Date: Sat, 6 Dec 2014 16:51:53 +0000 (UTC)
From: Robert Furlong <robert.furlong@rocketmail.com>
Subject: The Halfway Inn Part 2

THE HALFWAY INN PART 2
by Robert Furlong
robert.furlong@rocketmail.com
robertfurlong.tumblr.com

===

I got on the bed first, kneeling down on the mattress and splaying my legs
wide open.  Seeing me like that, facing him expectantly with my cock
arching upwards, made Pete laugh again.

"Bloody hell, mate," he informed me, "you've got the biggest dick I've ever
seen – not that I've seen that many, mind!"

I beckoned him to get on the bed with me, and, as he positioned himself in
front of me, I noticed how large his feet were.  They were a good couple of
inches longer than mine; he must have difficulty finding shoes to fit.

To start out with, we knelt down face-to-face with our hard-ons pointing
towards each other.  Pete's balls were quite large and they hung down low,
while his cock was much smaller than mine but in no way any less excited.
The head of it had darkened to a deep purple colour and was slick with
moisture while the slit was really elongated, splitting the end of it into
two distinct lobes.  It was quite oddly shaped but attractive in its own
way.

He grinned at me as he shuffled towards me: he was enjoying our intimacy as
two very dissimilar men and was treating it almost like a game.

When our knees were touching and our erections were reaching forwards to
kiss each other, I gently worked the back of my plum-like cock head against
the underside of his unusual heart-shaped version.  I stimulated him gently
where I knew he was most sensitive, enjoying watching as a dribble of clear
ooze seeped from his long slit.

Pete, however, seemed rather less than impressed.

"Come on, then, Rob," he urged me, impatiently.  "What do two blokes do
with two knobs like this?  Kind of limits things, doesn't it?  Having two
cocks, I mean."

I laughed at the absurdity.  "Of course not, Pete.  The possibilities are
almost endless!"

He laughed back.  "But they don't exactly fit together, do they?  Or is
there something I'm missing?"

Almost certainly, I thought.  And not just the one thing.

I gripped my own manhood by the shaft and then slowly, giving him ample
time to object if he wanted to, put my other hand on Pete's and gently held
it.

I made eye contact with him to make sure he was happy for me to hold his
penis but he just gawped at me stupidly.  Then he grinned like a naughty
kid and made a few thrusting motions with his hips, comedically fucking my
hand and making his foreskin roll back and forth between my fingers and
thumb.

"Is that what you're on about?" he asked.  "I can do the same to you, if
you like?"

"It gets a lot better than that, Pete," I told him, trying to keep my
irritation out of my voice.

I grabbed our cocks more firmly and aligned them together so that their two
heads, so different in size and shape, were pressing together.  Then I
eased my foreskin forwards, first sweeping across my fattened helmet and
then rolled it further, until it covered a couple of inches of Pete's
smaller bilobed head.  I pulled it back, exposing the touching tips of our
members again, and then rolled it forwards a second time so that they were
covered once more.  I did this several times, developing a slow
masturbatory action as I used my foreskin to stimulate both our cocks
together, easing it backwards and forwards with our organs forming one
long, continuous rod.

Pete laughed at the sensation and worked his hips gently back and forth
again, this time matching the rhythm of my fingers, and announced that he
liked what I was doing.

"It's called docking," I told him.  "My foreskin's long enough to wank both
our cocks off together."

He laughed again.  "That's pretty cool, mate!  I had no idea you could do
this with two cocks!"

"Like I said, Pete, there are a lot of possibilities."

I pulled my foreskin back again, releasing both our cock heads, and this
time angled our shafts upwards against each other, so that the shafts were
back-to-back.

"Here's another," I said with a smile.  "I think this one's called
frottage."

I gripped our two cocks in my outstretched hand and gently worked our
separate foreskins up and down at the same time, wanking our two organs as
if they were really one much thicker shaft.

He grunted his approval and pushed his crotch as far as he could towards
mine, enjoying the sensation of being masturbated alongside another man's
larger phallus.

He muttered, "Ah, yeah!  That's nice, that is," and I worked my hand a
little faster up and down our paired erections.

Then he pushed himself upwards so that, in spite of his cock being much
smaller than mine, the tips of our organs were together, back to back with
their slits almost touching.  That way, our separate foreskins could work
together as one, rolling and unrolling across our paired purple heads,
looking like some weird double shafted organ, one stem much larger and
thicker than the other.

He laughed at the sight of our cocks being masturbated in unison.

"Anyone who says you and me's a couple of wankers, mate – well, they've
got a fucking point, haven't they?"

I chuckled at his lame joke and kept jerking our cocks together with my
fingers and thumb making an especially large grip.

"Are you enjoying this, Pete?" I asked him with more seriousness as my hand
beat us both off.

"Yeah, it's fucking choice," he agreed, working his crotch back and forth
with my hand.  For all his cock was much smaller than mine, he was very
imaginative at finding ways to stimulate it.

I kept wanking us together, my rhythm becoming faster and my grip more
firm, and we both pushed our cocks upwards to meet the pumping of my wrist.

"What did you say this is called again, Rob?" he asked, his voice betraying
just a hint of breathlessness now that he was getting into having me wank
him off.

"Frottage, I think.  Some gay guys have sex like this.  Those that don't
believe in using each other's bums."

"I thought all gay fellas bummed each other, though?" he asked, gently
panting as my hand swept up and down our shafts.

"Not all," I informed him.  "Some think bums should be just for shitting
through.  If you ask me, though, Pete, they don't know what they're
missing."

He chortled at that as the collective rhythm of our hips working back and
forth against the pounding of my fist became faster and harder.

"Me and my brother used to wank off together when I lived at home," he told
me through his quickening breaths.  "I wish I'd known about this – it
would've been great doing it this way!"

I smiled at him, enjoying how the bed was creaking with the rhythm of our
thrusting hips and my pumping forearm, and hoping that Mike and Anthony,
our colleagues in the next room, wouldn't be able to hear us.

"Have you ever spunked up doing this with another bloke?" he asked.

"No," I admitted.  "But it's fun to do it with a friend as part of
foreplay."

He nodded and I released us both, quelling his disappointment by telling
him I would show him something else.

I lowered my head down towards his erection, its pale shaft looking sore
and pink from where I'd gripped it so firmly, and gently applied my lips to
the end of it.

After a couple of tentative kisses of its odd-shaped head – during which
time I felt I was giving him the chance to pull away from me and tell me
that I'd overstepped the mark – I gently licked into the deep valley
which cleaved its tip into two parts.  Finding it pleasantly flavoursome –
having a recessed slit seemed to harbour the rich bite of his precum and
testosterone – I took a couple of inches of it into my mouth and gently
sucked the steady ooze of juice from its deeply grooved hole.

