Date: Tue, 29 Aug 2023 20:38:13 -0700 From: Harry Subject: Rugby World Cup 3 CHAPTER 3 At the outset I must make the disclaimer that this story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of these rugby union players or any personal knowledge about their private lives. I hope it gives some sustenance to readers during the World Cup. Look forward to your comments. Please give generously to support Nifty. -- `Care! Smithy! We're waiting for you! What the fuck are you two doing?!' Marcus and Danny froze, the pre from Marcus's cock stretching to Danny's lips as he pulled back, as they looked in panic at each other. The interruption had brought them back to reality from their frenzy pretty dramatically. `Fuck!', said Marcus, `what are we going to do?' `Stay here'. Danny got up off his knees wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grabbed a towel to cover his unmistakeable erection and left the bathroom, leaving Marcus looking totally panicked. His cock still rock hard, Marcus had gone from this strange seventh heaven to abject fear, worrying about what would happen if they were discovered but also still freaked out at a deeper level about what had developed between them in a space of two hours. He had never thought of himself as gay and, only moments ago he had had his childhood hero's mouth around his cock; been fed his own cum by him; and seen Danny lap up with a kind of animal hunger Marcus's own. They had always been close but this afternoon something else had been released, much deeper, but also utterly right -- fuck, did it feel right -- but Marcus knew that the rest of the team wouldn't see it that way, nor their respective partners. Danny was not about to lose the moment either, but equally he was aware that he was going to the door with a rock-hard cock straining with desperation, he was breathing heavily, and his chest was glowing with fresh sweat and his face flush. He shut the door of the bathroom, glancing at Marcus with determination as he did so, carried the towel discreetly in front of his groin and went to the door of the suite. He could barely make sense of what had just happened let alone what now faced him. He took a deep breath and opened the door. There in front of him was Tom Curry, suited and booted, looking frustrated. `Mate, what the fuck? You were meant to be downstairs twenty minutes ago. What are you two doing?' Danny, trying not to be flustered, `Oh, fuck me! I must have got the times wrong. Was it 5? Mate, fuck.' `Where's Marcus?', asked Tom. `Uh, um, still in the bathroom. He's, um, taking ages in there actually.' Tom noticed an air of stress, and how Danny's taut, broad chest glistened. Had he come from the shower or did he need one? Why was he carrying a towel? Tom looked down and saw, on the side of Danny's trousers, a smear of something. Was that what he thought it was? The whole thing had the air of catching someone in the dorm mid-jacking off as he had done (and been himself caught) at Oundle or, as on multiple occasions, when he'd caught his twin brother doing the same when they were teenagers (and once more recently on a family holiday together, in fact). There was something shifty, but he wouldn't have expected this of Danny Care, who as a kind of statesman of the team was surely above antics like that. `Huh', said Tom. `Well, we need to go. Borthwick's going to lose his shit otherwise.' `Yeah, yeah, sure Tom', replied Danny, still flustered. `You've got something on your chin, by the way', said Tom. Fuck, thought Danny, quickly moving his right hand to his face, to wipe away what he knew would have been some of the bountiful precum that Marcus had smeared across his face moments previously. As he did so with the towel, Tom couldn't help but catch sight of the engorged groin and the extended dried smear across the trousers. There was also the smell of sex about him. Did he have a woman in there? Playing away from Jodie with some Irish tart or fan? That wouldn't explain what he suspected was the same substance from his trousers on Danny's face, but Tom thought about one of his own girlfriends who'd been keen on coming in for a kiss after taking one of his loads -- something that always turned him on massively, to be honest, as she forced him to taste himself, a strange mixture of feeling empowered and humiliated. Tom grinned, not least as he remembered those encounters, his own cock stirring at the memory. `Well, you better get a shirt on, my man. Tell that