Sharing a hotel room with friends – Four people fucking at once [Group]

Aged nineteen I went on a – to not mince words about it – drunken fuck-fest of a holiday to Ayia Napa with some university friends. I’ve posted about this previously but it falls so perfectly into this months theme that I thought it might be worth digging up and expanding upon. Further details have been added for those who feel it’s familiar!

This particular encounter took place on the third night out the holiday and by the third day we’d all just about acclimatised to the new day/night cycle. A few of us were managing to wake early enough in the mid-afternoon to actually see the sun, but the near constant hangover-haze prevented us from doing anything more exciting than sitting, hoping to find ourselves catching a lovely bronze glow, rather than the pasty-to-near-pale-blue of our natural skin tone. (Well, mine. One of my friends looked near permanently radiant, insufferable bitch that she is.)

We’d agreed to have a somewhat quieter third evening. There’d still be plenty of drinking, dancing and potential for some debauchery, but it was to be much more low-key than our previous night, in that we weren’t going to spend hours killing karaoke, nor were we intending to find ourselves in a decidedly seedy bar failing to win any dubious ‘competitions’.

And, much to our surprise, this proved to be the case. We found a decent bar, drank to glorious excess, danced like only those who’s inhibitions have been weakened by alcohol – but who’s rhythm has been equally quashed too – can, and generally succeeded in doing relatively little to disgrace ourselves.

During this time, as is the seemingly the rule in Ayia Napa; ‘no female without a male literally attached or inside her at any given moment will be approached by as many guys as are in eye line’, we all found ourselves getting some attention. Now I really must stress here that this is no way suggesting we were a group who’s extraordinary looks and dance skills can draw a mere mortal from a mile away. Far from it. It’s simple that the tone in Ayia Napa at the time – I’m sure it’s moved on since – was that it’s perfectly acceptable to approach a total stranger with no more subtle an introduction than ‘Hi, fancy a fuck?’, and if it is declined or ignored, you’re free to literally ask the person standing beside the initial target the same question without any of the involved parties feeling aggrieved.

Eventually it reached the point in the evening where we’d all slightly drifted away from group drinking, and had now found one – or various – other people we were chatting to, drinking with, grinding awkwardly up against, or with tongues doing their best to cohabit in the other person’s mouth. As such, we did our usual ‘be good, stay safe’ goodnight routine to each other, and went our separate ways to indulge in our personally selected vices of more booze, creating a spectacle on a dance floor, or finding in the nearest and most convenient spot to indulge in drunken carnal instincts with the guy we’d known for fewer than twenty minutes.

As it transpired, none of these were on my immediate agenda. By the standards of this holiday I was still relatively cognisant, and having an interesting and insightful conversation about stand up comedy with a guy of whom my overriding memory was his truly excellent beard. Despite the mundane nature of our chat I found myself touching and stroking his face throughout, which quickly led to him touching and stroking me back.

This went on for some time, but before he was able to get too handsy I suggested we head back to our apartment hotel to continue things further, given I’d made enough of a public spectacle of myself over the last few evenings. Mercifully, he didn’t question this.

To briefly explain the apartment hotel layout; It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a small series of rooms. Two bedrooms, one bathroom and a ‘living space’. One bedroom held two single beds, one had a double bed in which two friends were having to share, and the final pour soul was set up on the uncomfortable sofa bed in the living space. We’d agreed we’d all rotate beds over the course of the holiday so everyone faced equal discomfort.

This particular evening I was occupying one of the single beds which, given the options, seemed like by far the best pick of the bunch.

We’d both been pretty handsy the entire way back, so by the time we’d reached the apartment we were eager to get going. So much so that as we entered we barely reacted to the fact that one of my friends had already arrived before us. She was currently on all fours on the sofa bed, with a guy I vaguely recognised as having been dancing with her earlier positioned behind her (and, I can only assume, *inside* her) looking like he was enjoying himself enormously. She had a large smile on her face too.

