Loss of Innocence by Barringer
Date: May 20, 2022

What do you do when you've 'been there, done him' and are about to join the list of the sexually jaded? My advice is to flip back the dick-packed pages of your sexual album and remember when you were young and innocent. Pure as snow but horny to go.

I've got two holiday snaps that I like to call 'I wonder' and 'I know.' They were taken pre and post Stefano on the terrace of an apartment in southern Italy that my folks used to rent for the summer. He wasn't that much older than me but was a qualified plumber and eventually did some excellent work on my tubes and inner linings. I was only sixteen the first time I set eyes on him but I looked older and I was pretty strong too as I played a lot of sports. I also had a great dick I wanted to show off to him. Of course, I convinced myself he was into pussy as he hadn't shown much interest in me when I went to collect the keys from the hardware store where he worked with his father. The pair of them repaired almost everything that went wrong in the rented apartments. I longed to get inside his pants but didn't think there was much hope of that as Sicilian boys pride themselves on being macho men and very rarely come out of the closet although they do leave the door ajar occasionally.

I had to wait till my 18th summer for that door to open. I was studying in Sienna and my parents were in Boston so they sent me ahead to open the place up and get in some food supplies. It was a mini-penthouse overlooking the sea and there was a big lemon tree which shaded us from the sun and also stopped us from being spied on by the folks next door. They were from Naples and were both nosey and noisy. Fortunately, they didn't usually come until later in the year when the heat was less intense. The roof was pretty low so it got hellish hot during the day but there was a great view at night. Especially when the moon was full and the stars sparkling on the sea. That summer my eyes were sparkling too. I was in the middle of picking some lemons off the tree when I saw Stefano's handsome head appear over the frosted glass partition that separated us from our nosey neighbours. At first, I thought they'd moved in early and my heart sank at the sound of someone moving around in there but both my dick and my spirits rose again when I realized it was our hunky keeper-of-the-keys. I couldn't have wished for a better surprise package on my birthday.

He told me he'd come to fix the boiler but was cleaning the leaves out of the guttering and told me I'd better do the same so I went inside in search of an empty box. When I came back, he'd shimmied along the roof to give me a hand. He also presented me with a pair of mouth-watering thighs. He was only wearing cut-offs and his suntanned legs dangled temptingly over the edge of the roof just inches away from my nose as I stood on the ladder waiting for dead leaves but longing for live Sicilian flesh. He didn't speak very much English and my Italian wasn't exactly fluent even though I'd been coming there since I was ten but I managed to understand most of what he said and anyway body language is international and we both knew what we wanted from each other.

I gazed in appreciative wonder at his wide muscled shoulders outlined against the sky, at his full shield-like pecs and seriously ripped abs that somehow got tighter as they headed towards the open waistband of his jeans. I looked fascinated at the beads of sweat dribbling down his manly chest to the fine line of hair that led to his love nest. I thought how good it would be to run my tongue down it and make his dick brim over for me but I was too shy to make the necessary move and he was too Sicilian, or too much of a cock-teaser, to offer me his dick so the moment soon passed.

You might say I blew it but, unfortunately, I didn't get to blow him. Not yet anyway. Still, as things turned out, he was less backward in coming forward than I'd imagined. In fact, to tell the unadulterated truth, I was the uptight asshole who needed the encouragement as I was so afraid to offend him and be labelled a faggot that I played it 'prim and proper' and acted like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. Or anywhere else for that matter.

Fortunately, he took all this in his stride and was the first one to pounce in the cat and mouse game we were both playing. He was hot and horny and his girlfriend wasn't giving out I discovered later. So he was raring to go. Of course it took me a little while to figure all this out and read between the sexual lines. After all, I hadn't had all that experience in seducing men. I mean I'd played around in school and all that and sucked a few dicks but I'd never actually fucked someone or been fucked myself. So how was I to know that Stefano had similar thoughts simmering under his Sicilian surface. How was I to know he was longing to have sex with a man and was looking for the right opportunity or that he knew full well my parents hadn't arrived and I was by myself and had the hots for him. I suppose I'd made that mighty clear by the way I'd looked at him and trembled at his touch when he gave me the keys.

