Captured

Chapter 29. First time with Luis since the twink party.

The next day was Saturday, I had to leave Danville early to open my office. We walked the length of the runway (again) looking for any damage (from reverse-thrust braking) to the new runway during my landing yesterday. We never saw anything except faint black streaks when the main landing gear first contacted the asphalt, which is totally normal. The skid marks started two feet beyond the LZ box. If we found any cracks or missing layers I was ready to shout "That's on my side of the runway!" Then we checked the Citation again and found everything was as it should be. When I told Dan I needed to leave soon he offered to drop me off at the N2 bus stop in town by the post office. The actual bus stop is beside the highway.

The bus stop was like the newer ones in the states, a steel bench with sun and wind screens and a roof with a sign describing the N2 bus route, in Arabic. I paced around in the warm early morning sunshine for 20 minutes then the bus appeared in the distance so I got out my one-Euro bills, I'd need three for a transfer because I'd be taking the bus to work from home.

It's interesting standing beside the N2, a four lane divided highway that really doesn't have too many speed limit signs. I think it's something like 60mph (95kph?), I never drive here. Since car ownership is uncommon in Morocco that makes most of the traffic on the N2 different types of trucks. On an American US Route XX highway you see mostly cars, but here it's mostly trucks, big ones and little ones, loud ones and smoky ones. I saw lots of semis roar by the bus stop bench.

The end of the N2 is at the big train station on the southeast side of Tangier, which is about .9 of a mile south of my apartment, it's an easy walk (aprox 20 mins) on a smooth sidewalk. I walked swiftly toward the bay, the sidewalk ends at a traffic light about 200 feet from the KFC front doors.

I got home at 8:25am and took a shower then texted Luis. He was supposed to be in Tangier at his grandfather's place this weekend. We don't really know each other well, but we actually stood face to face and spoke at the twink party for fifteen minutes. I admired his body and his rather long dick, but he was un-cut and I came from a place where most boys were cut the day they were born. I didn't even know foreskins existed until I was in high school and saw my first turtle neck dick.

Luis responded ten minutes later, he said he was helping his grandfather in the bathroom when his phone buzzed. I replied right away asking if he wanted to go have a beer somewhere and he replied `Si! Hay una barra cerca del apartamento de mi abuelo.'

Luis said he's near the airport. That area is thick with `Section-8 housing.' We decided to meet at a bar near the airport. He said he'd walk over and meet me there, we agreed on 7pm tonight. I must confess I grew a small wet spot just talking to him about meeting. I decided to close the store a little early so I could race home and take a short nap, maybe 90 minutes to reset my brain.

After my nap I showered and changed into nicer (more revealing) clothes and left at 6pm and took a red taxi to near the airport and walked about half a mile north to the cafe. The sign was in Arabic, I had no idea what it was called and probably couldn't pronounce it anyway. The place was trying to look like the old beatnik cafes inside the walled city but this place was full of off-duty airport employees. I arrived 13 minutes early and Luis was already there on a barstool. I recognized him from behind because of his long black hair. The place was playing blues-jazz, what I call heroin music, much of it in English. We discussed drugs at first because of the beatnik atmosphere. Luis said he really didn't use any but he had smoked pot, he liked spiked punch (like hard lemonade) but mostly he was too busy with school to get high these days. I was kind of surprised he knew the word Beatnik. This was his weekend off school to take care of his grandfather, the old guy can no longer be left alone.

The area around the airport where all the welfare housing (section-8) is located is supposedly one of the higher crime areas of Tangier. It's a large cluster of ten-story government owned apartment blocks, very plain, with minimal parking and quite a bit of graffiti and reports of gun shots at night. It's a good place to get arrested at 3am. But it's not as bad as I make it sound. I think they had three murders in that area last year, which is not very impressive compared to Madrid or New York, where they have three per day.

Black market drugs are available all over Morocco but if the modesty police catch you buying/selling narcs you will probably vanish from the planet. Maybe not that day but you will be added to the list. This arbitrary strict enforcement tends to keep crime lower in this country. Be afraid of the criminals but be even more afraid of being caught.

