Long Drive North (the Hotel)

I woke up with an uncomfortably full bladder. It took me a few moments to realize where I was - in a Scottish hotel room, on my way to my brother's wedding. My phone alarm was going off, so I guessed it was ten o'clock, but a check showed it was half eight. I swore and fumbled for the pack of fags next to the bed, swearing again when I groggily remembered I was in a no-smoking room. I thought about getting dressed and going outside for a smoke but it just seemed like too much effort right at that moment. About all I could concentrate on was the need to empty my bladder, and it was getting more important by the second.

The curtains were closed but it looked like a beautiful day outside.

I rolled out of the bed and stumbled into the en-suite, pissed like a shire horse, washed my hands and splashed some cold water onto my face to try and clear out the cobwebs. I eyed myself in the mirror. I looked rough.

Gaz and I had arrived at the hotel around one in the morning. I'd been absolutely shattered, but my mate had been well up for a bit of buggery. He'd enthusiastically started sucking me off ... and then I'd fallen asleep. I'd woken up around three, alone. Gaz'd taken my boots and jeans off and thrown a blanket over me before he'd gone to his own room, most likely fucked off and horny, probably to wank himself into unconsciousness.

I shuffled back into the room, sat down on the bed and thought seriously about going back to sleep for an hour or so. Or maybe having a wank myself to take the edge off the morning.

I swished the last of the Lucozade round in my mouth while I weighed up whether I wanted a fag more than I wanted some more kip. The decision was made for me by a knock at the door. Given I was wearing only the socks, boxers and t-shirt I'd been sleeping in I was disinclined to open the hotel room door unless I had to.

"Who's that?" I called out, in a tone I hoped with discourage whoever it was from knocking again.

"'s me y'daft bastard. Open up." Gaz. He sounded to be in a good mood.

I opened the door. Gaz grinned at me and pushed straight past into the room. He was wearing his green tracksuit and ratty trainers and by the smell and his shiny face had just got back from a run. He had his wash kit with him, and a rolled up towel. I shook my head and shut the door behind him.

He chucked the wash kit and towel onto the couch and sprawled next to them. He sat with an easy confidence in the middle of the nondescript sofa, legs apart, arms along the back. He was clearly showing himself off for my benefit. His tracksuit was half-unzipped showing off tufts of dark chest hair. His trackie bottoms bulged at the crotch, his meaty cock and heavy, sweaty bollocks obviously not restrained by any underwear (as usual). I imagined him running for a moment, his muscles pistoning. He ran a lot, my mate Gaz, and that's the main reason the beer hasn't given him a bigger belly.

Gaz seemed to be in a good mood. I guessed he was still pretty horny, just from the grin and the way he was sitting. He'd probably already had at least one toss this morning - Gaz is a guy who can wank until the cows come home and stay up for a fuck.

"You awake then?" he asked.

"Maybe." I answered, yawning hugely as I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sorry about last night, but I was fucking shattered."

He shrugged my apology away. "Heard you moving around. Thought I'd come and see what you were up to."

"Me phone went off early. You know owt about that?" I asked.

"Nope," he lied shamelessly.

"Gonna need to get moving soon, son." I told him. I yawned and stretched a bit.

"Still a bit of time yet though-but?" He asked. His grin widened, slow and lazy. He slid one hand inside his trackie bottoms, juggling his nuts. "Time for a shower, at any rate." I replied as I peeled off my t-shirt and threw it towards him. He caught it and buried his face in it taking a lung full of my stale sweat, then tossed it back. I chucked it towards the bag by the other side of the bed.

"You need one mate. You stink." He said, his voice a little rough. His newly adjusted crotch was getting a little swollen, as the blood rushed to his head.

I stood up from the bed, just in my socks and boxers, and turned my back on him. I pretended to yawn again, stretching and holding the pose for a moment, letting my muscles tense. I'm never going to be a male model, but I reckon I'm sexy enough and I know Gaz fancies my body whatever he might say. I wanted him to appreciate my muscular, hairy back and firmly set legs. I clenched my arse muscles as well for a moment before releasing them, frowning slightly as the boxers caught in my sweaty crack. I reached behind to pull them free, jerking one leg to resettle my nuts as I did so, then bent over to sort myself out a towel and some clean clobber from my bag.

"Cocktease," he muttered. I heard him stand up and cross the room to stand behind me. I stood up before he could do anything, turning round with my towel. We were about a foot apart.

