Prologue:
I thought we were going to share my room in the hotel that night. Then suddenly he was gone. Where he went, I never really found out, but I have a few ideas over the years since this all happened. He had probably gone back down to the bars on the streets of the little Italian town where my parents had tied our boat up for the weekend, or maybe even back to his own room for a while. He did come back eventually though. I never asked where he went, and he never told me. It never really seemed that important, but I am still curious when I think back about this story.
I wasn't used to being able to go into a bar and order a drink, but over in Italy as long as you could see over the bar and had money they would serve you. At sixteen, I had just gotten drunk for the first time in my life, and I think it was the same for my new friend, Jacob. I swear I will never be able to forget that weekend we spent together in Sardinia.
Let me tell you a little about us first though. I'm Terry, and this is the story of an extended summer vacation with my parents traveling around the Mediterranean on a rented motor yacht in the late 1970s. At the time I was sixteen years old, 5'-9" tall, with light brown hair and blue eyes. Spending a lot of time on the boat, I was tanned everywhere but a small strip around my middle, where my short, cut-off jean shorts covered me. They were fashionable back in the late 1970s, which is when this little tale actually took place.
Jacob was fifteen, and looked a lot like his father with thick, black hair and olive-colored skin. He was shorter than I, at about 5'-6" tall. His eyes were the deepest brown I had ever seen, so much so that I found myself thinking that I could fall into them and get lost. He would tell me during our brief time together that his father was originally from Israel, and that's where he got his looks. While his skin was naturally dark, there was a perceptible tan line where his shorts had covered him while he had been out in the sun as well.
Disclaimer:
What you are about to read is true, mostly. The names (some of them anyway) have been changed to protect the guilty... All the places described in this story are in fact truthful and accurate. In fact, having returned there a few years ago, I found everything almost exactly as I remembered it. The hotel we stayed at all those years ago is still there, though it has been remodeled since this story takes place, I'm sure several times.
I would like to extend my grateful thanks to my friend Mike Arram for continuing to allow me to bounce ideas off him and providing many helpful suggestions as well as the encouragement that has actually gotten me this far with the stories I have written. I would also like to gratefully thank all the readers who have written with comments. I really appreciate having heard from all of you.
This story contains graphic depictions of sex between young males, so if you're some sort of puritan or prude, you ought not to be at this site to begin with, and you certainly shouldn't read any farther into this text at all. Shoo, go away.
If you're not, which if you're now reading this sentence now, you had better not be. I hope you'll enjoy this. This story is set in a mythical place where there are no such things as STDs or deity-of-your-choice forbid HIV or AIDS, so you won't be reading anything about condoms except in this paragraph. This should not in any way be construed as advocating unsafe sex.
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Club Med Vacation Chapter One
The restaurant's proprietor, an old Italian man named Bernardo, brought over after dinner drinks for all of us. They were the local liqueur, a thick, deep red drink known as 'Mirto.' Apparently it was made from a local berry that didn't grow anywhere else in the world. It was sort of sweet, yet spicy at the same time. If you couldn't say anything else about it, you could sure say it was potent.
Jacob's family was there on vacation for the summer too, but they weren't taking it on a boat like we were. He told me that they had flown over to the island where my father had decided to dock the boat he had rented for us to explore the Mediterranean Sea. We would be spending the weekend here in this little Sardinian town. I really hadn't been enjoying the trip all that much until I saw Jacob though, I mean seriously, a sixteen year old trapped on a boat with his parents for the better part of two months, who would call that a dream vacation? The first thought that went through my mind when I saw him was, 'This boy is fucking gorgeous!'
We had met in a restaurant that evening. Our families were sitting at tables next to each other, and over in Italy it wasn't hard to tell that they too were Americans. I was lucky, the seat I was in was positioned perfectly so I could look at him, and he too could look at me. There was just something about him that I recognized right off, I guess some of you might call it "gaydar" these days, but I really don't know what it was. We could just tell from across the tables that we wanted to be together. At least that's what I thought. And fortunately, it turned out to be true.
Our parents seemed to hit it off, and decided to go out on the piazza for cappuccino before going back to the hotel we were staying in while we were in a port for a few days. As it turned out, our families were staying in the same hotel. That was convenient, wasn't it?
