The Boy in the Striped Socks - 4. Surprises

I returned rather dejectedly to the flat. I moped for a while and then decided that as I’d been pretty lazy of late, apart from our activities in bed, I ought to get some exercise. I changed into my running gear and went for a five, or thereabout, miles run. On coming back I decided to luxuriate in a bath where I stayed until the water became quite cool. I got out, dried myself and then threw on an old pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a jumper. Looking at the clock I was surprised to see it was almost 8 and decided I should see if there was anything worth eating in the fridge or head to the local takeaway.

At that point the doorbell rang. It was very unusual for me to get callers; virtually all the people who did ring the bell were people I didn’t want to see. I thought about not answering, but it rang again and as I’d got my Converse on I decided to answer it on the basis that when I’d got rid of whoever it was I’d go to the takeaway.

I switched the outside light on before opening the door and on doing so was astounded to see Julian standing there. Beside him there was a suitcase with the pulling handle extended and on the top of which rested his left hand. It had been raining and he looked very wet; his hoodie was soaked and his skinny jeans clung to the front of his legs tighter than ever; his beanie was not now at a jaunty angle but pulled down over his hair onto his forehead. He was looking down at the ground. I said ‘Hi’ or ‘What the fuck’ or something like that and he looked up. There was no smile, but a look of concern, no, worry, no perhaps even verging on fear. His eyes seemed red rimmed, could he have been crying? Surely not I told myself as I urged him to come in. He did, but diffidently and now as he hefted the case over the front step I saw he also had on a backpack that looked to be pretty full.

I told him to follow me which he did, leaving the suitcase in the hall. We went into the living room with him following me. On getting there I turned and looked at him properly – he looked a mess, partly from the rain but I was sure that wasn’t all that had contributed to the wetness on his face. I told him to sit down and he took off the back pack before collapsing in a chair.

“Julian, what the fuck is the matter? Why are you here at this hour, not that I’m not pleased to see you, but….”

That drew a half smile from him as I waited for an answer. When it came it was a bombshell.

“I’ve been chucked out! Mum and Len gave me an hour to pack some stuff and lent me a suitcase so I could do so” he said bitterly.

“That’s fuckin’ awful! But why?”

“It’s probably easiest if I show you rather than explain.”

I was puzzled. Show me? What did he mean? Surely not his shaved pubes?

“I don’t follow, but okay.”

“You will when you see. Switch your laptop on and I’ll show you.”

“Okay. It’s in the kitchen though. Come through.”

We walked in there. I switched the laptop on and we moved a couple of chairs into a position round the table where we could both see the screen.

“You log on and go to Youtube and then I’ll……..” he tailed off.

I did as he’d asked and then handed him the mouse. He quickly brought up some videos of the Gay Pride March where we’d first met and I began to have a feeling what we might be about to view.

I wasn’t wrong, but neither was I fully prepared for what came on screen a couple of minutes into the vid. The camera picked out Julian and I coming towards it and lingered especially on him with his knee length striped socks and those oh so short shorts. It stayed with us as we passed and moved into a rear view which just happened to be one of those times when I’d had my fingers feeling up under the leg of those shorts.

The idea of making a flip remark briefly entered my mind and was very quickly discarded.

“So I presume they saw this, but…..?”

“Yeah, one of their friends saw it and told them they just had to see this film of their son. They were sat there waiting for me when I got home and showed it to me. Len said I was a queer, poofy little git and that he wasn’t having a rent boy living in the house. Mum was pretty upset and just kept agreeing with him. He went and got the suitcase and told me I’d got an hour to pack my stuff. I asked him where I was supposed to go; he said he didn’t care but perhaps that bloke would take me in and would probably pay me for my services!”

That wasn’t said just like that all in one go. There were several breaks along the way, but when he’d reached that point Julian broke and started crying, his shoulders heaving. I put my arm round him and tried to console him and eventually the crying ceased. I persuaded him to come back into the living room and I sat down in the armchair and got him to sit on the arm alongside me so he could, if he wished put his arm round my neck.

