Turkish Delight

He tells his mate something in Turkish. Dan's masseur looks at me, gestures a hole, penetrating it, then hands swiping away, 'no way'. "Verstanden," he says. He's got the message.

Now the other message to convey. "Alles anderes -- das geht ihm gut."

The guy fondling my man understands. Anything else: he'll like it. He confirms this to his mate, who extends his sweeping a bit more up my legs as I open them wide, so he'll see all the soft back of my balls and that. Some strokes happen to brush over there, not being careful to avoid the area. It's so good.

I don't really care what happens -- we're just being pampered in this wonderful warm relaxing place, dim light twinkling, some candles in coloured glass jars scattered about, seeing as the sun's gone in, and I feel good, my hole all delightfully stretched from last night. I'll be having a great night of sex back at the hotel no matter what. Way better than that hostel in Norway with the hard beds, or the Oslo hotels where we were too tired after our hikes round the place for more than a brief shag.

I'm told to turn over on my back. He puts a token white wet flannel over my dick, which just highlights that I'm starting to get a bit firm there. More massage, no oil, just rubbing my damp shiny skin, pressing and pulling, and moving to my head. I love a good scalp massage, and may as well make it clear, so I don't hold back on the purring noises and moans as he lifts my skull to stretch out my neck, then works on all those sore wee muscles in the top of my neck and where it joins my shoulders, all proving I've been working too hard recently. By the time he's finished on my cheeks and chin, proving I've been clenching my jaw again, I feel like a new man.

I give him my biggest grin and thank him. He holds up one finger -- 'not finished' -- and strokes ever so gently down my chest, giving me a tingle. He reaches the cloth on my cock.

"Finish? Or, you want little more?"

"Of course. If you like."

He's sort of just tucking the towel in, unsure of what he wants, so I add, "I can do you, too." His mate is translating, but with where I'm looking and how I'm showing my tongue and licking my lips, it's obvious what I'm offering.

He nods, casts the wee cloth aside, and kneels down to get his fist comfortably round my suddenly-stiff cock.

Dan's looked half-asleep for a while, but clearly at least one eye was open as he calls over to me, "Ya big fat dirtbag!"

"Aye! And you love me for it. Cos you's one too."

"Yeah. And?" To his masseur, he goes, "Same for me, please."

His guy's got a bit more humour as well as language. "You suck me, too? In that case, yes."

He lets his little shorts fall to the floor. My guy glances up from where he was about to bend his mouth round me, mutters some question, then pushes his own shorts down and tosses them into a corner. They'll get soaking wet, but that's not really a consideration.

OK, this is heaven. Both of us relaxing, nude, skin all clean and soft, being fondled by two fit naked guys who want to suck our cocks.

The room is warm and peaceful and we've nowhere else we need to be, not today nor even tomorrow. The chap with his firm hand on my dick smiles, proper eye smile, hint of mischief with his big black eyebrows, and puts his mouth to my foreskin.

Some manipulating my velvet-soft skin round his mouth and he's pulling it back, my cock shooting out from its tight casing as soon as it has that wee bit of help, straight through this stranger's lips onto his hot wet tongue, and he knows how to curl his tongue round the base of my head while he holds my cock still; wide and wet his tongue is, my tip hitting the top of his mouth, and it's all good.

Sometimes I think I have preferences for how I like being sucked off, but such plans never survive contact with the enemy; any time I'm getting blown, that's how I like it. In this case, wet, powerful, all round my head and just beneath, and a strong hand holding the root of my prick still so the guy can keep doing what he's doing, his stubble scraping me perfectly. That tiny edge of pain that spices up pleasure.

I think about trying to hold back, restrain myself, then I spy Dan arching his head back and it's beyond any control I could be bothered with -- I'm erupting lazily into this stranger's mouth, drawing in deep breaths of the humid air. Most of my cup of jizz falls out of his mouth, covering his face and much of me.

Dan's watching, of course. He loves looking at me with men. As soon as the flood of my cum washes down my thigh, he reaches over to scoop some up, holds it high above his face and pours. Some gets in his mouth which he swallows in delight, the rest splashes over his cheeks and chin. Some runs down his arm; he raises his arm to his mouth and licks it up, making eye contact with his guy as he does.

It couldn't be clearer: he is one dirty bastard who loves men's jizz all over him. His man comes to stand closer, clearly not quite believing his luck, until Dan's sat up, bending over, and taking an impressive amount of the guy's good thick cock into his throat, with the filthiest little happy noises as he slurps and swallows.

