Chris' Experiences
Written by Anuttymous, a.k.a. Nathan
Written for Chris himself.
All rules and laws and whatever else you can think of apply. This is just fiction - please use protection whenever and wherever you are. Enjoy the story!
With thanks to Patrick for this idea.
Sorry for the longer wait, but this is my PERSONAL FAVOURITE. I hope you enjoy, I know I did.
Three weeks after my first anal penetration. Matt and I have been enjoying each other's bodies every day since then. When he finally allowed me to fuck him, two weeks after he fucked me, he enjoyed it so much that he's been fucked almost every day after that, as have I.
Now, though, we're going to be away from each other for a week. I'm going on holiday. My younger brother and I have free roam in a separate room for the duration of the holiday. Matt helps me pack, and then we kiss passionately, until I hear my parents calling.
"I love you, Chris," Matt says, "I wish you weren't going."
"I love you too," I tell him, "When I get back, we'll have the most fun ever." And then we both leave, him to go back home, and me to get in the car and go to Spain!
The long -- LONG -- wait at the airport, and the boring flight to Spain go very unspectacularly, and the checking in is almost as empty, except I get a funny look from one local-looking tanned guy on our way into the hotel.
Up in our room, my brother and I unpack all our belongings into the drawers and cupboard provided, and check on our parents. We're told by them that we can run around the place as we like, and go see all the things we want, so long as we're back before 7pm, when we'll be going out and eating. Dad then says this applies for every day, and with that I rush out, closely followed by my brother, to see what's going on around the place.
An information booth for tourists, that's really just a bunch of leaflets, tells us that there's a pool outside the hotel, evening and afternoon entertainment in the "Cuarto Grande", for adults and children respectively, and open-all-hours dining. As I look up the wall I see a rather flashy poster, advertising a carnival that's starting in town this week. It'll be something for me to do for a couple of the days I'll be here. My brother and I stroll around the hotel, exploring all the rooms that don't have locked doors, including the loos and even a janitor's cupboard. The sign on the door that says "Sustantivo" didn't help. Once we've fully explored we return to base, and go out for some lunch, and to peruse the town as well.
Much of the holiday goes as any holiday should, with many hours spent by the poolside, or walking down streets, until a few days in, when the carnival arrives. That day elicits much partying in the Spanish people, and though we don't know what it's all about, we join in too. It's too packed to see the main carnival, but we do see many marvellous things around the edges of the carnival's main site.
When we try the carnival the next afternoon, the number of people is still staggering, but not as large as before. We manage to check out all the attractions of the carnival, and before long are pulled our separate ways, my parent's seeing what they can buy as souvenirs and presents for friends, my brother runs off when he sees a man on stilts, and I run to catch up, as I don't want to lose him. When all awed out, we move on to different stalls and funny looking people gathered around the place. As we're walking by a body painting stall, I stop, and my brother turns to investigate. What he finds is me looking at the guy running the stall, who is beckoning me over. It's the person who looked at me on the way into our hotel. From here I can see he is rather sleek, and has a cute, yet strong, clean-shaven face, and looks about my age, around 18. I find the intrigue almost irresistible, but my brother pulls me ever onwards. As I'm yanked away, I see the guy's mouth form the word "tomorrow", and I know I'll be back, and probably alone.
When all of the family are back together and at the hotel, having eaten in the hotel's restaurant, we see one of the late night shows, though my mind is distant, wondering about what that man at the stall wanted me for. Maybe he just wanted business? Or maybe he wanted more...
My family moving out jolts me from my reverie, and I get up to go with them, knowing it'll be hard for me to sleep, with such anticipation buzzing around my head. But sleep I do, and have dreams of tigers and lions and sun sets and other innocuous things.
The day after brings a late morning, not wakening until almost the afternoon. I decide I ought to see what the guy at the stall wanted, so I tell my parents, who are relaxing half-asleep in their room, that I'm going for a wander. They tell me the usual stuff - be back before they go out for dinner - and then let me leave.
Back at the carnival, I find the stall, but the guy isn't there. Frowning, I turn to leave, and as I do, I see a fairly tall man probably in his thirties standing behind me. It isn't until I see his face that I realise he's the one running the stall. He looks at me oddly for a moment, then brings me round to behind the stall, and begins talking.
