Sausage Meat by Joncy
Date: May 21, 2022

It all started late last summer when I heard unfamiliar voices coming from the apartment block just across from mine. A family of three seemed to have moved in overnight. Two parents and a teenage kid. At first, I was annoyed as the place had been empty for quite some time and I'd gotten used to the quiet but then my nostrils inhaled the aphrodisiacal smell of barbecued sausage wafting through the air and my mouth watered at the sight of the hunk in charge of the proceedings. I could only see him from the waist up but that was enough. For the moment anyway. He was bare-chested and well buffed. It was lust at first sight as far as I was concerned. I became a regular Peeping Tom from that moment on. I couldn't resist looking through the shades or lying in the dark at night hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Once I saw the shape of his body outlined on the bathroom window as he took a midnight shower. My imagination ran riot as I watched him soaping between his legs, wondering what was going on down there as he did so, and I'm sure you'll have no difficulty trying to imagine what went on between my own legs while I was watching him.

Last summer was hot and torrid and the object of my desire seemed to spend most of it in the nude - or at least shirtless - and generally by himself. His parents seemed to be out most of the day. I told myself he probably hadn't made friends yet and that I should pluck up courage, call across and ask if I could come over and suck his dick or something. Trouble is he never seemed to glance my way so nothing really developed between us until I accidentally on purpose bumped into him at our local market. By the time that happened, in the middle of the third week, I'd become a basket case. The saying goes "Out of sight, out of mind" but this was a case of constantly in sight but forever out of reach. I began to find myself wishing he was just a bit taller or the wall of his balcony was just a bit lower so I could see the rest of him. I also, in a moment of melancholic desperation, read all that my Wikipedia had to tell me about sausages.

This included appetizing info such as 'Sausages' as a result of economical butchery. Traditionally, sausage-makers put to use tissues and organs which are perfectly edible and nutritious in a form that allows for preservation. These are stuffed into a tubular casing made from carefully cleansed and turned inside-out intestines producing the characteristic cylindrical shape.'' I was also intrigued to see that, internationally, there are endless varieties of sausage. Just as many, if not more, than there are varieties of dick. Not that I'd tasted or sampled half of the juicy items on display. I also found out why we call them 'bangers' in England. "The filler used in many sausages helps them to keep their shape as they are cooked. As the meat contracts in the heat, the filler expands and absorbs the moisture lost from the meat. This can sometimes lead to the sausage exploding due to shrinkage of the tight skin during cooking." My mind positively boggled!

We eat them with mashed potatoes over here and I had vivid wet dreams of my new neighbour's sausage exploding in my mouth as I mashed the hell out of it and made a three-course nutritious meal for my greedy old self. I wanted to do all the economical butchery - and buggery - I could on the bastard and make him suffer for all the sleepless nights - and days - he'd put me through. How could someone that great looking be unaware of all the attention I was paying him. I found out later that he was short-sighted and had absolutely no idea of the turbulence the hot weather and the sight of him were causing in me. I also found out that he was Spanish and his name was Ferran. And, of course, better late than never, I discovered that he was only too happy to let me suck his delicious dick and do all the other things I'd dreamed about. Funny how we often self convince ourselves that something is impossible when all the time the other guy is just as hot to trot. I didn't have problems with his parents either. They just thought we were having conversation lessons. In Spanish, and other Latin languages, they use the same word for 'language' and 'tongue' but I suppose you know that already. Anyway, you can bet your bottom dollar we had a great time exchanging tongues.

So let me tell you about the day we 'accidentally' met in the market. I watched him from behind my half-closed shutters as he prepared to go out. Seeing him getting dressed was almost as exciting as seeing him constantly undressed. I kept thinking about all that sausage meat being "stuffed into a tubular casing made from carefully cleansed and turned inside-out intestines in order to produce the characteristic cylindrical shape." Also, the sizzle the sausage makes when it hits the hot pan. It was a real sizzler outside and if it hadn't been for the air conditioning, I'm sure I would have melted in the heat. In fact, nothing but the thought of finally meeting Ferran would have gotten me even halfway through the door. But I was sick of doing things by halves and wanted to see the whole McCoy. I wanted to grab the Spanish bull by the horns. By now I knew he was Spanish because I'd heard him speaking on his mobile phone. I whizzed down the seven floors in the lift, followed him to the supermarket, saw he was having difficulty speaking English and kind of intervened and broke the ice on that sizzling Saturday morning. Introduced myself and seduced him in one fell swoop.

It had taken me nearly three weeks to get this far but I'm happy to say that the rest of the distance between us was covered really fast and, fortunately for this story, he'd just crossed the dividing line between 'taboo and to do' or it wouldn't have been posted. Though why our story subjects still have to be that mandatory eighteen for us to jerk off about them I don't know. Nowadays, most of those twinks know which side they want their butt buttered by the time they're thirteen. After all, when push comes to shove, age is just a number. And there was soon a whole lot of pushing and shoving going on. After we'd bought a few beers and finger food and taken our purchases home with us that is. My place of course. I didn't want his parents bursting in on us although he assured me there was little danger of that as they both worked in the Spanish embassy and came back late. But I'm sure you don't give a shit about that. Just want to hear about his 'tubular casing' and learn how much meat was stuffed inside. You won't be disappointed. I certainly wasn't. His dick was indeed plump as a sausage and became even more swollen in my hand as I pushed his uncut foreskin back and exposed the mushroom head. We'd had a few beers by then and as I knelt in front of him his dick came to meet my mouth like a charmed snake rising drunkenly from its basket.

