PZA: Beach Front Boy

It was about 7pm on a muggy summer evening in Durban, the main port city on South Africa's Indian Ocean coast. It was hot and sticky as only tropical Durban can be at the height of summer. Living in Johannesburg I was used to the cool, crisp high altitude climate of the Highveld and I always avoided Durban like the plague in summer. The only reason I was in Durban at that time was because there was an important seminar on that week and my employer had insisted that I go.

After a dreary day listening to the droning of interminable speakers in a room where the air-conditioners had obviously seen better days I returned to the Holiday Inn on the beachfront where I was staying, tired, crumpled and scratchy. I yanked off my clothes as I walked in the door, dropping them on the floor as I went straight for the aircon and put it on full blast. Then I called room service for a beer and took a lukewarm shower while I waited for it to arrive.

It came quicker than I thought it would. I got out the shower wet and dripping, snatched a towel around my waist and held it there with one hand as I opened the door with the other. The bar boy standing there with my beer on a tray was young and cute, maybe 17 or 18 at most, short and trim, black haired, tanned, black eyed. I turned to fetch my wallet and the bar boy followed me in. I purposely let go the towel and allowed it drop to the floor. I picked up my wallet and turned to face him, watching him as I pretended to fumble for some notes, hoping that he would give some indication – a look, a comment – to say he could be interested. He had picked up my towel and was holding it out to me at arm's length, his eyes troubled and looking away. I ignored it. He blushed and fidgeted and did not seem to know where to look. He was clearly uncomfortable with my nakedness and when I stepped toward him to give him the money he practically jumped backward with fright.

"Ah well," I sighed as he took the money and retreated hastily. I had heard that many of the bellhops and bar boys at these Durban beachfront hotels were happy to increase their meager earnings by providing guests with additional 'unlisted' services. But this was obviously not one of them.

I switched on the TV and watched the news for a while as I downed my beer, sitting on my bed with my back against the headboard, fingering my cock absently. Then I looked through the classified ads of the local newspaper under the "Massage" and "Escort" columns. The cryptic messages teased my imagination:

Michael (WM) – young and hung – 18yo – for M/M

Dean (WM) – B/L bodybuilder – 10 inch [25 cm] – for M/M full house – will travel

Farm Boy Kurt (WM) – built/hung stallion for M/M massage and more

I always did this went I went to another city. I would never dream of doing it in my home town. I would imagine and yearn but I would never actually phone. I was married and had two kids at home but had been 'curious' for a long time – for ever, really – and I would fantasize about what it might be like to do it with a guy. But I somehow could never work up the courage to take that first step. Often I would key in the number on my mobile and wrestle with myself for agonizing seconds with my thumb on the dial button before stabbing at the reject button and tossing my phone aside, irritated with myself.

As so often before I eventually keyed in the number for the young and hung 18 year old, Michael. I was in the midst of my usual agonizing when I involuntarily stabbed the dial button. I could have cancelled but somehow I didn't. I stared at the phone until I heard the dial tone click out and a man's voice saying "Hello? Hello?"

I put the phone to my ear. A deep voice resonated in my ear "Hello, what can I do for you?"

I realised at once that this was no 18 year old. "I'm sorry," I said, "I seem to have dialed the wrong number."

Thinking quickly over a faint feeling of panic that I was being sucked into something that I had no control over I said "Is this 3;?" and I gave the number I had just dialed with the last two digits switched around.

"No. I'm sorry," said the pleasant voice, "Seems you have dialed the wrong number."

I lay there for a while, berating myself for being a coward. I was flying home the next day and once again I would be going home with my questions unanswered.

Eventually I jumped up. No use moping about it. I got dressed in a pair of knee length shorts and a loose button up shirt that I did not tuck in, slipped my bare feet into a pair of leather beach thongs, grabbed the keys of my hired BMW and went to find something to eat. I drove down Marine Parade until I found a restaurant further down the beachfront that I had not tried before.

It was 10 pm and dark by the time I drove back. As it was during the school term there were very few holidaymakers in Durban that week and the Marine Parade was almost deserted. The lack of bustle and noise seemed almost eerie. Although it was still uncomfortably warm there was a light drizzle that seemed to coat the tarred road with a yellow sheen from the bright yellow street lights.

As I entered a traffic circle I passed a young boy standing alone at the kerbside on my left. He was not thumbing but he looked as if he was looking for a lift. I do not pick up hitchhikers but something made me go right round the circle to get back to him. Perhaps it was because he seemed to be too young to be there on his own. Perhaps it was because he looked a little forlorn in the drizzle. Perhaps it was just because I would have liked someone else to have picked up my son if he was standing alone on the beachfront.

Whatever it was, I went back for him. As I drove slowly around the circle I checked him out. He looked like a typical Durban beach boy. I could not tell his age in the light of the street. Could have been anything from 14 to 18. Sturdily built, he was short for 18 and tall for 14. As I drew up to him I pushed the button and the window slid down smoothly. I saw he was wearing a pair of denim dungarees that were a little too big for him, the rolled trouser cuffs almost covering his feet which, like most teenage boys growing up in Durban, were bare. He wore no shirt under his dungarees, which were held up by just one strap over his left shoulder. The front flap hung down to the left, exposing the right side of a tanned and well-developed upper body.

I came to a stop next to him. He stepped into the road and bent slightly to rest his elbows on the window sill and poke his head inside.

"Hallo Oom!" he said cheerfully, addressing me with the Afrikaans for 'uncle', as polite Afrikaner boys are brought up to do. Full lips opened in a wide grin across his broad face and bright blue eyes twinkled a question at me under a thatch of straight blonde hair, now dark and damp from the drizzle. His skin was smooth and tanned a deep golden brown, glistening now like honey from the wet. His arms and shoulders were well-muscled and hairless, except for a light dusting of soft golden down on his forearms. A smell of wet boy and denim wafted into the car and made my belly lurch pleasantly, an intoxicating musk of sea salt, sweat and sun tan cream. How I wished right then that I had the balls to try to pick this boy up.

A shadow passed fleetingly over the boy's face. He looked up at the continuing drizzle and then back at me for a moment. He seemed to be making up his mind about something. Then, finally, "Okay, Oom,"he said, "It's a bit early but with this drizzle I might as well pack it in for tonight."

Faint traces in his accent told my ears that his home language was indeed Afrikaans: The slightly clipped tone, the rounded vowels and the hard consonants

He picked up a small canvas beach bag from the kerbside and tossed it on the back seat. He paused before getting in and looked at the front passenger seat.

The right side of his smooth tanned torso with its well-defined musculature was exposed to me as he got in and drew my eyes like a magnet. The single buttons meant to hold the side slits in his dungarees closed at the waist were unbuttoned on both sides so that when he sat down the front flap of his dungarees ballooned outward and the side slits gaped open all the way to the top of his thighs. He was not wearing any shorts or underpants and I caught a tantalizing glimpse of smooth tanned buttock and thigh before he patted the flap back against his lap. Once again my belly lurched pleasurably and I could feel a tingling get going in the tip of my cock.

Completely unfazed he grinned and said "I never wear under rods, Oom. Too hot and sticky in Durbs. I like my tackle to hang free. You don't mind, do you?"

I did not tell him that I was not wearing any either and for the same reason. It didn't seem to be any of his business.

"I can see you're from outta town. And Imperial Car Hire always got those boxes of mints in the car."

I laughed. "You're a bright kid!" I said. "But how can you tell I'm from out of town?"

"You got that kind of skin that the Joburgers always have. My mom says it's because it's cold and dry there. When the kids come down on holiday they got those 'rosy cheeks and peachy skin' she always says. That's why she's always after me to use sun tan cream and stuff."

"Well, she's done a good job with yours," I said, reaching out despite myself and running the back of my fingers down his cheek, "You have great skin."

At once I regretted stroking his cheek. He's going to think I'm coming on to him, I thought in panic.

But my passenger just smiled as if it was normal for strange men to stroke his cheek and compliment him on his great skin.

"And I'm Jonathan," I said as I took his hand and shook it. His hand was big and firm, like a gymnast's, and his grip was strong and confident. "You can forget the 'Oom' bit."

"Well, that's what everyone wants to hear, but no, you're right, I'm actually sixteen."

