I am 32 years old, British/Australian living in London and working as a lawyer.
My authoritarian-themed fantasy series is called "Dude's gotta pay his debts". My other series, "Dirt in the dunes", is about my real gay encounters as a young guy growing up on the beach in Sydney. This series is the sequel to "Dirt in the dunes", in which I share some of my encounters during my bacpacking era. This chapter is set in 2017.
I was born in November 1992 in Sydney, Australia. I'm 5'11" and about 82kg. My hair is dark blond (with lighter streaks when sun-bleached in the summer), and facially, I am of average attractiveness under normal conditions; "nice-looking" I guess. My cock is average length, maybe around 6.5 inches and cut, but nice and thick. A medium covering of dark blond hair fans out over my pecs and narrows to a trail down to my pubes. I've got a little hair on my shoulders and upper back but not a lot, aside from a patch at the base of my spine over my ass crack. My pits, arms, legs and crack are pretty hairy. I've got broad size 11.5 feet. I generally trim my bush and shave my sack but I don't usually touch any other body hair (though like most guys I've experimented with manscaping from time to time).
I was a skinny kid, so from my mid-to-late teens I started getting into the gym and physical fitness to compensate. I did big lifts 4 times a week (push/pull/legs/full-body), plus running or pool swimming at least once, and as much surfing as I could fit in. I developed a good muscular build with a flat, hard belly, with a shadow of a 6 pack (I liked beer and burgers - so sue me!).
I don't have any piercings other than a silver ring in my right ear, but I do have a scattering of small, random tattoos around my body that I've picked up over the years. Back in 2017 when this story starts, I only had the one - a small minimalist tatt on my right groin just below the groove of my cum gutter. I got it when I started work to compensate for having to cut my hair short for the office!
I am bisexual, openly so with close friends, but I don't broadcast it. Though moods and desires shift over time, I'd say my attraction is evenly split between men and women on average. I tend to be romantically drawn to women and have emotionally monogomous relationships with them, because my connections with men rarely seem to develop further than really good buddies, even if we're shagging. However, the simple fact is, men are way more available for casual sex, and for the raunchy, animal style of sex that I tend to enjoy. With women I tend to be more dominant, but with men I'm 70% bottom and just love getting fucked in my ass. As readers of "Dirt in the dunes" will be aware, when I was a university student, I supplemented my part-time pool cleaning and bar work income with some casual hustling. I had no bullshit moral hangups about sex work, and was happy to get some cash for having sex sometimes instead of always doing it for free. Actually, let't be honest, I wasn't indifferent to it, I fuckin' loved it. I was chatting by email with a fan of my stories who said sex work wasn't about the money for me, it was more like a fetish, and it dawned on me that he was totally right. Hustling got me rock hard and leaking, and that was the whole point. Shout out to Kev for his amazing insight!
****
I'd studied law at university and on graduation I joined a boutique private client firm in the city. Obviously I put the sex work side hustle on hold when I graduated, for the time being at least. Being a male prostitute wasn't a good look for a solicitor. I turned 24 in November 2016, having done my traineeship plus one year of restricted practice, and as the New Year came around, I started to feel like I wanted a break. Lots of Australian students go backpacking either before starting uni, or before starting work after graduation, but I'd gone straight from school to uni to work. I'd come along well professionally and made a good impression, so my firm was happy to keep my position open for me while I took a year off to go backpacking in time-honoured Aussie style. So I resigned and my last day was in February 2017.
When I'd started work I got a conservative short-back-and-sides haircut, longer on top and swept back off my forehead. But six months before I set off on my travels, as the decision to do so solidified in my mind, I started to let it grow. I still visited the barber every six weeks to get a slight trim, but my goal was to grow out the preppy style and get a more even, longer length all over. By March 2017 it was collar length and I wore it slicked back so it still looked neat enough for the office. I'd always worn it long when I was a student, so I was trying to get it to a point where I could grow it long enough to tie back as I was travelling. I also got myself a second tatt on a whim one day, a small one on the inside of my left ankle, and my parents gave me a St Christopher's medallion, silver, on a fine but masculine silver chain, as a going away gift. I rarely take it off, even to this day.
