Rage Against the Latrine Ch. 27

He unfastened his trousers and he unhooked them from his waist. I smiled at the sight of his potent thighs and tight blue briefs with a crammed pouch. The room teemed with tension, and my hands reached out to his shirttails. I rubbed the front of his well-stocked underwear. He grinned as my fingers slipped under the elasticated waistband and pulled the garment to his knees. 

An almost hairless mons with a thick, uncut, veiny prick rising from the stubble. His semi-erect dick screamed for my attention, and Adam suggested we get onto the double bed. Marcus knelt on the duvet, as my companion arranged me on all-fours in front of our stranger's member. 

Adam's fingers touched my hole, and I felt the cold, slippery lubricant ease him inside. I relaxed my muscular ring, enjoying the soothing anal intrusion as I took Marcus's chunky cock in my mouth, sliding my tongue over his retreating foreskin.

As I suckled the pre-cum out of his erect prick, he mewled. He had a mighty weapon - over seven inches long, and twice as thick as Adam's manhood. He filled my mouth, touching my gag reflex, and I was only two-thirds of the way down his shaft. Too big for an inexperienced cocksucker, like myself, to swallow completely.

I slobbered over his prick, desperately trying to concentrate on fellating Marcus's dick as Adam lubricated my rosebud. One finger became two and then three as he prepared my backside for plundering. I felt the mattress move, and then Adam's fingers withdrew. The tear of a condom wrapper came before the rounded head of a sheathed cock pressing against my anus. 

I groaned as I relaxed the muscles once more, feeling my companion's dick glide into my butt, and touch my prostate. My loins tingled and twinkled as my fuckbuddy ground his prick into me, slapping his thighs against me, and propelling me deeper onto Marcus's slick member.

Adam and a stranger were spit roasting me. Engaged to be married to an award-winning rock star, and I was in a budget hotel in the early hours being slammed by two pricks. And I loved it. I adored the submission of my situation, and that I had meekly surrendered my body. I slavishly sucked Marcus's prick and my arousal sizzled as my erect cock swung wildly with every thrust into my backside.

I wanted to taste the cum from the receptionist. My eyes focused on the stranger's manhood. I took as much of his sizeable dick as I could as my lips stretched over his shaft. My tongue tasted and worked his ridged sensitive spot, as pre-cum oozed onto my tastebuds.

"He's a gobbler," Marcus muttered. His cock stiffened, and he held the back of my neck as he emitted a long, groaning sigh. My mouth felt the jerking of his dick and I tasted the first jet of cum on my tongue.

And another, and another. I swallowed as his cock pumped the musky, bitter goo into me. 

Adam increased his rhythm. He pulled on my thighs, burying his prick quicker and deeper into my butt. He panted, groaning as he quickened his pace, slamming deep into me. 

And then he smashed his twitching dick into my rectum as his body weight rested on my lower back. He fell against me, grunting as his prick filled the rubber condom. 

I felt empty as Adam withdrew his cock from my hole, and he smiled when I looked over my shoulder at him. "Turn over," he said, and as I moved, he spoke to Marcus. "Do you want to blow him?"

"I don't gobble," he replied. My companion grinned as he knelt over me, taking my stiff cock in his lips. I loved Adam's blowjobs. The fellatio he gave me in the Lake District was incredible as his mouth swirled and twisted over my glans. 

My dick sparkled. I was already on the edge from Adam sliding over my prostate and the wonderful sensations of sucking Marcus's cock. I barely lasted thirty seconds before I smashed past my point of no return and flooded Adam's mouth with my cum. 

I panted on the bed, seeing Marcus pull his tight blue briefs to his waist. "Thanks," I said to him. He smiled as his thighs became reacquainted with his trousers. Adam pulled the filled condom from his prick and looked directly at me as he held the latex cum bag in his hand. 

He dripped his semen from the sheath onto my black T-shirt. "You look like the slut you are now," he chuckled as the viscous liquid splattered across my chest.

Marcus snickered at my expression. "You bastard!" I cried as the white drops soaked into the dark cotton. Our guest left our room, and Adam and I cleaned up. We stripped and fondled each other in the bathroom before we climbed into bed. 

I noticed Marcus's phone, wallet and keys on the desk, and when I mentioned this to my companion, the playful exhibitionist leapt from under the duvet, grabbed the valuables and sauntered out of the door, completely naked. 

