Date: Tue, 10 Oct 2006 03:50:13 +0200
From: freudz@hush.com
Subject: Sea fruits from Belgium  (M/b, cons, mast, oral) Gay - Adult Youth

This story is based on (un)true facts. Do not believe the hype
and do not believe what you think is what you do not believe.
The scenery is located at a beach on the Dutch coast. It's a
passionate and consenting sexual encounter of a man and a
minor boy. If this doesn't appeal to you skip this one.
Comments are welcome at freudz@hush.com


Being a free-lance photographer had its advantages. No
employer to boss me around and every day was a dress
casual day.  The other side of the coin was the struggle for
enough assignments to pay the rent. That summer however I
had gotten myself a dream project. The local government of a
Dutch coastal town had hired me to make a photo essay about
their beach culture during the summer months. It was a two-
months project and very well paid. Besides that I could really
use the money, it allowed me to spend two months on the
beach doing what I liked to do best at that time.

Based on my earlier pictures I was given total artistic freedom.
I intended to make a timestamp that seemed timeless.
Therefore I chose to make a black and white series. This way
the characters of the portrayed people would be emphasized
rather than the bright colors of sponsored flags and
windscreens. In those days I was still using a manual Nikon F3
camera. The films were not practical on the sandy beach, but
the advantage was that it was light weight and I did not need
spare batteries. All I was carrying was a small backpack and
my shorts.

This was also the town where I had grown up. How many
days had I spent on this beach?  Some of my hottest and best
sex experiences had taken place there. Like that day when I
was eleven with my three year younger friend and a German
man (Valley in the Dutch Mountains). The sweet memory
made my loins stir. Since I had left that town ten years before,
many things had changed. New were the huge harbor for
luxury yachts and the boulevard with hotels and shops. The
tiny beach houses had always been there, but instead of one
there were three rows of houses.

The culture of the people of the beach houses was contrasted
sharply with the culture of the people at the harbor and
boulevard. The first had worked their asses off the whole year
to spend two weeks in a box at the beach, and the latter were
working their asses off to knock out each others' eyes with a
bigger yacht every year. There was not much interaction
between the two groups, but they seemed to coexist in peace
with each other. I decided to make this contrast between the
have nots and the 'newly' haves the central theme of my photo
essay.

During those two months I made my rounds across the beach
and harbor area like a thief waiting for that moment to steal,
like a hunter looking for prey.  The key to my method was to
find a nice composition for a background and just wait for my
subject to walk into it. The subject could be a man, woman,
boy or girl or even a dog. The beach house people were a bit
suspicious about my presence the first few days, but soon I
was part of the local scene. In order to get their true behavior
captured, I walked frequently in between the houses to watch
the people going through their daily beach routine.

Even though I was a true professional and fully focused on my
job, the many boys on the beach surely made my work even
more pleasant. And besides, they were legitimate subjects for
my pictures and I gladly made full use of that privilege. I
photographed numerous boys that summer.  The pictures were
black and white so you could not distinguish the colors of the
variety of swimming briefs, trunks and shorts. Instead you got
a better view of the way the fabric stretched out over their little
butts or bulges. Now and then I got to see a boy with his
pants off or down and catch a glimpse of his buns or pecker.

One day I walked by a beach club. It was a temporary
wooden structure on high poles. Underneath there was a
large space with a wide opening to the beach. Two boys of
about ten years old were playing with a rope that was hanging
on the ceiling. One was wearing blue sport shorts and the
other white tight swimming briefs. The sun was still up high in
the sky, so the only light on their tender bodies was the
reflected light from the sand. How beautiful it was to watch
these divine creatures taking turns climbing the rope and
swinging it !

The space was quite dark compared to the bright sunlight on
the beach. Taking a decent picture of these rascals without
flash would be nearly impossible. I shut my eyes a bit to judge
if the composition was powerful enough for a silhouette picture.
Through my eyelashes  I watched the archetypical sight of two
nearly naked boys playing. They were almost like a bronze
statue in motion. Because I did not want to disturb their
spontaneous behavior, I prepared my equipment before
positioning myself. The boys were heavily involved in their play
and did not notice my presence yet.

