Date: Mon, 21 Jun 2010 06:36:31 -0700 (PDT) From: Koos Smit Subject: Beach Front Boy BEACH FRONT BOY By Koos Smit It was about 7pm on a muggy summer evening in Durban, the main port city on South Africa's Indian Ocean coast. It was hot and sticky as only tropical Durban can be at the height of summer. Living in Johannesburg I was used to the cool, crisp high altitude climate of the Highveld and I always avoided Durban like the plague in summer. The only reason I was in Durban at that time was because there was an important seminar on that week and my employer had insisted that I go. After a dreary day listening to the droning of interminable speakers in a room where the air-conditioners had obviously seen better days I returned to the Holiday Inn on the beachfront where I was staying, tired, crumpled and scratchy. I yanked off my clothes as I walked in the door, dropping them on the floor as I went straight for the aircon and put it on full blast. Then I called room service for a beer and took a lukewarm shower while I waited for it to arrive. It came quicker than I thought it would. I got out the shower wet and dripping, snatched a towel around my waist and held it there with one hand as I opened the door with the other. The bar boy standing there with my beer on a tray was young and cute, maybe 17 or 18 at most, short and trim, black haired, tanned, black eyed. I turned to fetch my wallet and the bar boy followed me in. I purposely let go the towel and allowed it drop to the floor. I picked up my wallet and turned to face him, watching him as I pretended to fumble for some notes, hoping that he would give some indication -- a look, a comment -- to say he could be interested. He had picked up my towel and was holding it out to me at arm's length, his eyes troubled and looking away. I ignored it. He blushed and fidgeted and did not seem to know where to look. He was clearly uncomfortable with my nakedness and when I stepped toward him to give him the money he practically jumped backward with fright. `Ah well', I sighed as he took the money and retreated hastily. I had heard that many of the bellhops and bar boys at these Durban beachfront hotels were happy to increase their meager earnings by providing guests with additional `unlisted' services. But this was obviously not one of them. I switched on the TV and watched the news for a while as I downed my beer, sitting on my bed with my back against the headboard, fingering my cock absently. Then I looked through the classified ads of the local newspaper under the `Massage' and `Escort' columns. The cryptic messages teased my imagination: `Michael (WM) - young and hung - 18yo -- for M/M'; `Dean (WM) -- B/L bodybuilder -- 10 inch -- for M/M full house -- will travel'; `Farm Boy Kurt (WM) -- built/hung stallion for M/M massage and more'. I always did this went I went to another city. I would never dream of doing it in my home town. I would imagine and yearn but I would never actually phone. I was married and had two kids at home but had been `curious' for a long time -- for ever, really -- and I would fantasize about what it might be like to do it with a guy. But I somehow could never work up the courage to take that first step. Often I would key in the number on my mobile and wrestle with myself for agonizing seconds with my thumb on the dial button before stabbing at the reject button and tossing my phone aside, irritated with myself. As so often before I eventually keyed in the number for the young and hung 18 year old, Michael. I was in the midst of my usual agonizing when I involuntarily stabbed the dial button. I could have cancelled but somehow I didn't. I stared at the phone until I heard the dial tone click out and a man's voice saying `Hello? Hello?' I put the phone to my ear. A deep voice resonated in my ear `Hello, what can I do for you?' I realised at once that this was no 18 year old. `I'm sorry', I said `I seem to have dialed the wrong number' `No you haven't' came the reply. Thinking quickly over a faint feeling of panic that I was being sucked into something that I had no control over I said `Is this ...?' and I gave the number I had just dialed with the last two digits switched around. `No. I'm sorry' said the pleasant voice, `Seems you have dialed the wrong number' `Sorry', I said with relief, and dialed off. I lay there for a while, berating myself for being a coward. I was flying home the next day and once again I would be going home with my questions unanswered. Eventually I jumped up. No use moping about it. I got dressed in a pair of knee length shorts and a loose button up shirt that I did not tuck in, slipped my bare feet into a pair of leather beach thongs, grabbed the keys of my hired BMW and went to find something to eat. I drove down Marine Parade until I found a restaurant further down the beachfront that I had not tried before. It was 10 pm and dark by the time I drove back. As it was during the school term there were very