Ever been lying peacefully on a beach and then suddenly finding yourself sexually disturbed in the best of ways by the sight of some cute guy in a tight white swim suit and a black back-pack entering your horny horizon and refusing to leave, so you get up and follow him? How's that for an opening sentence? Got your interest aroused, have I? He sure had mine.

It was early summer 2004 before back packs and carry on bags became a menace and I was on my way to Greece to take part in the Olympic Games. I'm a pole-vaulter and was stressed out after training so decided to stop off in Italy for a few days before leaving from Brindisi. My grandparents hale from those parts and my Italian relatives have a beach house in a place called Metaponto near Matera which Mel Gibson made famous in his film "The Passion.'' It was the end of May and unseasonably cold so there was hardly anybody on the beach. I hadn't had sex for quite some time and was feeling holiday horny. Just as I'd given up hope of ever meeting someone, I spied with my little eye the cutest of peckers framed enticingly by a pair of white cotton elastic shorts. You know, the clinging kind where you can see what a person's religion is and wonder why the guy bothered to wear anything at all. I've got quite a pecker myself and it was badly in need of servicing so I was soon hot on his trail. Sit back and prepare for landing as you're about to get a step by step guideline to where my butt perfect back-packer, with the cute little pecker, led me. Then, if you're in the area some time, you can check it out for yourself.

I saw him coming from afar. A black and white speck which got more and more interesting as it drew nearer. He was a little on the short side but his body was great. Especially his legs which were what I call sturdy and the sort I really love having wrapped around me as I fuck my prey to heaven. But it was his white cotton elastic swimsuit which really turned me on. First the front and then the back where the cotton braced itself brazenly across his butt as he made his muscular way through the sand. He was obviously intent on getting somewhere and I sure as hell wanted to know where.

I picked up my beach towel and some sun cream lotion and followed at a discreet distance.

We walked for about a half hour. The beach was beginning to get pretty primitive as there were no longer any chalets or people and no sign of a road. He walked pretty fast too and I began to lag a little behind as by now my lust and my libido were beginning to subside and I'd convinced myself he was on his way to see his girl friend or something. He seemed completely unaware he was being followed but I knew I'd feel like a real dick-head if he suddenly turned round and found me right behind him. I decided to call it a day and dropped my towel. I stretched out on the sand.

The sun was hot for the first time that day and I had a sudden urge to skinny dip. I watched my potential prey disappear in the distance and looked around me. There was an abandoned rowboat and I could just make out the name Delfino 380 in faded red letters. There were a few derelict cabins or boat houses, some wire netting and a bit of scrubland but no sign of people or a road. I slipped out of my swimsuit and immersed myself in the crystal clear but somewhat cold Ionian sea. I lay on my back stroking my dick, something I quite often do when I'm in a supine position but particularly when I've got water lapping around me. At moments like these, I feel completely relaxed and in my element. I closed my eyes and floated, blissfully dreaming of that firm little butt and the cute little pecker. There would be others I told myself. The problem was where and when. The thought of him made me want to jerk off but that would only have polluted the water and I was feeling particularly grateful for the environment that afternoon. Everything was so beautiful, pure and perfect. I don't think I fell asleep exactly, though I might have dropped off for a few minutes, but when I opened my eyes again I noticed that Pecorino, as I later called him, was on his way back. There was no time for me to cover my modesty so I just lay there enjoying the fabulous combination of cool clear water and warm sun, and of course the sight of Pecorino drawing ever nearer.

Maybe he had indeed been looking for someone but he certainly hadn't found them. To my surprise he lay down on the other side of Delfino 380. At first I was overjoyed but wasn't sure if his close proximity was entirely for my benefit or just a natural inclination people have to sit next to someone. You can be sitting all by yourself in a completely empty restaurant and yet you can bet your bottom dollar that the first person to walk in will sit at the table right next to you. He looked in my direction and waved. I waved back. Then conscious of my semi-erection, I rolled over and swam a few laps. He was still there and still wearing his shorts when I came out of the water. This I found very embarrassing indeed. At least he could have had the good manners to take them off, to make me and my prominent member feel less conspicuous.

How I made it back to my towel I don't know but I flopped down on my front and furrowed my dick into the sand. Presently, I heard Pecorino going into the sea so couldn't resist looking over my shoulder. He was still wearing those fucking shorts. I watched him as he crested the waves like a deft dolphin. The water was on the shallow side for about thirty yards and I had all the time in the world to watch his divine dick as it inched its way towards me, very much in evidence on account of those transparent white shorts. My own dick began to feel like an oversized kidney bean and I couldn't help laughing to myself when I thought of the great Italian custom of eating kidney beans with pecorino cheese. What a delicious couple we made.

Of course he saw me smirking and thought I was laughing at the size of his beautiful protrusion. "Perche ride?'' he asked me angrily. "Why are you laughing?'' Now I understand Italian very well but am not proficient in the language so I was at a loss for words and didn't know how to explain my way out of this predicament, particularly as I knew how sensitive and touchy all Italians are about the size of their dicks. I smiled lamely and said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian.'' He scowled at me, then let out a string of oaths including one very offensive word. I'm ashamed to say I knew it only too well. I closed my eyes and hoped he'd go away. From the other side of Delfino 380, I heard him working his way out of those darn shorts and managed to catch a glimpse of his butt as he bent down and washed the sand out of them. Then I closed my eyes again so he wouldn't know I'd been looking. Still my dick was a dead giveaway.

