Santa Barbara Solstice Ch 01

Santa Barbara Solstice Ch 01

A college wrestler sets out to find his first

This is fiction. All the protagonists are over 18. © Copyright, 2026, Brunosden. All rights reserved.

For decades, State Street, the main commercial street in Santa Barbara, mostly pedestrian for much of the year, has been the venue for parades, typically organized just outside the built up area toward the foothills and ending at the Pacific where restaurants and bars collect the post-parade partiers.

One of the most famous, from the sixties, celebrates the Spring Solstice. At first it was just a ragtag collection of hippies and vagrants from the beach-front park, children riding decorated bikes, young couples with decorated carriages (their newest babe decked out inside), flower children throwing beads and glitter at the curbside audience, and a few pick-up marching bands of youngsters. It was casual; folks just enjoying the camaraderie and drug-infused atmosphere. Less organized than New Orleans Mardi Gras. Celebrating the beginning of summer.

Slowly over time, the parade morphed. At first, commercial enterprises added their "floats" and better organized bands performed as the Merchants' Association realized the potential to draw crowds downtown. Then, the hippies disappeared, leaving behind a legacy of drug use, free love, and colorful costumes.

Gays moved in to fill the void. In recent years the Gay Pride Movement has taken over and declared the solstice to be a Gay Pride coming out festival, celebrating the end of a drab winter of discontent and the beginning of new lives and loves. Predictably, as the costumes and dances became more "adult", the city managers had split the parade into two. The daytime parade was for families and PG. But, the larger, more colorful (and X-rated) event was moved to nighttime (after the sun had set) and declared to be only for adults.

******

This is Giorgio's first trip to the parade. He's a soph at Cal Tech, almost 20, and the first in his family to attend university. It's a lark of a trip for him, a welcome spring break in his tough civil engineering program, but with the interesting possibility of taking a big step in his personal life.

Giorgio is a handsome boy with typical Mediterranean coloring. He's a little short for a California surfer dude--only about 5-6, and somewhat darker (not from recent time tanning in the sun). However, his ruddy skin, thick lips, black curly hair and compact wrestler's body still turn heads--just those with different taste buds (or taste in buds). He's often compared to a cute Teddy-Bear, but he is without body hair, except the mop of curls on his head. He's religiously shaved everything else for wrestling for years, except of course for his religiously preserved trapezoid of curly pubes.

Giorgio harbors a secret. His team and class mates have him pegged as a chick magnet, getting everything he wants when he wants. When he poses in his singlet, at the end of a match, victorious, arms held above his head by a ref, cock and balls bulging in his crotch, no one can miss the attraction. Coeds just want to cuddle up with him in their laps, running their hands through his luxurious curls and hugging. Maybe getting a feel of his manhood's potential by the end of the evening.

It's not how he feels however. At first he thought he was a late bloomer, rarely dating in high school. Then, he realized he just wasn't interested--in girls, that is, even though they professed to be very much into his "cuddly" body. He dated, usually in gangs, with team mates, and followed their lead, necking, petting and cuddling. You'll note the operative words here are always "cute" and "cuddly." He's a hugger, loves body contact, and loves it when someone squeezes him. He loves big breasts, on girls as well as boys. And his suck instinct is well-developed. He just didn't get excited about trying to get into a girl's pants. What did she have there that interested him?

Days of weight-lifting, testing his strength on the mat with sweaty hard bodies, and wandering around naked in the locker room had convinced him that he was bi-curious, and maybe even gay. Every situation found him "comparison shopping" for guys who were hung and with big tits ripe for sucking. He could just imagine stroking his thick cock between those tits. Often he had to strain to avoid an erection. Particularly when he had pinned a hunk under him on the mat, his bulge stretching out toward the guy's face as his knees held the guy's shoulders to the floor.

He hadn't acted on his feelings, fearful of rejection by classmates and the wrestling team. Even wrestling erections were chalked up to excess testosterone generated by the match. Peer pressure was rigidly hetero at his conservative St. Gennaro's Catholic Parish, where Italian (Sicilian) and Latino heritage are often confused. And, more importantly he realizes that his large Italian family prides itself on producing its first academic star, a wrestling hunk in a small package, with a "bella figura," and a future husband and father. His father often remarked that one of his legacies to Giorgio was his enormous package. "You'll make a lot of babies someday and keep a woman happy and pregnant. You're a real Sicilian, boy. We can't wait for the grandkids. You're such a good boy."

