The Boy From Brazil

By: TH

It was the strangest of telephone calls.  This lady who rents me an apartment in Rio asking me for help.  Her nephew’s US athlete’s visa is close to expiration and he wanted to renew it as a student so he needs to get out of the US for a few days to file the application.  Short of going home back to Brazil, they do not know of any other solution to his quandary as they don’t know anybody either this side who can help.  That’s when I entered the picture. They thought of me whom they know only as a tenant  for the last three winters.  Would I be so kind as to put him up for a couple of days?  Besides, we were practically the same age, she added.

It’s true, I have been taking an annual week’s vacation in Rio for some time now and have been staying in hotels all that time.  Just by fluke, I discovered that by staying at a rental apartment, I can prolong my stay for as long as a month for the same amount of money.  The apartment is right at the back of Copacabana Palace so just a block away from the beach and right there in the center within reach of all the action.  It sure would  be nice to be able to keep going back to it in the future.  Although I never had any problem with her nor she with me, I thought that helping her out now might even earn me some sort of preferential treatment, you know, position me on her good side and improve our overall tenant-landlord relationship a bit. So foregoing the benefit of a cool off period to think things over, I said yes right there and then. This in spite of the many nightmares I have had with overnight guests.  I offered my home address so she can compare it with what she still has on file. She let me know too that the dire urgency compelled the flustered nephew to rashly buy his bus ticket and that he was already well on the way. 
The last straw that made me swear I shall never take in anyone ever again was a brother of an old friend who was passing by Toronto.  My friend wrote to ask me to lodge him for a couple of days.  I said yes not knowing that the guy is a drunk.  He started drinking through my bar as soon as he put down his luggage so I kicked him out after he emptied a bottle of whiskey in a couple of hours.  I do not gauge people’s character based on appearance alone but you know, I’m usually dead on about one’s character when I base my silent summing-up on how they handle free alcohol.

Additionally, I am no longer comfortable having anyone stay with me either. I enjoyed my lifestyle away from family and friends and did not want to forgo my activities just to entertain a nephew of a casual foreign business contact. I don’t even remember meeting him at all in Brazil so have no idea how he would comport himself.  Nevertheless, I spent the day of his arrival with the obligatory tidying up  asking myself audibly what was I thinking to hold myself open to the coming few days of what I can only fear as inconvenience.  First, I locked the liquor cabinet, then got the magazines, videos, small valuables that are liable to be surreptitiously carried off out of the way and then did the rest of the usual preparation for overnight guests.

Most of my misgivings were swiftly swept away when Marco showed up. I opened the door to one of the handsomest and hottest human beings I could ever fantasize over. I glanced up to a sultry and lush boy I rarely find even in the beaches and saunas of Brazil, from his dark green eyes, slowly down to all 6’4″ of him and his size twelve shoes. My eyes could not help but linger a bit too long over the bulge at his crotch or on the prominence of his thighs under those just too tight jeans. We definitely were not the same age, not by a long shot.  The aunt must just have been stroking my ego which worked well but only starting now. My Gayger counter was ticktocking furiously which assured me it may not be so bad after all.

Turned out he is a pleasant and polite boy and I got him settled in without too much trouble.  I kept finding reasons to get close to him, casually touching him. I squeezed in back of him in the  kitchen as I opened the fridge and the cupboards to show him where to find snacks and drinks. It was obvious, I admit, and he may or may not have been receptive to it but that’s how I managed to cop a quick feel here and there of his rounded ass cheeks as I slipped behind him and he didn’t seem to mind.

He hesitated to go out to eat, likely thinking it was more imposition, but I have not cooked anything from the ample provisions in the fridge so we really did not have any choice.  I took him to a quiet diner nearby and I glowed with pride when everyones’ head turned around  to greet us as we entered.  Definitely not on my account since I’m practically an invisible regular there.  We ordered and started to get to know each other and he filled me in on growing up in the Brazilian interior.   He has spent the last three years tennis training in Idaho although he still speaks English with an easily detectable accent. When I brought up my desire to be fluent in Brazilian Portuguese, he assured me of his help.

I hoped he would stay up for more conversation as we walked back but he excused himself when we reached home. He said he just wanted to freshen up a bit and then turn in early saying he was tired from the long bus ride. I understood fully and did not feel rebuffed at all. Staring into his handsome face and following those vibrant green eyes with the long black eyelashes batting at me all through dinner was barely containable titillation. Not to mention trying not to show any distraction over the solid muscle of his arms straining the openings of his shirt sleeves. Or listening to that so young and so vulnerable voice.  Why I was longing to turn in early too but for a leisurely uninterrupted  jack-off session.

