Friendly Canada-USA Relations

by Paul François

27 Apr 2019 1206 readers Score 7.6 (19 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


In the city of Laguna Hills, California, Beckenham Park not only attracts families with kids but also older people in search of shade in the Summer or some other interesting distraction… On weekends, the picnic tables and the sports field are fully occupied, as well as the walkways. It is on one of these paths that two senior men crossed each other on an August Saturday afternoon. Both turned around, hoping to see the other guy’s ass, but their eyes met instead. They smiled and the slenderer one, accustomed to the comings and goings in the park, immediately knew that he was in front of a tourist.

- Are you visiting Laguna Hills?
- Yes. How did you know?
- Oh, I noticed the Canadian flag on your belt pouch. I’m Kent.
- Nice to meet you. I’m Paul.
- Welcome! Would you like to join me for a coffee?
- Yes, but maybe more a lemonade for me.

Paul followed Kent one step behind to admire his firm butt highlighted in blue spandex. He had always been attracted to men in tight stretch spandex or lycra pants. He sensed that Kent’s invitation could go further than just a drink. His dream was closer than he thought. Kent stopped at the fountain for a sip of water and when it was Paul’s turn to bend down, he felt a caressing hand on his butt. They both smiled again.

- I have a room at The Hills Hotel and a complimentary bottle of sparkling wine… It would be better than coffee or lemonade, don’t you think so?
- Good idea! I accept your invitation, Paul, but I will first call my partner to let him know that I will be home a little later.

Kent had an open relationship with an Asian lover. The rule was usually “Don’t ask, don’t tell”, but once they both entered a bath house to come out an hour later with their flame of the moment and head home to engage in their first foursome experience. Kent could not resist confiding that it had been three times more fun for each of them.

As soon as the Canadian and American dudes entered the hotel room, Paul suggested that they take a shower together. “But I first want to caress your bulging spandex crotch. It really turns me on.” Kent could not agree most and let Paul enjoy his fetish and undressed him before joining his new friend under a large square shower nozzle. As they soaped each other’s back, ass and crotch, their hard dicks kept jolting nicely. Paul noticed that Kent was wearing a cock ring, making his testicles look like two big golf balls. He immediately knelt down in front of this divine offering, slowly but firmly sucking the pink mushroom and squeezing the two meat balls.

- I’m 69-years old, said Kent, and 69 is a magic number.
- I know, my handsome Yankee, let’s transform the bed into an altar of Virility.

They both positioned themselves to have a mouth-watering fiesta. While tasting Kent’s lunch, Paul squeezed his partner’s firm butt and triggered moans of pleasure. He deducted that Kent would probably love to get a thorough long rimming and tongue fucking session. The confirmation came immediately: “I love having my ass played with. And if you also play with my nipples, I will do whatever you ask. I enjoy being a total sub!”

As a leader in bed, Paul could not dream of a more exhilarating moment. Kent’s ass hole was the most beautiful rosette or rose bud that he had ever seen. On the spur of the moment, Paul choreographed a three-move ballet performance: pinch the nipples, bite the balls, dart the rosette. Or slap the ass, chew the nipples and finger fuck the American butt offered on a silver plate. Kent was constantly shouting cries of satisfaction: “Fucking good! Never had so much fucking fun! You are my fucking Royal Canadian Mounted Dude!”

Kent was obviously referring the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP), a federal police force active in all provinces and territories. What he liked the most about the RCMP agents was their high black leather booths, red jacket and brown large rimmed hat. Mounted on a horse, these emblematic Canadian men were always so sexy. To him, RCMP meant Royal Canadian Manly Pleasure!

Kent imagined Paul dressed as a mounted police suddenly more submissive, almost yelling out for an outlaw gangster to play with his ass, to smell the raunchy aroma, to rim the Canadian rose bud. He did not need an order, he mounted Paul like a rutting dog.

- I believe in friendly Canada-USA relations, said Kent.
- More than friendly, my tasty fucking Yankee!

by Paul François

Email: [email protected]

Copyright 2024