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    Sam Wyer
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Cal - 6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the slight delay, I was away, here's the next chapter.

Tuesday kind of drifted by in a similar but less stressful version of Monday. I didn’t really do anything, and enjoyed doing it. Davey came home pretty early, and I’ve got to say it’s quite fucking nice having someone excited to see you. Wednesday morning, Davey said that he’ll be late home, and that he will usually be late on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

“Why? What happens on a Wednesday and Thursday?”

“I have class. I’ll be home by 8.00pm though.”

“Class?”

“Yes, I teach a Tai Chi class on a Wednesday, and I go to my own class on a Thursday.”

“Tai Chi? Isn’t that where you stand about in the park?”

I’ve seen this on TV and stuff, I’m sure that’s all they do.

“Yeah, kind of, but it’s not all like Helen Daniels - it’s a serious discipline.”

“Who the fuck is Helen Daniels?”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re too young. But yes, there is some ‘standing about in the park’ stuff, but there’s also combat ‘stuff’ - it’s hard work.”

“And you teach this?”

“Yeah, I teach an intermediate class. I like it, keeps me balanced.”

“And then you have to go to your own class as well?”

“It’s not like something you ever really finish, so yes, I’m always learning.”

“OK then.”

It sounded kind of strange. I was surprised that he’d not mentioned this before, but then, I have only actually known him for like a week or something.

“Do you want to come?”

“Always - oh, to the class, erm… no it’s OK, I don’t think it’s my kind of thing. I’ll meet you later.”

But what’s my kind of thing? I really didn’t know. Thursday and Friday passed without any significant events. Well, there was lots of events. We were fucking every night, and some mornings, and then some more - and I was still incredibly horny. But then on Friday, something happened. I got letters, two to be precise.

“What’s this?” I asked, somewhat stupidly.

“I can’t be certain, but they look like letters to me.”

OK, so I probably deserved the sarcasm.

“But no-one knows I live here.”

“I do” said Davey.

I gave him a look that said ‘fuck you’, in a nice way, obviously.

“So here’s the thing” Davey said.

I get nervous when there’s a ‘thing’.

“Please don’t get mad, but I’ve done something.”

Telling me not to get mad is like telling a mountain to not be big, it’s somewhat outside of my direct control.

“What?”

“Well I thought that you probably want to feel a bit more independent than you do with me having to give you cash whenever you need stuff. So I’ve ordered bank cards for you. But there’s paperwork to fill in, and I guess that’s what’s in the post.”

“No Davey, that’s not right. I hate taking your money as it is.”

“Yes, I know. But until you get something sorted, I thought that it might help.”

And I guess it kind of would help. I still fucking hated it though. Not the gesture, it’s sweet of Davey to care so much, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m spending someone else’s money. Of course I signed the forms anyway, but I really did feel bad.

“So I thought we might go out tonight, maybe meet up with the guys?” Davey said.

“The guys?” I said. “I don’t think anyone really says that you know.”

“Anyway, I thought it might be good to meet them again, hopefully in a less intense moment than before.”

Yeah, I didn’t need reminding. Both that first night, and at the party last weekend, things have always been tense, mostly caused by me. Fine, maybe always caused by me.

“Yeah, OK, cool.”

I tried to sound neutral.

“Cool? Now I know for a fact that no-one says ‘cool’ any more.”

I managed to shut him up by giving him a kiss, which usually seemed to do the trick. Davey went off to work, and as was now habitual, I hung out with Scarlett in an uneasy kind of truce until Jen arrived. There was no denying it, we were perhaps becoming slightly more friendly towards each other. I mean with Scarlett, obviously. But my mind was elsewhere. What was I going to do. I don’t see my future being a stay-at-home house boy. I mean, I’m already fucking bored with that. And I need to earn money. You probably won’t be too fucking surprised to know that school wasn’t a big part of my life - I left with exactly one GCSE. OK, technically two. I have a ‘A’ in maths, and an ‘E’ in English Literature. To be fair, they were the only exams I turned up to - so my pass rate was 100%. I was pretty fucked off about both of the grades though. I loved English, but clearly hadn’t done enough - OK, any - revision, so I couldn’t write essays about shit like you have to. And Maths, I should totally have got an ‘A*’, but whatever. I still remember the look on my Maths teacher’s face when I turned up to his class - a mix of shock and fear. The fact that he didn’t really like me just made it more enjoyable. But I can do maths. For the most part, it was easy. Not that I have *ever* needed to solve a fucking quadratic equation, do anything with natural logarithms, or calculate some fucking random angle from an arc and a line. But I could. On the other hand, I do know that a 5% cut of £27,500 is £1375 - which has come in more useful. Anyway, I was mentally going through options of how I could earn money without doing anything illegal when Jen arrived.