Only then did Pete seem to grasp the idea of what I was offering to do for
him.  Without further ado, he grabbed my head firmly and started urgently
ramming his cock in and out through my lips.  "Ah, yeah, that's more
fucking like it!" he growled, thumping his swollen organ back and forth
against the back of my mouth.

"Fucking suck me off, Rob!" he commanded, his thick pubic bush slamming in
and out of my eyes and nose and his bollocks whacking me against the chin
with every rapid thrust.

The bed started rocking with the roughness of his thrusts and he held onto
my head like a masturbatory aid, holding it steady while he brutally fucked
my slobbering mouth.

I let him pleasure himself for a minute or so, his hard-on slamming in and
out of my lips, as I reached behind him and gripped the flexing cheeks of
his arse as he bucked his hips frantically back and forth.

He kept muttering, "Ah, yeah!  That is nice!  That is fucking well nice,
mate!" and I hungrily sucked at his organ, swallowing the constant trickle
of dribble he was now producing.

When I suspected he might be building towards a climax, I struggled free of
his grip and pulled off his curving shaft with a loud, wet slurp.

He grinned at me gormlessly, his wet cock pointing upwards, and I grinned
back at him like this was all part of the game.

"I like it best when another bloke does it," he announced.

"You've been sucked off before?" I asked.  "By another guy, I mean."

He nodded unashamedly.  "A couple of times, yeah.  Just lads helping each
other out, like."

I wondered if it was as I thought: travelling buddies.  Or whether he'd
been more adventurous at university than I might have given him credit for.

"Did you ever suck anyone off in return?"

He shook his head.  "Naah.  The blokes I did it with were happy to... you
know... just do me.  'Til I was done."

I smiled and nodded.  Probably gay guys who were happy to assist a tall,
young straight lad at his time of need.

"Well, there's a lot more than that we can do together."

"Yeah?" he asked brightly.

I raised myself up on my knees and moved in towards him.  "This is how some
guys like to penetrate other men, Pete," I told him.

I squatted my arsehole over the head of his upright cock and let my own
press firmly against his hairy chest.  My fat, hairy bollocks – looking
far more full and swollen than they had earlier – hung down in front of
his wet cock and largely hid it from view, and I put my hands on his
shoulders to steady myself.

"You don't mind me showing you this?" I asked him, smiling down him.

He grinned back up at me.  "No – of course not!  It's
interesting... I've never done this with another bloke."

I smiled more broadly at him, and he basked in my approval.

"In this position," I went on, "I'd just lower myself onto your cock..."

I deliberately referred to his own cock: I wanted him to get used to the
idea that this was now about him that he might be about to penetrate me as
a fellow male.

I pushed myself down so that I could feel the slippery head of his organ
pushing against my puffy ring and then lifted myself back up a little.

"This way I could squeeze your nice, hard erection with my arsehole, Pete.
Or you could move your hips upwards a bit to work yourself inside me."

He grinned more broadly and jabbed his cock slowly but firmly against my
swollen entrance.

"Like this, you mean...?" he asked.

"Exactly, mate.  You're a fast learner!"

His eyes widened with gratification on hearing me say that.  I suspect
no-one had ever said such a thing to him before.

He kept gently pumping himself against me, working himself ever so slightly
into my opening, using my spit and the drool from his oozing slit to
moisten his way.

"How would you feel, Pete, about being joined to another man like this?"

"Joined?" he asked, not understanding.

"I mean, how would you feel about being connected to another bloke, with
your cock pushing up inside his arse?"

"Would it smell of shit?" he asked with some concern.  "I wouldn't like
that, mate.  I hate the smell of shit – it'd make me throw up."

I smiled down at him, amused by the irony of how worried he was given the
state he'd let the back of his underwear get into.  "It has a smell, but
not like that.  It's quite an erotic smell once you get you get used to
it."

"What sort of smell?" he asked, still apprehensive.

"A sexy smell," I offered, vaguely.  "A manly smell.  The smell of
male-to-male intimacy."

He nodded and seemed a little happier.  "In that case, it'd probably be
okay.  The way you put it – being joined and stuff – sounds kinda
weird but it could be cool to find out what it felt like."

I nodded as he slid his bilobed cock head past my puffy ring.  He was
gently thrusting himself upwards as I eased myself down onto him.

"It's way more than cool, Pete," I told him.  "It's incredible!"

He grinned back up at me as his precum-slick organ slid slowly but steadily
further up into my rectum.

"How do you think it would feel?" I asked him.  "To have your cock pushed
right up another guy's arse?"

He grinned more broadly.  "Okay, I guess.  Maybe a bit like fucking a
woman."

"Is that what you'd be thinking of?  Imagining me as a woman?"

He laughed at that.  "How could I do that, mate, when I've got your big,
fat donger poking into my chest!"

"Yeah, and my massive pair of nuts bouncing up and down on your stomach!"

He laughed more loudly and looked down, marvelling, at how well-endowed I
was.

Then he had a thought; a rare moment, perhaps, for him.

"I could suck you off while my cock's up your arse!" he declared.  "Your
knob's so big I could get my mouth around it!

I feigned a gasp of astonishment.  "Fucking hell, Pete, so you could!  I
can't believe you just thought of that!  That would be so amazing!"

He grinned at me again like he was proud of himself.

This really was as easy as taking candy from a baby, although far more
rewarding.

I grabbed my cock and angled upwards towards his face.  Without taking my
backside off the tip of his hard-on, my organ was long enough for him to
reach by stooping his neck.

"I think you're right," I exclaimed.  "I think you really could lick the
tip of it."

He leant forwards and cautiously extended his tongue onto inflamed head of
my upright erection.  He licked it warily at first, as if unsure whether he
would like it, and then, gaining in confidence and finding that it was far
more pleasant than he expected, became more eager to taste it and started
feasting on it hungrily like one would consume a melting ice-cream.

I smiled down at him, directing my large cock upwards into his mouth and
enjoying watching him, as a younger man, enthusiastically devouring the
ooze from my slit.  It was as if I was feeding him, perhaps even nurturing
his own virility, by letting him drink at the seeping fluid from my big,
swollen manhood.

"That's it, Pete," I said soothingly.  "Lick the dribble from my cock.
Drink it down."

He giggled as he nourished himself, lapping at my precum like a cat
luxuriating in a saucer of cream.

