The Greek Lads (part 3)


I think we fell asleep for a while. I was certainly dozing when I felt him move under me. I was in a half awake, half asleep in a nowhere place with a montage of images drifting through my mind. I could see the other lads at the café, sitting with their ice-coffees, sipping through straws and watching me from under dark eyebrows. In dreams I could stop in front of them, be invisible and stare at their tightly packed jeans. I could take my time to admire their smooth, young faces and their tight fitting tee shirts that showed off their broad chests. In sleep I could imagine them also following me home as my lad had done. See them walk into the room where we now lay. I could hear them murmur in their strange language and understand what they were saying. That they approved and were jealous of the younger friend who had found me first, the one who had dared the risk, shadowed me home, dropped to his knees in front of me and then begged me to take him to my bed.
            And I could be part of everything that was happening, be the centre of it as it happened in real time.
            The other lads gather at my feet and start to stroke my legs. They comment on their strength, marvelling at how another guy feels. I know that they have all wanted to try this, have all had fantasies about sex with another man. And I know that, until now, they have not had the courage to try it. Not for all their bravado and their machismo.

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   To talk among themselves of sex with their girlfriends is fine, even if the talk is only fantasy too, but to talk of sex with a man, to admit that they want to try it; that takes real courage. And somehow in the balmy heat of the late evening they are finding that courage. And they have found us. Lying in each other’s arms, our sweat still drying, our cocks still sticky from the pleasures we have just given ourselves.
            And in my semi-dreaming I can hear the rustle of clothes as they strip, this group of five around the bed. One kneels beside my young friend, feeling the smooth arse cheeks while undoing his own tight jeans. And another crouches beside my head, toying his fingers through my hair, planting tiny kisses on my face, tentatively so as not to wake me. But I am awake.
Beside the bed the tallest, the broadest, peels off his shirt and runs his palms slowly down his ribbed chest towards the top of his trousers. His long fingers slide inside and he grabs the growing bulge that waits within. He has a proud, classic face. His eyes are dark and his lips moist. He thinks I am not watching as he cocks his head at another lad. This one is smaller, tightly built and strong. He stands back a pace not daring to come forward until his mate tells him it is o.

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  k. And now he is kneeling and the tall guy is unbuttoning his fly. A flash of white and the massive cock inside pushes his shorts through. His cock is bent painfully down and forces its way out like the back of a whale breaking the surface of the ocean. Powerful and beautiful. The smaller lad looks up from his kneeling position and his eyes do the begging for him. Carefully, as this has never been done before, he raises a hand and touches the growing cock, lays his hand flat on it as if he is measuring the length. And the taller one pulls his shorts down at the front so that his great tool is released. It hangs long and dark over the waist band, the head already wet. He takes it in his fist and his large hand covers only the base. The rest he places against the lips of his subservient friend who waits for permission to feed. And then, oh so very slowly, the great length is pushed gently in between the youthful lips. It probes them before parting them and filling the eager mouth with a new experience.
Beside me my young friend is moaning again. The same sounds as he made when I explored his arse with my tongue only a short while ago.

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   I turn my peaceful gaze to him and he is smiling back at me. His face glows with delighted confusion and he reaches out his hand to touch me.
‘Are you awake?’
‘I don’t know. ’
‘My friend, are you awake?’
Yes I am awake.
I was awake and back into real time. No one else in the room but us. Just me and him. But he was enough.
I flattened his dark hair with my hand as he lay on his front. He had somehow slipped out from under me as I dozed and now delighted me with the sight of his young body stretched beside me. It was like he was saving the best for last. I had still not seen or tasted his cock. He had feasted on mine, sucked me dry and in return I had made him come as I showed him the ecstasy my tongue could bring to his virgin arse. We had rested but I was still not finished. He had said that we had all night.

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   It was dark outside by then. I could hear a church bell toll mournfully in the distance and feel only the slightest breeze nudging in through the open window. Outside a street lamp tried to light the blackened alleyway and shed only the slightest, orange glow, into our room.
I shifted myself. Slid one leg over him and pushed myself up so that I sat across his thighs. My flaccid cock fell onto the small rounds of his backside with a thump and rested there as I looked down onto his strong back. Leaning forward I kissed the back of his neck and his hands immediately made fists, screwing up the sheets as he pulled them in towards himself and sighed. I took his shoulders in my hands and massaged them slowly, pressing my thumbs into the back of his neck and making small circles. And then I slipped my arms under him, hugging him as I had before, my mouth beside the soft lobes of his ears.
‘Turn over,’ I whispered.
He moved without hesitation, but slowly. As I supported myself on my hands and feet, lifting myself up from him as if I were performing a push up to allow him room, he twisted first his chest and then his legs until finally I was staring down into the depths of his eyes. I stayed above him, suspended, as I looked at him. He blinked, his long eyelashes barely touching together in slow motion, and his lips drew into a coy smile. He reached up for me and placed his hands on my shoulders, I felt him brush the hair there, feeling it as if he did not believe it was real.

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   And then I lowered myself down again slowly, so that my cock was the first thing to touch him.
I felt the downy softness of his short pubic hair brush against the end of my penis, felt his warm, limp shaft against my heavy balls as they flattened over it, enveloping it in their folds and holding it there, safe. My stomach touched against the firmness of his, my chest met the hardness of his and our nipples met sending the fizz of a static charge through my body. The tips of our noses touched and our lips fell silently together.
So very gently he kissed me back, opening his mouth to allow our tongues to meet and play. His eyes were open. We watched each other as we kissed, neither wanting to be the first to break the look of disbelief that held us together. His hands explored wherever they could reach on my back, as low as he could find he pressed them into me, forcing me closer to him. I took his head in my large, strong grip and tilted it, taking his lips away from mine and giving me access to his neck. His skin was soft, salty from the sweat and hot from the balmy night. I dug my tongue into him, below his chin, forcing his head back further and he gasped at the strength. But it was a calm strength, a peaceful strength, using only enough force to let him know that it was I who held the power over him. I had captured him with my experience. It was all that had been needed.  
I started to slide lower, all the time pressing my mouth to parts of his body that no one had kissed before.

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   His shoulders, beneath his arms where the hair was soft and across the top of his chest where his flesh was hard. His nipples were small and delicate, sensitive to my probing and, when I gave just the slightest of nibbles there he arched his back and clung to me tighter. But I had been there before and I wanted to move to unexplored places. I could feel only a hint of puppy fat on his stomach as I licked the last traces of his cum from it. He worked hard, he was toned, but yet there was something about him that suggested he was less than his nineteen years.
His hands could reach no further than the top of my head now as I nuzzled in around his pubes. I could feel his cock had lengthened again, and now it pressed up against my chin as I bit into his flesh beside his short pubes. I could smell his musky boy smell, sweat and come, when I buried myself deep between his legs and his groin. He flinched, his back arched up again in response to my pressure and gave me more to press against. His ball sack was soft against my cheek now and his cock touched against my temple. It would soon be mine. I would soon have the prize I had hungered for since I first saw him, packet bulging in tight jeans, outside the café. My own cock was hanging, semi hard between my legs as I knelt. But it could wait. This moment was for him, not me.

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I lifted my head to look up his smooth body and into his brown eyes. His own head was raised from the pillow slightly so that he could see more clearly what I was doing. His mouth was open in bewilderment, his eyes wide in disbelief. How long had he dreamed of this, how long had he waited?
He did not have to wait longer, and neither did I. I dropped my head and gazed onto his cock for the first time. It lay flat against his body, the tip almost reaching to his belly button, his foreskin was pulled right back, revealing the pink head that glistened in anticipation. The shaft was even, smooth, no veins, just dark, brown flesh that now lay taught and waiting. Below it his balls lay in their hairless sack, not big, but perfectly proportioned to his length. And around all of this were the short, almost shaved hairs that I had felt before.
I lent forward, drawing in his sweet smell in a deep breath that numbed my pounding heart and calmed my excited breathing. My tongue touched the tip of his cock for the first time and I tasted his salty precum as I probed the slit so very gently. He twitched again and I heard him breathe in sharply. And then my tongue was tracing the rim of his cock head, just flicking it, teasing it, torturing the lad whose hands pressed on my head, trying to push me onto him. I kissed his shaft, felt the springy flesh that covered the solidness beneath, turned my head so that my mouth nibbled down it like it was corn cob until I reached the loose skin beneath. Here I played my lips over the small orbs that rested freely inside.


   I felt them roll around on my lips before I pushed in under them and they parted across the bridge of my nose.
And then I was working upwards again, pushing his balls to one side and licking hard at his cock as I went. I reached the top and pressed the tip against him as I forced my tongue around the rim once more. I could hear his head moving from side to side, could hear him try and grunt out words through his rapid, gasping breathing. His hands fell from my head and gripped at the sheets on either side of us and his body stiffened. I took his hips in my hands, bent my head forward and placed my lips around the tip of his cock.
He was wet from my kisses and he slipped in easily, all the way down until my face was buried in the lightness of his pubes and my stubble was brushing against his balls. He gasped a quick snatch of surprise and I pulled him up so that his backside was off the bed and let him thrust in as far as he would go. There was room for more, but he had no more to give. I drew back my head, letting his cock come all the way out until the head was between my lips again. I closed them a little, made my mouth tighter for him so that when he pushed again there was more friction. His smooth hard-on slid against the roof of my mouth as I went down again and this time I rolled him around with my tongue. I held him in there, sucked on him, dug my fingers into his small arse and pulled at his cheeks. His breathing spluttered as again he tried to reach further into me.
I let him out once more, slowly, still sucking, still manipulating his shaft with my mouth, until he was once again resting on the bed.

