Afternoon Delight

Disclaimers

1. If you're not supposed to read this due to the laws where you live, hit back and move along. If you read further, that's on you.

2. lf m/m sex isn't your thing, hit back and move along.

3. There may or may not be incest themes in any of my stories, implied or explicitly. If this offends you, hit back and move along.

4. All characters in this story are 18+ years old.

5. Any similarities with real life are purely coincidental.

Hiya :)

The response to my first story has been overwhelmingly positive. I cannot begin to say how grateful I am for the all of the support I received by so many people. At the time of my writing this, it received over 11,000 views, nearly 60 votes with a ranking of 4.41. My great hope is that you enjoy this story as much, if not more than, my first.

The following story doesn't need to be read after the first one, but it wouldn't hurt.

As a final note, in my fantasy world men aren't afraid to show off their bodies or wear clothes that accentuate their assets. The world has long since accepted this; rarely are boxers and board shorts ever worn.

Enjoy!

*****

________________________________________

After spending most of the afternoon with my Dad at the Pines Motel, I was finally dressed and on my way to the boat. Given the state of my suit and dress shirt, I had changed into gym clothes. My cover story was that after the interview, I had gone to the gym and worked out not realizing what time it was.

I watched the upscale shops and old oak trees sweep by me as I gunned the engine towards the marina on the north shore. The boulevard was light with traffic, and I let the jeep chew up the road. Thinking about Lorenzo, I had to smile. While part of me was happy for my mother in finding a guy like Lorenzo, I was completely jealous. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from crushing on him.

They met while my mother was vacationing in Italy, and when her time there ended; Lorenzo came back with her. While most women would leave their foreign affair overseas; bringing Lorenzo home extended her adventure. She brought him home like you might bring home a pair of Prada loafers, or some Murano glass. It's not that I thought she didn't care for him, but it wasn't love. Recently divorced from her second husband, I thought a boyfriend would be the farthest thing from her mind.

Lorenzo's youth and virility were clearly central to the relationship, but I think she was equally charmed by the mental and social stimulation he provided; everyone was, and I was no exception. The youngest son of an aristocratic family, he was the artistic type.

While appreciative of her gifts, he had always known and experienced luxury so he wasn't flabbergasted by her extravagant lifestyle. Lorenzo indulged with her, as her equal, and sometimes exposed her to new delights she hadn't yet discovered.

When I first saw Lorenzo, I was hooked. I hadn't thought much about my attraction to men before, thinking maybe it was a phase. Even though my first time wasn't with him, seeing Lorenzo, I knew. I would always be a sucker for a gorgeous man.

★★★★★

After graduating from boarding school, Mom was taking me to dinner with her new boyfriend at the Marina. It was a really beautiful May night, warm enough to wear short sleeves, but breezy enough for light pants.

On our way to the hostess station to announce our arrival, we passed the bar. With a casual stance, this tall blond adonis with broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist, took my breath away. Dressed in a crisp blue linen button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons open, his naturally light tan skin was accented subtly. The whitest trousers I have ever seen graced his thighs, hinting at a firm bubble butt and a prominent bulge. When his light green eyes met my hazel ones, I could have creamed my briefs.

"Lorenzo! Ciao Bello!" My mother suddenly called out at my shoulder.

With a wave, my steamy wet dream crossed the room, a twinkle in his eyes. Kissing my mother romantically, he turned and held out his hand to me.

"You must be Rod, it's so good to finally put a face to the legend!" Lorenzo's voice seemed to caress and stroke every syllable as it left his mouth. The kind of voice that could recite the phone book and be absolutely captivating.

I hadn't blushed since I was a kid. Yet with Lorenzo, I was always blushing. It started that night when he teased me about all the things my mother had told him about me. It wasn't mean or anything, just him being playful. That was just the kind of person he was. He had a charming mischievous streak that was tempered by a warm attentiveness. It seemed to me that Lorenzo sought not only to enjoy his own life, but to see the people around him enjoy theirs as well.

★★★★★

Finally, I was parking the jeep and noticed my phone buzzing beside me. I picked it up and read a text from my mother.

MOM: Have a migraine. Enjoy some 'male bonding' with Lorenzo. He picked you up some things in case you forgot to bring a bag. CU tomorrow.

