Sunday, August 31, 2008

My French Canadian

I saw him standing on the curb near the freeway off ramp. He was young, somewhat disheveled but handsome in a foreign sort of way. Preparing to stop for a red light, I slowed. He gazed directly at me, raising his thumb in the universal hitchhikers' salute. He was so fucking attractive as he arched his brow in an appeal for a ride. I nodded my head, unlocking the passenger door. Recognizing the positive click of the power door lock, the young man lifted his satchel off the ground and moved toward the car. He opened the door, placing his belongings in the back seat then sat down next to me. He smiled shyly and offered his hand.

"Thank you for letting me ride with you. My name is Jean-Pierre," he said with a decidedly French accent.

"My name is Robert," I replied. "Where are you headed?" I asked.

"Headed?" he asked. "Oh, I understand now," he chuckled. "No place in particular. I am touring this summer and I want to see whatever I can. I'm from Quebec in Canada." I was immediately taken with his gentle brown eyes with their long, thick, lush lashes. His facial features were thin yet strong and masculine. "Gallic nose," I thought to myself. He had a two-day growth of beard on his tanned face.

Waiting for the traffic light to change, I glanced over to appraise him. He was wearing loose-fitting jeans, hiking boots and a colorful cotton shirt. The hands that rested on his thighs excited me. The fingers were long, slender and well shaped, the nails generous but proportioned to his hand. I wondered to myself if those lovely fingers were any indication of what lurked in those baggy jeans. The sound of an impatient horn honking behind me brought me back to the moment and I pressed on the accelerator.

"Is there anything of interest in this area?" he asked. "I was left here and do not know where I am. My plan is to go to San Francisco."

Since it was getting late in the afternoon, I offered that he could probably get a ride further up the road. I also offered that he might want to wait until the morning when the odds would be better. He mulled this over and then asked if there were any inexpensive motels in the area at which he could spend the night.

"I also must wash my clothes and my body," he said with a laugh while pinching his nose. I don't know what came over me. His charming manner and good looks had totally captured my heart. Ignoring any thoughts of danger and my better judgement, I offered to let him spend the night at my apartment.

"I have laundry facilities and a shower you can use. I'm a pretty good cook, too, and I could make you dinner," I said.

"Ah, Robaire, that would be wonderful," he responded. As he said this, he gently patted my thigh. "I will be a good guest and try to repay your generosity," he said with a sly wink.

After arriving at my apartment, I poured two glasses of wine. We exchanged a little small talk and told me something about himself.

"I am 23 years old, unmarried and a graduate of the university. I have a girlfriend at home but I decided to travel through America and Canada before starting with my career," he offered. "One should travel when one is young and one's juices are flowing. Don't you agree?" he asked. After enjoying the wine, Jean-Pierre asked if he could begin laundering his clothes. "I would like very much to wash now since I feel so soiled," he said in his somewhat formal English.

I showed him where the washer and dryer were and he unpacked the clothes from his bag, separating the various colors into piles. When the bag was emptied, nonchalantly began to take off his boots and the rest of the clothes he was wearing. Before long, he stood before me stark naked. He placed his clothes on top of the piles.

"Ah, to the laundry and the shower!" he said gaily. Jean-Pierre was even more beautiful nude than I had anticipated. His body was tanned, lithe and hard-muscled. The few strands of silky brown hair between his pecs betrayed his youth. His nipples were large, raison-colored and shaped like tender buds. A hint of fine, soft hair trailed down from his navel to his pubes. His loins were milky white in sharp contrast to the tan of his upper body and his long, muscled legs. Large, low-hanging, almost hairless testicles rested behind a long thin cock. The tight foreskin did not quite cover the helmet-shaped head of this beauty, leaving a teardrop of a piss-slit visible. As he arranged his soiled laundry, he turned his back to me, displaying two beautiful melon-shaped cheeks that sloped down from his trim waist and tapered to his perfectly formed legs. While he bent over to pick up his laundry, I caught a glimpse of the rosebud that nestled in his hairless ass crack and the twin fig-like nuts that dangled down between his legs. The way his nuts jiggled between his legs as he moved drove me mad with lust. It was all I could do to keep myself from dropping to my knees and licking those luscious sperm-filled balls. While trying to keep my obvious hardon from showing, I helped him load the washer and add the detergent.