Seated beside Luis on the next bar stool I asked about his grandfather (we spoke in Spanish). "My grandfather has dementia and it's getting worse quickly, the Medico is testing different drugs on him to get him calmed down in the evening because he goes crazy late in the day but this new pill we're using makes him feeling tired about an hour after dinner and he sleeps all night, but he still gets up early like he has something important to do, like a job. We have to put it in his food because he thinks everyone's trying to control his thoughts. He knows something is wrong but the worse it gets the more he fights everyone. He's hallucinating every day now, 4 weeks ago it was like twice a week."

"How old is he?" I asked.

"He's 71, but they say he probably won't make it to his next birthday. They say he does not have Alzheimer's but has a form of dementia that runs in his family and mostly effects men, and gets worse quickly. Men with this disease often get violent near the end, he is starting to get that way now."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Seventy one is a good life, right?" I asked.

"Yah, it's okay. We lived with my grandparents for years when we were little kids, they were like my parents. Grandma died in 2005 and now everything is different and we all take turns helping him, but when I left he was already in bed and zonked out for the night with a big diaper on, so he's cool."

"What drug is he taking now?" I asked thinking I already knew the answer.

"It's a small yellow pill with a weird American name."

"Probably Zyprax?" I offered.

"I think that sounds right but I'm not sure. He has pills for his blood pressure and cholesterol, but he's starting to refuse them too. We crush them and mix it in his food. Believe me, we are muy lucky he likes applesauce!"

"And he's been sun-downing in the evening?"

"I think that's what it's called, late in the day he gets wound-up and he gets angry at everyone and he wants to do things that don't exist and you cannot explain to him it's 2019 and not 1969 and he's not in Vietnam. I tried to tell him Hanoi is a tourist destination now and he accuses me of telling lies for the CIA! And I say, "But Grandpa, I'm only 19, and the CIA doesn't hire anyone without a college education." We've actually got into fights with him about not going outside to shoot the NVA. I think he volunteered to serve with Morocco in the war as a foot soldier. I think he was really gung-ho when he was my age. It's hard to imagine him like that, but it's true. It's hard to imagine he is my mother's father!"

After a brief pause Luis said, "Abuelo always eats a snack after dinner, we put medicine in his pudding or in his applesauce. About 90 minutes later he gets the yawns so we help him to the bathroom to put his diaper on, and get him in bed with the bed-alarm if he tries to get out of bed overnight. The tiredness hits him so suddenly he never makes an association with dinner and getting tired suddenly." Luis kind of chuckled at the situation. I told him I could not imagine what it must be like seeing that in someone he loves so much.

Then Luis kind of got quiet and he said, "It's really crazy, I think what he sees is a blend of his apartment and things that aren't there, I think he sees the jungle out the windows and hears machine gun fire and helicopters in the distance. He cannot tell the difference between real and hallucinations and he gets very motivated to do things that make no sense. It's scary and I don't want to die like that, just shoot me when I no longer know where I am or what year it is. He has no clue, except once in a while he knows its 2019 and he's in Morocco, then it goes away. It's like he's stuck in a nightmare. He knows something is wrong but he sort of surrenders to it."

"When he tries to go outside after dinner because of the machine guns I try to get him into the bathroom and we stand at the mirror and I ask him what year it is, then I make him explain how he looks old at age 18. Then I tell him its 2019 and the war ended 50 years ago, there are no machine gun noises outside. That one works the best lately."

I thought about asking how he ended up in Tangier when he was from Spain but I decided to let the subject drop. I think it might be due to his military service. Luis said that they cannot have any shows on the TV with gun fire or explosion sounds after 3pm or it triggers his hallucinations.

I ordered us refills and paid and while the bartender was tapping our beers I started to regret that I asked about his grandfather's dementia, but that's autism. It seemed like a good idea at the time, I was innocently curious.

Luis told me one time when his grandfather said he heard automatic gun fire outside I reminded him, "Grandfather, what's my name?" "Luis Rodriguez, my youngest grandson." "I was born 24 years after the Vietnam War ended. How can Vietnam be going on if I'm alive?" He explained how that snapped him out of it but it also made him mad, like everyone was making fun of him. Luis got him seated on the sofa and sat next to him and pulled his arm over his shoulders and they sat there watching game shows on TV until dinner time. But it only worked that one time. Luis said the weird thing about his type of dementia is his grandfather gets super motivated to do odd stuff, which is what makes him dangerous because if someone tells him no he sometimes gets really mad. `My Mom had to install a bell on the hallway door in case he tries to leave to rejoin his unit on patrol.'