The layout of my apartment is straightforward.  Half of it is the living room which you immediately find yourself in as you enter and step aside a divider that screens it from direct view of the public hallway.  The other half you reach across the living room is divided by a hallway,  one side of which are the two bedrooms separated by the bathroom.  The opposite side is lined with storage closets closed by mirrored sliding doors. The full-sized mirrors brightened the hallway and made it appear more spacious.  Behind these closets is the kitchen adjoining the dining room  which opens to the media section of the living room. 

Watching another man shower must be one of the surest provider of erotic enjoyment to gay men everywhere, otherwise why would they install an actual shower stall on the stage of Stock Bar, the largest gay strip bar in Montreal that I frequently visit.  I have also seen this staging scenario repeated countless times in other gay venues just about everywhere I’ve been.  The saunas in Rio and São Paulo actually have shower stalls  directly facing their lounges.  Yet the excitement afforded by these contrived arrangements cannot even approximate the intense thrill one gets from actually skulking in the dark and stealthily viewing the object of one’s lust taking a shower.

Just as I got my pants off and my hand commenced cupping around my horny balls, Marco called out from the bathroom. I struggled back into my pants, stretching my T-shirt down to hide my hard-on. I just about stopped breathing as I ground to a halt in the doorway catatonically poised between reality and fantasy. He was standing in front of the towel rack wearing nothing but snow-white briefs and immaculate socks. Now, ever since my early exposure to the strip and shower show courtesy of the Dante, Ramir, Alon and Carlo in the clubhouse, just about every erotic fantasy I have ever nourished in some way involves a man in white briefs and socks. My cock pounded on its own, thank god the waistband of my pants held its head in place. I just hoped that the pre-cum that my prick usually ooze out of its head at times like this wasn’t going to be too noticeable as it started spreading across my shirtfront. Marco wanted to know which towel he can use and what flavor shower gel I would suggest he should try among a whole cupboard full of them. I must have indicated some answer since he picked up a bath towel and a squeeze bottle of my favorite black pepper bodywash . I wasn’t even hearing my own words above the powerful pounding of my own heart.

I know I should have returned to my bedroom or to anywhere else in the apartment but I was struggling to make my legs work.  I could only lamely moonwalk away from the bathroom door to find a spot where the inside of the bathroom would be fully reflected in the opposing mirrored closet doors. Safe in the darkened hallway, I watched him took off his socks and pulled down his briefs and was almost directly looking at him bent over with his round and ample butt above the long muscular legs.  When he straightened up and turned around, his flat furry stomach came into my view along with the mounds of his hairy chest.  He stepped into the shower, waited for the water temperature to even out and turned around facing towards the door to break the water’s shock  with his back first which gave me an unobstructed view of his marvelous physique, the full Monty that I have been trying to x-ray vision since he walked into my life earlier  that day,  focusing on his crotch and into the dense forest of pubic hair and a full view of what had to be quite a looker of a dick and the closest to XXL pair of balls I’ve ever seen. Amazingly, I still managed to calmly carry on spying on him until his face draped with films of flowing water appeared as though he looked back at his reflection across the hallway and must have seen me since I thought I saw a smile, his dazzling smile, then like a zoo monkey when it had captivated an audience, using both hands just then started fiddling with his genitals. And not just a quick sudsing. He pulled up the soft dick and soaped it up until it stood on its own like a fat pipe, cupped his whole hand underneath the gigantic hairy orb and ran the tips of his finger slowly around the underside and sort of worked in the soap suds bouncing his nut against his finger. I was beginning to  fall under the spell of  his amazing thick cock when he regrettably turned his back to me.  Even safer at not getting caught now, I relaxed and watched attentively as the water cascaded down his beautiful behind, from the broad shoulders to the  bubble butt and down the powerful thighs.

A man drying himself with a towel is another pet fantasy of mine, again thanks to that early experience in the clubhouse imprinted on my psyche oh so many years ago.  In fact I have been regularly going to gyms  since settling in Canada equally for the opportunity to watch similar locker room scenery as to keep my body reasonably in shape. When he turned the water off, I thought it wise to quickly and quietly scram back to my bedroom and wait there for him to finish. I stumbled back to the bathroom as soon as I heard him vacated it and began splashing cold water on my face trying to calm down. I stared at myself in the fogged up mirror for a long time. While brushing my teeth I wondered how could I ever stand three days of this guy’s provocative presence in my apartment.  Am I fated to be teased for that long the whole time drooling after him, liable to shoot a fucking cum-load just by looking at him at any moment or am I even humanly capable of cooling it and calmly curling myself around my blue balls?

