The usual disclaimers apply. This story is a work of fiction, written for the pleasure of consenting adults. It contains imaginary sex scenes and allusions to such scenes between young boys and men. If this offends you, please leave this page. The copyright of this story is held by the author. Your comments, criticism qnd other feedbqck qre welcome at email@example.com
Dedicated to Nifty writer LARRY FLINT (Phangasm), whose writing I admire, enjoy and get off on very much.
Story codes: adult/youth, interracial, incest, spandex fetish
Pete's Turkish Fantasy
Mehmet Yilmaz smiled, as he felt the tall kid under him relax. He slowly caressed the boy's naked butt again. To the middle-aged Turkish man, there was nothing better than the feel of a young blond boy's ass. He sighed, winked at his friend Ramazan who was slowly massaging the boy's upper back and then he dipped his tongue into the kid's ass crack. The boy shuddered and wriggled a bit, but Mehmet's strong and hairy hands had a good grip on the kid's butt. The Turkish wrestler pushed his dark purple tongue a little deeper into the kid's crack and savored the taste. He felt the kid stiffen when his thick black moustache tickled the young teen's sensitive ass.
"Thiz iz so good," Yilmaz thought.
And then he drove his tongue right into boy's hole; he just couldn't wait any longer... He had to give this American boy, whose father was watching the whole scene, a good licking. Pete moaned and thrashed as he was being speared deep in his ass. He gasped and groaned as he felt this strange adult man rimming him... The whole situation made him hotter than ever before. He knew that here, in Turkey, his deepest fantasies would be fulfilled. His mind was almost numb after the exciting things he had experienced during the last few hours. He had almost lost track of time and space, but he knew his Dad was somewhere close, watching him. He hardly knew the man who was licking his asshole, but that didn't matter. He was in a Turkish hammam, surrounded by big, hairy Turkish wrestlers. To be in this situation had been his birthday wish and his Dad had made it possible. Pete sighed happily. He seemed to melt into the warm slab of wet marble on which he was lying as he gave in to the strong, wet tongue. Then, he felt a slick hand pulling his cock and balls away from under his body to let his teen meat hang over the edge of the marble slab. Almost immediately, Pete felt that his cock was sucked into a warm, moist mouth. He moaned again and floated away...
(The night before, a Friday evening at the Palace Hotel in Izmir, Turkey. The time was close to 10.00 PM)
"Are you absolutely sure about this, Pete?"
Concerned, Mr. Millard looked at his son, who was standing in front of him in his small white briefs. The boy just had a shower. His body was still damp and his longish hair stuck to his neck and forehead.
Pete looked into his father's eyes and replied:
"I'm sure about this, dad. 'Course I'm a bit nervous, but hey... you can see what my pecker thinks about it."
Mr. Millard looked at his son's bulging hard-on. He grinned, while he gently squeezed his boy's rock hard cock.
"I can see what that pecker of yours thinks about it, boy..."
He paused and continued to squeeze his own son's rigid tool. He always enjoyed making the boy horny. After a while, he laid his warm hands on the boy's shoulders and asked again:
"Are you really, really sure about it, Pete? It's not too late to call the whole thing off... Just tell me the truth, boy."
Again, Pete's light blue eyes searched his dad's and he replied with a steady voice:
"Yes Dad, Sir. I really, really want this to happen..."
His father noticed a little shudder of excitement running through his son's young body. He saw Pete's nipples getting harder, always the sign that his son was getting more than just horny. Mr. Millard knew for sure now that his boy was still into the fantasy the kid himself had created. The fantasy for which they had flown to Turkey. The fantasy Pete would experience as a gift for his fourteenth birthday. Mr. Millard decided then they would go through with it. After all, he would keep an eye on his sexy boy all the time and if really necessary, he would not hesitate to end the whole thing.
Downstairs, on the ground floor of the hotel suite, a little clock sounded the hour. That brought Mr. Millard back to reality and he looked at his son again. Pete's young cock had started to leak. Mr. Millard stopped squeezing his son's teen dick and took a few steps back. When he spoke to Pete this time, his voice was a little more serious.