Then he looked up at me, grinning again, and I had the impression, for the
second time, that for him this was like a game.  If it was, I was more than
willing to play along.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" I asked with feigned
incredulity.  "You seem such a natural."

"No," he shrugged.  "When I've done my girlfriend like this, I wouldn't
have thought of doing anything like this to her.  I mean, she hasn't got a
cock, so I wouldn't have thought of sucking her off."

"Oh, right," I said flatly.

How else could one respond to such an observation?

I pulled myself off his cock with a small slurp from my distended hole and
told him I wanted to show him something else.  I asked him to turn around
so that his back was facing me and then shuffled up behind him so that my
cock was jabbing between his buttocks.

"This is my favourite position," I told him.

"When I was at school," he said, bending forwards compliantly to allow me
better access to his arse-crack, "when two lads were secretly doing this,
we used to say they were pegging each other."

I smiled at the use of an innocent-sounding term for such an intensely
intimate act between males.  It was the sort of word I could imagine my son
Jake using in his early teens when he had a mate to stay over; one which
sounded innocuous but would niggle afterwards as to its actual meaning.
("Would you two boys keep the noise down and get some sleep?" "But dad,
we're just taking turns at pegging!" "Well do it more quietly!")

"Did you ever get pegged yourself?" I asked Pete, pushing my hand between
the splayed cheeks of his bum and greatly enjoying the coarse, moist
hairiness within.

"No," he answered, pushing his backside further out towards me, apparently
intrigued by the sensation of having someone fondling his arse-crack.  "But
a lad in my class used to let some of my mates do it to him round the back
of the school kitchens.  He'd bend over and they'd peg him one by one
through their flies."

I smiled, wishing that 'pegging' had been so popular in my school.

"Weren't you ever tempted to join in?" I asked, running my fingers up and
down his cleft and appreciating the raised pucker of his opening every time
I passed it.

"Naah," he said.  "I thought it would stink of shit.  I've told you I can't
stand that."

I chuckled.  "Well, I told you it doesn't.  And you can trust me because
I'm an expert."

"My mates said it did and I believed them.  I must have been a bit stupid
back then."

Unable to stop myself from smiling, I extended my middle finger towards his
sticky, wrinkled anus and gently circled the tightly clamped muscle with
the tip of it.

"So this is a virgin arse you've got here, then, Pete?
Totally... er... unpegged?"

He chuckled at that.  "I suppose so.  Wouldn't have ever thought of an arse
as being virgin, mind."

I gently pressed my outstretched finger against his clenched entrance and
felt it yield to the pressure.  I slid into him up to the first knuckle,
marvelling at how hot and sticky he was up inside his bum.

He gasped and then turned to grin at me over his shoulder.  I pushed myself
a little further into him and he laughed, "Never had anyone finger me –
well, not this way!"

My cock was really throbbing now and precum was oozing from its fat, purple
head.  I wanted to rut with him and feel his tight, wet bowels squeezing at
my cock.  I wanted to hear him grunting as I pounded his straining hole and
for the room to stink so strongly of our exertions that whoever changed the
sheets in the morning would be in no doubt how the two male occupants had
been entertaining each other in the small hours of the night.

"I suppose you want to keep your bum that way?" I asked.  "Virgin, I mean?"

He shrugged and turned to face forwards again.  "Not especially.  I mean, I
never thought of it as being virgin before, so it won't bother me if it
isn't any more!"

I eased my finger a little deeper into him, feeling the muscles of his
rectum squeeze around it and smelling his pungent anal scent more strongly
than I had earlier.

"So you wouldn't mind having another guy pegging your bum?"

He shrugged again.  "I don't think I'd like it, but I wouldn't mind... you
know... giving it a go to see what it was like."

"We could maybe do a little deal with each other," I suggested, choosing my
words carefully.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," he said, as my finger teased gently in
and out of his opening.  "I thought you might... you know... wanna wank me
off with your arse like you said you could.  And then maybe I could try and
do the same for you."

"You'd be up for us doing that?" I asked.

He shrugged like it was no big deal.  This was easier than I might have
ventured even at my most optimistic.

"Like you said, Rob, it's just sex.  It's just two blokes helping each
other out when there's no women around."

"By taking it turns to bugger each other," I clarified.

He turned to look at me over his shoulder and threw me a deliciously
mischievous smirk.

"Exactly!"

I pulled out of him and almost winced as an intense waft of his bracingly
sharp bum-stink hit me from what was smeared along my finger.

Undeterred, though, I shuffled a little closer to him and pressed the large
head of my cock against his loosened ring.  I wrapped my arms around him
and groped for his erection, taking up a slow, gentle rhythm on it as I
pushed my organ against his rump.  With the other I fondled his heavy,
dangling bollocks, kneading them between my fingers and enjoying the silky
smoothness of his hairy scrotum.

"You might quite like the feel of it," I suggested, pressing my face
against the back of his neck.  "I do."

"I don't know if you'll be able to get it in, though.  You've got a really
big dick."

I smiled.  "You'll have to relax your bum completely.  Like you do when you
take a crap."

I hadn't expected him to try and comply with my instruction so
instanteously, but I suddenly felt his anal ring dilate against my cock
head and then abruptly he let out an involuntary fart.

"Oh fuck!  Sorry, Rob!" he exclaimed, laughing.  "I think I relaxed a bit
too much!"

"It's not a problem," I said, although I felt quite disgusted.  "These
things happen, Pete."

His arsehole opened up enough for me to ease the top of my cock head into
him.

"How does that feel?" I asked.

"Quite nice, actually," he said with some surprise.  His cock throbbed in
my hand, seemingly enjoying the sensation of its friend round the back
being slowly penetrated.

"Maybe you should have let your mates peg you round the back of the school
kitchens," I suggested.

"Maybe I should have!" he laughed.  "I would never have guessed I'd like
the feel of it!"

"If you had, your arse would be like mine.  Big and pink from all the cocks
you'd taken."

He laughed more loudly.  "That'd be well cool!"

"Really?  Why?"

"It'd look like a big hairy pussy, just like yours does.  I could look at
it in the mirror when I wank off– it'd be as good as porn."

I laughed at the idea and worked my cock a bit further up into his
backside.

He gasped, "Oh Jesus!" and I squeezed his cock gently, wanking it a little,
for fear of it starting to soften.

Then he chuckled again.  "I'd love to see how this looks from 'round the
back!"

"Why's that then?" I muttered between his shoulder blades, slowly easing in
a bit further and feeling the ring of his anus straining to accommodate me.

