Date: Thu, 7 Apr 2005 19:15:28 EDT
From: Colcalverley@aol.com
Subject: Simon The Backpacker Part 2

This story is copyrighted to myself the writer and cannot be copied in any
way shape of form without my express permission. If you are underage or
don't like stories of a homosexual nature press the back button now
otherwise enjoy and let me know.


SIMON THE BACKPACKER -- Part 2
By `The Colonel'


We settled down to watch TV for the rest of the afternoon in companionable
silence.

Whilst Simon was watching TV, I was plotting my strategy for the evening.
With the heavy rain had come a rise in temperature, so it was now quite
muggy.  My plan was to make the house as warm as possible and this,
combined with the take-away curry which I had purchased that morning,
would, I hoped, cause Simon to drink copiously of the wine (which I had
also bought that morning) and beer, my stock of which was kept permanently
topped up in a special Budweiser fridge in the garage.

I went into the kitchen and cranked up the boiler and made sure that the
wine was well on the way to its optimum 5 degrees C, and returned to the
living room.  I opted for a chair from which I could see the TV, but could
covertly observe Simon.

His hair was almost black and was cut in a short, but fairly feminine
style.  His complexion was fairly pale and his skin free of spots or
blemishes.  His teeth were extremely white and fairly large, without being
prominent and his neck was nicely tapered with a prominent adam's apple.
His shoulders, whilst not wide, were square and his torso tapered to a nice
narrow waist.  I found myself wanting to open the bath robe and see what
his chest was like.  As far as I could see he was not hairy and I wondered
whether he had large nipples, and whether he had an `innie or outie' belly
button.

I could not see the top of his legs, but from the knee down they were very
shapely with narrow ankles and the smallest, shapeliest feet I have ever
seen on a grown man.

Of course, I had seen his cock and balls, but I had been so mesmerized by
them that I hadn't really taken note of what they were like.  As for his
bum, I had only seen that enclosed in a pair of jeans, but it certainly
looked as though it was a real little beauty.

I was drinking all this in when I was suddenly aware that he was looking at
me.  I did not move my head but averted my eyes so that I seemed to be
watching the TV.

`Can I do anything to help you with the dinner' he asked.  I told him of my
purchases that morning and said that I hoped he liked Indian food.  `Oh,
yes' he replied `The hotter the better'.  I told him that I had got Lamb
Madras and this met with great approval.

`If it's OK with you, we'll eat at about eight o'clock' I said.  `If you're
hungry before that please feel free to help yourself to a snack.  There's
plenty of stuff for sandwiches and some bags of nibbles if you want them.'

`I wouldn't mind a snack' he said and went into the kitchen.  `You must let
me know how much I owe you for putting me up' he shouted to me.

`Don't worry about that now', I said, `We'll talk about it tomorrow. (If my
plans came together, it would not cost him anything ... at least, not
in cash!)

As he came back into the living room I started to ask him questions about
himself.  It transpired that he had been to university in Liverpool and had
got his degree in English with a view to becoming a teacher, but before he
settled down in a regular job he was backpacking around the country,
sometimes staying in a youth hostel and sometimes camping out in a very
small tent which was attached to his backpack.  He was fairly reticent
about his family life, but I gathered that his family were quite `well to
do' and he hadn't really wanted for anything in his life so far.

He was earning his living by doing odd jobs and occasionally had worked the
odd week on a building site or in a bar if he needed the money, but found
the work extremely hard.  I told him that he was welcome to stay with me
for a few days and that I had some odd jobs about the house and garden that
needed doing.  He smiled and said that would suit him very well as he had
done a lot of walking over the last few weeks and could do with a rest.

I told him, when it suited him to put his things in the bedroom next to
mine and later on I would sort out some sheets and a duvet and we would
make a bed up for him.  He smiled and said that he would do that now and
also take his clothes out of the washing machine and put them in the tumble
drier.  I said to his that there did not seem to be any underwear with his
clothes when I picked them up off the landing that morning.  `No', he said
blushing, `I don't wear any, it saves a little money'.

Well, I thought, this lad is playing into my hands. (You'll see why later)

At about 7.45 I went into the kitchen and started getting the dinner things
ready.  Simon came in and asked if he could help.  I asked him, if he would
put the Naan bread on a baking tray and put it in the bottom of the oven to
warm through.

I made sure that I was right behind him, as the bath robe was bound to ride
up when he bent down to do this.  Sure enough, it did, and I can now tell
you that the tops of his legs are as shapely as the bottoms and the little
of his bum that I saw looked very promising indeed.

I microwaved the curry, rice and various nibbles and poured us each a large
glass of Chablis, which we both glugged in no time.  I recharged our
glasses, but made sure that from then on I poured twice as much into
Simon's glass as I did into my own (no point in both of us getting pissed
when I had other plans).

I dished up the dinner and we sat at the kitchen table.  Simon took one
mouth full of the curry and immediately drained his wine glass. `Gosh,
that's hot for a Madras' he said.  I suggested that he get himself a beer
from the fridge in the garage, knowing that beer would only make things
worse.  He did as I suggested, and came back with a litre bottle of San
Miguel, half of which he drained immediately.  Whilst he was out of the
room I took the opportunity to fill his wine glass again and got another
bottle out of the fridge.