I totally forgot that tonight we were supposed to spend the night aboard the "

Toy

," and felt like a total jack-ass that my mother and her boyfriend already figured I'd forget and planned accordingly.

Sighing, I got out of the jeep and threaded my way through the cars in the parking lot, and showed my ID to the security guard on duty. Walking along the docks, I spotted the luxurious sailing yacht the Toy, and caught her skipper stretching. Lorenzo was dressed in a pair of high cut, but loose red shorts with a clingy white polo over it. Facing away from me, I loved how his stretch was causing his taut but bubbly ass to strain against the material. As I got closer, he turned towards me more. The hem of his shirt rode up, revealing his lower abs and his sexy adonis belt. The late afternoon sun was backlighting him, suffusing his sun-kissed skin with a sultry glow. The sight of him like this caused my prick to twitch in my black nylon basketball shorts.

I walked slowly to enjoy the view as long as possible, but the stretch finished all too soon. Seeing me, he raised a hand in greeting. As I came closer, Lorenzo called out to me.

"Ciao, Rod! You made it." His genuine smile was sweet and warm.

"Wouldn't miss it." I smiled nervously at him.

"I see it's good I picked you up some things, you forgot our excursion was an overnight, yes?" Lorenzo's eyes shimmered with playful mirth.

After I stepped aboard, Lorenzo pulled me into a "man hug" complete with the hand shaking and the back slapping. Pulling back he looked at me over the rims of his tortoiseshell sunglasses and smiled appreciatively at me.

"Go below and change, I will get us past the breakwater."

★★★★★

Lorenzo's boat was what I would call an "old money ship" because it wasn't the biggest or flashiest one in the marina but it was easily the nicest. What it lacked in size and outward panache, it more than made up for in the details. Below decks had three staterooms, two aft and one forward. In the center was a lounge with a fully equipped galley that was larger than most Manhattan kitchens.

With Lorenzo it was always about the details. All the wood was teak and shined to a warm golden hue. All the fabrics were an off white with pale blue stripes. The fixtures were all well crafted and of superior quality. It all felt very grand without feeling overdone.

Going down below, I went towards the bigger of the two aft staterooms and saw a note on the door saying "Wasn't sure what you'd like so I bought extra." Opening the door, I saw the bed covered with bags of all shapes and sizes. Letting out a chuckle, I started going through the bags.

The first bag I opened revealed some brand new Sanuk boat shoes, probably better for the ship than the ankle socks and trainers I was currently rocking. The next few bags were plain white tee shirts in a few different styles, but they were all the right size. So were a couple of pairs of shorts. Finally I got to the underwear and swimsuit bags, and had to smile. Lorenzo had bought me enough underwear and swimsuits to go on a week long cruise. To be fair, both underwear and swimsuits ran the gamut from mild to wild. But more wild than mild. The first swimsuit I pulled out was a laced up pair of blue Sauvage square cuts, the next was a distressed flag brief by Clever, the last was a racy turquoise speedo that revealed as much as it concealed. All the underwear was either bikini briefs or skimpy hip briefs.

Deciding to up the ante, I got out a pair of scissors and got busy on the shirts and shorts.

★★★★★

When I finally made my way up on deck, I could feel the ship smoothly tacking at a brisk clip. Using the handrail for support, I shaded my eyes and saw Lorenzo. The blonde Italian was behind the wheel, and though it was hard to tell where his eyes were looking, his slack jaw gave me a good idea.

I made my way back towards him smiling as I went. In my time below, I took the loosest of the plain white tees and had cut off the sleeves, making huge arm holes. The neckline was now a rough v shape, and I also trimmed off a bit off the bottom so it barely skimmed the top of the cut offs. When Lorenzo bought them, the shorts were on the modest side of provocative. After my scissors had done their work, they hinted more than they hid, and teased more than they tamed. I wore the Sanuks until I was able to get to my seat, at which point I got rid of them.

Sitting on the chair beside Lorenzo's, I spread my legs out and away from us. I showed off my tan legs, highlighting the tone I worked hard to achieve. The way my legs were spread, it was clear if he were sitting opposite me he could have gotten an eyeful of what I was wearing underneath. Stretching my arms, I felt the thin cotton ride up, and hoped my mother's boyfriend got as good view as I got earlier.

