Dark chest fur peered alluringly over its rounded neckline. Over that he wore a black leather vest which was fastened with three chains. Well-worn jeans were covered by assless, black leather chaps and large, solid biker’s boots.
* * * * *
Phil ambled through the narrow streets of the small village. At this time of the year he liked to be comparatively near to where his family had their original home and Litochoro was as good as any of the similar villages in the vicinity.
He turned at the shout and returned the wave from a young man. He had already been there several days and had made a couple of casual friends to sit, talk and drink with. He would stay there a few days more and then move on, just like always.
He glanced up at the clear sky and bright sun. It was unseasonably warm. Although he had a jacket in case it turned cold, he was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Most of the young people were similarly clad, taking advantage of the warm snap. He smiled at the way the older generation kept their normal layers on, unimpressed by the temperate spell.
The sound of a motorbike’s rumble caught his attention as a Harley Davidson hog pulled up alongside him. He tried not to overtly ogle its rider. The male was sex-on-wheels. A broad-chested torso was emphasized by a tight, white vest. Dark chest fur peered alluringly over its rounded neckline. Over that he wore a black leather vest which was fastened with three chains. Well-worn jeans were covered by assless, black leather chaps and large, solid biker’s boots completed the ensemble. Next to this impressive male, Phil felt quite boyish.
“Hey, so who are you today?”
Phil grinned at the question. As the rider pulled off his helmet, raven-hued hair fell to his shoulders and his smile glinted, dark and feral, framed by his goatee.
“Philander, you?” he countered, grinning back.
“Viggo,” came the reply and both men laughed. Phil ran a hand through his thick, golden-brown hair, his dark eyes, so similar to Viggo’s, danced with the same amusement he could see in the biker’s. This had become a ritual whenever they met. The easy camaraderie warmed his heart.
“Nice weather,” Viggo continued, leaning back and squinting up at an almost cloudless, blue sky.
“Too nice for this time of year,” Phil replied.
“Don’t knock it, just take advantage when you can,” Viggo said, his eyes raking over Phil’s slender form. Phil was just a couple of inches shorter than his own just over six-foot frame, but the slighter body always made the difference seem so much more. He stretched, confident in his own raw masculinity, knowing that several sets of eyes were riveted by the movement. “Be honest, are you busy right now?” he queried.
Phil cocked his head to the left as he regarded Viggo levelly, considering his reply. Giving a smile he shook his head.
“No,” he said honestly. “I’m not.”
“Good,” Viggo grinned.
Phil watched as the bigger man eased sinuously off the bike and went to one of the storage boxes. Phil admired Viggo’s bikes, although he had never wanted to have one of his own. This one had red bodywork, the steel gleamed cleanly and the customized golden handlebars glinted brightly in the sunlight. Reacting instinctively, he caught the helmet tossed over to him and stared at it.
“Put it on and join me,” Viggo said slowly as if talking to a small child. He laughed at the scowl on Phil’s smooth-skinned face. He gave a victorious grin as the younger man slid the helmet into place. “You’ll need your jacket, too,” he added.
Staring at the small space in which he had to sit, Phil suddenly realized how close he and Viggo would be. Certain parts of him cheered at this revelation, however, common sense dictated he subdue any such wayward libido. Viggo was not a man to mess with and that kind of thought was ridiculous. He eased carefully behind the bigger man.
“Hold my waist,” Viggo directed. “You’re not used to this and it’ll be safer. When it gets a little rougher just slide your arms round tighter and lean into me. I’m a good rider. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Thanks,” Phil said. He was touched the other man was being so considerate. He liked Viggo’s company although the other man could be dark and melancholy on occasion. However, at the moment, it was Phil who had been somewhat down and Viggo was already making him feel much better.
The ride was exhilarating. Viggo eased them through the village and onto the open road, opening up the throttle to let Phil experience the speed and power of the machine. Then he turned off onto a less frequented road and finally onto what seemed little more than a footpath through some dense pine forest. Phil held tightly around Viggo’s trim waist, leaning against his back as the older man negotiated the rough terrain with practiced ease.
Finally Viggo slowed to a stop and Phil gingerly got off. His legs were a little shaky from the ride and he expected some ribbing from the bigger man, but Viggo just gave a smile.
