Sonntag, 24. Januar 2016

A satisfactory encounter

The man was enjoying his afternoon walk. An ordinary looking man,
maybe sixty years old, walking in the woods only half a mile from his
home. As he walked, his thoughts turned to his past life, and it's many
pleasures.

    He had retired early from his well-paid post. Well, strictly, he
had been cleared out when the firm had been taken over. The settlement
package had been very generous, and he found that by living in a small flat
in this run-down area he could survive easily; indeed, could live quite
comfortably.

    He had never married. Women held no interest for him. His sexual
preference had always been for his own kind. Even as a young boy, before
sex became part of his life, he had found the company of men preferable to
that of women. In adolescence he soon discovered the pleasures of sex with
other boys, and then with older men. But his greatest delight was in
adolescents of the age he had been at his first initiation. Each time he
found another boy to give him that sweet pleasure, it was like reliving
those wonderful days over again.

    While he was working there were always office lads, or messenger
boys, who would oblige for a consideration. He never felt qualms at
offering them money, or gifts. And then there were the holidays. For a
trivial amount in Pesetas, or Lire, or Drachmae, one could so easily obtain
the services of a smooth-cheeked lad. He had been lucky, too. He had once
been robbed, in Italy, in the early days, and ever since then had gone out
with only a small amount of money on him -- just enough to pay for what he
wanted.

    He'd had one frightening experience in a small Italian seaside
resort. He had gone down to the beach, looking for sex. He had spotted a
charming looking lad of maybe twelve -- they mature younger in the
Mediterranean countries -- and made one of his usual approaches. The lad
was alone, always a good sign, and he went up him.

    "Scusi, signorino. Quest' indirizzio?"
    The lad looked up, and the man opened his wallet with an address
written on a scrap of card. Sticking up out of the wallet was a thousand
Lire note. The lad got the message at once, and smiled.
    "Ti piace venere - Do you want sex?"
    "Mi piace molto -- I want it very much!"
    "Andiamo -- Shall we go?"

    The boy led the way to a secluded part of the beach, casually
dropped his thin shorts, and bent unconcernedly over a rock. The man
dropped his own shorts, and entered the boy easily. No beginner, this one!
He had just got into a steady rhythm when two Carabinieri appeared from
nowhere, and grabbed him, pulling him off the boy. They were both made to
pull up their shorts, and led to a waiting patrol car. The man had visions
of being thrown in to some dirty Italian jail, waiting a year for trial,
and then a long sentence.

    They were bundled into the back of the car, and the older man, grey
haired and stout, leant across and whispered into the ear of his handsome
young partner. His partner nodded, and drove off, not into the town centre,
where the Station was, but up into the hills behind the town.

    The car drew up beside a small Olive grove, and they were made to
get out. The older man said something to the boy, and he nodded, and
dropped his shorts again and lay face down on the soft grass, with his
pretty little bottom raised provocatively.. The man unfastened his gun
belt, and dropped his pants, revealing a fine erection. He said something
to his partner, who went and got a small flask from the car. The man
anointed the lad's hole -- it was oil, obviously - and the lad turned his
head.

    "Grazie signore!"

    The old fellow smiled down at him, and then knelt and entered him
with practised ease, as the young policeman and the Englishman watched.
    The young man then dropped his own trousers, revealing an
absolutely massive organ. He gestured to the Englishman to kneel, and
thrust the huge thing at his mouth. The man thought to himself 'this is the
sort of punishment I can accept', and sucked strongly on as much as he
could get in his mouth. He was skilled, and delighted his captor with the
flickering of his tongue round the great bulbous end, while he fondled and
gently squeezed the capacious ball bag below. It crossed his mind that the
lad would never have coped with this monster!

    Then, before he reached his climax, the carabiniere withdrew. The
man thought that his moment of truth had arrived, and that this giant penis
was to be thrust into his own back passage! The young man had other
ideas. He turned away, bent forward, presenting his own firm smooth
buttocks.

    "Incularmi, Inglese. Incularmi! -- Fuck me, Englishman, Fuck me!"
    The Englishman obliged, and entered the ready hole easily. No need
for oil. He fucked away strongly, thinking that if it wasn't as good as a
young boy, it was a darn sight better than nothing. As he thrust and
thrust, his hands held the wonder weapon and squeezed it in time with his
plunging cock. He knew he was doing the right thing when the young
policeman cried out.

    "Bellisimo, Signore, Bellissimo! Vengo!"

Beautiful, mister, Beautiful. I'm cumming!
Nothing ever excited the Englishman so much as the other person
climaxing, and his own semen spurted into the willing hole just as powerful
jets from the policeman's great gonads shot out onto the grass. He
withdrew, and the two of them sat back on the grass. The older man had
finished too; in fact he and the lad had tidied themselves up, and had
watched the end of the performance with interest.

    "Va bene, Carlo? -- Did it go well?"
    "Benissimo, Roberto. E tu? -- Very well. And you?"
    "Anche benissimo." He patted the lad's behind, and ruffled his
curly head. "Andiamo."

    They all piled into the car, and went back to town. The two
carabineri let them both out in the main square, with smiles. The
Englishman gave the young policeman's hand a squeeze.

    "Grazie, Signore"
    The car drove off, and the man turned to the boy and handed him the
1000 Lire note.
    "Domani? -- Tomorrow?"
    "Si, signore." He rubbed his finger and thumb together in the old
gesture. "E un' altra mille Lire?"
    "Si. Domani!"

    It had been a good holiday after that. Rodolfo, as the boy was
called, earned himself more Lire, and also learnt from the man how to be
more co-operative and active in his performance. And the man was delighted
to find himself under arrest a couple of more times by his carabinieri
friends!