By now we were continuing North on the Marine Parade. I suddenly realised that I had been so absorbed by my young passenger's attractiveness and enigmatic conversation that I had forgotten to ask him where he needed to go.

"No that won't work!" he said, "My mom is there and anyway she thinks I'm sleeping over with my friend Andrew."

"No, silly, Andrew's dad would have a fucken heart attack if we turned up there! He don't like me hanging out with Andrew! He chased me away from there before!"

"I'm staying at the Holiday Inn. You mean 3; you want to crash with me in the hotel? You don't even know me 3; I could be 3; an axe murderer 3; what would your mom say?" I finished lamely.

Then the light finally went on: "Oh gosh 3; Oh my gosh 3; Oh my gosh!" It dawned through my thick skull at last that this sexy young boy was picking me up!

I jammed on the brakes and slowed down, turned into one of the many empty parking slots along Marine Parade, pulled up the handbrake and switched off the engine. I turned and looked at Johan as if seeing him for the first time. My heart was pounding in the back of my throat and my pulse was racing like I had just finished a hard game of squash.

"I watched you checking me out as you went around the circle. You liked what you saw and you came back for me!"

"I've never picked up a guy in my life! I felt sorry for you getting wet and I wanted to take you home."

Johan looked at me appraisingly for a long while and then said, "Maybe. But when you stopped and spoke to me I could see in your eyes that you wanted me."

"And 3; I can see that you still want me!" he said, glancing meaningfully at the long hard bulge in my shorts.

Still I said nothing, looking back into Johan's cute young face, not trusting myself to speak.

Johan reached up to his left shoulder and unhitched the one strap still holding up the left side of the front of his dungarees. The heavy denim cloth collapsed onto his lap and left his upper body completely exposed all the way to the top of his thighs. He pushed the cloth away to reveal a cock that even in its unerected state was both exceptionally long and exceptionally thick for a boy of sixteen. It was white and smooth and thin blue veins could clearly be seen beneath the surface of the skin. Like all Afrikaner boys, he was uncut. An ample foreskin covered the whole apple shaped bulb of his cockhead. He had no pubic hairs at all and there was no indication that the smooth elastic skin of his pubic area had ever been shaved.

"Don't worry, it's still drizzling. You'll never see a Metro Cop out in this wet!"

I looked over his nicely muscled chest, arms and shoulders and the well defined ridges of his belly. My mouth was dry and I licked my lips as the blood pounded in my head.

"Now tell me you don't want this," said Johan, his eyes shining and his wide grin threatening to split his cheeks.

For answer I reached out to touch his gorgeous cock. At the same moment Johan pulled up the flap of his dungarees and hitched up both straps.

We got back to the hotel in record time. I parked the car in the hotel parking garage and went up alone to collect my keycard from the front desk. Johan waited in the garage a while to give me time to get to my room. Carrying his small beach bag he took a service lift from near the laundry straight up to the tenth floor where my room was. No guest would ever have given him a second glance. Shirtless and barefoot boys are commonplace anywhere in Durban and especially in the hotels that front on to the Marine Parade. The bellhops, bar boys and housekeeping staff who all knew him as a rent boy would simply have winked and sent him on his way with perhaps a lewd comment. But Johan was anxious to avoid the front desk staff and some members of hotel management who took a dim view of what he did for pocket money and who might have thrown him out.

I was standing at the door waiting and when the knock came I practically yanked Johan into the room.

"Hey, whoa there," Johan laughed at my nervousness, "Relax, it's nearly midnight, no one's gonna worry us now."

"Don't worry about it, I done it plenty times and I'll teach you," said Johan, "But first let's get the business out the way."

"For fifty bucks you get one blowjob and for another hundred bucks you get to butt-fuck me once. You my last client so I kip here tonight plus you gimme fifty bucks for breakfast and you drive me home in the morning – early, 'cause I got to get to school by 8."

Johan grinned broadly as he undid the straps and let his dungarees fall to the floor around his ankles before stepping out of them, "For five hundred bucks you own me for the night and you can do whatever you want whenever you want it 3; 'cept 3; you can't whip me tonight."

"I don't want to whip you!" I said as I fiddled with the buttons of my shirt, my fingers clumsy with excitement and anticipation.

Johan stepped up to help me, standing on his toes as his strong brown fingers nimbly worked their way down the buttons. His boy musk scent just under my nose was heady. The tip of his cock brushed against my thighs as he worked and my cock instantly erected under my shorts.

"I don't mind 3; really!" said Johan, "Lotsa guys like to whip me and I've learned to get off on it too." But tomorrow I got a swimming gala at school and people will ask questions if I come there again with whip marks all over my back and arse."

He laughed. "I made up some story about my mom's boyfriend beating me and then running away. I begged them not to tell the cops or he might come back and hurt my mom. They felt sorry for me and let it go, but they won't buy that story a second time!"

"I've got one here!" he said, reaching into his beach bag and showing me a black braided leather whip tightly wound into a small coil.

"No Johan!" I chuckled "I don't need it! Here's your three hundred bucks. Put it away in your bag so you won't forget it."

My eyes drank in the tanned perfection of Johan's body as he took the money and bent over to put it in a wallet that he fished out of his beach bag. Every shape and curve set my loins tingling: His broad brown feet with their well spaced toes, high arches and dirty leathery soles; his rounded calves and muscular thighs; his slim waist and hard round buttocks; his muscled back and shoulders, the bulges of his biceps and forearms; the uncut cock hanging down at least 5 inches [12½ cm] on the slack and the large testicles hanging down slightly further in their smooth, pubeless, ball sac.

He was a full head shorter than me and, despite his well-developed muscularity, I began to doubt if he was even 16. Perhaps it was his hairless pubic area or his exceptionally smooth skin. Perhaps it was just the way he spoke. There seemed to be a trace of innocence there despite his obvious sexual precociousness. Could he be 14 or even 13? My son was 13 but he was nowhere near as developed. Then I thought of some of the muscular well-developed 13 year olds in my Grade 8 son's rugby team with the big bulges in the fronts of their tight rugby shorts that had me watching every game. If they were 13 so could Johan be. I worried about this for a moment. Did it matter? If I was prepared to have sex with a 16 year old did it matter if the boy was really 14 or 13? A glance at the teenaged Eros in front of me settled the question. It wasn't going to matter tonight.

"Now I need a shower," he said, "My foot soles are dirty and I'm still sweaty and I got an arse full of cum from the last guy that wanted a quickie in his car. Just before you came."

"I love your dirty foot soles and the smell of your sweat and the thought of the cum in your arse just makes me more horny."

"Well, if you put it that way," I said, quickly pushing my shorts to my ankles and stepping out of them, "lets go."

We got into the shower. Being a Holiday Inn the shower was over the bath so there was ample room for the both of us.

"It will be my pleasure," I replied. In fact I couldn't wait to get my hands on him. For the next half hour I slowly and carefully shampooed and soaped every centimeter of that firm and perfect body. When I got to his arse he spread his legs wide and asked me to pay special attention to his crack. He bent over and asked me to clean his hole, something I would in other circumstances have regarded as being too gross to contemplate. Somehow it was no problem for me then and I was happy to soap my fingers and insert first one and then two into his wet and soapy hole, twisting them about and pumping them in and out until his firm but elastic anus was clean.

Then I had to do his cock and balls, an especial pleasure for me, pulling back his foreskin and soaping the swollen purple head at the top of his now erect and fully engorged cock.

Fascinated by his smooth hairlessness I asked, "How often do you shave here? It doesn't look like you ever had any pubes!"

Johan smiled. "I don't shave there! I just never had any pubes. Check, I don't have hair in my armpits either!"

I looked. Sure enough his armpits were as smooth and hairless as a ten year old's. I looked at him enquiringly. He shrugged, "My mom says it's genetic. My father never had pubes either. Nor does my boetie (younger brother)."

"Ja, I know," he said matter-of-factly, "It used to worry me a lot but lotsa guys told me they like it."

"Okay, then, I thought so!" I said, closing my fist around his by now bone stiff cock and gripping it hard, "Though your cock and balls are huge for a boy so young!"

Finally we sat down opposite each other on the floor of the bath, our legs crossing over each other's as I scrubbed the leathery skin on the soles of his hard well-formed feet as clean as they could get.

