Date: Mon, 6 Mar 2006 10:16:47 EST
From: INSILVA92@aol.com
Subject: Pablo's Story part ten

This is a homosexual fantasy and as such will contain unprotected sex, which,
in this day and age is unwise to say the least; but it is a fantasy. If it is
illegal for you to read such material, for any reason, please leave now.
I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has emailed me regarding this
and my other _www.nifty.org_ (http://www.nifty.org/)  stories, (go to
Prolific Authors and look under INSILVA). Feedback from readers is heart-warming, and
encourages me to write more, thanks.
Jomo carried me to the back of the room and opened a door that led into a
large shower area on the right, a couple of hand basins and a toilet on the left.
He switched the shower on and lowered me to the floor with my back to him,
and then he put his arms around my chest to support me as the warm water
cascaded over our bodies. Jomo's flaccid cock was resting along my spine just above
my arse cheeks. I slowly came around as the warm water worked its magic.
"Can you stand on your own yet." Jomo asked.
"I think so." I replied.
Jomo released me from his clasp, and because my legs were still a little
shaky I reached out and rested my palms on the shower wall for support. Jomo
started to lather my aching shoulders and arms and then massage them. I almost
purred with pleasure as his long bony fingers massaged the ache away. After
several minutes he crouched down and washed and massaged my legs until their ache
was gone too. He turned me around and pushed my ample foreskin back and washed
my knob. As soon as my cock began to stiffen from his ministrations Jomo stood
back up.
"We haven't got time for any more sex boy, so you'd better finish off
washing yourself while I complete my own shower."
Disappointed I finished off my shower as I watched Jomo wash his lithe,
black, hairless body, the cascading water making him look even blacker.
"Feeling better?" he asked solicitously when we'd finished.
"Much better thanks Jomo."
"Good, we'll dry off and go and get you dressed ready for your sister."
We left the shower running and went and stood by the door, I was walking a
little gingerly because of the butt-plug. Jomo handed me a towel and we dried
off, I noticed that both our cocks were now slightly engorged. Jomo was just
dressing in a white shirt and black trousers that were hanging from a clothes
rail along with several other pairs, when Marcel came in and got under the
shower. His long soft cock was lying down his muscular thigh; his pink shiny knob
still looked enormous.
"Jomo, I've put a new pair of Speedos on the table for Paul to put on, and
then you can take him into the sewing room and start dressing him. I won't be
long, we've got about 35 minutes before his sister's due."
"Right," Jomo answered, "that should be time enough."
We went back into the "playroom" and Jomo handed me a pair of bright yellow
Speedos as opposed to the old pair which had been white. Instead of putting
them on, and before Jomo could say anything, I walked carefully into the sewing
room, ever mindful of the butt-plug up my tender boy-hole. I was determined to
show off my body to the other men one last time; I didn't know when I'd have
another chance to exhibit myself. They all looked up as I carefully climbed
onto the stool and slowly pirouetted with my hands outstretched. My cock was
half-hard and hardening, I loved showing off my sexy, boyish body to other
males. Jomo came in and slapped me across one arse cheek, which jolted the
butt-plug, which in turn sent a thrill through my young body and through my cock,
which was getting harder by the minute.
"Much as the guys love to see you show off we just don't have the time boy,
now put the Speedos on!"
Jomo sounded a bit pissed off so I turned my back to the men and bent over
showing them that I'd got a butt-plug up my boy-hole, there were several
whistles and a few sighs. I pulled the Speedos on and turned around, then I put my
hand inside and arranged my stiffening cock up and to the left; its outline was
clearly defined in the Speedos. Jomo began to dress me and by the time Marcel
joined us all that was left to put on were the jacket and shoes. The shoes
were the same style as my own, but were new and fitted me. Jomo explained that
Mr. Cohen had sent out for them while we were still "playing"; the cost would
be added to my Mother's bill. As Jomo led me out I turned and said goodbye to a
chorus of goodbyes and whistles.
As we walked downstairs I swear I could feel the cum washing around inside
me, and the jolting of the butt-plug was keeping my cock three quarters hard. We
walked over towards the sitting area where a be-suited Mr. Cohen was sat
waiting for me next to a table on which were a coffee pot and several cups and
saucers. There was a beautiful black boy stood by the table, about my age, 5 foot
8 tall, and dressed in a flowing white cotton kaftan, so, sadly, I couldn't
tell what his body was like. As we approached the table Mr. Cohen stood up and
smiled at me.
"Ah, Master Paul I see you're ready, the suit looks perfect, but you must
get that mop of hair cut. Do the shoes fit? Would you like a cup of coffee, your
sister's not due for a few minutes? You must be tired after your, ahem," he
coughed and emphasised the word "fitting."
I realised with the "Master Paul" it was back to business, I was a customer
again, not a young fuck toy to be ordered about.
"Yes Mr. Cohen, the shoes fit, and I'd love a cup of coffee, thank you."
"Sit down then and Didier will pour you a cup, cream and sugar?"
I nodded and turned to look at Didier who smiled at me as he poured, showing
a set of even white teeth. Mr. Cohen noticed my appraisal of the boy, and with
a knowing look he spoke.
"Didier is a distant cousin of a dear friend of mine who lives in Cairo.
Didier came over to learn tailoring a couple of years ago when he was just 14. He
has a room in my house; he's a good boy and a very willing worker both here
and at home!"
Just then my stomach gave a long, loud rumble, causing me to blush, Didier to
giggle behind his hand, and Mr. Cohen and Jomo to ask in unison.
