Holiday in Heaven
story codes: M/B, oral, anal
DISCLAIMER
This story is fantasy and should be treated as such!
I don't condone or encourage the actions depicted in this story whether legal or not. This story depicts sexual acts between a grown man and a teen boy, if this offends you, do NOT read on.
Holiday in heaven =================
Marooned as it were, stranded in this country. But what a country to get stranded in: the favourite holiday destination of many rich westerners and even more not-very-rich westerners with all the mass-tourism that entails. Fortunately, the country was big enough to accommodate all these tourists and my ship had had the good taste of needing repairs just before the official tourist season started. My ship and also my livelihood, since I make a living by shipping freight along the coast of this continent. Any freight that fits the cargo hold and has a tinge of legality to it. Its a living, but not really much more, so the fees that the local companies ask for 'rushing' are an impossibility. That means that mending a relatively simple engine problem like the one plaguing my ship, takes at least a week. Happy circumstance, then, that a week of holidaying in this country is ridiculously cheap, even when renting a car (a premium model, with a chance of the wheels staying on), much cheaper than the decidedly westernised bribes the wharfs ask. So I had a week's holiday ahead, plus a promise of cargo when I got back. I also knew the company I left my ship with well enough to know that I would get her back in one piece.
This country is popular for a host of reasons: low, low prices, friendly populace and even friendlier climate, though a little hot in summer, and absolutely stunning scenery. Oh, and sexy-as-hell-people everywhere. These people... Young women and men, girls and boys, all are visions of olive-skinned perfection running around and smiling at you. Now, I fancy pretty much the varieties mentioned above with a slight emphasis on women and boys. Then again, I am not an outgoing person, so getting somewhere with these people was never likely, but I am usually content with some conversation, a smile here and there and sometimes a little fantasy afterwards. At the end of the first day of trekking in the vicinity of the port I found myself near a beautiful beach where, unfortunately, the people hadn't discovered the joys of tourism yet, so there was nowhere I could stay. I parked my car near the beach at a secluded spot and just stayed the night there. The closet romantic in me contemplated sleeping on the beach, but the part of me that cared for my health warned that it was much too cold for that, the nights were still a bit chilly at this time of year. The romantic lost and I laid the car seat back as far as it would go and made myself comfortable. Fantasies of the pretty boys and girls I'd seen wandering around were propping up and making me horny. I picked – at random – a pretty girl and made up the features I hadn't seen and couldn't guess and imagined her in the car next to me, naked and willing, pining for my by now rock hard cock. I started stroking and followed the fantasy unto the climax. I gathered my sperm with a handkerchief and stepped out of the car to throw it away and have a piss. At that moment a shadow sped past me, rummaged through the car and made a quick getaway. Attempted one, at least, because I was quicker and ended up with a wriggling creature desperately trying to escape my firm grasp. I yelled at him: “what the hell do you think you're doing, you little bastard?” He squeaked something about being alone and wandering and needing to eat. Only then did it dawn on me that I was holding onto a young boy! What I could make out looked and felt about thirteen or fourteen, but the people here mature a little later, so he was probably a little older. I also only now noticed the almost fluorescent yellow shorts the little bugger was wearing. I relaxed my grip for a second, shocked by my discovery, and he wriggled away, then scuttled as fast as he could toward the bushes. There he stood and looked around, at me, although I could only faintly make out his profile and the glints of moonlight in his eyes, so he may have been looking at the weak points of my car or something. It felt however, as if he was eyeing me. I made a move toward him and he darted off into the landscape, which he would know infinitely better than me, so a pursuit was useless. He hadn't managed to steal anything so what would I do to him anyway? Maybe rape him? The thought only entered my mind for a second, but the twitch in my crotch was immediate and noticeable. I took a few deep breaths to shake off the excitement and stray thoughts. I tried to, but couldn't quite shake off the mixture of amazement and annoyance that I felt at having been surprised by a thief in fluorescent yellow shorts... I got back into the car, locked the doors carefully and settled in the seat to get some sleep.
