Shanish, Damian and Me

by $ouilac

Beginnings

Normally I was just an electronics engineer for a big European company. In a joint venture, my bosses participated in a similar, smaller African firm on this island.

In those years all communication was done via (snail) mail or via a bad, disturbed telephone and fax line. Very slow, very often interrupted, very annoying. That was another reason, why my company was looking for volunteers to soon set up a branch.

My bosses wanted a contact office/communication center and a responsible representative of our company on site.

I haven't had a partner at that time, was good at my job and an experienced group leader. Now I got the prospect of living and working on a tropical island - sounded like paradise to me. I arranged a meeting with my boss.

After I was appointed my company's local representative, we waited for the necessary official documents. In the meantime I have put my valuables (and the toys ;) ) in a lockable room and rented the rest of my apartment to a student I knew.

What I regretted later: I packed 3 suitcases with clothes and other private items that I might need.

The very first flight I took on this route was a transfer connection. Altogether 17.5 hours for almost 10.000 km. At the destination airport I quickly learned what "developing country" means.

The old Boeing 747SP parked 50 meters from the terminal building.
The passengers had to use stairs for deboarding and walk to the building, where they were greeted by a freezing cold air-conditioning.
At the gate I was welcomed by a dark-skinned, important looking man in a shiny uniform of the Immigration Office. He let me avoid the queues at Immigration and Customs, guided me to the baggage claim and even shoved my baggage trolley to a waiting taxi.

Wow - I felt like a VIP.

Almost 1.5 hours later and across the Island, I was standing at the reception of the hotel.

My future home until the rented house was renovated and fitted for my needs. The so called 'Studio' of the hotel was one of four in a house, close to the gate of this complex.
Almost 100 meters away from reception, bar, and restaurant - but luckily also from the party zone with a stage. The studio was a single, large room with a double bed, a well equipped kitchen in one room corner and an astonishingly clean, separate bathroom.

But only a big fan, no air-condition.

The boy from the reception, who helped me with my stuff a lot, explained everything to me and informed me about the amenities of the hotel and the opening hours of the restaurant.
Finally, he pointed to a telephone and explained to me that it was specially installed for me and was a hand switched, unofficial extension of the hotel's telephone exchange.

"This way we save a lot of us walking". I was pleasantly surprised by this forward thinking. With a generous tip and a broad smile he left.

Unpacking, showering and changing into much lighter and comfortable clothes was the next thing to do.
I felt better and it was time for 'happy hour' at the bar.
As I strolled through the grounds, I discovered the pool, a coffee bar and the gym.
I also saw: there was a often patched wire running through the palm tree tops from the reception to my house. MY telephone line - island style. Quick and dirty, but functional.

The usual small talk with other guests, a good dinner with local dishes and some very tasty drinks ended my first day. The next days I was busy with my planned job. But I made sure I found enough time to lie by the pool, to swim or to make short discovery tours near the hotel complex.

The following evenings were the same as the first one. Very disappointing: the other guests were just older tourists and their wives. Not any "fresh blood". The youngest I met were the employees (mostly my age - 20 ... 30 years old).
Of course i talked more to them, than I did with the elderly tourists. Soon I had a good contact to the staff and was mostly welcome if I wanted to know or have something.

But with one "need" even the concierge couldn't help - it was against the local laws.
So it was just me, little me and my hands.

The main season started, more (but not younger) tourists came and the hotel had started to offer different events. Wednesdays a grill buffet with local food (grilled fish !), Saturdays live music from a band and the demonstration of the local, very special and very erotic dance style -to which the tourists were also invited and (almost) everyone made a fool of themselves.
Hehe.

On this special Wednesday, I became aware of one waiter particularly.
He stayed in the background and mainly cleared the used plates. Rarely he served guests. Probably a new employee. First, I hadn't noticed him until now, and second, it was his movements, his behavior. Pretty insecure and somehow feminine.
About 20 years old, a bit smaller than me, slim body, very black hair. And: milk-coffee-brown skin. His ancestors maybe from India but mixed with other ethnics. A color tone, impossible to describe, but arrrgg. HAWT !

At an accidental eye contact he smiled at me all of a sudden. He did not grin, but smiled friendly.
The way you smile at a friend you spot in a crowd. He kept working, I kept eating.
Getting up to fill my plate when HIS hand appeared and I heard HIS warm voice:
"Djimun {->Mister}, you should get a new plate. Sauces better not mix. will ruins the flavour."

It does.

Very kindly I thanked him for his advice, gave him my used plate and went to the buffet again. HIS melodic, shy voice still in my ears.

Later that evening, when the restaurant had emptied a bit, he came back to my table, cleared the dishes, smiled and left. He came back from the kitchen and directly to me.
Pretending to clean the tablecloth and straighten it, he asked muffled:
"You alone? Just one person?"

"Yes, alone. I'm here on business"

"Oh - for longer time?"

"Yes, probably for half a year or maybe more"

"That's nice! Would you like another drink?"
Stunned by his 'long' conversation I ordered my 'bedtime snack'. I left a good tip under the glass for him. I was well-fed, confused and tired. Before going to bed I stood on the porch, looked at the stars and smoked a cigarette. THIS waiter and other staff members passed by my studio on their way home.
I called a "Bon nuit" to them, which was only answered by HIM and than HE waved to me. Something I could dream about that night.

The next evening he was back on duty. The waiters had no fixed areas, but served everywhere in the restaurant. He tried to serve my table as often as possible. The restaurant was well stocked and the service was constantly on the move. Unfortunately he was also in a hurry and I couldn't talk to "my" waiter much. So I asked him to stop by my porch after work.

"I'll come later. When colleagues gone. No good, seen with guests."

