Oscar - 3. Part 3

Boys who like boys like boys who like boys.

Sounds simple, right?

Think about them for a moment. Eighteen-year-old lads like Adam and myself. Full of energy. Ever-growing creatures of mystery, muscle and testosterone. Going through changes, both mental and physical. Emerging into manhood is normal. It’s natural.

Like they’ve done since childhood they’ll question it. What, why, how do we understand these changes in our hair-sprouting, sweaty bodies?

We do what everyone must do to learn. We experiment. We experience.

You’d think, then, with hormones flying and adolescent heights to scale, when two boys who like boys are in bed together, engines fired and imaginations infinite, they’d soar as high and as hot as they can.

Think again.

Life isn’t like the movies. And it certainly isn’t like porn. Yes, it wasn’t difficult to get my co-pilot, Adam, to feed me an inflight appetiser and spin me some dinner entertainment, but, the main course was still a blip on the horizon.

The problem was, most boys who like boys at that age, that electrifying and terrifying age of adulthood, don’t know how to fire the engines and fly. And, while most of them have seen many an on-screen demonstration, novices often get apprehensive around the knobs and buttons.

I could tell by the fear in his eyes and the trepidation in his voice, Adam was going to be no different. Fortunately, I wasn’t like most boys. I’d had a lot of practice in the cockpit.

'Well?' he said.

His eyes were still wide with anticipation. His cock really was as hard as a rock under the thin, grey fabric of his tracksuit trousers, stretching across his entire leg. But so was mine, aching to be free of my denim.

Time to prepare for take-off.

Sitting up against the headboard, I narrowed my eyes and fixed my gaze. Only his moved. They followed me. His chiselled face, illuminated by the bedside lamp, remained still. Propped up in his strong hand at the end of his sculpted forearm.

‘Did Mr. Price ever do what I just did?’ I said.

Above a mischievous grin, his stare, animated and excited, lingered for a second more. From my angle, the colour was back with a vengeance. His eyes sparkled again. Then they flicked down to his crotch.

‘Many times,’ he said, running his palm from the tip of his cock, wrapped in cotton, down to the base.

Closing his hand around himself he squeezed. His whole body tensed. A long, thick vein bulged along his bicep.

‘Good memories?’ I said.

He looked back up. His eyes searing blue in the light.

‘Some of the best.’

‘Who was better?’

‘You.’

I grinned. Good answer.

Although, from the way Adam had worked my throat, I hadn’t needed to ask my first question. It was superfluous. I could tell mine wasn’t the only mouth he’d fucked that didn’t usually have lipstick around it. Unless teenage girls were suddenly into rough deepthroat.

Unlikely.

But, the next question. That mattered.

‘Did you suck his?’ I said.

Letting a dude suck you off is one thing. Sucking one off is another. Some of the so-called straights had gotten quite uptight when it came to choking down a few inches. And in my case, more than a few.

‘Yes,’ Adam said.

‘Did you like it?’

He looked down again. At me.

‘I fucking loved it.’

An even better answer. Clearly Mr. Price had taught Adam more than how to ruck and scrum.

‘Good,’ I said.

Unfastening my belt, I pulled the two ends apart. The buckle slumped onto my leg with a clink and I undid the top button of my jeans.

‘Help a brother out?’ I said.

‘You want me to suck your cock?’

‘Be a good boy.’

Recollection flickered in his eyes like I’d hoped it would. He’d heard those words before.

Shifting his weight, he rolled onto his front, over one of my legs, so his torso rested between them. Running his hands up the outside of my thighs to the top of my arse, he supported himself by his elbows.

His mouth was only inches from my crotch. His feet, over the end of the bed, lifted toward me until his soles pointed to the ceiling. His bare back looked phenomenal, tensed in all the right places, down to two hidden but almost spherical arse cheeks.

Licking his lips, he pinched the tiny gold rectangle at the end of my zip and pulled. Tooth by tooth the metal unclasped until two flaps of denim splayed open, revealing a layer of thin white cotton stretched over my hard cock.

He took a deep breath, no doubt savouring the sight and smells in front of him. Looking up he watched me intently. He was waiting.

He is a good boy.

‘Now pull down my jeans. Slowly.’

Without a word, he grasped my waistband with both hands and peeled my jeans down. The bunching material forced my legs closer together. Sliding my feet up the bed, I lifted my knees up and to the side, away from his head. With one last pull, denim, metal and leather hit the floor.

Opening my legs, I lowered them to their previous positions either side of him. The room was warm but the air tickled my freshly naked skin. Clenching, I raised my cock beneath its tight restraints.

‘He wants to be free,’ he said.

‘He does,’ I said. ‘Pass the weed.’

‘How will I smoke?’ he said, handing me the box.

He looked cute when he was confused.

‘I’m going to smoke. You’re going to suck.’

He smiled, raised his eyebrows and said, ‘Ok.’

He was enjoying our little role reversal.

‘I’m going to ask you some questions,’ I said.

‘What about?’

Pulling down the band of my undies with one hand I pulled out my cock with the other. For a second he went cross-eyed: his vision refocusing on something big and new and close. His mouth hung open.

‘I’m asking the questions,’ I said, releasing my underwear and putting my now free hand on the back of his head.

I pulled him towards me. He didn’t resist. My cock pulsed with imminent anticipation in my other hand.

