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ALEXANDER THE GREAT By Nigel Dean |
| I was always brought up to
work hard and to play even harder. From the earliest of age I understood
this to be the only maxim for success. As a teenager I studied and
worked like hell then played every sport going and still found time to
join the army cadet corps attached to the school. At university I
achieved a first class honours degree, was elected president of the boat
club and vice-captain of rugby. In my chosen career my grip upon the greasy pole of success was so tight that as soon as one promotion or job opportunity with a new employer was achieved the next was always on the horizon. I was doing well, earning a great salary and advancing forward in leaps and bounds. The only thing was work demanded so much time that play was diminishing to a tiny fraction of my life, so small it was difficult to notice it was there. As my twenty-seventh birthday was approaching my mind and body felt as if they were approaching the age of retirement not still a part of my youth. That would no do. As soon as nine o’clock on Saturday morning came I walked into my local branch of Thomas Cook and selected a holiday for the week after next. Perhaps this may sound as if I acted on a whim but you need to understand that I do nothing without sound and careful planning. I needed urgently to restore a balance in my life and the first step in doing this was to take a break, a holiday. But not just any holiday, I chose that particular Greek island with much care and I planned with just as much care the resort I would stay in. Careful planning and sound reasoning were at the centre of everything. The flight from London was quick, made all the quicker by the fact that I slept for most of the journey. Sleep was what I was planning for a good deal of the week, sleep and relaxation. No phones, no e-mails, no lap-top, nothing at all to do with work. Wonderful, I can not tell you just how wonderful. Inside the terminal building I spied out the route from the baggage reclaim to the exit. My mind could not divert from its natural way of thinking to sense the quickest and most efficient way to undertake any given task. By standing a few yards down from the baggage shoot I could see my suitcase as it clattered onto the carousel and have enough time to leisurely pick it up without the scramble those who had crammed themselves to my left were experiencing. Straight through the customs lane dedicated for citizens of the EU and out into the arrivals hall. A quick pan round, locate my waiting tour rep, fix her eye and be told the location of my shuttle coach. All accomplished in a matter of a few minutes. Just one problem ! While I was outside and seated on the coach others from the same aircraft were still inside fussing about and disappearing up their own backsides ! Another forty minutes were to elapse before we would be ready to leave. Have you ever noticed how the lesser intelligent typical English tourist abroad will speak to residents of which ever country they are in by communicating their words slowly and in some weird self-invented pan-European accent totally unrecognisable to any nationality ? It amused me to listen to each one of them in turn ask Alex if this was the coach to their hotel then for him to reply with a perfect middle-class English diction that indeed it was. On first sight I have to admit that Alex with his bronzed tan was so easy to mistake for a native of the island but his home town back in England turned out to be not that far from where I lived myself. I sat in the first row of seats on the coach, on the left and side directly and slightly above the driver. Alex was sitting on the front row on the other side of the isle. As we waited for the slower members of the group to arrive we struck up a conversation. “You traveling alone ?” Alex asked. I explained my need for some time away from work. “What do you do ?” “I’m the marketing director for a group of Internet sites.” “Interesting.” Alex of course was a holiday rep, no need to ask about his employment. He told me that he had been working on the island for three seasons. He spoke fluent German, French and Greek. “I did a modern languages degree,” he said. “If I ever find the time I would like to learn to speak Russian. I’d love to work there.” “Do you get much time to yourself in this job ?” “Not a lot.” Alex smiled. “For the past week my colleague has been off sick so I have had to do the work of two. Still I have a couple of days off starting tomorrow and have something special planned. Eventually, and I mean eventually, everyone was on board and Alex gathered his notes in order to formally welcome us all to Corfu. As he reached forward to pic up the microphone for the onboard pa system his tight arse presented itself close to my view. Hell, that was beautiful, two tight bum cheeks framed in dark Farrah trousers. But the pleasure was all too short as he turned round and began to