Life Is What You Make It
by Alexander

 

Part 1

School is out. For good. I am sixteen years old and have left school, waiting to start college in eight weeks. Two months in which to sort myself out. My problem is that I like boys, or more precisely boys and men. The female of the species have no attraction for me at all. In fact I am rather scared of them because they don’t think like me, or any of the boys I know.

I have had the attraction for males ever since I was aware that there was a difference. Physical that is, as well as mental. At the age of ten.

Watching boys getting changed always gives me a thrill. Comparing their heights, hair colour and faces is where I start. Their bodies, skin colour and texture. Muscles, cuts, bruises and scars. Penises, testicles. I turn to the wall, hiding my excitement, dressing quickly and efficiently. I am afraid of what they will say and do if they see what effect their naked body has on me.

I play soccer. I make sure I am good at it so that I can stay in the team and watch them as they dress and undress. Furtively I observe their hands caressing their bodies as they stand in the shower, rivulets of soapy water running down their smooth bodies. Stare a little more attentively as they carefully attend to their crotches, fingers toying with their penises for just a few seconds – not too much though in case they enjoy it. Gaze a little more overtly as they wash their hair vigorously, eyes tightly closed, penises and testicles dancing around invitingly. Finally witnessing them dry themselves, taking the chance to examine their manhoods more carefully as their heads are covered by the towels. Then dressing myself hurriedly to secrete my hardness lest it be seen.

Off the pitch, I keep my head down. No close friends, no one to visit, no one to invite home. It’s safer that way. I wear my glasses constantly, without any need. Another barrier.

I’ve seen boys feel each other. I’ve seen boys masturbate, alone and in pairs. I’ve even been invited to join in, but turn away, disgusted. Not with them, with me for not having the courage to do what I know isn’t wrong.

So. I have given myself two months to make my mind up. A two-month bridge between a nervous schoolboy and confident student. A bridge between innocence and maturity.

I spend most of my days wandering around town. 25 000 people. Three parks. Shopping mall. Railway station and so on. And seven public toilets, all of which I know and have used. But only of course for their intended purpose. Others use them for their own pleasures as I can read on any of the walls. Jealous? Yes, of course. Afraid? Terrified.

There are five points of reference in my solitary perambulations: the library, the bookstore, the music store, the corner cafe‚ and the parks.

The library to look at the art books. I am good at painting and would dearly love to be one. The bookstore to buy paperback copies of award-winning improving books. The music store to listen to and perhaps buy a CD that suits my mood. The cafe‚ because it is opposite the bus and train stations and I can indulge my secret vice of people watching. Males that is. Only those enter my consciousness. Females flit by unheeded and unnoticed. The parks because I can be alone and read my books and watch the comings and goings in the toilets enviously.

It’s taken me a week, but I have worked out what sort of men I like the look of. Or at least think I like. Men of about 30 or 35. Clean shaven and well-dressed. And hopefully intelligent. Boys about a year or so older than me. Dress immaterial as long as they are clean and tidy. Intelligence? Don’t care as long as they aren’t thugs, druggies or thieves.

Tuesday, second week. I am in the bookshop sat on the big leather settee browsing through a selection of paperbacks I have picked up. They are a mixture of classic fiction, new books and a few gay novels written by authors I was familiar with. There was no trouble taking this sort of book home as my parents had never thought of censoring my reading. I selected “Now and Then” by William Corlett: a bit on the dated side, but it looked OK.

Clasping the book, I made my way to the nearest park to start reading it. I had by now chosen a favourite place near the Gents toilets. A discrete distance away, either on the bench if it was free, or under a tree if it wasn’t. From either spot I could watch the entrances and exits of the users, keeping track of how many were inside. I had become an expert on how the toilets were used. Two minutes or less for a piss, five minutes or so for a crap. Ten minutes or more and they were neither urinating nor defecating. Neither were those men who used the facilities every fifteen minutes or so. I soon got to know the regular habitues, none of whom attracted me, despite the occasional semi- desperate ‘come hither’ look I was graced with. Apart from one. He could be anywhere between17 and 20, reasonably smart and walked with a swagger that was obviously staged. It was his face that attracted me the most. He was good looking. Not beautiful or handsome, just good looking. Even my unconscious cock woke up when he appeared. I sat on the grass and waited.

