Then—shuddering—he plunged his cock far up into Carter’s warm, sucking mouth and exploded his full load of jism into Carter’s convulsively swallowing throat.
The come ran down out of Carter’s overloaded mouth onto Liam’s sweaty, slippery belly—but still it came, load after load of sweet, sticky semen.
After it was all over, Carter rolled over onto his back on the mattress, his cock still hard and throbbing in the aftermath of the furiously satisfying sex he had just enjoyed with his handsome, sexy, uninhibited pickup. He looked over at Liam, who was lying flat on his back on the bed, his arms and legs and torso shiny with sweat and his own cock glistening with semen.
Both men lay there in the warm, dark hotel room, breathing hard and letting the hot air from the furnace vents flow over them and dry their bodies. Finally, Liam sighed sleepily, groped for Carter’s hand and squeezed it in his firm, sweaty grip.
“Now we can go shower,” Liam said.
“Yeah. Now, we really need it! You go first,” Carter invited his bedmate. “I’m too fucked out to move right now. I’m going to need a few minutes to catch my breath.”
But Liam didn’t stir right away, either.
“I need a minute, too. Oh, by the way, if I forgot to say it before—welcome to Scotland,” Liam said, and he laughed under his breath.
Carter grinned as he hugged Liam closely against him. “Thanks, buddy. That’s quite some welcoming committee the tourist board has here. I think I’m going to like it here in the Highlands!”
Chapter Four: An Erotic Reveille
Carter woke up in the morning, the light of the early-morning sun barely penetrating the razor-thin slits in the venetian blinds which shielded the hotel room’s windows.
He yawned and stretched, and then he discovered that Liam was still fast asleep next to him, pressed close against his back, with his knees up against Carter’s knees, and his crotch pushed up against Carter’s ass—so that, by wriggling his butt slightly, Carter could savor the contact of Liam’s naked cock between his buns.
Carter moved discreetly as he rubbed his body against his bedmate’s, not wanting to disturb Liam, and enjoying the proximity of his warm flesh. But Liam also stirred, shoving his legs straight out in front of him, and thrusting his huge cock into profile. Carter recalled the previous night’s activities. Both men had gone down the hall separately and enjoyed a long, hot shower. And then, squeaky clean, relaxed, and smelling of soap, they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, without so much as a sheet covering their nude bodies. It wasn’t necessary to cover themselves in the overheated hotel room.
After stretching, Liam went back to cuddling himself against Carter’s broad back, but he pressed his dick up hard against the other guy’s ass crack. Carter responded by thrusting his ass out and rubbing it sensuously against the cock, which had already begun to pulsate and expand.
Carter turned over slightly so that he was lying on his back. And as he did so, he could feel the pounding pressure of a growing erection begin in his own dick. It began to swell, until it was standing stiff and straight up from his crotch. Morning wood!
Liam noticed. He reached over and placed his hand on Carter’s prick, rubbing it and groping down underneath for Carter’s big balls.
Then Liam bent down and took Carter’s hard-on into his mouth, slurping and sliding his tongue all around its swollen head, nibbling gently at the tip of it. Next, with one hand clasped firmly around the throbbing base of Carter’s remarkably rigid shaft, he began sucking in earnest, massaging Carter’s cock with his hand and his mouth simultaneously.
Carter lay back and enjoyed the early-morning blow job, and he gyrated his hips around to increase the movement and pressure. He already had more just a piss hard-on, and his meaty erection quivered with agonizing pleasure within the other stud’s hot, wet mouth.
He looked down at Liam’s head resting on his belly, at the guy’s wide-stretched lips under the sexy mustache—lips which were quickly sliding up and down around his cock, coating it with warm, wet saliva and teasing it with a rapidly darting tongue.
Then Liam took his other hand and pressed it down between Carter’s buttocks. He ran his fingers up and down the entire length of the groove, pressing them lightly against the rim of Carter’s puckered asshole.
As he sucked the American’s cock, he drooled saliva down onto the root of Carter’s hard-on so that it ran down over his balls and into the crack of his ass. Then, while Liam fingered Carter’s willingly relaxed and yielding ass, he picked up the saliva and moistened Carter’s asshole with it. He plunged his finger in and out of the aperture slowly and provocatively, while still working hard on Carter’s prick with his mouth.
Carter lay passively on the bed at first, but when he felt that initial thrust of Liam’s finger into his asshole he grunted, and then he thrust his butt up in the air and spread his legs apart. He felt a warm, tingling response to the pressure begin to smolder deep inside his anus, and he gasped as the heat spread into his balls and through the core of his stiff, increasingly agitated cock.
Liam’s finger plunged up into his asshole, exactly like a steadily rimming tongue, and it made wet, sloppy sounds when it pressed deeper into his hot rectal opening, fucking him. As it entered, pushing its way insistently inside him, Carter felt Liam’s digit exploring the tender walls of his anal canal, massaging every inch of the passageway up deep inside him.
“That’s right. Suck and fuck, buddy,” Carter encouraged Liam in a choked whisper. “Oh, Christ, man—suck my cock and fuck my hot, horny asshole with your goddamn finger!”
His words aroused Liam, and immediately Carter could feel that finger jammed between his butt cheeks start to thrust itself much more roughly into him. Each time it plunged deep into his guts and was pulled part of the way out again, it made him feel as though he was being penetrated and fucked by a miniature prick. The anal stimulation was frustrating, in a sense, because it made Carter long to feel something larger and harder jammed up his butt. But it was still a wildly, perversely erotic sensation, lying back and allowing the other man to penetrate his asshole like that.
Carter forced his anus to stay relaxed and let that finger fuck it, despite his growing excitement. Shamelessly, he spread his muscular thighs even wider apart for the guy who was lying next to him on the bed and who, obviously, was more than content to focus all of his sexual attention on Carter’s cock and asshole, at least for the time being.
And, as Carter lay back and kept his legs spread whorishly wide, his asshole willingly violated by that fucking finger, he felt his dick swell even thicker inside Liam’s sucking mouth, and he suddenly wanted to fuck the other man—and fuck him good and hard and deep—at least in the mouth and throat, if not up the ass.
So he rammed his hard tool even more urgently into Liam’s mouth, thrusting it up fiercely against Liam’s obscenely wet, open lips and deep into his mouth.
As Carter fucked his throat more energetically, Liam took it all greedily and he only attacked the meat which threatened to choke him more hungrily than before, shoving its head far down into his throat, keeping the entire length of the grossly swollen shaft locked inside his mouth.
At the same time, he doubled the piston-like pace of the finger with which he was fucking Carter’s ass, thrusting it even deeper into that butch asshole the guy was spreading wide open for him.
Carter twisted his head, looked down, and saw that Liam had pinned his own dick between his belly and Carter’s leg, and he was rubbing it furiously against him in an attempt to bring himself off.
Jesus, how fucking wild, how horny! Carter thought excitedly. The bastard’s finger-fucking the hell out of my asshole, I’m about to come in his mouth and choke him with my jism, and he’s so goddamn horny he’s going to shoot all over my leg!
Seeing just how wildly aroused Liam was, thinking about exactly what the other naked young stud was doing to him, seemed to push Carter over the edge. He felt his sperm well up inside his balls.<
br />
There was a searing spasm in his prick which warned him it was about to ejaculate. And then, suddenly, as Liam roughly extracted his finger from Carter’s asshole, only to ram it all the way back in, Carter felt a wrenching, spasmodic response rush through his loins—and at the same time a burning-hot load of come shot uncontrollably out of his prick and flew into Liam’s mouth.
Liam shuddered from head to foot when he felt the first thick wad impact against the back of his plugged throat. Then he tasted the sour-flavored, yogurt-textured jism fill his mouth. Suddenly he too spurted, ejaculating over and over again, all over Carter’s twitching thigh muscle.
Carter felt the other man’s come wetting him, its heat burning his skin wherever it landed, and the excitement of knowing that he had coaxed an orgasm out of Liam made him shoot even more thickly into Liam’s steadily-sucking mouth.
