Date: Tue, 7 Feb 2006 09:54:02 EST
From: INSILVA92@aol.com
Subject: Pablo's Story part six

This  is a homosexual fantasy and as such will contain unprotected sex,
which, in this  day and age is unwise to say the least; but it is a fantasy. If it
is illegal  for you to read such material, for any reason, please leave  now.
I'd  like to take a moment to thank everyone who has emailed me regarding
this and my  other _www.nifty.org_ (http://www.nifty.org/)  stories. Feedback
from readers is heart-warming, and encourages  me to write more, thanks.
Later  that day I overheard one of the maids telling my Mother that the
gardener had  got family problems and would be away for a week. I felt a sinking
feeling in my  stomach and just knew Ramon wouldn't be coming to see me next
week. I felt  bereft, I'd just found a sexual partner and now I'd lost him, I
hadn't fallen in  love with Ramon, but I'd loved having sex with him. My only
consolation was my  toy collection and my photos of Leonel. I was becoming
obsessed with a man I'd  never seen and who could be dead for all I knew. I'd got
batteries for the  powered dildo during one of my rare trips to the city with
my Mother; she'd  thought they were for my transistor radio. When I used the
dildo I used to  imagine it was Leonel's cock throbbing away inside me. When I
used the other  toys I imagined Leonel was fucking my boy-hole with them. I'd
even taken to  practicing sucking the smallest dildo until I could swallow it
down my throat,  and then imagining that it was Leonel's beautiful cock I was
 swallowing.
I  think that my Mother was aware of my sexuality; whenever we had any male
guests  I'd eye them up and down and wonder what they'd look like naked. I
must have  become pretty blatant about it because my Mother started to send me on
errands  when male guests were around. I wasn't allowed to go into the city
without my  Mother and if ever I had to use a public bathroom she'd embarrass
the hell out  of me by standing right outside the door until I came out. I
found out later  from a mutual friend that her elder brother, who she'd adored,
was gay, and he'd  committed suicide because of it.
About  a fortnight before my 16th birthday, on one of the rare occasions he
was at home, my Father called me into his study and explained that he wanted
me  to eventually sit an entrance exam for a university back in  England. To
this  end after my 16th birthday I was to go to the neighbouring country's
capital city and attend an English school there that specialised in getting boys
through the exam. I would be staying with distant relatives. I was elated,
home  didn't hold any pleasures for me, apart from my sex stuff which I could do
anywhere. And there'd be opportunities to, hopefully, find other boys or men
to  have sex with. As I've said I wasn't really wanted, I wouldn't miss my
family  and they wouldn't miss me.
There  was a knock on the door and my Mother came in just as Father was
explaining to  me that although I had formal clothes they were getting threadbare,
so my Mother  would be taking me to the tailors on Monday to be measured for
new clothes. I  would need a shirt, and suit minimum, the rest could be
forwarded on to me when  they'd been made. Then Mother interrupted reminding me to
make sure I was  wearing "proper" underwear for the visit to the tailor's; I
think I turned  crimson. Father was taken aback a bit too; he harrumphed,
cleared his throat and  told me I could go unless I had any questions. I told him no
and bolted from the  room.
The  next morning after my toilet I dressed in my best pair of white Jockey
shorts  which were probably three or more years old, so they were really a
couple of  sizes too small. The material was well worn, and the elasticised
waistband was  almost gone. Although I never wore them I put a pair of them into the
laundry  basket every day in case the laundry maid asked my Mother where they
were. My  big balls pushed the flimsy material away from my body making my
packet look  enormous, you could even see part of my ball bag, and they rode up
the crack of  my arse, but they were the best pair I'd got. I'd had a good
wank that morning;  I was hoping not to get hard at the tailors or else my cock
would surely poke  out of my Jockeys. I put on clean cotton trousers and shirt
and a pair of  sandals. Of course I hadn't got anything up my bum-hole, that
would definitely  have given me a hard-on.
After  breakfast my Mother looked me over and said I'd do. We went outside to
the car,  a seriously old Lincoln convertible.  The chauffeur held the back
door open for us, it was Tomas, a native in his 40s,  he was quite attractive,
but I couldn't see any bulge in his baggy uniform  trousers. The 15 minute
drive into the city was uneventful. My Mother asked me  if I was looking forward
to going away. When I said yes she shut up, leaving me  to stare out of the
window looking at the passing men and boys. The tailor's  shop when we arrived
looked imposing and expensive; the sign read "J. COHEN'S  GENTS' OUTFITTER."
My Mother spoke to me as Tomas handed us out of the  car.
"Don't worry Paul, I've asked around, Mr. Cohen has a good reputation for
quality and up to date fashions. Someone told me he fled  France just  before
the Occupation, and that two of his sisters had married minor French  noblemen."