As he had said, he appeared 10 minutes after the staff had passed my porch. He did not use the well lit main path, but crept through the bushes and came from the side of the house to my veranda. In order not to be seen from the main path, he hid behind the large hibiscus bush near the handrail of the veranda. With a look to the left and right on the main path and to the gatekeeper he asked me straight out:
"Why you talk to me?"

"Ok, we've spoken in the restaurant some words. But as a friendly act we should introduce ourselves first"
and gave my name, age and my reasons, why I stay in the hotel much longer than a tourist. He listened carefully to me, nodded often and grinned when he found out that I would be on the island for much longer.

"Me is Shanish, I have 19 years."
He had just finished school and now wanted to work in a hotel, before going on to study hotel management.
"My English is no good. Pas bon. {->not good}"
He giggled? Laughed? Very girly, a little high in the voice for a young man ... hmmm ??

We talked for quite a while, mainly to get to know the other. The live at home, family, what we do in our free time, sports interest...
Often he searched for the English words. Instead he used a word he knew - but in an asking sound.
With my little knowledge of French I recognized many of his words and it became a good chat.
The words he couldn't find came from his native language "Creole", which I learned more and more later.

I found out for example, that he lived in a poor, original part of the island. A region without touristic interesting points, where there were no hotels, no tourists came and no sightseeing buses passed.
Because there were also no jobs in this area, he commuted by bus to work at the hotel or to go home. Almost 3 hours each way. Among other things I learned that he works here for 6 days and then is at home for 4 days.
"2 days more..." he sighed.

Nearly 30 minutes later he excused "Need last bus".
We said a warm and hearty goodbye.

After a busy and stressful day, I sat in my swimming trunks (almost as small as a Speedo), with a cool, local Phoenix beer by the pool in a deck chair, watched the fat tourists.

"Your body better"
I suddenly heard quietly from Shanish behind me. Walking and balancing his tray toward the bar as if nothing had happened.

Oops ?!
When I left the pool area and went to my studio for a shower and to dress, he waved to me secretly.

For dinner I was again his preferred guest in the restaurant. Standing next to me Shanish prepared the food on the table and we talked quietly. At some point I touched him impulsively. Because he moved at the same moment, my hand landed high up on the inside of his left thigh. Naughty as I was, I kept my hand there - near his private parts.
Not at all cowardly, he rubbed his thigh against my palm, hardly visible.

Acting horrified, he just said "Djiiimuuun!" and giggled, but didn't move away.

"Too bad we can only meet for so short. I would like to speak to you longer. Are you allowed to visit me at my room?" I said.

"Yes. George don't like. We not allowed to visit guest in room. Is misunderstood"

"I know the manager George pretty well now and I think I can talk to him. Maybe you can come and visit me 'officially' sometime"

"I no think so. Will ask George, too. Today my last day here. I'm off four day"

"Maybe it'll work out tonight, we'll see," I hoped.
And asking was a success. But George asked Shanish to be very discreet and even gave him instructions how to act.

After the other staff had long left, Shanish finally came around the corner again. He slipped directly through the insect net in the doorway into the dimmed room, where the fan was humming helplessly in the corner of the room.

"Yeesss... un vent frais! {->a fresh breeze}"
he said, and completely unbuttoned his shirt, not ashamed or inhibited at all. The shirt was now partially covering his chest loosely, moving by the wind of the fan. Due to the dim light and his brown skin I couldn't see more of him inside his shirt sadly.

"Oh - you're welcome to continue undressing. Make yourself at home."

Questioningly he looked at me and made the gesture of taking off his shirt. Silently I nodded slowly.
When he sat upright in my front with his torso naked, I could only stare at him.
So much milk-coffee-colored skin, such a beautiful, even, upper body.
No ribs and no muscles clearly visible, a well-shaped but soft and even physique. Some hairs in his armpits, but non on his chest or below his navel. Large, dark brown areolas with protruding nubs.
uff.

"You like? me look good?"

Was I drooling?

When I didn't respond immediately, he said: "You don't like" and let his shoulders droop.

"S...sorry" I stuttered. "Sorry for staring at you. You look great! Terrific!"
and licked my lips, my eyes still trapped by his very dark, large areolas.

He sat up straight again and beamed at me:
"You look good, too. You old...no no ...older as me" he corrected immediately. "...and not faaat like tourists," and giggled.

I raised my finger warningly at him, smiling, and asked him to sit next to me. While we were talking, there were repeated, careful, tentative touches. When I stroked gently his arm up to the shoulder once, he got goose bumps. His body stiffened and he asked shyly:
"You pédé ... {->gay}?"

I just nodded silently and continued to stroke his shoulder, causing his body to shiver.

"I... I, too" and hung his head "I guess... no sure"

Raising his chin, I just said,
"So what? NO reason to hang your head! Some are hetero, some are gay. One likes green, one likes red.
See it this way: It's ok and fine for us two, we are accepting it. Well - we fit together."

"Not good here. The laws are bad. And I'm young. And... but... and I... I haven't... never even kissed ...une homme" {->a male}

"We will change that, NOW"
As I was still holding his chin, he had no way to avoid my short kiss on his lips.

"Yes, no, no..." he stuttered

Yes, how? Not?

"No, I mean 'really' kissed", he said finally.

I kissed him again, now longer and more tenderly. Not just a peck. Since he did not resist, but relaxed, I slowly pushed my tongue tip between his lips. Which opened willingly. Soon my penetrating tongue was answered and he experienced his first real kiss.

After, breathing heavily, he said: "Much better as I guessed. And... very nice"

Right. His pants had got a noticeable bulge.

With an uncertain, doubting expression, his face approached me and he gave me small, short, trying kisses on the lips. Awaiting, I let him do it, let him try it out. His kisses became more brisk and braver. Finally he licked my lips tenderly with the tip of his tongue. Testing, he passed his tongue between them and when I didn't fight them off, he began the dance of tongues. He learned quickly.

