Oscar - 5. Part 5

I got my answer in fifteen seconds.

One: he smiled. Two: he squeezed my arse. Three: he took my hand. Four: I followed.

Five, six, seven: he led me out of his bedroom. Eight, nine, ten: down the hallway. Eleven: he faced me. Twelve: he winked. Thirteen: he reached behind and grabbed the door knob. Fourteen: click.

Fifteen.

‘If your parents could see you now,’ I said.

‘Don't even,’ he said, turning the dimmer switch and filling the room with a faint glow.

The room was no larger than his but even through the low light everything was different. The furniture. The temperature. The smell as pristine as its appearance.

The perfect place to get filthy.

Walking us inside he pulled over a framed photograph standing on a chest of drawers with his other hand. Glass rattled inside metal as it clapped against polished wood.

‘Mum and Dad?’

‘Worse,’ he said. ‘Grandparents.’

I pulled a sarcastic face. Said, ‘They wouldn't approve?'

Sitting down facing me on the immaculately-made queen-size bed, he propped himself up with locked arms. The mattress gave only slightly under his impressive weight and I smiled to myself.

Firm is always better.

Walking forward I stood between his thick, strong legs. Behind him a floor-to-ceiling mirrored wardrobe reflected us in two wide panels. My torso rose out of his gigantic shoulders and his crew-cut head was in line with my sternum. His back looked fantastic, but his cock, still rock hard, rose upwards, resting against his thigh.

The view directly in front was better though. For now.

‘I wouldn't know. They died before I was born,’ he said.

‘Sorry,’ I said, backing off half a step. ‘Way to kill the mood, hey?’

‘It's ok,’ he said, reaching out and pulling me back towards him by my waist.

His wide hands were warm against my skin. Thoughts of being thrown onto the bed or floor or up against the wall raced through my head and tugged between my legs.

‘I never met them. It's my parents you should worry about,’ he said.

‘Oh yeah?’ I said, turning my body from side to side so my cock knocked against his arms.

I wanted to change the subject. The mood needed lightening. Talking about his family wasn't what I’d had in mind.

Problem was, it wasn't my mind I had to worry about.

‘My dad said if he ever caught me with a girl in his bed he would kill me. I'm pretty sure he'd kill us both if he found out.’

I laughed. The old man would have to catch me first.

‘As if you've never fucked anyone in their bed,’ I said.

He tightened his grip on my waist and a spasm of ticklishness lurched through me.

‘I haven't,’ he said.

‘Bullshit,’ I said, flicking his ear.

‘Why's it so hard to believe?’

‘I don't get invited to your parties but I've heard about them.’

He smiled, but shrugged it straight off. In all the years of watching him, in the classroom, by the lockers, after school, it wasn't like Adam Stanmore to be modest.

‘Half true. But this room's off limits,’ he said.

‘Lucky me.’

‘You think so?’

‘I know so.’

Running his hands down to my hips he followed with his eyes. My cock twitched in anticipation but he let go. Something was up.

‘Not if they find out,’ he said.

‘They won’t.’

‘They might.’

Putting my arms around his neck I sat on his left leg and examined his face. I was right. No smile. No cheeky grin. Only a blank stare.

I shot a look down. His cock was semi-hard. I was losing him.

‘So what if they do?’ I said gently, lifting his chin with my finger and looking into his eyes; a deeper fear prickling across their surfaces. ‘It wouldn't be the end of the world.’

‘It's not as simple as that.’

‘Nothing ever is. But it's alright,’ I said.

‘No, it isn't.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I don't know if I can do this.’

My jaw dropped. Only slightly, but I couldn't help it. Blood rushed to my face and anger boiled in my stomach. Disbelief clouding my thoughts.

After all this. After all the hours I’ve put in reading his bitching and moaning on MSN. After everything we just did he’s pussying out now?

Thankfully, I’ve never been one for giving up without exhausting every avenue. Softening my face, I smiled and counted another four reps in my head.

Slowly, slowly catchy monkey.

‘It's ok, mate. Honestly, it's fine,’ I said getting off my perch and sitting down on the bed next to him.

‘Really?’

‘Of course. I’ll go.’

‘No, please don't. Stay.’

I nodded. Reverse psychology. Like a big-dicked daddy it's an oldie but a goodie.

‘If you don't want to do anything else that's cool as well,’ I said.

‘No I want to. Fuck, Oscar, I really want to bu–’

‘Your parents. I know.’

‘Fuck them. I couldn't give a toss what they think. They're never around to give a shit about what I do anyway.’

‘I know the feeling,’ I said.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah.’

Turning his neck, he looked at me and I caught his eyes. Like the confused, bisexual teenager he was, all kinds of emotions whirled in his sapphire spheres. Anger, anxiety, sadness, dread.

But there was excitement too. It flashed across his irises up into his eyebrows, raising them by a fraction of a centimetre.

‘Can I tell you something?’ he said.

Smiling I held up my hands in a shrug position and looked my own naked body up and down.

‘What do you think?’ I said.

‘Seriously, you can't say a word. He could get into serious trouble.’

‘Who?’

‘Mr. Price.’

Whether or not Adam noticed my eyes light up is hard to say, but there's no denying they did. We may have reached a temporary road block on our journey, but Mr. Price was a detour I was more than willing to take.

But why bring it up?

‘Are you fucking serious? Your parents caught you and him?’ I said.

‘God no,’ he said. ‘He'd already be in prison. Or dead.’

‘Then what?’

