Scott

"I know I fucked up," Scott uttered the moment his hands clasped around a bottle of cold cider and his butt touched the soft leather armchair. "'Twas my fault as much as his."

"What happened?"

Scott sighed. "I played away," he admitted, and took a big swig of his bottle of alcohol. He looked at me. "Don't judge me. I'm only 50% gay! I'm 50% straight as well. Iain can't give me cunt and I love a bit of beaver." Scott rubbed his eyes and stared into the distance. "You met her anyway. Virginia, from the Christmas Party."

"She was an ... escort!"

"She's a temp from the office who's a camgirl to earn a few quid on the side. When her hubby's away, she does these late-night pay-per-view things. I found out at the works BBQ last year. She got well pissed, blurted out to me she did it, and then we fucked in the workshop. In November, she said she was skint, so I asked her if was up for a bit of whoring. And she was, so I gave her Martin's number. But she's married to a lorry driver. I met him at the barbie and he's just a fat, rude, nasty piece of shit. Absolute thug. She hates him and wants a divorce, but is scared to leave him. He's a nasty bully."

"So you took advantage of him not being home to park your HGV in her lorry park?"

Scott nodded and drunk more of his drink. "And it's been good. Every Sunday and Thursday. Some other days when we can. But yesterday, I went to her house after work and we were at it in her bedroom. Iain's doing a Friday night shift at his sauna, so he wasn't expecting me home. We locked the door and I was giving her a good time. Must have caught my phone and butt-dialled him as I got undressed, as Iain heard us fucking."

"Oh."

"Yeah, when I got home, we had a fight. We ended up in the front garden and our gay-bashing neighbour called the cops. The Fuzz turn up and we both get carted off to the Cop Shop. Friday night and I'm in the fucking slammer."

"Holy fuck, they arrested you?"

"I wasn't there for a bloody sight-seeing trip!" Scott snapped and then shrugged. "Yeah, they let us cool down in the cells over night. Interviewed us today and they could have done us both for assault, but we both accepted a caution. Breach of the Peace, or something. So I've given Iain a few days' space. He doesn't mind me fucking any guy I want, but the moment I touched tits or cunt, he was done with me. He just can't accept that I need pussy as well. It makes him insecure, and I can'nae handle that. We both said some nasty things, and we just need to go our separate ways. He wants to move near to the city centre, as he hates out here in the countryside. Our twat of a neighbour doesn't help things. Iain's got this love affair with Canal Street and I don't."

"So ..."

"Can ye-ask Martin if I can stay with you for the week. I know he's in Greece or Italy or Spain or somewhere getting no sex, so his bed is free. And your bit of fluff is away, so you're on your own and lonely. I just need a few days to sort things out."

"Sure, with Iain?"

"With Virginia," he snorted. "Dirty little fucker never kept it in his pants, anyway. We had an open relationship until he freaked out about me getting down with Virginia's open legs. I need to sort out somewhere to live with her, so can I just stay for a few days?"

I nodded and sent my host a text message, and he replied almost instantly. "Yes. Of course that's fine. Make him feel at home."

Scott smiled his phone vibrated, and he glanced at the text message. "There's space in the right drawer under the bed if you need it to store stuff. The extra condoms and lube are in the bathroom cabinet," he read with a grin, and slid his phone away. He smirked at me. "He knows you so well!"

"I thought you wanted to sort things with Virginia," I replied.

"Virginia has no problems with my bisexuality. She's a camgirl and as long as I am not judgemental about her sex life and her extras, she doesn't care about mine. She did a lesbian show at Christmas with a girl from Stoke, so she's not fussed." His eyes sparkled as he spoke about the delectable minx who had enjoyed the Christmas party. "And I watched her at the Christmas Party. I don't care what she does with her booty. As long as I get some."

I stashed Scott's bike at the back of the Summerhouse and we ordered takeaway pizzas. We ate unhealthy food and drank unhealthy beer in front of the big screen as we chatted and watched the International football match. There was nothing sexual between us, but just a friendship. He needed someone to talk to, and be a stable companion to him.

I was delighted to be that person. I liked Scott and had always been fond of the cheerful, effervescent footballer, with his uncanny knack to make me smile, and his ability to push every one of my sexual buttons. He teased me, played with me, excited me and effortlessly dominated me, but I adored his company and his personality.

We stayed up until the small hours, chatting and gaming. As a result, we both overslept on Sunday and my new sleeping companion awoke me with a fierce slap on my buttcheeks .