"Do you want some fabric softener added also," I tremulously asked.

"What is that, Robaire?" he asked.

I told him it was a softening agent, at which he glanced at my crotch and laughingly said,

"Oui, mon Cher, but I think you need it more than I do!" I blushed crimson.

"Will you come talk to me while I bathe, Robaire?" Jean-Pierre asked.

"Sure," I replied, trying to act as nonchalant as he.

Wild horses could not have prevented me from going with him. He stepped into the shower enclosure and turned on the water, balancing the hot and cold. When the temperature suited him, he stepped under the shower head and let the warm water stream down over this head and shoulders.

"Ah, Robaire, this is heaven!" he crooned.

After luxuriating under the water, he took up the bar of soap and began to lather up. I stood transfixed as I watched his hands spread the lather over his face, arms and chest. I tried to make more small talk but the intensity of my excitement made me babble like a fool. I slumped down on the floor opposite the shower and said nothing more as his soapy hands began to wash between his legs. He lovingly bathed his nuts and the area between his legs. Watching him touch those intimate spots got me so excited I became light-headed. My own cock was hard as steel and straining inside my jeans. I squeezed my legs together to intensify the fantastic sensations I felt in my dick.

Jean-Pierre now moved his attention to his still soft penis. He skinned back the foreskin and began to lave his cock with his soapy hand. He made sure the soap reached under the hunk of foreskin that covered his dick.

"It is important to thoroughly clean your instrument, no?" he said, looking over at me. "Do you have skin left? I know that most Americans have their skin cut off when they are babies."

"No, I'm cut," I stammered in reply.

"Is that what you call it?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah," I replied, "Cut and uncut."

Watching him was driving me fucking crazy. I had to get out of there or I was going to make a complete fool of myself.

"I think I'll go see what I have that I can fix for us to eat," I said.

With that, I put a towel near the shower for him and headed toward the kitchen to start fixing dinner. As I walked to the kitchen, I removed the load of clothes from the washer and put them in the dryer. I loaded his second pile of dirty clothes into the washer and started the cycle. In the kitchen, I found some potatoes and peeled them. I had a couple of steaks in the refrigerator and thought I'd broil them and fry the potatoes. With a salad and more wine we'd have a passable dinner. As I worked, my mind kept going back to the beautiful young man, naked as a jay bird, in my bathroom. My hardon didn't go down one bit! After I while, I sensed Jean- Pierre behind me. He came up close and started massaging my back.

"You are such a generous person, Robaire. I truly am thankful to you," he said. "Especially now that I don't smell so bad anymore. See!" he added playfully, hugging me from behind.

My knees got weak and wobbly as he lightly held his body up against my back.

"I see you found the shampoo, Jean-Pierre. I can smell it in your hair," I said.

"Yes, it does have a nice aroma to it, non? "Is there more wine?" he asked.

"Yes, over there on the counter. Please pour me some, too," I replied.

He took his arms from around me and backed away. Soon, my newly filled wine glass was in front of me. I took a large sip and turned to face him. God, he was still naked! "Oh, your clothes are not done. Do you want to put on some of my clothes?" I stammered.

"Does it bother you that I am naked, Robaire?" he asked. " If it does, I will use yours. But, I am comfortable with no clothes."

"NO," I almost yelled out. "I don't mind you being nude at all! You are so beautiful!"

"Oh," he laughed, "women are beautiful, not men, mon ami!"

"It's all a matter of one's perspective," I replied. "I think you are beautiful. Now, let's put the food on to cook," I said.

