Date: Fri, 29 May 2015 09:06:13 +0000 (UTC)
From: Robert Furlong <robert.furlong@rocketmail.com>
Subject: Game Boy Part 2

GAME BOY PART 2
by Robert Furlong
robert.furlong@rocketmail.com
robertfurlong.tumblr.com

===

The little office was cramped and cluttered, and the tall ginger youth who
seemed to be in charge had to move a few boxes of disposable coffee cups
aside before he could shut the door.

Once we were alone I could tell how nervous he was: he'd clearly never had
to deal with a problem like me on one of his shifts.  His name badge
announced that he was called Elliot and was today's duty manager.  I'd only
noticed one other employee working in the cafe – a spotty lank-haired
girl who looked like she'd just crawled out from a well on someone's TV –
so I figured he must be managing her.

He said, with his voice faltering like an adolescent's, "If it was drugs
you guys were doing in there, I'd have already called the police."

I nodded and smiled pleasantly at him.  "Lucky we weren't then."

"It's a coffee shop bathroom," he went on.  "You can't just do the stuff
you were doing in a public place like that."

"It's hardly a public place," I countered.  "It's private enough for people
to defecate in it, so it has to be private enough for what we were doing."

"It's in the middle of the cafe," he argued back.  "Little kids could be
running in."

"The door was locked," I asserted.  "Or at least it was until you unlocked
it with your master key.  I should point out that it was you, Elliot, who
opened it and allowed any little kids who were running about to see what we
were doing."

He blushed at that and then, realising I had the upper hand by having read
his name badge, stuttered, "Wha... what's... er... your name?"

"Robert," I smirked.  "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I'd had a complaint from a couple of customers who'd seen you both going
in there," he argued.  "I think it was reasonable for me to unlock the door
to the toilet."

"You could have warned us by knocking," I quipped cheerfully.  "I'm no
expert in the law but isn't illegal for a person to deliberately expose the
public to a sexual act?  I suppose the police will know about that, when
you call them, that is..."

He flushed more deeply and muttered, "Look, I don't want to have to involve
anyone else in this."  His body language betrayed how uncomfortable he was
feeling; I noticed a thin film of sweat forming on his forehead.

"You said you had your policies to follow," I reminded him.

"Well... er... yes... I did," he stammered, and then remembering something
from his training and hoping to diffuse a problem for which he was clearly
feeling at least partly to blame, added, "but we also have anti-homophobia
policies and I wouldn't want to... you know... tread on any of those."

I was about to continue toying with him by telling him that we were okay on
that score since I don't label myself as gay, when suddenly his
greasy-haired colleague poked her head around the office door and asked her
duty manager when he'd be coming out to help her deal with the queue.

"I can't come now!" he snapped.  "Can't you see, I'm interrogating this
guy?!"

She threw him a weary look of exasperation and then disappeared off again,
closing the office door behind her.

"Why would you do something like that in a cafe toilet?" he asked, perhaps
trying to reassert his authority and get his 'interrogation' off to a more
promising start.

"Something like what?" I asked, wondering if he'd seen me with my face
planted firmly in my brief acquaintance's backside.

"Something like what the two of you were doing," he said, as if unable to
elaborate on the shocking sight he'd witnessed.

"Okay," I said, remaining warm and cordial.  "I was about to do a favour
for the young man who you saw make such a hasty exit.  So in return he was
doing a favour for me."

"What favour were you going to do for him?" he asked.

"A favour that was very much between him and me," I returned.

He nodded and hesitated before suggesting, "So let's say I just drop all
this, Robert."

I smiled even though I couldn't really see what other option he had.

He tensed up and looked uncomfortable again as he added, almost like he was
forcing himself to, "But if I do drop it, that means I'm doing a favour for
you, doesn't it?"

I nodded.  "I suppose it does, yes."

"So... what do you think you could... er... do for me?"

"What could I do for you?" I chirped.  This was suddenly turning out more
interesting than I could have hoped.

I'd been wishing I'd followed Curtis out of the bathroom, pushing past the
gawky duty manager and following my young conspirator across to HMV, so I
could have bought him the game I'd promised him.  I might not have achieved
exactly what I'd hoped to when I'd had my face pressed into his odorous
butt, but since he'd given me his anilingual virginity, if I can call it
that, I felt it was only fair that I repaid him in full.

