Date: Mon, 15 Oct 2007 07:27:53 -0700 (PDT)
From: ludi.crous@yahoo.com
Subject: My Vacation with Manny

Please Note: This story is fiction. If stories of sexual relations between
a man and a boy offend you, do NOT read any further.


My Vacation with Manny


	My 30th birthday was coming up and I wanted to buy something
special or do something special for myself to honor the Big 'O'. After some
thought and weighing of options, I decided I'd treat myself to a month-long
tropical vacation. Never been there, never done that. So, a search of the
internet led me to what looked like a quaint little family-run resort
someplace called Beacon Cay, one of the out islands of the Bahamas. A true
tropical paradise, the web page said, and if the photos could be believed,
they certainly made it seem so. I sent an email to the owners to check on
availability and services, and within a week I had everything booked,
including my flights.
	After what felt like an interminable amount of time in transit--did
I mention that I hate travelling?--I was met at the island's tiny airport
by a short, thin black woman who was holding a sign that showed my last
name in neat hand-printed lettering. She smiled brightly as I approached
and identified myself.
	"Welcome to Beacon Cay," she said in her delightful Bahamian
accent. "My name is Winnie, and my husband and I own the resort," she said
warmly. "Did you have a good flight?" I told her I had. I lied, but she
didn't need to know that. And so began her endless chatter as we claimed my
one suitcase and made our way to her car, an old Chrysler station wagon
that appeared to have been very well maintained all its life. She continued
her chatter as she drove slowly along the narrow winding roads across the
beautiful garden island that so far proved the photos on her web
page. Truly a tropical paradise. Included in her ramblings was the history
of the region and the island itself, a lot of which I've since forgotten,
though I remember being impressed at the time by the extent of her
knowledge.
	We made only one stop on our way to the resort, to pick up Winnie's
two kids from school. The car sat idling in front of a white wood-sided
building that had perhaps a dozen classroom on two floors. The surrounding
grounds were well maintained and the flowering trees gave it the look and
feel more like a park than a school. Amid the rush of young black kids
pouring out the front door of the school were Winnie's two kids who waved
goodbye to their friends and headed straight to the car. Her son looked to
be about 10 or 11 years old, medium height, and very thin like his mom. His
beautifully smooth, unblemished skin was the same deep brown coloring as
his mother's and his sister's. The girl was 6 years old, judging by the
missing front teeth, and she had a really pretty doll-like smile as she
greeted her mother. Both kids wore school uniforms--white short-sleeve
shirts and navy blue shorts or skirt. They clamored into the car, the girl
in the front seat with her mother and the boy in the back with me,
chattering almost as much as their mother. Chips off the old block.
	"What's your name?" asked the boy, his gorgeous liquid black eyes
looking confidently at me.
	"I'm Martin," I told him. "And what do I call you?"
	"My name is Manak but everyone calls me Manny. You can, too, if you
want." Manny never broke his gaze as he spoke with confidence. "My sister's
name is Molida, but we call her Molly." Molly turned around in the front
seat and gave me a bright smile. I said hi to her and she returned a shy
hello that was barely audible before turning back to her mother and
continuing her nonstop chatter about the day's events at school.
	Fifteen minutes later, the car turned in to a narrow road lined
with palm trees and came to a stop in front of the main house at the
resort. The kids disappeared quickly, saying something about wanting to go
for a swim. Winnie lifted my suitcase out of the back of the Chrysler and
said the check-in registration could be done later after I had settled in
and relaxed for a while, and together we headed off in the direction of my
cottage. We walked the concrete paths through finely manicured gardens to a
cluster of ten small cottages arranged in a semicircle around a small
swimming pool surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas. Each cottage was
round and pink with a thatch roof and was completely surrounded by a
variety of vividly colored tropical shrubs and plants that screened it from
the other cottages in the grouping. And each cottage had a view of the sea
just beyond. I distinctly remember how odd it seemed to hear only the
sounds of birds singing in the hot afternoon sunshine. No traffic, no TVs,
no man-made noise at all. Just birds. It was magnificent.
	My own cottage--number 8--like all the others, was just a few steps
off the beach, and was comfortably appointed with a king size bed, a
wardrobe, a sitting area with a sofa and armchair, a writing table with two
straight-back chairs, and a modern bathroom with walk-in shower. Definitely
a tropical home away from home. Within 15 minutes, I had unpacked my small
suitcase and had taken a quick shower, glad to have washed off the grime
and smells that came from airports, planes, and public transport. I pulled
on a sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of old cotton boxer shorts. The shorts
were actually ordinary boxer underwear but they didn't have a fly at the
front, giving them a decidedly more formal look, so I had long ago taken to
wearing them in public as if they were regular casual beach shorts. No one
ever seemed to be any the wiser, so I continued to wear them as such. These
days, though, they were getting pretty threadbare but I couldn't bring
myself to part with them. They were my favorites, so comfortable,
especially when I didn't wear any underwear as I was now doing. I stood in
front of the mirror for a moment, satisfied with what I saw: reasonably
handsome 30-year-old blond guy, slim yet somewhat muscled, smooth and
hairless, and sporting a reasonably decent package where it counts. Hard or
soft, I always had a bulge. God had graced me with a short, somewhat thick
cock that always made a handsome bulge, no matter what I wore. As a young
boy, I was frequently embarrassed about it, but as I got older, I
appreciated all the more what I had been graced with.
