The Summerhouse Ch. 07: Iain

Thick, long, circumcised and veiny with a huge helmet. Wes had a very athletic frame, with thighs like tree trunks and a body definition that could rival professional athletes. It was no wonder that ladies threw themselves at him. His massive prick was just the cherry on a delicious cake.

Because he knew how to fuck. He knew how to make men and women scream and squeal. This was my treat as much as his. He inched his whopping cock into my relaxed hole. I gasped as he stretched me. I screwed my hands into fists and I grunted. He filled me up. He always filled me up.

No other cock that fucked me regularly was as gargantuan as Wes's. And it sent me wild.

The pressure in my prostate started moments before Wes had finished easing into my butt. His hands gripped my waist and his powerful thighs drove his tool deep into me. Slowly, at first. Gently thrusting into my stretched hole.

I'd prepared my arsehole. Two hours of wearing my butt-plug prior to their arrival was so my butt was ready to accommodate the victorious footballers, but it was still a delicious treat.

Wes screwed. His powerful hands pulled my body onto his thrusting prick. It slid over my prostate and caused my cock to leak. Pre-cum soaked into my feminine shorts as the alpha male rammed his dick into me.

My entire soul jolted with lust every time he slammed his meaty prick into me. I gasped and grunted with every thrust, feeling the impact of his cock against my insides. My crotch sizzled. My hips bucked involuntarily, my body shook as he rhythmically pounded my butt.

Febrile hammering of his dick into my willing orifice. Everything felt wonderful. The delightful, orgasmic feeling of stretching my hole and slamming against my prostate was a genuine pleasure. A delicious submissive haze fogged my senses as I felt every shot of erotic energy sparking from my backside sweep across my body.

Nothing else mattered at that point in time. I could feel nothing but the intense enjoyment from the rabid fucking. I was a slave to Wes's thick cock that pounded into me with such force.

The beast's dick pulsed and twitched as cum filled the condom teat. He grunted and snorted as I laid prostrate and gathered my thoughts.

I never knew who fucked my arse next. I was in a blissful daze, and I felt another man pull on the top of my waist and plunge their stiff tool deep into me. Plundering me.

When they finished, they were replaced again and again.

Scott tied a football scarf around my eyes and then guided a sizeable prick into my mouth. I couldn't know who was taking me. I felt the lubricant hit my hole before every dick slid inside my well-fucked orifice.

That's all I was to them - two holes for their pleasure. Losing my sight was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I felt everything. Every thrust into my backside elicited groans on the dick stuffing my mouth. Every drop of cum that landed on my tongue made my cock to leak a bit more.

They laughed and joked. They slapped my butt and slopped beer over me. It just made me more horny. I wanted them to do it more. I was just one of the team's fucktoys.

I recognised Phil's thick white prick as it slammed into me. I thought it was Tom's deodorant on the senses as a cock spasmed cum onto my tongue, as well as Ray's "100% Straight" dick sliding past my lips.

But I lost track of time and partners. I stopped counting as I just drifted into a submissive cloud and loved every second of their gay orgy. Lust consumed my body, and I orgasmed repeatedly, but nothing came out of my cock. Even as I worshipped the pricks in my mouth, and they slammed relentlessly against my prostate, every climax was dry.

I felt some movement around me. A hand touched my dripping prick and Scott's earthy voice whispered into my ear. "We have a little surprise for you," he muttered with a sadistic gleam in his voice. Hands unwrapped the scarf, and it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the harsh light. I barely felt the squirt of lubricant on my arsehole as I focused on the shape directly in front of me.

Also on a puffy, was my partner. Clare looked at me and held my hands in hers. She grinned. I smiled back. Anthony - with his chiselled features - stood behind her and carefully guided his manhood into my better half. Her eyes widened.

Vibrating wands, placed on the underside of my cock and the head of Clare's clitoris by voyeuristic footballers, were there to help us. Scott entered me. He laughed as he did so. "This is well used," he teased. "So well used." I didn't reply. I just stared at my fiancée as the athletic midfielder drove his meaty prick into her.

