By Rob Loveboy
edits by Len Homber
copyright reserved
Recently divorced, I needed a vacation. No phones, emails or even a goddamn pen and paper in sight. On a whim, a Last Minute Club booking, I flew from western Canada to Cancun, Mexico. An all inclusive resort where I could get my monies worth, stay drunk and eat well. The beach was yards from my ground floor condo suite; waiters took orders and delivered what ever a guest wanted from the bar. A twenty a day kept him ever observant of my hydration needs in the hot sun.
It was serene, the water turquoise and the beach of white sand with a green flora jungle back-drop. Clothing was optional on the beach; I enjoyed my nudity under the warm sun along with a few other men and women who dared. Unfortunate the view was of --mostly obese men and women with full body tans except where their flabby bodies prevented the sun from shining. At forty-two years-old, I was no buffed gym-jock, but swimming kept me self-confident enough to display my naked body without shame.
Intimidating were the todorista policia passing often armed with Uzis patrolling the beach-front of several five-star resorts stretching five-miles up and down the coast. I knew there must be a good reason, bandits were plentiful in Mexico and were not discriminate on where they operated. I felt safe, yet frightened by their presence.
Not minutes later, cops out of sight, kids came out of the jungle peddling everything imaginable that could be carried by hand. A bare-chested teenager of about thirteen wearing skimpy cut-off shorts squatted beside me ignoring my nudity and offered me jewelry made by his mother. His fingers were laden with rings and his arms cluttered with silver bracelets, his neck appeared weighted down with necklaces.
I didn’t speak a work of Spanish shunning the handsome boy away with a wave. He was persistent and I was getting more annoyed at the intrusion of my privacy hoping another armed cop would come along and beat the kid with the butt of his rifle. The boy was also wise to that possibility never taking his eyes off the surrounding area like an animal well aware that predators were amok and prepared to pounce on him.
I didn’t want any souvenirs, never one to buy shit to bring home for people to put away and never look at again. I know I have a drawer full of too small t-shirts and spoons… spoons good for fuck all; even babies would get pissed off eating from those! Nope, I am not much a fan of souvenirs.
The teen was flogging a dead horse trying to sell me his wares. I was naked for fuck sakes… DAH! I told him I don't keep cash up my ass. The same necklace selling for forty-dolla, suddenly dropped in value to five-dolla.
“A five-dollar blowjob would be nice!” I said without much thought hoping to scare him away.
What was meant as a joke that I even doubted he would even understand, the kid looked me square in eye and said, ten dolla… twenty you cum in mouth. Or special today, for you, senor, thirty dolla for fuck me, --yes?” he grinned.
* * *
Memories flashed through my head. My best friend Marcus and I got drunk on his dad's homemade wine… ‘White Lightening’ his dad called it. We were thirteen and spending the night in his backyard tent. My father’s stash of porn mags borrowed from the garage tool chest fuelled odor over active testosterone charged aura. We had jerked off together a few times, always by cover of sleeping-bags, socks used to mop up the aftermath. We must have thought odor moms were naive peeling apart the stiff socks on laundry day.
Marcus and I had seen each other naked a few times changing at the swimming pool… and I have to admit, glancing at him ever so quickly as he peed at the urinal. All I knew was that he was larger than me, uncut, once I saw him peeling back his sheath exposing a reddish bulb to pee where my circumcised head was mushroom shaped.
Something was in the air, an aura that even today I cannot describe. Unzipped sleeping-bags, only a fold of which covered odor nudity, we looked at the magazines discretely touching ourselves, both knowing the other was doing the same, peripheral vision maintaining curiosity as somehow both boys became fully exposed, the sleeping-bag somehow at thigh level by squirming uncontrollably while one hand was occupied, the other holding the magazine to his face.
My eyes wandered left, not only capturing Marcus’ playing with his thick five-inches, his foreskin gliding so fluidly up and down his shaft, but his eyes watching me tease myself ever so slowly. Never had I ever thought I would be turned on by another guy. Hell, we both had girlfriends, neither of whom put out other than a hand rub over odor hard cock over odor jeans. We considered that first base, odor hands groping their breasts never allowed to unbutton the blouse. Nonetheless, it led to fantastic jerk off sessions, my mind preparing for the day Kimberly would succumb to my begging of to simply strip naked together, not intercodorse, I had no condoms, just oral sex to prove odor love.