‘It was his wife. She caught us. In their bed.’

‘Oh. Shit.’

‘It was awful.’

‘What happened?’

He shuffled uncomfortably, and, slowly stroking his own arm, took a deep breath.

‘It was a Saturday afternoon, about two months after the changing rooms. We'd been doing stuff ever since. Not fucking or anything. Stuff.’

‘Like what?’

‘Jerking off. At first. School was too risky so after practice he'd drive us out near the woods before taking me home.’

‘Hot.’

He shot me a look. This wasn't that kind of story. To him.

‘Sorry,’ I said. Touchy, I thought. ‘How often did you meet?’

‘After every practice.’

‘Three times a week?’

‘Four if you count match days.’

‘Wow.’

‘It was intense. I couldn't concentrate at school. I stopped caring about rugby. All I wanted was to get in his car.’

‘I don't blame you.’

Letting out a single, breathy laugh he nudged me with his shoulder. The corner of his mouth raised in a small smile.

‘I was terrified. I loved it, but I had no idea what the hell was going on. We never spoke! He'd be his normal self on the pitch, ask if I wanted a lift, and when the car doors closed: silence. He would drive, park up, get his dick out and I'd copy.’

‘So how did his wife catch you?’

‘One night, in the car, out of nowhere he put his hand around my neck. I knew what he wanted.’

I closed my eyes for a second. The image was too good. I'd seen Pricey's car before, pulling into school. It was nothing amazing: a black Audi. But now it shimmered like an Aston Martin in my mind.

‘Half-an-hour later I swallowed my first load,’ he continued. ‘The next time he swallowed mine. Soon I would suck him off as he drove, if it was dark. He would suck me when we stopped. Then more and more clothes started coming off.’

The cogs in my head glided into place.

‘Eventually the car got too small,’ I said.

‘Yup. One Saturday instead of driving to our usual spot he took me to his. He said his wife was out and we had a few hours. Next thing you know we're in his bed and he's telling me to stick my tongue in his arse. You can guess the compromise we came to.’

I suppressed a laugh. Mr. Price taking it like a champ. Go figure.

‘She came back early, didn't she?’ I said.

Nodding his head slowly up and down he said, ‘I was pulling on a condom and there was a gasp from behind. She started to say, "you cheating bastard", but when she realised I wasn't him ... She was devastated.

‘She kept crying and crying, slumped on the floor in the doorway. Tim pushed me off and went to her but it didn't matter. She slapped and punched and pushed him and he just sat naked next to her taking it. I had to practically step over them both to get out of the house. I can still see her face when I close my eyes.'

I'd seen her before. Once. She'd dropped her husband off by the gates at school. Slender, blonde, big tits she was exactly the kind of woman you'd expect Pricey to be married to. Exactly the kind of woman who would never have seen it coming.

Not that I cared. I only cared about one thing. Myself. Reaching out I put a hand on Adam's leg. He turned and looked at me. His eyes teary.

‘It's not your fault,’ I said

‘Yes, it is. I'm the reason he went crazy, Oscar. I'm the reason he lost his job.’

‘The school knows?’

‘No, not like that. Fuck knows what would have happened if she’d known I was one of his students.’

‘You were sixteen. It’s legal. What were they going to do?’

‘It’s not legal if he’s your teacher, Oscar. It’s called a position of trust. I looked it up online. He could have gone to jail.’

I said nothing.

‘His wife thought I was just some guy. Some faggot he'd picked up.’

I winced. The self-hatred dripping from his lips was undeniable.

Then I realised it was now or never. Turn up the heat or lose him forever to self-pity. I punched him. As hard as I could on the arm.

‘What the fuck was that for?!’

‘Listen to yourself, mate. You're being ridiculous,’ I said.

‘Fuck you. No I'm not.’

‘Yeah you are. It's not your fault. It's his.’

‘It isn't. He didn't force himself on me. I chose to fuck him.’

‘And so would anyone else in your position. Trust me. Like seriously, trust me. You can't beat yourself up over this.’

‘What, so you will?’ he said, rubbing his arm.

‘Sorry,’ I said, taking his hand away and kissing his shoulder. ‘But you need to understand. That, there, is real pain. The pain eating you up inside your head isn't real. It was, when it happened. It must have sucked. But now you need to let go or else you'll miss out on some pretty awesome shit.’

‘Like fucking you.’

‘Like fucking me,’ I said with a wink.

He smiled.

‘I feel guilty,’ he said.

‘Yeah. You’re human. You do something shit, you feel bad. But I bet you've never told anyone that before, have you?'

‘No.’

‘And I bet you feel better now, don't you?’

‘No.’

Raising my eyebrows, I tilted my head towards him. Raised my fist. Said, ‘Don’t make me hit you again.’

He laughed. Said, ‘Fine. A little. Why are you being so nice to me?’

Because I need you to fuck me, you idiot.

‘Because being nice is easier than being a twat. Sometimes.’

He laughed again and shivered. He was getting cold, naked on his parents' bed. So was I.

‘Here,’ I said, crawling across and sliding under the sheets. ‘Get in.’

Without a word, he pulled back the covers and twisted himself under. Facing me so his nose almost touched mine. For a while we looked at each other, saying nothing. The smell of fresh linen filling our nostrils and the gentle buzz of the light switch the only sound.

Turning I shuffled my body against his. He put his arm over me and we spooned.

The sun was shining when we woke, and I couldn’t have been happier that I’d waited to catch that monkey.