Brit Lads on Safari Chapter 1

Brit Lads on Safari

This is a story. The term "boy" is used to refer to people over 18. I wrote this ages ago, but decided to improve it a bit, and finish the story (over the next few weeks I'm going to revise parts 1,2 and 3 and publish new Parts 4 and 5). Please let me know if you enjoy this or want to propose a name for the guy telling the story!
ipa.alley@protonmail.com

Part 1

We'd picked up the two boys at the last travellers' hostel in the last town before several hundred miles of empty nearly-desert. They'd come to Africa because they wanted to see the animals, but rather than a national park they'd somehow got stranded in the shithole town we found them in. Now they needed a lift to the next centre of civilization, two days' drive away.

They were on holiday for a few weeks. Me and my mate had a battered 4x4 and had been travelling in southern Africa for a few months. It was a final adventure of our early 30s before real life hit, back in London, in my case marriage and all the shit that went with that

The two boys - they were mid-twenties but you couldn't call them men - were obviously gay. Short, softly spoken and far too tidily dressed in crisp polo shirts for the dirt-poor, dusty town where they'd ended up. They were European, French or Italian or something. Lucio was blondish, kind of a small square body, boringly chatty, Julien was brown haired, slim, shy and quiet - both feminine but in different ways. I don't know if one was fucking the other: it was hard to imagine either of them on top.

They'd begged a ride with us and even given us $100. Obviously not just because we'd take them in the right direction but because they wanted to be in a car with men, straight, tanned, a head taller and way more muscular than them. "A head taller" is an average. Harry - my mate - was a foot taller than those little guys: he's 6'6, wiry, blond. I'm a lot thicker set, basically a better body, but nothing special in height, about 5'9, though still taller than our little hitchhikers.

It was a dull day. We drove for hours through the desert, no animals, no towns and we passed only three other cars. Lucio ("Christ, even your name's gay," Harry had told him) chattered the whole way, telling us for three hours straight about how he had decorated his apartment.

The map had shown, close to the road, a campsite where we were spending the first night. When we got there, it was just an empty field with a few clumps of sparse grass, a standpipe and a drop toilet. A solitary old man was stood at the gate. He sold us some firewood, unlocked the standpipe,and then disappeared.

Harry and I filled up our water tank at the pipe and then started putting our tents up and making a fire. We didn't bother washing: we'd decided well over a week ago that that could wait until we next had our own rooms in a proper hotel with showers. We're both hairy fuckers and must have stank, but after a few days we were used to it and, anyway, I've secretly always liked the smell of my own stale sweat.

Our two little backpackers were determined to wash thoroughly, though. As dusk set in, Harry and I drank beer and sat around the campfire. We looked over as the boys unlaced their trainers, took their clothes off and put them in neat little folded piles on the ground. Then they took turns using a cup to run the water from the tap over the compact bodies, soaping themselves up and rinsing it off, first their chest and arms, then their little pencil dicks and balls. Lucio's white chest - broad for his height - was smooth, basically totally hairless, his pubes shaved. Julien, slender and darker skinned, had a chest and stomach covered with fine dark hair. At the same, probably pre-agreed, moment they turned around and both soaped up their arses, Lucio's plump and white, Julien's narrower, hairy.

"I think they're doing a show for us." Harry said.

Julien, the shyer one, only rubbed gently and a bit embarrassedly at his butt cheeks. But Lucio, clearly the slut of the two, pulled the cheeks apart, soaped up his crack, let the foam run down between his legs. He was even bending forward, reaching his fingers in to rub soap into his hole. And all the time checking out of the corner of his eye to see if we were watching.

"Would you do it?" Harry asked. The "it" was obvious. "I fucking would. I haven't fucked in a month man." (Harry had - not without reason - cursed every woman we'd met travelling recently as lesbians).

"And how are those asses different from two bitches? Apart from the fact we'd actually get into them."

"Well there's the hair on one of them for a start." I pointed out.

He grinned at me. "Not the one I'm fucking. You're getting the hairy arsed one."

I didn't have a great night's sleep. This was rural Africa and once we were in our tents there was the inevitable noise of animals roaming around the campsite, sniffing to see if we'd left food out. It was fine, but it was new to the boys. In his tent, Harry snored through but, in mine, the scared squeals from the boys' shared tent kept me awake.

"Go to sleep, it's fine," I'd had to tell them three times in my best reassuring dad voice, "Nothing's going to attack you."

That didn't turn out to be entirely true.