Only a week earlier, during a heavy petting session did I open my pants and she dared explore my genitals. The second she touched me I came. She looked at her hand and grimaced, then wiped it on the sheets. Probably my heaviest load ever being so turned on.
I fought back demons. Marcus looked every bit, if not more, appealing to me. Never had I thought of another guy that way… I would have beaten the snot out of a guy who ever tried to come on to me. Blame it on the ‘White-Lighting’ wine, I reached over and took Marcus’ cock in my hand and stroked him.
I was scared shitless by my unprecedented initiative, my hand and arm shook in fear. I kept my eyes staring at the ceiling for unknown reasons, perhaps fear, both my hands masturbated cock, the one in my left hand was thick and meaty, my own thin and bony.
When I felt Marcus take me in his warm palm, my sigh of relief could never describe my sense of fear quenched, the world lifted off my shoulders. The magazines held closer to odor faces if for no other reason than a horny excuse to beat each other off in a moment of bizarre, heated passion and saving face at in the process.
I continued to stare at the ceiling not daring to look at what was in my hand for fear that I might give away how much I was enjoying it. It scared the hell out me… a guy wasn’t suppose to jerk off another guy… we all had odor own hands for that! I was never so turned on in my life, even cumming prematurely in Kim’s hand, I was more than excited.
Marcus said the magic words that the thought of which had crossed my mind. “Blow me, dude… I want one so bad.” he moaned.
If there ever had been a better invitation to explore beyond my fear that was it. I shuffled down, studied the beautiful meat in my hand and tasted pre-cum and cock for the first time. I knew what to do instinctively, never having given a BJ or received one, the act came naturally. Marcus squirmed, his hands on my head, my shoulders between his thighs telling my how good it felt. I swallowed his cock all the more, five thick-inches somehow managed at the base of my throat.
Marcus did the polite guy thing, he told me he was ready to cum. I could either save face and jerk him off, or allow him to cum in my mouth. I sucked and stroked him vigorously; seconds later I heard him squeal and tasted him not a second later. Marcus held my head down on his cock as if I had plans of suddenly abandoning him spewing stream after stream surprised as hell at the density and at it’s sweetness. I came without touching myself. Seconds later I was ashamed of myself, spat his cock out of my mouth and made an exaggerated ploy of spitting out his jism.
That night was never talked about again. I tried to put it out of my mind as a drunken lapse in judgment. I jerked off night and morn thinking about eating out Kimberly. Marcus’ cock soon replaced Kim’s pussy in my fantasies. I beat myself up for having those thoughts after I came and ate my own cum pretending it was Marcus’ load.
Three weeks later, we got drunk again on the fermenting wine. That night, James, Marcus’ sixteen year-old cousin stayed overnight. James decided for no apparent reason to take a shower, the basement-playroom bathroom equipped with a small stall for guests.
Marcus and I were lying on the floor on odor sleeping-bags watching a hockey game on TV. James stripped off his clothing stumbling about in a drunken stupor.
I tried to ignore his naked body standing above me, my indiscretion was weeks behind me and thankfully never mentioned thereafter. James wasn’t as endowed as well Marcus, he was smaller in length, but much broader in width, cut, a large mushroom-cap nestled between ping-pong ball size orbs. He engaged me in conversation as he stripped. Hockey was the topic and he had my undivided attention and excuse to see his nudity from my angle looking up at him. I then noticed the tuft of chest hair center of his developing pecs, and the black trail from his belly-button to the forested expanse between his thighs.
I made a serious effort to not look at boys in my gym class showers determined that I wasn’t a fag. What I did with Marcus was a one time drunken indiscretion that meant nothing and stayed between us. Yet I felt everyone somehow knew. I even imagined that some guys were ignoring me at school. However, I came to my senses, those guys never really did acknowledge my existence in the first place, I was being paranoid.