He had met all of his Mama's friends' daughters.

But, Giorgio has decided. The Parade is to be his coming out moment. It is far from campus and his family. He has the time given the spring break, five days including today. Anonymous, presumably. And with plenty of choices crowding into the small city for the festival. It was said that thousands of horny gays descended on the city for the festivities and the parade. Linkups were like picking clover from a lawn. He had hitched, leaving in late in the morning, for the short trip, knowing that the first and main event wouldn't start until after dark, but wanting to "case" the venue well before the crowds make it impossible. The trip was easy, given his looks. He presented as a handsome, clean cut, young, small guy--not a threat to any driver. Carrying only a small duffel. He had needed to fight off a proposition from middle-aged salesmen-type, after the guy had bought him lunch en route. The attempt startled him. How did the guy decide that he, with the consummate wrestler's build and demeanor, give off the invitation? He doesn't think he projects gay. He doesn't understand why the guy had made the proposal. The dirty old man, out of shape, and skinny just didn't turn him on. So he pretended to hit the john and sneaked out of the restaurant of the roadside motel.

He doesn't think he pings the gaydar. He's sure he doesn't vibe as gay--or even straight with a deep-seated wish to try out a different kind of sex. The next ride came as easily: it was a grandmother-type who talked his ears off about he looked like her twelve year old grandson.

So, here he is, at dusk, near the curb. On it, not in front; he doesn't want to lose another six inches of height by standing in the gutter. Ready to meet his destiny. And to lose his cherry. Front row. Near the end of the route--where he had been told he'd be "on offer." In a crowd of thousands. He stands out, a little, because he is so PLAIN and relatively SMALL. A little too muscled to be a twink; a little too small to be even legal. White tee, tight jeans worn on his hips, Nike's (not the most expensive or most flamboyant) and a Giants baseball cap to shield his eyes from the last of the setting sun rays. He hadn't deliberately played down his looks; it is the way he always dresses. The tee is at least a size too small, old and thin, and stretched over his pecs, displaying two hard nibs. It has shrunk. So it's short and rides up, exposing the cut gut when he raises his arms to applaud. And the jeans are threadbare, soft, with frayed holes just above the knees. When he stretches, it's obvious that he's wearing only a jock underneath. Given the size of his thighs and his well-formed and muscled butt, they are tight, and whisker over a package basket. The hat barely conceals the fullness of his head of beautiful black curls which spill over his forehead and ears. And, of course, nothing can diminish the sparkling thick-lipped smile, shining teeth, and long black eyelashes framing the deep indigo eyes. He is a fucking model. And prey--in this atmosphere of experienced wolves.

In a sea of glitter, tats, bejeweled earlobes, and spangled outfits, he stands out. Plainly and simply magnificent. Already during the short walk from the wharf where his last ride had left him, he had been whistled at from cruising cars and propositioned numerous times. He'd have his pick. All he had to do was give the sign. He'd have a partner and a bed for the night, or the weekend, before returning to the academic world of Pasadena. His confidence has soared--along with his resolve. It's going to be his moment with destiny.

*******

Seth Rogan could not be more different in appearance. He's tall, probably over 6-6, pale and lanky with a tan that has long-faded since last summer. His face is long; his hair is dirty blonde, straight and long. The cheeks are hollow; his lips are thin; and he's got bright sea blue eyes. An aristocrat, maybe a New England transplant. Definitely into surfing. Seth is muscled, but not overly so; his pecs are large, maybe hard, but definitely rounded pillows of meat. His guns alone stand out, stretching the sleeve fabric of his rainbow tee. Incredibly small waist, flat ass, and narrow hips. Probably into basketball. Or, if not, he should be. Definitely a surfer.