She may have had an afternoon of frolics and fucking, but she wanted more. I could see it in her eyes. She could see it in mine. We stared at each other as alpha men plundered our bodies. Scott's deep thrusts into me were amazing. Watching my partner get reamed was even better. Just like Richard had done.

I studied her expressions and listened to her groans. The intensity rose on the vibrating wand. My body raced towards a climax.

As did Clare's. We watched each other as they fucked us. Aided by the sex toys. Her pert breasts, moving with every powerful thrust into her cunt. Her face, contorted with an intimate, twisted pleasure. My mind, desperate to see her peak, yet subconsciously guilty that it was another man sowing his wild seed into my fiancée.

Deep down, I accepted Clare needed extra men. And I wanted to watch, hear and smell her climax as she rode Anthony. I rubbed her fingers as I ogled her fucking.

It was too much for her. Anthony's spearing prick had tipped her into a loud, screaming orgasm. She squeezed my hands as her body shuddered, and her head dropped onto the leather seat.

Scott's slamming against my prostate did the same for me. For two hours I'd been horny and waiting for this moment. It had been building through teasing, fucking and sucking. But as Clare watched on, my friend sodomising me was enough to tip me into a whole body climax.

I yelled as wave after wave ripped through my flesh, and cum poured from my prick and onto the leather seat. I panted, gasping for breath as Clare stared at each other. They turned me over and I lay in the sticky wet patch.

"Climb on," Scott said. "Let him eat that creampie!" Clare bit her lip as she looked down at me. She could the eagerness in my eyes.

My lips touched her hairless cunt, iced with Anthony's cum. His seed dripped from her well-fucked slit and gathered on my tongue. She loved it when I ate her out after bareback sex. My fiancee adored the feeling of her cuckold supping another man's creamy juices from her snatch. She writhed as my mouth swept over her slippery cunt, skating over her nub and swirling over her button.

A salty, sweet treat. A filthy act. A scrumptious, delicious present. A degrading and humiliating activity. Made worse by the leering for the surrounding crowd. Laughing at the eager, passionate attention I paid to my fiancée's scummy cunt. Gleeful at the erection the dripping cum had caused. They knew what joy this disgusting cuckold was taking from this sordid behaviour, and it entertained them.

I was proud to display my beta submissiveness. Every person in that room knew I was an acquiescent, slavish and dutiful floozy. I loved to have the firm prick of a stallion, or the wet slit of a mare, to play with and enjoy. I wasn't the only cuckold who had the sexual morals of a wanton slattern, and it was my filthy wench-like sex drive which gave others a good time.

Clare gasped and panted as the soft sweep of my tongue against her cunt scooped the piquant ooze seeping from her slit. I flicked her sopping button and teased the whorl of her backside with my mouth, gliding across her intimate areas with glee.

Her resolve cracked. I felt her quivering thighs pressed against my body as I sucked gently on her clitoris. Taking her to the edge, and her umpteenth climax of the day. She squealed. Her thighs shook as her orgasm rocketed through her, and the last of Anthony's cum landed in my mouth.

Her hot breath whistled over my prick, still covered in cum from my climax. She would not touch it. Nobody would. Clare climbed off of me, and Scott looked directly at me. "I scored a goal today. I have one more thing to do."

I groaned at him, waving his cock around, and without warning a short blast of piss hit the very top of my lip. "Open Up!"

Truly disgusting, and yet my dick stiffened. "Let me help you," my diminutive fiancée called, and took his prick in her hand. She laughed as she guided the semi-stiff manhood to my open mouth and watched as Scott filled it with his watery pee.

I know he didn't empty his bladder. A few mouthfuls and nothing more completed my humiliation, and I washed the taste of Scott's nasty waste from my mouth with a half-a-pint of beer.

"That was pretty special," Scott muttered as he saw the state of his boyfriend and Martin. "We should get everyone together again."

Victoria looped her arm around the black beast of a coach. "What you think, David? Shall we do it again?" She winked at her favourite bull. He nodded, reached down and scooped up Martin's wife, carrying her out of the door and towards the hot-tub.

"I'll go see if she needs a hand," Clare muttered and almost ran after her friend, leaving four of us to clean up the mess from the orgy.