Something told me that James was coming onto me, a gut feeling. I don’t know why I did, but I opted to take a piss and watch James through the glass shower stall. My cock hardened watching him jerk off watching me piss. I was scared shitless about where we were headed, what we might do, and that I wanted to suck his cock. I sat down on the toilet, the message loud and clear; he stepped out of the shower dripping wet and stood in front of me. Not a word had been said, I leaned forward and took him in my mouth, a hand followed and fondled his large balls. James’ knees wobbled his breath loud and labored, he began to face-fuck me holding my head and literally ramming it into my throat. I gagged and choked, James eased up his frenzy. I regained my composure and went back down on him. He came in torrents blasting my throat. I had heard somewhere that ejaculate travels at a velocity of 22 mph, the fluid filled my airway and I choked again. The shit was coming out of my nose, not only did I taste his cum, more bitter than Marcus, I smelled it long afterward.
I could tell by the look Marcus gave me when James and I returned, he knew what I had been doing in the bathroom with his cousin. I was red faced and ashamed wanting to kill myself. When James asked for a repeat performance the next morning, I obliged him right in front of Marcus. odor friendship came to an abrupt halt when James started spreading the word at school. I never sucked another cock from that day forward.
As I got older the urges became unbearable. I married Kim at nineteen hoping my ugly feelings would go away. They didn’t, worse, my thoughts turned to young boys --anything around eight years-old to 12 or 13. I kept the fetish in check all my adult life, only looking at kids from afar. Change rooms, showers and urinals fuelled my fantasies that I jerked off too far too frustratingly long.
* * *
The young Mexican teen opened his fly and showed me his flaccid cock. “Ten dolla, you suck?”
I was impressed by its size, uncut with a long foreskin. I could see some pubic hair above his base inside the open zipper. He pointed at my growing cock, giggled, and said, “Senor like ... yes?” His hand then took my cock causing it to fully harden in a millisecond. I looked around satisfied that no one else was paying any attention, but dared not let him blow me right there in the open, although he was fully prepared to if I asked.
I wrapped myself in the beach towel and took him the short distance to my room. For the first time since Marcus and James, I had sex with a boy, even fucked one for the first time. My stamina shocked me, I felt like I was a teenager again having four orgasms in as many hours.
I learned his name was Carlo hours later. We lost much trying to communicate, however, his broken English and my shattered Spanish got us through. Carlo was staying the night. I ordered room service for dinner, received a displeased look from the waiter seeing Carlo lying on the bed playing a game on my phone, both of us clad only in a towel.
The staunch servant of around age forty raised his nose and said in perfect English, “Sir, the resort policy is no local guests…”
I shut him up with a twenty-dollar tip, and closed matters saying, “Senor, for $350 a night, --it is none of the resorts business who I entertain in my suite.” for added bonus and confirm what the man surmised, I said, “He’s bought and paid for… now so are you … fuck off!”
Carlo had probably never feasted on prime rib and lobster-thermidor, he made a huge sandwich of it and like every kid, ignored the vegetables. I began to feel guilty for using him sexually. He reminded me of any kid, my phone still being played in his greasy fingers. Well, I was almost feeling guilty. I got between his legs under the table, spread the towel and sucked his cock to a very quick erection. He began to fidget and squirm saying something I didn’t understand, he couldn’t have been coming that soon.
“Peepee” he said over and over until I realized what he was saying.
The thought of him pissing in my mouth made my cock twitch again, “Yes. Si, peepee, Carlo!” Somehow, I knew it wasn’t the first time Carlo urinated in a man’s mouth, but it was the first time someone did in mine. His pee was bitter and flowed so rapidly that it was pouring from the sides of my mouth unable to swallow fast enough.
Desert was a strawberry sherbet that was melting by the time I took his spoon away, dipped my hard cock in his bowl and fed him it. I repeated the process several times before adding my own cream over his taste buds.
I had dozed off for a few hours, awakened to a dark room. Carlo was not there.
Panic struck me until I remembered that I had secured my wallet in the room safe. He hadn’t been paid for his services rendered, and his cheap jewelry was still on the night table where he had left them. I knew wherever he had gone, he would surely be back.