But now I suddenly understood why Elliot had appeared so tense.  There was
a good deal more in this for him than just giving some pervert he'd caught
in flagrante in the cafe bogs a stern telling off.

"Yeah," he nodded, trying to seem like he was the one in control.  "Like
you and your... er... friend in the loo... doing favours is a two-way
thing, isn't it?"

He would sound a lot more convincing, I thought, if he was saying all this
with a confident sneer and forcing a more assured cockiness from his body
language.  As it was, though, he was making it obvious that he was out of
his league, with his bunny-in-the-headlights stare and an involuntary
fidgetiness that was becoming quite distracting.

"What do you mean, Elliot?" I asked, hoping that some of my relaxed
composure might rub off onto him.

"I just mean," he said, swallowing with a noisy gulp, "that if I don't call
the cops... that maybe... you could do something for me in return...?"

"Okay," I smiled.  "That sounds entirely reasonable.  What would you like
me to do?"

If he was thinking of getting me to clean the coffee-making machine, I'd do
the runner I perhaps should have done when the young man calling himself
Curtis had legged it from the cafe.

But fortunately his intentions were far less honourable.

"I want you to do to me what you were doing to that other dude when I
opened the door of the toilet," he said, managing to get it all out without
stuttering this time.

I looked him up and down.  He was quite attractive in his way.  He was tall
and slim but a little geeky and obviously very shy – not that those last
two counted as firm negatives, but rather as contrasts to his positives –
and in his coffee shop uniform and with his ginger hair gelled into a quiff
he came across as somebody one wouldn't immediately say 'no' to.

So I didn't say 'no' but instead said, "And what was I doing to that other
... er... dude?"

"Sucking his knob," he replied with misplaced certainty.  It seemed that my
companion had already swivelled around as he hitched his trousers up by the
time Elliot had seen him.

"Actually, I wasn't," I grinned.  "I was rimming his arse."

He faltered at that, suddenly unsure of what my motives with him might be.
"What does that mean?  I didn't see you guys doing anything... er... too
full-on..."

"It means I was licking around the muscular ring of his anus."

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes tending towards disbelief
without him being able to shake off the conviction that I was telling the
truth, before saying, "Okay, so I'm not really interested in that.  I just
want you to suck my cock."

He stared at my face intently, perhaps expecting revulsion, but I just
stared back impassively and he thought it prudent to correct himself.  "I
mean, it's not that I want you to.  Well, not you specifically.  I just
want a mouth around my knob... but obviously I'd prefer it if it was a girl
who was doing it."

"Oh really?  A girl?" I smirked back with a heavy dose of incredulity.

He held my gaze and said, "Of course a girl."

"Okay," I chuckled.  "I'll suck your cock, if it'll stop you from doing the
unthinkable and calling the police about me."

"What... like all the way until it's proper in your mouth?"

"If that's what it takes," I sighed, with a weary shrug.

"Alright then, kneel down in front of me," he told me.  His voice was
shaky: he was really agitated about wanting this.  I wasn't sure if his
nervousness stemmed from the fact he really did fancy girls but none of
them had obliged him orally, or if he was actually gay but had never had
the guts to explore it.

I rather suspected the latter from the way he was trembling and the sweat
that was pouring out of his forehead.

I went over to him and knelt down between his feet among plastic-wrapped
cylinders of coffee cup lids.  He unzipped himself and pulled a
surprisingly large tube of meat out from his fly.  It was limp but
lusciously long and thick and had a chubby, bulbous head underneath a
foreskin which was so much longer than it needed to be.

I said, "You've got a very nice cock, Elliot.  If you don't mind me
saying."

He beamed down at me, and I wondered if nobody had ever complimented it.
Or whether nobody other than his mum and the midwife had ever actually seen
it.

I took it in my hand and caressed it gently, feeling it respond to my touch
by firming up ever so slightly so that its already solid girth started
swelling still further against my fingers.  I thought it was rather pretty
how the end of the over-generous foreskin tapered into a long, puckered
gape, reminding me of the trumpet of a daffodil flower.

I was about to say that it was such an attractive cock that I would never
in a million years have matched it with the long lanky ginger bloke it
happened to be attached to.

