We arrived in Lisbon early next morning. We had rehearsals first thing, then were allowed ashore, as long as we were back in time for dinner and the show. We took a taxi to the world famous gay nudist Beach 19. Stripping off, we wandered through the dunes and skipped through the waves like kids, then found a spot back in the dunes.
Two identical, white twinks, holding hands. By early afternoon, it was getting busier, with plenty of naked men, from eye-candy to 80s. Most were olive-skinned Mediterranean, so we attracted attention. Two local guys in their 30s sat close by. After a few minutes, they moved closer. One of them smiled and rubbed his dick. We joined them and sat either side of them. They spoke good English and the conversation flowed, becoming sexual, which led to kissing. As the temperatures and penises rose, they said it was illegal to have sex on the beach, but they had a chalet close by....
We picked up our clothes and made our way, chatting and holding hands, back from the beach. They were also gay brothers, who had incestual sex when there was no one else to fuck. We came to a row of white-painted bungalows, and were ushered inside one. It was very sparsely furnished, with a sofa, a couple of armchairs, and a bed. We were immediately in a four-way tangle.
They proved to be very sensual. We paired off. John was led to the bed, and we had the sofa. We spent a long time kissing one another all over. He was an excellent cock sucker, taking me to the brink time and again. On the bed, John had his face in the guy's ass, rimming. I knelt on the sofa, waiting for cock. He didn't disappoint, pushing through my ring and burying himself to the hilt. John had also started fucking. I was turned over and had my ankles on the man's shoulders. John went for it big time.
My fella kissed, then slid back in. I wanked as the plowing went harder. John had bred his man and was now sucking him off. I told my guy not to cum inside, (I didn't know his status) so he pulled out and shot over my face. I gave him a face full as well. After dressing, we had a beer with them and got a taxi back to the ship.
The performance went like a dream. We seemed to have more energy and bigger smiles.
In the shows, we had three- 20 minute slots, plus the finale. It was all held together by the MC, who told risque jokes and took the Mick out of the audience. We also had a karaoke spot before the disco got going.
One lad, Curtis, was always up first. Not the best voice in the world, but very funny and camp AF. In his early 30s, he was always smartly dressed and constantly smiling. He seemed to be travelling alone, At the end of each slot, he blew kisses. As the cruise went on, he became more salacious, imitating oral sex or masturbation.
One evening, he got onstage to do his Boyzone impression and slipped me a note, cabin 211, 11.00. I showed it to John, who was a little concerned that it could cost us our jobs. Horniness got the better of us. At the end of the show, we showered and removed our make-up, then changed into shorts and polos, hoping to mingle with the passengers.
At 11.00, we tapped lightly on his door and it swung open. Checking the corridor, it was clear, so we slipped inside, to be greeted by the ever-smiling Curtis, who kissed us both politely and felt our bulges, leaving no doubt what he wanted. I felt him, he was already rock hard and obviously had no underwear.
We both had jocks, for easy access. We kissed some more. He had a tongue like a snake, and I began to wish I hadn't bothered with the jock. He peeled our polos off, and took time kissing our chests, while unbuttoning and removing his short-sleeved shirt. He was remarkably well-toned, and hairless until the treasure trail. He worked his way down our bodies, like the cat that found the cream.
I kissed John, as our shorts dropped to our ankles. He pulled our dicks out and proceeded to suck and stroke. Somehow, he manoeuvered us so we could sit on the bed. His tongue worked its magic, each time taking it to the brink, before moving to the other. We thought it was time to reciprocate, so we asked him to stand up.
That brought his penis in line with my face. I dropped his shorts and a 6" dick sprang out, the perfect size for deep-throating. John got off the bed and knelt behind him. He murmured "Oh, fuck", as John rimmed him. He began face fucking me. John stood up, spat on his dick, then held Curtis still as he fed his cock in. He groaned. John took it out again, added more saliva, and began fucking in earnest.
I held his pole in my mouth, a trickle of precum dribbling out of both of us. John built up speed and I knew he would cum soon, which he did, with a grunt, and carried on shagging until he went limp and slipped out. Curtis turned around, cleaned John up, then eased himself down on me, and bounced up and down, while wanking himself. John knelt down just in time for Curtis to smother his chest. Once he had recovered, he climbed off me and used his tongue on my shaft and balls until I unleashed semen across his face. I licked it and fed it to him. The cabin stank of spunk. We dressed, checked that the coast was clear, and sneaked back to our quarters.
A couple of days later, I saw him by the pool, in the tightest, white Speedos imaginable. John was having an afternoon nap. A few minutes later, we were in cabin 211 again. This time, with Curtis to myself, we made love properly, ending up on our sides, me taking him from behind. He spilled his seed over his thigh as I bred him. I returned to our cabin. Feeling guilty, I told John what I'd done. His response was to push me onto the bed and fuck the living daylights out of me. Happy days.