I prided myself on travelling light. For example, I didn't carry a tent, on the basis that I'd always be able to find somewhere to sleep without one, even if I had to trade to get it. Another example was I only packed two pairs of underwear (one pair of briefs, one boxer briefs) because if it was hot, a Speedo would double as undies and swimwear (as well as getting washed in the act of swimming!), and otherwise I liked wearing a jock. It was a habit I'd picked up at uni, and I enjoyed wearing the same one for ages, just giving it a rinse and an air dry every so often. I'm not going to run through my entire kit list but you get the gist, I liked efficient packing.
So in March 2017 I set off through Indonesia and then Thailand. My goal was to get to Europe sooner rather than later, as I'd never been before and I had already visited parts of South East Asia on several occasions. I had a UK passport through my Dad, which was handy. Still, I spent nearly six weeks travelling in the S-E Asia region.
In terms of sexual encounters, I had a brief fling for a few days with a really nice Aussie girl, and in Bangkok I had an expensive encounter with a kathoey, but actually I kept my dick in my shorts pretty much the whole time in Asia. That was intentional, because I'd made a conscious decision to basically whore my way around Europe, trading myself for cash, food and drink, a bed for the night, or a ride, depending on my requirements. It was like a challenge to refuse no sexual approaches as long as the terms were OK and I could protect my personal safety. Why? Because I'd spent the last two years wearing a suit and I missed being a rent boy slut, quite frankly. I got into hustling because I found it an intense turn on being paid for my bod. It really wasn't any more complicated than that. The Asia leg was a kind of psychological preparation phase, and I was going to pack as much sexual experience into Europe as I possibly could.
I collected a few cheap silver rings and woven bracelets as I travelled around, and in Bangkok I added another small random tatt to my collection, this time on my right forearm. I let my beard grow out, and after catching a flight to London and starting to explore the city, I got it shaped and tidied, as well as adding tatt number four to my growing collection, this time on my left pec, to mark my arrival in Europe. I travelled around the UK and Ireland, then through France, Italy, Germany and Greece. Determined to keep in shape ('cos you can't rent if you're not fit), I always made a point of working out as much as I could, making the most of YMCA or hostel gyms, beachfront open-air gyms, or bodyweight exercises in a pinch. I tried to strike a good balance between eating well and not being too uptight about it and enjoying myself. By the time the European summer was in full swing, I could tie the longest sections of my hair back in a short ponytail and my beard was full and thick.
And yes, I got into whore mode. I found girls were much more open sexually than I was used to, obviously exploring things for themselves away from home, and even ostensibly straight guys were more experimental. I usually sorted out my own accommodation, but if it was scarce, I could get a place to sleep for the night if someone was willing to sneak me into their hostel or gite. And hookups with locals, typically guys who were at least a bit older, or sometimes even women, could be offered in exchange for food and drinks or even cold hard cash. I'd say I was having sex nearly every day - about 80 percent of it with guys and maybe 50 pecent of it in exchange for cash or favours - even if it was just a quick handjob or blowjob in the shower or toilet. I also went to a couple of European clubs where there was plenty of high-octane sex on offer, and I had my first mind-blowing mixed group session in the backroom of a Berlin club. I found that to be a really liberating experience where I think I really connected with my sexuality fully for the first time. I celebrated that with tattoo number five, a small fine line inking on my upper back between my shoulders, just below the collar line. On the subject of tatts, by no means was I interested in committing to big, high-investment peices of skin art, I just liked collecting small, meaningful tatts, scattered around my body. It was a casual look I found sexy in others, I didn't want them visible when I was in office attire, and I didn't have to think too much about them or spend much money on them.
****
I'd usually travel by train or coach, though some little groups of backpackers had pooled resources for old campervans and I could ride with them for a while. I'd hitch occasionally, mindful of the risks, and though half the time the ride was no strings attached, often a driver would make it clear he was interested in more. We'd pull into secluded rest stops and I'd suck his cock, or sometimes get fucked, and that would usually guarantee I'd get bought a meal as well as getting safely dropped off where I was headed (instead of in the middle of nowhere if the driver wasn't going all the way). A fairly typical experience like that happened when I was in France, and I wanted to get somewhere not well-served by train, so I decided to hitch. Though it was warm, I hadn't long been walking when the weather turned. I was wearing denim cutoffs, a sleeveless tshirt, hiking boots and thick socks, and a baseball cap. As it started to spit, I pulled on my lightweight hooded waterproof, but before long it was pouring and I was soaked despite it. It was pissing me off dodging the sheets of water the passing vehicles sent flying, but eventually a truck pulled over and the driver opened the passenger door. Nodding and smiling gratefully, I climbed up into the cab next to him.