"Now that I know that you are serious and willing to continue, I'll give you a few instructions for tonight. This is only to make your birthday experience the best possible. "
Mr. Millard continued, "First of all, you do not make a noise at all when our visitor gets here. Not a single noise and you'll stay in your room Got that, boy?"
Pete smiled and replied: "Yes Dad, Sir!"
"Good", came his dad's reply. "You are supposed to be asleep. Even if I decide to visit your room with our visitor, you pretend to be asleep. If you are clever enough, you can maybe sneak a peak at him, but he shouldn't catch you. Understood?"
"Yes Dad, Sir!"
Mr. Millard saw the little fun lights in Pete's eyes. He decided to play along with him and he answered, while ruffling his kid's light blond hair: "Good boy. So, are you ready, boy?"
"Yes Dad, Sir!"
"Where's your wrestling singlet?"
Pete pointed to a chair, next to his bed. A recently worn shiny light blue wrestling singlet was thrown casually over a chair.
"Good. And now, boy?"
"Now, Dad, Sir, I'm off to bed."
"Right you are! And boy..?" Mr. Millard looked questioningly at Pete.
Mr. Millard stepped up to Pete and took his young boy in a strong, loving hug.
"Happy birthday, my sexy, little horndog."
Pete melted into his father's arms. Father and son shared a long, loving hug. After a while, Mr. Millard disengaged himself again. He ruffled Pete's hair again, smiled and left his son's bedroom. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, he looked over his shoulder to his son and said:
"Oh yeah... no jacking off."
Pete groaned, but his father knew he would be obeyed. His son was raised well and trusted his dad completely.
Downstairs, Mr. Millard went to his office and decided to read some business documents. He didn't expect his visitor for another hour. That very afternoon, while Pete was working out in the hotel gym, Mr. Millard had dialed the phone number he had gotten from one of his contacts at the Organization. The people from this international "agency" would help him to plan and execute his son's birthday wish.
It was nearly midnight, the hour of his appointment with Yilmaz, the Turkish agent of the Organization. Mr. Millard wanted to check on his son again to make sure everything was all right. He left the office, crossed a corridor and quietly walked up a small staircase that connected the two floors of the spacious suite he had rented. He stepped across the landing to the last door on the right. Slowly, he opened it and Mr. Millard looked into the room. The windows were slightly open and the cool air of the Turkish summer night drifted in. A pale beam of moonlight shone on the bed. His boy was fast asleep, breathing lightly. Mr. Millard stood in the door opening and looked at his son while strange emotions came over him.
"Good..." he thought. "He's asleep. Or he's faking it... In either case, he's doing what I told him to."
With a smile, Mr. Millard closed the door of his son's bedroom and walked downstairs again. Coming back to his office he poured himself a scotch and sat down. The ticking of the clock was the only sound to be heard. Mr. Millard sat back and waited. His thoughts were a whirlpool of mixed emotions and he felt the familiar pressure in his balls...
Just after the small clock on his desk had softly chimed midnight, Mr. Millard heard the buzzer of his hotel suite. He quickly rose, walked across the corridor and slowly opened the suite's door. A dark figure entered.
"Good evening, Mr. Yilmaz." Mr. Millard said to his visitor.
A deep voice replied:
"Good evening, Mizter Millard. I'm Mehmet Yilmaz."
The men shook hands. Yilmaz' handshake was firm and Mr. Millard got the impression he was dealing with a determined, but friendly man. Mr. Millard led the man into his office and had a good looked at his visitor. He saw a chunky man of medium height, about forty years old. He was carrying a shiny leather briefcase. The man was wearing worn, tight fitting black trousers and a white shirt. His face was pale; he had a big, closely trimmed black moustache and his eyes where dark and smoldering. His hands were large and strong. The man's shirt was open at the neck and revealed a mass of dark hair on the developed chest. Mr. Millard recognized the features: this man was unmistakably Turkish.