	It was time to wander around the property and get the lay of the
land. I left Number 8 and walked around the pool, noting how beautifully
clean it was, its crystal water begging me to jump in. The feeling was
almost irresistible--almost--but there would be plenty of time to enjoy the
pool over the next few weeks. I made my way back to the main house which
was set up as the center of all activity at the resort, acting as the front
desk and reception area, the excursions desk, and the dining room that
doubled as a beach bar, all of it tastefully decorated in the colors and
flavors of the Bahamas.
	"Hello there," came a deep, accented voice from behind me. I turned
to see a tall, very attractive black man approach from the dining
room. There was no question that this was Manny's father. The same smooth
coffee-colored skin, the same slim build, the same very handsome face, and
the same liquid black eyes. "You must be Martin Ketch," he said, his hand
extended toward me. "I'm Rolly, Winnie's husband." I shook his hand warmly,
trying to match his firm grip if for no other reason to prove that I was no
city-bred wimp.
	"I...I was just wandering around and thought I'd come in and sign
the register." I heard my own voice shaking. I didn't know why, but I felt
uncomfortable, as if I had just been discovered uninvited inside someone
else's home.
	"Ah, don't worry about that," said Rolly, still holding my
hand. "Winnie will look after that when she's ready. All in good
time. Please, make yourself at home. We have only two other guests staying
with us right now, a young couple from England, but they're almost never
here during the day. They go off everyday for scuba diving, so you've got
the resort pretty much to yourself." His smile was bright and heartfelt,
his brilliant white teeth shining.
	"Thanks," I answered, more relaxed now. "I'm sure I'm going to be
very happy here."
	"Good. Well, I hope you'll excuse me now. I have some work to do in
one of the cottages. Anytime you'd like a cold drink, please help yourself,
anytime. The cooler is just there behind the bar." And with that, he smiled
as we shook hands again and headed out the door toward the cottages.
	I took advantage of Rolly's offer of a cold drink and selected a
bottle of ice cold beer from the cooler before walking out on to the
beach. It was wide and long, the white sand powdery soft, just as the web
site photos showed. The beach seemed to go on forever in both
directions. The water was an incredible azure blue the likes of which I had
seen only on television documentaries. I knew I had made the right choice
by coming here. No crowds of tourists to spoil this little corner of
paradise... MY little corner of paradise.
	Manny and Molly were playing down at the water's edge, so I made my
way over the hot sand toward them. Molly was working diligently on a rather
sad looking sand castle using a broken plastic kid's shovel and a plastic
pail. She had managed to get herself thoroughly covered with sand from her
chest down to her toes, making it difficult to tell that she was wearing a
pink bikini bottom. Her young age allowed her to get away without having to
wear the top. She was the first of the two kids to see me approach and said
hi. Manny was lying face down in the shallow water, looking out towards the
open ocean, only his head and his cute bubble butt showing above the
surface of the crystal clear water. When he turned and saw me approaching,
he stood up and watched the water course down his slim body. He was wearing
only a pair of white jockey underwear--some called them tightie-whities--that
was failing in its attempt to conceal his young boy equipment. His
beautiful wet chocolate skin gleamed as he waded out of the sea. So smooth
and silky. It was all I could do not to reach out and rub my hand over his
chest and stomach to see if he really was as soft and smooth as he looked.
	"You gonna swim with us?" asked Manny, his perfect white teeth
gleaming in a bright smile.
	"Oh, I'm not wearing my swim trunks right now, just my shorts." I
pulled up my t-shirt a few inches to show a bit of bare stomach as if
somehow I had to prove my point. Silently, I chastised myself for not
wearing my trunks under my shorts. Stupid me. Talk about missing an
opportunity.
	"That's okay," he countered, "you can swim in your underwear, just
like me. See?" He pulled up on the waistband of his jockeys, accentuating
his not-so-tiny bulge. "I do it all the time."
	"Mommy doesn't like it when he swims in his underwear," exclaimed
Molly with a tone of disgust that only a 6-year-old can make as she looked
up momentarily from her work on the sand castle. "Mommy says he's too old
to do that." Manny just ignored her.
	I put my hand on his shoulder and leaned down as if I was going to
tell him a great secret. God, what a beautiful boy. His dark skin was
indeed soft, almost buttery. I really had to control myself now, not
wanting to leave my hand there too long. In a quiet voice, I said with a
bit of a grimace, "I'm... I'm not wearing any underwear either." For the
life of me, I didn't know why I was revealing this to an 11 year old
boy. And again, for whatever reason, I pulled a little bit on the fabric of
my thin shorts as if that action explained my desperate situation. Manny
looked disappointed.
	"Tell you what, though," I offered; "I'll stay and play with you
guys on the beach for a while. Would that be all right?" Manny immediately
beamed with delight.
	"Great," he shouted, perhaps a little louder than necessary. And as
little sisters will sometimes do, Molly echoed his delight by saying
'Great' in her shy little voice.
	I pulled off my t-shirt and sat down on the warm, wet sand. "Let's
see what we can do to help Molly with her castle." I started forming up wet
sandy castle walls with my hands. "Manny, you can get us some water in this
pail, okay? And Molly, you can find some stones and shells. We'll use them
to make your castle really beautiful." The kids responded eagerly, and
diligently fetched water and stones and shells.
