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So...I got drunk at a hotel pool.this story is part of the FanClub (bi:group, 1533 words)

Author: hotnwet91
Added: Oct 16 2013Views / Reads: 9992 / 5240 [52%]Story vote: 9.00 (16 votes)
I'm not 100% sure how I ended up in a footballer's hotel room, but I certainly won't forget what happened after.
 

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Pool parties always made me horny. Half naked boys and girls walking everywhere, plenty of booze and something about the summer sun was liberating. I was trying to eat when a particularly perky pair of tits in a blue bikini distracted me from my lunch, they belonged to a chubby young girl with long red hair who had been flirting with the older boys all day. I just rolled my eyes when she sauntered up to a muscly footballer and asked for a sip of his drink, kids these days I thought.

I was on holiday, my phone was somewhere deep in my luggage, and I'd pretty much just packed bikinis and shorts. All these islands looks the same to me,I thought to myself as I looked up and down the beach, just a bunch of drunk Australians making the locals rich. Not that I was in a position to complain, sipping on my fifth Long Island Iced Tea wearing an Australian flag bikini.

The beach was pretty crowded for this time of year, the usual rowdy Australians were teaching some local kids how to play beach cricket down on the hard sand, a German couple took a thousand photos of the sunset as they walked up the beach in long pants and sneakers, the occaisional local selling jewelry and wood carvings moved from group to group, and a football team on an end of season trip sat around the poolside bar telling increasingly loud and lewd stories. I could tell they were footballers because not one of them was under six foot, with rippling shoulders, and deliciously wide arms.

I don't really remember too much of the night after that, I know I sucked at karaoke, and lost a game of battleshots. But it's still a little foggy how I woke up in the warm arms of a footballer.

As I surveyed the scene I recognised my bikini top hanging from a lampshade, the minibar was still open, and suspiciously empty. I recognised the tattooed arm wrapped around me from the pool yesterday, one of the footballers, but I couldn't remember which one. His enormous biceps wrested heavily on my side and his wide hand cupping one of my boobs. I could feel his warm semi-erection against my arse and wondered what we'd done last night.

With my free hand I gently stroked his thick cock, it twitched and his breathing changed as my hand softly moved up and down the growing

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