EXTRACT FOR
A Week In Provence
(Fergie Boy)

A Week in Provence



Excerpt



My plan for the following day was simple: lazing by the pool reading a good book with the occasional dip in the pool to cool down; then a long walk later on and three fucks at Giles's ass - I needed to keep up on my quota, and keep my spoiled little rich boy happy. 

I had got up early and breakfasted long before anyone else had surfaced. The family celebrations for the return of the prodigal brother had clearly gone on late into the night and they were sleeping off some serious hangovers. 

By ten o'clock I was lounging by the pool, welcoming the early rays of the sun which were not too severe on my pale Scottish skin, losing myself in the pages of some fictional yarn, and shedding the foreboding which I had taken to bed and wrestled with during the night. 

Then he emerged through the patio doors wearing a baggy T-shirt and shorts, a towel draped over his shoulder - my nemesis elect, and tormentor of my mind.

"Morning!" cried Nick. "Sleep well?"

"Yes thank you. And you."

"Like a log. Too much bloody brandy, though; feeling a little groggy; thought a swim might clear the cobwebs."

Nick walked over to the outdoor shower, which was about ten yards away from me and directly opposite to where I lay. He was whistling some jaunty tune, seemingly un-phased by my presence and the eye contact of the previous day. He threw the towel nonchalantly down on a nearby sun bed then he started to remove his clothing. I watched on from under hooded eyes whilst pretending to be interested in my book; but I was hypnotised by what was happening in front of me. It was an innocent act as he prepared for his swim, but with only me for an audience; it took on a new perspective.



'No harm in looking!

Really? Then why do I feel that I should look away? Then why is my heart racing with a trapped animal's fear?



The T-shirt came off first. He removed it slowly, suspiciously so, seemingly lingering over his action; but I was no true judge of time at that moment. Time was meaningless, only now existed for my eyes. The material was raised to reveal a washboard stomach, ripped abdominals and a teasing thin band of hair running down from his navel and disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. Then onwards the T-shirt was lifted, slowly exposing the mass of his pectoral muscles, which were beautifully proportioned, devoid of any hair and crowned with pert little nipples. As his arms were raised above his head, I saw the brown hair in his pits glistening with morning sweat; pheromones exuding into the air, rich and pungent after a good nights sleep. The sight and smell of his manliness was an intoxicating mix and I breathed it deeply in. 

He held this pose for a few seconds as he struggled to prise the clothing over his head, affording me a clear view of his magnificent frame whilst his head was shielded under cover. His biceps were bulging to an impressive degree; his stomach pulled taught by the action, highlighting his stunning abs. 

Then the T-shirt was off, cast onto the sun bed where his towel had gone before it. He must have known I was staring at him, all pretence at reading now gone. But he gave no reaction; he just carried on as if I wasn't there, which somehow heightened my voyeuristic pleasure in the spectacle of his strip. 

He turn away before he unbuttoned his shorts, unexpected modesty perhaps coming into play, or embarrassment over a genetic shortfall which I knew very well through his nephew. Whatever, his action allowed me a good view of his back; which he had not ignored during the long hours he must have spent in the gym developing his body. It was beautifully contoured; a deep valley along his spine and wide lateral wings, packed muscles on his upper back and bulging deltoids on his shoulders. 

Then the shorts came down, inched slowly as he bent forwards, to reveal the mounds of his buttocks encased in a pair of light green trunks. For a moment he was bent fully over as his hands and the shorts reached his ankles; allowing me to gaze at the fullness of his ass, so provocatively aimed in my direction. It was only a moment that he held this pose but it was an unnecessary delay in the removal of his shorts, or at least it seemed as such to me. I'm sure he could have argued otherwise if challenged, but he knew that was unlikely to happen. He gave me a moment to look at his ass, then the shorts were kicked off and he straightened up, and a moment later he was under the shower.

Nick turned on the water and allowed it to cascade down his incredible body, head raised skywards and eyes tightly closed to avoid the spray. His back was still turned to me and my eyes were fixed to the swell of his rear; the light green swimming trunks, now obligingly wet, showed off his arse very clearly. It was beautifully rounded, pert and full - the rival of his nephew's, possibly better; a mesmerising sight. 

Then Nick started to wash himself; hands lathered with gel were spread over his body, his chest and legs and then his back. I watched on, hypnotised by this simple act of bathing, wishing that it was my hands that were soaping his skin, caressing his golden brown flesh. Unconsciously my hand drifted to my cock which was rigid and oozing from the eye; I stroked it gently and toyed with the head, massaging it with my juices. I watched as Nick's hands rubbed his lower back and I watched as I rubbed my cock. Then I gasped as Nick's hands sunk under the material and started to wash his buttocks.

It was so casually done, innocent in a way. No reason not to clean ones ass. The trunks were pushed down at the rear to the top of his thighs and the buttocks got thoroughly lathered and massaged. I could scarcely breathe as I watched him; his hands caressing his ass, gliding over the soapy buttocks and tantalisingly pulling them apart. He washed himself shamelessly, forcing a hand into the crevice so that all would be thoroughly cleaned. Then as the shower water rinsed the lather away, splattering his buttocks and coursing down the heavenly gulley they created; Nick hands drifted to the side, affording me a clear view of his magnificent ass. 

And by God, it was magnificent! Now that I could see it in its naked glory, it was better than Giles's, no question about that; stunningly rounded, two beautiful plump orbs which were tanned to an even light brown, matching the rest of his skin. It was the most fuckable piece of meat I had ever set eyes on, being teasingly displayed by this arrogant man, who knew fine well the reaction he was gaining. I gazed with pure lust for the few seconds he allowed me, my cock twitching and demanding more than my hand, which it had grown weary of over the past month. A few seconds, that was all he gave me of this incredible vision; then a moment later it was covered up, and Nick turned around.

His head was still under the water, and his eyes were closed to avoid the spray, so he didn't see my gaping stare or embarrassing state of arousal; the throbbing cock that I was rubbing through the material of my trunks. He stood there in his magnificence, the water coursing down his skin, washing any remaining lather away. He stood there proud as I took it all in... as I feasted my eyes on his crotch.

It was a beautiful sight. Highlighted by the wet lycra that barely contained him, Nick's manhood was clear to see. It was turgid, but not fully hard. A thick bulge that snaked from the centre of his groin all the way from his balls to the side of his hip, where the hem of his trunks was lifted from the leg and a flash of purple could just be discerned. I was transfixed, unconcerned that he might open his eyes and see my lustful gaze. 

After a few moments stillness, luxuriating under the water, Nick raised his hands to his head and ran his fingers through his hair. The stretching action drew his stomach upwards and revealed a few teasing wisps of light brown pubic hair; and as an added bonus to this glorious sight, a fraction more of his big bulbous glans edged out from under the trunks. Then the arms were dropped and he turned again, depriving my eyes of this fabulous package but treating them again with his fabulous ass. The water was turned off, and without so much as a glance, he plunged into the pool and disappeared under the water.

He swam twenty lengths at a very good pace, breaststroke alternated with front crawl. Then he got out of the pool and rescued his clothing, wrapped the towel around his waist. He left without another look or word.

         



Words: 33,000

Genre: Gay, Gay/Lesbian Fiction, Erotic Romance.

Setting: Modern Day France

Price: $3.49