"Just think of it!" he tittered.  "There'd be your big fat donger, halfway
up my arse, with your nuts hanging down underneath it.  Then there'd be
your massive gash right behind those, all pink and wet, looking desperate
to get fucked even though you're the one doing the fucking!"

I chuckled into the back of his neck and he went on, "Talk about being
weird and hot at the same time!"

I liked his description – that I was equipped with both an active penis
and a willing vagina – and it occurred to me again that, at least on
matters of sex, Pete had an especially lively imagination.

Suddenly he grunted and winced and called out, "Oh Jesus fuck!" so I took
my hand off his cock and pulled away from him.

"If it's hurting too much," I said, "there's something I can do to make
your bum more slippery."

He looked back at me again over his shoulder.  From this angle he looked
even more stupid.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I agreed.  "Stand up, still facing away from me."

He did as I told him to and stood up on the bed.  He was so tall that he
had to squat a little to avoid his head banging on the ceiling.

I shuffled up behind him again, my face level with his squat, round
buttocks.  I loved being in this position – kneeling behind another man
with my face level with his bum – on the brink of enjoying a level of
intimacy with him that I have never experienced with a woman.  There was
something about the juxtaposition between by face and another man's bare
behind – be it the curve of his arse-cheeks next to my mouth or having
my nose so close to the smooth, deep cleft – which made me shudder with
anticipation every time.

Nevertheless, in spite of my excitement, I thought I ought to make
something clear.

"Whatever you do, don't fart again, Pete," I requested.

He chuckled.  "Why?  What are you going to do?"

"You'll find out soon enough.  Just keep... er...  better control of your
faculties."

As Pete threw me a quizzical glance over his shoulder, I peered at the
spot, about two thirds down the deep crack between his cheeks, where his
two pert, muscular buttocks met and where I was going to apply my mouth.
This was either going to be an especially exciting rim-job, or was
otherwise going to be grim.  I instinctively knew there was going to be no
middle ground with Pete.  I was going to either love tonguing his backside
or be appalled by it.

I glanced up at him still looking curiously at me and threw him a small
smirk.  It was time to find out.

I pushed my face forwards, nuzzling my nose and mouth between his cheeks
and was immediately relieved that the odour I had suspected I might find
was, in fact, barely recognisable.  Instead, his backside had a lovely,
deep earthy scent: powerful and stimulating while delivering a distinctly
masculine punch.  It had the allure and luxuriance of rich, dark chocolate
while retaining the carnal and deeply sensual flavour of his own unique
pheromones.

I pushed my tongue against his hole and lapped at it greedily, enjoying the
way it gaped open from the fingering it had just received.

"Fucking hell, mate!" he called out.  "I can't believe you're doing that!
No-one's ever licked my arse before!"

I pulled back from him and called up, "I think it's very much something
that two men do together, Pete.  All the times I've had sex with women,
I've never done this."

He laughed down at me.  "I lick my girlfriend out all the time, but I never
even knew you could lick a bloke out!"

"I don't think it's that common.  But it's something I rather like to do."

That had to be the understatement of the evening.

"I better warn you, mate – I can't lick your arse in return," Pete
informed me.  "I love licking minges, but... well... a bloke's hairy
shitter's a bit different, isn't it?"

I smiled up at him.  "That's okay.  I wasn't expecting you to.  In any
case, mine doesn't need any help in being prepared, does it?"

He grinned back at me.  "No, mate, yours is fucking well and truly ready!"

I pushed my face back between Pete's buttocks and licked into his brash,
juicy tunnel.  He bent over and squatted his bum towards me to give me
better access and I felt his body start to shake as he took up a fast
masturbatory rhythm on his cock.  His balls started whacking against the
underside of my chin and I heard him gasping between laughing at how novel
this position was for him.

"I wish my girlfriend would do this to me!" he muttered.  "It feels really
sexy!"

Encouraged by how much he enjoyed having another man tonguing his anus, I
pushed my tongue deeper up into his bowels.  He grunted his enjoyment and I
rolled my tongue into a tube so I could work it in and out of him,
marvelling at how much he was getting into being tongue-fucked.

He was wanking himself good and fast, chuckling and gasping for breath, as
I relished the strengthening bitterness of his innards and plunged deeper
into his hot, dank tunnel.  I hoped he was soon going to enjoy having
something considerably bigger pushed even more deeply up inside him.

He grabbed my head with his free hand and ground my face up and down his
arse cleft.  I loved the sensation of that: of being used like a piece of
toilet roll and rubbed up and down his rough and hairy butt crack.

"Shove your face right in, Rob!" he called out to me.  "Get a good sniff of
my arse crack!"

I pushed as deep as I could between his buttocks as he worked my face up
and down inside his splayed-open cleft, panting at the strength of his anal
scent and slobbering my tongue around his richly pungent hole.

Then, to my surprise, he pulled away from me and turned around on the bed.
His erection curved upwards, wavering, in front of my face.  The head of it
was wet and dark purple, its long slit splitting it down the middle and
making it look from this angle as if it had two distinct tips.

I had a sudden recollection, unearthed from some long-forgotten David
Attenborough series, that kangaroos had forked penises which did not look
entirely dissimilar.

"That was fucking awesome, mate!" he called down to me.  "But I really want
to find out what your bum feels like!"

At the mention of getting a fuck, his cock throbbed upwards so that I could
see that its swollen shaft had red rings around it from the tightness of
his fingers as he'd wanked himself.  His hairy balls hung down in front of
his thighs, his load no doubt amassing in the paired mounds inside his
scrotum, preparing for release.

I grinned up at him.

"I mean my hand feels nice, Rob," he went on, grabbing his dick and jerking
it a couple of times as if I could be in any doubt as to his meaning, "but
I bet your big, pink arsehole will feel a lot better."

I grinned more broadly.  "Only if I get to take my turn on yours..."

He chuckled.  "'Course you can!  It'll be a tight fit, mind!"

I nodded, pleased that he was so willing to reciprocate.  This was going
far, far better than I'd dared to hope, and the best part was that we were
both largely sober and could more fully enjoy what we were doing together.

He got off the bed and went over to his rucksack.  He bent down to find a
condom he must have had stashed away and I took another look at his tightly
clenched hole, wet from where I'd rimmed him.

This was going to be amazing!  I knew he was going to love fucking me –
and I'd enjoy receiving him – and then I was going to relish having him
bend over for me in return.  I'd take him slowly at first, enjoying feeling
his cock stiffen again after it had spent itself inside me, and then work
up my pace until I was hammering in and out of him like a buck rabbit,
grabbing both his shoulders as firmly as I could and feeling our balls
whacking together underneath us.

