This story involves a sexual liaison between a twelve-year-old boy and an adult, so the usual stuff applies. If you are underage, etc, then please leave now.
Any characters portrayed in this story are not representative of anyone living or dead.
ALL rights reserved. This documents is Copywrite © 2010 and may not be reproduced in part or full, in any form without the author's written consent. Nifty.org have permission to reproduce it on their website.
All correspondence to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com
Other stories by John. T. S. Teller.
Enjoy your read.
The first taste of honey.
The Moroccan sun is hot, and I have to waft my fan to create a gentle breeze as I'm sitting at the table, drinking coffee with Peter. I prefer it to mint tea, although I do like the mint tea. I look at Peter. He's my age; thirty-five, and whereas I'm a fit person who enjoys keeping my six-foot frame in shape with regular exercise, he's on the tubby side. He has blond hair, and I have brown; he has blue eyes, and I have green ones. The three things we have in common are that we both work in the Foreign Office, and we are both lovers of boys, and we both spend our vacations in Morocco where there is always a selection of young boys to be found; if one knows where to go, that is...but we are old hands at this.
I look at my Rolex. Just four in the afternoon. They will be here soon. It's how it works here. We don't choose the boys; they choose us. I can see them now, gathering by the harbour wall, selecting their lovers. The system works well. They will select a client, and the client can either accept or decline the offer. No offence is meant or taken if a client refuses. It's the way it works. The boy will simply retire to the harbour wall to select his second choice, or third choice, depending on how handsome and how desirable he is.
The boy I had yesterday is by the wall, and he looks at me. I know he won't come to me because I told him not to. It's not that he's not handsome, or good; I've had him for three days, and I want a change.
I take another sip at my coffee, and watch a boy approaching. He's either thirteen or a young looking fourteen. Just the age I like, and he's really handsome, and I've never seen him before, which is unusual. There are about a dozen of us outside the café, and he could be heading towards any of us. When he comes directly to me, I'm really pleased.
He looks me in the eyes. "You want boy?"
I nod, and get up. Peter gives me a look that tells me he's jealous, so I just give him a wink, and walk away with the boy. We have a game, Peter and I. Whoever is last at the table, picks up the tab. Only once on this vacation have I had to pay.
The boy has a smile on his face as he looks up at me as we saunter along the harbour. "What your name?"
Most of the boys don't bother asking because we're all `John Smith'. This time, because there's a certain something about this boy, I decide to tell him my real name. "It's David. What is your name?"
"Ahmed."
"You're very beautiful, Ahmed, and you speak English, which is good."
"My father and grandfather speak English fluently, and I study English, too."
"You speak it very well. How old are you?"
He grins. "Sixteen?"
I laugh. "Don't worry, Ahmed. I have connections. You can tell me your real age. Shall I guess?"
He laughs with me. "No, I'm twelve. Is that old enough for you?"
I look into the liquid dark amber eyes that are sparkling at me. My God! He is beautiful. "Yes. In your case it is. You're too beautiful to refuse. Have you done this before?"
"Yes, but only when I want to. I don't need to work. My father is a merchant. We have money."
His answer intrigues me. "Then why do you do it?"
His eyes narrow, and there's a devilment in them. "Because I like it, but only with those I choose. If you had not been there, I would have left."
I'm puzzled. "Explain."
"I watch you for three days. You went with Hasan for three days. He told me that you are kind and gentle, so I make my mind up to have you, if you have me."
I put my hand on his shoulder, and the softness of him stirs my loins. I know that if he's like the other boys, he will be wearing nothing under his white gandora, which is embroidered in greens and blues around the neckline, and the short sleeves reveal slim forearms. I smile at him. "It will be my honour to have you, Ahmed. You're the most beautiful boy I have seen for many years."
Ahmed laughs. "I bet you say that to all the boys."
I give him a pretend hurt look. "No! I mean it. You are really beautiful!" Actually, I did mean it, because he was.
"Thank you. Do we go to your place?"
I nod. "If you wish to? How long have I got with you?"
Again Ahmed gives me that devilish look. "We will see."
The place I rent when I'm here is a small two-bedroomed villa, painted in the traditional ochre colours of Morocco, and it has a small swimming pool. The beauty of the place is that it's detached and secluded, and surrounded by trees and shrubs that hide it from prying eyes, which is important when you've got naked boys romping around the place. It takes us about thirty minutes to walk to it, and when we arrive, I unlock the gates and take Ahmed into the house. He wastes no time opening the blinds and unlocking the doors to the patio, which lead to the swimming pool. And then he turns to me with a grin on his face.
