Date: Fri, 22 May 2015 00:14:19 -0400 From: Phillippe La Mer Subject: The Rock Chapter 5 Hello Nifty boys and girls! I hope you are enjoying this series. I know there's lots of exposition at the beginnning, but all large stories need that at first. I hope I'm keeping your attention. Summer is almost here to it's about time to strip down and get your all over tans, hopefully this will be a bit of beach reading :) Like most authors, I crave recognition. In our little online world, that means I crave email! Please send me your feedback, random thoughts, heartfelt pleas and other data to my inbox at: naturiste@safe-mail.net I would especially love to hear from folks who practice naturism. Cheers, Phillippe CHAPTER FIVE EARLY JULY 2015 PARIS Jean-Paul stared at his computer screen in horror. He was only thirteen! Sid had been messaging him, and to satisfy a nagging feeling in the back of his skull he had looked up Johnny Dûr on the tabloid pages, coming across a Paris Match article about the births of his two sons through surrogacy. He'd reckoned the date and added in his head. It couldn't be right. The boy had said he was 15. And that dick! Bigger than most men. Good god! He'd fallen hard for the teen, it was true. But he'd done more than put his job on the line. He'd put his freedom, something he was certainly not willing to gamble. He'd have to look elsewhere for his tricks. It was back to the twinks for him. No more jailbait. * * * AMSTERDAM AND AUSTIN Robbie Van der Meer grunted as his fist blurred up and down his achingly stiff teenage dick. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth, expertly aiming his purple tip clenched tightly in his fist. The cream shot out, landing across his lip and into his mouth as he thrust out his tongue. The second shot hit him in the chin and neck, and the third splattered up the runnel of his abdominal muscles. He opened his eyes and slid the fingers of his left hand along his smooth belly, scooping up the spunk and sweat and licking it off his fingers. On the screen of his iPad, Mike Davenport was fucking his brother Jessie, hard. He'd turned so that he was facing to the side, and Jessie was on his hands and knees on the bed. The fourteen year old Texan was deeply tanned on his upper body, pale white from waist to knees, and tan again along his calves, creating an effect that Robbie found cute and unusual to his European experience. As he watched, Mike took a deep breath, pulled his fat seventeen year old cock from his brother's creamy round ass, and shot a load across the younger boy's back. Then without hesitation, not to be outdone by his Dutch friend, he leaned over and started licking Jessie's back like an eager labrador retriever. The younger boy rolled over when he was done, reached down and grasped his hard, slim erection, gave himself about five hard tugs and shot his own watery load onto his belly, which Mike also licked up, causing Jessie to laugh and squirm from ticklishness. "Dude! Stop! I wanna talk with Robbie!" "Who said you could talk to my friend, punk? Your job is to be a little bottom bitch and take my big prick in silence" the older boy taunted, grabbing his cock and balls and swinging them brazenly in the young teen's face. Jessie reached out and playfully slapped his brother's dick away. "Knock it off! I've never talked to someone from a foreign country!" Jessie sat up on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to look at Robbie across the net. His brother slid next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, looking at the younger boy with a sense of pride. "See Robbie, I told you he was hot. Not as hot as your little bro, but pretty sexy anyways." "Shut up! Where's your bro Robbie?" "He's already to bed. It's very late here, 2300 hours?" "What's that, like military time?" "Yes, we say that. You say, um, elevens of clock." "11 o'clock. Cool. Well you're really hot and I'm glad I got to see you. Did you like it?" the younger boy asked, with a need of approval sneaking into his voice. "Yes, it was very hot. You are both very sexy. I came very hard. I like your funny tan Jessie." "What's funny about it?" "How it goes from your waist all the way to your knees. Most boys here, they go to swim in short suits, so they maybe just have a little white part around the hips. Yours is all the way to your knees." Jessie peered at the boy. Robbie was very naturally pale with his shock of white-blond bangs and bright blue eyes, but he was already lightly tanned. It was early in the summer but his family had already made a few weekend visits to a nearby naturist pool. "Dude, you don't have any tan line at all! Do you skinny dip?" "Skinny dip?" "You know, like swim naked?" "Oh, I always swim naked. I do not have much tan yet but I will go very brown later at the Rock. "Where?" "The Rock, that's where we go for summer vacation." Suddenly, Robbie grew introspective. He wasn't supposed to speak of the Rock, though the place itself was perfectly above board. But he was still cautious. "Wait a minute" Mike interjected. "Do you mean you don't have to wear clothes there? Is it a nudist colony?" "A colony? I don't know. It's a resort, a camping place with cabins. You don't need to wear clothes, and you are not allowed to wear clothes in the pool or on the beach. We say naturist, not nudist." The two American brothers looked at each other gleefully. "Wow!" Jessie exclaimed. "That must be awesome to just be able to go anywhere naked! I thought those places were just for, like, adults!" "No, it is for whole families. You have all ages of people. Old people, fathers and mothers, boys, girls, everything." "Girls? Naked? Awesome!" "Shut up Jessie. Like you'd even know what to do with one. So Robbie, how do you keep from, you know, popping a bone when