The next day I drove off along the coast and felt a distinct moron when I discovered, not a half hour from where I had spent the night, the loveliest of beaches and ample tourist accommodation. From charming hotels in the centre of the nearby village to large camp-sites, either inland or just behind the beach, everything was there. I decided to check into a neat but somewhat nondescript hotel near the beach (when on land, I have the habit of trying to leave as little trace of me as I possibly can, unless I want to leave a trace). After freshening up and taking a look at the local tourist information (not much, some nice churches and one ruin, but a nice landscape and a very nice beach) I ventured out to the beach. There was only one access road and it was crowded even though it wasn't the tourist season yet. The public was mixed as if it was summer: older couples getting away from caring for their grandchildren, families with children of all ages, from toddlers to teenagers, older teenagers in groups or couples and even a few singles, like me. I walked away from the road entrance by the sea, already feeling soothed and calmed by the sound of the waves crashing into the beach. As I walked, I noticed a few people who were completely naked, their number increasing as I went further, although the beach itself got quieter. After probably a few miles, I steered inland and picked a spot near the dunes. The sun was still hot, so I removed my shirt, spread out the beach towel I'd brought and lay down. Distant cries and voices, the waves still discernible but only barely, screeching seagulls overhead made sure I dozed off ever so slightly. I awoke again and sat up a little to have a look around the still pretty quiet beach, although there were people to be seen in every direction. On this part of the beach they were made up of largely the same mix as on the rest of the beach, only naked. A bit more families, sometimes with only one of them truly nude, but there were also teenagers in groups who I supposed were raised in naturist families and carried on the tradition, much to my enjoyment. The shyness of the sixteen to twenty-year-olds (roughly) who were conscious of being naked and the fact that they were on display for everyone (that they were, they certainly were) made them even more adorable than fit, healthy, naked teenagers already are. A good number of girls and even a few boys, I noticed to my excitement, had their pubes shaved completely bald. I took in the sights eagerly, but tried to look casual, to not raise suspicions. Sometimes people would walk by who were unmistakably of local stock, young men, women and boys in various states of undress up until complete nudity, most of them as utterly beautiful as they came around here. It was impossible to make out if this was their holiday also, or if they were making a living of some kind here (whatever form that could take). There were some pretty girls around whom I found difficult not to ogle, some of them giving the distinct impression that they were very interested in the foreign flesh around. Some young men and boys strutted their stuff, seemingly not caring whether they were being ogled by men or women. One boy caught the attention more than the others as he casually ambled along in the nude, carrying a backpack on one shoulder. He was probably fifteen or sixteen, but looked more like fourteen. Lanky but not awkwardly so, just discernible muscles visibly working as he moved along. You could see he had been sitting in the sand because it had stuck to the back of his calves, his buttocks and his lower back, emphasizing his perfect physique, the arch of his back and the rounding of the buttocks. He was completely smooth and hairless, something not everyone appreciates (although I certainly do) but at this moment, nobody thought of complaining. I was absolutely mesmerized by his appearance and very happy that I was wearing loose fitting shorts that did a heroic task of hiding my crotch. I was not the only eager onlooker: he was having a profound effect on just about everybody on the beach, women ogling, men and boys quickly turning onto their bellies to hide their excitement. God he was sexy, a fact only aggravated by the fact that not only the whole beach was getting horny for him, but that his own penis seemed not to be entirely flaccid any more... Damn. Perfect boy, perfect age, perfect fantasy. That shouldn't be real. A fantasy of illicit sex shouldn't be walking around the beach, especially not if I was there and most certainly not naked. There was no fighting it: I had to keep looking, watching him walk around aimlessly, seemingly circling my location, then stopping at some distance on a empty spot, well within view of me and about two dozen other people who were equally mesmerised, to the point of being embarrassing. At least he wouldn't be breaking any marriages: men, women and their children alike were staring at him dumbfounded. Without much fuss he sat down on the hot sand without bothering with a towel.
He had rather carelessly plunked down the backpack and I noticed something sticking out of it, something yellow or rather fluorescent yellow... The exact yellow I had so embarrassingly completely missed last night. The realisation unleashed a powerful mix of emotions upon me: I was still immeasurably attracted to him, my penis doing its very best to rip my shorts apart, but I was also feeling a great anger at his... impudence. I couldn't even quite make out what made me so angry. The emotional overload rendered me incapable of doing anything, so I lay back down and looked at the sky trying to sort out my feelings. I had been humiliated by some kid who had crept up to me unseen with the equivalent of a large arrow pointing at him stating “robber” flashing red and yellow. Then again, that same little shit turned out to be the most perfect, beautiful and downright sexy creature I (and the beach along with me) had ever seen. I calmed my breath and told myself that everybody gets mugged sometimes and in more embarrassing situations than pissing in the middle of the night. Plus he probably did have to eat, as he'd squeaked when I had him. I sat up again flashing a glance at him just in time to see him look away with a slight jerk of his head. Then I looked around the beach, its occupants still mesmerised, then back at him. He repeated the same gesture. Had he recognised me? Was he sorry? Or did he want to gloat at how easily he had gotten to me? It was time to make a decision, so I made one and stood up. The residue of anger in me was probably still visible on my face and the boy looked at me with some apprehension as I marched toward him purposefully. At the same time I thought I saw glimpses of the same fascination that the rest of the beach had for him, but I reckoned I was kidding myself.
“Hi.”
“Hello, sir.”