It took about twenty minutes for him to turn up. Giving me no more than a cursory glance, he disappeared into the toilets. I knew that there was no one in there; he waited ten minutes before emerging and going for a brisk walk around the park. On his return, he looked at me for a little longer, but still no acknowledgement of my presence.

I knew the toilets were still empty. With all my heart I wished I had the courage to follow and get him to at least look at me. Even a simple nod of the head would have done. A spoken ‘Hi!’ or ‘Hello!’ would have sent me into orbit. My mind wanted this, but my brain didn’t. No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t persuade my body to stand up and take that short walk. Slamming my book down on the grass in a fit of temper, I gave myself a mental bollocking for being so weak.

On his second circuit, my heart missed a beat as he diverted from his path and walked towards me. Shit! Now what do I do? Just a few minutes ago, my legs wouldn’t carry me fifty metres; now they wanted to take me away from here as fast and as far as they could. Before my brain could sort itself out, a voice from above spoke.

“Hi!” it said. “Don’t I know you?”

Innocent as I was, I recognised a time-worn come-on cliché‚ when I heard one and I was a bit disappointed at his lack of imagination.

“Sorry?” I stumbled out. “I don’t think so.”

Shit! What a lame-brain reply, almost as bad as his opener.

“Yes, I do. You use the cafe‚ near the station most mornings. Tea and toast.”

“Sorry,” I said again, realising who he was. “I didn’t recognise you.”

He sat down next to me. Close, but not familiarly close.

“No reason why you should. I work behind the counter cooking up the junk,” he laughed. “I wear kitchen whites and a silly hat.”

“Oh!” I said.

His voice fitted his face perfectly if you see what I mean. Not deep, not light. That sort of voice you get between adolescence and manhood. My dick rose to full hardness at his close proximity and lovely voice. I raised my knees to hide it, not daring to look down in case it was visible.

“I’m Philip,” I managed to say. There was no need to shake hands – he wasn’t the type that went in for that sort of thing, I could tell.

“I’m Andrew,” he replied. “Bacon to my friends.”

“Bacon?” I queried.

“Yeah. ‘Cause that’s what people are always yelling at me in the kitchen!”

We laughed together briefly.

“Any luck today?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the toilets.

“N-nn-no,” I stammered out, blushing to the roots of my hair. “I haven’t been in there. Haven’t tried.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just thought with your sitting here watching, and the way you look at the men in the cafe‚ that you were …… well, you know.”

I blushed even deeper if that were possible and stared at the ground. I’d been recognised by someone I wasn’t even aware existed, and he’d also worked out what sort of person I was. Or wanted to be.

“Hey, listen,” Andrew said, “I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that you’re quite good-looking. I can’t help watching you in the cafe‚ and when I saw you here as well, I thought it was Christmas!”

I smiled wryly at this and turned to face him. “I’ve never, err, never done anything like this before.”

“But you’d like to? Right?” he whispered.

I nodded very slightly, this time keeping eye contact.

“Shit!” he mouthed in mock astonishment. “What? Not even at school?”

I shook my head. “I’ve always wanted to,” I stumbled on, “But I’ve always been too nervous, and now that I’ve left school I thought I’d do something about it. Just to see, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Andrew replied. “I was the same when I was your age. I did get a bit at school though,” he laughed. “But since then I’ve hardly done anything except for a few wanks and BJ’s in places like that.”

“That’s more than I have,” I giggled nervously.

There was a pause before Andrew went on, “Listen, I’ve never done anything like this before either and I’m not sure I should be doing it now, but how would you like to come to my place tomorrow after I finish work? No promises, no commitments, just a cup of coffee and see what happens. If it doesn’t work out, we can part friends and no problems. It’d be better than that stinking place anyway. And safer!”

It didn’t take more than a second to make my mind up. So far I liked Andrew, and the chances of my finding anyone else like him were remote to say the least. In any case, he already knew more about me than anyone else in the world and if I was to find anything worthwhile out about myself, I had to start somewhere.

“OK. I think I’d like that.” I whispered.

“Brill!” Beamed Andrew. “I finish at two o’clock. If you’re there, fantastic. If not, then no hard feelings either. But don’t stop coming in the cafe though, whatever happens, you make my day when I see you.”

And that was it. My first real date! We chatted about odds and ends for a while, but then I had to leave if I was to get home before my parents did.