Gaz isn't quite my height, but he's a stocky little fuck, well built for all that he props up a bar more often than he lifts one. Skull cropped dark hair still managed to look a little tatty, four-day stubble threatening to turn into a beard. Dark eyes, gazing into mine with a bit of a challenge in them, and obvious lust. His body still smelt of exertion. His green trackie bottoms were tenting a little - a man who never wears underwear should not wear tracksuit bottoms when he's horny.

"You want summat, mate?" I asked him, feigning indifference.

He growled, grabbed me by the waistband of my boxers, and pulled me towards him.

"You fucking know what I want, Rob. Stop pissing about." His breath was minty fresh, for a change. There was a spot of dry toothpaste in his stubble. I leaned in a bit, and licked the spot, my tongue rasping across his semi-beard. He turned his head a little, catching my tongue with his for a moment, and tried to slide his hands around me into the small of my back. I pushed Gaz back, onto the edge of the bed, and he sat down heavily.

I dropped the towel and knelt down on it, pushing his legs apart.

"What you doing?" He asked.

"I'm gonna suck you off Gaz. That okay?" I rubbed his crotch through the trackie bottoms, staring straight into his eyes.

"Get in!" He was smiling like a kid about to get a lollipop, which was ironic as our situations were about 100% different - for now.

Still rubbing at him, I reached up with me free hand and unzipped his top, sliding my hand over his fuzzy belly and hairy chest, tweaking one of his nipples so he caught his breath. I leant in, and tasted the smell of him. Sweat and smoke and maybe a whiff of come from the previous night. I licked his tummy, rasping hair against my tongue. He took a shuddering breath. I stared up at him, keeping eye contact as I stopped rubbing his rapidly firming erection and instead slid my hand under the waistband so I could get a grip on his todger. He gazed down at me happily, his face flushing a little, his breathing getting heavier.

I eased his dick out of his pants, leaving his balls behind, letting the elastic hold his thickening rod semi-vertical. I hadn't taken my eyes off his face. He was watching me avidly.

"So ... you gonna shave then?" I asked him, taking his chin in one hand while moving the other slowly up and down his shaft, sliding the skin back a little with each down stroke. "Or are you going to turn up to the wedding looking like a tramp?"

I let go of his chin, and began to stroke his thighs and the mound of his sweaty bollocks.

"Sure mate. Sure I am. Yep." he said, nodding his head enthusiastically, comically keen to make sure I was happy.

I looked down at his dick for the first time since I'd hooked it out. Stocky, well-built and tasty, just like the man it was attached to. Nearly at full lob, it fitted my hand well. I took a firmer grip and slowly slid the foreskin back, revealing his moody red helmet.

Leaning in, I touched his piss-slit with my tongue, felt him jump. I looked up. His eyes were closed, his smirk spreading even wider as he exhaled heavily. I took a tighter grip in his shaft and eased his foreskin back, pleased for a change that there was no smeg encrusted underneath. He'd obviously cleaned up before he came over - probably right before he came over. "Who're you thinking of?" I asked him.

"Jason Statham." he replied promptly. I shook my head. He opened his eyes and gave me the thumbs up. I lowered by head back toward his dark cockhead, wrapped my smile around it, swirling my tongue over his nob end, gently pushing it under his foreskin.

Suddenly Gaz dropped backwards onto the bed, and started to snore loudly.

I let his dick flop out of my mouth and squeezed his bollocks hard though his trackies, flicking his cockend as I did so. He yelped and jumped, sitting back up again and wincing.

"Watch it mate! That hurt! I was trying to get some kip!"

"Fuck you," I said, mock angry. "I said I was sorry, do you want to fuck or what?"

"Shit mate, course I do. I'm just pissing about. Jesus don't stop."

He put his hand on the top of my head and tried to push it back down toward his dick. I shook it off.

"For that you put your hands behind your head bitch."

"Not a bitch," he grumbled, but did as he was told. Sitting upright, hands clasped behind his head, gazing down hungrily at what I was up to.

I went back down on his cock, licking it like an ice pop, getting it good and slobbery. I continued to squeeze his balls, but with a lighter touch, palping them lazily through the material of the tracksuit. He sighed in pleasure. I tasted a flood of precum, and went to work swallowing as much of his dick as was comfortable. My hand roved from his balls to his belly and chest, then back to his nuts. I let his cock out of my gob for a moment to spit into the palm of my hand, and then accompanied my sucking with a smooth lazy wank.