I was stunned that any parent could act in this way, but I guess it showed how lucky I had been to have supportive parents.

Once we were settled and he seemed to have recovered I said to him,

“But you don’t seem to have come straight here?”

“No, I couldn’t. I was gutted and lost and I didn’t know what to do. I was going to spend the night in a doorway or maybe at…….I don’t know where. But the rain came on and I got wetter and wetter and more and more lost and miserable. In the end I couldn’t think of anything else to do but come here. Can I stay the night, please Lance? Just the night; I’ll go in the morning and try to get a place in one of those Homeless kids’ projects.”

“Of course you can stay the night. You can stay forever if you want.”

He slid down the side of the chair to sit in my lap and I then appreciated how wet he was.

“First thing though is to get you out of those wet clothes and get you in a warm bath.”

I pushed him off me and went to start the bath running. He tailed after me and stood there as I undressed him, shivering as I did so. I wrapped a towel round him and tried to rub some warmth into him although I reckoned the shivering was as much shock as cold, but I didn’t want him getting ill.

When the bath was reasonably full I told him to get in and just sat on the luckily hardwood laundry box that was there. His shivering slowed and stopped as he warmed up. I studied him lying there and my thoughts were for once when looking at Julian, non-sexual. It might appear that fate had decided for me, but it was a decision I had been fast coming to. I wanted, no, I needed, Julian in my life for more than just a weekend. I’d hesitated to suggest it before because I knew that I was his first lover – yes, lover and was it right to push him to something for which he might not be ready?

The minutes passed in silence until he pushed himself upright. I grabbed another towel, motioned for him to get out of the bath and once he had done so proceeded to dry him. When he was dry I stripped off my own clothes and led him to the bedroom. We crawled under the duvet and held each other tight, me spooned into him. After a short while he pulled away and turned so he was facing me.

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

My heart soared.

“That you could stay forever? Yes – I’ve never meant anything more. I love you, Julian; I think I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you.”

“Oh, Lance – that’s how I’ve felt. These last weeks have been like magic, but I couldn’t believe you’d feel anything for me.”

Julian wrapped his arms round me, pulled me into a tight hug and we kissed. I’d never before experienced a kiss while crying. All I can say is that it felt good.

We both slept fitfully that night. In the morning I got up and left Julian in bed while I went to try and rustle up some breakfast. It felt cool in just a t-shirt and boxer briefs so after putting the kettle on I went back to don some jeans. He was just getting out of bed and looked so beautiful as he stretched that I was sorely tempted to jump back into bed, but we had things that needed to be sorted. While he was in the bathroom I made some toast and herbal tea. We sat at the kitchen table to eat and drink and also for a discussion of what needed to be done.

It was agreed that he wasn’t going to College today nor was I going to Uni. It was actually going to be rather difficult for him to get to his college from my flat as it involved at least two buses, but we agreed that if possible he ought to continue with the course. He mentioned that he did have a bicycle which was in a shed in the back garden of his former home. If he could get that he’d have transport. I asked him if he still had any clothes or other things he wanted at the house to which the answer was ‘yes’ but he’d been forced to hand over his key when he left. I suggested he call Becky and perhaps she could get them for him. A couple of phone conversations ensued as a result of which Becky, who was very upset over what had happened, came up with a plan. If we went over to the house around 1pm she’d meet us there on her lunch break and let Julian in to get what he wanted as she knew Len would be down the betting shop or in the pub at that time and their mum had an appointment at the hairdresser.

I booked a taxi and we went over taking back the case Julian had arrived with and taking one of mine for Julian to fill. Becky was waiting outside and was evidently very upset as she threw her arms round Julian and the two of them spent a tear filled couple of minutes together. That over she then threw her arms round me expressing her eternal gratitude for offering Julian a home. She let Julian into the house while I went round the back to get the bike. He evidently hadn’t ridden it for a while so I had to pump the tyres and hope he’d make it back to my place on it. By the time I’d done that Julian was back outside the house with the suitcase and his backpack. I’d already given him a spare key to the flat so he set off on the bike while I waited for another taxi. I actually got back to the flat a couple of minutes before him and he said the bike had ridden fine.

