Date: Mon, 1 Apr 2024 18:58:14 +0000 (UTC)
From: Harry Broom <harry.broom@yahoo.com>
Subject: Becoming a philosopher 20  Gay/ College

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Becoming a Philosopher 20

Svens' flight had been delayed by an hour, so Martin got a toasted
sandwich. Sven was going to stay with us in our apartment for three months
while he worked through the final draft of his PhD with his professor. He
had worked solidly and felt that he was at the end stages. Martin and I
discussed how we would manage things in the apartment. I told him that I
wanted to organise a sailing weekend at Langebaan and that we could camp
for a night or two. Martin was keen as he had never sailed before. The last
time I had sailed was in Sweden on Lake Vänern with Sven when we rescued
Nicolas.

Sven was exhausted and hadn't slept much on the plane. I was glad to see
him again and he embraced Martin and me. He was looking good and had put on
some weight. His blond hair was longer, and I was glad to have my Swedish
boy with me again. He had one suitcase and had brought us a bottle of vodka
as a gift, his gran had sent me a copy of a French author's book "A History
of Violence"; Eduard Louis was the talk of Europe and she knew I would
enjoy it.

Sven moved into the room that looked towards Stellenbosch. It was a hot day
and stripped down to his undies. It was good to see his body again. He was
tall and thin and not too muscular. My mind went back to the tragic time
when he was very depressed and had taken an overdose of his prescription
meds. I remembered washing him in the shower and getting him to the campus
clinic. But that was a while back and he was in good shape and that made me
happy. He slept for two hours after his shower, and I woke him up so that
we could go down to our favourite pizza joint near the university. Martin
commented on Sven's beautiful eyes, and he also liked his little arse. I
found that funny as he had never made comments about guys before.

We turned in early, Sven wanted to be fresh when he met his professor. He
had a full printout of his thesis, and I asked him if I could scan through
it sometime. I was just dosing off when my phone rang. I was a little
confused, it was Carlo's father, and he wanted to share some good
news. There was an insurance payout on Carlo's life and he wanted me to
have 30,000 euro as a gift. I told him that I couldn't take it.

"Thomas you're our son. We loved your visit, and we feel that you are part
of our family. Please, please accept the gift. All I ask is that you keep
in touch."

I was overwhelmed and thanked him for his generosity. I was so excited and
woke Martin up. He got a fright and I had to calm him down. I told him
about the gift and hugged him. He congratulated me and then turned over and
went back to sleep. I lay thinking about Carlo and his family and my time
in Verona, and I understood where Carlo got his generous spirit from. It
was weird to think that Carlo was murdered in the same room that we were
sleeping in.

Sven's professor welcomed him and was pleased to receive the hard copy of
his draft. Sven told me that he was a little lazy, and he immediately got
him to tutor a group. I told him that he needed to manage his professor and
that he set some deadlines for feedback. He agreed and we went for lunch at
the Kaplan Centre.

I told him about our friends Ariel and David who had visited from Israel. I
told him that Ariel was going to do a course in Peace Studies and that I
had first met him on a Scout jamboree. Sven told me about Nicolas and that
he had met a Muslim guy from Syria at university and that he hoped that he
would settle down. I laughed and said that that could be a complicated
relationship. I told him that David was an ultra-Orthodox Jew and had left
his Yeshiva and that his family and community had cut him off. Sven told me
that Nicolas' family had not contacted him and that they didn't take his
calls.

I leaned across the table and kissed my Swedish boy and told him how lucky
I was. I told him that I felt a little guilty as I wasn't so close to
Carlo. I was quite hard on him with the Wynand affair and told him what I
thought. Marisa walked in at that moment, and I introduced her to Sven. Her
music studies were going well and her relationship with the coffee shop
owner was going well. Sven hugged her and told her how sorry he was about
the situation with Wynand. My Swedish boy was a sensitive type and had
tears in his eyes.