Seth had arrived earlier for the parade, parked and began to hunt. He had a few days for adventure, and he was looking forward to finding someone new--and without commitment. If he is lucky, he might even find a virgin--or at least one a little younger, needing to be taught the ropes of gay sex. Seth had just emerged from a year long affair. It had ended badly when Seth found the guy in bed with one of his team mates. There had been a scene, but no violence. And Seth had retreated into himself, convinced that there were others more worthy of his talents.

So he too has decided to use the occasion of the parade to begin his hunt--along with thousands of others. He spotted a few, moved toward one, who was quickly joined by another guy who kissed his target. Taken, obviously. He wandered for awhile without success, crossing off one guy after another. No leather. No beards. Seth moved toward the best viewing spots for the parade, near the end, toward the front of the viewers, conscious always of the looks of the sidewalk viewers--more than one gave him the eye--and ever-vigilant for prey.

He spots the dark guy on the curb. He isn't Seth's type. Seth tends to fall for blonde twinks. Maybe the boy is innocent or even a first timer. But, definitely not a twink, although he is cute--particularly the mop of black curly hair that frames the face which manages to be both rugged and cute. His thick soft lips are a nice plus. He thinks immediately of weaving his fingers though those curls as the thick lips suck on his dick. He feels the beginning of a chub--the sure sign that at least one of his brains had decided on a target. Maybe he needs a break, and the dark boy might fill the void.

The hunt is on. He stands back, watches, noticing the boy's smiles and body language. He realizes that the boy is either a wrestler or into body-building. His muscles bulge, almost cartoonishly large. He doesn't seem to be with or attached to anyone. So, Seth decides and starts slowly moving through the crowd, four or five deep by then, until he stands right behind the guy. He towers over him. Seth realizes he is short, but thickly muscled, with coiled power just restrained in the small package. Definitely not a twink. His shoulders are wide. He smells wonderful, with a day's accumulated musk and mansweat. He's enthusiastic. Looks really young. And the butt! It is one of the nicest bubbles he's ever seen, held high above thick thighs. His little brain comes to full attention and sends the signals instantly. Seth is hard. And SJ was pointing to his prey. He knows exactly where he wants to bury his head later.

Seth positions himself as closely to the boy as possible--enough to inhale his essence. And then an accidental(?) jolt from behind pushes him right up against Giorgio. He murmurs an apology. But, it is not genuine. He's pleased that the crowd has forced the issue. The hunt is on.

******

Giorgio is surprised at the touch from behind, really a shove. He turns to complain. He stares into the rainbow tee of the tall guy behind him. He's staring into a hard chest, his eyes at nipple level. He has to look up. Automatically, Giorgio masks his anger with a smile--that broad, thick-lipped smile that frames his brilliant white teeth. His dark eyes dance with life--and maybe anger. They stare at each other for what seems like minutes. Neither says anything. No apology is offered. But, Giorgio is already intrigued. The contrast in height and his light coloring ignite something inside. He's wearing a telltale rainbow tee--and his hard nipples, on pillowy pecs, with deep cleavage, are outwardly bulging it and "denting" it. The chinos do not conceal a nice sized piece of equipment. Fuck, he's gay. Or at least sympathetic. And handsome. With decent tits.

Seth has a similar reaction. He's hooked again, and by all accounts he's found an innocent would-be, sensuous hunk. He breathes in Giorgio's scent. His nose flares. He's decided.

Giorgio turns back to the street, knowing now that Seth is right behind him, and probably interested. He's going to play it cool, although he's already hot, deep inside. The guy is exactly what he's been looking for--a surfer dude. Seth decides to stay. He's found his first morsel. The tension stretching between the two is palpable, almost forming a bond already. Other than the apologies, no words have been spoken. But, signals have been sent.... and received.

******

The pre-parade is beginning. So has the seduction.

A few would-be marchers ham it up in the middle of the street before the official start. The crowds are thickening, particularly where Giorgio and Seth are standing. Giorgio starts a diversionary conversation with a guy standing next to him who has driven up from LA. But, the conversation is going nowhere. He's got a boyfriend about to join him. He turns to the other side with almost the same result. Always Giorgio is aware of the presence behind him, much closer than he would normally expect. But, the crowd is big, and personal space is compressing. Giorgio turns and finds himself staring once again into the pecs of a very tall blonde. This time he takes him in--completely. He's easily able to watch the action over Giorgio's head. But, he is very close. So, the first encounter is not an accident. The guy is interested and maybe committed. Giorgio decides to play. He rearranges his stuff inside the jeans and stretches his legs akimbo and solidifies his stance.

