Ricky, my partner, unlocked the bedroom door and I noticed Jason peering down the corridor to make sure the three of us weren't being watched.
"Are you sure your wife will be asleep?" I checked with him, as I closed the door behind him and Ricky clicked on one of the bedside lamps.
"Yeah, she were rat-arsed when I brought her up to bed," Jason replied. "If she in't asleep, she'll be throwin' her guts up in the john. Either way, she won't notice if I'm not there."
He sprawled himself out in the white leather armchair which was positioned to one side of our double bed. His large, tall frame was almost too hefty for it and his thick, tattooed forearms hung over each side.
"Come on then, lads," he laughed with a drunken drawl. "Ya know what I'm here for... let's see the two o' ya get started!"
"Surely you want us to undress first?" Ricky asked. I could tell from the way he slightly slurred the word 'undress' that the alcohol was affecting him more than his manner would suggest.
Jason chortled and then said, "Naah... it'll be better if ya start off with yer posh suits on. Make it more interestin', like."
"It'll be a bit difficult for us to have sex in our suits," Ricky pointed out, undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his tie. "If you're sure that's what you want to see...?"
Jason laughed again. "That's exactly what I wanna see. The full fuckin' works! How two blokes get down to it... wankin', suckin', bummin'... the lot!"
The two of us couldn't help giggle and Jason looked puzzled at our amusement. I explained to him: "Bumming is a bit of a playground word."
He shrugged and dismissively waved his one of his shovel hands. "Well, whatever you wanna call it, then. I wanna see a cock goin' into an arse, put it like that!"
"Surely you've seen your own doing that to your wife?" Ricky asked.
Jason chuckled. "That's different, mate. I wanna see how you guys do it. How it works when you've got two men goin' at it together... two rock hard cocks and a couple o' tight little arseholes!"
I looked at Ricky and we smiled at each other. We'd never made love in the presence of an audience before - well, not to our knowledge - and it would be intriguing to have another man - especially a big, ostensibly straight bloke like Jason - sitting alongside us, watching us perform.
"Do you think it'll be different from what you're used to?" I asked him.
He grinned. "Fuckin' yeah! Of course it will! Two 'orny blokes, both 'ot for each other, with no woman there to tell them she's gettin' tired, or gettin' an 'eadache or whatever!"
"I think you're over-egging it a bit," Ricky laughed. "You'll probably find we're not as dynamic as you're expecting us to be."
Jason just chuckled, clearly unconvinced. "Come on, fellas. I know how it works when it's two gay blokes goin' at it together. I've seen stuff on the web. All that spunk in yer bollocks and no-one to keep a lid on things... I think we all know what a fuckin' good show I'm gonna get!"
He slouched back into the armchair, trying to make himself more comfortable, and gave the growing mound of his crotch a gentle rub through his black formal trousers.
Ricky and I grinned at each other, fascinated at seeing this large, burly man starting to become aroused, while Jason smirked back at us, enjoying the fact we were both clearly attracted to him.
"Ya don't mind if I give my todger a little work-over while I watch, do ya?" he asked.
We both shook our heads. Did he mean he was going to get it out and wank himself off in front of us?
"Okay then, lover boys," he said with a grin, his finger and thumb finding his thickening rod through the black material and slowly moving up and down it. "Let's see how the two of ya do the dirty together!"
===
Jason had first come over to our table in the hotel bar just after the wedding service. The photos of the bride and groom's families had just been taken in the gardens and everyone had dispersed into their own small groups trying to find ways to fill time until the evening. Ricky and I had been sitting together, drinking quietly in the corner, feeling a little awkward that we knew so few people in the party.
Jason had sat himself down in front of us, his half-empty pint in his hand, and introduced himself as the brother of the bride, although both Ricky and I had long since guessed who he was. It wasn't just his prime position at the front of the church which had given it away: he had exactly the same shade of dark brown hair as Amanda, the bride, and his face was instantly recognisable as a younger and more athletic version of her dad's.
Indeed we'd both noticed him as soon as we'd arrived that morning: he was a tall, muscular bloke struggling not to burst out of the new suit he'd been squeezed into and looked like he'd be more at home getting oil all over himself under a car than having to parade around in his imposed finery. Ricky had whispered in the church that Jason was 'RBC' - an abbreviation which I knew stood for 'rough but cute' - and I had quietly agreed that he had the build of a rugby player, a sturdy physique which my partner knew me to be an ardent fan of. We'd grinned at each other as we saw him take his place on the front pew of the church: his buttocks looking full and succulent as he'd hitched up his jacket to sit down and the hem of his underwear clearly defined against the straining seat of his trousers.
Now that Jason was right in front of us, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms like tree-trunks and swathed with faded tattoos, the two of us were reduced to ogling him speechlessly. He seemed to recognise that the only two gay guys in the wedding party admired his appearance and, from the broadness of his unaffected grin, it seemed that the knowledge was far more amusing to him than it was threatening.
"You're friends with David, the groom, aren't ya?" he asked us after we'd clumsily introduced ourselves and managed to make some obligatory small-talk about the wedding service.
Ricky nodded. "He was on the same course as Scott at university," he told Jason, gesturing towards me.
Without further prompting, Jason said, "You two look really good together."
We must have just stared at him because he chuckled and clarified himself: "What I mean is, ya make a nice couple. I think it looks great to see two fellas in a relationship - I wish it were somethin' you saw more often."
Neither of us knew how to respond and eventually Ricky, for want of anything better to say, muttered, "I thought straight guys were supposed to think that women make nice couples. Not pairs of guys..."
Jason laughed at that; a real blokeish belly laugh.
"I'll grant ya that," he agreed after taking a swig from his beer. "Lesbian couples are usually better to look at than gay men, in some respects at least. But you two look pretty good together too - ya seem well-matched and ya look really nice in yer flashy suits."
We continued to feel a little uncomfortable from his attentions, but we thanked him nonetheless. It was true that Ricky and I made a fetching sight together: we'd been an item for over ten years and had that easy familiarity with one another which instantly betrayed that we were a lot more than good friends. Ricky was a little shorter than me but was strikingly more handsome, having a beautifully tanned Italian complexion and a thick head of luscious black hair to match. In contrast, I'm blond-haired and blue-eyed, with what has most charitably been described as a "boy next door" face and just the first signs of wrinkles starting to show around my eyes.
We both kept ourselves well-toned at the gym and were both keen swimmers (we'd met at the local pool, incidentally), and I must admit that Jason was right about how stunning we both looked in our sharply-tailored suits, wearing deliberately contrasting Sam Homber ties.
