I'm going to cum straight to the point and maximize your jerk off time. I'm shacked up in Spain with a horny teenage twink and a permanent hard-on. In fact, I'm dying to jerk off right now even as I write this. So why shouldn't you have a hard-on too. After all isn't that what erotic stories are all about?
I know from past experience that big bundles often come in small packages but I hadn't reckoned on such a generous portion of succulent Spanish sausage on such a slender frame. Or that my twink would have so much juice stored up in there. Suffice to say his dick was long and lush with an inexhaustible supply of fresh Mediterranean cumcream. And my ravenous English mouth kept coming back for more. I literally lapped it up. Unfortunately the whole fuck feast resulted in conjugal indigestion. My wife was unable to swallow it, so to speak. But I'm getting ahead of the story.
Clare and I exchanged homes for a month with a Spanish couple who had a comfortable apartment in the center of Barcelona and a small beach chalet fifteen kilometres away. Very nice and very handy. In fact ours was the better deal as all we had to offer them was a ramshackle farmhouse in Wiltshire. We'd only been in Spain five days or so when my wife got an attack of what is known as "funny tummy." We English are famous for it. I don't know whether it was the shellfish she ate or the excess oil in the food but she was in the upchuck for almost a week and off her food for practically another one.
Actually, writing this, I'm can't help thinking of the little ironies of life. There was Clare throwing up in town at the very thought of food while I was feeding my face on prime Spanish twinkmeat. Of course, at first, I didn't exactly neglect her. Not intentionally anyway. Louse I may sometimes be but there are limits even to my 'louseness'. At least I used to think so. Anyway it was Clare's idea. She didn't want to ruin my holiday. So I set off for the coast immediately after breakfast and returned to keep her company at dinner. Although I was the only one who ate anything solid. If you get my drift.
Back to the story line and how it all got started. The second day I arrived at the beach I noticed a group of teenagers surfing. They were having a great time and I enjoyed watching them. Also because some of them were infinitely watchable. There's something really pleasant and pleasurable about looking at healthy young bodies. I mean I'm not the kind who drools over dick and wants to fuck every ass that he sees but I do like a guy with a handsome face and a great body. Especially on the beach where there are so many available. And probably available to be had too. But I hadn't come to Spain with that exactly in mind. I mean I was with Clare and, by and large, I've been fairly faithful to her over the last five years. I had no idea when I left England that I was going to end up feeling a bit like that guy in "Death in Venice" --- which if you haven't read by the way I highly recommend. I was just innocently sitting in front of my chalet watching a group of kids surfing and later playing beach volley. And then Diego 'insinuated' his way into my life. Don't know why that word comes to mind as there's something sly and slithery about it. But that's what he did. I looked up the meaning in my dictionary before writing this and was happy to discover it also means introduce, infuse, instil and inculcate. All of which describe exactly what Diego did to me. He definitely introduced and seduced me. And infused and confused me. He also instilled and thrilled me. And if you know any Latin languages it won't take you long to recognize the similarity between inculcate and the Latin word for buggery. Though that's what I did to him and not vice versa.
Anyway, as our great bard says in 'Twelfth Night': "Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them." And I certainly had Diego's big juicy dick thrust upon me. I gave him no encouragement at all but he sort of attached himself to me. Maybe because I'm English and have fair hair and blue eyes. I don't know and I forgot to ask him. But from the moment his beach ball landed on my lap he hardly left my side. In fact he's still with me. But once again I'm getting ahead of the story.
He tried to apologize in English but got his words and tenses mixed up and made me laugh because he said something about "boys bothering gentlemen with their balls." Diego didn't seem to mind my mirth too much and ran off with the ball. Next day he was on his own. Still in his wetsuit or whatever you call it even though the weather wasn't suitable for surfing. I think I must have patronized him at first and spoke to him as if he was a child. I mean he only looked as if he was fifteen and I'm thirty-one and almost twice his age. I could have been his father.
I spoke to him about school and his parents. This did seem to bother him as he told me he was nearly nineteen and had a big dick. All in one breath. This intrigued me because I couldn't see much sign of a bulge in his skintight suit. I tried to change the subject but he seemed intent on showing me his dick and if some friends of his hadn't arrived at that moment I think he'd have done so. The third day he arrived in a white swimsuit. For my benefit I'm sure. And I must admit there were definite signs of a bulge. But once again he was in company so we didn't pursue the subject. Not that I was really interested. Nearly nineteen or not he was much too young looking for me and made me feel a bit like Michael Jackson even though I had no intention of cuddling him or asking him to sleep with me.
