Date: Mon, 29 Apr 2024 07:52:52 +0200 (CEST)
From: Boris Chen <borischenaz@mailfence.com>
Subject: Captured chapter 29

Chapter 29. First time with Luis since the twink party.

The next day was Saturday, I had to leave Danville early to open my
office. We walked the length of the runway (again) looking for any damage
(from reverse-thrust braking) to the new runway during my landing
yesterday. We never saw anything except faint black streaks when the main
landing gear first contacted the asphalt, which is totally normal. The skid
marks started two feet beyond the LZ box. If we found any cracks or missing
layers I was ready to shout "That's on my side of the runway!" Then we
checked the Citation again and found everything was as it should be. When I
told Dan I needed to leave soon he offered to drop me off at the N2 bus
stop in town by the post office. The actual bus stop is beside the highway.

The bus stop was like the newer ones in the states, a steel bench with sun
and wind screens and a roof with a sign describing the N2 bus route, in
Arabic. I paced around in the warm early morning sunshine for 20 minutes
then the bus appeared in the distance so I got out my one-Euro bills, I'd
need three for a transfer because I'd be taking the bus to work from home.

It's interesting standing beside the N2, a four lane divided highway that
really doesn't have too many speed limit signs. I think it's something like
60mph (95kph?), I never drive here.  Since car ownership is uncommon in
Morocco that makes most of the traffic on the N2 different types of
trucks. On an American US Route XX highway you see mostly cars, but here
it's mostly trucks, big ones and little ones, loud ones and smoky ones. I
saw lots of semis roar by the bus stop bench.

The end of the N2 is at the big train station on the southeast side of
Tangier, which is about .9 of a mile south of my apartment, it's an easy
walk (aprox 20 mins) on a smooth sidewalk. I walked swiftly toward the bay,
the sidewalk ends at a traffic light about 200 feet from the KFC front
doors.

I got home at 8:25am and took a shower then texted Luis. He was supposed to
be in Tangier at his grandfather's place this weekend. We don't really know
each other well, but we actually stood face to face and spoke at the twink
party for fifteen minutes. I admired his body and his rather long dick, but
he was un-cut and I came from a place where most boys were cut the day they
were born. I didn't even know foreskins existed until I was in high school
and saw my first turtle neck dick.

----

Luis responded ten minutes later, he said he was helping his grandfather in
the bathroom when his phone buzzed. I replied right away asking if he
wanted to go have a beer somewhere and he replied `Si! Hay una barra cerca
del apartamento de mi abuelo.'

Luis said he's near the airport. That area is thick with `Section-8
housing.' We decided to meet at a bar near the airport. He said he'd walk
over and meet me there, we agreed on 7pm tonight. I must confess I grew a
small wet spot just talking to him about meeting. I decided to close the
store a little early so I could race home and take a short nap, maybe 90
minutes to reset my brain.

After my nap I showered and changed into nicer (more revealing) clothes and
left at 6pm and took a red taxi to near the airport and walked about half a
mile north to the cafe. The sign was in Arabic, I had no idea what it was
called and probably couldn't pronounce it anyway. The place was trying to
look like the old beatnik cafes inside the walled city but this place was
full of off-duty airport employees. I arrived 13 minutes early and Luis was
already there on a barstool. I recognized him from behind because of his
long black hair. The place was playing blues-jazz, what I call heroin
music, much of it in English. We discussed drugs at first because of the
beatnik atmosphere. Luis said he really didn't use any but he had smoked
pot, he liked spiked punch (like hard lemonade) but mostly he was too busy
with school to get high these days. I was kind of surprised he knew the
word Beatnik. This was his weekend off school to take care of his
grandfather, the old guy can no longer be left alone.

The area around the airport where all the welfare housing (section-8) is
located is supposedly one of the higher crime areas of Tangier. It's a
large cluster of ten-story government owned apartment blocks, very plain,
with minimal parking and quite a bit of graffiti and reports of gun shots
at night. It's a good place to get arrested at 3am. But it's not as bad as
I make it sound. I think they had three murders in that area last year,
which is not very impressive compared to Madrid or New York, where they
have three per day.

Black market drugs are available all over Morocco but if the modesty police
catch you buying/selling narcs you will probably vanish from the
planet. Maybe not that day but you will be added to the list. This
arbitrary strict enforcement tends to keep crime lower in this country. Be
afraid of the criminals but be even more afraid of being caught.