fucker, if he's there,' (he paused for effect at this point, looking knowingly at Danny to see whether he could tease out the situation), `to get a fucking move on and stop applying the moisturiser on his pretty face'. `Ha, yeah', replied Danny nervously, `I'll get him to get out of there, won't I my little bitch!' (raising his voice to be heard, the mockery mingling with the reality for those with ears to hear). `Yeah, yeah I'm coming!', shouted Marcus from the bathroom (Danny's thoughts immediately going elsewhere with that phrase). `Well, see you shortly then,' said Danny, looking up again at the now perplexed face of Tom. `Yeah, see you down there', said Tom as Danny shut the door. Tom stood there, still looking at the door and pondering what he'd just seen. There'd always been a closeness between those two, but not that, surely? Danny had been like an older brother to Marcus, and both as straight as a die, surely? Tom didn't care, of course, if there was something going on; but that would be quite the turn-up in an England team not known for being replete with cocksuckers (though he'd heard the rumours about James Haskell demanding it from unsuspecting freshers when they'd downed too many pints on tour). But both Marcus and Danny seemed pretty obsessed with their women. He cast the idea from his mind. Perhaps Danny had been caught mid-jacking off and somehow spattered himself in the face before opening the door to him, thought Tom. That was quite the image. Curry shook his head and walked down the corridor, discombobulated. Danny breathed a sigh of relief, catching sight of himself in the mirror on the back of the door. What the fuck was happening to him? He needed to get a grip; he sensed Tom had suspected something, the way he looked at him just then. He noticed how hard his nipples were. I probably would have wondered myself, thought Danny, as he absentmindedly rubbed his crotch and trying to rub off the relics of Marcus's cum on his trousers with his saliva. They couldn't stay up here any longer without it being noticed. He walked towards the door, wondering how to untangle the past ten minutes. As he opened it, he encountered Marcus still leaning on the sink, stroking his now semi-flaccid cock, coyly looking at him. `That all got a bit crazy, hey?', he said, nervously. `Fuck me, it did', sighed Danny, his eyes still drawn down to the handsome schlong, trying to make sense of the fact that he'd had it in his mouth only a few minutes ago. `Look, we almost got rumbled. We need to get downstairs before they start asking any more questions'. The sense of a conspiracy in the words reassured Marcus that what had happened was not about to be forgotten or perhaps that it had not conclusively been brought to an end. `Yeah, fuck. I guess so'. Danny picked up Marcus's Versaces, wanting to take in the aroma if he were honest, and walked them over to him. They held each other's gaze, both breathing deeply. `But we have unfinished business', said Danny, his hand reaching out to stroke Marcus's hair, the air still almost electrified by the current between them. Marcus closed his eyes, as Danny moved into a slow kiss this time, his tongue entering deeply and slowly into Marcus's mouth. `I can't wait until later,' Danny whispered. `Just as well we seem to have been given a king-size bed by accident'. `No accident, Daddy', said Marcus, grinning. `That's my boy', said Danny, grabbing Marcus's cock (now hard again), `save it for later'. Giving it a squeeze with one hand, he pushed the briefs into Marcus' face to make him smell them, dropped them to the floor and turned back, leaving Marcus looking at that fantastic arse moving seductively out the bathroom; Marcus lost in a daze at the sight and the hunger to put his face in between those cheeks. Something was unlocked; but Danny's powerplay, leaving him waiting until the evening, had its own erotic thrill. Marcus turned back to the mirror, put his hand through his hair, pulled up the briefs over his hard cock, pushed awkwardly up his left thigh, smiling at himself in his reflection and seeing Danny, in the background, putting a crisp white tailored shirt over that broad back. As he came towards the bathroom, Danny threw on his jacket, came back up to Marcus at the door of the bathroom, pulled him into him, his hand gripping his arse. `Let me go down first -- we don't need to increase suspicion from Curry'. `Maybe Curry wants to be suspicious, Daddy', Marcus said with a grin. `Imagine