Just to remind you – David was 19 and he lived with his younger sister, a smothering mother and a rather authoritarian father in the apartment upstairs. He was about 5’ 8”, slightly built and his eyes, as I recall, were greyish-blue. He was a studious type, bright and articulate and he always had neat, gelled hair – except on the occasion when his mates dumped him, drunk, on my doorstep that night! But that’s the earlier story. This is a few months later.
In the meantime, David and I had become friends. After I gave him refuge on the night of his Birthday, he eventually wheedled out of me what had happened and that seemed to give him the courage to start confiding in me. First, if he passed through the car park when I was cleaning the car, he would hang around, just making conversation. Then he began dropping-in on me in the apartment whenever he could – often late in the evening on his way home from a night out. It was all quite platonic and ‘proper’ and I gave him coffee and we talked about all sorts of stuff. I effectively became a kind of unofficial counsellor for him.
One of the good things that seemed to have come from these chats was his increasing confidence and independence from his overbearing parents. After his Birthday, when he was out all night for the first time in his life (his parents never knew that he spent the night zonked-out out on my bed, thank goodness!) they questioned him less and less about his comings and goings and seemed to give him more freedom to be the young man that he was. And a gorgeous young man he was too! Every time he came around, I couldn’t stop from remembering my having to pull his trousers off his drunk and sleeping body; and his lovely tight black underpants (with the white trim and piping!) – and all the rest. But I digress……..
I suppose he must have known that I had grown quite fond of him but I couldn’t quite figure-out why he liked spending so much time with me until I got him onto the subject of sex one night. My suspicions proved right. He knew that I was gay right from the outset; so did his parents, because I had been fairly open about my erstwhile partner, now long gone, but it was only now that David admitted that he was gay too. Actually, the words he used were, “I think I might be gay.” Yeah, well! The trouble was he wasn’t sure because, although he had never had any interest in girls, his only ‘relationship’ was with this other lad, Gavin, who sounded to me pretty messed-up and who was driving David up the wall!
David was besotted with Gavin though. Gavin was ‘Mr Wonderful’, in every respect. He had been his best friend at school and they had spent a lot of time together, in class, at each other’s homes, in each other’s room’s, etc. They had “messed around”, as David so coyly put it, but had not “done anything serious”. The reason for that was not because of any reluctance on David’s part but because Gavin wasn’t sure. According to David, Gavin wasn’t sure about himself; he wasn’t sure what he was and he wasn’t sure what he wanted; in fact, although I had never met Gavin, from what David told me about him, there didn’t seem to me to be a whole lot Gavin was sure about! He wasn’t doing David any good, that’s for sure, but like a good counsellor, I didn’t say this to David. But I did encourage David to keep questioning what he was doing and whether it was getting him anywhere.
Eventually, David resolved to have it out (so to speak) with Gavin, once and for all, and to tell him that he had to make up his mind if he wanted to continue his relationship with David. If so, it was going to have to involve “doing sex properly”, as David so quaintly put it. David rang me on his mobile earlier in the evening to say he was going over to see Gavin (again) and that he expected tonight to be the dénouement and “can I come round later to tell you how it went?”.
“Of course,” I said.
By 11.30, I figured they were probably “doing sex properly”, to use David’s words, so I went to bed. The doorbell rang about 11.45 and I threw on my dressing-gown and answered the door to find David standing there, looking forlorn and with blood-shot eyes. I suspected he’d been crying.
At this point, I should mention that we had not been particularly tactile in our friendship up to now. Once the G-word had been discussed, David had taken to hugging me affectionately when I answered my front door to him but that was as far as it had gone. So I was a little taken by surprise when, as soon as the door was closed, he threw his arms around me and burst into tears!
“I’ve lost him!” he sobbed into my dressing-gown, “He’s gone for good now! What am I going to do?”