That afternoon I took Sven to Kirstenbosch Gardens, where we walked in the
warm afternoon sun, and he told me how happy he was to be back in
Africa. We found a spot under a huge oak tree where we lay on our backs and
continued our conversations. Sven was easy to speak to and we had a lot in
common. I told him how much I cared for Martin and that our relationship
was going well, but he was a quiet person and didn't talk that much.

The next day Sven met his professor who had started working on his
dissertation. He liked his introduction but wanted him to add a paragraph
or two to personalise the dissertation and say what steered him towards the
topic. He promised to discuss his literature review the next week. Sven had
a lot of reading to do on the philosophy of sex. One of the professors had
developed a course, which she said would generate a lot of interest. Sven
was familiar with philosophical counselling but hadn't done any reading in
this area before, and Sven wondered whether the course dealt with
homosexuality.

Martin and I told Sven about our plans to go sailing in Langebaan. Sven was
excited and said that he would love to put the skills he had gained into
practice. I told them that we would stay in the best hotel and that I would
cover the costs. Later that evening Martin and I were lying in bed reading,
and I asked Martin if he was happy to share a room with Sven, or whether we
should get two rooms. He put his book down on the side table and turned to
me and said he was very happy to share.

"I like Sven and he's very attractive. I also like his gentle and
considerate approach; and besides isn't he the guy with one testicle?"

"Shut up Martin, don't be naughty. You'll see that he's fine."

Martin kissed me and ran his hands over my chest. I put out the light and
moved my hand and started wanking his hard dick.

A week later we packed our luggage into my car and made our way up the West
Coast to our luxury hotel. I made sure that I had packed my vodka gift and
my favourite Speedo. Sven had fallen asleep in the back seat and Martin had
his hand on my leg and kept sliding his hand up to my penis while I
drove. I was hard and told him to stop as I didn't want to have an
accident. He laughed, stuck his hand in his shorts, and played with
himself, and it was clear that Martin had a fun weekend in mind.

The hotel overlooked the tranquil Langebaan Lagoon and the sunset from our
window was spectacular. We didn't unpack and went downstairs to enjoy a
seafood buffet dinner. The food was incredible, and the award-winning chef
took pride in her work. She had recommended a West Coast wine to accompany
our dinner and had provided some background to the dishes on the table. The
setting was magical, and Martin was relaxed and in a talkative mood. Sven
felt a sense of accomplishment, as his professor was very happy with his
entire dissertation. He had to make some minor changes. He had to change
the sequence of things and get a language edit before submitting. I
recommended the Head of English at one of the schools near the
university. He was a scoutmaster and had worked on several dissertations
previously.

We returned to our huge room. It had two king-sized double beds and a small
lounge area. We unpacked while Sven took a shower and Martin kept grabbing
my arse. We jumped into the shower as soon as Sven came out wrapped in a
towel. Martin was all over me and his dick kept poking me as he hugged
me. I kept him off and we washed each other as we plotted to ambush
Sven. We dried each other off, and both of us were sporting raging boners.

Sven was lying in his bed with a book in his hands when we split up and
launched onto the bed from either side. He dropped his book and raised his
arms defending himself. I grabbed him from behind and held him while Martin
went down and sucked his dick. Sven laughed and pretended to fight me. I
was hard and somehow found myself lying under him with my dick pressed
again his back. Sven was ticklish and laughed a lot. Martin stopped sucking
Sven and came up and gave him a deep kiss. I nibbled Martin's ear and
eventually, we arranged ourselves into a daisy chain with Martin still
sucking Sven's dick. Sven stopped us and said he wanted to taste Martin and
slowly began to suck his dick. Martin squirmed and almost came. I was
behind Sven's arse playing with his hole with my tongue. We moved into a
daisy chain again and Martin blasted off in Sven's mouth setting off a
chain reaction. That night we shared a bed with Sven sandwiched between
Martin and me.

The next day we were up early and washed each other off in the shower. The
premium shower soap made foam which seemed to increase the sensuality of
the moment and Sven enjoyed my cum that morning. We dried ourselves off and
applied sunscreen to our naked bodies, another sensual moment with me
getting hard all over again. Martin sucked me off just before we went down
for breakfast.