I took a shower and shaved admiring my full-body redness from the sun that would turn to a bronze tone by morning. Grabbing an ice-cold bottle of cerveza from the mini bar, I sat outside and listened to the night creatures off in the jungle. I then saw the flashlights of police still patrolling the beach and worried about Carlo for some strange reason. Something told me that those same federal police keeping me safe on the beach would beat the snot out of peddlers and hustlers in a heartbeat.
Half hodor later three kids ran past into my condo, one I recognized as Carlo. Two flashlights obviously in pursuit scanned the area. The policemen approached me all smiles asking if I had seen children run past. A flashlight beam homed in on my genitals confirming the cop’s suspicion that I was indeed sitting naked on my veranda. I didn’t make a move to cover myself. Public nudity was a crime punishable to citizens of Mexico, --not tourists.
“Yes, Sir. I saw them run that way.” he lied, pointing right.
“Gracias, senor... Buenas Noches.”
I was curious as hell who Carlo had dragged into my suite. I found the three hiding in the bathroom.
“Mi hermana y hermano … brudder and sistor.” he said, “Marco and Maria.”
The boy was about 10, the girl eleven. They appeared very frightened at the naked man towering above them. I became conscious of that and quickly covered myself with a towel for the little giggly girl’s sake.
“My family.” Carlo reiterated in case I hadn’t understood that they were his brother and sister. My concern was why the hell he brought them to my suite. They were dirty looking; clothes tattered and torn had seen better days. Carlo said something and they began to strip as he turned on the shower. When I saw the raw welts on Marco’s back… there was no doubt he had recently been beaten. Carlo stripped naked and began washing his siblings.
The shower was odd in the fact that it wasn’t in the bathroom, but outside it in a corner. The large bathing area had only a curtain for privacy that I thought was probably an afterthought addition at some point in the aging resort
I was confused as to what the hell was going on and should have turned and walked away leaving them to their privacy. I stood there gawking at their naked bodies. Marco’s tiny cock hung about an inch. Carlo pulled back the foreskin to wash the boy, however, I sensed his motives to be erotic for my sake exposing the small pink head longer than necessary, his own cock erect stroking his brother who soon sported a three inch erection.
I should have turned away when his hand began caressing Maria’s hairless genitals, a finger sliding inside her butterfly shaped crack. Carlo was putting on a sex show on my behalf. Maria smiled and stroked her older brother. I wasn’t certain if I let the towel fall from covering my groin or it had slipped from my hands, either way, I stood fully exposed to the children rock hard. Marco, instructed by Carlo to reach over and touch me, the cute boy looked up and smiled, I could tell that he was unsure, I stepped into the shower, smiled back, took his hand undermine moving it up and down my shaft giving him the reassurance that I was cool with it.
My discomfort was being naked and erect in front of the little girl who was staring at my manhood barely covered by her brothers hand. Frankly, she looked rather terrified which intimidated me even more. I had the distinct feeling that my life was about to change forever that night.
I wanted to ask thirteen year-old Carlo why he brought his siblings back to my condo and was so blatantly offering them to me on a silver platter. I was pretty sure it was for financial gain, although no money had been discussed as yet. I admit that I was planning on asking him if he could supply younger boys for me over the week, maybe sample every age down the line.
Somehow I had a strong feeling that Carlo could provide a newborn if asked.
Carlo sat on my lap as we enjoyed a cerveza watching Marco fuck his sister on the bed. I was erect between his thighs, my cock against his balls getting a handjob as I returned the favor.
“You fuck Maria?” Carlo offered
I replied, “I fuck Marco!”
He shrugged, “Hokay… do now!”
Lubing my cock was painful, sure that I would cum before topping the kid doing his sister. I looked back at Carlo and asked, “Marco a virgin?”
“Yes, senor. He nev have man… you first!”
Yeah, right. Ask a dumb question you get what you want to hear in response. I believed that with a grain of salt at first. The ten year-old was indeed tight, perhaps Carlo was not lying. Marco tried to rear his head, my chest holding it cheek to cheek with Maria both smothered under my weight. I eased up my chest and pushed harder looking down at the duo, doubting Marco was still erect inside her. All that could be heard was Marco panting and my own heaving breaths as I buried deeper inside him.