I told Luis that was a beautiful story and "I honestly believe that people who care for the elderly with dementia get a special reward in heaven for such acts of generosity and compassion." Luis was briefly brought to tears and we had a few moments of quiet. I watched his hands on his beer glass for a time, and then we started talking again. I wanted to see if he got emotional inside and it made his hands tremble while on the outside he tried to act calm and cool.

Next, we discussed the twink party and how we got invited. I said, "The dude who invited me is somewhere in southwest Morocco doing research for his master's thesis. Luis told me he watched the blow job I did on the pool steps and it was the hottest show he's seen in his life, he said he was hard and dripping the entire time. I laughed at the thought because I had no idea I had that much impact on others. So I asked, "Do you think other guys liked our show?"

"Yes much! I saw lots of boners around the pool that afternoon! I bet if you had stood up and looked around the pool deck you would have seen over a dozen boners with strings of pre-come dangling off the end because of your performance!" Luis said my show had him hypnotized and he could not stop watching.

Then he said that if you were an Arabic gay twink you probably didn't watch much porn on your cell because it's against the law, so for most of them it was something they never saw before (but heard about), and it was a live performance only twenty feet away.

I told him I was mentally engrossed in what I was doing, I never really thought about anything except Patrik's dick. I wanted everyone to see me swallow his load.

Luis suddenly changed the subject by asking where I grew-up so I used the map app on his cell to show the USA and I zoomed in on southern Texas and pointed to the southwest side of Houston. We leaned over until our shoulders touched so we could both see the small screen together, which was kind of nice leaning into each other.

He showed me where he grew up in a part of northern Madrid that sort of looked like more suburban sprawl, so I had him show me his high school and where he's going to college for his masters in aeronautics. His school was near one of the older airports around Madrid, probably a vocational school.

The way he reacted to my home in a distant city in a distant state inside the USA was like I was pointing out one specific crater on the moon. He was amazed that it was so far away (5000+miles), but here I was so far from home and seemed very healthy and happy. I wanted to say something like `It's not like I had to walk to Europe, they got airplanes now!'

We kidded each other and since Luis was in college working toward his aeronautics degree he challenged me by asking if I knew when jet passenger service came into being and I told him I thought it was the early 1950s, started by BOAC with the Comet 4-engine jet airliner, and how three of them crashed due to sudden-violent decompression caused by metal fatigue. "The Comet is the reason why there are no square corner windows on high altitude aircraft. He said, "They all have rounded corners now. I wrote a paper on it last year, Flight 783 northwest of Calcutta India on May 2nd 1953. They flew into a thunderstorm and the plane suddenly broke-up due to metal fatigue." I told him about a famous industrial accident that happened near where I went to high school and I showed him the exact spot on his map app on his cell.

"There was a famous accident in my home town about 40 years ago that lots of Americans heard of, but nobody outside the USA knew about it. Part of what made it famous was someone was video recording when it happened."

"There was a huge TV broadcast tower (1,800ft/554m tall) being put up near my high school, it was going to be one of the tallest towers in North America when it was done. But while they were lifting one of the antennas up the side of the tower a bolt broke and the antenna fell to the ground, slicing tower guy wires as it fell. All the workers were killed (Senior Road tower collapse, Dec, 1982)." He was familiar with the name Texas but couldn't point to it on a map, now he knows. I know one of our next meetings I am going to have to discuss autism with him because it becomes a factor in all my relationships. It gives new friends the chance to walk away guilt-free, not everyone has the temperament or desire to deal with autistics. Our tendencies bother some people more than others.

We talked about airplanes briefly. Since I grew up in the USA I learned about the Wright Brothers as the inventers of airplanes, but he said that was not true. Several wealthy men in France (Santos Dumont was the most well known) were well ahead of the Wrights and they were also experimenting with hot air balloons, lighter than air-ships, and gliders way before the Wrights demonstrated the Wright Flyer to the U.S. Army. He said people in many European countries were working on powered flight, people we never heard about. They were all wealthy eccentric old guys doing it as a hobby. He said the Wrights invented a type of wing warping but not powered flight itself. It was a group of men all around the globe all working on it about the same time, like a race. Powered flight became possible due to the invention of the gasoline engine, which also made the car possible. The Chinese claim to have put humans in the air under a hot air balloon over two thousand years earlier, as military observers.