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   I made him wait.
‘Again, please,’ he begged and I knew then that this was the thing he had been waiting for since he first saw me. ‘Please, don’t stop. ’
Something told me that once he had come, once I had sucked his youthful juice from him, he would be spent. I knew that this was my chance to give us both the last of our pleasure. I kept the tip of his cock between my lips as I turned and climbed across his chest so that I was facing his feet.
    His cock was pulled away from his belly, it slid in harder against the roof of my mouth like this. I held his balls, wrapped my fist around the top of the sack and pulled them down. He was thrusting into my mouth now and was losing himself in the sensations I was allowing him. I felt his hands again, holding my waist, pulling at the hair around my arse that was now over his face. He pulled me down, his eager tongue went straight against my hole and he started eating at me, fast, hard, desperate. As I went down around his cock I pushed back, forcing my hairy crack further around his face, I rolled it around, let him savour the scent of older man as I feasted on his youthful flesh. His hands started to claw for my cock and found it solid, swollen and ready. He tried to wriggle under me, to get my heavy balls into his mouth but they were too big for him. He grabbed for them with his mouth, held my cock in his fist and started stroking it.

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       I buried my face into his balls, his cock pushing deeper into my hot throat. And like this we moved in a rhythm, in harmony. Me pushing back against his face with my hairy arse and him pushing against mine with his smooth cock.
    I could hear him gasping for breath as he bit and clawed at me, his hips thrusting uncontrollably as he pushed them up, pulled them down, and tried to fuck my face. And each time he did that I pushed my arse harder against his face making his grip on my cock tighten. I felt him struggle down the bed some more and then felt his mouth around the base of my cock. I lifted myself up with my feet so that he could see the monster he was pulling on. And all the time I worked his shaft, sucking his breath though it, sliding it in and out, up and down, fingering his balls, clawing at his arse, dragging him into me, pushing him out.
    Until his body stiffened, he cried out and my mouth filled with spurt after spurt of his innocent, lad cum. I kept it there, held it in my mouth as he tried to push in deeper, wanting to come again, wanting to carry on. But he was spent, his smooth cock started to turn limp and I let it slip from my mouth. His juice dribbled a little to my chin as I swung myself around and sat astride his chest. His smooth stomach felt slippery against my wet arse hole as I towered over him, my cock standing out solid and ready just like when he’d first seen it.
    He grabbed for it, put both hands around the shaft and pulled. Slowly up and down, his face screwed up in concentration and his eyes fixed on the swollen purple head.


       By balls banged against his chest as he beat on me as if his life depended on it. I tipped forward, my hands either side of his head, and felt the deep down tingling that told me he was going to get a face full of man juice.
    And he did. My cock erupted and shot a stream of thick hot cum that splattered onto his lips. He opened his mouth and caught the next load, kept his mouth open to catch the rest. Some landed on his cheek, some across his nose until, after five or six powerful spasms his face was dripping and my balls were empty.
    He let go of me and I sat back down on his hips. I could feel his flaccid cock lying helpless and exhausted beneath my buttocks. It dribbled the last if its juice into the hair in my crack as I stared down at him. He opened his mouth, showing me what he had collected there, and then swallowed. I did the same with what I had of his. As if we were sharing some sort of communion we drank together before we strained our bodies to kiss and share the last drops equally between us.
    As I said when I first sat down to write up this account, it is now dawn and he has just left. We fell asleep and there were no more dreams of the other Greek lads wandering into my apartment. I woke up during the night and found my new friend still lying beside me, naked, curled up against me with one had across my broad chest.

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       And a little while ago I woke again. He was sliding from the bed as if not to wake me.
    ‘Are you going?’ I said, and my whisper seemed loud in the silence of the darkest hour.
    ‘I must go to work. ’
    He knelt down beside the bed and placed his head on my chest. ‘Can I come back? Maybe tonight?’ His huge round eyes reflected the street lamp outside and were moist.
    ‘Sure,’ I said and stroked his hair. ‘If you want to. ’
    ‘I want to. ’ He sounded almost offended that I’d hinted otherwise. I knew he’d be back. ‘But…’
    There was bound to be a ‘but…’ I said nothing, just waited for disappointment.
    ‘But may I bring someone with me next time?’
    I will not count the hours. I will go about my holiday until this evening and wait to see what happens. If he returns, with or without a friend, I will be happy.

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       If I never see him again, I will still be happy because I will have the memory. “Etsi einai i zoi mou,” as they say in Greece. “Such is my life. ”
    But, if he does return, I will discover his name.
    Contact the author at www. bookpuppy. co. uk if YOU would like to suggest what happens next.



































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