	We worked together for a short while, building a fairly impressive
sand castle, if I do say so myself. Manny wasn't much help, all things
considered, preferring to lay himself over my back with his chin resting on
my shoulder. If the truth be told, I didn't mind at all having the cute boy
draped over me like that. At times, he got silly, clearly not into the fine
art of castle construction, by teasing Molly and telling her that he was
going to jump on her precious project. In mock rage, I grabbed him up like
a baby, carried him out until I was knee-deep in the water, and dropped
him. He sputtered and giggled as he got up. We both laughed. I turned and
started back toward the shore when he jumped on my back again. I was able
to grab one of his legs and pull him so that he had no choice but to
release me and fall again into the water. Clearly, Manny thought this was
much more fun than building a silly sand castle. And I had to admit I liked
it better too.
	Soon we were putting the finishing touches to the castle. The walls
were holding pretty well under the bright hot sun, and the shells were
neatly placed to mark out the little sandy road and the moat. I asked Manny
to bring me one more pail of water, which he did, but instead of handing it
to me so I could fill the moat, he dumped it over my back.
	My shorts were now soaked but the cool water was welcome. Of
course, I didn't tell Manny that. I grabbed him up again in mock rage,
carried him out into deeper water and pushed him under. We wrestled and
splashed and carried on. As a skinny kid, he didn't weigh a lot, so it was
easy to pick him up and toss him so that he would make a big splash when he
landed. Great fun, if not a little erotic at the same time.
	My poor old shorts were so thin, the wet material had become
virtually see-through and there was no hiding my privates now. My
semi-erect cock showed very clearly as the wet material sucked up around my
private parts like a second skin.
	Out of the blue, Molly asked, "What's that?" as she pointed at my
crotch.
	Oh my god, where did that come from? How do I explain the male
anatomy to a 6-year-old girl? Opting for honesty, I blurted out, "That's my
penis."
	But it didn't really matter anyway. "Oh, my brother has one of
those," she said as if she was already bored with the subject, and
immediately returned to her work of smoothing the sand around her castle.
	"Yes...he...does," I said emphatically as I scooped up Manny again
and rushed out into the water with him. I held him tightly as I
intentionally fell backward, enjoying the rush of water over our bodies.
	We continued to play for a while until Winnie came out of the house
and called across the beach. She wanted the kids to go in now so they could
have a bath and get dressed for dinner. There was a moment or two of "Aw,
do we have to?", but I told the kids we'd have lots of opportunity to play
together but that it was now time to go and get cleaned up. Grudgingly,
they agreed. I followed them up to the house, carrying my t-shirt in front
of me so that it covered the front of my wet shorts. I didn't want Winnie
to see how much of myself was being exposed to her kids.
	As I walked back to my cottage, I was smiling, having thoroughly
enjoyed playing with those kids. I detoured on to the path that skirted the
pool and, on impulse, jumped in. The water was much colder than the sea,
but refreshing all the same. I climbed out feeling very happy with myself
and went to my cottage to shower and change.
	At dinner I met the only other guests of the resort, an English
couple, Lisa and Robert Pressman, who were professional people in their
late 30s. All through the evening, they spoke animatedly of their scuba
adventures on the nearby reefs over the two weeks of their vacation. They
had swum with sharks and dolphins and stingrays, and had dived a couple of
wrecks.
	It was easy to get caught up in the enthusiasm of their stories,
but like looking at friends' vacation photos, you can take only so
much. The kids ran out of steam shortly after 9 pm, their eyes closed more
than they were open, so Winnie ordered them both to bed. And after a day of
travelling and raucous play with the kids, I was pretty pretty much drained
too, so I offered my apologies and went to bed as well.
	The next morning I was up early enough to bid the divers farewell
as they headed out on their final day of diving. The next day, they would
be flying back to Miami to catch their return flight to the UK. I didn't
even want to think about my return trip home, certainly not yet, so I put
it completely out of my mind as I headed to the dining room for
breakfast. I had already finished a couple of pieces of toast with jam and
a cup of coffee and was on my second coffee when Manny came in looking
not-so-awake. He was still in pajamas. The white pajama shirt was open,
showing off his beautifully smooth chest, and the white pajama shorts were
just tight enough to show off his equipment. He wasn't wearing
underwear. We exchanged good mornings, though his was not too enthusiastic,
as he sat down at my table.
	"What time do you go to school?" I asked.
	He shook his head in mid-yawn. "Yesterday was last day. Now we have
holidays." The mere mention of holidays brought a contented smile to his
cute, angelic face.
	I told him I thought that was great, and he of course agreed. "So
what are you going to do today?"
	"Mom wants me to pick some shells from the lagoon," he said, his
tone matter-of-fact. "My auntie makes stuff with shells and sells them in
her shop in town. You wanna come with me to get shells?"
	"Sure, why not," I answered. Manny's face beamed a bright
smile. Mine did too.

	Half an hour later, Manny and I turned left out of the resort onto
the beach and walked nearly a mile to get to the lagoon where he said they
would find the best shells. I had decided to wear my cream colored nylon
sport shorts, thinking they'd be good for walking and for swimming. I had
no idea who else might be going along with us, so modesty should prevail. I
was delighted, though, to see it would be just the two of us. Manny had
swapped his pajamas for a pair of light green shorts that had such a loose
waistband that they slid down low on his hips. He wore no shirt, so his
beautifully smooth ebony skin shone in the bright sunlight. As we walked,
he was forever hiking up his shorts, but just as quickly they slipped back
down again to show just the very top of his ass crack. I wondered, if not
just a bit hopefully, if they would eventually slip to the ground, giving
me my first real look at his sexy naked body. Nah, I never had that kind of
luck.
