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 This is a story of pure fiction, involving a graphic description of sex
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   All names are purely fictional and any similarity to any person living
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   London days 1 - Pieetr
   By Romany
   (M/M, oral, anal)
   I finished an MBA at UCLA and decided to head off to the UK for a year's
sabbatical.  My father gave me a job in his engineering company back home
in Missouri long enough for me to get some money behind me, and in January
1978 I arrived in London.  I set myself up at a bed and breakfast place for
the first few days and eventually I found a flat (apartment) in an old
building in West Hampstead, NW London.  It was full of expats from
different countries and it was like a mini United Nations.  The
accommodation was one step above basic, comprising of a single large room,
with a bed, table and chairs, and a kitchenette comprising a single sink
with a tiny bench surrounds, a small refrigerator and a double hot plate
for cooking.  Heating was provided by a single gas radiator which you had
to feed with fifty pence pieces.  The bathroom and toilet facilities were
shared with the other occupants, with there being one on each of the 5
floors in the old building.  I bought some blankets to augment my sleeping
bag I carried with me, plus sheets, pillow cases and a couple of towels. 
There was basic cutlery in the place but I went to a second hand shop and
came back with a variety of knives, forks, spoons and various kitchen
utensils to make some rudimentary meals on the hotplate.  Within the first
week I also picked up a job as a laborer for a small removal company.  The
deal was good in that I simply provided the necessary grunt to move small
household's contents and the occasional department store deliveries, as a
second man to the driver.  I was paid under the table and the tax free
money was more than I needed to pay my way.  I ate out mostly; only
preparing snacks or breakfast in my flat.
   Over the first couple of weeks I became aware of my other tenants and I
was particularly taken with two Israeli sisters, Yolanda and Paz.  They
invited me in for the occasional sandwich lunch or drink at dinner times. I
was smitten with Paz, the older of the two but she was dating a tall New
Zealand guy called Ray so she was very much taken.  It turned out that
`Ray' was the Ray who worked with me.  This made it doubly difficult to
hold any aspirations I might make some progress with her.  For her part,
Yolanda was friendly enough, although she was somewhat overweight and not a
little bit opinionated and feisty which made her unattractive to me.  But
they had this lovely way of greeting with a full open mouth kiss on the
lips.  It took me several greetings to realise there was nothing sexual in
this.  It was their way.  One evening Paz asked if I wanted to go to the
local pub.  I knew Ray was working quite late doing a move to Luton Town. I
was delighted at her invitation but disappointed when we descended to the
second floor and met with this young Dutchman called Pieetr, who she had
also invited.  Pieetr was about eighteen or nineteen and he was studying
commerce and English at a local business college; although he spoke English
very well.
   On arrival at The Old Black Lion, we were joined by an Italian friend of
Paz's, called Mia.  She was very cute and I wondered if she had a
boyfriend. I never found out that night, but learned later that she was
seeing a friend of Ray's.  Later Paz's older sister Meira and her English
husband Jason joined, shortly followed by Paz's boyfriend Ray.  So my high
hopes of a singles night with Paz evaporated rather quickly.  Yolanda
worked at this pub so she was behind the bar.  Anyway we had a very
convivial time and as the evening went on, the group thinned until just
before closing time, Pieetr and I were the only two left.  We had drunk
very little compared to the others but just enough to feel happy with the
world.  At closing time, I suggested we get a meal of fish and chips.  He
agreed and clutching our hot parcels wrapped in newsprint, we wandered
home. As we walked in the main door, Pieetr asked if I would like a
nightcap.  Feeling quite sprightly despite the few beers I already had, I
agreed and he produced four cans of Heineken.
   We finished our fish and chips and sipped our Heineken and then he
jumped up and rummaged in a small pouch he produced from inside his
overcoat pocket.  He appeared grinning with a small foil package of what
turned out to be hashish resin.  I had smoked a fair bit of grass at
college but never tried hash.  I watched in fascination as he formed a
`skin' using three Rizzla's and then sprinkled the tobacco from a Marlboro
cigarette he had split open.  He softened the edge of the hash block using
the flame from a match and crumbled the narcotic crumbs into the tobacco.
He expertly rolled it closed and made a round holder from a small piece of
cardboard he had, making it like a cheroot tip.  He lit up and we passed
the joint back and forth.  I quickly felt the effects of the hash, as did
Pieetr.  As we smoked we fell silent, with only eye contact and nods for
communication.  I noted Pieetr's quite rapid descent into a stoner haze.
