Date: Wed, 22 Feb 2017 16:00:54 +0000
From: Jay Morris <sniffyoudeep@hotmail.com>
Subject: Benidorm Scally Raunch Part 3

Thanks for the feedback. Keep it coming and I'll keep you cumming. This
story contains extreme raunch - scat and puke.

Much like our elevator was wedged between two floors, Simon's dirty grey
jogging shorts were wedged between his meaty arse cheeks as the panic
grew. Conor was laughing but his brother Luke was cramping up, holding on
to his stomach as he peered down at me.

"Why the fuck are you kneeling down?" Luke cried.

"Because I'm claustrophobic and I'm scared I'll have a panic attack!" was
my response. I was lying through my teeth as I eyed their bulges and arses
from where I knelt. Conor had a fatter arse than Luke but Luke had more
round the front. The goods had clearly been evenly distributed between the
brothers. But Simon had it all. Big arms, big chest, big thighs, big fat
bulge and a nice shelf of an arse. And from where I was kneeling his fat
scally arse was emanating the best odour. Sweat and shit.

"Help!!!" Simon cried as he banged on the doors. "Someone get us out of
here!"

"Mate I can't hold it..." Luke cried. "I'm in fucking agony." Saliva
trailed from his lips as he cried out and as he turned to the door to bang
on it with Simon I found his skinny but pert arse not far from my face as I
willed him to just let go.

"Keep it in for two seconds," Conor moaned. "If you shit yourself I'm gonna
hurl, I feel fucking rank after last night."

"Help for fuck's sake!" cried Simon frantically but alas, as I licked my
lips it was too late.

A rip roaring farting sound blew out of Luke's arse and I watched his white
shorts turn light brown as he evacuated his painful bowels. His anus
literally exploded in his shorts and the sludge ran down his legs as Simon
groaned and Conor eyed his brother's arse in horror. He bawked as the smell
hit. Imagine raw sewage at its worst. He coughed, spluttered and as I
pretended to help him I grabbed his arm and turned him to face his brother
as it came up.

Conor projectile vomited all over Luke, big brother emptying his bile on to
his little brother's shitty arse. I was in heaven as Simon gagged in horror
and retched, heaving as the chunks rose in his throat and forced their way
out of his fat lipped chav mouth. His puke was pea green and loaded with
rancid donner meat as it fell out of his mouth and covered his beefy
heaving chest. Simon was literally vomiting all over himself as Luke fell
to his knees, arse in the air, and heaved too, forcing more sloppy mush out
of his arse as his stomach went into spasms.

"Help us someone!" Conor cried in abject terror as he pounded his fists
against the elevator doors. But he couldn't get anymore words out as he
turned and more puke exploded out up from his gut and through his teeth
into his brother's face. The smell in the elevator was that of sour rancid
gut slime and pure lad shit. Conor's puke was all over his brother and
sprayed up the walls and as the smell got under Simon's nose his own
heaving got worse until he fell to his knees right in front of me and
vomited pools of green brown goo all over the floor. The smell had my cock
literally at the point of exploding it was so full of blood, but my stomach
was lurching too and as the lads had their faces turned the other way I
took the opportunity to join in the disgusting fun. I slid my fingers down
my throat and it didn't take long before I felt the heat and burn in my
stomach and the juice came flying up.

This morning's breakfast, the black beach bum's cum and a hell of a lot of
bile flew out of my mouth all over the backs of Conor and Luke's
heads. Those sweet chav brothers on their hands and knees puked more and
more as I covered them, and I imagined them kissing for the first time –
those beautiful chav lips meeting and tasting family and vomit all in one
go. As Luke retched and shit himself all over again, his brother reached
out, cradling his head lovingly and pulled him closer. As he looked into
Luke's eyes, he said "It's okay little brother we'll be okay." It was the
sweetest thing I've ever seen right in the middle of this pure unadultered
filth, and as their noses met and they held each other forehead-to-forehead
Simon suddenly spluttered and vomited his last ounces of stomach lining on
to their faces.

Totally without touching any part of my genitals I came in my pants. I fell
back against the wall, spent, almost as if I'd just made passionate love to
all three of them. They looked pretty pitiful as they writhed in their own
shit and vomit. They were delirious with the smell, still bawking, in the
middle of a nightmare situation which they had no idea was my absolute
dream.

Whilst they weren't looking I hit the emergency stop button again and the
lift started moving. They were in a state of shock as I clambered to my
feet.

"Here," I said. "Let me help you..."

