The Holiday

Ray's body was warm inside his t-shirt and boxers and with my shaven skin it was as though I could feel every single fibre in his loose underwear. God, it was sensual. And now while he was kissing me he was reaching into every last nook and cranny of my naked body, finding out what aroused me, making me give up every part of myself to him. I could hide nothing from him, he was going to take me any way he wanted me.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he muttered as he kissed my neck and throat, and I opened my eyes, my head lolling, to see the others standing and watching as Ray pushed his fingers into my anus and hauled on my prick, making me hard again. I knew they were watching me, the friend they had known so well for years, now shaved and hairless and smooth and pink and naked, in the arms of another friend, kissing and being caressed in my most intimate places and getting off on it.

Mike went up to John and simply pulled John's boxers down over his hips, stripping him nude, and John gasped and turned to Mike, and put his arms around Mike's shoulders, drawing him in and kissing him. Matthew went up to them and stood behind John, taking his own cock out of his jockey shorts and putting it in the cleft of John's narrow ass, and John chuckled as he kissed Mike. From time to time each of them turned and glanced at Ray and myself. I had already been fucked twice and my third time was coming.

Ray's strong arms went around my waist and he locked his fingers under my ass. I lifted my feet off the ground and wrapped my legs around him. He carried me out of the bathroom, still kissing me. Ray is strong, and I am not that heavy anyway.

He carried me across the room to the fire and stopped there. I unwrapped my legs from around his waist and he set me down, my feet touching the thick rug, then he pulled me down so that I lay on my back, and he lifted my naked legs up, pushing them back over me so that my arse was fully exposed to him.

I stared up at him with longing as he grasped my cock and hauled on it lovingly, smiling, then he slid his hand down over my well-lubricated perineum and into the cleft of my buttocks, fingering my anus.

"Oh, please," I whispered.

"Relax, honey," he said with a smile, and he took his cock out.

My eyes widened. I'd seen Ray's cock before, we'd shared rooms and skinnydipped together, but I wasn't prepared for what it looked like erect. It was enormous.

He rubbed more lube over it so that it glistened in the firelight. I could hear panting coming from across the room, and then I heard Mike groan "Oh, fuck!"

I turned my head. Mike was bent over a chair and John was holding his hips, pushing into him. Now Mike was being buggered, like I'd been, and by John. But while he was fucking Mike, John was watching Ray and me. I sensed that he had only taken Mike because I was currently claimed by Ray.

I looked back at Ray and he was looking down at me with a grin.

"See what you started," he said, and then he took his cock in his hand and he guided it to the slightly loose knot of my anus and leaned down, pushing himself into me.

It was an incredibly vulnerable position, with my legs bent back over me and Ray facing me. He started to push his thick cock into me, stretching the muscle of my anus, and as I felt him sliding up inside me and filling me I winced, and choked back a sob. I was suddenly incredibly emotional. To be used like this, made to strip and then be arse-fucked and then shaved and arse-fucked again by my best friends - for some reason I felt a huge wave of emotion, neither sad nor happy, flow through me, and I was weeping as Ray started to fuck me, easing his giant length in and out of my by now stretched and capacious arsehole.

He looked at me and said softly, "You okay?"

"Yeah," I wept, "oh, God, just...just don't stop...oh, Ray...fuck me...oh Jesus..."

Ray didn't need encouragement. He seemed to go further and further into me with each stroke, filling my bowels and then almost drawing out of them, until I was so impaled on his thick meat that I felt sure his cock was going to come right up through my gut and out of my mouth. I clenched my teeth and breathed harshly, my eyes shut tight, wincing as Ray ploughed a furrow into my rectum, fucking me deeper and murmuring to me about how cute I was, how I was doing great, how I had a gorgeous ass and how good it felt to be fucking me. Every time he sank into me, his balls would touch my bare buttocks and I would groan at how intimately my friend was touching me.

If being fucked by Mike felt like being assaulted, being fucked by Ray felt like I was his fiancŽe. I found myself wondering dazedly what Dee would think of the fact that her husband-to-be had taken one of his best friends, made him strip naked, shaved all his hair off and then made him submit to being fucked up the ass. Then it occurred to me that Ray was so good at this that he must have practised on Dee more than once, and I had an image of her lying naked on her back moaning while Ray stuffed his cock up into her anus and it aroused me so much that I felt myself about to cum.