"Sit down, please." Mr. Millard said. "Would you like something to drink?"
The Turk sat down and asked for a scotch. Millard quickly poured two glasses and offered one to his guest. Then he walked to the desk and opened one of its drawers. He took out a heavy leather-bound folder and a pen and sat opposite of his guest.
For what seemed a long time, the two men just looked at each other. The tension in the room was heavy but pleasant.
Mr. Millard finished his drink and thought: "Well, let's go..."
He cleared his throat and said: "Sir, I presume you completely understand what I am looking for?"
The other man looked at him intently and replied: "Yes... of courze I understand, Mizter Millard. My contacts at the Organization have explained everything to me. Your son has a certain... wish and you want me to help to fulfill that wish, yes?"
"Yes, that's what it's about." Mr. Millard said.
They were silent again. The Turk smiled and made the ice cubes in his glass tinkle.
"So... what uh... what have you come up with, Mr. Yilmaz? " asked Mr. Millard.
His client shifted in his chair and spoke in a business-like voice: "The Organization contacted me immediately when they heard from you and your son's wish. You see, I am official of a wrestling club in thiz town. I manage our team of wrestlers and organize tournaments."
Mr. Millard listened to the heavily accented voice. He had a good feeling about this man.
"Olympic style wrestling or oil wrestling?" Mr. Millard asked.
Mr. Yilmaz stroked his thick moustache and replied: "Both, Mizter Millard. We are all men between 35 till 50 yearz and we like wrestling...we are veterans and we have matches against other Turkish senior clubz. But our club iz... special..."
Mr. M smiled. He knew what was coming.
"Sometimes we perform... special services for the Organization, you see? In this case, we're very willing to help you and your son. "
Mr. Millard felt a sudden rush in his crotch area; it was the sign he understood. He was so aroused now!
"So..." Mr. Millard said, "Your club can help my son to... get what he wants for his birthday?"
Mr. Yilmaz nodded.
"Yez, Mizter Millard."
"May I ask you why you are doing this?" Millard asked.
Even for a business-like man like him it was difficult to maintain his composure. This conversation was really exciting him. He already was having visions of seeing his young son sucking Yilmaz' cut cock, or being rimmed by the heavily mustached Turk, while other hairy wrestlers were watching the scene, tugging at their fat dicks inside their wrestling singlets. But this was not the time for dreaming. The real thing would happen very soon...
Yilmaz cleared his throat and replied: "We Turkish men like... blond boyz... Your son he iz blond?"
Mr. Millard nodded and the Turkish man smiled.
"We are loyal to the Organization. And most of the wrestlers in my club like boyz, too. You see, except our fee, we get something out of it as well." Yilmaz continued with a horny look in his eyes.
"So, tell me more about your son, pleaze."
Mr. Millard opened the folder he had in his hands and showed Yilmaz a few wrestling pictures of Pete.
"My son Pete likes wrestling, as you can see. He has been on the school team since he was 10 and he even won a few tournaments."
The Turk listened intently, although he glanced from time to time at the pictures of Pete. The American boy was really sexy! Judging from the pictures, Millard's son was tall and skinny. His hair was very blond, almost white and his skin was very light. The kid's legs were also skinny but with nicely developing muscles. One of the pictures showed Pete Millard posing in a shiny red and silver wrestling singlet and besides immediately falling for the boy's killer smile, Yilmaz really admired Pete's upper body. There were still traces of baby fat, but the lats on the boy's sides and his small but strong pecs showed that Pete Millard was a healthy, great looking kid. The Turk imagined the boy's flat tummy and he nearly drooled when he looked at the two small, pink nipples that were showing on either side of the thin, shiny shoulder straps. Yilmaz forced himself to listen to the boy's father again.
"And I think you know the rest. Pete wants to have a powerful sex experience. A good and horny sex experience with Turkish men, Turkish wrestlers to be precise. Well, how could I say no to my boy? I love him!"
