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This is a work of fiction and depicts fictional sexually explicit activity. If you are offended by this type of material, are underage, or if it is illegal for you to possess this type of material in any way where you are located, stop reading it now.
I am bisexual. I suppose the only thing that sets me apart from millions of other bisexual men could be the fact that I have only ever had sex with blonds.
Every blond 5- Ax ------------------------ It was my first time in Paris.
Axcel met me at the airport and took me home on the train, and the metro, and the bus. It seemed like we changed every train possible just to get me lost. There was a method to Ax's madness because his parents were preparing a welcome party. I was extremely confused. It took me three weeks to get my bearings on the trains, metros and busses. I avoided switching trains in Chatelet for the longest time because I simply found it too confusing.
It was not my day. Ax carried the larger of my suitcases, I was sick with a pulsing migraine headache that kept moving side to front to side and back. I was sure I had packed some sunglasses but couldn't seem to find them anywhere. But at least I had some horse-sized pills my doctor had prescribed for such occasions.
"Why do you vomit so much?" Ax asked me in French.
"Migraine in the head." I replied while the world spun around me in the sun's angry glare.
Ax looked at me skeptically, furrowing his brows and said "I have never heard of this."
Ax watched me while I puked into the Seine. After what seemed like an eternity, we got to his family's apartment near the Eiffel Tower. The apartment was in an very old building that had been renovated about ten years earlier. It was a really nice home. The weather was wonderful, but I crashed for a few minutes (there was a party for me) as soon as I unpacked my bags. I liked parties back then (now, only if they involve cake and ice cream). I was really pleased that I wound up having a room with a private toilet to myself. It was a guest room filled with heavy antique furniture. I had arrived with no expectations and was bowled over by goodwill and love in a few short hours.
Ax's mother brought me an ice bag, consulted a thick medical tome and eventually satisfied everyone's curiosity about migraine headaches. As far as migraines go, that one didn't last too long. I was much better by the next morning, (after I found my sunglasses) though I did suffer through the party.
Ax had a crazy mop of blond hair, full lips, a penchant for turtleneck sweaters, a solid chest, and muscular stomach. Ax was four months younger than me and enjoyed playing football, snow skiing, cycling and taking judo. We got along great. He introduced me around to a lot of his friends and we hiked all over Paris for a few weeks after his classes ended. I started to take judo with Ax, but I haven't kept with it over the years like he has.
I spoke (or thought I spoke) French fluently. I did not. Ax quickly taught me all the swear words, slang, and more. He did a double-take checking out my circumcised dick while I changed before bed one night. We hung out in my room a lot because it was larger than his.
Ax was my first sexual experience in Europe. The first time we had sex was the night Ax watched a horror movie on the television in my bedroom. It was some movie that involved neither Harrison Ford nor zombies, so I wasn't really into it very much. It was an old television from the family-room that had been migrated to the guest-room My bedroom was the only room in the apartment with a television other than the family-room. Ax was snuggled in bed with me, shoulder-to-shoulder, I was pretty uncharacteristically shy about it. I had only been there for a few weeks but we were already very close friends.
I put my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me to pull me close. He always wore a distinctively musky cologne that I liked a lot. When I commented on his cologne, he pulled my face into his neck, laughing. Then I kissed his neck, licking up to his ear and we began exploring each other's clothed bodies.
We made out on my bed, pulling our trousers down around our thighs, lying on our sides, face to face. He gasped when I pulled his foreskin over my dickhead. I LOVED the way his breath caught in his throat. I pumped his foreskin over our dicks (dubbed-over horror movie playing in the background) and he had an intense look of pleasure on his face. Ax came all over my cock while I was in his foreskin and, shortly, I over him. We were slippery together. We kissed.
The next morning, I sucked him after his parents went to work. It was different. Muskier than other cocks I had sucked, but in a very good way. I rolled his foreskin up and down his shaft with my lips until he would get so excited he clamped his hands down on my shoulders, arching his back and breathing heavy. Then I went down deep, swallowing the head and gagged a few times, which seemed to startle him. After reassuring him, we continued. He warned me when he was close to coming, and I pulled off a little so I would be able to taste him on my tongue. French sperm didn't taste so different, but mingled with the scent of his cologne it was truly unique.
We had ample opportunities while his parents were at work during the day, but my favorite times were when we would lie in my bed watching television, late on Saturday nights.
It was just my first month in France, I was a 16 year old all-over-hardon, and it got even better.
We went to the beach for the last few weeks of summer vacation in Cap d'Agde, France. It was my first time "hanging out" on a nude beach. Nudity was obligatory there. All the beaches I've visited in France or Spain allow toplessness, there are quite a few that don't allow any clothing like this one, nevertheless, it was a family resort.
I didn't know what to do. There was entirely too much flesh bouncing around on that beach. Everywhere you looked there were tits or uncut dicks. I was embarrassingly hard a lot of the time (16 years old, nude beach) but tried to be discrete about it. Ax and his parents had some good-natured chuckles from my moments of discomfort. I could never tan, so I often wore only a blush, with strangers stealing glances of my pale athletic body.
Some people tan. I do not. I just turn lobster-red. I always put on a lot of sunblock. But the first day on the beach, I did not put sunblock on my buttcrack (I had never needed to before). Ow. Even these many years later, it seems like almost every time we get together Ax has to tell that story to someone, to my wife when he first met her "Did you ever hear the story about the red-striped-derriere?" (and once even to a group of my work colleagues over dinner). In retrospect, it really was kind of funny. Ax's mom wanted me to go to a doctor (it probably did look like a medical condition).
We compromised by going to a pharmacy and showing my red-striped bum to the cashier, then the pharmacist, then to a few customers (basically everyone who shopped there). I'm probably still a legend on the Cap. Ax often offers me Red Stripe beer when I'm visiting (even his wife gets in on the joke saying "When you come, we will be sure to have Red Stripe, yes?")
It was pretty embarrassing at the time. When we would go out with Ax's parents to have dinner with friends or family, His dad seemed to make it a point of pride that I show them my derriere while we were in Cap d'Agde, shrugging his Gallic-shrug, and reminding me "You must put the sun cream everywhere."
I wish I could say that I had a lot of really good sex on that beach, but my burned ass put a damper on the rest of the trip. It hurt--or was extremely uncomfortable--to walk for five days. Ax told me that after I peeled, it was the only part of my skin that ever turned brown.
At any rate, I had school starting up in a few days to distract me.