In this digital, AVI, download and streaming world of ours, we tend to forget that civilization was built on the printed word and shaped by great books such as The Bible, Romeo & Juliet, The Oxford English Dictionary – and The Restaurant At The End of The Universe.
Before we saturated ourselves with the mass produced printed photograph, and now the multi platform internet delivery system – peasants and poor people used to read erotic books and stories like Mills and Boon, Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Razzle.
So in tribute to our ancestors – here is the first of many stories written in good old pen and ink – which will, as you will experience, be a higher level of auto erotica as your mind fills in the blanks and gets carried away into the realms of the sexual sewers in the mind….but in case you’re not the imaginative type – I’ve shoved some grubby pictures on to help fill in the gaps!
Maxwell B.
DIRTY DARREN
By Maxwell B.
Right, thought Darren. It’s my turn to enjoy myself now. It was
a Bank Holliday Weekend and all his mates, even his boyfriend,
had been out partying in order to make the most of that extra
day off. You wouldn’t think it to look at him in his smart suit
and tidy shoes – perhaps his zero crop may be some give away -
but Darren was a filthy minded slut of the highest order who
liked his sex dirty! He’d spent all weekend, including Monday,
at his office in the city taking care of irritating IT problems and
welcomed the sight of the clock ticking it s way to five pm.
Although the weekend was almost over, it wasn’t for him; it was
just the beginning. He knew of a notorious little pub just across
the river near the south bank; it had its window blacked out and
a men only sign stamped on the door; Darren knew it would be
busy, even at this hour of the day. Outside the front door was a
bus stop, attended by a gentleman with an ironing board and a
middle-aged woman with her weekly shopping. Little did these
faceless member of the public know what went on just a few
feet behind them inside the brick walls and shuttered windows.
Darren passed them and popped an E into his mouth he’d saved
in his wallet in the manner that he was just popping in some chewing
gum. He swallowed hard, winced and slipped in to the pub entrance.
He was instantly enveloped with darkness and had to let his eyes adjust.
He finally managed to find the inner door where he paid a rough looking
Clone with a face full of fights the five pounds entrance fee. Through the
next room was a small, dingy changing area with some surprisingly
modern lockers; into which Darren put in his clothes – all of them.
Before he entered the last and final door to the inner bar, the thump
of hard techno and the stench of sex, he checked himself up and
down: boots and a thick steel cock ring; it was all he needed and
his cock was already beginning to twitch at the thought of what
lay ahead.
Entering the bar he was relieved to find the dark, hot interior full
of men; hardly recognisable in the shadows and strobe lights,
but flesh and fluid was all Darren was interested in. He pushed his
way through the surreal concentration camp of bodies; skin, hair,
hands and the odd cold chill of piercings sliding against him; eyes
glancing, heads turning to take in the new arrival.
Darren stood at the bar to order a drink and soaked up the sights,
most of it in a blur of nightmarish half-light. Most of the men
were naked, showing off bodies of all shapes, ages and sizes. Further
in the gloom against the wall, shapes were entwined, people were
kneeling, heads were bobbing back and forth, and the hot air – so sweet,
Darren thought to himself as he drew in the breath of other men; mixed
with the odour of sweat, spunk and sleaze.
The barman was short, chunky, and wickedly cute. Darren ordered a
pint of larger which was duly poured as they seriously checked each
other out. Shame, he’s working, thought Darren and made a mental
note to come and chat him up later.
He gulped down his pint like a yob under the gaze of two
shapes beside him. A hand found its way onto the meat of
Darren’s testicles and began to expertly massage them like two
Chinese meditation balls; another hand began exploring the
groove his arse crack, and further down to find a moist, rather
musty arse hole.
Darren felt the weight of his empty pint glass begin to increase.
He looked down to see one of the shapes beside him pissing into his glass.
The glass filled up and he could feel the warmth through the glass on his
fingers. By now more figures had huddled closer to cautiously join in the
activities. Hands were going from nipple to nipple, cocks, flesh and arses
were being fingered and caressed.
Darren felt the hot sensation of lips and stubble on his neck, then a
hot trickle of spit ran down his neck to expertly collect around his
nipples; hard fingernails clamped on them and added to the whole
dizzy feeling of sexual perversion. A wet, warm feeling engulfed the
end of his cock and a sloppy, hot blowjob was underway. For some
reason Darren had become the centre of attention over at the bar;
the feeling made him plunge deeper into arousal. The lips and stubble
continued to devour one side of his neck; then the pissing guy joined
in but from the other side.
Wanting to hot things up, Darren took the pint glass up to his lips
and took a gulp of the warm, tasteless liquid. He swallowed half then
turned to meet a hungry mouth with accepted the rest from his mouth,
some of it trickling down their chins, neck and chest where the yellow
trail was met by more mouths.
Outside at the bus stop, the woman with the shopping looked at her
watch; she d been waiting nearly twenty minutes.
Inside, the orgy at the bar had increased in ferocity into an ever
changing, human sculpture of men at their most debauched but
pleasured state. Darren was by now leaning back against the bar
with his body exposed to what ever wanted to take advantage of it.
There were several fingers rummaging around inside the filth of his
arse and from more than one person; three or four mouths were
fighting for ground around his spit saturated cock and several times
he had been passed warm hot fluid form a variety of mouths; not all
of it was spit; that, bitter but sometimes sweet taste was instantly
recognisable.
Darren finally ejaculated in several jets of varying trajectory: none of it
got a chance to reach the floor; it was either instantly gobbled up off of
skin or used as lube to moisten tits and ring pieces.
Feeling hungry for yet more filth, Darren pulled away from the moaning,
obsessed strangers and moved off into the dark room.
The woman outside cursed under her breath as her bus went
past; it was too full to bother stopping.
The darkroom was pretty much wall to wall with men having
sex with men. Fisting, fucking, sucking, fingering. Darren took
some time to soak up the sights as he slipped three fingers up a hairy
arse that happened to be close by; and wanked a short but very fat
cock off with the other. His breath quickened when he saw the cutest
guy he’d ever seen, bent against the damp brick wall with a huddle of
men taking turns to fuck his smooth white arse, bareback, in succession.
An angel in what looked like hell, but an angel with broken wings as
he repeatedly gasped in ecstasy as his arse changed hands yet again.
Darren discarded the arse and fat cock in favour of wanking himself off
as he watched the young lad take it up the arse repeatedly; this time
around though, his buggerers each took it in turn to cum up his sore,
slack hole, accompanied by deep moans of total pleasure.
Dirty Darren didn’t waste any time. As the cute guy regained his breath,
Darren moved forward, dropped to his knees on the slippery floor and
placed his hands on the cheeks of the lads arse. Smooth and hairless,
Darren parted the cheeks to reveal a pink, panting hole, slowly oozing
the sperm of many men. He parted the cheeks harder and the hole
increased in size, as did the flow. Darren felt a nauseating rush from
his E and he clamped his mouth over the cute guys seeping hole
and guzzled out the spunk like a ravished grizzly bear around a
honey pot. The sensation was ecstatic for both of them, the taste of
sperm, sweat with a hint of arse was one Darren would never forget.
The woman was still at the bus stop when Darren left half an
hour later, although she looked much less placid than she did
before. As he passed her in his suit, he wondered if she had any
idea what had just been going on behind her in that little,
faceless pub. Little did Darren know that in the woman s
shopping bag was a collection of the biggest dildo s she could
find in Anne Summers. She was eager to get home, to where, as
arranged, she would find her husband dressed up in her clothes,
waiting on the bed, and ready for a filthy two hour dildo and
poppers session.