Yilmaz just nodded. He was a father himself and he loved his three sons. Especially the youngest, Sinan. He glanced again at the picture of Pete in his wrestling uniform and said to Millard:
"Your son iz very handsome... Yez, I know the other wrestlers will like him." He winked at Mr. Millard.
That wink got Mr. Millard even hotter. This was some trip! His son would love it.
Then Mr. Yilmaz looked Millard in the eyes as he said: "Me and the other wrestlerz made full program for your son for several days, like he wanted. He will experience lots of different things, sex things, at different moments and with different men. If you want, Mizter Millard, I could give you all details, but I think you'll get more pleasure yourself if you don't know much more than your son..."
Mr. Millard nodded. Yilmaz was right; things would be much hotter if even he didn't know exactly what was going to happen.
"Got it, Mr. Yilmaz, but how uh... how does it all start?"
"We made special plan." Yilmaz quickly took a small notebook from his pocket, leaved through it and a big grin appeared on his face.
"Ah yez... here it is." He looked at Millard again. "Mizter Millard, maybe it would be okay to tell you one thing about our plan. Your son, he iz a wrestler, right? So, me and the other men from the team have made a fantasy... situation for him. Thiz situation is the start point for Pete's birzday present. You understand?"
Pete's father did.
The Turk continued: "Tomorrow afternoon you and your son will come to our club. You advised Pete to become member of our club. But because he is very young, me and the secretary of the club, my good friend Ramazan, want to have a little talk with him. That situation would be good start point, right?"
Mr. Millard thought it was very good and very arousing. He knew Pete liked to roleplay now and then and the scene the Turks had come up with sounded very good.
Yilmaz took a sip from his scotch and continued:
"To make things more special, we want your son to wear special track suit and wrestling singlet. He likes that, yez?"
"Hell yeah... my boy likes that shiny stuff! The Organization thought about everything."
"Good," Yilmaz replied. "The track suit and singlet will be delivered tomorrow morning. They are red and white. Very shiny and tight. We want your son to wear it when he comes to us... but no underwear. He must come to us... freeballing. That is the right word, right?"
MR. Millard grinned. "It sure is, sir!"
"Good... I like to see that. Young boy in tight and shiny wrestling singlet."
The two men drank from their scotch. Then Yilmaz asked:
"I'm curious, Mr. Millard... what is your boy's... butt like?"
Pete's father sighed. Even thinking about his son's young ass made him hard. He had licked and fucked it so many times...
"Small but firm and round," he simply answered. "And very tasty. My little man loves to get licked and rimmed good."
The Turk's eyes twinkled and he made a horny grin.
"And what is your son'z manhood like?"
"Not bad for a guy his age, I think. It's uncut and when Pete's really sexed-up, his cock gets as hard as a nail. I'd say his dick is about 4,5 inches hard and his balls are almost hairless. He's got a nice tool to play with. But I don't want to brag about my own kid's cock, of course.
Yilmaz laughed and said:
"No problem, Mizter Millard. When you're a proud father you can be proud of your son's manhood."
"I drink to that!" Mr. Millard finished his scotch.
Yilmaz also finished his drink, took another look at the pictures of the young American boy and then said to Mr. Millard:
"Mizter Millard, thank you for the information. We have dizcussed everything, I think. Me and my friends from the club will give your son a birzday present he'll never forget!"
Mr. Millard smiled. He was happy that everything went so easy and business-like. He hadn't expected it would have been so easy to fulfill his son's deepest fantasies. The Organization was really terrific!
Millard finally said:
"Thank you very much, Mr. Yilmaz. I'm glad we met."
The two men stood up, looked each other deep in the eyes and then exchanged a firm handshake.
Sitting down again, Mr. Millard said:
"Concerning the payment. Of course I agree to pay the price you asked."
"Fine, Mizter Millard." Yilmaz said.
Millard went to his desk and took out a large plain envelope from it.
"Here's $10.000 for you and your wrestling friends, Mr. Yilmaz. And thanks again."
The hairy Turk took the envelope, opened it and looked inside. Then he simply folded it and put the money in one of his pant pockets.
