Date: Wed, 16 Jul 2003 23:41:45 +0100 (BST)
From: Simon Turner <simont1987@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: The French Exchange

This is all my own work, and can be freely distributed for all I care, but
please keep my email address attached.

b/b

This is a true story that happened to me last year when I was 14 during a
school exchange trip to France.  Our school is a small boys' school in
Kent, England and has links with other schools around Europe.  I am doing
French GCSE so it was organised, as it had been at the end of every summer
holiday for as long as the schools had been linked, for the top set on the
GCSE course, to go to France and stay with a family over there.  The hope
was that we would learn some French before starting the proper GCSE course.
They would, in turn, come and stay with us the following year.

It was organised for us to go during the first week of the summer holidays,
and although I liked French, I didn't want to stay with a family that I
didn't know, and have to talk to them in French for the full week.  I was
just glad that some of my friends from school, were also going on the trip
or else I would probably have tried to get out of it.  I'm very glad now
that I didn't.

We got to this school in Nice in the South of France by coach.  It took
about 18 hours and by the time we got there, I was not in the best mood as
I really needed a shower and to stretch my legs.  The last thing I needed
was to have to meet a strange family and be nice to them - in a foreign
language and be separated from my mates and go to a house in a city that I
didn't know, but what choice did I have?  It was about six O Clock in the
evening and it was still really hot, Our whole coach stank of 25 unwashed
teenage boys and two teachers whose hygiene was lacking at the best of
times, and we opened the coach door to what must have been about 100
strangers, and we had to try and be pleasant.

It wasn't long before I had been brought together with my new family,
removed from all my friends, and was being dragged off by a rather
respectable looking lady of about 35 who spoke no English and had no
interest in learning, but relied entirely on he 14 year-old son Jacques to
get information out of me.  I had all these intentions to try to speak
French when I got there, but I was so tired and all the French I did try
came out as a total mess.  Jacques' English however was amazing, and the
whole of the drive home was spent with Jacques translating everything I
said (in French and English) into understandable French.  I found out that
he was an only child and the reason his English was so good, was due to his
father being a lawyer in London, and he learnt from a young age.  His
father was to be away all the time I was to be in France, ironically in
London, which is about 30 miles from my house in Kent.

I hadn't at the time considered myself as gay, but I couldn't help but get
some feels of attraction come over me, even as he smiled almost
apologetically at not understanding my fragmented French.  Although we were
the same age, Jacques looked older than me.  He was easily 5'8 compared to
my 5'5 (I've shot up since then) and he had a healthy tanned complexion
that I could only have dreamed of, coming from a cold, dull small village
in the England.  His hair was dark brown and short and as I looked more
closely I could see some wisps of hair on his top lip where a fuzzy teenage
moustache was beginning to appear.  He was wearing a polo shirt and shorts
and I could see his legs were already covered in a fine dark hair, all the
way up to his louse fitting shorts.

We were leaving the city now along a coastal road and I was informed that
we would arrive soon.  When we arrived, the house was amazing.  It was
pretty much on the beach, set just off from the road in quite a large, well
cared for garden.  I couldn't believe it.  My bags were unpacked and I was
shown to my room.  It was a nice size, with a good view onto the beach.  I
was quickly shown round the rest of the house by Jacques while his mother
prepared something to eat.  We ended up in his bedroom.  When we got in, he
apologized for the mess, and quickly piled away some boxer-briefs and an
old T-shirt that looked like they had just been left where they were taken
off the day before, but I didn't really notice any of this because his room
was amazing.  He had a Massive television.  A HiFi, which took up an entire
wall.  He had more computer games and CDs than anybody I new and a great
big double bed.  His parents must be loaded.  To top it off, he had his own
en suite bathroom.  It was at that point that I remembered how smelly I
was, and I asked if I could clean myself up a bit.  He said sure and said I
could use his shower.  I didn't see any harm in that and left him surfing
the net in his room when I got a change of clothes and took them into his
bathroom with me.  The door didn't appear to have a lock on it, which I
thought was strange, but it didn't matter, because the door only opened to
Jacques' room and I guessed he wouldn't walk in on me.  I kicked off my
shoes, removed my socks, and pulled off my T-shirt and shorts.  I noticed
myself in a full-length mirror on his wall.  I looked at myself for a bit.
I was still quite short for my age and I was quite thin.  I lifted up my
arms and did, what was then, pretty much a daily inspection to see how my
underarm hair growth was coming along.  Still not much to speak of, but a
small circle of blonde hairs were growing under each arm.  I wondered how
much hair Jacques would have under his arms if any.  I looked down at my
legs and felt my hair growth there, looking for any improvement since two
days ago when I last checked.  A fine layer had grown over the bottom of my
legs, but the tops were nearly bald.  Nowhere near as hairy as Jacques.  I
was just about to remove my boxer shorts when the door opened.  This
startled me, and I saw Jacques looking at me in my boxer shorts.  I was
(and still am) quite shy, so I picked my T-shirt off the floor and crudely
pulled it up, covering my poorly developed chest.  "Just thought you might
need some help with the shower", explained Jacques.  "I couldn't hear any
water running and I thought it might be a bit different from English
showers so I thought I'd give you a hand".  "Thank you", I responded,
blushing a bit.  "I wasn't sure how it worked and I was about to ask you",
I said trying to explain why I hadn't already got in the shower.  The
shower was quickly explained to me.  It was very simple and I could have
worked it out for myself, but I nodded appreciatively and he left, closing
the door behind him.  I quickly jumped in the shower and hurriedly
showered.  I didn't want him to come in again and catch me naked, so I was
out before he had another chance to come in.  I dried myself off and
changed into some fresh clothes feeling normal and clean again.