	As we walked, Manny gabbed away like we were lifelong friends. He
talked about school, about his sister and his parents, and he talked about
some of the guests, the good and the bad and the strange. Sometimes he held
my hand, sometimes I walked with my arm over his shoulder. I felt so at
ease with this young boy and couldn't imagine being anywhere else but right
there at that very moment.
	The beach ended abruptly where huge coral rocks littered the sand
as if left by some giant's careless child. Past the rocks, I could see the
lagoon, about the size of a football field, ringed with palm trees, and its
water as aquamarine as any post card from the tropics would be proud to
show. It looked so perfect, like a movie set. We made our way carefully
over the rocks and soon found ourselves on the sandy beach that circled the
lagoon itself.
	"Where do we find the shells?" I asked, looking up and down the
beach for some prime spot to search for shells.
	"In there," answered Manny, pointing toward the middle of the
lagoon.
	"Seriously? How deep is it?" I asked, thinking we could easily wade
in an pick up what we needed. The water looked to be only 3 or 4 feet deep.
	Manny thought a moment, then said, "Dad says... hmm... maybe 15
feet in the middle. I dunno." He shrugged as if the information was not
important. "We'll use the boat to get to the middle," said Manny. I didn't
see any boats but trusted him to know what he was doing. Sure enough, he
led me right to a canoe, with a home-made outrigger, pulled far up into a
cluster of palm trees. Together we pulled it to the waters' edge, climbed
in, and paddled out to the center of the lagoon.
	"I'll swim down and see if this is a good spot. I'll be right back,
okay?" Manny didn't wait for an answer. He put on the swimmer's goggles
that he had brought and jumped over the side. I watched him swim down and
down and down. I had to wonder if I could dive down like that. I wasn't a
strong swimmer and had visions of getting only part way down before running
out of air. Manny, though, made it look so easy.
	The water was so clear, I felt I could reach down and touch him
even though I knew he was many feet below me. In a couple of minutes, he
bobbed back to the surface and dropped what looked like a green bag into
the bottom of the boat. Immediately a dozen beautiful shells of all shapes,
sizes and colors spilled out on to the floor of the boat. I could see why
his aunt liked to use these for her handicrafts. I picked up the green bag
so I could pass it back to Manny only to realize that it was actually
Manny's shorts. He had stripped off his shorts to use them to carry many
more shells than he could have with his hands alone. I glanced over the
side to glimpse his naked body.
	"I'll get some more," he said as he wiped a bit of spit from his
mouth. He grabbed the shorts from my hand and, with a quick smile and a bob
of his cute little naked ass at the surface, made another dive. A couple of
minutes later, he was back at the surface and dumped another load of shells
into the boat. He wasn't even breathing hard. This was no effort for the
young swimmer.
	After one more dive, he declared that he had collected enough. I
lifted him into the boat, and he sat facing me, totally naked. He made no
effort to put his shorts back on or to cover himself in any way. He simply
sat there with his legs apart, showing me that he wanted me to see him
naked. He was surprisingly well endowed, with balls the size of robin's
eggs and a very cute three-inch black cut cock. I desperately wanted to
reach to him and fondle his smooth, hairless crotch, but I didn't dare be
so forward.
	"Wow, you have a very beautiful body," I told him. Manny smiled
bashfully.
	"Really?" he replied, clearly pleased with the compliment. He
looked down at himself and brushed at non-existent dirt in his crotch. He
looked up again and smiled and said, "Thank you."
	We paddled back to shore and returned the boat to its hiding
place. Manny pulled out an old canvas sack that he would use to carry the
shells back to his mother. Once the shells were carefully arranged in the
sack, Manny said, "Let's stay here and play for a while before we go home,
okay?" It was an offer I couldn't refuse. And he added, "You don't have to
wear your shorts if you don't want to."
	My god, I thought, the boy wants me naked too. Is it possible, or
am I reading way too much into his comment? I wasn't going to ponder the
issue any longer than a nanosecond. I pulled off my shorts and dropped them
on the sand.
	Manny looked at my naked body with a smile. I had spent a lot of
time at the gym, so I was in pretty good shape. And my privates were a good
healthy size: large balls and a short, thick cut penis. I don't like body
hair so I always kept my pits and my crotch shaved smooth. Manny took my
hand and led me into the water. We walked and chased and wrestled and
played for an hour, both in and out of the water.
	Manny loved most of all to wrestle, and our play quickly became
erotic, both of us popping woodies. His black dick stood a remarkable 4
inches. God, it was gorgeous. HE was gorgeous. My own pasty white dick was
just under six inches and quite thick. Manny seemed suitably impressed with
my tool. "Maybe someday I will be big like you." He was stroking his hard
dick, which prompted me to stroke mine.
	I smiled and said, "Yeah, you'll probably be much bigger than me,"
thinking that lots of black men had larger-than-average tools.
	I reached out and started caressing his black boner, making him
heave a deep sigh of contentment. His eyes were closed while I pleasured
him. My right hand jerked his dick while my left hand took care of my own
rigid stock. He was soon breathing in short, quick gasps, the sign he was
getting close to cumming. I had no sooner entertained that thought when he
groaned loudly and shot clear liquid from his cock. Six short spurts before
he could spurt no more. He collapsed to his knees with a very satisfied
look on his face. All he said was, "Wow!"
	"Wow is right," I said, massaging his dark sweaty shoulders. "You
really shot a wicked load." Manny smiled proudly. I sat on the sand and
asked, "Okay, you gonna jerk mine now?"
	"Yeah! Cool!" He positioned himself between my spread legs and
began stroking my hard white cock. Having his hands on me was a fantasy
come true. The boy was sexy, he was beautiful, and he was horny. And, oh my
god, he made me so horny too!