It was then time for further discussions. I told him that while I was happy for him to ride the bike to and from college I wasn’t happy at the thought of him riding to and from the pub where he worked in the evenings. He wasn’t happy about that because as he pointed out, that was his sole source of income. I suggested to him that now he would be living closer to the centre of the city perhaps he could find a similar job there and maybe one that he could do on just a Friday and Saturday. I pointed out to him that those would be the busy nights when pubs or restaurants would need most staff and with more customers around he might end up with more tips. That rather clinched it. After all we would now be together all the time so the weekends no longer needed to be sacrosanct – there was plenty of time for us to be together during the week.

I wasn’t really keen about him riding his bike to and from the college even though there were cycle lanes for a lot of the way. I did have an idea of how to solve that problem, but it would have to wait a couple of days.

Julian suggested that while we weren’t doing anything perhaps it would be a good idea to go into the city centre and see if any jobs were available. It did cross my mind that other things were possible to fill the afternoon, but although he now seemed very much back to normal after last night I wasn’t sure he was ready, plus his idea made good sense. Before we set out he called the manager of the pub where he had been working to let him know he wouldn’t be coming in again. I got the impression the guy wasn’t terribly happy but then Julian didn’t tell him the true reason why he was quitting.

Julian struck lucky on the fourth pub we tried. He was offered a job for Friday evenings from 6 to 12 and on Saturdays from 11 to 11. The job only paid minimum wage which for someone of his age was a pittance, but the manager did say that tips were divided between the staff and the pub didn’t take a cut which I knew happened in many places. His job would be mainly serving behind the bar and waiting tables, but he was told that he might get a chance to move into the kitchen when a vacancy arose. We decided to eat there and the food wasn’t bad even if nothing special. I’d also taken the opportunity while in the centre to buy some more towels and bedding.

Afterwards we went back to the flat. Julian told me that in future he would be cooking our evening meal as his contribution, which suited me fine as cooking and me simply didn’t get on that well. He also spent some time checking over the bike and took it out for a further test ride before declaring himself happy with it for the next day.

It had been an exhausting day so I suggested to him around 9 that we turn in. He let me use the bathroom first and when I’d finished I got into bed. He then went in the bathroom and I noticed he had his little shoulder bag with him, but I presumed that just contained his toilet things. Thus I wasn’t expecting to see when he emerged that he was wearing the knee length striped rainbow socks and those little shorts of Becky’s that he’d been wearing the first time we met.

“Fuck me!” I exclaimed on seeing them.

“Yes, please! But only if you fuck me first.” was his instant response.

“How did you get those? Does Becky know you’ve got them?”

“Know? She friggin’ gave them to me. Said if it wasn’t for her shorts we’d never have found each other!”

That wasn’t true, but it had definitely resulted in us being here together now.

“Come over here then and let me take them off.”

Julian came and lay down beside me. I proceeded to remove those socks slowly, paying special attention to his feet and toes before telling him to stand and equally slowly take down those shorts. Once we were naked we got back on the bed and then we didn’t fuck each other but took in in turns to make very slow, sensual and fulfilling love to each other.

On the Thursday I didn’t have any classes at Uni and so it gave me the opportunity to carry out my plan. After Julian had left for college I headed into the city and caught a train to London where after crossing the capital by tube I caught a train from Victoria down into Sussex, got off at my local station and took a taxi to home. My parents were back from their holiday but neither was in so I wrote a note explaining what I was about to do.

They had generously presented with a Mini on my 18^th birthday, but I’d seen little point in taking up to uni with me so it had stayed in the garage there. Now there was a lot of sense for having it on hand as it would mean I could drive Julian to college and probably organise to collect him most days. If I couldn’t collect him he’d have to struggle with busses, but I was sure he’d see that as a small price he was willing to pay. With autumn and then winter to come it was not really a good time to be riding a bike.

