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John the chef

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 09 Jul 1999 2 comments
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by Kirk A couple of things you should know about me: I'm 28 now, and I was 24 when this happened. I was on holiday, driving across Africa. My girlfriend was at home in England, and I guess that after four months away I was feeling pretty horny! It is not often that I meet a man I find attractive, but when I met John I was interested immediately. He wasn't the nicest guy in the world -in fact his self-assurance spilled into arrogance frequently � but visually he was stunning. I met him during the rainy season in Zimbabwe, and the humid atmosphere caused a pleasant tension between us. It was about six o'clock one morning when I found him. I had gone to Victoria Falls early, to avoid other people and enjoy them alone. Evidently he had the same idea and I so asked him to join me. John was a chef from New Zealand, though now from London, and, as I had, he had left behind a sweet girl to go to Africa. He was smallish, very slim and wore strange baggy trousers without shoes, giving him a nimble gait. His hair was long-about shoulder length-bleached a little, and he always had stubble on an otherwise perfect chin. He had the presence of an actor on stage and I was intrigued. We walked, enjoying the cool of the early morning, and when we got to the part of the falls which is shrouded in dense mist, and makes you as wet as a shower would, he pulled off his shirt. From the moment I laid eyes on his skin, I couldn't stop looking at him. We spent the next few days going here and there, arranging to meet at least once a day. We were both travelling in the same direction and had made plans for me to give him a lift when I left for South Africa. At Beitbridge, in the south of Zimbabwe, we were held up before crossing the border. We stopped the night in the town that exists only to service the border post and its traffic. We had had a long day travelling through the country and both of us were glad that we had no time to cross that evening - it meant we could rest, enjoy a drink, and need drive no further. The hotel in which we stayed was a quiet place, with tall walls around its small grounds. The night was incredibly hot and the humidity bore down with an unrelenting pressure. The atmosphere was charged - a good storm was building. After supper - fillet steaks and roasted potatoes - and a couple of beers, we sat and talked and smoked. John suggested a swim and we went to our room. It was a simple & clean chalet, nothing interesting, and it had three small beds. The walls were painted a deep sky blue colour. It was a prefab kind of building and the heat was excruciating in there. I went to splash myself in the bathroom and I heard John shout that he was going to the pool. When I finished I grabbed a towel and stripped to my underwear. I didn't have swimming trunks. The pool, about 20 feet square or so, was just outside our room set in pretty gardens. When I went out, he was already languishing in the water. "Come on in," he shouted, "it's so cool. It's lovely." His hair was wet and he looked instantly refreshed. I jumped in too, and the touch of the cool water tingled and shocked me. It was fantastic, after such a hot day, to be lounging in the pool, talking and swimming around. At one point, John went to get his cigarettes, and it was when he got out that I saw his whole form. He heaved on his arms onto the side, and launched himself out of the pool. He grabbed a towel to dry his face, and just for a second, as he stood there with his back to me, I saw his whole perfect body from head to toe. He turned round and dropped the towel all at once, and I saw the most amazing thing. "I'll get my cigarettes," he said, but I wasn't listening. I was looking, no, staring, at his form. His hair was dripping, the water trickled down his shoulders and his chest. His stomach was flat, and it ran into very small swimming trunks, a little hair showing out of their top. His trunks were not greatly filled, but I could see the small bulge of his cock lying to one side. What must he have thought, me looking at him this way? Perhaps he didn't notice that I was. Perhaps he saw me looking but didn't see me looking that way. But I was, and in those few seconds, I felt a sweet and gentle arousing. He came back a minute later with his cigarettes and two drinks, and once more I enjoyed the view as he walked to the pool. It was great to squat there in the water, smoking and talking, but now, as I talked to him, I couldn't get the image of his body out of my mind. The water was white, like milk, from whatever hygiene method they used, and I was relieved that he couldn't see my excitement. It was dark, the pool was lit, and there didn't seem to be any other guests here. The only sounds were of us talking and splashing in the pool. I swam with my cock hard, watching him, occasionally feeling the touch of his skin as he flitted past, and it was the most frustrating and yet enjoyable feeling. When we squatted in the shallow water, with just our heads above the surface, I held myself, pressing gently, imagining that he was doing the same. When John got out a little later I said that I wanted to stay and have another smoke, though of course it was just that I didn't want him to see me aroused like this. I had a cigarette and, sure enough, with much thought of things other than him, my arousal subsided. When I eventually got out, I dried off a little and went back to the room. John had not even removed his wet trunks, but had lain on the bed and gone to sleep. His attitude was one of complete relaxation and he was the picture of beauty. One arm was behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. His face was blissfully relaxed and his chest rose and fell gently. His left knee was drawn up in a very fetching way, and I could see the outline of his cock to one side in his trunks. A small patch of soft fuzzy hair poked out of the sides and top of them but he wasn't very hairy at all. His chest was smooth; his stomach had a few wisps down its centre, and his legs had a delicate covering. I felt giddy seeing him this way-my mind was reeling. My body stirred at once, and my heart was pounding as I shut the door quietly and put down my towel. I walked over to him and stood there, consumed, enjoying his form as the situation sank in. I felt quite horny looking at him. I could feel myself hardening rapidly. It was a difficult situation! I took off my wet underwear, sat down on my bed and, in case he woke, put my towel over myself. I slipped my hand underneath and felt myself. I was hard already and that first touch was just magical. I hardly dared breath for fear of waking him as I rubbed myself a little with finger and thumb. It started off quite tentatively but it felt so good, looking at him and rubbing like this, that before very long I wrapped my finger and thumb round my cock and my strokes became a little more deliberate. In fact, it felt very good and I relaxed a bit and wanked a little harder. The situation was amazing - looking at John sleeping there, enjoying this wanking, knowing that he had no idea. I was imagining all sorts of things with him. He looked so fast asleep and I was feeling so horny, that I got this sense of abandon. I pulled the towel away, half of me knowing that he probably wouldn't wake up, and the other half not really caring if he did. I climbed on my bed, kneeling, rubbing myself swiftly. I love masturbating like that, feeling my balls swinging. In a way I was starting to wish that he would wake. And if he did, there would be no explaining this away - plain and simple: I was naked and wanking myself watching him, and it felt fantastic. Most people have felt so horny that they would do just about anything, and it was the same for me: after a bit, I just couldn't keep my hands off him. I got up - just to have a look at him - knelt by his bed, and started rubbing myself again. His trunks were tiny and they left nothing to the imagination. Through the silky material I could see the outline of his cock and his balls. It was lying to the left, and although it was not so big it was only just covered by the trunks. Once I was there, so close to him, wanking myself and looking at his cock, I could not stop myself from touching him. My heart really was racing. I didn't know very much about him, how he would feel about this or anything - he had a girl at home - but I just had to do it. I wanted him to wake up and be part of this. I put my hand out, grasping his cock through his trunks. I held it gently between my finger and thumb and rubbed it up and down. He didn't wake up, so I did it again very gently. Nothing! I stroked it again and again, and then, the most amazing thing: his cock started to stir. He hadn't woken, but his cock had. His trunks tightened as I rubbed him gently like this. I kept squeezing him, enjoying the fact it was stiffening, stretching his trunks. In fact, they started to lift as it grew - it was getting quite firm. It suddenly popped out from under his trunks and he stirred. I let go of it, frozen, waiting for his reaction. His arm moved, and then, as consciousness suddenly hit him, he lifted his head up, saw me, and flopped back down on the pillow. He put his arm up over his eyes, and spoke blearily. "What are you doing?" He sounded a bit grumpy, but only as someone who had been woken might. He also sounded disarmed, taken by surprise. I took hold of his cock properly now, at last feeling the heat of it in my fingers. I shifted my grip slightly, wrapping my finger and thumb round it, and started to rub the end of it a bit. "Do you like it?" I asked, wanking him gently. "Yes." He was becoming awake very quickly. "I do." "You don't mind? You're not angry?" He lifted his arm and smiled at me. "No," he said, "it's nice. It's just a surprise, that's all." "I saw you lying there when I came in. I felt funny seeing you. I couldn't help it." "I must have been so tired. I was only going to lie there for a minute." He shifted his body a little, and opened both his legs. His cock was becoming a nice warm erection. I pulled the front of his trunks down so I could see his whole length. It was about the same length as mine, and very thin. His testicles were small and wrinkled, hugging his body. "How long was I sleeping when you came in?" he asked. "Only a few minutes." "Did you like seeing me?" "Yes." I held the front of his trunks down with one hand, and grasped his cock with my other. It was incredible feeling his length growing in my hand. "Let me take these off," I said, letting go of it, and tugging at the sides of his trunks. He lifted his backside to assist, and the trunks slid down his legs. Seeing his whole body naked made by feel giddy. I took hold of his cock again and started wanking him again slowly. "Are you hard?" he asked "God, yes!" I felt him quiver in my hand when I answered. Or at least, I imagined I did. "Let me see yours," he said, "I've never seen someone else's before." I let go of him, and stood up. My cock was standing bolt upright. I felt very excited. He sat up and reached out for me, taking it in his fingers. My cock was level with his face, and he put his other hand on my hip as I stood in front of him. He started wanking me a little, and