Lorenzo only smiled, regaining whatever composure he had lost. We made small talk for awhile, which caused me to relax a bit. But I also started to like the guy more as I got to know him better.

As we talked, I asked him about his art, which everyone raved about but I hadn't seen. Lorenzo was self deprecating about his own work, saying it was a pleasure to make art, but so many others were better than him. For years, he told me, his dream had been to open a gallery.

By this point we were entering the quiet inlet that he had discovered shortly after arriving to the states. A natural sandbar kept the expanse of water clear of debris and small sharks, and the terrain that bordered it left a small sandy beach that was all but nonexistent in high tide. With practiced efficiency, Lorenzo had the sails taken in and the ship anchored just off the sandbar.

Watching him scramble across the deck, first getting us moored and then making his way towards me, I was reminded of how young he was. It was one of the harder parts of accepting their relationship, Lorenzo was at most five or six years older than me. Standing in front of me grinning, it was impossible to ignore.

"Relax, make yourself at home. I'm going to start on dinner."

"Do you want me to help?" I asked

"No, no. It's a small galley; I'd be all over you." His enigimatic smirk got me blushing again.

Having made me blush, he clapped me on the shoulder with a wink, and descended belowdecks to make our dinner at sea.

As Lorenzo began to cook down in the galley, I listened as he put on some soft music. Chris Botti, I thought to myself. I moved to the foredeck, and found the deck loungers a little wet. Stretching out on the white lounger, I actually liked the cool wetness of the fabric along the skin of my legs.

Closing my eyes, I laid back and pillowed my head on one arm. Slowly drifting in and out of a doze, I thought back to the Fourth of July. Letting my right hand drift across my thigh, up over the denim of my crotch; I remembered it was scorching hot.

My mother and sister were off at the market picking up extra party stuff and charcoal, leaving Lorenzo and I alone in the house. It would be at least an hour before they came home.

A cool breeze blew across my skin, but thinking about what I saw that day had me getting warmer. My hand trailed up my body, threading its way under my shirt, pressing it up. Teasingly, I traced the edge of my left nipple.

I was emptying the dryer and folding stuff in the laundry room when I looked out on the yard. From that vantage point, I could see most of the pool and accompanying deck. Where I stood, it would be hard for anyone to see into the small room. Just glancing up, I saw Lorenzo pulling himself out of the pool.

As the afternoon sun attempted to warm my exposed skin, a salty breeze caressed it. With the crisp air hardening my nipples, I dragged one leg across the other, luxuriating in the contact. Letting out a soft sigh of pleasure, I delved deeper.

Sun kissed arms flexing as they propelled the tapering body out of the pool. Water sluicing down his back in streams before I saw his strikingly black speedo clad ass break the surface. Somehow or another, he twisted and stood gracefully. In profile, as he slowly turned, the curve of the swimsuit seemed barely able to maintain its grip of his luscious ass. Towels forgotten now, I cursed him for wearing a black swimsuit. All it did was flatten out any contours in the pouch from this distance.

Moaning in remembered frustration, I laid my head against the cushion, allowing my left hand to trail down my chest, angling for the top of the cutoffs. Squeezing harder on my sensitive nipple, I dragged my nail across it before going for my right one. My other hand wasn't slacking off either.

As I watched, Lorenzo straddled a chaise lounger and sat with his legs spread out, a foot on either side. From my hidden view, I watched as he played with his nipples. My mother's boyfriend let his hands slide down his perfectly tanned washboard stomach, the tips of his fingers slid under the waistband of the black speedo.

I popped the button of my cutoffs, and stroked the flesh just above the waistband that was now peeking through. Another pleasing twist on my nipple, sent an electric shock of pleasure directly to my concealed cock. Digging my fingers down under the waistband, my fingers glided through my closely shorn pubic hair.

Yearning for a better view, a closer look, I watched as my wet dream began to stroke his cock. I wished I could see more, maybe to tell if he was cut or uncut. I pretended that I could see the head of his meat, popping out of his fist on the downstrokes. Soft red lips moved, moaning out what, I couldn't hear. The shorts I was wearing were getting tight as I watched this private show.