few holidaymakers in Durban that week and the Marine Parade was almost deserted. The lack of bustle and noise seemed almost eerie. Although it was still uncomfortably warm there was a light drizzle that seemed to coat the tarred road with a yellow sheen from the bright yellow street lights. As I entered a traffic circle I passed a young boy standing alone at the kerbside on my left. He was not thumbing but he looked as if he was looking for a lift. I do not pick up hitchhikers but something made me go right round the circle to get back to him. Perhaps it was because he seemed to be too young to be there on his own. Perhaps it was because he looked a little forlorn in the drizzle. Perhaps it was just because I would have liked someone else to have picked up my son if he was standing alone on the beachfront. Whatever it was, I went back for him. As I drove slowly around the circle I checked him out. He looked like a typical Durban beach boy. I could not tell his age in the light of the street. Could have been anything from 14 to 18. Sturdily built, he was short for 18 and tall for 14. As I drew up to him I pushed the button and the window slid down smoothly. I saw he was wearing a pair of denim dungarees that were a little too big for him, the rolled trouser cuffs almost covering his feet which, like most teenage boys growing up in Durban, were bare. He wore no shirt under his dungarees, which were held up by just one strap over his left shoulder. The front flap hung down to the left, exposing the right side of a tanned and well-developed upper body. I came to a stop next to him. He stepped into the road and bent slightly to rest his elbows on the window sill and poke his head inside. `Hallo Oom!' he said cheerfully, addressing me with the Afrikaans for "uncle", as polite Afrikaner boys are brought up to do. Full lips opened in a wide grin across his broad face and bright blue eyes twinkled a question at me under a thatch of straight blonde hair, now dark and damp from the drizzle. His skin was smooth and tanned a deep golden brown, glistening now like honey from the wet. His arms and shoulders were well-muscled and hairless, except for a light dusting of soft golden down on his forearms. A smell of wet boy and denim wafted into the car and made my belly lurch pleasantly, an intoxicating musk of sea salt, sweat and sun tan cream. How I wished right then that I had the balls to try to pick this boy up. `Want a lift home?' I asked, my heart in the back of my mouth.. A shadow passed fleetingly over the boy's face. He looked up at the continuing drizzle and then back at me for a moment. He seemed to be making up his mind about something. Then, finally, `Okay, Oom' he said, `It's a bit early but with this drizzle I might as well pack it in for tonight'. Faint traces in his accent told my ears that his home language was indeed Afrikaans: The slightly clipped tone, the rounded vowels and the hard consonants He picked up a small canvas beach bag from the kerbside and tossed it on the back seat. He paused before getting in and looked at the front passenger seat. `I'm a bit wet, Oom. Have you got a towel?' `No, but it's OK', I said, `It's leather. You can't hurt it' The right side of his smooth tanned torso with its well-defined musculature was exposed to me as he got in and drew my eyes like a magnet. The single buttons meant to hold the side slits in his dungarees closed at the waist were unbuttoned on both sides so that when he sat down the front flap of his dungarees ballooned outward and the side slits gaped open all the way to the top of his thighs. He was not wearing any shorts or underpants and I caught a tantalizing glimpse of smooth tanned buttock and thigh before he patted the flap back against his lap. Once again my belly lurched pleasurably and I could feel a tingling get going in the tip of my cock. Completely unfazed he grinned and said `I never wear under rods, Oom. Too hot and sticky in Durbs. I like my tackle to hang free. You don't mind, do you?' `Of course not, why should I?' I did not tell him that I was not wearing any either and for the same reason. It didn't seem to be any of his business. He ran his fingers over the polished wooden panels in the dash and the door. `Nice ride you hired, Oom!' `How did you know I hired it?' I asked `I can see you're from outta town. And Imperial Car Hire always got those boxes of mints in the car' I laughed. `You're a bright kid!' I said. `But how can you tell I'm from out of town' `You got that kind of skin that the Joburgers always have. My mom says it's because it's cold and dry there. When the kids come down on holiday they got those "rosy cheeks and peachy skin" she always says. That's why she's always after me to use sun tan cream and stuff' `Well, she's done a good job with yours', I said, reaching out despite myself and running the back of my fingers down his cheek, `You have great skin' At once I regretted stroking his cheek. He's going to think I'm