   I needed a piss so I rose and excused myself.  I took a piss in the
battered toilet along the hall from Pieetr's flat and wandered back feeling
the lovely buzz the hash was giving me.  I had propped the door ajar, and
let myself in and wandered along the entrance partition all the flats had
as a way of trying to make the living room seem separate to the entrance
way.  As I turned the corner and headed back into the room, I stopped dead
in my racks as I saw Pieetr lying on his bed, stark naked, masturbating an
impressive hard on.  He had his eyes closed and was lying with one hand
clearly working a nipple and the other languidly stroking his cock.  I
moved a few steps into the room and he made a few motions towards his cock
with his head.  It dawned on me he was inviting me to either handle or suck
his dick.
   Now I had had a couple of man on man experiences.  Once when I was
eighteen, I got tangled up with Jason, the sixteen year old son of a friend
of my father's.  Jason was a closet queer waiting to come out even at that
age and he basically offered up his mouth to my cock.  He became a fag to
me and I pounded his face at least once a week.  There was a gap when I
started college but on my first trip back home I ended up fucking him on my
bed one day he just happened to stop by.  He knew our parents were together
as a golf foursome for the day.  He was quite candid that I was not the
first to feel the depths of his tight butt.  This relationship ended when
he went to college.  Buoyed by this experience, I had a brief liaison with
a guy following a stag night for a college senior I had become friends
with. The guy was probably what Jason would be at 22.  He was a consummate
bottom, as the queer slang goes, and despite him parting his willing
buttocks after he had sucked me nearly hard, I was full of tequila and beer
and I had some difficulty penetrating him.  The first effort was less than
satisfactory though we did both get there.  By daybreak after that long
lost night, I was better placed to stay hard and we parted about noon that
day, with me having spilled my cum into him four times since midnight.
   So here was this young blond Dutch boy lying back on his bed, stoned and
slightly drunk at once, beckoning me towards his erect cock.  In the
previous two queer experiences, I had seldom sucked cock nor had I ever
taken it in my ass.  I wasn't about to start now.  But the beer and hash
had likewise softened my Missouri based homophobia and I wasn't necessarily
averse to getting it on with Pieetr, providing it didn't involve me being
the bottom and him the top.  That went for blowing him as well.  Giving him
a hand job was about all I could agree to.  I approached the bed and stood
looking at him.  He was five ten and about 180 pounds with long fair hair.
He looked somewhat effeminate at the best of times being as there was
little or no facial hair apart from stringy curly sideburns he had
obviously spent some time growing.  His eyes were half shut; an almost
doe-eye look.  I stood at the bed side and with a deep breath; I reached
for his hard cock and started to give him a slow jack-off.
   After a few minutes of him lying back with his eyes closed while I
jacked him slowly, he suddenly spoke softly.
   "I want you to suck me," he said gazing at me through his half closed
eyes.
   "I don't eat cock Pieetr," I said quietly and stared at him seriously so
there was no doubt I was being firm.
   He made a face of exasperation and lay there obviously considering this
refusal.  I cleared my throat which felt dry from the intensity of the
situation.  I wasn't exactly aroused but my heart rate had risen and I was
somewhat apprehensive about what I might do in my stoned state.
   "I would like to fuck you though Pieetr.  Do you fuck or are you just in
it for sucking and oral sex?" I asked gently.
   His eyes opened more and his face broke into a smile at my words.
   "Ja, Ja, yes," that would be good.  "You fuck then?" and he almost
gushed the words realizing I was up for some action.  "I thought you might
like girls only.  I see the way you look at Paz, and I think Steve is a
ladies man, not a boy's man," he continued quickly.
   I grinned at his assessment of me.
   "Pieetr I don't discriminate when it comes to fucking.  I have been with
boys and men before," I said.
   The hash buzz was making me feel good and I have to confess the warmth
of his hard cock was feeling good also.
   "You go with boys?" he asked a little incredulously.
   I chuckled.
   "The `boy' was only a few years younger than me," I said reassuringly.
"I'm not a pervert preying on young kids."
