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Pacific Tales

I had been living in the tropics for a while, when we met up with a group of folk at a tourist village in the mountains when we were away on a weekend trip.

One of them was a teenager named Charlie, and he hung around me all day, which was rather nice as he was deep brown, slim and good looking. He asked me for my address, which I gave to him, and then I forgot all about it.

Some months later, a letter appeared in my office mail box addressed to 'Dear Dad' and with a way out of town postmark. It was from Charlie, asking me if he could come down and stay for a week during the next vacation. I shuddered to think of anyone coming into town on what passes for a 'bus'. These are usually open trucks with a wooden bench running down the middle and if it looks like rain, a canvas cover goes over the top. Eight hours or more on one of these buses would certainly numb the posterior.

Well, I agreed to Charlie coming down, sent him a brief note telling him how to find me, and a few weeks later, the caretaker came to get me, and said there was 'one plenty dirty fella' outside. Poor Charlie looked like a black and white minstrel, and he was caked in dust and his fuzzy mop of hair looked like it had been sprayed with red dirt, which I suppose it had been.

It was almost quitting time, so I drove up the road to my house and pointed Charlie in the direction of the shower. The warmish water was quite a revelation to him, after years of fresh mountain water and after about half an hour, I ordered him to move himself out. He emerged much the cleaner, and looking taller than I last remembered him from our visit some months back, and a lot more muscle. I showed him his room and started to cook a meal for the two of us. We had the house to ourselves, and we just relaxed on the cool concrete floor and watched TV via satellite. This was also a rarity for Charlie, as he hardly ever saw TV, as there's no electricity in most villages and there's only a local station if you're in the city. I also enjoyed him sitting between my legs, me in a chair and Charlie on the floor.

The overseas satellite channels were much raunchier after 10pm, and these held Charlie's interest quite a bit. I asked him how old he was, but he wasn't sure, and this in itself was not unusual, as birth certificates ceased being issued years before, once they had rid themselves of their colonial 'masters'. I guessed his age as 17+, judging by height, muscles and some chest and arm hair.

We settled down to a routine of me working and Charlie spending the days in town visiting distant relatives. That he stayed with a white guy in the evenings was not considered unusual, as this was quite common, and in colonial days, many young men were reared by benevolent foster fathers. The lads often grew up to be fine family men and were not the least worried about gay or near-gay experiences in their teens and early twenties. This is partly cultural, as man-to-man sex is not frowned on as much as getting a girl pregnant.

It must have been mid-week when I was just home from work and having a welcome shower and washing off the day's sweat, when I heard Charlie coming into the bathroom/toilet. I unconsciously thought that he was taking a long time to close the door after he'd flushed the toilet, but didn't hear the door shut. I heard the clink of a belt buckle and then a zip going down and he suddenly appeared in the shower cubicle - stark naked and half erect. He'd decided to join me for a wash. Now I don't push myself onto younger guys, but I wasn't going to go all coy and throw him out.

He pushed aside the shower curtain and moved into the cubicle, and his hardening brown cock was a delight to see. Not too thick, uncut, and a good six inches or thereabouts. He had a good bush of thick, jet-black wiry hair and a small trail of hair heading up towards his navel. He was a good looking guy, and even more so totally naked. So I offered to scrub his back, and he did the same to me. While we were manoeuvring around in the shower cubicle, I used my soaped up hand to wash his now-erect cock, and to say that he was enthusiastic, was an understatement. He went rigid, and then pushed his ass cheeks into my now erect cock, and indicated that I shouldn't stop by wiggling his rear enthusiastically.

I kept up the intense washing while Charlie kept wriggling his rear end around my cockhead, and he started moaning and pushing harder . My hand continued to soap his cock, and I could feel his balls drawing up tight. In a very short time, Charlie went rigid and then shot quite a wad onto the wall, while I could feel his pucker twitching on my cockhead.

We had a nice meal and after some TV, I wished Charlie 'goodnight', and I headed into my bedroom, where to my interest, Charlie followed me, switching off the lights as he went. He just climbed into the double bed as if he'd always slept there. No doubt he felt that introductions were no longer necessary. I didn't object, as the thought of someone nice and soft and maybe hard in parts appealed to me. Any thoughts of reading before the bed light was out were dashed, when Charlie starting feeling me up and had me erect in no time. I returned the favour, but he was already well and truly hard.

He was a wonderful kisser, and with his full soft lips, I was happy to stay glued to him all night, but he had other ideas. I could feel his very hard cock grinding into my hip bone, and Charlie reached over for the KY, slapped some in his hand and lubed up both of us. He was never one to waste words or mess around. He grabbed hold of my lubed cock and I did the same to him; we sucked on each other's lips as our hands slid up and down the well-lubed cocks and in next to no time, we had shot ropes of cum onto our chests, and were once again in need of a shower.

Charlie stayed a week before heading back into the mountains, but we had lots of repeats of our first night of fun. He was back again for the next vacation and I think he had learned some new lessons from his room-mates at college, as we had the usual super-wash in the shower, a lovely kissing session and feeling each other, but what we did next does not belong on these pages....


Posted on: 2007-11-28 00:00:00 | Author: