The Story of Philo

The sun rose from behind the high mountains to the east of Teshret. The snow had already melted and the high mountain peaks looked garish light brown changing to green as the forest line began.

Philo stretched his young, lithe body on his straw mat, shivering with the early morning chill, Ely lying next to him, his sisters and parents on similar mats around the large room that comprised Philo’s home. A couple of chicken had wandered into the room and were roaming around clicking and clacking happily.

The young teenager got up, naked, his skin goose-bumped, his dick half-way erect full of morning piss.

He stepped into his sandals and out onto the small yard to the back of the hut. He walked over to the shrubs a few meters away and let out from his man-sized penis a stream of hot piss into the mud.

He emitted a moan of satisfaction as his bladder emptied. As he shook the last drops off his penis, he jumped.

“What a huge flood, Philo,” Ely smirked standing in the doorway and watching, also naked.

“What the fuck, Ely? You spying on me?” Philo strode angrily toward the Israelite, his dick and balls swinging.

“I love watching you, naked. You look so manly, Philo.”

“Oh, Ely, why do you have to be a sissy-boy?” Philo shoved the lanky boy aside and walked into the hut. His family was already stirring and he hurriedly slipped on his clothes.

Ely followed cheerfully. “So it’s today, huh?”

Philo nodded. The two boys were going down to the city of Byblos. It had taken a lot of pleading and cajoling with both Philo’s parents before they gave their permission for the boys to take the day off. It would take them two to three hours of fast walking to reach the city, longer on their way back uphill to Teshret, but the excitement of visiting the big city was more than worth it. Besides, they were both young and healthy lads, and they would be able to spend the rest of the day walking around and seeing the sights.

The two lads started along the narrow path down to Byblos, Philo striding in front, Ely following.

Philo was wearing a new outfit that his sister had knitted for him, especially for outings. It was a tunic of worsted wool from their goats, natural tan in color, low necked at the front revealing more than half down Philo’s smooth and rippled chest, with the straps holding it up barely hiding his pink nipples. The tunic tied at the waist with a cord made of the same wool, and the lower part of the outfit, skirt-like, covered the upper half of his thighs.

Because of Philo’s large penis and hanging balls, and because he had to enclose them in a tight loin cloth under the tunic, the front of the tunic bulged noticeably. When he first tried the outfit, Philo complained to his sister about the low neck and the pronounced bulge. The tight loin cloth bunched his dick and testicles in such a way that the folds of the tunic wouldn’t cover them. Normally, Philo went without the loin cloth. He always enjoyed the feeling of the breeze playing around his balls and his groin. But he couldn’t walk down and around in Byblos with his long and fat dick dangling between his thighs.

“My dear brother,” his sister smiled, “you are a very fit boy turning into a man. You should advertise this fact.” She placed a hand on her brother’s smooth chest. “No woman would resist this, I assure you. As for the bulge, I don’t need to comment, do I? Think, brother, would Astarte approve?”

Ely snickered, standing near the door and watching. He adored Philo. Even though there was no real sex relationship between the two, Ely ached for Philo’s god-like physique.

“What are you snickering at?” Philo turned to Ely, a bit upset, but already mellowed with the pride of his sister calling him an attractive young man.

“Nothing,” Ely still smirked, his eyes roaming over Philo’s body, lingering at the crotch.

“I know you want some of this,” Philo said, grabbing his bulging crotch.

“For your information, my hung friend,” Ely commented staring at Philo’s crotch, “I heard that in Greece you would not be very popular. They prefer smaller ones.”

“But you, sissy-boy, prefer the bigger ones, huh? Greeks! What do they know? Do they have Astarte?”