"Get up!" Scott demanded. "I need a piss and then breakfast." I smiled as I watched the naked footballer walk past me and descend the ladder. He flexed his buttocks as he walked, and I gave him a wry smile.

"And a blowjob?" I asked as he slipped from view.

"Of course. You shouldn't need to ask!" I didn't, really. My lips closed over the head of his meaty dick and tasted the remnants of his pee. He grunted as I worked his shaft with my hands and jerked his cock until he squealed, held the back of my head and squirted cum across my tongue.

"You'll be getting a lot more of that," he promised and threw an orange wrestling leotard at me; Martin had a cupboard of clothing at back of the summerhouse and he had located the Lycra garment from the rail. "Douche yourself too. Stick a butt plug in. After lunch, I have a job for you."

"What job?"

He licked his lips. "Your sort of job!" I did as I was told and dressed in the bright orange leotard. I had never worn it before, and it clung to my body like a second skin. The tight garment had a flap at the back to allow access to my butt and my mind sizzled as I imagined what Scott had planned.

After we ate lunch, Scott passed me my car keys and gestured towards the vehicle. "My mate is gettin' divorced," he said. "He's having a few guys round to have a few beers, and I said I'd bring some tail." I smiled at the description. He grabbed a couple of bottles of lubricant and a handful of condoms from Martin's several stashes around the room. "You don't mind, d'ya?"

"Nah." Scott waited until we in the car when he asked again. "I guess you want me to suck a bit of cock and get fucked. Much like being in the summerhouse. I would have had a party yesterday, but that never happened, as you guys didn't play and Martin wasn't around. Just a replacement, right?"

"Yeah," Scott muttered with a grin. "Just a replacement."

The three bedroom terraced house was in the middle of a council estate in a nearby town. I had to park my car in the shared car park and walk through a narrow alleyway to get to the venue where Scott's colleague lived. Scott did not know how many men would come to the party, and how many would want to have any sort of fun with me.

A couple of teenagers on bikes laughed as I walked through the estate. Broken glass was on the floor and I could see a Police car parked in a bay opposite. It was not the nicest of locations.

Scott's friend was a thick-set man in his late twenties. Black T-shirt, black jeans and the biggest belt-buckle I had ever seen, combined with a scowl was not the most welcoming of introductions. "Cal, this is Jon."

"I thought you said you'd bring some skirt, Scott."

"No, I said I'd bring some tail. And I have."

"I ain't no fucking homo." He ran his hands through his spiked hair and his eyes bore into my friend.

"Hey, you liked Iain sucking you off."

"A blowie is a blowie. You don't care what's wrapped around your cock when they can suck that good, d'ya?"

"There ya go. He's my mate. He's bi and he has a bird, but he gives blowjobs and gets fucked. He'll give you a good time, I promise. Stick 'im in the downstairs bedroom. He'll get used."

Cal snorted. "You know too many fairies, Scott. What's wrong with bringing a slag."

Scott grunted. "Cause after what's happened in the last few months, I thought that you'd had enough of loose women."

Cal's expression softened, and he opened the door to the lounge. I saw a couple of threadbare sofas and Scott entered. "Get a beer," Cal told Scott, and he pulled on my arm when I went to follow my friend. "But not you." He gestured for me to go straight ahead, into the kitchen and then through to a utility room and finally a tiny single bedroom. "This is your room."

"Right," I muttered and put my car keys, condoms and lube from my hands on the bedside table. The single bed was pushed against the wall and Cal had decorated the room in bright pink children's wallpaper. He stared at me for a moment and then unbuttoned his massive belt buckle. "If Scott says you suck cock good, then let's find out." He said nothing as he sat on the bed, his knees spread apart to show his small dick perched on his shaven crotch.

Not that I cared; I gleefully wrapped my lips around Robin's tiny member and enjoyed every moment of bringing Ashfield Rangers's fourth-choice striker to orgasm. Cal had a meaty pair of balls, loaded with cum, that I was going to enjoy emptying. I ran my hands over his firm chest and he instinctively removed them. "Just suck the cock. Don't touch me," he snapped aggressively.

The power in his voice caused my dick to bulge in the tight leotard. The domination of his action as he rejected me was a tonic. My lips curled around his thin, small cock and I buried my nose in his hairless mons, sucking gently as my lips ran up and down his smooth shaft. It hardened under my spell, and he closed his eyes. He grunted as I bobbed on his cock. "Oh yes!" He squealed. "Oh shit! Oh fuck!" He groaned and cried as my lips worked on his dick.

