Date: Tue, 06 May 2003 22:23:44 -0400
From: John Paul <john_paul@comcast.net>
Subject: The Alphabet Lovers: Victor

One of the many perks of my promotion is that it allowed me more time to do
things that I had neglected over the years like unpacking the boxes in my
condo, hanging out with old high school and college buddies, and spending
time with my parents.  I love my parents very much and it always bothered me
that I only got to see them a couple weeks out of the year, so I decided to
spend my first vacation with them in L.A.

It was the first day of my visit and my mom already had me on dish duty - it
was as if nothing had changed in the 14 years I'd been gone.  They had two
maids and a dishwasher and I was still relegated to washing dishes because
my mother didn't believe in letting a "stranger" in her kitchen nor did she
believe that a machine could give a thorough washing.  I didn't mind.  It
was just the three of us and I actually found the chore rather relaxing.

I was scraping the eggs and syrup off our plates, and admiring my parents'
back lawn through the kitchen window, when I saw a strange man walking
across the grass.  I say strange not only because I'd never seen him before,
but also because was zigzagging around the yard, staring at the ground, and
mumbling quietly to himself.

"Dad, please tell me you know who that guy is walking across your yard."

My dad peeped out the window to see whom I was talking about.  "Oh, that's
our new groundskeeper, Victor."

"What happened to Jimmy?" I asked of their previous groundskeeper.

"Jimmy retired last month.  He said he was getting too old for that kind of
work and, frankly, I had to agree with him.

"Too old?  He's only 51 or 52, right?"

"He just turned 60, John Paul."

I did the math in my head to verify my father's claim.  "Okay, but that's
still fairly young and Jimmy was in excellent shape."

My father simply shook his head in disbelief.  I knew I was being silly, but
Jimmy had been a part of our life since we moved to California; I couldn't
imagine not seeing him around.

"I really liked Jimmy," I grumbled.

My father gave me a sly grin and patted me on my shoulder.  "I know you
did."

I blushed and returned to washing the dishes.  Obviously my secret crush on
Jimmy wasn't such a secret.  Come to think of it, it would have been hard
for my parents not to know; my crush was more like an obsession.  When I was
younger, I thought of Jimmy as a big brother, but as I got older and my
hormones started flaring up and I became aware of my sexuality, he became
much more.  He was the star of all my adolescent wet dreams.  I can remember
rushing home from school just so I could gaze at him through my bedroom
window while he worked on the back yard.  Jimmy was old school and, out of
respect for my mother, he never walked around in anything to revealing, no
matter how hot it got.  If I was lucky, though, he'd strip down to his
A-shirt and I could get a nice view of his thick, bulging biceps and
shoulders.  His skin reminded me of melted chocolate the way it glistened
with sweat in the bright California sun.  Visions of the thin white material
clinging to his sweaty black body filled my head as I masturbated at night.
The imagery was usually enough to get two hefty loads out of my teenage cock
- at 16, it didn't take much.

I wished I'd had a chance to see him one last time.  I imagined at 60, he
was still sexy enough to make me cum twice in a row.

"You're going to rub a hole right through that plate, son," my dad
commented.

"Huh?  Oh... sorry, my mind was somewhere else," I said.

"Mm... well why don't you let me take over the dishes?  A few laps around
the pool might help you clear your head."

"You sure?  What if mom finds out that you're doing my chores?" I joked.

He chuckled and grabbed the dishcloth from my hands.  "I can handle your
mother, now get!"

I hugged and kissed my dad then ran upstairs to change.  I picked out a pair
of trunks from the drawer full of swimwear that I kept at my parents' house
- a modest pair of lime-green board shorts - then ran back downstairs and
out onto the terrace.

