Desire in the Isles

by Roland Graeme

  Carter didn’t have to be invited twice!

  Chapter Thirteen: Deep Drilling

  In the morning, Carter and Stash compared notes.

  They agreed that they’d enjoyed some unusually intense sex, before they finally went to sleep. Other than that, though, and rather to their disappointment, they’d experienced nothing out of the ordinary during the night.

  “Obviously neither of us is Roderick’s type,” Stash joked.

  “Maybe he prefers straight guys, or he likes virgins,” Carter theorized. “Which leaves us both out of the running, that’s for sure. We’re probably too damn slutty to appeal to his highly refined taste.”

  “Not good enough for a long-dead murderer and rapist to want to fuck—now there’s an encouraging thought.”

  “Never mind, Stash,” Carter said, soothingly. “Rejected by the spirit world, you’ll always be good enough for me. Better than a hand job, as they say.”

  “Thanks, buddy. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you, too!”

  When they checked out, they reported their lack of any supernatural visitation to the pub’s landlord.

  “God be praised,” that worthy declared, fervently.

  “Well, the next time Roderick shows up, give him our best, and tell him we’re sorry we missed him,” Carter said.

  The Rock Dove’s next scheduled stop was an oil rig, in the North Sea to the southwest of the island of Benbecula.

  When their destination came into view, Carter observed it with a certain dismay. The platform rig rose out of the water like a huge abstract metal sculpture. In stark contrast to its surroundings, it had an aggressively utilitarian, manmade look to it.

  “I’m no tree-hugging environmental fanatic,” Carter protested. “But still, after all the unspoiled natural scenery we’ve seen on this trip, I think that oil rig is damn ugly!”

  “I can’t say I disagree,” Stash said. “But it’s a fact of life here. The exploitation of natural resources, I mean. And I’m curious to interview the men who live and work on such a rig. For all practical purposes, they’re on their own isolated, artificial island.”

  Lowering the dinghy, Robert ferried Stash and Carter over to the rig and dropped them off. The two men planned to stay overnight. They spent the day touring the rig and interviewing some of the workers.

  After dinner in the mess hall, the two Americans were separated. They’d bunk on different levels of the rig, which was a somewhat confusing labyrinth. In recognition of their status as guests, they’d each been assigned a single occupancy room, which they gathered was considered a perk by the workers.

  “I’m tired, for some reason. Can’t wait to get a good night’s sleep. See you tomorrow,” Stash said.

  “Yeah. Provided I don’t get lost in this maze!” Carter exclaimed.

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and stumble across some likely prospect while negotiating it.”

  “Oh, so you don’t mind if I go on the prowl?”

  Stash seemed surprised by the question. “Since when do you need my permission?”

  Carter eventually found the room he’d been assigned to sleep in. He hadn’t been in the dormitory area for an hour before he realized what went on. There was an almost palpable atmosphere of unrestrained sexuality. It was almost like being in a gay steam bath in a big city back home in the States! Doors were left open, and guys mingled freely together in the rooms and hallways in all stages of dress and undress.

  When Carter went to take a piss, he discovered that the john walls were defaced with the kind of blatant graffiti he associated with the sleaziest of back room bars. Wanted, one good-looking body to be my roommate. Must be well-hung and interested in cocksucking and bum fucking a couple of nights a week! was one lewd inscription which really got his juices flowing as he took a long, leisurely leak into the urinal under the scrawl. Hey, guys, the queer shift foreman will suck your asshole and give you 20 pounds for it! was another. Underneath, somebody had scrawled, Hell, that’s nothing, I’ll pay you 30! More, if your asshole’s nice and tasty! A third graffiti artist had written I’ll see your 30 and raise you to 40, all of you dirty-minded motherfuckers!

  To one side was inscribed the classic invitation, Show hard-on for hot blow job.

  It was disgusting—but undeniably stimulating.

  Carter showered, while cruising and being cruised quite shamelessly. He noticed some particularly good-looking guys, loitering in the shower area or wandering the hallways with nothing but towels wrapped tightly around their waists, worn in such a way that they showed off a lot of thigh and crotch. A couple of the workers dispensed with towels and prowled about nonchalantly, arrogantly nude.

  Excited, starting to get horny now that he had recovered from the fatigue of his trip, Carter went back to his room, threw his own damp towel aside, and lay down stark naked on the bed—facing the door of the small room, which he strategically left ajar. Subtlety, he guessed, would be wasted in this hypersexual environment.

  He spread his legs wide and casually pulled a handful of the freshly laundered white cotton sheet over his crotch, and his cock, even though it was limp, made the sheet bulge up like a tiny mountain peak. He lay there with his legs spread and his torso bare so that anyone walking past could see the new meat in the barracks. Trying to look as blasé as possible, he relaxed, waiting.

  Several guys passed by the door, some dressed, some in their underwear, some draped in towels, some naked—whatever their attire or lack thereof, they all glanced in, and most of them paused to look at Carter more closely, but for a while he was left alone. Impatient, Carter fingered his dick and he could feel it beginning to stiffen and throb under the thin sheet.

  Before long, two young guys walked by his door. They moved on slowly, hesitated, but then they came back and stood in the doorway. One was white, very fair-skinned and blond, while the other, by contrast, was black. They’d evidently just come from the showers.

  “Hi, there,” the white guy said boldly, smiling at Carter. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” He spoke with a slight accent—not Scots, which Carter found novel, and intriguing.

  Carter grinned at both men invitingly. “Yeah, I just got in today. My name’s Carter.”

  Once again, his own accent betrayed his nationality.

  “Oh, we thought you were a new worker, transferred here. But you must one of those two Yanks I’ve heard about. From the boat anchored off there in the distance? You’ve got something to do with a TV show, don’t you?”

  “That’s right,” Carter admitted. “But I’m not in the mood to talk about work. Tell me, what do you guys do for recreation around here?”

  “Anything we can away with,” the other white man joked. “This time of night, between dinner and bedtime—we call it the cocktail hour. Men visit each other in their rooms. A lot of drinking goes on behind those closed doors. Other things have to been known to go on, too.”

  Emboldened by the suggestive tone in the guy’s voice, and the way both he and his dark-skinned friend were looking at him, Carter said, “Sounds like fun. I could sure use some action. You guys know where I could find any around here?”

  “Around here, you have to make your own,” the white dude said, and he laughed. “You want some company? Can my friend and I come in?” he asked eagerly.

  “Sure.” Carter could feel his prick tense and throb with lewd anticipation of a three-way.

  As soon as the two men were in his room, they both dropped their towels and displayed a perfectly matched set of cocks and balls—their genitals enticingly alike in everything except skin color.

  The white guy, who was blond and blue-eyed—Scandinavian, Carter guessed—had a long thick cock which hung slightly to the left, revealing a heavy, drooping ball sac under its bulk.

  The black guy’s dick—although it hung straight down—was every bit as long as his white buddy’s, but it was, if anything, even fatter around. Carter could see the outline of his dark balls, lightly coated with crinkly bla
ck hairs, protruding out on either side of his charcoal-hued cockshaft.

  Carter stared hungrily at the black stud’s meaty endowment, which was now pulsating and quivering, and rising rapidly into an enormous erection. Carter wasn’t prejudiced when it came to his sex partners, except perhaps when it was a question of cock size. There, he fervently believed that bigger was better.

  “I have to ask,” Carter blurted out. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Huh? What do you mean?” the black man asked.

  “Working here.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, no offense, but with your skin color—”

  “Oh, that. Not the first time someone’s wondered about it. But I was born here. I may be descended from immigrants, as opposed to belonging to a clan, but I’m as Scottish as anybody. And proud of it.”

  “Sorry,” Carter said. “I’m not racist. The truth is, I think you’re damn hot.”

  “Forget it, man. Same here. If I’m prejudiced at all, it’s only to the extent that I like to fuck white guys. As a matter of fact, I want your white ass.”

  “Help yourself.”