I lay there trying to think up ways of making it up to him but nothing came to mind. Here we both were alone in this perfect paradise and not making the most of it. This time I definitely fell asleep, and so I think did he, for when I plucked up enough courage to look over to his side of the boat he seemed to be in the middle of an erotic dream. His dick was rock hard and pointing to the sky. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread and when I'm hot and horny I simply let caution go flying out the window. Or to the winds in this case. Before I could reason with myself, my wet mouth was wrapped firmly round his mouth-watering dick.

Initially he began to resist but I'm so good at my blow job that he didn't protest twice and began to move with me. In fact he was soon lunging half way down my throat. I ran my tongue down the length of this unexpected hotdog and chomped happily away at it. After a while I thought this might be quite an appropriate moment to apologize to him and had just about managed to mumble " Bello, bello " with direct reference to his juicy protuberance when he filled my mouth with a steady stream of Mediterranean cum. It sure tasted good and was just the refreshment I'd been looking for.

"Ciao," he said, rather late in the day, shaking his dick as if he were shaking my hand, " Sono Dario.'' I wiped my mouth as nonchalantly as I could and said " I'm Barringer.'' Introductions over we didn't seem to have much to say to each other. I watched him as he got back into his shorts. "Ciao,'' he said again. " A domani.'' Then off he went leaving me lying there, my kidney bean deprived of its pecorino dressing. I muttered the same offensive word he'd used earlier: stronzo. By the way, it means bastard, ass-hole, dick-head and a whole host of other not very flattering things. Even so, as I was gathering myself together, I realized he'd said, "See you tomorrow,'' so was back at Delfino 380 the next day.

Needless to say Dario didn't show, so the day after that I was going to give the place a miss and stay near my hotel. Then just as I was convincing myself to forget all about him, I saw him coming in the distance, still in his white transparent shorts, still with the black back-pack and, of course, still with his perky pecker. He went sailing past without seeing me so once again, and against my better judgement, I decided to follow him. As per usual I lagged behind a little until he arrived at Delfino 380. The moment he saw me, he slipped seductively out of his shorts and stroking his dick apologetically said, " Mi dispiace per ieri,'' (I'm sorry about yesterday). My first thought was to make the little bastard beg for it this time but his dick was so tempting as it danced in the sun that I was soon down on him again and making a more general tour of his terrain. This time I wanted him whimpering at my feet for more.

The sun, as usual was an extra stimulant and his dick tasted like honey. I beeswaxed him and then took my tongue down to his succulent balls and inevitably to his tight shaft which at first he tightened even further but I plated his butt real good and tongue fucked him until he actually let out little yelps, something I had never heard before. It made me all the more determined to turn those yelps into growls and the growls into groans until he was mine for the asking. I slid my pole-vaulter's body against his tight little frame and ended up with my dick parallel with his mouth. Ever the bastard, or stronzo, he declined the invitation and plated my balls with his tangy tongue and got me so horny for him that I didn't wait for any mouth lubricant and just rammed my over generous dick up his tight little ass.

This time he did more than yelp, he yelled in agony so I took pity on him and withdrew my sword from his sheath. I creamed his butt with suntan lotion and gobbed into my hand to anoint my dick and then took a second stab into his heaving hole. He sucked me right in there and made extraordinary noises in his throat, snorting like a pig searching for truffles. This really turned me on. I took hold of him by the scruff of his neck and physically carried him with my dick down to the water's edge and pole-vaulted him in the surf. I tore at his ass as if I was shredding lettuce and he tore at my chest with his nails and fairly yanked my hair out by the roots. For my part, I nearly drowned him in that surging surf. I rammed my dick up his shaft until it felt as if I'd almost reached his throat for he literally frothed at the mouth. In fact I thought I'd killed the guy.

What produced such savage violence in me I'll never know and this time he had every reason to call me "stronzo'' as he gasped and gulped for air but this "stronzo'' was one of complete and utter sexual satisfaction, not of anger. He wrapped his arms round my neck, thrust his tongue in my mouth and proceeded to swallow me. At the same time he thrust his hot little ass down on my dick and began to swallow that as well. The combination of his passionate kisses and his hot ass brought me to such a climax that I began to shudder like an erupting volcano. I wanted to come inside him but I also wanted to come all over him.

As if he could read my mind, he slid his tongue out of my mouth and his ass off my dick and did a back flap into the sea. He lay floating there spread eagle, waiting for me to spill my molten lava. Momentarily, I forgot my earlier misgivings about polluting the water and let go a steady torrent of red hot cum. He opened his mouth wide and lapped up everything he could with his ravenous tongue. The rest he let lap over him and mingle with the surf. Exhausted, I collapsed into the cleansing sea and proceeded to love and adore him.

Later we went back to my hotel and slept in each other's arms like two commonplace lovers. But there was nothing at all commonplace about that day of sea, sex and semen. It's seared in my soul forever. Together with the singular sight of his beautiful bulging butt opening like a sea anemone to receive me as we sucked and fucked into the night.