that', said Danny, bringing his face closer to him. `I've got enough to think about imagining what I'm going to do to this arse in a few hours', he said, giving it a squeeze, the finger (with his wedding ring on) stretching down, its tip rubbing past Marcus's hole. Marcus could barely breathe. After a brief kiss, the tongues playing again, Danny slapped Marcus's arse hard, readjusted his own package, and with a smile, moved off towards the door. `Why don't you wear my underwear from earlier,' he said: `I like the thought of my sweat surrounding those balls during dinner. And don't hang about.' Marcus grinned, as Danny opened the door, walking out. Marcus went straight to Danny's bag on their bed, now desperately on edge, picked up Danny's Union-flag budgie-smugglers from the game and, bringing them to his face, inhaled deeply the smell of musk and sweat. His cock still rock hard (and wondering how it was going to go down wearing these), he whipped off his Versaces and got into Danny's pair, looking at himself admiringly wearing the snug briefs and thinking of Danny ripping them off later. Rapidly putting on his trousers, shirt and jacket, he threw on his jacket and tie, put his hand through his hair and sprayed on some of Danny's cologne. Let's get through this as quickly as thought, he thought, as he readjusted his cock and balls, packed tightly into Danny's briefs, and he shut the door behind him. * When Marcus came into the dining room, a roar went up and all the men stood up and started applauding in mockery at this late arrival. Classic, he thought. Just when I could do without this. Still, it provided a common joke for both teams and took his own team's mind off its failure on the pitch. He shook his head as they jeered him, ran his hands through his hair and moved towards his space, in between Curry and the Irish winger Calvin Nash. He guessed that was why Curry had been sent up to find him and Danny. `Styling your hair, were you?', said Tom, with a grin that made Marcus immediately worry he was digging for information. `Ha, something like that,' Marcus replied, eagerly scanning the table for Danny, who was at the other end, on the opposite side, clearly in the middle of telling a joke to Jonny Sexton. Danny's eyes suddenly moved to him, their glances locking as Danny carried on talking. Marcus grinned at him and Danny winked by way of reply. As Marcus sat there, he still tasted the bitterness of his own jizz in his mouth, and was instantly hard thinking about Danny feeding it to him. What he wouldn't give for him to feed it to him over dinner now, he mused to himself in a kind of daze, before being interrupted by Henry Arundell across the table from him (who had clearly had a few already): `Managed to find that pussy, did you, mate?', Henry asked. `Uh, what?', said Marcus, Tom next to him also intrigued by the comment. `Marky-boy's not been playing away from Beth, has he?', Tom asked. `He certainly needed to, judging from the tent in his underwear earlier in the changing room with Danny', replied Arundell with a smirk. Marcus blushed but hit back, `at least I've got something to show for it, eh, Hazzer', who laughed by way of reply, Calvin also taking interest in the England cock-based banter. But Tom, putting together the two scenes of Marcus earlier and Danny at the door before dinner, wondered whether he wasn't mad to think that there was actually something going on between them. `So you and Danny sharing that king-size bed then', said Tom. Marcus immediately gulped, not least as the thought of what they'd be doing later on that bed. `Uh, yeah, I need to ask us to be changed to a twin, I guess'. `Nah, they've fucked up loads of our bookings and they're fully booked,' replied Henry, `I've got to cuddle up with this one', pointing to his right at George Ford, who was deep in conversation with Owen Farrell -- clearly anxiously reviewing the red card earlier. `At least he's small', said Marcus nervously, now slightly turned on by the thought of the two of them spooning. Tom, though, was still keen to find out whether he'd caught them earlier in the middle of something more than getting ready. Tom was surprised to feel his own cock twitching at the thought of what he would have thought was somehow taboo -- the well-known Harlequins bromance between the two of them crossing the line into something explicitly sexual. Marcus was hot as fuck, of course- the poster-boy of both Quins and England - and Tom's mind