	Within minutes, I was ready to blow a load. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna
cum. No, no, keep jerkin, kid. Don't stop. I'm gonna
cum... ohhhh... noooooow!" My cannon fired time and again, shooting long
strings of creamy jizz over my chest and my stomach, one shot even hitting
me in the face. It was the most intense orgasm I had had in a very long
time. I wasn't sure if it was because someone else had brought me to climax
or whether that someone was an incredibly sexy young boy.
	"Wow, that was so cool," exclaimed Manny. Yes, it was, I thought. I
impulsively grabbed him and held him close so that my cum ended up all over
his skin as well, making him squeal with delight. In my excitement I rolled
us around in the sand until we were both completely covered with it,
including in our hair. Again, we laughed and I gave Manny a big thank-you
kiss on the forehead.
	"We'd better wash off and head back home, huh?" I reminded
him. Manny agreed. We waded back into the warm clear water of the lagoon to
wash off the sand and cum. We didn't rush this task, taking time to enjoy
every second of it.
	When I picked up my shorts to pull them back on, I felt a pang of
regretted for having to do so. I wanted so much to stay naked with this boy
for as long as possible. As if reading my mind, Manny said, "Let's walk
naked a while first before we put our shorts back on." I knew we would pass
no other houses or resorts along the way home, so I agreed. I carried the
bag of shells and he carried our shorts. As we walked, he said, "I like
playing with you. You're fun." And with a wry smile, he added, "And sexy."
	"You are, too, kid. You are so handsome and you've got the sexiest
body I've ever seen." Manny was pleased to hear this and walked more
proudly.
	As we neared the resort, we pulled out shorts back on again and
carried the shells to his mom who was busily preparing lunch. She smiled
and said thank you, then spoke to Manny in a local tongue. Manny answered
only by saying "Okay." He explained outside that he had promised to help
her with chores in the afternoon but that I'd see him later.
	Back at my cottage, I stripped off my shorts and stood under a cool
shower, replaying the morning's events. The memory of it made me hard again
in no time, and I took care of the situation with full, satisfying vigor.
	Over the next few days, my routine didn't vary much. I spent lots
of time with the kids, and even went into town once or twice with Winnie
and Rolly. Silently, I thanked the vacation gods for allowing me to be the
only guest at the resort. With each passing day, I felt I was more and more
a part of their family. And with each passing day, I felt I was falling
more and more in love with Manny, that sexy, horny little boy that occupied
my thoughts and dreams only about 99% of the time.

	Manny's 12th birthday soon came along and Winnie spent most of the
day getting everything ready for a family supper party. To do my part, I
promised to keep the kids out of her hair as she readied the place for the
visitors who would arrive late in the afternoon. As was her custom, Molly
took her collection of a dozen or so dolls out on the beach and played with
them in earnest. And as was our custom, Manny and I played together in the
water and on the beach.
	Manny took to wearing a pair of his father's speedos even though
they were quite large on him, yet his dick produced quite a nice little
bulge all the same. He looked so sexy in them! The pair he wore on this day
were light blue and had only a one-inch band across the hips. A really sexy
number, and I couldn't help wondering what his father looked like in
them. I had seen Rolly many times without a shirt--slim but well muscled--but
never with anything less than his work trousers. Judging by the bulge I
observed in those trousers, though, he would probably be quite the sight to
behold in speedos. A muscled black man in speedos? Lord, give me strength.
	As long as Winnie and Rolly weren't around while I played with the
kids, I had gotten into the habit of wearing my old favorite--the threadbare
cotton shorts that I had worn on that first day. The next best thing to
being naked, as I often thought of it. Manny and I wrestled and splashed
around, sometimes playing catch with a small rubber football, and sometimes
playing tag-you're-it. The kids were used to seeing me in those wet shorts
and I was pleased that I didn't have to try to hide my ample cock that
could so easily be seen through the wet material.
	More frequently now, I felt the stirrings of an erection when I
roughhoused with Manny. Holding him against me, especially when he wore his
dad's speedos, gave me an almost instant hard-on. Sometimes Manny would
grab my stiff dick and hold on for several seconds or give it a good rub,
which of course excited me--and it--all the more. I reciprocated by groping
his crotch and was delighted to feel his impressively hard dick inside the
speedos. I lifted him up out of the water as if to show his mighty bulge to
the world, prompting him to whisper in a desperate tone, "NOOoooo!" and his
hands quickly covering his crotch. It was all beyond Molly's understanding,
so as long as we didn't draw any undue attention to it, it seemed okay to
let it just happen, entirely for our own private pleasure.
	Manny's birthday guests started arriving at 4 o'clock. They were
mostly Rolly's relatives--mostly adults, and only three kids Manny's age or
younger. The only exception was a very handsome boy about 15 years old,
wearing a white basketball jersey and shorts. Across the back of the jersey
were the number 72 and the name Malaki. I had heard Winnie mention that
name, so I assumed it was the boy's last name. I learned he was Manny's
cousin, Benny, a tall thin athletic boy who had the same graceful figure as
Manny, and the same gorgeous face. He seemed quite shy, not wanting to play
with the younger kids and not taking part in any of the adult
conversations. Instead, he sat alone on one of the beach loungers and
stared blankly out to sea.