I was pissed off to be woken early the next morning by shouting. I guessed what was happening. The night before, Harry and I had agreed a rough plan for the day. It was a plan that included him ass-fucking Lucio when we arrived at the city we were heading for, if he still wanted to. The plan certainly didn't include screwing anybody at this campsite, before breakfast. But I guess Harry'd woken with a hard-on and, like a kid at Christmas, couldn't wait.

When I'd pulled my shorts and boots on, I got outside my tent. I saw Harry, also just in his shorts, literally dragging, like a fucking caveman, the blond boy by his legs along the ground. The other boy, Julien, was beating against Harry's chest trying to get him to let go, with absolutely no impact. There was a lot of yelling. It was chaos.

I knew there was little point trying to stop Harry doing whatever he was going to do to Lucio, so I walked over and grabbed Julien and pulled him away. Julien struggled against me. He wanted to go to his friend, get Harry off him. But even though I was half asleep it was easy to hold his small, lithe body; I soon got him into an arm lock. And as he fought against me, I was surprised by how much his wriggling turned me on. He was only wearing boxers and I was aware of his narrow arse rubbing against my crotch. I could smell his hair, his clean, young smell.

I spoke directly into Julien's ear and appealed to his bad side.

"Don't you want to watch your friend get fucked?"

The wriggling stopped. Still in my grip, he twisted his head round. He grinned at me shyly but broadly. "Yes, and will you fuck me too?"

I hadn't really decided that I would until that moment. But the slim little body of this gay boy with his wide brown eyes and excitement at taking my cock was pretty convincing.

"Yeh I think I will. But only if you let Harry have a go at your friend here first. Then I'll do you later, in private."

Julien smiled, happy to have sold out his friend for a taste of my cock. I took him over to lean against the car, to watch Harry with Lucio.

By now Harry had the little blondish slut face down in the middle of the grass, holding him with a knee in the boy's back.He'd ripped Lucio's underpants off so that the plump arse we'd seen so much of last night was once more open to the air. The boy was struggling, trying to get away.

Harry tended to follow his dick. But I knew we'd have problems if the boy didn't accept - didn't want - what was going to happen. I walked over, put my boot on Lucio's neck.

"This is the way I see it," I said. "Harry here wants to try out that ass you were showing us last night. That's what you wanted isn't it? And you'd like to try out Harry too I bet."

He muttered something that was sort of reluctant agreement. It was hard to hear with my boot pushing his face into the ground.

"Well this is how you're taking it. This is how Harry wants you. And you're gay, you'll like it rough."

A slight nod. I took my boot off the boy's neck.

"Say it." I told him.

"Yes" muttered Lucio into the ground.

"What?"

He lifted his head up slightly. "Yes I want him fuck me." His voice was wobbling. He was afraid, but his slut-hunger for dick won out.

So Harry knelt down between the boy's legs to deal with the bit he was going to fuck. His big hands spread the round bare cheeks of the boy's arse. The cheeks were much fatter than the rest of his little body. And pulling the cheeks apart revealed the boy's best, hidden secret. I'd drunkenly fucked a couple of guys in college but never looked at a boy's needing to be fucked, but at the same time so tightly closed you'd never imagine a dick breaking it open.

"Look at it, it's fucking perfect," I said.

Harry smiled "yep." He licked a finger and shoved it up there.

He didn't get very far. The boy squealed. For a queer, his butthole was tight. He was young, I guess.

Harry pulled his finger out. "Jesus, I'm never going to get in there."

Harry only thought with his dick, but I was prepared. I'd put in my back pocket the one small bottle of cooking oil we kept in the back of the car for camp cooking. I knelt down next to Harry, shoved him out of the way. I poured oil thickly over the part of the little chicken that was about to get fully skewered. I ran my finger a couple of times around the pretty outer circle of his hole and then slid my finger in there. It was so fucking smooth, like velvet.

I probed him a few times like that and then put a second finger up there. The boy cried out. I enjoyed that and started fucking him with the two fingers, forcing them harder in and out of that deep, moist pussy. Each time Lucio's cries died down I stretched my fingers further apart to keep up the pressure and hear him squeal some more.

I glanced at Harry, he was getting impatient. His dick was tenting his shorts like they were going to rip.

"Come on man you were going to leave this one to me," he moaned.

"OK, OK, I'm just opening the slut up for you."

I pulled my fingers out of Lucio and stood aside, to leave Harry to it.

He couldn't wait for me to go. "Fuck man, I need to hit this, now." He dropped his shorts.