Soon we were laying in each other's arms. First it was just a holding, hugging. We continued kissing and begun to caress us tenderly. My roaming hands gave him reasons for suppressed moans often. I discovered: Especially at the sides, nearly in the armpits, a hand-wide deeper, he was very sensitive for stroking.
Yes, I made good use of the knowledge.

Contrary to me, his nipples were not that sensitive, at least he got no additional pleasure by my fingers there. Licking and nibbling at them made them hard, true. But that was it. (You can easily bring me up to the moon, if you treat my nubs in the right way.)

The stroking became more demanding, urging. Breathing heavily, he held my hand.
"Please now stop. I go home. Must go doctor tomorrow morning"

"Did I scare you? Was I too demanding, too fast?"
I asked anxiously, afraid I surprised or overpowered him .

He assured me that everything was fine:
"It was nice- much nicer than I thought. You are so tender... But must go now!"

He put his shirt back on, kissed me and left.

I went too - but to the bathroom to release my pressure. (No, not the bladder)

One day it was very hot and Shanish was exhausted by the lunch service. When the restaurant was cleaned up, he came to me in the afternoon, knocked on my studio door frame and asked:

"You very busy? I want go ...plage. Dwa {->two} hours break... Beach. Come."

"ooook. Let me finish my work and I will come with you"
I was laying on my bed with my notebook (one of the first "IBM Thinkpads"), doing office work. I saved the drafts for letters and a calculation, stood up and put the floppy disc into the safety pocket of my suitcase.
As I was not expecting visitors to my studio normally, I didn't wear a shirt and only a loose shorts - without undergear. Feeling like home, I made no fuss, dropped my shorts and Shanish was greeted by my bare ass cheeks.

"Wow. So round. So white"
He joked, but with an undetermined undertone.

I turned around to him without thinking, without hesitation and without feeling ashamed. It was not a problem for me to be naked in the presence of others. (Nor was it. In Europe I am a regular guest at various nude beaches).
"Really? Too white? I should lay nekkid at the poolside more often" and laughed.

"mon dieu... un bon la {->a nice one}. Olala"
Today he was the one licking his lips.

"Yes. Enough to be me. And until today nobody has complained."
I laughed. Lifting my cock I gave poor Shanish a good view of my goods.
"You like it? Does he look good?"

He was obviously surprised or shocked, by my uninhibited, bluntly behavior - but still starring at my privates. This young teenager has probably never had an opportunity to see the parts of a grown man - especially not of a white, european one.
(Keep in mind: Internet was in it's first days and smartphones where not invented yet)

After a moment he could disengage his eyes and was able to speak again.
"It doesn't look much different then mine. Just white... Bon, tres bon... But you have few hair, nearly no bush. All europe men have?"
That was the reason for his stares! Seemingly he had expected something different.

"No. Down there I'm just like you - only the white version. Some hairs, a penis and a sack with two testicles. And normally I have a bush, too. But I like my private parts smoothly shaved and my pubes shaped and trimmed"

"I want it, too?"

Wait! What? What does he want?

Not answering the question, I stepped into my swimtrunks (boxer style, this time) put a loose shirt on and shouldered my bag for the beach.
"Lets go"

On the way to the nearby beach, Shanish was repeatedly approached by islanders and they spoke briefly to each other. Finally Shanish and me were able to lay down on the towels in the sand. I asked him impulsively:
"Maybe it's a stupid question, but do you get sunburn?"

He laughingly replied,
"Yes. Even we brownies. After a while. But not fast and not strong as these lime white english tourists. Women often red as lobster."

Fortunately I was already well tanned and had clear tan-lines (which I normally don't like at my body and try to avoid them, when I'm in Europe). I applied sun lotion on me, as far as I could reach. Shanish took the bottle without being asked and tenderly took care of my back. The touch of his slippery, tender fingers at my back and my sides made me sit up straight and enjoy.
Returning his kindness, I took care of his back just as tenderly.

Laughing, he complaint: "uuhmm... No laying on my back now",
pointing to the well-stretched front of his tight swimming trunks.

"No problem for ME" I joked. "That's nature and normal..."

When he did lie down, he bent a leg up and tried to hide his bulge. But laying at his side I could see more and I realized: His penis was not only stiff and nearly leaving the upper rim of the swimtrunks, but also slightly "bent" sideways. He literally had a banana.

Later we ate freshly prepared pineapple made by passing traders and talked about our different lifestyles and family situations again.
By swimming or commenting (not nicely) about the tourists we spent our leisure time. With a normal shaped swimshorts he later went up to the hawkers and bought 'sos ke satpal' {->fruits with sauces, a local speciality} for us. From the old big pot into a small plastic bag with a ladle. Easy and Island style...

Fortunately, he warned me when he handed me the plastic bag.
"Taste. Is good, but ...piquant?!? - spicy!"

It was really tasty. Different local fruits with different spiced sauces. Then I fetched a 'wrong' piece - it was not only spicy - it was damn hot.

"We like !" he grinned and took some more and ate it like popcorn. - brrr.

"Is my last day again. I come tonight?"
he questioned hesitatingly as if he didn't dare to ask.

"Of course. YOU are very welcome - almost always"

That evening Shanish came to my studio much earlier than the other nights. Since few, later no guests were in, the manager George had decided to close the restaurant earlier than usual.
I had been sitting at the kitchen table, reading the 'oh-so-important' company mail. As soon as he had slipped through the mosquito curtain in the terrace door, Shanish had taken off his shirt again. He proceeded through the front room and welcomed me in the tube illuminated kitchen with a hearty kiss. Was it the neon light? He looked even sexier, hotter, than with nearly no clothes at the beach.