	Manny was busy with the other children, so I casually walked over
and introduced myself to Benny. He wasn't too forthcoming at first, but
after a few minutes he relaxed and talked more freely with me. I was
wearing a tropical shirt, all buttons open to expose my chest and stomach,
and a pair of knee-length short trousers. As we talked, I caught him trying
to discreetly glance at my chest and down at my crotch. I gave no
indication that I noticed it, but it made me wonder if the boy was gay or
simply curious.
	"All the guys on your team as handsome as you?" I asked, testing
the waters, as it were.
	"Yeah, a few," he said almost without thought. Then after a second,
he seemed to realize what I had asked and what he had just
answered. "Oh...Oh...I mean, NO... no... I don't know. Maybe. I don't pay
attention to what the other guys look like. Really." He was lying. It was
not so much what he said but how he said it. I could tell he had never
spoken to anyone about his sexual orientation, but my gay radar was sending
me strong enough signals that this boy was one of us.
	With a bit of a laugh and reaching out and putting my hand on his
bare shoulder, I said, "It's okay. Don't worry. I'm just making
conversation." His reaction could have gone either way, angry that I was
just teasing him or relieved that I wasn't some gay pervert trying to hit
on him. I was pleased when he smiled and looked more relaxed.
	"You want to go for a walk?" I asked, pointing down the beach.
	"Umm, yeah, okay," he said, looking momentarily preoccupied. When
he stood, he turned away from me for a moment as he adjusted himself, if
you know what I mean. When he turned back, there was a considerable tent at
the front of his shorts. He was embarrassed, and apologized. As casually as
I could, I told him not to worry, it happens to me all the time. Well, it
didn't, really, but he didn't need to know that now. He smiled again and
said thanks almost in a whisper.
	We walked slowly along the shore as the few clouds in the sky
turned many shades of red and orange. Tiny waves lapped at the sand. Once
we were well away from the rest of the group, I said, "You're a good
looking boy. Very handsome."
	"Thank you," he said shyly, looking down at the sand as he
walked. "The girls at school tell me that all the time." He was embarrassed
by his own comment.
	"And the boys?"
	For a second or two, he didn't answer. He gave an embarrassed smile
and almost whispered, "I don't know."
	A few more questions and comments from me produced little more than
one- or two-word responses. I needed something to make a real conversation
happen. Then I noticed in the fading sunlight a small scar on his left
shoulder. "What happened there?" I asked, touching the scar lightly. It
didn't look recent, well healed over.
	He answered with a self-amused laugh. "I fell off my friend's
bicycle. Just being stupid." He wasn't looking at the sand now but directly
into my eyes. Those same beautiful liquid black eyes. I imagined this is
what Manny will look like when he gets to Benny's age.
	I laughed, too. "Well, you aren't the only one who does stupid
things. Check this out." I pulled back my shirt and pulled down the
waistband on my right hip to show a 6-inch scar that ran from just behind
the top of my hip down towards my crotch. "I crashed my motorcycle and
ended up with this as a permanent reminder." He traced the scar with his
long fingers and held his hand at the crotch end of the scar for a second
or two. Suddenly he pulled his hand away, obviously uncomfortable with what
he had just done.
	"Wow, that must have hurt," he commented.
	And with that, our conversation had been kick-started. Before long,
we found ourselves well past the end of the resort property, so we turned
back and casually made our way to the cottages and the swimming pool.  The
sun had already set and the sky was getting dark. All the lights around the
property had already come on, including those in the pool.  Benny reached
down and scooped a handful of pool water. He rubbed his hands together,
then over his face and his bare shoulders.
	"You wanna take a quick swim before dinner?" I asked him, expecting
him to turn down the offer. But he surprised me.
	"I wish I could, but I didn't bring my swimming trunks."
	"No worries. I'm sure I can find something for you. My cottage is
right here." I pointed to Number 8.
	"Cool. Thanks."
	In the cottage, I laid out on the bed for him my collection of swim
wear and he selected almost immediately a ratty old green speedo. He held
them up and saw how very thin and revealing the material was, but he took
them anyway. I took a pair of red speedos for myself. Benny changed in the
bathroom, and I changed right there beside the bed. When he emerged from
the bathroom, I was stunned by his stunningly gorgeous appearance in those
saggy old trunks. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, slim yet muscled legs, much
like a runner's. He was a vision of young male sexuality. Benny's dick
pushed the thin material out slightly, much as mine usually did, so I knew
he must be quite well endowed. I wondered if I would ever find out. He was
eying me, too, in my red speedos that had a pouch only just large enough to
hold my baseball bat and its balls. I hoped I was making a good first
impression. He certainly was.
	In the pool, we swam and paddled around for a few minutes. Then I
hoisted myself up onto the side of the pool and sat dangling my feet in the
water. Benny continued to swim for some minutes, sometimes at the surface,
sometimes underwater, looking like a dark shadow moving across the bottom
of the pool. Finally he stopped and stood waist-deep.
	"I love to swim," he said and his hands rubbed up and down the
front of the loose trunks. There was something in the tone of his voice
that made me think he was trying to summon courage for something, and I was
right. He waded to the ladder and climbed out. As he walked toward me, I
could see why he might have needed the courage. He was sporting a full
erection.  No question about it. The enormous tent in the baggy speedo made
that perfectly obvious. I estimated 8 inches of glorious dark meat.
	"Jesus, that must be a real beast you have in there." My comment
made him take a deep breath and puff out his chest as he looked down at
himself. He now stood beside me at poolside and allowed me to rub my hand
up and down one leg, then the other.