He was Polish but had good English, in his 40's, his head balding and buzzed down, at least a week's thick scruff on his face, and with a typical trucker's dad bod, his arms heavily inked. But he didn't smell, and he was friendly. With his encouragement I tugged off my waterproof and hung it on a hook behind my seat. My sleeveless tshirt was pretty damp, and my bare arms glistened with moisture. We drove in relative silence until we hit some services, where he said I could get a shower and dry my clothes. I asked if the showers were free, and though I actually wasn't angling for anything, he said "Don't worry, I'll pay". "You sure mate? You don't have to do that." "Its no problem," he shrugged. After he parked up, I grabbed my pack and followed him to the showers; he was lugging a small laundry bag. He paid for a couple of tokens from a vending machine and said "Give me your clothes". I must have looked confused because he said "I'll put them in with my wash". Smiling my thanks, I unselfconsciously took off my boots and socks, peeled off my wet tshirt, then dropped my cutoffs and my jock. Totally naked, I bundled up my damp clothes and he held open his laundry bag while I stuffed them in. "See you in the diner," he said as he handed me an old worn towel, giving me a quick look up and down as he did.
The showers were partitioned but they had no doors or curtains. I deposited the tokens and had a quick, tepid, low-pressure shower which was definitely better than nothing, scrubbed myself dry, combed out my hair and beard, slapped a bit of moisturiser on my face and some deodourant in my pits, and got some clean kit from my pack - a pair of old Aussie Rules footy shorts, which I slipped on over my bare ass, and a loose stringer vest. I slipped my boots back on sockless. When I got to the cafe, Polish Dude ordered us both a big hot meal and coffee, which I was enormously grateful for (but I wasn't stupid enough to think this kindness was all charity - I was looking forward to paying him back). The rain had stopped, so when we finished we collected our now dry washing and I stowed my stuff back in my pack, then we got back in the truck and headed off.
After a couple of hours he pulled into a secluded lay-by.
"I need to sleep. You can go on from here if you want, get another ride maybe, or you sleep too and I drive you further."
"I could do with a nap mate, that's cool."
He smiled and nodded, then climbed up behind the driver's seat where there was a small sleeping cab. I toed off my boots and climbed barefoot after him. Polish Dude had pulled off his hoodie, trainers and jeans and was lying on the bunk in his tshirt, socks and boxer briefs. There was a thin blanket which he held back for me as I climbed in next to him, then I smiled my thanks and rolled onto my side, facing away from him, as he pulled the blanket over us. I lay there for 10 minutes or so, waiting to hear if his breathing changed and he fell asleep, but instead he slipped his burly, inked arm around my waist, really casually, as though he was pretending he was doing it while asleep. I decided it was time to pay off my debt, so I snuggled back into him, my ass pressing into his groin, where I could feel his warm hardon through both of our shorts. He started to run his calloused hand up under my vest to feel my hairy abs and chest, so I stretched my body out a bit and let him have a feel, before I then gently took his hand in mine and moved it down until it was planted on my crotch. He squeezed his hand around my swelling bulge.
"You like men?" he whispered into my ear.
"I like men and women. I want to pay you back for the laundy and lunch and stuff."
"Hmmmmmmm. What will you do for me?"
"Do what you want. I'll tell you if I don't like it."