Ray could tell how aroused I was because my penis was rock hard, bouncing off my belly, and I was moaning loudly, "Oh! Oh God, yeah! Oh, please! Please! Jesus! Fuck my arse! Fuck my arse...ooohh!" He started thrashing in and out of me, really fast and strong, and he muttered, "Go on, Alex, go on, honey, cum for me, go on, you can do it, you can do it," and I clenched my teeth and went "EEEUNNNHH!" as I felt myself cumming over my belly and chest. I came so hard that some of my own cum splashed in my face; I hadn't done that since I was a teenager.

Ray growled, and he shoved his cock into me up to the hilt, and I felt his semen flooding my bowels and I choked back a sob. He hung his head, panting for breath. I squeezed his cock with the muscles of my arse, getting the last drops of Ray's spunk. He leaned down and kissed me hard, and I kissed him back, whimpering a little.

I felt totally sated; I had now been fucked by three men. But while I had had my own orgasm, and it had been tremendous, I still wanted to service the others, if they wanted me to. The pleasure of allowing myself to be used by them was something I wanted to go on feeling.

Ray pulled out of me and smiled at me where I lay on my back on the rug.

"You're good," he said. "Nearly as good as Dee. Anyone would think you'd been practising."

"I've had a bit of practise tonight," I said breathlessly. He laughed and got up.

I turned my head. Mike and John were on the couch now, with Mike between John's legs the way Ray had been between mine, and they were fucking slowly and steadily. John was still the only other one of us who was completely naked. Mike had pulled up his shorts since earlier, when John had been inside him.

"Paul?" said Ray. Paul was sitting at the table, drinking wine. "You want to take a turn?"

"I dunno," said Paul in a nervous voice.

I rolled onto my belly and smiled at Paul.

"You can do whatever you want," I said. "Anything."

Paul was a good friend but of all of us, he was probably the most inhibited - well, I was more so, but my inhibitions were taking a severe beating tonight. He looked at me and drank some wine. He was looking with longing at my naked body and I could tell that he wanted to do something to me; my hairlessness made me curiously unfamiliar, so that touching me or being intimate with me wouldn't be like touching Alex, his friend, but more like experimenting on a stranger.

"Anything?" he said.

I nodded and smiled.

"Can we not do it in here?" he said, glancing at Mike and John on the couch.

"We don't have to," I assured him. Ray looked amused, and went into the kitchen.

Paul got up and said in a tight voice, "Okay," and I got to my slightly unsteady feet and followed him out of the living room and up the stairs.

It was strange, now that I'd left the erotically charged atmosphere of the living room, to be walking naked around Paul's family's countryside house. I caught my pale pink reflection in a mirror as we passed the open door of one of the bedrooms, and I smiled to myself at how weird everything had got. A few hours ago I was a straight single guy, now I was the naked slut of my best friends.

Paul led me into a bedroom. He sat on the bed.

"This is Callie's bedroom," he said. I leaned against the doorframe, my arms folded, smiling. Callie was Paul's little sister. She was nineteen now, but we had all known her since she was in her early teens, and she had always been a teasing, flirtatious, sexy little pain in the arse. None of us had ever asked Callie for a date because we knew she'd just burst out laughing - being over 25, we were in her eyes practically senile. She was a flighty, funny, rude, long-legged, tomboyish sexpot who had been the focus of quite a few sexual fantasies over the years. She had once had a crush on me, which manifested itself as being especially rude to me, and ever since then I'd had a soft spot for her.

Paul got off the bed and went over to the chest of drawers. He opened it and started rummaging through his sister's underwear. He produced a pale blue thong and held it out to me.

"Put it on," he said in a slightly abstracted tone. I guessed what he wanted from me. I smiled at him, and pulled on the thong; Callie was quite tall and I have fairly narrow hips, so it wasn't too bad a fit, although the thin rear strap pinched as it cleft my arse. I had to tuck my genitals inside the pouch.

Paul went through more of the drawers and found a dark blue t-shirt with the word BITCH on it, and a pair of highly abbreviated shorts. He also found a sunhat. He handed them all to me and I pulled on the t-shirt - it was tight across my chest - and then the shorts, which were extremely tight. I thought that the hat might be too small for my head but it turned out not to be. Callie had soft brown hair and I was now bald, and I supposed that the hat was more to conceal my smooth pink scalp than to represent something that Paul's sister would wear.