Seated beside Luis on the next bar stool I asked about his grandfather (we
spoke in Spanish). "My grandfather has dementia and it's getting worse
quickly, the Medico is testing different drugs on him to get him calmed
down in the evening because he goes crazy late in the day but this new pill
we're using makes him feeling tired about an hour after dinner and he
sleeps all night, but he still gets up early like he has something
important to do, like a job. We have to put it in his food because he
thinks everyone's trying to control his thoughts. He knows something is
wrong but the worse it gets the more he fights everyone. He's hallucinating
every day now, 4 weeks ago it was like twice a week."

"How old is he?" I asked.

"He's 71, but they say he probably won't make it to his next birthday. They
say he does not have Alzheimer's but has a form of dementia that runs in
his family and mostly effects men, and gets worse quickly. Men with this
disease often get violent near the end, he is starting to get that way
now."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Seventy one is a good life, right?" I asked.

"Yah, it's okay. We lived with my grandparents for years when we were
little kids, they were like my parents. Grandma died in 2005 and now
everything is different and we all take turns helping him, but when I left
he was already in bed and zonked out for the night with a big diaper on, so
he's cool."

"What drug is he taking now?" I asked thinking I already knew the answer.

"It's a small yellow pill with a weird American name."

"Probably Zyprax?" I offered.

"I think that sounds right but I'm not sure. He has pills for his blood
pressure and cholesterol, but he's starting to refuse them too. We crush
them and mix it in his food. Believe me, we are muy lucky he likes
applesauce!"

"And he's been sun-downing in the evening?"

"I think that's what it's called, late in the day he gets wound-up and he
gets angry at everyone and he wants to do things that don't exist and you
cannot explain to him it's 2019 and not 1969 and he's not in Vietnam. I
tried to tell him Hanoi is a tourist destination now and he accuses me of
telling lies for the CIA! And I say, "But Grandpa, I'm only 19, and the CIA
doesn't hire anyone without a college education." We've actually got into
fights with him about not going outside to shoot the NVA. I think he
volunteered to serve with Morocco in the war as a foot soldier. I think he
was really gung-ho when he was my age. It's hard to imagine him like that,
but it's true. It's hard to imagine he is my mother's father!"

After a brief pause Luis said, "Abuelo always eats a snack after dinner, we
put medicine in his pudding or in his applesauce. About 90 minutes later he
gets the yawns so we help him to the bathroom to put his diaper on, and get
him in bed with the bed-alarm if he tries to get out of bed overnight. The
tiredness hits him so suddenly he never makes an association with dinner
and getting tired suddenly." Luis kind of chuckled at the situation. I told
him I could not imagine what it must be like seeing that in someone he
loves so much.

Then Luis kind of got quiet and he said, "It's really crazy, I think what
he sees is a blend of his apartment and things that aren't there, I think
he sees the jungle out the windows and hears machine gun fire and
helicopters in the distance. He cannot tell the difference between real and
hallucinations and he gets very motivated to do things that make no
sense. It's scary and I don't want to die like that, just shoot me when I
no longer know where I am or what year it is. He has no clue, except once
in a while he knows its 2019 and he's in Morocco, then it goes away. It's
like he's stuck in a nightmare. He knows something is wrong but he sort of
surrenders to it."

"When he tries to go outside after dinner because of the machine guns I try
to get him into the bathroom and we stand at the mirror and I ask him what
year it is, then I make him explain how he looks old at age 18. Then I tell
him its 2019 and the war ended 50 years ago, there are no machine gun
noises outside. That one works the best lately."

I thought about asking how he ended up in Tangier when he was from Spain
but I decided to let the subject drop. I think it might be due to his
military service. Luis said that they cannot have any shows on the TV with
gun fire or explosion sounds after 3pm or it triggers his hallucinations.



I ordered us refills and paid and while the bartender was tapping our beers
I started to regret that I asked about his grandfather's dementia, but
that's autism. It seemed like a good idea at the time, I was innocently
curious.

Luis told me one time when his grandfather said he heard automatic gun fire
outside I reminded him, "Grandfather, what's my name?" "Luis Rodriguez, my
youngest grandson." "I was born 24 years after the Vietnam War ended. How
can Vietnam be going on if I'm alive?" He explained how that snapped him
out of it but it also made him mad, like everyone was making fun of
him. Luis got him seated on the sofa and sat next to him and pulled his arm
over his shoulders and they sat there watching game shows on TV until
dinner time. But it only worked that one time. Luis said the weird thing
about his type of dementia is his grandfather gets super motivated to do
odd stuff, which is what makes him dangerous because if someone tells him
no he sometimes gets really mad. `My Mom had to install a bell on the
hallway door in case he tries to leave to rejoin his unit on patrol.'