As I scrubbed Johan spoke, "So now I told you my real age, will you tell me your real name?"

"Well most guys I go with give me a false name. They don't want me to know who they really are."

"I see!" I replied, "Well my real name is Jonathan and when we get out the shower I'll show you my ID if you like."

Then it was my turn and Johan returned every favour in full measure. As he soaped and washed my arse crack he remarked "You never had a cock up here, did you?

"Well it hurts for a while the first few times you do it, but if you hold out the pain passes and gets really lekker! (nice). I'm gonna loosen you up a bit here so you can start to get used to it for when I fuck you just now."

"Ja, you're gonna fuck me! But I'm gonna fuck you too, 'cause you gonna want me to!"

Johan got me on all fours in the bath and started playing with my anus, gently rubbing and pressing against it with a soapy finger, explaining how I could relax my sphincter.

"You won't but if you do its okay – it's only shit – we bum boys are used to it and we're in the bath already!"

I laughed and then both of us fell silent as Johan slowly worked my anus. One slippery finger seemed to pop in eventually and made me suck in my breath quickly. Involuntarily my anus squeezed tight and gripped his finger. There was a stinging feeling that passed soon as Johan waited for me to relax again.

Johan started pushing his finger in deeper, very slowly, until I felt his other fingers up against my arse. Then he pulled it out, slowly, almost all the way, before pushing back in again. For a while I felt his strong young finger pushing in and out slowly, gradually moving faster as he and I both felt my anus relaxing to accommodate his persistent intrusion.

Then I felt his other hand moving between my legs and his thumb pressing against the bottom of my anus to open a way for a second finger to slide in next to the first. Again the sting of the sudden stretch caused my anus to clench momentarily and he waited for me to relax before going on.

The sensations Johan was making me experience in a place that I had never touched before without a substantial wad of toilet paper were incredible. I could never have believed it without feeling it for myself. It was so strangely fulfilling and pleasurable that I found myself wanting him to go on and on, to penetrate me deeper and to fill me even more. My cock by now was rock hard and slapping eagerly against my belly as I panted on all fours like a puppy on heat. When Johan eventually slid his fingers out I felt as if something had emptied me and I moaned briefly in disappointment.

"Don't worry, you gonna get plenty tonight, that was just a teaser to get your arse ready!" laughed Johan, "Let's get more comfortable on the bed."

Towelling ourselves hurriedly we made a dash for the bed, giggling and groping at each other as we went. I was thirty-eight years old but this sexy young Afrikaner boy was making me feel like a naughty teenager.

Johan scrambled onto the bed and flipped himself over to lie on his back, his one hand behind his head and his feet crossed. He reached out for the TV remote and started flicking through the channels. I got onto the bed and knelt over him with my knees straddling his thighs.

"No such luck! This is a family hotel, remember?" I replied and grabbed the remote out of his hand, switched off the TV and tossed the remote onto the bedside cabinet.

I did so, shuffling forward on my knees until my balls were close to his face. I pushed my bone hard cock down to the horizontal and pushed its swollen head into Johan's welcoming mouth. His lips closed around my cockhead and I could feel his strong tongue exploring its surface and working energetically at the sensitive tip. Suddenly he sucked my whole shaft practically down the back of his throat, leaving my pendulous balls pushing against his chin.

I almost doubled over at the intensity of the pleasure being generated by that blonde teenage head that was so voraciously attached to the tip of my cock.

Simultaneously I felt Johan's hand slide up between my legs and one of his fingers probing insistently at my anus. It felt slippery and I realised he must have dabbed it through the precum now leaking copiously from the tip of his cock and puddling into his small flat navel where it nestled between the hard ridges of his belly muscles.

I concentrated hard on relaxing my sphincter and was quickly rewarded by the feel of his finger sliding smoothly inside me and probing expertly for my prostate. Johan's blue eyes smiled their approval up at me as his lips continued to slurp up and down my rigid shaft.

Just as I felt my cock would explode, Johan disengaged both his mouth and his finger and slithered out from underneath me.

As I complied, he shuffled around on his knees to take position between my legs. He put his hands against the backs of my knees and pushed them away from him so that my knees were resting on my shoulders with my anus wide open and facing slightly upward.

"Grip your ankles and hold your legs like that," Johan said, "I'm just gonna lube you up a bit and then I'm gonna fuck you."

Being slightly unfit I could not reach my ankles. Seeing me struggle Johan laughed and said, "Okay, grampa, just hold your legs here by your knees!"

Johan jumped off the bed to fish a bottle of lubricant out of his bag of tricks and was back in a moment, rubbing the glistening stuff along the whole length of his cock. As he shuffled up to my exposed arse he rubbed some of it onto and around my anus with his thumbs, gradually pressing harder until eventually he gained entry and spent a few minutes thumb and finger fucking me with his slippery digits until he judged me ready to take his cock.

I loved watching Johan's face as he worked. The tip of a pink tongue stuck out between his full lips as he concentrated on the job. Now and then his blue eyes would look up at me and his wide mouth would spread into a grin that made my belly lurch.

Then he got me to lift my arse off the bed while he put a couple of pillows under it. Finally he was ready and after giving his cock a few quick tugs to ensure that it was still rock hard, he edged forward and pressed the purple tip of it against my arsehole. Slowly he teased it in with pressure from his hips and the help of a thumb as he leaned forward over me and supported his weight on one strong arm planted on the bed next to my ribs.

I watched the six pack abs contracting under his smooth tanned skin as he worked his cock-head into me and I felt my own cock instantly swell even harder as I willed that thick intrusion into me.

Finally his cockhead slipped in and Johan was able to support his upper body on both arms placed either side of my torso. He felt my arse contract momentarily with the stinging pain that met his entry past the barrier of my sphincter and he paused, his eyes locked with mine as he waited for the pain to pass.

When I nodded that I was ready, Johan started to thrust his well practised cock slowly into me. I loved the way it seemed to fill me, and I do not mean just physically, as its slippery thickness slid inexorably forward. I found myself panting gently and wincing with each new pang of pain.

When Johan had gone all the way in I held him there with my palms pressed against his hard round buttocks while the exquisite pain morphed slowly into a strange sensation of release and pleasure. Then I let go and he withdrew slowly until his swollen cockhead pulled up against the restriction of my sphincter. Instantly he started moving forward again, a little more insistently this time. Again I held him in me at full length, but this time just because I loved the feel of his rampant maleness filling my void, not because there was any pain.

Gradually Johan pumped faster and harder. Soon the sweat poured off him and he was panting and grunting as his hips smacked wetly and rapidly against my butt cheeks. The naughty twinkle in his bright blue eyes had turned into the hard glint of lust; the smiling lips were drawn back against his perfect white teeth in an animal snarl of domination and his sweetly boyish face was contorted with the effort of conquest. I could not have stopped him if I wanted to, nor could Johan have stopped himself. He was the slave of his cock at that moment and entirely in its thrall.

And so was I. Every fibre of my being thrilled to the onslaught of this beautiful young animal and I gave myself up entirely to his conquest, revelling in his strength, his hardness, his sheer maleness as he took me and owned me.

Finally Johan's fucking accelerated to climax until his hard young body seemed to go into seizure above me. His eyes shut tightly and his body arched into a tightly muscled bow that quivered and shuddered as his cock pulsed and writhed deep inside me. I could feel his cock jetting its hot and slippery load into my arse.

Johan let out a long moan of release and then collapsed forward onto me as his cock spasmed into stillness inside me. No longer a marauding Nordic warrior raping his captive slave but a young boy again, snuggling against my chest and purring as I ran my fingers through his sweat-matted blonde thatch and slid my hands over the glistening wet ridges of his muscled brown back.

I would have been happy to lie and cuddle with this beautiful young boy but, with the vigour and power of recovery that healthy young boys the world over are cursed with, Johan suddenly lifted his head.

He scrambled up and looked down at my cock, which had been lying erect and rock hard between us and had left smears of my pre-cum on his belly. He reached down and folded his fingers around it, squeezing a couple of times as if testing it.

"You're ready," he said, leaning over to pick his bottle of lube off the bedside cabinet. He squeezed a generous quantity into the palm of his hand and slathered it all over my cock. He reached between his legs and used the residue on his fingers to lube his anus before getting onto his hands and knees in front of me.