The invention of the airplane was like the invention of the light bulb. It was actually a long list of discoveries and patents that came together to create a working form of powered aircraft. The airplane, like the light bulb was made from dozens and dozens of different patents. The person who claims to have invented the light bulb or the airplane purchased the rights to use the inventions of other people to create a better working prototype. The light bulb we know today was dozens of individual discoveries and inventions coming together in the hands of an investor with the money to make progress, same with the all the inventors of the airplane. Luckily many airplane researchers did not patent their discoveries which pushed the science much faster than it did with the light bulb. That is why the science of flight today is much further advanced than light bulbs.

So I asked him if he came at the party and he said he wanked with three guys watching but mostly he walked around naked a few times to show off his body because of how he's shaped. He never even mentioned his big flat nipples, but I knew that was part of his female appearance (femboy) thing. He looks like a young school girl from a distance when he's naked if you don't notice he's rather tall or his dick and balls. Luis told me he liked to do erotic dances by candle light.

"Did you see anyone else come near the time Patrik came?" I asked.

"Yes, I think it was three just after you swallowed. I heard their semen go splat on the pool deck."

"I seem to recall you have big round tits, right?" I bluntly asked as we sat on stools at the bar and kind of spoke softly to each other while holding our beer glasses. We were about the only people in the bar not smoking something and the place reeked of burning pot. He laughed and looked me in the eyes and shrugged his shoulders and nodded yes. I glanced down at his chest but there was nothing to see. If he had asked me I would have given me a quick peek at mine.

I've known several guys like Luis in my life, they are femboys who are very skinny and have long dicks and large flat round nipples, like the size of a drink coaster at the bar, and they all seem reluctant to show them off, like they were embarrassed. I think he heard from a lot of people, especially women who felt he should keep them hidden forever.

The bar tender placed a sheet of paper by us, it looked like a menu but listed all sorts of THC candies they sold, but they did not allow smoking pot in the cafe, but you could eat THC candies. Somehow the cafe always smelled like burning weed while we were there. Maybe it was people just outside the door or the windows passing around a joint.

When we finished our beers I asked if he wanted to take a walk outside to escape all the smoke and he spun around and slid off the bar stool and we walked out the door. By the time we left the bar was packed and loud and very smoky. They had a soccer game (Atlas Lions versus the Pharaohs) on the TV which was getting everyone spun-up. Luckily, Luis understood what I meant when I said Soccer instead of Football. Which name came first, was it soccer or football? In Arabic Soccer sounds like they are saying: kurit awl-kah-dah-me. When I checked the translation I used soccer, but I wonder if I should have used football instead.

We walked outside and started walking in the direction of the main east-west boulevard, but he never asked where we were going. We kept talking and walking as the sun went down and the stars came out and finally we crossed the boulevard and sat down on a bus-stop bench. I had a wad of Euros in my pocket so when the bus rolled up I gestured for him to follow and I paid for two transfers and we took seats and the bus took off towards my side of Tangier. I bought us all-day bus tickets, they expired in 23 hours. We didn't talk much on the bus but we sat side by side with our shoulders touching. If we'd been in a bus in Houston I might have held his hand.

It took 36 minutes to make it to my stop, after the bus left we sprinted across the wide boulevard and he laughed that my apartment building had a KFC on the first floor. We stood silently by the elevator door then got in and rode to the 9th floor and down the hallway and I unlocked the door, Luis silently walked to my living room window. My window has a great view of the walled city and you can see across the strait and the lights from Spain. When I came out of the bathroom he turned and smiled and told me he loved the view. I walked up beside him and Luis spun around and quickly used the toilet too but left the door open, he flushed and washed his hands and rejoined me at the window. I've seen this view daily for almost two years now; I would have rather watched him piss than the city lights and the very dark beach down below.

While we were standing side by side looking out the windows he asked what the box was stuck to the glass and I told him it was a weather station that links to my computer over Bluetooth. It was recording temperature and barometric pressure every fifteen minutes. He gave me a raised-eyebrow look which I think means he didn't care to hear about it.