Giorgio turns back to the street as the parade begins with a pick-up marching band of guys dressed in thongs and feathered head-dresses. Sandals with leather straps climb up bulging calves. Bare-chested, save matching leather straps, and proud. Bumping and grinding as they play, mostly off-key or bang on toy drums. A cheer goes up. Bondage is on the menu. The festivities have officially begun with the honor guard band of Native American--gay dom musicians.

The troupe is quickly followed by several flat-bed trucks, each occupied by gaudily-under clad dancers or over-dressed singing queens, hurling cheap plastic "pop-bead" rainbow necklaces to the crowd. One of the queens eyes him and throws a necklace directly toward him. Giorgio reaches up to grab for it, but the tall dude behind him outreaches him and snags it. Giorgio turns, expressing disappointment, and maybe a touch of anger. But, he is met with a smile. And then the tall surfer pops open the necklace and wraps it around Giorgio's neck, snapping it back together. It's tight, barely encircling the ropey muscled neck. Giorgio smiles back in gratitude. The guy returns the smile, and his eyes light up. He says nothing, but he doesn't remove his hands. Now they are resting on Giorgio's shoulders.

Seth can't believe his luck. He's collared the boy already. Not in leather, but in a circle of ridiculous rainbow-colored pop beads. The implication is the same. But, it doesn't matter. Who would have guessed? He's got a sub. Muscled, dark, cute and small with the nicest butt he's seen in weeks. And the sexual promise heightens--for both of them.

The next participants arrive--the Gay Sheriff's Alliance--guys on horseback, maybe twenty of them. There are no saddles on the magnificent horses, unlike the elaborately tooled, silvered, and bejeweled masterpieces of the earlier parade participants. The guys are bare-backing. And fuck, they are wearing matching leather chaps--with nothing but a thong under. Bare-assed, bare-backed, and bare-chested! Several are doubled-up, held closely together. A bawdy cheer goes up as the men prance their stallions and tip their hats at the crowd. Suggestive remarks rise above the crowd. And couples embrace, kiss and, unashamedly, feel each other up.

Surfer dude removes his hands from Giorgio's shoulders to clap with the crowd, but soon returns them, this time under Giorgio's arms. They circle around and draw him close. Seconds later the hands lift, under the tee. Seth loves the smooth hardness he finds. He has claimed ownership, perhaps for the duration. His long, graceful fingers loosely wrap around Giorgio's upper chest. Giorgio shivers with the touch. He's fuckin' found someone. Seconds later, Giorgio feels the fingers playing with his nipples which are hardening and sending signals to his dick. Seth pulls Giorgio back into him. He's hard, and his dick is planted between Giorgio's bubble cheeks. Giorgio shivers in pleasure. The dude leans in and whispers, "I'm Seth. And you are?"

Giorgio is silent for only a second. Then, he turns and whispers back, "Giorgio," before he returns to the parade and backs harder into Seth, feeling the planted hard dick in his lower back.

Nothing more is exchanged between them. The parade continues. It's very long this year: probably fifty separate entrants, dancers, musicians, make-shift floats, interspersed with various rag-tag groups of men in various stages of undress (or overdress) cavorting around in the street. Seth is now holding tightly. His hands continue to probe Giorgio's hard chest, often accompanied by whispered, "Nice." The fingers trace the cuts, cup Giorgio's hardened pecs, and drop down under the waistband of Giorgio's low, unbelted jeans, running fingers through his pubes. When he does, Seth smiles inwardly: the dickroot is shaved as are the balls, but the pubes are soft and curly just like the hair on his head. Giorgio meanwhile relaxes back into the tall surfer, measuring the likely length and size of his shaft. It seems to be a decent size. So Giorgio provides unspoken consent.

Before the parade is over, Giorgio has decided. If Seth is hooking, he's caught. Only two words have been spoken--their first names. The men all around them are oblivious to the seduction. Not because it is subtle--it isn't: Seth's hands are all over Giorgio, and Seth's body has taken over control. Both guys are obscenely rigid, tenting jeans and chinos. Giorgio is melting into him. Oblivious to all around them--who are also busy with their own business. It is a fucking pre-orgy in the street!