Nevertheless, I took my digital camera along with me next day. I wanted to share these moments on the beach with Clare and show her some of the scenes I'd talked about. This of course included the boys surfing and playing volleyball. Normally Diego went off with them at lunchtime but this time he stayed. He wanted me to take some photos of him. I was a little hesitant as I didn't want him whipping out his dick on the beach but he seemed so eager that I gave in and took a few shots. They were great. He was really natural in front of the camera and also seemed to speak to the lens. It excited me. There was something so innately sexy about his expressions and the way he stood. Nothing arch or vulgar. Just plain, turn-on sexy. And after only ten shots I was definitely turned on. One of the horniest ones was in his surfing gear. He stood there looking boldly into the camera with his arms hanging loosely down at his side. Just as if he was going to beat someone to the draw But I already knew from my limited experience of him that he had something else in mind.
People were coming back from lunch by now so I took him inside the chalet with me and took some more photos using the diffused light coming through the frosted glass of the cabin window. My throat was dry and my dick was already hard when I asked him to slip out of his wetsuit. I knew where this would inevitably lead but suddenly more than anything I wanted to see that big dick of his. Something told me he wasn't boasting and I was in for a horny surprise. He was more than happy to oblige and stood there in his little white, virginal briefs. Besides being very photogenic, he was also extremely expressive. His baby face contrasted nicely with his perfectly formed adult body and his come on expressions were even more effective when they were set off by the skimpy white panties.
At one point he slipped his hand down the front of them as men naturally do when they're wearing jeans but the weight of his hand pulled the pants down so I could see the beginnings of his dark pubic hairs. And he looked at me as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth all the time he was doing it.
It didn't take me long to notice that his hand seemed to be grasping something of no mean proportions. And he needed little direction from me. He knew exactly what to do. It was as if he had been rehearsing for this moment all his life. Slowly he drew his dick out of his briefs and presented it to the camera. As he had promised me, it was big. Long, thick, fat and enormous would be nearer the truth. He stepped out of his briefs and I noticed the tops of his thighs for the first time. They were more developed than the rest of his legs. Probably from all the surfing. They gave an even extra dimension to his dick. I can't really describe it. You'd have to see for yourself. It was a kind of trompe l'oeil. The thickness of his thighs made his penis look literally like a third leg. A boy of nineteen was standing in front of me with what seemed to be a nineteen-inch dick.
I must have taken over fifty photos by now but I was hungry for more. Everything had been pale and white so far. I wanted a bit of colour in the picture. I took a kitchen chair from behind me and spread my beach towel over it. He drew his legs up so his feet were on the chair and I could get to photographic grips with his XL balls and the dark hint of an exotic asshole just beneath them. His chest was perfectly hairless and childlike but his legs and asshole were hornily hairy. And in the middle of it all, his dick stood up proud and tall. With his hand still grasping it so you could appreciate its size.
As I took shot after shot he began to jerk himself off slowly. Almost imperceptibly. Offering his dick to the camera although I knew by now he was offering it to me. From then, until the time he came, each shot was a lover's embrace. It was as if we were making digital love to each other. I wanted so much at that moment to pull down my own pants. To jerk off in front of him and fill his mouth with my cumcream. Even more, I wanted to fill my own mouth with that dream of a dick of his and the thick jizz that was oozing from it, falling in white cascades onto the colourful towel. I persevered to the end, took the last picture and merged his cum with mine as I sprayed him like a water faucet and finally got my mouth round his juicy dick. I no longer cared about Michael Jackson or how young Diego looked. For me he had cum of age right in front of me on that long summer's afternoon.
I sucked him dry and kissed him gratefully and told him how sorry I was I had ever doubted him or his dick. We still had over a week ahead of us although our meetings became more and more difficult. Clare was getting better and wanted to come to the beach and I was getting crazy for Diego and wanted to fuck the ass off of him while clasping that fabulous thick dick of his. His friends had arrived looking for him as we were cleaning up. He rushed out, still smelling of my spunk, and dived into the sea. I don't think they noticed anything but were curious to know what he'd been doing in my chalet. He told them he'd been looking at the photos I'd taken. I promised them copies. So now I had to get in Diego's pants without arousing Clare's suspicions or giving our sexual game away to the boys.
Somehow or other we managed it. Either in my car or eventually in the town flat when Clare was having her hair done. But it was all very furtive and I couldn't really relax or dig my dick into Diego as I wanted so much to do. We hadn't really discussed it but I knew he was a virgin in that department and it would take time and patience to break him in. Still I got many mouthfuls of his dick and oodles of cumcream. Our departure date was growing ominously closer. We were due to leave in two days. Clare was fully recovered and taking up all my time. She now had a ravenous appetite. And not only for food. I knew not what to do. I wished I could invent a headache or develop a funny tummy. These things are so much easier for women. And everyone always believes them. Except other women of course. Then something totally unexpected happened and I thanked heaven for little girls.