The light in his room was off when I finally got out of the bathroom. I paused at the slightly opened door. There was sounds of deep breathing - but not the even rhythm of someone asleep, there were groans intermixed with long exhalations. Quietly shifting my angle I looked for a spot where the inside of his room is visible through its reflection in the mirrored closet doors. I muffled a yawp of surprise as I stared as if bewitched. Marco was nude, hand in his crotch, wrapped tightly around his balls. He squeezed and mauled the hairy orbs. He pulled the skin tight making his hard thick cock slap against his furry belly. I jammed my hands in my pants, stroking my cock furiously watching him beat off.

I slowly cracked the door even wider, standing as close to the wall as I could. I stood back slightly so he hopefully wouldn’t be able to see me yet  I could see him. There was hint of street light filtered through the sheer curtains that bathed the room with a somber glow. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness the dim edges of the silhouettes sharpened and I could make out clearly that he had one hand across his chest pinching his right tit. His right hand yanking at his balls, his legs spread wide and bent at the knee rhythmically lifting his ass off the bed. His hips occasionally jerked as he pummeled his ball-sack. He wrapped his huge hand around the fleshy sack stretching it then pulling and twisting it. He let go of his tit, pulled up his right leg against his chest and slid his hand around the curve of his ass-cheek, the ridge just below his balls. There was still enough light for me to clearly see the shadowed crack he was slowly caressing. He pumped against his hand, his beautiful boy body thrashing on the bed.

Before I realized what was happening I felt a spurt of jizz shot onto my belly. I let out an involuntary moan as my over-heated cock grew thick in my hand. I cupped the bloated head in my fingers and exploded. My cum-load filled the palm of my hand, overflowing through my fingers. I peeked at Marco hoping he hadn’t heard me. His eyes were still closed, his hand a blur on his balls and he had a finger crammed to the knuckle up his ass. His erect cock bounced spritely against his belly as he pulled back and forth on his swollen balls. With one last vigorous tug, his dick loomed erect and began spewing jet after jet of thick cream up in the air. He then pumped the spurting shaft to splatter even more of his load everywhere. As the spasming subsided, he held his stiff cock by the base, the towering column pointed straight up. He then squeezed it up and milked the last of his cum-load from his cock-lips, the juice oozing out thickly. He scooped up some with his fingers and brought it to his mouth. My cock hardened even more as I watched him traced his lips first with his semen soaked fingers before slurping on them. Then I saw a glint of light reflected in his eyes then the brilliant shine of his white teeth as he directed a smile in my direction.

I feebly shuffled into my room in a daze. Had he really seen me or was I just imagining it? Ay ay ay, how the hell  are we going to face each other in the morning? I was agitated and trembling as I stripped off my clothes with difficulty and slid into bed. It took a long time for the bounding of my chest to subside. The scenes of his hot jerk-off kept replaying in my mind. All my bawdy brain could see was his huge dick spurting load after load of that thick cream. Finally I drifted off, my hand cupped around my balls.

I woke early the next morning. I had my usual morning hard-on that stiffened further as soon as I heard Marco‘s movements around the apartment. I fought an insistent urge to jerk myself off only because I had to take a piss. Taking no chances, I slipped on a pair of boxers and jeans. I almost made it to the bathroom when… “Mel, can you show me how to make coffee with this?” he heard me coming out of my room and bellowed from the kitchen.

Already in a foul mood from not getting a decent nights sleep, I wearily made my way to the kitchen to help make coffee. My disposition brightened and my softening cock leapt as I stood in the doorway. Marco stood at the counter with his back to me. I once more stared at the broad shoulders down his strongly muscled back where a thin line of hairs made a bee-line southward. I guessed the disappearing tufts spread across his high globed ass-cheeks that were covered by his white briefs. His thighs, covered with the same dark down, were slightly splayed. I bent down on the pretext of picking something off the floor just so I could catch a glimpse of the bulging bulk of his balls.

I shook myself out of my raunchy reverie and set about making us coffee. He watched me nearly hanging over my right shoulder as I explained what I was doing. He stood so close I bumped a few times against the mass of his thighs and pecs and I could smell him,  his musky body odor spiced now with the scent of black pepper bodywash. I turned to get the filters from the cabinet and stumbled over his foot. I put my hand against his chest as his arm slipped around my waist to steady me. I felt my face flushed and reddened and I could feel the sweat trickling slowly down my sides. My cock hardened into an iron  rod in my shorts and felt just about it blasted off. I finished making the coffee and excused myself and headed for the bathroom.