We stood there and talked for a while then I went across the room and turned on my small radio to a Spanish country music network station and he said he listened to it at home too. Finally the view got boring and I invited him to join me on the sofa. I sat against one end after taking off my shoes and socks, he did the same. Then I pulled a bed sheet over our legs and we were in the same position that Dan and I used often. When he tried to straighten his legs and get comfortable I grabbed one of his legs and moved his foot between my legs to rest the bottom of his foot directly on my dick. He left my feet on either side of his hips.

I'm 36 years old now and in all those years anyone I sat facing on the sofa and had my foot resting on their dick always ended with his dick in my mouth. It requires both guys to sit with legs spread wide while trusting each other not to cause injury and he can rub your dick with his foot or hold perfectly still. I guess for most guys touching dick with feet doesn't count, but it certainly breaks the ice. We talked about general things including Tangier and Madrid, his classes, and the economy.

The apartment was dark except for what came in from the street lights outside and it was cool, maybe 61 degrees and dropping. After about ten minutes Luis picked up one of my legs and set my foot between his thighs too and positioned the bottom of my foot directly against his dick too. But not too long after that I had to piss and while I was up I asked if he wanted a beer and Luis said "Si Senior!" After I flushed I got him a bottle and a glass and removed the cap. He said we should share it (as in both of us drinking from one bottle). He grabbed the bottle and guzzled part of it. So I took a swallow then handed it back to him and he did the same and set the bottle on the coffee table.

As I got ready to sit back down on the sofa I tossed the sheet over the backrest and sat down, he bent his knees to make room and parked his feet beside my hips again so I moved one of his feet back between my legs, then I straightened my legs and he did the same with one of mine. A few moments later he moved his foot like he was rubbing my crotch, so I used my foot to pet his like it was the head of a dog. For a while I rubbed his foot like a massage then pressed back against me so he could feel my erection.

Luis leaned forward and pulled off his t-shirt. His t-shirt had some kind of band logo I never saw before and couldn't really read, I think it was Portuguese. But once his shirt cleared his body I saw them, his two dark reddish-brown round flat nipples, nearly three inches across. He had like no muscles on his chest and was shaped like a 5th grade school girl and was perfectly hairless, like me. My dick immediately responded. Even his arm pits were hairless. He almost acted like he's embarrassed by his chest when he pulled his shirt off. His cheeks even blushed a little, which looked cute on him. Holy shit was that hot watching him pull his shirt off, then the big reveal. Wow!

I told him he had beautiful tits and he said he hated `em, he constantly got in trouble being shirtless in public, so he can't do it in Tangier because of the modesty police. He said other guys with tiny red dots for tits hate him, and women make comments that he shouldn't walk around shirtless in public. Luis said he liked it when people stared at his chest in the locker room at the gym. But he said it felt so nice not having a shirt on, he thought I wouldn't be offended. I chuckled at his comment.

His belly button was a vertical oval hole and it went inward and his belly looked exactly like a girl's. He was hairless and super sexy. His body had a soft rounded appearance. I could feel wetness in my underwear. I wanted to make my clothes instantly disappear, but that only happens in the movies or TV shows like I Dream of Jeannie. I reached up and unbuttoned my shirt all the way down and spread it wide open. He watched closely.

I wanted to ask him about his hair, how much time he spent on it daily, but I was struggling inside with what I wanted to say. So finally I got down to business and simply asked him if I could suck his dick and he laughed and said of course, like it was silly to even ask. `You're wasting time dude, we ain't got all night!' I assumed he needed to get back before his Abuelo woke up around 4am when the drugs wore off.

So I stood up and pulled off my shirt and jeans but kept my boxers on with the wet spot. I stood by the sofa and pointed to the spot and he laughed as he got to his feet and pulled off his jeans and shorts and sat back down (naked) with his erect dick proudly pointing at the ceiling.

I was a little anxious because this was going to be the first un-cut dick in my mouth. I got between his knees and lowered my face to his crotch and kissed the side of his dick and sniffed it several times but I detected no odor other than the same type of scent every human has in their crotch. He had his own unique scent, just like me and everyone else. And his penis head did not look slimy wet either. I retracted his foreskin and ran my hand all over his head and it felt clean and dry, not cheesy and slimy.

When I grabbed the shaft his foreskin did not extend beyond the tip of his head, it only partially covered his head, which was a dark red Darth Vader helmet shape, nearly identical to mine. I think Luis had a bit of a mushroom head too, meaning the head of his dick was visibly wider than the shaft. There was something about mushroom heads that turned me on. And I think the head is the most beautiful part, but not so much if it's hidden under the foreskin.

