Hostel Fuckers: Part One

Hostel Fuckers: Part One

Hostel Fuckers

Part One
A light rain falls at a slant upon southern Glasgow, Scotland, in this early morning hour. On the edge of the south side is an old Hostel for those who’ll be staying for longer periods of time. As the rain begins to lighten, a cab slowly pulls in. The spidery branches of leafless trees creak with the cool moist breeze. Robert McLeod—an 18 year old high school graduate—climbs from the car and sluggishly makes his way inside.
Sloppily, he slicks back his black shoulder length hair. The rectangular lenses of his black wire framed glasses are speckled with rain water and the black cloth hood of his black leather jacket is sopping wet. The bottoms of his baggy black pants soaking wet from the cold puddles out in front of the two story hostel; swiftly he heads to the front counter where he makes sure to grab the key to his room—room #7.
With a chuckle, he heads to his room.
“Well, well, lucky number seven, eh?” he laughs.
My name is Robert McLeod—I’ve come to Glasgow so I can go to college. Originally I’m from U.S. but my being of Scottish decent drove me to come to Glasgow. I’ve always wanted to live here before I had even seen its beauty in person. When I came here a couple years ago, I decided I’d move from the U.S. to live in Scotland. I don’t really think I’m doing it as an act of homage to my ancestors but simply out of admiration for such a gorgeous land.
Another reason I came here was to stay in a mixed hostel where I could maybe find some interesting people, more or less a female. I have never been so good with women and still I’m a virgin. Girls never really liked me I guess because I am so thin and pale. I didn’t grow any facial hair for quite a while—many of the other males in my classes already had 5 o’clock shadows. Thus I wasn’t attractive to those girls who were looking for an older guy or those who wanted a very masculine boy friend.
I think me being an American could both hurt me and help me. I imagine the scene in Sid and Nancy where Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten are in the living room and interrupted by Nancy, “You fucking Americans, none of your free hippy love shit here!” of course we are no longer in the 70’s but hey, I’ve never lived with a foreigner so how would I know what their reaction would be?
They could also be interested in me because I am from a different country. France isn’t so far off—maybe I’d be sharing a room with some horny French chicks—that’d be nice if the roomers of horrible yellowed teeth and hairy armpits aren’t true?
Well whatever, but after all, Sid and Nancy is about the most unrealistic movie to be supposedly based on a true story. Sure “Sid Vicious” was in “the Sex Pistols” but, besides that, a very scant portion of the story is true. Like when the band went on that talk show and started cursing, saying stuff they weren’t allowed to say on TV; they depict Sid as a band member, he wasn’t even the bass player then, how can you get something so matter of fact so incorrect?! Plus the makers didn’t even get their info from a member of the Sex Pistols; they got it from fuckin’ Joe Strummer from “the Clash,” what the fuck would he know about the Sex Pistols? Obviously not enough to have made an accurate story about them, nonetheless, it is a good movie, majority true or false.

