It was a very warm and humid high summerâ€™s day and I was sitting evermore restlessly in the taxi. The air-conditioning was apparently broken and the driver didnâ€™t seem to understand me at all. He was an older man who seemed to be almost obsessed with the driving habits of the cars in front of him to the point of distraction and great histeronics. My palm was clammy and stained by the ink from the piece of paper I had with the address of the hotel. I felt like the paper â€“ scrunched and damp. It was now a staggering 36â€™c and we were finally in down town Warsaw next to the central station. My heart became lighter when I saw the sign for the hotel and excitedly pointed, only to be met with a withering look that told me Iâ€™d outgunned his going the long way round.
Hotel formalities mercifully and quickly over as there was sudden lull in check-in, the lobby was strangely almost bare but pleasingly quiet. A bright and attractive smile was all it took after a few perfunctory questions, and the famous brass key was in my hand. I basked in the luxury of the huge bed and felt the draughts of very agreeable cool air waft across the suite I was to stay in for the next week of business. It was the Bristol â€“ enough said and I was thrilled to bits to be here and really appreciated the comforts I had all around me. It was luxury everywhere and it felt so good from the beautiful drapes and exquisite Egyptian cotton sheets and covers to the pale gray pastel tones that denoted sheer opulence and an abundance of just plain being spoiled rotten!
I returned the calls that we on my phone and then, my eyes gritty and heavy, drifted off into a deep but involuntary sleep. It was 10.05pm when I was awakened by a couple returning to their room next door. The door hissed as it closed and then clicked, locked. I got up had a quick shower and changed, throwing my dayâ€™s clothes into the neat, whitely starched linen laundry bag proudly provided by the hotel. I was polite in the lift on the way down and then after handing in my key found relief in the drop in temperature as my foot touched the pavement outside. No taxi thanks, I nodded to the doorman. I heard there was a good sandwich place at the central station and being habitually lazy on my first day abandoned any plans to visit the old town â€“ that could wait for tomorrow. But my attention was immediately captured by a most welcome sight.
The boy was about 20, steely blueish eyes, Polish or Ukrainian looking about 6â€™1â€™â€™ with cropped dark brown hair and well built (around 110kgs) with a very pronounced, round and firm looking arse. He wore a white ripped t-shirt, a red baseball cap and very tight jeans that led little to the imagination. The end of a cigarette was perched precariously on his full lips as he scanned the lower level of the station and headed outside to the back where it was a bit run down. I couldnâ€™t believe my luck what a specimen â€“ big, white, meaty and viscerally slutty looking man. I must have taken leave of my senses as I wanted to know why he was going there and, hot kylbasa sandwich in hand, I followed. I secreted myself in an archway just in front of the door and saw the boy talk with an older man, early 50s, of very Arab looking extraction. The boy spoke only broken English and after swapping a few chosen phrases the two men headed into the undergrowth and to a deserted building which once was the old menâ€™s toilets. Was it drugs or something more sinister? My heart was beating very fast now, and I felt a kind of fear and joy mixed into one, but somehow it just didnâ€™t make sense for a guy like that to go to a place like that with a boy who looked, putting it in no uncertain terms, like a big hot male prostitute. Maybe there was some business going on.
The building was very dark, rank, musty and strangely damp. Water dripped slowly from long broken and abandoned pipes and litter was strewn everywhere. The near chatter of passengers waiting for their buses home and normal noises of traffic in the city hummed through the broken, dirty, jagged windows and some light from the huge Western neon signs seeped in making my faltering steps a little easier. I heard a random rat scuttle away from my direction as I gingerly dared to put one foot in front of the other. What the hell was I thinking of? What would they say if the saw me? What were they doing.
The moaning made it all so clear I found them only six feet away in a recess â€“ the boy, now stripped below the waist, was fellating the Arab vigorously and enthusiastically with his moist, shiny, huge lizard like tongue. He worked the middle aged manâ€™s shaft effortlessly and held it firmly in his white young hands like a pro. The man moaned in ecstasy and made some comments about the boyâ€™s huge buttocks. The boy nodded and continued doing his sex business, his bobbing head creating ever more pleasure for the man who was now on the brink of cumming. The man put his hand up and the boy stopped, he leaned against the wall and then willingly allowed the man to penetrate him in condom free bliss. The hard dick thrusted into the great big white unblemished beef curtains of the young male whore as the man started to use more and more aggressive language. I crept over to where I could get a better view and saw first and that the boy was actually pressing and trying to take a dump in his big arse as the man was ploughing him, kneading the mighty ass cheeks and spanking them with glee. He was having a very perverted and hot bareback moment with what looked like a delicious gay for pay specimen of youth with a humungous arse.
The boy really worked the cock and soon the firm shit started to plop on the ground making the punter more aggressive and nasty. He stuffed his big dick up the poop-shoot and then I heard a combined sigh and growl as he pulled out having filled the big slutâ€™s male vagina full of cum. There was some rustling in a light, plastic carrier bag, and a profusion of wet wipes transformed the rent boyâ€™s massive buttocks into an almost baby fresh state. The rustle of notes could be heard coming from the man and the boyâ€™s smile beamed in the dark as his white teeth caught the light from the street. His dues paid, the man took one last feel of the mega butt and then kissed the boy roughly before disappearing into the night. The boy indolently clothed his nether regions, lighting up a post-coital cigarette before laying a huge, rasping fart. He laughed and it echoed through the rundown building, no doubt expressing joy at getting a wad of notes from some old fart with a very dirty mind. My foot carelessly stumbled and he heard the noise. He shouted and moved towards me almost menacingly (to be continued).