coming on to him, I thought in panic. But my passenger just smiled as if it was normal for strange men to stroke his cheek and compliment him on his great skin. `Thanks, Oom', he said simply, extending a hand `I'm Johan, by the way' `And I'm Jonathan', I said as I took his hand and shook it. His hand was big and firm, like a gymnast's, and his grip was strong and confident. `You can forget the "Oom" bit" `Okay, Jonathan it is', he replied with a grin. I looked at him quickly. It seemed an odd reply, but I put it out of my mind. `How old are you?' He grinned at me again. `Eighteen, right?' Again the odd reply, `No way you're eighteen!' He looked momentarily surprised. `Well, that's what everyone wants to hear, but no, you're right, I'm actually sixteen' `That's what I thought', I said. He cast me an anxious glance. `Are you still OK with that?' This was really a puzzling conversation but I replied, `Sure, why not?' `No, nothing, some guys have a problem with me being under eighteen, is all' By now we were continuing North on the Marine Parade. I suddenly realised that I had been so absorbed by my young passenger's attractiveness and enigmatic conversation that I had forgotten to ask him where he needed to go. `So where are we going, Johan?' He looked at me in surprise. `Where do you want to go, Jonathan?' he asked `I thought I was taking you home' I replied `No that won't work!' he said, `My mom is there and anyway she thinks I'm sleeping over with my friend Andrew `Well, must I take you to Andrew?' Johan laughed out loud and looked at me incredulously. `No, silly, Andrew's dad would have a fucken heart attack if we turned up there! He don't like me hanging out with Andrew! He chased me away from there before!' `Then what ...?' I asked, now completely befuddled. `Yissus, but you're slow for a Joburger! Where you staying, man?' `I'm staying at the Holiday Inn. You mean ... you want to crash with me in the hotel? You don't even know me ... I could be ... an axe murderer ... what would your mom say?', I finished lamely. Then the light finally went on: `Oh gosh ... Oh my gosh ... Oh my gosh!' It dawned through my thick skull at last that this sexy young boy was picking me up! I jammed on the brakes and slowed down, turned into one of the many empty parking slots along Marine Parade, pulled up the handbrake and switched off the engine. I turned and looked at Johan as if seeing him for the first time. My heart was pounding in the back of my throat and my pulse was racing like I had just finished a hard game of squash. `You weren't hitching a ride, you were hooking customers!', I accused. `Sure, you knew that!' `No, I didn't!' `I watched you checking me out as you went around the circle. You liked what you saw and you came back for me!' `I've never picked up a guy in my life! I felt sorry for you getting wet and I wanted to take you home' Johan looked at me appraisingly for a long while and then said, `Maybe. But when you stopped and spoke to me I could see in your eyes that you wanted me' I blushed at the truth of what he said. `And ... I can see that you still want me!' he said, glancing meaningfully at the long hard bulge in my shorts. I glanced down and blushed brighter. Still I said nothing, looking back into Johan's cute young face, not trusting myself to speak. Johan reached up to his left shoulder and unhitched the one strap still holding up the left side of the front of his dungarees. The heavy denim cloth collapsed onto his lap and left his upper body completely exposed all the way to the top of his thighs. He pushed the cloth away to reveal a cock that even in its unerected state was both exceptionally long and exceptionally thick for a boy of sixteen. It was white and smooth and thin blue veins could clearly be seen beneath the surface of the skin. Like all Afrikaner boys, he was uncut. An ample foreskin covered the whole apple shaped bulb of his cockhead. He had no pubic hairs at all and there was no indication that the smooth elastic skin of his pubic area had ever been shaved. I yearned to touch him but I looked about nervously. Johan giggled. `Don't worry, it's still drizzling. You'll never see a Metro Cop out in this wet!' I looked over his nicely muscled chest, arms and shoulders and the well defined ridges of his belly. My mouth was dry and I licked my lips as the blood pounded in my head. `Now tell me you don't want this', said Johan, his eyes shining and his wide grin threatening to split his cheeks. For answer I reached out to touch his gorgeous cock. At the same moment Johan pulled up the flap of his dungarees and hitched up both straps. `Not here' he smiled, `Let's go to your hotel' We got back to the hotel in record time. I parked the car in the hotel parking garage and went up alone to collect my keycard from the front desk. Johan waited in the garage a while to give me time to get to my room. Carrying his small beach bag he took a service lift from near the laundry straight up to the