Inevitably I was held up on the M25 going round London and the M1 proved to be fairly congested. I stopped at one of the services so I could call Julian and warn him I was going to be late and also for a rest as I was definitely not used to driving either long distances or in heavy traffic. It was about six o’clock before I pulled into my allotted parking space at the flat. I went in to find Julian busy cooking, but happy to see me. I was anxious to see his reaction so asked if the cooking could be left to itself for five minutes or so. He made me wait for a couple while he did a few things and then said he was available. I took him outside and stood by the car.

“Alright Lance, what was so important you had to interrupt my cooking?”

“This.” I replied, leaning on the car.

The penny dropped slowly.

“Is this friggin’ yours? You really are a lucky fucker, aren’t you?”

I guess it did come as a big shock to him as it demonstrated the vast material gulf that existed between us. I took him back indoors and while he carried on with the cooking explained how I’d come to be given it during which there was much heading shaking and expressions of disbelief from him. However, he knew that my parents were well off and when I explained my reasons for bringing it up here now, he was clearly touched.

After that our life settled into pretty much of a pattern. I found I was getting up earlier in order to take him to college, but I used the extra time to start doing some jogging perhaps with a view to starting cross country running, which I had done while at school, again. Julian seemed happy with his course at the college and was also enjoying his job from which he did quite well with regard to tips. We also made a habit of going to our vegetarian restaurant in the city centre for lunch on Sundays and persuaded Becky to join us every two or three weeks.

We did have one interesting experience one Sunday after we’d come out of the restaurant. We came across this small group of youths going to the football ground for the match that afternoon. As was our custom we were walking along hand in hand. One of the group recognised Julian (he later told me that they’d been at the same school) and started yelling ‘Poofters’ at us. Julian dropped my hand and then amazed me by firstly drawing me close for a kiss while at the same time giving them the finger. I felt sure we would be attacked by them, but I think his outright bravado deterred them and they simply continued with verbal abuse.

Half term loomed and I suggested to Julian that we should go down to my parents place. He had to work on the Friday and Saturday but we could drive down on Sunday and be there for a few days before driving back on Thursday or even Friday morning. My parents had been asking when they could meet him for some weeks whenever we spoke on the phone or exchanged emails. I knew they’d make him welcome, but I could sense his reluctance especially because of what had happened with his mother. He was worried about clothes but I told him if he took a pair of the black trousers and a white shirt which was his barman’s uniform that would suffice if they decided we should go out for a meal somewhere posh - after all I would only be taking the same. Gentle persuasion won out in the end and he agreed to go.

Naturally in the run up to our visit Julian had been pestering me for information about my family. I showed him pictures of them and also of my brother Simon who was a year younger than me and at a university elsewhere. He though was spending his half term staying with his girlfriend. My father was a GP and mother had qualified as a solicitor originally working full time on conveyancing, but had now cut back to working just a couple of days a week. So, they were definitely well situated financially and we lived in pretty large non estate house in a nice village in a very pleasant part of Sussex, nestled between the South Downs and the sea. But my parents had both come from normal backgrounds – there was no history of family money, and what they had they had earned.

Our drive down on the Sunday was uneventful. Julian had been bothered about what he should wear but relaxed when I donned a pair of my fairly skinny blue jeans and a sweatshirt to go with my usual black Converse. He almost followed suit although he was wearing a sweater that, as usual with him, had a striped pattern of pink and black which he’d put with a pair of new pair of black skinny jeans he’d bought the previous weekend and his customary black hi top Converse. He had never been very far from our city and sat looking at the scenery for most of the trip. He was surprised at how nice the Home Counties were even at this time of year but fell silent when I turned off the main road, drove down a coup of minor roads and then through our village. Our house was on the outskirts and as I turned into the drive he let out an exclamation of disbelief when he caught his first glimpse of the house.

