Last summer (January here in Sydney, Australia) a friend of mine and I went down to a large food hall in the centre of the city and while we were munching on our Chicken Doner Kebabs (his with Chili sauce, mine with lots of humus) a gorgeous big hunk sits down a few tables away. A backpacker (well, he had a big backpack), he was tall (almost 2m), dark, in his mid twenties, had big, muscular, tree size legs, a deep tan (obviously NOT an Aussie -- we avoid the sun!) and a rugged and very handsome face with a bit of 3 day growth. And then I spotted the little Canadian flag stitched onto the back of his bag.
After I said goodbye to my mate, (fortunately, he had to go back to work), I summoned the courage to go over to this very straight looking stud and strike up a conversation. Asked him where in Canada he's from (I've been there many times and know it well) and replies in a sexy, deep French accent "Montreal". He's name's Michel and he's one of the many seemingly 100,000's of Holiday Work Visa backpackers from that other hemisphere that descend on our Australian shores each summer, every year. We talk about this and that and (sadly) he mentions a few of his previous girlfriends.
Anyway as it's so hot and he's got nothing happening till 6pm when he has to catch a bus to Melbourne, I invite him to my city apartment, a few blocks away, for a drink and to have a look at the harbour view (I live on the 40th floor). To my surprise he readily accepts. After we get back to my place, he sits and admire the view of Sydney Harbour (whilst I admire his bulging thighs, groin and chest) and spend the next few hours talking politics, society, Australian life and the universe etc. He keeps mentioning his current girlfriend (who just happens to be back in Canada) and I occasionally mention my boyfriend (who is in Brisbane for the day).
Suddenly, Arpoo, my pet parrot decides to fly over to Michel and sit on his shoulder and, of course, as any parrot owner will expect, a few seconds later the bird decides to do a big crap on his shirt! Michel looks upset so I get him to take off his shirt so I can wash it and he readily pulls it off to reveal the most gorgeous barrel chest and pecs ever seen! Firm, pronounced and with just a little bit of chest hair to make him even more masculine (as opposed to all those false Muscle Mary bods that Sydney has all too many nowadays). And he had these two big brown, juicy, nipples as big as twenty-cent pieces. I cant help but comment on them and I lightly touch them thinking its now or never.
Well that was all it took, he grabbed me immediately and forced his face right over me and stuck his hot tongue down my throat whilst fumbling with my fly to let go of my already stiff dick. I was shocked (as Ms Kylie Minogue would have chirped) by the power of it all! We were in a 69 position in no time flat on the lounge room rug -- me happily munching on his big hard uncut Canadian cock and he, wait for it, expertly, rimming my tight little ring! So much for being a "straight" boy I thought!
Anyway after a good twenty minutes of intense and furious sucking and licking we both blow our loads all ever each other (Arpoo- my parrot taking a keen interest in these two humans on the floor expertly and thoroughly "preening" themselves). I make Michel lunch (a big Aussie T Bone steak) hoping that he might give me more of his meaty lunch (and protein drink) later. He does and we both come again after about another hour of sucking an licking and wanking. But the boy doesn't kiss -- he's straight after all! Before we know it, it's 6pm and I have to bid our big Canadian friend farewell. He says he will come back and visit when he's back in Sydney in 3 months time and would like to get fucked by both my boyfriend and me!
I reward my clever bird, Arpoo with a big steak bone to chew on the rest of the day!
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