speak. The driver started the engine and we moved off. Alex said that he hoped we had all had a good flight and assured us we would have a great holiday. He was there to help us and we should make use of his services. I closed my eyes as he moved on to talk about the history of the island and thought that of that beautiful backside. That was a service I certainly would like to take advantage of. If only ! Alex was of a similar age to me, rounded features with dark hair the majority of which was tipped with blond hi-lites. His tour rep uniform consisted of an orange shirt, open at the collar and dark trousers. Those trousers – yes ! The introductory talk had moved on to aspects of safety. “Please don’t use the swimming pools outside normal opening hours,” Alex explained. “That’s the time when they change the chemicals and filter the water. Earlier in the year three lads decided to go skinny dipping at four o’clock in the morning. That was just the time the filtration plant was running the cleaning agents and they all came out with green hair, and when I say green hair I mean all of their hair was green !” Everyone laughed and Alex had made his point. He went on to stress in exceedingly serious tone that the self-drive mopeds on the island were dangerous and that we should avoid them at all costs. So serious was he that he repeated his warning three times. I personally had no intention at all of using such a form of transport, I had my own plans for the week and they did not feature in them. On arrival at the hotel Alex checked us all into our rooms then made to leave. I wished him well for a couple of days off and a good rest. “Thanks,” he smiled. “My colleague will be back on duty in the morning then I will see you all again later in the week.” Alone in my room I took a shower then lay back naked on the top of a very comfortable bed. I wondered how things were going at work: What was the hourly hit rate ? How many visitors were there in the chat room ? Were the new sign-ups on target ? How many sales had been achieved through the on-line shop ? Perhaps I should go to the reception and ask to use a computer to check. NO ! Stuff it ! Instead I closed my eyes and drifted into a light sleep. Two hours later I surfaced to the world and it was time for dinner. The food was good, excellent in fact, and I ate well. Returning to my room I slid between the cool sheets and was soon fast asleep. Not for a long time had I been to bed quite so early and never since I was a small child have I slept for fourteen hours. That night I had one of the strangest dreams ever, kind of crazy and I wonder what Joseph, the ancient Biblical interpreter of dreams, would have made of it. I dreamed I had recently bought a Rolls Royce motor car, parked it in Central London somewhere and was unable to remember where. I was frantic with worry until I remembered Alex saying he was there to serve our every needs and was available for any problem we may have, however difficult. Surely he could find it. But I don’t know if he did or not, the dream moved on with both Alex and the Rolls Royce ceasing to feature. Make of that what you will, I guess it isn’t entirely relevant to the story line but I include it simply because it happened. Breakfast did not happen the next morning, I had slept later than intended and I needed to be on my way. I have a good memory and I had committed to it the route from a map I had searched out on the Internet before I left England. It would be about a thirty minute walk, no longer. I was right. The beach was secluded and one of the few on the island with pebble free sand. Of course it was private, costing twenty Euro’s to get in, well worth every penny, if you will excuse the fiscal pun, to join like-minded guys on one of the world’s premier gay beaches. I guess there would have been a couple of hundred guys there, nearly all of them quite naked – I mean what is the point of a gay nudist beach if you are going to cover yourself up ? I soon lost my own tee shirt and shorts then ambled down to the edge of the water. There were guys there of all shapes and sizes, and I don’t mean just their manhood ! There were white bean poles nervously looking out of place among so many bronzed bodies. There were guys from their late teens to ageing granddads. There were big guys who looked like beached whales, I swear if Green Peace were to have come by they would have tried to roll them back into the sea ! Some guys still had little white patches round their hips where swimming shorts had previously protected them from the sun. Others had an all over tan – I wondered if it came out of a bottle or from hours of nude sunbathing. If the former then who had been lucky enough to apply the lotion to parts where the recipient could jot reach ?!? Some guys proudly showed off mega hard ons while others hung limp. I was limp myself, I can never see the point in pumping all that testosterone unless you are going to do something with it. I would be hard enough