I look back at my guy with a 'told you' face. He stumbles as he rushes to lie down on his back. I kneel between his legs and enjoy the scent of his meat for a moment. The general soapy steamy smell means I haven't been able to get that proper man aroma until getting my nose within six inches of his reddish-brown shaft. Stumpy but stocky cock, widening at the base like a pyramid. It'll do nicely.

God, I just love sucking cock. Getting thick male flesh filling my faggot throat, near-choking on it because I'm that desperate to have a penis deep in my mouth. That salty tang, the traces of piss in the rough skin over a cock-head, always knowing exactly how disgusting going down on someone is, yet loving it anyway...

And this new partner of mine who knows exactly how much of a disgusting slut I am and doesn't just love me anyway; he loves me partly because of it.

I nuzzle Stumpy's pubes and lick that ridge under his head, lots of little laps, all rough leathery skin, warm in my mouth. He likes it, little grunting noises. I bet most times if he obliges punters, they don't reciprocate, which is just a bit rude if you ask me. Not that anyone did. He's tasty: meaty and woodsy and sort of sweet with the salt; hint of his cigarettes.

That wide base is my aim. I line up my throat straight and sink straight down. Having to stretch my lips apart isn't something I usually have to do, but I'm having to push them out round him, he flares out so much. Like an extra-safe butt plug, and I'd better not think of how he'd feel up my bum or I'll be spunking over this guy's legs, which given what he did a few minutes ago would be quite the achievement for a guy nearly forty.

I'm almost choking myself on him, getting light-headed and turned on by that, because I'm a sick bastard. I can feel the stretch in my jaw; just as well he just massaged it. He seems hardly able to believe what's happening, flailing his hands over my damp hair that's falling over my face, but accepts it all enough to finally shoot his hot cum at my tonsils, gasping as it falls back all over him, gravity meaning I can't swallow most of it.

I wipe him off a bit with my hands, then smear a handful of the thick cream over my mouth. Dan glances over as I'm doing it, so I hold out my fingers for him to lick clean. Habit. My massage guy groans and his cock jerks with an aftershock. It's always hot, seeing proof that other guys like your taste.

Dan and his mate have finished, all neat and efficient and Dan's licked the platter clean, as it were. Drinking the guy's semen down like it's a health tonic. A couple of the small washcloths and water, and we're all good. Grand. I suppose we could push this further, do more, but the lads are looking a little shy and I'm starting to get a bit peckish...

Dan sits beside me, still beautifully naked. He's practically simpering in my ear, "Now I'm all amazingly relaxed, no tension at all, I want to take you back to the hotel and our bed. Maybe another quick kebab for tea, first?"

The boy has the best ideas. The guys make us put towels round just as we go from the main room back to our clothes, and we shake hands in quasi-formal fashion, not expecting to see them again. They make a brief attempt to entice us to the one's father's carpet shop, but then show us where we are on our map, under a mile from the hotel. We'll be passing that kebab joint.

So we try something else from their menu, light, not too greasy, and get back to our hotel.

"I'll hit the shower," Dan says with a bit of embarrassment as he grabs his toilet bag. I suppose he does have spunk all over him, not to mention a bit of sweat and that potent soap.

He's taking a while, but he always does. I'm just thinking I might join him for a quick rinse when i hear a loud moan.

Almost his happy whimper from a good wank, only it's too loud, so I worry he's hurt himself and I rush in.

He's perching on the corner of the bath, feet inside, looking a bit shaken. I guess he'd slipped and stumbled.

"You OK? Nearly fall over?"

"No? Why?"

"You sounded... Something unexpected?"

The boy blushes, hot pink. It always shows, he's so pale normally.

"What?" He doesn't answer, so I join him as he gets back in the shower, nicking the hose off him.

He's fondling me as usual, but not looking me in the face. It's not just because I'm getting a faint outline of pecs from his dragging me to the gym, either, I'll wager.

I take him in my arms. Hoping he's OK. He's clearly antsy about something, though.

"What's up? What's wrong?"

He laughs, and slicks his wet hair back, then mine, off my face.

"Nothing's wrong. Seriously, nothing."

"Then... Whaa'?"

A pinch of the embarrassment comes back. He turns around to face the wall, silent.

Is he bruised?

No.

He looks his normal pink self. I run my hand down his wet back, seeing as he's there.

