Hans Larsson

"You fucking love it so shut up, you grouchy ginger bastard."

Bjorn was giggling and then rolled out from underneath Rekker to get up and search his pants pockets back in the bedroom. Lube. Yep. The Swede always carried on it him everywhere out of habit because he never knew where he'd find his next lay.

It had always been this way due to his lifestyle choices and the fact that he only slept with men. Walking back into the hot tub area the Swede stood in front of Rekker, grabbing his cock and stroking it a few times in a lewd display, offering up lewd moans almost like a show. Passing the bottle to Rekker, which was strawberry scented, he then winked as he turned around.

"Here you go. Lube me up, babe."

The Swede turned around and bent over guessing this would be the easiest position for the Brit to slide those guitarist's fingers inside of him.