For answer Johan backed his arse into me, pushing his crack against my cock and waggling it from side to side.

I pushed my cock down to the horizontal and pressed its swollen purple head into the inviting round depression leading to Johan's winking brown pucker.

"How does he get it to do that?" I thought as my cockhead slid tightly but easily past Johan's well used sphincter into the warm moist channel beyond.

I thrust my hips forward hungrily and was surprised to see my cock go in all the way.

I pumped my cock in and out of his elastic teenage arse harder and faster until the sweat poured off us both and all you could hear was the slapping of my hips against his butt cheeks and the rhythmic grunting of both of us, punctuated with ever more frequent moans and whimpers of pleasure.

The exquisite pleasure radiating through my body from the tip of my cock suddenly intensified as I accelerated into climax.

Johan felt it coming and he cried out "Don't stop! Don't stop!" as if that were even a possibility!

As I fucked him with the frenzy of a jockey riding for the finish, Johan called out "Yes! Yes! I want your cum! Gimme your cum! Gimme your cum!"

Though my brain told me that this was just part of the script for a seasoned rent-boy and that he would have picked up these corny and contrived expressions from watching countless porn movies, I found it incredibly arousing and it pushed me over the top.

Great shuddering waves of ecstasy shook me like a man possessed to the very tips of my toes. My ears roared and I could feel my cock spasming as it squirted what felt like thick jets of cum deep inside Johan's arse.

Afterward we showered together again and got into bed but there was not much sleeping that night. Johan taught me many things that night and basically changed my life forever.

In between the sex Johan became quite chatty. He told me with disarming frankness that his mom was a sex worker. "But she only does calls. She doesn't work the beach front like me," he added with a chuckle, "I can give you her number 3; seeing you swing both ways!"

"Sure, I give you my cell number and when you come to Durban you give me a call!"

Johan said he was sure his mother knew what he was doing to make the money that he gave her every week, but she never asked and did not seem to mind.

When Johan and his brother Ben had been very young she had brought most of her clients home and by the time Johan was 10 years old there was nothing that he did not know about sex.

In the same year he was introduced to man sex by one of his mother's boyfriends who lived with them for a while, a 25 year old called 'Henk'. Unemployed and permanently horny, Henk turned his attention to Johan whenever his mom was out working, which was often. His mom found them at it when she came home unexpectedly one afternoon after school and threw Henk out. Johan missed Henk but soon afterward bumped into him at the swimming pools on the beach front where Henk was trying to pick up young boys. Within 10 minutes Henk was rogering Johan in a change cubicle and within an hour after that Henk had pimped Johan to two other men.

Johan loved both the sex and the money and that was the start of his career as a Durban beach front rent boy.

Johan's mother would not allow him to leave Ben home alone at night until Ben turned 10 years old. So for the first two years until Johan turned 12 he could only ply his rent boy trade in the afternoons after school. During the long nights waiting for his mom to come home Johan relieved his boredom by introducing Ben to boy sex. The 8 year old already knew from interested observation of his mother and her clients everything there was to know about sex between men and women. His keen interest made him a quick and ready learner when it came to learning about sex between boys.

Soon Ben was also spending his afternoons hanging out at the beach front pools in his Speedo and disappearing every now and then into the change rooms for a blowjob or a hand job with some man that Henk had arranged. To Ben's disappointment Henk would not allow his youngest charge to be fucked in the arse until he turned 10. Although Johan, whose cocklet was impressive for a 10 year old, fucked him almost every night, Ben hankered for a greater challenge. So whenever Henk was not close by Ben would strip off his Speedo in the cramped change cubicle and manfully offer his young arse to be fucked, begging the client not to tell Henk. Few could resist the offer to pork that delectable little arse, especially as it was free (although many would tip Ben privately) and soon Ben built up a whole clientele of private clients who were not making their bookings through Henk. By the time Ben was 10 years old he was already an accomplished rent bottom.

"Nest time you come to Durban I'll bring him with me. He's only 12 but he's the best boy fuck you will ever have next to me," he said. "I taught him!" he added proudly.

The thought made me instantly hard and started another round of passionate sex with my boy lover.

No sex that I had ever had, ever before, and I had only ever been with women, had ever been so utterly great. Nothing in my memory could match the incredible fucking that this 14 year old boy gave me that night. I was instantly deeply in love with him. I wanted to own him, to make him mine forever.

I went a little mad. I made him wild promises. He listened to it all politely, saying nothing. He had heard it all before, of course. He knew that in the cold light of dawn reality would sink in, that I would go back to my wife and kids and he to his mom and his younger brother. I would go back to Johannesburg and my career. He would go back to his usual daily routine of school in the morning, beach in the afternoon and sex for cash at night.

And that was how it was. He woke me early and I took him home, dropping him on the pavement outside a block of flats where he said he lived just off Point Road, which was Durban's red light district, being conveniently situated close to both the harbour and the beach front.

Johan, and later also his brother Ben, was a magnet that drew me to Durban whenever I could get away for several years after that first encounter. But those are tales for another day.

Chapter Two

I found it difficult to settle down to the daily round of work, family and social life. I was like a teenager after his first sexual experience: Johan was permanently in my thoughts, both awake and asleep, and I found myself in an almost permanent state of arousal. For the first time in many years I was having wet dreams nearly every other night. I even took to wearing underpants in a vain attempt to hide the untimely erections of my suddenly unruly cock and to absorb its embarrassingly constant dribblings.

I even found myself being tormented by feelings toward my 13 year old son that I had never experienced before. Or perhaps more accurately (as I came to realize) they were feelings that I had never acknowledged before. I can vividly remember to this day one particular wet dream that played itself out a few times in that period. The dream always started with my son creeping into my bed in the early hours of the morning, as he used to do every day up until he was about 5 or 6 years old. He would be naked, but that was not unusual, since my sons and I have always slept naked, summer and winter. And it always ended with his warm mouth clamped around the head of my cock and an explosion of wet and slithery cum over me and the sheets.

These dreams were deeply disturbing to me at the time and began to interfere with my relationship with my son. I found myself avoiding the affectionate hugs, loving physical contact and especially the rough and tumble couch and carpet wrestling that had always characterized our relationship until then.

Dirk noticed the change and was clearly puzzled by it although I think he put it down to my being in an extended bad mood at the time. When my wife told me that Dirk had complained that I was very 'nors' these days and wanted to know if everything was alright at work I realised that I had to pull myself together before I would lose it completely.

By sheer concentration and the exercise of will I was able to gradually shut Johan and my electrifying Durban experience out of my mind and focus on getting my life together again. After about a month or so I felt that things had returned to 'normality', although I was no longer quite so sure what that was.

Then one chilly Highveld day in late autumn my boss called me to his office and told me that I had to go to Durban for an urgent meeting with a customer over a deal that was threatening to go belly up.

The news sent my emotions into an instant spin. Wild elation at the prospect of seeing Johan again quarreled violently with the mental barriers, walls and compartments that I had so resolutely been building up around those emotions during the last couple of months.

"Uh 3; Why can't Fred go?" I heard myself asking, one part of me wanting to kick myself for saying it,

"Because Fred is the poephol who made the bugger-up up in the first place!" he replied, "The customer never wants to see him again!"

As there seemed to be no alternative, it was arranged that I would fly to Durban that afternoon and meet with the customer the next morning. I was to spend a few days at his factory sorting out the problem.

I realised suddenly that I was thrilled to be going. First, it was an opportunity to escape from the icy clutches of the Highveld in Autumn to the balmy tropical weather of the Natal coast where holidaymakers swim in the sea even at the height of winter. And the thought of meeting up with Johan again had me feeling like a child on the night before Christmas. I pondered briefly on how easy it was for me, apparently, to abandon my resolve and my principles when presented with a real opportunity to indulge my fantasies. Then I salved my conscience by telling myself that this time what happened in Durban would stay in Durban. I would not bring it home with me.

Before I even left the office I called Johan on the phone number he had entered on my mobile phone when I last saw him. "I put it under 'Pielseun','' he had said, chuckling at his joke. Later I changed it to 'Johan' in case Dirk, who was forever playing with my phone, should find it and ask awkward questions.

"Hey Jonny, how goes it!" Johan's husky boy's voice answered, abbreviating my name, Jonathan, to Jonny with easy familiarity.

I could scarcely contain my delight, even as I thought, Shit, the kid's got my number in his phonebook!

It took less than a minute to arrange a meeting for that night. I did not yet know which hotel I would be staying at, so I made an arrangement to pick Johan up outside the Wimpy next to the Aquarium on the beach front.

"I don't know that I'm ready for that yet, Johan!" I said, hesitantly, remembering that Ben was just 12 years old.

"Mom's busy," was the cryptic reply. I waited but Johan did not volunteer anything more. I knew that his mother was a 'sex worker' as Johan called it and I left it there.

While I hesitated still he said "Ag please, Jonny, please can Ben come too? Otherwise I dunno what to do with him. He'll be real good, I promise. You don't have to do anything with him if you don't want. He'll just watch TV while we're busy."

After a long pause in which it dawned on me that if I refused I may not see Johan either I eventually said "Oh okay, bring Ben along."

The flight to Durban from Johannesburg is little over an hour long, but the traffic getting to and from the airports at each end adds another two hours to the trip, so that it was dark by the time I reached my hotel on the beach front.

I first took a shower and then had dinner in the hotel dining room before taking a barefoot walk along the beach. At about 7 thirty I spotted the Wimpy in the distance where I was due to pick up Johan and Ben at 8. I decided that I might as well walk there to fetch the boys. I thought it would look less suspicious for the three of us to walk back to the hotel together along the beach front like any other dad and his sons on holiday.

I got to the Wimpy at about 7 forty five. I spotted Johan at once, even though he had shaved his shaggy blonde thatch into a short bristled buzz cut that made him look younger yet incongruously tougher, like a marine in boot camp. He was sitting on the low wall separating the beach from the promenade. He had a wide grin on his face as he watched the antics of a smaller boy on the promenade and did not notice me.

I stood and watched him for a while, savouring the sheer magnetism of his golden tanned and exceptionally muscular young body. He was barefoot and shirtless as usual and wore his trademark oversize dungarees with the one strap hanging down and the buttons on either side of his waist casually undone to reveal smooth tanned skin and the hint of a dimple half way down his buttocks. There were two small well-used rucksacks at his feet and one broad brown foot rested easily on one of the bags

The boy he was watching was younger, with a slimmer, more wiry build, but otherwise looked like a younger version of Johan. He was nicely muscled although he lacked Johan's brawniness. He had blonde hair that stood up on top and was closely shaved back and sides. His smooth skin was tanned a deep mahogany and, like his older brother, contrasted startlingly with his bright blue eyes.

The younger boy was also barefoot and shirtless, like most boys on the Durban beach front would be, and he wore only a pair of faded, rather threadbare, denim shorts that were a touch too small for him. He was walking about with great ease on his hands, occasionally dancing a little jig in time to the music blaring out from the Wimpy for the amusement of the passersby. He had the same appealing kind of unkempt roughness that Johan had: A feral quality that hinted at danger and excitement and made them somehow irresistible, a highly saleable quality in their line of work, I suppose.

Some people threw money on the ground and the boy would balance on one hand over the money and with his free hand pick it up and toss it to Johan, who would catch it deftly and slip it into his pocket.

As I watched, Johan mistimed a catch and instead of closing his fist around the coin, accidentally hit it away from him. It flew through the air in my direction, hit the paving and slithered to my feet. As Johan jumped up to fetch it our eyes met and he suddenly recognized me. His eyes lit up instantly and he called out "Hey, Jonny!" as he rushed across to give me a bear hug.

"Hey, Johan," I replied as I hugged back, rubbing my hand through the bristled blonde hair on the top of his head and enjoying the feel of his hard muscled young body against mine and under my hands.

Seeing us together, the other boy dropped his feet to the ground, stood up and came over. He stood back a little shyly but with a big grin of welcome on his face and held out a hard and grubby paw. "I'm Ben," he said simply.

I gripped his hand. "I'm Jonathan," I said. "I can see you're Johan's brother," I added.

And so we set off down the promenade toward the hotel. The boys were excited, which surprised me really (spending the night with a client could hardly be a new adventure for them) and they chattered animatedly in between running on ahead and then back again, racing each other from lamp post to lamp post and generally being just noisy and boisterous boys.

As we went down the promenade I told the boys my plan of marching through the foyer as dad and sons, but they baulked when they saw which hotel it was.

"They know us here," said Johan, wrinkling his nose and curling his lip impishly, "They'll chuck us out and you too!"

"Ja!" said Ben, "Like when we went there with that German ou! That was a fokop!"

So I gave them the room number and they went around the back through the parking garage, where they were friendly with the attendant, and then up a service lift. When I got to my room they were waiting for me in the passage with beaming faces. The younger one, Ben, was already quite unabashedly fingering an obvious erection through the threadbare cloth of his too tight denim shorts.

I opened the door and they pushed in ahead of me, peeling off their pants literally as they went through the door. I caught a flash of two perfectly formed golden brown bums as they moved through the light of the table lamp and I noticed that each bore several angry purple horizontal stripes across them.

Ben dashed to switch on the TV and then both of them jumped up onto the beds, sitting with legs folded under them while Johan flicked through the channels until he came to the gay porn channel. He grinned up at me;

"Ag it's nothing," said Johan, looking relieved that that was all I wanted to know.

After a pause Johan said "Ag, it was Henk. You know? I told you about him! The guy who pimps us?"

"Well, he wanted Ben and me to do a job for him tonight and we told him no, we're busy."

"We're boertjies, we can take it'!" Johan laughed, "We're not pap like you English okes!"

"He's got this lekker, like, cane, with silver on top that he always carries," Ben offered, sitting up and twisting around so I could see the livid welts across his buttocks.

"But 3; he doesn't own you! He can't just hit you guys because you don't want to do a job for him."

"Ja Jonny, in your world maybe. You don't know anything about our world, man! Henk beats all his boys. He can beat us anytime he wants. What am I gonna do? Go to the cops? What am I gonna tell them? He beat me because my arse was too sore to take another client's big dick up it? They will laugh at me, man! And if that bastard Sergeant Scholtz is on duty he would cane me and fuck me himself, like he done before!"

"Don't worry about it, really. We're pretty tough, you know, and we're used to it. And Henk is not so bad. He always hugs us after he beats us and says he's sorry he has to do it or we will think he's gone soft and can do what we like. And today he even fucked us both afterward to let us know he forgave us!"

In any other circumstance I might have been angry with Henk but instead I felt strangely aroused. Johan noticed and eyed my crotch with a grin.

"Hey, I saw your cock go hard there! You can also whip me just now if it makes you jags!"

"Jislaaik!" said Ben, fingering his own erect cocklet as he watched someone's gigantic dick pumping in and out of a young guy's arse on the TV screen, "Check that ou's moerse tril."

"Ja, it's moers," agreed Johan, his own cock lengthening rapidly like a filling hosepipe where it lay between his beefy thighs.

I watched the two tanned and beautifully made boys as they gazed enthralled at the sex play on the TV screen as if it was new to them. Once again I marveled at Johan's complete lack of body hair. At the age of 14 most boys have developed a respectable bush of pubic hair. Apart from the lightest dusting of soft golden down here and there Johan had the smooth and hairless skin of a ten year old. He had told me the last time we met that it was something he and his brother had inherited from their father. And it was obvious that his 12 year old brother was equally hairless.

My own cock was by now hard and erect and tenting my shorts. Johan suddenly looked up at me, grinned and patted the bed next to him, inclining his head in invitation.

"Take your clothes off and get comfortable," he said, as if he owned the place and I was his guest.

I quickly pushed my shorts to the floor and stepped out of them, at the same time pulling my shirt over my head and dropping it on my shorts before jumping on the bed. I lay back against the pillows with my legs stretched out. As I lay there I reached out to stroke the leathery road blackened soles of Johan's big broad feet where they stuck out beneath the firm brown globes of his buttocks. Johan twisted around to give me a smile; and the way his back and shoulder muscles bunched when he did so sent a quiver through my cock. He turned back to watch the porn movie but at the same time casually wrapped his strong young fist around my shaft and almost absently began to stroke and play with it.