tenth floor where my room was. No guest would ever have given him a second glance. Shirtless and barefoot boys are commonplace anywhere in Durban and especially in the hotels that front on to the Marine Parade. The bellhops, bar boys and housekeeping staff who all knew him as a rent boy would simply have winked and sent him on his way with perhaps a lewd comment. But Johan was anxious to avoid the front desk staff and some members of hotel management who took a dim view of what he did for pocket money and who might have thrown him out. I was standing at the door waiting and when the knock came I practically yanked Johan into the room. `Hey, whoa there' Johan laughed at my nervousness, `Relax, it's nearly midnight, no one's gonna worry us now' `Sorry', I said sheepishly, `I've never done this before'. `Don't worry about it, I done it plenty times and I'll teach you', said Johan, `But first let's get the business out the way' `Sure', I said `For fifty bucks you get one blowjob and for another hundred bucks you get to butt-fuck me once. You my last client so I kip here tonight plus you gimme fifty bucks for breakfast and you drive me home in the morning -- early, `cause I got to get to school by 8' `That's two hundred bucks, right?' I said `Ja, and you pay me now' `No problem. What do I get for three hundred bucks?' Johan grinned broadly as he undid the straps and let his dungarees fall to the floor around his ankles before stepping out of them, `For five hundred bucks you own me for the night and you can do whatever you want whenever you want it ...`cept ...you can't whip me tonight' `I don't want to whip you!' I said as I fiddled with the buttons of my shirt, my fingers clumsy with excitement and anticipation. Johan stepped up to help me, standing on his toes as his strong brown fingers nimbly worked their way down the buttons. His boy musk scent just under my nose was heady. The tip of his cock brushed against my thighs as he worked and my cock instantly erected under my shorts. `I don't mind ... really!' said Johan, `Lotsa guys like to whip me and I've learned to get off on it too'. But tomorrow I got a swimming gala at school and people will ask questions if I come there again with whip marks all over my back and arse.' `What did you tell them last time?' He laughed. `I made up some story about my mom's boyfriend beating me and then running away. I begged them not to tell the cops or he might come back and hurt my mom. They felt sorry for me and let it go, but they won't buy that story a second time!' `I suppose not, but they won't have to. I don't even have a whip.' `I've got one here!', he said, reaching into his beach bag and showing me a black braided leather whip tightly wound into a small coil. `No Johan!' I chuckled `I don't need it! Here's your three hundred bucks. Put it away in your bag so you won't forget it.' Johan pushed the whip back into his worn beach bag and took the cash from me. My eyes drank in the tanned perfection of Johan's body as he took the money and bent over to put it in a wallet that he fished out of his beach bag. Every shape and curve set my loins tingling: His broad brown feet with their well spaced toes, high arches and dirty leathery soles; his rounded calves and muscular thighs; his slim waist and hard round buttocks; his muscled back and shoulders, the bulges of his biceps and forearms; the uncut cock hanging down at least 5 inches on the slack and the large testicles hanging down slightly further in their smooth, pubeless, ball sac. He was a full head shorter than me and, despite his well-developed muscularity, I began to doubt if he was even 16. Perhaps it was his hairless pubic area or his exceptionally smooth skin. Perhaps it was just the way he spoke. There seemed to be a trace of innocence there despite his obvious sexual precociousness. Could he be 14 or even 13? My son was 13 but he was nowhere near as developed. Then I thought of some of the muscular well-developed 13 year olds in my Grade 8 son's rugby team with the big bulges in the fronts of their tight rugby shorts that had me watching every game. If they were 13 so could Johan be. I worried about this for a moment. Did it matter? If I was prepared to have sex with a 16 year old did it matter if the boy was really 14 or 13? A glance at the teenaged Eros in front of me settled the question. It wasn't going to matter tonight. `Now I need a shower' he said, `My foot soles are dirty and I'm still sweaty and I got an arse full of cum from the last guy that wanted a quickie in his car. Just before you came' `I love your dirty foot soles and the smell of your sweat and the thought of the cum in your arse just makes me more horny' `No, I want to shower with you', Johan replied simply, `It's part of the fun!' `Well, if you put it that way', I said, quickly pushing my shorts to my ankles and stepping out of them, 'lets go'. `You don't wear under rods either', observed Johan, `Cool!' We got into the shower. Being