Jacques explained that that evening he was having a party for all the
English people and his French friends who they were staying with and that
it his mum was going out for the night saying with her sister who lived in
Nice itself because she didn't want to spoil the party.  Cool mum or what?
We had a massive meal, which I was really too tired to enjoy, but I did my
best to answer the questions thrown at me, and learned a bit about Jacques
like what he liked to do, which seemed similar to me such as skate and
swim.  We also talked about the party, which, although it was going to be a
sleepover, his mum said it would be lights out by eleven and there was to
be no drinking.  I told them this was a relief to me, as I didn't drink
much and I didn't want to be seen as a lightweight in front of all Jacques'
friends.

His Mum left as the first few people arrived at nine O Clock and I was
introduced to some new French people, but when the rest of my mates from
school arrived, the group split into English and French people.  Every
French guest had brought at least a bottle of wine, or a six-pack of beers
and they were sharing it out with us.  They were obviously more used to
alcohol than we were because within a few cans of beer we (the English)
were all a bit drunk, and slurring our speech.  I didn't drink as much as
everybody else and kept swigging from my can without actually drinking
much, so was relatively sober.  We talked about standard guy stuff like
girls, and how the family Pete (my best friend) was staying with had a
swimming pool, and he had already seen the 16 year old sister of the family
he was staying with in a very revealing bikini and had already jacked off
to her since be here.  Then the inevitable happened and people got sick,
and trailed off to bed in a drunken stupor, and in the end (about two in
the morning by now) it was just me and Jacques left.  My bed was taken, and
my floor was filled with a mixture of French and English people from the
party so I asked Jacques what to do.  He said, his room had been locked so
was empty and I could stay in his room.  And that's where it all
started...

I grabbed my sleeping bag and laid it out on the floor at the base of his
bed.  Jacques said that I should sleep in his bed as we could both fit with
lots of room, which of course was true.  I had hoped this is what he would
have said because the floor was very hard and the night before I'd slept on
a coach.  Jacques said he was going to the bathroom to get ready for bed
and clean his teeth, but I was obviously a bit drunk by this time, and
didn't want to clean my teeth anyway and was glad to just flake out.  I
removed my shoes and trousers and decided to sleep in my boxers and
T-shirt.  I usually sleep nude, but I guessed not when I was sharing a bed.
5 minutes later Jacques came out of the bathroom in just his boxers.  The
light was still on and I could see straight way that he was a lot further
through puberty than me.  His chest had the beginning of some definition to
it and his arms looked about twice as thick as mine.  He yawned and, when
he raised his arms above his head I could see his pit hair was a lot denser
than mine although not like that of an adult my any means.  He also had a
bit of hair around his navel with a small streak of hair that disappeared
into the top of his red polka dot boxers.  "Nice boxers" I joked as he
jumped into bed.  It was still a very hot night, I still had my T-shirt on,
and I asked if I could take it off and he said that it was cool, so I took
it off quickly and through it by the side of the bed.  I said I was a drunk
(a small exaggeration) and very tired so we decided to just go to sleep.

I had closed my eyes for about 2 minutes and I was aware that Jacques was
quite restless and kicking the covers off the bed.  I was still very hot,
so I didn't mind and just pretended to be asleep.  I didn't much like the
idea of being nearly naked on another guy's bed, with another guy (what if
I got a boner in the morning and he noticed) but I guessed there was not
all that much I could do about it.  I just kept my eyes closed and enjoyed
the warm French night air on my pale English skin.  Just at that moment
Jacques seemed to turn over, as if in his sleep and his hand landed right
on top of mine.  This was the first time a guy had touched my hand like
that (all be it accidentally, or so I thought) and I was suddenly filled
with a strange feeling.  My heart started racing and my stomach felt
queasy.  I was really enjoying this feeling of close contact, which I had
never felt before.  I had had girlfriends before and in one case, held a
lot more than her hand, but never before had it felt like this.  I suddenly
felt more naked than before and a boner was growing quickly in my boxers.
What if he saw?  I hoped he was asleep and I could just stay like that all
night.