We cleaned up the terrace and I gave him some lemonade I'd made from the home grown lemons. That's one of the advantages of living in Sicily. Fresh fruit is everywhere just waiting to be picked. Something told me that Stefano was ripe for picking too. It was enough to look at the overloaded fruit basket between his legs. All I had to do was reach out and help myself. But I didn't.

There was a horny hiatus while we sipped our drinks and penetrated each other with our eyes but still nothing happened. He stretched out his legs and slipped one hand inside his cut-offs. My mouth went dry in spite of the fact it was full of lemonade. He asked me about my parents and I told him they weren't due till later that day. That brought the conversation to a sudden halt but the body language was still hellish strong between us. I knew my red face was giving him the green light but he seemed to be biding his time. Or maybe he really was into pussy or I wasn't his type. I'd been lusting after him for two years but had almost convinced myself I was batting at the wrong wicket.

I couldn't believe this handsome, super-stacked guy could possibly have any sexual interest in a nerd like me. Of course, there was absolutely no reason for my low self-esteem as I had a buffed body and a great dick. In the end it was my shorts that saved me. I was wearing no underwear and the thought of making it with him was turning me on and my dick was tenting my Bermudas.

Thoughts travel and some of mine must have come to rest on Stefano as he stretched out one long, luscious leg and let his bare foot come to rest on the inside of my throbbing thigh. The immediate effect was to send my head reeling and my dick steeling. Inside, I felt I was on a roller-coaster ride or walking the high wire but my stupid New-England reserve took over and I acted as if we were playing a game of chess or something and gave no external sign of any enjoyment or even surprise. As I said before, I'm such an asshole sometimes. Most of the time actually. Unperturbed, he worked his way sensuously under my baggy Bermudas till his toes were playing sexual ping pong with my balls. I felt dizzy with delight and hard with pleasure but blushed like a silly schoolgirl.

To cover my embarrassment I asked him the word for toes in Italian.

It turned out to be the equivalent of 'foot fingers.'

So far, so good.

"Have you ever been foot-fucked before?" he asked in Italian.

This I understood. One always learns four-letter words first in any language.

I slipped down in my chair and inched my hips further towards him.

"I've never been anything fucked." I said in English.

By now, the sole of his foot was rubbing against the wonderful woody he'd given me and his 'foot fingers' were playing a horny tune on my flute, sending untold vibrations through my entire body.

I exploded like a firecracker and came all over his foot.

"Sorry," I said, realizing I'd ruined the party rather early.

"Let's have a shower," he said.

I followed him obediently into the bathroom, my mouth, and ass open to eventual possibilities.

I couldn't believe what was finally happening. We'd crossed the 'forbidden' divide and made sexual contact. At least he had. I wondered how much further he was willing to go. I don't know why, but part of me still half expected him to give me a black eye or a broken nose.

I climbed out of my soggy Bermudas but he was still wearing his enticing cut-offs. He invited me to take them off for him. He had his back to me at first so I got the full impact of his firm brown butt as I peeled them off. He obviously let it all hang out when he took the sun. And there was a lot there to hang out I can tell you. In fact, I had a few problems getting his cut-offs over his uncut manmeat and had to yank it out. It shuddered like a snake on concrete between my fingers as I wrapped my palm round it so I knew I was on the right track. I felt so happy. He was young, hung and probably full of cum. And he was finally all mine. Slyly, I began to jerk him off as I lathered him up. I also got to put my tongue in his ear and massage his pecs and cradle his balls and do all the things I'd ever wet-dreamed of doing to him. I even got to lick his pits and drool my way down his back to his butt. Maybe it was beginner's luck but my tongue eventually found its way into his crevice. He didn't say anything but groaned his appreciation. Once again I realized I was on the right track.

By the way for your edification 'language' and 'tongue' are the same word in Italian. That figures I suppose as no words were spoken. Just 'tongue talk.' One thing led to another and as soon as I realized I was in charge of the situation I became more bold. My dick also became surprisingly hard again. Later in our relationship, when I spoke more Italian and he spoke more English, he told me that he'd never been possessed by a man. Never wanted to be. It was just that something clicked inside him when he felt the tingle of my tongue on his back and the hardness of my teenage dick rubbing against his butt. He didn't have the will or the words to tell me to stop and just let himself go with the flow and there was certainly a lot of that by the time we'd finished I can tell you!