"Can I swim?"
I laugh at his forwardness. "Sure, be my guest."
I was right, he was wearing nothing under his gandora, because as he expertly takes it off, he stands with his back to me, looking at the pool, and I'm stunned by the beauty of his naked back. His form is perfection, and the two globes of his butt are akin to a peach. He takes a quick glance behind him, and then walks down the steps and plunges into the pool. When he surfaces, his jet black hair is slicked back, and the smile on his face is wonderful and wide, and his teeth are a lovely white, and even. He waves to me.
"Are you swimming too? Come on in, David."
I don't need two invitations, and I strip and dive naked into the pool. When I surface, he swims to me and wraps his legs around my body and his arms around my neck, and stares into my eyes.
"You have a lovely body, David. It excites me."
I stare back at him, and then wink. "So do you." I'm holding him to my body by grasping the superb pair of soft buttocks, and I press him to me to emphasise the contact of his already erect, small penis. "And I can tell you are. I can't wait to kiss the part that is excited."
Ahmed laughs. "You like sucking boys' cocks, do you?"
I nod and grin. "What about you? Do you like sucking mens' cocks?"
"Oh, yes. And more!"
Now I laugh. "You're getting me excited. I think I need to take you to the bedroom."
Ahmed gives me a cheeky grin and flings himself back into the pool. "When you catch me, you can."
We spend the next couple of minutes laughing and playing in the pool, and then Ahmed comes into my arms again. His face becomes serious, and his small lips open and he kisses me. His tongue enters my mouth and we play tongue games while he humps away at my belly, and I'm thinking I've got one hell of a randy kid here. I slip my fingers between the open buns and feel at the hole I want to fuck, and I can tell he's not a virgin by any means. Sometimes, that is a bit of a turn-off for me, but for some strange reason, I find it sexually stimulating with this boy. The thought that he's experienced at his tender age is intriguing, especially given his earlier words when I'd asked if he'd done this before, and he'd replied - Yes, but only when I want to.
Ahmed has already dried himself and is lying on my full-size bed. The pure white sheets emphasise the colour of his hairless body as he lies with his hands under his head and his small cock erect, waiting for me. I finish drying myself and comb my hair.
I look at him. "Do we need a condom?"
He smiles cheekily. "Of course. Maybe two or three?"
I grin back at him and take a full pack out of the drawer and throw them on the bed, and then find the KY and some scented wipes and throw them to him, too, and then I lie on the bed beside him and begin to examine and stroke the beautiful creature. When I've felt at and kissed everything there is on his front, he turns over and allows me to do the same to his back, and when I get to his butt, he draws his knees up to let me examine the perfect boy pussy. It's irresistible, as clean as a whistle, and soon I'm sucking and tonguing it as hard as I can. He reaches behind him and pulls his buns wider to allow me even deeper access, and moans when my tongue is buried deep inside him. I reach for the KY, but his hand grabs mine and stops me.
"More tongue, David."
I'm thinking the tables have been turned somehow and he should be paying me, but I go back to what I was doing, and when I grope between his legs and begin to stroke the small four-inch boy cock at the same time as my tongue is working overtime, I feel him shudder and climax, and then he collapses onto the bed.
He's smiling as I lie beside him and rub my erect cock on his own still erect one. He reaches down and pushes my hand away, and with his small hand wrapped around my throbbing cock, does it himself. This is a part of boysex I like, and as I watch him rubbing our two cocks together, I can feel my own climax building. But this boy is good...he knows exactly when to stop.
He pushes me onto my back, takes out a condom, and fits it like an expert. Then he covers it in KY, and I know what is about to happen.
I watch him while he lowers himself onto me, and each inch of what I am disappears into the tunnel of love. Right down he goes without even a grimace, and when he bottoms out onto my pubic hairs, I know this boy is more experienced than most, which is really surprising given his young age. And then he begins to work his magic.
This boy is like a fucking machine with perfect control over the insides of his gorgeous ass. There's hardly any visible movement, except for a rippling of his stomach muscles as he begins to masturbate me with his ass. I can feel it sucking on the end of me like a milking machine, and then he begins to vibrate. Yes, fucking vibrate! And all the time this is going on, he's smiling at me, and he doesn't stop smiling when I begin to jerk and shoot my entire load deep into him with a passion, and it makes it even better when his smile is accompanied by a quivering jaw and I know he's cum with me.
