Date: Mon, 27 Aug 2018 15:55:17 +0000 (UTC)
From: Simon Wright <simonalone48@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: SUNBATHING - PART 6

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SUNBATHING PART 6


This was unbelievable!  As if observing someone else, I seemed to watch
myself enter the toilet, naked, red-faced, but with a throbbing cock.  Not
sure how Jack wanted me, I thought I ought to adopt the most wanton
position I could think of.  I stretched out prone in the centre of the
toilet floor between the urinal trough and the stalls with my arms and legs
outspread.  I was somewhat disgusted when I saw that the floor had
definitely not been cleaned this morning: there were wet patches all over
it, but near the trough other guys' spillages now formed puddles.  It was
obvious too that the drain was partially blocked, with the result that
there was urine lying all along the trough.  The stench of stale urine
filled my nostrils.  My shoulders, my buttocks, the backs of my legs and,
worst of all, my hair became damp, in places wet.

In a moment or two, Jack led the other customers in from the bar.  They
formed a tight circle around me.  There were so many that they had to stand
shoulder to shoulder.  One or two were already undoing their flies and
reaching for their cocks, but most were just looking down at this
exhibitionist piss slut, lying there on full shameless display with a
raging erection that seemed capable of producing endless amounts of precum.
I felt ashamed of my wantonness, but at the same time I was aroused to
untold heights of sexual tension.

`No,' said Jack.  `I think it would be better for the poor guy who has to
clean in here if we changed the arrangements.' Turning to me, he said, `Get
up off the floor.  Go and sit in the trough with your back against the
wall.'

I wasn't sure if this represented any improvement for me, but I complied
with his command.  I lowered my backside into the stale and stagnant urine
standing in the trough.  I was disgusted to feel my arse becoming soaked
with other guys' piss, guys who were total strangers.  In twos and threes,
the strangers from the bar approached me, pointed their cocks at me and let
their piss flow.  Each time one of them finished, his place was taken by
another guy wanting to relieve his bladder.  Some aimed at my chest, some
at my face, some at my cock and balls.  Within minutes I was totally
covered in urine, but as a small consolation, this was at least fresh.

The depth of piss in the trough increased.  Slowly my arse was being laved
with fresh warm urine from the guys in the toilet and that contribution was
being added to the stale, foul-smelling concoction which had been lying
there overnight, I guessed.  The atmosphere became rancid with the stench.

I was shocked at my reaction.  I had thought that this disgusting and
demeaning treatment would cheapen me so much that my erection would
subside, but no!  In total shame at myself, I felt my balls stir and, no
matter how disgusted I felt with myself, I came – a hands-free orgasm.
This was greeted with cheers and laughter from my tormentors.  No, they
were not tormenting me!  They had brought me to a climax.  I had enjoyed
their treatment of me.  I had revelled in their piss.  What a piss slut!

As the last few guys drained and shook their dicks, my wet skin felt
something new.  They were turned on by my degradation and were furiously
wanking themselves to orgasm.  I was now on the receiving end of copious
supplies of their spunk.  To my horror, one of them called out to the guys
in the bar, `This slut wants your cum.'  And several of them came back into
the toilet to make their contribution.

Despite the fact that I had only cum just a few moments ago, I shamefacedly
was aware of a stirring in my penis.  It didn't achieve full erection, but
it was definitely swollen.  This did not go unnoticed by them.  Jack, in
particular, who had not participated in the gross scene, but had only been
a keen and interested observer, Jack was definitely smiling knowingly.

He said, `Yes, you are definitely enjoying exhibiting yourself and being
used for the gratification of others.  But, sadly, we must be going.  It's
time to go to the beach.'

`But – but, I can't go out like this, smelling of piss and sex,' I
protested.

`You're right,' he agreed.  `I'll get the beach stuff from the car, while
you clean yourself up.'

With that, he left.

Clean myself up?  How?  Then the barman came in and said, `Come out into
the yard.  It's warm out there in the sun and you can get clean out there.
Unfortunately, the boss is away and I can't get access to his flat for a
towel for you, but you'll soon dry off in the sun.'

I followed him out into the yard.  It was obviously just a storage area for
the empty beer kegs, but it was surrounded by a high wall, so I felt
relatively safe from observation.  The barman had me stand in the middle of
the yard and turned a hose on me.  The cold water was a shock.  The stream
from the hose was hard and, in contrast to the warmth of the sun, bitterly
cold, but I could feel it washing away the sperm and urine in which I was
covered.  The resultant sensation was of a deep cleansing.  It was
refreshing and I felt the sordid treatment that had been meted out to me
being washed away.