I still had to eagerly and quickly pee but, damn, no easy task with a raging hard-on too with no intention of letting up. Bending my legs, I force aimed my stiff cock painfully down, then I squeezed my bladder to empty itself. By the time I rejoined him my painful hard-on had subsided somewhat.

I took the chair at the head of the couch where he lay reading the paper. This position was perfect for me to stare at him without him seeing me. I marveled at the magnificent mounds of his pecs with swirls of hair circling the quarter-sized areolae; the wide, dark streak thinning down his torso, thickening to a forested swirl over his six-packed belly trailing down to the hidden thicket under his shorts. But people can sense it when they are being watched.  He threw his arms over his head and bared the nest of pit-hairs which made me wished I was closer and hovering over it, close enough to catch a whiff. I could almost taste the salty sweat beginning to trickle from his wet pits too.

His seemingly unselfconscious shameless display was having the expected unavoidable effect on me. My hard cock ached painfully in my tight shorts. I stared at his crotch, the well-defined head of his meat straining his shorts. The more I imagined what that lump looks like now, squaring it against the moments last night when he was under the shower soaping it to semi-hardness to when I caught him in bed as it shot white spunk splattered repeatedly across the tight belly and got caught through the thick hair, the painfully closer to the edge of shooting a load I got.

I went to my room, struggling as I pealed off my tight jeans and boxers. I couldn’t resist fingering my cock, coaxing threads from the pre-jizz  beading on the peehole  with the tip of my index finger which I then licked, sucked and savored, imagining it was Marco’s. I pulled out the length of cord that was cut and knotted for one specific purpose. I pulled my  cock and balls through the loop and pulled it tight. My dick stood stiff as a board. I winced with pleasure as I wound it firmly around my shaved balls. That would keep me hard and dripping. I slung over a robe, wrapped the folds in front and tightened the sash just at the rim of my cockhead to keep my dick from peeking out. I went back to the living room.

Marco had gotten up for more coffee and came in behind me. I wondered what he would think if he knew the thoughts that were running wildly through my mind. After he laid down again, I caught a dramatic change. The soft lump on his crotch has turned now to a thick log pointing diagonally to the right side of his belly. The promisingly outlined cock-head aimed menacingly toward me.

“Pew,” he let out under his breath, “it starts really getting hot here early huh?” He breathed deeply, his chest expanding. He rubbed his belly in wide slow circles. My cock jerked as he circled each tit, palm raking across the jutting nubs. He pinched his left tit, tugging and twisting the peaked nipple. With each tug, the outline of his swelling cock leapt inside his shorts.  A  wet spot spread at the tip.

“I feel what you mean” I agreed.

It was obvious it was not conversation we were trying to strike. He reached between his legs and slipped his hand though the leg hole of his underwear. He cupped his nuts, giving them a firm yank. His dick stood up, tenting the shorts. The thick shaft separated a few inches above his belly, the stretched elastic slid down exposing the engorged mushroom cap. I watched as the bloated piss-slit winked open, then a bead of pre-cum gathered and dribbled out. One hand alternated between his tits, the other hidden deep in his crotch as he mauled his nuts. I shivered in my chair watching as the shorts slid down and inch by inch his bulky shaft, thick and dark with lust, emerged.

I parted my robe and slipped my hand tightly around my own throbbing erection to fight the urge to cum. He glanced up at me and smiled. He sat up, lifted his ass slightly of the coach and pealed off his briefs. He lay back down with his legs spread, knees slightly bent. He ran his hands up his inner thighs, cupping them around his cock and balls, circling them tightly.

I sucked in air loudly. He had a woven ribbon of leather formed into a cock-ring around his balls and up around the base of the shaft. He circled his hairy sac with a thumb and middle finger and pulled hard while he traced a finger of his other hand up the swollen vein along his huge cock-pole. He spread the leaked pre-jizz around the flaring helmet until it was glazed completely and shone slippery and wet. He alternated between stroking his cock and pinching his stiff nipples as he continued massaging his balls. His cock finally won. His large hand could grasped it only partially around and slowly began caressing, tugging at his turgid tool with that old familiar stroke we all are masters of.

I got up behind him and feigning hesitation, gingerly placed my hands on his chest. He let out a loud sigh that must have meant “he gets it at last” or may be more like, please oh please proceed. I quickly knelt down on the carpet to face him and traced my hands lightly around his chest circling the dark ring around his nipples. I gripped the tough knobs with both my thumbs and index fingers and lightly pulled at them all the while rolling them firmly between the tips of my fingers. He whimpered like a pup. I yanked again and again until a thick gob  of liquid pearl shot from his cock and landed just below his neck leaving a thick trail on his belly and chest of its trajectory.