He was a dominant, forceful, aggressive man. Masculinity coursed through his veins, and he needed to feel in control. My fingers touched the insides of his thighs and he jumped in shock.

I sucked the end of his cock and ran my tongue underneath his foreskin. My mouth bounced on his prick and I tasted his pre-cum. The musky, bitter fluid mixed with my saliva on my tastebuds as he squealed and cried louder and louder.

"Fuck yeah, I'm going to come, baby. Oh shit. Oh fuck, Ahh, fuck." He squealed and swore as his fingers gripped on the back of my head and his hips pistonned into my mouth.

Cal face-fucked me. He impaled his cock into my mouth and jack-hammered his dick into my skull. My cock leaked into my singlet. I couldn't help myself as drool dripped from my mouth onto the floor.

His cock slid over my tongue and flicked the back of my mouth as he drove his dick into me. Cal grunted, and without warning the first intense taste of his cum landed onto my tongue and against the back of my throat.

Wave after wave of cum from his pulsing cock jettisoned in me as the pugnacious man orgasmed. "You're some cocksucker," he grunted. His first compliment that he had made to me and bathed in the glow of his climax for a moment.

Then he pushed me from his cock, pulled up his trousers and left the room. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and sat on the bed, covered in a scarlet pink duvet. A few moments to get my breath and the door to the room opened.

Shaved headed, grey stained sweatpants and a skin-tight dark grey long-sleeved shirt. His brown eyes lit up when he saw me taking deep breaths on the bed. "Cal and his mate said there was blowjobs in this room. I t'ought he was kidding."

He towered over me, and I reached for the cord on his tracksuit bottoms to free the bulge in his trousers, when he flicked them clear.

"Turn over, I want some tail."

"Condoms and lube are there," I said, and gestured towards the bedside table. He said nothing as I reached through the flap and removed the butt-plug from my douched backside, and sighed as I knelt arse-up on the side of the bed. Waiting for him.

He unfurled a condom over his dick and squirted lubricant over his fettered member. I hummed as his firm rod poked my rosebud and he applied gentle pressure.

"You like this?" He asked.

"Yeah," I muttered. He snorted and rammed his cock a little further into my butt. He gripped the side of my waist for leverage, and then he put his tracksuit covered leg on the bed.

The man pushed his dick deeper and deeper into me, lighting up my horniness. His angle of entry smashed his dick against my prostate, and my submissiveness sparkled as he wantonly fucked me. Pleasure radiated from my groin. Warm, delicious erotic pressure swirled across my body, and tingled every nerve in my flesh.

He forcefully screwed me. His leg muscles thrusted his prick into the depths of my butt and our flesh slapped as he ground his meaty prick into their prey. I panted. Pre-cum dripped from my cock as the unknown man plundered my backside and left me groaning and squealing.

But his commentary was filthy and humiliating. I was "a fucking slut" and a "disgusting homo." A "cheap faggot," a "nasty piece of shit" and a "weak sissy cum dump." Every panted insult was a delightful sizzle on my lust. I loved it and wetness darkened the front of my orange leotard.

He unloaded with a grunt, dumped the condom in a waste paper bin on the side, and left the room wordlessly without acknowledging my presence. I was there to be used, and I had fulfilled my job.

I used some tissue to wipe the excess lubricant from my butt and had sat down on the bed for a few moments when a trendy metropolitan man entered the room; he looked like a student with his youthful look, slight build, quiffed black hair, fitted bright red trousers and fashionable top. His lack of confidence radiated, and his trembling hands closed the door with a slight grimace.

I heard cheering from behind him - perhaps it was related to the football match, or maybe related to their acquaintance stepping into my chamber. I smiled at him. He didn't smile back and froze in the centre of the room.

I reached forward to touch his belt, and he looked away from me, sliding his trousers and underwear to his knees. His dick rose from a forest of hair, and I just gripped the base of his prick to slide his foreskin back. He inhaled sharply as my lips touched his dick.

Sapid, musky, sweaty. And raw. His prick oozed with an aroma of male exertion that I wrapped my tongue around. He gulped as my hand pumped the base of his dick and my mouth worked his sensitive cock head.

His eyes were closed; he refused to watch my passionate oral servitude on his male organ. My left hand slipped underneath his hairy balls and I stroked his perineum.