a Holiday Inn the shower was over the bath so there was ample room for the both of us. `Will you wash me?' Johan asked. I loved his simple directness. `It will be my pleasure' I replied. In fact I couldn't wait to get my hands on him. For the next half hour I slowly and carefully shampooed and soaped every centimeter of that firm and perfect body. When I got to his arse he spread his legs wide and asked me to pay special attention to his crack. He bent over and asked me to clean his hole, something I would in other circumstances have regarded as being too gross to contemplate. Somehow it was no problem for me then and I was happy to soap my fingers and insert first one and then two into his wet and soapy hole, twisting them about and pumping them in and out until his firm but elastic anus was clean. Then I had to do his cock and balls, an especial pleasure for me, pulling back his foreskin and soaping the swollen purple head at the top of his now erect and fully engorged cock. Fascinated by his smooth hairlessness I asked, `How often do you shave here? It doesn't look like you ever had any pubes!' Johan smiled. `I don't shave there! I just never had any pubes. Check, I don't have hair in my armpits either!' I looked. Sure enough his armpits were as smooth and hairless as a ten year old's. I looked at him enquiringly. He shrugged, `My mom says it's genetic. My father never had pubes either. Nor does my boetie (younger brother)' `I think it looks helluva sexy', I said `Ja, I know' he said matter-of-factly, `It used to worry me a lot but lotsa guys told me they like it'. I looked at him for a moment. `Okay, how old are you really?' He grinned at me. `Does it matter? `No it doesn't ... really! I just want to know' `Well ... I'm really fourteen' `Okay, then, I thought so!', I said, closing my fist around his by now bone stiff cock and gripping it hard, 'Though your cock and balls are huge for a boy so young!' `Ja', he chuckled, `That's what everyone says!' Finally we sat down opposite each other on the floor of the bath, our legs crossing over each other's as I scrubbed the leathery skin on the soles of his hard well-formed feet as clean as they could get. As I scrubbed Johan spoke, `So now I told you my real age, will you tell me your real name?' I looked up at him in surprise. `What do you mean? Jonathan is my real name' `Well most guys I go with give me a false name. They don't want me to know who they really are' `I see!' I replied, `Well my real name is Jonathan and when we get out the shower I'll show you my ID if you like' `No, I believe you. I was just asking' Then it was my turn and Johan returned every favour in full measure. As he soaped and washed my arse crack he remarked `You never had a cock up here, did you? `No I haven't. I told you I've never done this before!' `Well it hurts for a while the first few times you do it, but if you hold out the pain passes and gets really lekker! (nice). I'm gonna loosen you up a bit here so you can start to get used to it for when I fuck you just now' `Who says you're going to fuck me? I'm paying to fuck you!' `Ja, you're gonna fuck me! But I'm gonna fuck you too, cause you gonna want me to!' `Jeez! Nothing wrong with your confidence!' I said. Johan chuckled. `I'm bladdy good, mister! You gonna beg me for it, I promise you!' Johan got me on all fours in the bath and started playing with my anus, gently rubbing and pressing against it with a soapy finger, explaining how I could relax my sphincter. `Just pretend you're trying to have a shit' he said `What if I do have a shit?' `You won't but if you do its okay -- it's only shit -- we bum boys are used to it and we're in the bath already!' I laughed and then both of us fell silent as Johan slowly worked my anus. One slippery finger seemed to pop in eventually and made me suck in my breath quickly. Involuntarily my anus squeezed tight and gripped his finger. There was a stinging feeling that passed soon as Johan waited for me to relax again. `Does it hurt?', he asked `Just a bit, but it's okay now', I replied. Johan started pushing his finger in deeper, very slowly, until I felt his other fingers up against my arse. Then he pulled it out, slowly, almost all the way, before pushing back in again. For a while I felt his strong young finger pushing in and out slowly, gradually moving faster as he and I both felt my anus relaxing to accommodate his persistent intrusion. Then I felt his other hand moving between my legs and his thumb pressing against the bottom of my anus to open a way for a second finger to slide in next to the first. Again the sting of the sudden stretch caused my anus to clench momentarily and he waited for me to relax before going on. The sensations Johan was making me experience in a place that I had never touched before without a substantial wad of toilet paper were incredible. I could never have believed it without feeling it for myself. It was so strangely fulfilling and pleasurable that