when I was ready and with something to do – all being well it wouldn’t just be for a wank either ! I found a sun lounger, adjusted the back and lay inclined totally naked save for a pair of expensive, designer sunglasses. I watched a group playing volleyball. It can tell you it wasn’t just the plastic football that volleyed up and down as the players leaped and stretched into the game. Very entertaining. When they stopped playing I closed my eyes for a while before I would cruise the beach and check out a little more of the talent. Who knows, as I lay there reposed there could have been people checking me out ! I think I must have fallen into a doze, sleeping again, the voice sounded distant – as if I were in a dream. “Nigel ? Nigel ?” I stirred and opened my eyes, slowly adjusting them to the brilliant sunshine. “Hi. Sorry, I woke you.” “No, don’t worry about that. HI there !” It was Alex ! Alex the holiday rep. Alex from the airport bus. Alex with the tight trousers only he wasn't wearing them any more. He was on the beach, the same beach. I was astounded and delighted. Quickly I gained control of my emotions and assured myself this was not a dream then told him how pleased I was to see him again. “You look a whole lot better not wearing that tour company uniform,” I smiled. “Thank you, it is my day off and I try to wear as little as possible at such times. So have you come here with friends or are you alone ?” As he spoke Alex squatted down by the side of the sun lounger. “Quite alone,” I replied. “What about you ?” “I’m meeting a couple of friends later. It seldom happens that we are all free together but when we are we always meet up here. We fix ourselves a barbecue lunch and have some fun. Hey you can join us !” “But won’t your friends mind ?” “Spiros and Mike ? No they’ll be pleased to see you.” “Are you sure ?’ “Yeah, of course. Spiros is a waiter in one of the hotels on the island and Mike is a purser with one of the charter airlines flying tourists in and out of here. They won’t be here for a couple of hours yet though.” “So why are you early ?” Alex grinned, “To be honest I fancied a bit of talent spotting and hoped to find some good sex before lunch.” “Funny you should say that.” Do you believe in destiny ? I do but I don’t believe in luck – good or bad. To he who is prepared to dither through life, taking no control over events destiny will always deal a poor hand. But to the person who aims high and rules his life with determination destiny will only deal out picture cards and aces. Coming to Corfu for this brief holiday was in itself a picture card – perhaps a jack or even a queen. My first encounter with Alex was definitely a king as was my decision to visit the beach at the right time. But now I was about to turn over a new card, the ace of trumps. Alex was indeed a fine specimen of you, perhaps a year or two younger than I. His time working under the Ionian sun had tanned his body and he was one of those who could boast an all over tan. He smiled at me and said, “”Let’s walk.” One end of the beach rose away from the sea in a series of small undulating dunes. It was into this area that my new friend guided us. We passed a number of couples whose activities made them oblivious to our presence. “You’ll find nothing like this in England,” Alex giggled. “In our climate ?” I smirked. “It’d freeze the balls of a brass monkey so what would it do to an ordinary horny guy ?” “They say the warmer the climate the bigger the, you know what.” “Tell me then, so working here in the sunshine does it make it grow ?” We were fooling about like a couple of kids. “Yeah, before I came here I was a mere four inches and look at me now.” Believe me I was looking. “Perhaps I should come to live here myself,” I said. “That would be nice but in that department I would say you needed no further enhancement.” “Thanks.” We found a special place and sat down. There was some grass but mainly it was fine hot sand. A few trees, they could have been olive tress – I don’t know for certain – do olive tress grow in sand ? – gave a little shade from the hot morning sun. In those trees crickets chirped their song. It was a truly idyllic setting. Perfect. In every aspect of life I am a top, the one to take the initiative and the one to be in control. As we made our way into those dunes I was working away in my subconscious mind how I would open things with Alex, how I would offer some pretence at seduction. The thought of that wonderful backside now free and open to me in the warm morning air, soon to be mine for the taking sent adrenaline pumping throughout my body and my cock into a firm ready position. I was a little surprised, therefore, when Alex began to embrace me and kiss me with a deep, long throatal action. It was strangely different and good even if I should have been the one making the initial move. His hands began to caress me all over as he continued. I offered no resistance just placing my own palms on that delicious arse of