Dressed in Callie's clothes, I sat on the bed. Paul was staring at my body in his sister's clothes; he kept his eyes away from my face.

The erotic tension in the room was palpable. Here I was, one of Paul's closest male friends, and I was dressed as his teenage sister so that he could live out his most private sexual fantasy; he was trembling a little and sweating.

"God, you're gorgeous," he muttered.

"Thanks," I said softly, raising the pitch of my voice a little, trying to feminise myself.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he said hoarsely and cleared his throat. I pulled up my knees and hugged them, smiling at him from under the brim of the hat.

"You're good-looking too, you know," I said.

"What are you doing right now," he said. It took me a while to figure the question out.

"I'm at home in bed," I said, finally.

"Are you sleeping?"

I tried to imagine Callie lying in bed in their house in the city. I decided I would spice it up a little.

"No," I said, "I'm touching myself."

Paul trembled some more. He sat on his shaking hands.

"Are you having a fantasy?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm imagining being fucked by a guy."

"What guy?" Paul said.

I paused, and said, "Ray."

"Do you want to fuck Ray?" he said.

"Yeah," I said, and I sidled a little closer to Paul, so he could feel the heat of my body. "I'm imagining being naked in bed with him and he's putting his cock in my pussy and fucking me hard."

"Do you like being fucked," said Paul in a thick voice.

"I looove it," I purred. "I love feeling a guy's hands on my tits and in between my legs."

"Have you ever imagined me fucking you," said Paul, staring at my limbs.

I hesitated for a moment, then said, "Sometimes."

"Have you imagined having my cock in your pussy," he said, his voice shaking.

"Yes," I whispered, bringing my lips close to his shoulder, reaching out to him. I wanted Paul to feel like he could do whatever he wanted to. I had never guessed that he felt this way about his sister but I wanted to help him work it out.

"You're a slut, Callie," he said tightly.

"Yes," I breathed, and my lips brushed against his shoulder.

"You're a dirty slut," he repeated. I felt a sort of pity for him, as he sat there in his t-shirt and shorts, burning with unrequited and forbidden lust for his cute younger sister.

"I love you," I whispered, and I leaned in to kiss him.

He grabbed me and shoved me on my back, pulling the hem of the t-shirt up. It was tight, and as my arms were lifted over my head it got stuck, still around my neck, covering my head and dislodging the floppy sunhat so that I couldn't see. I gasped. Paul cursed and tore at my shorts, hauling them halfway down over my hips.

"Paul!" I exclaimed, my voice muffled by the t-shirt, "Wait! Hang on a sec!"

He ripped the shorts open and tore them down, then he flipped me over onto my belly and tore the thong off me.

"You fucking bitch, Callie," he muttered, "you fucking slut, I'm gonna give it to you up your arse, you wait..."

"Oh no!" I cried, starting to feel scared. Paul had crossed the line, he was lost in his fantasy, this was no longer a mutual thing. He pulled my buttocks apart and spat on my anus and I moaned in horror. He shoved a finger into me, although he barely needed to, I had been buggered three times already and my ass was loose enough. I wriggled in his grip but he was strong.

He pushed my face into the duvet, muffling my cries of protest, and then I felt him mount my hips and the hot helmet of his prick rubbing at the slippery cleft of my arse. Paul wanted to bugger his little sister and because he couldn't have her, he was going to do it to me instead. I had gone into this expecting it to be like the other times, but it wasn't.

"Ohh, no, Paul, please!" I sobbed into the depths of the duvet, but then he grunted and he was shoving the stiff head of his penis into the socket of my arse and I went "AAAHH!" in agony. I sprawled nude underneath him on the bed as he forced himself into me and my stomach lurched as I felt him easing his entire length into my hole. Callie's shorts and thong were tangled around one ankle. Her t-shirt was still wrapped around my head, trapping my arms. Paul let my head up so that I could breathe and I sobbed "Oh, please, no, no, no, Paul, please, please don't," but he humped me violently and I moaned "UuunnNNHH!" as his meat tunnelled into my rectum.

"Take me, you little bitch," he gasped, and I didn't know if he was talking to me or to Callie. "Say you like my cock in your arse. Say it." He reached around me and grabbed my own cock in his fist and pulled on it.

"OOOOH!" I squealed, my face contorted, as Paul kept on driving his member into my arse, and the t-shirt covering my face was getting damp with my tears.

"Say you like having my cock in your arse!" he rasped into my ear.

