We were all sitting on their back porch on the first night, and I could feel my hospitable Swiss hosts staring daggers at me. They were surely curious of what exactly our problematic student-teacher relationship entailed; and why exactly I was sitting on my mathematics professor's lap. Dr. Patterson began rubbing my thigh and slowly scrunching my shorts back to my pelvis to show off my toned thighs to the others.
"Why don't you take these off--show us your legs in all their glory."
I couldn't even respond. My hormones were vibrating in waves throughout my body; their worshiping eyes acting as an incendiary oil, dripping onto the raging fire spreading inside me. He reached down and unbuckled my shorts and slid them down my thighs, and as I lifted my legs they fell off my ankles. The khaki shorts seemingly floated down onto the ground with the motion of a ship dropping its anchor into stormy waters--amidst an epic journey the captain knew it was too late to turn back from. I had to close my eyes and consciously stop myself from whimpering as the falling fabric brushed along my bare feet, leaving my gray underwear the only barrier between Patterson and I.
"What beautiful thighs," Falem remarked. "You must let me paint you." He turned to Gannerheim. "A portrait of him would look lovely hung up downstairs."
"Our very own American Dorian Gray," laughed Gannerheim, as he turned to me. "Would you let us paint you and hang it up? We'd pay you for it." He, sitting on the chair closest to Patterson and I, began to rub my bare thigh.
"Well, sure," I replied, somewhat timidly. "I'm honored that you'd even ask. I didn't think my body was anything special."
"Please," Falem interjected, almost begging. "Take the shirt off--your upper half must be as spectacular as your lower."
"Okay," I softly replied, blushing and averting my eyes as Patterson gripped the bottom of my shirt and softly lifted it over my head.
"Truly a magnificent creature," Gannerheim remarked with awe, as he leaned over and rubbed my stomach. Patterson simultaneously caressed my waist and back, his fingers still cold from his icy glass.
"Stand up for us, Jake."
I obeyed Patterson's order and stood up, facing him. Without saying a word he gripped onto the band of my underwear and dragged it down my legs until I was left completely nude; and he turned me, presenting me to the men. I held my hands casually to the side, with my soft cock and hairless, toned body shining brightly against their hypnotized, silent gaze. I was too full of lust to be embarrassed, or show even a faint glimmer of timidity or self-doubt by that point. I suddenly realized what I was: their perfect ideal, their long-awaited beacon of angelic, sexual innocence; and now they knew it too.
"He's... he's--"
"He's perfect," Gannerheim finished.
Patterson nudged me forward towards Gannerheim, and the two others moved their chairs magnetically closer to me. The three men glided their rough, strong fingers across my body; wandering onto my soft cock, my thighs, and my ass; I couldn't help but moan out from the hormonal explosions bursting across my body from their worshiping touch.
Gannerheim stuck his pointer finger into my mouth, and I closed my eyes and fluttered it across my tongue, just as I could hear Patterson scoot his chair closer behind me. I looked around, and I suddenly found myself surrounded by the four men in their chairs; their eager eyes and dancing hands praying and preying upon their youthful altar, as the vibrant colors of the sunset laid like blankets upon the surrounding sky.
"Bend down onto my lap, Jake." Patterson turned me back around towards him, and I leaned over onto his faded blue jeans with my ass up in the air. I stared at his familiar belt buckle as my mouth salivated. I was bulge-to-face, and I wanted nothing more than for it to burst out headfirst through the fabric and pump into my mouth mercilessly. I felt Patterson palm each of my cheeks and spread my ass apart for the men; and I began rubbing my face against his bulge, unable to contain myself--unable to continue being their passive picturesque statue for a second longer. I heard Patterson's voice thunder above me.
"I present to you: The Golden Hole."
My exposed hole of gold gave the men a dramatic wink with a well-timed kegel just as he said the words, and he began to move his wet finger in circles around the wrinkled rim.
"It's... it's--"
"It's beautiful," Falem finished, his voice in a shriller, higher pitch than usual.
I moaned out as Patterson's finger entered me, and I suddenly felt another enter me as well. I looked behind and saw that Gannerheim now had his finger in me too, and Falem and Schulz were caressing my thighs and cheeks.