I told Luis that was a beautiful story and "I honestly believe that people
who care for the elderly with dementia get a special reward in heaven for
such acts of generosity and compassion." Luis was briefly brought to tears
and we had a few moments of quiet. I watched his hands on his beer glass
for a time, and then we started talking again. I wanted to see if he got
emotional inside and it made his hands tremble while on the outside he
tried to act calm and cool.

Next, we discussed the twink party and how we got invited. I said, "The
dude who invited me is somewhere in southwest Morocco doing research for
his master's thesis. Luis told me he watched the blow job I did on the pool
steps and it was the hottest show he's seen in his life, he said he was
hard and dripping the entire time. I laughed at the thought because I had
no idea I had that much impact on others. So I asked, "Do you think other
guys liked our show?"

"Yes much! I saw lots of boners around the pool that afternoon! I bet if
you had stood up and looked around the pool deck you would have seen over a
dozen boners with strings of pre-come dangling off the end because of your
performance!" Luis said my show had him hypnotized and he could not stop
watching.

Then he said that if you were an Arabic gay twink you probably didn't watch
much porn on your cell because it's against the law, so for most of them it
was something they never saw before (but heard about), and it was a live
performance only twenty feet away.

I told him I was mentally engrossed in what I was doing, I never really
thought about anything except Patrik's dick. I wanted everyone to see me
swallow his load.

Luis suddenly changed the subject by asking where I grew-up so I used the
map app on his cell to show the USA and I zoomed in on southern Texas and
pointed to the southwest side of Houston. We leaned over until our
shoulders touched so we could both see the small screen together, which was
kind of nice leaning into each other.

He showed me where he grew up in a part of northern Madrid that sort of
looked like more suburban sprawl, so I had him show me his high school and
where he's going to college for his masters in aeronautics. His school was
near one of the older airports around Madrid, probably a vocational school.

The way he reacted to my home in a distant city in a distant state inside
the USA was like I was pointing out one specific crater on the moon. He was
amazed that it was so far away (5000+miles), but here I was so far from
home and seemed very healthy and happy. I wanted to say something like
`It's not like I had to walk to Europe, they got airplanes now!'

We kidded each other and since Luis was in college working toward his
aeronautics degree he challenged me by asking if I knew when jet passenger
service came into being and I told him I thought it was the early 1950s,
started by BOAC with the Comet 4-engine jet airliner, and how three of them
crashed due to sudden-violent decompression caused by metal fatigue. "The
Comet is the reason why there are no square corner windows on high altitude
aircraft. He said, "They all have rounded corners now. I wrote a paper on
it last year, Flight 783 northwest of Calcutta India on May 2nd 1953. They
flew into a thunderstorm and the plane suddenly broke-up due to metal
fatigue." I told him about a famous industrial accident that happened near
where I went to high school and I showed him the exact spot on his map app
on his cell.

"There was a famous accident in my home town about 40 years ago that lots
of Americans heard of, but nobody outside the USA knew about it. Part of
what made it famous was someone was video recording when it happened."

"There was a huge TV broadcast tower (1,800ft/554m tall) being put up near
my high school, it was going to be one of the tallest towers in North
America when it was done. But while they were lifting one of the antennas
up the side of the tower a bolt broke and the antenna fell to the ground,
slicing tower guy wires as it fell. All the workers were killed (Senior
Road tower collapse, Dec, 1982)." He was familiar with the name Texas but
couldn't point to it on a map, now he knows. I know one of our next
meetings I am going to have to discuss autism with him because it becomes a
factor in all my relationships. It gives new friends the chance to walk
away guilt-free, not everyone has the temperament or desire to deal with
autistics. Our tendencies bother some people more than others.



We talked about airplanes briefly. Since I grew up in the USA I learned
about the Wright Brothers as the inventers of airplanes, but he said that
was not true. Several wealthy men in France (Santos Dumont was the most
well known) were well ahead of the Wrights and they were also experimenting
with hot air balloons, lighter than air-ships, and gliders way before the
Wrights demonstrated the Wright Flyer to the U.S. Army. He said people in
many European countries were working on powered flight, people we never
heard about. They were all wealthy eccentric old guys doing it as a
hobby. He said the Wrights invented a type of wing warping but not powered
flight itself. It was a group of men all around the globe all working on it
about the same time, like a race. Powered flight became possible due to the
invention of the gasoline engine, which also made the car possible. The
Chinese claim to have put humans in the air under a hot air balloon over
two thousand years earlier, as military observers.

