Instinctively, my hand slipped down to my trousers and I slowly began to undo the buckle to my belt, then unfastened the catch at the top of the trousers. It is amazing, but whenever I start to unwind the need to have a long leisurely wank becomes overpowering. I felt wonderfully relaxed, and smiled to myself as I felt a telltale stirring in my briefs. I watched the television for an hour or so, then switched it off and lay back on my bed. I clicked on the light to my room and closed the door behind me.
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I had thought at one stage of going off for a walk after dinner, but I was pretty tired so I changed my plans and headed back to my room, deciding that a bit of television and an earlyish night was about all I could cope with. Their meal was already well advanced, and they left the room before my main course arrived. They had obviously showered and changed too since their arrival, as both were now in fresh white t-shirts and jeans. I was pleased to see the two Spanish teenagers sitting across the room, and again we smiled at each other and I acknowledged them with a nod.
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I went down to eat at about 8, wearing an open-necked white shirt and dark trousers. The modern convenience of a shower was a welcome sight, however! I made use of it then and freshened up, changing into quite casual clothes before dinner. And yet the room retained much of the character of the original country house, with wooden panelling and high ceiling. It certainly was comfortable, with a large double bed and tasteful soft furnishings. He left me then, and I dropped my case on the bed and looked around the room. His neatly cut fair hair rested lightly on his white shirt collar. As he turned to take my tip I glanced briefly for a moment into a pair of deep blue eyes. By the time we got to my room, I had discovered that his name was Stephen, and that this was his gap year before going to university. As I followed him upstairs (there was no lift) my eyes rested on his inviting buttocks bobbing ahead of me, taut and youthful pressing through the black trousers that formed part of his uniform. I went through the formalities of signing on, and once the porter had returned he took me in turn up to my room. They headed off up the stairs, carrying their backpacks and following the very cute blond porter to their room. It turned out they were indeed Spanish, and that their names were Juan and Carlos. But I was really taken by their charm and naturalness, and even at this first encounter they smiled and we exchanged a few words.
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I wasn't sure from their accents if they were Italian or Spanish, but both had those dark good looks, curly hair and golden skin so characteristic of boys from southern Europe. certainly no older than that, and one of them looked really young. It was a hot day in late September, and the lads were both wearing t-shirts and shorts. The first thing that I noticed as I approached the hotel was the two young backpackers in the entrance foyer, signing in. That sounded ideal to me, but it was really the quiet and some good food that I was wanting.
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The hotel had seemed enticing in the weekend colour supplement, and advertised itself as of seventeenth-century origins, 'tastefully upgraded for modern comforts'.