Who knows? I thought to myself at the time. I might even begin to crave being the dominant one in our sex lives, and gain the same sort of thrill as h...e was enjoying, but from the opposite side of this fetish of his. Little did I realise how much of an understatement this thought would later prove to be.Anyway, back to the story... nuzzling up to his neck, I whispered in his ear, "you have such a small dick you know, baby. Look at it, with your tiny little balls. It's small enough when it's. You uncoil. You've been curled up on my lap, making yourself small. Now, without breaking the kiss you swing yourself around, until your back is against my chest. Your legs fall to either side of mine as I sit. We are wearing robes now. White terry-cloth. My hands ride over you as you rotate, and you arch as I let them pass down over you chest and midriff. Your neck is arched back so that we may continue kissing. You moan softly into my mouth.I untie your robe's belt and pull it open; now my. Forcing my whole palm on it, I slowly stick my hand in his pants. This surely got his attention quickly, for his eyes seemed to beam open and jumped a little. His stare glaring down on me as his face posed as a 'What are you doing' kind. I pulled away a little, my hand sitting on his small happy trail. "I don't you falling asleep on me just yet" saying so as I stare back at him. He didn't move, didn't reply. Instead he unbuttoned his pants. "Only a hand job. I'll still fall asleep though, but I. That summer he was invited by his aunt and uncle to join them in the South of France for the holidays. They owned an ancient stone villa on the outskirts of a village a few miles from Vence to which they escaped from the oppressive heat of the city for the last two weeks of July and the whole of August — all except his uncle who was only permitted two weeks holiday. For a country boy, even the rail journey from Paris to Cannes was exciting and in the taxi from the station he could hardly stop.