you're there?" "This is not a problem. It is not sexual. I mean, yes, you see boys that are cute and girls, but it is like being with clothes on. I have done this since I was born, I do not think of it. If you get one anyway, you just lie on your belly or you cover in a towel." "Shit" Jessie's voice was now full of enthusiasm. "We need to tell dad to go there for vacation!" Mike gave his little brother a withering glance. He hadn't told Robbie about his dad yet. Only that he got it on with his brother. "Well, I dunno. But what was it called? The Rock?" "Um, yes. The Rock. Le Rocher, in French." Robbie hadn't ever even considered the possibility he'd meet the sexy American teen in real life, much less his little brother. He'd been raised with the safety rules ingrained into him from birth. You could mention the Rock, but only in its public guise as a respectable naturist resort. It was indeed occasionally used a regular first step towards recruiting new families, but always a step taken by the leadership. He was just a teenage boy, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he might have overstepped somehow. Still, as he thought of Mike and Jessie playing with him in the bedroom of his family's rustic wooden cabin under the pines, his dick started to grow again. "You must be thinking sexy thoughts" Jessie observed, his high boy's voice just starting to grow husky with puberty. "I'd love to go there, to fuck a girl on the beach at night. That would be so awesome." The fourteen year old's cock was growing now as well. That set his older brother to rise too. Time for another quick round. * * * PARIS Le Soleil bathhouse rose for four stories above the Boulevard de Sebastopol, a discreet building from the outside with blacked-out windows and a set of tall double doors. Inside, it was a steamy riot of colors and textures, done in the Indian style á Las Vegas. Potted palms, terra cotta pillars, and a long narrow swimming pool where Jean-Claude Pederson swam laps, nude. Everyone was nude and it was all men, but more specifically all men looking for sex, since it was a gay bathhouse. Jean-Paul would come occasionally, looking to pick up a twink. He had erased several WhatsApp messages from Sid, anxious every time the boy's profile came up. He needed a good barely legal fuck to get his mind off the forbidden fruit. Though the minimum age was 18, the club was rather loose with its door policy; the owner, a slick little man named Mahfouz, had a reputation as a chicken hawk. The police had taken a few hard looks at him but they'd never ben able to pin him to the board. After a good hard swim, Jean-Paul sat in the whirlpool, where he had to deflect the advances of several older men. He was quite a catch for most gay men, a handsome well-built man with a head of dirty blond short-cropped hair, a lean and smooth body, and a sizable cock swinging between his legs. But he knew how to deflect attention gracefully, and if that didn't work he knew how to break fingers, a skill he'd picked up as a street cop. After soaking until he started to prune, he wandered up the stairs, the marble cold against his bare feet, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, to check out the cruising area. A half empty dark video room was showing porn, a few guys tugging under their towels while watching a digital gangbang. He never understood those who preferred the fake to the immediately available real. He passed the entrance to the dark room, with no desire to be anonymously groped, and headed along the long, dim hallway lined with small cabines, little rooms that each contained a bed, a small screen showing porn, and a shelf of condoms and lube. From several of the open doorways, guys checked him out. A few were quite handsome, but not really the slim young type Jean-Paul was looking for. At the end of a hallway there was one door that was opened just a crack, and as Jean-Paul approached it swung open. To his shock, standing there, also in nothing but a towel, was the very clearly underage Sid Durant, smiling a very wicked grin with his full red lips. "Sid! How..." "Get in here and I'll tell you." The boy practically yanked him into the little room and shut the door, coming close and tiptoeing up to kiss him. "Stop. I don't understand. You're too young to be here. How did you even get in?" "They don't check that closely. I just tell them I'm 18." "Sid, I know the truth. You aren't even 15. I went online and looked it up. You're 13! I shouldn't even talk to you!" Jean-Paul made toward the door, but the boy put a hand firmly on his elbow. "Listen, it's cool. The owner lets me in here. He knows my dad. He thinks it's cool that Johnny Dur's kid comes in here. I've been lots of times" Sid lied. "That's not right. You shouldn't come here." "Why not? There's hot guys." "No. I mean you shouldn't even be having sex. You're 13! You're too young for it. You should wait until you're legal at least." "Tisk" the boy responded with a dismissive shrug. "Fuck that. I love fucking. I don't care about some stupid shit law. If I'm horny I'm going to cop off with whoever I want. No stupid copper can tell me otherwise. Besides, you know better. You know I love to fuck." "Well, that was a mistake. You lied to me. I never should have gone home with you." "A mistake? Why? You think I didn't enjoy it? It was hot. I got off, you got off, what's the problem? No one was hurt." "It's just... you're too young." "Fuck that. Who decided that? Because if you ask me, if my cock is hard it means I'm not too young to use it. Look at it, does that look like an unwilling dick?" Sid whipped off his towel and his long thin teen cock, entirely oversized for his slim frame, shot up at an angle. The boy reached down and casually flicked back his foreskin to reveal