"Thank you, Mizter Millard. We'll do our best."
"Great! Another drink, Mr. Yilmaz?"
"The same pleaze, Mizter Millard."
Millard refilled the glasses, offered the scotch to the Turkish man and sat down. They drank and were silent for a while.
Then Yilmaz asked:
"Mizter Millard, you like playing with your son?"
Mr. Millard looked his guest in the eye when he answered.
"Since a couple of years now, since Pete came into his teen years, I really wanted my son. He gets me extremely horny. I wanted him. I really wanted him bad, as they say. Well, to make a long story short, I seduced him when he was 12 and we've been having great sex sessions ever since."
He shot Mr. Yilmaz a little smile.
"Funny, I realize now how much it excites me, going to see my son Pete having sex and getting fucked by another real man."
Millard paused. He felt his dick harden again. With a hoarse voice he continued:
"As soon as I knew my son's sexual desires I secretly made a plan to fulfill them. I contacted the Organization and then I had to wait. When I got your number last week, I proposed my son Pete to come with me to Izmir for his birthday. The rest you know..."
The Turk shot him a horny grin.
"I understand, Mizter Millard. Your son is a very lucky boy to have such a loving father. I love my sons too. And you can trust me, I am a real man!"
To stress his point, Yilmaz groped himself. Millard looked at the sizable and heavy-looking package between the Turk's legs. Millard grinned.
"I never doubted that, sir."
Yilmaz gave his cock and balls another squeeze and sighed. Then he continued:
"Before I forget, Mizter Millard: to let you see and enjoy what is happening to your son and also to be sure he's safe, you will be near him all the time when me or any of my friends are... having fun with him. You'll see and hear everything!"
"Thanks, Yilmaz. That way I won't have to worry about my boy."
Yilmaz said: "And you know that looking at your young son can be very pleasurable. I know..."
The hoarse sigh from Mr. Millard confirmed that statement.
"Okay, "Mr. Millard said, "We'll be at your club tomorrow at... let's say 1 PM?"
The horny Turk nodded.
"Good idea, Mr. Millard. We'll be ready for him..." The Turk paused and then said: "Mizter Millard, you think that your son likes to vizit our hammam? We have one in our club."
Mr. Millard swallowed. He suddenly saw a large, steam-filled room. Rays of light came in through a dome, shining on moist slabs of stone where big, hairy, freshly bathed men relaxed, talked or received massages by young, half-naked bath servants. He saw his son, his hairless skin slick with oil and dressed in nothing but wet, skin-tight white undies, ordered to give a massage to a hairy and powerful Turk. The big man's friends sat around and made horny, guttural remarks about his son Pete, while every so often one of those Turkish studs would fondle the boy's cock or pat his butt... Pete would be in heaven!
"That's a very good idea, Mr. Yilmaz", Mr. Millard replied, suddenly coming back to acting reality. "I'm sure that Pete'd like that."
Yilmaz smiled, searched his pockets and handed Mr. Millard a small business card. On it was written Yilmaz' name and the address of wrestling club.
"I'll see you tomorrow at 1 P.M., inshallah. Just ask for me and someone will bring you to my office. And make sure Pete wears the sports uniform."
The two men looked at each other and Mr. Yilmaz winked.
Mr. Millard smiled and nodded.
"Till tomorrow, Mr. Yilmaz."
Mr. Millard offered his hand and his visitor smiled lewdly. He even seemed to lick his lips.
The Turk paused.
"Before I go, could I pleaze have another look at ze boy'z pictures?" the Turkish man asked.
Mr. Millard saw the desire in his visitor's eyes.
"Of course... or would you like to see him in the flesh?"
The man nodded and his dark eyes seemed to light up.
"Yez... Could I?"
Mr. Millard rose. "Just follow me. But be quiet, I don't want Pete to see you. That would just spoil the surprise"
Mr. Millard smiled to himself. No way his son would show to be awake, not after the instructions.
The Turk smiled and adjusted his heavy cock and balls in his tight trousers.
