Date: Sat, 30 Dec 2006 11:08:11 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "The Boy with the Rosy Knees" by Jay Roberts   Gay Encounters

I feel very strong about this: if you are under 18 I do not want you to
remain here......GO!!!!


Mum and Dad closed the London flat and booked a cottage each year in North
Italy, close to the Swiss Border.  Most years it was the same one and I got
to know the neighbors, most who were permanent residents.  They were very
nice.  They tried to speak English to me and offered me sweets.  But as I
grew older, the very thing that pleased by parents were the very thing that
drive me to distraction: the quiet slow pace.  Dad was particular in need
of mending from the hectic pace of his solicitor practice, but I, now an
eighteen year old was bored beyond belief. I overheard my Mum saying to
Dad, Colin needs a change.

The solution to please both me and the old folks was suggested by a
Mr. Patino, an elderly retired vacation agent.  He suggested that I take a
railway trip.  First fly to Paris, only a short flight away, take the
luxury train to Vienna.  This sounded both exciting and romantic.  I filed
my knapsack with books and biscuits, in case I was caught without a chance
of having a meal, two changes of clothes and bath accessories.  I carried
the equivalent of 400 pounds, and the chits for transportation and food on
the train.

He was right about the shortness of the flight to Paris.  In fact, the taxi
ride to the terminal was longer that the flight.  I arrived at the station,
located the correct gate and then hailed a conductor to find my traveling
parlour.  Dad had booked a very luxurious level of travel.  My room had a
couch to lounge during the day, and then at night the porter converted it
to a bed.  I could eat my meals at the table that the waiter could set up,
or in the dining car.

The conductor lavished great attention on me.  I believe partly because he
rarely saw a young traveler or such a rich one.  He probably wondered why
my clothes: shorts, tee shirt and team cap, were so unimpressive, but then
he probably ascribed it to today's sloppy youth.  In any event I settled
down.  I read a bit, I ate at meals and though the first day had not even
ended, I was getting bored from being alone and the inactivity.

When the conductor knocked just after supper and made a request of me, I
was quite willing to accede.  It was hard for him to talk English, but he
manfully tried.  "Young sir, you seem a kind fellow.  There is another
young chap about your age who has encountered a problem, he has booked
similar accommodations as yours, but by error it was double booked.
However, the person now occupying the room is detraining at the next stop
in about five hours.  During that time, he has no place to sit and rest.
Would you allow him to stay here?"

I agreed and a short time later the conductor returned with the "poor
homeless fellow in tow".  The conductor was a substantial man and he
effectively blocked the boy behind him, but soon the chap stepped around
him and entered, holding out his hand to shake.  He must have thought I was
mentally deranged as I stared at him with my jaw hanging, my eyes opened
wide and my hand failing to grasp his for a greeting.  Finally, he laughed
lightly and reached for my hand with his large pale skinned hand and shook
mine vigorously and held it for a moment.  The boy was extravagantly good
looking.  He was about six feet tall with curly blond hair, a big but not
fat frame.  His shoulders seemed to fill the compartment.  He was dressed
in very brief shorts and a turquoise athletic shirt that showed off his
massive upper arms.  I was still gaping like a fool when the porter left
saying, "He speaks only Swiss German."

I finally regained my composure and motioned to the couch opposite mine and
we sat down.  His shorts hiked up to display his powerful thighs and then I
saw them: he had big kneecaps and they were rosy in color.  I already was
beginning to erect, but my cargo shorts effectively hid it, besides I was
badly twisted inside my under briefs.  I pointed to myself and said Colin.
He smiled displaying gorgeous large white teeth and pointed to himself,
"Hans".

I stared at my companion, not knowing how to communicate further.  It gave
me a chance to observe that his cheeks possessed that same rosy blush that
was found on his knees.  It was overwhelming charming.  Also he had a very
pretty mouth, it seemed to be about to say the word "who".  I began to
think of kissing it and now I was definitely poking up and my shorts were
sticking up like a representation of the Pyramids.

Suddenly the uncomfortable silence was broken by Hans clearing his throat
and speaking.  "I am very little in English words.  I may ask forgiveness
to try.  Yes?"

"Of course.  I am sorry I do not speak German, only English and French.
May I say that you look very strong."  I pantomimed by feeling my own
skimpy arm muscle.

"Yes.  It is of a necessity.  I am wrestle.  You know Greco-Roman
wrestling?"

"Yes, I saw it at the Olympics."  I had an erotic mind picture of Hans,
naked, greased up, grappling with another boy.

He seemed to read my mind.  "You like my look?"

"Yes, you are very handsome, very sexy."  I laughed at my forwardness, even
inappropriateness."

He didn't take offense, in fact he puffed up his chest.  "Thanks to you.  I
think you are very beautiful also.  Dark hair, slim, nice body and face
like movie actor."

It was my turn to blush.  I had the feeling that we were going to be
together a short time and I was smitten with him.  I had to take direct
action, particularly because words were so difficult.

"My I see your wrestler chest?"

He looked perplexed.  I lifted my tee shirt and pointed to my bare chest.
He jumped up and came over.  He put his hand on my chest and stroked it.
"Very soft, very smooth, nice and flat."  Then he lifted his shirt and
whipped it over his head.  This was becoming, "You show me yours; I'll show
you mine."  He stroked his own chest.  It was very muscular, his pecs were
like planks of steak.  A small patch of blond chest hair caught the light.
"You like?" He asked.  In answer I rubbed his right pec and excited his
nipple with my finger.  He signed loudly.  "Good!"