his tasty red head. "It's made for fucking, Jean-Paul. You know that. Screw the law. I've been messaging you for days because you make me hard like this. I need you." With that the boy moved against him aggressively and this time his lips connected, his long slippery tongue sliding into the man's mouth as his eager fingers rubbed Jean-Paul's cock through the course terry of the towel. Jean-Paul let him kiss him for a moment, but then pushed him gently back. "Did you follow me here?" Jean-Paul asked, knowing their meeting was unlikely to be a coincidence. "Follow you? I don't even know where you live. I don't know your last name. You know everything about me but I don't know anything about you" the boy lied, convincingly. Truthfully he hadn't followed Jean-Paul. René Renaud, the Rock's plant in the IT department of the Police Judiciare had been the one to follow Agent Pederson, calling Sid's dad when he had seen him go into the bathhouse, knowing the Johnny knew everyone seedy in the Marais. Johnny had made a call and the bathhouse owner had met Sid at the alley door, sneaking him up the back stairs and into an open cabine, no questions asked. It was hardly the most shocking thing he'd ever done for Johnny Dûr, who paid well and kept his lowlife friends happy. Jean-Paul regarded the cute boy, his cheeks entirely smooth, his slim body nicely toned, His thick brown hair hanging in his eyes, his large dark nipples a bit puffy with puberty, and felt his cock started to rise. Seeing the towel's movement, Sid reached out and grasped the hardening rod through the flap and pulled the man's appendage out into the open, then fell to his knees. He looked up coyly at the man, licked his ruby lips, and sucked down the hefty bone like a ten dollar hooker. The soft blueish light meant that Sid's face went in and out of shadow as he bobbed back and forth, his tongue slithering up and down Jean-Paul's shaft like an eel. While he grasped the cop's balls in one hand, with the other he reached down and started to stroke his own hard on, which rose eagerly from the smooth, almost hairless vee of skin and muscle that dived down between his shiny smooth thighs. The boy was right, he was built for sex, no matter what the law may say. Sid was bobbing fast on Jean-Paul's unit, sucking him deep with a motion that made the lad's slim, graceful throat bulge like he was swallowing an egg. He was a head-giving pro, and Jean-Paul could feel his balls churn. As if he could expertly read the signs, the boy withdrew the stiff flesh from his mouth and leaned back, lazily jerking the man with one hand while he wiped his lips with the back of his other hand. He looked up and flashed that wicked teen smile, then climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, arching his back and thrusting up his ass. "I'm already lubed" the boy growled in an adorable puppy dog rumble. "Put it in now" he demanded. Jean-Paul's bone leapt once and he grabbed it tight, climbing up behind the boy. Sid's ass was even whiter against his tan in the low light of the sex room, and he ran one hand over each cheek. They were as smooth as marble and as firm as a football. With his palms he pushed the cheeks apart and brought up his cock, moving the head up from just behind Sid's balls to find his opening. He felt the heat coming off the boy's tight, muscular hole, and his helmet slotted into the spongy little ring, then he gave a slight push as he felt the wetness of the lube. Without another hesitation, the man flexed his hips and popped into the much younger male. Sid let out a gasp of pleasure and wiggled his ass to feel the cock inside himself. Jean-Paul was starting to enjoy the fucking. Sid's ass was tight and warm and he was running his hands down the boy's firm, warm, smooth back and grasping his exceedingly narrow waist. The boy was sex on legs, his beautiful white butt bouncing as he flexed his hips with practiced precision, milking the man's cock with each thrust. Jean-Paul closed his eyes and was lost in the fog of pheromones, the suspended dream-state of sex. As he thrust, he realized that Sid's sexy grunting had given way to slurping, and he opened his eyes. If you didn't lock the door, men at the bathhouse would sometimes slide into the sex rooms uninvited to try and join in on the action, and Jean-Paul wasn't entirely surprised to see that a man had done just this, entering silently and offering his cock up for Sid to greedily suck. The boy really was a whore, going hard at the stranger's long stiff member, but given his age this situation would not do. He was about to tell the man, a well built guy in his 40s with a hard, lean body covered in tattoos, to get lost — then the man leaned forward, his face coming into the light. Jean-Paul was looking into the eyes of France's legendary punk rocker and sexual revolutionary, Johnny Dûr. "I see you've met my son Sid, Agent Pederson. I can tell he likes you." A panic seized Jean-Paul, his muscles tensed, his heart exploded, fear clouded his vision, and with a garbled moan he came, so hard, harder than he ever had, unloading spray after spray of juice into the boy's hot clenched ass. His balls emptied like an elephant stepping on a ketchup packet. "Uhnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! Fuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccckkkkk!!!!!" "Let's talk." * * * Two floors above, the bathhouse owner Mafhouz was jerking off frantically as he watched the video from the three hidden cameras he'd installed in that particular cabine. Watching the fit young policeman fuck the 13 year old boy while he sucked off his famous rock star dad was the hottest thing he'd seen in a long time. He'd promised Johnny Dûr the video, but he knew already he'd keep a copy for his private collection.