Once Rob gets to his room, he finds the door is locked. Staring down at the door knob, he sees someone has hung a “do not disturb” sign from the knob.
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘do not disturb?’ It’s a hostel how the hell do you have a do not disturb sign? Well, whoever is in here is out of luck, I paid good goddamn money and I’m comin’ in!” he bellows knowing that he’s going to have a problem with his roommates.
Slipping the key into the slot, he opens the door, dropping his backpack at the door he stares up to have a book thrown in his face. Stumbling back as the book meets his face he falls to the ground. Struggling to his feet he seems a bit disoriented.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
“What do you mean ‘what the fuck are you doing,’ the sign says do not disturb you pervert!”
“What do you mean pervert, it’s a hostel you can’t…” he starts when he realizes why the sign was there.
Two pale females lie in a “69” position, licking and chomping on their wet pussies. His mouth waters as he stares at the pierced labia of one of the girls. He’s surprised to see them not exactly trying to cover themselves. He can hear them lapping up the pungent juices which seem to flow so heavily. Watching their tongues flicker, he can’t help but watch, what straight guy wouldn’t watch?
“Um, sorry I didn’t realize.” He sighs starting toward the door. He can’t believe he got to see something so magnificent, what a gorgeous sight; it would be much more pleasant if he could join in.
“Wait…don’t leave.” A softer voice calls to him.
“D-do, you want me to join?”
“No, we want you to leave, of course you idiot, why would we say, don’t leave if we wanted you to leave?”
“I guess I jump to conclusions a bit too quickly.”
“I’m Astrid; the soft spoken one is Rowan.”
“I’m Rob McLeod, you have pretty unique names, I have a pretty boring name compared to yours.”
“A dropped a right?” asks Astrid rising to her feet.
He finds it impossible to talk as he stares over her pale flesh. She’s amazing, what a unique beauty! Rowan’s cloudy juices flow down from Astrid’s chin. She has such milky white skin. Her breasts are a good proportionate size, a large b or c-cup. Her nipples are hardened and her stomach is amazingly flat. Her curvy physique is much the epitome of femininity. Most amazing of all is her pale blue eyes—icicle blue—just the faintest color in them. She wears shimmering lipstick which matches her eyes. Her black hair flows past her bum, straight and pulled into a high pony tail, her bangs hanging at the sides of her face. She’s as tall as he is but her long legs only make her appear that much taller.
“D-dropped a, y-yeah, in the name right, so you, um, realize what that means correct?”
“Umm, you’re an American, I could tell due to your accent. McLeod is spelled with an ac here, but a lot times they drop it when you head to the states. So we even have a Scotsman to share a room with, what are you student?”
“Uh-huh,” he asks staring down at her tits which are smashed against his chest.
He can hear her unbuckling his pants which only excites him. He can feel the tip of his cock pressing between her warm rosy lips, each one pierced once. As she pulls off his pants, and shirt, leaving him bare, he notices another pressing the hardened flesh of her pale nipples against his back. Her flesh is so smooth, her body almost identical to Astrid’s. She gently strokes his hardened cock, using her thickening spit as lubrication. As Astrid embraces him, their lips suddenly meet. Her hands move up to his face running up the stubble on the sides of his face as his eyes widen in surprise. Their tongues struggle together, wrestling and twirling in a very intimate kiss.
Before long and Rob knows he’s fixing to cum. Just as he’s about to blow, Rowan’s hand suddenly leaves his shaft along with Astrid’s lips. He’s puzzled as to why everything has just so abruptly stopped. He can’t understand why she could’ve stopped.
“Why the hell have you stopped?”
“We haven’t,”
Lowering onto their knees they wait for him to fill their mouths. Continuing on from where they left off, Rob swiftly pumps his cock, nutting in Astrid’s open mouth. The thick white goo leaks into her mouth, covering her wet tongue in salty jizz. Rowan swiftly wraps her lips around his cock, eating out the excess before she’s pulled aside by Astrid. Letting the, cum ooze from her mouth, it runs down her chest. Grasping Astrid’s sides, Rowan licks up and down her tits, slurping like a vacuum as she eats off every last bit. She giggles as she swallows it down, enjoying the unusual sensation of the, cum running down her throat.
“I can almost feel it dripping into my stomach!” she giggles.
“Not bad but, you seem so nervous. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
“C’mon, I’m 18 could I really still be virgin?” asks Rob with a chuckle pulling up his pants.
“Eh, I don’t know, I’d rather let everyone know. Better to let people know you’re just inexperienced instead of a lousy lay.” Says Astrid seeming quite serious, and now she’s got him worried, should he tell her or not?
“…Alright so I am, I suck at talking to women so I focused on my goddamned education, alright?!” Rob shouts in frustration.
“You’re that bad at talking to women? Huh, it’s unusual to see a guy who’s still a virgin even after high school.”
“Why didn’t you just buy a whore…or something?” Rowan asks lying down in his bunk.
“I dunno, I guess that just seems pretty lame.”
“But, you didn’t seem so shy when talking to us.” Rowan says in that unforgettable soft voice of hers.
“I guess I was a little in shock. I’m going to get a cup of tea; I’ll see you guys in a little while.”
Swiftly changing, slipping on a black beanie and black t-shirt before heading out the door. As he walks outside, he listens to his jeans rubbing together. For some reason he doesn’t feel so content, probably because he couldn’t convince them of his made up sexual experience. It made him oddly mopey, he figured he be pretty happy but now realizes that he may have turned Astrid and Rowan off with his little fib.