	Seeing him like this increased the pressure in my own speedo. I
desperately needed to do something about it. I stood up and pushed my
speedo down to my ankles. Stroking my now-naked cock quickly brought it to
its full 6-inch erection. What it lacked in length, it made up fully in
girth. I then pulled on the drawstring at the front of Benny's speedo. I
thought he might resist, at least a little bit, but he didn't. He simply
watched. I slid his trunks down to his knees, then took hold of his monster
and stroked it gently. He took mine in hand and started to jerk me, both of
us working in rhythm.
	"Let's go to my room."
	"Okay," he said in a whisper. We picked up our trunks and ran naked
the few yards to my cottage.
	Once inside, I quickly dropped to my knees in front of the young
black Andonis and took his ample tool into my mouth and began sucking him
for all I was worth. My fingers massaged and caressed his large ball sac
that contained the hen's-egg-size jewels. Benny was breathing deeply and
moaning gently at first. But soon, as I took him closer to climax, he
moaned more loudly and his breathing became shallow. His body tensed just a
fraction of a second before he fired his hot cum. Shot after shot filled my
mouth and throat, gagging me as I struggled to swallow his seemingly
endless flow of cream. When he was finally done, he sank to his knees,
utterly exhausted.
	My own rigid cock was now aching to be satisfied. I gently guided
him to his hands and knees. "What are you doing?" he asked nervously in a
hoarse whisper.
	"It's okay, I just want to rub my cock on your ass." Slowly I
worked the tip of my hard dick against his black butt cheeks, then up and
down his crack, working it in circles round his puckered asshole. "You have
a cute ass, a sexy ass," I said as I caressed his back with my left hand
while still pressing my dick against his asshole. He took a deep breath but
otherwise didn't react at all. A few more times, I pushed my dick against
his asshole.
	From my bedside table, I took a tube of lube and squeezed a
generous amount onto my right hand and massaged it over my chub. Then I put
a good amount on Benny's asshole, pushing my finger inside him,
finger-fucking him gently. Benny didn't pull away at all, instead pushing
his ass back to make firmer contact with my hand. When I thought he was
ready, I put my slicked ramrod cock against his hole and pressed gently,
then more forcefully. Slowly, and with ever-increasing pressure, my cob
finally penetrated his tight ass. He gave a quiet whimper, so I stopped and
waited a moment until his discomfort passed. And in a moment, I started a
slow, gentle rhythm in and out, in and out. Ever so slowly at first, then
little by little, I increased the pace. Soon I was banging him hard, my
balls smacking the back of his.
	Typically, it doesn't take much to bring me to climax, and within
just a very few minutes of vigorous fucking, I blew my load into Benny's
ass. Five explosive shots, accompanied by the final spasms that felt like
they might have shaken the entire cottage. Benny's ass was filled to
overflowing as my creamy juices literally flowed out of him and down his
ball sac.
	What a great fuck he was, perhaps the best I'd ever had. At the
time, I couldn't be sure if it was because he was such a good fit for my
hefty cock or because he was such a young, sexy boy. But it really didn't
matter. It was one of those rare moments in life that you wish would never
end. We were both exhausted, and very much satisfied.
	After a cool shower to clean ourselves off, we dressed and readied
ourselves to rejoin the party. Before leaving my cottage, I put my hands on
each side of Benny's face and said "Thank you," then gave him a gentle kiss
on the lips.
	"Thank you, too," he said, and kissed me back.
	When we got back to the group, Manny was the first to ask, "Where
were you guys?" He stood between us and put an arm around each of our
waists.
	"Just took a walk down the beach," answered Benny for both of us;
"just talking." Manny was happy with that explanation. And Benny and I gave
each other the subtlest of smiles.
	The party went on till nearly 9 pm, by which time, the kids could
hardly keep their eyes open. The guests, as if all watches were
synchronized, said their goodbyes and their final happy birthdays to Manny,
and left.

	The days passed, and my bond with the family continued to grow. I
was happy that they trusted me enough to look after the kids while they
were away running errands or to sometimes leave me all alone at the resort
whenever the entire family went off and did family things.
	While the kids were in my charge, we usually played on the beach or
in the pool. For me, it was a great opportunity to wear the revealing swim
wear that I enjoyed so much but couldn't otherwise indulge in when their
parents were around. More often than not, I opted for my old cotton boxers,
the ones that became obscenely see-through when wet. There was something
about being so exposed that I found erotic, even though my only audience
was a 12-year-old boy who was clearly as turned on by it as I was and his
6-year-old sister who really couldn't have cared less.
	The best days, though, were when the family went off and left Manny
alone with me. This was our opportunity to be completely uninhibited. We
would abandon our clothes entirely and play naked on the beach. We could
enjoy our nudity without distraction and we reveled in exciting each
other's cocks. Our play had evolved from innocent touching and tickling to
something much more erotic. It became very sexual. Manny would stand in the
shallow water and let me suck his 3-inch rigid pecker and massage his
robin-egg balls. He loved to scream out when he climaxed and shot his juice
into my mouth. And in return, he would try his best to suck my hefty cock
though it was almost more than his mouth could handle. He teased me by
licking my mushroom cock head and tonguing my turgid shaft. I wanted
desperately to be able to bury it inside his sexy little ass, but I was
afraid of hurting him, so I contented myself by jerking off and shooting my
load all over him. He loved it. So did I.
	One day--a Thursday, I think--Manny and I were alone while the rest
of the family went to visit relatives on the other side of the island. As
usual, we played on the beach for most of the morning--you know, the usual
swim and wrestle, followed by some mutual jacking off--then we sat down for
a lunch that his mom left for us. Manny was still naked, but I preferred,
for some strange reason, to put my shorts back on. I've never been
comfortable eating while naked. Manny, though, loved being naked all the
time. And I loved looking at his beautiful young body.