I ran into the new groundskeeper on my way out to the pool.  He'd stopped
mumbling but was still walking around and looking down at the ground.  I
watched him walk a few paces, stop, pat the ground with his foot, then move
on to another patch of land.  He was a fairly young man - around my age or a
little older - of South American decent I conjectured by his smooth,
honey-colored complexion, and thick, black hair.  He wore his curly tresses
long enough that he had to constantly sweep them out of his eyes, but too
short to pull back into a more manageable ponytail.  He was good-looking as
most of us Latin men are, and was neatly dressed in his yellow/tan work
boots, loose-fitting jeans, and plain, dark green t-shirt.  Since I'd been
staring at him for the better part of five minutes, I figured I should at
least introduce myself.

"Hi, you must be Victor," I said.  He looked up at me and smiled.  I held my
hand out to him.  He wiped his hand on his jeans then joined me in a firm
handshake.  "My name is John Paul.  I'm..."

"I know who you are," he said with a thick accent.  "You can't turn around
without running into a picture of you... and your mother talks about you all
the time."

I blushed furiously.  "I'm sorry.  She gets carried away sometimes."

"I don't mind.  She's very proud of you... she should be.  She showed me
some of your work... you're very good."

"Thanks."  Victor smiled and nodded.  "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he said.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm trying to see how resilient the grass is.  It's pretty strong, but
it'll need some boosting before the party."

"Oh yeah... the big party."

"You don't sound very thrilled about it."

I shrugged.  "It's usually just a bunch of people my dad used to work with
reminiscing about the Glory Days of Hollywood.  The stories get old after a
while."

"Wow!  That sounds like fun to me."

"Then why don't you go?" I suggested.  It would be nice to have someone my
age to talk to.

"I couldn't..." he answered.  "Besides I don't have any dressy clothes."

"You don't have to dress up but, if it would make you feel better, you can
wear something of mine."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"No.  I think it'd be fun to have you there."

"Gee... thanks!"  He was beaming from ear to ear.

"No problem.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get a few laps in before I
take my mother to the store."

"Sure.  It was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy your swim," he said then turned
his attention back to my parents' frail turf.

"Thanks.  It was nice meeting you too."

I continued down the cobblestone path to the pool and jumped in the cool,
blue water for a relaxing thirty-minute swim.  By the time I'd finished,
Victor had moved on and was examining the section of lawn down by the
grilling pits.  I chuckled, wrapped a towel around my waist and walked into
the house.

A few days passed by and Victor was busy strengthening the grass for the big
day.  We'd chat each morning just before I took my swim.  He'd comment on
the different pair of trunks I wore each day; I'd comment on how good the
lawn looked; then we'd engage in a little light conversation.  He was, in
fact, from South America - Colombia to be exact.  He moved to the States
with his parents when he was 15.  We had a lot in common and I really
enjoyed his company.

The day of the party rolled around and, as promised, I let Victor borrow an
outfit for the event.  I took him to my room and let him pick through some
of the clothes I'd brought with me.  After some careful consideration, he
picked out a tan linen suit and a baby blue sweater T.  We even wore the
same shoe size, so I let him borrow a pair of those too.  I didn't get to
see him in the outfit until later that evening at the party.  All eyes were
on him - especially mine - as he strolled down the grassy hill towards the
grills.  He looked better in my outfit than I did.  The pale colors
accentuated his flawless tan skin.

Being with him was an eye-opening experience.  His jaw dropped whenever he
saw another old Hollywood legend walk by.  It made me realize how jaded I
had become.  I saw my dad's friends in a new light and listened to their
stories with a newfound sense of wonder and amazement.  Victor stuck close
to me throughout the evening.  Never more than a few inches away, I grew
accustomed to feeling his warm presence.  Not thinking, I even reached out
once and held his hand.  I expected him to snatch it away immediately.
Instead, he gave it a firm squeeze then let go.

I was falling for him - big time!  It broke my heart when he said he had to
leave early.  He had to get up early the next morning to work on the
flowerbeds or something.  I begged him to stay a little longer, telling him
that the flowerbeds could wait, but he refused.

"I know my way out," he said as I followed him away from the party.  "Thanks
for a wonderful evening."