I'd like to say this was the first time I'd seen Harry's hard-on but he's a drunken, exhibitionist twat so it really wasn't. His dick's a good size: not as fat as mine but longer and with a vicious downward curve at the end.

I wandered off to lean against the car, next to Julien, to watch the rest of it.

By now Harry was kneeling on Lucio's thighs, the full weight of his big body pinning the bitch to the ground. His prick was poised like a snake over the boy's cunt.

Lucio tried to turn round to get a look at the weapon that was about to go inside him but instead, Harry grabbed the boy's hair, pulled his head back. The boy whimpered.

And then Harry leaned forward and shoved the whole of that wicked curved cock into the boy's oiled pussy, all at once. Lucio yelled as he was impaled and - at the same time - the big guy dropped down on top of him.

Harry's hairy blond arse was soon grinding hard into Lucio - going at it like he was trying to break the boy open permanently. Being so much taller than Lucio, he was holding the weight of his thrusting body as if he was doing press-ups, one hand directly on the ground, the other pressed on the boy's head, crushing it into the dust. There was no thought for Lucio's comfort. Each thrust - full in, full out - drew another cry from him that only after a few minutes reduced to broken moans.

"Looks painful." I said to Julien.

He laughed. "Yeah, but is hot to see. Lucio wants it. And he will not die."

We watched as Harry built up to finish the job. It didn't take long - he wasn't exactly pacing it. After a few minutes he grunted twice, a final massive thrust and then he froze, his dick as deep inside Lucio as he could get it. Even from several meters away you could hear him panting and see the repeated twitch of the muscles in his arse as he pumped load after load into the boy.

When he'd done injecting the boy with litres of cum, Harry pulled out, slumped back. He knelt between the boy's legs, his cock glistening wet and still hard. He stayed there a moment, catching his breath, then turned around and grinned at me. "Tightest fuck I ever had."

Then he grabbed his shorts, stood up and walked off a little way to take a noisy piss.

Lucio still lay flat out on the ground, not moving. I thought briefly Harry really might have fucked him to death, but a slow moan showed he was still breathing. I went over to him, Julien trotting along behind me like a puppy. I used my boot to pull one of Lucio's butt cheeks aside, to see the damage. The tight, puckered, button asshole had gone. Now he had what looked more like a proper cunt, red, open, wet with oil, cum and its own juices, obviously ready and just waiting to be fucked again.

Harry, finished pissing, came over to see too. "Nice job eh? And I'll destroy it some more this evening."

We were all looking down at Lucio's naked body but Julien wanted more of my attention on him. With a cheeky glance up at me he knelt to scoop up a dribble of Harry's cum from his friend's arse cheek and put it in his mouth.

Harry smirked, "Looks like your bitch wants a bit of me too."

My response was to give Julien what he'd asked for: a smack round the head, sending the boy sprawling to the ground on his side. Harry smirked some more.

Julien looked up at me from the ground, blinking. "I'm sorry."

He looked hot there lying at my feet, still just in his boxers which were now half pulled down to reveal his arse, his skinny body, his pleading eyes.

"I do anything you want," he said.

If anything ever needed to be fucked right there and then, it was him. But, unlike Harry and like a normal person, I prefer sex in private. And it was getting late,we had a long journey ahead of us.

"Come on, we need to get these faggots on the road," Harry said.

He was right. I told Julien to get up and start packing their stuff away. But before Harry and I too turned to packing up, the big guy wanted a photo of his conquest.

Lucio had lain exhausted on the ground for a long time, not moving from the position he'd been fucked in. Now, he was starting to struggle to get up. But before he could, Harry walked over, put his foot on the little slut's arse and grabbed his short blond hair, pulling his head and neck upwards off the ground. He bent over, cleared his throat and delivered a big gob of spit and snot into the boy's face.

Then, grinning as I got ready to take the photo on my phone, Harry posed like a big game hunter, holding up Lucio's head like a recently shot animal, a safari trophy.

At that point, Lucio made the mistake of starting to talk again.

"Hey, you don't need do the spit. And sex... was good, but it hurt man. Next time....."

A firm slap across the face from Harry shut Lucio up.

I've still got the photo I took. The dry, empty campsite. Harry, proud, bare chest still sweaty from the exertion of his fuck, holding Lucio's head up at the level of his waist. Lucio's blond, boyish, handsome young face, red, sore, covered in spit, but still, somehow, pouting. And in the background of the photo is Julien, slim, shy, waiting for my dick.