wandered to the thought of Marcus being fucked by Danny, the older man's tremendous thighs thrusting up against the young, smooth arse. `Fuck, there must be something in the air', thought Tom to himself, reaching down to readjust his own cock beneath the table and looking across at Danny, who now met with Tom's eyes anxiously before nodding at him. `What have I stumbled into?', Tom thought as he reached for his pint. Dinner proceeded as normal, the dining room increasingly rowdier as the Irish clearly enjoying themselves as the Guinness flowed and the England team also loosened up a bit. Marcus had had several pints and, having not eaten much (his appetite being very much elsewhere at this point), the chat was getting pretty lively with Calvin on his left -- who, a few years younger than Marcus, had just moved up into the Irish squad and whose perfect smile was clearly going to break a few hearts along the way. On his right, though, he could feel greater warmth under the table; was a (now pretty drunk) Tom deliberately pressing his leg against his? The contact was making him hunger again for the sex that had been denied him earlier and he looked across again (for what must have been like the eighth time that night) at Danny who this time, after drinking from the Guinness, looked him in the eye and slowly and deliberately moved the froth from the pint across his lips -- a direct reference to his precum earlier that immediately had Marcus's cock standing to attention. `Fuck, I need that', Marcus unconsciously whispered to himself. `Need what, buddy?', said Tom, who'd clearly heard him and was now looking at him, his focus clearly struggling with the alcohol inside him but with a broad grin on his face. `Do you need that sorted?', Tom asked, pointing down at the clear indentation in Marcus's already pretty tight suit trousers. `It seems like something's, or someone's, really riled you up today, mate', he drunkenly said, as his left hand ran up Marcus's thigh. `What the fuck was going on?', thought Marcus. `Have I become fair game for everyone?' He moved the thought from his mind, remembering that they were all pretty handsy with each other and it meant little, despite what distinctly looked like animal lust in Tom's eyes. `Yeah, I think it's the week without sex with Beth. I'm perpetually randy', Marcus half-lied. Maybe that was it? Maybe the starvation of sex compelled by the squad's training had led to all this. `Fuck, I know', said Curry. `It drives you in some crazy directions, doesn't it?', he said, his large hand still discreetly sliding up and down Marcus's thigh, his little finger grazing his balls accidentally. Marcus gulped. He was so randy that it wouldn't take much at this point to explode his pent-up jizz there and then into Danny's budgies. Tom was fucking hot and now, this man whom you'd have thought was as straight as they come, seemed to be coming onto him under the table. He imagined momentarily being spit-roasted by both of the Curry twins, a thought that seemed to come from nowhere but was insanely arousing, before they were interrupted by hands on both of their shoulders. `What are you two talking about, eh?'. Danny had reappeared and was looming over the two of them, clearly also half-cut and with that grin on his face. `What's it to you, Daddy -- ur I mean, Danny?' Marcus drawled, realising too late his mistake but his words not unnoticed by Tom. `Everyone's favourite Daddy, eh?', Tom laughed as Danny smiled broadly, and preened at the comment. `Damn right - everyone's favourite DILF', replied Danny, laughing, trying to defuse Marcus's clear embarrassment at the sex-talk spilling into their table chat. Calvin was trying to make sense of the charged nature of the conversation -- was the England team always like this? `My girlfriend's obsessed with you, actually', the Irishman said, looking up at the veteran rugby-player. Danny looked at the chiselled jaw of the twenty-year old and imagined sharing him with the girlfriend: `is she indeed? You must introduce her to Daddy Danny', Danny drunkenly said to him, his hands still massaging the shoulders of Marcus and Tom. Calvin and the others laughed and, and he was about to make a further riposte before Danny interjected, "Right boys, Daddy's very tired and going up.' The constant reference to himself as Daddy was a bit weird, thought Calvin, but Marcus smiled. Tom looked at Marcus, trying to judge further what the fuck was going on between the two roommates. `I