"Oh - nice surprise! You may really continue and drop your jeans too"
and winked at him. Teasingly he opened the knob in the waistband, wiggled his hips and pulled the jeans down slowly, slow as in a striptease, and sat down on a chair.

"Come to me" he purred.

We leaned towards each other and kissed long and deep. As I was standing, he wrapped his arms around my waist and lay his head at my tummy. Saying nothing - just hugging and feeling the other one. Carefully I disengaged after a while, pulled him up, switched off the bright light and led him into the other room onto the bed. Soon as we touched the bed cloth, he wrapped his arms like tentacles me again around. It felt like he embraced me everywhere and at the same time.

The conversation didn't really get going. I had the feeling that he wanted to tell me something, something important for him, but didn't dare. Stroking my forearm casually, he finally said:
"It was nice at the beach"

"Yes, the water was good, but too many old tourists" was my reply.

"No, not that. You touching, applying cream." he nearly whispered.

"Shall I touch you like that again?"

"Then I, uhm, I banana again."

"Oh that -- well... Now and here I can take care of it, as we both are alone now."

True.

Just by my tenderly stroking of his shoulders and upper chest, the 'little Shanish' grew to a banana again. Slowly my hands slid deeper, caressing his complete chest now, fondling his tummy. During my tendernesses he kept making soft sounds of joy and pleasure, agreeing with "mhmm"s or quietly moaning. Finally I reached the edge of the briefs outside of his trousers.
Indicating his agreement he inhaled deeply (or was the touch so nice for him?) and pulled in his stomach.
Effortlessly I could pass under the elastic rim into his pants now, and landed in a (for his age) amazingly dense bush. Caressing his normally hidden skin and scratching his pubes, my fingers touched the hairy root of his penis at the end. His whole body tensed up. "uuuiiiih".

Raising his butt, he said "Wait" and took off his jeans and briefs. Slowly and laborious - as like being shy. Finally I was able to have a view of his very private things now. But instead of looking closer I continued to take care of him and the rest of his beautiful body first.
Carefully, probing with each move, I approached "little Shanish" with my fingers. Arriving at his hard one, I followed the contour to the tip. Tenderly I stroked at his cock up and down, barely touching the sensitive bone.
Until two fingers made a ring and slowly started pulling his foreskin back, intending to rub this cock properly.

"hmmf aah - careful! Slow please. Is tight, but will widen"

I would have loved to suck his cock into my mouth and work on his foreskin. That would have been the easiest, but it would very likely have frightened him. So I carefully pulled the foreskin over the tip, stuck one finger inside the hoodie and gently rubbed it with the other fingers at the outer side, massaging and loosening it.

A moment later I could even slip the wetted pinky finger deep between the upper side of the glans and the foreskin. Now it was not a problem anymore to uncover the mushroom head totally, slipping the foreskin back until the frenulum was tensed. When the skin was wide enough and slid back and forth over his dark pink glans easily, I slowly began to give him a jerk.
At first I had difficulties to follow the bowed piece of his body with my hand. (There is a first time for everything). Soon my hand went well and evenly up and down. He had become quite passive, had closed his eyes and he only enjoyed it, while moaning softly, constantly.

It didn't take long until he came, with a slightly louder, higher tone from his throat and his load shot up beyond his nipples. Pumping, he formed a nice white puddle on his tummy. When the spasms ended, his whole body relaxed. He sank down onto the bed cloth and he was quiet - only his chest rose and fell.
Since he did not move, moan or show any other reaction, I put his limb down on his pubes, took my hand away and waited.
It took a while before he made any signs of life. He revived, took a deep breath, lifted his head, searched around as if disoriented, then looked directly into my eyes finally.
"uuaaah - You better. Me masturber pas bon. ...plus intense"

I guessed he meant:
"You do it better. When I masturbate it feels not that good. ... (now it was) more intense"

After some recovery and many "bon..." while stroking the arm that had satisfied him, he got closer to me, bent down to me and took my almost hard cock between his lips suddenly and made it very hard.
Very surprised by this unexpected move I lay back and stroked his shoulder blades. He did pretty well and his blowjob wasn't bad as I feared, but good enough and satisfying for me.
VERY satisfying, after all these weeks only with my hands.

When we were cuddling next to each other again, I said
"You have practice ... That blowjob was not bad at all, not bad!"
and caressed his torso soothingly.

"Hehe. Sometimes I see pretty boys." (hu? How does he meant that?)

"And? Have you ever 'visited' one?"

"No, never. You're my first tourist"

That took me offhand. I asked back:
" ... your first TOURIST -(I emphased 'tourist')- But have you ever done anything with local friends?"

First he pushed around, then he came out and confessed:
"Yes, with a 'very good' friend. I know from school and ... experimented later"

"soso ... you've experimented. How well do you know this 'very good friend'?"

He got my drift and answered: "As good as we do now"

"Or do you know him better than me and did something different, something more?"

"We wanted. We both didn't dare. Too frightened to hurt"

Oops.

Then he had made some experience with his 'very good friend' and a lot had happened - but not THAT and he was probably still a virgin.

We cuddled and continued to stroke each other. In this comfortable, casual atmosphere we started to look at each others body more closely. He inspected my goods, traced them with his pointer finger and 'played' harmlessly with him.
I could also look at his area well. A large bush of very dense pubes, wider then his groins, almost onto the thighs.
His semi-flabby penis half covered, the black hairs almost hiding his sack. When I spread his legs wide apart without opposition or protests from him, I saw that the dark hairs also spread along his perineum and continued into the cleft.