You  can gather from that that my Mother was something of a snob, from
impoverished  landed gentry herself she believed she'd married beneath herself; but
Father's  family's money was very welcome. We entered the shop which was
massive, probably  60 foot long and 20 wide; to the left of the door was a small
sitting area of  tables and chairs. There were several male assistants bustling
around, but  before I could get a good look at any of them a man I took to be
Mr. Cohen came  forwards to greet us. He was 6 feet tall with a carefully
coiffured head of  silvery-grey hair; he was immaculately dressed in a three
piece suit. I guessed  he was around 60, but he looked very fit. I was surprised
when he shook my hand  at how strong his grip was and how hairy the back of his
hand was, black hairs  mixed with grey. After the introductions were over, he
turned and called out in  his accented and slightly high pitched voice.
"Jomo  if you would come and join us please, we have work to do."
I  felt my cock stir in the confines of my Jockey's as the blackest person I'
d ever  seen came up and joined us. He was 5feet 10 with a handsome baby
face, I found  out later he was 22. He was dressed in black trousers with a white
short sleeved  shirt, and I could see his muscle definition on his arms, he
was slim, but not  skinny. His head was shaved bald and when he smiled his face
lit up. Mr. Cohen  turned to my Mother.
"This  is Jomo, one of my star workers, he's been with me for twelve years,
he lost his  parents, who had both worked for me when they arrived from
Africa the year Jomo was born, in a car crash when he was  ten. I adopted him and I'
ve been training him to take over the shop when I  retire."
He  turned to Jomo.
"Take  young master Paul into the measuring room and do a complete
measurement on him.  His mother and I are going to discuss details over a cup of  tea."
As  Mr. Cohen took hold of my Mother's arm and led her away towards the
sitting  area, I marvelled at how easily he'd seemed to charm her. I felt a hand on
my  shoulder and then Jomo spoke in a deep melodious voice that belied his
young  years.
"This  way please young master."
Leaving his hand on my shoulder he guided me to a curtained area at the  back
of the shop. He pulled back the curtains and we entered the room, Jomo
closing the curtains behind us. The room was about eight foot square; the three
other walls were nearly all cupboards apart from a full length mirror. There was
 a chair to one side and a small stool in the centre of the room. As Jomo
took a  clipboard and pencil from a hook he said.
"Please strip down to your underwear then stand on the stool so that I  can
do the measuring properly."
Embarrassed, and feeling my cock thicken, I took off my shirt and  trousers
and stood on the stool with my hands covering my half hard  cock.
"Put  your hands by your sides please master Paul, it's completely private
in here, no  one will disturb us."
Hot  and embarrassed, and with my pulse quickening I did as I was told. I
sneaked a  look down my body and saw that my hardening cock was straining my
Jockeys to the  limit; I could even see my knob! I blushed as Jomo looked me up
and down. Then I  realised that it was turning me on when Jomo had looked at my
body, so I  actually pushed my groin forwards to show him more. Jomo smiled
then without  saying a word he took my measurements in no time at all. When he
knelt and took  my inside leg measurement, the last one as it happened, he
pushed the back of  his hand into my balls, feeling the back of his bony fingers
on my balls caused  the head of my cock to poke out of my Jockey's waistband. I
was mortified and  went to apologise, but Jomo looked up at me and winked
lewdly as he placed a  very long bony finger across his lips in a gesture for
silence. I watched the  light shining on his head as he took hold of my Jockey's
waistband pulling it  away from my body. When he started to pull them down my
cock sprang out standing  fully to attention. As he tried to lower them
further he had to run a finger  under them at the back to free them from my sweaty
arse crack. He left them  half-way down my trembling thighs and leaned back
looking me up and  down.
"Mmmm," he whispered, "you may be a small boy for your age, but what a
lovely thick little cock, and such beautiful big balls."
He  reached out and hefted my balls, squeezing them gently. I moaned fairly
loudly  and Jomo took a clean handkerchief from his pocket passing it to  me.
"Bite  on this if you have to moan," he whispered again, "it's not that
private in  here!"
Jomo  then pulled my loose foreskin all the way back exposing my pre
cum-slimed knob.  He leaned forwards and ran a long pink tongue over my knob making me
tremble and  my cock produce more precum for him to lap up. I bit hard into
the handkerchief  to stifle my growing moans of pleasure. I watched fascinated
as Jomo sank his  mouth down onto my shaft until he had all of my cock in his
mouth. The head of  my cock had gone down his throat and the sensations I got
when he started to  swallow were incredible the best yet. I felt him run one of
his long thin  fingers up and down my sweaty, hairless arse crack, and I
shuddered. Then he  pressed against my pucker and his finger disappeared up my
bum-hole with ease; I  had to bite even harder into the handkerchief to stifle my
groan of pleasure.  That I was being sucked of with my Mother only yards away
was turning me on even  more. When Jomo found my prostate and began tickling
it I couldn't hold back and  my cock exploded in his mouth. Jomo pulled back
until my knob was back in his  mouth and swallowed my spunk noiselessly while I
clung onto his shaved head for  support as my body shook and my knees
trembled from the power of my climax. When  he sucked me dry he licked my knob clean
and took out another handkerchief to  dry it off. I'd just about regained my
composure and  whispered:
"That  was wonderful Jomo, thank you, but how did you know I'd let you do it
and not  call out to my Mother?"
