At least my wallet wouldn't be so thick. We got up, and I realized I had had quite enough to drink. I wasn't drunk, but I was light-headed, and had to concentrate as we went back to the compartment. In between the last two cars, Giordano pulled me to a stop, and I turned into his embrace, kissing him with a light-headedness that surely could not have been merely the wine. He touched me lightly, with the fingertips of his right hand through my jeans, and I felt a shock of first contact. He moaned in my mouth, and I in his, and my hand went automatically to his butt. The globe of it fit perfectly into my hand, my fingertips just at the crease of his jeans. He moaned again, higher, and I pulled him to me, almost lifting him off the platform.
He pulled his lips back from mine and said again, "It is time." We separated, and I followed him to the compartment. He opened the door, and where once was the pair of facing seats was now an almost full-size bed, the wine and two glasses on the little table at the window, two pillows and a chocolate on each, a silver bucket of ice and a bottle of water on the tiny desktop, with two tumblers. A pair of red rosebuds stood in a vase next to it. I closed the door behind me and locked it without looking, as Giordano turned round and melted into me, his torso fitting into mine like key into lock. We were standing there kissing passionately, fully clothed one moment, and in only our underwear the next.
His chest was tanned and defined, the nipples like tiny barrels on the aureoles, surrounded by a light pelt of black hair that made the tanned skin beneath even more tantalizing. Without realizing it, my lips were on his left nipple, and I moved him back to the bed, my hands supporting his body as it tilted back, one under his shoulders, the other under the small of his back. His hands found the sides on my boxers, and they were pulled over my butt, down my thighs until my dick snapped from the confines of the elastic band and wedged between his legs. He let go of the boxers, and they fell to the floor. I picked the chocolates off the pillows and tossed them on the table, and swung him around so that his head would be on the pillow, and swiftly pulled his slip down, lifting my penis from between his legs so that the slip would pass. Giordano sat up a little as I did this, and grabbed my penis in his right hand.
"So big, so hard," he whispered, looking down, "So beautiful an instrument on so beautiful a man." I was putty in his hands. I looked down at his penis, and it was as hard as mine, standing proud and glistening with anticipation. He was tanned all over, from the beaches at Genoa, even his beautifully shaped penis.
It was perfectly proportioned for his body, perhaps seven inches long, maybe a little more. Slim, like his body, but with a much larger head, hardly hidden by his foreskin, already peeled back. His pubic hair was no different than his body hair, just a fraction longer, no curls at all, clinging tightly to the skin. I touched his balls, and they were silken, the orbs beneath the skin in proportion to his body, loose in their sac. I had not seen very many naked men up close, but Giordano was by far the most beautiful. I kissed his penis, his navel, licked his stomach, tasting of salt and musk. I touched my lips to his right nipple, and he squeezed my penis again, moaning, telling me he wanted me, inside him, wanted me to make him come, to take him to paradise. That was exactly what I wanted to do.
I lay beside him, my penis still in his right hand, and moved my right hand under his neck and head, lifting him to my lips. My left hand moved over his body slowly, touching, feeling. His hip bone jutted far out from the body, and I pinched it lightly. I traced each one of his ribs on the right side, the hollows between them eventually ending in the muscles that make angels fly. I rolled him lightly towards me, and traced his spine from neck to butt, and instead of stopping there, traced down the crack, lightly pausing at the entrance to his body, teasing it with my little finger, then tracing down the little line to his ball sack, over and up the length of his erection, to the slickness he was producing in readiness for me, at the same time lifting his right leg over my waist.
His hand left my penis only to let his leg pass, just holding me, lightly squeezing, forcing out more and more of my clear fluid, making a little pool in the hollow of his belly as he lay back, his left leg somehow under mine, as I crept into his embrace. I rolled over him, supporting my weight on my right elbow, still plumbing the depths of his throat with my tongue. His legs lifted around me, and he pushed me down a little, so that my penis was under his nuts, between his legs, nestled in the crack of his butt, but with the head a little painfully pressed into the sheet beneath him. I stopped worrying about getting hard for him. He moaned, more loudly than before, and I pulled back, afraid I might somehow be hurting him.
"You okay?" I asked in a whisper.
or "I want you inside me," he said looking up into my eyes.
"I want you to make me come with you inside me. Hurry!" I reared up a little on my knees and took my dick out from its nest in his crack. I smeared the clear liquid I could milk out on the head, and swiped the lube from the hollow in his belly, then spit a little in my hand. There wasn't enough, but I had no time or inclination to search for something else. It was going to be a long process to get all the way into him. I am ashamed to say that I didn't even consider the possibility of Aids, I ignored all the teachings about safe sex, I didn't have a condom anyway, and if I died and went to heaven tomorrow it would have been worth it. I'm not huge, I mean not for my size.
A little thick, I guess, especially at the base and the head. A little more than ten inches long, something like that. I could lick on it when I was fifteen, when it hit eight inches, and could get the head into my mouth when I hit sixteen, and it was nine and five eighths. Then I got taller all at once, and couldn't even reach it with the tip of my tongue by the time I was eighteen. That's all right. I mean we aren't supposed to have sex with ourselves, it's something to share. Andrew had no trouble taking all of me up his butt, but he's an inch taller than me. My cousins couldn't get me all inside them, no matter how hard we tried. I kept hitting sort of a barrier inside them, and they said it hurt a lot if I tried to get in any more. Andrew had the same feel inside of him, but I got through the barrier fine.
The guy at Steam Works wouldn't even let me try. But he was only five eight, something like that. Giordano is five eight, maybe five nine. I hoped he could take me completely, but it wouldn't matter if he couldn't. I just wanted inside him so bad, I couldn't breathe. He lifted his legs around my waist even before I was ready, and I had to pull back a little to get my penis under his balls. I watched the tip of it brush against the little spot, and rubbed it in a little to sort of slick it up. My right hand sort of lifted him up some, to get the angle right. Even hunched over, I had to hold my dick down with my left hand. He grabbed his butt on either side and pulled apart, and his hole got a little bigger, at least enough so that I could nestle the head of my dick in a moist place. I pushed a little, and it went a smidgen in. I leaned over him and kissed his lips, and he kept repeating, "Come inside me. Now."
I jabbed, and it popped in. The ring of muscle tried to cut the head off, it felt so tight. He moaned, but showed no sign of major pain, so I started a gently rocking, fucking myself into him a tiny bit at a time. I felt his ring moving gradually down my shaft as we kissed passionately. He hunched a little into me, still spreading his butt wide with his hands. I felt his fingers touching the sides of my dick, but he couldn't reach my balls. "More, more" he said in that wonderfully sexy hoarse voice, and I put more pressure on my dick. Something made things go more smoothly at one stage, and I hit the barrier in the bottom of him I know from my cousins means I can't go any farther. But he kept hunching into me, that tight ring of his stopping me from creaming off right away inside him. Suddenly, he let go of his butt and grabbed my hips and pulled me into him, using his legs on the small of my back as well, and I was Home. All the way, the ring of his entrance right at the base of my dick, impossibly tight. "Now," he said, whispering into my ear, moaning, almost keening.
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