But then he shifted sideways in the bed.  I just stayed as still as I
could, hoping that he would think I was asleep and definitely hoping he
would not see my, by now fully erect dick, which would have made a very
visible lump in the front of my shorts.  It was very dark with the lights
out so my mind was somewhat at ease, but I thought he must have been awake.
Since his move, nearly his whole arm was in contact with mine, and I felt a
completely new surge of ecstasy as I felt his young muscles through my own
weaker arms.

Then it happened.  The moment I knew he was awake, and that all this had
been intentional.  He picked up my left arm (he was to my left) and placed
it on his navel.  I could barely contain my excitement, and was putting so
much effort into trying to make it look like I was asleep, to see how far
he would take it.  I could feel his youthful beginnings of a six-pack
beneath my fingers.  His navel hair between my fingers, beckoning my to
feel what was just a few inched further down his body.  I could almost feel
his pulse from where I was, and his breathing had quickened.  Was I being
unnaturally still?  How still are people when they sleep normally?  All
these questions going through my head.  I was just about to feign moving my
arm onto my side of the bed, safe in the knowledge that it would be
returned, when he picked it up again and moved it slowly down and onto his
shorts.  He let out a small groan of pleasure as my fingers, quite
subconsciously, wrapped themselves around the 6 inch shaft of his boxers
covered dick.  I could feel his pre-cum around the head of his dick even
through his shorts, which made me produce a lot more of my own.  He then
lifted my hand again, but to my disappointment I found it back over my side
of the bed.  Then I realised.  I felt him raise his body off the bed
slightly, and with one swift movement, he had removed his boxers and was
now lying totally naked next to me on the bed.  Within no time my hand had
been placed on his throbbing dick and was being directed over the whole six
inches of it, and down onto his balls, which my fingers cupped as if a
reflex.  He let out a small yelp of pleasure again (but not loud enough to
wake me).  I was having as much fun as he was, but he thought I was asleep,
so I thought I'd make him work for it, so I rolled onto my right side, away
from him, with both my hands to myself, away from him.

Jacques seemed put out by this but I felt him move onto his side, as if to
weigh up his options.  I needless to say, was wide-awake, enjoying every
minute of it, wondering what he was going to do next.  I could feel his
eyes burying into the back of my head, when suddenly I felt a tug at the
back of my shorts.  The base of my shorts was gradually being lowered, and
after a cautious minute of small movements, most of my backside must have
been showing.  I made a small sleep noise as if I was about to wake up and
all activity stopped for a few seconds and then gradually started up again.
I thought I would make it easier for him so I rolled onto my back again.  I
felt him lean over me, his breath soft and warm over my body, as he eased
my boxers down exposing my, still hard, four and a half inch erection with
a thud onto my chest.  Was he going to know that I was awake because of my
boner? But I thought I always have them when I wake in the morning and I
must have them when I have wet dreams so what the hell.  It was very erotic
and Jacques didn't seem to mind.  His hand landed on my chest, and I must
have flinched, but still he carried on.  His hand followed down, feeling
under my armpit, and then off over the rest of my torso.  I had never been
touched like this by anybody, and needless to say I was very turned on.
His hand was now at my navel, where it stayed for a while before going
further south, fingers tight around my cock and then delicately around my
balls.  Just then, I felt a warm breath around my penis and suddenly I felt
a soft kiss, just on the tip of my pre-cum soaked dick.  He must have
thought I was very drunk and very tired to sleep through this, but then I
hadn't had a proper sleep for ages and my other English mates had got very
drunk.  Then the most amazing thing happened.  He was sucking on my whole
cock.  His mouth was so warm and soft and I just wanted to scream with
pleasure.  I couldn't contain myself any more, and I pushed the back of his
head closer to my throbbing dick.  He was phased my consciousness for about
half a second, but then just went for it, sucking harder and stronger,
until a few glorious seconds later I released my load into his mouth.  I
hadn't had a wank for a few days previously (quite a record for me at the
time, due to having been in a coach before), so I was pleased by the amount
of jizz I produced.  Jacques swallowed it all, and we both collapsed on the
bed.  "How long have you been awake?" he asked, still quite surprised that
I was.  Maybe he was drunker than I thought.  "Long enough" I replied.  "Do
you want me to do you now?"

To be continued...

This is my first attempt at this type of thing, so any comments are
gratefully received.

Any comments to SimonT1987@yahoo.co.uk