[Some of this story is true!]
In August 1964 I was hitchhiking up through Yugoslavia from Greece. It had been a long hot day with few lifts, and at lunchtime I found myself walking through a small dusty village. There was one shop, so I bought myself a cold drink, and continued through the village looking for somewhere to sit in the shade.
On the outskirts of the village was a large factory, which appeared deserted. I sat on the wall opposite in the shade of a tree and drank from my bottle of orange. At 1 o'clock a bell sounded and the factory doors opened. I couldn't believe my eyes!
Out of the doors walked about 25 young men. All of them were stripped to the waist and sweaty, and were dressed in what looked like loincloths. They were all so similar that they might have been clones -- dark hairy chests, short dark stubble, and black hair. Their skin was dusted with what looked like flour, and on their heads each of them was wearing a hat made out of newspaper to keep the dust off their hair and out of their eyes.
Beautiful muscles rippled in each of the similar bodies -- they were all quite slim, and showed the beginnings of a six-pack, nicely rounded pecs and biceps, and tempting bulges at their crotches.
They waved, smiling happily at this stranger, and I shouted my only words of Serbo-Croat, "Dobre dan!" [Good day!] To my great regret, they walked off into the distance.
When the sun had gone down a bit and it was a little cooler I stood outside the village for ages waiting for a lift. That part of Yugoslavia was very poor, and few of the locals had cars. Most of my lifts had been with Italian businessmen. I was just beginning to despair, and thinking about camping for the night, when an ancient lorry roared into sight. My thumb waved urgently. It stopped!
I ran to the passenger door, which opened on a sight that took my breath away -- one of the floury hunks, still in his loincloth and newspaper hat, still sweaty and dusted with flour. He moved his legs sideways and gestured for me to get in past him. I dumped my rucksack on the back shelf and slid into the middle of the long bench seat in the lorry. "Hvala," I said [Thank you], "Titograd?" (the name of the town I wanted to reach).
"Da," [Yes] the driver replied. I hadn't looked at him yet, as I was too taken with staring at the young hunk next to me. The driver seemed a much older man, wizened and grey (though probably only in his 40s). He drove with one hand on the wheel, looking sideways at me, occasionally (not often!) glancing at the road through the all-obscuring dust and swearing at the chickens and goats that sometimes appeared in the road.
The two men tried to converse with me, but I had already exhausted my meagre stock of Serbo-Croat phrases, and they didn't speak any English or German. I was totally wedged between them, and we settled down to a companionable, if very sweaty, silence. Fresh male-sweat is an incredible aphrodisiac for me, and my teenage cock was soon throbbing in my shorts.
After a while the older man said something to the younger, who glanced at me and said, "Ne" [No]. But he kept looking at me, and I noticed that his eyes were a beautiful deep brown. Again the driver said something to him, and this time the floury young man took my hand in his huge paw. I'd seen men throughout the Balkans wandering along holding hands -- it didn't seem to mean anything other than friendship -- but at the same time it made my cock pulse harder than ever.
I glanced sideways at this gorgeous man, and saw sweat glistening on the long dark hairs peeking out from his pits. My mouth watered and my cock leaked.
The older man repeated what he'd said earlier, and the young hunk looked round at me, and without letting go of my hand, ran his other hand up the inside of my bare right leg until his fingers reached the hem of my shorts. I whimpered, but (of course!) didn't make any attempt to stop him. A wet spot appeared on my shorts just where the pisshole was forced against the material. He noticed, and rubbed his thumb over that exact spot. I couldn't decide whether to groan, faint, or come!
He tugged the leg hole of my shorts so that I slid further down in the seat, giving him access to my sweaty balls (I didn't wear underwear in such hot conditions). He tickled my balls lightly. I nearly died of lust. He grinned.
Then action stepped up a notch, as he pulled my hand over his lap and closed my fingers round his totally hard, huge cock, imprisoned in his loincloth. He wriggled a bit, the waistband of his loincloth came loose, and he pushed it down to give me my first glimpse of his magnificent crotch. Totally straight, uncut, about 7 inches, not very fat, with a long droop of foreskin still covering the head even though he was completely erect. Below this sat two egg-sized balls, covered with wiry black hair. A drop of clear pre-cum was resting in the tip of his foreskin.
He grabbed my head and pulled me sideways until my mouth was just inches from his cockhead. The funky, musty, sexy smell of his crotch assailed my nose, and I breathed in as deeply as I could, feeling my own cock throb in sympathy. More force on the back of my head, and my mouth touched the bubble of pre-cum, which I slurped up eagerly. But he didn't stop, and carried on pushing my head down, so that all I could do was open my mouth and let his cock slide in (you can imagine how much I was resisting!)
After that there was no stopping me. If the whole Yugoslav army had been watching I would still have inhaled his cock like a drowning man. (Come to think of it, if the whole Yugoslav army had been watching, I might have hoped that they would all get turned on enough so that they'd want to fuck my face!) Up and down my lips slid, and each time the tip was in my mouth he leaked another drop of luscious pre-cum, which I avidly swallowed.
He was a fit young man, and had obviously not come for a couple of days, because after just a few minutes of this action he began to groan and thrust into my mouth, his cock swelling and the head forcing its way up through his foreskin. I licked round the smooth tasty tip of his cock each time my mouth raised up, making him moan loudly.
Then he held my head quite still, the tip of his cock just inside my mouth, grunted quietly, and spurted over and over again until my mouth was completely full of his tangy essence. I didn't lose a drop. When his orgasm subsided he withdrew his cock slowly from my lips and I swallowed eagerly -- it took several gulps to get it all down -- and relaxed back into my seat (or as relaxed as I could be with a hard-on that was threatening to burst out of my shorts!)
He grinned, ripped the zip of my shorts down, and fisted my cock hard, his big hand smashing into my balls on each down stroke. An agonized wail -- of pain and pleasure mixed -- came from my throat as each forceful stroke brought me closer and closer to explosion. Finally, just as his fist hammered my balls one more time, I yelled as I began to come.
The first shot hit the windscreen and slithered down. The second hit the fascia in front of me, and the rest pooled on his hand as it continued to slide up and down my cock. That wonderful sexy smell of fresh teenage cum filled the cab of the lorry, and I collapsed back, completely spent.
I had completely forgotten the driver, but looked round to see that he had his cock out of his trousers and had just come, too -- quite a good load. He reached round behind him and pulled out a towel, wiped his crotch and the windscreen with it and handed it to me. It was stiff and crusty, and had obviously been used for this purpose many times before. I cleaned myself up and passed it to the young man, but he was busy licking my hot spunk off his hand -- a much more satisfactory use for spunk than merely wiping it on a towel!
Then he put his arm round me and I snuggled into his sweaty smelly armpit while the truck roared and bumped through the night. I must have fallen asleep almost immediately, but before we got to Titograd some four hours later, we had another session -- slower this time, and smaller loads from both of us, just as satisfying.
It took me ages to brush all the white dust off my clothes ...