“Stiff?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“A little,” Phil admitted. Certain parts that he was still trying to will into quiescence throbbed dangerously at the single word and Phil was grateful that Viggo was opening his other box and tugging out a backpack.
“This way,” Viggo said, marching forward.
Phil dutifully followed. After a minute or two he gave a gasp at the sight of the small pool that Viggo was leading him towards. The clearing was a perfect sun-trap, Phil noticing the increase in warmth as even the light wind vanished. It was quiet, serene and Phil felt the residue of tension leave his body.
“It’s beautiful,” he enthused.
“Very beautiful,” Viggo replied. However, the bigger man’s dark eyes were not on the pool, as Phil’s were. Instead they were focused on the younger man himself.
Entranced with the pool, Phil failed to notice Viggo’s predatory stare at him and it took another moment for him to realize Viggo was stripping. He started as he found himself staring at Viggo’s naked ass as the older man shoved his jeans down to his ankles. As deft fingers rapidly untied boots, Phil turned away and began to undress himself. He did not need to be asked. The pool silently begged to be swum in.
It took seconds to yank off his jacket, t-shirt and jeans. His briefs and socks joined the small pile and then he eyed up the best spot to get into the water. Not sure of its depth, he had no intention of diving or jumping.
As soon as he was naked, Viggo had angled himself to unobtrusively watch Phil. The younger man’s smooth, golden skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. His own furred skin was darker in hue. Viggo licked his lips. Phil was beautiful. It was a word Viggo had used carelessly many times in his varied past, but it was true of the youth before him. He let his eyes caress the naked form and then purposefully moved to where he knew he could dive in.
With a soft sigh of pleasure, Phil eased into the warm water. He sank slowly, immersing himself and treading water as he performed a slow pirouette. He glanced over at Viggo and then stared. The older man was standing on a rock, ready to dive in. His body was perfection, from the classically handsome face, to flat male breasts, down the muscular torso and six-pack abdomen to the well-defined thighs and calves. He could be a Greek statue brought to life. Only the dark body-hair served to remind that the body was living and breathing.
With consummate grace, Viggo dived. He was sure he had felt Phil’s eyes on him and he had purposely posed for an extra minute or two. His body arced through air and then into the water with a minimal splash. He knew roughly where Phil was treading water and with the grace of a sea-nymph he surfaced inches from the younger man with a broad grin on his darkly-handsome face.
“Nice move,” Phil said, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Thanks,” Viggo purred as he floated a short distance from the younger man.
“I never knew this was here,” Phil said. “It’s wonderful.”
“I had it made just for you,” Viggo said, his tone lightly sardonic.
“You are so full of s…” The rest of Phil’s laughing rejoinder was lost as a handful of water hit him squarely in the face. It was the opening salvo in a water battle that both men participated in wholeheartedly and neither could lose.
Finally the water-play eased as if by mutual consent and the two men swam for a while, relaxing and enjoying themselves. Viggo checked the progress of the sun and slipped from the water to stretch out on a sun-baked rock.
“Time to dry off before going back. Don’t want to lose the sun before we’re dry.”
“Sure.” Phil copied the older man and lounged on his own warm rock. He angled himself to be able to see Viggo’s naked body, feeling almost like a voyeur. The older man had stretched cat-like, full length on the rock. His legs were spread with his right knee drawn up and at right angles to the rest of his body. Phil found his eyes repeatedly drawn to the shadowed crevasse and then up towards where Viggo’s half-hard shaft lay on his left thigh.
With a soft groan of frustration, Phil rolled onto his stomach to squash his own burgeoning erection. It seemed that his body really liked the sight of the older man and that was something that was not a possibility. At all. He focused his mind on the warmth of the sun and his body began to relax once more.
All-too-soon, however, Viggo stood, stretched and ambled to the backpack. He pulled out a small towel, rubbing it quickly over his body and hair before he tossed it to Phil.
“It’s been a good day,” Viggo said as he dressed.
With a silent sigh, the younger man copied his actions.
“Yes. Yes it has,” he agreed. He was sorry it was coming to an end. He took his seat on the back of the bike for the ride back to the village. It seemed as if Viggo took longer to return and Phil absorbed every tactile memory of the closeness of the bigger man’s body to savour for when he was alone once more.
He was taken back to the same street where he had been picked up by Viggo that morning. He eased off the bike and replaced the helmet.