Then I notice it.

I squeeze his pert arse with both hands and he gasps, shuffling his feet a couple inches wider, which is about as much as he can in the bathtub.

Oh, man.

Between those tight little buns I love is a tell-tale stripe of scarlet plastic.

He's done it. He's managed to accept a butt plug up his wee afeared arse. I remember seeing the thing at home, hidden under his clutter in his drawer, making no comment. It wasn't a big plug, probably less around than my average cock, but hard Perspex is always more of a challenge.

"Mmm. That's beautiful. How do you feel?"

He scoffs. Then admits, "Bit light-headed, actually."

It's gonna be emotional, getting able to cope with that sort of stuff again. While my chap may be pretty well-adjusted, he's hardly going to admit he's near-tearful from successfully fucking his own arse.

Which is something I'm now gagging to see.

"Aye, well, not surprising, that. Let's get you out of here. Come on, here's more towels." I step out first, take his hand, towel him off with the dry one, let him do his hair because I'd struggle to reach. I pick up the other white fluffy towels and choose the least-damp to wipe myself with. My hair's not too wet, fortunately.

He's still standing by the basin. Shock?

Oh, of course. Solid plastic cock up his tight arse -- he'll have felt it fucking him as he lifted up one knee, then the other. Hopefully it was good, as well as shocking?

"Mm, my sexy boy," I purr at him. "You like that feeling, that toy in you? Putting a bit of stiff plastic in your arse like a dirty wee slut?" I take him in my arms as he stands there, my chest to his, our dangling cocks touching. Keep him in the present. "Yeah, you clever boy..."

It's enough to remind him why he did it. Been trying a few times, I bet. There's a slow smile creeping over his face.

"Yeah... Been wanting to copy you... You're such a filthy bad influence on me..." He pulls me to one side so he can go back to the bedroom, taking little steps 'cause every one will be shifting that thing stuck up his bum, pressing where he's not taken anything in eight or so years. He's sort of liking it, sort of trying to resist remembering feelings he doesn't want to remember.

I get him onto the bed, all white fluffy bedding all round him.

It's a damn good start for not being like a situation with bad memories. I'm snuggling up to him, stroking him, but I need his brain on board, here.

"Yeah? What is it you've been wanting? Have you plugged yourself before? I remember you saying you had good times, taking it, in Derry. What was the best time you ever had? Tell me..."

He stills, and I worry. Then he clearly relaxes again, having thought of a story to tell.

"OK. So. Once upon a time. Are you sitting comfortably? It was back when I was getting together with Phil. We'd fucked a few times, but I was still playing the field -- hardly like I was planning a relationship in the Army!

"I'd mentioned I was planning on having this other guy. Nick, his name was. Cute, wiry." He considers. "Probably a bit like you'd have looked at twenty, only dark hair."

"And English." I've mellowed a lot in my life, but comparison to a British soldier doesn't sit right, still.

Dan blows me a sarcastic kiss. "Scottish, actually. Glaswegian. So, y'know, accent not totally unlike..."

I'm not sure if he's just making this bit up to get me hard, but let's run with it: young dark me from across the water, assignment with young tarty him...

"Go on."

"Right, well, it was a Saturday night, so half the guys are on duty, possibly more for some reason. The rest are all down in the bar and that. No-one's going to be doing their laundry, put it that way, so me and him sneak down the laundry room in the basement, put some towels in a dryer for plausibility and to make some cover-up noise, rumble, rumble, rumble...

"So once he's rubbed his cock against mine for a bit, we've got me bent over the side of the warm dryer, kecks round my knees, me squatting a bit. Ah, he was always good, like, lubing me up all nice and thorough and sliding in nice an' sweet... Slow, he was, always slow and sliding..."

It's clearly a fond memory. I'll happily do slow and sliding, any time, if he'll let me.

"And then the door opens. Nick's got his jacket, trying to hide me or at least hide what we're doing, I'm going beetroot, but then I realise -- it's Phil. In full uniform.

"And he's playing it. 'As you were,' he goes to Nick. 'Keep it up.'"

"You must have been fair scunnered!"

"Hm? Nah, not embarrassed, actually, once I realised it was him and I wasn't about to face a court-martial or anything! That was the first time I realised I liked being watched, I think -- I mean, I had been, few times, drunk with a few mates, but never really noticed them, y'know? Phil just stands there straight, like when he'd be doing parade inspection, hands on his hips, staring. Nick goes 'yes, sir,' and managed to keep going -- respect, there!

