Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2013 09:15:44 -0300
From: Matthew David <matthew.david.david@gmail.com>
Subject: Beach Wedding Slave - Part 3
Author's Note:
This story is intended for people over 18 only. All characters are over
18. Please understand that although this story depicts unprotected sex with
multiple partners and/or complete strangers, such actions are unwise and
unsafe. Please always use protection.
Please send any feedback to matthew.david.david@gmail.com.
Beach Wedding Slave
Part 3
I awoke from my nap to a darkened room. For a second I was confused,
trying to think of where I was. I was laying on something uncomfortable
and rolled over to find the leather slave hood had worked its way under my
back. If the hood didn't refresh my memory, the slick wetness between my
asscheeks certainly did.
I checked the time, it was 8:46. I had to think about that for a
moment, still a bit groggy from sleep. I sat up in bed with a start - the
dinner reservation was for 9pm! Sleeping in seemed to be a running theme
for me today.
I pushed the sheets away and made my way to the bathroom for a piss. I
would never have enough time for a shower, I realized. I would have to go
to dinner smelling of sex, with a load of cum still wet inside me. The
door to the bathroom was partially closed, and hooked over the doorknob was
a jockstrap. Trent must have left it for me, I thought, he must want me to
wear it for our meeting tonight.
It was white, or at least it used to be white, and looked well
worn. I held the fabric up to my face to smell it and caught a wiff of the
unmistakable musky odor of a true man. The mesh fabric was stained light
yellow near the waistband and I could tell it was from both cum and piss.
A single dark wiry strand of pubic hair was stuck in the fabric on the
inside of the jock, in the spot where Trent's balls would rest. The
thought of this dirty jockstrap pressed up against my own cock and balls
was practically enough to make me bust a nut right then and there.
I slipped the jock on and took a moment to admire myself in the
mirror. The elastic straps were soft to the touch, yet still maintained a
good fit around my waist and legs. The pouch was a bit big, even for my
erect cock, but the looseness only emphasized the fact that I was wearing
someone else's dirty underwear. I turned around and looked over my
shoulder, admiring the way the jockstrap framed my ass. I had never worn a
jock before and was instantly regretting never owning one over the years -
I looked hot!
Unfortunately, I didn't have time to admire myself. I splashed some
water on my face and rummaged around in my suitcase while brushing my
teeth. The only pair of dress shorts I had brought were covered in cum, so
I wore the pants from the wedding ceremony. I pulled a polo over my head,
happy to see the collar covered the bruise on the side of my neck -
thankfully no one but Ryan had drawn attention to it so far.
When I got to the restaurant, everyone was already seated. I took the
last seat beside Ryan's sister Kim and we all toasted the happy couple on
their marriage. Over the next two hours I tried to focus my attention on
the celebration, but my mind kept drifting back to Trent and how he shot
his load up my ass just a few hours earlier while I was blindfolded with a
slave hood. I hoped my hardon hidden under the table was the only sign of
my distraction.
Once again, Felice's mother let us leave after the photographer snapped
a bunch of photos. Both Ryan and Felice's parents said their goodnights,
the rest of us decided to have a couple drinks at the discoteque, the
resort's on site night club. I made an excuse about changing into
something more comfortable, and promised I would meet up with them shortly.
In reality I was almost shaking with excitement about meeting up with Trent
again.
I really did want to change into something more comfortable, and
returned to my room. I picked out shorts made from a lightweight grey
fleece, specifically because of their 'easy access' factor - they were
quite loose in the legs and had an elastic waist that clung to my hips. I
paired it with a sleeveless tshirt with holes for the arms that dipped so
low they reached past my belt line. When I turned to the side, I could see
a nipple under the loose fabric, and when I lifted my arm I could see the
top of the jockstrap showing above my shorts. I hoped Trent would like my
choice of clothes.
I left the room with my hardon tenting in my baggy shorts. The jock
was too loose around my dick to hold it down, but I suppose it was used to
covering Trent's huge cock and not my smaller member. I snuck by the
discoteque on my way to the snack bar, happy to see it was quite busy - it
would take Ryan and the others some time before they realized I wasn't
there.
I pulled up a chair at the same table I sat at last night on the
snack bar's patio. It was getting close to midnight and there were only a
few other tables with patrons, unfortunately none of them were Trent. I
couldn't remember the exact time we hooked up last night, and began to
worry that perhaps I had missed him.
I ordered a drink and sat patiently to wait. I was slouching a bit
in my chair and my hand was resting on my lap. I subtly began to fondle my
cock through my shorts under the table, I wanted it to be hard for Trent
when he arrived.