The parade finally ends. By then, Giorgio is so hot and hard that he's ready for anything. He's about to get his wish. He's pretty sure Seth is a top. But, that's okay. It's what he wants for his first time. The crowd begins to disburse. This time, it seems that there are more couples than singles, and most of them are same sex. Seth takes Giorgio's hand, protectively, and says, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I don't know Santa Barbara. Is there a place nearby?"

"I do. And yes." Then Seth drops the hand, and places it on Giorgio's butt, hooking a thumb into a belt-loop. His fingers spread, and he even dips one or two into the back pocket. It's the sign: Keep off. He's mine.

"You are really cute, boy."

"By the way are you old enough to drink?"

"Not quite, but I've got a pretty convincing ID."

"So how old are you?" Seth whispers conspiratorially, hoping for the correct answer. He's not into illegal chickens.

" Almost twenty."

"College?"

"Yeah, Cal Tech. Soph."

"No shit! I'm there too. Junior."

Giorgio stops suddenly in mid-walk. And almost causes Seth to fall over as his thumb catches in the belt loop. Seth, again instinctively, understands. The boy is looking for an anonymous sex, maybe his first. Seth is a fucking classmate! But, Seth recovers quickly. He's pretty sure he understands. He's been there before. And he's already decided that Giorgio is going to be his project for the next few days--a cute little bundle of Sicilian hot flesh that just needs a bit of help--and maybe needs to be filled up for the first time.

"What happens in St B stays in St B."

They begin to walk again, but this time, Seth has draped his arm over Giorgio's shoulder, pulling them tightly together.

"So where are you staying?"

"I left my stuff in a locker at marina. I haven't decided yet."

Seth knows immediately. Giorgio was hoping to score--and the overnight bed was to be a side-benefit of success. Instinctively, Seth knew that Giorgio was looking to hook with a guy. Why else spend time at the gay parade? He couldn't believe his luck.

So, he changes his seduction line of thinking, "Not sure how easy it's going to be to use an ID here tonight. The cops are thick, and the bouncers are going to be really careful."

They walk past two bars, both of which are teaming with guys. Long lines. Even the outdoor tables are overfull. It doesn't look promising. The bouncers have no reason to look the other way.

So Seth takes the chance. "I've got a place just out of town. I've got a bar." ("And a bed," he thinks.) "My car is in the lot near the marina--only a block from here. We can pick up your duffel if you need it."

Giorgia can't believe his luck. Seth is exactly what he is hoping for: tall, reasonably built, blond "real American boy" type. And fuck he's got a car and a place to stay. He's a classmate, but Tech is a big place--and the fact that he's a classmate means that he's probably a safe partner. "We can skip the duffel until tomorrow if you've got an extra toothbrush." He pauses, then adds, And an extra douche."

"Oh fuck," Seth thought. He's going to be so easy. He's planning on spending the night. And he's so fuckin' hot. Obvioulsy a bottom. Toothbrush? You've got to be kidding me. His lips are going to be sucking on my dick. And his tongue is going to be eating my ass. He can fuckin' use my toothbrush! And my extra douche. Thank you, God!"

It took only a few minutes to retrieve the car (which was not a sporty, sexy, expensive convertible--but an old Camry). And a few minutes later, they had left Santa Barbara and were on the road, headed inland toward the foothills. Fifteen minutes later, they drove through the entrance gate to "Rogan Family Vineyards and Winery."

"Do you work here?"

"Yes, sometimes. The place belongs to my uncle. We are from Ohio, but they let me crash here on holidays too short to go home. They're currently in Europe at a wine expo, and so I'm technically house sitting. Normally, I get a bed in the bunkhouse with the help. I'm from the poor side of the family."

Giorgio can't believe the coincidence. His extended family has been growing grapes in Sicily for centuries.

Seth drives up to the Spanish style ranch house, parks in front of the porch which spans the back of the place, and gets out. He heads for the kitchen door, and Giorgio follows. It's dark. There are few lights in the country, and none on in the house. It seems deserted, but the door is not locked. Seth enters and flips on a night light.

