Note from author: This story applies the adage, 'write what you know'. And of that I'll say no more... Except maybe to add that the London Horse Fair is a real event, inspired by its German counterpart.
This story describes bisexual, gay, and group sex activities and, so, should that not happen to be your thing, please feel free to move on, continue with your day, and pursue other more worthwhile endeavours. Truly, there is little of value to be discovered here. Otherwise, enjoy :)
The queue stretched around the building, snaked across the square, in through the lobby, and then down into the basement. I'd not expected this, I'd not imagined that this many guys - 50, perhaps more - would sign up for this. But now, waiting in line, the thought of what that might mean, what might happen after entering through those doors: my chest began to canter, lope, and then race.
Wait.
Hit pause, then rewind.
This isn't me. I wasn't looking for this. I stumbled across this place, this event, on a random Friday night. And, yeah, I was surfing porn. Nothing to be ashamed off there. Nothing strange about that. It's something we all do and so you know precisely how it goes.
Friday night, date night, movie, takeaway, and snuggling up to Sarah on the couch, trying to warm her up against the blue-white flicker of the TV screen. Sarah is against my neck, her hand on my thigh, just tracing the space between my knee and my hip with the straight of her finger. The scent of her hair, the arch of her neck, the smooth curve of her shoulder. And she's leaning into me, sipping at the Prosecco I bought on the way back from work. Leaning into me, my hand on her hip, my lips against her ear, it's been three and a half weeks and I'm needing this. Leaning into me, and the shift of her body suggests that she might want it too.
Then, 'Later,' she says, with a smile, as if it is no thing, and turns back to the screen. But she doesn't stop me, my hand against her stomach, under her top, and then stroking the round of her side-breast.
Credits rolling and I'm still kissing her neck, her shoulder, her cheek, tasting the corner of her mouth.
'Baby, can we do this tomorrow - I'm beat.'
Crushed, and she is pulling away and I know that she can sense it.
'I'll make it up to you,' she says with a stretch and yawn. 'Promise.'
And then she's gone, her feet against the staircase and the creek of bedsprings from above.
And me, down below, channel-hopping but finding nothing but static and white noise. My iPad against my lap, Facebook to Instagram to Twitter, doomscrolling until my right eye begins to ache. Then opening the browser to Reddit and its all downhill from there.
I begin with the straight stuff, and it's enough to get me hard, but it turns out that there is only so much cock that Tina can take before I begin to tire.
So I move on from Tina to some group action. Only, oh, look, it's still Tina, except now she's been joined by Cindy and, as fate would have it, Tina enjoys both pussy and cock. All of which being part of life's rich tapestry, I guess.
From there to serious group action. Three no longer being enough, I'm moving on to foursomes, moresomes, gangbangs, and full-on fuck-fests. Debbie may well have done Dallas. Turns out that Tina is more than capable of doing Darlington with most of Durham thrown in. Which leads me to the seriously twisted shit, cuckold, creampie clean-up, forced sissification, and, from there, we're practically a tiptoe away from full on man-on-man fucking.
And I know what you might say. That all this seems a little too convenient. That this all seems a little too rehearsed. Like, maybe - just maybe - the straight stuff, the threesomes, the foresomes, the moresomes, the fuckfests, all of it was designed to tease our way to this: man-on-man fucking.
And you'd not be wrong. I've been here before. Many times. And that Friday, like every Friday, had the force of gravity, destiny, inevitability.
Which requires a clarification.
I'm not queer.
Not that there's nothing wrong with being gay. Some of my good friends are gay.
I'm kidding. Although, yeah, some of my good friends are gay. Rather, it's 2023 and I've zero problem as to whether someone is into cock or pussy, cock and pussy, ass and pussy, in whatever permutation. It's a wide and glorious world and there's plenty of space for us all.
But it's just that it's not me. I'm not queer, not gay, not homosexual, I'm just not put together that way. Except, if we ignore for a moment that fact that actual men are fucking on the screen clutched against my chest, and if we overlook the fact I'm stroking like a crazed thing.
But seriously, I'm straight. I swear it. Down to the bone.
You get it, right? You know the score?
Sarah, upstairs and out for the count, and I'm down here, balls turning blue. And you know how it goes. I'll take what I can get, and I'll get it where I can find it.
But I digress.
I'm there, lit blue from the light of the LCD screen, I'm right there. Troy is choking on cock, a finger in his wet boy-hole, and he's groaning like a fucking whore. And I'm waiting for Brett to take him by the hair, bend him across the couch, open him up and pound him balls deep. And I'm imagining what it might be like to be Troy, in that moment, and I'm fucking hard, I'm fucking dripping, I'm fucking close. Because it doesn't take much imagining.
Except there is the banner, just beneath the video, pulsing in violent neon.
London Horse Fair.
Three words framed by hooded twinks, heads tipped down, hands bound before them, sweat slicked, muscles rippling, compliant.
I click and the link takes me through to an events page and the events page takes me through to a portal selling tickets at £15 a head.
The Horse Fair, and the entire idea of it just seems implausible. That anyone would sign up for something like this. That anyone would want this.
I've done threesomes - two guys and a chick. One time I got to watch two chicks go at it, and Heather - she was a friend of a friend - then sucked my cock while the other girl watched.
'Not fair to keep a guy hanging,' she said, with practiced magnanimity.
But this, this was a whole other thing, both improbable and unlikely, this was pro-level shit. The kind of thing I would never consider, not even for a moment. The kind of thing no one would ever want.
Except, I'm flicking back, I'm scrolling, I'm studying the photos, and I'm harder than solid rock. I click on the events calendar and see that there is a Fair scheduled for two weeks time. And I can feel it, a pressure build and then race towards something like release. I hit, 'More Info,' and, as I do so, I swear, I cum with the force of a hurricane, spewing hot sticky jizz up across my chest, onto my shoulder, and over the back of the couch. Just the thought of it, enough.
But it was just fantasy shit. Not the kind of thing I would ever do. Not the kind of thing I would ever consider for real. Except...
