Free Use Experiment Ch 04

Finishing their breakfast proper, reaching reception Graham kissed both Clara and Georgia goodbye, watching the latter walk away like some sort of love-sick puppy. With only a few minutes to go to the meeting, he spotted Noel and a few other men sitting at the bar, so immediately joined them.

"Hey Noel, how you doing mate?" Graham asked cheerfully, Succumbed to the temptations of the flesh yet?"

Looking as guilty as a small child, despite being built like a brick shithouse, he nodded. "I went swimming this morning," he admitted quietly, "but two naked sirens were already there before. I admit that I went back to my room, and sinned alone."

Clapping him on the back, Graham then nursed his hand. Bloody hell, this guy was solid. "There's nothing wrong with that. And I'm afraid you'll probably have harder tests ahead, so, good luck with that." A thought occurred to him. "I don't suppose you're Catholic are you?"

With a short, sharp laugh, Noel shook his head. "No chance bruv, my Evangelical church hates Catholics."

"That's a shame," he said with a sigh, "because they believe in having your sins forgiven, or something like that," he admitted, R.E. lessons from ten years ago not his best memories, "didn't know if it was worth looking into, you know, the same loving God and all that jazz."

Looking intrigued, Noel nodded. "Yeah, yeah, thanks Bruv, I'll think about it."

As he spoke, it became apparent to Graham, who was looking past him, that one of the men wasn't seated at the bar, but standing, and he wasn't alone.

With one of those seated moving slightly, it became very apparent one of the blokes, a short, thin Asian guy, had a girl kneeling before him, and was only visible by her head bobbing back and forth, although as she had a skinhead haircut it took Graham a moment to confirm it wasn't a guy. Looking back at Noel, who followed where Graham was looking, his eyes immediately reverting to Graham's face.

"Oh hell no," he muttered, "the sin and depravity of this place. I thought I could be strong!" He said almost hysterically, "I thought I could prove that faith was greater than any temptation but..." petering out, he shook his head as if removing impure thoughts.

Feeling sorry for him, Graham knew how he felt. While he'd been happy fucking Clara with the knowledge he had Georgia's expression permission, and she'd even made it clear she accepted and expected him to go out and get his dick wet, he didn't know for certain how she'd react emotionally until it actually happened, same as if he saw anyone shagging her.

"Sometimes Noel," he sighed deeply, "life would be a lot easier without sex."

"Amen Brother!" Noel replied instantly and fervently, both of them then began laughing. "Aww man," he chuckled, "I suppose I could always see if I could get married to one of these girls, do it properly and all that shit. I mean, it is Vegas, I bet it's possible."

"That's the spirit!" With that, the two men chinked glasses and lapsed into a comfortable silence, Graham with a beer, Noel with something that looked like coke but likely was a bit stronger. Graham's eyes couldn't help but return to the skinhead, who appeared quite comfortable sucking on a cock in public, while the guy it was attached to had a glazed expression on his face. Despite the fact she had someone else's cock in her mouth, Graham couldn't help but think how pretty she looked, thin-faced and bodied, but somehow glamorous.

Over the next few minutes, more men turned up, until the only person missing was Rayne. Graham was surprised that none of the new arrivals seemed to bat an eyelid at the continuing blowjob, with Sven sitting quite happily next to the guy, chatting away to one of the others, a short, squat black dude.

It was as if, when the blowjob guy finally blew his load over the girl's face, Damian had been waiting for just that to happen.

"Ah, Roxanne," he announced loudly as he walked into the room, the guy finishing pushing out every last drop of cum, "you're timely as ever. Get Chen a few paper towels and then head directly back to the office please."

Walking behind the bar, Roxanne, cum splattered all over her face, dressed in a tight pair of denim shorts and a cum-stained pink crop top, seemed familiar to Graham somehow, grabbed a few napkins and handed them all to Chen.

Rather than use any of the napkins to wipe her face, she used a single finger to push all the cum on one side of her face into her mouth, then the other, all the while walking towards the exit. As she was almost out, she stopped, the last drop of cum sucked off her finger and turned to face the bar.