He returned twenty minutes later with a smile on his face, and I didn't ask what he had done. I sort of knew, and his hand caressed my thigh as we drifted to sleep. 

We woke when Adam's phone loudly vibrated. "Hello?" He sleepily muttered. "It's eight thirty."

"Hiya, bro!" Natasha's voice woke me from my slumber. 

"What is it? You OK?" I asked, panicking that my pregnant fiancée had called. 

"I'm fine," she replied. "Fucking awesome. Faye got up, so I wanted to check in with my favourite brother and his weekend bitch." I blushed as she spoke, and Adam switched the messaging call to video chat. He balanced his phone on the duvet as I sat up in bed and he waved at his punk rock sister. 

"We're good. Aren't we?" He put his arm around me, squeezing me into him. "That cruising bar on Warren Street is just amazing. It's the best place in the world, isn't it?" 

I blushed and nodded. "Did you have fun? Cut loose?" she asked.

Adam answered for me. "Of course. How many guys did you suck off? It was a few, wasn't it? That black guy, and the skinhead and..."

"A few," I interrupted as my fiancée smirked at us. 

"Fucking nice one. Good to be free. But Bro, don't you go turning another of my boys? Gary only started dreaming of a gay master after you kept coming down and taking him to all those male sex clubs!"

Adam chuckled. "I can't help it if your boyfriends think I'm fabulous. Although, he is pretty tidy himself. If I didn't have Joseph, I'd wrestle you in a pit of crocodiles for him! He's too innocent for you, anyway. I need a few weekends to corrupt him."

Natasha scoffed, and I saw the naked body of Faye enter the room behind my partner. "You better go," I said. Faye grabbed my fiancée's legs, roughly parting them, and the call abruptly ended. 

"My sister is such a nympho," he added with a chuckle. "Always has been."

"She says that about you."

He smiled. I made us both a drink from the kettle, and we talked. I didn't realise how homophobic his dad was, and the religious aggression he faced as he discovered his sexuality. He recounted a handful of tales from his youth.

"He reckoned that if I rejoined this outdoor adventure group run by the church, I wouldn't have time for boyfriends, so I was eighteen and we went camping in Coniston. In my tent, there were five other guys. I had blown them all by the end of the first night. Male hormones in overdrive meant they just wanted to empty their balls. They all called me a 'fag' until they needed to bust a nut, and then I was their best friend. That was a long weekend, and I'd never had so much sex." He chuckled as he remembered the trip. "I came home, and Dad was all smug and said that good wholesome pursuits take my mind off lust and sin. He had no idea how busy I'd been!"  

"Bloody hell!"

He recited many similar stories, and there was a nasty undercurrent to his accounts. I knew my parents would not have cared if I had come out as bisexual or gay to them, but Adam's father objected and censured his youngest son. "It's why I had to go to Uni, although Dad wouldn't help me out financially unless I went on a Christian Conversion Therapy course first and I wasn't doing that. Mum helped me, but Dad didn't. In the summer, I got a job for this holiday company and I was in Crete one year, and Cyprus the next. Just to avoid going back to Windermere. And when I had to, I rowed so much with him. I could never have a boyfriend without him losing it, so I ended up in Joseph's flat before too long!" He grinned.

It felt cathartic to talk to him. His only girlfriend in his life was the daughter of a family friend at the church, who horrified her parents when she declared her lesbianism. "So, they thought we would turn each other straight, and we went along with it for a while. She's a teacher now in Manchester at some high school. Married too. And like me, still as bent as a duck's dick." He chuckled. "But for three months, it was the only time he laid off the bullying."

He recalled plenty of childhood tales about my fiancée, and he asked about my background, too. I explained about Samantha and my job, and I freely told him everything. We had spent two hours talking, and Adam and I were the last of the guests to arrive for the hotel breakfast, eating just before the end of their sitting. After food, we wandered into the city. My weekend fuckbuddy wanted to go to a specific market, and as we perused the stalls, he selected a pair of lightweight camouflage shorts and T-shirt from the vendor. 

"You need something too."

"Like what?" I asked. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he replied, not answering the query. "Somewhere magical." He explained nothing and selected an old England football kit - white shirts, shorts and socks. He also bought us both a pair of cheap beach shoes.

We had lunch in a greasy spoon and travelled back to the hotel; I had a little backpack, and he put our purchases in that. The venue near the mainline station was at the bottom of a set of steep stairs. It smelt damp and musty, with slate grey walls. Adam walked in front of me, pushing the stout swing door open.