It was a beautiful day, and we made our way down the yacht basin where we
picked up a classic Flying Dutchman for hire. I rigged it up with the help
of the owner and we launched her into the lagoon. Sven wanted to show me
what he remembered from our time in Sweden and took the tiller, while I
explained the basic principles of sailing to Martin. It was fantastic being
out on the water with my friends and the sun beat down on us as we picked
up speed. A seagull hovered above us, probably looking for food, and I
wondered what he thought of these three guys in their red Speedos.

Sven was doing well, and Martin watched him carefully. When we got to where
it was quiet I asked Sven to let the rope go and we drifted in the sun. I
stood up and rocked the boat a bit and asked Martin to take the tiller and
take us out towards the lagoon opening. The water became choppier as we got
closer to the ocean, and I explained how to bring the boat about again. He
did well and Sven and I moved across to counter the weight. I opened some
cans of beer, and this kept us cool in the morning sun. There was a great
sense of freedom as the boat skimmed the water and the wind whistled in the
sails. I had an erection and Martin commented that he couldn't take my dick
anywhere. He looked so good in his Speedo with his life vest flapping in
the wind. I took the tiller and sailed us back to the hotel for lunch.

We didn't have the energy to sail that afternoon and lounged around the
pool drinking beer. Martin laughed about our Speedos and told us a story
about a geography field trip he was on in Grade 10 in the Golden Gate
National Park:

"We were staying at the youth hostel a kilometre from the main camp. The
hostel was in a wooded valley and surrounded by sandstone cliff faces. It
was an incredible setting. We learnt how to abseil down one cliff one
morning and had great fun. Graham and Ella were rangers in the park and
made sure that we followed all the safety procedures they had taught
us. After lunch, we had a geology lesson and were shown some uplifted
strata, and later we went to a small farm dam where we were given a water
safety briefing and provided with life jackets. We used the two-man canoes
and had a lot of fun. Towards the end of the afternoon, we were tipping
each other over, using the oars to splash each other and mucking
about. Graham was on a paddle ski wearing a green Speedo monitoring the
action. He had dark brown eyes and had developed muscle in the line of
duty. He was in is late twenties and had a beautifully tanned body, and his
Speedo showed of his junk. If I stared any longer, I am sure I would have
got hard.

After supper I walked away from the hostel area and followed a path through
the thick Ouhoud (Old Wood) bushes. I had heard the owl calls the previous
night, and equipped with my birding binoculars I went on a search for the
Spotted Eagle Owls nesting in the area. Just under a kilometre away, the
path had a diversion to the right, which I followed.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw the wooden house. It had an outdoor
shower, and Graham was showering. I focused my binoculars and saw him
soaping his body. His dick was erect as he spread the soap over his chest
and shoulders.

Facing away from the wall, his eyes closed, his tanned skin dripping with
water from the shower he was pumping his hard dick, which was what I was
focussed on. It was huge compared it mine, and his hand glided skilfully up
and down. My heart was beating fast, and my dick was hard in my
shorts. Graham's other hand massaged his wet chest, and his fingers teased
his nipples. He moved his hand behind his arse and played with his
hole. His dark brown hair, black in the dimmer light of dusk, was
dripping. I watched intently as he shot ropes of cum onto the ground. He
stayed there for a while with his eyes closed and continued to wank.

I moved away from the house into the thicker bush and released my hard dick
which was oozing precum and copied Graham's technique which I had just
admired. I came in no time and brought my, sticky hand to my mouth and
licked off the cum wishing it was Graham's.

Around about the same time the next night, I followed the route through the
bushes to Graham's house hoping for another treat. His jeep wasn't there,
but his green Speedo was on the line. I walked away from the house into
thick bush and pulled out my hard dick. I spat on my hand and slowly glided
my hand up and down thinking of Graham in his green Speedo. My balls pulled
into my body, and I shot strings of cum, just missing my binoculars lying
on the ground.

The smell of Ouhoud bush will always remind me of Ranger Graham."

You don't have to guess what we got up to in our room later that afternoon.