I pressed for the lobby and it headed down, stopping once to let an older couple in. In the lobby was a lot of people and commotion, when I asked what...was happening, I was told by a rather chubby man who worked there, that there was a function on that had just finished. I felt slightly out of my depth quite quickly and decided that I might be better heading back to my room, if anything happened to me on the first night here, my dad would kill me and probably the my room off me. I turned to. Irritatingly, Stewie kept insisting on spitting into my mouth every so often, before skull-fucking me again. The fallout of this was that I ended up with drool all over his chest.The ultimate result of what would become a too regular occurrence was that despite Stewie’s good looks, he would always be my least favourite ‘gratuity.’After our session, Stewie took me to the kitchen and introduced me to the head chef, Denny, and his sous-chef Cornelius. They were not the two most alluring guys I had. He felt more at ease here in the shadows than he did in the melee of the West End. There, flaming torches lit the way, gilding the streets with an orange glow leading towards the gambling dens masquerading as Gentlemen’s Clubs.In that particular area, the pavements were crowded with men of all walks of life, ambling along, now that the good folk of the respectable world were safely in their beds. So, they were able to enjoy the lures of London in the early hours of the morning, eagerly accosted. The stage was equipped with two seats, they were reclining and at standing height, I guess Ron and Henry must have had them made, Joel and I lay on one each our asses visible to the audience. The audience had now discarded their togas and all had their cocks in their hands, we motioned for them to come and forty guys joined us on stage, I looked around me and saw a forest of cocks. A guy moved between my legs and aimed his cock head at my hole, one steady push and he was in, at the same time.