Well, Jake (as he liked to be called, even though his parents didn't cooperate) and I really did end up getting along very well together. We talked for a few minutes while our parents were waiting for the cappuccinos to be brought to their table and he suggested that we walk along the waterfront and talk some more. Our parents didn't mind that we were going to go walking off together; it was a safe little town on this island in the Mediterranean and there wasn't any real crime there at all. In fact if anything, it seemed like they were glad we were getting to know each other. We told them that we wouldn't stay out too late, and my parents told me to just meet them in the dining room at the hotel for breakfast at nine. Jake's parents followed their lead and suggested that he do the same. We walked off together, grinning widely.
It seemed like it wasn't unusual for Italian men to walk arm in arm, it was just part of their culture and it didn't mean that they were gay. But we were a couple American kids over there, so we just weren't comfortable doing that in public, but I know I wanted to, and I think he did too. I thought I could see something in his eyes when he looked at me and I had this feeling that he could see the same thing in my eyes when I looked at him; I know I felt that it was there, especially when I looked him directly in the eyes.
We went into one of the little cafes and on a whim I ordered us each another Mirto. The bartender served us without question and I paid him the three thousand lire he wanted for the drinks. I know that sounds like a lot, but it was really only about two dollars in U.S. money. I had decided almost immediately that I really liked the unusual taste of this stuff.
The additional drinks were probably a bad idea in retrospect. I know that I was a little woozy when we went back to the hotel. Once we got back to the room my parents had got for me, I rolled onto the large, queen sized bed, moving to the far side as I did and patted my hand on the bed next to me, inviting him to join me. He did. 'Wow,' I thought, 'maybe I have been reading this situation the right way.' I really hoped I had.
Jake lay down on the bed with me and we talked for a few minutes, and I guess the liqueur we had drank got to me more than him, and I dozed off for a few minutes. Okay, it was probably more like I passed out for a half hour or so. When I woke up, I was disappointed to find that he was gone.
Okay, I can't lie, I was really kind of pissed that when I woke up he wasn't there. In retrospect though, I guess I shouldn't have been. What can you say about teenage emotions though? When have teens ever really thought all that rationally about things? I went down to the bar in the hotel, half expecting to find him there. He wasn't - he had probably gone back to his room after I had passed out on him, and I didn't know what room he was in. A few other tourists were there, none of them Americans. I couldn't understand a damn thing any of them were saying, or even figure out what languages they were speaking for that matter, but the bartender at least got the idea that I wanted a large Mirto.
It took me three swigs to drain that glass down, and when I went back to my room I actually had a little trouble working the key in the lock on the door. Once I got back inside, I used the bathroom and coming back into the bedroom, kicked off my shoes and peeled off my socks, dropping them on top of my shoes. Then I collapsed onto the bed. I rolled over onto my back and passed out again almost immediately.
The next thing I knew, there was someone in the room with me. It was pretty dark with just a little light coming in from the street below, and in my semi-drunken state I was having a hard time seeing anyway. All I could really tell at that point was that someone was on the bed with me, trying to get my clothes off. Apparently I had neglected to relock the door when I came back to the room.
I freaked, here I was in a foreign country, I hadn't been smart enough to lock the door to my hotel room, and now there was someone on top of me on my bed trying to get my clothes off. I started to struggle, but then that's only natural in this kind of situation, right? I'm not kidding you, I really thought that it was probably some pervert that had seen me downing that drink in the bar before I came back up to my room that wanted to have his way with me.
When I started to struggle, he finally spoke. "Hey dude, it's me, it's Jake. Relax dude." Did I mention that his family lived in California and he definitely had a surfer attitude and manner of speech? Well he did.
I didn't completely relax, because I still really wasn't certain what was going on, but it did get me to stop struggling. He took this as a sign to keep going, trying to get my clothes off. I had had a couple sexual experiences with guys before this, and it was looking seriously like I was about to have another one tonight with Jake. Things were definitely looking up.
I don't know what it was, call it the paranoia from everything that not only had happened that evening, but what I had imagined when I woke up, so I told him to stop. The next thing I heard leaving my lips, and I really have no idea where it came from was, "You first."
Jake did what I asked though... I felt him back away from me on the bed, though he was still on his knees above me. My eyes were adjusting to the dim light coming in through the window and I was able to see him lift his t-shirt off and throw it onto the floor next to the bed. God, his chest was beautiful. It was perfectly smooth, with small, black patches of hair under his arms and very dark brown, dime-sized nipples.