But he cut in with, "It's a bit deformed.  The skin doesn't pull back all
the way."

I smiled up at him, my mouth watering at the anticipation of having a taste
of the lovely pudgy-looking thing.  "That doesn't mean it's deformed,
Elliot.  It just means that's how your cock happens to work and you've got
to find ways to enjoy it regardless."

"I won't be able to fuck anyone, though," he whined.  "It hurts to wank off
sometimes, so there's no way I'll be able to push it up anyone's bum."

"Bum?" I asked.  "I thought you said you were into girls... don't you mean
vagina?"

"Oh yeah," he said quickly.  "That's what I meant!"

"Let me suck it for you," I offered kindly, "and get it nice and hard.
Then then we'll see how far back I can work your foreskin using my spit for
lube.  How does that sound?"

He grinned at me broadly like it was Christmas morning.  "Ah yeah, that'd
be dead good, that would!"

I smiled back up at him, thinking that if I played things deftly, I might
be able to wangle a lot more than just a few minutes of mere cock-sucking
from the young duty manager.

I eased his foreskin back as far as it could comfortably go, revealing a
centimetre or so of the slimy pink cock head lurking shyly underneath it.
I took a whiff and found it deliciously sharp and acrid, reeking strongly
of stale piss and the leftovers of countless climaxes.  Soon I was
snuffling hungrily at it, savouring its sharp, acrid tang; fascinated by
the intensity of the odour he was hiding away and which probably only
rarely emerged through the opening of his tight, unobliging foreskin.

I pressed forwards and gently sucked the gooey slit at the tip of it, and
felt him shudder with surprise.  The skin around the shaft of his cock slid
forwards through my fingers, quickly lengthening against them and pushing
them apart as his already ample girth thickened still further.

He was clearly a big strapping lad in the trouser stakes once he got going,
was our Elliot!

He'd been right to worry about sex, though; especially if it was the anal
variety that he had on his radar.  Not only did he have his foreskin
problem to concern him, but the way his organ was growing – and it
wasn't even hard enough to be called a semi yet! – it would probably be
far too large to squeeze up a potential boyfriend's butt.

"Pull your trousers down, son," I gently proposed.  "Let's see this lovely
knob of yours properly with your bollocks hanging down for me to play
with!"

He hastily unclipped his belt and pulled his black coffee-stained trousers
down around his thighs.  His briefs underneath were the most hideous
paisley-patterned Y-fronts I'd ever seen: a throwback from the 'seventies
probably bought for him by his mum from some stall on the market.  Although
I might have enjoyed having a sniff to find where his long rubbery foreskin
had dribbled onto the material, I reached up to the bobbled waistband and
yanked the godawful things down to get them out of my view.

If I were to meet up with him again and this was to become a regular thing
for us – no matter how unlikely that seemed at this moment – my first
present for him, wrapped exquisitely and tied with a simple black ribbon,
would be a pack of decent quality underwear.

I leaned forwards again, towards his startlingly red pubic bush, to get my
mouth around a good few inches of his rapidly stiffening organ.  It was
hugely satisfying to feel it getting larger and thicker against the roof of
my mouth and I slurped at it contentedly, enjoying the sour taste of his
precum as it trickled onto my tongue.

I licked underneath his foreskin, coaxing it open with my spit, and eased
it back and forth with my lips, making gentle masturbatory movements as I
slowly worked it backwards.  His slit was dribbling copiously, producing a
constant ooze of sharp-tasting juice; so much that I was forced to swallow
it down in steady gulps.

"Mmm... yeah..." he sighed as I swept my mouth back and forth along his
organ as it continued to bulk up.  I kept working at him, gesturing for him
to hold my head as I pleasured him, and he kept grunting and sighing as my
lips and tongue did their best to stimulate him every way they could.

I've never been much of a fan of receiving oral myself, but I always find
it rewarding to be able elicit such an appreciative response from other men
from the simple act of wrapping my mouth around their eager penises.
Elliot was no exception and he greatly enjoyed the gentle sucking action of
my hot, wet throat against the head of his cock which grew and inflated
until it was completely filling the back of my mouth.

"Have you ever had a blowjob before?" I asked him after releasing him
momentarily to recover my breath.