On my second drink I began to worry he wasn't going to show. By time
my third drink was finished I was quite confident I had lost my chance to
see Trent again tonight. I checked the clock one last time, it was almost
12:30 and I had been waiting almost an hour. I was disappointed and
wondered if this was the end of my holiday as a whore.
As I walked back to my room I passed the discoteque and remembered I
had blown off Ryan for a chance at getting my ass fucked. I felt ashamed,
but maybe they were still in the club drinking and dancing and I could join
them for a bit of fun. The crowd had thinned out considerably in the past
hour, and there were only about 10 people spread around the room -
thankfully Ryan was one of them.
"Hey man, where the hell have you been?" Ryan yelled over the music,
holding a drink in each hand. He was sweating through his shirt and I
could tell he was drunk, and the goofy smile on his face told me right away
that he wasn't angry with me.
"I went for a run," I lied, and Ryan nodded his head in
acknowledgement. He threw an arm around my shoulder and managed to splash
half of his drink down the front of my shirt.
"Shit... sorry, Matt," he practically slurred and I reassured him it
was nothing to worry about. He told me that Felice and Danielle had just
taken Jasmine back to her room after the bridesmaid had spent the past 10
minutes throwing up in the washroom. Classy, I thought.
He was leaning on me for support and started to tell me how great
married life was, launching into a story about Felice giving him a blowjob
on their balcony last night under the stars. I didn't want to interrupt to
remind him he wasn't a married man last night, but got distracted thinking
how Felice wasn't the only one sucking cock outside last night.
Ryan was slurring into my ear and I could feel his hot breath on my
neck. It was in the middle of him describing how beautiful Felice's tits
were that I felt a tap on my other shoulder. I turned my head to see Wes,
Trent's boyfriend, standing before me with a look on his face that could
have been a smirk, or a frown - I wasn't sure.
"Your friend looks like he's had a bit too much to drink," Wes
yelled, barely audible over the loud music. I was caught off guard, I
didn't know what to say as I stood there with a dumb look on my face. Did
Wes know about Trent and me fucking around behind his back? Was he here to
start a fight? Was he going to say something and humiliate me in front of
Ryan?
Before I had a chance to respond, Kim came sliding up behind Wes,
carrying three drinks clutched to her chest. "That bartender is so fucking
slow!" she exclaimed, setting the drinks on the table beside us. "Matt,
you made it!" she beamed, and then turned to Wes and said, "Who's your
friend?"
Wes was definitely smirking now. He reached his hand out to shake
Kim's hand, "I'm Wes."
"Pleased to meet you," Kim said as she introduced herself, her eyes
sparkling with mischief. But then she caught sight of her brother and
quickly snatched the glasses out of each of his hands.
"I think you've had enough for tonight," she told him. "Are you
forgetting we're going on that stupid boat ride tomorrow with your
mother-in-law?" she scolded when Ryan looked at her blankly. "Right." she
said in disappointment when Ryan's only response was a burp.
"We should get him back to his room," I said, nervous about what Wes
was up to.
"I can take him back, you stay here with your new friend," Kim
teased, pulling her brother to his feet and putting his arm around her
shoulder. When I tried to help her, she pushed me away and said she could
handle it. Wes stood beside me, silently watching things unfold.
Kim offered us her drinks, and looked me straight in the eye before
pointing to her neck and then to Wes - winking to emphasize her point.
"You boys enjoy the rest of your evening," she said as she pulled her
stumbling brother out of the discoteque.
I was left there alone with Trent's boyfriend, feeling guilty and a
little ashamed, uncertain of what to do. Wes had taken one of the drinks
from the table and was draining the glass with several gulps. I took a
moment to check Wes out as he stood there in front of me. He was handsome
under the colored lights, his dark features angular and sharp. He wore a
tshirt and a short pair of shorts, the retro kind boys would wear for gym
class in the 70s. The brief inseam accentuated his muscular legs
beautifully.
Wes remained there silently, looking me over as he set his drink
down. Neither of us spoke for a moment and I began to fidget nervously.
Finally he said, "Let's dance."
He put his arm on my back and led me out onto the dancefloor. There
were few patrons left dancing and we had a corner of the discoteque to
ourselves. We began to move to the thump of the bass, at first dancing
with a foot of space between us. Neither of us spoke at first, and I began
to feel less apprehensive about the situation - Wes had not humiliated me
in front of my friends and for that I was thankful.
After a few minutes of dancing, Wes's eyes heavy upon me, he moved in
close and put his hands on my hips, pulling me into his embrace.