Now, I don’t wear pyjamas to bed and I’m ashamed to say that I already had a hard-on under my dressing-gown and I was desperate that he shouldn’t find out, so I managed to pull him away from me and I steered him into the bedroom, as the rest of the apartment was in darkness and the heating was off. I sat him on the bed, gave him a box of tissues and let him calm down enough to start telling me what had happened. Well yes, I knew what had happened but that’s what you do, don’t you, at times like this!
After he calmed down a bit and the tears began to dry up, I made coffee and we sat on the bed for nearly an hour, with poor David recounting (for the umpteenth time) every detail his life-story with Gavin, interrupted with bouts of tears and sobbing and more tissues, until, when he had just about exhausted his supply of tears, he said,
“Can I stay with you tonight? I can’t go home now and risk waking Mum & Dad. If they see me like this, what would I say?”
What could I say? After all that had passed between us and after what happened that night on his Birthday, I couldn’t turn him out now. I suppose, what I should have done is let him sleep on the couch but I somehow knew that he needed the physical comfort of a friend beside him tonight, not just a cold couch to doss-down on for the night. So I slipped discreetly back under the covers of the bed and just said, “OK”, patting the top of the duvet beside me.
I pretended not to look as he shyly turned his back to me, taking his shirt and trousers off and laying them over the chair. But even from the back, the view of his slim, young body and his blemish-free skin sent tingles of excitement through me. I saw his lovely pert bum, tonight clad in a rather jazzy pair of pink and yellow briefs, which he left on. As he climbed into bed on the other side, I found myself saying,
“Do you want to cuddle a while?” and I raised my arm as he quickly rolled across and snuggled up beside me, putting one arm around my middle and resting his head on my chest. His underpant-clad groin was pressed against my thigh and I had an erection again!
Slightly embarrassed that he might discover my erection, I rolled onto my side, facing away from him but still holding him to me. His arm was still clutched around my middle but his face was now buried in the back of my neck and his bulge (which I was rather aware of by this time) was pressing against the cheeks of my backside.
This seemed fine for a while and I thought he was settling-down to doze. But then I felt his arm move and his hand start to stroke my chest, softly and gently at first, exploring and discovering my nipple. I didn’t want his hand ‘wandering’ any further, so I took hold of it with my own and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Unfortunately, I think he must have taken that as a signal to go further because his hand now pulled away and began ‘wandering’ down across my stomach. As he did so, I felt his hand brush against my erect organ, unconstrained beneath the duvet. Needless to say, my heart was racing, surely loud enough for him to hear it! His hand came to rest on my erect and sensitive penis and he closed his fingers around it softly. I tried not to twitch but, you know how it is, you can’t help it; an involuntary spasm occurred in my groin that manifested itself in a twitch in my member – followed by that familiar feeling of a drop of pre-cum oozing from my tool.
Part of me wanted to stop him now, before it went any further, but I’m sorry to say that I was so excited by this gorgeous young man pressed tightly up against me and with his hand around my organ that I just lay there, allowing him to make the next move. Which he did.
He then began slowly masturbating me, using my own pre-cum as a lube. I’m uncut, and he was gently pulling my foreskin up and down over the moist head of my erect organ and this just encouraged more pre-cum to flow. His fingers seemed to be almost lovingly massaging the now swollen and moist head of my tool. I was so highly aroused by all this – and him especially – that I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold it. It was just too exciting. Plus, I hadn’t had sex or masturbated in the last three days!
Before I knew it, I felt that familiar aching feeling in my balls; his continued motions up and down with my foreskin and around and around with my penis-head, so firmly and yet so gently, soon elicited the inevitable result – and I came. As I climaxed, I gasped in relief as my jism erupted though my tool and onto the bed-sheets. He soon realised what was happening under the bed-clothes and the motions of his hand became more sweeping; his fingers clasped and enveloped the head of my penis, as I shot 3 or 4 more loads of my sperm into his eager hand and fingers. I was in agony and ecstasy at the same time, as my spasms continued until they subsided in his hand. It was then that he kissed me – on the back of the neck – as we lay there. I was just breathing heavily, catching my breath, as I hugged him closer to me, as an unspoken acknowledgement of affection for what he had just done. I thought that would be it.