It had been a confusing sort of day, and as I headed homewards I tried to put my thoughts in order regarding Andrew. He my parents would definitely disapprove of. Wrong social class (they were heavily into that), wrong job (manual labour) and ill-educated. Even his age was against him, a two- year gap they would accept maybe, but no more than that. Andrew, I was sure must be at least 19, if not older. Still, we liked each other so far, and it wasn’t his intellectual abilities that attracted me to him either!

All in all it was a satisfying day I decided. The only thing I had to do was to persuade my erection to go down before my parents got home. And that I could take care of easily.

I dressed with unusual care the following morning, needing to make myself presentable. Boxers, not briefs: erections are easier to hide. Beige chinos. Sports shirt and zip-up jacket. No spectacles. For me this was a major change, I was acutely aware of removing a barrier between myself and the world, a world I wanted to be part of. They were in my pocket though, just in case.

I went to the cafe‚ as usual when I got into town, but entered with some trepidation. I wasn’t completely sure that I wanted to see Andrew again. One half of me said that I shouldn’t even be thinking of getting involved in anything as sordid as gay sex, especially with a stranger: the other half told me that unless I did, I would never find out for sure which side of the fence I was on. Andrew gave me a big smile and wave as I sat down and I waved back. There was nothing about him that marked him out as freak, an oddity, a gay man in a straight world. He looked quite normal in fact. No different to look at than anyone else. And yet there was something about him that I found fascinating, and despite my earlier misgivings decided that I would go ahead and meet him later.

In the meanwhile, I killed time by visiting the book shop and library as normal, but not unexpectedly found that I couldn’t settle down either to read or explore the bookshop. Even the art gallery held nothing to interest me today, and so I walked about town until the time came to meet Andrew. As I made my way back to the cafe, I thought about what the next hour or so would bring. In fact I was looking forward to it as the time approached two o’clock, and my cock had hardened a little in anticipation.

And there he was, bang on time and grinning at me as he left the cafe. Indicating that I should follow him, I tagged along behind until we rounded the corner, uncomfortably aware that every pair of eyes in the street were watching me, knowing what I was doing, where I was going and what I was going to do when I got there.

“I’ve got a bedsit round the corner,” he said as I caught up with him “Still up for it?”

I nodded, feeling incredibly nervous. What we spoke about on our way to his home I have absolutely no idea, my mind was reeling with fright at the situation I had got myself into. ‘Run’ my brain said, ‘clear off’, ‘make yourself scarce’. ‘Hang on’, my mind said, It’ll be OK’, This’s what you want’.

My knowledge of bedsits, gained from the TV and movies, was that they were dark, dismal and depressing. To my astonishment, Andrew’s was clean, bright and cheerful. He had two small rooms in fact, a tiny kitchen/dining area and a larger bedroom/living room, the single bed being partly disguised by a brightly coloured throw spread over it. The furniture, whilst cheap, was all new.

“Make yourself at home,” Andrew said. “I’m going to have a shower. Back soon.”

With that he picked up a towel and sponge bag and left the room, heading to what was evidently a communal bathroom.

Wherever I looked in the room, my eyes kept being dragged back to the bed. It had taken on a significance out of all proportion to its size in my mind. What pleasures did it promise? What desires would it fulfil or deny? Turning my back on it, I gazed around me. On the table were a few books – all about cooking and catering; on the walls a few chain-store prints and in the corner a plastic tub for dirty clothes. Still keeping my back to the bed, I picked up a book and flicked through it idly.

“Still here then?” Andrew grinned as he came in the door, dressed in joggers and shirtless. “Want a drink? Tea? Coffee?”

I watched him as he pottered about the kitchenette, staring at his smooth back and chest, noting at the same time that beneath his joggers he couldn’t have any underwear on. My hitherto softened dick began to come to life, reminding me why I was here. I was still nervous, but much less so. I’d made my mind up that I would go through with it and see what happened, after all, what harm could it do? If I didn’t like it, I could leave and never see him again. And if I liked it? My cock hardened a bit more.

Andrew put the two steaming cups on the table and sat on the only other place available, the bed.

“Come over here,” he said quietly, patting the bed. “Sit here.”

I moved across the room and did as I was asked.

“Is it really your first time?” he asked, looking at me.

I nodded. “Have you done it a lot?” I asked, stupidly. Why did I want to know that? Was it important?