"Are you all right Master Paul?"
"I'm fine thank you; I'm just starving after all that er, um, activity."
"Do you like empanadas? (Like tacos)" Mr. Cohen asked.
"Oh yes," I enthused, "I love all the native food."
"That's good then, next door is a café and they make wonderful empanadas."
Mr. Cohen turned to Didier. "Go next door Didier and get a selection, tell Jose
to put it on my bill."
Mr. Cohen turned back towards me and smiled, when he spoke he dropped his
voice and put his hand on my knee and squeezed.
"Of course Master Paul what went on upstairs is strictly entre nous?" I
nodded. "You obviously enjoy that sort of thing so I've written down the names
and telephone numbers of some friends of mine who live in and around B*****.
They also like to play around with amenable young boys, so if you like you can
ring them up to arrange a meeting. And myself and some of my workers will
definitely come to see you if you'd like that?"
He gave my knee another squeeze, and then sat back. I gave him a big smile.
"That sounds wonderful Mr. Cohen, I'd really like that. I was feeling a bit
sad thinking that having just go to know you all I wouldn't be seeing you
again."
Didier returned just then and placed a plate of empanadas on the table.
"Help yourself Master Paul, Jomo, Didier and I will go and pack your shirts,
socks and accessories while you eat, your sister is due any minute. You can
have as many as you like; I know young boys just burn the calories off."
As they walked away I started on my first empanada, Mr. Cohen was right, they
were delicious. I was just finishing my fifth when my sister came in. Mr.
Cohen rushed across to greet her. Rose apologised for being late, there was a
rally going on for next Monday's Mayoral Elections and the traffic had been
terrible. She was pleased I was having some food as she'd decided we'd better skip
lunch and go straight home before the traffic got even worse. Rose admired my
suit and agreed that my hair needed cutting, she'd tell Mother when we got
home. Jomo and Didier loaded the car with my stuff as we said our goodbyes to
Mr. Cohen. I said goodbye to Jomo and Didier and Mr Cohen helped Rose into the
car as Jomo helped me in on the other side; squeezing my hard, plump right
buttock as he did so. That sent a thrill straight to my tumescent cock. I sat down
carefully and off we went. Rose had a dopey smile on her face and after
asking if everything had gone all right she spent the rest of the journey home
gazing idly out of the window.
When we pulled into the drive Mother was just being dropped off, she waited
on the steps for Rose and me to join her. Looking me up and down she gave a
perfunctory nod of approval and told me that she'd arranged for my hair to be cut
in B*****, because there was apparently an official barber to the school.
Then she told me to go and change so that I didn't mess up the suit, and to amuse
myself until dinnertime.
That suited me fine, I'd been thinking about my time in the "playroom" on
the way home and I'd got another hard-on to deal with. I walked carefully up the
stairs and was just unlocking my door when a maid arrived with all the other
stuff, letting her in I told her to put them on a table and I'd sort them out
later.
When she'd gone I locked the door and stripped off down to my Speedos,
carefully hanging up my suit. I picked up a large water glass and padded into the
bathroom. Placing a towel in the bath I put the glass on it, and then I removed
my Speedos exposing my stiff, cum leaking thick little cock. Carefully I
climbed into the bath and kneeled down and back so that my bum was over the glass.
I started to wank myself off, the copious precum and my long, loose foreskin
making it so easy. I thought of everything that had happened to me at Mr. Cohen'
s and I was soon close to cumming, so I slowed my wanking down. I changed
hands and reached behind with my right hand locating the base of the butt-plug.
Grasping it tightly I pulled steadily on it, groaning loudly in pleasure as it
broke through my tightened sphincter. It came out of my boy-hole with a loud
plop, and I bought it to my mouth and started to lick it clean of the mixture
of three men's cum and my internal juices, I loved the pungent taste. While I
was cleaning the butt-plug I could feel the gooey mixture trickling from my
well-fucked hole, hopefully into the glass.
When the butt-plug was clean I put it down and looked between my legs,
success, the mixture was slowly dripping into the glass. I stopped wanking and
pushed a finger of each hand into my boy-hole and tried to prise it further open. I
had to use another finger of each hand to get my boy-hole open enough to
increase the flow. I strained a couple of times, which pushed more of the goo out
of my boy-chute and into the glass, but finally the flow stopped. My cock was
twitching and my balls were aching so I moved back over the glass and began to
wank in earnest. My left hand's two fingers were still in my boy-hole; I
pulled them out and smelled them, a musky earthy aroma which turned me on even
more. I sucked on them as I continued wanking, my balls tightened, I aimed my
cock into the glass and groaned as five jets of hot boycum splattered into the
glass and mixed with the goo already in there. I squeezed my shaft to get all my
cum out then I stirred the goo with my finger. After licking my right hand
clean I lifted the glass to my lips and steadily drank it down, it was
delicious. I'm a real cum-pig now! I thought.
I eased the butt-plug back up my boy-hole, deciding to have an enema after my
toilet later, and then I had a long hot shower. When I was dry I lay on the
bed and drifted off to sleep. I was awoken by Rose shouting up the stairs that
dinner was ready, so I swilled my face and hurriedly dressed. I was ravenous
again and even my Mother commented on how much food I'd put away!
End of part ten. If you have any constructive criticism, or anything you wish
to share with me, contact me at _INSILVA92@aol.com_
(mailto:INSILVA92@aol.com)  Love Paul.
Copyright 2006