I slid his foreskin down and put it to my mouth and touched it with my tongue and it tasted fine so I took his head in my mouth and worked it with great care and Luis instantly froze and deeply sighed. I hoped I wasn't working him too hard. A couple times he flinched all his muscles like I gave him a shock then told me I was fine, ignore his twitches. I got the impression his dick was rather low mileage so I would need to use a less intense technique on him.

At a whisper I asked, "Have you ever had a professional-grade blow job before?"

Luis smiled and looked in my eyes then slightly nodded `no.' I whispered that I would be gentle but it would still be intense.

My intuition told me I should tread lightly on his tender young erection, but I wanted this one to be something he'd remember forever. I looked at his shaft just inches from my face and decided it could be the longest dick I ever swallowed. I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax and focus on the task. Luis was leaned back on the sofa, his feet on the floor, I was between his legs with his boner in my hands and both us were naked, except I had underwear on. In this moment I had total control over him and had his most secret body parts fully on display directly in front of me. We were nearly at maximum intimacy. As part of my mental preparation for turning off my gag reflex I closed my eyes and lowered my head to calm my thoughts. When I did that I got poked by his head in the middle of my forehead which made both of us flinch, then I instinctively whispered "Sorry."

Once I got mentally calmed I got into position with my eyes closed I slowly lowered my face again and started taking him inside my mouth. He gently rested his hands on my shoulders at the same moment. I tried to become limp and melt on his lap and he exhaled deep and long and he sort of tried to relax his entire body, he tried to slink down a little deeper into the sofa with his dick now far inside my mouth. For a short time we were joined in bliss, he obviously never had someone take all seven inches of his dick in their mouth before, never had real deep-throat before.

It took me a while to let it crawl further down my throat without gagging, then I felt his lower belly touch the tip of my nose, then my lips came into contact with his flesh around the base of his dick. I sighed and tried to totally relax my body and he started gently rubbing my shoulders and the sides of my skull. At that moment his boner was fully inside my head and my face was against his lower baby soft belly. I even felt razor stubble on my forehead and the tip of my nose.

His dick was about as thick as your average bratwurst and perfectly straight, and it stuck out like a flag pole which made it perfect for sucking. He shaved his dick and the base but not his balls, I think his taint and crack were also somewhat furry but the rest of him was recently shaved.

Both of us were completely relaxed then Luis whispered, `Oh man, that feels so good, I'm coming.' I thought that was odd because I wasn't moving at all but the head of his dick was way down my throat, on some guys that is such a strong sensation they'll orgasm without any movement. About the only difference between deep throat and tight pussy is the temperature, pussy is warmer, but mouth has a movable tongue.

I put my hands on his belly and tried to stay focused. Luis started to moan deeply and wiggled a little, and then he stroked my hair with his fingertips. I slid my hands up his sides and gently rubbed my thumbs across his very wide areolas (pronounced: ah REE lah). About two minutes later I felt twitches in his groin then he started coming, but it all went down my throat like a non-stop flight. I never tasted him but I felt the squirts. He groaned when his orgasm started and tried to hump my mouth a little but I just stayed perfectly limp on his lap, then it was over and he re-started combing my hair with his fingertips, so I very slowly started to pull off. He begged me to move slowly because his dick was extremely tender. I paused for about one minute to let him calm down then slowly started to back my mouth off his erection.

When his head cleared my lips he had a long silvery thin string stretched between his pee hole and my lower lip, we both stared at it but he reached down and broke it. Then I Iooked up and saw he had a pained expression on his face that quickly switched to happy. He slid his fingers around my face and whispered that was beyond great, it was the first deep throat blow job he ever had, he didn't even think anyone could take all seven inches down the throat. And I swallowed all his come, which was also amazing. He swore it was the best oral sex he's had in his life. He even had tears running down his cheeks into his front side! He actually got emotional saying it.

I sat up on my knees on the floor between his thighs and leaned down and lifted his dick and kissed the head and gently licked it several times (his semen was bland but salty, like mine) and he watched closely and smiled. I slid my hand up over his tummy and rubbed all over his belly button but since I didn't know him I never pushed a finger inside, then I moved my hand to his chest and slid my fingers around and around on his very large flat areolas and the tiny lump in the middle. He took in a deep breath as I felt his silky skin and let it out while watching my hands.

