bowels became even more overpowering. I lapped vigorously at everything he could give me, finding it incomprehensively delicious on a purely animal, sexual level while at the same time being fully conscious of how base and vulgar it was.

He grabbed my hair and used it to slam my face back and forth at his hole, all the time calling out to me to lick him and eat him; to taste his dirty shitter; to feed on his stink.

Unlike rimming Bradley, which had been intimate and sensual, rimming Guy's much more crudely-flavoured and overwhelmingly masculine arse seemed raunchy and uncouth. And, God, did I love it!

He let my head go and I fell back from him, releasing his cock which I'd been clumsily wanking as I'd rimmed him.

"I don't want to rush you, mate," he called back to me, breathlessly, "but I'm gonna really need to fuck your arse pretty soon. I need this up you, Rob, seriously! I'm aching for it..."

"In a minute, Guy," I told him, my mouth poised at his spit-soaked arse-crack. "You'll have your turn."

I wanted to tease him some more: to make him wait a little longer for what he so wanted to do to me.

I ducked back in to lick his swollen, hairy balls and to enjoy the sharper taste of his sweat and testosterone on them. They were enormous: even bigger than mine get when I let them over-fill with my pent-up semen. I loved pressing my face into them, feeling their bloated hardness and imagining so many sperms inside them so desperate to make their escape, and sniffing the little trench between their extruding mounds where the smell of his maleness was strongest.

Then I switched position to push my head between his legs from underneath and licked in quick, short jabs along the thickened shaft of his throbbing cock before taking the oozing head of it fully into my mouth. As I'd expected, he greatly enjoyed me sucking on his organ and grabbed my head with both his big hands, holding it steady while he fucked my face. I basked in the salty taste of his juices dribbling down my throat and the sour smell of his sweaty pubic hair, faintly reminiscent of a urinal, as it tickled my nose with every thrust he made.

"Come on, mate," he called down to me again. "I'm fucking desperate for your bum around my knob. I've been hard as a rock since your lad said you'd be up for it."

I pulled off his cock and smiled up at him.

"Come on, Rob," he implored. "I need it up you. Bend over for me... let me use your arsehole like a pussy!"

I laughed. "You have such a way with words, Guy!"

He didn't laugh back. His face was pale and his forehead was dripping with sweat: his hands were trembling, he was so intensely sexually agitated. There was to be no more messing around.

I got onto the bed properly with him and grabbed my lube and a condom from my bedside drawer, thanking my foresight for having bought in a variety of sizes. Guy tore the wrapper open and unfurled the rubber sheath down his length in one swift and well-practised movement and, after applying a squirt of gel to my hole, I got on all fours in front of him.

"You're a mate, Rob," he grunted. "I so fucking need this."

He shuffled up behind me on the bed and wordlessly nudged my legs more widely apart with his knees. Then he grabbed his over-excited tool and lined it up against my hole, feeling his way with his fingertips.

He muttered, "Not quite Mr Tight Arse now, are you?"

I giggled, enjoying him referencing my widening hole. Soon I hoped to be Mr Massively Gaping Arse.

He pressed his cock-head against my ring and, feeling me open up for him, shoved his whole organ right the way up inside me with one surprisingly abrupt thrust. Unlike with Bradley there was to be no tentative easing in and seeking reassurance: Guy needed to fuck and that was all that was in his mind.

I gasped with a combination of shock and delight. "Jesus, Guy! You don't mess about, do you?"

"Oh, God!" he called out at the pleasure of feeling a warm, tight tunnel clamping around his organ. He sighed and I could hear in the strength and the feeling of it how much he'd been needing this.

He grabbed me by the hips and started fucking me in earnest: his rhythm at once rapid and his technique rough.

"Oh, God!" he cried out again, his pace getting quicker. He moved his hands to my shoulders to lever me against his swollen manhood and started driving himself frantically in and out of my hole.

"Oh!! Fucking yes!!" he shouted, ramming himself in and out of me so hard that his heavy, over-sized balls slammed against my thighs so fiercely that I thought it must surely be painful for him. If it was, though, he ignored the discomfort and ploughed on undeterred.

Within a few short but incredibly intense seconds, he was shuddering and gasping and I felt the heat of his semen squirting up into the condom deep inside my bowels. His bollocks, which had been so bloated with his seed, were finally getting to empty themselves.