To make the point, I sat myself up, stripped off my vest, then lifted my hips and pushed my shorts down to my ankles and kicked them away. Pushing the blanket aside, I stretched out naked and hard, my arms behind my head and my legs spread as wide as I could get them in this cramped cabin. Polish Dude took his time feeling me up all over, stroked my cock for a while, then took off his boxers. Without waiting for an invitation, I rolled over and started sucking his uncut 7 inches as he lay back moaning happily. After a few minutes of oral he said "You let me fuck you?" I nodded and asked him if he had condoms. He grabbed a box of them and a tube of lube out of a storage compartment, and as he rubbered up I rolled over onto my side, facing away from him, raised my leg in the air and fingered a generous amount of lube into my asshole. He snuggled up in the spooning position and I kept my leg raised as he fumbled around trying to connect his cock with my cunt, until he finally nudged his way through my ring and started to push up into my rectum. I breathed deep and bore down with my gut muscles to try to open up a bit, then he took over holding my leg up for me so I could wank myself as he started to fuck. He didn't last long, and when he was finished I slipped off his condom and sucked his softening cock clean. I was still rock hard though, and he noticed, so he lay me back and took over dry-stroking my cock until I came over my abs. He rubbed my cum into my skin and body hair, then got us back into a spoon under the blanket; we both dozed off pretty quick.
When we woke, I sucked him off and let him cum in my mouth, then we tugged our clothes back on and continued driving. I fell asleep in the passenger seat as he drove until after midnight, then we stopped at another services for a bite to eat - again, he paid. This time Polish Dude wanted a shower, and when he was done we climbed into the sleeping cab again; I stripped naked and lay on my front as he fucked me in the ass, then he wanked me off again. After a few more hours' driving, he got me within a few miles of my destination - we shared a rough man-hug and I went on my way.
****
By the time I started exploring Greece, the weather was pretty scorching. I enjoyed the museums and architecture of Athens quite a bit, and had some good times island-hopping around the Cyclades (backpackers on the islands are all horny as fuck). I had a great tan and my hair and beard, getting ever longer, were nicely sun-bleached. Back on the mainland I took a coach north to Delphi, where the ruins of the ancient oracle's temple were supposed to be worth seeing. A few young folks like me got off the coach when we arrived in the late afternoon, and I followed the little group to the hostels. A couple of them had pre-booked so got in, but me and another guy were out of luck. We were recommended a little hotel, and though we were wary of spending too much, we decided to check it out.
My new comrade's name was Patrick, and he was a Brit on his gap year before starting uni (which meant he was about 18 years old). He was slightly taller than me, with an athletic rower's build, nice regular features and a scruffy mop of reddish-blond hair that I could tell was growing out from a buzzcut because it was all one length. He had a couple of day's scruff on his jaw, and wore cargo shorts, hiking sandals, a cap, and a tatty vest that was stretched out of shape by the straps of his backpack, so I could see a broad expanse of slighty hairy pecs and frequent flashes of nipple. Me, I was in denim cutoffs, minimalist hiking sandals, a sleeveless surfie tshirt, my long sweaty hair tied back in a scruffy ponytail. We chatted as we hunted down the hotel, and it turned out to be a sweet little place that offered a decent rate on a twin room, so we took it. We picked our beds, unpacked a few things and took turns using the shower. We pottered around with towels around our waists, and as I surreptitiously checked him out (tanned, no visible ink, lean but pretty ripped, the light dusting of chest hair contrasting with a heavier treasure trail), I got a feeling he was doing the same. We each rinsed that day's clothing in the basin, and I hung my sleeveless tshirt and jock alongside his vest and boxers to dry on the little balcony. I dressed in my good pair of Aussiebum briefs, my only pair of jeans, a pair of Havaiana flip-flops, and a clean tshirt, leaving my hair down to dry. Patrick put on shorts, a tshirt and a pair of Birkenstocks; he'd also decided to shave, so his jaw was smooth. We headed out to a little taverna where there were some other travellers, and had a nice cheap meal which extended into drinks with the others as the evening went on.
The more time I spent with Patrick, the more I got a vibe from him: inexperienced but interested. I asked him if he had a girlfriend at one point, and he said he had had one for a while in "Upper Sixth" as he called it, which I understood to be his last two years of high school. We started chatting shit about our backpacking hookups and I casually mentioned that I had fun with guys as well as girls; his reaction was mild surprise. Certain that no-one was eavesdropping, I quietly aksed him if he'd been with a guy, and he shook his head. After a few seconds' silence, he said "But I'd be up for trying it, you never know, right?" I smiled at him and said "Its always good to be open-minded mate, that's what this is all about".