Seth remarks, "This is the last weekend that the hands have off. The serious vineyard work begins in a few days. No one is here right now--except the cook. Maria's in her room watching TV. Maybe asleep already. She's pretty deaf, but she cooks very well, and she's been with us forever.

They walk through the kitchen and a much larger high-ceilinged all-purpose space with huge rough beams, filled with comfortable furniture. Seth approaches a bar, grabs glasses, fills an ice bucket and buries the glasses inside to chill, and snags a bottle from the fridge. Giorgio can't make out the label, but guesses it's Tequila. Seth leads the way into a corridor. "All the guest rooms are on this side of the house." They enter a gaming area, and several doors open to rooms from it. He opens a door and enters a large room. "We can sleep here tonight." (Not "you"--"we.")

Giorgio understands. He is not a guest. He's Seth's date. It doesn't bother him at all. In fact, it's exactly what he is hoping for.

Seth pours generously, and he and Giorgio down shooters, toasting to Gay Pride. They drink, drain, and then drain another. Giorgio now has the liquid courage he doesn't really need. Then, Seth moves in and takes Giorgio's lips. It's not a gentle smooch, but a full-court athletic press, tongue on tongue, lips sucking, as Seth's hands squeeze, massage and maul the boy's thick bubble. Seconds later, Giorgio is straddling Seth's lap. He's been pulled there by Seth. Their chests are together, and Seth's hands are inside Giogio's jeans. Seth is not stalling. He knows what he wants and intends to take it.

There is no question now for Giorgio. He's going to bottom--and lose his cherry. They break apart after catching breath and taking another chance to suck. This time, Giorgio pushes up Seth's tight tee and take's Seth's nipple between his lips and sucks hard. Seth groans and pulls him up so their lips can be together again. Finally, Seth releases, and Giorgio nearly collapses. Seth doesn't look it, but he's strong, experienced and dominant, as well as tall.

"Can I take a shower first?"

Seth leads the boy into the open Mexican-tiled enclosure with multiple shower heads and a rain shower. He adjusts the controls, backs off and strips. He looks up. "I'm gonna join you if you don't mind." Giorgio is already naked and rigid. It's pretty much what he expected.

"Oh my God," Seth thinks. "Anxious much? Settle down Seth. Take it slow. You've found a treasure." This guy is a a fuckin' cherub--a dark angel, but an angel. The curly head is like one of those Renaissance statues. And the pubes, although trimmed to a perfect trapezoid, are so thick and long that they almost conceal his cock. Giorgio is compact, hard, muscled. His six-pack is shadowed. His nipples are erect, centered on huge dark aureoles, painted on thick hard pecs. The skin is tawny, sweaty and hot. The dick is uncut, although the hood is already drawn back into a thick collar. It's a decent size, maybe seven, thick as a goddamn beer can, growing out of the curly bush. The balls are huge--but clean shaved. Obviously Giorgio shaves everywhere that matters.

He cannot believe his luck: he's snagged a damn hot boy-virgin. He's sure.

Giorgio turns to head for the shower. And Seth almost orgasms on the spot. That butt! Not an Italian sculptor's boy-butt. But, a big, gym-created set of round globes that would make any gay man surrender. Deep hip dimples create those perfect hand-holds of his glutes. The Siren-call to a big gay cock, "Come here, boy; enter and enjoy! At your peril." And they are without hair! Shaved or natural, it doesn't matter. Seth adores big, smooth asses on his boys. And Giorgio takes the prize.

Giorgio spins and takes in Seth who is also naked now. He's slim, but not skinny. The cuts are deep and the vee belt is pronounced. Blonde fuzz covers his legs, but his chest is clean. The pecs are pillowy, the aureoles offset, large and dark. And the nipples are outsized and erect. Perfect for sucking! And there is a deep cleft between the pec mounds. His dick is upright, long--really long, like a baton--and lean, cut, almost uniform from stem to stern. And leaking precum.

Fuck! Seth is so fuckin' hot! But so is Giorgio.