I found myself wanting him to go on and on, to penetrate me deeper and to fill me even more. My cock by now was rock hard and slapping eagerly against my belly as I panted on all fours like a puppy on heat. When Johan eventually slid his fingers out I felt as if something had emptied me and I moaned briefly in disappointment. `See, I told you, you gonna beg for it', Johan gloated `Can't you go on, please?', I begged `Don't worry, you gonna get plenty tonight, that was just a teaser to get your arse ready!' laughed Johan, `Let's get more comfortable on the bed.' Towelling ourselves hurriedly we made a dash for the bed, giggling and groping at each other as we went. I was thirty-eight years old but this sexy young Afrikaner boy was making me feel like a naughty teenager. Johan scrambled onto the bed and flipped himself over to lie on his back, his one hand behind his head and his feet crossed. He reached out for the TV remote and started flicking through the channels. I got onto the bed and knelt over him with my knees straddling his thighs. `Don't you have a porn channel?' he asked. `No such luck! This is a family hotel, remember?' I replied and grabbed the remote out of his hand, switched off the TV and tossed the remote onto the bedside cabinet. `Okay, we'll make our own!' he giggled and raised himself up onto his elbows. `Put your cock in my mouth', he instructed, his wide mouth open and inviting. I did so, shuffling forward on my knees until my balls were close to his face. I pushed my bone hard cock down to the horizontal and pushed its swollen head into Johan's welcoming mouth. His lips closed around my cockhead and I could feel his strong tongue exploring its surface and working energetically at the sensitive tip. Suddenly he sucked my whole shaft practically down the back of his throat, leaving my pendulous balls pushing against his chin. I almost doubled over at the intensity of the pleasure being generated by that blonde teenage head that was so voraciously attached to the tip of my cock. Simultaneously I felt Johan's hand slide up between my legs and one of his fingers probing insistently at my anus. It felt slippery and I realised he must have dabbed it through the precum now leaking copiously from the tip of his cock and puddling into his small flat navel where it nestled between the hard ridges of his belly muscles. I concentrated hard on relaxing my sphincter and was quickly rewarded by the feel of his finger sliding smoothly inside me and probing expertly for my prostate. Johan's blue eyes smiled their approval up at me as his lips continued to slurp up and down my rigid shaft. Just as I felt my cock would explode, Johan disengaged both his mouth and his finger and slithered out from underneath me. He patted me on my butt and said `Lie down on your back!' I did so. `Now spread your legs wide and lift them in the air!' As I complied, he shuffled around on his knees to take position between my legs. He put his hands against the backs of my knees and pushed them away from him so that my knees were resting on my shoulders with my anus wide open and facing slightly upward. `Grip your ankles and hold your legs like that', Johan said, `I'm just gonna lube you up a bit and then I'm gonna fuck you' Being slightly unfit I could not reach my ankles. Seeing me struggle Johan laughed and said, `Okay, grampa, just hold your legs here by your knees!' Johan jumped off the bed to fish a bottle of lubricant out of his bag of tricks and was back in a moment, rubbing the glistening stuff along the whole length of his cock. As he shuffled up to my exposed arse he rubbed some of it onto and around my anus with his thumbs, gradually pressing harder until eventually he gained entry and spent a few minutes thumb and finger fucking me with his slippery digits until he judged me ready to take his cock. I loved watching Johan's face as he worked. The tip of a pink tongue stuck out between his full lips as he concentrated on the job. Now and then his blue eyes would look up at me and his wide mouth would spread into a grin that made my belly lurch. Then he got me to lift my arse off the bed while he put a couple of pillows under it. Finally he was ready and after giving his cock a few quick tugs to ensure that it was still rock hard, he edged forward and pressed the purple tip of it against my arsehole. Slowly he teased it in with pressure from his hips and the help of a thumb as he leaned forward over me and supported his weight on one strong arm planted on the bed next to my ribs. I watched the six pack abs contracting under his smooth tanned skin as he worked his cock-head into me and I felt my own cock instantly swell even harder as I willed that thick intrusion into me. Finally his cockhead slipped in and Johan was able to support his upper body on both arms placed either side of my torso. He felt my arse contract momentarily with the stinging pain that met his entry past the barrier of my sphincter and he