1. European Adventure


    Date: 10/6/2015, Categories: True Story, Anal, Ass to mouth, Blowjob, Boy / Boy, Gay, Oral Sex, Author: raider187, Rating: 76.2, Source: sexstories.com

    England, Spain, Japan, France, and a couple of Americans. I walked into a conversation about different norms for picking people up, a conversation I desperately wanted to hear. The French were discussing how they do a lot of surveillance and debating before they talk to someone, something I knew all too well. I asked them why, to which they replied that they tend to see this person afterward, and want to make sure that opening up to them is the right choice. Someone snorted. I looked over to see a gorgeous 6’2” tan guy quickly putting his head down as if to hide from the curiosity of the people around him. He was exquisite. His dark brown hair rested in a bun on top of his head and he was wearing short shorts and a button up shirt. His calves were extenuated by his rolled down hiking socks and his muscular thighs rested on the chair, leaving little to the imagination. He quickly said that in the United States, where he was from, that people just go for what they immediately find attractive, leaving them to later regret when their one night stand turns out to be a little crazy. His voice was deep, but not masculine. He had a friendly air to his voice and a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. After talking for a while, I went to the room to change into my swim trunks. It was mid afternoon and I wanted to hit the beach while the sun was still out. On my way out, I ran into Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome in the stairwell. We exchanged quick half smiles and continued in our separate ...
    directions. The experience at the beach was something else. The women tanned with their tops off, and the men adorned the tightest, shortest of speedos. The freedom of the culture still amazes me to this day. Spending a good majority of my school days playing water polo and being around guys in speedos didn’t prepare me for this. The cut and shape of their speedos was almost sensual, matching the curves of their bodies or the ripples of their muscles. Speedos back home were either too tight for the wrong people, or too loose for the right ones. I descend onto the beach and found it difficult to walk; sand was nonexistent and in its place were large stones that either poked your feet or slid out from under you while you walked. I found a space on the beach and set out my towel. As I removed my shirt and sat down on my towel, I looked out over the water and took in the beautiful view. Someone sat next to me a couple of feet away. I felt something hit my feet. I looked down to see an orange t-shirt on my toes. I looked to my left and had to help my jaw from falling down. A beautiful man, probably in his late thirties, was standing above me in a white speedo. He repeated something to me. “Quoi?” I asked him. He repeated in French if I could hand him his shirt, he accidently dropped it on me taking it off. I quickly handed it to him, apologizing. HE smiled and sat down, Hearing my accent and asking me where I was from. As we began to speak I learned that he was form Paris but moved to ...
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