'That's a lot of hairs. We have to change that!' I thought to myself secretly.
Nevertheless I continued caressing him, down there. Not just his cock, but everything close to the pole too. I stroked the inside of his thighs extensively, stroked his sack skin and gently kneaded his sperm makers in it.
When my finger slowly wandered behind his balls over the skin line between his spread legs towards the buttocks, his head shot up and he stiffened -

"No ... Non. Taler ... {->later}"

So: back to the front-side.
Now I was able to take some time and take a closer look at the details of his pride - due to my constantly probing and touching of his skin he was of course hard again.
His gorgeous man meat was nearly like mine - 15...16cm long and ca. 4 cm diameter. Uncircumcised, beautifully smooth and even skin, a single, prominent vein, the entire limb in the same brownish skin color as the rest of the body.
What stunned me: His glans changed its color noticeably from pale pink to purple while his member grow. The curvature of the shaft was even, really like a banana. The tip about 30 degrees off of the center-line/root. Not very much, but visible. Not kinked or something - evenly curved.

My hand followed my eyes all the time and 'examined' him palpating, feeling. The tip was still easy to uncover and I started to wank him again. But this time it should be a little more stimulating, exciting for him.
Much more exciting...
While wanking him, I stopped my rubbing, continued, or stroking only the tip, or only along the tube at the underside, or only the frenulum ... I drove him to the edge of cuming and stopped several times.
This time he wasn't lying still and wasn't silent either. Again and again he turned and writhed, moaning softly or pulling the air through his teeth. Unfortunately, by that he revealed how far he was and I always interrupted at the right (or wrong by his opinion) moment.

Again and again I drove him to the top - but not further. I somehow enjoyed the way he squirmed, trembled, suffered, awaiting the last stroke - which he didn't got. His scrotum was completely taut, his testicles fare up, almost next to his penis.
At the fifth or sixth stop he begged:
"No stop, you mean -- I must come"

"No," I said plainly, took him again to the brink and stopped again. Before he could complain, I continued again.
He moaned and spasmed good, several times.
With edge number eight I gave him a happy end.

I was afraid that his noises would be heard throughout the hotel complex as he cramped tight and shot so hard that it landed on the wall behind him. The white trail finally ended in several drops around his navel.
With two fingers I still held and squeezed the pulsating tip, another finger stroking the purple head. After the last drop had fallen, he was electrified by my touches at the tip, he tried to take the splasher away from me.
"Stop - mwa non capav {->I can not} ... stop ... it tickles"

I pressed the tube empty and licked his penis clean.

"aaah - fou ca {->you are crazy}. No lick there! ... and it tickles, too", Shanish protested.

We just lay there caressing each other for a while until he suddenly asked for the time.
"Une ami.. a friend comes soon with car. No bus go home. Service fini"

"I was in hope for a full night. But I understand"

One day it came, as we had expected earlier:
Also other tourists asked for permission for visits by the staff. Especially older female tourists....

I was having my fruit salad as a dessert at the pool side, when George looked at me to make an approach. I pointed to the free chair next to me, but he shook his head, disappeared and came back with Shanish. After asking again whether I would have time for a short talk, both sat down on the chairs next to me, and George explained me his dilemma:
He wanted to keep giving Shanish permission to visit his "long stay guest", but was asked by normal tourists for "visits" of employees too. In a friendly discussion between George, Shanish and me we decided to stop his attendance in my room at once and find another solution later.

The way out off "George`s stomach ache" came very soon and suddenly. Two days after our conversation and the stop of Shanish's visits to my room, the construction company for my house called me in the hotel. They informed me they were almost finished and I should check everything and approve.

After lunch, I spoke to Shanish near the kitchen area about the call and he suggested I visit him at his home when I'm done with the check of the house. I learned casually that my new home was near his village. No more 45 minutes crisscross, top to bottom trips across the island. Only 10 min by car between us.
Yippie!

The handover of the future representation and office of my company went surprisingly well. Everything was very well done and according to the extra wishes of my company and me. Not at all the typical 'island style' as I feared. Solid and well done craftsman work.
The gratuities, I gave in advance, had helped. And EVERYTHING (aircon, telephone lines, power...) worked.
Even the special water system: It was alternatively supplied by the public line or by a tank on the roof, which was filled due to the much higher water pressure during the nights. (Thanks for advising me, plombier - Merci !)
When I signed the papers I gave the foreman another generous tip, and an amount to pass over it to the other workers.

Once again I walked through the empty rooms, I decorated and furnished them in my minds, locked MY house up and drove over to Shanish's family. Unfortunately there was a market in the main road of the village between our houses, and I needed more time than expected.
Luckily Shanish stood at the main street, waiting for me, and piloted me into his housing area. At that times there were no street names for this private ...gravel roads.

His house was at the end of one of this alleies. At european standards very simple and poor, but it looked nice and cosy to me. The area in front of the house and the garden were bordering on two sides a sugar cane field, the third side was a wall to the neighbor.
A bit important to me: No trash in the yard like at other houses, everything clean and tidy.

The house was started by his great-grandfather umpteen years ago with building just two rooms. Shanish's grandfather extended the house and added a kitchen and a french loo. Also Shanish's dad added rooms, as the family grew, and installed a shower and another toilet for sitting.
Inside the house it was a bit like in a labyrinth. Not a straight, main corridor with all room doors. Several smaller aisles branched off, leading off to the different rooms. This zig-zag was caused by the added rooms. Not in a line, not at one level built individual rooms. Very unique.

Now Maman, his mother, was standing in the front door to welcome the European. She looked at me closely, surveying me, but smiled. Was she grinning knowingly, suspecting?
(Shanish later told me that she knew long ago he was gay, and that I was his new 'friend')

We sat down in the huge kitchen with tea and homemade biscuits, speaking English/French/Creole at the same time and entertaining ourselves. As we talked, more and more family members came home and soon an unmarked bottle of a clear liquid came on to the table. Local, white, sugarcane Rhum.
After a half-full shot glass to taste it, I decided the Rhum is much too good to drink it with coke. And too strong (58% alc !) to drink more.

