Oscar - 13. Part 13

It's funny, really.

Funny how frustrated I became over how little time I had to fuck James. How stressed I was that the condom was too small. How impatient I became after a minute of fumbling slippery latex before running downstairs to grab my own I'd stupidly left in the back pocket of my jeans.

As I bit open the second packet, finally peeled the rubber down myself and lubed up, I could hear the seconds ticking away inside my head. With each stroke of my internal clock I knew I had less and less time to accomplish two very specific and important tasks.

The first, and least important, was to blow. Since watching Mr. Price run off into the sunset earlier that evening, the urge to unload had pulled and tugged at my balls like a greedy party boy after his first hit of poppers.

The problem was, as I put a hand on James’ lower back to push his perfect, pink hole higher, positioned myself and checked the clock on top of his bedside table – four thin, red numbers blaring out the inescapable fact that his parents would be home in half an hour – I couldn't just rag him stupid, empty my balls and get out of there.

I couldn't do what Adam had done to me only days before. Use James like a personal cum dumpster until I was sweaty, spent and all better. It wasn't an option because of the second task. The most important.

He needs to enjoy it.

Not that I hadn’t enjoyed having my arse ploughed by Adam, but I’d had plenty of practice taking cock. James hadn’t. I needed him to push through the pain and want me again.

I needed him to be keen to spread his legs for me so that one day, he’d let Adam join in.

James knew I packed a heavy punch, so to speak. But he didn't need weeks of picture messaging and a throatful to know Adam's would be heavier, bigger, thicker and stronger. Even the ginger midget knew the stories of girls not being able to talk or walk properly the day after one of the King's parties.

Everyone does.

There was nothing I could do but work James's hole hard and fast enough to get my rocks off, but gently and considerate enough so I wouldn't put the guy off bottoming forever.

Because let’s face it, no matter how much he might have fantasised about my cock driving inside of him, balls deep, tough and rough, if I rushed or pushed too quickly or carelessly, the reality would incinerate his and my dreams in a searing, burning instant.

But, it was funny. Ironic, even. Because I’d severely overestimated how long I would last.

I should have known. Seen, or rather sensed it, when I'd slid my first finger inside of him. Past the constricted, ringed wall of his hole squeezing me so tight I’d felt the blood pumping under my nail, down my finger and through my hand.

I lasted four minutes. Maybe less. I didn't count. My mind was too busy switching control of my body to my balls, and they were too busy pulsing and throbbing. Filling up ready to fire as I pushed myself deeper and deeper inside the tightest boy I'd ever had the pleasure of breaking in.

I should have ignored his adorable whimpers and moans as his face turned redder and redder and droplets of sweat glistened across his forehead. I should have resisted the urge to push apart his arse cheeks with my index finger and thumb. I shouldn't have let myself see every single smooth detail of his hairless hole clamped around my rock-hard cock. Sliding back and forth, slow and steady. Pulling out and pushing in a little more each time.

About three-quarters the way in, time wise and physically in him, my load stirred. Fast and uncontrollable as waves of pleasure rose and rolled. Even paintings of his stern, wrinkled grandparents wouldn't have helped.

The veins in my cock bulged. My thrusts grew faster. Harder. Deeper. Rougher. Tougher.

Panic suddenly raced through my mind as I realised I could be hurting him. His hands were clutching at the bed sheets like little vices again. Bunching up the fabric in tall, skinny, creased mounds.

But my fear vanished as quickly as it had arrived. His eyes. They'd rolled to the back of his head, twisted ninety degrees flat against the bed, and only a thin white line showed beneath his full eyelashes. His moans were deep and slow. His body was relaxed enough to rock a counter-rhythm. His cock was hard. He was loving every second.

But so was I.

Putting a hand between his shoulder blades, I steadied myself and thrusted as deep as I could. His glutes, smooth and slick with sweat and lube squashed against the base of my abs and he took it all. Squeezed every inch of me from tip to base.

My other hand clamped around his waist and his back arched. His hole tightened. Mine tightened. My legs shook. My whole body did. His mouth opened wider to let out a loud, pleasure-filled moan. Mine joined alongside and our sounds filled his bedroom, bouncing against the walls and down and out into the house as my load did the same inside its latex bubble.

I don't know how long I laid on top of him afterwards, amazed at how quickly he'd made me cum. My cock twitching and his arse clenching. Our teenage smells mingling. Our chests rising and falling fast. Our hearts beating hard.

It wasn't ages, but it felt like forever.

When I eventually slid out of him the condom was full. James checked the clock and frowned. Told me to tie up the end and leave it on the side so he could jerk off with it when I was gone. I told him to send me a picture.