He replied in a surprisingly hoarse voice.
“That was you, last night wasn't it? Trying to steal my stuff?”
He started, inhaled a sharp breath and looked at me without answering. I suddenly realised that the police in this country was notoriously harsh and that even an alleged robbery without witnesses could get him into very much trouble. I felt a little sorry for him, although the sight of a slightly panting, visibly scared and very naked sixteen-year-old cherub was almost enough to make me faint. My penis, which had softened considerably before, was growing again rapidly. The boy was still unable to produce an answer, looking positively petrified. I softened my stance a little, kneeled down (giving my shorts a little more chance of hiding my excitement) and tried to comfort him:
“All right, calm down now, nobody's going to the police.”
He relaxed and exhaled, relieved, but my darker side took control:
“yet.”
He tensed up again. Oh dear, I was enjoying this a little too much, exerting this much control over such an unbelievably sexy creature. I made a friendlier face and asked him out of the blue if he wanted to sit next to me. His smile almost split his face in half, highlighting the twinkles in his dark eyes and curling up the tip of his button nose. He got up and we started toward my towel. Maybe it was the fear, but his penis was growing noticeably, something not lost on the rest of the beach goers. I was beginning to sport a definite tent myself, also not lost on the others, making their glances almost viciously jealous. We managed to strike up a conversation, exchanging names – his was Santiago – and nationalities. I was just trying to explain what I did for a living without sounding too creepy or destitute when I heard Santiago gasp. He had only now dared to look at my crotch and noticed the big bulge. To my amazement the swelling in his own penis immediately blossomed into a full, throbbing five-and-a-half inch erection. This was getting more surreal by the minute: the most beautiful creature I had seen in a long, long time not only was in a position to be blackmailed by me, this walking image of seduction was horny for me! Gasping for breath, he assured me that he was very sorry for what he'd done and that he'd do anything to make amends. All this was almost making me orgasm right then and there, so I was glad we reached my towel giving me the chance to take a sip of my water and momentarily focus on the dunes in the background. Santiago knelt beside me with a raging hard on which was getting a little wet at the tip. He smiled and gladly accepted the bottle when I passed it to him. Without thinking too much about it I started to wipe the sand off his back, which he took as an invitation to sit closer and guide my hand lower and lower. He lifted his bum and I softly patted off the sand, closing in on the valley between his buttocks. He was a little sweaty, so I had to rub a little harder to remove the sand, occasionally touching his puckered hole. Santiago was panting and moaning, his dick seeming ready to explode, leaking pre cum, throbbing and quivering. This was going too far for a public beach, so I stopped and suggested we head for my hotel. He agreed immediately and we rested a bit, trying to tame the raging lust we both felt and eventually got up and left, Santiago putting on his garish shorts.
The hotel staff had obviously seen this before: tourist leaves on his own and comes back with young local. They'd probably seen it with all sexes and ages and what's more: they didn't mind. They didn't give Santiago the 'you've fallen' look and they didn't look disapprovingly at me; in fact, we got quite a few admiring smiles. We darted upstairs and put up the 'do not disturb' sign. Santiago was out of his shorts before he was out of the corridor, throbbing erection glistening with pre cum and that same irresistible smile splitting his adorable face and curling up his nose even further. I pulled him close and kissed his forehead, lips and neck. My hands ran over his warm skin appreciating the flawless smoothness. They reached his buttocks and spread them. Santiago gasped when my fingers explored the smooth, warm, sweaty valley and found the grand prize. My index finger and middle finger opened him as he moaned and wriggled like a being enjoying himself immensely. I turned him round and started again from the top, feeling the smooth chest and flat belly moving rapidly with his panting. He moaned again as I pinched his nipples, a little harder than I'd otherwise have done. He let me fondle his balls and penis for a little while but seemed more interested in my hands slightly tormenting his nipples and working his ass. He turned back, smiled while looking me in the eyes with those black peepers of his and sank to his knees. His fingers grasped the waist band of my swimming trunks and pulled, revealing my own throbbing boner. Santiago's smile grew even wider and, looking at me from below, he opened his mouth and moved forward toward my crotch. Now it was my turn to gasp as his warm, willing mouth and quick tongue engulfed my dick. With amazement, I saw him taking more and more into his mouth until I felt the tip reach his throat and he started gagging. Then he moved even further, gagging and with tears forming in his eyes. He looked at me again, face pressed against my pubic bone, tears forming in his eyes and I looked back, filled with lust. Slowly, he moved his mouth back and forth, sending shivers up my spine and making me groan. I had to slow him down to avoid coming right then and there. I decided I wanted him entirely mine with the very first fuck, so I eased out of his mouth and stood him up. I placed him on the bed on all fours, tight, adorable ass facing me and climbed on behind him. By this time, he could have turned and yelled “no”, a herd of raging bulls could have come charging though