His hair tickling my fingers, I felt the wet heat of his mouth wrap around me. My arse tensed, my hole clenched, my body shuddered and a short breathy gasp forced its way out of my mouth.

His tongue, smooth and slippery, glided across the underside of my shaft, up and around my head. I let go, of him and myself, and leaned into the pillows bundled against the headboard behind me.

For five long minutes, I left him to enjoy himself as I rolled a joint. At first, he was careful and considerate, which I appreciated. The last thing you want is a toothy amateur going gun’s blazing.

He made sure his lip covered his top front teeth and his tongue covered the sharp canines below. He opened his jaw wide enough to fit me in but didn’t lose suction. I was impressed. He was a total gentleman.

Until he found his rhythm and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Until his inner cocksucker came out. Then, jerking, licking, savouring and kissing, he was in heaven.

And so was I. On a scale of one to ten, one being your dick comes out bleeding and ten being you blow so hard you cum out his nose, Adam was a solid eight. Truth be told, there were occasions when I had to stop rolling and surrender to the waves of pleasure lapping at my balls.

He’s definitely done this before.

Finished rolling, I lit the joint and inhaled deeply. He slowed down and watched me. Watched me hold the heavy, blissful drag as I stared back into his eyes. My head swimming with a growing layer of fresh THC. My body tingling thanks to his thick, eager lips attached to his hungry, eager mouth.

I exhaled into the air and counted to ten in my head, his tongue dancing around the head of my cock. Then I spoke.

‘So,’ I said.

He stopped sucking and looked up: his cheek pushed out from the inside. It was a good look on him. Lifting his head, he released me from his mouth with a slurp. My cock catapulted backwards and slapped against the base of my abs.

‘So?’ he mimicked.

‘So tell me. What else do you fucking love to do?’

‘I dunno. What do you like to do?’

Breathing out a cloud of smoke in his face, I grabbed my cock in my free hand and slapped it against his cheek.

‘What did I say about asking questions?’

He smiled.

‘I fucking love to fuck,’ he said.

‘Who doesn’t?’

He said nothing. He was learning.

‘But we’ve got all night,’ I continued. ‘Surely there’s something else you’d like to do?’

He looked down and to the side. His fingers absentmindedly playing with the bedsheet.

I couldn’t believe it, Adam Stanmore, captain of the rugby team and King of School, had gone all shy.

‘It’s ok. You can tell me,’ I said.

‘There’s one thing I’ve never done,’ he said. ‘Mr. Price wanted me to do it to him, once, but I didn’t want to.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think I was ready.’

‘Are you ready now?’

‘I think so. With you.’

‘Lucky me.’

‘I’ve thought about doing it ever since you gave your presentation in English. I just wanted to bend you over Miss Stephenson’s desk.’

Taking a final drag of the joint, I dropped it into our beer bottle ashtray. It sizzled to an end next to the others. My cock, hard and gooey, bounced on my stomach.

I knew exactly what he was about to say.

‘Mate. You can definitely do that to me,’ I said.

‘You don’t even know what I want.’

‘Ask me then.’

He eyed my cock.

‘Don’t worry. You’re safe,’ I said with a wink.

‘Can I rim you?’

Got it in one.

No wonder he hadn’t wanted to stick his tongue up Mr. Price’s hole. Don’t get me wrong, I would have happily buried my face deep between those glorious peaks, but when you’re young and confused and used to hairless pussies in your face, it’s not exactly the first thing you’d go for.

‘Fuck yes,’ I said.

‘It’s all … ok down there?’

Remember what I said about them being apprehensive around the equipment? Case in point.

‘You mean will you get shit in your mouth?’ I said.

He laughed. Nervously. Said, ‘You really don’t mess around do you?’

‘No. And no, you won’t. I’m clean as a whistle.’

‘How do you know?’

I smiled. Poor innocent, uninitiated boy. As if I hadn’t come prepared.

Not that I blamed him. I’d felt the same way when I’d been less experienced. Until I’d met a silver fox in my early days of Gaydar.

He used to pick me up in his Mercedes and drive me to a penthouse room at the Hilton in the city. He’d let me use the big bath for as long as I wanted and order champagne and strawberries to the room. Then, spotless, I would lie on my stomach on the king-size bed with my face in plush hotel pillows and he’d eat me out for hours.

That guy had taught me a few lessons about sexual upkeep. After the first time I’d douched, I couldn’t believe how good I’d tasted on his lips.

I smacked Adam in the face with my cock again. His saliva had congealed and it struck his cheek with a slap.

‘Trust me,’ I said.

Glaring at me, he wiped away the gunk with the back of his hand. Neither of us said anything. I could almost hear the cogs in his head turning.

Then they stopped.

Pulling my briefs down and off in the same motion he threw them across the room. Then, putting my feet soles-down on the bed, I sat myself up. My cock flopped on to the duvet and my balls hung below. The V of my naked legs ran either side of his head.

Lifting himself up, he kneeled in front of me and wrapped his hands around each of my shins; his fingertips digging into my calves. Pushing me back until my shoulders rocked against the headboard, he lifted my arse. My cheeks spread.

He looked at my hole. I couldn’t see but I knew I was hairless. I'd been looking forward to Adam’s house all day and I’d come prepared.

‘Ok,’ he said. ‘I trust you.’

‘Then let rip.’