I gave him too much leeway and he slithered out from under me. I found myself on the little girl. Carlo was quick to assist and directed my cock into his sister. Not as tight as the boy, I slid forth into the quivering girl. Not for a second did I doubt that she was not enjoying it, her legs slid from beneath and circled my hips. She had been there before, without a doubt … with a man or two, not just her brothers.
I felt Carlo behind me; suddenly his tongue was basting my balls, one sucked into his mouth painfully trying to keep up to my wild gyrations on his sister. I hauled Marco over by his arm to squat in front of me and sucked him off, the smell of his sister’s cunt fresh on his cock. It wasn’t the usual strong fishiness of a female that I knew well, she was hardly old enough to secrete the natural lubrication, it was more of a musty stale odor, like old bread with a hint of sardines, I concluded. I knew one thing for sure… she was too young to fall pregnant, and even if she did, I thought while I saturated any potential ovaries deeper inside the tight vagina, I would be 3.000 miles away and never know I was a daddy.
Carlo fucked her next. I was certain that he was flopping around in a vortex. Her pussy was red and swollen and gaping when I was done with her. After Carlo had his way, he made his little brother suck the cum from her twat, his face glistening afterwards, wiping his mouth with his forearm.
Carlo laughed, looked at me and said, “No baby now, senor!”
It would be senseless on my part to teach him birth control methods other than his own method of ‘fuck then suck it out’ that he deemed appropriate. Not my business, my cock’s pink eye had its sights on Marco’s rectum.
One of the most popular tourist attractions of Mexico are the pharmacy stores. You can buy anything off the shelf and pay for it at a cash-register operated by a pimply-faced kid. Viagra and Cialis is most probably their largest selling commodity bought in bulk by tourists cheaply and smuggled back home. I took a blue wonder-pill earlier not wanting the night to end with erectile deficiency.
Marco held his own knees to his chest while I excavated the pink bubble gum-looking hole with my tongue and fingers. Carlo sucked my cock. Maria had thankfully fallen asleep, my guilt and shame, loss of decency and common sense played on my mind. I pulled the bed sheet over the angelic face and head to block out her presence any longer.
I instructed Carlo to fuck his little brother first. I spread the cheeks for him, directed his cock dead-on after giving him a few good strokes and a suck enough to salivate it, then, for all intents and purposes, watched him dry fuck his little brother before I spread him wider.
Damn, the kid was tight when I took my turn abusing him. He screamed out in pain however, after Carlo yelled at him, he resorted to only a whimper, his legs held over my shoulders by Carlo, my arms holding his shoulders and my weight to keep him in place with his head buried in my chest, merciless, I drove into him with three hard thrusts finally bottoming out somewhere in his cavity. I rested, my cock ached from the resistant pressure exerted entering the coke bottle-tight rectum.
I started to pump and heard him squeal. “Mucho dolor … it hurt … por favor, senor!?” I drilled him deep on every thrust. Carlo said something again that silenced Marco back to a whimper; I could feel the boy’s tears running down my chest. I swear that when I came, my cock was deeper into his gullet than ever before, my groin mashed against his bum striving to go impossibly deeper.
Marco and Carlo cuddled me, their legs over my hips and heads on each of my tits and fell into a slumber. My arms hugged each neck and shoulder close to me. I even hauled little Maria onto my chest. I shook my head… what came over me to ever abuse such innocent children? I answered my own question. It was a way of life, survival. If I wasn’t awake they’d rob me blind. Yes, my wallet was safely in the room-safe along with my passport.
Regardless, I didn’t want the kids to sleep over … except Marco. I made a deal with Carlo to keep the kid; I wasn’t finished with him yet. They snuck out by in the cover of darkness, hopefully the policia had forgotten about the trespassers and they made it home safely … wherever that was.
Paying Carlo, I asked him if he had younger boys for rent. Dumb question, of course he did. I placed an order for an 8 and nine year old for the next night. “No Aztec Indian!” I stressed, “Gringo Mexican only, or Mayan.”
“Si, senor. I bring you nice boys, more money … American dolla, si?”
“Si.” I agreed, by more money he meant another five-bucks a head. Dirt cheap sex trade. Carlo would get a hefty bonus in the end.
to be continued . . .
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