“Hey Cal, how are you this morning?”

She was always so fucking nice. And cheerful. How are people so cheerful all the time?

“Hi Jen, I’m good thanks.”

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“I dunno, Davey said we might go out to see ‘the guys’ tonight.”

“Oh, but you don’t want to?”

I swear she can read my mind sometimes.

“It’s not that, it’s just, I always seem to mess it up somehow.”

Damn her, why do I talk to her like this? She doesn’t need to know every tiny fucking thing, but it just comes out.

“Well maybe you should stop trying so hard Cal.”

Jen was already busy tidying things away.

“What do you mean? They’re Davey’s best friends, they have to like me.”

“OK, well, firstly, no they don’t. Although I think they probably will do as soon as you let them. And secondly… no, actually, that’s all.”

As usual, her tone was just on the edge of being amused by something I didn’t yet know. I swear, if she played the lottery she would be loaded. But whatever.

“Jen - I don’t even know what that means.”

“It’s really simple. People will like you because you are you, not because you are with Davey. You’re a really smart guy with some amazing qualities - but you work so hard at keeping people out that hardly anyone gets to see the real you.”

I looked away, I kinda knew somewhere that she was pretty much fucking right. Well, about the keeping people away bit.

“Look” she continued, “I don’t pretend to know what goes on inside that head of yours, or how you’ve come to be the person you are. And sure, it might feel a bit scary. But you’ve got to allow people a little closer so that they can really get to know you - if that’s what you want. And Davey’s friends, they’re all good people. They’re not here to take advantage or hurt you.”

“But I don’t do it on purpose” I protested, somewhat weekly. I’m not sure even I believed it.

“Maybe not always, I’ll give you that. But you choose how you look, and more importantly, how you behave.”

“What do you mean ‘how I behave’?”

Feeling accused of something, I was getting defensive, and kinda prickly. Jen temporarily stopped what she was doing to face me directly.

“That, that’s what I mean. You have choices Cal, always. And probably the last choice left, even when there doesn’t seem to be any options available, is how to approach the situation. And that includes how you behave.”

“Are you always so fucking right?”

Immediately regretting my language, I was slightly surprised by the moment.

“Sorry - for swearing.”

In a very Jen like way, she just smiled at me, and carried on with whatever she was doing at the time. I didn’t go out with Jen and Scarlett as I had been doing, deciding that a run would probably help me more. I had to try and make sense of this. On one hand, I can see that Jen is totally right. I mean, it’s pretty fucking simple isn’t it? I’m a nice guy, if I let people see that, then they’ll probably like me, and I’ll feel better. At least, I think that’s what she was saying. Whatever, she seems to like me. But I can’t be like I am with Jen with everyone. No way. But I could be a bit more like it maybe? I dunno, this is all fucking weird and new. And I know what’ll happen, I’ll be all ‘real’, and then some fucker will come along and take advantage - spotting the weaknesses and doing me over totally. Well, that’s definitely what would have happened. But these are nice people. Davey has actual friends, not just people who call each other friends but would fucking kill each other if it was going to help them somehow. No, it’s not like it used to be. What’s that quote, ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’. Something about that amused me - most people would worry about moving from their nice cosy safe world and living like me, at least, how I used to. But for me, it’s just as fucking hard doing it the other way round.