his first strokes made me gasp. "God, that's nice!" "It feels strange," he said, "it's different to mine." "It feels pretty good to me!" I said. "Were you wanking when I was asleep?" he asked. I was a little embarrassed, and I felt myself flushing. "A bit." "Where were you?" "On my bed." "Did you like it?" "Yes." "Does this feel nice?" he asked. His wanking was perfect and it felt fantastic. "Yes," I said, "it's just right." He let go of me and crossed his legs. "Sit down here," he said, patting the bed. I sat down in front of him on the bed, cross-legged too. He reached out and took hold of me again. His hand started to rub me, and I stopped him, peeling his fingers from around my cock. "Like this, a bit higher," I said, showing him how it felt best. "Show me how you like it." I took hold of his cock, and he moved my hand, getting it right for him. "Go!" he said, and started to rub me. I started too, and the feeling of our wanking each other was amazing. It felt so exciting, having a cock in my hand, and being wanked at the same time. I felt as solid as a piece of granite, and his cock, too, was as stiff as a rod as our hands pumped away. Before long we got to a steady rhythm, enjoying the sensations, looking at each other, rubbing smoothly. His gaze moved between my face and my cock. My mouth was open, and I was conscious that my breath was coming in little gasps. His face had become an expression of combined agony and bliss. He stopped suddenly, letting go of me. I did too, and in the sudden calm I could feel my heart going mad, beating hard. "It's amazing," he said, "I never thought it would feel like this." "It feels so good," I agreed. He uncrossed his legs, and opened them up. "Come here," he said, pulling my feet to uncross my legs too. He put my legs over his and pulled me closer. I moved towards him and our cocks nearly touched as our legs intertwined. His body was covered with a light sweat, and mine was too. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Comfy?" he asked. "Yes." He reached for my cock again, and I did the same. The wanking started again, but this time, I could feel that his cock was sticky. "You're all wet," I said. "So are you," he said, and rubbed his fingers over the head of my cock. I could feel my own wetness. We stayed there like that, wanking each other, for only a couple of minutes, I suppose, our excitement mounting with every stroke. At one point his spare hand went round me, drawing me close to him, and in the blur of sexual tension I found that we were resting our heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, and rubbing each other's cock. "I'm going to cum," he said suddenly. I let go of him. I had a sudden urge when he said that. "Will you do something?" I asked. "I don't know why, but�" I paused "What?" he said "Will you cum on me?" I asked. "Yes." He took my hand and placed it on his cock again. It felt so hard, and wet too. I started rubbing him once again, as quickly and smoothly as I could. "Oh, make me cum." he gasped, "Make me cum over you." "Yes." I concentrated on making it feel good for him. He leant back on his hands, offering his cock to me. He made little sighing noises, and his body shifted and twitched as I rubbed him. I wanked him as quickly as I could and then, after just a few seconds, I suddenly felt his cock swell in my hand. "This is it!" he said. "I'm going to cum now." "Go for it. All over me." I pointed his cock at me as I wanked him. He gasped deeply, his body went straight, and his spunk shot out in a great arc as his orgasm hit him. It landed on my cock, and the heat from it seemed to burn as it touched me. And then, another wad of the white stuff came, landing over my cock & stomach. His eyes were closed and his face was twisted with the agony of his orgasm as I stroked him. Another long string of sperm fell on me, then another. I felt his cock jerk with every spurt. "It's feels very hot," I gasped. Gradually he stopped cumming and I slowed down. His eyes opened and he smiled, reaching for my hand to stop it as his orgasm subsided. "Thank you," he said. "That's alright. I'm glad you enjoyed it." He looked at my cock. "You're covered," he said. He reached for me, spreading his spunk around, rubbing it gently over the whole length of my cock. "That's good", I said. I leant back in the same way he had. It was my turn to feel the waves of pleasure as he touched me. He gathered more of his cum from my stomach, slid back my foreskin, and rubbed it over me. "You're so hard," he said. "God yes. That was fantastic. Will you make me cum now?" "Of course I will," he said, "just lie back." I lay down on the bed, and opened my legs for him. He was sat cross-legged between them. I felt so horny, offering myself to him like this. He took hold of me and started wanking me again. Feeling his slippery hands touching me, and knowing that it was his spunk plastered over me, blew my mind. I closed my eyes, relishing the tides of pleasure, which were centred on my cock. His wanking was swift and smooth and I could feel the orgasm building inside me. He moved on the bed, kneeling over me, and I looked down to the most incredible sight. His still-hard cock was hanging above mine, as he pumped away, and the vision of it sent me over the edge. My orgasm burst out, shooting great wads of spunk all over my chest and stomach. "Slowly!" I gasped, and his hand slowed, finishing my orgasm gradually. "Oh, thank you. That was so good." He lay down next to me, still holding my cock, and we slept. The next day, at the border post, we went our separate ways and that was the last we saw of each other. I quite often think about him, and it usually ends up with me wanking!