  As Carter reached brazenly for his stiff prick, the black guy said, “My name’s Brian and this is my friend Roald, who’s from Norway,” pointing to the white man and confirming Carter’s suspicion. “He likes to get fucked—and I really get off on being blown, and shoving my dick up a hot tight bum.”

  “You’ve come to the right guy,” Carter told them brazenly, getting up and closing and locking the door. “Myself, I like just about everything. So, you both work here? Are you guys roommates?”

  “Yes, and lovers,” Roald admitted. “I’m damn hot for Brian. I’m his boy, his bitch. I’ll do anything he asks. We both like a little variety now and then, that’s all.”

  “I like a lot of variety, men. Let’s fuck and suck!” Carter’s cock was hard and hot, sticking straight out from his crotch like a flagpole set in the side of a building.

  He lay back on the bed and he groaned with pleasure when Brian put his big, warm, black hand on his cock, squeezing it just under the head. Carter stretched out on the mattress, closed his eyes, lifted his ass, and spread his legs out in front of him, relaxing and luxuriating in the pleasure of having the other man’s hand massaging his cock and balls.

  Roald went to the other side of the bed and he began caressing Carter’s thighs—then, leaving one hand on Carter’s thigh, he put his other hand on Carter’s chest, rubbing and squeezing his pecs persistently.

  Carter was getting turned on very fast, especially when Roald’s palm slid over his stiffening nipples. His cock pointed straight up in the air as he surrendered himself completely to the other two men’s advances, exulting in this foreplay, enjoying the feeling of having his crotch groped, his thigh muscle rubbed, and his nipples teased, all at the same time.

  Brian’s hand slipped down under his tightening balls and he began fingering Carter’s tingling asshole. He pressed the blunt tip of his middle finger hard against Carter’s scrotum, and then rubbed it back and forth, massaging the entire hairy area from the base of Carter’s balls to his asshole.

  Carter opened and closed his asshole, pulling and pushing on his sphincter muscles. And, as Brian rubbed his hot finger closer and closer to the puckered hole, Carter increased the lewd pulsations of his anal opening.

  Finally, just at the moment when he was relaxing his hole, Brian dug his finger into it. Carter pulled in his asshole in an instinctive response and could feel Brian’s thick finger being drawn up into his hole. The sensation of being penetrated anally like that was wildly exciting, as though he was actually sucking the finger right into his horny asshole with the muscles he used to shit with!

  “Oh, that’s a hot hole you’ve got there, Yank,” Brian whispered. “Do you like to have it played with?”

  “Love it,” Carter gasped.

  “Nice cock, too—!”

  Groaning with lust, Brian bent over, put his lips on the head of Carter’s huge erection, and began sucking and licking at the tip of it, keeping his finger working in and out of Carter’s hotly pulsating asshole. Roald, by this time, was kissing Carter’s pecs and licking at his swollen nipples, sending the American into a wild frenzy of erotic desire.

  Shit! Carter gloated. What a pair of hot studs! What luck, finding them out here in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the sea. Both of them working on me—getting me so fucking hot! A salt and pepper team. Black and white. The best of both worlds!

  Next, Brian got on top of Carter, flopped his gigantic black dick onto his chest, and spread his firm mahogany thighs, placing one on either side of him.

  Carter could look down the length of his own torso and see Brian’s black cock staring him right in the face, the charcoal-grey skin of his balls resting heavily on his pecs, and he could feel Brian’s sweaty ass crack pressing tightly against the flesh of his belly.

  Carter squirmed his body slightly back and forth, gripped Brian’s solidly-muscled buttocks in his hands, and yanked the black ass cheeks apart in order to force Brian’s ass crack to open even wider—Carter desperately wanted to feel the moist flesh of the guy’s hot black manhole pressing wetly against his own naked belly.

  Brian got the message, and he obligingly ground his bare ass harder down on Carter, and then he put his own hands back on top of the American’s. He helped Carter spread his black ass, and he ground it down tight. Carter could now feel the wiry black hairs of Brian’s crack crushed against him, and then he could feel the perspiring wetness of Brian’s anal opening grinding itself hard against him.