Very quietly I and sneaked to my desired position behind the
boys and brought the camera to my eye.  As I had expected,
the bright sunlight sharply outlined their divine bodies. I went
down on one knee and focused the camera. One boy was
standing with his back to me; the other one was climbing the
rope. The composition of the image was amazing. I already
knew that the picture would be a winner. It was just matter of
waiting for the right moment. Then the boys switched places
and the other boy took hold of the rope. He was not a very
good climber like the first boy and seemed to struggle to get to
the top.

The other boy suddenly noticed my presence and gave me a
cute smile. Even though I was charmed by the little lad, I also
knew that I had waited too long and had missed my shot. I
decided to take a picture anyway and hope for the best of it. It
was as if the boy had read my mind. Just before I pressed the
shutter he yanked down the blue shorts of the boy who was
hanging in the rope. Quickly I took a few pictures of the cute
boy with his pants down and his cute pale dimpled buns. Just
before he let go of the rope the boys body turned slightly side
ways and. I could capture a last shot.

Through my viewfinder I had clearly seen that he had a boner.
The scarcely reflected light had accentuated his hairless two
and a half inches uncut boy tool. The other boy had stood
beside him clearly very amused by the situation.  He had
laughed loudly while pointing at his friends swollen member. I
was certain that the picture would not only be a winner but
would become classic. As soon as the boys feet hit the ground
he hastily pulled up his shorts. With slightly flushed cheeks he
playfully gave his little friend a few punches and they had a
good laugh about it.

I thanked the boys and continued my rounds before they
would notice the throbbing and soon leaking bulge in my
shorts. Luckily I was wearing sports shorts, with an
underpants inside. Their beauty and sensual play and not to
forget the jewels of the one boy had stirred my loins. Besides
this, I also recognized the feeling that the boy in the rope had
experienced. As a sea scout of eleven years old, I had had
difficulty to climb up a thick rope. The scout leader had made
me stay up in the rope until I had reached the top. Every time I
had gotten this tingling feeling in my stomach and a boner.
Once I had even had a dry orgasm and had let the rope slip
through my fingers. The first degree burns had kept me from
masturbating for a week.

To divert my mind and groin away from the boys, I headed
towards the harbor. There were preparations going on for a
nautical fair, which would take place the next day. Luxurious
yachts from all over the world had sailed over there. The
owners and assistants were busy polishing and cleaning their
floating castles. Usually I was permitted to go everywhere on
the harbor grounds, but because a lot of valuable stuff was
moved around, that day the harbor was open only for
authorized people. Normally that would not keep me from
getting in anyway. In those crazy years I was very inventive to
get that perfect shot.

That day I decided not to hustle my way into any stressful
environment but instead to allow myself some leisure time on
the boulevard. At least that is what it was called. The poorly
decorated windy concrete road, with five shops and a hotel on
one side, could hardly be associated with the grandeur of
other streets around the world named Boulevard.  It was late
in the afternoon and rush hour on the beach. I sat down on a
wooden bench to watch the same ritual that I had seen many
times before. Everybody around me was moving, children
were crying, parents were shouting, dogs were barking.

Just as the swarm had come, the swarm had dissolved. The
square I was sitting on gradually became empty. Almost empty
that is. A small figure on roller blades came skating on the
square. He was a cute boy of about thirteen or fourteen years
of age, I estimated. His moves were quite uncontrolled, as if
he was inexperienced or drunk. I concluded the first option. It
was a charming sight though. His facial expression showed that
he really made an effort to control the rolling shoes. I noticed
that he stayed near a lamp pole and figured that he needed it
as a safety line.