"Was nice meeting you Chen," Roxanne spoke in a broad, Irish brogue, "I hope to get to know more of you better," she spoke with a devilish wink, which Graham swore was directed at him, as he finally recognised where he knew her from. Roxanne was the one whom he'd spoken to on the day he'd received the letter telling him he'd been accepted into the study, and was definitely the first woman of the study who'd made him hard just by being incredibly sexual. It didn't matter another man had cum over her, he still lusted after her.

With her gone, the whole room looking after Roxanne, Damian laughed wholeheartedly.

"I feel sorry for any of you who decides to try and hit that," he spoke loudly, "she's a she-devil in disguise." He couldn't help but let out a laugh, "Not heavy disguise, mind." He clapped his hands. "Anyway, now I have you together, I thought I'd introduce you all. I mean, almost all," he spoke with a slight murmur, which Graham assumed meaning Rayne, who still wasn't present, "but I digress." He returned to his more chipper persona. "Let us begin with the introductions, and we may as well start with Chen of China, him of the recent blowjob," which caused a few laughs from the group.

"Noel of Atlanta, Georgia," he pointed at the man, who waved slowly.

"Sven of Sweden," was answered by a more excitable greeting, as he stood up tall and waved furiously.

"Richard of Ireland," a tall, pale man, brown hair, roughly early thirties stood, looking embarrassed.

"Simon of the Philippines," led to a tall, slender man, more feminine than the others, bowing deeply, and was the first to speak;

"I thank you," he spoke gently, politely, "I appreciate being picked for this experiment."

"If you're so happy Simon," Damian spoke gruffly, "why haven't you got your dick wet yet?"

"Because," Simon responded quickly, "your mother's not been here, so it's not been as easy as I'd hoped."

To a man, everyone else burst out laughing, while the white-suited Damian looked almost blankly at Simon, before, as if a switch had been flipped, burst out in a guffaw.

"You are not wrong, y'all would have loved my ma, in the most biblical of ways!"

Simon went red, happy he'd made an impression with 'the lads.'

"Right y'all, let's get back to introductions." He gestured at the squat, black guy Sven had been chatting to, "This is Benjamin of Nigeria." The guy barely moved, only a slight nod of the head registering any recognition.

"We have Zack of South Africa," Damian gestured at a Ginger white dude, who looked as African as Damian looked like Ronald McDonald, instead of his counterpart the colonel.

"This is Graham of England." Standing, Graham smiled politely but declined to say anything.

"And this," Damian ended with a flourish, "is Terry, half African-American, half-Singaporean."

A tall black dude, the only hint he was Singaporean being his jutting jaw, stood, and spoke in an accent audible as Chinese;

"I don't know why I'm here, Dog," he said to Damian, "my cocks never not wet in my neighbourhood, I can have pussy when I want, so I'm hardly gaining anything from this."

This was met with laughs, Terry's head lifting higher from the praise, what Graham considered as pride at his sexual prowess, but he couldn't help but consider he was probably over-compensating for something, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He accepted that, boast or fabrication, Terry was probably just trying to impress everyone, jostling for an alpha male position no one else seemed bothered with.

"So," Damian rubbed his hands, "that's all of you. Now you all know each other's names, you can make nice..."

"It's not all of us," a loud voice rang out from the reception, and there stood Rayne, dressed in a robe and not much else, a girl on each arm, both of whom were wearing micro-string bikinis and looked incredibly uncomfortable to be doing so, despite both ladies being model slim and fairly attractive.

"It's all who deigned to turn up at the time I set," the Texan spoke in an off-hand manner, "so, as before I was rudely interrupted by Rayne of Los Angeles," he returned focus front and centre to the nine other blokes, "I was suggesting you all get to know each other, as I am quite certain many of you will find yourselves in competition with each other. Use this time to talk, and learn each other's strengths, weaknesses and preferences." He smiled at this, planting a hint of uncertainty within all the men's heads. "I have no plans to call all you together again, or at least, those who care to turn up," he spoke with some disdain, aimed at the young man currently untieing both of his lady friend's garments, "for the rest of the week. I wish you the most wonderful time, enjoy everything the hotel has to offer, and perhaps," he said with a twinkle, "some that it doesn't. Now!" With a flourish, he stood from his chair, "I must be off, important business you know. But enjoy the bar, the staff, the guests, well, whatever you want."