When the barman turned off the hose, he said, `Stay out here to dry off in
the sun while I go to hose out the toilet.'  It was pleasant in the sun and
I was soon dry and actually enjoying the sensation of being naked, clean
and warm.  My only concern was that I was in the yard behind a strange bar
where I knew no-one and I didn't know where my scanty clothes were.  I
guessed that Jack had put them somewhere safe, but where that was I had no
idea.  As there was nothing I could do, I did nothing, except enjoy being
alone in the sun.

A couple of the guys came out to join me, saying, `We thought you would be
hungry and thirsty after what you have just been through, so we've brought
you a sandwich and a beer.  You can sit on one of the kegs and relax.
We'll stay out here with you.'

I would have preferred to remain alone while I sorted out the conflicting
emotions I was experiencing, but their tone seemed to allow for no
discussion.  So I agreed.

As I tucked in to the sandwich (remarkably good – a ham salad), and the
beer (lager – not my favourite, but nonetheless refreshing), one of them
said, `Jack did say that while he was away, we were to be sure to keep your
erection up for you.  I can see that your cock is quite limp, so we are
going to do something about that.  Just keep on eating and leave it to us.
Stand up'

Again, I seemed to have no choice in what was happening to me.  One stood
behind me and reached round and teased my nipples.  The other knelt down in
front of me and licked my balls while fondling my arse cheeks.  Against my
will, my flaccid cock began swelling again.  As it did so, the guy in front
grasped my ballsack with his right hand, the base of my cock with his left
and engulfed my turgid member in his mouth.  It is difficult to eat and
drink while moaning with sexual desire, but I tried!

My penis rose up with lust.  Again I was reacting to demeaning treatment in
what I would have considered in the past as an inappropriate manner.
Involuntarily, I started to thrust forward into the guy's mouth.  The guy
behind me was pinching my nipples and I was again overcome with lust.  I
continued ramming my cock into the front man's mouth.  He gagged as I
pressed against the start of his throat.  I didn't care.  I needed another
orgasm now and I was getting so close.

`Enough,' said the guy at the back and they both stopped.  Disappointed,
but driven by raw sexual need, I began shamelessly stroking my member
vigorously.  They grabbed my hands and one said, `Erect, yes, but you are
not to cum without Jack's permission.  So for about half an hour I stood in
front of two strangers sipping my lager.  Every time my cock began to
droop, one or other of them would stroke or suck it to restore my erection,
but, no matter how much I pleaded and begged them, I was not permitted to
cum.

At long last, I saw Jack at the door.  I smiled with relief and lust for
this man who had forced me to depths that I had not considered possible.
`I see you are still having fun.  I'm sorry to interrupt, but you must come
inside now and get ready for the beach.'

Once inside the bar again, Jack stood me in the middle of the room in full
view of the customers.  I attempted to cover my erection with my hands, but
he struck them aside.  `Hands behind your head.  These gentlemen want to
enjoy this.'

Jack had brought a backpack from the car.  He placed it on the table and
unzipped it.  Inside I could see my flip-flops and that revealing outfit he
had dressed me in this morning.  The relief I felt at that moment was
short-lived.

Smiling, Jack said, `I know you weren't happy wearing these shorts and
t-shirt when we walked here, so I thought you would like to wrap yourself
in a towel.'

I imagined this towel as an extra to my shorts and t-shirt, but I was
wrong.  Stuffing my shorts and t-shirt back in his bag, he handed me a
small towel which I tried to wrap round my waist.  It was too small to tie.
I had to hold the corners at my right hip to keep my groin and arse
covered, but my right thigh was exposed even when I was standing still.

`But – but – but,' I stuttered.  Jack's smile merely became broader
as he handed me my flip-flops.

`Right.  Off we go,' he said and with that he led me to the door.

The long walk to the beach was beyond description.  As I walked along, my
right thigh was continually exposed and anyone could see that I was totally
naked under that brief towel covering.  The exhibition I was making of
myself ensured that, through the embarrassment and shame, my erection grew
to prominence.  There I was, semi-naked, sexually aroused walking though
busy street filled with holiday-makers and shoppers.  At times, the people
pressed so close that the towel got lifted up to reveal my erection.  It
was only with great difficulty that I managed to pull it back over my cock
using only my left hand.

It was with a feeling of relief that I reached the promenade.  Jack had
said that there was a nude bathing area on the beach and I thought that
that would afford me some slight comfort.  Little did I know how wrong I
was.

(c) simonalone48@yahoo.co.uk