Extracting my hand from my cutoffs, I slowly stroked the bulge my cock was creating. Looking down I could see a wet spot forming as my precum bubbled up from the memory.

I watched as he lifted up a bottle of suntan oil and poured a copious amount into his open palm. Setting the oil aside, his dry hand slid in under the waistband of the speedo. I imagined those fingers were rolling his balls around. The oily hand was now working his meat, I couldn't see how big his cock was, but by the way his hand gripped it, it looked thick. Thicker than me.

My hands were teasing all the right spots and I was hard and dripping. Looking behind me, I decided to take the risk. I was too horned up not to. I pushed the material aside, and poured suntan oil over the head of my big cock. As I began to work the slick, oily substance into my skin, coating my shaft, I went back to my memory.

Standing in the laundry room, I kept absentmindedly stroking my aching cock inside my cargo shorts. The sensation of the silk of my green striped boxers rubbing against my sensitive glans was intoxicating. As I watched Lorenzo work his piece, I imagined that it was his hand working my cock instead of his own.

Precum began to mix with the suntan oil making my cock extra slippery. Licking my index finger, I brought it down to my nipple. Swirling it around the rim before I firmly squeezed it between my fingers. As I did, my cock belched out more precum, adding to the mix I was stroking with.

I couldn't help myself, I unzipped my shorts and fished my cock out of my silk boxers. Trying to think of what I could use for lube or something, I saw in amongst the stuff that just came out of the dryer was a pair of Lorenzo's skimpy speedos. Fingering the light material, it was still warm, almost hot to the touch. They also had an almost slick feel to them, and a wet look besides in a deep blue.

As I swirled my fingers around the corona of my cock, I tightened my fist for the downstroke. Twisting them around my shaft as I rose back up, I squeezed my glans hard, pumping more precum into my fist for another tight down stroke.

Wrapping the slinky material of Lorenzo's speedo around my cock almost got me to shoot on the spot. Turning my attention back to my wet dream outside, I pumped my cock into and through the steamy hot material. Groping myself, I imagined that that warmth was Lorenzo's hand, no mouth engulfing me whole.

He was so close to me, Lorenzo was practically under my ass, cooking dinner. I had to be quiet. Biting down on one fist, I pumped my cock into the other one like it was an exquisitely tight mouth. I watched the head pop out of my fist over and over again, until my eyes rolled back into my head.

Lorenzo was really working his cock hard now. I could see his fist was a blur, and his other hand groped his nuts that were still teasingly hidden by the black swimsuit he wore. The way his speedo rolled over my shaft, gripping it, tangling it up in delicious silky warmth was causing my toes to curl. I wouldn't last much longer.

My teeth almost drew blood as I bit down on my fist. I could feel my climax building in my sack. Any second, just another few strokes.

I was leaking like a faucet all over his speedo, I could feel my balls tightening up. Fuck his mouth was glorious. Watching his full lips moaning out by the pool, I couldn't hear what he said but I imagined those full lips were wrapped around my cock right now, sucking the life right out of me.

Hearing Lorenzo assembling and plating our dinner was too much. I exploded all over my chest; great geysers of cum erupting across my abs up to my pecs.

Two car door slams signaled my mother and sister's return. But it was like a gunshot for my nerves. Maybe Lorenzo heard it too because his whole body seized as we both began to spurt. Blowing my load into the hot speedo, saturating the material, it felt like I was marking my territory. Footsteps getting closer to the laundry room, I calmly threw the speedo into the washer with some of my clothes I was going to wash. Folded my dick back into my boxers and zipped up my shorts.

At that moment, I heard Lorenzo begin to walk up the steps from belowdecks. Hurriedly I dragged a towel across my cum coated chest, deciding I would deal with it later.

"Dinner is served!"

When I heard Lorenzo coming up the stairs behind my back; I quickly zipped up my cutoffs, and let my shirt drift back into place. I hurried to sit down, hopefully hiding the rapidly deflating, but satisfied, bulge in my shorts before he noticed.

Lorenzo came up from the galley carrying a tray laden with food and wine. Laying it across the table situated in the on deck lounge in front of the steering wheel, we sat down to eat.