“A few times at school. Once or twice since then, but not a lot.”

“What about the toilets? I thought it happened in there a lot.”

“Probably does,” Andrew relied, “But to be honest, I’ve never done anything in them. The people that go there are too old, too dirty or want to do things I don’t.”

We chatted for a few more minutes but then fell into an awkward silence. Both of us knew what was at the forefront of our minds, but neither was going to be the first to mention it. Andrew, it dawned on me, was just as nervous as I. But then, I rationalised, he is older than me, more experienced than me, and this is his home. He should make the first move.

As if he’d read my thoughts, he put an arm around my shoulders and a hand on my knee. I jumped at the sudden intimate contact and then forced myself to relax.

“Do you want to?” he whispered, sliding his hand up the inside of my thigh.

The exciting tingle spreading out from my groin, the nervous, warm glow suffusing my body told me ‘yes!’ My hidden erection, and his obvious one, confirmed it. There was no going back now.

“Yes.” I whispered, staring at the hand inches away from my aching cock.

“Good.” he replied. “That makes two of us. Just the right number!”

He leaned towards me and for one terrifying moment I thought he was going to try and kiss me or something, but instead he gently pushed me back on the bed.

My mind was in free-fall. For years I’d wanted this to happen, dreamed about it, jerked off to it and wanted it so badly it hurt. Now here I was, laid out on a bed with a stranger: a good-looking, half-naked stranger with his hand approaching my virginal cock and I hadn’t a clue what to do. My arms lay frozen by my side, my eyes staring at his hairless chest.

Then his hand found my prick. Through my trousers and boxers, he gently felt its rigid hardness. I gasped audibly and held my breath, eyes wide open and heart racing. Whatever doubts I’d had before vanished instantly. This was good. This was right. This was what I’d always needed.

Andrew slipped an arm under my neck and slid up the bed so our groins were at the same level. Gently, he felt all around my sweating tool and balls, making me moan loudly.

“Can I take it out?” he said quietly.

“Yes,” I sighed.

The few seconds it took for him to loosen my trousers and slide his hand into my boxers seemed to take forever. When his fingers grasped my prick and worked it out through my flies, I almost passed out. I’d never, ever, felt anything like it. Looking down at myself, all I saw was a hugely erect penis, slick with pre-cum, held delicately in a man’s hand. The iron-hard dick didn’t seem to be part of me, and yet it also seemed to be all of me. Every fibre of my body was centred there, every sense overloaded, and yet I wanted more.

Desperately, I lifted my hips up off the bed and thrust my clothes down to my ankles, giving him free access to all of me. Willingly and lustfully.

His fingers explored my prick and balls exquisitely, every move sending shivers of fire through my body. I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood as I stifled a scream.

Then it happened. With a frenzied thrust, I arched my back, forced my cock into his hand, and ejaculated. Massively, magnificently and ecstatically painfully, each shot convulsing me wildly.

“Christ!” I moaned once I’d regained consciousness, still not believing how mind-blowing it was.

“I think you needed that!” Andrew laughed, as he wiped my spunk from his fingers. “Did you like it?”

I then did something I’d only dreamed of before, I threw my arms around him and hugged tightly, aware of tears sliding down my cheeks.

” ‘S OK,” he whispered in my ear. “It gets us all like that sometimes.”

Wiping the tears away with the back of my hand, I grinned sheepishly at Andrew, flustered at the rapidity with which things had happened and the tears I’d shed.

Normally, after a wank, I get depressed for a few minutes, but this time, despite the intensity of it, I didn’t. In fact my dick hadn’t even gone down, not all the way anyhow.

“Can I do you now?” I asked.

“No need,” he laughed. “Look!”

He pushed his joggers down to his knees and nodded at his crotch. His semi-hard dick rested in a glistening pool of cum, matting his light brown pubic hairs together.

“And that’s without touching it!” he giggled. “Must be the effect you have on me.”

His was the first adult man-sized cock I’d seen close up. Experimentally I ran my fingers through his hairs and around his penis, staring, fascinated as it rose to its full glory again. His hairs, like the ones on his head were fair, almost blond, and they even grew slightly on his balls. The whole package looked beautiful. Exciting. Wonderful.

For the first time, I consciously and lucidly, knew what I was. I’d seen between a girl’s legs once when I was about eight years old and even then thought how lucky I was to have my appendages. Now it was confirmed.