Jomo  chuckled quietly. "I met a friend of yours some months ago and one
night in bed  he told me all about you. When I heard you were coming to be
measured I asked Mr  Cohen to let me do it." He raised his voice to normal. "All
finished Master  Paul, get dressed and we'll rejoin your Mother."
As I  dressed I whispered again.
"Who  do mean? Ramon?"
"Yes!" he hissed back. "Now hurry up or your Mother will become  suspicious,
and wipe that silly grin off your face, you're looking far too  pleased with
yourself."
As  Jomo led me back to my Mother I was remembering my afternoon with Ramon,
and I  got hard again so I stuck my hand in my pocket and hurriedly adjusted
myself  keeping my hand there to hold my cock against my body to hide it. I was
so  pleased to hear that Ramon was all right, and it was no surprise that he
was  still enjoying male sex. When we reached my Mother and Mr. Cohen they
were  chatting away like old friends. Jomo coughed politely before  speaking.
"All  done Mr. Cohen."
"Was  everything satisfactory?"
"Oh  yes sir, very satisfactory."
As  they spoke I noticed a look pass between them and Mr. Cohen smiled at me.
Did he  know what had just gone on I wondered?
"There's just one thing Mr. Cohen."
"Yes Jomo, what is  it?"
"It's  a little delicate; excuse me Madam for being so rude."
Jomo  leaned down and whispered in Mr. Cohen's ear. Mr Cohen coughed and
turned to my  Mother.
"I  don't want to offend you, but you are the boy's Mother and I know that
you will  understand. It seems that Master Paul has outgrown his underwear. May
I suggest  that Jomo gets a few pairs of boxer shorts, much more sensible in
this heat, and  takes him back into the fitting room so that he can try them
on?"
My  Mother actually blushed before she replied.
"Of  course Mr Cohen, I hadn't realised, Paul hadn't said anything to  me."
I  eagerly followed Jomo back to the fitting room, on the way he went behind
a  counter and came out with some boxer shorts. In the fitting room I tried to
 grope him, but he stopped me.
"No  time for that now Paul, much as I'd like to. Take your trousers off and
give me  your Jockeys. And tell me when your Mother will be unavailable to
bring you back  here for your suit fitting."
I had  almost gone into a sulk but I had an inkling of what he was planning,
to get me  into the shop on my own.
"She  has a Rotary Club ladies lunch every Friday, she goes out around 10:30
and doesn't get home until 4:00 p.m."
While  I was telling Jomo the details I'd taken off my trousers and I took
off my  Jockeys and handed them to him. They were already stained with my
precum. Jomo  sniffed them and stuffed them into his pocket. Then he knelt down and
skinned my  foreskin back and squeezed my hard cock-shaft. He lapped up the
resulting  precum.
"Sorry Paul, I couldn't resist that."
He  stood back up and handed me a pair of swimming trunks called Speedos he'd
hidden  beneath the boxers.
"Put  these on before you put a pair of the boxers on, they'll hide your
cock."
I  pulled the Speedos on and arranged my cock, I looked in the mirror, they
didn't  hide my thick little cock and big balls very well, they accentuated
them, but  they held them tight against my body. I put the boxers on Jomo offered
me, and  then my trousers, I looked in the mirror again, and my hard-on was
hidden, so  there was no need to put my hand in my pocket to hold it down.
We  returned to my Mother, and Mr. Cohen assured my Mother that the suit
would be  ready as soon as possible with, hopefully, just a final fitting. After a
few  more pleasantries we left the shop. We drove home in silence; I knew my
Mother  was furious with me. When we got home and got out of the car my Mother
held onto  my shoulder until Tomas had driven away, then pulled me around to
face  her.
"Never embarrass me like that again, you should have told me about the  state
of your underwear! You run around like a bare-arsed native too much. Now  go
to your room until dinner."
I  must have upset her, that was only the second time I'd heard her  swear.
End of part 6. If you have any constructive criticism, or anything  you wish
to share with me, contact me at _INSILVA92@aol.com_ (mailto:INSILVA92@aol.com)
 Love Paul.
Copyright 2006