I fried the potatoes while Jean-Pierre, standing completely naked, made the salad. I broiled the steaks and opened another bottle of wine. When we sat at the table, he ate with gusto. I picked at my food. My mind was still in a sexual frenzy just sitting there across from him, eyeing his naked beauty.

After dinner he helped me clear the table and we set out to do the dishes. I washed, he dried and when we were through, I poured more wine for us. We went into the living room where Jean-Pierre stretched out on the sofa. I sat in a chair opposite him. We both sipped our wine silently for a while. Jean-Pierre looked at me with those wonderful brown eyes and said,

"You are homosexual, non?"

Embarrassed, I said, "Yes."

"And, you want to make love to me, non?" Jean-Pierre said.

"Oh, Mother-of-fucking-Christ, yes!" I replied.

"That would be nice, mon Cher," he replied as he got up off the couch and walked over to my chair. He bent down and lovingly took my face into his hands. He tenderly kissed my lips and then pulled me to my feet.

"Thank you for the bath, the dinner and the clean clothes," he said."Now, let us go to the bedroom," he said.

As we walked down the hall, he said, "Now you can get undressed, too, non?"

"Oh, yes!" I said. Jean-Pierre pulled back the bedclothes and then lay down, watching as I stripped naked. His dick had lengthened a bit but was still soft. I, on the other hand, sported a raging hardon. When I had pulled off the last of my clothes and was standing there with my dick reaching for the heavens, he held out his arms. He pulled me closer, spread his legs slightly and guided me down onto his body. As he held me in his arms, I kissed him like a mad man, grinding my cock against him. I wanted to kiss and lick every part of this man's body. I started by kissing his eyelids, moved down to his neck, then down to his nipples. They hardened and stood out as I licked, sucked and bit at them, going from one to the other. Jean- Pierre involuntarily moaned as I worked his nips over. One by one, I raised his arms over his head. I tongued and kissed his pits, causing more moans to come from Jean-Pierre's luscious lips. I worked my way down to his cock and balls. I licked at his cock and then took it into my mouth. It started growing as I sucked on it. Finally, it was fully hard. I knew that Jean-Pierre was enjoying it when he took my head in his hands and started slowly fucking my mouth. I pulled off his cock and said,

"Jean-Pierre, please let me worship your body."

With that, I began to lick and suck on his nuts, pulling them one by one into my mouth and sucking on them. Then, I licked that oh-so-sensitive area behind his nuts as I lifted his legs into the air. I then rolled him over onto his stomach, spreading his ass cheeks with my hands. I reveled at the beauty of his boyish, hairless buttocks, his rosebud asshole and the back of his nuts hanging down. I began licking up and down his cleft. He shuddered when my hot tongue reached his puckered asshole. My tongue swirled around and around his hole, occasionally forcing it way into that hot pit.

"Oh, mon Dieu," Jean-Pierre gasped as I rimmed him.

I pulled his hard cock back through his legs, alternating licking up and down the cock, his nuts and his asshole. Jean-Pierre started moaning in passion.

"I must finish, Robaire," he stammered in a fit of lust.

"No, Jean-Pierre, not yet," I said. "I've got other plans for us."

With that, I raised up. I caressed his body for a moment or two and then went into the bathroom. I found my tube of KY and squeezed a gob onto my fingers and jammed them up my asshole. I kept forcing more KY up my ass until I was thoroughly lubed. Then, taking the tube with me, I went back to the bedroom. Jean-Pierre had rolled over onto his back. He lay there with his eyes closed slowly jacking off his beautiful cock. He may have been fantasizing of a girlfriend in Canada, but I didn't care...I wanted that glorious dick up my ass.

I squeezed some KY onto my hand and gently rubbed it all over his cock. I stroked him several times and then said,

"Jean-Pierre, I want you to fuck me!" He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Oh, Greek-love, mon cheri! Is that what you want?"

"Yes, more than anything in the world right now. Please fuck me, Jean-Pierre!" I stammered.