He left me confused and dejected.  I thought there was something developing
between us, but obviously I was wrong.  I sulked through the rest of the
party, bored and lonely without my newfound companion by my side.

The next morning, I finished my chores and went out for my morning swim.
Victor had finished planting and mulching the flowerbeds and was now
trimming the hedges.  He'd been busy and, I have to admit, the shrubs never
looked so good.  As much as I loved Jimmy and thought he could do no wrong,
he didn't know jack about trimming shrubbery.  For the longest time I
thought our bushes were supposed to look like formless green blobs.  My
parents told their friends it was the latest in topiary.  With Victor's
work, they wouldn't be lying; in one morning he had reversed decades of
clipper mishaps and transformed our greenery into well-sculpted works of
art.

"Good morning!" he called out then walked over to where I was standing.

"Good morning.  Great job on the hedges!"

"You think?  I can do better, but they were in pretty bad shape."

"Yeah, I know; that's what makes it so impressive."

"Hey, I had a great time last night," he said.  I was glad he brought it up;
I wasn't going to mention it if he didn't.

"I had a good time too.  I haven't had that much fun at one of dad's parties
in a long time.  It was great hanging out with you."

"I know.  We should hang out more often."

"I'd like that."

We shared a few nervous smiles over the awkward silence before Victor
quickly switched topics.  "Heading out for your morning swim, I see."

"Yeah, old habits die hard.  I used to swim twice a day when I lived here."

"That explains the killer physique."

"I'm glad someone notices it."

"It's kind of hard not to," he replied.  His eyes quickly skimmed over my
body and I'm sure I saw them linger around the front of my powder blue swim
trunks.  They were a little shorter and tighter than the ones I'd worn
before and had a tendency to over-accentuate my legs and crotch.

I stared into his coffee-colored eyes and tried to get a fix on the vibes I
was getting.  I got nothing in return but a warm gaze and a friendly smile.
Perhaps I was just imagining it, like I imagined what I felt between us the
night before.

"I think your date is waiting," he said.

"Huh?"

"You know... your standing date with the pool."

"Oh right... the pool... yeah; I can't wait to jump in."

"Enjoy."

"Thanks.  I'll see ya around."

Victor waved and went back to trimming the bushes.  I scampered off to take
my swim.  Halfway through my swim, I got the feeling that I was being
watched.  I drifted to the edge of the pool and looked around.  There was no
one there except Victor, who was standing a few yards away, completely
engrossed in clipping my mother's beloved camellia.

"My senses must need calibrating," I muttered.

I shrugged it off and continued swimming, but I still couldn't shake the
feeling that someone was watching me.  It was a creepy feeling to say the
least.  I decided to call it quits and jumped out of the pool.

"Short session today?" Victor asked.

"Yeah... I suddenly don't feel like swimming anymore."

"Oh, too bad.  I'll see you tomorrow morning then."

"Yeah... see ya, Victor."

The next morning saw me going about the same routine.  I ate breakfast with
the parental units, washed the dishes, took Mimi for a walk, and then ran
upstairs to pick out an outfit for my morning swim.  It was hot outside -
perfect for a nice long swim.  I rummaged through the dozen or so shorts and
decided on a pair of old, red trunks that I wore in my days as a lifeguard.
I stripped out of my ordinary clothes and slipped into the trunks.  They
were a little snug, but they fit.  It was gratifying to know that I still
had the body of a 16-year-old.

As I twirled around in front of the mirror, vainly admiring just how good I
looked in my old trunks, I noticed some movement outside on the yard.  "Oh,
it's just Victor," I said to myself.  It was his day to cut the grass and
he'd just started on the back yard when I came back from Mimi's walk.  He'd
turned off the riding mower and was now taking a break.