A girlfriend of Clare's was passing through Barcelona on her way to Madrid and wanted to spend the day with her. Clare was very apologetic about leaving me all alone on the last day of our holiday but louselike I told her not to worry. To go out and enjoy herself. She deserved it after all that time in bed. I assured her I was happy to spend another day on the beach. Maybe linger a little longer and enjoy the sunset. I encouraged her to go on a shopping spree as all girls love to do. I was so ecstatic I gave her my credit card. Then called Diego on his mobile phone and gave him the glad news.
Once more I asked after his parents but this time it was so he could invent an alibi in case we stayed late. I hoped and prayed Clare wouldn't take it into her head to show her friend the beach house. Luckily it turned out to be a dull day and hardly anyone was around. We made sure nobody saw us enter the chalet and closed the windows and shutters. I looked at Diego's eager face and thought once again about the ironies of life. Here I was closing myself off from the rest of the world so that I could open Diego's ass and show him new horizons. After doing my very best to avoid him during the first three days of our acquaintance. As I lubed us both up I looked at his sweet face and said, "Are you sure this is what you want?" He looked at me a bit like the first day and replied, "Of course it is. I want you to make me pregnant so you will come back for me." I kissed him and said I would if I could and then suddenly felt sad. I hadn't for one moment considered what life would be like without him.
I nuzzled my nose in his dick and licked between his legs and sampled the rough hairbrush growing beneath his balls. For a moment I was reminded of Clare's pussy but pushed the thought out of my head afraid it would affect my potency. But I needn't have worried. I grew hard and soft at the same time. My heart melted when I saw his little rosebud of an asshole, looking for all the world like a pink shrimp, as it puckered and pursed its lips waiting for the grand entry. It was at that precious moment I loved him and knew I had to find some way for us to be together. I told him I wanted him to experience what only two people in love can experience and not to worry if it hurt at first. I told him that very soon I wanted him to do the same to me. I'd taken it up the ass once or twice but never by someone with a dick as big and beautiful as his. In fact I wasn't sure how I was going to manage it but knew I was ready and could take all the pain just to feel the joy of him inside me. I said all this while invading his virgin territory first with one finger, then two. But it wasn't love talk or foreplay. I really meant it. And he knew I really meant it and relaxed and sighed.
Soon he began to work himself up into a slow frenzy. Rather like he achieved with me as I took those horny photos and found myself wanting more and more. He writhed and squirmed and swallowed my fingers and his velvet passage began to open like the petals of a rose waiting for the rays of the sun to penetrate the tightly closed bud so that it could burst into flower and luxuriate in all its potential glory. I knew this was the time to enter and watered the delicate center of his anal flowerbed with drops of pre-cum. Then I massaged my way gently in with my mushroom head and as he opened his mouth, and the air filled his lungs, I went in for the kill and filled his ass with my eight-inch dick. He screamed first in pain then in pleasure as I hit his sphincter and found the pulse of his love button. I almost cried with the pure joy of it. To be the first to give the gift of love to another human being. And know it will never be referred to vulgarly as "my first fuck" or "when I took it up the ass" but "the first time I made love."
I rode him hard, then I rode him soft, then I rode him all night. I never wanted to go home and I certainly never wanted to go back to England. We clung to each other and we kissed each other goodbye. Then we clung to each other again. It was five in the morning by the time I dropped him at his door. He told his parents he'd been dancing and that hackneyed old song took on new meaning for me. I really and truly could have danced all night. I was on such a fluffy cloud of lighthearted happiness that I wasn't really surprised that Clare was fully dressed and waiting for me. "Sorry I'm late darling," I said, "I fell asleep." Clare's face was ashen. "No need to ask you who with," she said handing me the camera. She had borrowed it to take some shots. Unfortunately, she and her friend had looked to see how they had turned out. They both got a considerable shock when they saw the results of my long erotic afternoon with Diego and his dick. Stupidly I had forgotten to remove the memory card from the camera. Or had some instinct told me to let Clare find out about my secret sex life and face up to the consequences? "O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive."
I didn't know what to say. Looking back, I don't think it would have made any difference what I said. I knew it was the beginning of the end. After five years with Clare I knew her well enough to realize she would never be able to forgive or forget. It was the end of our holiday and the end of our marriage.
Some instinct of preservation made me look inside the camera. The card was still there. In her shock and disbelief Clare hadn't thought to destroy the evidence. In that split second I knew where my loyalties lay and who and what was most important to me at this point in my life. I made my choice. I accompanied Clare to the airport, as a gentleman should, but didn't leave with her. Louse that I am. As I told you at the beginning of this story, I'm still here.
As yet I don't know what I'm going to say to Diego and how exactly I'm going to fit him into my life. Not to mention his dick into my ass. But as Scarlett O'Hara has been saying for nearly seventy years, "Tomorrow is another day. I'll think about that tomorrow." With Diego.
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