"Yeah, once round the back of a nightclub," he revealed.  "Some bloke I met
at the bar offered to suck me off."

"Some bloke?" I queried.  "Don't you mean some bird?"

I was willing to continue the charade that he was straight if it made him
more sexually comfortable to think I believed it.

"No, it was a bloke," he admitted, blushing a little.  "I think I'm
into... er... you know... dude stuff, actually."

"You don't say...?" I retorted, trying to look surprised.

"Yeah, it's looking that way.  The thing about wanting to push my knob up
someone's bum... well, yeah... it would defo be a bum and it would have to
belong to another fella, I reckon."

"Thank you for being honest," I smiled as warmly as I could.

Several possibilities occurred to me but I didn't want to spoil things by
rushing in too brashly, so I got back to attending to his steadily rising
tumescence with all the dexterity I could muster from my lips, tongue and
throat.

His foreskin wasn't stretching any wider than it had earlier: indeed the
swelling of his plump bell-end was hindering my efforts to roll it back any
further.  He'd probably accomplished far more on his own using a tub of
Vaseline and a movie showing 'dude stuff' streaming on his laptop.

Soon, growing bored with the steady slurping up and down his supple tool, I
reached around to fondle Elliot's surprisingly pert backside.  For a big
scrawny lad he had a very full pair of buttocks and I wondered if maybe he
cycled to work because they had a solidness and musculature to them that
seemed very much at odds with the rest of his frame.

He seemed to enjoy the sensation of having his chunky arse groped because
he started working his butt-crack insistently back against my hand.
Encouraged, I took the initiative to ease an exploratory finger into his
hot, clammy hole, feeling my own cock harden fully in my trousers at the
sensation of the thick muddy sludge lurking just inside the tightness of
his ring.

If only I could wangle things so it was my tongue instead of my finger
pushing its way up into such a captivating opening!

But no... he'd already said he wasn't interested in rimming.  Better take
things slowly so as not to frighten the horses.

Even if he wasn't too fussed about being rimmed, Elliot positively loved
the feel of having my finger push into his sticky opening and started
pushing his bum firmly and rhythmically downwards onto my hand.  Soon he
was frantically thrusting his hips so that his huge stiffened cock was
sweeping back and forth at the same time that my finger was rapidly and
roughly reaming his noisy slurping arsehole.

"Oh God, that feels so fucking hot!" he cried out, and I smiled with his
big cock hammering against the back of my mouth, loving the effect my
outstretched finger was having on him.

Suddenly he pulled off me and announced, "I can't do that anymore, mate.
I'm gonna cum so hard!"

"I don't mind you climaxing in my mouth," I smiled up at him.  "In fact,
I'd rather like it!"

"What, for real?" he asked, looking confused.  "The other guy who blew me
off – the bloke out the back of the nightclub – said nutting off in
someone's mouth was a total no-no.  Not to be done unless I wanted my dick
bitten off."

"It's true that some guys draw the line at that," I nodded.  "But I think
the dick biting thing was probably specific to him."

Without thinking, I pulled my finger out from his bum and took a long,
appreciative sniff of the moist, discoloured residue that was streaked
along it.  My pounding hard-on strained against the front of my trousers
from the wonderfully sleazy stink of the young duty manager's arse.

Elliot looked down at me and laughed, "Oh Jesus, mate!  I so can't believe
you just did that!"

"Oh sorry," I said, suddenly blushing at my inelegance.  "It's
just... well... I rather like the whiff of a guy's bum."

"No way!" he chuckled.  "I like that too!  I thought it was just something
weird about me... something only I do!"

I grinned up at him and he explained, "I used to nick my mates' skiddy keks
when they were in the showers after P.E.  I used to love having a good
wank-off after school with the backs of their pants on my face, jacking my
dick off while I was sniffing at their arses!"

"Oh my God!" I laughed.  "If only I'd had the wit and imagination when I
was that age!"

"It was the fucking best!" he affirmed.  "I used to shoot my muck up to the
ceiling!"

"What were you thinking about when you were doing it?" I asked him,
thinking I probably knew the answer.

