Date: Thu, 29 Nov 2001 00:50:46 +0000 From: skaar skaar Subject: 'Boy Narcissus' - Gay male - Older/Younger - Part I At thirteen, I'd never considered myself to be good looking or, for that matter, not good looking. It was simply something I'd never thought about. But, with light brown hair with naturally sun-bleached golden highlights, a year-round bronzed tan and a large chest, easily my best and most noticeable feature, I probably stood out among my peers - shorter, perhaps, but definitely more muscular and defined for my age. I loved the beach, so it was never a burden to spend the Summer months with my grandmother at her beachside home while my parents worked in the city. The living was easy, the atmosphere relaxed and it was just a short walk to the quiet beach used only by the few who lived in the small cluster of shacks in the dunes. As a child, my grandmother would entertain me during the days. As I grew older and more independent and adventuruous, she'd spend most of her days painting, leaving me to my own devices. It was on one of these hot, still Summer days that I decided to ride my bike along the miles of beaches to explore. In truth, of course, I'd heard that there was a nude beach nearby and, through embarrassment, not wanting to ask specific directions from my gran, I set out to find it, the powerful hormones of my young body driving me on. It took some riding on the flat, hard beach sand but, when I rounded the last point, carefully negotiating the rocks, I knew I'd found what I'd been looking for. There, dotted on about three or four miles of pristine white sand were bodies - all naked. I could feel my heart race and my groin stir as I tried casually to ride along the sand without staring at each new and fascinating sight beside me. In the high dunes above, I could see the nut-brown forms of others, all men, all naked, strolling or standing, surveying the beach and their surrounds. It was as exhiliarating as it was terrifying. After some time, I reached the end of the beach, quite some distance from the nearest person sunbaking. I laid my bike down and rested high on the beach at the foot of the dunes in the soft, dry sand, wondering what to do next. My hairless groin felt on fire and my throbbing cock felt like it would burst. I looked around for some time to ensure I was alone before wheeling my bike up into the dunes. Finding a spot between some of the sparse scrub and grasses, I laid down my bike, and took off my T-shirt, followed quickly by my shorts, but leaving my briefs on. I stood facing the sun and ran my hands over my large pecs, down my washboard stomach to my hard-on which I brushed lightly with my hands. One more glance around to make sure I was alone, and I quickly pushed my briefs down before I changed my mind, releasing my hard boycock like a spring, and kicking my underwear aside. The sun's heat licked and caressed my hairless young body, its warmth heightening the fire in my groin. I stood, head thrown back, eyes closed, like a young sun God worshipping the golden disc and allowing it to worship me. "Magnificent", said a voice quietly beside me, causing me to jump. It was a man, perhaps in his 60s, with white hair, deep brown leathery skin and the longest, most pendulous cock I could ever have imagined. Instinctively, I reached for my underwear. "Don't", he said, in a soft and calming voice. "Beauty should be celebrated, not hidden". And, with that, he took a step closer. I felt my face burn with embarrassment. There I was, standing stark naked, with the biggest hard-on of my life, in front of a man, also naked, who was acting as if this was the most natural and everyday occurence. "Let me drink your beauty", he said, raising one hand and gently caressing my honey-brown locks. "So soft", he said, moving his hand down one side of my face. "So smooth", he said, moving his hand to my shoulder then onto my right pectoral. "What a chest for someone so young", he whispered quietly, with awe in his voice, almost to himself. I began to tremble, both through the excitement of my arousal and my nervousness at being touched in such an intimate way as I'd never been touched before. Reading my mind, he said: "We're alone. There's no need to worry". He drew me towards him. Without thinking and without flinching, I melted into his embrace, my head resting on the lower part of his smooth, weathered chest. I could feel electricity as our skin touched. He softly embraced me and gently stroked my hair, cooing words quietly that I couldn't make out. I felt warm. I felt safe even in the arms of this stranger. Guiding me by the arm, he led me to lie on my back on the hot sand, lying beside me on his side propped up on one elbow. "Close your eyes, my sweet Adonis, and let me adore every inch of your beauty". I complied and felt the gentle