The small room was a quarter of the size of the club the night before, and the unforgiving aroma smashed into my nostrils as we stepped into the space.

Adam had brought me to a very busy piss party. A makeshift bar on the left served a variety of drinks, as 1980s disco classics played through the tinny speakers. The room was full of all ages and sizes of men; many were naked, but others wore sportswear, military dress, construction clothing or kinky outfits. 

I felt overwhelmed as I digested the scene; over eighty guys crowded into the intimate space. At the back, a large inflatable bath, where three men were kneeling in the tub, and I saw another couple emerge from a private room.

We changed into the outfits and beach shoes Adam selected from the market, and put our day clothes into the backpack, which we stashed into the coat check. Two pints of beer from the bar were quickly drunk as I watched the debauched scene unfold. 

A thin man in his mid-thirties, wearing just tight white underwear, approached us. His warm, apprehensive smile and youthful hair made him look like he was uncertain of what he was about to ask us. The nervous guy gripped his drink as he introduced himself. "Hi," he muttered, leaning against the wall and staring at Adam with his deep brown eyes. "Charlie. You dom, sub, or versatile?"

"Sub," my companion replied. "A bit vers, but normally sub." His smile flickered, and he gulped his drink. "I remember this place from a couple of years ago. Hardly changed!"

Charlie and Adam chatted; I listened to it as I surveyed the scenes in front of us. Charlie's perversion was that he loved wetting his clothes, and he outraged his last girlfriend, who was not aware of his kink or bisexuality, when he revealed his fetish. I felt blessed that my partner was so open-minded as we conversed.

"I need to go," he muttered.

"Me too," Adam replied, and I followed them as they walked through the orgy. He stopped in the corner, groaned, and with both of us watching him, the white cotton material grew darker. 

Liquid tumbled down his legs as he urinated in his tight briefs, publicly wetting his clothes. I felt my dick harden as I watched him humiliate himself. Adam pulled the waistband of his underwear and viewed the flow of pale yellow piss arch from his small, erect nub and against the sodden fabric.

With his left hand holding the elasticated strip, my weekend companion fished his prick from his pants and gestured me to do likewise. Charlie sighed as we pointed our cocks into his underwear and unloaded our bladders, splashing his cock with our piss, and saturating his tight briefs, so it tumbled down his thighs.

"Do you want a blowjob?" Adam asked, and the guy nodded. My fiancée's brother grinned at me, pulling Charlie's soaked underwear to his mid-thigh. "Go on then, piss slut! Suck 'im off!"

I knelt in the puddle. His prick reeked of urine and the slippery dick tasted of harsh urea. His small thicket of pubic thatch smelt musty and dirty, and my lips sucked his sodden cock.

He groaned as I fellated him, giving him oral as Adam played with his nipples. My tongue flicked his sensitive spot as I easily took the length of his shaft into my mouth.

He squirmed as I gave him head. He had engaged in his fetish, publicly wetting and humiliating himself, before two more guys had debased him by filling his pants with pee. His overactive lust could not resist the stimulation and he grunted as cum rose from his balls and he fired it onto my tongue. 

I washed his musky, bitter seed down with another pint of beer; the bar did a good trade, given that most people aimed for hyperhydration to replenish their bladders and after we had sunk a further drink and spoken to some more patrons, Adam and I wandered over to the large paddling pool.

Puddles of cloying piss covered the navy floor of the tub, with four men kneeling or lying in the inflatable. I looked at my fiancée's brother, who grinned as he grabbed me by the waist and threw me against the low sides. "In we fucking go!" He cried.

We tumbled over the side, landing on the inflated pouch and in the disgusting patches of pee that sprayed as my body bounced on the cushion. Adam landed on top of me, scattering the pools of urine and covering us both in splashes of piss. 

He wrestled me. His hands pinned me onto the floor as we grappled and scuffled, knocking into the other occupants of the inflatable. The attendees stopped to watch us as we played in the wastewater, and as I held Adam to the ground, two men urinated over our bodies. 

Harsh, acerbic, nasty liquid flowed from the surrounding cocks, covering the six people in the pool. We only ever got a minute's break as several of the attendees liberally splashed their piss over the pigs in the bath.

