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By *uddysuck OP Man
9 weeks ago
County & a bit beyond! |
They say travel broadens the mind and my journey certainly opened my eyes! At the time I was a callow young lad, tired of the dull every day, and wanted a little adventure in my life. I jacked in my 8 to 4 boring, repetitive, factory job in the local assembly plant and, with my meagre savings in my rucksack headed for Rosslare and the world!
The prospect of inter-railing across Europe was enough for now. The beauty of Paris was staggering, feasts for the eyes at every corner...and that's just the buildings! And although away from the stultifyting conservatism of '80's rural Ireland I could only look with barely concealed lust at the fine, svelte young men who flaunted the boulevards of the city and dream of the assignations to come.
City after city opened up their built treasures to me but the deeper carnal ones remained a chimera only to be imagined and hoped for in the future. The Mediterranean beckoned and a dip in it's refreshing waters away from the oppressive August heat was an immediate goal for now. The evening train from Montpellier was jam packed with hot, heaving sweaty bodies after a hard days work heading home. On the journey glimpses of the sea and the thought of a dip kept my lid from exploding. As it moved along the coast, the train emptied somewhat leaving a few seats. I heaved myself on to one as it was still a fair journey to my destination of Sête. No sooner was I sitting down than he started to throw his chat of broken, halting English at me. My responses in pidgid French were equally comic but we each understood the other sufficiently. He was ten years older than me at about 30, impeccably dressed as for the office with a cool cream linen polo shirt and matching coloured chinos. The espadrilles appeared bohemian and a touch incongruous but in the heat what the heck! Like many French men he had near black hair and deep dark chocolate eyes with long lashes and perfect skin. His designer stubble gave him an elegant, suave, casual look and the dark strands of curled chest hair that poked out from the three open buttons of his shirt spoke of deeper mysteries. It transpired that he was also alighting at Sête.
We chatted easily, as we moved along the platform to the street. As luck would have it the drinks dispenser in the train station was broken and I could feel my tongue wooden and thick with thirst. I was unsure that my lips were dry from actual thirst or just watching this fine, sexy man sashay his way along. I found it hard to keep my eyes off him and his handsome physique. It so happened that the Augerge de Jeunesse, the hostel I was booked into, was 2km out of town down the same street he had to travel. The warm evening breeze was touselling his dark curly hair whilst I was getting hotter and hotter under my collar! When he offered me a drink of water "Cum yep to mye apartammant" I could hardly resist as I felt I might expire on the spot or ignite in a ball of flame if I didn't go. Such was my predicament in the heat, juxtaposed with his cool body scented with a delicate aftershave. Lugging my heavy rucksack up the narrow curved carpeted, wooden stairs a full four flights, did little to help but a long draught of ice cold water from the fridge was enough to revive me within minutes. He repaired to the bedroom and returned barefoot in a singlet and skimpy tight cycling shorts. It was hard to keep my eyes off his delectable body, great dark tufts falling out over the top of the singlet and when he lifted it a bit I saw the self same dark line disappear past his belly button to hiding discreetly under the waist band. His slim hairy legs were strong and muscled. I felt sure he had the physique of a cyclist. The noisy smack of the lips was in gratitude for the life giving properties of the water but also as a silent homage to this foreign Adonis who was beguiling me with his sexy body. Now well watered the attention of the hungry Paddy turned to food. It was late and I knew that few if any restaurants locally were open. He informed me, with disgust the way only a Frenchman can, that the only McDonalds was on the other side of town. He offered to rustle something up which I willingly accepted. With his back turned I could marvel at his perfect lithe body, broad strong shapely shoulders with the V shape of his chest sloping down to his slim waist, two plum tomatoes for buttocks running down to his long powerful legs. There was an elegant sufficiency of body hair, dark coloured, which showed off his virility to perfection. His frontal bulge was intriguing and my eyes were constantly drawn to it when I thought he wasn't looking. He laughed lightly and easily when he caught me in delicto flagrante and I blushed to point up my embarrassment. As he effortlessly cooked he drew out a bottle, from the amply supplied drinks cabinet, as an aperitif and offered me one. A generous measure of pastis sent my head spinning. Never before had I tasted such an exotic elixir and on an empty stomach it quickly had its effects. The slight dizziness and lightening of tongue helping me to relax further. With the drinks cabinet wide open, the other delights, the limoncello and the amaretto flowed as the tasting session followed while he cooked.
The meal of pasta and herbs, while simple, was delicious for this weary traveller washed down as it was by a shared bottle of iced Chablis.
Then the digestif bottles were uncorked. First Calvados and Cointreau, and those are the ones starting with the letter C. The more I drank the more sozzled I became and I quickly realised that there was no way I might descend those bare stairs and make it to the hostel upright that night. He realised it too and offered me the couch to sleep on.
Had he led me to the bedroom there and then I would meekly have followed because by that stage I was undressing him with my eyes and each time my tongue circled the emptying glass, in my minds eye, it was round and round his body it travelled licking the beads of perspiration wherever they could be found! He laughed an artful laugh, looking suggestively over his shoulder, as he went to the bedroom and left the door ajar behind him.
The couch appeared lumpy and the springs poked through in a number of places. To top it there was no blanket but in the heat that didn't matter. I lay down for a few minutes but before long I was assailed by an urgent need to pee. I searched around for a bathroom but the only door was to the closet or the outside. En suite was a word I had heard of, there was surely none in our country farm house, and I guessed there must be one off the bedroom. Braving the unknown I approached the door and called his name but received no response baring a muffled sound. I concluded that he was still awake as there was low light coming from within the room. After a few more pee pangs it was either knock or use the kitchen sink. That was inconceivable to me as my upbringing forbade such a thing.
Plucking up my courage I pushed the door open and in my d*unken stupor stumbled inside. Jean Claude was spreadeagled on the bed with the finest erection in his right hand as he slowly worked it ! He was looking me straight in the face but I only had eyes for his manly beauty! As he looked over at me he licked his lips proactively but I was salivating and literally drooling from the mouth! The urgency that I needed to piss fast, as I was holding my crotch, was evident to him and without talking his eyes off me watching his cock he nodded to the opposite door.
When it came the relief was indescribable and while calmness returned through the d*unken fog I couldn't take the scene away from my eyes, it was etched in my memory. I probably shook my flaccid friend just a bit too long as I felt him stiffen and fill in my hand, my mind was full of bold, improper thoughts and the drink, late hour and sense of freedom of being alone with a handsome, endowed, sexy foreigner had it racing.
My hesitation at the bathroom door was becoming awkward and when I stepped back into the room I could see he was still at it, his beautiful manhood glistening with precum. One look from him and I was at the bedside. This was the first erect cock that I had ever seen in the flesh and his eyes, beckoning me downwards,
were imploring me to explore it for him.
The dark hair line ran round the belly button and in a forest to his pubes. Like a snow capped Mount Fuji his lovely cock towered up perhaps 7ins out of this thicket and the full veins were strong and pronounced. A flick of his hand and the foreskin rolled back to reveal a shiny red throbbing bulb. His balls were hidden in the matt of man hair at the top of his legs. The sweet smell of precum filled the air mingling with his man scent and the lingering scent of his sweet aftershave mingled with all his pheromones. He was the epitome of manliness in search of a purpose! Never before had I touched a mans penis, although, in the past, I filled nights and many wet dreams doing so. Resolved not to miss the opportunity I reached in and grabbed it purposefully, manfully.
All of a sudden...... |