   He nodded his understanding.  I could tell that the stroking that my
hand was doing was robbing him of his alertness to what I was saying and
his eyes were occasionally closing and then opening a little as if he was
struggling to stay conscious.  I let his cock go and he opened his eyes
suddenly and groaned at the loss he felt as I stopped stroking him.  But he
saw I was quickly discarding my clothes and he smiled his acceptance of the
need for me to stop jacking him while I undressed.  I was soon standing
naked beside the bed, just abreast of his midriff.  In the absence of
knowing what this young man expected, I stood silently pondering what move
to make.  He beat me to it and reached for my cock which was semi hard. 
`This is a good star' I thought as he started to jack me and I became hard
quickly.  He rolled half on his side and twisted down and eyed my cock as
he slowly rolled the foreskin back and forth over the mushroom head, making
the head and inner of the foreskin slick with the precum I had generated as
my arousal grew.  Without any ceremony I reached behind his head and pulled
it towards me and he graciously opened his mouth and slid me in, working me
quickly with his tongue.
   Pieetr sucked me fervently, occasionally taking his mouth off me and
sitting back, watched his hand firmly stroke me.  Occasionally he would
glance up and mutter "ist good Ja" in his Dutch accent.  The obvious
slurring of his speech due to the beer we had drunk and the hash we had
smoked that evening.  It was now just gone midnight and I was as horny as
hell.  I need to fuck properly.  He was engaged in giving me a deep throat
as he had concentrated hard on getting as much down as he could take.  He
was gurgling in his gullet, and hissing through his nose to breathe.  I
tapped his head slightly and he drew off slowly and looked up at me
coquettishly, like a vamp.
   "Time to fuck," I said quietly.
   He stroked me a couple more times and grinned and nodded.
   "Ja, gut," he agreed.
   Still holding me he rolled his upper body over the side of the bed and
fumbled under it and brought out a shoe box.  He had to let me go as he
prised the lid off.  My eyes opened in some surprise as the first this I
saw was a rather large flesh colored dildo.  I could see at least one other
smaller one but his hand obscured the entire contents of the box.  He
quickly produced a small bottle which I instantly recognized as some form
of sex lubrication.  I grinned at him, knowing what he had in has hand.  He
grinned back and dropped the box on the floor without bothering to replace
the lid.  He drew himself back upright and flipped the top and beckoned me
closer.  For several minutes he lubed me expertly with the liquid and I was
very aroused.  When he was sure I was greased sufficiently he gave me a
longing look and rolled over onto he stomach and drew his knees up under
him.  He handed me the bottle and I climbed onto the bed behind him.  I
took about five minutes, working copious amounts of the lube into his
asshole.  I had done this before with both Jason and my stag night lover;
both of whom were well versed in anal preparation and who had taught me
patience and delicacy with their sensitive sphincters and anal cavities. 
In time I was sure he was ready and muttered this to him.  He surprised me
by reaching back and I saw him fingering his asshole and he looked sideways
and nodded his approval at my handiwork.  There was nothing for it now, but
to press foreword.
   And I did.  He reached back between his legs as he kneeled with his head
on the pillow, and guided me to the general area of his pucker.  The light
was behind me so it was kind of dark to see.  But his gentle guidance and
instinct took over and I slipped one of my own fingers down the inside of
his butt crack and used this to help zero in.  I amazed myself that, with
not too much forward pressure, I slid into him quite easily and with a
couple of in-out movements, I bottomed out to my balls in his tight warm
hole.  He groaned his agreement with my entry and slowly raised his upper
body up so his back was now horizontal, resting on his palms splayed on the
bed.  I took his hips and kneeling behind him, began to fuck him slow and
deliberately.  Pieetr was one practiced bottom and he moved back slightly
as I pushed in and occasionally I would stop and look down in delight as he
rocked his body back and forth on my cock buried deep inside him.  This was
just before AIDS and HIV awareness became universally understood so I was
bare backing him without a condom and I studied my cock sliding in and out
of his asshole.  He seemed tight though I thought later he was probably
looser than Jason, given Jason was physically smaller.  Although all of the
males I had fucked in the ass had been well used before I got there so I
never really knew what a tight virgin asshole felt like.  This was
blissfully delicious and I started to pick up the pace.  This was met by
groans of approval and soon I was fucking consistently hard and deep, bring
about little grunts as I clearly nudged his prostrate.  I might have been
stoned but my senses were crystal clear and I was lost in the pleasure this
was giving me, to the point my orgasm crept up on me quickly, as it
sometimes does.  I grabbed his hips tight and humped hard as I felt the cum
boil and spurt into his warm depths.  I was vaguely aware he was jerking
and wriggling as I spurted my cum and realised as I started to come down
from my high, that he was jacking himself vigorously as I fucked my load
into his body.  He cried out and I knew he had cum just after my first
cries of pleasure.