Seth steps into the shower, and Giorgio grasps him into a tight hold. He immobilizes Seth as his lips move to Seth's nipples. Giorgio's lips latch on, and he begins to suck. Seth almost faints with the stimulation. How does this boy know about his weakness already? He loves it when his partner sucks, hard and long, on his nibs. His cock lifts hard into Giorgio's gut, and his first precum emerges. Seth can't believe how hot this boy is--a feeling that Giorgio shares.

Finally and reluctantly, they break apart and begin to soap each other, paying very close attention to all the most important parts of their anatomy. Ultimately, each gets to clean out the other's nether orifice--both expecting to make use of it soon in bed. Seth points to the douche wand and steps out. Giorgio follows a minute or so later. They dry. Seth picks up the body lotion and begins to work on Giorgio who gets the idea and duplicates every stroke. It's the first time that either dares to touch the other's cock. Orgasm is that close!

By then, the room is steamy. And the boys are almost incendiary. Something is going to happen. And soon.

Seth, the more experienced of the two, releases first and points Giorgio to the bed. Giorgio moves to the bed, and assuming he will bottom first, pulls a few pillows and stretches out on his belly, using them to position. Seth freezes at the incredible sight before him. This beautiful god-let is asking to be fucked! And that ass is the nicest that I've ever seen. Seth thinks, "With that butt, the pillows are not needed. But, I'm gonna blow too soon. I'm just too hot."

He approaches the bed and can't help himself. He uses both hands to caress the tawny globes. They are bigger than his large basketball hands, unblemished, smooth, soft on the surface, but rock hard just below. His fingers press into the dimples. He bends over and kisses each cheek in turn. Then, he pulls them apart and touches his tongue to the quivering rosebud. Giorgio involuntarily lofts into Seth's tongue and mutters a guttural, "Oh, fuck! Yesssss."

Seth is leaking badly by now. He's never been harder. Or closer. Reluctantly, he pushes Giorgio over so he's on his back. Then, he bends down and kisses the thick lips. He forces the lips open and his tongue invades. Giorgio is confused at first, but then he understands. Seth is a kisser as well as a lover. His hands move to Seth's silky hair as his fingers spread and hold their heads together. Then, Giorgio's tongue goes to work, thrusting up into Seth, taking control of his mouth. He sweeps and sucks hard as their tongues battle, a foretaste of the kind of lover Giorgio will be. Then, Giorgio pulls Seth down on top of him. Their cocks clash. And soon, Giorgio overpowers Seth and flips, bringing his strong compact body on top. His head drops down and Giorgio sucks hard again on Seth's nipples, drawing them up and hard as Seth responds, thinking that he has taken on more than he anticipated. This boy is strong. And determined. And so fuckin' hot. He can devour me with his strength and need.

Giorgio flips again and lands under, but this time his hands have spread over Seth's ass cheeks. His fingers probe. Then zero in. Seth tightens, but Giorgio overpowers and pulls the cheeks apart; this time, his index finger is poised to enter. Then, just as in a wrestling match where Giorgio has won a point, he releases and falls to the mattress on his back. He thinks, "I can take this guy easily. But, I want this to last. He needs to top. I want to feel him inside me. A guy's long hard dick--for the first time."

Giorgio is prepared. To let Seth do it. "PUT IT IN!"

They relax for a few minutes. Each tense, but willing to cool to prolong the pleasure. Suddenly, Seth moves quickly. He's decided how to handle this.

He sits astride Giorgio's thick chest and plants his cockhead on the thick lips. Hands weave into Giorgio's black curls and lift his head. The dark eyes are wide open, staring at the darkened shaft hovering less than an inch from him. Giorgio is a little confused. He's expecting Seth to take him. But he opens his lips, and Seth pushes in. "We're gonna need to do this first, boy. I'm just too fuckin' turned on by you. I'm guessing this is your first, am I right? You're gonna cum with me when I take your ass, aren't you? Patience. Let's do this first.."

Reluctantly Giorgio affirms his virginity, shaking his head since his mouth is full of dick. Then he hard sucks again, taking more than half of Seth's long shaft. It's on his tongue now and leaking that precious viscous precum. Giorgio is enjoying every second--ready to let Seth show him how, to take him on his terms. He's now had his first taste of man cum.

