Date: Fri, 22 May 2015 00:14:19 -0400
From: Phillippe La Mer <naturiste@Safe-mail.net>
Subject: The Rock Chapter 5

Hello Nifty boys and girls! I hope you are enjoying this series. I know
there's lots of exposition at the beginnning, but all large stories need
that at first.  I hope I'm keeping your attention. Summer is almost here to
it's about time to strip down and get your all over tans, hopefully this
will be a bit of beach reading :)

Like most authors, I crave recognition. In our little online world, that
means I crave email! Please send me your feedback, random thoughts,
heartfelt pleas and other data to my inbox at:
naturiste@safe-mail.net

I would especially love to hear from folks who practice naturism.
Cheers,
Phillippe


CHAPTER FIVE
EARLY JULY 2015
PARIS

	Jean-Paul stared at his computer screen in horror.

He was only thirteen!

Sid had been messaging him, and to satisfy a nagging feeling in the back of
his skull he had looked up Johnny Dûr on the tabloid pages, coming
across a Paris Match article about the births of his two sons through
surrogacy. He'd reckoned the date and added in his head. It couldn't be
right. The boy had said he was 15. And that dick! Bigger than most
men. Good god!

He'd fallen hard for the teen, it was true. But he'd done more than put his
job on the line. He'd put his freedom, something he was certainly not
willing to gamble. He'd have to look elsewhere for his tricks. It was back
to the twinks for him. No more jailbait.


* * *

AMSTERDAM AND AUSTIN

	Robbie Van der Meer grunted as his fist blurred up and down his
achingly stiff teenage dick. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his
mouth, expertly aiming his purple tip clenched tightly in his fist. The
cream shot out, landing across his lip and into his mouth as he thrust out
his tongue. The second shot hit him in the chin and neck, and the third
splattered up the runnel of his abdominal muscles. He opened his eyes and
slid the fingers of his left hand along his smooth belly, scooping up the
spunk and sweat and licking it off his fingers.

On the screen of his iPad, Mike Davenport was fucking his brother Jessie,
hard. He'd turned so that he was facing to the side, and Jessie was on his
hands and knees on the bed. The fourteen year old Texan was deeply tanned
on his upper body, pale white from waist to knees, and tan again along his
calves, creating an effect that Robbie found cute and unusual to his
European experience. As he watched, Mike took a deep breath, pulled his fat
seventeen year old cock from his brother's creamy round ass, and shot a
load across the younger boy's back. Then without hesitation, not to be
outdone by his Dutch friend, he leaned over and started licking Jessie's
back like an eager labrador retriever. The younger boy rolled over when he
was done, reached down and grasped his hard, slim erection, gave himself
about five hard tugs and shot his own watery load onto his belly, which
Mike also licked up, causing Jessie to laugh and squirm from ticklishness.

"Dude! Stop! I wanna talk with Robbie!"

"Who said you could talk to my friend, punk? Your job is to be a little
bottom bitch and take my big prick in silence" the older boy taunted,
grabbing his cock and balls and swinging them brazenly in the young teen's
face. Jessie reached out and playfully slapped his brother's dick away.

"Knock it off! I've never talked to someone from a foreign country!" Jessie
sat up on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to look at Robbie across
the net. His brother slid next to him and put an arm around his shoulders,
looking at the younger boy with a sense of pride.

"See Robbie, I told you he was hot. Not as hot as your little bro, but
pretty sexy anyways."

"Shut up! Where's your bro Robbie?"

"He's already to bed. It's very late here, 2300 hours?"

"What's that, like military time?"

"Yes, we say that. You say, um, elevens of clock."

"11 o'clock. Cool. Well you're really hot and I'm glad I got to see
you. Did you like it?" the younger boy asked, with a need of approval
sneaking into his voice.

"Yes, it was very hot. You are both very sexy. I came very hard. I like
your funny tan Jessie."

"What's funny about it?"

"How it goes from your waist all the way to your knees. Most boys here,
they go to swim in short suits, so they maybe just have a little white part
around the hips. Yours is all the way to your knees."

Jessie peered at the boy. Robbie was very naturally pale with his shock of
white-blond bangs and bright blue eyes, but he was already lightly
tanned. It was early in the summer but his family had already made a few
weekend visits to a nearby naturist pool.

"Dude, you don't have any tan line at all! Do you skinny dip?"

"Skinny dip?"

"You know, like swim naked?"

"Oh, I always swim naked. I do not have much tan yet but I will go very
brown later at the Rock.

"Where?"

"The Rock, that's where we go for summer vacation." Suddenly, Robbie grew
introspective. He wasn't supposed to speak of the Rock, though the place
itself was perfectly above board. But he was still cautious.

"Wait a minute" Mike interjected. "Do you mean you don't have to wear
clothes there? Is it a nudist colony?"

"A colony? I don't know. It's a resort, a camping place with cabins. You
don't need to wear clothes, and you are not allowed to wear clothes in the
pool or on the beach. We say naturist, not nudist."

The two American brothers looked at each other gleefully.

"Wow!" Jessie exclaimed. "That must be awesome to just be able to go
anywhere naked! I thought those places were just for, like, adults!"

"No, it is for whole families. You have all ages of people. Old people,
fathers and mothers, boys, girls, everything."

"Girls? Naked? Awesome!"

"Shut up Jessie. Like you'd even know what to do with one. So Robbie, how
do you keep from, you know, popping a bone when you're there?"

"This is not a problem. It is not sexual. I mean, yes, you see boys that
are cute and girls, but it is like being with clothes on. I have done this
since I was born, I do not think of it. If you get one anyway, you just lie
on your belly or you cover in a towel."

"Shit" Jessie's voice was now full of enthusiasm. "We need to tell dad to
go there for vacation!" Mike gave his little brother a withering glance. He
hadn't told Robbie about his dad yet. Only that he got it on with his
brother.

"Well, I dunno. But what was it called? The Rock?"

"Um, yes. The Rock. Le Rocher, in French." Robbie hadn't ever even
considered the possibility he'd meet the sexy American teen in real life,
much less his little brother. He'd been raised with the safety rules
ingrained into him from birth. You could mention the Rock, but only in its
public guise as a respectable naturist resort. It was indeed occasionally
used a regular first step towards recruiting new families, but always a
step taken by the leadership. He was just a teenage boy, and he couldn't
shake the feeling that he might have overstepped somehow. Still, as he
thought of Mike and Jessie playing with him in the bedroom of his family's
rustic wooden cabin under the pines, his dick started to grow again.

"You must be thinking sexy thoughts" Jessie observed, his high boy's voice
just starting to grow husky with puberty. "I'd love to go there, to fuck a
girl on the beach at night. That would be so awesome." The fourteen year
old's cock was growing now as well. That set his older brother to rise too.

Time for another quick round.


* * *

PARIS

      Le Soleil bathhouse rose for four stories above the Boulevard de
Sebastopol, a discreet building from the outside with blacked-out windows
and a set of tall double doors. Inside, it was a steamy riot of colors and
textures, done in the Indian style á Las Vegas. Potted palms, terra
cotta pillars, and a long narrow swimming pool where Jean-Claude Pederson
swam laps, nude. Everyone was nude and it was all men, but more
specifically all men looking for sex, since it was a gay bathhouse.

Jean-Paul would come occasionally, looking to pick up a twink. He had
erased several WhatsApp messages from Sid, anxious every time the boy's
profile came up. He needed a good barely legal fuck to get his mind off the
forbidden fruit.

Though the minimum age was 18, the club was rather loose with its door
policy; the owner, a slick little man named Mahfouz, had a reputation as a
chicken hawk. The police had taken a few hard looks at him but they'd never
ben able to pin him to the board.

After a good hard swim, Jean-Paul sat in the whirlpool, where he had to
deflect the advances of several older men. He was quite a catch for most
gay men, a handsome well-built man with a head of dirty blond short-cropped
hair, a lean and smooth body, and a sizable cock swinging between his
legs. But he knew how to deflect attention gracefully, and if that didn't
work he knew how to break fingers, a skill he'd picked up as a street cop.

After soaking until he started to prune, he wandered up the stairs, the
marble cold against his bare feet, a towel loosely wrapped around his
waist, to check out the cruising area. A half empty dark video room was
showing porn, a few guys tugging under their towels while watching a
digital gangbang. He never understood those who preferred the fake to the
immediately available real. He passed the entrance to the dark room, with
no desire to be anonymously groped, and headed along the long, dim hallway
lined with small cabines, little rooms that each contained a bed, a small
screen showing porn, and a shelf of condoms and lube. From several of the
open doorways, guys checked him out. A few were quite handsome, but not
really the slim young type Jean-Paul was looking for.

At the end of a hallway there was one door that was opened just a crack,
and as Jean-Paul approached it swung open. To his shock, standing there,
also in nothing but a towel, was the very clearly underage Sid Durant,
smiling a very wicked grin with his full red lips.

"Sid! How..."

"Get in here and I'll tell you."

The boy practically yanked him into the little room and shut the door,
coming close and tiptoeing up to kiss him.

"Stop. I don't understand. You're too young to be here. How did you even
get in?"

"They don't check that closely. I just tell them I'm 18."

"Sid, I know the truth. You aren't even 15. I went online and looked it
up. You're 13! I shouldn't even talk to you!" Jean-Paul made toward the
door, but the boy put a hand firmly on his elbow.

"Listen, it's cool. The owner lets me in here. He knows my dad. He thinks
it's cool that Johnny Dur's kid comes in here. I've been lots of times" Sid
lied.

"That's not right. You shouldn't come here."

"Why not? There's hot guys."

"No. I mean you shouldn't even be having sex. You're 13! You're too young
for it. You should wait until you're legal at least."

"Tisk" the boy responded with a dismissive shrug. "Fuck that. I love
fucking. I don't care about some stupid shit law. If I'm horny I'm going to
cop off with whoever I want. No stupid copper can tell me
otherwise. Besides, you know better. You know I love to fuck."

"Well, that was a mistake. You lied to me. I never should have gone home
with you."

"A mistake? Why? You think I didn't enjoy it? It was hot. I got off, you
got off, what's the problem? No one was hurt."

"It's just... you're too young."

"Fuck that. Who decided that? Because if you ask me, if my cock is hard it
means I'm not too young to use it. Look at it, does that look like an
unwilling dick?" Sid whipped off his towel and his long thin teen cock,
entirely oversized for his slim frame, shot up at an angle. The boy reached
down and casually flicked back his foreskin to reveal his tasty red head.

"It's made for fucking, Jean-Paul. You know that. Screw the law. I've been
messaging you for days because you make me hard like this. I need you."
With that the boy moved against him aggressively and this time his lips
connected, his long slippery tongue sliding into the man's mouth as his
eager fingers rubbed Jean-Paul's cock through the course terry of the
towel. Jean-Paul let him kiss him for a moment, but then pushed him gently
back.

"Did you follow me here?" Jean-Paul asked, knowing their meeting was
unlikely to be a coincidence.

"Follow you? I don't even know where you live. I don't know your last
name. You know everything about me but I don't know anything about you" the
boy lied, convincingly. Truthfully he hadn't followed Jean-Paul. René
Renaud, the Rock's plant in the IT department of the Police Judiciare had
been the one to follow Agent Pederson, calling Sid's dad when he had seen
him go into the bathhouse, knowing the Johnny knew everyone seedy in the
Marais. Johnny had made a call and the bathhouse owner had met Sid at the
alley door, sneaking him up the back stairs and into an open cabine, no
questions asked. It was hardly the most shocking thing he'd ever done for
Johnny Dûr, who paid well and kept his lowlife friends happy.

Jean-Paul regarded the cute boy, his cheeks entirely smooth, his slim body
nicely toned, His thick brown hair hanging in his eyes, his large dark
nipples a bit puffy with puberty, and felt his cock started to rise. Seeing
the towel's movement, Sid reached out and grasped the hardening rod through
the flap and pulled the man's appendage out into the open, then fell to his
knees. He looked up coyly at the man, licked his ruby lips, and sucked down
the hefty bone like a ten dollar hooker.

The soft blueish light meant that Sid's face went in and out of shadow as
he bobbed back and forth, his tongue slithering up and down Jean-Paul's
shaft like an eel. While he grasped the cop's balls in one hand, with the
other he reached down and started to stroke his own hard on, which rose
eagerly from the smooth, almost hairless vee of skin and muscle that dived
down between his shiny smooth thighs. The boy was right, he was built for
sex, no matter what the law may say.

Sid was bobbing fast on Jean-Paul's unit, sucking him deep with a motion
that made the lad's slim, graceful throat bulge like he was swallowing an
egg. He was a head-giving pro, and Jean-Paul could feel his balls churn. As
if he could expertly read the signs, the boy withdrew the stiff flesh from
his mouth and leaned back, lazily jerking the man with one hand while he
wiped his lips with the back of his other hand. He looked up and flashed
that wicked teen smile, then climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees,
arching his back and thrusting up his ass.

"I'm already lubed" the boy growled in an adorable puppy dog rumble. "Put
it in now" he demanded.

Jean-Paul's bone leapt once and he grabbed it tight, climbing up behind the
boy. Sid's ass was even whiter against his tan in the low light of the sex
room, and he ran one hand over each cheek. They were as smooth as marble
and as firm as a football. With his palms he pushed the cheeks apart and
brought up his cock, moving the head up from just behind Sid's balls to
find his opening. He felt the heat coming off the boy's tight, muscular
hole, and his helmet slotted into the spongy little ring, then he gave a
slight push as he felt the wetness of the lube. Without another hesitation,
the man flexed his hips and popped into the much younger male. Sid let out
a gasp of pleasure and wiggled his ass to feel the cock inside himself.

Jean-Paul was starting to enjoy the fucking. Sid's ass was tight and warm
and he was running his hands down the boy's firm, warm, smooth back and
grasping his exceedingly narrow waist. The boy was sex on legs, his
beautiful white butt bouncing as he flexed his hips with practiced
precision, milking the man's cock with each thrust. Jean-Paul closed his
eyes and was lost in the fog of pheromones, the suspended dream-state of
sex.

As he thrust, he realized that Sid's sexy grunting had given way to
slurping, and he opened his eyes. If you didn't lock the door, men at the
bathhouse would sometimes slide into the sex rooms uninvited to try and
join in on the action, and Jean-Paul wasn't entirely surprised to see that
a man had done just this, entering silently and offering his cock up for
Sid to greedily suck. The boy really was a whore, going hard at the
stranger's long stiff member, but given his age this situation would not
do. He was about to tell the man, a well built guy in his 40s with a hard,
lean body covered in tattoos, to get lost — then the man leaned forward,
his face coming into the light.

Jean-Paul was looking into the eyes of France's legendary punk rocker and
sexual revolutionary, Johnny Dûr.

"I see you've met my son Sid, Agent Pederson. I can tell he likes you."

A panic seized Jean-Paul, his muscles tensed, his heart exploded, fear
clouded his vision, and with a garbled moan he came, so hard, harder than
he ever had, unloading spray after spray of juice into the boy's hot
clenched ass. His balls emptied like an elephant stepping on a ketchup
packet.

"Uhnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! Fuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccckkkkk!!!!!"

"Let's talk."

*     *     *

	Two floors above, the bathhouse owner Mafhouz was jerking off
frantically as he watched the video from the three hidden cameras he'd
installed in that particular cabine. Watching the fit young policeman fuck
the 13 year old boy while he sucked off his famous rock star dad was the
hottest thing he'd seen in a long time. He'd promised Johnny Dûr the
video, but he knew already he'd keep a copy for his private collection.