our-perfect-vacation-2

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Subject: Our Perfect Vacation Chapter II Hello there, yes, I know I am a bold one, but so are you! Are you here legally? This story contains sexual actions of men and underage boys (well, the next chapter will anyway, this chapter contains sex between adult males). If this is fine by you, get naked and enjoy. Take pictures! If this story is illegal where you are because of location or religious reasons, or it’ll offend you, stop reading. Or not. I’m a paragraph. Not a cop. Anyway, Nifty can’t continue to host stories such as this without help from readers like you! Give `til it hurts! “$4.30 for a gallon of gas?” London spluttered as I swiped my credit card at the pump. “It’s terrible, but it makes sense. We’re in California now, and we’re still a ways away from a town or city. Can’t be cheap, hauling gas up the mountain.” I said this as I selected the grade and began pumping. “Makes sense, I suppose.” London washed the windshield as I pumped. We went inside when we were done, and browsed the snack section and drink coolers. We loaded with junk, caffeinated drinks, and headed to the counter. While London paid, I wandered to the corner where I saw a lottery machine. I also saw a machine that sold scratch off lottery tickets. I never really gambled, and neither did London. But it was vacation. I put in some cash, and was rewarded with a scratch off ticket. I dug into my pocket and found a quarter. London came up behind me, and looked at what I was doing. “Good luck,” he said. “This is probably slanted so the house wins,” I said and began scratching. When I was done, I was $400 richer. I cashed in the ticket at the register, and was rewarded with twenty twenty dollar bills. Happier, London and I got back in the Charger and kept heading down the mountain. We had driven across the country, and had entered California through the Donner Pass. The sun was down, and the hour was late as we stopped at the bay bridge to get into San Francisco itself. Handing over one of my new twenties, I received eight bucks change, and was waved through. I gently dug my elbow into London’s side. “Wake up, babe. We’re here.” London stirred and sat up straight. “Looks beautiful.” “We’re on the bridge. I’m sure it’ll look much nice once it’s daytime.” “We’re here pretty late. Will the hotel be okay with it?” London said as he checked his phone and frowned. “Yeah. While you were asleep, I called the hotel and pre-reged.” “That’s a good idea.” London nodded and smiled. Pre-registering is good for when you’re going to arrive late in the day, or night, and want to make sure you have a room. If 8 o’clock rolls around, and you haven’t checked in, management might give your room away. Calling ahead and pre-registering secures your room. I knew the hotel wasn’t too terribly far from the interstate, so I picked an exit at random. We hit the city streets, and the first thing we saw was a gay bar. London and I looked at each other and smiled. We both knew we’d go there later. A few minutes later, red and blue lights were flashing in my rearview mirror. “The fuck?” I asked aloud as I signaled and turned onto a side street. I pulled over and turned on the hazard lights and buzzed down the window. London and I made sure our hands were in plain sight as the cop walked up. “Hello there,” he said. “Hi,” I said. London just smiled in a nervous way. “You don’t have a rear license plate. California law requires one.” The cop said this as gravely as if I had just run somebody over. “Oh. Sorry.” I said this in an embarrassed manner. “Yeah. It’s a new law. Went into effect this year.” “I didn’t know. This is a rental. We’re from out of state.” I showed him the rental contract. “I have my license if you want,” I said, pointing to my wallet which was still on the dashboard from paying the bridge toll. “Uh-huh. You do have a paper in your rear windshield.” The cop took my license and shone his flashlight on the temporary registration paper in the rear window. The rental car was so new it didn’t have an actual license plate yet. New cars in our state were given a paper that acted as both a license plate and temporary registration for eight weeks while the actual plates and official registration came in the mail. “Nervous?” London asked. “Not really. If he’s a good cop, and not anal, he won’t ticket me. It’s a rental, out of state, and it’s properly registered and insured. We may have to deal with this a few more times as various cops see us. We’ll be okay.” Soon the cop came back, and handed me my paperwork and license back. Everything checked out, and he let us go after admiring the car. We talked about the gas mileage and he marveled we’d driven it across the country. I agreed it was a nice machine, and I wasn’t expecting to get such a rental. Soon, we were pulling up to the hotel. We parked and carried our bags with some haste to the lobby. A night employee slid my credit card and handed us two key cards. Rising in the elevator, London and I tapped our feet nervously. It had been a while since we’d last seen a bathroom, and needed relief. London opened the room door, and headed to the bathroom, dropping his bags onto the floor, and stripping as he went. I didn’t admire his body. I was busy shutting and locking the door. London was naked when he came out of the zonguldak escort bathroom, the toilet in mid-flush. I was naked as well, and dashed by him and relieved myself. When I came out, London was pulling the sheets off the bed, his cock flaccid, swinging in the air as he moved. I admired it, my own flaccid cut cock twitching a bit, but not more. It wasn’t from lack of love, lust, or passion; it just had been a very long day. We had driven across the country. We could go to sleep, and sleep in, no sunlight to waste because we didn’t have any morning plans. “I’m too tired to get it up,” London said. “Me too,” I agreed as I pulled down the sheets on my side. We got into bed, and got into each other’s arms. We loved to sleep naked together. We loved that wonderful skin on skin contact. Our soft cocks rubbed against the other’s body, and we kissed and murmured our love for each other. The next morning, London and I slept in, and made it to a diner for breakfast. After a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausages and toast, we began walking around the city. We had some time to kill before our ferry to Alcatraz, and we wanted to make sure we didn’t slip into a food coma. With time, we toured Fisherman’s Wharf, Alcatraz, and took plenty of pictures. We bought some souvenirs which we carefully packed up and shipped home. This was our tradition. Ship them home, and always be amazed by what we saw when we opened the boxes. It was like going on the trip again, but in the comfort of our own home. That night, we showered separately. It wasn’t as big as our shower at home, so we did it one at a time. London went first. When I got out, my blond hair dripping water, I had a towel wrapped around my waist. The television was on, some random movie was playing. Dinner was set up. London had room service deliver it while I was showering. “Mmm. Smells good. What’d we get?” I asked this as I embraced him. His shirt was off, his body gleaming in the light of the room’s lamps. London pulled off the domes like a magician preforming a trick, and I saw steak and all the good fixings one could want with it. How I loved him. He knew what I liked, and he liked the same. We dug in. After dinner, we were in bed, naked of course. The television was on, but we weren’t watching. We were pay attention to each other. I kissed London, my tongue parting his soft lips, feeling the hint of mint from when he brushed his teeth. He moaned, and slid his hand down my back. He cupped my ass, fondling it with great care. He pulled me closer to him, and our hard cocks rubbed against each other. London pushed me onto my back, and kissed his way off my mouth. With great care, he kissed my cheeks, then my neck, sucking and licking. He was gentle, and I knew he wouldn’t leave a mark there. I smiled at the ceiling because I knew he’d leave his love marks on my chest where they would be covered by my shirt. As London kissed and sucked my nipples, my cock rubbed against his chest, smearing pre all over. He kissed his way down and surrounded my belly button with kisses, massaging my thighs. My cock twitched and bobbed in the air as it waited his arrival. Grasping my hard shaft, London didn’t stroke it. “London,” I whimpered. “Stroke it. Make me feel good,” “Soon,” he murmured with an impish grin on his face. London licked the tip of my cock, tasting my pre. He then kissed my balls, and licked them. My shaft throbbed and more pre escaped. He still had hold of it, but didn’t stroke it. I tried to buck my hips so I could get some stroking action, but he held me down with his gentle touch. Finally, London took my 6.5 inch cock into his mouth, and began sucking. My eyes rolled up as I sank into the pleasure my husband was giving me. He sucked my cock with practiced ease, stroking my thick shaft. He cupped my balls, and fingered my hole. I was writhing on the bed, waves of pleasure washing over me. London pulled his mouth off my cock, his lips glistened with saliva. He moved up, and kneeled over me his 7.5 inch cock waving in my face. I took hold of his flesh with one hand, and stroked while I cupped and squeezed his butt with my other. I sucked on it, London groaned over me. His beautiful ball sack was swinging in the air, and I slipped a finger into his hole. I worked it in and out of him as I sucked him off, his hands bracing himself on the wall. I pulled London close to me, and kissed him, our tongues touching, sampling the taste of cock on our mouths. I groped with one hand, and found the drawer of the nightstand. I pulled out the bottle of lube, and soon, London was sliding inside me with ease. His big cock throbbed inside me, hitting all the right places, and I threw my head back and cried out his name. My legs were wrapped around London’s waist, his eyes gazing into mine as he fucked me. That’s what this session was. Fucking. Just raw, strong, passion for the other man. Again and again, his cock slammed into me, I moaned as I felt his delicious hardness move inside me. I held him close and kissed him, growling for more as I did so. My hands held onto his waist as he grunted, sweat gleaming on his beautiful chest. We rolled over, still locked together. I began bucking up and down, slamming down onto him, rubbing his chest and gently pinching his nipples tunalı escort as I rode his pole of pleasure. Soon, he was panting, and I could tell he was close. He