Date: Tue, 22 Aug 2017 21:45:12 +0200 From: Guillaume Bacharene Subject: Village Life II: Fireman Marc's Next Lesson Guillaume Bacharene bacharene@gmail.com This story and series is a work of fiction, whatever sources of reality and experience might apply and, whatever the identity of their `subjects'. If you, as reader, think it real, then I, as writer, have done my job. But, please feel free to email your comments. Please support and donate to Nifty, which supports this community of writers and readers. Village Life - Part II: Fireman Marc's Next Lesson So, Marc had already opened an intriguing window to village life of the unexpected kind. He was incredibly open, sweet and affectionate and beautifully sexual but with a smiling innocence to it all. And, he had a really sharp brain. It was an `all in' combination, a very heady mix. Marc nestled in my arms. We fitted together so perfectly and in academic equivalence terms, he had a gone from kissing novice to a PhD in minutes. And, he was highly tactile. Now in my book, kissing and tactile skills are absolute essentials. I can kiss and caress for hours and, any man in my life has first to pass that key test. Both I think tune the body as an impeccable and optimum instrument although in combination, their outcome is not music but a lifting of sensual and sexual pleasure to pinnacles of sheer brilliance and erotic delight. And Marc loved to talk. Very atypical of his generation, he spoke exquisite, flawless French with a poetic beauty. So, he was intriguing me more with every detail uncovered. We kissed some more. His tongue was long and highly articulated. It reached places in my mouth none prior had ever managed and, in short, the star student was becoming an absolute maestro. His head nestled in the crook of my arm; my bent left upper leg cradling his right leg. His cock never subsided but pulsated with every beat of his heart. It kept up a constant stream of nectar, which caught the soft light of the bedside lamp like drops of dew, kissed by the first rays of a rising sun. I caressed his cock and periodically licked up the pool between my right thumb and forefinger before kissing him anew so his sweetness connected us even more personally. I ran my tongue around his eyelids and ears. He moaned and shuddered. I discovered the areas around his jawline and neck to be even more potent trigger spots for him. When I ran my tongue around those places, not only did he moan even louder, his body writhed and back arched. The erotic intensity was palpable and it turned me on no end. `My God, Guillaume, you are like the key for whom I have waited, now unlocking my every place; letting in the light of sustenance and pleasure.' His moans, shudders, words; his natural scent; intelligence; openness and all manner of things I knew were yet to be discovered were intensely and all-consuming, erotic, sensual, sexual, stimulating. I whispered as I gently stroked his slick cock, with a particular focus on his glans, and kissed him ever more deeply and passionately. His cock was totally sensitive in the glans area, as I had discovered was true of all uncut guys. `You don't need lessons, Marc, you simply need unlocking; you don't need explanations, Marc; you simply need to be shown. As the key to everything within you, that is what I am going to do. You will feel me within every lock you possess.' Running my tongue around his nipples and his abs and navel made him moan and writhe anew. And, licking his hipbone area almost sent him climbing up the wall. When I began to suck his cock while gently caressing his ball sac, he began to moan, pulse and shudder like a slow earthquake. That lesson needed no labels or explanations. I figured too that metre thick stone walls and soundproofed windows were a bonus. I was transporting Marc into places new and exciting where he was learning much about his own body and sexual pleasure. With a loud cry and a huge shudder, his cum blasted into my throat, sweet and fruity, unctuous. I went back to kissing him, he tasting his own sweetness. As he calmed down he whispered, `Guillaume, I want you to fuck me.' I held him close and tightly and looked him in the eyes, caressing his neck and chin. `Marc, that is a huge step to take. It is not easy the first time and I don't want to spoil things for you.' `Guillaume, I trust you and want nobody else to do it.' I went to the bathroom to get a large towel, placing it beneath him and retrieved the lube from my bedside drawer. Cradling him again I squeezed a pool of lube into his navel and coated my forefinger liberally. As I resumed kissing him, I whispered to him to open his legs and to relax completely. His taint and ass crack were home to a lot of silken hairs but I found his hole and began to massage it gently, using circular motions and gradually probing deeper. He was so tight and virginal. I kept returning to the lube pool in his navel so that he was well lubricated. And then as my finger popped through his tight sphincter, first one then two segments, his smooth insides engulfed it with their warmth. `You OK?' I whispered. `Yes,' he replied with a moan. I kept working his hole for a good five minutes and then inserted my middle finger, again, well lubricated. This time I probed gently for his prostate. When I found it, he uttered something between a cry and a moan. `My god, what is that?' `It's your love button,' I whispered. `Are you ready for my cock inside you? When I fuck you, my cock will hit it and you will probably cum without me or you even touching your cock.' `Yes, yes' His words trailed off. I positioned myself between his parted legs, lubricating both my 18cm cock and his ass well. `You can control it all, Marc. That way I will not hurt you.' He did. It took a few minutes but eventually I was fully inside him engulfed by his inner warmth, his smoothness and, tightness. I leaned forward so I could kiss him, his hips rotating up and creating the perfect angle for me to fuck him. His hands kneaded my neck and back. I started to fuck him slowly. He moaned with every thrust as my cock caressed his prostate. And then he started to move in unison, clenching his sphincter around my thrusting cock. His moans increased and I knew he would not be able to hold out and neither would I as we moved quickly to that higher plane of pleasure and sensation. Just as I reached the point of no return, Marc cried out and I felt his hot come blasting between us. It was the final trigger for me. We remained glued together for what seemed like an eternity, my cock still inside him. We kissed and caressed more, enveloped by the sensual and heady smell of cum and hormone-pumped and infused male bodies after sex. He said, `I can't even begin to describe how magical and beautiful that was, but (and he said this in English) you popped my cherry, as they say in America. Et j'en suis fier et heureux que c'est toi Guillaume qu'il l'avait fait.' `And I am proud and happy it was you Guillaume who did so.' I smiled and kissed him with renewed passion. `And, it was the best cherry I ever popped!' We had a shower together and I went and got two Cognacs. Back in bed, Marc nestled in my arms. `We have much to celebrate Marc,' I whispered, kissing his forehead. `The start of something truly beautiful Guillaume,' he replied. And it was. Had it not been for Marlne's migraine and my decision to go to the Bal des Pompiers anyway, the night and all thereafter would have been totally different. (If you liked this story, please let me know. Any and all feedback and suggestions are welcome: bacharene@gmail.com)