"Do you like to fuck or be fucked?" he asked in English as he investigated my hot asshole. Of course, there was no need for me to answer. I opened like a horny rose to the warmth of his touch. I shuddered with pleasure and sank wantonly down on his penetrating fingers. His tongue felt like it was an extension to the tip of his dick. We fought like stags for dominance. Our mouths and dicks morphed and I found myself feeding off him with the gnawing hunger that follows a long period of abstinence. I slipped my thirsty dick into the dry well of his butt cheeks and knew, there and then, that he'd never been fucked before. I wanted to be the first and tried to work my way in there but he was tight as a kettle drum. I jerked him off a little and moistened his ass with some of his own pre-cum. He moaned and said something in Spanish I chose not to understand. Instinctively I ran one of my cum-covered fingers over his lower lip and shivered deliciously as he licked it clean. I let him suck on my fingers and then lubricated them again and inserted them in his ass. Then I alternated hands and fingers until I was finger fucking him at both ends. Man, it was wild. There was almost no need of lube. He got me so excited I nearly went bareback but good sense prevailed and together we managed to get the condom on. Actually, he did most of the work. He was pretty deft too. It didn't take him long to suck my dick into his ass either although he didn't like the feel of the rubber and slipped it off. I tell you man the sound of that plop and slurp was the best turn on I've had in years. "Can I fuck you in front of the mirror?" I spoke. Not that I needed permission. I knew he was ready for anything I could hand out to him, or dig into him. I could see his firm pecs, his hard nipples, his fleshy tongue lolling out of his mouth as I fucked him. That was another turn on. As was the stream of obscene Spanish that came out of his mouth as I worked my way further and further into his butt. I had him sliding, skating, slithering and screaming all over that bathroom mirror as I humped him to a climax. He let out one last grieving moan of supreme butt-fucking satisfaction and covered that mirror with his cum. That was another turn on of course and I added my own contribution too.

Soon it was full of our steaming love juice. I came like a geyser inside and outside of him, hot streams of cum oozing from me. Strange, I couldn't help thinking to myself as I looked at the mess we'd made of that mirror, how the red-hot ardour between lovers can only be cooled by white-hot love juice. We showered and then lay down on my bed. This gave me a chance to gaze at him at close quarters instead of from terrace to terrace. I loved the soft hairiness all around his genitals and the tops of his legs and the thickness of his thighs. My mind raced back twenty-five years when my mother used to tell me bedtime stories and read me nursery rhymes. One that stuck in my head was "Ride a Cockhorse to Banbury Cross." Later I was to find out why. I'd been fucked many times before but never experienced anything quite like the effect Ferran's dick had on me. I knew I could travel the whole wide world over and never find one that fitted me as well as his did. Or one that had such an effect on me. Even when I'd smoked pot for the first time or popped my poppers with amyl. It was complete body release. If you've been there, you'll know what I mean. It's impossible to describe. As he shunted his way in and out of me, my body gave off steam and my bones turned to vapour. I was one with the elements. And we both knew it. That's the greatest feeling. And of course, a great source of satisfaction to a horny Spanish stud who only yesterday was sixteen going on seventeen and came over to England, and into my ass, when he was eighteen.

He's been here nearly ten months now and speaks good English too. Although there's an unspoken intimacy between us that doesn't need words. A complete trust. When we make love it's like being suspended together out of time and space. Even before that sizzling Saturday had simmered to a staggering stop, I realized I was falling in love with him. I knew it was ridiculous. I mean I didn't even know the guy and this wave of love and tenderness was wrapping itself round me like a warm blanket. There was just no doubt about it. How could all that happen in one single mind-blowing day. Well, if you've ever experienced it then you'll know that when it happens, it happens without warning. There's no (nursery) rhyme or reason or time element about it. Although it might have a whole lot to do with the quality and the seasoning of sausages. Of course, there's over seven years difference in our ages and that's supposed to be a dangerous number. Still, we got past the seven-month stage and no 'itch' has developed for anyone else yet.

Every time he fucks me, I still remember that aphrodisiacal smell of barbecued sausage wafting through the air on that first night and when he rides me hard and strong with those thick thighs of his I stop looking for any macho identity of my own and just enjoy bending to the iron will of his dick. His butt thrusts invariably make me forget all about tomorrow or how long it's going to last and as he fucks me into next week and hopefully into next month, my ass joyfully accommodates the gorgeous guy that only last summer was just a shadow on a bathroom window. Often in sight but always out of reach. And I no longer have to read everything my Wikipedia can tell me about sausages. I've got the biggest lump of Spanish baloney on the block!