I decided that I really needed a long, slow and steady one - the run, jesus - where’s you’re head at? I was out for a few hours, and Jen was gone by the time I got back home. That’s still weird too. Home. It’s only been a week. Scarlet was snoozing, which she seems to spend quite a lot of time doing, so I got a shower and started to pick out clothes for meeting Davey and then going out. My mind was drifting a little, and I remembered a conversation I had in prison. One of the officers once said to me that I could be the ‘worst kind’ of criminal, because I could probably charm my way into, and then out of any situation if I wanted to. I think he fancied me, thank fuck he didn’t try anything. But I remember thinking at the time that my Mum used to say something similar. Not that I was the ‘worst kind of criminal’, but that I could probably get away with anything if I smiled sweetly. I wiped away the tear that was forming with my arm, pleased that I was alone and no-one had seen. I fucking hate that woman, but I love her as well, she’s my Mum. Can you do that? Love and hate the same person at the same time?

Having wasted enough time with that, I set off to meet Davey. I got to his office just before 5.00pm, and paused just slightly before walking in. Not sure I want to go in there again. But it looked like rain, so what else am I going to do? Vicky was at Reception, so I headed over to her.

“Hello Mr Richardson.”

You know, it’s fucking funny having someone call me Mr Richardson like that. Like I’m some kind of proper person.

“Hi Vicky. My name’s Cal. Not Mr Richardson. I mean, I *am* Mr Richardson, but you can just call me Cal.”

“OK then, *Mr Richardson*, I’ll bear that in mind.” She allowed herself a small laugh. “If you take the lift up to the ninth floor, Mr Carter is in his office.”

“And where’s that?”

“The ninth floor.”

“What, all of it?”

“Yes.” And there’s that smile again.

OK then. Who has a office that takes up an entire floor? I got in the lift and pressed the button. Thankfully it didn’t stop anywhere else on the way up, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a problem. The doors opened and I stepped out in to another small waiting area. The doors hadn’t closed behind me before the Man/boy Mincer was in my face.

“Good afternoon Mr Richardson, what can I do for you today?”

“Hi Nihal.” I honestly didn’t mean to, but I think I probably spoke with a sigh, much like he did all the fucking time. He possibly thought I was taking the piss, and maybe I was.

“I’m here for Davey, obviously.”

“Very good Mr Richardson, I’ll just see if he’s available for visitors.”

That fucking man, how does he not get punched? I could see in to a large glass walled meeting room, and the only doors were a large double set which was where Nihal was heading towards so I guessed that Davey’s office was that way. I followed and stood a little behind him as he opened one of the doors and stepped just inside.

“Mr Carter, you have a visitor waiting for you, are you available?”

As Davey looked up to reply to Nihal, our eyes met, and I saw that smile of his immediately appear. I’m still not really expecting it to happen - people are never that excited to see me. Often the opposite actually.

“Nihal, as you well know, Mr Richardson is not a visitor. Now go home, I’ll see you on Monday.”

Nihal went back to his desk outside, and I walked in to Davey’s office with the door closing behind me.

“Fucking hell Davey, this place is massive.”

I was looking around, taking in the luxurious authority that you find in those kinds of rooms. So I wasn’t expecting it as Davey pinned me against the back of his door, kissing me like we’d not seen each other for years.

“Are you pleased to see me or something?” I said, as I grabbed his arse. I could feel his cock pressing against me.

“You look amazing Cal, is that new?” I was wearing light blue t-shirt that I knew was really just a tiny bit too small for me, which was why I bought it, and some closely fitted jeans which made my arse look great.

“Well thank you Mr Carter.” I said, now feeling his arse with both hands.

“Are you going out in a suit?”

“No, I just need to get changed.”

