Separate names with a comma.
I met a stunning young Portuguese lad on a nudist beach on the Greek island of Zante once. We clearly admired each others bodies from the looks we exchanged, but actually then both put Speedos on to go and swim in the beautiful warm sea. We splashed about for a bit, and laughed as we talked, but then our eyes met.
We couldn't take our hands off each other!
He wrapped his legs around my waist under the water as we kissed. I eased down the back of his swim briefs. My cock was rock hard by now and he put his hand inside my favourite blue Speedos, and pulled the front of them down so it cupped my balls.
As he clung to me with his arms around my shoulders his legs were still gripping me, and I entered him gently. His eyes closed as he smiled with obvious delight. His tightness gripped me as we experienced the ecstasy of every thrust.
We fucked until I came inside him, both still wearing our trunks. The sea seemed to add buoyancy to our love making. The people on the beach must have guessed what was going on, but we were oblivious. We kissed passionately and swam back to the shore. Lay on the beach sunbathing for a while, before he told me it was his last day on holiday, and his flight home was scheduled for that evening.
Now some of you, myself included to a point, might have been cynical about what he said, but this was many years ago, before Aids, before the internet, before ghosting and all the other nonsense of the social media age.
So yes, I drove him back into town in my hire car, we wined and dined at a Greek restaurant, we picked up his suitcase from his apartment, and I took him to the airport where he checked in for his plane.
We stayed in touch for a while, but we were never going to recapture that afternoon on the beach in Zante.
But that is one reason why I try to take at least one holiday a year in the Greek islands.
If you're out there Paolo, I still remember you xxx