After a little while, he ends up at a book store and instantly finds the book he wants—the biography of Anthony Burgess—the creator of the novel, A Clock Work Orange. He’s seen the movie more times than he could ever count, made by the great Stanley Kubrick and read the book probably five times. He hopes he might do something which could be so admirable but doesn’t count on it. He just wants to make some good money with a successful career of some kind.
He was fortunate enough to have come upon a book store which also has a sort of caf?nside, like a Starbucks or something like that. Munching on a biscotti cookie and sipping on sugary tea, he flips through the crisp pages of the new hard back book when he suddenly feels the hot breath of another on the nape of his neck. The dull points of two canines gnaw gently on the cartilage of his ear.
“I didn’t know you were coming here?!” Rowan whispers into his ear.
“N-neither did I…are you on break?” asks Rob.
“No, but I’m able to just wander off every now and then, do you want to talk, they’ll never know, I’m just going to stock books, not a big deal?”
Sitting across from him they swiftly begin conversing on about this and that. Suddenly, Rob realizes that that his other mistress is nowhere in sight. Instantly he wonders where she works, he figures she must have a more interesting job for some unusual reason. He can imagine what she might look like at work, like one of those sexy office workers answering, “attorney’s office,” in an amazingly illustrious voices.
“So where does, Astrid work?”
“Oh, she serves take away for minimum wage.”
”You mean she works at a fast food place?”
“No, I’m just pullin’ your leg. She’s a receptionist for this physician or doctor, what ever you wanna call him down the street. She likes to act really conservative at work with her dress shirts and skirts, she even wears glasses for her supposed reading.”
“You…don’t think she needs glasses then?”
“Nu-uh, she just thinks they make her look intelligent. The…place is empty most of the time. Why don’t…you go visit her?” asks Rowan.
“I guess after finishing my coffee I could do that.”
He does indeed head to her place of work, finding it to be very homey from outside—almost like a massive cottage. It’s accompanied by a couple trees and the building appears to be made of wood, painted pale yellow, with a roof coated in a thin layer of light brown shingles. The front windows are covered over with white almost lacy curtains.
An old beat up bell rattles as he makes his way inside. There’s no one inside and he’s surprised to see there’s no fish tank. The thin layer of carpet is an unusual pattern of green and wheat. The walls are an off white shade and a few random framed paintings are scattered about the walls. Heading toward the front window, the blurry glass window slides open to reveal the working Astrid.
Her hair is up in what appears to be a French twist and her bangs hang at the sides of her face. She wears a thin coat of bright pink eye shadow and glossy red lipstick. Thin wire frames hold reflecting oval shaped lenses. A snug fitting white dress shirt covers her upper body, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Black nylons hid her pale legs, a short gray dress shirt hiding under the table in which she sits. Flashing a devilish smile, she swiftly leaves her computer chair.
“McLeod,” she calls.
He hastily passes through the door to have her grab his hand. Dragging him into her office, he looks around to see row after row of metal file cabinets. There are sticky note pads scattered about the front desk where she sits most of the day. The flimsy metal shades are closed and so is the front window.
Pulling over her chair, away from the front desk, the slips off her wet panties, stuffing them in Rob’s mouth letting him watch as she plays with her pussy.
“It’s so wet, oh, how you excite me Robby. Clean those skimpy drawers off then dive into this pussy!” she demands.
He quickly spits her black g-string from his mouth and drops to his knees. Coming within only an inch of her cunt, he rests his hands on her thighs, softly spreading her legs. Drooling onto her sopping pussy, he slips his fingers into the tight hole. Slowly moving his two fingers in and out of her pussy hole, licking on her clit she begins to moan softly. As his beanie falls to the ground, she pulls on his hair as he looks up at her.
“The scent is so strong; it tastes almost bitter sweet, Astrid.”
“Stick your dick my ass, focus more on my clit with your fingers!” she commands switching places with him.
Sitting with his pants at his ankles, she slips on his cock a pink rubber. She slowly lowers her self onto his lap. His muscles tighten as his woolen, blood engorged cock head, pokes into her ass hole. Holding her sides, he thrusts his way deeper into her warm insides. He can she her expression on one of the newer file cabinets, joy and pleasure explode within him as he sees these same emotions surging through her body. A smack rings out as her ass cheeks redden. Covering her mouth he can feel her body quivering, her muffled moans the irrefutable sound of orgasm. She jumps as he touches her clit. She’d never felt something so intense, she literally couldn’t touch her clit due to how sensitive it had become.
“S-stop touching it,” she cries out.
“What do you mean you’re sorry? I thought you were more than efficient?!”
“I don’t know I just thought, maybe you didn’t like it, it’s so engorged!”
“A sort of waste of good cum, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I would have liked to cum inside, there’s something oddly appealing about it. I want cum in your twat; it’s so warm and wet!”
“I want your virginity to be a group experience. Well, I gotta get to work so you should be going.”

With a sigh he leaves as he’s asked of and heads back to the hostel. He starts school next week but is looking more so forward to fucking his roommates than getting to work. It seems he’s rather unfortunate fortunate at the same time. He can’t wait for them to get off work.
It seems he’s finally come to the end of this first part of his Scottish journey, though what’ll happen in the second part of his story?


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