He squealed as I brought him towards orgasm. Panted, and groaned as his a tingling, explosive climax swept across his body and his cock pulsed to leave a delicious treat on my tongue.

He scrambled to leave the moment he opened his eyes. Muttering a "thanks" as the door closed, the sudden realisation in his post-nut clarity that a guy had blown him had left him with feelings of shame or confusion.

I had a break for a few minutes. I could hear cheering and arguing voices from the other side of the house, and I suspected a controversial moment of the football had delayed my next visitor.

Mid thirties, white T-shirt with a punk rock band's logo on the front and faded, slightly dirty jeans. The rugged man held two bottles of beer and passed me one as he entered and closed the door. "I guessed you'd need some fluids," he said in a Brummie accent. He kicked off his steel toe-capped leather work boots and pulled his white shirt from his body.

My eyes noticed a tattoo on his left flank and lingered. "It's a nautical star," he said and picked up his drink. "But in Pride colours."

"So you're ..."

"As bent as a nine pound note," he replied and clinked his drink bottle against me. "Bottoms up!"

"Of course," I said with a broad smile. "Although you must take your jeans off too."

He laughed. "You're eager!" Moments later, he was naked, except for his black socks, and his dick was stiffening in my mouth.

He wanted a fuck. When his prick was hard, he pushed me onto the bed, slipped a condom over his long, thin member and drizzled lube into my hole, that he worked into my rosebud.

And then, as I was panting, he pressed his dick against my opening and applied pressure. I offered no resistance. He pressed down on my hips so I collapsed against the bed, and he followed me, so his entire body was against my back. His weight pressed down on me, his hands gripped my wrists and his ankles held my feet to the thin mattress. And his cock buried in my butt, as he gyrated his hips. It felt glorious; he was in total control.

I felt his warm breath on my neck and his smooth skin against my back. I was helpless as he fucked me. My cock rubbed against the mattress as his dick pounded into my hole and he made me as a grunting, drooling, horny mess.

"You like that, don't you? Slut!"

"Mmmm," I squealed, as he rhythmically and sensually screwed by backside. My back arched as much as I could, my flesh tingled and my dick felt ready to burst.

So much friction was against my cock from the erotic screw. He knew exactly how to make me gasp and drip. He knew how to excite me and leave me gasping and groaning.

His hot panting rippled on the back of my neck and his groaning as he plundered my body filled my eardrums. I heard him moan loudly, and his thigh muscles pressed against my buttocks quivered and his cock pulsed.

Then he kissed the back of my neck, gently arousing and softly done. My cock stirred once more, as he rubbed his body slowly over mine and blew gently against my neck. "You're so sexy!" He whispered, as his cock slipped from my butt.

He dismounted me and sat on the bed, gesturing for me to sit beside him. His arm slipped around my waist and his right hand took my cheek and pressed my face into his.

A kiss.

After everything I was there to do, a soft, sensual embrace was not what I expected. I panicked at first; my heart rate and hands trembled, and then it eased. My cock stiffened once more, as my lips and body became electrified by his dominant embrace.

I felt like a concubine as his tongue massaged mine in our passionate clinch. His body manoeuvred mine into a cuddle, and he groped my buttocks as he pulled me on top of him.

Animalistic and lewd, his hands rubbed my body as his legs wrapped around my body, and his uncontrollable kissing left my body throbbing with expectation. "I'm a bottom too. Take me."

"I've only ever been a top twice before," I admitted, thinking of Andre and Martin.

He gulped, and I grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his body. He smiled at me as our cocks rubbed together and I leant across to the bedside table to get a condom.

There was a knock at the door. "C'mon Robbie. How long does it take to fuck a shirt lifter? We all wanna go and you've been screwing him for twenty minutes. Get a move on."

Robbie panted, and fear became etched in his expression. I went to kiss him again, and he moved his face to look directly at the door and acknowledge his mate walking into the room. "Fuck! Hey Andy!"

Andy stood still and stared at his colleague and then me. "We're you going to let him fuck you? Are you a faggot or something?"

I reached underneath our bodies and positioned his bare cock at my open hole. "No, I'm fucking not, Andy," he lied and groaned as I slammed my body down on his stiff dick. "Shut the fucking door!"

"And pass me a condom," I called and was glad I could roll a johnny down an erect cock without looking. Robbie seriously enjoyed the audience as we fucked once more, and I gave his well-endowed colleague a blowjob as the gay switch filled a condom for the second time.