paused, his eyes locked with mine as he waited for the pain to pass. When I nodded that I was ready, Johan started to thrust his well practised cock slowly into me. I loved the way it seemed to fill me, and I do not mean just physically, as its slippery thickness slid inexorably forward. I found myself panting gently and wincing with each new pang of pain. `Are you okay?' Johan asked, `Do you want me to stop?' `Fuck, no!' I grunted, `It feels great!' When Johan had gone all the way in I held him there with my palms pressed against his hard round buttocks while the exquisite pain morphed slowly into a strange sensation of release and pleasure. Then I let go and he withdrew slowly until his swollen cockhead pulled up against the restriction of my sphincter. Instantly he started moving forward again, a little more insistently this time. Again I held him in me at full length, but this time just because I loved the feel of his rampant maleness filling my void, not because there was any pain. Gradually Johan pumped faster and harder. Soon the sweat poured off him and he was panting and grunting as his hips smacked wetly and rapidly against my butt cheeks. The naughty twinkle in his bright blue eyes had turned into the hard glint of lust; the smiling lips were drawn back against his perfect white teeth in an animal snarl of domination and his sweetly boyish face was contorted with the effort of conquest. I could not have stopped him if I wanted to, nor could Johan have stopped himself. He was the slave of his cock at that moment and entirely in its thrall. And so was I. Every fibre of my being thrilled to the onslaught of this beautiful young animal and I gave myself up entirely to his conquest, revelling in his strength, his hardness, his sheer maleness as he took me and owned me. Finally Johan's fucking accelerated to climax until his hard young body seemed to go into seizure above me. His eyes shut tightly and his body arched into a tightly muscled bow that quivered and shuddered as his cock pulsed and writhed deep inside me. I could feel his cock jetting its hot and slippery load into my arse. Johan let out a long moan of release and then collapsed forward onto me as his cock spasmed into stillness inside me. No longer a marauding Nordic warrior raping his captive slave but a young boy again, snuggling against my chest and purring as I ran my fingers through his sweat-matted blonde thatch and slid my hands over the glistening wet ridges of his muscled brown back. I would have been happy to lie and cuddle with this beautiful young boy but, with the vigour and power of recovery that healthy young boys the world over are cursed with, Johan suddenly lifted his head. `Now it's your turn!' he said. He scrambled up and looked down at my cock, which had been lying erect and rock hard between us and had left smears of my pre-cum on his belly. He reached down and folded his fingers around it, squeezing a couple of times as if testing it. `You're ready' he said, leaning over to pick his bottle of lube off the bedside cabinet. He squeezed a generous quantity into the palm of his hand and slathered it all over my cock. He reached between his legs and used the residue on his fingers to lube his anus before getting onto his hands and knees in front of me. `Put it in me', he said simply, looking back at me over his shoulder. `It's pretty big', I said, `It doesn't look like it'll fit!' For answer Johan backed his arse into me, pushing his crack against my cock and waggling it from side to side. `It'll fit!' he said, `Just push it in!' I pushed my cock down to the horizontal and pressed its swollen purple head into the inviting round depression leading to Johan's winking brown pucker. `How does he get it to do that?' I thought as my cockhead slid tightly but easily past Johan's well used sphincter into the warm moist channel beyond. `Ahh! ... Now push it in all the way! Hard!' Johan cried out. I thrust my hips forward hungrily and was surprised to see my cock go in all the way. `Pump it! Pump it!' Johan called out, `Harder! Harder!' I pumped my cock in and out of his elastic teenage arse harder and faster until the sweat poured off us both and all you could hear was the slapping of my hips against his butt cheeks and the rhythmic grunting of both of us, punctuated with ever more frequent moans and whimpers of pleasure. The exquisite pleasure radiating through my body from the tip of my cock suddenly intensified as I accelerated into climax. Johan felt it coming and he cried out `Don't stop! Don't stop!', as if that were even a possibility! As I fucked him with the frenzy of a jockey riding for the finish, Johan called out `Yes! Yes! I want your cum! Gimme your cum! Gimme your cum!' Though my brain told me that this was just part of the script for a seasoned rent-boy and that he would have picked up these corny and contrived expressions from watching countless porn movies, I found it incredibly arousing and it pushed me over the top. Great shuddering waves of ecstasy shook me like a man possessed to the very tips of my toes. My ears roared and I could feel my cock spasming as it squirted what felt like thick jets of cum deep inside Johan's arse. Afterward we showered together again and got into bed but there was not much sleeping that night. Johan taught me many things that night and basically changed my life forever. In between the sex Johan became quite chatty. He told me with disarming frankness that his mom was a sex worker. `But she only does calls. She doesn't work the beach front like me' he added with a chuckle, `I can give you her number ... seeing you swing both ways!'