Male-on-male sex could be so satisfying and with Pete's hot, tight chute
clamping around my cock as I slammed back and forth against his big, meaty
buttocks, it was going to be fantastic.

He stood back up and gawped at me vacuously as he tore open the condom and
unfurled it down his cock.

"What if Mike and Anthony hear what we're doing?" he asked, referring to
our two colleagues in the next room from ours.

I shrugged.  I didn't really care.  What was the worst they could do?  Give
us a few odd glances in the morning?  Make a few snide comments?

I'd just smirk at them if they did.  By then, I'd have had my butt fucked
by a guy nearly twenty years younger than me and got to shoot my load up
his cute, virgin arse in return.  How's that for a successful business
trip?

"It's what guys do, Pete," I suggested.  "Even if they're not at it
themselves, it probably won't surprise them that we are.  It's just how it
sometimes works when two blokes share."

"Is that right?" he asked gullibly.

"Of course it is!" I said casually, like it really was.  "You know how it
works in prisons and army barracks.  This is what happens when men bunk up
together and feel horny."

"Really?  They use each other's arses?" he asked, with his condom-sheathed
cock rising upwards in front of him.

"Of course they do," I smiled.  "Why just make do with a wank when you've
both got holes of the right size you can take turns on?"

He threw the condom wrapper into the bin and nodded believingly.

I turned around and stuck my hairy buttocks out towards him.

"I suppose it's obvious, when you say it like that, mate," he muttered,
getting onto the bed behind me.  "But I just didn't know.  I've shared with
other blokes loads of times and the only times things got a
bit... well... friendly, I suppose, were those couple of times I told you
about.  And that was all pretty... you know... low-key.  Nothing like this
ever happened."

"Did you and the other guys flash your arses at each other 'til you both
got hard?"

"No," he said, grabbing my by the hips and shuffling up behind me until I
could feel the rubber-clad tip of his organ nuzzling between the cheeks of
my bum.  For a first-timer, he was impressively accurate in estimating how
far down my arse-crack would serve as the best point for entry.

"Well, there you go, then," I ventured.  "There has to be a few... you
know... preliminaries.  It doesn't just happen on its own."

He nodded and I felt his breath against my shoulder blades as his cock was
eased through my bum-cheeks and the teat of the condom pressed gently
against my splayed hole.

"I'll keep that in mind in future, then," he said.  "I'm always up for a
fuck, me!"

I smiled, anticipating awkward situations he'd get himself into during
future room shares, and bent further forwards on the bed so that I was
better positioned to receive him.  This was the part I liked best: having
another man push his cock against my ring so firmly that it yielded to him
and feeling him slide upwards past my rectum and into my bowels.

"I mean, usually I prefer shagging birds," he went on, easing his cock head
into my voluminous entrance, "but this is the next best thing, I suppose."

"Next best thing?" I thought.  If it's done the right way it can be
infinitely better than that!  We were about to overcome the constraints of
our biology and enjoy sexual intercourse together as two men.  We were
going to defy the reality of our similarly-matched genitals and connect our
two male bodies together as intimately as was possible.  There was no 'next
best thing' about it: this was the sexual equivalent of Beluga caviar!

Before I could point any of this out, his cock slid into me and he grunted
animalistically.  He seemed surprised by how pleasant it felt to be pushing
his excitement upwards into another man's bum.

"Jesus Christ, mate!" he gasped.  "This feels fucking amazing!"

His plump cock head cleaved its way up through my rectum, pushing upwards
into my hot wet passage and finding it just as accommodating as its many
predecessors, some with far thicker girths, had.  I gasped at how
incredible it felt to receive him into my body and felt my own larger
manhood throbbing upwards at the sheer pleasure of having myself filled by
this younger man's throbbing excitement.

"I can't believe I'm pushing my cock up your bum, Rob!" he chuckled, his
voice becoming breathless.  "I'm actually shafting another bloke's hairy
arse!  Jesus Christ!"

I gasped again at how good it felt to be impaled by the shaft of another
man's erection.  "Just enjoy it, Pete," I panted, "like you would when
you're with a woman!"

"That's exactly what it feels like – a woman's pussy!" he called out
with surprise, as if the similarity had only just occurred to him.  I felt
his cock throb and harden, the girth of it thickening inside me, as his
excitement grew at the thought of the feminine version of the hole I was
offering.

"I guess that's why men do it to each other, Pete," I suggested.  "Even
straight blokes like us.  It feels like shagging a woman, even when there
are no women around to shag!"

He chuckled at that, grabbed my hips with more force and then pushed his
cock further into me.  It slid deep up into my bowels until I feel the
paired bulges of his nuts in his hairy scrotum pressing between my thighs.

He eased himself out of me and then worked it up me again.  He did it a few
more times before declaring: "That feels so nice, mate!  If I didn't know
better, I'd swear it was a muff!"

I bent lower for him and told him to put a hand on each of my shoulders for
leverage which he did.  Then he started fucking me properly, driving his
cock in and out of my hole as we developed a steady, gentle rhythm
together.

He let out another surprised laugh as we worked our bodies together, pacing
ourselves to savour our moment of togetherness.  He called out, "This is
fucking amped to the max, mate!" as our back and forth motion gradually
intensified and he used his knees to prize my legs further apart so he
could push into me more fully and deeply.

This really was the most exquisite of positions: bending forwards to
receive another man's sex between my hungry, splayed buttocks.  My cock was
rock-hard and gently oozing with excitement as it was internally stimulated
by the swollen girth of its brother, sliding back and forth steadily faster
against my grateful prostate.

I turned back to look at him over my shoulder and saw him looking down at
his own cock as it bored in and out between the paired round globes of my
butt-cheeks.  He looked serious as he watched his manhood enjoying its
first taste of male penetration, but then he glanced up at me and we smiled
at each other.

He gasped, "I can't believe I'm actually pegging another bloke's arse!"

I laughed and kept working my arse back and forth against him, clamping my
muscles tightly closed around his cock as he thrust it back and forth.
"How does it feel?"

"It's fucking well tasty, mate!  All the times I said no at
school... Jesus!  I didn't know what I was missing!"

"Do you still think it's the 'next best thing' to sex with a woman?"

He shook his head and then closed his eyes at the waves of pleasure I knew
he was experiencing from the squeezing of my rectal muscles.  "No way!  I
mean, I know it's your arse and that you shit through it and stuff, but
fucking hell, mate!  This is class!  It's fucking immense!"

"Well, you're doing a fantastic job, Pete!  You're a natural!"