I walked over to my window and watched him gulp down half a jug of water
then wipe his lips on the back of his arm.  Looking at him through my window
with my old lifeguard trunks on reminded me of all the times I spent spying
on Jimmy.  Victor was no Jimmy, but he was a hottie in his own right.
Whereas our former gardener made it a point of covering himself up as much
as possible, the new guy had no such hang-ups.  Choosing comfort over
decorum, Victor had on the skimpiest outfit he could legally wear: a tight
wife-beater and pair of tiny, nylon running shorts, which were both dripping
wet and clung to his sweaty body.  It was the first time I'd seen him in
such a state of undress and I liked what I saw.  The weatherman said it was
supposed to be a scorcher but I had a feeling it was going to get even
hotter.

I continued to watch him for a little while as he polished off the gallon of
water then walked the empty container over to the trashcan.  His skimpy
little outfit revealed a lot of skin, much to my delight.  Keeping with my
candy analogy, Victor's skin looked like hot toffee - all sweet and sticky.
He sauntered back to the mower and, before mounting it, peeled off his shirt
and tossed it on the seat.  He stretched - giving me an unobstructed view of
his smooth chest and stomach, including the pair of tiny tattoos etched
dangerously close to his pubes.  My dick stirred inside my trunks.  I
reached down to let him know I heard his call for attention.  "Calm down,
boy... he doesn't want to play with you," I pleaded.  Obediently, he
complied.

Victor started up the mower again and began the overwhelming task of taming
10 acres of turf.  I made a mad dash for the pool, trying to avoid any
lengthy encounters with the nearly naked gardener that would lead to
another, more embarrassing, flare-up of my libido.  Tossing the towel on a
lounge chair, I quickly jumped into the pool and started my laps.  30
minutes, 30 laps, and 1500 meters later, I finally resurfaced, feeling
exhausted but refreshed, and definitely a lot less horny.

"That's some workout."  Victor was standing at the edge of pool by the steps
with my towel in his hand.  "Makes me tired just watching it."

I swam over to the side of the pool and climbed out.  He handed me the towel
and smiled.

"You were watching me?" I asked.

"Yeah.  I saw you walk down here, so I thought I'd come down and say hello
before you started swimming.  By the time I got down here you were already
in the pool.  I figured I'd stay and watch you swim until you were finished.
I watched you a little bit yesterday, too.  You're so graceful underwater...
it's sort of mesmerizing to watch."

I was stricken with the sudden inability to speak.  I stopped drying off and
clutched the damp towel to my chest.

"What's the matter?" he asked, responding to the look of concern that worked
its way across my brow.  "Did I say something wrong?"

"No.  It's just creepy to think you were watching me swim... like you're
stalking me or something."

"As creepy as watching someone from your bedroom window?"

I drew in a sharp breath.  "You saw me?"

"Yeah," he said then started blushing.  "I saw everything."

I couldn't believe he had watched me undress.  I wanted to be offended by
his invasion of my privacy, but how could I be when I was guilty of the same
transgression?  At least Victor had the balls to be honest about his peeping
habits.

"I don't see what the big deal is," he continued.  "It's obvious that we
have feelings for each other and we've been too chicken to do anything about
it.  So we resorted to hiding behind curtains and bushes and secretly
lusting from afar.  Now our secrets are out.  We don't have to hide from it
anymore."

Victor yanked the towel out of my hands and pulled my body close to his.
His hot, sticky chest rubbed against mine and I felt my cock reawaken.  He
was hard too as evidenced by the tent in his nylon shorts.  He put his hand
on my ass and squeezed, forcing my hip forward and crushing our throbbing
erections together.  Like magnets, our lips made contact.  Victor was the
first hot-blooded Latino I'd ever kissed and he kissed me like no man had
ever done before.  It was forceful and passionate.  He consumed me with his
mouth.  "Is this how I kiss?" I wondered.  I was on fire!  I never wanted to
fuck someone so bad in all my life.  It was hard for me to pull away, but I
had to.

"Why did you stop?" he asked.  He eyes searched mine for an answer while his
hands searched the rest of my body for whatever it could find.

"I can't do this.  Not here... not now."