“You….live…..here?” he said with hardly concealed surprise.

“Well, I don’t live here, now.” was all I could come up with in reply.

His response was to hit me in the arm – fairly hard.

My parents must either have been looking out for us or heard the car crunch over the gravel on the drive as the front door was open and they were standing on the porch by the time we had got out of the car, stretched and extracted our cases and backpacks from the boot. As we walked towards them Julian dropped slightly behind me. My mother stepped forward, embraced and kissed me while my father shook my hand. I stepped to one side and performed the introductions. Mother greeted Julian exactly the same way she had me while my father shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder saying how good it was to meet him, adding ‘at last’ with a look in my direction. They ushered us in and we dropped our cases and backpacks in the hall before going into the lounge. I could see Julian was trying to take in the sheer size of the room. We stood there for a couple of minutes while Dad asked about the journey down. Mum then suggested that I take Julian upstairs and (very pointedly) show him our room while she finished getting a light lunch ready.

We went back into the hall and picked up our luggage. I led the way upstairs. When we were safely out of earshot, Julian said,

“Our room - I like that. They’re happy about us then?”

“I told you they were. Perhaps now you’ll believe me.”

I walked along the landing of the first floor, opened the door of our room, which used to be mine, and walked in. Even though the floor was carpeted I sensed Julian hadn’t followed me so I turned round and looked at him. He was standing in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Fuckin’ hell” breathed Julian as he took in the size of the room, the large double bed and the other furnishings. “Has this always been just your room?”

“It has since we moved here, when I was about ten. Before that Simon and I shared a bedroom.”

“Does that door lead to Simon’s room then?” asked Julian indicating with a nod the closed door in the right hand side wall.

“Not quite. Come and see.” I walked over and pushed the door open with Julian following close behind. I heard a sharp intake of breath and then,

“You’ve got your own fuckin’ private bathroom!”

He walked past me and into it.

“It’s not quite my own.” I said pointing at another door in the opposite wall. “This is a shared bathroom with Simon who has the bedroom on the other side.”

“Yeah, but…… you’ve got a bath and a shower.”

A little light lit up in his brain at that point and he turned to look at me with a big smile

“And that shower’s big enough for both of us to get in.”

“Indeed it is – and the bath has a Jacuzzi.”

“Oh boy, Lance. Why did you ever leave home?”

I grabbed him and kissed him. “If I hadn’t I’d never have met you.” I whispered into his ear while placing both hands on his delicious arse and pressing him tighter to me. Our hips started to grind together and our pricks rise in unison, but this just wasn’t the time. Lunch was waiting and there’d be plenty of time for fun before the holiday was over.

I broke our clinch and persuaded Julian we should freshen up and then go back down which he conceded made sense. Mum’s light lunch was of course a pretty full spread of cold dishes and salads which we sat down to eat in the kitchen cum breakfast room. I’d told her that Julian was vegetarian so she pointed out to him the vegetarian quiche and the spinach, feta and pine nut tartlets and vegetable samosas that were there.

“Actually, Mrs Pryce I’ve got a bit of a confession to make.”

What the hell is Julian going on about I wondered. Has he been misleading me?

“I hadn’t got round to telling Lance this yet, but my tutor at college had a long chat with me last week pointing out that it was going to be difficult for me to make a good chef if I didn’t know how either meat or fish should taste when cooked. Plus which there wouldn’t be many openings for a purely vegetarian chef. So I decided that from now on I’m going to eat fish although not meat.”

“Phew” said my mum. “That makes my life a lot easier as I’ve got virtually no vegetarian recipes I’m familiar with. Maybe though you could show me some while you’re here anyway?”

Good old Mum I thought. That really broke the ice and conversation started to flow fairly easily.