He grinned broadly at the compliment: perhaps his girlfriend was never so
forthcoming in her praise of his sexual endeavours.

"Does it feel good for you too?" he asked.

I chuckled.  "Feel my cock, Pete."

He pressed his chest down against my back so that I could feel his hairy
pecs rubbing against the base of my shoulder blades as we worked our bodies
together with each other.  He reached underneath me with his right hand and
grabbed at the large, hard shaft of my organ as his own kept drilling in
and out of me.

"Whoa!" he giggled.  "That is fucking well hard, mate!  I can feel it
throbbing!"

He groped up and down the thickened rod of it, feeling how prominent the
veins were protruding along its length and how tightly my foreskin was
being pulled back from the bulbous head.

Then he declared: "You really have got a massive dong, Rob!  It's about
twice as thick as mine!"

"That's what happens when you have someone's cock rubbing up and down
inside you, Pete," I informed him through my quickening breaths.  "It makes
your cock grow really big and hard."

"Yeah?" he asked, still pounding my backside as he ran his fingers up and
down my throbbing shaft.

"Yeah," I asserted.  "Your cock's rubbing against my prostate which is
making mine grow to full size."

The thought that I was aroused by his exertions made his rhythm grow faster
so that his balls were thwacking against my thighs.  His breathing
quickened against my shoulders and I felt a dribble of his hot saliva land
on my spine.

"This is proper horny, Rob," he gasped.  "With Shelley, I never know if
she's really enjoying it... with you... Jesus!  Getting butt-fucked by me
is making your knob as hard as a pole!"

I was pleased that he was now enjoying our sex for what it was and that he
no longer needed to imagine my arse as a substitute vagina.  He was aroused
that he was penetrating me as another man and that my body was responding
to him in its own masculine way.

He went on, breathlessly, "And the way you're moving with me... working
with my cock... I can tell you're well into it!"

I smiled at the knowledge that his girlfriend probably just lay there
underneath him, staring up at the ceiling or maybe texting a friend.

As if to encourage me further, he wrapped his hand around my cock and
started wanking me in earnest.  To show my appreciation, I worked my bum
against him more forcefully, meeting his every thrust with a backwards jab
of my hips.  He started gasping against my back, his whole body writhing
with the same rhythm as mine as we revelled in the fact we were enjoying
sex as two men.

He whispered in my ear, his tone almost conspiratorial, "This doesn't mean
we're gay, Rob, does it?"

I smiled more broadly, panting with my own pleasure at the feel of his
persistent hardness thrusting more rapidly back and forth inside me.

"Of course it doesn't mean that, Pete!  We're
just... well... opportunists!"

He may not have understood the word but he nevertheless grunted his
agreement and then, holding me firm underneath him, gyrated his crotch
against my buttocks, making circular movements with his cock inside my
hole.  I called out in pleasure, urging him to keep going, and he laughed
at how much sensation he was able to give me by making corkscrew motions as
he worked himself in and out of me.  His large, hairy chest was pressing
down onto my back and I gasped with delight as I pushed my bum upwards to
meet the twisting motions of his cock between my buttocks.

"Ah, yeah!" I called out, realising I was breaking out into a sweat.
"That's how you do it!"

For a newcomer at the pleasures to be had from male buggery, Pete was
proving himself to be a very able and willing learner.

He pleasured me that way for a good few minutes, laughing into the back of
my head at how much sensation his swivelling motions were delivering to my
appreciative rump.  All the time, his hand kept sliding up and down my
straining organ as fast as he could pump it, masturbating me with the same
clumsy technique that he'd probably used on his own smaller and thinner
shaft since his early teens.

Then, in need of a more gratifying fuck, he pushed himself upwards from my
back, grabbed me tightly by the hips with both hands again and started
pounding my splayed opening as roughly and quickly as he could.  He was
wanking himself off using my rectal muscles to jerk his foreskin back and
forth, the way I might have frantically humped my pillows in my younger
years.

"Go for it, mate!" I called out to him, squeezing my backside as tightly as
I could around the battering shaft of his jack-hammer organ.  "Give me what
you've got!"

He grunted his assent and drove into me faster and faster, gripping my hips
almost painfully as he held onto me as tightly as he could to better
pleasure himself inside my wide and stretched arsehole.  His pelvis was
slapping loudly against my buttocks and the whole bed was shaking back and
forth from his exertions, the headboard beating in a rapid rhythm against
the hollow hotel wall.

This was man-on-man doggy sex at its most rough and raw: the frantic
rutting of our two male bodies joined together hip to hip.

I could imagine how we'd look from behind: the muscles of his buttocks
flexing as he drove himself back and forth; the flabbiness of mine
quivering with each hurried thrust of his bucking hips.

I'd never been banged by a man as young as Pete and now that I was, I could
more than vouch that it was indeed all it was cracked up to be.  His
strength, vigour and horniness all combined to give me an electrifying
experience, a magnitude more exciting than some of the more practised older
men who had been in his place.  He was crude and graceless, his thrusting
urgent and voracious, and he had all the sensuality of a randy teenager,
selfishly enjoying his first frenetic fuck.  I faced forwards, revelling in
the youthful abandon of his uncouth technique, and pushed my bum backwards
to better receive the full force of his unbridled intrusion.

"Oh, God, yeah!" I gasped and dimly wondered if our colleagues in the next
room really could hear what we were up to.  Whether, while they lounged on
their beds, sipping a last nightcap in front of some dull TV show, they
were aware that they were listening to young Pete Lehman from planning
ending his evening by having his first, noisy homosexual experience.  That
the banging on the wall wasn't sound that was carrying or faulty plumbing:
that it was that boring old divorcee from project development having his
arse roughly shafted by a man young enough to be his son.

Pete started grunting as he pummelled me and then gasped, "This is what it
must be like to have to shag a bloke in prison, Rob!"

"I suppose it must!" I gasped back and then grabbed my cock to start
wanking myself while he so brutally fucked me.  I liked the thought of
being buggered in prison: allowing my sex-starved cellmate to use my arse
for relief.

"I've always thought it would be awful," he went on through laboured
breaths, "but it's actually pretty good... really good!"

"Could you get a taste for it?" I asked, smiling at his surprise at how
much he enjoyed the same-sex version of the lovemaking he probably took for
granted.

He chuckled as his pounding increased in speed and force.  "Yeah!" he
called out.  "Yeah, I reckon I could get well into this!"

