Busman's Holiday 13
cajuncock
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Busmans Holiday 13
cajuncock
Two more days in Florence were filled with touring, not only the city but also the Tuscany area. Each bus trip brought more revelations to me. Small towns often held secrets. These were interlaced with tales of lust. In one such town I had a local guide, Angelo. He was a young student studying English. We quickly caught on to the gay vibe from each other. I learned of Italian noble houses and the sinful workings of lustful desires that brought many down to ruin.
I was taken to abandoned farm houses where men satisfied their lust for other men. In one such place my young guide demonstrated his story with a re-enactment of the events. We can learn much from history if we just open ourselves up to its lessons. I truly and willingly opened myself up to the guides recreation the many historic tales of lust. He was an angel of a boy with dark hair, red lips, and a body that the best Renaissance sculptor would want to create in marble. He certainly had many hidden talents of his own hidden beneath his fashionable outfit. Those old statues did not accurately portray the size and beauty of the Italian cocks. My guide, Angelo, accompanied me back to the B&B after the first day of touring the country side. We made passionate love. His uncut cock was like a new toy for me. His smooth, lightly haired ass was a gift waiting to be opened. For three hours were satisfied each other in every possible way. My rampant, stiff cock was the key that fit perfectly to open his moist hole. I had him on his back so that I could see his angel like face squirm as I searched for his prostate with my own key to pleasure. Each time I rubbed his lust button he moaned and thrust upward to get more of me inside his body.
After our early evening bout in bed I took him to dinner in a quaint little place he suggested. Hidden in the old quarter of the city was a discrete gay restaurant. We had to knock to be admitted. Once inside I marveled at the decor, Medieval dungeon. Our servers, all dressed in short leather tunics and slave collars, were eager to serve our every need. Each table was set off in an alcove, hidden from view of most of the other guests. The Maitre di carrying his whip showed us to out table. Our server was introduced with a quick snap of the whip on his exposed backsides.
I noticed over the next few hours that other guests, regulars by the greetings they received, join in administering punishments for faulty service. Most of the customers and young servers seem to be enjoying themselves. At the end of the meal time we, along with the other guests, were led down a flight of stone steps to the lower level. Here we were entertained with a display of the sexual prowess of the young men. Each guest was invited to join. Couches were arranged along the walls of the darkened chamber. Young boys circulated from one to the other offering us an opportunity to sample their desserts, their bodies. Some were young blond Italians from the north. Others were the darker men from the south. They came in many shades and each had piercings to enhance their pleasure. Angelo and I watched the young, muscled boys engage in numerous sex acts.
At one point thick mattresses were pulled out into the open space in the center of the room. Guests and their dining partners were invited to join the servers. Hurriedly, clothing was discarded as an unnecessary obstacles, as the men fell upon the mats ready to demonstrate their sexual prowess. I was not shy. I fucked Angelo and one of the blond boys, alternating between them. I wanted to give the audience a demonstration of American sexual stamina. Both boys were on their hands and knees as I fucked them alternating from one to the other. But I was not selfish. I had the two lay down so that their stiff cocks were side by side. Taking a hit of poppers, I eased myself down on both cocks. When I reached bottom, fully burying them inside my hole, the watching men gave us a round of applause. I rode both cocks until the two young men yelled out as they emptied their cum inside my body. But that was not the end. Others came up to suck the two loads from my hole. The talented tongues pulled every once from me. Once that was done, they proceeded to show me how well the Italian men can fuck. One after the other the guests filled me with their Italian sausages, leaving a deposit in my cum bank.
At the end of the night, we all dressed and left generous tips for the servers. Angelo walked me back to my room. Since it was my last night in Florence he wanted to spend the time in bed with me. We enjoyed each others body before falling into a sound slumber. I woke to the pleasant feeling of Angelo's mouth sucking me back to stiffness. Once he was satisfied that I was ready he mounted me for one, last wild ride. By now I'd grown accustomed to his body and knew how to bring him the maximum pleasures. After an intense mutual orgasm we showered. I repacked my bags and with Angelo's help went to the station to reserve my overnight train to Paris.
We spent the day seeing some sites, sending postcards off to friends and family in the US. I spotted a small jewelry shop and slipped away from Angelo for a few minutes. Inside I discovered an ideal parting gift for my Italian friend. Later in the early evening, we went to the station where I had checked my bag. Angelo made sure that i got to the right train and was settled in my compartment. I gave him the small, silver ring I'd bought earlier and a card with my home address. He left me with tears in his eyes. I went to the window to wave good bye. I saw him whispering to the car attendant, both smiling. I wondered about their whispered conversation. One last wave and the train departed Florence. It had been a memorable visit and I thought that I'd left part of my heart there.
Dinner was served late in the Italian fashion. My dining table companions were two younger men. One, a young American priest studying at his order's seminary in Rome and the other, a Canadian having spent a year studying art at the Academia in Rome. They seemed to have met during their respective studies. They'd planned to spend a few days in Paris before returning to their homes. For my dinner I'd decided on a light meal-pasta and fish. I ordered a Italian white wine for us to share.
Over dinner we discussed our impressions of European culture and manners. They'd spent some weekends touring around the south of Italy. I recounted my travels so far, leaving out those parts that might offend my dinner companions. All of us were headed to Paris. They were taking flights back to North America in a few days. At the end of the meal we headed back to the sleeping cars. I discovered that they were sharing the compartment next to mine. They invited me in to share a bottle of grappa with them. The priest asked the car attendant to bring glasses, water, and ice in excellent Italian. We sat in their small compartment talking and drinking for an hour. At one point the car attendant came by to ask me if he could make up my bed. I nodded Ok. Instead of going out to enter my compartment he unlocked a door I'd not noticed. It connected my compartment to theirs. He returned and the priest had a short conversation with him. I suggested that we might go to my own compartment while the attendant made up their beds. Sitting talking, I noticed that they were very familiar with each, laughing and often touching. I'd often notice men in Italy doing this and thought nothing of it. I wondered...
Ok guys our traveler discovers another city with its many opportunities for fun. Want more? Comments- jaskejr@hotmail.com Remember Nifty needs your support to bring you more cum filled stories.