After we’d eaten Dad took the pair of us for a tour round the garden although there wasn’t much to see at this time of year and then we all went for a short walk down into the village and back. On our return Mum announced that dinner would be at 7 and that she would now be serving fish as the main course. She added that she guessed we might be tired after the journey as I wasn’t used to driving long distances, so perhaps we’d want to have a rest for a couple of hours. I’m sure there was a twinkle in her eye when she said that and Dad tried hard to turn a laugh into a cough. I knew I had their blessing and in her own way she was letting Julian know that she was happy for us to do whatever we wanted to do.

What I’d long wanted to do was take a shower with Julian. As soon as we were back in our room I started undressing but without saying anything, just giving him a grin as I started to strip off. He got the message and followed suit. For once I didn’t want to bother with undressing each other – the shower would provide all we needed in the way of foreplay. When we were both naked I took Julian’s hand and led him to the shower. I had been looking forward to doing this ever since he’d agreed to make this visit with me and I was determined to make it an enjoyable first experience for both of us. Once in the cubicle I got the water running to a pleasantly warm temperature and made sure both of us were nicely wet. I feared before we’d finished, my folk’s hot water supply would very possibly be drained, but I was determined we would take our time. I decided first to wash his hair, telling him that for now he was mine to clean and when that was done he could wash me. After washing his hair I commenced soaping his body from the shoulders down, first the front and then the back. I stopped at about waist level and squatting down had him place first one foot on my thigh and then the other as I washed his feet and gave each toe individual attention but trying not to tickle the soles too much. After that I worked my way up his legs from the ankles stopping on reaching his groin and having him turn round so I could wash his beautiful globes and ensure that his crack and hole were also fully clean. I turned him back to face me and now lathered over his stomach and down into his shaved pubes. Well before now his prick was erect standing at an angle of about 45 degrees from his body. Finally I washed that too paying particular attention to cleaning under the foreskin. When I was satisfied that he was fully clean I knelt down and began to lick and suck his prick which he was soon thrusting deep into my mouth with his hands dug into my shoulders. Before long I felt him stiffen and then I was almost overwhelmed with the cum that shot from him in long juddering bursts. Temporarily exhausted he slumped back against the wall of the cubicle. I stood up and he recovered sufficiently to pull me to him and try to taste any of his cum that might be left in my mouth.

After that it was Julian’s turn to demonstrate his skills on me – and he was definitely a quick learner. By the time he’d finished the water was indeed starting to get cool and I was beginning to wonder if our skin would turn crinkly as we seemed to have been in the shower for ever. So we emerged and taking a large bath towel from the heated towel rail I began to dry him. Before I’d finished he grabbed another and while I dried his lower half he dealt with my top, before swapping. When we both were happy with our efforts we went back into the bedroom and snuggled together under the duvet.

I was tired from the unaccustomed driving and did drop off to sleep. When I came to it was virtually dark. Julian was no longer in bed with me, but as I looked across the room I saw him silhouetted against the window and thought how lucky I was that he was mine. He must have heard me stir because he turned, walked back across the room, climbed on the bed, straddled me and launched into a lengthy kissing session. When we pulled apart I glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table – it was showing 6.30.

“Shit! Is that the time? We’d better get ready for dinner. Mum will expect to see us in about fifteen minutes.”

“Have I got to dress up?”

“No – it’s just us. I only got you to bring the ‘posh’ stuff in case we went out. The places my folks go rather frown on people wearing jeans.”

“Good, in that case……”

I knew what that meant and he pulled on a pair of multi striped boxer briefs followed by a pair of socks with thin red white and green stripes, that was followed by a long sleeved white fronted top that had black sleeves which he’d bought during the week and which I’d told him would look good on him. That was then followed by my favourite skinny grey jeans that always seemed to hug every contour as he fitted himself into them. I felt an urge to start taking them off him immediately, but managed to restrain myself – being late for dinner would not be a good thing.

I settled for the t-shirt with the striped heart at the front and a pair of skinny black jeans that were much less skinny than his. We were ready.