look forward to seeing you all bright and fresh at the airport tomorrow then', said Danny. `Nice to meet you, mate', said Danny to Calvin, `and good luck with your first world cup'. He lightly slapped Marcus and Tom across the back of their heads and walked off to the lobby, that arse looking utterly inviting again to Marcus as he gazed at the stud walking out. `He's got a nice arse, don't he', said Tommy, eyeing Marcus's lingering fascination. Marcus stuttered, `um, what? What, yeah, I guess so. The gift of the scrum half, eh.' Marcus couldn't quite tell whether Tom was trying to out them both or trying to get off with him himself. `Listen, mate, I'm pretty tired myself. I think I'm going to go up.' `Sure', said Tom, `duty calls, right? Was he referring to the more disciplined lifestyle Borthwick was pressing upon them or Danny? Marcus wasn't here for playing games any more. `Yeah, I'm knackered after today. Not sure I can cope with much more of the Ireland team's partying either, to be honest -- no offence, Nash', he said, glancing at Calvin. Marcus got up, acutely aware that his budgie-smugglers -- now pretty wet after the sexual tension of the past two hours -- were straining. His crotch at the eyeline now of Curry, who gazed in his drunkenness lustfully at the full groin in front of him. Marcus caught his eye, and said quietly, `you and Ben should come round to mine for drinks when we're down in Brighton again, Tom', holding his eyes for just slightly long enough to give Tom pause to wonder what was implied by the invitation. `Er, sure yeah, that sounds good. Will that fit girlfriend of yours be there?', asked Tom. `She could be,' said Marcus (were they both having the same thoughts now?), `or it could just be us. You decide.' Marcus wasn't sure whether his now seemingly blatant suggestion of a threesome of foursome with the twins was heard, but he enjoyed Tom's discomfort and the reversal of power, playing upon the fact Tom had just had his hand in his groin. The boundaries were all pretty blurred at this point. `Right, see you later. Nice to meet you, Calvin.' `Yeah, likewise, mate. Sleep well.' Marcus looked at Tom once more, who was clearly in a drunken daze trying to make out the nature of his own desires as much as the possibility that the boy-wonder Smith might be queer and had just invited him to fuck with him Ben. Smithy turned around and headed towards the stairs, deliberately holding his own jacket so Tom could look at his own arse, tightly filling the suit trousers. As soon as he was out of the dining room, he headed quickly towards the lift. He couldn't wait any longer to have his cock back in Danny's mouth. * As the lift door opened, Marcus skipped out, feeling his cock growing, the precum now smeared across his thighs and balls (ready for Danny to lick off, he thought). He got to the door, unlocked it with the card, and walked in hungrily. The sight before him didn't disappoint. Danny was lying propped up on the bed, his top off, his chest and torso looking fucking amazing, but still in his trousers but now with his rock-hard eight-inch cock out and being stroked seductively. `What kept you, little bro?' `Tom Curry being a dick, but also weirdly seductive', Marcus replied. `Hmmm...maybe he's onto us', pondered Danny. `I'd like him to be on me, that's for sure,' said Marcus, as he rapidly undid his tie, kicked off his shoes and walked towards the bed. `Suck this. Now', said Danny. `I don't need to be asked twice, Daddy', Marcus replied, leaping onto the bed, ripping off his own shirt as he did so, his nipples rock hard, his cock evidently straining through his trousers and seeking release. He'd never felt so randy. `Give it to me,' he said, as with both hands he took Danny's lengthy tool and looking up at Danny, slowly took his tongue to the foreskin, which he pulled back to reveal what could only be considered a reservoir of precum. Danny was clearly very worked up and Marcus fucking loved it. He moved the tip of the cock across his lips, the pre creating a kind of film across his mouth that tasted fucking amazing, the quantity leading to it drooling from his lips. Danny's eyes closed in ecstasy, as he groaned and uttered, `Oh, little bro, little bro...'