"And Phil comes up to me, lifts me chin with one finger and goes, 'I'm feeling dirty, Private. You'd better get cleaning me,' -- he gets his cock out, right by my mouth, so it's right obvious what he wants, and he goes, 'That's an order.'"

"Oh, man!"

Dan knows I appreciate orders from a man in uniform. I've seen his drawings of Phil, too. The man was well hot.

"Oh, yeah. My about-to-be boyfriend's cock in my mouth, my mate all nice up me arse? Yeah, that was a good night..."

"Mm. Well, we've had a grand afternoon and the night is yet young..." Having a tiny bit of tact, I don't add, 'and you've managed to get a dick-sized toy up your arse for the first time in however long.'

"Yeah." He shimmies on the sheets, all naked and adorable. He's wriggling himself round the plug, I realise.

"Getting used to it?" He doesn't know how gorgeous he is, writhing like that. Me seeing him penetrated for the first time, all filled and liking it.

"Yeah. I guess. Never really used one, not since I was in training college and got access to the real thing."

"It doesn't have that same give, true. Good, if you're wanting to feel it hard in certain places. But if you want it just firm and filling, then cock might be better?"

It's an unsubtle hint; I doubt if he's anywhere near ready for the real thing, but Christ, I'm only human...

He gives minuscule nods, stroking along my side with one finger. "It might be, at that."

My heart jumps, that he wants it. Of course, probably won't get that far today, must manage my expectations, not like he won't feel beautiful doing me, as usual...

He turns into his side, facing away from me. Then reaches his hand round, and twists the plug, slightly. I grab the lube we've left on the bedside table and add a bit more on for him, pushing it onto his tense little ring as I kiss his back.

"Ta." He shakes the toy from side to side, the bright red like a cartoon tongue, jutting out obscenely from his sweet pink arse. He's liking it, the vibration, but it's hard for him to reach, so I put my hand on the thing instead, and judder it gently from side to side.

He moans. Burrowing his face in the bedding, he's loving this. So much happy sensation where he hasn't had it for so long.

I move the plug in wee circles, up and down, and he's starting to arch, to push himself onto it. It's like he's rusty, doing an action I've never seen before, but his sweet arse coming up to me is suddenly the hottest thing I've seen in my life!

I can't tell you how much I want it.

Can't tell him, either.

I try an experiment, holding the flange and pulling the plug out of him just the tiniest bit. And back. He practically sucks it back in, and it's me moaning now, just looking at it. I do a little more in-and-out with it, feeling that resistance of his ring and how it's starting to open easily, welcoming the plug back in where it belongs. Eagerly, even. He's thrusting towards me and this thing up his arse, and it's obscene and it's beautiful.

I'm spellbound, playing, when Dan proves how exactly eager he is by yanking the plug out and chucking it across the room. He's glaring at me, and growls, "Go on! Get a fucking rubber on your fuckin' cock and get fuckin' fucking me, will ya?"

Obviously, I comply at top speed. We've joked for months, reassuring him I'm not putting my cock anywhere near his hole until he's properly screaming and begging for it, but I think this qualifies.

It's not enough for him, rubbing his dripping arse on the sheets, smearing lube all over as he fingers his own hole, muttering, "Fuckin' hell, come on!"

"Language," I admonish him, slathering an ocean of lubricant all over my cock.

"Fucker."

"Let's see what we can do, eh?"

He's on his back, some of the duvet under his waist raising him up. He's all pink and aroused round his hole, so I get myself between his legs, tugging his leaking cock a few times so he's as hard and desperate as I am, and I try to aim for the right place, spreading his cheeks wide so I can get as deep as possible. Slow and gentle, that's what I'm going to give him, all careful as can be.

He breathes hard when I touch his hole, but he's not panicking. I keep talking, coax him open with my fingers, remind him who he's with. "So gorgeous, love, Just me..."

My tip's getting just inside him, feeling so good. I'm just preparing to push slightly in a totally controlled way, holding myself back, when he makes use of those muscular long legs he's wrapped around me. He takes a deep breath, then slides himself down onto my head as he exhales.

He's so hot, so tight, but he remembers what to do, it's coming back to him. He's opening himself just enough to get my rock-hard cock inside him, and he's done it: he's happily taking a man's dick like the total queer gorgeous talented gayboy he is.