I reached over and grabbed the beer bottle and took a large swallow then whispered, "Can I suck your tits?" Luis raised his legs, spun sideways, and stretched out on the sofa so he was flat on his back and gestured for me to come to him, so I gently slid on top and lowered my face to his chest and with my lips pressed wide apart I gently latched-on his tit and slightly sucked it in my mouth while he hugged my head and upper body to his like I was a baby drinking his milk. I was careful not to suck too hard so I didn't give him a bruise but I stayed on his tit for probably 15 minutes and rubbed the other one with the other hand and finally let go of his big tit. My dick was still fully erect and had a long string of pre-come with the other end stuck to his leg.

Luis has wider areolas than probably a quarter of the women in the world, he hates that but they're definitely an added benefit, just like Dan's chest. He really has a flat chest and I guess he's probably shaped nearly the same as he was when he started puberty at age 12. I bet he will never join a gym and start lifting weights to maintain his Femboy appearance.

He got off the sofa and moved me into his position and got between my legs and blew me while working my dick with one hand and kept my head in his mouth and I think I lasted about two minutes and warned him. He pulled off and finished me by hand and I spurted across my stomach and chest, we both were amazed by how much fluid came out. I groaned a bit louder than him when it started until the last squirt. After it was done my body had several `aftershocks' that made him pull back like I was having a seizure. He said he never saw that before. I told him when I had a strong orgasm my body had aftershocks. I lay on the sofa briefly with a lot of semen splattered across my stomach and chest, maybe a few drops on my arms and neck too.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked at a whisper and he replied, "Yes please."

Luis offered me his hand and pulled me up to standing and stepped into me, I closed my eyes, and we full French kissed for a couple minutes, his kissing style was wonderful. And during that time I slid my hands all over his back side, including his crack. I tried to play with is hair, it was very thick and almost felt too wonderful to be real, but his coal black hair was thick and natural. I pulled back off his mouth and whispered that `...most women pray for hair like yours.'

"Uh that's not true, they pray for thick long hair but not shiny black like the feathers of a Crow, they want thick blonde hair. Nobody likes my hair but gay men." I laughed at his answer but perhaps it was true. Either way it was thick and wonderful and I loved feeling it. Then I pulled him back into me and pulled the side of his head into my face and deeply inhaled with my nose in his hair, he smelled of flowery shampoo. I thought to myself this boy must spend a lot of time trying to look pretty. I was kind of surprised his fingernails weren't painted too. And the fact that his body was perfectly natural was wonderful, no tats, no piercings except tiny diamonds on his ears.

Assuming he had to pee as much as me I got up off the sofa and offered him a hand and we went to the bathroom, he pissed while I turned on the shower and set the knobs and got out a second towel. He stood in back and I took the front position. I assumed he did not want to wet his hair since it took a while to dry and style. I washed the smears of semen off our bodies, I also hand soaped and washed his dick and balls and turned him around and carefully hand washed between his shapely butt cheeks, he really was shaped like a girl, nice and smooth and round except for a rather large dick and balls in front. After Luis I did myself, and while I was doing that he got out of the shower and dried off. I was about one minute behind him.

After showers we went back to the window but he closed it because it was downright cold outside and smelled like it might rain soon. While he stood facing the windows I stood behind him with my face against his back and ran my hands up and down his body and with one finger I closely circled his belly button and nearly pressed inside it but stopped short, my other hand was gently rubbing his left nipple and Luis softly said he should get back to his grandfather soon. I turned and looked at the clock it was 11:53pm.

I whispered that we should get dressed quickly, a bus would soon be here. Within two minutes we were exiting the elevator outside the closed KFC restaurant, then outside to the bus stop. A mile down the road to the east I saw the roof lights of a bus, one always went by here around midnight. We sat there on the bench in the dark as rain started to fall but our bus stop had a roof, we pulled our feet back and two minutes later the bus came to a stop and we got on board, I used our transfers. (Transfer is an American name for a mass transit ticket good multiple rides).

We sat down in back and tried to talk. There were only two other passengers on the bus, one looked like a plain clothes cop. We rode across town, I pointed to the area where my office was but he never asked what I did. The place where his grandfather lived was only like five miles west of my office. When I told him I thought he'd at least say something like `I thought you were a pilot?' Or at least he should ask if I was Private Pilot rated what was I doing flying a private jet with a passenger?