He sat next to me and took my face in his hands and placed those pretty
lips against mine and pressed hungrily.  I opened my mouth and breathed
into his.  He moaned and stuck his tongue out a little.  I met it and
flicked mine over his.  Soon we were gasping and kissing heavily. Finally
we broke away, both trying to catch our breath, but smiling at each other.

"I think we have sex.  Now!  Before Porter return.  Yes?"

I didn't answer, but opened the top button on my shorts and let them drop
to my ankles.  My briefs were sticking out and one testicle was coming out
the leg hole.  He whistled either in admiration or something.  He copied me
and dropped his shorts.  No panties.  His sexual equipment was prodigious.
Big balls, decorated with blond hair and laying on them was a Teutonic
sausage, thick and even from root to head.  A tiny rosy tip was showing.  I
reached out and touched his penis.  He sucked in his breath.  His cock
immediately lengthened and began to rise, the foreskin retracting and
exposing his moist cock head.  I could hear his heavy breathing.  "I am
very sexed up now.  I touch you?  Okay?"

I nodded, my eyes closing in lust.  He slipped his ham hand into the leg
opening, the one I used pull aside to piss, so it was pretty pulled out.
He grabbed my cock and pulled it out of the opening.  "You have no skin."
He said, examining my circumcised cock.  "Nice. I want to......"  He
couldn't think of the word, but he stuck his tongue out and made a licking
motion.

I pulled my underwear down, my cock sprang up hard and ready.  He leaned
over me and licked the head.  He took it in his hot mouth and produced a
slight vacuum.  I moaned loudly.  He stopped and grinned up at me.  "You
like?  I good?  You feel hot?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," I said with a groan.  "Let me."  I pointed to his big
cock, now fully unfurled and pulsing slightly.  I took it immediately into
my mouth and swirled my tongue around, sucking vigorously.  He was huffing
and puffing so hard I thought he might pass out.

He put his hand on my forehead.  "No you, then me.  We both, No?"

For a minute I didn't catch on.  "Ah yes, sixty nine."  He nodded,
understanding the numbers.  He shucked what clothes he had left on and then
he got up, his erection standing out and he pulled the shade over the door
and pulled the window shade back, then he turned out the bright light.
Then he lay down on the couch and beckoned me to join me.  I lay down with
my cock in his face and put my face at his cock.  We both dived for the
prize.  There we were, sucking and moaning, stopping often to cry out when
something hit us extra hard.  He began stoking my ass cheeks and then the
space between the cheeks, finally tickling the pucker.  That really got me
howling.  I felt his slightly fuzzy ass cheeks as well.  They were muscular
and big.  Between the halves was a hot, moist slit, blonde-hairy.  I put my
finger into his hole.  He almost choked and cried out.  We both knew that
we could not keep us the intensity without ejaculating.  We disengaged, our
cocks hard and jumping with passion.  We sat together and kissed for a long
time.

"I must cum," I said.  He knew the word "cum".  He stroked my cheek.

"Handsome boy, you hurt?  Yes?  I can er make hand around it.  You like?"

"Yes, please."

We resumed our deep kissing and Hans reached for my aching cock and I did
the same for him.  We lightly stroked each other, crooning into each
other's mouth.  I passed thumb over his piss slit, he screamed in pleasure.
He stroked my balls tenderly, pulling the skin down.  I was so affected my
eyes rolled up and closed.  "Now Hans. Do it."

He began a vigorous pumping of my cock.  I tried to do the same to him, but
his hands were so hot on my cock that I kept getting distracted.  I pinched
his nubs and then sucked them. This made him stop and throw his head back
in pleasurable agony.  At last we both knew this wasn't working and we slid
down, back to the 69 position with great moans and signs and took each
other's sock into our mouths as deeply as we could.  Hans' was so fat it
made my jaw hurt, but I was determined to make him happy.  Suddenly he
stiffened, he body became rigid and the first volley of cum shot into my
mouth.  I swallowed and swallowed as he kept unloading, crying out his cum
chant.  Before he finished I felt my thighs begin a fuck motion as my cock
began to spew.  He sucked me valiantly even though he was in his own cum.
We both finished and wrapped our arms around each other's waist and hung
on, waiting for the storm to pass, panting and breathing hard.  At last we
quieted down.  It was just in time as the porter knocked on the door.

Hans slipped a shirt on.  He was told that his room was ready.  We dressed,
we kissed goodbye.

After he left I decided to have my bed made up.  I rang for the porter.  It
was another fellow, I guess the shirt had changed.  He was English.  A tall
thin lad, not more than twenty.

As he was making up the bed we chatted about my coming arrival in Vienna.
"You'll like it, but watch out for the fairy chaps.  They try to get in
your pants."

I told him that I doubted that they would try if I said "No".

He said, "Maybe so, but I found they wouldn't take "no" for an answer."

"You mean they raped you?"

"I guess you would say that.  Once or twice it wasn't half bad."

"Then you're a faggot?"

"No lad, I told you, they had their way with me and I couldn't do anything
about it."

He rubbed his crotch.  Uh oh, I knew what was coming.  I guess I have to
rape him to have sex with him.  People are funny.


End


I guess you figure that Colin is going to fuck this guy in the ass and the
protests will be part of the porter's self-delusion.  Maybe you have met
guys like that.