   I soaked in him for a few minutes, running my hand over his naked back
and shoulders.  He lay there groaning his appreciation I hadn't just pulled
out straight away.  He let his upper body fall back to the bed and knelt
with his head on the pillow once more.  Eventually I slid out of him, still
quite hard.
   "Oh no, don't.  Leave him there," he almost giggled, but knew it was
inevitable I had to pull out.  I moved up beside him and lay leaning on one
arm and looked at him as he had now rolled onto his side.  He grinned.
   "That was great," he said breathlessly.  "But I think you think you fuck
Paz or any other lady," he said casually and smirked at me as if he had
discovered a secret.
   He was probably right.  Although I was well aware of whom I was fucking,
I fucked him as if he was a girl.  I've never sodomized a woman but I have
back scuttled or dog fucked almost all of my female sex partners at some
time.  So this was great but not a unique position; just a different hole.
I grinned and flipped my cock.
   "He just loves going in holes," I said with a chuckle.  He doesn't
always discriminate.
   Pieetr laughed at my comment.
   "That is good.  I think Pieetr can live with that knowledge," he
laughed.
   He sighed heavily and rolled onto his back.  I could see fatigue was
starting to catch up on his beer and hash filled body.  I wondered about my
cum leaking back onto his sheets.  The celebrated wet spot was just as
likely with anal intercourse as vaginal intercourse.  Oh well it was his
bed.  He had to lie in it.  I made a move to get off the bed and he placed
a hand on my arm quickly.
   "No, don't go Steve.  Please stay with me some more.  I want you again
later.  If you will.  Please stay," he said quietly, almost dreamily.
   I considered his plea and decided I could stay a little while.  It was
twelve thirty.  I decided I'd bug out before two.  I had work at eight
o'clock and needed to be away by seven so I was looking at a truncated
sleep as it was.  But this had been damn good sex and a fine way to end the
night's enjoyment.  I said nothing but rolled back and lay beside him.  I
let myself doze off soon after I heard his regular breathing, knowing he
was asleep.  I did not want a homosexual lover or love affair.  This was
just sex.  I could do it again soon.  I was happy to stay a short while.
   I fucked him about an hour later.  By his choosing he rolled onto his
back and held his legs wide apart and pulled back like a woman in
childbirth or undergoing a gynecological exam.  I crouched over him with my
hands braced beside his midriff and watched my cock sliding in and out.  I
was more aware of the visual aspect this time and matched what I saw with
the enjoyment I felt of his slick hungry hole absorbing my length.  He
grunted and groaned his enjoyment and I was fascinated to note his ball bag
was virtually hairless.  He confided in me some time later that he had
always shaved his asshole area and ball bag as a lot of his partners liked
to rim him and draw his balls into their mouths.  As it was not my thing it
was superfluous but I was sure Pieetr would find a true queer boy or man
and his preparations would be appreciated.  He trimmed his pubic bush,
without shaving it away at all.  He lay passive but enjoying the pleasure
he was receiving and soon his hand strayed to his hardening cock and
totally independent of my next orgasm, he jacked himself, spewing his cum
over one side of his chest and stomach.  I finished off loudly a second
time and emptied myself into his ass once again.  Groaning and gushing my
enjoyment as I wrung the last drop of cum from my balls.  He lay with his
eyes closed and his hand loosely on his cock as I towered over him,
surveying the sight.  I noted the blobs of his cum turn into a series of
trickling creamy slime and dripped off his ribcage onto the sheets.  He
would have several wet spots I thought.
   I pulled out and this time I twisted around and stepped onto the floor.
He made no effort to speak and I concluded he had dropped off into a doze
once again.  I dressed quickly and turned to look at him lying flat on his
back with his legs splayed open and his hand still lightly holding his now
soft cock.  He had his head slightly turned away from me.  I figured it was
time to go.  It was actually three o'clock in the morning.  I would have a
few hours sleep and then up to work.  As I switched the light out I heard
him call "goodbye Steve", almost inaudible as he was more asleep than
awake. I said nothing and slipped out of his flat and headed upstairs.