And there it was, the look. I loved that look. I guess that really I knew that in that moment, I could probably get anything I wanted from Davey. Maybe that’s what my Mum and that prison officer had meant. Davey reached behind me, and I heard the sound of a lock being turned. Now I was getting excited, are we going to fuck in his office? Oh man, that is such a fucking horny idea. I felt myself being lifted up and carried away from the door. Past his giant desk - which I was totally imagining with me laying across it as Davey fucked me. But we didn’t stop there, through another doorway, and into a private bathroom and dressing area. Davey sat me in a chair, and started to undress. I could see that there were a couple of built in wardrobes, and I guess that if he’s working here long days, then having somewhere to shower and change before going out is a great idea. But my mind wasn’t really on those boring practicalities. Watching Davey undress in front of me was a massive turn on. He wasn’t doing any kind of crappy fake strip show thing he was just getting undressed, but Oh My Fucking Fuck was I getting hard. And I could see that he was too. I didn’t hide the fact that I was adjusting my cock in my jeans. Stood in just his now bulging boxers, I couldn’t just sit there and watch any longer. Walking over to him, I got on my knees and pulled his boxers down, throwing them towards his other clothes as he stepped out of them. I just had to have his cock. Taking hold of him in one hand, I started to lick all along the hard hot length, before sucking the head into my mouth. Davey’s groan was intoxicating.

“Sit down Davey.”

And as he did, I resumed my kneeling position. Spreading his legs wide, I had easy access to suck and lick and generally enjoy his beautiful cock and balls. Licking his balls caused all kinds of happy moaning, but I think we both wanted something else. Taking his cock into my mouth, I started to suck and swallow, slowly taking more and more of him into my mouth. As much as I’ve always previously been a top, I’ve always liked sucking cock, and lads, even the bottom bois, they generally like getting sucked too. Taking him further, into my throat, I felt Davey’s hands on my head, rubbing my cropped hair, stroking the back of my neck and playing with my ears. Fucking heaven. Not really trying to make it last, I happily sucked Davey deep into me, making long sweeps in and out of my mouth. Taking my hands off his thighs for a moment, I needed to release my own cock, so that I could wank as I sucked him. I knew that Davey was getting close, and so was I. His balls were getting tighter, his breathing was all over the place, and his moans were getting slightly higher pitched. For my part, I was already on the edge, enjoying that moment of trying to make it last as long as I could, but also knowing that in the next minute I was going to have no control over what happened. Taking Davey’s cock out of my mouth, I started to wank him. A firm, tight grip, and not too fast - I’d already found out how he likes it. But the set-up was new. On my knees, wanking myself as best I can with my left hand and doing Davey right in my face. And that was totally where I wanted it.

“Oh fuck Cal, I’m gonna cum, ohhhh, really close.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a warning, or a plea for more head, or what.

“Fucking do it Davey, cum on my face. I want your cum on my fucking face.”

And with that, I got exactly what I wanted. Davey started to shoot, and because I was holding his cock, I guess I got to choose exactly where. And he spunked all over my face. The very sexy sound of him shooting, and the feeling as his cum hit my face sent me over the edge immediately, shooting all over the floor. Thank fuck I didn’t get any on my jeans - you know how you just can’t hide those marks. We stayed there for a moment, Davey looking down at me in his post-sex daze, me on my knees, looking up at him, my face coated with his cum. I couldn’t be certain of his expression.

“What?” I asked, eventually.

“Right now, I think you’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well maybe we’ll do it again some time. But we’re already going to be late, and I really fucking hope that shower works.”

It did, and we get cleaned up together - although both of us were still a little too exhausted for a re-run. Davey put on some more normal going out clothes, and we headed out. As we left his office, Nihal was still at his desk. I’m sure he guessed what had been going on, or at least, he was in the right area - and that probably made him resent me just a little bit more. He totally has a thing for Davey, I must ask him about that some time.

We met up with Kati, Simon and Mark at this hotel bar I’d never been to, and like all places Davey liked, it was pretty up market. Davey and Mark went to order drinks for us all, leaving me with Kati and Simon.

“So Cal, you’re still here.”

I knew that Kati would have to say something, so I was feeling prepared, and trying to remember that it’s all about how I react.

“Yes Kati, still here.”

I smiled at her, doing my best to be if not charming then at least difficult to dislike.

“Well Davey seems happy, so I guess something must be going right.”

“He’s always like that isn’t he?”