Instinctively I put my arms over his shoulders and behind his neck. His
eye contact was intense and I felt myself feeling aroused dancing so close.
"So I understand you've been fucking my boyfriend," he said into my
ear. There it was, the cat was out of the bag.
I leaned away from him and tried to come up with something to say,
some excuse to explain this was all just a misunderstanding - but it
wasn't, I had been fucking his boyfriend. Wes pulled my hips into his own
and I could feel his hardening cock pressed up against mine. I don't think
he's upset with me, I had time to think.
He leaned into me again and said in my ear, "Don't worry, he fucks
little sluts like you all the time." I was shocked at what was happening,
but my ever hardening dick demonstrated I was also extremely turned on.
Wes pulled back slightly once again to catch me in his intense stare,
watching for my reaction. Despite the heat of his body against mine a
shiver ran through me. I broke his stare by looking down and heard myself
stutter, "I'm sorry..."
Wes's laugh sounded like a bark, short and deep. He continued to
grind himself into me to the sound of the music, pushing me back towards a
darkened corner. The only other couple on the dancefloor stood making out
like teenagers, his hand sliding up the back of her miniskirt as they
danced. The other patrons were scattered around in booths or at the bar on
the other side of the room.
I felt my back up against the wall as Wes pressed himself into me.
His hands were still on my hips and I slid one of my own from his shoulder
up into his thick, dark hair. I pulled his face into mine and opened my
mouth to meet his lips in a kiss, overcome with excitement.
Wes allowed me to kiss him, long and deep. I hungrily explored his
mouth with my tongue, the passion of the moment overcoming my inhibitions.
As I kissed him I pressed my cock into his in an almost urgent desperation.
The knowledge that his boyfriend had fucked me just hours before made me
ache with lust.
Wes broke our kiss short and moved a hand from my hip to give my cock
a squeeze through my shorts. He maintained eye contact, watching me squirm
while his hand worked on my hardness through the fabric. "You really are a
slut," he said and I had nothing to say in disagreement.
He released my cock and slid both hands behind my back to feel my
ass. I leaned forward and brought my lips to his neck, tasting the sweaty
skin under his earlobe and savoring the feel of his hands fondling my ass.
Wes pushed his hands up under my shirt and then slid them down under
the waistband of my shorts. The jockstrap left my ass exposed and I felt
his hands against my bare flesh. He put fingers from each hand into the
crack of my ass and pulled my cheeks apart, exposing my puckered hole still
moist from being fucked. Before I knew what was happening, Wes inserted a
finger into me and it slid in easily thanks to the remnants of cum and lube
I had never washed away.
I moaned in pleasure, my head now resting on his strong shoulder. He
pushed back and forth into my ass a couple times and whispered in my ear,
"You like my finger in your pussy, boy? Your whore ass didn't even put up
any resistance. You're still wet from being fucked, aren't you faggot."
I couldn't believe what was happening. Here I was on the dancefloor
while some guy was fingering my ass in open sight of anyone who happened to
be watching. I was beyond caring, I was overwhelmed with lust. "Finger my
hole," I begged.
I spread my legs wider to allow his finger to slide into me deeper
with each jab. I began to protest when he slid it out of my ass, but Wes
interrupted and said, "Open your mouth."
It wasn't spoken as a request, and I immediately obeyed. He held his
finger up to my face and for a brief moment it caught the light, slick with
the remnants of the load deposited in my ass a few hours before. He
touched his finger tip to my face and traced the outline of my lips,
coating me with a film of cum. In the next heartbeat, he pushed his finger
into my open mouth and rested it onto my tongue.
"Suck," was all he said. But even before he spoke the command I had
closed my mouth around his finger and began to suck the salty taste of cum
from his digit. I swirled my tongue around and did my best to clean off
every remnant of my ass from his finger, gulping the shameful taste without
a thought of hesitation.
After a moment Wes pulled out of my mouth and whispered in my ear,
"You're a real filthy slut, you know that, faggot?" I nodded in agreement
and ended up banging my forehead against his as Wes pressed his mouth into
mine in a kiss.
This time his tongue assaulted my mouth, and the cum he had smeared
on my face was getting passed back and forth between our lips as he
continued the kiss. I was so fucking turned on right now, I would have
done anything to get Wes's cock inside of me.
He broke our kiss abruptly and stepped away from me. He reached
forward and grabbed my cock through my shorts and said, "Let's go. I have
something I want to show you." With his hand still tight around my bulge,
he pulled me towards the men's washroom at the back of the club - using my
cock like it was a leash.