My photographers instinct told me that the ingredients for a
good pictures were coming together, and I moved closer to
the boy to get the right composition. Because the square was
pretty much empty, he noticed me immediately. From
underneath his brown half long hair he looked at me and gave
me a shy smile. Apparently, he knew that I was photographing
him and he seemed to enjoy it. He must have gone twenty
times around that lamp pole. Even though I had already made
my shot the second time, I just loved to watch his moves. In
order to balance he would raise his arms and keep them wide
and up. This caused his sweatshirt to crawl up his belly.


The large chrome Diesel buckle of his belt became visible, as
well as the elastic of his white briefs, which were probably also
made by Diesel. Just a thin strip the pale skin of his waist was
visible. He must have been tired because he stopped and
rolled towards me. In a beautifully soft Flemish accent he
asked me what the pictures were for. I explained the purpose
of my labor and offered him some water. From up close I
could see the features of the boy much better. He was not an
adonis, but his brown puppy eyes and friendly expression
made him incredibly adorable. With his black Diesel sweats
shirt and jeans he was a bit overdressed for the beach, but for
the rollerblading it made sense.

I asked him about his cute Flemish accent. He told me that his
dad, his uncle, his cousin of twelve and he were staying on
their yacht in the harbor. As I had expected he was fourteen
himself. They had sailed over from Belgium for the opening of
the fair the next day and planned to sail on to the north of
Holland and return a couple of days later. Because he did not
like boats that much, he had gotten permission to go
rollerblading on the boulevard. He had expected to find other
kids his age, but he had only found a few weird ones. His
exclusive clothes and gear and his proper speech and good
manners revealed that he certainly was not a working class
boy.

Not that he behaved like a stereotype spoiled kid either. As a
former local I could understand very well that there was a big
gap between his softness and the rough attitude of the local
youth. Moreover, he was a Belgian and the Dutch had always
found themselves culturally superior to them. I on the other
side had a special liking for the gentleness and modesty of
Belgian men and boys. He looked at my cigarette and asked if
he could have one. As a smoker I do not feel the need to tell
other people about the dangers of smoking and he looked
street wise enough, so I wanted to give him one. Instead of
taking it he said that he could not smoke on the open square,
because his father or uncle might show up.

He asked if there was a place were we would not be seen by
passersby. I replied that there was a place nearby behind a
parking lot, but he would have to take off his roller blades.
Within a minute we were walking across the parking place. It
was secluded by a dike of about ten feet high. On the other
side of the dike was an artificial beach and lake. Because there
was not an open connection to the sea, the water would
always be too dirty to swim so nobody even went there. We
climbed over the dike and I unfolded a big Indian cloth, which
I always carried with me.

We sat down on the cloth about three feet apart. The boy
asked me for a cigarette and I lit him one. Even though smoke
is a killer, it is also very sensual  to watch a young boy sucking
on a cigarette and shaping an 'O' with his lips to release the
smoke. We spoke about our hometowns. He was very
excited to hear that I lived in Amsterdam. He had heard many
stories about it. Like all foreigners he asked me about
marijuana. I started to formally inform him about the drug, but
it soon became clear that he already knew a lot about it. He
had even tried it once and eagerly wanted to try it again.

Having started to smoke tobacco at twelve and marijuana at
thirteen, I was not shocked by his revelation. When he asked
me if I had some on me, I looked him in his beautiful brown
eyes and asked if he really knew what he was doing. The shy
expression in his face had changed to a more serious one. It
convinced me that he had made up his mind, and I took the
bag of grass out of my back pack. To make sure the joint
would not be too strong for the boy, I put in just a little grass.
We agreed that we would smoke the joint in stages so he
would have enough time to measure the effect. After three
puffs each and some time, he seemed to be ok  and we
smoked the rest of the joint.

We lay down and let the relaxing feeling come over us. Our
breathing got a bit slower, our talking quieter, our eyes smaller
and our pupils larger.  Even though his body was covered by
thick clothes I got a pretty good idea of his  build. Without
skates he was much shorter than he had appeared. He came
up to my chest. Completely out of the blue he asked if I had a
wife. I was honest to him about my sexual preferences. I even
told him how it started many years ago, on that beach just a
fifteen minute walk to the south. Until then I did not have any
sexual intentions with the boy, but his sudden curiosity stirred
my loins.