"Then where, when?" he asked.  "I must have you," he insisted.  His eyes
were pleading - I wanted to give in, but I couldn't.  I couldn't disrespect
my parents by fucking their gardener in their back yard.

"I-I don't know," I said, suddenly finding the will to pull away from his
warm, inviting embrace.  "I have to go."

I left Victor standing by the side of the pool, holding the towel, and
probably wondering what the hell just happened.  I wanted to explain to him,
but the longer I stayed in his presence, the harder it would be to resist
his powerful spell.

I didn't sleep well that night.  Thoughts of Victor kept invading my dreams.
I jerked off a couple of times like I had done so many times before in that
bed, in that room, in my parents' house.  It felt silly and juvenile, but it
was the only way I could get relief.  Midnight rolled around then 1:00 and
2:00.  I finally gave up on the idea of sleeping and decided to take a
late-night swim.  If it didn't clear my thoughts at least it would tire me
to the point where I'd fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion.


I grabbed a pair of trunks from the drawer and slid them on.  I crept
downstairs and out the patio door.  The sensors picked up my movement as I
approached the pool and the underwater lights flickered to life, making the
water glow an eerie shade of cobalt blue.  It was chilly outside but the
water was a comfortable 75 degrees thanks to the heaters my dad had
installed.  I dunked my head under and tried to lose myself in the water's
tepid embrace.

I don't know how long I swam exactly; I just kept going until my arms, legs,
and lungs screamed for reprieve.  I coasted to the edge and held on - I was
too tired to get out.

"It's a little late for a swim, isn't it?"

"Jesus, Victor!!  You scared the shit out of me!  What are you doing here?"

"I saw the lights from my room and I came to see what was going on.  I
figured it was a stray cat or something, but I was hoping it was you."

"Your room?"

"Yeah.  I'm renting out the pool house.  Didn't your parents tell you?"

"No, they must have forgotten."

Victor slipped into the pool with his boxers on.  He swam over to me but I
pushed away and floated to the middle of the pool.

"Why are you running away from me?"

"I told you, not here."

"Why not?  If you're worried about your parents catching us, I think they're
safely tucked into bed."

"That's not the point.  I can't have sex in their house... it's just not
right."

"We're not in their house," he quipped.

"You know what I mean," I snapped.

He swam over to me again; this time, I was too tired to flee.  "Fine.  Then
what about my house?" he asked.

I felt his hairy legs brush against mine and a tingle ran up my spine.  He
looked so beautiful in the glow of the diffused pool lights.  I still
remembered the feel of his lips pressed against mine and his tongue invading
the depths of my mouth.  I wanted to experience that sensation again along
with a thousand others.  He swam over to side of the pool, climbed out and
walked to the pool house.  I followed closely behind.

"Promise me you won't run away from me this time," he implored.

I leaned forward and offered my mouth to his.  That was the answer he was
looking for.  He kissed me like he had done earlier that afternoon.  All the
hunger and all the passion was still there.  His fingers slipped inside my
swim trunks and peeled the wet fabric away from my body.  The shorts fell in
a pile at my feet and I was naked.  His lips separated from mine with a lewd
slurp.  I didn't want him to stop kissing me, but I felt his lips and tongue
blaze a path down my neck and chest and knew that there were better things
in store for me.  He paused for a moment to lick the pool of water from my
navel before continuing his course towards my aching cock.

My weary legs threatened to give way beneath me when he wrapped his hot lips
around the head of my cock.  He sucked hard on the bloated tip, coaxing out
the first drops of syrup from my dick.  I moaned and stumbled forward,
driving more of my cock into his beautiful mouth.  Victor swallowed it down
without protest and opened up for more.  I pressed forward, pushing through
the restrictive entrance to his throat, until I felt my nuts resting on his
lips.  I don't think he'd ever taken a guy down his throat before - he
choked and gagged a little at first, but soon settled into the sensation of
having his gullet filled with my Brazilian meat.

I slid in and out of his mouth a few times, feeling his rough tongue
scraping against the underside of my cock, then pulled out to let him catch
his breath.

"How's it taste?" I asked.

He sucked my pole back down his throat and sucked on it some more.  I guess
that meant he liked it.  He bobbed up and down on my protracted prick,
sliding his lips and tongue along every sensitive inch.  He sucked my dick
so hard it felt like a vacuum pump.  I'd never seen the veins on my dick pop
up like that before.  The sexy Colombian was sucking me so good that he had
the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

I grabbed a fistful of his wet, curly hair and started feeding him my cock.
He leaned back like a good cocksucker and let me fuck his throat.  He looked
up at me with his dazzling black eyes.  If his mouth hadn't been full of
dick, I'm sure he would have been smiling at me.  How sexy is that?  I was
so turned on!

"Is this what you wanted?" I asked.  "You wanted me to force feed you my
cock?  Huh?"  He moaned his assent as I continued to shove my dick down his
craw.  "How would you like this dick up your ass?  Would you like that?"  He
moaned again, but I wanted to hear him say it, so I pulled my dick out of
his mouth and asked him again.

"Do you want this dick or what?"

"Oh shit... yes!!" he responded, trying to catch his breath.  "I've never
wanted a cock so bad in all my life."

"Then you know what to do."

He nodded and stood up.  His boxers were still soaking wet and clung lewdly
to his skin.  His big beefy nuts were clearly visible through the soggy
white material.  His dick had managed to escape through the fly and stood
out proudly in front of him.  It was a good eight or nine inches long and
was the color of dark brown sugar.  The hood had retracted behind the thick,
mushroom-shaped head from which a steady stream of precum dripped.  I was
tempted to drop to my knees and suck it dry, but when he turned around and
dropped his drawers, I was reminded of something else I wanted to take care
of first.

"Bend over and spread your cheeks."  I was shocked by my own assertiveness
yet, at the same time, powerfully aroused by it.

He did as I commanded and spread his ass wide so I could get a good look at
his hole.  There, in the center of a ring of curly black hair, lay Victor's
little pink pucker.  I tickled it with my finger and watched it quiver in
anticipation.  Then I pushed my finger in to the first knuckle.  Man, was he
tight!  I shoved my finger deeper inside and felt the walls of his ass bare
down on my digit.  Victor let out a tiny whimper as I invaded his shit hole.

"You ever been fucked before?" I asked in response to how tightly his ass
gripped my finger.

"A few times."  I slid my finger in and out with great resistance.  "Unh!
Oh shit!" he bellowed.

"I think we're going to need some lube for this," I said, pulling my finger
out of his tight ass.

Victor ran to his nightstand and came back with a tube of KY.  He handed it
to me and resumed his position.  I applied a generous amount of lube to his
upturned ass and shoved it in my finger.  He was still super tight, but he
was as slippery as a greased pig.  I coated my cock with the slimy stuff and
tossed the tube aside.  Taking aim at his nearly virgin ass, I pushed
forward until my head popped through the unforgiving entrance to his ass.
Victor yelped and pitched forward, trying to dislodge my cock from his
rectum.  I grabbed onto his hips and held him in place.

"Where do you think you're going?  This is what you wanted, isn't it?"  I
pushed in a little deeper to the sounds of his pitiful moans of lust and
pain.  "Don't fight it... just relax."  My dick was on fire trying to dig
into his unyielding bowels.  I slid in slowly until I felt his firm rump
cradled in my pelvis.  Victor grunted and huffed as he adjusted to the
invasion of my long, thick boner.  He wasn't complaining anymore or trying
to escape.  I'd claimed him; his ass was mine for the taking.  All I needed
now was some indication that he was ready for the pounding of his life.  He
backed up to me and started swaying his hips side to side; his overstuffed
rectum gently clenched and relaxed around my swollen shaft.

I pulled out a few inches then slid back in.  "Mm yeah," Victor purred.  I
did that a few more times; each time, his moans grew a little louder and his
butt opened up a little more.  I pulled all the way out then let him feel
the entire length of my cock burrowing into him again.  He really liked
that; it unleashed the Latin animal that had seduced me into his bed in the
first place.