The invention of the airplane was like the invention of the light bulb. It
was actually a long list of discoveries and patents that came together to
create a working form of powered aircraft. The airplane, like the light
bulb was made from dozens and dozens of different patents. The person who
claims to have invented the light bulb or the airplane purchased the rights
to use the inventions of other people to create a better working
prototype. The light bulb we know today was dozens of individual
discoveries and inventions coming together in the hands of an investor with
the money to make progress, same with the all the inventors of the
airplane. Luckily many airplane researchers did not patent their
discoveries which pushed the science much faster than it did with the light
bulb. That is why the science of flight today is much further advanced than
light bulbs.

So I asked him if he came at the party and he said he wanked with three
guys watching but mostly he walked around naked a few times to show off his
body because of how he's shaped. He never even mentioned his big flat
nipples, but I knew that was part of his female appearance (femboy)
thing. He looks like a young school girl from a distance when he's naked if
you don't notice he's rather tall or his dick and balls. Luis told me he
liked to do erotic dances by candle light.

"Did you see anyone else come near the time Patrik came?" I asked.

"Yes, I think it was three just after you swallowed. I heard their semen go
splat on the pool deck."

"I seem to recall you have big round tits, right?" I bluntly asked as we
sat on stools at the bar and kind of spoke softly to each other while
holding our beer glasses. We were about the only people in the bar not
smoking something and the place reeked of burning pot. He laughed and
looked me in the eyes and shrugged his shoulders and nodded yes. I glanced
down at his chest but there was nothing to see. If he had asked me I would
have given me a quick peek at mine.

I've known several guys like Luis in my life, they are femboys who are very
skinny and have long dicks and large flat round nipples, like the size of a
drink coaster at the bar, and they all seem reluctant to show them off,
like they were embarrassed. I think he heard from a lot of people,
especially women who felt he should keep them hidden forever.

The bar tender placed a sheet of paper by us, it looked like a menu but
listed all sorts of THC candies they sold, but they did not allow smoking
pot in the cafe, but you could eat THC candies. Somehow the cafe always
smelled like burning weed while we were there. Maybe it was people just
outside the door or the windows passing around a joint.

When we finished our beers I asked if he wanted to take a walk outside to
escape all the smoke and he spun around and slid off the bar stool and we
walked out the door. By the time we left the bar was packed and loud and
very smoky. They had a soccer game (Atlas Lions versus the Pharaohs) on the
TV which was getting everyone spun-up. Luckily, Luis understood what I
meant when I said Soccer instead of Football. Which name came first, was it
soccer or football? In Arabic Soccer sounds like they are saying: kurit
awl-kah-dah-me. When I checked the translation I used soccer, but I wonder
if I should have used football instead.

We walked outside and started walking in the direction of the main
east-west boulevard, but he never asked where we were going. We kept
talking and walking as the sun went down and the stars came out and finally
we crossed the boulevard and sat down on a bus-stop bench. I had a wad of
Euros in my pocket so when the bus rolled up I gestured for him to follow
and I paid for two transfers and we took seats and the bus took off towards
my side of Tangier. I bought us all-day bus tickets, they expired in 23
hours. We didn't talk much on the bus but we sat side by side with our
shoulders touching. If we'd been in a bus in Houston I might have held his
hand.

It took 36 minutes to make it to my stop, after the bus left we sprinted
across the wide boulevard and he laughed that my apartment building had a
KFC on the first floor. We stood silently by the elevator door then got in
and rode to the 9th floor and down the hallway and I unlocked the door,
Luis silently walked to my living room window. My window has a great view
of the walled city and you can see across the strait and the lights from
Spain. When I came out of the bathroom he turned and smiled and told me he
loved the view. I walked up beside him and Luis spun around and quickly
used the toilet too but left the door open, he flushed and washed his hands
and rejoined me at the window. I've seen this view daily for almost two
years now; I would have rather watched him piss than the city lights and
the very dark beach down below.

While we were standing side by side looking out the windows he asked what
the box was stuck to the glass and I told him it was a weather station that
links to my computer over Bluetooth. It was recording temperature and
barometric pressure every fifteen minutes. He gave me a raised-eyebrow look
which I think means he didn't care to hear about it.