. With his eyes still closed, Marcus moved up to Danny's mouth and planted a kiss, the precum mingling with their saliva creating a kind of frenzy between them as Marcus's hand stayed on the beautiful cock, precum now also smeared across Marcus's trousers. `Get back to it, you little cumslut', said Danny, smacking his cheek again and grinning at him. Marcus didn't need encouragement. He pushed back his hair and now took Danny's entire schlong slowly and deeply into this throat. This entirely new experience was totally thrilling, yet also unnerving as he tried to manage the gag reflex as he took Danny's length. `Fuck me', groaned Danny, `that's my boy'. Marcus began to move up and down, his tongue moving instinctively across the foreskin and head, sending shivers up Danny's spine. `You're a pro at this, clearly born for it', uttered Danny. `You taste so fucking amazing, Daddy', said Marcus as he drew breath, his other hand reaching down to undo his own flies, desperate to grab his own cock. `Don't work yourself up too much; I need that cock for later', said Danny, pushing Marcus's head back down on his cock as Marcus tasted more and more precum coming through, the sweetness giving way to the salty as Danny got more and more worked up. They both groaned but Danny was keen not to reach his orgasm too soon; he had plenty of other ideas but first of all wanted to be totally naked with his little bro. `Get out of those', ordered Danny, pointing at his trousers. `We better hope there's dry cleaning', he laughed, seeing the white marks smeared across Marcus's groin, matching the cum-stains left by Marcus on Danny's earlier. What a fucking mess. Marcus quickly pulled down his trousers, revealing Danny's underwear. `Ah yes, I'd almost forgotten about those. They suit you very well', said Danny who, now naked himself (his Calvins quickly discarded onto the pillow behind him), moved to pull down his own underwear on his little bro, only to have Marcus's cock spring up, hitting him in the face as he pulled them down. `Woah, down boy!', he said, the pre spattering across his cheek. Before he started working on Smithy, however, Danny picked up his budgy smugglers and, looking down at the sticky reservoir Marcus had created held it up to the boy's face. "Clean them up and lick it out", Danny ordered, pushing the pouch towards Marcus's face. Marcus inhaled deeply, the smell of cum and Danny's sweat from the game driving him totally wild. His tongue got to work quickly, Danny enjoying the sight hugely as he brought their cocks together as Marcus continued to lick up his pre with a hungry abandon. The feeling of their burning hot cocks sliding up against each other was phenomenal to them both and Danny moved down to lick Smithy's nipple as Marcus continued to work on the budgie-smugglers in Danny's other hand, giving out a guttural noise as he did so. It felt fucking amazing to Marcus. How could Danny have never done this before, thought Marcus to himself, as Danny's tongue addressed itself to Marcus's nipple. `Turn around, bitch', said Danny, a look of raging lust in his eyes now, their collective pre slathering their cocks. Marcus had never been fucked, of course (though had recently suggested pegging to Beth in a drunken moment), but wasn't sure whether he was ready for Danny inside him, as much as he wanted it. He obediently turned around on the bed, however, as Danny slapped his right cheek. `My little bro, what do we have here', inspecting the smooth arse and tight hole; `So fucking beautiful.' Danny had long enjoyed anal, but not with a bloke, of course. He rubbed his hands up Marcus's back and brought his wet cock down to stroke against Marcus's ring. Marcus sighed; the feeling was incredible, even as he feared what was coming next. But rather than penetration, Marcus felt Danny pulled back and instead buried his tongue deep into his cheeks, his stubble rubbing deep in between his crack as he worked with devotion the lad's pink hole. Marcus had never felt anything so amazing, nor had Danny ever imagined this could taste so good. `Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, that's amazing, don't stop', uttered Marcus semi-delirious as Danny's tongue probed, the scrum-half grunting with pleasure as with his free hands he massaged Marcus's significant girth and stroked his own eight inches. `You taste fucking amazing; I could eat you out all day', said Danny, drawing up for breath. `Oh Daddy, I want it. I love it. Don't stop.' `You're mine, little bro; you're mine tonight, tomorrow and until I say you're not.' `Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me now. I want you inside me.' `You want your big bro's cock in you, do you? You want to feel Daddy