Gaz started to buck his hips a little, but I growled in my throat and he stopped.

"Fucks sake man, I'm so fucking horny." He murmured. "I've been gagging for a shag since we got here."

I looked up at him, resting my tongue against his shaft, and winked.

I leant back and pulled his tracksuit bottoms down. He lifted his arse obligingly, his spit-slicked dick and hairy bollocks bouncing around enthusiastically, thwacking against his gut. He opened his legs a little more when the bottoms reached his ankles, but I didn't pull them fully off. I leant in and took a long slurp along the side of his cock, then buried my face in his crotch, snuffling his balls and teasing them with tongue and teeth.

Out of his sight I took a firm grip on his pants and in a smooth motion pulled them straight up, dragging his legs with them. His hands still behind his head, he went straight over on his back with a "whuff" noise.

I took a moment to get a good look at his hairy arse, thick black fuzz over firm cheeks, then still holding his feet above my head I leant in to lick and nip at his furry backside. I let his trackie bottoms go, but he kept his feet up, spreading them as much as the pants allowed. I pulled his arse cheeks wider and leant in, pausing for a moment to say:

"Fart and I'll fucking kill you."

He chuckled, throatily. He's done that to me before and it's not funny, given how vile the stench of his guts can be. He was too horny to fuck me about like that this time, though. I took a moment to nuzzle his hairy cheeks with mine, and then let the tip of my tongue push into his crack to touch his brown hole. Nice and clean for a change, a musky taste rather than a rank one. I pressed my face against him, tonguing and licking his arsehole, letting my hands slide up his hairy legs, then bringing them back down to fondle and cup his balls and stroke his dick. He pulsed his arse muscles, making his dick bob against my hand, as I got his backside slick with spit.

"Ah fuck me mate that's fine, that's good. Get your tongue right in there Rob, get a good gobful of arse."

I did as he asked, enthusiastically, my prick hard and poking through the slit in my boxers. I reached town to stroke it a little as I lapped and tongued his hairy starfish. Using the other hand to massage his thighs, his balls, and rub his belly. He grabbed my roving hand, dragged it up to his mouth where the sucked my fingers in, biting them, wetting them with his slaver, then transferred them to his left nipple. I took the hint and twisted it - hard - making him moan and yelp at the same time.

Then Gaz shifted around me, sitting up. He pushed me away from him, and I rocked back onto my haunches, licking the musty taste off my lips. I wiped my hand over my chin, slick with saliva and sweat. My buddy sat up properly and with a fumbling haste ungracefully tore his trackie bottoms from round his ankles, leaving his trainers on. His tracksuit top flapping open, he leant down and gave me a long, lingering kiss, one hand on the back of my head to pull me up level with his face, his tongue heavy and hot and hungry for the taste of his own dick and crack. Then he pulled away, shrugging off his tracksuit top. He folded the top and bottoms together roughly and tossed them over to me, before lying down again, stark naked and lifting himself up so his arse and lower back were clear of the bed. I slid the bundled clothes under his arse and he dropped back down again heavily, making the mattress squeak in protest.

"Get us fucked, Rob." he said quietly. "There's some lube in me shaving kit." I laughed then, standing up, rubbing my rock-hard dick, and looked down at him, drinking in the sight of his hairy legs, his furry belly, his firm chest and the dark fuzz that covered it. Solid curves, a masculine man, stocky but not short, solid but not fat or over-muscled. He wasn't smirking any more, his skin was slicked with new sweat, and his pupils were dilated with desire. I stood over him.

"What the fuck do I need lube for Gaz? Fucking your arse is like throwing a hotdog up Princess Street. I can barely touch the side."

He glowered up at me and took a swipe at my crotch with one trainered foot.

"Cheeky cunt."

I grinned, but wasted no time finding his shaving kit and the newly-bought sexual lubricant inside. There was a bumper pack of condoms as well, which surprised me a little. " You want me in a welly?" I asked him, squeezing some lube out into my hand. He shook his head.

"Not right now mate. Not as if it's us has to clean up. Now stop jabbering and get us seen to."