The thumping of the music was deadened in the small washroom, and the
florescent light was blinding compared to the darkness of the dancefloor.
Wes pushed me into the only stall and followed me in, closing the stall
door behind us. I turned to kiss him, but he pushed me away and said, "Put
your hands against the wall."
I turned to obey, my feet on each side of the toilet as I leaned
forward to put my hands against the wall. Wes's hands pulled at the band
of my shorts and he yanked them down, exposing my ass beautifully framed by
the straps of Trent's jock.
I could feel him bring his foot up and hook it in the band of my
shorts, pushing them down past my knees. I lifted my right leg to slide it
out of the shorts, allowing them to fall to the ground around my left
ankle.
"Nice jockstrap," Wes commented and I could feel my face redden in
embarrassment. I arched my back and stuck my ass out towards him spreading
my legs further apart until they were against the walls of the stall. I
could feel cool air against my exposed hole and it twitched in
anticipation.
Wes slid his finger into my ass again, just as he had done on the
dancefloor. There was little resistance as I was still covered in lube
from earlier. He swirled his finger around and hooked it to press against
my prostate. I moaned in pleasure and begged him to fuck me.
He pulled his finger out of my ass and shoved it into my mouth, and
then commanded, "Shut up."
I let my tongue do the talking, and once again sucked the tangy
juices of my ass off of him.
"I am going to fuck your faggot ass," he hissed in my ear. "I am
going to breed you like the whore you are." He pulled his finger from my
mouth to unfasten his shorts, pushing them down to expose his himself. I
turned my head to get a look at his manhood and saw he was still wearing my
yellow and green briefs Trent had taken the night before.
His cock was hard and jutting from his groin stiffly, looking red and
angry in his excitement. His olive skin was contrasted with short cropped
pubic hair, his full balls resting on the waistband of my underwear
stretched over the tops of his thighs. He had pulled the front of his
tshirt up over his head and it was bunched behind his neck and arms like
the straps of a backpack. His chest was toned and he had a coating of
black hair over his pecs, a thin trail making its way deliciously down to
his pubes. How I would love to follow his treasure trail down with my
tongue.
He held his open hand in front of my face while he gripped his cock
with the other. "Get it wet," Wes barked, and I spit a mouthful of saliva
into his palm. He switched hands, coating his shaft with my spit as he
stroked his cock. His other hand pushed the back of my head into the wall,
forcing my face into the cold concrete.
I could feel his cock press against my asshole. He hooked his hands
into the waistband of the jockstrap on either side of me, pulling me
forward onto his prick. I felt the head slip past the sphincter and
shivered in pleasure.
"Yeah, that's right. Look at your greedy ass swallowing up my cock,"
Wes said, pulling harder on the jockstrap. He bucked his hips forward and
buried himself into me, balls deep. I gasped, the shock of his cock
entering me so fast caused my muscles to contract around his shaft. I knew
this intense pain would soon turn to pleasure.
Wes started to fuck my ass with steady strokes. "Take my cock,
faggot! You know you want it in your ass-pussy." His dirty talk was
making me hot and already I was beginning to enjoy getting fucked. Wes let
go of my jockstrap and slid his hands up through the loose arms of my shirt
to find my nipples. He grabbed them between his fingers and pinched, all
the while plunging his big cock in and out of me.
It felt amazing, I felt so hot and dirty being fucked in this
washroom stall. I began to stroke my stiff prick through the mesh of the
jockstrap, fondling myself through the dirty fabric.
Wes let go of my nipples and one hand returned to my hip, the other
dropped to his side. He fumbled around awkwardly for a second, eventually
pulling his phone out of his shorts pocket. He held the phone in front of
my face and slid his finger across the screen. "Check this out," he
whispered.
The screen flicked on and I immediately saw a cropped image of an ass
getting fucked. By the angle of the photo, it appeared as if the one doing
the fucking had taken the picture. I wasn't sure what Wes was trying to
get at showing me this picture, it didn't seem to mean anything. He
continued to plow my ass as his finger swiped across the screen and another
picture appeared.
It was the same couple fucking, this time the angle was a bit
different and the camera was held further away. I squinted my eyes to get
a better look and suddenly recognized the man getting fucked was wearing a
black leather hood... it was a photo of me!
My eyes shifted to the other figure, noticing his olive toned skin,
the black bush of his pubes pushed up against the ring of my ass. His
shorts were bunched just under his ass and I could see that familiar yellow
and green underwear peeking out from underneath. My confusion was overcome
immediately with the realization that it was Wes who had silently fucked my
ass earlier today, not his boyfriend Trent.