I asked if he had a girlfriend. He said he did not, but there was
a look in his eyes that told me that he was bothered by
something. In a neutral voice I asked if he had a boyfriend. He
laughed nervously and while his cheeks were flushing he said
he did not. Then I asked him if he ever had played sexually
with friends as I had done. To my astonishment he said he
hadn't played with friends, but with his older brother and a
friend. He was not specific about what they exactly did
together, but it became clear to me that it was not always
consensual.

Even though he kept his smile, it had lost some of it's
brightness. My hard cock had subsided and I felt an even
bigger urge to comfort the lad. Boldly, I asked if he would
appreciate if I would put my arm around his shoulder. Without
hesitation he said he did. I moved closer to the boy and sat
next to him. When I put my arm around his small shoulders I
noticed how strained his back muscles were. He was
experiencing some kind of stress. I was wondering if that was
because of me of for some other reason. For a long time I just
held him close to me. Softly caressing his hair with my mouth
and nose.

Gradually I felt his muscles relax and his body respond to my
caresses. I started to kiss him on the head, down his fore head
to his cheeks and nose. Even though he did not directly
respond my kiss on his lips, he did open them slightly. When
my tongue entered his young mouth I had expected his tongue
to retreat. Instead his hot little tongue was waiting for me. I
could tell that he had little experience with French kissing, but
he showed himself to be a quick learner. Our hands were
caressing each others upper bodies. The fabric of his
sweatshirt was rather thick, so I soon moved my hands
underneath, to touch his bare skin.

His skin felt so smooth. Other than some hairs on his arms his
upper body was completely hairless. He was not fat or skinny
but a normal build and had some baby fat on his tummy. The
sides under his armpits were too ticklish so I could not caress
him in those areas. Because we were in a public space I did
not dare to ask him to take his shirt completely off. Just the
front over his head was safer. Carefully I played with his
nipples and noticed his gasps when I softly squeezed them. In
the meantime his hands were mimicking mine and I felt his little
fingers twist my hard nipples. His uncoordinated squeezes
made my cock throb.

It struck me how his shyness had become less. His sparkling
eyes showed me how much he was enjoying it. We laid
ourselves down on the cloth, facing each other. I had also
pulled the front of my shirt over my head. Passionately we
kissed, hugged and caressed each other. The bulge in my
shorts clearly showed my arousal. The unexpected turn of events had

turned me on madly. Even my underpants could not hide that fact.
His jeans were less revealing, but when I touched his groin I felt
the unmistakable hardness of his boy tool. I looked him in the eyes

and asked him seriously if he wanted me to open his pants.

Shyly but decisively he nodded his approval. Carefully I unhooked
his Diesel buckled belt and lowered the zipper of his jeans, slowly

revealing his  tight boxers. I lowered the jeans down to his knees.

The stretched white fabric of his briefs perfectly outlined the
considerable bulge that his boy rod was causing. He looked so
beautiful and hot in those white trunks that I wanted to cherish
that moment a bit longer. I pulled his body close to mine and felt
how our bulges touched. With a sucking motion and round lips, I
invited his young tongue to explore my mouth. He willingly stuck
his hot tongue in my mouth and instinctively probed it, as though
he were fucking me.

Soon it became clear that he was ticklish on most of his back too.
Even though tickling can be very erotically, it was obvious that he

was a serious case and stimulation of the wrong areas would get us
nowhere. However, I could cup his gorgeous round butt. The flexible

fabric allowed me to explore and massage his buns. I pulled the
fabric between his buns and lifted the elastic band upwards. The
boy sighed. His round buns felt very smooth and soft. With my hands

I encouraged him to hump me. Full spirited he was grinding his hard

bulge against mine.