Danny balls-deep inside his little boy?' `Fuck, yes. I want it Daddy'. Danny positioned himself behind the arse which Marcus pushed back against him, allowing Danny to slap his cock against the crack. `How does that feel, Smithy?', he said, as he used his now practically effluent precum to lubricate the hole, his finger teasing it, opening it up -- with spit, two more fingers. `Yeah, you like that don't you, little bro.' `Fuck, yes, fuck', gasped Marcus, barely able to breathe, though he knew he'd need to not get so wound up and relax. `Are you ready for Daddy?' `Yes, give it to me Daddy.' Danny slowly pushed in his tip, allowing Marcus to open gently. `Breathe, my boy'. `Oh yes, oh yes, yes, ugh', Marcus exclaimed as, slowly, slowly, the wet hole took all of Danny in, all the while Marcus groaning, taking the pillow to his mouth to prevent him shouting out in response to this incredible mixture of pain and ecstasy: `Fuuuuuck, Daddy'. He'd never felt anything like it. The agony was real, but also the exhilirating sense of this hot rod inside him. Danny, inside him. He couldn't believe it. `Oh God, Danny, please, oh' `You be a good boy and take it all', Danny said, slapping his right cheek again (now a distinct red) and continuing to push inside him until his fat, shaved balls drew up against Marcus's own. `Fuck that's something else,' said Marcus, still absorbing the size and pain, but also adjusting and receiving the length: `O God, Danny, fuck me, fuck that's so good'. `Yeah, you like Daddy inside you don't you?' `Yes, Daddy, yes, yes!' He could barely breathe but focussed to take in the breaths as he lifted his torso and gently pushed back against Danny. `Ugh, yes, good boy', said Danny. `You're a good bottom for your Daddy, aren't you'. `Yes, Daddy, I want to be a good boy for you.' `You better fucking be, because there's one hell of a ride coming for you.' `O fuck!', exclaimed Marcus, as Danny drew back and began, slowly, and then with more regularity drawing in and out of him, Marcus occasionally squealing as he took it all in. He'd gone flaccid with the pain initially but, now, catching sight of Danny fucking him in the wardrobe mirror, he was massively turned on. What had been unimaginable at lunchtime now felt fucking incredible, and somehow the fulfilment of their friendship in a way he could never had expected was the most sensual experience he'd had in his life. `Danny, keep going. Fuck, fuck, I can take it.' `You're my good little bro, aren't you', said Danny, slapping his arse hard again, Marcus giving a guttural cry as he felt the force inside and out. `My good little boy', said Danny, as he too caught sight of the beauty that was Marcus receiving him, both arses looking fucking fantastic and Marcus's clearly made to take him. `Oh God, Smithy. O God, Smithy, you're so fucking beautiful. My good boy'. He lent in now, grabbed him around the chest with his massive arms and brought him up to give him a deep kiss, still deep inside him. `I never knew I had wanted this so much,' Danny whispered in his ear, their sweat now covering them, their hair damp. Marcus couldn't believe the feeling of Danny's balls slapping against his, the force of the cock deep inside him, the sense of being owned by the man he'd come to love as a brother and now, tonight, as his incredible lover. He grabbed his own cock, which was leaking madly and started to stroke it as Danny ploughed into him. `Don't. Not yet', said Danny, `I need that later', pulling back Marcus's hands and tying them both behind his back as Danny kept thrusting. `Oh my God, this feels so fucking good. You want Danny's cream inside you, my boy. Do you want it?' `Yes, Daddy, breed me. Breed me, Daddy.' Danny, drenched in sweat, could feel the climax coming. Catching sight again of his muscle-bound body deep inside the beauty that was Marcus, he couldn't help himself. `Fuuuuuuccck!', he cried out, as thrust for a final time into Marcus, shooting what felt like twenty shots of cum deep into the lad as Marcus groaned in pure ecstasy. `Fuck, fuck, fuck, ugghhhh', uttered Danny, as he slowly withdrew his cock, only to see what looked like a stream of cum beginning to follow from Marcus's hole. Marcus was barely able to speak, having never been through anything like that in his life. But he wasn't prepared -- he certainly did not expect -- Danny's tongue to return, as it did, to consume his own cum from his hole. `You filthy cum slut, Daddy', Marcus laughed. `Fuck, yes, that