Then he got up, and standing next to the bed, kicked off his shoes and the next thing I knew, his pants were falling to the floor. He stepped out of them, and then reached down to peel his socks off, dropping them onto the pile of his clothes that were already on the floor. I could make out his legs now in the dim light. There didn't appear to be a single bit of hair on them at all, but I would discover later that there was a scattering of fine, black airs on his thighs.
All that was left now was the skimpy pair of white briefs he was wearing. The bulge in them looked pretty substantial from where I was sitting on the bed. He pulled the waistband out and dropped them down below his balls. He was half hard already, and his dick was sticking out from his body. It looked like it was a darker shade than the rest of his body, but it was difficult to tell in the dim light. There was a small patch of black pubic hair above it.
As Jake wriggled his legs to get the tight briefs he was wearing to drop down his legs, his dick wagged back and forth, still growing and becoming more erect as he did. He stood there naked by the bed looking at me. "Well?" he said.
I had been positively mesmerized by his beauty, and his speaking sort of snapped me out o it. "What?" I asked.
"Are you going to get undressed now, or do I really have to rip your clothes off?" he asked. This really snapped me back to reality.
"Why don't you undress me?" I suggested.
Jake grinned as if that was just fine with him. He moved back onto the bed and knelt over me, seemingly all too happy to do exactly as I had suggested. He reached out and lifted my t-shirt up. I raised my arms to allow him to pull it up over my head and off. My mother had insisted that I wear slacks to dinner with them, and Jake was now fiddling with my belt trying to get it open. This belt had a sort of a weird buckle that was difficult to open if you didn't know how, so I reached down and flipped it open for him. He pulled my belt free and dropped it and my shirt onto the floor next to his pile of clothes. He didn't have nearly the trouble with the button on my waistband that he had with my belt buckle, and moments later my slacks were sliding down my legs and joining our other clothes on the floor. Now I was left in only my briefs. Mine weren't quite as skimpy and tight as his had been, but they were having a hard time containing my nearly erect dick.
Jacob smiled at me then reached down and lifted the waistband of my briefs over my dick, then slid his hands around behind me, cupping the cheeks of my ass with his hands as I raised up to allow him to slide them down my legs. These were tossed over his shoulder as soon as he had them off. Then he leaned forward, stretching out so that his dick rubbed against mine as he came in for a kiss. Our tongues met and our dicks ground together... I think we were both as hard as we could possibly be. I know I certainly was.
When we broke the kiss I looked at him and asked, "So you're gay?" I immediately thought what a stupid thing to say that was. Here we were, naked in bed, him definitely being the aggressor at that, and I'm asking him if he's gay.
He laughed and said, "Actually, I'm a tri-sexual."
"Huh?" I asked, not understanding. "A tri-sexual, what's that?"
"I'll try anything at least once," he explained.
I laughed at what I thought was a joke on his part at the time, and grabbed his ass with both hands, pulling him into me. I loved the feeling of our dicks, fully erect, rubbing together. I would come to find out that what he had said was no joke before the weekend was over though. "So, have you ever done anything with a guy before?" I asked him.
"Nope," he told me. I didn't know whether to believe him or not, though later I came to suspect that he actually had. "Have you?" he asked me in return.
"No," I lied. Don't ask me why I did. To this day I still can't explain it. There really only had been a couple other times when I had done something sexual with other guys, and I had never done anything sexual at all with girls. It wasn't that I was completely disinterested, but I definitely found other boys more attractive.
Jake moved back on the bed, kissing and his way licking his way down my chest as he went. This reminded me of something I had heard about that I was going to try with him at my first opportunity. Then I felt his mouth closing around the tip of my dick. I was definitely in heaven at that very moment!
My first clue that he might have lied about his sexual experience with other guys was when he slid his lips all the way down the length of my shaft. I could actually feel the end of my dick entering his throat. Now if that isn't a clue that he'd done that before, I don't know what is. Or maybe he just had no gag reflex at all. I'm betting on practice, now that I have more experience myself.
Jake went up and down the entire length of my shaft a few times before pulling off and turning his oral attention to my balls. He licked them all over first, and then sucked them each, one at a time into his mouth. When he had pulled his mouth off my dick, he had taken it in his hand and was lightly jacking it while he licked and sucked at my balls. This feeling was incredible! If it went on much longer I was really going to cum.