Maman recognized my preference of beer. One of Shanish's younger cousins was sent down the hill to buy more beer at the corner store (run by another uncle). While Maman was pulling her wallet out of the kitchen drawer, I had already given Shanish a bigger bank note. Shanish proudly told Maman that he is paying because HIS guest prefers to drink beer. I winked at him "well done".
I didn't want to be a burden on them.

With all the Rhum and beer, I couldn't drive myself back to the hotel later, even though I had limited my consumption.
I was certainly over the legal limit. Therefore, Maman's offer to share the room with Shanish was very welcome. Not to give any clues or cause for speculation, we carried an extra mattress to Shanish's room.
Anyway - later we only used his mattress. And used it good.

Mainly it was just for lovingly touches, hugging and caress. Enjoying the presence the other one by casual tendernesses, without the goal of excitation of the second body. As I stroked his plenty pubic hair, he asked me:
"Too much. You cut and shave me!?"

I laughed: "Shaving yes - but cut? Circumcising? No, never!"

He also laughed: "No, no, my gogod {->Penis} stays same! But cut the pubes shorter and trim the bush a little smaller", stood up and got a small pair of scissors and his razor with a new blade.
He laid comfortably near to the edge of the bed. So, that his butt protruded and hardly touched the edge of the bed. He put his feet on the bed frame, spread his knees far apart and waited.

I took a deep breath and looked at the most intimate parts of his body. His sooo sensitive inner thighs, his relaxed tube, completely brownish by the closed foreskin, the loosely hanging balls in their wide, soft pouch.
Among them ... bushy hairs which hid his pink "eye".

With a sigh I stroked his thighs, took the comb and scissors and began my work. I was able to shape and shorten his bushy pubic hair into a much smaller, less dense triangle over his tail. At the end it was one finger inside away of his groin lines and two fingers below the hem line of his underwear. On his belly he had, by nature, only the "happy trail" leading from his new triangle to the navel.
Ok - it was more like a upside down trapezoid, and the smallest side was defined by the width of his penis root.

"Please my gogod too" Sahnish requested.

"Whaaat?"

"Mwa gogod, my cock."

"Why is it called gogod?" I questioned.

"When is hard it point up to god !" ...sometimes it's that easy at the Island.

So I also cut close to the penis root and on his shaft the hair shorter with the scissors and then explained to him:
"To do it properly, we should shave off all the stubble - but with a wet razor and soap.
Can we use the shower? It would be much easier."

He shook his head and stutteringly requested:
"First cut off at ... at my motee {->pearls}. Everything off. Totally. Also behind, up to ... to ..." and grinned embarrassed.
"I want smooth all. Like you"

Oh boy! - This confession surprised me unexpectedly.

Fortunately, all the other family members were in their own rooms. We quietly went to the shower cubical. Once inside, I washed the "construction site" well. After, I rinsed the shower gel off thoroughly and then applied a little bit of his shaving soap.
Of course, I made use of the situation and took more time than necessary for these actions on his body - for mine and his pleasure.

One of my hands shut the water flow off and the other hand pushed and pressed him with his back and bum against the jungle-green painted concrete wall. I knelt down, grabbed his pride and lengthened it by pulling some firmer on the foreskin that extended beyond the tip of the glans. He swallowed audible and stuttered:
"Atansyon... Be... be... very careful with blade, please! I don't want to need to sit down for peeing!"

"You can be very sure, I will take good care of it. We want to use that lovely piece of you some more often, don't we?"
I said and started to shave the parts on Shanish's front.

The work at his skin earlier and the constant touching of his cock had not remained without consequences. Stretching the pole even more, I pulled at the foreskin with my fingers. Line by line I cleaned the upper side of the shaft with the razor blade. 'Gogod' straightened up all by himself and I could easily reach the underside, while Shanish held the tip to his tummy with one finger.
Also the front of his not so flabby sack.

When he turned around at my request, my hand between his shoulder blades forced him to bend forward deeply and present his peach butt to me. He voluntarily spread his ass cheeks with his hand and I had to control myself hard to continue my work.
With his other hand he propped himself against the wall and continued to hold his ass cheeks apart to give me full access.
The cutter made him tense his muscles every now and then and his hole tightened up. To endure all the touches down there and back there was visibly difficult for him. Sometimes his knees trembled violently and he suppressed a moan of pleasure.
I held his pouch just above his testicles and stretched the skin over his balls. Not wanting to hurt him with the razor, I gently shaved his marbles. Then I pulled his sperm makers out of the way, took care of the remaining scrotum skin and then the perineum up to his hole and a little higher while he held his butt cheeks apart.

Finished, hairless and smooth, the view of that area of his body was much harder to bear, then before on the bed frame and with all that hairs. Not to grab him, not to rape him, right now, right here. Instead, I rinsed off everything well, I checked his smooth skin with my finger. The touch of his crevice near his hole made him tense again and this time he groaned hard:
"Yesss ... I feels more, much better. No tickles".

The contact of my stroking fingertip with the dark brown wrinkled folds of his hole tensed him again and again and even more. My kisses, where he had never been kissed before, made it difficult for him to remain standing with his cramping and trembling legs....
"I hope you have lube" I said between my kisses.

"uhmm. No. What for?"

"Silly you... To make it easier and more comfortable for you - taler {->later}"

"Oh, yeah. Good thinking. We can use different ?"
As we tiptoed through the large kitchen back to his room, he pointed to a bottle and asked me:
"Is oil also possible?" and took the bottle of 'Rani' vegetable oil with him.

hmm... not the best choice, but better than dry for his first time.