Five minutes later as I did up my laces, fully dressed and sitting on the edge of his bed, a toilet flushed. James walked back into his room, now pairing his green t-shirt with blue gym shorts. His face was still red but he was smiling from ear to ear.

Running over he jumped onto the bed bedside me. Threw his arms around my shoulders, hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

‘That was amazing,’ he said. ‘You're amazing.’

I smiled to myself. Thank fuck he was a virgin.

‘Thanks,’ I said, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine for a few seconds before casually wriggling away and standing up.

‘Are you going?’ he said.

‘Soon. I should probably head before your folks get back,’ I said.

‘Yeah. I wish you didn't have to. We could cuddle.’

I suppressed a laugh. The poor lad really did have the wrong end of the stick. But it was too soon to crush his dreams. I rustled his hair instead.

‘Another time. That thing I text you about though.’

‘Oh yeah?’ he said, jumping to his feet and following me out of his bedroom.

‘You hear about Adam Stanmore today?’ I said as we walked down the thin, spiral stairway.

His footsteps stopped behind me. I looked back. His mouth was wide in surprise.

‘I know! I can't believe it!’ he said following me again. ‘Beaten up by his own father. What a prick.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, now back on the first floor and looking out the window, past my reflection, for signs of headlights.

None.

‘You know why, right?’ I said.

‘Didn't he shag a girl in his parents' bed?’

I stopped at the top of the main, sweeping staircase and James almost bumped into me.

‘What?’ he said.

‘No, he fucked a guy.’

‘Fuck off!’ he said, his face wide with surprise again. A lot wider than before. ‘Who?’

I said nothing. Just looked down expressionless at him. It took him three seconds to put two and two together.

‘You?’ he said.

I nodded.

Then something happened. Another something I should have seen coming, but I'd been too preoccupied with getting my message across and getting out of his house to see it staring me in the face.

His mouth hung low and morphed into a frown. He looked down and then back up at me, trying to hide his emotions but failing. Like all the typical teenagers before him, he'd thought a few texts and a fuck meant we were boyfriends forever.

But this was different. This was extreme. The kid looked heartbroken.

‘Why are you telling me this?’ he said.

Shit. Think fast.

Putting an arm around his shoulder, I walked him down the sweeping staircase. Eyed a wall clock as we went. Now was not the time for damage control, but I had no choice.

‘Look,’ I said as we reached the ground floor. I squeezed him tighter and turned to face him, my hands on his shoulders. ‘I wish I had more time to explain, but Adam meant nothing to me, I promise. But, we got chatting after school today. We spoke about what happened with his dad. I told him he wasn't alone and I'd be there to help if he needed it, you know?’

James nodded. Said nothing. His eyes still sad but now sparkling bright blue under the hanging chandelier like Adam’s had.

‘Then he asked me something really interesting. He wanted to know if there were any other guys at school like us,’ I said.

James looked up. His sad eyes tinted with fear.

‘Did you tell him about me?’ he said.

‘No way. But I said I did know one other guy. A really sweet, nice, cute guy I fancied the pants off, and before I knew it, the poor dude was begging me to get us all together.’

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘I think he's lonely. Wouldn't you be?’

I opened the front door and leaned against it. James’s frown had gone, replaced with confusion and sympathy.

‘I guess so,’ he said.

‘So how about it?’ I said, poking him gently in the centre of his chest. ‘Shall I tell him he and I can come over some time when your parents are out? Hopefully for a little longer,’ I said, tickling him.

He giggled and writhed away from me. Smiled.

‘So you two aren't together?’ he said.

‘No way!’ I said, putting my hands around his waist and pulling him close.

‘And he won't say anything about me to anyone?’

‘I assure you he won’t.’

‘Ok,’ he said nodding. ‘Why not!’

I beamed. Then I kissed him on the lips.

‘You're amazing,’ I said. ‘Don’t forget that pic.’

‘I won’t.’

Winking I turned and ran down the driveway, just as the gates began to rattle open. Almost diving behind a tree, I watched the black Mercedes pull back into the drive and trundle up to the house behind me.

Back by the bus stop I pulled out my phone. Thumbed a message to Adam:

I've got a bite. He'll need a little more convincing but his arse is tight as fuck. He thinks I'm his boyfriend. Will do anything for me. You'll like his house too.

Adam’s reply didn't ping through my headphones until I was already off the bus.

You work quickly. Pics?

Scrolling through my archived conversations I found the picture message James had sent as I’d been walking home through the field after school. But as I went to forward it to Adam, a new one pinged across my screen. From James.

My load looked great as lube so I sent them both. This time Adam's reply was practically instantaneous.

Wow.