the room: I wouldn't have been fazed. I positioned the tip of my gleaming penis against the puckered hole and without thinking, pushed. Hard. The feeling of the hot, tight hole gripping my rock hard pole, engulfing it was incredible. So incredible that it took me a while to notice that Santiago's moans had changed form pleasurable to painful. He struggled a little and it struck me that he wasn't used to this. It surprised me, as I'd assumed that his expert blow job meant that he'd been with men before and had gone all the way. I stopped moving momentarily and asked if he was alright. By the time I was finished asking, however, my raging lust forced me to start moving again. Instead of answering, Santiago moaned, groaned and struggled with my penis invading him, possessing him, raping him. Part of me wanted to go slow and give him some time to adjust, but a bigger part was a horny animal right now, so I continued fucking him. His tight ass gripped my penis very tightly, so I told him to relax and pretend he was having a dump, push as it were. Santiago groaned and turned his wet face toward me but tried to comply. It worked and I could move a little more freely and faster. I was getting near my climax now, so I moved faster and fucked deeper until the feelings overtook me, engulfed me like they had rarely before. I let out a loud “aaaahhh”, pushed all the way in and came. I was actually dizzy and seeing stars as I collapsed onto the bed, Santiago crawling up next to me pressing his sweaty body against me and regarding me with his teary eyes. It took me a little time to gather my strength, but then a wave of guilt and concern hit me. I said sorry to Santiago, stroking his back and asking if I'd hurt him badly. He smiled and said that it had hurt – more than he could have imagined, but that it was also the most incredible experience ever and that he had come the second I had entered him. I had noticed that he had come but in my delirium, hadn't seen it happen. As he pressed against me to assure me he was alright, I promised to be a little gentler next time.
When I woke up a little later Santiago wasn't there. I looked around, sleep disappearing from my system and concern setting in. I checked that my luggage was still here and started for my backpack to check my wallet as I noticed Santiago's backpack right next to it. Only his yellow shorts were missing. I settled back and waited. Pretty soon, the door opened and he entered, carrying a paper bag and a tray with two glasses: the boy had been fetching dinner. He smiled his irresistible smile as he put down dinner on the small table and immediately removed his shorts. His penis was growing again as he invited me. I got up, all smiles and relief, kissed him, stroked his naked form and settled down in one of the chairs. He sat opposite to me and I unpacked the food, which he'd apparently bought in one of he local shops selling the ever popular (with tourists) 'national dish'. It turned out to be surprisingly good and as I told him so, he said – all the while eating as furiously as he'd been sucking my dick – that he knew the best places. Or at least, the places that were kindest to him, he added with a shy smile. I must have looked puzzled because he began to explain that there were a few shops where the owner treated him civilly, without trying to double cross him or have him do certain... things. So I replied that I thought that he had done certain things already, to which he assured me that he had only done the mouth thing. To earn money. I nodded in understanding. We finished eating and I invited him with me for a little coffee. He nodded enthusiastically and we went down to the bar. Santiago told me a little more about his life: his parents had died a long time ago and although he had some relatives near here, no-one had room, money, or the inclination to care for him, so he basically lived on the street, occasionally bunking at one of his relatives and doing odd jobs to get by. He ran errants for the shops, gave guided tours, occasionally tried to steal things, but rarely succeeded. While he said this, anxiety returned to his face and he looked at me for a reaction, but I remained blank. Partly because it took me a while to get the reference, partly because the evil streak that had enjoyed to see him struggle on the beach still held sway over me. He swallowed and continued his story, not daring to ask me directly about our unfortunate first acquaintance. Occasionally, he said lowering his voice, he did tourists some sexual favours, but only with his mouth. As he said this, a skewered smile broke on his lips, and he continued by telling me that he had mainly done this for men. He had been attracted to men over women or girls for a long time now and fantasized about having a relationship and having a man... posses him, as he called it. Suddenly his attitude changed as he seemed to think he'd gone to far. I smiled to put him at ease and he asked me in a little voice how I felt about boys his age. I confessed that they turned me on, something that made a smile break loose on his face again, but that I also fancied women. He asked me if I'd been with women and I answered truthfully that I'd slept with several, but that it had never amounted to something more long-term. Partly this was because of my life and work, always moving and doing odd jobs to get by.
Back in my room, we settled in for the night. Santiago pressed his naked form against me again and confessed with a genuinely worried look on his face that he'd used some of my money to buy the dinner we'd had. I answered that I had already surmised as much and that I didn't really mind, although he really should ask next time. He assured me he would then broke out in a huge smile when I suggested that we should be able to trust each other if maybe he was to stay with me. We slept like roses that night.