   I was to enjoy Pieetr's warm asshole on a number of occasions over the
next month.  He showed me his masturbatory techniques using the dildo I had
seen in the shoe box.  He arranged himself in various obscene poses on the
bed, and slid the thick rubber imitation cock in an out of his greased
asshole.  I found this quite hot and on several occasions, rushed him and
throwing the cock out of the way, punched into him quickly and hard.  This
was the most erotic sex I had had for some time.  Without the assistance of
beer and or hash, we talked candidly about sex.  He told me he had been
abused by his mother's much younger brother.  Not that he had minded as he
said he felt drawn to men from about puberty onwards.  He had had at least
five adult lovers in the five years to date, since puberty.  He also
confessed to abusing a young cousin that culminated in anal sex.  The boy
was eleven at the time and Pieetr conceded the young boy admitted to him
that he had had similar feelings about men that Pieetr had so he was easy
prey for him.  He became the boy's mentor and confident, as well as his
lover.  All the while he engaged in sex with older men; two of whom were
married with families.  I related my man to man sex history and he
reiterated is opinion that I had sex with men as if they were women.  This
is why I could not go down on him or rim him; or even let him reciprocate
and bugger me like I buggered him.  It was his feminine submissiveness I
wanted.  Not his maleness.  But he wasn't resentful of my prejudiced
against reciprocating.  He disagreed with me when I said I might be
bisexual with a bias towards hetero.
   "Bisexual men enjoy other men's penises," he said in support of his
assessment that I was not bi.  "You at least are an honest fucker who just
likes penetrative sex," he concluded.
   I let him have the last say.  I think he was right.
   I was careful to keep our liaisons secret.  I still coveted Paz and my
hopes soared when I learned that her boyfriend Ray was probably going to
return to New Zealand as his father's health was worrying him.  I did not
want my proximity to her to discover I might have a queer sex thing with
Pieetr; and therefore I might be queer as well.  When you saw the comings
and goings of lovers and casual pick-ups the boys and girls who lived here
went with, everyone's business was usually open for observation.  I wanted
to be seen as very much the hetero.  And the more I found myself tapping on
Pieetr's door late at night, or he on mine, the more the chances rose our
relationship would be exposed.  My worries reduced somewhat when I learned
from Ray that his room in the flat he was in would be coming free, and did
I want it?  The downside was moving out of the building Paz lived in; but
the upside was distancing myself from Pieetr's frequent calls.  Ray's place
was a lot more expensive but after going around to view it, I was bowled
over by how much nicer it was for the just-affordable rent.  There was an
English guy called James, living with a Danish girl called Lisbeth, in the
other room.  I hit it off immediately with them.  Ray hosted my visit and
we sealed the offer of the room by drinking a few beers and enjoying a fat
joint expertly put together by Lisbeth.  I noted Lisbeth had a roving eye
for me and I was a little uneasy she might be trouble if I moved in.  Hell,
I was on sabbatical.  Roll the dice and see what turns up.  I was game.  So
after two months in London, I moved to Willesden Green with James and
Lisbeth.  This certainly did reduce the number of comfort visits I got from
Pieetr.
   In the early days in Willesden, I snuck back to West Hampstead on a
couple of occasions when I felt the need for Pieetr's warm body.  He was
always pleased to see me and each time I left, he said he must visit my new
place.  In point of fact I never gave him the address but I guess he could
have gotten that from Paz.  I suspect he knew a visit was not entirely
welcomed, and patiently waited for the next time I would knock on his door.
And one night, after a skin full of beer at the Old Black Lion, on the spur
of the moment I detoured towards the old building where I used to live,
thinking how nice it would be to sink into his welcoming depths once more.
It was with some surprise and disappointment that, when he let me in, I
discovered he had a visitor.  It was a young Turkish guy called Mehmet, who
coincidentally had taken my old flat.  Pieetr was quite respectful towards
me despite my obvious selfish reasons for the late night call.  It didn't
take much to realise that Mehmet was there for the same reasons I was.  I
took this as a good thing as finally I could break off the contact I had
struggled to do kindly with Pieetr.  And despite them both exhorting me to
stay awhile, I withdrew.  I learned later from Paz that Pieetr had found a
boyfriend.  She told me she always suspected he was into men and how
pleased she was he found a partner.  I feigned surprise when she commented
she thought he was queer but agreed it was good for him as he was actually
a nice guy.  Little did she know!
   THE END
   (C) 2007 Romany.  Protected by copyright law.  Please do not copy, edit,
amend or post this on any website without the author's permission.
   
  
London days 1_Pieetr