While kissing his delicate ears and licking the tiny lobes and down

his tender neck, I repositioned our bodies until he was lying
underneath me. I intended to trail down his chest with my tongue,
but he again he was too ticklish. However, he liked it when I
squeezed his nipples with my fingers and bit them instead of
licking them. When I probed my tongue on the lower part of his
tummy, just above his briefs, his body convulsed and his bulge was
accidentally pressed in my face. Eagerly I explored the curves of
his thin coated bulge with my nose and mouth.

I devoured his smell, a combination of fresh boy sweat, a slight
hint of piss and some secret ingredient. I knew that just a
minor stimulation of my cock could make me explode in my
shorts. Luckily we were lying in a position were he could not
reach my bulge with his hands. Slowly I lowered his trunks
and his white uncut boy cock arose. It was beautifully curved
and about four inches long. Above his cock there was a small
patch of brown hair. I lowered his briefs down to his jeans at
knee height and his small hairless balls appeared.

He gasped when I took the little tool between my fingers and
unsheathed his pink glans. I could move his foreskin very
smoothly up and down. A clear drop of pre cum in his piss slit
showed that he could probably cum. I had expected to find
some cock cheese, but I guessed his dads yacht contained
extraordinary bathing facilities. I tried to fondle his hairless
balls, but was again reminded how sensitive he was. Instead I
curled my thumb and index finger around his whole package
and held it tight like a cockring. The pink glans turned purple
and grew bigger.

In order not to torture the boy and myself any longer, I
loosened my grip on his package and engulfed his entire four
inch boy tool in my mouth. Freely I let my tongue explore the
curves of his unsheathed cock and let him slide between my
wet lips while sucking him. On top of his occasional gasps, he
started to moan softly.   How nice it had felt when he placed
his hands on my head and stroked through my hair with his
slender fingers. I turned us on our sides and hooked his leg
over my shoulder. While I encouraged him to rock his dripping
boy tool I my mouth, I kneaded his buns.

I already knew that he was over sensitive for caresses
between his buns so I put a saliva coated finger directly on his
pink eye and just held it there. When he seemed to be ok with
it I carefully probed at the puckered hole. With little effort I
could slide in half of my finger and soon my whole finger.
While he tried to steadily fuck my mouth, I was fucking his
tight hole with my finger. His louder moaning showed that he
was enjoying it just as much as I was. The boys chute
loosened up quite quickly and I could easily slide in a second
finger.

The remarkable flexibility of his hole made me wonder if this
was caused by his brother. Although I felt bad about the
probable coercive aspects of his sexual experiences, his
moaning combined with firm thrusting of his cock and
clenching of his spincter around my fingers obviously showed
his desire and talent for sex. In my head I was already
fantasizing about fucking his tight hole. It probably would not
be his first time, and with diligence nobody would get hurt.
Common sense brought me back to reality.

Until then it had been one of the sweetest sex I had ever
experienced, so why spoil it?  Even if the boy and I would
have wanted to fuck, it would have been very risky. With
families walking behind the dike and childrens voices within
hearing distance, the place was just too hot. We were already
taking a huge risk lying there, almost butt naked with our pants
on our knees and our shirts hooked up behind our necks. It
probably would have cost us at least three seconds to fix our
clothes back to normal. It would not be my first time to be
caught during sex (see: Valley in the Dutch mountains).

The boys thrusts became firmer and his breathing became
deeper. I had to motion him to be quieter because I heard
some voices in the distance on the parking lot behind the dike.
However, the boy was clearly on the verge of orgasm and was
way beyond the point of no return. With my two fingers
embedded in his hot tunnel and his hard boner in my wildly
sucking mouth he uttered a suppressed grunt. His young body
convulsed and I was rewarded with three spurts of his
delicious watery and salty boy juice. The voices of children, a
barking dog and the voice of a woman were very near, just on
the other side of the dike.