Dinner actually went well. Mum had prepared some delicious stuffed mushrooms as a starter which I suspect she may have intended to offer Julian as a main course. That was followed with a whole sea bass that she had stuffed with lime and dill butter and a crème fraiche based sauce again flavoured with dill. It was apparently a recipe she’d seen on TV recently and we all agreed it was delicious. To round off there was a passion fruit pavlova. We all ate our fill; I marvelled at how Julian was able to tuck food away and not burst out of those jeans. After dinner Dad suggested a game of Monopoly which I’d not played for years and I suspected Julian had never done. It passed a pleasant couple of hours until I considered it wasn’t unreasonable to suggest that it was time for us to head for our beds.

Naturally that wasn’t what we did once we got back to our room. Julian suggested that maybe we could try out the Jacuzzi, so we quickly stripped and did so without doing anything more than enjoy the sensations of being in it. While we were enjoying ourselves he asked about one item in the bathroom that evidently he’d never come across before so I explained to him the usefulness of a bidet – for both sexes. I was confident he’d be trying it out if not tonight, tomorrow. We again dried ourselves off and having done so he left me to clean my teeth and went back into the bedroom. When I emerged the bedroom was in darkness and then the light was switched on enabling me to see Julian standing by the side of the bed with the martinet in his hand!

“I didn’t know you’d packed that!”

The martinet had been returned to its old hiding place in my wardrobe a while back. Since Julian had moved in there had seemed little point in trying to hide it and I didn’t use it on him that often. What I had noticed though was that when I did he enjoyed me being, shall I say less tender when making love, or should I put it bluntly and just simply say, rougher. I was not averse to some variety so happily went along with it.

Julian put a finger in his mouth and looked down at the carpet before looking at me with a face that gave a good portrayal of a naughty boy waiting for punishment, apart from the fact that he was evidently hard and not trying to conceal it.

“I’ve been very naughty and didn’t tell you about what I’d decided at college. I know I deserve to be punished.”

He handed me the martinet and went to kneel on the bed. By the way he’d been standing and how he’d spoken I knew he wanted, for some reasons deep within him that I didn’t fully understand, for me to be quite severe with him tonight. Let’s just say that the whipping went on for several minutes until his arse was well covered in stripes and red marks where the knots had bitten in. I’d also worked down onto the tops of his legs as well as spread his cheeks so that the tongues of the martinet could attack those normally hidden and very sensitive areas. I must confess that very unusually doing this had made me hard and I was leaking pre-cum by the time I put down the martinet. I ran my hand gently across his cheeks and he moaned, or was it a whimper – I wasn’t sure. I pushed his legs further apart and felt underneath; as I suspected his cock which I knew had shrivelled while I was applying the martinet was coming back to life again. Satisfied I put a little saliva on my finger and just rubbed it over his hole before pressing my cock against it and going very quickly in. He groaned, but pushed back against me and in a trice I was deep inside him. Very rapidly we started to move in unison and I saw him stroking himself. I came quickly and substantially and was glad that we’d had the foresight to lay a bath towel over the duvet. I withdrew my prick, told Julian to roll onto his back and then climbed on top of him offering him the chance to lick my semen covered prick while I took over working on his with my mouth. Now instead of being rough I was gentle and teasing, bringing him to almost the point of orgasm and then letting him down until he pleaded with me to give him release. When we’d recovered we agreed that a quick shower was called for before we climbed under the duvet and snuggled up together.

The rest of the holiday passed all too quickly for our liking. We made full use of the bathroom facilities during our stay and the bedsprings took quite a hammering. We did have to dress up for dinner on two evenings as my parents took us to a local Italian restaurant one night and then to a rather classy pub come restaurant in the nearby coastal town on another. We’d decided to stay for the Thursday night and head back on Friday morning early so Julian would be in time for his evening shift at his pub and Mum had asked him to help her cook the meal that night. I could tell he was really pleased to be asked and it was amazing, or maybe not, how well he and my parents had got on. At home we saw few other people socially, but here I saw another side to him – the one which no doubt he displayed while serving bar and waiting on table and which I suspected brought him some good tips.

