Gang Bang Tim - Part one

Tim woke to the incessant sound of the alarm ringing loud and buzzing and resounding through his hung-over tired brain. Groggily he stretched out to turn off the infuriating device, which true to luck fell off the bedside table causing him to lean over the side of the bed to find the dratted timepiece to turn it off. Annoyed he sleepily held the now silent clock to his breast and attempted to go back to sleep.

As the sound of the alarm was still ringing in his ears he pressed the offending clock even harder against his chest and alcohol confused ordered the ‘bloody thing to stop.’ As the damned device refused to listen to mental commands Tim grudgingly opened one reddened eye to give it the evil eye when a small portion of alcohol moved and let his brain now understand that it was not the clock at fault – it was the front door bell. Worse than that it was now one am and he had only been to bed for twenty minutes.

The realisation of his error woke the befuddled man up and deciding his boxers and vest would do as suitable covering he trudged warily downstairs cursing who ever it was who was now banging on his front door. Throwing it open he squinted his alcohol inflamed eyes to complain.
“What the….,” he started when his open mouth was covered with a soft melting set of young lips and his head was held lovingly by a pair of strong, sweet smelling arms. The kiss was soft and sweet and Tim found his body responding to familiar sensations as finally his befuddled brain caught up to the fact as to who was kissing him so deliciously.

“Arun,” he whispered into the open lips of his soft assaulter.
“You remember Arun,” the broken English voice which sang of hazy, juicy summer nights and afternoons broke off the kiss to whisper just as gently back.
Tim grabbed back the youthful figure and reciprocated the kiss. The boy had been wonderful and just the summer tonic for a jaded thirty-five year old who was so lost in looking up his own arse he was letting life go by him. He recalled the day they had met. He had been sitting on that especial arse nursing his second drink of the day and wondering how long it would take him to get so drunk again when a delightful Moroccan dark-skinned beauty had leaned over him and whispered.
“You want girl?” the soft broken honeyed voice had insinuated itself past his alcoholic defence.

“Err- No,” he had looked up to say sternly and found himself lost in the deep brown eyes of the youth who had addressed him. All Tim could see was hot deep passion staring back at him and he was lost momentarily in the shimmering eyes of the olive skinned beauty that spoke to him.
“You want Boy then?” that same passion promising voice that emanated from heaven rolled over his senses like a wondrous symphony.
“Oh,” said the voice wonderingly, “You want me,” and it was a statement of fact, although lust, downright durty, degraded decadent wanton lust was more the actual fact.

“Oh Yesss,” Tim had twittered lost in the brown pools that were tempting him to unheard and unexperienced heights of delight and depravity; then shocked he had gathered himself together and sat up straight intending to apologise and refuse the proffered offer. But, yes but and Oh what a But he had so instead Tim found himself leading his new friend back to his hotel room where he let the wondrous youth fuck him twice, good and hard and Oh So Hard in less than forty-five minutes.

Afterwards, finally after Tim had satisfied himself whilst his new lover Arun had watched; they fell to talking. Arun it turned out was twenty-one and engaged to be married to a family arrangement that had been worked out before he and his fiancée had been born. He however was not allowed to have sex with a girl, it was some sort of religious thing, but for some reason he and his boyfriends could play around with each other and fucking foreigners was also supposed to be acceptable to his god as well. So Tim had become the fucked foreigner for the remainder of his two holiday weeks and deep in lust he had paid through his arse for the privilege of having his arse serviced so often and so hard and so well and so hard and hard and so on. Tim was in lovelust, fucklust overtherainbowdorothylust and never saw the faults, the selfishness, the personal disinterest and never saw the details on the piece of paper he signed at the airport as they clung ferociously to each other. Tim promising fervently, ardently he would send for Arun just as soon as he got back and just as soon as the grey light of England dawned so did the fact that he would not, could not send for his holiday fucklover it was, it was…. Well to be truly honest it was bloody stupid, so Tim had confessed to his envious mates of his sexlusty vacation and then set to, to work off the credit card bill that reminded him there was no fool like a thirty-five year old arse, even if it did tingle sometimes with the memory of some of those holiday fucks. And now Arun was here kissing him.

“What the… Where did you….?” he spluttered, commonsense finally overcoming throbbing lust.
“Plis. Plis we go inside yes?” smiled Arun, “Is cold here in Enkland,” and he shuddered convincingly.
“Oh yes of course yes please do come in.” trembled Tim with hospitality and lets be fair, lusty anticipation and he stood aside to let the youth and his three friends enter the flat.
Hey three friends
“What…. Who….?” Again Tim spluttered.

“Teem, Teeem,” smiled Arun suggestively, “thes are my frens, they cum wif me from Morocco. You invite me to stay you say is OK to bring frend.”
“Yes but A friend,” insisted Tim, “not, Oh hell,” and he followed the quartet up the stairs to his two bed roomed flat, noticing the engaging tight jean covered buns that bummed their way up the stairs. In his mind’s eye he was already working out where to put them so he and Arun could get some - and as he thought this at last Tim smiled for the first time for weeks.

Arun and his friends soon settled themselves in Tim’s living room and Tim once he had grabbed his dressing gown; was kept busy getting them drinks and food, sandwiches and crisps and some bread sticks and dip that he found stuffed in the freezer from a long ago forgotten dinner-party. Tim did not recognise any of the youths that Arun had brought in but then he had to admit, he hadn’t much looked at the few people who had been around Arun when they met outside the hotel. Engrossed with playing the host and wondering how to inveigle them into sleeping arrangements he did not take too much notice of the introductions.
“Here Teem,” smiled Arun getting up, “you sit here,” he said vacating his seat in an armchair.

Tim thankfully sat down and was pleasantly surprised when Arun immediately sat down on his lap, squeezing against his half hard cock.
“Jus’ like bak home,” Arun smiled wriggling his body deeper into Tim’s lap and causing Tim’s erection to grow. Even worse he leaned into Tim and began to kiss him sexily, tonguing Tim’s dry lips.

At first Tim held back and then as the holiday memories flooded back he closed his eyes and let Arun devour his mouth with his stiff boyhard tongue. Tim relaxed and slowly opened his lust filled eyes to stare deeply into Arun's deep brown pools. On his way to blissfully happy he looked around at the other two youths.
‘Two!’ he thought, ‘where was the other one?’ and flustered and concerned he eased Arun up so that he could go and check. Arun laughed and pushed back down scoring his denim hard bum against Tim’s now engorged cock and actually rubbing his body against the tented boxers that were now exposed. Tim gritted his teeth at the unexpected passion that surged through his body and insistently pushed Arun up.

“I just need to,” he spoke flustered, running his hand through his tousled hair and quickly ran to check his bedroom, where he knew his credit cards and wallet and cheque book was laid out on the dresser ready for the next day. As he entered his room he heard the sound of the toilet flushing, but saved his sigh of relief for when he saw that everything was safe. Quickly he locked his valuables away with his other personal papers in the hidden drawer and returned to his ‘guests.’
Back in the lounge Tim found that Arun and his friends had found and opened his drinks cupboard and were already started on the Jack Daniels which he had been keeping for his birthday and the other meagre supply of booze he kept at home. One of them was drinking whisky straight from the bottle and Tim resolved that as long as they just kept to the drink then perhaps everything would be alright, perhaps his flat and its contents would be safe. He returned to the armchair and Arun with glass of Jack Daniels in hand was once again semi impaled on Tim’s re-growing erection. Tim eased some answers out of Arun.