He hesitated, smirking naughtily at me, before confessing with a rather
adorable blush, "I was imagining that the smell... you know... the sort of
dirty, sweaty stink you get on the back of a dude's pants where they've
hitched up into his arse-crack..."

"Yes...?" I encouraged him.

"Well, I used to pretend it was the smell of me doing my mate up the
bum... him bending over and whacking his dick off... me behind him knobbing
him really hard!"

I laughed at his admission.  "You're a very interesting young man, Elliot,
do you know that?"

He beamed at me and I pulled back from him to admire his full hard-on with
my eyes rather than with my mouth.  It had taken a while to gradually
lengthen and harden but now that it was arching upwards in all its
magnificent glory with the girth of its huge shaft engorged to beercan
thickness, I quickly resolved that it had been well worth the wait.

His erection – along with his large, swollen knackers, for that matter –
looked even more impressive because of his lean, skinny frame.  His lanky
body accentuated the already impressive size of his fully aroused manhood
and his straining nutsack looked all the more massive bulging down heavily
in front of his scrawny legs.

"Your cock is truly outstanding," I told him, still kneeling in front of it
as if paying homage to its splendour.  He grinned down at me and I reached
up to gently caress its spit-soaked shaft.  Apart from the tightness of the
foreskin which prevented the huge plum-like head from emerging completely,
the thing was just about aesthetically perfect.  Totally unsuited to
penetrating a virgin bum, but staggeringly beautiful nonetheless.

"My mates used to call me Muffin the Mule," he smirkingly confided.

I grinned and he added, as if I wouldn't have understood the reference,
"It's like a horse's cock, you see.  Or that's what they reckoned."

"You mentioned you were worried about getting it up someone's backside," I
tentatively suggested.  "Would you like... perhaps – and feel free to
say no! – to try and do it to me?  Only if you'd be comfortable with it,
of course..."

There was no beating around the bush for Elliot.  He nodded with flamboyant
enthusiasm and called out, "Fuck yeah!  Let's do it!"

I guess he must have interpreted my surprise as hesitation, because he
impatiently urged me, "Come on, turn round and pull the back of your keks
down!  You'll have to bend over and stick your arse out if I'm gonna try to
bum you for proper!"

I smiled at him.  "You have such a poetic way with words."

"Hurry up, mate!" he insisted, grabbing my shoulder to swivel me around.
"She'll be knocking at the door again any second!"

I grabbed a condom from my pocket, fumbling with my belt before hitching my
trousers and briefs down enough for him to fuck me.  As I passed him the
wrapper and he keenly tore it open to extract the slimy rubber from inside,
I noticed that the wall in front of me had a month planner on it scrawled
with names and shifts.  Elliot's name appeared with monotonous regularity
and I hoped that this shift, among the endless sea of others, would prove
to be one of the more memorable.

He saw my own cock, looking large and full and standing out from my
bollocks as it slowly hardened, and laughed, "You're well up for getting
your arse shagged, aren't you?"

"It's something I find quite pleasant, yes."

"Well let's see if I can make that big dick of yours stand right up," he
grinned.  "I might even make you nut off over a box of decaf if you like it
that much!"

"Have you done this before?" I asked him as he rolled the condom down his
enormous curving tool with surprising self-assurance.  I spat on my fingers
and rubbed as much of my own drool as I could around my anus, hoping the
wetness and its well-used gape would be enough to allow this well-hung
young man to give it the good rogering he so clearly needed.

"I tried it a couple of times," he admitted.  "One was in a hotel after a
wedding do, the other was with a mate when the two of us were pissed.  Both
times I let the other dudes spunk off up my bum, and then I tried to get my
dick up their arses so I could have my turn on them."

"But it didn't work?" I anticipated, pulling my shirt up a bit to present
him with my pale round buttocks.  I leaned forwards to open my cheeks and
expose to him the spectacularly hairy crack that men seem to like so much,
hoping he would get a first whiff of the odour lurking inside.  It was a
mere foretasting of the much more blatant stink that his cock would soon be
making as it hammered in and out of my strong-smelling behind.

"No, their backdoors were really small and tight," he explained.  "I
couldn't even get the tip of my knob inside without the foreskin really
hurting from where their tiny little bumholes were squeezing around it."

"Well, you're likely to find mine a good deal more accommodating," I
smiled.