    As he reminisced inwardly, he found his cock responding pleasantly,
and wondered if he should stop for a little self-relief. Then he heard a
high pitched cry.

    "Bugger", he thought. "Kids. Better wait until I get home."
    The cry again, and it sounded unlike play. Maybe someone was being
attacked. He was no hero, but maybe if he made a lot of noise the attackers
would run off. He ran towards the sound, and soon saw what the trouble
was. A boy who looked about fourteen was up a tree, and was shouting for
help.

    "What's the matter, lad?"
    "My foot's stuck. I can't get down. I've been shouting for ages!"

The boy's foot was wedged in a fork of the tree, and he was hanging
onto a branch, looking all in. The man thought of going for help, but
realised that the boy's position was unsafe. If he let go of the branch --
and he looked as though he might, any minute -- he would be swung back
against the tree, and he might twist or even break his ankle. The man asked
how he got up.

    "The other side of the tree. It's easy that way."

He went round the tree, and sure enough, there were good hand
holds. He climbed up above the boy and assessed the situation. He smiled
sadly to himself. The kid had no brains at all. He only needed to pull his
foot out of his shoe to get free. Still, this was no time to tell him
that. He was distressed enough, without being made to feel stupid. The man
pushed his weight against the offending fork, and the boy got his foot
free, and dropped to the ground. He lay there in a heap, shivering from
shock.

    The man climbed down to him. The boy lay there, trembling, and the
man picked him up and took him across to a bigger tree, and sat back
against it, cradling the frightened lad in his arms. He took off his thick
tweed jacket, and draped it over the boy's front the wrong way round, and
held the boy close.

    "Just sit here a while, lad, and let yourself calm down a bit. I'm
sure you'll be OK after a little rest."

The boy leaned back against him, and he could feel the warmth of
the slim young body through the thin shirt. He stroked the boy's chest, and
felt the boy relax against him. After a while the boy shifted his position,
snuggling closer, and now the lad's back was under the man's hand. He
stroked rhythmically, up and down the length of the young slender back. The
boy's shirt had ridden up out of his trousers, and the man's hand felt the
warm bare flesh, just above the waistline. He gave an appreciative murmur.

    "That feels good, mister."

The man's erection had returned, and he now caressed the smooth
back under the shirt. He tried to slip his hand beneath the trouser belt,
but it was too tight, so he contented himself with stroking down over the
thin school trousers, feeling the softness of the young buttocks. The boy
turned his head up and smiled.

    "These trousers are too tight, mister. I'll loosen them a bit, if
you don't mind."

Saying that, he unclipped the fastener at the belt, and eased the
zip down a little. Now the man's hand could slide down easily inside, over
the soft flesh. If the man had any doubts, they were soon allayed by the
way the lad arched his back to allow the wandering hand to go right down.

    "Do the front again, mister. I liked that."

He turned, and lay back in the man's arms. The jacket had been tossed aside, and the man unfastened the shirt buttons, and fondled the small pink nipples for a while, before
moving steadily down to the boy's lower abdomen. The zip opened further,
and a small patch of light pubic hair was revealed, and the end of the
boy's penis, now fully erect . No doubt now what was wanted!

The man took the boy's four inches in his hand and fondled it for a
while. His own erection was now almost bursting his trousers, and he moved
the boy aside. The boy understood, and reached down a hand and deftly
unfastened the man's flies and felt inside the underpants, bringing the
sturdy seven inches into view.

    "I reckon I owe you one, mister", said the lad, and he bent his
head over and took the end between his lips. The man lay back, enjoying the
warmth of the young mouth. But he was hoping for even more.

    "Let me do you for a bit, lad."
    "Sure, mister. Let's do it properly, like with our Jack."
    With that, the lad kicked off his trainers, and slipped his
trousers right off.
    "Jack likes it like this, so that he can do just what he likes with
me."
   
He lay on his back on the grass, with his legs open, and the man
went down on him, sucking the slender tool with the expertise of many
years. As he sucked and licked, he eased his thumb towards the boy's anus,
and then gently in: no trouble at all. He knew now just what it was that
'our Jack' liked! He looked at the boy, who smilingly nodded his
acceptance.

    He adjusted his position, and then slid quite easily into the
waiting orifice. He was certainly not the first to use this entrance! In
only half a dozen easy strokes he was deep in, and started to fuck. He
carried on for quite a time, maybe five minutes, until the boy said
"Faster, mister. A bit faster. I'm going to cum soon.

So was he!. He increased speed, and strength, and plunged deep into
the moist hot welcoming hole. He saw the first splash of cum shoot out of
the lad, and it had it's usual effect. His own juices shot into the lad (as
good a completion as he'd had since that kid at the south coast resort last
summer) and the boy's own spunk splashed up onto both of them.
    He withdrew then, but couldn't resist taking the boy into his mouth
again to suck out the last remaining juices.

    "Feeling better now?" he asked the boy.
    "Much better. That was a great fuck, mister. You went on a long
time. Our Jack is finished in half a minute!"
    "We older men have learnt how to make it last, lad. We don't get it
as easily as you young ones; but we make up for it when we do!"
    They tidied themselves up, and he walked with the boy to the edge
of the woods.
    "You'd better leave me here, mister. If my mates see me come out of
the woods with an old man they'll think the worst", he said, grinning.
    "Oh dear, that would never do, would it, my young friend?"
    The boy turned to go, and then turned back. "Thanks for getting me
out of that tree. And for the other. By the way, how old are you, mister.
    The man told him.
    "Yikes! Older than my granddad!"
    "Maybe you should find out what granddad has to offer!"
    "Maybe I will. See you around."
But the man never met the boy again.
        'Still', he thought, 'a most satisfactory encounter'.

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