I lowered myself over him, still gripping his outstanding tits, to lick the sweet-sticky trail of jizz that he let out.  He pulled tight on his balls while thrusting his hips forward. The head of his cock bounced against my ear.   After licking down his lower chest, I leaned even lower and forward until my cock rested along the back of his head. He raised his head up closer to me to rub against my hard shaft. His short hair tickled and caressed my tender meat.

I released his tits to run my hands along his solid thighs. His legs spread as I lightly pawed between them, slowly circling closer and closer to his hairy groin. He grabbed my waist twisting me roughly. His tongue flicked back and forth over my balls. I grasped the fat base of his shaft, the stiffness sticking straight up in the air. Slowly, lowering my face to it, I teased the reddened slit with my tongue first. With my lips forming a tight ring, I sucked in the swollen head. He moaned loudly, my balls crushed against his mouth feeling the vibration from his throat. He tried to force more of his shaft into my mouth but my lips gripped the spongy rim of his monster fuck pole. The taste of his freely flowing pre-cum and the clean musky smell of his crotch drove me nuts. I slowly inched my way down his shaft trying not to gag as his horse cock filled my throat. I finally had to pull back for a quick breath of air before sliding my mouth back down again and then once more at his rigid fuckflesh until the thick bristles of hair covering his heavy balls finally tickled my nose.

Holding my waist he slid me down further on his face quickly licking at the sensitive ridge between my balls and asshole. My cock swam through the dense patch of hair between his pecs lubed by his sweat and the copious pre-cum oozing out of my swollen cock-lips. He roughly pulled apart my ass cheeks and I felt the hot gust of his breath against my hole. I pushed back against his face planting myself on his tongue. He licked and slurped at my tight ass-lips as he continued to fuck my face, rapidly thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth.

Sensing he was getting close, I let his cock slip and hovered over him to lick his balls, the sweaty skin tightly held by the woven harness. Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I gobbled the hairy orbs. I squeezed the sensitive sack with my lips. I muffled his yelp by shoving my ass back into his face. My hands slid around his legs and massaged the hairy buns. My fingers searched the sweaty cleft for the puckered ring and sank into the hot channel. His arms circled my waist in a crushing bear hug; he began humping against me, fucking the finger I had buried up his ass and rubbing his raging cock against my chest. I knew I had to do something soon or we were both going to lose our loads. I wetly sucked on his thick meat, covering the gleaming shaft with spit. I forced him to let go and hovered above him.

I positioned his cock head against the opening to my chute and slowly, cautiously slid down. His thick cock spread me wide open, painfully at first as I strained to take the full nine inches. It seemed to take forever but his cock hair still hadn’t brushed up against my ass cheeks. I let out a long sigh when I finally hit its hilt. I started to gradually lift and slide along the shaft until I was bouncing furiously up and down on top of him. I could feel every twitch and throb of his cock inside me,  the sensation his fat head pulsating deep within me intensified the pleasure I felt.

He maneuvered us around, his cock briefly slipping out my stretched hole until I was on my back, then he savagely plunged back once more. I groaned at the suddenness. He stopped momentarily and held me. His tongue caressed my neck, nibbled at my ear and explored  the inside of my mouth and then strongly sucked the breath  out of me making me forget the subsiding pain.

The moans of delight I was steadily letting out let Marco know I am approaching the threshold to paradise.  He then put his hands under my knees and pushed my legs back. I leaned forward and simultaneously locked my lips around a stiff tit and grasped his heavy nuts. He began to hammer my ass without restraint, precision bombing my tender hole. He pumped his full length in and out of my burning tunnel. Clamping my ass muscles around his dick, I began to grind against him furiously. Sweat soaked both our bodies making us glimmer and glow against each other.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, here it comes!” He finally started chanting as he jabbed in rapid fire pelvic movements just a few inches of his cock in and out my sensitive chute. Suddenly slowing down to discernible thrusts ramming all the way into me, I felt his prick powerfully swell inside me just before he let out a low muffled groan and thick blast after blast filled my gut with his creamy  hoard of heat. The last of his spasms sent me over the edge. My cock throbbed and sent out a thick spray of spunk that splattered over my chest in sticky, hot slops. I cried out and my ass ring tensed around his dick as I squirted another load again and again into the air, his still wildly pulsating prick coaxing the last drops from my emptied balls.

Marco collapsed on top of me, our bodies squeezing my cum, spreading it out and gluing us together. He kissed me gently and slowly pulled out, his still swollen cock falling with a wet slap across his thigh. We remained thus, frozen for what felt like forever.

END