I slid my boxers off with one hand and smeared a handful of lube up and down my shaft. Gaz was slowly wanking with one hand, tweaking his nipple with the other. He didn't take his eyes off me as I crossed the room back to the bed. My balls jumped and tingled, and I was a little surprised to learn just how close to shooting my bolt I was already

I squeezed another gob of lube out onto two fingers, and chucked the tube onto the bed. I crouched back between his legs. He lifted them up and spread them out, giving me a moment to check out the hairy groove between his arse cheeks glistening with a combination of spit and sweat. I used one hand to open him up again and slid one of my slippery fingers into his aresehole as he grabbed hold of his own ankles and pulled himself up.

He gasped and clenched.

"That's fucking freezing," he groaned, but he settled himself back onto my finger. I moved it around a little inside him, then slid the second one in next to him and started to gently frig him with a smooth back and forth, up and down, side to side action.

He bit his lip and lowered his head back onto the bed, pressing his hands against the headboard and, pushing back a little in time to my rhythm. My cock was throbbing now and I was desperate to bury it in Gaz's guts, to feel him around and under me, and to get both our rocks off with a sweaty fuck.

"That good, aye?" I asked my voice hoarse with lust.

"Yeah mate," replied Gaz. "But stop fucking around and get your dick in me arse. We've got a wedding to go to y'kna."

"Jesus, after sweet-talk like that how can I say no man?" I pulled my fingers out of him, squeezed some more lube straight onto his arse, making him writhe and swear, then stepped smartly up between his legs and used one hand to press the head of my cock against his back passage.

Joking aside, Gaz's arse is by no means slack. Not many lads get a go at Gaz's backside - as far as I know I'm the only fella he's let up him in a decade or more. When he's fucking someone else, he's all top. To be honest, Gaz was the only bloke I'd let up my arse in the last decade either. When we fuck we do it face-to-face nine times out of ten. I like to look at the bloke I'm fucking, like to see his eyes widen when I push against his sphincter for the first time, like to read his expression when I start to slide in.

I pushed a little more forcefully and felt the pop as the tip slid inside Gaz. He pulled his legs back further, his dirty trainers up by my shoulders, wriggling underneath me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." he grunted. "Oh you cunt, that's good stuff that is, that's the ticket, that's ... fuck."

Gaz swears when he's fucked. I saw him drop a hammer on his bare foot once and he made exactly the same fuss. He glared up at me as I fed another inch or so into him.

"That all you got mate? Fucking hell you're taking your time, what's the matter?"

"I'm horny as fuck mate," I said. "I want to fuck you proper, not come like a virgin, alright?"

He guffawed, his face red and sweaty, and he let go of his legs for a moment to get his heels into my lower back and try to drag me forward. I leant my knees on the edge of the mattress, shifting position, and letting him pull me forward, looking down to watch my prick bunching up against his ring and sliding fatly into him. I could hear him swearing under his breath, feel him shifting under me as if in discomfort, but his face was pure lust, his jaw slack and his eyes closed.

I leaned over him a bit more, shifting one leg onto the bed proper to get some purchase. I grabbed his dick and slapped it against his belly, mingling my spit and his juice with the curly hair. Then I eased myself back an inch or two, then forward, taking it slow at first. He opened his eyes again, pulled his legs back and up, tried to hook them over my shoulders. I took his weight with a grunt, and he dug his heels into my shoulders.

"Not so rough mate still got your trainers on." I said.

"Fucking pansy," he replied, and knocked my ears with his feet. He shuffled a little, sliding them back and resting his ankles on my shoulders. I felt sweat running down my back, starting to pool under my armpits. I was even hornier than I thought. I started to work my length against him, slowly rocking.

"So ... who else is going to be at the wedding, Rob?" Gaz asked out of nowhere.

"Jesus Christ Gaz, is now the time!?"

"Yeah yeah, I wanna take your mind off the brilliant arse you're in and the excellent fucker you're shagging. I don't want you spunking off until I've had a proper shafting, like. Also I like thinking about your Jack when you fuck me."

I pulled back an extra few inches and drove hard back into him, making him gasp and let out a stream of fucks and cunts. He recovered quickly, panting a little.

"Fuck me mate if I knew mentioning your Jack while we were fucking would get you going like that I'd do it more often!"

I grinned in spite of myself, returning to the slow rhythm of my thrusts, letting his legs slide against my torso. I took a grip on his dick as I spoke to him, sliding my hand up and down it in time to my lazy thrusts. For all we were bantering, both of us were a little short of breath as the lust moved between us.