	We had just taken our food and drink out to one of the patio tables
under the palm trees when we heard the putt-putt-putt of a motorcycle come
to a stop at the front of the house. I walked through the dining room to
the reception desk, thinking it might be a tourist looking for a room for
the night. It had happened before. But to my surprise, and delight, it was
Benny looking so goddamn handsome in his school uniform.
	He followed me back through the dining room and out to the table
where Manny had already started eating. When Benny saw Manny naked, he
said, "Geez, Manny, what are you doing?" There was no shock in his voice
but rather a tone of interest, curiosity. He stared for a moment at Manny's
cute bare body before turning his attention back to me. "I went with my
friends to a birthday lunch for our teacher today," he said. "And I saw
Uncle Rolly in town. He said you guys were here, so I came for a visit. I
hope it's okay."
	"Yeah, of course," I said reassuringly, pulling out a chair for
Benny.
	Benny had already eaten at the birthday party but he sat and joined
us in conversation as Manny and I chowed down on chicken and chips and
sodas. He was a much more relaxed and talkative kid than when I first met
him at Manny's birthday party a week or so earlier. He smiled and laughed
and carried conversation easily. When Manny and I finished our lunch, we
took our dishes and the leftover food back to the kitchen, then made
ourselves comfortable at one of the umbrella tables by the pool near my
cottage. The day was hot, but a steady breeze off the ocean kept us
reasonably cool. For a while, we talked and joked and laughed.
	I felt like a kid, despite the 15 or so years between us. When I
made comment about it, Benny teased me, something about 30 being old. Keep
talking, I told him in mock sternness but with a big smile on my face, and
I'll throw you in the pool, clothes and all! Of course, he didn't stop. He
liked the attention. After a few more of his teasing barbs, I got up from
my chair, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. He fought me
with only a token amount of resistance, laughing more than objecting as he
begged not to be thrown in. But I held him tightly around his chest, his
arms pinned to his sides, and I dragged him to the edge of the pool. Manny
egged me on, saying that Benny deserved it. "Push him in, push him in,"
Manny pleaded. But at the last second, I let Benny go, putting my arm
around his shoulder and hugged him as we walked back to our chairs.
	Manny looked disappointed and made his feelings clear on the
subject. "Awww," he whined. Without saying a word, I scooped Manny up in my
arms like a baby and carried him to poolside.
	"Well, then I guess someone ELSE has to go into the pool, huh?"
Unceremoniously, I dropped Manny into the cool water. Benny applauded with
delight. Manny, sputtering and spitting water, bobbed back to the surface,
laughing loudly.
	I turned back to Benny and showed him an evil grin. "I've changed
my mind," I said with an equally evil tone. "I think you DO deserve to take
the plunge."
	"No, no, no!" he cried, holding up his hands as to fend me off. "My
clothes, my clothes. You can't, you can't."
	"Oh, yes, I can!" I answered as I moved toward him slowly. "And if
you're so worried about your clothes, then maybe you should take them off."
	He whined as he unbuttoned his shirt. I was moving toward him in a
mock threatening posture, and the more I moved toward him, the more he
backed away. He stripped off his shirt and dropped it on the grass. His
beautiful slim black torso glistened with sweat. He had a body that could
grace the cover of any teen magazine, or so I thought. A school boy
slightly out of uniform--god, that was erotic as hell.
	"Lose the shorts, kid," I demanded, pointing at his navy
shorts. "NOW," I added emphatically. He was half laughing and half whining
as he unbutton the waistband and pulled down the fly. He then let the
shorts slide down to the grass. Benny was wearing a pair of white thin
cotton speedo-like briefs that clearly showed he had already popped a
partial woodie.
	"Wow," shouted Manny from the pool in a sing-song tone. "Benny's
got a hard-on. Benny's got a hard-on."
	I took Benny by the wrist and led him to the side of the
pool. "Jump," I commanded with a cheesy grin, and he leapt obediently into
the water. God, my two little black fish together in the pool. If this
wasn't heaven, what was?
	"Your turn, Marty, jump, jump," both boys called from the middle of
the pool.
	"I can't," I replied with a big smile. "I'm wearing my uniform." I
pressed my hand on the front of my own shorts to show that I too had sprung
a boner. Benny quickly climbed out of the pool, his wet briefs hugging his
semi-erect cock.
	"Jump," he commanded and gave me a little push. I fell sideways
into the cool water, making a huge splash, and allowed myself to sink to
the bottom momentarily before I pushed myself back to the surface. When I
broke the surface, I saw that Manny too was now out of the pool standing
beside Benny. Both boys were now naked and erect, and looking oh so
beautiful.
	The next couple of hours was spent in the most incredible
sex. Benny and I took turns sucking Manny, and Manny in turn sucked us both
to near orgasm. Benny then fucked Manny--a first experience for both of
them--until both were completely exhausted. And then I fucked Benny until I
had filled his sweet ass with my cum. If there really is a Heaven, that was
it!

	And so ended my first tropical vacation. But it was certainly not
my last. I have gone back to Beacon Cay every year for my vacation,
returning to what I like to think of as my home away from home. Now, ten
years later, Benny is 25 and is just about finished his degree in
engineering at a university near my home city. Manny has just turned 21 and
is studying biology at the university just down the road from my home. Or
should I say, OUR home.