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Growing up on the Mediterranean island of Malta, was always an adventure.

Everywhere one looked, there was history, mystery, intrigue and medieval structures, dating back centuries, all against the backdrop of the blue Mediterranean Sea. There was always a secluded beach or cove, to escape to and engage in total relaxation, or if fancied, a very sexy encounter with your choice of companionship.

Long infamous for being the crossroads of civilisation, a stopover for the Templar Knights travelling to and from the Middle East, Malta, was also, very cosmopolitan, a melting pot of foreigners from all over the globe.

The building frenzy of the 90's and early to mid 2000's, saw a significant influx of construction workers from Asia, Latin America and of course, from neighbouring Italy and Greece. Others, came in from France, Spain, Portugal and even Lebanon.

Most of these imported construction workers were fairly young, from the mid 20's to the early 30's, in great shape and tanned from exposure to the sun.

In short, they were hot as hell, horned up from being away from their wives, girlfriends and assorted sexual partners. They worked hard and partied harder, as the saying goes.

Our family was a mix of British, Maltese, Italian and Spanish. Dad was a merchant marine, mom, a banker and yours truly, the only offspring.

While attending college in the UK, I would venture back to Malta on holidays, especially during the summer when there was a 2 and a half month break.

It was during the time I turned 19, that I received the news my parents had purchased a 5 room, 3 bath guest house, adjacent to our home, not far from one of the best beaches on Malta and about 20 minutes away from the hotels and resorts.

The property was remodeled and marketed to foreign labour workers that needed an affordable place to live over a 6 month period.

Because both parents worked, they hired a manager to oversee daily operations, including cleaning, providing fresh towels and changing the sheets at least twice a week.

I agreed to supplement the manager during the summer and handle the in room duties of towels and sheets.

Before long, all 5 rooms were rented out, all single occupancy. We had 2 workers from Italy, 1 from France, and 1 each from Brazil and Taiwan.

From early on, my parents knew I was gay and they were completely supportive. What they did not realise, was that, I had become prone to lusting after older blokes, especially foreigners.

My top favourites were the totally masculine men, that would never be thought of having any same sex encounters or relationships. Oh and yes, I preferred, uncut blokes...with nice, suckable cockheads and big, hairy balls.

Another big fetish from the start, was semen. I had grown addicted to cum. The look, smell, feel and taste of man milk would make me hard and wet all the time, no matter when and where. I needed cum, craved cum, could never have enough of it.

My own uncut, 8 inch cock, would get wet with precum within a few minutes of arousal and could easily be edged 3-4 times, before erupting in a torrent of hot, thick jizz.

No sooner than turning 18, I started hitting the local gay clubs, going on dates with mates and generally, learning all I could to really be good at sex and even, love making, which I found out was different than just getting your rocks off...

Given all these parameters, it did not take long to realise that I had stumbled onto a promising circumstance that, if I played my cards right, could eventually lead to some very interesting foreign relations activities.

I truly began looking forward to flying from London to Malta during the summer and also, during the December holidays, to help mom and pop with their lodging enterprise...and help myself to some high quality, imported meat and dairy products.

It was during the first summer, that I met Giancarlo, one of the 2 Italian boarders, staying for 6 months.

Giancarlo was tall, olive skinned, in shape, tanned and sported a hairy chest, stomach, legs and arms. I knew all this because he would only wear shorts when inside his room when I delivered fresh towels.

I too, had the habit of only wearing shorts when going into the rooms to replenish supplies.

One day, it was raining very hard and all the guys were inside their rooms, sleeping in.

It was early in the morning and I had only one room left, Giancarlo's.

Knocking on his door, I noticed he did not answer. Thinking he had gone out, I opened the door and proceeded to leave the towels on his dresser.

Then I looked over to his bed and saw him sleeping on his back...he was completely nude...and hard as fuck....

Not knowing what to do, I stood there frozen, unable to move. I then realised his cock was not only totally erect, but leaking copious amounts of preseminal fluid...yes, warm, thick precum, from his uncut dick.

It was then, I noticed too, his round, full, hairy balls. I watched as his chest and stomach, gently heaved as he breathed.

I felt my own cock swell inside my shorts...it began leaking precum and before l realised it, I began masturbating myself, releasing my dick out to the open.

My heart skipped a beat when he suddenly opened his eyes and saw me standing just a few feet from his bed, with my shorts around my ankles and jerking off with wild abandon.

Without saying a word, he got up and kissed me hard on the lips, with a hungry passion that made my head spin. His tongue found mine and wrestled with it for a good 5 minutes, as our bodies bonded together in the heat of the moment.

His kissing became urgent, lustful and deep, as I had never experienced before. I finally realised it was true what they said about Italian men, they are amongst the most sensual and amazingly erotic in the world.

Both breathing hard, with our cocks covered in precum, grinding against each other, I felt like we were fast approaching the point of no return.

Not wanting to take a chance his cum could be wasted, I led him back to his bed, where I sat with my back against the headboard.

Giancarlo then, stood up on top of the bed, with one foot on each side of me.

Placing both hands on the wall, he inserted his cock inside my mouth and I began a slow, deep blowjob, while I caressed his muscular, hairy legs, ass, chest and pecs.

He began moaning loudly as I picked up speed and fondled his full balls, I wanted to make him edge at least once. I was afraid the other guys could hear us, but after a while, neither one of us cared.

While sucking his cock, I began fisting my own erection and came close to losing my load twice.

Finally, Giancarlo could not hold back any longer. He confessed he had not had an ejaculation in over a week. That made me lose it.

I began sucking his cock like a hungry slut, jerked my cock even harder. Giancarlo started gyrating his hips, his ass, like he was fucking a whore's cunt...his body shook, his knees bucked, I felt his cock grown longer, harder, and then, it happened...

He blasted his week's worth of warm, sweet semen into my mouth, almost crying from the deep pleasure I had just provided him.

It was then I shot my own load all over his feet, as we both experienced a mind blowing orgasm, bought on by an unexpected encounter....an interbational 'good will' encounter, to further, 'foreign relations'..

Afterwards, we showered together, stayed in bed for the rest of the morning and enjoyed another cumblast for good measure.

It would turn out to be the first of several encounters between the Maltese host and the Italian construction worker from Salerno.