We went back to our shared room shortly afterwards, resisting the temptation to keep the drinking session going with the other folks, and once I'd shut the door behind me I kicked off my flip-flops and peeled off my tshirt as I flopped back on the bed and crossed my arms behind my head. I was displaying my pecs and pits fully on purpose, and my jeans, without a belt, rode very low on my waist so my cum gutters and the upper edge of my pubic bush were visible. Patrick actually blushed as he kicked off his own sandals and sat on the edge of his bed, his gaze alternating between me and the floor between his bare feet. Wordlessly, I held out my hand to him and he tentatively took it, so I gently drew him over to my bed, rested my other hand on the back of his head, and slowly pulled him down for a kiss. It was chaste at first, then I slid my tongue between his lips and he opened his mouth to let me in. As the kiss got heavier, I pulled him onto my body and got my arms around him, slippng one hand up the back of his tshirt and moving the other down to feel his firm ass. Soon we were both moaning and I pushed him down a little, moving his face to my nipple - he got the message instantly and started to suck the nip, then as I put my arm back behind my head and sighed, he moved his mouth to my damp armpit without prompting. He didn't seem to mind the taste of deororant, which personally I can't stand, so for a few minutes I let him suck and play with my nips and pits before I reached down and tugged his tshirt off over his head. Rolling him onto his back, I got more forceful with the snogging, tugging his nips with my fingers, grinding my pelvis against his, feeling his stone-solid cock inside his shorts as he groaned. Then I unbuttoned his flies and stripped his shorts off him so he lay under me in his tight black boxer briefs.
At that point I stood and dropped my jeans. He ogled me openly and I grinned as I did the same to him, getting rewarded with a bright smile. I decided to go for it, so I slowly pushed my briefs down my legs and kicked them away, my solid cock springing up to slap my furry abs. "Ow wow", he muttered, then he raised his hips and pushed his own boxers down to his ankles. I pulled them off his feet as I took in the sight of his rigid cock, about the same size as mine, uncircumscised though, and leaking copiously into his treasure trail. Man, I thought I was a leaker! I knelt on the bed and gripped his cock as he gasped; maintaining eye contact, I leaned down and slid my tongue over his glans to harvest the sweet cocksnot, making Patrick draw a hitching breath, before I took him smoothly down my throat. I sucked him deeply for a couple of minutes as he rested on his elbows, staring down at me, his mouth hanging open, then he said "Oh stop stop stop, I'm too close already!" Smiling, I lay down next to him and kissed him some more before he moved down and started to tentatively lick the underside and head of my cock. I made encouraging nosies so he started to suck the first couple of inches, getting a little deeper each time. As one point he went too deep and retched; "Easy tiger," I muttered, "take it slow". He recovered and got back on it fast. I maneouvered him into a 69 position, me underneath him, and carefully teased his cock with my mouth as he worked on mine. I shifted my attention to his hairy ballsack, then spread his fuzzy asscheeks and tongued his sweaty taint, before sweeping my broad wet tongue over his tight pink asshole. "Whoa man, what are you doing?" he gasped. "Just relax mate," I muttered from between his buns, and started to lick his boyhole enthusiastically as he gasped and moaned. He was too distracted to suck my cock anymore, so I pulled him back by his hips until he was squarely sitting on my face, his feet by my ears, his glutes naturally spreading and giving me the chance to spear his virgin shit chute with the point of my tongue. "Ooooohhh fuck that's nice", he groaned.