Wes must have recognized when I figured it out because he said, "This
is the second time I've fucked your cunt today." To emphasize his point,
he quickened his pace and plunged his cock into my wet butt a couple
times. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned to fucking me
in his regular, steady pace.
I was speechless even though my mind was quickly adjusting to the
fact that I'd been tricked. The fucking Wes gave me this afternoon was
perhaps the best I'd ever had, and the thought of him fucking my ass again
now just increased my arousal. I must have stammered something in an
attempt to acknowledge him, instead it came out sounding awkward and
confused.
"Cat got your tongue, cunt?" Wes laughed. "Your mouth is better
suited for sucking anyway."
He began to fuck me harder and I could feel his balls tightening
against my ass, indicating he was getting close to dumping a second load
deep inside me. I couldn't get over how amazing I was feeling right now,
today involved the most intense sex I'd ever had.
It was at that moment we heard someone enter the mens washroom. Wes
slowed his fucking to a snails pace and clamped a hand over my mouth to
keep my moaning quiet.
Whoever it was took his place at the urinal beside our stall and
started to piss almost immediately. My heart was racing, the thrill of
being caught was exhilarating and having Wes's cock buried in my ass with a
stranger literally a foot away was too much to bear. I was barely touching
myself, but my cock responded to my tremendous excitement by exploding in
my hand. Cum erupted from my dick's swollen head and oozed out through the
jock's fabric. I could feel the sticky wetness trickle down my balls and
drip down the inside of my thigh. Though Wes had his hand over my mouth,
the groan I let out when the orgasm hit me was loud and long.
The stranger had finished pissing and was now looking over the top of
the stall to see what was going on. There we stood exposed, Wes with his
cock buried deep in my ass while I straddled the toilet, cum dripping down
my leg. I met the stranger's eyes and recognized him from the couple that
had been making out on the dancefloor while Wes had been fingering my hole.
He stared with a blank look for a second before cursing, "Fucking
fags." My face flushed red in embarrassment, but Wes took this as his cue
to resume his assault on my ass. He plunged his cock into my cunt slow and
deliberate, and it wasn't until the third stroke that the stranger's head
disappeared and we heard him leave the washroom.
I felt his cock start to throb and knew he was about to bust a nut,
he had already been so close before we were interrupted. A second later
Wes shouted, "Oh fuck, I'm cumming..." He shot his seed deep into my hot
bowels. I could feel my gut grow wet as the spunk filled my ass over a
series of hard strokes.
Wes collapsed against my back, the sheen of sweat on my skin
dampening the fabric between us. Without warning he stood up, pulling his
cock from my ass with a wet sounding plop and pulled his shirt back into
place. He yanked his shorts back up, his slimy cock disappearing under my
stolen underwear.
"I know you'd love to suck my dick clean, pussyboy, but we should
probably split before that douchebag rats on us." Wes was already opening
the stall door and making his escape.
I stood there stunned as I watched him go. I was covered in wet
sticky cum from my own orgasm, and I could feel Wes's load dripping out of
my ass. Common sense got the better of me though, I didn't want to get
into trouble for public sex any more than Wes did. I picked my shorts up
off of the grimy floor and slid back into them and then quickly left the
washroom.
The discoteque was almost completely empty by this time. The only
patrons remaining were, unfortunately, the stranger who caught us in the
act of fucking and a few of his friends. I hung my head in shame and ran
from the club. I heard him shout as I left, yelling a single word over the
loud music - Fag! I wasn't too offended, it was true.
Outside of the discoteque Wes was nowhere to be seen. He must have
hurried off back to the room he shared with Trent. I didn't wait around to
investigate, instead hurried off back to my own room.
I had to catch my breath when I made it there. I practically ran
from the other side of the grounds in my rush to safety. I couldn't
believe it was Wes who had fucked me in the leather hood earlier today, and
our second fuck session made the memory that much more intense. It hit me
then how tired I was. I stripped down to the cum covered jock and lay in
bed for sleep to take me. I couldn't have been asleep long when I heard a
knocking at my door, if I had been truly sleeping the knocking would never
have woken me.
I got up out of bed and made my way to the door. Would it be Wes?
He must have decided he wanted me to suck his cock clean after all. I
adjusted my stiffening cock in the jockstrap before boldly swinging the
door open to greet my late night visitor.
I nearly fainted on the spot, standing before me wearing only a
tshirt and tight white briefs was the groom, my childhood crush - Ryan.