We stood there and talked for a while then I went across the room and
turned on my small radio to a Spanish country music network station and he
said he listened to it at home too. Finally the view got boring and I
invited him to join me on the sofa. I sat against one end after taking off
my shoes and socks, he did the same. Then I pulled a bed sheet over our
legs and we were in the same position that Dan and I used often. When he
tried to straighten his legs and get comfortable I grabbed one of his legs
and moved his foot between my legs to rest the bottom of his foot directly
on my dick. He left my feet on either side of his hips.

I'm 36 years old now and in all those years anyone I sat facing on the sofa
and had my foot resting on their dick always ended with his dick in my
mouth. It requires both guys to sit with legs spread wide while trusting
each other not to cause injury and he can rub your dick with his foot or
hold perfectly still. I guess for most guys touching dick with feet doesn't
count, but it certainly breaks the ice. We talked about general things
including Tangier and Madrid, his classes, and the economy.

The apartment was dark except for what came in from the street lights
outside and it was cool, maybe 61 degrees and dropping. After about ten
minutes Luis picked up one of my legs and set my foot between his thighs
too and positioned the bottom of my foot directly against his dick too. But
not too long after that I had to piss and while I was up I asked if he
wanted a beer and Luis said "Si Senior!" After I flushed I got him a bottle
and a glass and removed the cap. He said we should share it (as in both of
us drinking from one bottle). He grabbed the bottle and guzzled part of
it. So I took a swallow then handed it back to him and he did the same and
set the bottle on the coffee table.

As I got ready to sit back down on the sofa I tossed the sheet over the
backrest and sat down, he bent his knees to make room and parked his feet
beside my hips again so I moved one of his feet back between my legs, then
I straightened my legs and he did the same with one of mine. A few moments
later he moved his foot like he was rubbing my crotch, so I used my foot to
pet his like it was the head of a dog. For a while I rubbed his foot like a
massage then pressed back against me so he could feel my erection.

Luis leaned forward and pulled off his t-shirt. His t-shirt had some kind
of band logo I never saw before and couldn't really read, I think it was
Portuguese. But once his shirt cleared his body I saw them, his two dark
reddish-brown round flat nipples, nearly three inches across. He had like
no muscles on his chest and was shaped like a 5th grade school girl and was
perfectly hairless, like me. My dick immediately responded. Even his arm
pits were hairless. He almost acted like he's embarrassed by his chest when
he pulled his shirt off. His cheeks even blushed a little, which looked
cute on him. Holy shit was that hot watching him pull his shirt off, then
the big reveal. Wow!

I told him he had beautiful tits and he said he hated `em, he constantly
got in trouble being shirtless in public, so he can't do it in Tangier
because of the modesty police. He said other guys with tiny red dots for
tits hate him, and women make comments that he shouldn't walk around
shirtless in public. Luis said he liked it when people stared at his chest
in the locker room at the gym. But he said it felt so nice not having a
shirt on, he thought I wouldn't be offended. I chuckled at his comment.

His belly button was a vertical oval hole and it went inward and his belly
looked exactly like a girl's. He was hairless and super sexy. His body had
a soft rounded appearance. I could feel wetness in my underwear. I wanted
to make my clothes instantly disappear, but that only happens in the movies
or TV shows like I Dream of Jeannie. I reached up and unbuttoned my shirt
all the way down and spread it wide open. He watched closely.

I wanted to ask him about his hair, how much time he spent on it daily, but
I was struggling inside with what I wanted to say. So finally I got down to
business and simply asked him if I could suck his dick and he laughed and
said of course, like it was silly to even ask. `You're wasting time dude,
we ain't got all night!' I assumed he needed to get back before his Abuelo
woke up around 4am when the drugs wore off.

So I stood up and pulled off my shirt and jeans but kept my boxers on with
the wet spot. I stood by the sofa and pointed to the spot and he laughed as
he got to his feet and pulled off his jeans and shorts and sat back down
(naked) with his erect dick proudly pointing at the ceiling.

I was a little anxious because this was going to be the first un-cut dick
in my mouth. I got between his knees and lowered my face to his crotch and
kissed the side of his dick and sniffed it several times but I detected no
odor other than the same type of scent every human has in their crotch. He
had his own unique scent, just like me and everyone else. And his penis
head did not look slimy wet either. I retracted his foreskin and ran my
hand all over his head and it felt clean and dry, not cheesy and slimy.

When I grabbed the shaft his foreskin did not extend beyond the tip of his
head, it only partially covered his head, which was a dark red Darth Vader
helmet shape, nearly identical to mine. I think Luis had a bit of a
mushroom head too, meaning the head of his dick was visibly wider than the
shaft. There was something about mushroom heads that turned me on. And I
think the head is the most beautiful part, but not so much if it's hidden
under the foreskin.