He filled Liam’s throat until his jism was dripping back down along his cockshaft and escaping from between his hungry cocksucker’s pursed lips to drip down onto his crotch—at the same time throwing his ass up into the air like a wild man, wanting to get every inch of Liam’s stiffened, probing finger inside him while his anal muscles closed around its bulk and squeezed and spasmed in delirious orgasmic pleasure.
Then the two guys lay on the bed quietly, with Liam keeping his finger pressed tightly inside Carter’s hot asshole and his mouth around the American’s hot, wet cock, licking it with unabated passion.
At last Liam interrupted his sucking and swabbing of Carter’s cock long enough to speak.
“I believe that was the wakeup call you requested, sir,” he gasped.
Breathlessly, Carter laughed. “I’m wide awake now, all right, thanks to you. Come on. Let’s haul our asses out of bed and get dressed. I’m ready for breakfast.”
“I think I just had mine,” Liam joked. “It tasted like clotted cream! But if you’re talking about food—yes, I’m ready for that, too. I’ll join you.”
Chapter Five: A Rendezvous
Reluctantly, Liam and Carter got up, showered, and dressed. After they left the room and stood waiting for the elevator, they suddenly lost control of themselves and both men began feeling up each other’s crotch and ass—right there in the corridor.
Carter was immediately so turned on again that he wanted to drag Liam back inside the room, tear off his clothes, and lick and suck every part of his naked body, but especially his asshole and his cock. But he restrained himself when the elevator came, and—laughing like a couple of horny schoolboys—the two butch numbers went down to the hotel’s dining room for a huge and very Scottish breakfast, served buffet style.
There was “black pudding,” which was actually blood sausage, along with poached eggs, bacon, potato scones, thick porridge, and smoked herring.
“I’m going to have a little of everything,” Carter declared. “I need to get my strength back, after all that sex.”
“Oh, you seem to have survived the ordeal,” Liam teased him. “We’re going to have to figure out some way to get together again, up there in Portree, before we have to go our separate ways.”
“Definitely. Don’t worry. We’ll manage it, somehow.”
“After all,” Liam said, suggestively. “We never even got around to anal.”
“Really? I seem to recall my asshole being stimulated, and quite effectively.”
“I mean real anal,” Liam specified. “You in me, me in you—whichever way you like it.”
“Yeah, quite an oversight. We’ll have to rectify that—so to speak,” Carter assured him.
“I forgot to ask before. Are you a top or a bottom?”
“I’m neither, or rather I’m both. I don’t believe in such labels, or in restricting myself to certain activities. Not when I’m in bed with a hot guy. And you’re a very hot guy, Liam.”
“Carter, you’re embarrassing me. You’re making me blush!”
“You’ve got a lot to blush about. Both of us have,” Carter retorted.
Well nourished, and indeed rather stuffed, they returned to their room to pack. After checking out of the hotel, they went to catch their bus north.
As Liam had predicted, it was a leisurely trip which was often interrupted, when the bus stopped frequently to let off or take on passengers. The highway wended its way through small, isolated rural communities, separated by vast expanses of cultivated agricultural land. At one point, the driver had to stop to allow a flock of sheep to cross the road. While they did so, the burly young shepherd, whose alert dog kept the sheep moving, engaged the driver in a lengthy, gossipy conversation. None of the passengers showed the slightest sign of impatience at the delay, which in all probability was by no means uncommon in that part of the world.
At last the bus rolled into Portree. This was another seaport, and essentially it was Armadale writ large.
The crew of Off the Beaten Track was staying at one hotel. The archaeologists were booked at another. Both hotels, however, were located near each other, downtown, near the town’s busy harbor. Carter and Liam had to separate, for the time being, but they promised to reconnect before nightfall.
Stash Pulaski greeted Carter warmly. “Did you have a good trip?” he asked.
“It couldn’t have been better,” Carter said, suppressing a smirk.
“Tell me about this guy Liam whom I talked to on the phone last night.”
“Oh, he’s just a fellow traveler I ran into. We sort of clicked.”
“Define clicked.”
“We were compatible,” Carter said, enigmatically. “Liam is a nice kid, that’s all. It was pleasant to have company—someone to talk to.”