In that moment, I was torn. I really wanted to make sure Patrick's first time with a guy was an experience he'd always remember for all the right reasons, but I also wanted to let loose the beast. I nearly always used condoms and I'd had STI tests before I set out travelling, so I knew I was clean, and I'd have bet good money that Patrick was. There was no better time for both of us to go bareback, and I seriously wanted to spit-fuck and breed his virgin cunt. Of course, he had no reason to assume I had a clean bill of health, so if he objected I certainly wouldn't push it, but I wanted to see how far I could take it. He could get raw fucked AND have the best guy-on-guy first time I could give him. So I slid out from under him, moved him onto all fours cross-ways on the narrow single bed, knelt on the floor behind him, spread those firm cheeks and ground my beard into his wet crack while forcing my tongue hard up through his stubbornly-tight ring. He rested his head on the mattress and whimpered, his solid tool leaking pre in long strings, giving in to me as I worked my mouth to get him to relax his pucker. I started to spit liberally on his anus, using my finger to push the bubbly juice just inside him, then I sucked that finger and slowly, gently, pushed it up his ass. "Oooooooooooooooohhhhh fuck", he whispered as I started to slowly fuck that finger in and out of his hole, drooling a continuous stream of spit to the top of his crack as I did, letting the saliva ooze down through his crack hair until it met my wet probing digit. I then spat on two fingers and on his wet cunt before easing both fingers inside him as he gasped. I curved my fingers downwards until I felt the swelling of his prostate, then started to flex my fingertips over his gland. "Ohhhhhh holy shit man, that feels so fuckin' good", he moaned into the mattress. I kept up the fingerbanging for a few minutes, letting him get used to a feeling it seemed that he'd never had before, caressing his buns, back, legs and feet, making wordless encouraging sounds, helping him to open up. He was zoning out as he gave into the feelings, so I slowly stood up, keeping the fingering up as I did, cupped my free hand under my hardon, dribbled some spit down and smeared it over my cock head. Gently withdrawing my fingers, I bent down and added a couple more doses of thick saliva to his slightly-open anus, put my cockhead against his hole, and slowly applied pressure until the tight sphincter gave way then snapped shut behind the ridge of my glans.
Patrick gasped at the sudden intrusion, but two thick fingers twisting around in there had prepped him well. He didn't say anything as I rested my cockhead just inside his ass, then slowly withdrew it, watching his ring slowly close. I added more spit then pushed in again, rested, and withdrew. Several times I did that, until the last time when instead of pulling out, I pushed in another inch. Patrick was totally still and silent, so I kept pushing in slowly but steadily, until I was buried to the root in his warm rectum. I stroked his back, reached down and took one of his hands in mine. "That feel OK mate?" I asked quietly. He nodded, without making a sound. I took both of his hands in mine, clasped them at the small of his back, and started to slowly fuck him, frequently adding more spit to his crack and letting it flow down to lube my stroke. As I got faster and harder, he started to moan more loudly, and then buried his face in the blanket to muffle it. As I got into my fucking rhythm, I reached underneath him - as I'd hoped, he was rock hard and oozing like fuckin' crazy. I was making him feel good, and that was what was important. Gripping his hips, I built up the pace as he clawed the bedclothes with one free hand while gripping his cock hard with the other.
Abruptly I stopped and withdrew, savouring his disappointed whimper, and crouched back down to examine his deflowered lad-cunt. It was oozing spit which ran down the back of his scrotum, and was staying slightly open. Grinning, I resumed rimming his hungry hole, eager to taste his virgin ass juices. I tend to bottom with guys more often than not, but Patrick made me wanna top like crazy. Hawking up and dripping another wad of thick snotty spit into his hole, I stood and pushed back inside him to fuck some more. After a while I pulled out and treated him to some more rimming, then flipped him onto his back. Patrick's face was beet red, his hair a wet mess, and we were both sheened with sweat. I grabbed his bare feet, spread his legs wide and let my hips guide my cock back into his anus. I let his legs go and he instinctively wrapped them around my waist, so I leant down and tongued his mouth deeply before gripping his cock and jerking it in time with my thrusts. His eyes started to bulge and with a few strokes his head pushed back into the bed and ropes of lad jizz lashed over his chest and abs. I slowed to a stop and slid out of his ass, milked the last of his seed out of his still-hard cock, and scooped up the warm fluid with my fingers, slathering it over my wet cock to improve the lubrication. I then slid back up inside him and started to thrust harder and faster, until with a gutteral grunt I finally unloaded my cum deep in his guts. My thrusts slowed as my scum further lubed his tunnel and I lay down on Patrick's sweaty body, melting into a long wet snog until my softening cock slipped out of his open hole, accompanied by a dribble of our mixed semen.