I slid his foreskin down and put it to my mouth and touched it with my
tongue and it tasted fine so I took his head in my mouth and worked it with
great care and Luis instantly froze and deeply sighed. I hoped I wasn't
working him too hard. A couple times he flinched all his muscles like I
gave him a shock then told me I was fine, ignore his twitches. I got the
impression his dick was rather low mileage so I would need to use a less
intense technique on him.

At a whisper I asked, "Have you ever had a professional-grade blow job
before?"

Luis smiled and looked in my eyes then slightly nodded `no.' I whispered
that I would be gentle but it would still be intense.

My intuition told me I should tread lightly on his tender young erection,
but I wanted this one to be something he'd remember forever. I looked at
his shaft just inches from my face and decided it could be the longest dick
I ever swallowed. I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax and focus on
the task. Luis was leaned back on the sofa, his feet on the floor, I was
between his legs with his boner in my hands and both us were naked, except
I had underwear on. In this moment I had total control over him and had his
most secret body parts fully on display directly in front of me. We were
nearly at maximum intimacy. As part of my mental preparation for turning
off my gag reflex I closed my eyes and lowered my head to calm my
thoughts. When I did that I got poked by his head in the middle of my
forehead which made both of us flinch, then I instinctively whispered
"Sorry."

Once I got mentally calmed I got into position with my eyes closed I slowly
lowered my face again and started taking him inside my mouth. He gently
rested his hands on my shoulders at the same moment. I tried to become limp
and melt on his lap and he exhaled deep and long and he sort of tried to
relax his entire body, he tried to slink down a little deeper into the sofa
with his dick now far inside my mouth. For a short time we were joined in
bliss, he obviously never had someone take all seven inches of his dick in
their mouth before, never had real deep-throat before.

It took me a while to let it crawl further down my throat without gagging,
then I felt his lower belly touch the tip of my nose, then my lips came
into contact with his flesh around the base of his dick. I sighed and tried
to totally relax my body and he started gently rubbing my shoulders and the
sides of my skull. At that moment his boner was fully inside my head and my
face was against his lower baby soft belly. I even felt razor stubble on my
forehead and the tip of my nose.



His dick was about as thick as your average bratwurst and perfectly
straight, and it stuck out like a flag pole which made it perfect for
sucking. He shaved his dick and the base but not his balls, I think his
taint and crack were also somewhat furry but the rest of him was recently
shaved.

Both of us were completely relaxed then Luis whispered, `Oh man, that feels
so good, I'm coming.' I thought that was odd because I wasn't moving at all
but the head of his dick was way down my throat, on some guys that is such
a strong sensation they'll orgasm without any movement. About the only
difference between deep throat and tight pussy is the temperature, pussy is
warmer, but mouth has a movable tongue.

I put my hands on his belly and tried to stay focused. Luis started to moan
deeply and wiggled a little, and then he stroked my hair with his
fingertips. I slid my hands up his sides and gently rubbed my thumbs across
his very wide areolas (pronounced: ah REE lah). About two minutes later I
felt twitches in his groin then he started coming, but it all went down my
throat like a non-stop flight. I never tasted him but I felt the
squirts. He groaned when his orgasm started and tried to hump my mouth a
little but I just stayed perfectly limp on his lap, then it was over and he
re-started combing my hair with his fingertips, so I very slowly started to
pull off. He begged me to move slowly because his dick was extremely
tender. I paused for about one minute to let him calm down then slowly
started to back my mouth off his erection.

When his head cleared my lips he had a long silvery thin string stretched
between his pee hole and my lower lip, we both stared at it but he reached
down and broke it. Then I Iooked up and saw he had a pained expression on
his face that quickly switched to happy. He slid his fingers around my face
and whispered that was beyond great, it was the first deep throat blow job
he ever had, he didn't even think anyone could take all seven inches down
the throat. And I swallowed all his come, which was also amazing. He swore
it was the best oral sex he's had in his life. He even had tears running
down his cheeks into his front side! He actually got emotional saying it.

I sat up on my knees on the floor between his thighs and leaned down and
lifted his dick and kissed the head and gently licked it several times (his
semen was bland but salty, like mine) and he watched closely and smiled. I
slid my hand up over his tummy and rubbed all over his belly button but
since I didn't know him I never pushed a finger inside, then I moved my
hand to his chest and slid my fingers around and around on his very large
flat areolas and the tiny lump in the middle. He took in a deep breath as I
felt his silky skin and let it out while watching my hands.