As his orgasm had subsided, he collapsed on top of me and we lay together, his big hairy chest heaving against my sweating back, as the squirting of his cock slowly abated.

"That was... er... prompt," I said from under him, feeling somewhat disgruntled.

"That's the one I needed, mate," Guy explained, his cock still hard and throbbing inside my rectum. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready for another one we can both enjoy."

He pushed himself up from me and slid his cock out of my backside with a crude, noisy slurp. He pulled the condom off and laughed at how full it was with his hot, white seed.

"My balls feel about two stone lighter," he joked. "If I hadn't have had this on, you'd have had sloppy shits for about two weeks!"

"Ugh, Guy!" I chided him. "Don't be vulgar!"

"You liked me talking dirty when you had your face in my arse," he retorted, wrapping the spent condom in some tissue.

"That was different," was all I could manage to explain myself.

He stood up, stretched noisily and let out an involuntary fart.

He grinned over at me sheepishly. "Oops! Sorry, mate. Good job that didn't happen when your face was back there!"

"Too bloody right," I agreed. That would have been well and truly over-stepping the mark.

He glanced out of my window. "Do you know your neighbour's watching us? That bloke opposite."

I nodded. "I'm hoping at some point he might give me a similar show in return."

Guy chuckled. "Do you want to give him something else to watch now?"

"You mean you're ready for another go already?" I asked.

He looked down at his cock, still hard and upright in spite of the white dribble of semen still oozing from the long, puckered slit at its tip. "Yeah... aren't you?"

"Yes, of course. But I'm not the one who just produced about a quart of cum."

"That was just... you know... an easing of the pressure inside my bollocks, mate. A biological thing. Now we can have some fun."

I got up off the bed.

"Let me top up our drinks. Then we'll go for round two."

"Sparkin', mate!" he grinned and I headed downstairs.

As I poured our drinks, I thought about Paul in the house opposite. I'd gone round to his house a few years earlier to tell him about some tiles which had fallen off his roof. He'd got me to help him up into his loft -- he didn't have a loft ladder -- and had slipped halfway up, pushing his backside into my face. At the time it had seemed like an accident, but now that I thought back, I wondered if it had been deliberate. He'd certainly lingered there, with his bum pressing into my face and I'd been surprised that he hadn't pulled away quickly with embarrassment. Perhaps he'd wanted to see if I became aroused at the idea of rimming him, years before I was even aware that such an activity existed.

When I got back to the bedroom, Guy and I sat on the bed enjoying our drinks and the casual intimacy of being naked together.

"Thanks for letting me use your bum, mate," Guy said appreciatively, his cock still hard as he drank from his beer glass. "I really needed it."

I smiled over at him. "Yeah, I sort of spotted that small detail."

He chuckled. "I just so fucking needed a hole to nut into."

"Any time, Guy," I told him, taking a drink from my wine. "I enjoyed providing one."

He looked at me in surprise. "Yeah? What your Jake said... I sort of assumed it had just been... well... a bit of turn-taking..."

"It was," I nodded. "But I found that I like it both ways."

He grinned, no doubt anticipating future opportunities, and his cock stiffened further.

"That's good to hear, Rob."

I shrugged. "I pretty much assumed when we agreed to go to another match in the New Year, you'd expect some action."

"Yeah, but I wasn't sure how far you'd want to go. I thought we'd probably have a wank together and you'd want to do your weird thing licking my arse, but I didn't want to assume any more than that."

"Actually," I said, "when we stay over in the hotel -- the four of us -- would you be up for me and you having a double bed like this? It'd be much more fun."

I wanted to sleep with him. After spending the night with Bradley, I wanted to have Guy's eager erection grinding into me in the small hours: for the two of us to wake each other up in our horniness and to couple up silently for a quick perfunctory fuck in the dark; for us to just go at each other, hot and sweaty, thrusting and gasping, until we both climaxed wordlessly and then fell back onto the bed to sleep again in our own abundant mess.

Guy wasn't keen, though. "It'd seem a bit gay, mate. I'm not into stuff like that."

"Yeah, I know, and neither am I," I countered. "It'd just give us more space for sex than a couple of twin beds would."

"I don't want Simon seeing that we share a bed, Rob. I mean your lad's pretty cool about us getting up to stuff together, but Simon would be totally freaked out."

I thought back to how he and Jake had masturbated together at the sounds of their fathers' sex in the hotel. His son, I suspected, wasn't as innocent as he liked to believe.