Back in his room and both of us on his bed, the cuddling and caressing started over and became very intense and arousing soon.
Using his unscented body lotion, I took care of his previously shaven parts. My slippery hand treated his cock, applied lotion at his scrotum skin carefully. At a gesture from me, he pulled his knees up to his chest and I was able to continue my treatment of the remaining, shaved areas of skin.
Gently spreading the balm behind his balls I approached his boypussy but didn't touched it. Instead I engulfed his upstanding pole with my lips and sucked him. It didn't take long with the moving mouth on his banana to make him cum.

All the time Shanish was noisy and restless again, encouraging me, squirming, and moaning quietly or squealing in higher tones close to his end. When he was finished cumming, I licked from the band of the foreskin under the glans along the underside of his member to the base, passed the tightened pocket and made him tremble again, when I ran my tongue across the perineum.
Between his moans; while I "kissed" him, I meant to have heard an halfhearted "no no no".
But he was still sticking his butt out on his own initiative. When I touched again his hole with a finger, he flinched. My kisses and tongue, close at or directly in his boypussy, made him cramp and shiver. Shanish's muscle contractions and suppressed breathing made me suspect he was having a dry orgasm.

Unknown to him, I had a drop of oil applied to my middle finger and tried his hole with it. Amazingly easily my oiled fingertip slid into his boypussy, as deep as the fingernail is long.
He was in such a delight and his muscles that relaxed, I could easily slip my digit in and out of him. Going deeper and deeper with every penetration. Introducing him to the feeling of something else inside his bowels. Making him familiar with the feeling that something is invading on his former Exit Only door.
I started brushing over his little bump inside him randomly over and over, which aroused him enough to an almost constant drip of precum.
My second finger penetrated also surprisingly easily after some light pressure. His sphincter accepted me such easily - it must have had training before. His 'best friend' and him must have been doing more then Shanish confessed to me. Breathing heavy, he said between his moans:
"Oh, that's nice. uuuh ... sa santi bon {->this feels so good}"

I continued to finger at and in his backside and gave him additionally an loving and intense kiss on the lips. Being used at both ends, he enjoyed it for some time and then he loosened our lips, looked me firmly in the eyes and whispered in an excited, trembling voice:
"Take me! Come into me! I want you in me - now!". He groaned the "now".

A little uncertainly, I said in a low and doubting voice:
"Really? I will be your first in there. It may hurt, may hurt a lot!"

"Do it !"
he replied with a firm, nearly commanding voice.

My oily glans touching his anus made him take a deep breath, awaiting the penetration and the pain. Instead i rubbed my tip at his waiting hole, raising his excitement. Then I held it still at his entrance and pushed a bit into the folds. My constant, light pressing stretched him further and slowly I intruded. He pushed a bit and the head of my penis overcame completely his sphincters.
Just a short "uff" by my love.

All the time I kept my eyes at him, reading his facial expressions.
Awaiting, excitement, tension, a short grimace when I passed into him. After my glans was completely buried and right behind the gate keeper I stopped my motions and kept still. I saw big, open eyes and a surprised face changing into a smiling. He focused to his sensations again and looked at me firmly:
"You did it. You in me, no pain!"
and silently: "mwen se yon nonm {->I'm a man (now)}" and sighted satisfied.

He had laid a hand flat on my chest to stop me, in case it was too painful - but he was still smiling happily even as I sank deeper. I often stopped and held my position, to get him used to my pole inside his intestines. At one of this interruptions of penetrating him, he said muffled (in Creole first):
"moment ... mwa pas comfortab {->Just a moment, i feel inconvenient}",
moved his ass and pelvic some and pressed his lower regions against mine again.

I continued my journey into his pussy uninterrupted. When I was bottomed inside him, I held still. He had constantly caressed my chest with his hand. Now he embraced me tightly with both arms and kissed me with tears in his eyes.

"That it can be so beautiful, so satisfying - my 'good friend' and I never thought that with all our fears of pain. I feel happy, so full, you in me"

"The best is yet to come. Have fun." and I began to move inside him again.
First he looked at me questioningly when I pulled my hardness out of him, but then grinned again when I moved in the opposite direction. He was a natural. Soon he had adjusted his pelvis to my movement. When I stopped drilling into him in between because I was close to cum, he complained:
"Keep going, don't stop, keep making love with me"

I stabbed harder and faster when he suddenly tensed up and his banana unloaded again. Fortunately, the pillow on his mouth muffled his sharp, pointed cries. His pulsing anal muscles massaged me well and I inseminated him shortly after his orgasm, while deep inside him.

Our intimate kiss and tight embrace lasted (almost) an eternity - until we fell asleep, still fused together at our lower ends.

The sun, dimmed and tinted by the partially closed curtains, woke me next morning. As not being a morning person, it took me a moment to realize where I was. But the smiling, brown face next to me helped me fast to remember the last night.
"Good morning, dear" I welcomed Shanish. "Slept well ?"

"After your help yesterday - formidable. It still feels like you're with me."

" ...and it looks like, when I see your lovely, upstanding cock"

"Ah - that's just morning wood. You have too. Shall I `help' you?"

"Better we have a shower first. We smell a bit ... strong. And there are this traces on your body. Damn, you shot hard and far."

"No wonder - your pomping forced me so."

"How do your ass feels? Pain, sore?"

"No. Not at all. I could again..."

"taler, mon coer, taler. {->later my dear} I need a piss badly"

"Alez - lets move"
Passing totally nude through the labyrinth fastly, we dashed through the kitchen into the sanitary rooms and did our things without fooling around.
The sounds caught Maman's attention. We came back into the kitchen, luckily covered with a towel at our lower parts. A quick look at our half-naked bodies made her smile even wider and she continued to prepare our breakfast. Did she hear or notice something? Her smile was so mysterious: amused, happy (and knowing?) ...