I pulled back from our kiss and looked Patrick in the face, and he smiled back at me, panting. "That good mate?" I asked softly, and he replied "Fuckin' incredible. Holy fuck that was nice". I laughed. We shifted until we were back on the bad lengthways and held each other, chatting and caressing. Patrick's cock didn't go down at all, and after a little while mine started to swell again as we felt each other's slick muscles and hair, his hand stroking my wet tool while my fingers dipped into and played with his sloppy hole. I wanted to take advantage of how lubed and loose he still was, so when I was fully hard again I rolled onto my back and got him to sit on my groin as I maneouvered my cock; Patrick got the message and guided me back up his open, oozing shitter, sighing as I slid easily up into his rectum. He rode me slowly for a good 20 minutes as I stroked his cock with my spit-wet hand at the same pace, until I finally released a second dose of warm DNA inside him. I pushed him gently off me and onto his back, and sucked his cock until he protested that he was close - ignoring him, I let him fill my gob with an impressive second load which I hapilly swallowed down. I then spooned him like a good top, wrapping my sweat-slick limbs around his until we both fell asleep.
****
The next morning, Patrick seemed a bit off, so I held him in my arms and encouraged him to share. Unsurprisingly, he said he was worried that we'd had unprotected anal sex, and I felt a bit guilty about it. I reassured him that I was STI-free, had been tested before I left Australia, and had used condoms for all of my on-the-road encounters until now. He accepted my reassurances, and I mock-sternly told him that he couldn't always count on that and he should insist on condoms in future. We showered and dressed in yesterday's kit, which was still a bit damp but that felt nice in this hot weather. After a continental breakfast, we grabbed day packs and headed to the temple ruins to explore, along with a sizeable number of other travellers. As the morning got later it was damn hot so we both stripped off our tops and let the sweat flow in the blazing sun.
That night, we headed back to our room fairly early after dinner and a couple of drinks 'cos we had one thing on our minds. As the door locked shut behind me, I took charge and firmly pushed Patrick to his knees - he looked up at me excitedly as I hauled out my stiffie and pushed it between his lips and to the back of his throat, making him gag. He didn't seem to mind and I was soon fucking his face, not fully letting loose but definitely giving him a different kind of experience to the previous night. As I used his mouth I stripped off my tshirt and let him pull my jeans and undies down to my ankles so I could step out of them and my Havaianas. Now fully naked, I pulled his tshirt off him as he pushed his shorts down and started to aggressively wank himself as he resumed sucking me. When I was ready, I hauled him up by his pits and pushed him down on the bed, dragging his shorts and undies down over his bare feet. I fished around in my toiletries bag until I found my bottle of lube, slathered some on his cock and wiped a generous dollop of it through my trench. I squatted over his groin and positioned his slippery cockhead at my hole, then lowered myself until it popped through my unprepped ring with a stabbing ache and slid up through into my guts. Patrick just looked up at me with something like amazement as I started to bounce and ride him vigorously; he squeaked out a strangled "FUCK!!!!" as his body spasmed and he shot up in my ass inside a minute. That was hardly surprising for first-time anal, so I dismounted and further awed him by taking his wet, still-hard cock into my mouth straight from my fuckhole, sucking it clean of the lube, cum and stringy tan-coloured ass-slime. Without any further ado, I rolled him onto his front and got between his legs, liberally lubed my cock and squirted some on his tight pucker, and lay at full length along his body, forcing my tool slowly but steadily up into his ass. A lad needed to learn how to get pleasure from quickies, he wasn't always going to get marathon rimming and fingering to prep his hole. I rested inside him while covering his mouth with my hand and probing his ear with my tongue, until I judged it was time to give it to him proper - I started to fuck, slowly at first of course, but soon I was slamming his butt. To be honest I only lasted a little longer than him, and I bred his chute pretty quick. I withdrew, spread his glutes and spent some time soothing his puffy ring with my tongue, licking out the available seed that was just inside his hole, even as his load oozed out of my bunghole and dribbled down the back of my scrotum. When I was satisfied I gave his ass a firm slap and he rolled onto his back - I was very pleased to see the smear of cum where my fuck had driven his cock into the bedding and treated him to a second orgasm. We snogged until we fell asleep.
****
The next morning, we held each other, lazily snogged, and wanked each other to a mutual climax. Patrick and I went our separate ways after breakfast, parting with an affectionate man-hug. He was a good lad, and I hope he's happy and doing well.
As promised, this is a true account of my experiences as I remember them. I fuckin' love feedback and hearing from fans, so email me if you want at [email protected]