I hitched my shirt up a bit more so he could get a better view of my firm
squat butt.  A lot of people have said my behind is my best feature:
something I'm never sure I ought to be pleased about.

Elliot slapped my buttocks affectionately and laughed, "You've got a nice
arse, Rob... I mean, you know... for an older dude!"

I chuckled at the back-handed compliment as he pushed his fingers into my
forested cleft and groped around for my hole.  For a relative novice, he
seemed remarkably casual about fondling another man's bum and poking his
fingers inquisitively into the hairy crease between my cheeks.

Finding my large raised pucker, he exclaimed, "Bloody hell, mate!  Your
arsehole is huge!"

I grinned back at him.  "It is rather – how should I put it? –
'high-traffic' these days!"

He rubbed his fingers around my bloated orifice, again without any
restraint or apparent embarrassment, and surmised, "I reckon I might be
able to get my dick right up a massive jacksie like yours.  It's so
stretched and loose... how many fellas' dicks have you had up it?"

"Oh, quite a few!" I chuckled.  "More than I care to admit!"

He grabbed me by the hips, pushing his knees between mine, and announced,
"Well, let's give it a go!  Let's see if it'll work!"

"The condom should hold your foreskin in place," I told him as he lined his
huge prick up with my equally ample gaping entrance.  "It should stop it
being forced back too far."

He chortled at that and muttered, "I don't think your ringpiece is gonna be
tight enough to do any forcing, mate!"

I felt the warmth of the stubby head of his cock against my big swollen
hole and bent further forwards to push myself more firmly against him.  I
hoped my spit and the lube on the condom would be enough to smooth his
entry: I thought it would be expecting way too much to ask him to rim me
before driving his over-abundant phallus into me.

"Take it slowly, Elliot," I advised him.  "Ease it in gently so that your
foreskin doesn't – oh my God!  Oh Jesus!"

I flinched as he plunged the whole thick length of his cock all the way up
me in one abrupt upward sweep.

"Forget slowly!" he laughed, with his throbbing organ filling my rectum
right down the hilt.  His ginger pubic bush was tickling my arse cheeks and
his big heavy bollocks were pressing into the backs of my legs.  "Seems to
me, mate, that your arse wasn't made for slowly!"

I managed to throw a wincing grin at him over my shoulder and he started
sliding his cock in and out of me with a brisk, assertive rhythm.  He
reached up and grabbed me by the shoulders and smirked broadly back at me
as he began butt-fucking my bent-over body in earnest.  He quickly gathered
pace as he thrust his generous hard-on more strenuously back and forth
through my quivering cheeks, and I called out at how exciting it felt: "Oh
God, yeah!  Your cock feels so good!"

He laughed at that – loving being told how great his over-sized penis
felt driving in and out of another man's bowels – and panted, "I can't
believe I'm finally bumming a guy!  That I'm actually shagging another
bloke's big hairy arse!"

"Is it painful at all?" I asked him, grabbing my own cock to wank myself
while he boisterously buggered me.  "Does your foreskin hurt?"

"Not even slightly," he grinned.  "It feels totally awesome!  I thought
that fellas' arseholes were so tight I'd never get my dick up one... I
didn't realise I just needed to find a total butt-slut like you!"

I couldn't help but cackle with laughter at that.  "Oh Elliot... it's so
nice to have one's talents appreciated!"

He grabbed me more tightly and started slamming his hips so hard against my
reddening buttocks that I was sure the loud rapid clapping sound of our sex
would be audible from out in the cafe.

"I've always wanted to do this!" he panted, sweeping the long shaft of his
cock rapidly in and out of my gaping hairy trench.  "Ever since I first
heard that lads can shag each other by bending over for it, I've always
wanted to try it and see what it felt like to get my knob up another dude's
arsehole!"

His big heavy bollocks were thumping so hard against my thighs that I was
concerned for their welfare.  If he wanted to father children at some point
in the future, this was hardly improving his chances.

"Is it as good as you'd hoped it would be?" I asked, knowing full well what
the answer would be.

"Way, way better!" he laughed with his cock going at full-pelt as it
revelled in losing its anal virginity.