"I love it," I sobbed, "I love it, I love it...ooohh, please...please..."

Saying it made it seem more true. Paul groaned as he came into my rectum and I wept as my own cock responded with a weak spurt of cum. He kept on humping me for several seconds, forcing his dick into me, and I heard squelching noises as his cock slid in and out of my cum-sodden arsehole. I whimpered with shame and humiliation. He squeezed my naked bottom as he urged his prick into my arsehole one last time, then he pulled out of me and left me sprawled on my face, naked and sobbing.

He got off the bed and left the room, and it was several minutes before I could pull myself together enough to roll over and sit up. I pulled the t-shirt off my head and sat on the bed, breathing heavily.

So it had got out of hand. Nobody could have known that Paul had such dark fantasies about his sister; I wiped my eyes and reflected that it was better that he act them out on me, rather than her. I couldn't quite decide whether or not he had, technically speaking, raped me; I had followed him into the bedroom with the express intention of having sex with him. The sex itself had been of a character that I hadn't wanted and I had withdrawn my consent - hadn't I? Hadn't I asked him not to do it? I couldn't quite remember. In any case, he hadn't really been bum-fucking me, he'd been bum-fucking Callie. I had merely been her stand-in.

"You okay?" said a voice. I looked up; John was in the doorway, wearing his t-shirt and shorts, looking at me with concern. "I saw Paul come out," he added, by way of explanation. His eyes roved around the room and he saw Callie's clothes on the floor. He looked at me again and I felt myself about to go.

John came in and sat next to me on the bed and put his arms around me. I wept a little. He stroked me and soothed me and after a few minutes I felt better.

"Sorry," I muttered, wiping my eyes. "Such a strange night. Paul got a bit emotional."

"About Callie, was it?" John said.

"Yeah," I said.

"He's always had a thing about her," John sighed. "I'm glad I'm not attracted to him. I wouldn't want to have to deal with all that baggage he carries around."

"It wasn't even that bad," I said. "I mean, I wanted him. But not that way. He wasn't doing it to me."

"You get used to it, sweetie," said John, and we smiled. "The number of married men I've shagged who were putting somebody else's face on my body, you wouldn't believe."

"I don't know if I'm gonna make a habit of this," I said. "I think this is maybe a one-night thing. Or maybe as long as we're here. I couldn't take the lifestyle."

"You'd be a sad loss," he said. "I've fancied you for years."

"I thought you had," I said with a smile. "I always like it when you flirt with me."

"Yeah, and it's a funny thing," he said. "I'm the only one here who really fancies you, and I haven't even had you."

"Hey, I sucked your cock," I protested, grinning and feeling my face go red. "I wouldn't have done that for anybody else."

He looked into my eyes, an amused expression on his face. Then he leaned forward and we kissed. The memory of what had happened with Paul was already fading. John touched my cock and I felt myself getting hard yet again.

"It's not too late, you know," I whispered as he tenderly kissed my neck.

"What's not," he murmured absently.

"We can still fuck. I mean, if you want to."

"You still up for it?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "I would have thought Paul would have put you off."

"Well...you might want to be gentle with me," I giggled.

John gave my penis a squeeze, and I gasped. I was quietly amazed at myself, so willing to let another man take me when I had never even fantasised about men before. And all John's experience was with men.

"Can I sleep with you?" I asked. "In your bed?"

He chuckled. "Come on, then," he said, rising and holding out his hand.

I took it and he led me across the landing into his room. There was a king-size bed. I lay on it, on my back, and John shut the door and stripped off. He got on the bed and crawled up to me, looking down at me, and smiling.

"You've had the rest," he murmured. "Now have the best."

He took my face in his hands and began to kiss me, his tongue in my mouth, and he lay on top of me so that our cocks and balls were pressed together. At first I was surprised; the other guys had mostly just wanted to fuck my ass, and I'd assumed that was what they all wanted to do to me. But John was treating me not like a sex object, but like a lover. He was running his hands all over my body, and because I was so smooth and hairless it felt incredibly intense. I was already hard, but in only a few moments I was gasping with desire. He caressed my bald skull and his lips were all over my face. Then his hand was holding my cock and pulling on it gently and I sighed softly. John moved down my body and his lips closed around my cock and I moaned, "Ohh, Jesus," as he began to lick and suck me. None of the others had been even slightly interested in my cock; Paul had wanted to pretend that I wasn't even a man.