Unfortunately I had to let the tasty boy boner slip out of my
mouth, and we both rushed to fix our clothes. In a mere four
seconds we were sitting four feet apart and I was just about to
light a cigarette when a young white Golden Retriever
appeared on top of the dike. When the dog spotted us, he
wiggled his tail and ran down the dike towards us. Joyfully he
jumped on us to say hello. The dogs spontaneous and playful
behavior showed that it probably was not more than two years
old. Not much later the owners of the dog appeared, a boy
and a girl of about seven and eight years old.

They called the dog but it remained sitting with us on my cloth.
Either the young playful canine did not had its obedience
training yet or it just liked us. Soon the mother of the children
came to put a leash on the dog and take it with them. All this
time the boy and I had acted casually, but immediately after
the family had left we uttered sighs of relief. What if the dog
had come ten seconds sooner? My heart melted when the boy
took the initiative to cross the three feet and lay his head on
my chest. In this position we watched our smoke being high
lightened by the red evening sun.

The boy looked on his watch and to his and my dismay he
announced that he would have to be back at their yacht in
fifteen minutes. The news saddened both of us, but then I
proposed to him that we could still make love for fourteen and
a half minutes. He smiled and a naughtiness and
seductiveness replaced his usual shy facial expression. Eagerly
he answered my kiss and let my tongue wander in his young
mouth. He closed his eyes. My boner had never entirely
subsided and was hard in no time. Gently I took his hand and
put it on my throbbing bulge.

Softly he squeezed my bulge, and while we continued to kiss
passionately he slid a hand down my shorts and wrapped it
around my leaking cock. Because it was shimmering already, I
felt safe enough to lower my shorts again. For such a young
boy he had a nice firm grip. With his other hand he was
massaging and caressing my balls. In the distance on the other
side of the lake a group of people walked by, but because of
he shimmer they probably thought that we were a straight boy
and girl kissing. I knew that I would not need much more of
his heavenly caresses in order to cum.

He had decided otherwise. Suddenly he lowered his head
down my body and took my raging boner in his hot mouth. As
with kissing he was not a very experienced cock sucker either.
Kindly I asked him to be cautious with his teeth. After about
five minutes he had got the hang of it and was pleasing me in
earnest. I asked if he wanted to stick a finger in my hole. How
glad I was that he had paid attention and had coated his finger
with saliva before sticking it in my itching man hole. His
stroking, sucking and finger fucking soon brought me closer to
cumming.

While I looked down on his hungry pink tongue twirling
around my glans and his white hand wrapped around my
coffee brown shaft. I whispered to him that I would warn him
when I would cum. Not that I did not want to cum in his
mouth or that I was worried if he would like the taste of it.
Some things you just have to taste more often to learn to really
appreciate them. I did not wanna cum in his mouth, because I
wanted to give him the right example about safe sex. Even
though I did not have any V.D.s., I was not wearing a condom
and did not want to give the kid any worries about it.

When I felt it coming I asked him to nibble on my nipples and
continue to jerk me off. The image of the boys sucking young
mouth on my chest and the feeling of his teeth and tongue on
my nipples send yolts through my body. Combined with the
firm stroking of his other hand he soon brought me to a major
orgasm. My cock erupted forcefully, creating numerous
puddles of cum on chest and stomach. Some cum had landed
on his cheek and hair. With my thumb and index finger I
removed it.  Carefully he wiped the cum off my body and
cock.  Even though the fifteen minutes had passed we
remained lying there in a firm embrace.

Neither of us wanted to let go of the other, but we knew he
had to leave. Quickly I gave him my cell phone number, so he
could call me if their yacht returned to the harbor a few days
later. Just before he left I asked him how it had been for him.
To my astonishment he answered that he had expected me to
turn him on his front side and fuck his brains out. Excitedly he
continued that he had never imagined that it could be so great
like this.  The moment he had said that, I knew he would be in
my heart forever. Our last kiss was like a quick summary of
the day: passionate, adventurous, hot, wet, cuddly, playful,
loving and addictive.