But, we payed this no heed. Instead myself and my guy (who I’ll now refer to as Stephen to save confusion, though by this point in the evening I can’t actually be sure if I’d learned or remembered his name) headed to the bedroom, jumped on the single bed and started undressing.

Here I must confess that, in hindsight, I find a gap in my logic. We’d been all over each other for a while and were both eager and ready to go. But instead we found ourselves not leaping into the action, but taking our time. Whether it was at my insistence (having had two days of what could be, at best, described as ‘quickies’), or his I can’t remember. But rather than hungrily devouring each other, there was a lot of kissing, a lot of exploratory tongues and a great deal of working each other up into a frenzy. He could wiggle the very tip of his tongue with remarkable rapidity as something of a party trick, and it was a skill I clearly intended to make good use of. I held his head between my thighs for far longer than was sensible. And all this with a background noise of my friend in the next room trying to not be so energetic as to break the sofa bed. Though apparently this didn’t last long.

The specifics of our actives are muddied in the drunken haze, so I won’t pretend to be able to offer a blow-by-blow account (Pun intended), but given his skills I’m certain of the fact that hes still had his head between my legs when the bedroom door bursts open and in flies Rachel; the friend I was sharing the room with (Note: this is NOT the same friend who was on the sofa bed), who is mid removing the shorts of a giant of a man.

I wish now that I’d had the wherewithal to summon a better line than the one I delivered. In my defence I was drunk and had a tongue inside me at the time. I’m still pleased with my deadpan delivery though.

“Having a good night?”

The response I receive is curt at best, as it seems neither of the newly arrived duo are interested in being put off their stride.

“Shut the fuck up Alice and don’t be weird.” Is roughly the only response I received. Though I am paraphrasing. The actual line was probably more vulgar.

They then proceed to strip, and begin making their own entertainment on the other single bed, mere meters away from myself, and the now somewhat distracted Stephen.

Now I’ve seen Rachel naked on many an occasion and, thankfully, I’m not intimidated by her excellent body. While it’s true she has an arse that is, I’d argue, worthy of some award, while my own is practically none existent, I’ve a lot more going on up top and, frankly, my hair has always been better. Stephen stole a few glances over at her, but I could see was making a very deliberate and conscious effort to keep his eyes focused on me. Naturally I also took an eyeful of Rachel’s 6’5 giant of a partner who, while it wouldn’t *quite* be accurate to describe him as being all in perfect proportion, was certainly a guy who had nothing to be ashamed about.

What followed can be interpreted as either magnificently sexy and erotic, or horrendously awkward and unbearable, depending on your perspective.

We had two close friends who know each other well and who are, by this stage, largely immune to shock or embarrassment from each other, fucking two relative strangers who *are* total strangers to each other, all barely a misplaced flailing arm’s length away from each other.

Stephen clearly felt the pressure. He’d gone from sensual and highly motivated to a look of startled bunny-in-the-headlights. Rachel’s guy seemed largely unphased, but he was being distracted by Rachel’s mouth so had more pressing matters on his mind.

Now, as anyone who has read any of my posts will know, I’m a fiercely competitive person. This was clearly not a competition. No one had made even the vaguest of suggestion that it was. Rachel and Giant man were having their own lovely time, and until moments ago myself and Stephen had been doing much the same thing.

And yet…

Maybe it was Stephen’s slight hesitancy (which I’m sure my memory has over exaggerated.), or maybe it was eagerness in which Rachel was currently devouring her Giant, but somehow, it felt like we were losing.

And I couldn’t allow that.

Quick as a flash I extricate Stephen from between my legs and get my mouth around him instead, paying close attention to my positioning to ensure I didn’t appear to be simply copying what Rachel was doing. Not that anyone was looking our way.

Deciding the slow and subtle approach was a thing of the past, I hold nothing back and immediately go to town. I take him fully in my mouth and try my hardest to generate some gagging sounds to proudly display my skill to the zero audience. My limited eye-line prevented me from seeing if there was any response from either party, but there was no indication that they were paying the least bit of attention.

Not wanting to be one move behind the whole time, I keep the sucking brief and, in no uncertain terms, told Stephen to fuck me.