Quietly, he murmured my name and then said,
“Will you let me do it to you?” He said the words with a kind of soft pleading in his voice and I could feel his own erection bulging in his underpants, pressed hard against my buttocks.
“Don’t you want to keep that for someone special?” was all I could think to say.
He said, “But you are someone special,” and I breathed-in a deep breath of resignation, as I turned on the light and rolled over to look him in the face. His lovely blue-grey eyes were still sad and blood-shot from all his crying earlier but his face just looked like a poor little puppy that wanted to be loved. I couldn’t help it. I put my hand out, pulled his face to me and kissed him warmly on the lips. Such full, soft, luscious and delicious lips.
I thought that, possibly, I might have shocked him; but no. He simply copied my move and put his hand behind my head, as we both melted into each other in such a loving kiss that, to me, tasted like sweet honey! My mind raced as I thought of all the unwritten rules I had just broken and I realised what thin ice I was on. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he ended-up being hurt even more by what I had just done but somehow I must have known that he was old enough and sensible enough and that it was all going to be alright.
As he took his underpants off, I reached over to the cabinet and got a condom from the drawer. I gave it to him and said,
“I suppose you know what to do with this?”
He looked at me with a sort of sheepish grin that spoke of naughtiness and guilt. He took it from me and began opening it, as I rolled onto my front with a pillow under me. I reached out and passed him the lube, as I felt him climb over, astride and behind me.
I guess it was because it was his first time doing this that he was a bit frantic at first and I had to calm him down.
“Take it slowly - gently. I’m not going anywhere!” I assured him, as he nervously prodded around for his entry. I reached behind myself with one hand and took hold of his rock-hard erection, now clad in its cover, all slippery with lube, and I guided it to its destination. He pushed into me – a bit too hard and a bit too far really – and I gasped in pain as his tool crashed my outer and inner sphincters almost simultaneously.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he said, “Did I do it wrong?”
I reassured him, “No. No, it’s alright; just hold there a while and let me relax.” Good as gold, he waited for me to signal that he could carry on.
Once he began thrusting in and out of me, it didn’t take him long. His motion quickly became urgent, as I felt his solid manhood pushing up, deeply into my insides. I had cum already less than half-an-hour ago and yet the excitement of feeling him slapping his groin against my buttocks, his arms astride my body and his organ inside me was getting me aroused again. He didn’t realise it but his hard tool was also rubbing back and forth across my prostate and it was driving me towards another orgasm.
Within just a minute or two, his thrusting became more desperate and forceful. He started moaning and whimpering, as he made lunge after lunge, hard into me. All the pent-up emotions and frustrations of his last year now came surging out of him and into me. I felt his organ throbbing and pulsing inside of me, as he shouted out his relief and then collapsed against my back with his arms clasped tightly around my chest, his face buried in the nape of my neck. He was crying again, sobbing his heart out, and I realised at that moment that at the height of his climax, he had been imagining that he was at last fulfilling his wish to make love to his beloved Gavin.
He had slipped out of me by this time and I let him sob against my neck for a moment or two, his tears and dribble running down the side of my neck and cheek. Then I moved around and turned over. With the deftness of experience, I quickly disposed of the condom from his now softening tool and as I lay back down, he fell onto me, hugging me and murmuring,
“I’m sorry; I’m so sorry,” as I gently stroked his hair and comforted him. He knew that I knew – and that I understood. We both drifted-off to sleep in each other’s arms.
I need not have worried about him. It was me that probably got hurt because we never made love again, although we became even firmer, deeper friends than before. He still called around for late night chats but we never talked about that night and soon our conversations would include tales of his latest conquests and then his new “boyfriend”, who he of course brought around to me to approve! It’s sad really, isn’t it - but in a nice kind of way!