"We could push two single beds together, if you like," he suggested, "and then separate them again in the morning. I wouldn't mind that."

"As long as we'd sleep together," I insisted.

He looked over at me, taking a swig from his beer. "You're not getting weird on me, are you, Rob? Getting stupid feelings and stuff...?"

His eyes were suddenly guarded.

"Of course not!" I laughed as if it was the most stupid thing I'd heard. "I just like the thought of you getting hard in the night and your cock working its way between my cheeks for a quick one."

He grinned back at me. "Oh, right -- yeah, that's okay. I'd be up for that."

It's not like I want to snuggle up to your big, hairy chest in the night, I thought. Or to wrap my arms around you and feel so secure to be sleeping with my face nuzzling into your back. Nothing like that.

"There was a lad called Robin on the rig," he went on, "who'd sometimes get into my bunk with me in the night when he was lonely. It'd be like that, I suppose."

I smiled. Lucky old Robin. "Exactly," I agreed. "Just like that."

"Right," he said abruptly, putting his half-drunk pint glass back on the bedside table next to him. "Pass me another condom and assume the position, Mr Furlong. Head down, arse up."

"Isn't it my turn? Don't I get to have a go on you this time?"

Guy laughed. "No way, mate. I don't let blokes shaft my shitter. No way in hell."

I smiled. He was like the spirit of Christmas personified: so eager to give and so disinclined to receive.

"That's not very fair, though," I said.

"That's the way it works, Rob. Take it or leave it. I don't let guys do bum stuff to me -- well only you with your tongue, but that's it. I mean, I'll do stuff for you in return -- I know how the game works."

"What sort of stuff?" I asked.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I'd offer to suck your cock but you said back-along you didn't like it..."

"Actually," I said. "I've discovered that when men do it, it kind of works for me."

He laughed at that. "Yeah, it's funny, isn't it, how blokes give the best blow jobs? Okay, then... I'll suck your cock if you'll let me fuck you again. How does that sound?"

I grinned back at him. If I could work it cleverly, I might manage to wangle rather more than a cock sucking.

"Sounds like a deal," I agreed.

He had me lie down on the bed and nuzzled his face between my legs.

"I don't know how much you'll like this," he warned me. "Blokes on the rig seemed to either love or hate what I do."

My cock was quite floppy and he held the shaft of it upwards and licked the large pink head of it.

"It tastes okay," he said, moving his tongue around inside his mouth as if examining the flavour. "Mmm... a bit saltier than most dick-juice... not that I'm an expert, like."

He took the top few inches into his mouth and gently sucked at my slit, teasing my precum from it. Then he worked his lips downwards, managing to consume the top six inches or so of my large organ, and moved back up again, establishing a slow but firm rhythm back and forth.

My cock gradually enlarged in its appreciation of the sensation of his mouth. It wasn't as expert and luxurious a blowjob as that which Bradley had been able to provide me with, but the gentle sweeping action of Guy's mouth was pleasant enough for me to enjoy. There was far more of the warm wetness around my cock that had put me off oral sex for so many years, but not enough for it to be unpleasant.

Guy kept working my shaft, seeming to enjoy the way my organ was stiffening inside his mouth and licking thirstily at the flow of liquid that was oozing from its head. His lips kept making loud smacking noises betraying how hard he was sucking at me, and I wondered if it was this that some of the men on the rig hadn't enjoyed: the sensation of such strenuous suction around one's organ was, to say the least, a little odd.

He pulled off and asked with a grin, "How do I rate as a cocksucker, then?"

"Top of the league, mate," I smiled. "But not in the way you mean."

He laughed and I asked him instead to lick my balls while I masturbated: that would be more pleasant, I thought, and would take him nearer to where I hoped he might go.

He moved down and lapped at my large paired nuts like they were a couple of especially generous servings of ice-cream. He coughed when my pubes tickled the back of his throat and I gently worked my foreskin back and forth, enjoying the sensation of his face slowly moving down between my legs.

"Yeah," I called out to him. "Lick the base of my balls, Guy... where it's hot and sticky..."

He moved down further, lapping at the sweatiness between my legs, his nose pressing between the raised mounds of my bollocks. I grabbed his head gently and moved him further down, so that his tongue was licking along the hairy ridge underneath my balls.