After a while I moved my hand up to stroke his muscled brown back, running my fingers down in long feather strokes from the smooth shaved back of his neck, over the long bulging muscles on either side of his spine down into the deep cleft at the top of his buttocks. Johan practically purred with pleasure as I did this and the smooth skin of his back positively quivered with gooseflesh wherever my fingers touched him.

I looked across at Ben on the other bed. He was also now lying back against the pillows with his legs stretched out, his hard brown feet crossed, and watching the porn movie with slack mouthed raptness as he fingered the tip of his rock hard little cock with steadily increasing rapidity.

"Slow down, Ben, you got the whole night still!" Johan addressed his brother sharply.

"Sorry," he said and at once laid the palms of his hands flat on the bed on either side of him as he went back to watching the movie with his cocklet bobbing up and down against the hard fatless ridges of his belly muscles in time with what must have been a thumping heart beat.

Now Johan leaned forward, supporting his upper body on his elbows, raising his beautiful round arse in the air and spreading his knees apart in mute invitation to me to finger his now exposed and flexing anus even as he continued to watch the porn movie.

I caught an intoxicating whiff of Johan's teen boy smell and I moved closer to him to breathe more deeply of it. His beach boy fragrance of adolescent sweat, salt, sun, sea and sand mingled excitingly with the stronger musk of male sex. The tiny globules of rubbery cum still clinging to the soft downy hairs of his lower back and the creamy moistness of his butt crack testified to a busy afternoon in the beach front washrooms.

Instead of being repelled by the detritus of Johan's washroom sex I was strangely excited by it. I greased my long middle finger in the mix of cum and vaseline lining the valley floor between Johan's firm round buttocks crack and slowly slid it into his warm and inviting hole. A glob of cum dribbled out beneath my finger as I drew it back.

"Jeez!" I exclaimed, "You're bung full of cum here! Must have been a busy afternoon!"

"Ja," Johan replied matter-of-factly, "It was Henk's clients. I finished just before you came. Musta been a whole mini-bus of Dutch guys. College swim team. Fuck, they was big okes, hey! I thought some of them was gonna split my arse open!"

"And me, too!" piped up Ben, "I hadda help!" He held up a hand with his thumb folded onto the palm: "I took four of them in my arse. Four, hey! One after the other: Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!"

"Ja!" laughed Johan, "Ben was cool! You could see he was sore from those moerse big fucken Dutch cocks in his arse, but he kept saying, like: "Okay, Kaaskop, you next!"

Ben beamed with pride at this praise from his brother and started fisting his cocklet again until Johan spoke sharply once more: "Ben! I told you!"

Again Ben said "Sorry," and put his hands palm down on the bed, shutting his eyes to the sexual stimulation surrounding him in an effort to stay the climax that his throbbing cocklet was threatening.

Continuing to pump my finger in and out of Johan's slippery anus I said to him, "Why musn't Ben cum? He can have a bit of fun too, can't he?"

"Ben doesn't really cum, he just has dry throbs," Johan replied between sighs of pleasure at the finger fucking I was giving him, "It's just that he must keep his energy for you

I was about to protest that I had already told Johan that I was not ready to have sex with a twelve year old but the protest died in my throat as I looked across at Ben and realised that I was in fact more than ready to have sex with him. So I said nothing and carried on finger fucking Johan, adding a second finger and then a third without any sign of discomfort from Johan. At the same time I took Johan's by now fully erected cock in my other hand and slowly slid my fist up and down its hard thick shaft.

Soon Johan was grunting with pleasure and his cock was dribbling a steady stream of silvery precum onto the bedcover. Suddenly he twisted away from me and called out, "Stop! Stop! I don't wanna cum yet!"

I lay back on the bed as, still on all fours; Johan turned around and crept up between my legs, pushing them apart as he advanced. He took my straining cock in his fingers and lifted it up to his lips from where it was bobbing against my belly. He stuck out a long pink tongue and licked around my bulging cockhead to take up the precum that was practically bubbling out at that point. Then he took the whole of my cockhead, purple with engorged blood and swollen to the size of a small apple, into his wide warm mouth, his bright blue eyes catching my eyes and twinkling at me as he did so. His supple lips and strong tongue worked an electric magic on my cock that had me gasping in seconds, my vision a blur and every muscle in my body taut and quivering as I surrendered myself to his power.

Just as I thought my cock was going to explode Johan opened his mouth and released me from its mesmeric thrall.

"Open your legs more and lift your knees up to your shoulders like I showed you last time!" he ordered as he scooped up his precum, spat on his palm and lubed up his boner with the mix, "I'm gonna fuck you now!"

Eager to get involved, Ben scrambled off the other bed and took up a position straddling my head with his knees touching my ears. I had to wriggle down off the pillows so he could fit in at the top of the bed. He took hold of my ankles in his hard strong paws and pulled them back and apart so that my arse lifted and my hole was exposed to Johan's entry. Johan pulled the pillows out from under my head and shoved them under my buttocks to lift them a bit higher.

Looking upward my vision was channeled between Ben's strong smooth thighs to the pink pucker of his anus beckoning between the spread apart mounds of his firmly rounded young buttocks. A few inches above my nose the hairless brown orbs of his pre-teen testicles were pulled up tight against the base of his hard and swollen cocklet. His fleshy little dick, too young to ooze precum, was so hard and erect that it twitched as it pressed against the hard brown bulges of his belly muscles.

Then I felt Johan's cockhead pressing against my anus as he leaned forward, supporting his upper body with one fist pressed against the bed and aiming his shaft with the other.

"Make it loose!" he said to me between his grunts of effort, "Did you forget how, already?"

"Jislaaik! It feels just as tight as last time, man! Didn't you get fucked since then?"

"No," I moaned through my teeth, gritted against the pain of his assault, "You were the last."

"Ag shame, man, I'm gonna hurt you now!" was his reply, unsympathetic despite the words.

Finally Johan gained entry and I could feel his hard thick cock slide all the way into me, filling me in that exquisitely painful yet warmly satisfying feeling that I remembered from the last time this 14 year old boy had fucked me and that I suddenly realised I had been yearning for ever since.

I gasped in pain at first as Johan pushed his cock in and out of me with the unsubtle vigour and roughness one would expect of a young teenage boy. After a while, however, the pain subsided and was replaced by intense feelings of pleasure as Johan gradually accelerated his thrusting until he was pumping into me like a piston, grunting like a wild animal, his mouth open, his tongue hanging out, his eyes glazed and his body covered in a sheen of sweat.

As the muscular young teenager banged away at my arse I slid a hand around the back of his brother's smooth muscled thigh and explored his elastic pre-teen anus with my middle finger. Like Johan, Ben's hole was also still liberally lubricated with a mix of Vaseline and cum from the four members of the Dutch swimming team that he had taken up his arse barely an hour before. My finger slid easily into his well used and well oiled channel and he began to rise up and down slightly above my face as I pumped first one and then two and then three fingers into him, feeling his sphincter ring give way willingly as I stretched my fore and middle fingers apart to make way for the third.

"Haai, oom dis lekker!" Ben called out and then he began to croon with pleasure.

After a while Ben dropped down over me, supporting his upper body with his left hand pressed against the bed, wrapping his little boy fingers around my thick cock as far as they would go and lifting it to the vertical before sucking my swollen purple cockhead into his mouth. His smooth young balls rested against my lips and my nose and his hard cocklet pressed against my chin. I started licking and sucking at his balls, exhilarated by their own musk and sea salt taste. While still fingerfucking him with my one hand I used my other hand to prize his rock hard little dick away from where it was pressed against his sweaty brown belly and pull it downward into my mouth, sliding back the big loose bag of his velvety soft foreskin with my lips.

As my tongue slid over his walnut sized dick head I tasted the sharp tang of unwashed boy cock. Once again something that would normally have disgusted me now just heightened my excitement.

While Ben's tongue darted around my cockhead and Johan's thick meat pumped away at my arse I sucked Ben's hard little shaft all the way into my mouth until his balls rested against my lips. Ben, his mouth filled with my own cock, gave a muffled squeal of pleasure. Automatically, he started humping my mouth. He humped faster and harder. It felt like he was trying to shove his cock down my throat. Suddenly he stopped thrusting and sucking my cock. I felt his body stiffen above me as his cock started spasming rapidly in my mouth. I felt a smidgen of salty cum spurt onto my tongue as Ben shuddered and moaned with ecstasy.