“If you’re not busy tomorrow, there’s somewhere else I could show you?” The question was casually posed and Viggo watched surreptitiously as Phil perked up.
“I’d like that,” Phil replied. “Where and what time?”
““Give me your address and I’ll be outside at eleven. I’ll even stand you lunch,” Viggo added with a feral grin.
Phil watched the older man vanish from his sight. He could scarcely wait for the next day.
He had expected a restless night, but Phil found he slept well. His dreams, however, had all seemed to revolve around Viggo. He had awoken with an erection. Something that was far from usual for him these days. He could not remember the last time it had happened and he stared at his shaft but the swelling remained, hot and hard against his toned abdomen.
As if experiencing it for the first time, he carded his fingers though the thatch of coarse dark-blond hair at his groin. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation against his fingertips. He gave a sigh as he felt how smooth, firm and hot his skin got as he hardened further. With just one finger, he started at the base of his shaft and ran it all the way up to the tip. Panting, he let his head fall back on his pillow. It felt as if the heat in his penis had transferred to his finger and then through the rest of his body. He knew it was his arm moving, his finger sliding up and down his erection, but in his mind his body was being controlled by his fantasy lover.
Every breath was audible in the room and Phil continued to play his finger up and down his shaft. His eyes opened and he stared mesmerized as his erection grew darker until the tip had flushed to a deep, intense burgundy. Pre-come was leaking steadily, dripping down the head. Swirling his finger around, he watched as more pulsed free to slide over the swollen head and groaned at the contrast of heat and cool. He ran his finger through his own juices, raised his finger to his mouth and lapped.
He laid spread out on the bed, one hand now clutched around an arousal so hard it was as if his whole body ached. He began to slide his hand slowly, taking his time, savoring the sensation. The slide of his hand sent shivers of sensation through him. He began to move faster. He needed to push himself over the edge. His whole body contorted with pleasure as Phil reached his crescendo. His back arched off the bed, only his feet and his head to anchor him. His come jetted out of his ecstatic organ, splashing his flushed chest as he crested with a soundless scream.
The only sound was Phil’s harsh breathing as he recovered from the intense orgasm. Slowly he stood and wandered into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and cleansed away the evidence of his passion. He raised his head, staring sightlessly upwards.
“Why him? Haven’t I suffered enough?” The questions were purely rhetorical. There was no answering voice. He shook his head. It had been quite a long time since he had last seen Viggo. Perhaps it was the separation. He would have to keep his wits about him, and his disobedient libido under strict control, when out with Viggo later that day.
The sound of Viggo’s motorbike was met with a wide smile by Phil. The older man looked no different, with a white t-shirt under his leather vest again and the same well-worn jeans and chaps. Phil, however, had opted to wear a soft, cotton shirt in a caramel colour. He had repeatedly told himself he was not trying to look good for the older man. However, he was sure he saw a glint of appreciation in Viggo’s dark eyes.
His smile widened as Viggo tossed him the helmet he had dangling from his arm with a grin of his own.
“Where are we going?” he asked as he caught the helmet.
“Surprise,” Viggo smirked. “Hold on tight and after an hour, shut your eyes and no peeking till I stop.”
“Tease,” Phil grumbled good-naturedly. He settled behind the older man and took a deep breath before gripping Viggo’s hips.
When the hour was up, Viggo reminded Phil about not looking and the younger man dutifully closed his eyes. He leant against the older man’s broad back, able to smell Viggo’s light, citrus-based cologne and something that was just the pure scent of the powerful male himself. Phil could feel himself react to Viggo’s proximity, but was certain he could get himself under control, or blame the throbbing of the powerful bike between his thighs.
When the bike slowed to a stop, Phil removed his helmet and gave a gasp of surprise and pleasure. He had felt them ascending. They were now part way up the mountain with a wonderful panoramic view of the countryside. It was perfect. Although much cooler, the sky was clear, the air clean and fresh and he had Viggo for company.
“Thank you,” he said, his tone sincere. “It’s beautiful.”
“Glad you like it,” Viggo said gruffly.
As Phil stood breathing in the crisp air, he did not see the look that passed across Viggo’s face as the older man stared at him. As he turned back to the older man, he gave an exclamation of surprise. A cloth had been lain out on which was a bottle of home-made wine, cheese, olives and fresh bread. Phil grinned; the smell of the bread was already making him hungry.
“I’m not serving you,” Viggo said. “Help yourself.”