The pee was a harsher, more intense flow than what I received from my fiancée and the band. The bitter, acidic liquid made my eyes water as it splashed through my hair and face. But I felt horny. Natasha had wired my dick to respond to the smell and taste of urine and Adam's constant touching, as well as the piss-soaked environment, left me aroused. 

I saw a man take a cock up his arse, and receive a pee enema, and several guys drank straight from the spigot. It was a raunchy, depraved, Sybaritic event that I would never have attended if my weekend fuckbuddy had not brought me. Adam and I swallowed mouthfuls of bitter pee, and I kissed and stroked Adam as we wallowed in filth.

I enjoyed exploring my bisexuality, but when it came to watersports, I massively preferred my female domination piss play. Adam might have detected a slight reticence in my body language, but I didn't object to any of the golden showers or depraved humiliation. I did not have the same overenthusiastic verve I had at the cruising bar on Warren Street.

We left the pool and dried in the warm room. When our clothes were no longer sodden, we collected our belongings and wandered through the city hand-in-hand, still wearing the garments we had soaked with piss. I knew we smelt revolting in the warm sunshine and Adam deliberately wet himself as we ambled through a park as we returned to our hotel to shower. 

For dinner, I took Adam to a smart restaurant I knew. It didn't have the fabled Michelin star, but the food was incredible, and I happily paid the bill. I'd enjoyed my weekend with my fiancée's brother and, after eating our meal, we walked along the Thames, before stopping for a drink in a trendy wine bar in Covent Garden. When we returned to the hotel, he fucked me. 

It felt natural to be buggered by Adam, and our slow, sensual fuck was delicious. He stroked my prostate as we kissed and our chests rubbed, before we both unloaded.

I woke at 8am and we wandered down to the food hall in our underwear and dressing gowns, getting looks as we visited the buffet that catered for breakfast. I felt a little guilty about the last twenty-four hours, and so I messaged Monika to see if she was free. I needed to reinforce the heterosexual side of my bisexual sexuality, and I sought some dominant female company.

Joseph and Adam were staying in our hotel bedroom from Sunday for two days until they returned to Cumbria, and so I left my suitcase in the room and met the teenage dominatrix at a central London cafe. She grinned when I told her about my adventures, but I could tell there was something on her mind. She was troubled, and when she didn't want to talk about it, I took her to her favourite store to look at more underwear, promising to buy her an outfit. 

The insatiable minx had me around her little finger, and I adored the control the women in my life had with me. She couldn't decide between a gossamer pale pink lingerie set, or a sheer lacy black babydoll and G-String. The young woman stood outside the changing rooms, looking in the mirror in the classy underwear, and she asked me to photograph her in the dazzling brassiere, briefs and suspender belt. The bra held and exhibited her bosom perfectly, giving her a deep, enticing cleavage, while the diaphanous bottoms were revealing, seductive and utterly beguiling.

There was a near-pornographic quality to her black, see-through negligee, and I ogled her lustfully, photographing her as the nightwear left little to the imagination. "I like you in both," I told her, holding my credit card aloft. My stiff cock demanded it. 

"You can't," Monika sighed, and checked the price tag on both garments. "I have to choose. You will not buy both of them for me. They are both too expensive and you are too generous. Especially when you get horny." I didn't care, and while she dressed, I paid for the pair. She glowered when the sales assistant took the clothing and wrapped them up. "I said you weren't to spend that on me."

"You can punish me at a later date," I teased and the young salesgirl glanced at my friend with a grin.

"I will!" Monika replied. She sent the photos of herself in the store to Natasha and her sister. I had no secrets with my fiancée and the teenager excitedly flaunted her new underwear to her family.

We walked back to the Underground station and travelled across the city to Monika's residence. She kissed me on the lips when we arrived at her housing block. "Come in," she offered with a wicked smile. "I have some spanking to do."

We had a cup of tea in the shared student kitchen, and she spoke to some of her friends. The Agent Provocateur lingerie came out of the bag, and the two women cooed over my gift to my favourite teenage dominatrix. They teased me, and once we had finished our drink, Monika led me into her single bedroom.

"Get undressed," she demanded and pointed to the en-suite. When I reentered her room, she had sat on the bed, in just the negligee. 

The hem of the nightwear rested on the tops of her thighs as she gestured for me to kneel in front of her. "How much have you spent?" She spat; her voice felt harsh and angry.

"Four hundred and ninety pounds," I muttered, and her left hand grabbed my nipple and twisted it painfully. I yelped as her right palm slapped me across my cheek.