We enjoyed our breakfast only in loose boxers at the terrace and planned our day being together. As the House and Representation Office was completed, I needed to move in. To set the private rooms and the office with furniture, technical stuff and some decorations. First things first: My belongings which I already had in the hotel.
Since Shanish was off work, we drove together across the island to the hotel. During the drive I asked him:

"What did your mom said when I got my second coffee? It sounded like 'tum khush ho'?"

He blushed: "She asking 'me happy?' in Hindi..."

"And? Are you happy?"

He slapped me hard on my thigh next to his: "fou ca ... Silly you! YESSS!"

At the hotel we loaded my belongings into the car and I checked out. I was warmly bid farewell by the staff and 'forced' to come again.
(No wonder, by the amount of tips I had given out during my stay)

A surprise awaited Shanish at my house: the oversized double bed, which I had ordered from the local carpenter (the delivery was included). My, now our, "playground".
"It will be easier for you, in case you miss the last bus" I told him

"Oh, I'm going to miss a lot of buses," he laughed.

Correct. After that day (and night) with him he missed a lot of buses.
Whenever he had his 'weekend' and didn't had to work, or had other duties.

Besides making love to each other, I met many of Shanish's friends.
Surprisingly, I would never have recognized his "best friend" as the one who was fooling around with him. He was actually the most masculine and straight of the guys I was introduced to. A few others rang my gaydar. And they were really handsome, hot guys. Some were very girly, flamboyant, extroverted and "queenly".
The meetings have always been nice and funny. Always harmless insofar as sex is concerned. With hints or fleeting, tender touches - but nothing else happened.
For me, as a non-islander, very informative for allday things.

Getting more and more used to the local habits, I got along fine. Often I bought my groceries at the local farmers' market or other needed stuff at the local stores. More and more people got to knew me and I became the 'Zanmitay blan' {->friendly white (man)} in the village. I also learned about the (illegal) factory stores of big fashion brands at low prices.
Now I was really angry about the three suitcases of clothes I brought along...

At one of these meetings with Shanish's friends it became hot, sex wise. Seven of us were sitting in my cozy backyard, eating, drinking, talking. When Shanish brought new beer he held his hands, cooled down by the bottles, against Pavan's neck.
(Pavan was THIS 'best friend' of Shanish)
Pavan shrieked up and stood like lightning by Shanish's side and tickled him merciless.

A howling and laughter broke out...

During this chaos Shanish lost his previously already opened shirt and Pavan's hands reached his targets more easily. Among other spots also Shanish's nipples, which received a good rubbing and pinching. At first it was just between the two of them, but when Shanish asked for my help, two friends jumped up and pressed me back down into the chair. Shanish stood there, bulging his pelvis forward and presenting his bulge in the shorts:
"See what he did to me !!"

Pavan reached out and took hold of the presented genitals completely:
"HE take care later!"

While this all happened, I saw several other hands reaching into the laps and sorting personal parts.
Did Shanish received also jealous looks by the others?

The scene calmed down and Shanish came to me, kissed me and proclaimed to his friends:
"He take very good care of me",
laughed his high pitched, girlish laugh and sat down again.

Pavan spoke out what many other friends probably thought:
"I wouldn't be angry if HE would also take care of MY..."

Cheeky and straightforward as I was, I answered him:
"Sorry. Too late. Shanish was here first, took my heart and claims also the rest of me."

Shanish fell into the conversation:
"So what? Why don't you do it to him and really polish him, until he begs to stop? As long as your heart is still with me..."

We both looked at five open-mouthed incredulous faces.
Knowing a little of what had happened between Pavan and Shanish in the past, I got up and went over to Pavan. The observing eyes got even bigger.
Did they thought I would do it here and now?

Hugging him from behind, I let my hands on his (clothed) chest slide deeper. Someone breathed in deeply and audibly. Pavan sat frozen. My hands reached his belt:
"uhmm ... I don't think we need no audience for this..."

I said quietly near his ear, blowing my breath at it. A last, tighter grip between his slightly open legs and I sat down again.
I remarked meanly: "By the way - that little guy of you would be afraid of spectators."

One of the 'girls' got up and hurried wordless into the house. Fantasy overload? Well, it definitely took longer than the usual time for a pee.

The already friendly atmosphere had suddenly changed. How shall I describe it? It became more open, freer, more uninhibited. The touches got more tender. The conversations became more open, between them more intimate, direct, and two even dared to exchanged a hearty kiss. It seemed as if they had lost their last reservations and inhibitions about me.

When the five friends left that evening, one said to me in the door way:
"If we had known earlier. It was very nice with you and at your place. So open, so relaxed. May we come again?"

I couldn't suppress a lame joke:
"I don't know if you can cum again, but I hope so".

Unbelieving, shocked he looked at me. When he recognized the joke, he grinned broadly.

Seriously I continued:
"Yeah sure. Just let us know, so Shanish and I aren't ...busy" and winked at him.

He laughed, also girlishly.

"Please also tell the other friends - you can share my private mobile number"

When it was just Shanish and me, I said to him:
"Some special friends you have... A bit crazy, but all are nice and kind."

"Yeah, I was VERY surprised how ....open they got and acted. Maybe they needed a place like this to feel good"

"Feel good? I will make YOU feel good now."

Unfazed, he continued:
"Imagine... The others coming here and... having good times. And feel good, too. .... and the backyard is look proof, high fence."

"Wait - What? Whats going on in your head?"

"At least the picture of naked boys laying and walking around"
he giggled and drew me inside, rubbing his crotch.

It must have been what happened before or his imagination from the naked, naughty guys in the yard, Shanish was very excited and quickly reached his first climax while I was inside him. Maybe it was my age, my experience (or both?) - I needed more caresses and stimulation, after which I could make him happy again. Judging by the white puddle in and around his brown navel, I made him very happy.

He was really done and we fell asleep soon.

Did I end up in paradise?