I realised that the bedside light next to us was casting dark shadows
against the flimsy curtains at the windows, projecting a blatantly obvious
silhouette of our bodies onto them.  Anyone outside would be able to see
the outline of one man on all fours and another kneeling behind him,
holding him by the hips; every time Pete rapidly withdrew from me, they
would get flashes of the thick tube of flesh connecting our bodies; from
our rhythm and movement, they would recognise instantly how we had chosen
to occupy ourselves.

Suddenly Pete stopped thrusting, and just held me in front of him, his cock
halfway into my stretched and puckered hole, sniffing the air like a
terrier.

At length he asked, "What's that smell?"

"What smell?"

"Sort of... I dunno... dirty... raunchy..."

I resolved to be frank with him: "It's the smell you get when two men are
having sex together, Pete.  What we're doing goes hand-in-hand with that
smell."

"You mean this is how it always smells when two blokes are... you
know... doing the dirty deed?"

I nodded, amused by the modesty of his language given the unrestrained
intensity of the sex we'd just enjoyed together.  "It's the smell of
male-on-male anal sex.  The combination of our hard cocks, sweaty bollocks
and hairy arses when they're all pounding away.  You soon get used to it.
You soon get to like it, actually."

"Yeah, I do like it... kind of.  It's just... you know... I've never smelt
it before."

I inhaled deeply, enjoying the pungent, biting odour of our sexual
expression which was starting to fill the room.  "For me, this unique smell
is a significant part of what I enjoy about intimacy with other men.  It's
deeply masculine but also powerfully erotic."

He sniffed the air again, this time more appreciatively.

"Yeah, I think I get it," he announced.  I doubted he did.  "It's the smell
of one bloke knobbing another bloke's arse – it's totally different from
the smells you get during normal sex.  And that's what makes it special."

I smiled at his use of the word 'normal'.  I hoped that what we doing now –
what we were enjoying together – might in time make him question his
idea of what was normal.

"You only get this smell when it's two men, Pete," I told him, still facing
forwards with his cock buried halfway up my bum.  "It must be something
about one guy's cock sliding in and out of another's backside.  A mixture
of our male pheromones, perhaps: the sweat from your cock mixing with the
smell from my arse.  With maybe a few whiffs from my own hard-on giving it
that extra bite."

He laughed at that and started fucking me again.  "When you think about it
like that," he said, his breath once again quickening as he recovered his
rhythm, "it's pretty hot, actually!"

"It's as hot as fuck!" I laughed back, enjoying the resumed onslaught
against my prostate.

"It's a smell that only two men can ever smell!" he said, as the headboard
started beating against the wall once again.  "The smell of sex that only
two blokes can enjoy together!"

I wasn't sure I followed his logic but I chuckled nonetheless.  I could
tell from how fast he was banging me that such ideas had propelled him onto
the home straight and I was eager to do all I could to help bring him to
his climax.

"Revel in it, Pete!" I implored him as I worked my hips and buttocks
against his frantic thrusts.  "Revel in the smell of our bum sex!"

Again I thought of the men next door: what if they really could hear
everything we were doing?  Or even worse, what we were saying?  I had a
sudden foreboding that the language I was using might be sneeringly
referenced when we returned to work.

With surprising strength Pete pulled me upright so that my back was against
his chest and then wrapped his arms around me to hold me as firm as he
could while he drove rapidly in and out of me with long sweeps of his
curving cock.

The angle proved highly rewarding and once again I found myself impressed
by his skill and dexterity in exploiting what was a fairly average-sized
organ to maximal effect.  In this position, the slant of his shaft was
exquisitely stimulating the ring of my anus and I started panting like an
over-heated dog as I pumped my own erection in time with his fast and
furious thrusts.

"Fucking hell, mate!" he gasped into my ear.  His breath was quick and hot
and his stubble was grating against the back of my neck.  "I'm bumming your
arse!  Do you realise that?  I'm actually bumming another fella's
arsehole!"

"And you're loving it!" I exhorted, wanking my own cock violently.  "You're
loving knobbing me up the bum!"

"I fucking am!" he cried out.  "I'm fucking well horny for it!  Who'd have
thought it?!"

He panted in my ear as he sped towards his climax, muttering that he was
"getting ready to nut", as if used to having to warn his girlfriend about
the impending fountain she was about to experience.

I had an irrational vision of us being caught like this: of one of our
colleagues entering our room and finding us stark naked together, our
bodies writhing together in the heat of Pete's climax, on the creaking
hotel bed.  I could easily imagine the picture we'd make: Pete's chest
heaving against my back and his knees between mine pushing them apart; his
arse-cheeks flexing in the throes of his orgasm, his hips grinding in rapid
jerks against my buttocks, and the strong smell of my backside and our
sweat combining to betray what we were in the middle of.

Pete interrupted my reverie to grab me tightly and shudder sporadically as
he spent himself inside the condom which was buried deeply in my bowels.

As if already plagued by the guilt which many men endure after their first
homosexual experience, Pete called out during the spasms of what felt like
a very powerful outpouring of his seed, "Oh Jesus, mate!  Oh fuck!  I can't
believe I'm doing this!  How can I be fucking doing this?!"

I tried my best to console him as well as I could even as I faced away from
him: "Just enjoy it, Pete!  This is a perfectly natural thing we've just
done together!"

He continued gripping my body, still humping me in rough spasms while he
grunted his chastisements at what he'd allowed himself to do.  "I'm nutting
it with my cock up your arse, mate!  I'm spunking up, right up your bum!  I
can't fucking believe it!"

"And it feels amazing, Pete," I tried to placate him even though I couldn't
turn towards him.  "We both really needed this!"

He kept shuddering and muttering his self-recriminations as his balls
emptied themselves into his condom, hugging my body tightly as a fellow
male as if for comfort.

And then, when his orgasm had waned, he pulled away from me and withdrew
from my arse with a squelching slurp.

I expected further pangs of regret – accusations, even, that I'd led him
on and corrupted him – but instead he just looked down at himself and
called out, "Bloody hell, mate!  I'm glad I was wearing a condom!"  Then he
pulled it off and went into the bathroom to dispose of it and clean himself
up.

I followed him in, my erection still bobbing around in front of me, and
asked him how he felt.

As he washed his softening cock in the sink – right next to my
toothbrush, I noticed – he grinned over at me.  "I'm alright, mate.  I'm
a survivor, me."

"No regrets?"

"Naah... we were just messing around, weren't we?" he smiled, glancing down
at my stiffened organ.  "Helping each other out..."

"Exactly," I smiled.  "It was just that when you were climaxing, you seemed
to grow a little... well... contrite, perhaps."

"Yeah... I dunno... it suddenly seemed wrong, what we were doing.  But now
it's over, I'm okay again.  It's just something that happens to me."