stroked my cock as it wagged in front of him, and I was close as well. Soon, our pleasuring had pushed us to the edge, and over it. “Oh, baby. Oh, I’m cumming!” London moaned as I felt his cock pulse and throb and begin coating my inside with his hot cum. The fact that my husband was cumming into me had me going. I grabbed his shoulders, looking him in the eye, my nails digging in a bit, as my cock erupted and several ropes of hot white cum flew out. I collapsed on him, panting for air. “Oh my god, that was incredible,” I moaned as I embraced his sweaty chest. “It was the best!” he responded, kissing me. When we had gotten our breath back, we got up, and showered again. We went to bed, naked, and in each other’s arms. I loved this man with all my heart. I knew he loved me, and I was so happy to be his. The next morning, we got up, and went to Ghirardelli Square. We walked around, and enjoyed the many fine chocolates the store had to offer. We sat at table overlooking the bay, and had large mugs of salted caramel hot chocolate. We took some pictures of the bay, and Alcatraz in the middle of the bay. Discovering a mini golf course downstairs, we paid for admission, and played a round. We trash talked each other in a good natured way as we played through the tiny course that had San Francisco monuments and locations. Lunch was approaching. We went to the store, and got plenty of stuff for a lunch on the beach. When I parked, overlooking the ocean, the Golden Gate Bridge to our right, I couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in my eyes. The engine rumbled with its power as we sat there, and I cried a little bit. London touched my arm in a concerned manner. “Babe, you okay?” I could hear the worry in his voice. “Y-yeah,” I said, my voice halting. “It’s…just so beautiful and powerful. We’ve driven as far as we can go. We can’t go further west. The ocean is magnificent.” London hugged me. I returned the embrace. We got out, and pulled the picnic basket from the trunk. We went down the steps and onto the beach. Soon, we were sitting on a blanket, enjoying the sandwiches we made. The day was chilly but since we were from cold weather, we didn’t mind. We actually were wearing speedos. His was red. Mine was blue. I couldn’t help gazing at his speedo bulge from time to time. He gazed at mine. I saw a few guys discreetly checking us out as well. After lunch, we sat, gazing at the ocean. Mesmerized by the constant waves. Container ships came and went. Kids ran up and down the beach. Neither one of us had a watch. Our phones were locked in the car. I don’t know how long we sat there, but we eventually got up, and dived into the ocean. We played for a while. A few souls braved the chilly water, but none joined us. London and I stood in the ocean, waves breaking over us, tasting the salt on each other’s lips. “I love you,” he said, water dripping from his hair. “I love you,” I said, my cock hard in my speedo. When we got back to the hotel, it was 3 in the afternoon. We showered, washing the salt and sand down the drain and got dressed. London was excited. I was too. It was time for the baseball game. It would be our first MLB game. Oakland Athletics versus the Texas Rangers. Since it began in the evening, we encountered rush hour traffic. I was relieved when the stadium came into sight. I wasn’t so relieved when I saw the signs. London let out a gasp of exclamation. $30 to park. “Well, now I guess we know how the teams can afford to pay their players millions of dollars.” I grumbled this as I reached for my wallet. “Yeah,” London scowled. “Thirty bucks to park? What a rip!” I got a receipt from the parking attendant, and found a spot. Not having any idea of the layout of the lot or stadium, we chose an entrance at random, and went through a metal detector. Our tickets were scanned, and we found ourselves halfway around the stadium from where we needed to be. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,” London said as we walked around the stadium. The grounds crew was hosing down the dirt. Gotta have clean dirt! We found where our seats were, but didn’t go sit. Instead, we got in line for food. Soon, we had pizza, hot dogs, popcorn, and sodas and headed to our seats. We showed our tickets to a frowning elderly lady who made sure we weren’t ruffians out to steal good seats. We descended some steps, and got to our seats, about ten rows behind first base. “Well, shall we dig in?” I asked. “Not yet. Wait until the national anthem and then we can sit until the seventh inning stretch.” “Oh, good idea.” Some unknown celebrities sang the national anthem and threw out the first pitch. We dug in, munching on pizza and popcorn. The teams took the field. It wasn’t until the second inning that I came up with something. “Who’re we gonna cheer for?” I asked. There wasn’t a baseball team where we lived, and we didn’t follow the sport. Since it was the sport in season on our vacation, that’s why we were at the game. “How about whoever is up?” London suggested, waving over a vendor for more soda. “Sounds good!” We enjoyed the game, buying a blanket and matching tunceli escort beanies. When it was over, we hit the bathroom, and when we came out, everyone was ushering us out as if the building was on fire. “It’s like they’re trying to beat the clock or something,” I groused as