. When I politely declined, he said "Good! I don't like to share my clients!' `Am I a client?' I asked. `Sure, I give you my cell number and when you come to Durban you give me a call!' Johan said he was sure his mother knew what he was doing to make the money that he gave her every week, but she never asked and did not seem to mind. `How can she mind when she does it herself?' said Johan. When Johan and his brother Ben had been very young she had brought most of her clients home and by the time Johan was 10 years old there was nothing that he did not know about sex. In the same year he was introduced to man sex by one of his mother's boyfriends who lived with them for a while, a 25 year old called `Henk'. Unemployed and permanently horny, Henk turned his attention to Johan whenever his mom was out working, which was often. His mom found them at it when she came home unexpectedly one afternoon after school and threw Henk out. Johan missed Henk but soon afterward bumped into him at the swimming pools on the beach front where Henk was trying to pick up young boys. Within 10 minutes Henk was rogering Johan in a change cubicle and within an hour after that Henk had pimped Johan to two other men. Johan loved both the sex and the money and that was the start of his career as a Durban beach front rent boy. Johan's mother would not allow him to leave Ben home alone at night until Ben turned 10 years old. So for the first two years until Johan turned 12 he could only ply his rent boy trade in the afternoons after school. During the long nights waiting for his mom to come home Johan relieved his boredom by introducing Ben to boy sex. The 8 year old already knew from interested observation of his mother and her clients everything there was to know about sex between men and women. His keen interest made him a quick and ready learner when it came to learning about sex between boys. Soon Ben was also spending his afternoons hanging out at the beach front pools in his Speedo and disappearing every now and then into the change rooms for a blowjob or a hand job with some man that Henk had arranged. To Ben's disappointment Henk would not allow his youngest charge to be fucked in the arse until he turned 10. Although Johan, whose cocklet was impressive for a 10 year old, fucked him almost every night, Ben hankered for a greater challenge. So whenever Henk was not close by Ben would strip off his Speedo in the cramped change cubicle and manfully offer his young arse to be fucked, begging the client not to tell Henk. Few could resist the offer to pork that delectable little arse, especially as it was free (although many would tip Ben privately) and soon Ben built up a whole clientele of private clients who were not making their bookings through Henk. By the time Ben was 10 years old he was already an accomplished rent bottom. `Nest time you come to Durban I'll bring him with me. He's only 12 but he's the best boy fuck you will ever have next to me', he said. "I taught him!' he added proudly. The thought made me instantly hard and started another round of passionate sex with my boy lover. No sex that I had ever had, ever before, and I had only ever been with women, had ever been so utterly great. Nothing in my memory could match the incredible fucking that this 14 year old boy gave me that night. I was instantly deeply in love with him. I wanted to own him, to make him mine forever. I went a little mad. I made him wild promises. He listened to it all politely, saying nothing. He had heard it all before, of course. He knew that in the cold light of dawn reality would sink in, that I would go back to my wife and kids and he to his mom and his younger brother. I would go back to Johannesburg and my career. He would go back to his usual daily routine of school in the morning, beach in the afternoon and sex for cash at night. And that was how it was. He woke me early and I took him home, dropping him on the pavement outside a block of flats where he said he lived just off Point Road, which was Durban's red light district, being conveniently situated close to both the harbour and the beach front. Johan, and later also his brother Ben, was a magnet that drew me to Durban whenever I could get away for several years after that first encounter. But those are tales for another day.