  Brian’s cock was growing bigger all the time as he sat, spread-thighed, on Carter’s muscular chest. Carter could see the gigantic length of that dark whang thumping up and down between his pecs with each urgent throb. He saw a thick drop of pearly jism ooze from the glossy black piss slit in the tip of the cock and drip sluggishly down to his chest.

  “Want to suck it?” Brian whispered, urgently.

  “Hell, yeah! Fuck my face with that goddamn thing!” Carter demanded.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t resist his wild desire to taste that cock for a moment longer! His hungry mouth filled to overflowing with saliva, and he lunged at Brian’s prick, sucking it madly into his mouth.

  The guy’s tool was so big and hard that it more than filled Carter’s mouth, but he went after it hungrily, enclosing it from its wet tip right down to its thick base in the suctioning flesh of his mouth.

  “Ah, Jesus, man!” Brian shouted. “Suck my big black dick, you dirty cocksucker! Yeah, you know you want to. I can tell you like it. Go all the way down on me. Oh. God damn you! God damn you, suck!”

  Brian’s cock was so fat that Carter could hardly roll it around inside his mouth, and when he took its entire length in, he could feel the thick head of that turgid black cock pressing heavily against the back of his throat. He rubbed his tongue frantically over as much of the ebony flesh as it could reach to coax the hot sperm out of it while he sucked it.

  Brian responded by thrusting his huge fuck tool incessantly into Carter’s willing mouth, fucking his oral cavity with the mindless need of a sex-starved maniac. He rammed his rod brutally into Carter’s mouth without any concern for Carter’s possible discomfort, his huge ball sac swinging heavily and impacting against Carter’s saliva-dripping chin on each thrust.

  But his cocksucker loved it—every inch of it, as his mouth was raped by that oversized prick!

  While Carter was avidly sucking on Brian’s hot, burning member, Roald pushed his hand down between Carter’s legs and took over the job of playing with his butt. The Norwegian began finger-fucking his asshole roughly. Carter grunted with delight around the meat filling his mouth when he felt Roald’s finger slide deep inside him and probe his hot manhole.

  Carter spread his thighs wider and relaxed his ass cheeks so that Roald could get deeper into him, as far as his third knuckle. All the while, Carter kept his mouth working harder an
d faster on Brian’s throbbing cock, pulling at it with his tongue and even with his teeth in his cocksucking frenzy. Brian didn’t seem to mind the rough blow job. He thrust even more fiercely into Carter, forcing his black cockhead deep into the American’s open, waiting throat, fucking it exactly as he’d fuck another man’s greased asshole—deeply, urgently, with no letup.

  “Take it, you pretty white boy!” Brian demanded, grabbing a handful of Carter’s long hair to keep his head in place, with Carter’s mouth pressed firmly against his wiry-haired groin. “Keep your mouth all the way down on that cock of mine!”

  Yeah! Big, black dick in my mouth, filling it, filling my throat, fucking it, choking me! Carter thought, exulting in the two men’s use of his body.

  His own dick, painfully swollen, a drop of sperm seeping from the burning, distended slit in its tip, felt on the verge of ejaculation, even though nobody was touching it at the moment. His asshole throbbed hotly around the finger buried in its depths, reaming it out. Fucking my ass, you hot blond bastard! Carter wanted to yell. Oh, Christ, you sexy blond bastard, you’re fucking my ass with your finger while I’m sucking your stud lover’s big black cock!

  Then Carter felt the first spasm of orgasm pulse through the stiff core of Brian’s cock—it was as though an invisible fist had suddenly grasped the shaft and squeezed it, forcing the come out like toothpaste being squeezed from a tube!

  Carter heard Brian moan and curse—“Oh, motherfuck, I’m coming, you hot cocksucking prickteaser! Damn!”—and, a second later, Brian’s huge cock blasted its full charge of sperm deep into Carter’s throat. “Take it—swallow it—ah!”

  Brian spurted again and again, helplessly, filling Carter’s mouth with his unusually thick jism until Carter couldn’t swallow it rapidly enough and he had to let some of it overflow and escape from the sides of his slurping mouth.