Date: Tue, 27 May 2003 23:40:33 +0000 From: cristobal CR Subject: Mindblower Exploring South America in the year 2003, I was impressed by the kindness of the people everywhere, but nothing had prepared me for what I was about to experience. I arrived at the beach town's bus terminal by mini-van midday. The air was hot and humid, a welcome change from the cool mountains I had been trekking. I managed to shake the vendors and would-be guides, preferring to walk to the waterfront alone. One never knew when an incredible boy might be encountered, so I always considered it better to walk alone when becoming familiar with new surroundings. At the waterfront there were many rickety shacks built atop slender wooden poles. The habitations were not painted, and it seemed as if a mild breeze could push them all into the water. In the distance behind them the bay met the ocean. To my right was a pier. To my left was a half-submerged 1940-something yacht that looked like it had been quite a vessel before it ran aground about a dozen years ago, according to the locals. The long waterfront was walled by steep cement steps which descended down into the water. Three boys, two black and one brown, were frolicking in the bay. My feet were automatically set in motion. A number of shacks had plastic chairs and a few tables placed in front of them. I dumped my backpack on a chair in front of the boys and sat in one next to it as I ordered a Coke. Momentarily, the boys climbed the stairs. To my amazement, two of them were completely naked. The other wore skimpy, thread-bare bikini underwear. In my travels, I've seen naked boys at play in the water and sand in several countries, but usually they were under ten years old. These boys were twelve to fourteen. With a running start they flew by me, soaring over the edge with their legs splayed and landing on their assholes. There were also flips and shallow dives. We made eye contact from time to time. They seemed curious about me. I decided I had to go find a hotel and get changed into my shorts. I returned to my same seat under an hour later. There were now eight boys playing in the water. I ordered a beer this time since I was feeling a bit anxious. Buying potato chips from a black boy I guessed to be fourteen, he continued to stand by my side wearing only wet briefs -- obviously having taken a swim break from his work. I invited him to sit down and learned his name was Alexandro. We watched the boys at play. A naked light brown boy of thirteen was diving down in shallow water, walking on the bottom with his hands and spreading his legs above the surface, prominently displaying his butthole. Several of the other boys were soon slapping at his buns and poking a finger at his hole on each dive. "That's Marica," Alexandro informed me in Spanish. I knew that "marica" meant queer. "We've all had his ass." I smiled, and Alex's broad lips did likewise. A smaller, but muscular naked twelve year-old was next to join our table, probably because he noticed me paying attention to his build. Black head shaved, quick mischievous smile, and a fine hairless cock -- uncircumsized, as they all are. They called him Felipe. The last chair was quickly filled by a brown fourteen year-old, Jose, normally something most boy-lovers would die for, but I was very interested in intimately knowing my first black boy. Perhaps the fact that Jose was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt hurt his chances. He was well-educated, and talked non-stop, trying to monopolize my attention. It was clear he wanted to be my choice, but I insisted that I wanted to explore a little first since I had just arrived. It was my excuse to put him on hold. The boys below continued to poke at Marica's butt, and grab him from behind play-fucking him. By late afternoon, there were many more passers-by. I was surprised that none of the men told them to knock off the fag shit. Nor did any of the women tell the boys to behave themselves. Moreover, they hardly even noticed! This was a male-dominated society, and the boys were free to do as they pleased. Furthermore, there are no police in this country other than the military. Thus, they were not concerned with nor authorized to police consensual relations. As the sun set, I somehow managed to excuse myself, grab a bite to eat, then went to my room to contemplate what could be over a nip of rum and Coke. I had a view of the street below, and soon saw many of the swimmers walking up the street. I waved to a couple of them, thereby disclosing my location. Eventually they disappeared from my view...all except studly little Felipe. I signaled to him that I was coming down to walk the park at the waterfront. We met outside and were suddenly accompanied by a thinner brown boy about Felipe's height. Barefooted in lightweight pants and grubby blue shirt, I slowly began to notice his features...his big brown eyes, slightly oversized ears and mouth, and a very cute and expressive face. Suddenly I found myself wondering if he might like to go somewhere secluded with me, and perhaps with Felipe since they seemed to be good friends. I found out his name was Jordan and he was just nine years old. We walked up a small hill and back down, not drawing any very curious looks. Proceeding out to the waterfront, we found a high-backed concrete seat in a dimly lit area and talked about things such as the big ships moving up the bay. Felipe took my hand in his as our fingers caressed. Next, he stretched out on the seat on his back and layed his head on my lap. My other hand found Jordan's bare foot and calf and stroked it. I was in heaven. A boy came walking by in front of us, looked at us, nodded a greeting, and passed. I realized it was the one they called Marica who had displayed his ass so precociously in the water that afternoon. "That's my brother," Jordan stated. "He is? I passed him cruising the streets several times earlier in the evening," I said. "Looking for a man, right?" "Yep." Jordan was so non-chalant about the idea that it