Well, the combination of the curry, the booze and the central heating was
certainly starting to have an effect on him, so I suggested that he loosen
the bath robe and have another cold drink, both of which he did, and I can
now tell you that he has a small inverted triangle of fine hair on his
chest.

After we had finished eating I loaded the dishwasher with the dirty
crockery and threw away the take-away cartons, and we continued sitting at
the kitchen table chatting about nothing in particular and drinking wine
and (in Simon's case) beer as well.  I suggested to him that he shouldn't
drink too much in case he was ill, but he assured me that booze did not
make him sick.  As it got later the rain stopped and the sky cleared so it
looked as though we might be in for a cold night.  I turned down the
central heating (for reasons of my own) and brought out the third bottle of
wine from the fridge.  I poured a little into my own glass and refilled
Simon's to the brim.

As it got later and later, so Simons speech got slurrier and slurrier and I
suggested that we ought to go to bed.  `Oh dear' I exclaimed `We haven't
made a bed up for you, lets go up and do that now'

`OK' said Simon and staggered to the kitchen door.  As he went to step on
the first stair he swayed slightly too much and missed the step completely.

`Here,' I said, putting my arm around his waist, `let me help you
upstairs'.  We made it to the top, and I said that I thought we were both
incapable of making a bed up for him, and suggested that `just for tonight'
it might be better if he shared my double bed.

`OK' he said `But I ought to warn you that I snore'

I assured him that that was OK and took him into my bedroom. I pointed out
where the en suite was in case he need to pee in the night and sat him on
the bed.  `I haven't got anything to wear, he said and with that he passed
out.  I felt that it would be better in I removed the bath robe `in case he
strangled himself on the cord during the night' I told myself.

I gently eased the robe off his shoulders and down his arms, then I pulled
the cord and opened the robe.  What I saw was a pair of pale brown nipples,
not too large and not too small and also, looking lower down, a perfectly
beautiful uncut cock, about four inches soft, and a pair of large,
low-hanging balls, the left one traditionally hanging lower than the right.
I could not have imagined anything more perfect and I found that I simply
could not resist the temptation.  I bent down and planted the lightest of
kissed on each nipple then, licking my lips, I kissed that most wonderful
cock from the base of the shaft to the tip.

I gently eased Simon's legs up onto the bed and covered him with the duvet.
I went over to the window and opened it, to let in the cool (actually, very
cold) night air, then so that Simon would not feel embarrassed about being
naked, (I told myself), I removed my own clothes and slipped into bed naked
beside him.

I did not snuggle up close, but laid my hand gently over his waist and
settled down for the night.

During the early hours I was aware of movement beside me and realized that
Simon was heading for the bathroom.  I lay and listened as he peed
copiously into the bowl and then heard the sound of running water as he
rinsed his hands and drank deeply from the tap.  All these noises were
punctuated by his shivers, as the night had now become extremely cold.

He rushed back in and jumped into bed.  `Are you OK I mumbled, as though
half asleep.'

`Yea, fine' he replied, shivering again.  I breathed deeply and evenly as
though I was asleep and fairly soon I felt him move and he edged towards me
and took up the spoon position, whispering `Gotta keep warm somehow'.  Then
`Oh, oh' he said, realizing that we were both naked. `Ah, what the hell'
and he put his arm over me.  I continued breathing deeply and evenly,
although I was getting quite excited and my cock was starting to do a
little jig of its own.  I then realized that his hand was moving slightly
and felt it brush against my pubic hair. `Hold on', I thought, `this is
what I intended doing to him', but I did not argue and lay there stock
still.

Next his hand brushed against my increasingly hardening cock and I heard a
sharp intake of breath as he realized that I was hard.  `Are you awake,
Bob' he whispered.  I did not reply, but I could feel his cock against my
bum start to harden.  He gently took my cock in his hand and started to rub
me gently backwards and forwards.  As if still asleep, I moved on to my
back and my left hand fell `accidentally' against his now rock-hard member.

He continued to rub me and after a few minutes I could feel myself
cumming. I groaned and moaned a bit and eventually arched my back and shot
my load all over the pair of us.  There seemed to be gallons of cum, oceans
of it. Eventually he took his hand away and started to lick of what was
left off his hand, at which point I reached up, put my arm around his neck
and pulled his lips down to mine and kissed them gently.

At first he seemed to be shocked, but then returned my kiss and I pulled
his whole body on top of me and we lay like that, kissing and caressing for
what seemed like hours.

Eventually I pushed him off and laid him on his back. I gently `took him in
hand' and when he was really hard (his four inches having grown to about
six-and --a-half), I slid down, kissing his nipples and his `innie' belly
button on the way to my destination.  When I got there I took his pride and
joy in my mouth and gently started to give him the best blow-job of his
life.  I brought him to the verge of climax half a dozen times and then let
him simmer for a while until he was begging for mercy.  Eventually, I took
pity on him and let him cum.  The effect on him was earth-shattering.  I
have never known anybody have such a violent orgasm and his sweet-tasting
juices proved far too much for me to swallow, so I had to let some of them
run down my chin and on to my chest.

We fell asleep in each others' arms until the dawn chorus woke us.




Well, I must leave it there for now as I have to retire to my lonely bed.

The Colonel


If you have enjoyed this second installment, or have any comment to make
please e-mail me at Colcalverley@aol.com

I will try to reply to all messages.