Date: Fri, 11 Oct 2019 01:58:43 -0600 From: Ocelot Subject: Our Perfect Vacation Chapter I Our Perfect Vacation Chapter I Here we go again! This story is a work of fiction and contains sex scenes between consenting adults and consenting young boys. If this kind of thing is illegal, or offends you, or you're forbidden from reading this work for any other reason, go fly a kite. If you wish to continue, feel free to get naked and enjoy! Also, Nifty cannot continue to host such great stories without your generous donations! Give `til it hurts! Also also, I would like to extend my sincere thanks and appreciation to London Holloway for helping to inspire, create, and add to this story. Also also also, this chapter is more of an introduction, so if you're looking for the nice sex parts with boys and men, well, I'm sorry, Mario, but your orgasm is in another chapter. ;) Boy love. That's how we met. Our mutual love of boys. 11 year olds on up. I had written a series of stories of love between a boy and an adult male and posted them online. He had written me one night, and I had responded. It just snowballed from there. We had exchanged over 100 emails in the span of two days. The sender was London Holloway. He was a few years younger than I was, and located two states away. We knew instantly that we had a special bond between us. Boys were something special we had in common. It's not like you can just bring up how much you love a smooth hairless boy crotch in every day conversation. We both loved smooth hairless boy crotches. We also discovered we loved each other. When we met, it was truly magical. I drove to meet him, and got a hotel room. London came over in the morning, and though we had plans to go to breakfast, we didn't go anywhere. We were locked together, naked and grinding our hard cocks against each other. We ordered room service for breakfast, and ate it naked while watching television. It didn't end there. He came over, and stayed at my place. London and I slept naked together every night. We had sex every night and every morning. We couldn't get enough of each other. One morning, as we cuddled naked in bed, we discussed the future. Our future to be precise. We agreed we wanted more. We decided that he would move into my house. It was spacious, and the city would be a welcome change for him. About six months after living together, we knew we were ready for the next step. I bought the ring, and one day, we were on the mountainside. We had hiked up the mountain, and were sitting on a blanket, watching the sunset. This was our favorite spot. We loved to see the sun go down, and the city lights wink on. It was easy enough to get back down, even after dark. I waited. Nature cooperated. The sun was partially hidden by the horizon. Clouds were in the sky, and they blasted red, pink, and orange all through the sky for a perfect sunset. London and I were standing, watching the show. I dug into my pocket and dropped to one knee. London turned and his mouth dropped open a bit. "London," I said, emotion on his face and in my voice. "I love you. Ever since the moment we met. I knew you were the one for me, and you know I'm the one for you. I can't promise we'll travel the world, or be rich. But I promise that I will always love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?" London gasped nodded, truly breathless and unable to vocalize an affirmative response. I slipped the engagement ring on his finger, and I stood up. We kissed with all the passion in our hearts as the sun sank below the horizon. Married life with London was bliss. We'd get up in the morning, and while he got the coffee running, I'd take a shower. He'd get into the shower while I got dressed. We would make breakfast together. When we made waffles, I'd hold him, and we'd dance around our kitchen while they cooked. I'd usually sing "We have all the time in the world" from On Her Majesty's Secret Service. It was our song. Another thing we had in common was our love of movies. Sure, the one James Bond movie with George Lazenby was sort of...bad, but that song was perfect to describe our relationship. When London and I were together, time was different. Hours seemed like seconds. We'd head off to work together, him to the grocery store where he was the Grocery Manager, second in command to the store manager. I headed to the gas station where I was the store director. Our jobs paid quite well, so we were often surprising the other with gifts. Sometimes flowers which look and smell nice. Sometimes, it was something we needed. Each gift made us love and appreciate the other more. "D'Artagnan, I love you." "I love you too, London." Such was when it was time to split up. We always made sure to express our love when we parted ways. I'd drop him off at the store, and then head to the gas station. We had two cars, but usually carpooled to save gas. My job was just a few blocks beyond his. It made sense to us to go to work together. I'd take the car as I was responsible for taking the deposit to the bank, and picking up the money we'd need for the next day or two. It was a small location, and we didn't get an armored car pickup. When we got deliveries of soda or beer, the driver of the truck sometimes had to wait until the parking was empty enough to pull their truck in. When the day was over, I'd get in the car, and go pick him up. It was heaven. He was my strength. I was his. When he needed support, I supported him. When I needed support, he was there for me. We were all we needed. On weekends, we'd