He was a natural top, of that I was certain.  The twice he'd let other lads
use his arse for sex in return for a go on theirs, he must have been
mortified when he found he couldn't work his massive organ into their tight
brown holes.

I peered over my shoulder at him, chuckling at his enthusiasm.  He really
was losing himself in the moment, enjoying the hot grip of my bowels to the
full.

"I'm butt-fucking you for real!" he declared, perhaps thinking I might not
have noticed.  He looked down at his cock, marvelling at the sight of it
pumping in and out of the dank wiry forest between my twin spread cheeks.

"Oh God, it looks so totally hot!" he gasped.  "My big knob banging away at
another bloke's big hairy arse!"

"You've fantasized about this for a long time," I suggested.

"Too right," he panted, gripping me more tightly and bending me lower so he
could lever my body against the frantic jabbing of his organ.  "I've
thought about this pretty much every time I've wanked off.  How it'd feel
to bum another fella with him bending over for it and me going at it behind
him.  How it'd smell to be doing it up a bloke's dirty shitter, making it
stink proper dirty just like we are!"

I sniffed the air a couple of times, suddenly becoming aware of the strong
smell our anal sex was giving off.  I'm always a bit whiffy when I'm
letting another man use me from behind, but on this day I have to admit I
was especially odorous.

I grinned over my shoulder at him.  "There is a
somewhat... er... distinctive scent!"

"Don't worry about it, mate – I told you before how much I get off on
it!" he panted.  "I loved how rough and nasty it stunk when those other
lads were porking away my shitty arse, but I love it even more now that my
cock's the one getting skid-marks on it!"

As my hand was speeding up on my erection at the coarseness of his
language, the door of the office suddenly swung open and his colleague with
the bedraggled hair poked her head in to see what was delaying the young
duty manager.

Elliot's hips stopped thrusting and he swung round and exclaimed, somewhat
belatedly, "Oh fuck!  I should've locked that!"

The girl just gawked in at us, gobsmacked to see this scrawny, gangly lad's
obscenely thick cock curving upwards from his crotch and wedged firmly
between my big round buttocks.  Her boss had been hiding a surprisingly
large piece of meat down the front of his innocuous coffee shop uniform.

She called out, "Bloody hell, Elliot!  What d'ya think you're doing?"

"I'm just... er... interrogating him," he muttered, making no attempt to
dislodge his enormous manhood from where it was impaled quite blatantly
deep inside my rectum.

She stared at it fixedly, perhaps amazed that a shaft with such a wide
girth could squeeze itself into another man's bum.  Or perhaps she was
shocked to see the thick brown slime smeared along her boss's hefty organ,
with my butt hair clinging to it in dense matted clumps.

Pulling herself together, she asked, "What, by shoving your cock up his
arse?"

"Company policy," he countered, perhaps his usual defence when he was stuck
for an answer.

"That is so lame," she whined.

His response to that was to grab me tightly by the shoulders again and to
resume his rough, rapid rhythm in and out of my grateful hole.

"Oh my God!" she cried out.  "I can't believe you're just carrying on
bumming him in here while I'm working flat-out on my own out there!"

"Well I am!" he snapped.  "So fuck off and get back to the counter!"

Ignoring his instruction, she said, "You can't actually like it!  Don't
tell me you're enjoying screwing this bloke's big skanky arse!"

"I'm not just enjoying it," he panted, exaggerating his sighs of pleasure,
"I'm fucking loving it!"

I smirked at her, bending down even lower and pushing my arse back to meet
my energetic lover's hard relentless thrusts.

She just gaped at us both, her eyes wide and disbelieving, first peering at
her manager's thick slamming girth streaked unashamedly with my dirty brown
goo, and then staring across at my own well-sized hard-on being urgently
wanked by my frantic fist.

"Look at my big cock!" he urged her, eager to redirect her gaze back onto
him.  He clearly wanted her to admire how spectacular his large erection
looked as it accomplished something he'd worried might not be possible.
"Look at my massive knob shagging another dude up his chuff!"

I suddenly realised there was more going on between the two of them than
just colleague and co-worker and that having her see him like this was in
some way important to him.  Eager to support him in his efforts, I grinned
more broadly at her startled expression and called out, "Do it harder,
Elliot!  God, it feels so fucking good!  Ram your massive cock up my arse
as rough as you can!"