"Yeah," I said to him. "Right down there.... right between my legs..."

His chin was between my cheeks and he pushed still lower, his tongue homing in on the place where I wanted it to be. My hole was gaping open for him, still stretched and swollen from the pounding his cock had so briefly given it earlier, and I wanted him to taste it; to revel in my strongest and most intimate flavours.

My hand was growing faster on my cock in anticipation of where he was headed.

I pushed his face lower, more firmly than before, and his tongue teased even further into the deepening furrow between my cheeks, getting closer... still closer...

But then abruptly, he pulled back and looked up at me.

"I'm not doing that, Rob! I know what you're after and there's no fucking way!"

"Go on, Guy," I implored, my hand slowing on my expectant shaft. "Please... you'll love it..."

"I'm not doing it. End of. I know you're into it, but I'm not."

"Just try it... just once..."

"I'm not putting my mouth on your arsehole, Rob. It's not gonna happen."

"Okay, so just put your face there for a few seconds... just to see if you like the smell..."

"It's your fucking shithole! What's to like?"

"It's not like that, Guy -- not when you're up close to it. It's really sexy... really hot..."

"It's not happening, mate," he insisted, shaking his head.

"Okay. Just for a second... literally one second... and if you really hate it, if it really is so grim to you, just pull away and I'll never ask for it again. I'll never even mention it again."

He hesitated, wavering.

"Please, Guy... I'd love it so much..."

"Literally one second?" he asked.

"Literally."

"My nose or my mouth?"

"Your nose."

He nodded uncertainly. "Okay... since it's so important to you. But if I throw up, you have to clean it up."

I smiled. "No problem."

He pushed his sceptical face between my legs again and homed in on my arsehole, red and dilated from his earlier intrusion. He pressed his nose towards the swollen ring and tentatively sniffed its indelicate scent. I expected him to pull away immediately, without taking the time to appreciate it fully, but he didn't. He held his face there, inquisitive, and sniffed again, more strongly.

And then -- oh heaven! -- I felt the tip of his tongue curiously teasing between my cheeks, working its way gently and hesitantly towards my inflamed and puckered anus. He gained confidence from the allure of my taste, and pressed inwards more firmly.

I wanted to call out to him but I didn't dare at the fear of frightening him off. So I just lay there and let him explore for himself the intoxicating flavour of my most secretive spot. He reached my hole and gently licked around it, pressing his tongue in more assuredly as he enjoyed the strengthening pungence he was discovering.

Then he pulled out of me and looked up at me, grinning. "Okay, you win. It's fucking well hot! Jesus, mate, my cock's dripping!"

It was indeed oozing copiously as it throbbed demandingly, straining upwards towards his stomach.

"Rim me, Guy," I commanded him. "Rim my arsehole."

He grinned more broadly. "You just try and stop me!"

He knelt upright, grabbed me by the thighs and hitched my legs over his shoulders, holding onto me with both hands. Now that he had my splayed arse full-on in his face, he plunged his tongue into my hairy cleft and licked roughly and hungrily at my swollen ring, grunting in pleasure at the sheer strength of my taste.

I reached forwards and grabbed his cock, the head of it bloated and shiny with his excitement, and wanked him rapidly to intensify his pleasure. With my other hand I tugged at my own organ pointing stiffly downwards across my stomach almost reaching my chest, so that I was gratifying us both with the same rhythm.

My balls bobbed around, smacking Guy on the forehead as he darted his tongue in and out of my bowels, slavering at my hole with the delight of what he was tasting.

He pulled out of me, briefly, to tell me: "Fucking hell, mate, this is awesome!"

And then, after plunging back in and feeding on me some more, called out again: "I couldn't understand why you were doing this in that hotel! Now I fucking get it, mate! It's better than eating muff!"

He went in yet again and rimmed me with clumsy abandon -- his technique unrefined and his stubble chafing painfully against my cheeks -- but nevertheless I pounded my cock with excitement as I rubbed it with his own.

In spite of his unsophistication, the sensation of his tongue inside my swollen hole was thrilling: the way I was so tender and stretched open from his cock vastly intensified the feel of him licking around my ring and working himself deep inside me. I gasped and writhed in pleasure at what was far and away the most exhilarating rim-job I had so far received: the methodical ministrations of the tailor in the clothes shop and even Bradley's confident and accomplished tonguing both paled into insignificance compared what Guy was doing to me.