work together on taking care of the house. After a day of cutting the grass, and working in the garden, we needed a shower. We always wound up in the shower together. "I love how big this shower is, babe!" London always said this as we stripped for the shower. It was big. Marble with a heated floor so you weren't blasted by cold feet when you got out. The shower itself was big. You could get blasted by up to eight shower heads. About five people could fit in the shower itself. As usual, when we showered together, I turned on three showerheads. We stepped in, and embraced in the hot water, steam beginning to cloud the glass shower walls. "Mmmmm. I love it when you hold me," London said. He snuggled close, and rested his head on my shoulder. He was just a few inches taller than I was, and my shoulder was at the perfect height for him to rest his head on and nuzzle my neck. "I love holding you," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist, and pulling him closer. Our flaccid cocks rubbed against each other, and I could feel his smile as they responded. Soon, we were sporting erect cocks. His 7.5" cock rubbed against my own 6.5 erect dick. I couldn't tell if we had pre on the tips as the water pretty much washed it away instantly. I looked over every inch of his 5'8" frame, running my hands down his perfect frame, lean and firm from years of playing soccer. His dimples showed as he smiled at me. I pressed my lips against his soft lips, our tongues meeting, and sending shivers down our spines. He slid his hands down my water soaked back, cupping and squeezing my bubble butt. My cock pulsed and rubbed against his smooth thighs. I took the washcloth, squeezed some body wash onto it, and began working on his chest, rubbing his nipples while I kissed his neck. I went lower, and washed his abs, his cock bobbed and pulsed as I wrapped my free hand around it. I stroked it and he moaned in pleasure. London parted my ass cheeks and swirled his finger around my hole before slipping his finger in. Later, after we made love, we cuddled in bed together, naked, the sheets down to our waists so our chests were exposed to the cool evening air. He held me, my head on his chest, my blond hair a stark contrast to his tanned skin. He didn't know his heritage, but during winter his skin was a light brown, and he got tan in summer and didn't need sunscreen. He took my hand, and laced his fingers with mine; his tan fingers squeezed my white ones. "D'Artagnan, I love you." "I love you, London. You're the best that's ever happened to me. I'm so grateful you wrote that message to me." "I'm grateful you wrote back." London kissed my fingers as he looked into my eyes. "Our relationship is perfect," he said. "Only one thing could make it even more so." I could see the twinkle in his eye. The same twinkle that shone in his eye when we were asked "how'd you meet?" It meant impish excitement and our shared secret. While our mutual love of boys was how we met, we always said we met at a store. Looking at him, I knew what he meant. We were both boy lovers, but never had we actually made love to a boy. "Having a boy of our own to make love to?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. "Yeah. It's been a fantasy of ours since before we met. Our anniversary is coming up next month, so finally sharing a boy with you would be an absolutely perfect gift." We kept talking late into the night. My mind wasn't as engaged as it normally was. London didn't notice. He was too tired. I kept turning over his request in my mind. Sex with boys. How could I make that happen? How could I make sure it happens and we wouldn't get caught? Sure, there were probably illegal brothels somewhere in the country, but that was it. They were illegal. No doubt that when we finally took a chance and went to one, it would be raided by the cops. That wouldn't be a future we wanted or needed. Brothels that had boys you could have probably were illegal in other countries, but perhaps I could find one in a country that wasn't so...keen on enforcing all the laws. When our anniversary came around, I had it all planned. Five years married. We had a dinner party, and our guests lauded our relationship, and commitment to each other. Later that evening, in front of a crackling fire, we exchanged our own personal gifts. "This...is pretty thin, D'Artagnan. You got me paperwork for our anniversary?" He waved the manila file folder I had given him. "You'll like it, I'm sure. Open it!" I said this and gave an encouraging smile. "Let's see...a car rental contract? A...hotel reservation? In San Francisco. Tickets to Alcatraz. Tickets to watch the Oakland A's play baseball? You're giving me a vacation with you?" "Yeah," I said and kissed him. "This...makes my gift seem pretty stupid in comparision." He handed me a wrapped box. "Babe, it's from you. It'll be absolutely wonderful and perfect." I unwrapped it, and studied the writing on the box. "It's a code scrambler for the garage door. Remember? We were watching Gone in 60 Seconds and you said you'd prefer to have a code scrambler for the garage so nobody could get in and take our cars?" "I remember. And you remembered! Babe! This is wonderful! I love you!" I kissed him, this time with more passion. "I love you too," he said, his words coming out odd between our lips that were pressed together. Finally, our vacation came along. We had our suitcases packed, and used Uber to get to the rental depot. Since the car was in my name, London stayed outside with our luggage as I signed for the car. I was told they'd bring it around in a moment, and went back outside. "They took in a nice looking maroon car," London said as I put on my sunglasses. It was a bright sunrise. We were leaving early for maximum driving time. "Maroon's a nice color," I agreed. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a maroon car came to a stop in front of us. The employee shut off the engine and got out with some papers. We did the walk around, and determined that there was no preexisting damage. I took the remote from him, and opened the trunk. We put our luggage inside, and got into the car. I adjusted the seat, the rearview mirror and looked at the keychain I was given. "What's up?" London asked after a moment. "There's no key," I said puzzled. I first had thought it was one of those push button things that flicked a key into existence like a switchblade, but there was no button. The dashboard lit up. I was informed to press the brake, and push the start button. This was new. Both our cars had regular keys. I had never driven a push start car before. "Start button...start button" I murmured as I searched. Soon, the engine roared to life. "2019 Dodge Charger with a Hemi...Scatpack...V8 engine..." London was reading the owner's manual he'd found in the glove compartment. "Hemi? Scatpack?" Neither he nor I were car guys so I'd heard those words, but didn't know what they meant. Shrugging, I shifted into Drive, and eased my foot off the brake and idled through most of the turn out of the lot, and onto the road before pressing the gas. The engine roared and we were pressed back into our seats from the acceleration. "Holy shit!" London exclaimed! "This thing really cooks!" "We didn't get even get to 25!" I gasped. It was true. We had shot up to about 23, and that was in the blink of an eye. Adrenaline pounding, smiling at my husband, I hit the gas again. The engine roared, and we shot off down the street towards the on ramp of the interstate, lucky there was little traffic on the street as I got used to handling such a powerful machine. "0-60 in three seconds, Bluetooth, and it has USB ports!" London said as he kept reading. "This is by far the fastest and more powerful vehicle I've ever driven. It's awesome! Get the Bluetooth set up, and let's get some tunes going!" In moments, London had paired his phone with the car. Shinedown's "Devil" blasted through the speakers. As we roared down the interstate in our Charger, we sang along. I'm pickin', I'm pickin', I'm pickin' I pick up the phone You said it yourself you're scared of being alone You said it yourself that you can crack the code But the static you hear automatically keeps you exposed on your own I hope you're ready, steady, smashing through the levy The drama, the trauma, don't play the prima donna My god, you said it yourself that you would never stop Until you felt the needle drop Now you pack your bags The party's such a drag And everyone can tell that you're poisoning the well But there are no mistakes Except what you create You need to know your place 'Cause it's about to get heavy (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) It's about to be on (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) Yeah, I'm bangin' slingin' napalm (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) So... 'Cause it's about to get heavy (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) It's about to be on (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) Yeah, I'm bangin' slingin' napalm (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) So nobody move 'Cause I was sent to warn you The devil's in the next room The silence, the silence The blinding ultra violence Knockin' at your door Pacin' back and forth What now? (What now) The whispers and the screams The stereotypical profiling ritual Vicious and obscene So now you pack your bags The party's such a drag And everyone can tell that you're poisoning the well But there are no mistakes Except what you create You need to know your place 'Cause it's about to get heavy (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) It's about to be on (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) Yeah, I'm bangin' slingin' napalm (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) So nobody move 'Cause I was sent to warn you The devil's in the next room 'Cause it's about to get heavy (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) It's about to be on (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) Yeah, I'm bangin' slingin' napalm (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) So nobody move 'Cause I was sent to warn you The devil's in the next room Yeah the devil's in the next room (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) Yeah the devil's in the next room (heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy) So nobody move 'Cause I was sent to warn you The devil's right beside you (No copyright infringement intended) London and I were soaring high on good music and the prospect of an exciting vacation. Lucky for him, he didn't know how exciting it would be. Neither did I for that matter. He thought we'd have two weeks in California. I knew better. I had done my research. We would go to California, and have a good time, but we would also fulfil our dream. Okay, so Chapter I is done. I hope you enjoyed it. I know I enjoyed creating it with London. More will come. Sex with boys will come. And the characters will cum. You're always welcome to message me fullmetalocelot12@gmail.com