The impromptu meal was eaten with equal relish by both men. Then they simply stretched out, side-by-side, to enjoy the tranquillity.
The unmistakable sound of an argument broke into Phil’s relaxed reverie and he gave a groan of frustration. Rolling onto his stomach he lifted his head enough to peer down and spied two men remonstrating with each other.
“I’ll take care of this,” Viggo growled menacingly.
“No, Viggo, please,” Phil tried to stop the older man, but his attempt to restrain the older man was easily shaken off.
“I didn’t bring you here for them to spoil your day,” Viggo rumbled. “Wait here.”
Even as he closed his eyes, Phil knew that Viggo had vanished from his side. Slowly he opened them to see the older man was already striding towards the bickering men. He stared as Viggo spoke to one and then the other. His eyes widened as he saw Viggo clasp tightly to each man’s shoulder and give them both a shake. Whatever he had said seemed to have done the trick. As Viggo unobtrusively vanished from their sides, the two men were embracing.
“Sorted,” Viggo said, his voice laden with satisfaction as he reappeared at Phil’s side. “Brothers arguing over something and nothing,” he added at Phil’s quizzical look.
“I half-expected you to knock their heads together, or referee the fight,” Phil ventured.
“I’m on holiday,” Viggo shrugged.
Phil could not stop the laugh that bubbled free. He was pleased to see Viggo offered a wide, lazy smile of his own.
Once again the day drew too swiftly to an end for Phil. He stowed away the helmet as Viggo remained perched astride the bike.
“I had a great day, thanks,” Phil said, smiling shyly.
“Me, too,” Viggo said. “I have things to arrange tomorrow, but how about dinner the evening after? I can come for you at six, drive you out to a little place I know. If you don’t have plans?”
Phil’s heart had sunk at the prospect of a day where he would not see Viggo, but the offer of an evening in his company was more than acceptable.
“Sure…I mean, no,” he sighed and took a deep breath. “No, I don’t have plans and sure I’d like to get together for a meal.”
‘That’s settled then,” Viggo crowed, his smile bright and wide. “Take care. See you at six the day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Phil inwardly cringed at the words that slipped free, but Viggo seemed not to have noticed and the younger man breathed a sigh of relief. The day without Viggo would be dull, but he had the day after to look forward to.
Snuggled comfortably against Viggo’s broad, leather-clad back, Phil indulged in some fantasies that had him almost squirming on his pillion seat. His eyes were shut, as Viggo had asked, as the older man wanted to surprise him. They seemed to have been travelling for a long time, but as it meant he could be this close to Viggo, Phil was not complaining.
“This is it,” Viggo said.
Looking at the picturesque taverna, Phil could be anywhere in Greece. Bougainvillea vines were evident, although the time of year was wrong for it to be blooming, but Phil could easily imagine how the red blooms would look when summer came. The whitewash on the wall looked newly applied and the wooden window framed and sills were dark and highly polished. It looked a place that was cared for by its proprietor.
He smiled shyly as Viggo indicated he should precede the older man. The inside of the restaurant looked as well cared for as the outside. There were just a few wooden tables set with blue-and-white checked cloths. Each table had a little vase with small fresh flowers in. Phil could only see one other couple in the taverna; an elderly couple that glanced up and smiled before returning to their meal.
A waiter swiftly appeared and led them to a table for two. He moved quickly away and reappeared with glasses and a jug of water and Phil admired his speed and dexterity.
“I can highly recommend the dolmades and the kleftico,” the waiter said. “But please, look at the menu before deciding.”
Phil opted for the dolmades, happily sharing them with Viggo who had chosen the avgolemono. The rice-stuffed vine leaves were perfectly spiced and the chicken and lemon soup that Viggo allowed Phil to sample was also well-cooked. They both chose the kleftico, the hearty lamb and vegetable dish accompanied by a traditional Greek salad and large pieces of freshly-baked bread. The waiter brought a jug of local retsina wine, which was every bit as good as the one Phil had shared with Viggo on the mountainside. As the waiter cleared away their plates Phil sat back with a replete sigh.
“That was excellent,” he said. “I just need the bathroom for a minute.”
The waiter discreetly indicated the direction and Phil noted the cleanliness of the tiny bathroom. On the way out he had to pass the wife of the other couple. He blushed as she gave him a smile and patted his cheek.