a security guard glared at us. A cop was in parking lot, bellowing over a loudspeaker how the game was over and we should stop tailgating and go home. Soon, we had crossed over the bridge, paying again to cross it, and back in our hotel. Since we were stuffed with junk food, we just got into bed and cuddled. Though I couldn’t show it, I was excited. Tomorrow would be the big day. If I could bluff London, it would be the greatest surprise he ever had. I was deep in his arms when my phone went off. I grabbed it, silenced it, and then held to my ear as if I was taking a call. I gave a few yeahs and uh-huhs, and even a “Are you fucking kidding me?” came out. London woke up some from his sleep as I talked to myself. “Whas happen?” he asked sleepily. “Work, babe. There’s been a major problem, and I got to go back.” I sat by him on the bed, and caressed his cheek. “Buh vacation” he mumbled. “I know. I’m sorry. Once this is dealt with, we can go back on vacation, and have a good time.” “Days to drive back.” “I know,” I said, kissing his forehead. “They’ve got plane tickets for us. First class. Get me back in hours, not days. We’ll stop by the-” London cut me off as he bolted upright. “I don’t do flying! I don’t much like planes!” he said this, worry in his eyes. “I know,” I said soothingly. “We’ll stop at the store first, and get you your relaxing pill, so you can make it back.” London didn’t much like flying. Too much turbulence and there was no way planes could defy gravity. On our honeymoon, he got on the plane after he took two pills of Doctor Snooze’s Snooze Aid. We’d buy it on the way to the airport. “Do we have time for breakfast?” London asked. “Yeah. We need to be there by 9:45” When we parked in the long term parking lot at the SFO airport, we got onto the shuttle. London was dragging his feet, already having taken two pills so he could relax. He nodded off on the way to the terminal, and I helped him to a chair by the airline ticket counter. He slouched there, an odd grin on his face as I went to the first class check in counter. “We’re checking in, and my husband needs a wheelchair,” I pointed. “Okay,” the attendant said, speaking into her radio. I slid over our passports, which I had secretly packed, and confirmed that our luggage was ours, and hadn’t been left unattended. I paid the baggage fees, and was rewarded with our plane tickets. Not home. The opposite direction in fact. We’d by flying over the ocean soon. I went back to London, and waited for the wheelchair agent. A girl of no more than 18 showed up. “Hi, I’m Lindsay, did you request a wheelchair?” she chirped in a bright voice. “Yeah. For him.” London was pretty much out of it. He wasn’t drooling on himself, so I suppose that was good. I helped get London settled, and Lindsay put a seat belt on him. She led us to the security line, and since we were TSA Pre-check, we got to the front pretty quick. Our tickets and passports were examined, and we were waved ahead. Soon, we were at the gate. I had bought a bottle of water, and London sipped from it before he fell completely asleep. This was good as he totally missed the departure announcements to our destination. Lindsay got London aboard and I helped London get into his seat and I buckled his seat belt. I tipped Lindsay with one of the twenties I’d won from the scratch off ticket. I buckled myself in, and pulled the safety information card from the pocket in front of me. I opened it up, and saw the cartoonish versions of people trying not to die. London was still out of it. He missed the takeoff announcements, flight length, and even the lunch meal service. The flight attendant said if I buzzed her, she’d bring London something to eat when he woke up. London did wake up, used the restroom, and came back, a confused look on his face. “We’re not there yet?” he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Not yet. Have another pill, and sleep until we get there.” Too tired to do anything else, London complied. He slept the whole flight over the ocean and some land. We landed, and got another wheelchair. At customs, I said we were there for pleasure, and had nothing to declare. The customs agent looked suspiciously at London. “He doesn’t like flying. He took a sleeping pill and is still feeling the effects,” I explained and showed the bottle of pills we had bought. We got our passports stamped and moved on. A taxi took us to the hotel I’d booked us in, and I tipped the taxi driver ten bucks as he carried our bags inside. A bellman got another tip as he carried them to our room. I supported London. Locking the door, I got London to the bed. I sighed with relief. I was tired. It was late. We’d been travelling for many hours. “D’Artagnan? This isn’t bed.” London said this as I pulled his shoes off. “I know babe. They got us a hotel and…” before I could finish, London was asleep again. I undressed him, then myself. I got into bed with my husband, and was excited. We were in another country! We were going to go places tomorrow! One of the places was where we could rent boys to do with as we pleased! My cock got hard thinking of the fun we’d have with slim boys the next day. All righty then! Another chapter is done. I hope you enjoyed it, and enjoyed yourself! If you have questions, feel free to email ail

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