He certainly seemed to be. Both Kati and Simon laughed at that, and then almost immediately looked slightly awkward.

“The thing is” started Simon, “it’s been a really long time since I’ve seen Davey like this.”

“Oh?”

“Years, actually.”

I thought I understood where this was going.

“You mean, since Stephen...?”

It seemed plausible. But before Simon could respond Kati interrupted him.

“No, not since Stephen. I don’t think Davey really cared that Stephen died. OK, no, that’s really mean, it was terrible I’m sure. But it was his Dad. Davey and his Dad were very close, and he’s really struggled with it.”

“Kati!”

Simon obviously thought that Kati had overstepped the line, which I kind of imagined she did a lot.

“Well it’s true Simon, you know it is.”

“Yeah, well, it might be.”

But before I could ask any more questions, Davey and Mark were back with a couple of bottles of something fizzy, and the evening continued. For my part, it was actually pretty nice. I made a proper effort to be nice, and to try and choose not to get too mad when people were stupid. And the weird thing was, I think it kinda worked. I mean, it’s not like a fucking miracle happened or anything, but I suddenly realised what Jen meant when she was talking about letting people get to know me. It was hard work, I guess because I’m not really used to doing it. But things definitely felt different.

Later on, as I was walking back from the bathroom, something made me pause for a second, just out of sight of the others, and listen to what they were talking about. I kinda knew that it wasn’t a great thing to be doing, but hey, I’m human. Davey was talking.

“...so I don’t know, I guess he *is* living with me now, but we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Well you seem happy Davey.”

I recognised Simon’s voice easily.

“Yes, you know, I really am. I just hope he is.”

“What do you mean? He’s got pretty much everything living with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t mean like that. It’s just that, sometimes, when he’s not concentrating, or he thinks I don’t see him, he looks really sad.”

“Why would he be sad?”

“I don’t know, I suppose it’s a very different life from… well… from how things were before. He doesn’t seem to have any friends, he doesn’t ever see or speak to any of his family, nothing.”

“That sounds pretty weird if you ask me. Why would someone be like that? What’s he got to hide?”

Well no-one did fucking ask you, Kati.

“Hey! He’s an amazing guy, and I’m very happy that he’s around.”

“Oh. My. God. Did you both see that. Davey! Are you in love with him?”

“What!? I never said that…”

“No, you didn’t say it with words.”

I decided that I’d probably been gone long enough. And also, I wasn’t sure I wanted to listen to any more. So I walked back to the table from my temporary hide-out. All four of them were just looking at me, and not speaking.

“What?”

“Nothing” said Davey, “come and sit down”.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me close to him, and put his arm around me. There was definitely a few exchanged looks between the four of them before more normal conversation continued.

Hope you like it, and feel free to get in touch and/or comment either way.
Copyright © 2017 Sam Wyer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

“Good afternoon Mr Richardson, what can I do for you today?”

 

“Hi Nihal.”  I honestly didn’t mean to, but I think I probably spoke with a sigh, much like he did all the fucking time.  He possibly thought I was taking the piss, and maybe I was. 

 

That little exchange was just so fucking hilarious, no I mean you really captured it well, I can just picture the expression on Nihal's face.

 

Somehow I lost this story about halfway through, but I found my way back, and I'm loving every chapter. Very well written, refreshing story, great characters, and it just happens to be in London, England - in English (or should that say London English), LOL!

 

 

  • Like 2
1 hour ago, William King said:

“Good afternoon Mr Richardson, what can I do for you today?”

 

“Hi Nihal.”  I honestly didn’t mean to, but I think I probably spoke with a sigh, much like he did all the fucking time.  He possibly thought I was taking the piss, and maybe I was. 

 

That little exchange was just so fucking hilarious, no I mean you really captured it well, I can just picture the expression on Nihal's face.

 

Somehow I lost this story about halfway through, but I found my way back, and I'm loving every chapter. Very well written, refreshing story, great characters, and it just happens to be in London, England - in English (or should that say London English), LOL!

 

 

Thanks William, good to know that you are enjoying it! :) 

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