And I reached out and took Conor's hand. I helped him up as he looked at
the others in complete shell shock. And then as the lads got up, the smell
really started to turn my stomach. It was like nothing I've ever
experienced – the sheer reek of every body function having expelled
stink at the same time. But within seconds the lift doors pinged open –
and we looked up, mortified, to be confronted with the startled faces of
the German coach tour group. Imagine ten wrinkled tutonic faces all staring
at us in total horror. When the smell hit them some turned and ran, others
just stood there in puzzlement. But the lads charged past them and I too,
head down, glad to be wearing a hat, and even more happy to be on my floor.

I returned to my hotel room and when I got inside I looked in the
mirror. Astonishing. I was literally covered in Simon's puke, and in my
hands I squelched Luke's runny shit between my fingers. Coming down from
the cum-high I had the overwhelming need to shower, and afterwards, in my
robe I sat on my balcony and tried to process what had just occurred.

And it wasn't even lunchtime yet...

I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember is the hammering on
my hotel room door. Dazed, I stood, in my robe, and rushed to the
door. Remembering everything I'd done with Danny I suddenly panicked that
they were on to me so peered through the peep-hole. But surprisingly I saw
a middle-aged Spanish man stood there in a suit. Opening the door, I saw
his handsome smile spread across his face as he said, almost
apologetically, "I'm sorry to bother you Mr (let's say) Morris. I'm the
manager of this hotel and I'm following up on a complaint..."

My heart pounding, I tried to remain calm as I asked "Complaint? About me?"

"Not necessarily," he gushed, hands out as if to placate me. "There was an
incident in one of our elevators and CCTV footage shows you entering with
three other gentlemen."

"Oh that," I responded. "I am absolutely horrified by the whole
thing. Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind..."

I stepped back as he entered, and as he passed me I couldn't help but
notice his arse. Big and burly he clearly worked out. His suit was tight
around the waist and beads of sweat rested on his balding forehead. The
kind of man that would look one hundred times hotter if he just shaved his
head instead of letting the hairline recede.

"Our guests have been extremely upset by the state the elevator was left
in."

"They're not alone. How do you think I felt, I was there when it happened!"
was my response, adopting my disgruntled English tourist face. "Three young
hooligans off their heads on god knows what taking leave of their senses. I
tried to get out but they jammed the lift."

"This is most upsetting. Would you be able to identify them?"

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" I harrumphed. "I plan to cut my visit to
this hotel short and fly out of this hell hole as soon as I am packed!"

"Oh no sir, please," was the manager's response. "I would hate for a
respectable, most... desireable guest as yourself to leave on such
unfortunate terms."

"It's not my fault that you allow scumbags like that to use your hotel," I
stammered. "I'll be telling my friends too."

"Sir I'm sure you understand the position I'm in."

I know what position I wanted him in. Squatting over my face.

"Please I implore you. Stay with us for the remainder of your trip. In fact
I'll settle your bill personally. You can stay free of charge."

I cracked a smile for the first time. "Seriously? You'd do that to buy my
silence on this whole sordid matter?"

"Of course, sir," was his response. "We value respectable customers like
yourself."

I wanted to laugh out loud. Respectable! If only he knew.

"I can certainly see the attraction in allowing boys like that to stay at
your hotel," I went on. "I'm not complaining about that. I do love a good
perv, don't you?"

Following on from the beach this morning I realised I was using this
holiday as an excuse to explore this side of me that had been laying
dormant. The side that didn't give a fuck and was manipulative, brazen and
downright perverse. I was enjoying making him sweat as he fidgeted, looked
around as if checking to see if anyone was watching.

"I hope I've convinced you to take me up on the offer and stay with us,
Sir." He started to back away.

"Almost," I told him. "I'll let you know when I've made my decision."

"Well is there anything else I can do?" he asked honestly, without any hint
of flirtation.

So I had no reason, really, to be the utter bag of filth I was to respond
with "Next time you need to use the toilet, do it here. In my bathroom."

He looked at me like something had been lost in translation. Like he hadn't
heard me properly. But the sudden erection that slid out of my robe and
pointed at him like an obscene branch on a very depraved tree told him he
hadn't misheard. He cleared his throat and backed away with an awkward
smile and then walked away from me and my hard on. I wasn't disappointed. I
was mainly amused with myself for taking complete leave of my senses and
morals in such a flagrant way. Was nobody safe!