Just then Johan started moving rapidly to climax, pumping harder and faster, expelling his breath in short grunting jerks in time with his thrusting, his smooth golden brown body shiny with sweat, his bulging ab and pec muscles bunching and rippling with the effort until he too came to a juddering halt, bellowing his pleasure as his cock went into spasm, squirting out its great jets of hot cum deep inside me.

As Johan pulled out of me, Ben released my cock from his mouth and moved forward over me to straddle my midriff with his back to me, his broad brown feet planted sturdily on the bed either side of my hips. Johan held my straining cock erect as Ben lowered himself onto it. I was amazed at how smoothly my dick entered his elastic hole and slid into his tube, even though it looked as if it was stretching his sphincter to breaking point.

Johan scooted on his knees around to my side and bent over my belly to watch closely as his younger brother's bum hole slid down onto my thick shaft. Halfway down Ben stopped moving for a short while and I could actually feel his ring flexing against my cock as he prepared to take more of me inside him.

I could not trust myself to reply. The sensations I was experiencing were incredible.

A moment later Ben slid all the way down my shaft until his hard round buttocks touched my groin. Again he waited for a while, breathing hard as he got used to having me inside him. As he did so he went down onto his knees, sliding first one foot and then the other backwards, rocking from side to side on my cock and generating the most exquisite spasms of pleasure in the tip of my cock. I reached out and gripped his strong hard feet, loving the rough leathery feel of his dirty, thick-skinned soles under my palms.

With his hands on his hips, Ben started raising and lowering his body up and down my cock, slowly at first and then gradually faster and faster, the muscles of his buttocks and back knotting and writhing spectacularly under his glistening brown skin as he expertly massaged my dick into a high state of electrifying pleasure. Every now and then he would twist around and grin at me, beaming with pride and pleasure in the knowledge that he was good at his work.

Then suddenly the rapidly intensifying pleasure in the tip of my cock mushroomed into an explosion of ecstasy that arched my whole body into a quivering bow, lifting Ben off the bed as I thrust into him repeatedly, loosing bolt after bolt of thick hot cum deep inside his channel.

Once again I had been transported by a boy, a young pre-teen boy, to a plane of sheer ecstasy that no woman had ever taken me to.

Briefly sated for the moment, the three of us lay on the bed together, myself in the middle and Ben and Johan on either side of me.

"Tell me about what happened with Sergeant Scholtz," I said to Johan eventually, intrigued and not a little aroused by what he had let slip earlier.

"What you want to know for?" he asked, "You not gonna go cause shit there, are you?"

"Well 3; nothing much to tell 3; I got cross with Henk one day 'cause he beat me when I didn't want to go to this big party at this rich Charrah's place to give bum to his friends and clients. They call him the Rajah and his place is called the Rajah's Palace. It's like a club – like a big fucken mansion on a private beach near Sheffield where okes can sleep over. Anyway, so 3; I went to the cop shop to report him. Only I came across Sergeant Scholtz. Turns out Henk is his big mate. So he calls Henk on the phone. When Henk comes they take me into this concrete room deep in the basement and then have turns whipping my arse with those long thick canes they got." Johan shuddered at the memory.

"Jissie, that was sore. After the first few jacks I was yelling «Okay, Okay, I'll go!» but Sergeant Scholtz kept on hitting me until I was screaming like a girl!"

"When they got tired of hearing me scream Sergeant Scholtz fucked my arse real hard with his gigantic fucken piel while Henk watched. Then Henk had a turn while Sergeant Scholtz watched – but that wasn't so bad 'cos Henk is not so big."

"Of course I went to that party. And you know what? After I got there with Henk Sergeant Scholtz also came. Turns out he's big buddies with the Rajah too!" he chuckled.

"Ja," said Johan, "And know what else? That party went on the whole weekend. I never made so much money before, although I couldn't hardly walk for a few days afterward! I was glad Henk and the Sergeant beat me and made me go."

"I also go now," Ben piped up proudly, "We make the most money at those parties."

"Ja, we go often now. We're going this weekend. You should come too." added Johan, "I can score you an invite if you want. I got for other clients before. And I get commission from the Rajah if you come. You'll like it. It's great! There's lotsa boys there. Some older than me. Some younger than Ben even. It's like 3; like just fucking and sucking in your face the whole weekend! But you gotta bring plenty cash!"

"You book in like at a hotel. You can stay one night or the whole weekend or even longer, if you like."

"Lots of things. Anything you like. You can order 'room service' from the boy menu. You can visit the 'theme areas' where you can be a Roman emperor fucking your boy slave or a ship's captain fucking your cabin boy and stuff like that."

"We do the surfer boy thing on the beach. You know, 'cos we got the muscles and the tan and we swim good!"

"We hang around and swim kaalgat on the beach until guys come and then we play with them in the sea or on the sand or in the pool they got there until they ready to fuck."

I saw that Johan and Ben were both hardening again at the memory of their beach front orgies.

"Well, boys, I don't know if I "m ready for that yet, but I see you're ready to play some more now."

My two beautiful young Afrikaner boys were insatiable that night and somehow I seemed to draw from their inexhaustible store of energy too. We had sex again and again and when I was too tired the pair of them would take turns fucking each other, as much for their own pleasure as mine.

It was past midnight when we finally settled down to sleep, cuddled together on the one bed, and I slept the deepest, most peaceful, sleep that I had slept in a long time.

Durban schools were on holiday that week, so the boys did not have to hurry back home in the morning (although I got the impression that they were frequent truants and that it would not have bothered them unduly to miss school if it suited them). So, after getting them washed and showered I treated them to a big breakfast at the Wimpy. Then they left me and wandered off down the beachfront.

I watched them go, blonde, tanned and shirtless, their leathery bare feet padding on the walkway and their beach bags on their muscled brown backs. They looked like any of the many other young boys heading for a day of surf and sun on the fine white sands of Durban's beachfront. It struck me that no one who saw them would ever dream that these two young boys would spend much of the day getting their kicks (and a good amount of cash) from having grown men's cocks rammed up their arses and down their throats. It made me glance at some of the other young beach boys passing by and wonder how many of them would also be happy to take a cock up their arses for a few bucks in between swims.

I felt a stirring in my shorts as I thought of this and in a brief moment of madness wanted to run after Johan and Ben and drag them off to the nearest washhouse for a fuck.

Then I got hold of myself, telling myself to be patient and wait for tonight. The boys had agreed to be with me each night of my stay, except Friday through Sunday night, when they were booked for another weekend orgy at the "Rajah's Palace". They begged me to come, promising they could get me an invitation, but it sounded to me too much like a flirtation with the crime underworld of Durban, so I said I would think about it and let them know by Thursday night.

So I went back to my hotel to change for my work appointment at the factory later that morning. I have to confess, though, that my concentration that day was not what it should have been as I daydreamed constantly about the sex I would enjoy that night with the two boys.

Chapter Three

No matter how hard I tried, I could not get them out of my mind and I spent the day hiding unruly teenager type erections or wanking them off in the bathroom as images of their blonde hair, muscled bodies, smooth tanned skin, hard cocks and firm round arses chased each other round my thoughts like a slide show on crack.

At lunchtime, unable to stand it any longer, I managed to get away on some pretext and I rushed back to my hotel to change into shorts, T-shirt and slops before heading for the Durban beach front area.

I was not long before I found Ben. Actually, it was he who found me. I was hanging about in the vicinity of the public pool change house, which the boys had told me was their usual beat, when I heard Ben calling:

I turned to see the 12 year old waving at me as he emerged from the pool where he had evidently been taking a dip. Barefoot and shirtless as always, he was wearing a pair of old rugby shorts that seemed a couple of sizes too small, hugging his buttocks closely and looking like he had a live rat stuffed down the front of them.

Ben rushed over and flung his arms round my waist. I rubbed a hand through his wet blonde bristles and hugged him back. My belly lurched as his luminescent blue eyes looked up at me and his broad face split in a wide-mouthed grin.

Ben grabbed my hand and started pulling me in the direction of the change house.

I pulled back instinctively, knowing what he had in mind, and glanced about guiltily to see who might be looking on, thinking that I would rather we went to the privacy and safety of my hotel room.