"You want a free try?" he asks, in a Spanish accent, that shows his English is probably picked up on the road, and relatively incomplete.
"Uh... Sure, I guess." I answer, wondering why he would offer it for free.
"I think this suit you," he motioned to a picture of a man with tiger print up his back, "Where you want it?"
"Just my arms or something," I reply, not too sure if this is a good idea.
"Why not full top?" he asks, "Take off your shirt, and I do all your back too." I ponder this for a moment, but in the end I'm on holiday, so what the heck. Off comes my shirt, and then I'm moved over to a bench, where he sits me down and gets out some tools.
"This should take half hour," he tells me, then begins using something like a pencil to mark the lines on my back, carefully. I can tell he's been doing this a while, as he seems to be getting the lines perfect distances apart. Just then, a thought occurs to me.
"How long will this last?" I ask, suddenly very worried.
"Oh not too long," he mutters, concentrating on his work, "Be gone before you know." In about 5 minutes he has all the markings done, and gets out the main part. It looks much like a spray paint gun, similar to the commercial ones used to paint fences. He pulls out an orange can from the case I assume it's kept in, and swaps it for the current one. Then he tells me to hold still for a bit, and begins spraying the orange paint on my back and up my arms. He then layers it again, and puts it aside once done. From the look of my arms I look almost sunburnt. I begin to have second thoughts, but I guess it's too late now. Just watch and wait. He uses a proper brush for the black stripes, which take considerably longer than the rest of it. His expertise is incredible, though, and he has my back and arms looking magnificently tiger-like in no time. He lets me look in a pair of mirrors to see what I look like, and I must admit, it's very cool indeed. The paint is obviously special, as it has dried already, and isn't irritating or anything.
"Come with me, please," he says, walking away from the crowd. I grab my shirt, but don't put it on as I don't want to cover up the incredible handiwork of this man. We walk away from the carnival, until we get to my hotel. But we continue walking, to a building farther down the road. He takes me in, and I realise it's a block of flats, much like I'd find back home. We go through the first door on the right, and he leads me to a room, where I'm asked to sit down and wait a minute. I do. I wonder why I'm doing this, maybe it's the holiday spirit easing me up, making me less careful. I don't know.
He returns with a painting gun similar to the one used earlier. I ask why, but he shushes me, saying "Full body better." It takes me a moment to realise he means to do my whole body tiger print, and I start to get up and protest.
"You're on holiday, no?" he asks, "So ease up. It doesn't hurt, you know. Just some fun." I sit back down and wait. He tugs at my shorts, and I jump up.
"Full body," he says again, "You will have to take all off. Don't be shy, you love it." I carefully lower my shorts, and then wait for him to begin. He just looks at me, and then nods at my boxers. I sigh, and strip them off, not unused to being naked near other guys, but still wary of this man. It's as though something deep within me wants this to happen, and I'm helpless to disobey. Being young, my dick has begun to get half hard at being naked with another man, so I cover it up with my cupped hands.
He comes over to me and again marks on me where the stripes will be, but this time he marks them up my legs, and then even onto my buttocks. I jerk at this, but he calms me with "shush" and continues working. Once all pencilled in, he sprays the orange all over my legs, front and back, then up to my butt and all around the sides as well. When finished, he puts it away, and begins with the brush, filling in the stripes all up my legs and then a couple of stripes going across my butt. When I think he's done, he stops me and stands up to my face, holding a brush with an orange pot this time, and begins painting my face, ears and neck orange. Once done, he does some stripes across my neck in black. Then he paints the end of my nose black, and does some whisker stripes across my cheeks.
