Weekend in Kyiv (Part Two)

I watched the firm white globes of Sascha's youthful backside vanish through the beaded curtain, then stretched long and slow, still basking in the afterglow of the most intense orgasm of my life. This was turning into quite some weekend! With a burst of energy, I got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom. As I suspected, the door was open, and I could see Sascha's slim bronzed figure, humming brightly to himself as he ran the water over his muscular body. For a moment I just stood silently admiring every inch of that glorious body and watching as the water ran down his front, along the gracefully curving length of his cock and off the end.

In mock horror, Sascha quickly covered his manhood as he caught sight of me in the doorway. "Oh no! Go away! You nasty rude Englishman!"

I chuckled as I strolled over to the toilet and began to pee, enjoying the sensation of being watched, and remembered with a smile our opposite roles of the previous evening. "There's no escape!" I teased, "You're at my mercy now". I gave my dick a final shake, then flushed the toilet and moved over to the bath. I squeezed some shower gel into my hand and began to rub it to a lather on Sascha's back, massaging his golden shoulders slowly but firmly, then working my way down his back towards the tan line. Tentatively, I let one finger slide into the crack of his behind. I could feel him tense as he let out a gentle sigh.

"No, please, Andy," he said, half scolding, half regretful, "I have something special planned for today."

Reluctantly I turned away and busied myself at the sink, watching in the mirror as Sascha finished showering and towelled himself dry. What surprises had he in store for me today, I wondered.


Sascha patted me playfully on the butt as he headed for the door. "Don't be long," he said, "I'm making breakfast."

By the time I'd finished shaving and went through to get dressed, Sascha was already busy in the kitchen. The September sun was already warm and promising a glorious day, so I selected a pair of baggy shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, then headed for the kitchen. To my surprise and delight, I saw Sascha was still naked as he busied himself placing bread, cheese and sausage on the table in the corner.

"Good morning, my English friend!" He smiled. "What do you like for breakfast?"

"Need you ask?" I smiled in return, reaching for the Ukrainian meat and two veg between his legs.

"Naughty boy!" he scolded. "You'll ruin your apetite! Now sit down and eat."

I did as he said, watching with fascination as he moved about the kitchen making coffee for us both, then sat down across the table from me. I couldn't resist rubbing my leg against his, and he made no attempt to move away.

"I guess this means you're gay, then." I observed.

Sascha shrugged "I been with lots of girls, but maybe, yes."

"Ira?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

"Oh no," he smiled. "She my best friend, but we never make love."

Somehow I was strangely relieved. "And men?" I asked.

Sascha paused for a moment. "My friend Sergei," he said "We do many crazy things."

"Sergei?"

"You know, I tell you, he share my flat when we were students."

"Oh yes, I remember. So why'd he move out?"

"Oh, he get married." Sascha smiled. "Him and Ira - I very pleased."

Well, talk about happy families, I thought.

"So, what are these great plans of yours for the day?" I asked.

"Ah, that would be to tell!" he returned. "But I think you like it."

When we finished eating, Sascha went to get dressed while I quickly washed the dishes. He reappeared looking totally stunning in knee length white shorts and a loose blue and white vest, which highlighted the blue of his eyes while also maximising the effect of his tan. A pair of very trendy dark sun glasses completed the emsemble, resting casually atop his golden-brown hair. Not for the first time, I marvelled at my incredible good fortune.

"Okay; we go!"