I didn't want that yet though. There was still so much more I wanted to do with this boy, and I had no idea at that moment if we would ever see each other again after this night together and I wanted to make the most of it. I pulled his mouth away from me, and told him it was his turn for a little while. He made an appreciative "Um hmm" noise, and allowed me to roll him over onto his back.
Now I could try my experiment. It was something that I had read about in one of those little half size magazines they used to have back then where people wrote in with stories of their sexual encounters. Of course, these were all about straight sex. There was no way you were going to find any literature about gay sex, even in a big city like Charleston, South Carolina in the late 1970s - not at sixteen years old anyway. Getting my hands on the straight stuff was difficult enough.
Okay, the experiment... It was a thing I read about called 'the alphabet.' The idea was that you use your tongue to trace out all the letters of the alphabet on your partner's stomach. It was supposed to be incredibly erotic. I decided that it would be better if I did it on his chest, staying as close to his nipples as possible. I hoped he would find it as stimulating as the magazine had made it sound. I'll tell you this much, it didn't do a lot for me, but every time my tongue brushed against his nipples it sure seemed to do a lot for him. Okay, when my tongue brushed across his nipples was pretty good for me too.
I had really probably only made it to about 'J' and I could feel his dick twitching beneath me, so I thought it might be a good idea to pay a little attention to that. I moved down and took him into my mouth. His dick was about a half inch shorter than mine, I figured it to be about 5½ inches. The girth was about the same though, both of them being fairly slender. Now here's what I meant about him probably having experience - I could only get about half, maybe three quarters of it into my mouth before I started to gag. And I had certainly sucked a few dicks before.
I was playing with his smooth, hairless balls and gently rubbing his asshole with one finger as I sucked him. When I felt his balls start to draw up I knew it was time to back off. I didn't want him cumming too soon either. I pulled off his dick and moved back up his body so we could share another kiss. This was a long and passionate one, each of our tongues struggling for dominance in the other's mouth.
When we broke apart, we were both exhausted and out of breath as we rolled away from each other, but stayed connected by holding hands as we lay on the bed. We lay like that on the bed for a few minutes, and once we had regained our breath he rolled over on top of me for another round of hot, passionate kissing. He was rubbing back and forth on top of me, grinding our dicks together, and then he did something that truly amazed me. He rose up onto his knees, and taking my dick in his hand started to lower himself onto me. I couldn't believe he was doing this, I mean without any lube or anything, he was guiding my dick into his ass as he lowered himself onto me.
I really wasn't sure about this, but he seemed to be, so I decided to just go with it. He continued to slowly lower himself, wriggling around a little as he did. I felt the head of my dick slowly pass his anal ring and I was in. He paused at that point and leaned in for another kiss. I guess he needed a moment to adjust to the penetration. That was fine by me; I could have died totally happy right then. After a few minutes he resumed working his way down my shaft. This time he didn't stop until my dick was all the way inside him and my pubes were brushing against his butt. Now this was another thing that made me suspect that he had had sex with guys before - he just took my dick into him like that, totally dry. Okay, maybe not totally dry, but there couldn't have been that much spit left on it from when he had been sucking me.
He put his hands down on my shoulders to brace himself and while that wasn't the most comfortable thing for me, when he started slowly moving up and down on my dick, I really didn't care. We worked ourselves into a rhythm, and soon I was bucking my hips up into him as he moved atop me. You know, they say time flies when you're having fun, and that must be true - I know it had to be longer because we were both covered with a light sheen of sweat by the time I came inside him - because it only seemed like about two minutes.
He rolled off me, and I swear my dick actually made a popping noise as it came out of him. He cuddled up next to me, resting his head of my shoulder. I draped my arm over him and pulled him into me. Jake seemed to enjoy that and snuggled in as close as he could to me. Moments later he was snoring lightly, and I fell asleep not long after.
When I woke in the morning he was gone again, and so were his clothes. This boy sure seemed to disappear a lot. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was already 8:30. I remembered that we were supposed to meet our parents downstairs for breakfast at 9:00, so I figured I had better jump in the shower and get dressed.
Comments and feedback are welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net. Flamers will be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake from me, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. Anger her at your own risk.
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