The Holiday

He licked and kissed and encircled my cock with his tongue for many minutes, and then he was reaching under my ass and probing it with a finger, and I was dying for him to fuck me. His tongue was that of a virtuoso. He was making me feel kinds of pleasure I'd never dreamed of. He parted my thighs and put his face between them and licked me, his tongue dragging over my shaved perineum, and I whimpered, "Oh, Jesus, John, oh please, fuck me, please..."

"Hasty," he whispered, and he took my balls in his mouth and his tongue brushed them. "Oooh!" I sighed, my voice breaking slightly, and he pushed into my anus with a finger. I squirmed, desperate for him to enter me, to really fuck me, to really make me his the way the others had. He pushed at my buttocks a little and I eagerly rolled onto my stomach, but he merely parted them with his hands and dragged his tongue over my sticky anus, still smeared with other men's cum. I rubbed my face into the sheet and went "OOOH! Oh god! Oh yeah! Oh please, now, please, John, please..."

He kept doing it, licking my arse with his tongue, hauling on my cock, snuffling with his face between my naked buttocks, and then I felt his tongue pushing into me a little and I was so agonisingly horny I clenched my teeth and groaned "EEUUNNH!" into the sheet. I was practically weeping with desire. John seemed to be feeling it, too, for he moved up from my ass and his tongue stitched a line of kisses up my slender back until he was at long last mounted on my naked hips, his cock sliding easily between my greasy buttocks.

He kissed the back of my shaven head and I moaned as he slowly, sensuously worked his long thin beautiful cock into the tingling, pulsing socket of my arse. I lay on my belly, pierced by John's penis, and I wanted nothing else than to be there at that moment, feeling that. I was making indescribable noises as he eased his cock in and out of me, fucking me long and slow and hard and kissing my face as he did so and murmuring in my ear about what a fucking sexy bitch I was. I came, to my amazement, half-weeping and half-laughing beneath him, and he dabbled his fingers in my still-warm cum and smeared it over my face as I made guttural moans and slobbered onto the sheet. Then I felt him cumming deliciously inside me and I was wonderfully satisfied and content.

He pulled out of me and got off me, and I curled up next to him and purred with pleasure. I was only then realising how exhausted I was. Apart from the fact that I'd had sex five times - which for me was totally unprecedented with anyone - it had been with men. The emotional intensity of it was more draining than the physical exertion. I had allowed them to turn me into a panting, whimpering ass-slut.

"I don't know anything any more," I murmured sleepily as John cradled me in his arms.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"I mean, am I straight, am I gay, who fucking knows. That was the most amazing night of my life. But I know that next time I walk down a street, I'm gonna be looking at the girls' asses, not the guys'."

"Hey, it's your choice, sweetie," he chuckled and patted my bald head. "Nobody's making you wear a boa and listen to disco. You work it out yourself. The rest of us had to."

I don't remember anything after that. I must have slept.