led me to believe he also had some experience. I moved my hand up his leg. "May I touch you there?" I asked. His eyes gazed warmly at me as his legs opened a bit. I reached for his fly and was surprised to find it open. I slid two fingers inside his pants, felt no underwear, and found his penis hard. A surge of adrenalin coursed through my veins. Jordan's big brown eyes looked longingly into mine, encouraging me to stroke him. His hips began to thrust ever so slightly. My other hand had moved to Felipe's chest, enjoying that, but wanting to touch my own erection. Part of the thrill for me was doing it in front of such a beautiful night view of the bay, though here passersby could come at any moment. We occasionally looked both directions and casually glanced over our shoulders, but the majority of the time our eyes were locked on each others'. I wanted to kiss him, but our heads could be seen above the concrete back of the seat. Sliding his foreskin back and forth he was having dry orgasms. "Someone's coming," he said. I figured we had a few more seconds. "Someone's coming," he breathed a bit more urgently. Someone did come, just seconds after I did -- one of the few times I have come in recent years without touching myself or being touched. I slipped my fingers out of his pants as two men passed, completely respecting our privacy. Having never done anything quite like this before, I suddenly felt the need to return to the tranquility of my hotel room. They didn't ask me for anything, but I gave Jordan some pesos, about sixty cents U.S., and half that to Felipe. They were thankful and didn't ask for more. The night didn't end there. They seemed enthralled with me as they came to sit outside my hotel. Jordan did a little dance in the middle of the street to music coming from a nearby restaurant. Again our eyes were locked on each other, seemingly needing one another. I watched him for the longest time, my heart aching. I had to make a concerted effort to give some attention to Felipe. I liked him too, and my mind was swimming. Then Felipe unzipped his fly, pulled out his four-inch hard-on and stroked it. He tried to use a streetlight pole to hide his actions from people in the distance, while giving me a good view of it. They asked if they could come up, so I said I would call reception, and they rushed to the gate of my hotel's lobby. It didn't seem like it could hurt to ask. I dialed and said in Spanish, "I have two friends who would like to visit." "Los ninitos?" (the little boys), she asked with a bit of surprise. "Si, senora." "No es posible," she told me. I thanked her anyway, and returned to the window to inform my friends that it wasn't possible. They understood. Still, it was amazing that the city made me feel so comfortable that I would even think of inviting a nine and a twelve year-old up to my room. We talked through the window a while longer, and Felipe returned to jacking off on the street. Since I was naked, I couldn't help but do the same, though no one could see me. But the boys saw my arm moving. Jordan was a bit more shy, but finally decided to lower his dirty white shorts to give me a view. It was too much. I came as they watched my face. A couple of pedestrians passed, so the boys pulled up their shorts. I could have stayed in the window all night. Finally I decided to throw them a few coins, bid them goodnight, and told them I'd see them tomorrow. I reluctantly closed the curtains. I knew it was the only way any of us would get some rest. After doing some work at an internet cafe the next morning, I went back to the waterfront. Boys again were swimming naked. I saw one in the distance with a familiar blue shirt. He was wearing nothing below that. I could see Jordan's cute little butt sticking out as I walked toward him, his back to me. I then patted him on the shoulder and his face lit up. I lifted his shirt to get a good view of his pecker and he smiled. It was a stupid thing for me to do in most places, but here they swam naked anyway, and Jordan took no offense. I proceeded to the restaurant at the water's edge, already followed by a small group. My table was quickly full. Two chairs were reserved for Jordan and Felipe. We chatted as vendors frequently interrupted. Felipe invited me to come out to the half-submerged yacht to fuck. The boys pounded one fist onto an open palm...their sign language for "let's fuck!" This concerned me as there were people at nearby tables. Other boys volunteered that Felipe and Jordan liked to fuck each other. Jordan protested slightly. Felipe only laughed...a laugh that didn't deny it. Still other boys suggested that any of them would fuck, and the going rate was 5000 pesos (a dollar and a half). But it wasn't Felipe nor Jordan that suggested the sex for money. In my experience, fourteen was about the age that boys knew what they wanted and what they liked... sometimes a few years younger. Here, the legal age of consent is fourteen, and I was perfectly content with that. In addition, the law allows for sexual relations with younger ones provided there is no anal or vaginal intercourse. However, numerous little girls came by with babies on their backs or in their arms. I always asked their age, and they always replied that they were fourteen or fifteen and that the baby was theirs, but I swear that most of them were barely thirteen. Having a little fun or even "adopting" a boy is one thing, but to burden one with the responsibility of a baby is something else. I guessed that it was yet another sign of the liberal attitude toward sex in this city. We played many games of dominoes. I tried to sit out whenever possible to enjoy the sights of the swimmers. Jordan didn't know how to play dominoes, so I helped him a bit, though he caught on quickly. The other boys were very impatient with him, so I had to constantly restrain them to give Jordan an extra second. A muscular fifteen year-old named Diego was the most obnoxious. He also demanded from the boys a commision of the snacks I handed out. At sunset