Still abuzz and pumping with adrenalyn I closed my door and went back to my
balcony, erection still pointing out, throbbing and glistening with a
globule of precum on the tip. I looked down at the pool and smiled when I
saw him. Danny. Alone. Sat by the pool, staring into the water, head phones
in. And then out of the background came his dad. A slight paunch hung over
his green shorts as he padded barefoot towards his son and sat down next to
him. He leaned in and whispered something and Danny looked utterly
shocked. He guffawed – loud, and I had no doubt at what they were
laughing at.

The laughter doubled, trebled, and was in full boom when I reached
reception on my way out for the evening and saw the stag do taking the
absolute mick out of Simon, Conor and Luke. They were red-faced but
laughing through it as only straight guys en masse can do. The sheer
mortification, the trauma of what they'd been through in that lift, was
being diluted and turned into a bawdy lads' anecdote right in front of my
eyes. An urban legend had been born – and I had been there at the birth,
hands out ready to catch the issue.

As I passed them into the bar, Simon caught my eye. He slipped from the
crowd and followed me into the bar – strip-lighting and noisy football
on the TV meant it was not the kind of establishment I intended to
patronise past one beer.

"Oi..."

I stopped to see Simon coming my way.

"Nice one, yeah? For not saying anything."

"About what?" I responded, playing dumb.

"I saw that poncey manager going round asking people about what happened in
the lift. Thought we'd be out on our ear but he hasn't even talked to us
so... reckon you must have kept quiet."

"Well, these things happen," was my response. "I've got enough dirty
secrets of my own, I know what it's like to have to keep something under
your hat. Hope you boys are feeling better."

Simon eyed me suspiciously. "You here on your own?"

"Yes," I said. "My boyfriend couldn't make this trip."

I was putting it out there. On a plate. Letting him know I was a gay man of
a certain age, and that I'd seen him at his uttermost vulnerable. He
smiled, nodded.

"Well if you get bored and wanna join us we're off out down the strip."

"I'm sure you don't need a boring old fart like me cramping your style."

"You won't be," he laughed. "You can hang round with my dad and uncle!"

I couldn't believe it. Was it because I'd shared such an intimate moment
with him and the others? Did I now wear some macho badge of honour?
Whatever the case may be I saw the opportunity and intended to grab
it. Danny was stood at the bar with his dad as I was brought over by Simon
to meet the gang. His dad looked at me suspiciously as Simon informed them
I'd be joining them as I was on my own. Danny didn't even give me a second
look so it was clear to me he had no recollection of our encounter the
previous night.

Before long I was being dragged along the strip, in and out of sports
bars. And it was here that I realised just who the stag was. Simon was the
condemned man, and as he was dragged off into the toilets by the other lads
for his makeover, I was left sat with Danny amidst gaggles of teenage girls
eyeing him up.

"Poor Simon," I joked. "I wonder what they've got in store for him."

Danny just nodded, awkward. I looked around at the amount of female
attention he was getting.

"I think you're proving to be popular in this bar."

"What d'you mean?" he asked, awkward.

"Look at the amount of girls with their eyes on you!" I joked. "You should
get in there, sow your wild oats!"

"Yeah right," he laughed. "I'm shit with birds."

"Oh all it takes is practice. And a few more drinks. Why don't I get you a
shot of something?"

"Na it's dad's round," he replied. "He's getting me a drink."

I looked over to see his dad at the bar. And as his dad eyed his son from
across the way I was stunned by two things. Simon was re-emerging from the
toilets with his laughing jeering mates and was dressed in a mankini, the
fabric tight up his bare chunky arse crack. But more importantly I saw just
what their father was doing at the bar.

He was dropping a pill of some sort into the drink he'd just bought. And as
he came over all smiles, he was sliding it in front of Danny.

"There you go son," he said, salt of the earth. "Get that down ya."

My eyes almost bulged out of my head and my dick almost did the same down
below. Danny was being spiked... by his own father. The look on my face
said it all. And Daddy knew. So at his first opportunity he pulled me away
and shoved me against the bar.

"You just keep your mouth shut," he warned. "I've brought Danny here to
give him a holiday he won't forget. That little present I dropped in his
drink is gonna help him unwind so I can do that just that."

"What the hell was it?" I asked.

"Never you mind," he grunted. "But when he starts to feel woozy I'll be
taking him back to the hotel. I've seen how you look at him. You keep your
mouth shut and you can come back too. Just me you and his Uncle. And I am
gonna split his cunt wide open. You game?"

As my cock throbbed in my pants and I watched Danny knock the drink back, I
had to laugh. If only his dad knew I'd beat him to the chase. But I
couldn't refuse, could I?

"Sure," I said. "Be rude not to..."

To Be Continued...