George , dear sweet George, he had more hang-ups than the huge closet into which he had firmly shut himself. We met as I was finishing my National Service and he was finishing serving out the ten year Commission that he had signed up to just before the war. I was pretty green in many ways and it took a while before I realised that he was crazy for me and ached to have sex with me. But homosexuality was illegal then so it was not necessarily the first thing one thought of when an older man took an avuncular interest in one's wellbeing.
One night he took me home to his beautiful house in Chelsea near the river. We had been to a dinner with friends, (we had been separately invited,) and G asked me if I wanted a lift home, on the way he then asked me to join him for "a nightcap". One drink lead to two and then we were kissing and generally making out and he was taking off my clothes and I was discovering he was well endowed, uncut with a rampant 8 inches or so. I blew him, happily sucking on that splendid mouthful, taking his bright pink-head deep into my throat till he ejaculated god-knows-how-many month's supply of his cum which was delicious. Then he wanted to fuck me too, so he picked me up and carried me off to his four-poster bed where I fucked him and later, he had his "wicked way" with me. I had lost my cherry several years before and G was a gentle and considerate lover so we became occasional fuck-buddies.
I had planned on taking a three week break and going to Rome in the late summer, but George said why not come to Venice with him (he had some business to see to). He would drive me there in his DB4 (then the latest thing in motoring erections) and pick up the various Hotel tabs. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth nor refuse comforting cock action, I agreed and so with Autumn approaching and the summer season beginning to close down. We left London for the Air ferry between Lydd and Le Touquet
We drove through France stopping for the weekend at some old friends of his who were celebrating someone's eightieth birthday. We drank the same Champagne that had been served at King Edward VII's coronation. It was no longer sparkling but to my innocent, uncorrupted palate it was delicious. The following morning I was taken on the tour of the caves for this was a place where people took the production of Champagne very seriously, and that was where I first saw Bruno.
As well as tours for the private guests, there were public tours and he happened to be on one. There was nothing special about him, and yet everything was special about him. He was with his Sister and Brother-in-law (as I was to discover) and it was clear that he felt he wished he hadn't joined them. He looked very like his sister but sexier. This disparate trio were making a bit of a scene. His sister was arguing with him and he was apologising but clearly closing himself off from them. He had large, almond shaped, deep blue eyes and a generous mouth. His hair was 'dirty' blonde and he was gangly. I knew when he stood he would be over six foot - later I found he was six two. - Yet then he was trying to tuck himself away. There was something both vulnerable yet strong about him along with that wish that he just wanted to be somewhere else other than with his present companions.
As the tour that Bruno was part of moved away he glanced across, caught me looking at him. I grinned and flashed my eyes at him in sympathy. He smiled and dropped one eyelid in the slowest wink before turning away to follow.
Some four nights later George and I were on the Lido in Venice staying in a rather old fashioned hotel where he was obviously an 'honoured' guest and knew the management. So George had booked us separate rooms implying to the management that I was his 'godson', as he had people and business to attend to it was clear that I was expected to be able to entertain myself. He gave me a list of the various palazzo and other sites that I really ought to visit. I could explore Venice at my own pace and tell him all about it when we met up each day for either Lunch or Dinner.
That first night the air was sultry and I went out on the small balcony and looked down across the beach. The gentle waters of the Adriatic have never looked so enticing. I slipped into my very brief trunks and a dressing gown, grabbed a towel and went down to the bar. Checking that I could get back in, I went out. Dropping gown and towel, I waded out into the warm waters till the land suddenly fell away and one could play like a dolphin in his element. As someone who only knew the very cold seas off the East coast of Scotland or else had only swum in chlorinated municipal pools, these sensuously warm waters were a revelation. [The pollution from the industrial plants at Mestre had yet to poison the lagoon]. I swam, I ducked, I dived. It was wonderful for the whole Adriatic seemed to be there as my private pool. Eventually I swam back to the beach and after towelling myself, I made my way back up to the hotel bar. I was about to order a drink when a soft dark voice behind me said, "Please, can I buy you a drink?"
I turned and there was Bruno. "I think we nearly meet in France? Can we do so here in Venice?" and he smiled. It was one of the most embracing smiles that has ever wrapped itself around me.
"Hi. Thanks. A Martini Rosso, ice and zest." I smiled back and knew that tonight I would not be spending it alone.
"You, too, stay at this hotel?"
"Yes, second floor" I could feel my heart beating that little bit faster
"Same as me." He smiled.
"Your family still with you?" I asked. He shook his head.
"No they put me here as they stay with old friends"
"Let's finish our drinks, and then you can show me your 'etchings'?"
"I hope to show much more than that" he laughed.