On the Tuesday we’d driven down to the coast and spent some time walking along the beach and promenade. Seeing the sea proved to be quite an experience for him which I had never considered as having been brought up so close to it we had regularly come down there in the summer. Julian said he could only recall twice being at the seaside. Once when he was very young they had spent a week at a holiday camp at Skeggie and when he was about 10 or 11 they’d had a week in a caravan at Mablethorpe. From his description neither seemed like they had been very enjoyable.

On Thursday morning Julian asked me if I knew where there was a good stationers or an art shop which puzzled me somewhat, but I duly took him to one where he bought a couple of sketch pads and some pencils and crayons. At his request we then went back to the coast. He got his phone out and took several pictures of the scenery, the beach, the sea and me. He went back to the car and got his pad and pencil and we walked to one of those shelters they have on promenades which of course was deserted at this time of year. We sat there and he proceeded to make some sketches which I thought were quite good. Eventually I had to ask him what had brought on this urge. He told me that he’d been quite keen on art at school at one time, but had felt forced to give it up because other kids had just seen it as further evidence of him being a poofter. He added that for the first time in years he felt happy enough and safe enough to want to start drawing and maybe painting again and it was all because of me. That teared me up and we had to have a long cuddling and kissing session.

We left about nine o’clock on Friday morning which I thought would give time for the commuter traffic to die down. Mum and Dad came out to see us off and it was hugs and kisses all round – although not really with Dad. Mum’s parting words were:

“You are coming for Christmas, aren’t you?”

To which Julian responded,

“Yes, of course, but I’ll expect a nut roast.”

I thought to myself if he carried on like that Mum might roast his nuts, but it was great to see how relaxed he’d become with them knowing that he’d been quite scared at the thought of meeting them.

As I started the car and turned out of the drive I said,

“You were sticking your neck out there, telling my Mum what she’s got to cook for you for Christmas dinner.”

Julian chuckled.

“Yeah, I dunno what came over me there. I’d never talk to my Mum like that. Your Mum & Dad are special Lance, real special. I’d never met them before; I was scared of doing so ‘cos I’m so different. I’m just a dumb kid from a council estate but they made me feel at home, like I belonged.”

When he’d said the last word I heard a sort of choking noise and on glancing sideways saw that he was crying. I stopped the car, undid my seatbelt and leant over to pull Julian into a hug.

“Julian, you may be from a council estate, but you aren’t dumb. You’re a very special person. I realised that when we first met and my parents saw it in you too. Now stop snivelling and give me a kiss!”

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and turned towards me with the trace of a smile starting to form around his mouth. He leant towards me and our lips met before we hugged. Fortunately it was a very quiet lane from our house into the village and no other vehicle came along while we stayed like that.

Once we got underway again I turned to him and said,

“By the way, did Mum tell you that we dress formally for Christmas dinner?”

“That’s alright. I can wear the same as I did when we went out this week.”

I thought he might as well know now rather than later,

“No, Julian. Formally here means a suit, shirt, tie and proper shoes.”

I could almost sense the colour drain from his face as that sunk in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. But I ain’t got any of them. I’ll call her when we get back and tell her I can’t come.”

“The hell you will. You’re coming and I’ll buy you the stuff to wear.”

That led to a lengthy discussion that never quite threatened to turn into an argument which lasted almost until we hit the M25 when I told him to can it so I could concentrate on the motorway traffic. He put the radio on instead and we had a musical accompaniment until we were onto the M1. When we stopped at the services for a break and a snack he started back on the subject again until I told him for about the fifteenth time that it simply wasn’t sensible for him to spend his money, when he didn’t have a lot in the first place, on clothes that he would rarely wear and that as it was only necessary to comply with my parents’ rules it was only right that I should bear the cost. He finally gave up, although I suspected that the discussion would break out again when it actually came to buying the clothes.

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