In my youthful exuberance, I had him sliding and slithering up the shower wall with the force of my nine-incher and the jet of his cum, when he finally came, could easily have shattered the full-length mirror at the velocity it was travelling. Gouts more of it shot from the end of his erupting cock as I gave him the full length of mine and rammed the ass off him. It covered the mirror and mixed with the steam of the shower so we could no longer see our reflections from the neck down. But I'm getting ahead of myself and probably spoiling your jerk-off journey to a great fuck.

So let's get back to me working the tip of my tongue into his tight asshole and hearing him hiss in horny pleasure and open his ass for me like a budding rose seeking nectar from the morning dew. Sorry to wax so lyrical on you but good sex has that effect on me. And I certainly gave him a good waxing before I inserted the rest of my candle. Funny isn't it, all my life I'd dreamed of what it was going to feel like being fucked by some super stud and here I was about to plumb the depths of this made-to-measure plumber that I'd lusted after for over two years. The 'forbidden' fruit at the top of the tree had turned out to be not as far out of reach as I had imagined. I could hardly believe what was happening to me. I don't think he could either. I heard him gobbing into his hand and knew he was preparing me some home made lubricant for my dick and his ass.

"I love your dick,'' he said in heavily accented English. "I want it inside of me."

The compliment went straight to my head and my dick made a beeline for his honey pot. Sorry, I know we're back to nectar again but the aphrodisiac aroma of his pre-cum and the potent paste he made with his fingers as he mixed our sexual juices together and anointed my dickhead with the oozy schmoozy result, felt and smelt, so good that I almost came in his hand.

He hissed some more and I got a grip on myself, and on his ass, and worked my excited dick inside him. He raised his butt to facilitate my entrance and sucked me in like an anemone swallowing a shrimp. His ass lips clasped my dick like an insatiable suction pump and he began to fuck me back with his butt thrusts. "Fuck me, fuck me," he screamed in English. Not that I needed to be told. Once again words were no longer necessary so nothing was lost in translation as my fully aroused dick went into automatic pilot and fucked him senseless. He let out a string of obscenities in Italian but these only spurred me on. I didn't know what he was saying but it sounded so much better in Italian. My dick seemed to swell to twice its size inside him. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" he kept saying and I tell you man, I really came of age inside him. Know what I mean. Anyway, twice nine equals eighteen in case you haven't arrived at that conclusion yourself. I did us both proud and left an indelible impression on his ass and a contented grin on his face. He looked like the cat who got the cream. Although, actually, the bathroom mirror had gotten most of that.

As we washed up, he made me promise I'd never tell anybody I'd fucked him. He'd never be able to live it down. I promised even if, as I said, I was pretty proud of myself and of my sexual prowess. They say pride comes before a fall and later that day I found myself face down on the kitchen table, arms and legs akimbo being fucked within an inch of my life. The sun, and my dick, had gone down and I offered to make some sandwiches but before I could eat even one of them or swallow my beer he had his mega-member inside me reducing me to a shuddering, teeth-chattering wreck. I suppose he felt obliged to redeem himself in my eyes, and in my ass, and prove to me anything I could do he could do better. Maybe he hadn't believed me when I told him I'd never been 'anything fucked' or maybe he'd conveniently chosen not to understand, but he literally ripped my virgin ass open. I'd loved fondling his thick prick under the shower and I'd also dreamed of putting it in my mouth but I'd never imagined how painful it would feel inside me. Someone told me once that Italians were like their sports cars. "They come on strong but have no staying power." Stefano definitely had staying power. In fact, the bastard over-stayed his welcome in my ass and pounded me so long and strong that I thought my guts would explode and the rest of me would go into short circuit.