"Sex is something to be celebrated," I proposed, "not a cause for shame."

"Yeah, I know that," he agreed.  "It's just how I am.  I was the same the
first time I let another bloke suck me off.  I was the same, even – and
I still remember it well, actually – the first night I had a wank at
home when I was about twelve!"

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," he grinned, switching off the tap and shaking the water off his
organ like it was a dishcloth.  "While I was spunking up that night for the
first time, I was really cursing myself, telling myself it was so wrong for
me to play with my dick.  But after it was all over, I just went to sleep
accepting that I was now a lad who liked wanking.  I think it just takes me
a bit of time to get my head around things."

I smiled and nodded, wondering if he'd had a religious upbringing along the
lines of my own, and then told him I'd be as quick as I could in having my
turn on him.

"I don't really fancy it now, mate," he announced matter-of-factly, drying
his cock off on the face towel.  "Once I've cum, that's me pretty much
finished."

"But you said I could have my turn on you," I persisted.  "I even licked
your bum to make you ready."

He shook his head.  "Sorry, Rob, but I'm turning in for the night."

When he saw how annoyed I looked through the bathroom mirror he shrugged.
"I can't help how it is.  Shelley's always having a go about it too.  As
soon as I've shot my wad, that's me bushed, mate."

He got in front of the toilet pan and directed his cock downwards to take a
piss.  "You'll have to toss yourself off or something.  I can't really say
more than that.  Not after I've spilled my junk."

"But I'm still hard, Pete," I said, teasing my foreskin back and forth
across my swollen cock head a couple of times as if to stress the fact.
"It's not really fair that I let you use my bum only to have you complain
that you don't feel like it when it's my turn."

He shrugged again as the first jets of his piss noisily hit the water in
the toilet bowl.  "I can't help how my body works, mate.  If it helps you
out, you can lick my arse again."

"Sorry?"

The stream of his piss grew more continuous and he pointed the bilobed tip
of his cock downwards at the toilet like one would a garden hose.  "You can
lick my arse and wazz yourself off until you spunk up.  That's the best I
can do for you, mate – at least until we have to share again.  Then, if
you're still up for it, I can repay you properly."

I liked the fact he was throwing me the possibility of a next time and so I
didn't risk scuppering things by getting insistent about what he'd offered
me tonight.

Instead, I decided to accept the titbit I'd been thrown and knelt down
behind him while he pissed into the toilet.  I pressed my face back into
the crack of his bare arse and took up a rapid rhythm on my cock while I
rimmed his hairy hole for the second time that evening.

Having never rimmed a man while he was relieving his bladder, I have to say
it was a surprisingly fascinating experience and one which excited me far
more than I might have anticipated.  Every time Pete spurted his
diminishing jets of urine into the toilet, the muscles of his anus would
relax to allow my tongue to enter him more deeply.  His wonderfully carnal
and pungent taste grew stronger with every squirt of his piss and the pace
of my hand on my cock grew faster and stronger as his trickles into the
bowl grew weaker and slower.

By the time he'd finished pissing, my tongue was reaching halfway into his
intestines and my hand was slamming up and down my organ so quickly my hand
must have been a frantic blur.

Pete laughed at how ridiculous I must look: crouching behind him pumping my
cock like an over-sexed adolescent, while I slobbered away with my nose and
mouth wedged in his arse crack.

"You really like eating blokes' arses out, don't you, mate?" he chuckled,
shaking the last drops from his cock into the toilet bowl.

"Mmm!" was all I could managed with my face clamped on his rear.

I was imagining him at work in his tight, black trousers, bending over to
get something from the filing cabinet when I need to get some paperwork
from his department.  I reminded myself how often I'd lusted after his
arse, standing behind him in his office.  I was tonguing that very arse
right now here in the hotel bathroom: I was rimming that self-same hole
that I'd fantasized about pressing my face into for so long.

Pete laughed again and bent over the toilet, opening his bum wider for me
to probe it even more deeply.  I couldn't help but marvel, as I was driving
myself towards my climax as quickly as I could, how quickly he'd recovered
from his earlier misgivings.  This was clearly a guy who lived for the
moment: there was no point dwelling on past regrets or trying to anticipate
future anxieties.  Just go with the flow and see what happens.  If only I
could live my life so free from such worries.

"Fucking nut it, mate!" he called out to me.  "Go on, Rob!  Fucking shoot
your spunk!"

I thumped away at my cock faster and harder than I had for many years,
aware that he primarily wanted to hasten my orgasm so that he could get to
bed.  In spite of where my face was and how quickly I was jerking my
foreskin, my climax remained frustratingly distant.

It took a change of approach from Pete to make my balls start tingling.

"Come on, Rob, shove your tongue right up me!  Right where your cock'll be
fucking me next time we stopover, mate!  Right where you'll be screwing my
arsehole with that big knob of yours!"

My semen started spurting through Pete's legs onto the polished enamel of
the underside of the toilet bowl.  It hung like white icicles reaching
downwards towards the tiled floor.

He laughed again at the fact he'd managed to bring me off and told me
several times that he knew what he'd said would do the trick.

"You're a bloke who likes bum sex, Rob," he rather needlessly informed me.
"I knew saying you could shag me up the arse would get your white stuff
flowing!"

I smiled as I stood up behind him and used a piece of toilet roll to wipe
my seed from my spent cock.

"You're also a bloke who likes bum sex, Pete," I reminded him, feeling an
anal hair on my lip with my tongue as I spoke.  "Birds of a feather and all
that!"

He laughed at that: "Yeah, I am, aren't I?  You and me are butt-buddies,
Rob!"

After I'd wiped my semen from the toilet and we'd both brushed our teeth,
we turned in for the night making small-talk as if nothing of any
consequence had happened.

The only mention of what we'd done was elicited by Pete just before he
switched his bedside lamp off.

"Thanks for the... er... you know... the session, Rob," he quipped and then
threw me a small grin.  I think he was amused by his choice of the word
'session' to express in neutral terms something which had been quite
momentous for him.  Whatever the cause of the smirk, I was again reminded
of the ratty creature on 'Ice Age'.

"The curtailed session," I reminded him.  "The best, as far as I'm
concerned, is yet to come."

He grinned more broadly, his finger on the switch, and nodded.  "Game of
two halves, mate.  If you can wangle it so we get another skive off work
soon, I'll make sure the stopover's worth the wait for you."

I smiled, resolving to scour the websites of training companies and
conference organisers to find something which would fit both of our job
areas.

"You've got a deal, Pete," I agreed.

And with an amused wink he turned off the light.

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