We rode almost to the airport and got off near the cafe and started walking north. I wanted to hold his hand since it was dark out. Up ahead I saw the cafe which was closed for the night. I bumped into him a few times just to make contact and a couple times I reached over and gently patted his butt, but he never said anything. Most people here are afraid of running into modesty police so they won't do anything (even slightly gay) in public. When we got to the cafe I gestured for him to follow me and we walked around the parking lot to the back side of the building. Everything was dark and quiet. I pulled him into me and we kissed again for maybe 15 seconds then pulled apart, I had my hands on his shoulders, he said that was nice.' We walked back to the sidewalk and kept going north toward the apartment buildings. We passed a few of the buildings and came to the first one near the sidewalk. Luis said this is where Abuelo lives, I gotta go.' He gestured to the high rise building directly in front of us. It had a building name sign high on the wall but it was in Arabic. I think most of them had numbers as names.

I thanked him for a wonderful evening, he said, "I had a great time too, nice to see you again."

I said, "I hope we can do this again." And he said he had no idea what was going to happen with his grandfather, and I told him I understood, then repeated that I'd love to do it again and he smiled and said, `Yah, and me.' Then Luis said I could probably visit him in Madrid too sometime. But his biggest problem is school takes-up all his time, and when he gets a four day weekend his family makes him take his turn staying with Abuelo. They tell him he can bring his books down here and watch Grandpa and catch up on his reading.

After an awkward hand shake we left in opposite directions, I got about ten feet and stopped and told him if he ever wanted to come down he was welcome to stay at my place, maybe get time away from school and family, he should considered himself invited. All he has to do is fly down to Tangier and I'd take care of the rest. He smiled and said thanks, he'd try to get away sometime to visit again. I remember hearing people talk like that when I was in college. When you're the student under the burden of 500lbs of homework and 200lbs of time to study you get that attitude toward invitations. It's sort of like how you feel when people give you a nice book to read as a Christmas gift while you are in college drowning under tons of homework.

The entire evening our conversation was in Spanish and he never once asked if it was my primary language, so I guess I'm pretty good now, I've had a lot of practice. Sometimes Dan and Jen and I talk in Spanish too. I think Luis also spoke a few phases in Arabic, like enough to order a burger and a beer.

On the bus ride home Luis texted me and said he's never orgasmed that hard before, his nuts felt sore. I wonder if that was why he seemed unemotional when we parted. I suspect Luis was rather sexually inexperienced, he's only 19 years old. I may have done too much too soon. But most guys will admit that coming down a man's throat feels better than pussy. The only down side I know of about fucking someone's mouth instead of a vagina is you can usually bang a vagina pretty hard, but you really can't do that to someone's mouth or you'll trigger a gag reflex.

You can miss a lot of pleasure when you hand-pump yourself to an orgasm. Some guys say its better if you leave your dick perfectly alone once the orgasm starts so you can actually feel it work. I think that was part of Luis' problem. He'd never come hands-free before or knew it was possible, and he was having prostate pain from working too hard. Maybe I should have warned him. I got back home around 2am and went to bed, but it took almost an hour until I fell asleep. I tried to wank in bed but I couldn't get hard either.

I got to thinking about Luis and his long boner. I've asked guys with foreskins if they jerk off with the skin extended or retracted and all of them said with it extended. So they have a layer of flesh between their head and their hand. When I jerk-off my palm is in direct contact with my head. I wonder sometimes if that means that we skinless men need to be gentler on skinned dicks because they have never really had direct contact with flesh. I wonder what percentage of isolation the foreskin provides to the penis head, how much tactile sense they lose because there is a layer of flesh protecting the head? I have never heard someone with a foreskin compare jerking with the skin extended versus retracted. How much difference does it make? I suspect there is some difference but not a huge amount. I'm not an expert because I have no way to compare before and after. None of us get to choose anyway. When I was born nearly all newly born boys were cut. It is something that the parents agree to during their first pre-natal visit with the baby doc.

Have you ever seen a newborn infant get circumcised? The baby gets strapped into something like a plastic car seat and that is what makes them cry, most do not react to the actual procedure.

Contact the author by email: borischenaz mailfence