"I'm gonna make this very good for you. But, first, we need to take the top off."

Giorgio understands. He tightens his lips and begins to suck, using his tongue to swipe the underside as Seth feeds him and withdraws. Under there, Seth is very sensitive.. The blue curling veins and the straighter tubes swell and bulge. He thinks, "My first cock! I've got a surfer-dude's cock in my mouth." His cheeks hollow with the suction. He's intent, so much so that his ass rises from the bed reaching upward in an attempt to slide his shaft along Seth's cleft. It doesn't work. He can't quite reach. Fuck, he needs to get off. Even as he concentrates on taking Seth's spunk. Then, he loses it. All thought. All visualization just disappears. It's all about feel and smell and taste--the slimy surface of the dick on his lips and the intensity of the feeling inside. He's fucking going to explode with the sensations. It's the best moment of his life. Giorgio breathes deeply, inhaling the musk of the guy holding him to the bed. It's the finest perfume he's ever encountered.

Seth feels the coiled power beneath him. It turns him on that he is face-fucking this strong boy who is essentially letting him do it. That his dick has tamed the Sicilian beast beneath him. Maybe. Maybe Giorgio is just playing with him. Letting him do it. He can feel the power at the edge of breaking out. He cares no longer. He's a mass of feeling. His legs and thighs stiffen, and his cock expands, becoming rock hard, yet throbbing with heat. He rises up above Giorgio assuming the posture of conquest.

He feels Giorgio's pipe slide up between his ass cheeks. The beast is awakening. That's the trigger. Seth announces his imminent climax. He's not asking; he's going to fill up this boy's mouth. He rises from the crouch and stiffens his legs. His shaft deepens, slides over the soft tongue, touching Giorgio's throat, just as Seth begins to blast. Giorgio takes the first shot like a champ, but Seth pulls back and deposits the next super load on Giorgio's tongue, filling his mouth with the aromatic, salty spunk. Giorgio swallows. He automatically sucks hard for more, like a baby at its mother's tit. It overflows live hot lava from between his lips. Then his haunches rise again; his dick hardens; and, without even a touch, he begins to spray Seth's back with cannon volley after cannon volley of long pearly rows of cum.

Fuck! Just blowing Seth has caused him to bust his first nut of the night.

The build-up has been tremendous. The climax takes only seconds. Just the intense seconds and smells of man on man sexual release. Seth rolls off, the fragrant and copious cum dripping from his back. Giorgio feels the loss of connection. So he tightens his hold, bringing their momentarily spent bodies in intimate contact. Seth's hands immediately stray to Giorgio's butt. And Giorgio's begin to massage his cum into Seth's back. Spent dicks are now kissing, wallowing in spunk, sliding together, wrestling, nesting. And lips share Seth's cum.

But, at rest.

"Fuck that was something else," they mutter almost in unison. Each knows the coupling has been special. Seth, the experienced wolf, is already sensing that this time he's found someone really special who can already deep throat his long dick.

Giorgio is still at the edge. But it's the edge of a high mesa--his first blow has moved his feeling up--and he remains there. He hasn't lost his cherry--yet--but Seth is about to push him over the mesa's edge. He's about to lose his anal cherry. He knows he's almost ready for more. And he's now convinced that he wants Seth to do the honors.

He thinks, "How lucky that he picked me out of the crowd today." He smiles inside and tightens his hold on the tall blonde.

Each knows that there is more to come. And cum. And soon.

TBC

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*****

Author: This is the first of a multi- chapter short story. I guess you realize my trademarks by now: romance, young attractive guys, the "marriage" of contrasting physiques and skin-tone; and the possibility that guys from different backgrounds can find common purpose and make it together. I try to visualize interesting scenes and scenarios for what is (or should be) essentially an everyday event. And then, I try to get into the heads of the characters. (Unfortunately, more often than not, they get into mine--and they make me edit and expand after a night's sleep. The next chapter is always at the edge of consciousness, until it springs on me.) The second and third chapters ares written and will appear in a few days after editing. The fourth is just beginning to take shape.

Thanks for continuing to read my stuff. I really enjoy writing it. I appreciate your comments and your ratings.

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