By: Lucas Miller
I woke up with the worst headache I had ever experienced. It was nearly noon. Kevin had gone to off to work a few hours earlier, and I hadn't even heard him get up. The alcohol I had abundantly consumed the night before was taking its revenge.
With rubbery muscles I managed to get out of bed and move down to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Downstairs, I heard the soft chatter of the elderly owner of the house and her guest. Inside the bathroom I pissed for what seemed to be thirty minutes, and then returned to my room to get some clothes.
I stunk. I smelled very bad. I had slept in my alcohol and cigarette smelling clothes all night. I also think I may have vomited on myself in the middle of the night. What I needed was a long hot shower. I gathered my clean clothes and retraced my steps to the bathroom.
I undressed and went to work at rigging the shower. It was an awful task. I wondered if all bathrooms in England were like the one that I had to use every morning. My landlady, Mrs. Collins, must have bought the porcelain tub when she was in her twenties, and its fixtures were probably taken from an even older tub.
In order to take a shower (if that's what you could call it), you had to connect the showerhead to the tub's faucet. It screwed on. Once connected, however, there wasn't any place to hang it. I had to hold onto it throughout my shower. The thing was only about two feet long, so I couldn't stand up with it. Instead, I had to either sit or kneel in the tub. I wondered what was going through Mrs. Collins' mind the day she saw this in the store. She may have had a drinking problem at the time, too.
I completed the pre-shower ritual and turned the water on to get it warmed up. Mrs. Collins had warned Kevin and me that we weren't to have a shower any longer than eight minutes (I don't know why eight). I quickly got into the tub and squatted down. I poured the water over me with my eyes closed.
I had flashes of what had occurred the night before. Had I really fucked a stranger on the train? And Kevin, he looked like an old pro screwing that guy. I smiled at the images of Kevin pounding the man's ass. My cock began to grow. I stopped myself from jerking off, knowing that I didn't have time to waste in my shower. I went back to the task of washing myself. I was starting to feel a little better.
My cock was begging me to touch it. It stood straight out from my body, but I ignored it. It would have to wait until I was done.
With my shower nearly done, I reached for the towel on the floor and began drying my hair. I turned the water off, stood up, and continued drying my body. Then, without warning, the door opened. My fear was that Mrs. Collins was coming in and she would see me with my six-and-a-half inch erection pointing toward her.
Instead, her grandson Mitchell strolled in. Mitchell visited his grandmother frequently, but never really spoke to Kevin or me. To be fair, we never spoke to him. He was probably about five years older than we were, quiet and shy. He had a trim build with blond hair and green eyes. I would say he was attractive, but not stunning. No one I would pick out of a crowd.
When he saw me he was already four or five steps into the bathroom. He startled a moment, and then I noticed his eyes drop to my hard dick. "Sorry, thought it was vacant." He was wearing a white dress shirt and dark dress pants. I think he worked at a bank. "You almost done in here?" His hands went inside his trousers' pockets and he adjusted his cock.
"Yeah, be done in a second," I replied, sensing his interest in me. I made no attempt to hide my erection. "If you want, you can wait. I'll be out of here in no time."
He shut the door and went to the toilet where he took a seat. "Are you sure I wasn't interrupting?" He nodded at my cock.
I laughed. "No. I was just thinking about something and…"
"Something came up?" He gave me a grin.
"Yes. Something came up," I chuckled. I stepped out of the tub, my cock leading the way. Mitchell watched me the entire time. Although I was almost dry, I continued to move the towel over my body while facing him. He appeared to be very interested in seeing me rub my cock with the towel. Occasionally he would drop his hand in his lap and casually rub his crotch.
"What about you? Are you here for a nice eight minute shower or to jerk that off?" I asked nodding at his crotch, where his fingers continued to casually rub what was now the obvious outline of a semi-erect cock.
Despite the rubbing he was doing, he seemed stunned by my words, but managed to answer. "I came in for a pee." His eyes moved back to my cock. "But maybe a nice jerk off would be in order." He checked my face for a reaction. My smile indicated I was up for whatever.
Standing up, he undid his belt and unzipped his pants. To my surprise he wasn't wearing underwear. His uncut cock sprung out. He clutched it, began to stroke himself to a full erection.
His dick was about the same length and width as mine, but I was turned on by the flap of skin over the tip. As he stroked himself, the head became more and more exposed. A small amount of pre-cum was at its slit.
I walked over to him, and we stood facing each other. He smelled of coffee and cheap cologne, but it didn't stop me from pressing my mouth to his. At first he was tense and didn't reciprocate my kiss. Then his tongue pushed into my mouth and he relaxed.
We embraced as we French kissed. Our cocks rubbed against each other while our hands explored the other's ass. I found his hole and pushed my index finger against it. He kissed me harder and repeated the action on me. His finger, however, slipped inside me. I tried to do the same, but was unable to penetrate him.
He broke away from me. "We don't have much time. My grandmother is expecting to go to the Shoppes in a few minutes," he said, removing his finger from my ass.
I took a step back to take another look at his cock. It was drooling pre-cum. I dropped to my knees and licked the juices from his exposed head. "Hurry," he said.
I took his cock into my mouth and began sucking on him the way the stranger on the train had done to me. I must have done a good job, because he was starting to moan and breathe deeply above me.
I put as much of his dick into my mouth as I could while I held his balls in my hand. He seemed to enjoy me pulling at them. His juices continued to leak out of the tip of his luscious cock. I don't think I had tasted anything so good.
As he got closer to erupting in my mouth, his hips started swaying, then thrusting. He groaned probably loud enough for his grandmother to hear if she didn't have trouble hearing, then grabbed my hair to pull me off of him. I put my arms around his legs and held on tightly wanting to taste all of his juices.
Realizing that I was willing to suck him dry, he let go of my hair. I lowered my mouth as far as I could on his cock. The tip touched deep in the back of my throat. I managed not to choke. My whole mouth gripped his dick and he started spurting his cum down my throat. I barely had to swallow.
I pulled his cock out about halfway, running my tongue over his shaft and up to the tip. I cleaned the remaining cum from him, and then pushed away from him. I watched as his cock softened, and the once exposed head was again covered by a hood of skin. Sometime during this encounter I had squirted my load over his legs and on the floor.
I looked up at him. He had sweat coming off his forehead and he looked flushed. "I better check on my grandmother," he said. With that he put his limp cock in his pants and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
By the looks of things, my time in London was definitely going to be one I would never forget!
Now that you've read this story, why not post a comment, give it a star rating and/or share it with others.