We moved out of the bar, up in the lift and to his room at the back. It was away from the views of the moonlit sea; I didn't mind for the view I was getting, was getting better all the time. No sooner was the door closed than we were in each other's arms and mouth sought out mouth. His wide full lips drew mine to him and our tongues began the soft sexual dance of promise. His arms were strong and he wrapped me in them holding me tight against his hard chest. We could feel our cocks lengthening against each other. My dressing gown fell away and my damp trunks were dropped from my hand. I pulled back to allow myself just enough room to remove his polo shirt and when I undid the belt on his shorts, they too fell to the floor, I had groped him so knew he was going 'commando'. We were naked and devouring each other. He lifted me, put me on the bed and fell on top. His skin was like the finest suede, so smooth and yet as my fingers played over it, electric shocks were sent from my fingertips to my body. I felt my nipples harden and so must he for he broke the embrace and took one into his mouth, nibbling the round nub making my cock stretch and swell till I thought the head would launch itself like a rocket.
He turned that long, lean, agile body and his uncut cock filled my mouth as I exhaled a cry of pure unadulterated pleasure. He bypassed the gag and was deep in my throat. I felt my own slide between those beautiful lips as he sucked on the head lapping up my pre-cum. I pulled back a little and let my tongue taste the sweet flow that was coming from him.
I sucked him and played with his shaft and foreskin then raised my head and took his sac then both of his large oval balls into my mouth. .My nose slipped between his pretty rounded cheeks and I could smell the deep maleness of him as I let my tongue travel on, up through the valley of soft, slightly curly hair to that puckered entrance to the gate of his underworld. As I teased it and sucked gently, it opened and let me bathe its soft lining. As I inserted my way further I felt him try to hold me and draw me further in. He moaned, called my name and whispered the order to fuck him - please!
I lifted those long legs and found his asshole; my cock, leaking as it did so, stroked the saliva soaked rosebud and with the slightest of pressure began the journey into the tunnel of pleasure. He reached for my head and buried his tongue in my mouth. In almost slow motion we blended the one into the other. The only sounds were faint whimpering echoes of pure joy, till I was deeply, completely buried in him and reaching further; his cock lay up my stomach leaking stickiness.
With a sudden urgency and animal cries we fucked. My prick travelled deep into him, withdrew and plunged hard back in again through the firm gripping fingers of muscle that were demanding seed from me. In no time I was obeying his command. Spunk shot from me deep into his gut to be followed by the sudden spurting of his own up between us shortly afterwards. And with mouths locked together we found we didn't detumesce but stayed hard, demanding and needing more.
I had just fucked him in what was probably the best coupling I had ever had in my twenty year old life and my shorter but somewhat thicker cock was still buried stiffly in him despite having just cum and flooded his gut. Our bellies were glued together by his semen, for he had cum too and as our tongues lazily played over each other's lips. I could feel him milk my cock for the very last drop of my juice; it was like a 240 volt charge to the rest of me transmitted via my testing rod.
We slowly pulled apart. He ducked down, took my cock in his mouth and despite my cries cleaned me. Then licking some of his own cum off my chest he kissed me again and we shared all those tastes of each other. We were so comfortably wrapped together that I felt I could slip into an ecstatic coma but he had other ideas.
"I want to fuck you, now." He whispered
"But not here. You fuck me in my bed. I want fuck you in yours." His smile lit up his face and those beautiful eyes flashed. He was out of the bed and had lifted me into his arms. "Show me the way."
I stood, took his hand and naked as we were, silently led him out of his room down the corridor, up a couple of shallow stairs, across a landing and into my room with the balcony overlooking the sea. We met no one, though I doubt we would have noticed them if we had.
"Ah, you have a shower!" He tugged me into the small en suite bathroom. "Share one with me."
Together we let the water splash over us as we kissed and gently played. I soaped his back and let my hands cross in front of him to lift and caress his great balls and half-hard cock. In his time he knelt and kissed my cockhead teasing the piss-slit while he douched me with warm water. Eventually we dried ourselves and without losing touch made our way across to the bed in an aura of sex-love-lust.
We hugged, kissed and felt each other, stroking and touching every part of us. I sucked his toes and massaged his feet; he nibbled my lobes and tongued my ear.
I sucked on his foreskin and laved his rigid cock. I felt his tongue force its way up into me. He rimmed me until my hole was begging to be filled. With my legs over his shoulders he slipped his saliva slick shaft slowly and steadily into me slipping past my sphincter and snuggling up until I felt those beautiful cum-filled balls pressing against me. He started slow and then got wilder. He ploughed into my passage as though determined to go further than anyone had ever gone before. I squeezed him and rode the tempest. I wanted to cum. I could feel him building and then he cried he was cumming, and it was pouring in great clotted spurts up inside me. I held him and wanked until in moments I was covering both of us with streamers of my cum. Our cries should have wakened the hotel and possibly they did, but when he fell on top of me and we lay panting, almost silent and delirious in lust; the only other sound was the gentle susurration of the waves on the beach below the balcony.