his. Of course I was already aroused but Alex was heightening this with a fury. I was excited as I realised with a longing anticipation that which was to come. I have had sex with many a guy, of course I have, but always giving and never taking. This was going to be an entirely new experience for me. What would it be like ? Brilliant I knew. Adopting the pose of a submissive bottom I turned to present myself to Alex, to Alexander, to Alexander the Great. I felt him stroke my buttocks with his hands, run the head of his cock down the line delineating those two cheeks. I could feel the touch of precum as he did so followed by the magic of his finger tips exploring between them. There was a surge of pain and my body flinched as he inserted a single finger. Hell I knew penetration hurt but never before had I actually experienced it. That finger turned and widened the cavity soon to be joined by a second. Shit – it hurt like fuck. I smiled to myself and stifled a chuckle. Of course it hurt like fuck – fuck was what was happening ! I have described Alex to you a little but I haven’t told you so far anything of that all important aspect of his fine physique. Seven inches I guessed, and I am pretty good at guessing these things. Thick and uncut. Bloody hell I would soon be having all of that inside me and it was a whole lot more than the two fingers I was currently experiencing. His balls were similar to my own – quite large and while not tight against his body not hanging low. His pubes were thick and dark, the natural colour of his genes unlike the hair on his head with those lovely blonde hi-lites. “Take me Alex,” the thought turned into a whisper and then into a clearly audible desire. “Come on Alex, screw me senseless.” The pain factor rose and I snatched for breath as Alex withdrew his fingers but this was nothing to the raging agony when he inserted himself. I sweated tears as my virginity was broken and bit into my lip as more and more of him pushed deeper and deeper into me. Seven inches ? Fuck this was more like seventeen ! When would it stop ? Eventually I felt the comforting warmth of his pubic bush against my bottom. Yes ! There are, I guess, different types of pain. Pain which is a non-stop agony like a tooth ache shutting out all other senses as it gnaws away at you being. Pain which comes unexpectedly like a wasp sting and fires with agony just a specific part of your body. I never had the cane at school, it was going out of fashion when I was a child and ceased to be used when I reached adolescence but I have heard guys talk of the initial squirt of fire followed by an entire body pain which slowly subsides into a warm, sensuous glow. If you could withstand the initial stroke of rattan cane on your behind it got better thereafter, good even. That was just how it was for me that first time I was fucked. The pain never went away but as Alex began thrusting into me it changed its nature subtly into something quite phenomenal. My cries of hurt turned into cries of pleasure. That pleasure was doubled as Alex took my own cock in his right hand and began to wank me at the same time as he was fucking me. Double the pleasure ? No more than that, far more. He was skilled and knew precisely what he was doing, how to time things to perfection. Perfect to the point where we both came together. Destiny had dealt a hand containing not only the ace of trumps but with it also all the accompanying cards of high value. My head spun in a trance as my brain did all it could to cope with the erotic sensations my entire nervous system was rapidly sending to it. Never before had sex been quite so special. Eventually I lay back on the fine sand exhausted and managed to speak but a few words. “Great Alex, you’re fuckin’ Alexander the Great that’s who you are.” He laughed and lay his head on my chest. My fingers played through that black and white hair. Away and in front of us on the sea, across to our right, we heard the roar of a power boat start its engine. The tone increased to a scream and we saw a huge parachute rise into the blue sky above us. I sat up to watch and could pick out two figures suspended below the red and yellow canopy. “Fancy trying that ?” Alex asked. “Do I buggery !” “Come on where’s your spirit of adventure ? It’s only fifty Euro for the two of us, I saw the sign as I came in. Come along, my treat. We have time before Spiros and Mike get here.” “Nah !” “Go on they say it is better than sex.” “Impossible.” And so it was I let lose my hold on destiny for just a tiny moment of time and Alex and I, still both quite naked, were tightly strapped into a shoulder harness with a pole-like thing joining us into one. I was on the left with my new over-adventurous friend on the right. “I haven’t made a will,” I said, “but I want all my money to go to the Cats’ Protection League.” “Touching,” Alex teased. “Mine can go to Battersea Dogs Home.” “Have you done this before ?”
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