Just for a change, this is a true tale.
TUNISIAN HOLIDAY
Just short of my 29th birthday I decided to go to Tunisia for one Christmas & New Year. The hotel I was staying in was quite far out of Tunis. I had a room with its own bathroom & shower. The food there was 1st Class, help-yourself buffet at lunch and dinner with local wines, beers and soft drinks all included. Breakfast was all kinds of eggs, cooked to order with mushrooms, sausages, and other local delicacies plus very good coffee or tea. On top of all that food at meals, there was free tea and coffee with cakes & biscuits every morning at about 11AM. With so much food it was easy to eat far too much. On some days I joined other hotel guests, going with a guide who spoke good English, French & German to see what was left of Carthage and on some other days out in a minibus to visit other places of interest, sometimes having a meal included. There was also a free hotel minibus for anyone who wanted to go into Tunis to explore it & its famous museum, going back to the hotel some hours later in time for a wash before the dinner meal.
From the hotel was a path leading to a long sandy beach, several miles long, overlooking the Mediterranean, where I often went for a walk in afternoons. The weather was warm enough but not enough to tempt me to go for a swim. The beach was usually deserted except for sometimes other hotel guests.
One afternoon when I went for a walk on the beach, I spotted some small fishing-boats drawn up under a kind of makeshift shelter, so I went closer to have a look, being given a cheerful wave by a young fellow who was mending some fishing-nets. I'd seen enough of local people to realise that some Tunisians were very pale-skinned. This one was really brown except for the palms of his hands. He was wearing what looked like old jeans cut off below the knee & a T-shirt, with ordinary flip-flops on his bare feet. I supposed he was in his late teens or early twenties: with a little beard on his chin & some more hair on his face. In one ear he had a small gold earring. After trying speaking to him in French which I knew fairly well, I gave up when he shook his head and just went on watching him mending the nets.
Without any kind of warning, he stopped what he was doing. All of a sudden he turned towards me, giving a grin & a big wink before dropping his jeans down round his ankles. I saw he had nothing on under them. Before that, I'd never seen a Tunisian cock. Like most locals he was circumcised. I would reckon his was thick & good size, certainly over six inches as he fingered it and it got hard, sticking straight up. He was really hairy there, with a thick dark bush and hair on his balls. From the way he was going about it, one hand under his hairy balls, licking his lips, spitting on his wanking hand to make up for having no foreskin, I guessed he'd had plenty of practice at it.
Just watching him getting his cock stiff gave me something of a hard-on. He gestured towards my trousers, meaning that he wanted to see my cock. Taking his hint I undid my belt, then let trousers & my underpants fall down round my ankles. When I did that, he took a step closer. I wasn't circumcised, so supposed he'd never seen a cock like mine. Even when I was really hard, my foreskin was so long & loose that I could easily pull it all the way back and forwards again so that it nearly covered the swollen top. He was clearly fascinated, wanting to touch mine, pulling my foreskin up & down. I let him do it but when he bent down like to suck it, I wouldn't let him and both of us just went on wanking, watching each other.
I should say here & now that I'd long got over daily teenage wanking, still doing it now and again when I felt like it. My last wank was before I left for Tunisia and I'd been at the hotel for 9 days, so when I began wanking, things started happening very fast. The young fisherman went on wanking himself while he watched me doing mine. When his orgasm came, he pointed his cock at the sand, letting his cum squirt there That was enough for me. My orgasm started, the spasms so strong that I had to put a hand on one of the boats. After so long without wanking, I suppose there were at least five big spurts after the first jolt. It took me several minutes to get my breath back.
Meanwhile, the young fisher just shook his & gave his cock a squeeze before pulling his jeans back on. I knew I had to wipe my cock before pulling everything back up. All I had in my pocket was a clean hankie. I used it to give my tender cock a squeeze & wipe. When I turned to leave, looking back only once, he gave me another grin & the thumbs up sign. As soon as I was back in my hotel room, I had a long hot shower to clean everything properly, nearly forgetting about my handkerchief, rolled up in my trouser pocket, still with that spunky smell, soaking it several times in cold water in the wash basin. It was about three days before I went back to the beach. Only one of the boats was still there but nobody with it. I never again saw that young fisherman before my Tunisian holiday came to an end.
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