feels so fucking good', as he began to stroke his own cock again and Danny grunted with delight taking in the smell of raw sex and flesh combining with the salty goodness of his own cum. He took the final load, but didn't swallow, flipped Marcus on his back and, sitting astride him, moved into kiss his boy. Marcus looked deeply into his eyes, lost in wonder at what had just happened, and then, as he opened his mouth to receive Danny's kiss, realised what he had in store for him: a large dose of Danny's own cum which they swilled around their mouths, all the while Danny bringing their cocks together again, the cum lubricating Marcus's own. The snowballing sent Marcus into over-drive and he reached for his own cock. Again, Danny slapped his hand out the way. `That's mine. Always mine', said Danny, as he began slowly to stroke it, continuing to kiss and share the remains of his thick load in Marcus's mouth. This was fucking insane and Marcus had never been so turned on. It seemed like barely thirty seconds before the combination of Danny's cum and his expert wanking before Marcus felt himself drawing near. `Danny, I'm close. I'm close.' Like a flash, Danny moved down and took the cock back into his mouth, again his tongue ranging across the slit like a pro and looking at Marcus in the eyes as he did so. That was it, he could hold it back no longer; Marcus gave a deep, guttural cry as he began to shoot. How many loads he didn't know but Danny remain glued, swallowing it all, his eyes closed, deliriously lost with the young stud's cream filling his mouth and stomach fulsomely. Marcus's whole body seemed to erupt and shake but it wasn't long before Danny was licking up what was left, seeming to take it like an absolute pro. `Like downing a yard of ale that, my little bro,' said Danny, grinning at him while still stroking Marcus's cock, some cum still dribbling down from his lip. `It fucking felt like that much', laughed Marcus, taking the cum from Danny's lip and taking it back to his own mouth. Danny moved back up to Marcus's face and now, tenderly, drew him in. `I know I'm drunk, I know today has been insane, but -- fuck me -- that was some of the best sex I've ever had.' Marcus kissed him deeply again before saying, `I've never felt anything like it. You're fucking incredible, Danny.' `That's Daddy to you', he replied, grabbing his cock again as though he owned it, before going in for a deeper kiss, their tongues playing again as their hands explored each other, grabbed their arses, played with Marcus's stretched hole. They paused for breath. `You'd better put the sign on the door if we don't want someone walking in tomorrow morning,' whispered Marcus. `Good point, we've got several hours more of this before we have to get up, for sure. I don't think housekeeping could cope,' said Danny. Although, to be frank, the cum-spattered mirrors, bed sheets, cum-smeared underwear and the smell of raw sex throughout the room didn't leave much to the imagination for the housekeeping staff, thought Marcus. Danny jumped off the bed, his balls hanging low slapping against those massive thighs as his dripping cock swung round also. As he quickly opened the door, however, a weight immediately fell upon him. `Fuck!' cried Tom Curry, who'd clearly been up against the door listening and now had fallen straight into the room onto the naked body of Danny. `Fuck!,' cried Marcus, as he saw the bulk that was Curry stumbling across the room onto Danny, red-faced, but with his cock out of his trousers now pressed up against Danny, taking in the scene before him and looking both embarrassed and, judging from the swelling cock, incredibly aroused. `Tommy boy', said Danny as Tom levered himself up in drunken horror. `Someone was listening wasn't he? Were you wanking at the sound of us fucking? I always thought you might be a grade-A faggot.' `Ha, um, well what can I say?', muttered Tom, his face puce-red, his cock still erect standing before them both in what seemed to be an otherwise pretty skin-tight shirt and trousers, highlighting his rock-hard body. `You don't need to say anything, bro', said Marcus, grinning. `You just need us to relieve you of that hard-on. Danny here has probably had his fill from me, but I still need a night-cap". Tom, stood up, taller now, grabbed his cock and walked towards the bed, Danny drawing up behind him, his hand on his ample arse, guiding him to the England poster-boy for his bedtime milking. * To be continued