Of course it wasn't all bad. Once I'd gotten over the initial pain and fright. But there was no gentle persuasion or finger foreplay, or what I like to call feather fucking. Like I did to him with the tip of my tongue. Stefano entered me like a gladiator entering the ring. It was kill or be killed. He had me gulping, hiccuping and screaming for mercy as he wedged himself inside me and tore at my ass like a Doberman devouring a piece of prime steak. I tell you man, I lost my innocence and my dignity in one fell swoop. Besides a big, thick Sicilian dick he had thick and wiry pubes too which scraped the bottom of my battered butt as he thrust his dick in to the hilt. I could feel the sweat pouring off him and dribbling down my back. At one stage, I found myself wondering why it didn't turn to vapour with the heat we were producing between us. I also felt something suspiciously like blood dribbling down between my legs. Then just when I was beginning to think I couldn't take one more second – or inch – of it any more without dissolving into vapour myself he began to slow down. At that point I'd already drifted off into sexual oblivion and was about to pass out. Then, I heard what I thought was the sound of waves lapping on the shore in the dim distance and shipwrecked sailors crying out for help but it was actually the sound of Stefano's balls slapping up against my ass, mixed with my cries of joy and pain each time he hit my sensitive prostate.

Suddenly I felt strangely passive. I stopped struggling and let go of my sexual rudder allowing him to navigate his sturdy ship along my virginal shores and seek out every hitherto unexplored nook and cranny and plumb the very depths of my being. It began to feel so good that I never wanted to surface again. Strangely I didn't even want to come to a climax because that would be the end of it and I didn't want it to end. I knew my parents might be arriving at any minute and I knew I had to clean both myself and the kitchen table but all I wanted to do was fall asleep with Stefano's dick inside me. He must have read my mind because he became suddenly tender and kissed my neck.

"Don't worry," he said. " I'll take you next door with me."

Don't ask me in what language. I don't remember. But our bodies were beyond language by now. He washed me like a baby under the shower then wrapped me in a big white towel and carried me into the other apartment. He laid me gently on the bed and I fell back exhausted onto the fluffed up pillows, my body still shaking with afterglow tremors. I immediately slipped into an almost coma like sleep so didn't hear him padding back to clean up the kitchen and bathroom and remove all evidence of the sexual happenings that had recently taken place.

Fortunately, my parents didn't come till late the next day so I had time to gird up my loins for another hot session with him although most of me felt it had been left on the kitchen table. I never could explain to my folks why I preferred to eat outside. Stefano was very penitent when he came back and wanted to make up to me for his rough treatment. He seemed to have the run of the place and cooked me dinner and fed me with wine. I say 'fed' because it was mostly from his mouth to mine. It sounds gross but it was great as he was a terrific kisser. This was totally unexpected as well. I'd also been told that straight men don't eat quiche and they don't kiss either. Stefano must have been the exception to the rule as there was no part of my mouth he left unkissed. And when he moved on from the insides of my lips to the inside of my foreskin I was ready for the funny farm.

That evening he'd fucked me with some kind of vengeance until I thought my guts would explode, but what he did later with his tongue was something else. Something nobody has done to me ever since which is probably why I look back to my 18th summer with such horny nostalgia. He even kissed and sucked my toes and did everything he could to please me.

"I've never done this to a man before," he said. "I'll probably go to hell for it."

"Take me with you when you go," I cried, "It's absolute heaven."

After that there was a horny lull in our two-line conversation which he filled by looking straight into my eyes and placing my hand on the hot hummock between his legs.

"Do you suck cock?" he asked in stilted English as if he was offering me an aperitif or something which I suppose in a way he was. Even if it was long after dinner and almost breakfast time.

"As a matter of fact I do," I said. "I thought you were never going to ask."

Strange the dumb things you say when you're in horny heaven.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, that was the beginning of our 'language lessons' together. At least that's what I told my parents we were doing when they came home and I wasn't there to greet them. I can't tell you how turned on I felt next day when I heard them having a late lunch on our terrace while I was mid-munch next door and making a mega-meal out of Stefano's juicy dick.

"What were you two doing all the afternoon?" they asked.

"Exchanging cultural views," I said. And they swallowed it.

Of course, once I got a taste for Stefano's dick in my mouth, I swallowed much more.

But let's leave that for another story.