He moved over to make room for me on the bed and I snuggled up against him. I felt him caressing my body. For the first time, he took my cock in his hand and began stroking it. He gently squeezed my nuts. Then I felt him reach behind me and finger my asshole. Shit, I was in heaven! Jean-Pierre lifted his beautiful body onto mine and settled down between my legs. As my legs wrapped around his slender body, he looked me in the eye, then kissed me His hard hot tongue worked its way all my mouth, intertwining with mine. He broke off the kiss and said,

"I have never done this to a man before, Robaire. Are you really sure to want me to do this?"

"Oh, God, yes. Fuck me please!" I pleaded. Jean-Pierre lifted his body so that I could hike my legs up and give him access to my throbbing asshole. Lying back down on me, I felt his hard nipples rubbing against me. I pushed him up and swiped at them with my tongue. The tongue on his nipples caused his cock to spasm involuntarily up against my ass cheeks. I felt Jean-Pierre's cock insistently pushing against my puckered asshole. Reaching underneath us, I grabbed his dick and aimed it at my hole.

"Push your cock in me, Jean-Pierre," I gasped.

I felt a sweet stab of pain as he slowly entered my ass.

"This is wonderful," he purred as he pushed it further and further up my butt.

"Fuck me, Jean-Pierre! Dick me like you fuck your girl friend's juicy cunt back home!" I pleaded.

With that encouragement, Jean-Pierre began to slowly draw his cock in and out of my ass. "Oh, Robaire, Claudine isn't this tight!" he said and he fucked me faster and faster. His steel-hard stick was pounding the hell out of my prostate, sending waves of sexual ecstasy through my body. Harking back to female-fucking, the only sexual experience he most likely has every had, he looking into my eyes and said,

"Claudine loves it when I suck on her tits while I love her."

With that, he began lick and suck on my straining nipples. The combination of his dick up my ass and his lips on my nipples was too much. My cock swelled, my balls pulled up tight in my scrotum and I shot cum all over my stomach. The twitching and squeezing in my shitter caused by my orgasm triggered in Jean-Pierre a gigantic, overwhelming orgasm.

"Oh, mon cheri, I am cumming! I am shooting it up your wonderful ass! Oh, Robaire! Oh, Robaire!" he murmured.

He continued to ram his dick into me as he shot his big load. When the last of his dick spasms stopped, he collapsed on me and kissed me fully on the lips. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and contentedly held onto him for what seemed like forever. I lovingly caressed his shoulders and back, then slowly reached down and squeezed his ass cheeks. I kissed and sucked on his neck. These sensations caused his softening dick to twitch deep in my ass.

"Oh, sex was never like this with Claudine, Robaire," he sighed contentedly. "You are masterful! Your ass is so tight and hot! It makes my penis feel like it belongs there!" he said.

"It does belong there, Jean-Pierre," I replied. "You can fuck my ass as often as your want!" I promised.

We lay there silently, then contentedly fell asleep. We must have dreamed wonderful dreams because we both woke up with our cocks standing at attention. Jean-Pierre gently kissed me and we talked about what had happened between us.

"Robaire, I cannot believe how wonderful the things you did made me feel," he said. "When you took my penis into your mouth, I thought I had gone to heaven. Then, unbelievably, it became better when you used your tongue on my rear end. Oh, I thought I would die from the sensation. And then, actually fucking you, Oh, mon Dieu! I have never felt anything like that in sex!" I wish I could say that Jean-Pierre changed his mind about touring the States, but alas, he didn't. He did remain with me for four wonderful days during which we made love as two gay men are supposed to...hot, hard, and often. Jean-Pierre even experienced the joy of being held down by another man and fucked hard in the ass. He took it like a man, begging for more. Our sad but inevitable goodbye was said at the freeway entrance leading to San Francisco. Unknowing strangers must have thought it odd...one fine, handsome young man with tears in his eyes shyly waving farewell to an openly sobbing, disconsolate man behind the wheel of his car. That is how love ends at times...overwhelming pain that somehow seems to be the price one pays for incredible happiness and joy.

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