caress of his fingers along my cheek, over my lips, down my neck to my nipples which he circled languidly with one finger. "Magnificent" he said, barely audibly, "Exquisite". I felt my heart pound with excitement and pride that this man of such years could find me so attractive that he'd want to touch my young body so gently and so lovingly. The light touch of his fingers continued to my groin and inner thighs while he leant over and ever so gently kissed my cheek, followed by my lips, then my chest and nipples. My cock throbbed mercilessly with excitement and trepidation. His hand gently cupped my low-hanging balls whilst his lips gently kissed my rock-hard boy erection, its virgin-pink head bright and shiny in the hot sun. "Perfection" he said, again almost to himself. "Sweet perfection". I felt a spasm through my body; an involuntary contraction from deep in the core of my being. It felt like I was about to burst. I looked down, past the head of the man adoring my young form, to see a thin, watery fluid on my golden brown stomach. "Perfection", said the man again, gently licking the wetness. A sound. A rustle of bushes. The man jumped and I leapt to my feet. Without thinking, I grabbed my clothes and my bike and headed down the slopes to the beach, dressing and fumbling as I went. I leapt on my bike and cycled off in a panic, my heart thumping, my cock now limp, cold and wet. I glanced back over my shoulder to see the man atop the dunes, one hand raised, not in a wave, but in a kind of salute. * I couldn't sleep. The events of the day had me tossing and turning, my young cock as hard as steel. 'He said I was beautiful'. The thought kept going through my head, along with the way he worshipped my small muscular frame. I smiled to myself. 'He said I was beautiful'. My chest felt like it would burst with pride. * I rode the beach four times, looking everywhere. No sign. Not even standing at the top of the dunes. Dejected, I returned to the spot I had chosen the day before, hoping against hope that I'd see him. I looked around, but nothing. Why was this man so adoring of my body? Why did he want to touch me, caress me, love me? I didn't understand. I just knew I liked it - not just the touches, not just the sensations it elicited in my body, but, much more, how good it made me feel to be wanted and desired. Perhaps I was good looking, after all. My mother had always said it, but moms are supposed to do that, I think. What ever it was, I liked it and I wanted to feel that way again. I spread a towel on the sand. After looking around, I took off all my clothes, far more easily and less nervously than the day before. I laid face-down on my towel, feeling the sun's heat immediately beginning to sear my hairless white butt. My cock was instantly aroused and I ground its hard flesh into the soft sand beneath my towel, enjoying the pleasure and the faint hint of pain at the same time. Thoughts of the old man ran through my head. I turned and laid on my back, arms behind my head, exposing my hairless armpits to the sun's rays and feeling them scorch the skin. My cock laid hard against my flat washboard stomach, occasionally jerking involuntarily. Unconsciously, I reached down and played with its smooth head and thin shaft, making stroking movements. I caressed my hairless balls, hanging low in their sack. Without warning, two spasms and again a shot of fluid on my stomach. I looked down and wiped it away feeling strangely sated and at peace. I stood up and looked around over the bushes. I was alone - a lone sunworshipper in his naked beauty. My cock hung heavily atop my balls. Where was my friend? Where was the man who could make me feel so good with a word and a touch? Tentatively, I explored my area, aware of my nakedness and exposure to the world. No-one. I followed a path that led to another path and onto another. I must remember not to get lost among the scrub and dunes, I thought. A head popped up from behind a bush. It was a man who stared at me disbelieving. I hurried on. Around a corner of a thick coppice of scrub, two men, standing naked, chatting. One eyed me up and down hungrily. I turned and went back the way I came, hurrying to get back to my safe haven in the bushes. I looked back over my shoulder. Calmly, but purposefully, the man who had eyed me up and down so salaciously was following. Then the first man I saw. I increased my pace, my legs trembling with fear, the exposure of my nakedness uppermost in my mind. At last, my haven! I ran up the last small dune and burst through between the bushes, stopping abruptly at the sight of a naked man on his thirties standing beside my towel. ** Note: Should anyone be interested in learning more about Boy Narcissus' experiences, they can email me at skaaroz@hotmail.com and I will write further installments.