I am happy to share my stories. But, French of origin, thank you for your understanding for my English which remains very imperfect!
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"What you're doing here is really a very nice gesture, Maxence!" Says to me the head of the association which organizes tutoring for youngins with learning difficulties in Saint-Denis (a very disadvantaged suburb, north of Paris).
"I was lucky enough to benefit from the best schools in the country, which allowed me to become an engineer. I see it as a civic duty to help these young people who need it." What I don't tell her, of course, is that I'm also completely crazy about all these young, dark-skinned immigrants I see when I take the metro that crosses this suburb to catch my plane at Roissy airport: I like their toned and well-formed bodies, guessing their young cocks that their tracksuits show off, seeing through their insolent attitudes express their somewhat boorish, arrogant and dominating side.
"Since maths is somewhat your speciality, I am going to entrust Djamel to you. He is 19 years old kid, still in high school, 3 years behind. Yes, 3 years late! I don't hide from you that it's a bit difficult case: the 2 young ladies who tried to tutor him gave up after only 1 or 2 sessions. They were only 20 or 21 years old: that's why I now want to entrust him to a young man with a bit of maturity. Your 26 years and your professional status will help..."
I receive the next day, as agreed, an email detailing the axes of the tutoring, the contact details of Djamel's family and confirming me that the first session will take place at their home this Friday at 6 p.m.
When I ring the doorbell of the apartment in this filthy building in Saint-Denis, an Arab-looking woman opens the door. She smiles at me and says as she let me in, "Welcome Maxence! I'm glad they send us a young MAN. Djamel needs this tutoring so badly... Even if he will always be my little angel, I have to admit that he is becoming difficult... Since his father left and even more since he came of age, I have a lot of trouble make him obey... So evening homework comes always after football, his pals and the girls!"
I don't have time to answer, she has already opened the kitchen window and shouts "Djamel, come upstairs right away! For your math class... Yes, right away!"
She closes the window and says to me, "Go to his room: he'll soon be here. I have to go to work: every evening, I do 4 hours of cleaning in office buildings... Good luck, Maxence!"
Djamel's bedroom looks a bit like my bedroom as a teenager: posters on the walls, clothes scattered on the floor, video game cassettes, a PS installed in front of a gigantic screen (I didn't have that!), a messy bed...
As the wait is long, I approach the bed to sniff the crumpled boxers he left on his bed. It stinks of guy's balls and sperm. When I open it, I see whitish traces that are still damp. There are many of them. I can't stop licking them! I notice above the pillow that the wall is covered with traces of old dried drippings; the wallpaper is discolored... With the boxers and the wall, I understand that Djamel has abundant sperm! Of course, my cock can't stay at rest in this testosterone impregnated universe...
The noisy arrival of Djamel in the apartment makes me throw his boxers back on his bed and sit down at the cluttered table that serves as his desk. Not a single book on it, but dirty clothes and cans of soda...
Seeing this shirtless sweaty tall guy (6'3'' at least), with an adult build and a muscular chest and a hell of a 6-pack, rush into the room, I'm a little taken aback but manage to say, "Hello Djamel. I'm Maxence, the guy who should help you a little in maths..."
He's all sweaty and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and says, "Yeah, that's what I heard... Math sucks! But we can always try... We'll see if you last longer than the chicks they've already sent me!"
While he welcomes me (!), I detail his body. As the heat wave still strikes in this month of September and these suburban apartments of course do not have air conditioning, his bod is all glistening with sweat, showing off his amber skin. The football his mother told me about explains the very muscular thighs sticking out of his shorts. Shorts so soaked that they stick to his cock, obviously a good size! Without being overly muscular, his body is very toned and well cut. He must weigh 175-180 lbs, without a gram of fat!
How can a 19-year-old boy already be so physically developed?
"Djamel, I suggest that today we just talk a bit to see where we start from and how we are going to work together..."
He listens to me with no real attention, wiping his body with a towel he found on the floor. Without answering, he turns vaguely before putting his fingers in the top of his shorts and dropping it to the ground. The guy is really neither shy nor modest!
He shows off me his bubble butt, covered with dark hairs, the density of which increases as it approaches his dark crack. While he is drying his brown hair, which is quite long and curly, I can even see his dick moving with the movements of his body. His shorts weren't lying: he has a big cigar, quite dark, with a nice pink round glans. Pointing forward, on 2 big hairy balls, his resting cock isn't very long (just over 4''?), but is quite thick... He puts everything in a tight boxer that compresses well his ass and prominently displays his cock which he now has pointing upwards.
"Shit, it's always the same thing! These boxers are all too small for my gear!" He says to me, laughing and turning around to see the rendering of his ass, and he continues, "Make yourself comfortable if you want... It's much too hot in here and we're among guys, right?!"
"It is true that it is hot. But I have to keep an outfit in line with my tutor status..."