Then I glanced at Ben's lithely muscled body, wide full mouth, sparkling eyes and bulging shorts and that overcame all my reservations. With the blood pounding in my temples I allowed the eager young rent boy to lead me to his lair.

The change house lights were switched off, or not working, and the white tiled walls struggled to disperse the cool gloominess of the unlit interior. Ben's leathery bare feet padded softly over the grey tiled floor just ahead of me. His warm moist hand still held onto mine with a strong grip, as if afraid I might make a dash for it.

The air inside the building pressed thickly into my nostrils: The ammoniac smell of cleaning fluid mingled with the sea and sand salt smell of the beach and the faint wafts of urine and sweat that characterise public bathrooms everywhere.

Ben stopped in front of a metal locker. He produced a key from somewhere and teased open an old brass padlock. Inside was a scruffy beach bag which he yanked out. Snapping the padlock shut he swivelled on a hard bare heel and grabbed my hand again, leading me to one of the change cubicles.

There was a strong smell of dagga (cannabis) smoke in the locker room. It came from two fuzzy-eyed young boys sitting on the floor with their backs to the wall, sucking at a joint that they passed from one to the other. One wore a threadbare towel around his waist and the other was naked. Both had a shock of sandy sun-bleached hair that looked like it had not sampled shampoo for a month. Both had the same wary, appraising, hungry, feral look that Ben and his brother wore like a badge of their profession and I realised that these were Durban rent boys too.

"So would you be if you got out and hustled instead of sitting here smoking weed all day!" Ben retorted, "Henk's gonna whip your asses today."

The other looked me up and down and, while holding my eye, spread his legs and deliberately rubbed the palm of his hand up and down his bulging crotch.

"Fuck off Kris! Go find your own!" he said amiably, peeling off his wet shorts even before we entered the change cubicle.

Once inside, Ben closed the door and turned to face me in the small space, his impressive young cocklet already ramrod stiff and rubbing against his smooth flat belly.

"You still dressed? Jeez, you're slow!" he said with a grin, "It's gotta be quick in and out here!'.

He reached out both hands, inserted a thumb into each side of my waistband and slid my shorts to the floor in one smooth movement. As usual, I was not wearing underpants and Ben purred his approval. As I pulled off my T shirt he closed hard strong fingers around my rapidly erecting cock and started wanking me vigorously, the pink tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated hard on the job in hand.

Ben quickly had me rock hard and grunting my pleasure. Every now and then he would dart a pink tongue at my cock head to catch the precum that was dribbling out copiously. Soon I felt his wide warm lips slip over my swollen purple head and suck my cock deep into its warm moistness. After sliding slowly up and down the whole length of my shaft a few times he gripped the shaft in his hand and pumped at it while vigorously working his supple lips and strong tongue all over and around my cock head.

Just as I thought the rapidly swelling ecstasy of pleasure would blow the top of my head off, Ben let me go and turned to fish in his beach bag for a tube of lube. As he did so he bent down in front of me with his legs apart and presented his arse to me.

I saw what looked like a red plastic disc flat against his anus. I reached out and touched it gingerly.

I worked my fingers around and under the disc and pulled against it. It was stuck firmly and my fingers slid off.

"I smaak (like) the feeling," Ben explained, "And Johan says it helps stretch my hole more, "cause it's still a bit tight for the okes with big trils, like you"

"I thought you were walking a bit like you had a carrot up your arse," I laughed, "Now I know why!"

I took a firm hold of the plastic disk and pulled hard against it. Slowly the butt plug lifted out of Ben's arse, making soft sucking noises as it did so. I looked under the disk and was amazed at how thick the shaft of the plug was. It got stuck briefly and I tugged a bit harder. Ben grunted softly and I saw the muscles of his back and buttocks tighten. I saw that the plug's thick shaft was widening yet further, looking like it was stretching Ben's 12 year old bum hole to breaking point. Then suddenly it pulled free and Ben sighed his relief from the momentary pain. I saw that the plug had a bulb in its shaft and I realised that it must be intended to prevent it being accidentally ejected from Ben's arse.

"Don't worry!" Ben chuckled, "It's clean!" He held up a plastic squirt bottle with a long nozzle and squirted out a jet of soapy water.

I put the bulbous red butt plug down on the slatted wooden bench. Ben spread his sturdy legs wide apart and offered me his arse, his hole flexed open about a finger width. He twisted his head round to grin at me.

Hurriedly slathering some of Ben's lube on my cock, I put one hand palm down on the smooth tanned skin of his young back while I guided the bulging purple head of my rock hard cock to push against the beckoning lips of his hole.

Despite the stretching effect of the butt plug Ben's young ring was a still a bit of a tight fit for my swollen shaft and entry was slow as it widened steadily. The effort for Ben was evident from his low sighs, the tightening of his back muscles under my hand, and the way he would suddenly push up onto his toes, as if trying to evade the onslaught. As I pushed myself deeper into him his arse ring actually pulsed a few times, squeezing and releasing my cock and inducing an incredible wave of pleasure as it did so.

"Learned it 3; from this Chinese 3; trawler guy 3; at the 3; Seaman's Club," Ben panted as he tried to do it again.

"Aaah," he moaned, "Sorry 3; Can't 3; do it for 3; long 3; yet 3; Gotta practice 3; more 3;"

Finally I was all the way inside Ben. I paused to let him adjust but Ben reached behind and patted my thigh with his hard little hand.

"Moenie wag nie, Oom! Naai my! Naai my!" he said, lapsing into Afrikaans. (Don't wait, Uncle! Fuck me! Fuck me!)

Needing no further encouragement I quickly pulled out until I could feel my swollen head pull up against his arse ring. Then I took a grip of his shoulders before thrusting my cock hard all the way back inside the warm softness of his channel.

Ben's muscles knotted up under my hands and he groaned in pain even as he grunted out through clenched teeth, "Gaan aan! Gaan aan!" (Go on! Go on!)

I could not have stopped myself even if he had begged me to and in very short order I was pumping his sweet young arse hard and fast. In minutes Ben's moans of pain had turned to a soft crooning of pleasure.

For a long while there was just the sound of flesh slapping on flesh and Ben's and my grunting as my thick cock pistoned in and out of Ben's delicious fuck tube. Perspiration poured off both of us as the intensity of feeling in the tip of my cock swelled and grew.

As I felt myself rushing to climax, I had a sudden urge to see my cum splatter over the smooth tanned skin of Ben's back, so I withdrew and started pumping the tip of my cock with my hand.

Quickly I pushed my straining cock back into Ben and lay forward over his strong young back as the tip of my cock exploded in exquisite waves of ecstasy that billowed through my whole body.

No sooner had my cock stopped pulsing inside him when Ben pulled himself off it, turned around and took its shaft into his wide mouth, sucking and licking up and down its length to clean off what remained of my cum.

I reached a hand down to his still stiff and bobbing cock but he brushed it away.

Ben lifted his one foot onto the bench and squatted down slightly as he deftly inserted the butt plug back into his arse. Some of my cum dribbled down the inside of his thigh as he did so.

Then he scooped up his shorts and his beach bag from the floor before pulling open the cubicle door.

"See ya later, Jonny!" he called over his shoulder as he headed out the change room.

"Hey, what about your money?" I called after him, fumbling for my wallet in my clothes.

"On the house, Jonny!" he called back with a wave of his hand as he disappeared around the corner.

The other two rent boys were still hanging about in the change room. Both were naked now, their bodies wet from the shower they had just taken. Their faces brightened on hearing my last interchange with Ben.

"Hey mister," said the one Ben had called Kris, "You c'n have Adi and me both for what you were gonna pay Ben!"

I looked over the two boys. They were older than Ben, about fourteen or fifteen. Although they were not as well muscled as the young Afrikaner, there was something in the hard wiriness of their lean brown bodies that stirred my gut. Like any rent boys worth their salt, their teenage cocks were long and their balls were large.

"Aw c'mon, mister," he said, pointing at my slowly elongating cock, "You know you want to!"

"Don't worry, mister, we'll give you a real good time!" said Kris as he came up to me and closed his fingers around my cock.

Koos Smit

Beach Front Boy

Summary

Characters

Category & Story codes

Disclaimer

Author's Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

GLOSSARY