This time when he lets me study myself in mirrors, I witness the full beauty of body painting. My feet are covered orange, except the soles, and stripes go up my legs, in regular intervals, all the way up my legs until they get to my groin, which is still covered by my hands. The stripes go round the sides of my legs, where they thin out into nothing, so that the backs of my legs are plain orange all up the middle, until my thighs, where the stripes begin to reach further round, with the plain orange strip twisting inside my thighs. The stripes then move onto my butt, where there are two stripes and a third just above, passing over the small of my back. They continue upwards, shortening, until my neck, where one last one remains, until my hair obstructs any more being painted. The orange that goes from my back stretches further than the stripes, encompassing my sides as well. It creates a faint edge around my belly and chest, much like a tiger's belly, stretching down to my groin again. The edge of the orange stretches up to above my nipples, so that my shoulders too are painted orange, over my back, and down my front slightly. The orange paint goes up to my face, where a similar effect to my belly is in place, my face having an orange fade around it, with the whiskers being on my pink flesh, with some stripes further back my cheeks on the orange flesh.
Seeing myself like this makes my nearly hard cock spring to full length, and even try to extend more. This I can't hide, and the guy sees, murmuring "Nice cock." I turn to him, and see that he has stripped off his shirt, revealing a torso similar to my painted one, but his back is covered in leopard spots instead. He pulls down his jeans, revealing legs with the same pattern covering them.
Taking off his own underwear, his boner springs out, hard as a rock, and looks at least 8" long. He looks up at me, smiling, and then walks towards my naked body, growling slightly, like a leopard.
"Time for some jungle fun," he purrs, then grabs my arm and pulls me through to another room, with a bed in it. He throws me onto the bed, then leaps on me, like a big cat on its prey, and begins kissing me. I kiss him back, loving the feel of his tongue in my mouth. I push him away and tell him to fuck me. He quickly grabs lube from a shelf close by, and begins rubbing some into my asscrack. He rubs up and down stimulating and soon moves into my ass, twisting and wiggling, causing me to writhe in pleasure. Before long, I can take no more, and yell "Fuck me!" He happily obliges, quickly putting some lube on his cock and diving into my ass in one thrust, then sliding in and out quicker and quicker, almost all the way. This brash assault causes me to cry out in pain, but after just a few thrusts the pain dwindles and I'm moaning with each thrust, pushing against his cock, trying to get it in my hole further.
The two of us animals fuck for minutes more, me moaning louder and louder with each thrust, and him grunting each time he thrusts, until he begins to rock harder and faster, erratically. I can tell he is just about to cum, and pull his leopard lips down to mine, whilst pumping my own tiger cock with my paw, and making deep growling noises in my throat. He thrusts one last time, and with a roar begins shooting his animal cum up my striped ass, while I start my own big cat orgasm, shooting cum up to my face, getting some on my black nose and orange-bordered chest, just as we break lips apart. He immediately begins lapping up my cum, like a cat with milk, off my nose and chest. He pulls out of my ass, as he moves down, following my trail of tiger cum, down to my softening cock, which he laps into his mouth and sucks dry. Then he moves down further, and begins licking his own leopard cum out of my dripping hole, digging his tongue in even further with each lick, until there's nothing left to get.
When we finally part, dressed in only shorts, to show off my new tiger print, he hugged me and said he'll miss me. I walked the short journey back to our hotel, and went up to see my parents. They loved my new print, especially as it was free. "Good to see you getting into the holiday spirit, Chris."
Later, when I'm going to go bed, I get in the shower, and begin scrubbing, but the tiger print doesn't appear to be coming off. I scrub harder, adding more soap, but to no avail. It won't come off.
Days later, when we're packing up to go home, I'm still in tiger print. My parents don't seem to mind too much, as long I get rid of it before I go back to school. On the way to the airport, and in the airport, I get plenty of odd looks, but I don't mind, because this tiger print is hot. I've been topless for the whole holiday since getting it, showing off my tiger back.
Arriving back home, and unpacking everything, I hear the doorbell, and someone is let in. I don't know who until they come upstairs, and open my bedroom door. It's Matt. He sees my tiger print back, and then the rest of me. His jaw drops.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: From now on, I shall be announcing what the theme of the next part will be, so as to forewarn those who may not wish to read certain scenarios, and also as a little spoiler for those who would be interested.
Chris' Experiences 8 theme: Unknown. No emails. No suggestions. No story.
Emails will be happily received, criticisms, flames, junk mail, I don't care. Well, actually, not the junk mail. Feel free to request or suggest plot twists.
Copyright 2010 Anuttymous
All rights reserved by the author. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author. Reproduction for any other use is prohibited.