With a final wink, he walked off, humming to himself as those who remained either finished their drinks and headed off elsewhere, or started plotting the downfall of their fellow contributors, although the latter group only contained Terry and, to an extent Rayne, so I'd imagine you can figure out the initial group without straining too hard.

For his own part, Rayne was more interested in the two young ladies he had with him, both now completely naked. He'd allowed his robe to open, revealing his cock, a long but thin thing, and had ordered both of his barenaked ladies to play with it. The last one remaining at the bar other than Rayne was Terry, who was watching the ongoing scene with interest.

"What you starin' at old man?" Rayne said, sitting back otherwise relaxed as two pretty girls played with his cock, albeit with a lack of visible interest.

Terry turned round to the bar, having a drink as if there was nothing of importance around him. "Some needle-dicked little fucker forcing two beautiful ladies to do something they don't want to do," finishing his drink, he called for another.

Vibrating with rage, Rayne stood up as tall he could, the two women who'd been absent-mindedly stroking his cock recoiling in surprise, kneeling, bent down to hide their nudity.

"Fuck you talking about you slant-eyed mother fucker?"

The only recognition that Terry had heard what was said was by the briefest of pauses, before continuing to drink his beer as if nothing had happened.

"Come on, you dog-eating prick," Rayne continued in his racist tirade, "why don't you go and have a baby girl so you can drown the fucking thing? Come on you stupid nig..." Before he could finish a word that definitely wasn't Nightingales, Terry had raised his index finger up behind him in one hand, while his other hand held the beer that he was draining.

With a burp, he lowered the glass. "Yeah, I get that you're angry, but you don't get to say that word, white boy. I might be half-Asian, but I'll beat your ass like a whole troop of black guys. And then, when you're broken, the Asian half will whale on you for all those other racist jokes."

"You could try fucker," the five foot five guy radiated anger, his monogrammed rober rather reducing what little impact he might have otherwise had, "you yellow bellied ni..."

The first syllable had barely left his mouth before Rayne found himself picked up by the neck, Terry holding him up by it, leaving his windpipe restricted and his feet dangling a good foot above the floor.

"Listen motherfucker," Terry growled low, ignoring the cries of the two naked girls scrabbling on the floor, the bar staff crouching behind the bar, "in case I didn't make myself clear before, I'm not fucking joking. So, what we're going to do, is I'm going to let you go, you're going to immediately apologise, and then you're going to lick my goddamn boots clean. Am I clear?"

Even if Rayne wanted to answer, it was unlikely that he would be able to, his neck constricted by Terry's grip.

"Okay needle-dick, I'mma let you go." With that, he lowered his captive to the floor where, without even waiting to massage his neck, which was undoubtedly aching, Rayne sprinted out of the bar from a standing start, leaving Terry grinning from ear to ear.

"Crazy little white dude," he chuckled, "I'mma gonna find you." Stretching his back, he gestured at the two girls who'd been lying on the floor. "Hey, you two white girls," he called over to them gently, "you're mine now, so gather up your bikinis, get dressed and come join me at the bar. We're gonna have a drink as I get to know you."

Taking his seat, Terry continued to chuckle to himself before ordering another beer. "Sorry about that," he addressed the two bar staff, both of whom were looking at him warily, "I'm sorry if I made a scene. Double vodka cokes for my girls please."

Responding quickly, the bar staff were grateful to Terry for his involvement, despite his having also been involved in it. Truthfully, it was difficult for them to remain neutral, Rayne having lost any benefit of the doubt that he wasn't an arsehole, so as Terry and the previously naked girls drank first one button, then another of their uniforms became unbuttoned as they flirted with him.

Enjoying the show, Terry continued to sip on his drink. Everything was going exactly to his plan...