Breathless, I collapse back onto the bead and stumble out the words, "Where the Hell did you learn to fuck like that, Ahmed? I've never known a boy who could milk me like a fucking cow."
Ahmed laughs. "My civilization is far older than yours. We have secrets you couldn't dream of, and my grandfather is a master of sex."
"Your grandfather! Don't tell me it was your grandfather who taught you how to do that?"
The smile is teasing me now. "Amongst others. We have a duty to serve our men until they are old enough to marry. Our women are sacred, as you probably know, so the men have to have some fun, and it's best if we boys at least learn how to enjoy it."
"And you enjoy it?"
"Oh yes, I enjoy it, and I take great pride in satisfying my lovers. But I'm not a whore. I choose who will have the privilege."
"Why did you choose me?"
"Because you are attractive, and I knew you would be worthy. Would you like some more?"
I'm thinking this is my birthday. Here I am, lying on the bed with a fabulously attractive, hairless boy sitting on my cock and he is asking me if I want more of his trembling ass. I'd have to be a Saint to refuse, and I nod.
He slips off me, removes that full condom, cleans me up with scented wipes, fits another condom, and takes my cock in his sexy mouth. I was sort of disappointed when he first did it because I wanted the milking machine, but once he started sucking me, I just knew I was into another cocksucking world. It wasn't just his mouth doing the stuff, his fingers were playing with parts of me that I didn't know existed. They fiddled with my perineum and his finger nails made it into an extension of my cock. And all the time this was going on, his fabulous, smiling eyes were staring into mine to see what affect his mission was having. I reckon it was my tongue lolling out of the corner of my mouth that gave him an idea that he was doing fine, and the loud moans and sharp intakes of breath that confirmed it, and when he deep throated me and I watched, fascinated, as almost the entire seven inches disappeared, I couldn't hold out any longer and I almost cried with the ecstasy of it all as I spurted again, and Ahmed made it last twice as long as normal by manipulating his fingers in the parts I couldn't reach. And when it was over, he came and lay by my side and gave me a wicked smile.
"That was good too?"
I couldn't speak, and instead, just nodded. Then he grinned at me, got off the bed and went to the kitchen, and re-appeared a short while later with two coffees.
Propped up on pillows, we began to chat as we drank the coffees. Now, Ahmed was a normal little boy; gregarious, full of fun, teasing; and all done with eyes that flashed with amusement. If I could have packed him in my suitcase, I would have sneaked him back home and had him for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper. I also wondered what delights were still awaiting me. I didn't have long to wait. When we'd drunk the coffees, he bounced off the bed, put his fingers to his lips and told me to stay exactly as I was, and he picked up his gandora and went to the bathroom. I heard the shower running and then, after a short while, he returned wearing only a beautiful grin.
"Do you like honey, David?"
I nodded. "Sure I do. Why?"
He didn't answer me, just grinned, hopped on the bed and sat on my face. Now I understood the question. The small cock that was over my eyes was covered in honey, and the hole that was settled nicely on my lips was oozing it. I just knew I'd have to visit the dentists when I got home, but what the fuck, this was worth any number of fillings. And my little boy began administering me my sweet delights.
He didn't allow me to dwell on his hole; he also pushed down when he felt like it and made me take his boy cock in my mouth for a few sucks before pushing his sweet hole to my mouth again. My tongue was on a double shift, trying desperately to get every drop of the sticky stuff from every crevice, and while I was doing it, his multi-climaxes, accompanied by a low howling, were like satiating something out of the Karma Sutra. Of course, while all this was going on, I was wanking away like a normal sex-starved fourteen-year-old watching a schoolmarm with big tits, and I managed another two loin-flushes myself before Ahmed finally had to admit defeat.
He rolled off me, gripped my head in his hands, and kissed me passionately. He was breathless, too, but not quite as shattered as I was. It took a while, but, eventually, the cheeky grin returned to his face.
"I must go now David. Thank you. That was wonderful. I was right to pick you."
I grinned at him. "Shall I see you tomorrow?"
He didn't answer me, just got off the bed and showered, and when he returned, he slipped his gandora on and looked at me. "No David. You won't see me gain. I've had what I wanted, and as we say here – The first taste of honey is always the sweetest."
I protested, but he put his pretty fingers to his beautiful lips to stop me. Even so, I had to ask.
"How much do I owe you?"
He shook his head. "You owe me nothing. It has been my honour to serve you. Have a good life my beautiful, green-eyed precious lover."
And he was gone, and I never did see him again.
The end.