What followed was a moment of exquisite awkwardness as he fumbled around looking for the wallet in his discarded shorts in the rapid and desperate search of a condom, while I sat back waiting impatiently trying not to reach the conclusion that this has allowed the other pair to retake the lead.

After a few moments Giant guy helpfully tells us he’s got some spares if we need them. I can’t help but laugh, which probably didn’t help the situation. Stephen thanks him for the offer, but has now found his own, and is desperately trying to apply it before the escalating scenario completely obliterates his erection.

Especially given that the situation is now infinitely more awkward. We’ve all spoken and acknowledged each other’s presence. Although it’s an arbitrary thing, it feels like we can now no longer just be in our own unique bubble pretending the other’s aren’t there.

On the bright side this did seem to galvanise Stephen, who now seemed more determined to take control of the situation. Clearly inspired by the sofa bed antics of earlier, he indicated I should get on all fours, and made to position behind me.

The sensible thing here would have been to position myself facing towards the head of the bed and the wall. Why I didn’t do this, I can’t honestly be certain. Instead I position myself facing down the bed. Meaning that we still had a view of the the antics of the other pair. And, perhaps more significantly, they had a view of us.

Full disclosure; this didn’t bother me in the least. I had a great time and can only speculate that the scrutiny did wonders for Stephen’s stamina, as he just kept going. I also can’t deny the satisfaction felt when the Giant’s gaze would drift in our direction, despite the evidently excellent work of Rachel.

I came first. Stephen’s excellent earlier tongue skills had already brought me close, and his rhythm and pace of thrust during the doggy was well judged. Plus I helped myself along a little – it wasn’t strictly needed, he was more than capable of getting me there – but I wanted to cum first. In my head that was another win. I confess to perhaps making slightly more of my orgasm for effect too. I was certainly louder than I might otherwise have been.

The result of me making something of a show of my orgasm was that it proved sufficient to push Giant over the edge. He declared he was going to cum and Rachel, who wasn’t quite at that point yet, bounced on him all the harder to try not to be left disappointed.

He made a very unusual guttural grunting sound as he came. I had to bite my lip so as not to laugh. Second victory to us though. Stephen had outlasted him. He didn’t pass any comment, but I could tell from a glance that Stephen was quietly proud of himself.

But giant had stamina. Despite having only just cum he seemed more than happy to stay inside Rachel and now, rather than having her bouncing on him, she was almost squatting above him while he did the work. And judging from Rachel’s hard fought gasps and breathless panting; it was very much working.

I slid off Stephen and, conscious that we’d only achieve real victory if he came too – not to mention my own *personal* pride at stake – I asked him how he’d like to finish. But he was barely paying attention. He was mesmerised by what Giant was doing to Rachel. Not at all surprising as the sound alone of Giant’s thighs slapping into Rachel’s undeniably distracting arse was thoroughly hypnotic.

He clearly wanted to copy them. But all I could imagine was Rachel and giant tutting to themselves and chortling at our inability to do something original. So I’m afraid I deployed a cheap trick. I told him to cum on my face.

I whipped off his condom and lay with my head between his legs. I wrapped my lips around his cock, placed his hands on the back of my head, hoping he’d get the implication. He could do exactly what Giant and Rachel were doing, except he could do it to my face.

He understood. And, with a confidence that surprised me, he fucked my face.

I genuinely don’t know whether Rachel or Stephen came first, because it seemed to happen almost simultaneously. Rachel threw her head back and began shouting the place down, while Stephen pulled my head back and unloaded on my face.

In all, everyone had a lovely time. I can’t be certain who, in my mind, ultimately ‘won’, but I’d like to believe it was Stephen and I. Which is to say; me. Even if in these circumstances ‘coming first’ isn’t necessarily a sign of victory.

After it all concluded, Stephen decided to head back to his own apartment to help reduce the overcrowding. Giant decided to stay. But that is, quite literally, another tale for another time…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/k9sxio/sharing_a_hotel_room_with_friends_four_people