"Ah yeah... fuck my tight Colombian ass!" he howled.  "Harder... harder!!"

I hammered his hole with all my might.  My muscles felt like they were on
fire; I was exhausted but I wasn't going to stop until I'd deposited my cum
somewhere inside of him.

My glossy dick looked enormous thrusting into his red, swollen ass lips.  I
liked the way it clung to my meaty pole every time I withdrew from its tight
embrace and the nasty sounds it made when I plunged back into its slushy
depths.  Victor was a fast learner and was soon doing all the things a good
bottom should do: clamping down during the outstroke, opening up on the
in-stroke, and plenty of filthy encouragement in between.  In fact, he was
screaming so loud I thought for sure my parents would hear him, but I didn't
care; we were two grown men fucking like men were supposed to.  I have to
admit, though, that the thought of sneaking off to the pool house to fuck
the gardener was a big part of the turn on.  Every time I thought about it,
my dick grew just a little bit stiffer and I pounded Victor's ass just a
little bit harder.  It wouldn't be long before his bowels were full of my
seed.

"I'm cumming!" I announced.

"Do it," Victor urged.  "Cum in my ass!  Let me feel your nut inside of me!"

"Unh!!  Oh shit!!"  I felt my nuts tighten up, shortly followed by the surge
of hot semen pumping out of my cock.  I kept thrusting into Victor's hole
which was quickly filling up with my sticky cum.  I churned up the thick
cream with my throbbing cock.  He had a deep, greedy ass that swallowed up
my entire load - and it was a big one!

I extracted my slimy dick from Victor's newly hollowed out bunghole.  He
spun around and licked it clean.  When he was done, I gave into my fatigue
and fell to the ground.  He stood up and waved his throbbing pecker in my
face.  I opened my mouth and accepted his hefty tool into my mouth.  I
lapped up the sweet syrup that coated his dick then opened my mouth wider to
let it slide down my throat.  He grabbed the back of my head and slowly fed
me his juicy dick and I suckled it like a nursing calf.  It wasn't long -
ten, maybe twelve strokes - before I felt his body twitch and tasted the
salty-sweet flavor of his spunk on my tongue.  I gulped it down as it poured
out of his cock, not wanting to miss a drop.  Finally, the last drop
trickled down my throat and he pulled his spit-covered pole out of my mouth.
He collapsed on the floor beside me and I fell asleep in his arms.

I woke up the next morning with the sun beaming in my face.  Victor was
already gone.  Knowing him, he had already been in the yard for a couple of
hours.  I struggled to stand up, my aching muscles resisting me every inch
of the way.  It was painful enough just picking up my trunks; putting them
on was bloody agonizing.  I stumbled out of the pool house and up the long
cobblestone path.

Victor was spreading fertilizer over the lawn.  Last night's activities had
put a limp in his usually fluid gate.  Neither one of us was willing to walk
the long distance between us so, for the moment, we settled for a wave in
lieu of our usual face-to-face chat.  I hobbled into the house and took the
first painful steps up the stairs.

"There you are!" Dad called out.  He walked over to the foot of the
staircase.  "We were looking all over for you.  You missed breakfast."

"Sorry... I, uh, woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep so I went for
an early morning swim."

"Oh, well there's some food left over, but it's probably cold by now."

"Thanks.  I'll just grab a bowl of cereal or something after I take a
shower."

"Okay, suit yourself."

I turned around and climbed the stairs as gracefully as my sore muscles
would allow.  I got halfway up when my father said, "That must have been one
hell of a swim."

I turned around again to see him looking up with a clever smirk on his face.
"You didn't even get your trunks wet."

I looked down at my trunks - which were bone dry - and blushed.  He walked
away laughing.  I frowned and stomped upstairs.  I knew having sex in my
parents' house wasn't such a good idea.