I reached over and grabbed the beer bottle and took a large swallow then
whispered, "Can I suck your tits?" Luis raised his legs, spun sideways, and
stretched out on the sofa so he was flat on his back and gestured for me to
come to him, so I gently slid on top and lowered my face to his chest and
with my lips pressed wide apart I gently latched-on his tit and slightly
sucked it in my mouth while he hugged my head and upper body to his like I
was a baby drinking his milk. I was careful not to suck too hard so I
didn't give him a bruise but I stayed on his tit for probably 15 minutes
and rubbed the other one with the other hand and finally let go of his big
tit. My dick was still fully erect and had a long string of pre-come with
the other end stuck to his leg.

Luis has wider areolas than probably a quarter of the women in the world,
he hates that but they're definitely an added benefit, just like Dan's
chest. He really has a flat chest and I guess he's probably shaped nearly
the same as he was when he started puberty at age 12. I bet he will never
join a gym and start lifting weights to maintain his Femboy appearance.

He got off the sofa and moved me into his position and got between my legs
and blew me while working my dick with one hand and kept my head in his
mouth and I think I lasted about two minutes and warned him. He pulled off
and finished me by hand and I spurted across my stomach and chest, we both
were amazed by how much fluid came out. I groaned a bit louder than him
when it started until the last squirt. After it was done my body had
several `aftershocks' that made him pull back like I was having a
seizure. He said he never saw that before. I told him when I had a strong
orgasm my body had aftershocks. I lay on the sofa briefly with a lot of
semen splattered across my stomach and chest, maybe a few drops on my arms
and neck too.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked at a whisper and he replied, "Yes please."

Luis offered me his hand and pulled me up to standing and stepped into me,
I closed my eyes, and we full French kissed for a couple minutes, his
kissing style was wonderful. And during that time I slid my hands all over
his back side, including his crack. I tried to play with is hair, it was
very thick and almost felt too wonderful to be real, but his coal black
hair was thick and natural. I pulled back off his mouth and whispered that
`...most women pray for hair like yours.'

"Uh that's not true, they pray for thick long hair but not shiny black like
the feathers of a Crow, they want thick blonde hair. Nobody likes my hair
but gay men." I laughed at his answer but perhaps it was true. Either way
it was thick and wonderful and I loved feeling it. Then I pulled him back
into me and pulled the side of his head into my face and deeply inhaled
with my nose in his hair, he smelled of flowery shampoo. I thought to
myself this boy must spend a lot of time trying to look pretty. I was kind
of surprised his fingernails weren't painted too. And the fact that his
body was perfectly natural was wonderful, no tats, no piercings except tiny
diamonds on his ears.

Assuming he had to pee as much as me I got up off the sofa and offered him
a hand and we went to the bathroom, he pissed while I turned on the shower
and set the knobs and got out a second towel. He stood in back and I took
the front position. I assumed he did not want to wet his hair since it took
a while to dry and style. I washed the smears of semen off our bodies, I
also hand soaped and washed his dick and balls and turned him around and
carefully hand washed between his shapely butt cheeks, he really was shaped
like a girl, nice and smooth and round except for a rather large dick and
balls in front. After Luis I did myself, and while I was doing that he got
out of the shower and dried off. I was about one minute behind him.

After showers we went back to the window but he closed it because it was
downright cold outside and smelled like it might rain soon. While he stood
facing the windows I stood behind him with my face against his back and ran
my hands up and down his body and with one finger I closely circled his
belly button and nearly pressed inside it but stopped short, my other hand
was gently rubbing his left nipple and Luis softly said he should get back
to his grandfather soon. I turned and looked at the clock it was 11:53pm.

I whispered that we should get dressed quickly, a bus would soon be
here. Within two minutes we were exiting the elevator outside the closed
KFC restaurant, then outside to the bus stop. A mile down the road to the
east I saw the roof lights of a bus, one always went by here around
midnight. We sat there on the bench in the dark as rain started to fall but
our bus stop had a roof, we pulled our feet back and two minutes later the
bus came to a stop and we got on board, I used our transfers. (Transfer is
an American name for a mass transit ticket good multiple rides).

We sat down in back and tried to talk. There were only two other passengers
on the bus, one looked like a plain clothes cop. We rode across town, I
pointed to the area where my office was but he never asked what I did. The
place where his grandfather lived was only like five miles west of my
office. When I told him I thought he'd at least say something like `I
thought you were a pilot?' Or at least he should ask if I was Private Pilot
rated what was I doing flying a private jet with a passenger?