"This is going very well, " he thought.
Carefully, he walked up the stairs behind the boy's father and together the men crossed the landing. As they stood in front of the boy's bedroom door, Mr. Millard put his finger to his lips, slowly opened it and then stepped aside to allow the other man to look inside.
The room was flooded with moonlight, giving the bedroom a surreal atmosphere. Except for the kid's gentle breathing it was dead silent.
As he watched the sleeping boy, Mr. Yilmaz breathed faster. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen! He just didn't know where to look first. At one of the boy's long, pale legs that had slipped from under the covers, or at his head with tousled almost white hair, or at the way the slightly moist mouth was opened? Everything was a very sexy sight. The Turkish wrestling club official felt a stirring between his legs; he had to adjust himself again. Then, on a chair next to the boy's bed, he noticed something that excited him even more. Mr. Yilmaz took a deep breath and whispered:
"Iz that the kid'z wrestling suit?"
Mr. Millard nodded and answered:
"Yes Mr. Yilmaz, it is. He wears it every day, during practice or now that we're on vacation, while he works out in the hotel gym." He paused for a few seconds, while the strong Turk continued looking at the sleeping boy and the shiny blue singlet.
Mr. Millard continued deviously:
"It is probably still damp from today's work-out."
The Turk turned around and Mr. Millard saw the raw emotion in his Turkish visitor's eyes.
"Go ahead... take it, Mr. Yilmaz. It's a gift."
Mr. Yilmaz whispered a hoarse word of thanks and snatched the light blue singlet from the chair. Unable to resist himself, he buried his face in the crotch of the silky spandex wrestling suit.
"Steady, Mr. Yilmaz, " Mr. Millard whispered. "There will be plenty of time for that later."
Still mesmerized by young Pete and the singlet in his hands, the Turk nodded. He felt Mr. Millard gently pulling him out of the room. The two men walked downstairs again. Mr. Millard walked Mr. Yilmaz to the door of the suite.
"Good night, sir. We'll see you tomorrow." Mr. Millard said, as he opened the door to let the Turkish wrestler out.
"Good night, Mizter Millard, till tomorrow. The track suit and singlet for the boy will be brought to your hotel room before 11 AM."
Yilmaz quickly walked to the end of the corridor and disappeared out of sight.
"Now that was a successful evening..." Mr. Millard thought as he returned to his office. "Pete will have a great birthday!"
He poured himself another drink. The pressure in his balls was almost too much now. He just had to relieve himself. Sighing, he undid his zipper; his big rock hard cock stood straight up. He gave it a few firm tugs, wet his dick with spit and slowly started to pump it, while his mind focused on his favorite jack-off scene: Pete being plugged at the same time up his ass and throat by two big, horny Turkish wrestlers. The boy's young body was wet with sweat and Millard imagined his son's struggle with the two fat cocks slamming into him. The Turk fucking his ass sometimes slapped it, encouraging the kid to take his cut pole deeper and deeper up his tender ass. The other hairy man pistoned in and out the boy's small mouth like a drill, shouting at the lad to swallow it. After only a few minutes of pounding his cock with his spit-slicked fist, Mr. Millard reached a mind-blowing orgasm. His thick, creamy jizz, that his son loved to swallow so much, splattered all over him.
END OF PART ONE
Here ends the first chapter of my next attempt at a Man-boy story. I had great fun writing it, wearing my worn spandex cycling shorts. (Shall I put them up for sale at eBay?) I already have thought a lot about the story's development, but for this story I really would like to work with another writer. I would like to discuss the plot and dialogues and take turns in writing the following chapters and/or scenes with someone who pervs just as much about (fictional) Man-boy adventures and spandex as I do. If you think you understood the general atmosphere of this chapter and its plot and you would like to work on this story with me, just send me an email with your suggestions and ideas for this story. If you have written stories before, I would be very interested to read (samples of) them, too. If there are guys out there who speak Turkish, please drop me a mail, too. I could use some help. You can reach me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks!