Date: Thu, 29 Nov 2001 00:50:46 +0000
From: skaar skaar <skaaroz@hotmail.com>
Subject: 'Boy Narcissus' - Gay male - Older/Younger - Part I

At thirteen, I'd never considered myself to be good looking or, for that
matter, not good looking. It was simply something I'd never thought about.
But, with light brown hair with naturally sun-bleached golden highlights, a
year-round bronzed tan and a large chest, easily my best and most noticeable
feature, I probably stood out among my peers - shorter, perhaps, but
definitely more muscular and defined for my age.

I loved the beach, so it was never a burden to spend the Summer months with
my grandmother at her beachside home while my parents worked in the city.
The living was easy, the atmosphere relaxed and it was just a short walk to
the quiet beach used only by the few who lived in the small cluster of
shacks in the dunes.

As a child, my grandmother would entertain me during the days. As I grew
older and more independent and adventuruous, she'd spend most of her days
painting, leaving me to my own devices.

It was on one of these hot, still Summer days that I decided to ride my bike
along the miles of beaches to explore. In truth, of course, I'd heard that
there was a nude beach nearby and, through embarrassment, not wanting to ask
specific directions from my gran, I set out to find it, the powerful
hormones of my young body driving me on.

It took some riding on the flat, hard beach sand but, when I rounded the
last point, carefully negotiating the rocks, I knew I'd found what I'd been
looking for. There, dotted on about three or four miles of pristine white
sand were bodies - all naked.

I could feel my heart race and my groin stir as I tried casually to ride
along the sand without staring at each new and fascinating sight beside me.
In the high dunes above, I could see the nut-brown forms of others, all men,
all naked, strolling or standing, surveying the beach and their surrounds.
It was as exhiliarating as it was terrifying.

After some time, I reached the end of the beach, quite some distance from
the nearest person sunbaking. I laid my bike down and rested high on the
beach at the foot of the dunes in the soft, dry sand, wondering what to do
next. My hairless groin felt on fire and my throbbing cock felt like it
would burst.

I looked around for some time to ensure I was alone before wheeling my bike
up into the dunes. Finding a spot between some of the sparse scrub and
grasses, I laid down my bike, and took off my T-shirt, followed quickly by
my shorts, but leaving my briefs on. I stood facing the sun and ran my hands
over my large pecs, down my washboard stomach to my hard-on which I brushed
lightly with my hands. One more glance around to make sure I was alone, and
I quickly pushed my briefs down before I changed my mind, releasing my hard
boycock like a spring, and kicking my underwear aside. The sun's heat licked
and caressed my hairless young body, its warmth heightening the fire in my
groin. I stood, head thrown back, eyes closed, like a young sun God
worshipping the golden disc and allowing it to worship me.

"Magnificent", said a voice quietly beside me, causing me to jump. It was a
man, perhaps in his 60s, with white hair, deep brown leathery skin and the
longest, most pendulous cock I could ever have imagined. Instinctively, I
reached for my underwear.

"Don't", he said, in a soft and calming voice. "Beauty should be celebrated,
not hidden". And, with that, he took a step closer.

I felt my face burn with embarrassment. There I was, standing stark naked,
with the biggest hard-on of my life, in front of a man, also naked, who was
acting as if this was the most natural and everyday occurence.

"Let me drink your beauty", he said, raising one hand and gently caressing
my honey-brown locks. "So soft", he said, moving his hand down one side of
my face. "So smooth", he said, moving his hand to my shoulder then onto my
right pectoral. "What a chest for someone so young", he whispered quietly,
with awe in his voice, almost to himself.

I began to tremble, both through the excitement of my arousal and my
nervousness at being touched in such an intimate way as I'd never been
touched before. Reading my mind, he said: "We're alone. There's no need to
worry".

He drew me towards him. Without thinking and without flinching, I melted
into his embrace, my head resting on the lower part of his smooth, weathered
chest. I could feel electricity as our skin touched. He softly embraced me
and gently stroked my hair, cooing words quietly that I couldn't make out. I
felt warm. I felt safe even in the arms of this stranger.

Guiding me by the arm, he led me to lie on my back on the hot sand, lying
beside me on his side propped up on one elbow.

"Close your eyes, my sweet Adonis, and let me adore every inch of your
beauty". I complied and felt the gentle caress of his fingers along my
cheek, over my lips, down my neck to my nipples which he circled languidly
with one finger. "Magnificent" he said, barely audibly, "Exquisite". I felt
my heart pound with excitement and pride that this man of such years could
find me so attractive that he'd want to touch my young body so gently and so
lovingly. The light touch of his fingers continued to my groin and inner
thighs while he leant over and ever so gently kissed my cheek, followed by
my lips, then my chest and nipples. My cock throbbed mercilessly with
excitement and trepidation. His hand gently cupped my low-hanging balls
whilst his lips gently kissed my rock-hard boy erection, its virgin-pink
head bright and shiny in the hot sun. "Perfection" he said, again almost to
himself. "Sweet perfection".

I felt a spasm through my body; an involuntary contraction from deep in the
core of my being. It felt like I was about to burst. I looked down, past the
head of the man adoring my young form, to see a thin, watery fluid on my
golden brown stomach. "Perfection", said the man again, gently licking the
wetness.

A sound. A rustle of bushes. The man jumped and I leapt to my feet. Without
thinking, I grabbed my clothes and my bike and headed down the slopes to the
beach, dressing and fumbling as I went. I leapt on my bike and cycled off in
a panic, my heart thumping, my cock now limp, cold and wet.

I glanced back over my shoulder to see the man atop the dunes, one hand
raised, not in a wave, but in a kind of salute.

                                  *

I couldn't sleep. The events of the day had me tossing and turning, my young
cock as hard as steel.

'He said I was beautiful'. The thought kept going through my head, along
with the way he worshipped my small muscular frame. I smiled to myself. 'He
said I was beautiful'. My chest felt like it would burst with pride.

                                  *

I rode the beach four times, looking everywhere. No sign. Not even standing
at the top of the dunes. Dejected, I returned to the spot I had chosen the
day before, hoping against hope that I'd see him. I looked around, but
nothing.

Why was this man so adoring of my body? Why did he want to touch me, caress
me, love me? I didn't understand. I just knew I liked it - not just the
touches, not just the sensations it elicited in my body, but, much more, how
good it made me feel to be wanted and desired. Perhaps I was good looking,
after all. My mother had always said it, but moms are supposed to do that, I
think. What ever it was, I liked it and I wanted to feel that way again.

I spread a towel on the sand. After looking around, I took off all my
clothes, far more easily and less nervously than the day before. I laid
face-down on my towel, feeling the sun's heat immediately beginning to sear
my hairless white butt. My cock was instantly aroused and I ground its hard
flesh into the soft sand beneath my towel, enjoying the pleasure and the
faint hint of pain at the same time. Thoughts of the old man ran through my
head.

I turned and laid on my back, arms behind my head, exposing my hairless
armpits to the sun's rays and feeling them scorch the skin. My cock laid
hard against my flat washboard stomach, occasionally jerking involuntarily.
Unconsciously, I reached down and played with its smooth head and thin
shaft, making stroking movements. I caressed my hairless balls, hanging low
in their sack. Without warning, two spasms and again a shot of fluid on my
stomach. I looked down and wiped it away feeling strangely sated and at
peace.

I stood up and looked around over the bushes. I was alone - a lone
sunworshipper in his naked beauty. My cock hung heavily atop my balls. Where
was my friend? Where was the man who could make me feel so good with a word
and a touch?

Tentatively, I explored my area, aware of my nakedness and exposure to the
world. No-one. I followed a path that led to another path and onto another.
I must remember not to get lost among the scrub and dunes, I thought.

A head popped up from behind a bush. It was a man who stared at me
disbelieving. I hurried on. Around a corner of a thick coppice of scrub, two
men, standing naked, chatting. One eyed me up and down hungrily. I turned
and went back the way I came, hurrying to get back to my safe haven in the
bushes.

I looked back over my shoulder. Calmly, but purposefully, the man who had
eyed me up and down so salaciously was following. Then the first man I saw.
I increased my pace, my legs trembling with fear, the exposure of my
nakedness uppermost in my mind.

At last, my haven! I ran up the last small dune and burst through between
the bushes, stopping abruptly at the sight of a naked man on his thirties
standing beside my towel.

                                  **

Note: Should anyone be interested in learning more about Boy Narcissus'
experiences, they can email me at skaaroz@hotmail.com and I will write
further installments.