He did as I'd asked and started pummelling me like a jackhammer, pounding
his hips back and forth so vigorously against me that I could feel his pube
sweat making wet patches on my buttocks.

"I'm gonna nut off right up him!" he breathlessly sneered at her, revelling
in how shocked she looked to see her tall, lanky boss buggering another
man.  It occurred to me that she might have a bit of thing for him and I'd
inadvertently dashed whatever deluded fantasies she'd been taking home from
work.

"I'm gonna fill his arsehole up with a big load of my spunk!" he taunted
her and I wondered if he'd known that she'd been harbouring a cutesy crush
behind the coffee shop counter.  Perhaps an awkward pass had been made by
her during the quiet of a mid-morning lull; an unwanted advance giftwrapped
in greasy unkempt hair.

She looked down at his bloated nut-sack whacking against my thighs,
readying themselves to shoot a very bountiful load into the condom that was
buried deep inside my well-slapped backside.

"D'ya wanna watch me cum?" he managed to laugh through laboured panting.
"D'ya wanna see me spunk up with my cock up another bloke's arse?"

"It's disgusting!" she barked, her voice shaking through either anger or
emotion.  "And it stinks of his shit!" she added before slamming the door
shut.

Elliot immediately hit his climax and I sensed his disappointment, as his
weighty balls unburdened themselves deep up into my bowels, that the girl
who for all I knew might have been aggressively stalking him for some time,
wasn't present to witness his shuddering orgasm.

When I felt the heat of his jizm filling the end of the condom up inside
me, I pounded my cock as fast as I could until my own white cream was
squirting in thick surges across a stack of cartons of powdered milk.

When we'd both finished panting and I could feel his hefty shaft starting
to soften and make the condom wrinkle against my stretched tunnel, I pulled
off him with a wet sloppy fart and stood up to grin at him with my own cock
withering.

"I don't know what blokes say to each other after they've just finished
bumming," he told me.

"What did you say to the two blokes who did it you?"

"'Turn over, it's my turn'," he shrugged.

"And after that?" I chuckled.  "When you couldn't get it up them?"

"'Oh fuck.  Well at least let me wank off over your arse'."

"I think the normal procedure – after successful anal copulation – is
for the two of us to help each other clean up," I told him.  "Then we see
if either of us is going to suggest that we meet up again, and after that
we shake hands and tell each other how much we enjoyed it."

"You might wanna meet up again?" he asked cheerfully.

"Very much so," I smiled.  "But only on the condition that next time we
have sex, I get a turn too!"

"Of course you can!" he grinned.

"Maybe an old fella like me could teach you a thing or two," I offered.
"Just a few kindly offered suggestions about pacing and how to vary the
technique..."

"Yeah, maybe you could!" he chuckled.  "That'd be well slick, that!"

As I walked back out into the coffee shop, still heaving with a long queue
of customers from the one-woman service battling to cope behind the
counter, I saw him approach his frizzy-haired colleague with some
trepidation.

"I'm gonna tell head office about what you were up to," she muttered at him
as she frothed up a jug of milk.

"Yeah, well I'll tell them about what you did," he challenged her, resuming
some of his earlier self-assurance.  "Except that I've got proof, haven't
I?  What proof have you got?"

"You promised you'd deleted that!" she hissed, scowling furiously at him.

"I didn't promise anything!" he countered, as I left them to it and went
back out into the mall.

I looked around for the lad who had called himself Curtis but it seemed
that he'd beat a hasty retreat.  Perhaps another good Samaritan had bought
him his precious game, or perhaps he'd given up on the prospect of a Sunday
in front of his Xbox and had instead resolved to interact with the real
world.

Never mind, I thought.  I'd found myself a rather more interesting young
man who'd proven himself to be far more game than the game boy to enjoy a
bit of fun with me.  A guy who, if he kept to his word when he'd keyed my
number into his phone, would soon be contacting me again to arrange a
second hook-up for the two of us in the more comfortable surroundings of my
bedroom at home.

And my first gift to him – if he didn't see it as too much of a come-on
– would be a pack of stylish underwear, tastefully presented over a
couple of glasses of good wine.

===

robert.furlong@rocketmail.com
robertfurlong.tumblr.com

===