We rode almost to the airport and got off near the cafe and started walking
north. I wanted to hold his hand since it was dark out. Up ahead I saw the
cafe which was closed for the night. I bumped into him a few times just to
make contact and a couple times I reached over and gently patted his butt,
but he never said anything. Most people here are afraid of running into
modesty police so they won't do anything (even slightly gay) in
public. When we got to the cafe I gestured for him to follow me and we
walked around the parking lot to the back side of the building. Everything
was dark and quiet. I pulled him into me and we kissed again for maybe 15
seconds then pulled apart, I had my hands on his shoulders, he said `that
was nice.' We walked back to the sidewalk and kept going north toward the
apartment buildings. We passed a few of the buildings and came to the first
one near the sidewalk. Luis said `this is where Abuelo lives, I gotta go.'
He gestured to the high rise building directly in front of us. It had a
building name sign high on the wall but it was in Arabic. I think most of
them had numbers as names.

I thanked him for a wonderful evening, he said, "I had a great time too,
nice to see you again."

I said, "I hope we can do this again." And he said he had no idea what was
going to happen with his grandfather, and I told him I understood, then
repeated that I'd love to do it again and he smiled and said, `Yah, and
me.' Then Luis said I could probably visit him in Madrid too sometime. But
his biggest problem is school takes-up all his time, and when he gets a
four day weekend his family makes him take his turn staying with
Abuelo. They tell him he can bring his books down here and watch Grandpa
and catch up on his reading.

After an awkward hand shake we left in opposite directions, I got about ten
feet and stopped and told him if he ever wanted to come down he was welcome
to stay at my place, maybe get time away from school and family, he should
considered himself invited. All he has to do is fly down to Tangier and I'd
take care of the rest. He smiled and said thanks, he'd try to get away
sometime to visit again. I remember hearing people talk like that when I
was in college. When you're the student under the burden of 500lbs of
homework and 200lbs of time to study you get that attitude toward
invitations. It's sort of like how you feel when people give you a nice
book to read as a Christmas gift while you are in college drowning under
tons of homework.



The entire evening our conversation was in Spanish and he never once asked
if it was my primary language, so I guess I'm pretty good now, I've had a
lot of practice. Sometimes Dan and Jen and I talk in Spanish too. I think
Luis also spoke a few phases in Arabic, like enough to order a burger and a
beer.

On the bus ride home Luis texted me and said he's never orgasmed that hard
before, his nuts felt sore. I wonder if that was why he seemed unemotional
when we parted. I suspect Luis was rather sexually inexperienced, he's only
19 years old. I may have done too much too soon. But most guys will admit
that coming down a man's throat feels better than pussy. The only down side
I know of about fucking someone's mouth instead of a vagina is you can
usually bang a vagina pretty hard, but you really can't do that to
someone's mouth or you'll trigger a gag reflex.

You can miss a lot of pleasure when you hand-pump yourself to an
orgasm. Some guys say its better if you leave your dick perfectly alone
once the orgasm starts so you can actually feel it work. I think that was
part of Luis' problem. He'd never come hands-free before or knew it was
possible, and he was having prostate pain from working too hard. Maybe I
should have warned him. I got back home around 2am and went to bed, but it
took almost an hour until I fell asleep. I tried to wank in bed but I
couldn't get hard either.

I got to thinking about Luis and his long boner. I've asked guys with
foreskins if they jerk off with the skin extended or retracted and all of
them said with it extended. So they have a layer of flesh between their
head and their hand. When I jerk-off my palm is in direct contact with my
head. I wonder sometimes if that means that we skinless men need to be
gentler on skinned dicks because they have never really had direct contact
with flesh. I wonder what percentage of isolation the foreskin provides to
the penis head, how much tactile sense they lose because there is a layer
of flesh protecting the head? I have never heard someone with a foreskin
compare jerking with the skin extended versus retracted. How much
difference does it make? I suspect there is some difference but not a huge
amount. I'm not an expert because I have no way to compare before and
after. None of us get to choose anyway. When I was born nearly all newly
born boys were cut. It is something that the parents agree to during their
first pre-natal visit with the baby doc.

Have you ever seen a newborn infant get circumcised? The baby gets strapped
into something like a plastic car seat and that is what makes them cry,
most do not react to the actual procedure.



Contact the author by email: borischenaz mailfence