Stash, Carter noticed, looked a bit dubious, but he didn’t press the issue.
In acknowledgement of his star status, Stash had a single room at the hotel. Carter, Alonzo, and Bill would share another, larger room. Many hotel rooms were equipped with twin beds, but this one had triple ones.
Carter’s first priority was to unpack his camera equipment and make sure it had survived the transatlantic journey intact. Nestled in foam rubber inside sturdy packing cases, the cameras were unlikely to have sustained any damage, but Carter was anxious to check them out. He had, in fact, no fewer than three cameras. One was the expensive, hi tech model he used most of the time. The second camera, virtually identical to the first but an older model, was reserved as a backup, in case—God forbid!—anything happened to the first one. The third camera, smaller and lighter, and thus easier to manipulate, was useful for filming in confined spaces—such as the interior of the boat, as Carter soon found out.
Like the other crew members, he’d had some of his clothes and other personal possessions shipped to Portree ahead of time. Carter gave these items only a cursory inspection. After all, in a pinch he could acquire basic items of clothing and such necessities as soap, toothpaste, and shampoo, anywhere—even, he presumed, here in the wilds of the Hebrides!
Over lunch in a nearby restaurant, Stash introduced Carter to the men he’d be traveling and working with. It was an all-male group.
Their boat was named the Rock Dove, after one of the many species of birds which thrived in the region. The captain was Duncan Munro, a lean, tanned, grizzled man in his forties, whom Carter immediately pegged as an archetypal Hot Daddy type. Carter would fuck the dude, gladly! But, restraining himself, he tried to keep things on a polite, businesslike footing, as he met the members of the Rock Dove’s crew.
These were only four in number. They were all young Scots—fair-skinned, athletic, and macho. Their names were Robert, Martin, Hamish, and Niall. Robert was the mate, second in command after Munro. The other three would act as the able-bodied seamen, with Niall doubling as the ship’s cook.
Duncan explained that they were in the business of conducting chartered tours around the islands.
“We know these waters well,” he assured Carter. “You’re in safe hands.”
I hope so, Carter told himself.
As for Off the Beaten Track, t
he show was represented by only four men. In addition to Stash and Carter, there were Alonzo and Bill, who’d accompanied Stash to Skye. The two men’s duties were somewhat vague. They were Stash’s “assistants,” there to do anything and everything which didn’t involve actual filming, which was of course Carter’s job. Now that the travel and living arrangements had been mostly made, ahead of time, their duties would consist mostly of fetching and carrying, including hauling the equipment. Alonzo, however, had one additional job. A tough-looking, tattooed Hispanic straight dude, he was, rather incongruously, in charge of doing Stash’s makeup, whenever it was determined that the star of the show needed to have his appearance artificially enhanced for Carter’s camera.
Alonzo was single, but Bill was an amiable married man, a little older than Carter.
So—there’d be a total of nine men on board the Rock Dove, Carter realized. Cozy!
Stash wasted no time. After lunch, he wanted everybody to accompany him to the harbor. There, they’d film sequences introducing the viewers of the show to the group, and showing the boat, inside and out. Stash also wanted to make a quick tour of what sightseeing highlights Portree had to offer.
Carter was impressed by the Rock Dove. The boat had been built in the 1950s as a private yacht. Since then, she’d passed through several owners, each of whom had taken care to keep her well-maintained. Sleek-hulled, and constructed from fine woods, with well-worn polished brass fittings, she was equipped with both sails and a powerful engine.
“We use the engine mostly while berthing, and to negotiate narrow, crowded spaces. Most of the harbors on the islands, you’ll see, fall into that category,” Duncan explained. “Otherwise, if there’s even a breath of wind, we rely on the sails.”
Below decks, there were four cabins. Captain Munro and his mate Robert shared one. The other three crew members shared the second one. The third and fourth cabins, intended for paying passengers, would be occupied by the film crew, two men to each one. The living spaces, Carter saw, were small, but they were exceptionally well appointed and comfortable, even luxurious.
Desire in the Isles Page 5