I invited Jordan, Felipe, and the taller Alexandro to accompany me for dinner. I forgot to put the dominoes in my bag. The later consensus was that Diego had stolen them. Four others, including Diego, decided to follow us to eat, trying my patience. The indoor restaurant's waiter told me that my amigos would not be allowed to enter. Perhaps it was the shoeless thing. The waiter asked if I would like food "to go". I said we'd go somewhere else and he suddenly relented. So we ate chicken and potatoes (without salsa, because they don't like spice in this country) while the four others pounded at the window and demanded that my boys save some for them. When we left, the others quickly snatched the leftovers, mostly bones. Inviting several out to dinner on my second night in town was a mistake. It sent a message that if I was rich enough to buy dinner for four, why couldn't I buy dinner for eight...or twenty? I had already promised Jordan and Alexandro a pair of sandals, so the other four followed us to a stand on the street selling footwear. Felipe already had a nice pair of tennis shoes...maybe that said something about his success and his willingness. I bought two-dollar sandals for Jordan and Alex while the other boys begged for the same. Part of my dilemma is that I did want to show some favoritism. Three was plenty. Why would I want to encourage more? I excused myself saying I was going to my hotel for a little bit, and that I'd probably see them in the park later. Nearly ninety degrees at nine p.m. and light rain was falling. I looked out my window and there sat Felipe. I waved to him that I was coming down. Outside, we proceeded toward the waterfront. I was glad that it was raining because it reduced the number of pedestrians strolling the park. A long jetty, under water at high tide, was now high out of the water. I suggested to Felipe that we walk out on the vacant pier of concrete. He readily agreed. Thunder began to boom. We wore only T-shirts, but nobody seemed concerned about a little rain around here. Things dried quickly. The jetty curved to the left to guard the land and shanties built on stilts far inside. It was like we were in the middle of the ocean when we sat down. We talked a little about weather and such. I placed my hand on his thigh. "May I see it?" I asked, moving my hand close to the crotch that he had been so anxious to display outside my hotel's window. Without hesitating, Felipe unbuttoned the fly of his jean shorts. He was hard. I soon had my first-ever black boycock in my hand. It was silky soft, and perfectly hairless as I had expected. More thunder cracked, and bolts of lightning lit up the sky every few minutes. We knew heavy rains were coming. That, in addition to the possibility that someone could begin walking out the jetty at any moment, added a bit of urgency to this unforgettable night. "Could I suck you?" I asked. Felipe nodded enthusiastically. It was low tide, so the water was eight feet below the the top of the concrete wall on which we were sitting. I hopped four feet down to the next ledge. I could have put my head right into his lap where he sat, but someone with an unlikely pair of binoculars might be able to see something during a flash of lightning. I put my hands under his armpits and lifted him down to me. He took off his shirt as I slid his shorts and underwear down to his ankles. He knew how to fuck my face as I played with his asscheeks. My tongue was working like crazy. Then I pulled back for a second to marvel at his penis and cute little balls. His foreskin was tight as I tried to pull it back. Felipe quickly helped me, revealing a dynamically shaped brown head. I devoured it as he resumed his rhythm. I then needed to swallow his smooth balls as I played with his pecker. Momentarily, I asked if I could kiss his ass. Felipe promptly turned around and I kissed both of his black orbs, then began licking them all over. He giggled as I got close to his hole. He bent forward and placed his hands on the wall of the jetty. My tongue slid in as far as I could possibly stretch it, hungrily devouring his sweet ass and adding saliva in case he wanted to go all the way as he had suggested earlier in the day. I inserted one finger slowly into the hot receptive hole. Felipe gave a little yelp then began to moan softly. After fingerfucking him for a minute, tonguing him again, and then adding a second finger, I unfastened my own shorts to free my raging hard-on. With my tongue again buried deep in his ass, I heard him say, "Someone's coming." 'Shit!' I thought, but continued to ream the gorgeous chocolate hole. I figured we would have several minutes before anyone walking out the jetty could see any detail of us. I stood up to look, rubbing my cock in his wet crack. There were two figures coming, but still nearly two hundred meters away. Felipe reached behind himself and grabbed my sizeable cock and aimed it toward his hole. He was ready. I slid it in faster than I normally would and paused a second before starting to fuck him energetically. With one hand I reached around and masturbated him. He soon came. If there was any cum I couldn't feel it due to the rain now coming down harder, but I felt his sphincter contract a dozen times, causing me to spew into him. We were forced to quickly pull up our shorts, as the two intruders were approaching the left turn of the jetty where they would be able to look down our side of the wall. I slipped him a little food money and asked him to put his shirt on. We walked toward the men, exchanged a "buenas noches" greeting, and did our best to hide our smiles. At that point I would have preferred that Felipe walk some distance ahead or in back of me, but I made a very feeble attempt at the request. He was happy walking at my side all the way up the jetty, through the park, and through the city streets right up to my hotel entrance where I had to say goodnight and "hasta manana" to him. Still to cum, the beach adventure, five more crazy days, and...who knows, perhaps a lifetime?