Andrew let me fondle and examine him minutely, my fingers dancing lightly around his crotch, my brain absorbing every last detail of his pride and joy. I also enjoyed his caressing me, one hand containing my tender erection, the other toying with my balls.

We both came again of course, but nowhere near as strongly as before, and not as passionately either, but it satisfied us both and cemented our new relationship.

It was in a dangerously euphoric mood that I made my way home some little time later, but not before we’d exchanged mobile numbers. I could have stayed longer of course, but it was essential that today, of all days, I got home before my parents. For one thing I needed a shower to lose the smell of sex from my body, and for another to rid my shirt of the tell-tale white spots which trailed down from my neck to my crotch. ‘Next time’, I reminded myself, ‘I must take my shirt off first!’.

In fact I didn’t see Andrew for three days. On the first day, mum needed me to stay home and help move some furniture around. The second day, dad was going to London on business and invited me along for the ride. To be honest, I was a bit pissed off at the intrusion into my plans, but on the other hand, I was grateful for the amount of freedom they allowed me at other times, and I liked going out with dad, in fact they were the only times we could be together without mum. He’d even started to buy me a few drinks in the pub once in a while. Andrew and I kept in touch by texting, messages I had to delete immediately they’d been read as they were getting dangerously suggestive.

As I made my way into town on the third day, I made my mind up that I shouldn’t try to see Andrew every day as things would probably get boring if we saw each other too much, and in any case I wasn’t sure if my nobody could take it every day!

We’d agreed, amid our texting frenzy, that I would go straight to his bedsit for about half past two. That would give him time to freshen up and have a tidy-round. The door was open when I got there, and two cups of coffee were waiting on the table.

“Saw you coming down the road,” he explained. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not.” he added.

In reply, I walked into his arms and hugged him.

“Of course I’d come,” I said, ignoring the double entendre.

I slipped my hands under his T-shirt and we embraced lightly, swaying gently as if dancing to a silent melody. It felt good. Being held by someone seemed to shut the rest of the world out, our bodies sharing the same space; heat and desire uniting us. I could feel his erection pressing against mine: just a few days ago, I would have laughed if anyone had told me that I could have this effect on anyone. That I always got hard at the sight of naked male bodies was irrelevant – just a sort of glitch in my make-up. Men got hard for girls: that was normal, desirable and right. Getting hard for other men was abnormal, undesirable and yet still acceptable as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t help it, and neither could people like Andrew. What you can’t change, you live with.

“Wanna get undressed?” Andrew whispered.

As if in a trance, I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall to the floor. I kicked off my trainers and pulled my socks off. Putting my hands on my belt, I glanced up at Andrew; he was wearing just his jeans by now and was watching me intently. Together we slid our trousers and underwear off and stepped out of them, facing each other, naked, vulnerable and obscenely erect.

Unashamedly, we examined each other from head to toe. If I’d fulfilled a desire to do this at school and done this in the changing room, I would without doubt been beaten to a pulp and labelled forever as a queer. Now it was OK. Demanded in fact, to confirm our craving for each other.

Andrew was about my height, lissom and unmarked. His short golden brown hair glistened in the sunlight, a loose curl straying over his soft grey eyes. Below his navel, a thin line of hair flowed down like an arrow, pointing the way to a bunch of curls surrounding his superb prick. Only just a little bigger than my pride and joy, it was five inches of uncircumcised splendour surmounting a pair of heavy, pendulous testicles, covered in fine hair. They were larger than mine, but matched his body perfectly.

Mentally, I tried to picture what he saw. Black medium length hair, unmanageable unless it was gelled down. Hairless body apart from a dense moustache-like growth above my dick; my genital hair had yet to develop fully, which was a cause of embarrassment to me sometimes. I knew boys two years younger than me who had a better looking bush. My balls were half the size of Andrews and held tighter into my groin than his, but I knew they worked and was happy with that. My legs were muscular because of all the soccer I played, my arms less so.

I was content with my body apart from the lack of pubes, and awaited Andrew’s verdict with interest.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “Really, really nice.”

Still unused to commenting on the beauty or otherwise of male bodies, I lamely replied, “You too.” I hoped my erection told him what I really thought.

Andrew took a step backwards and in one smooth move lifted up the duvet and slid down into bed, holding it up for me to join him.

A few days ago when I’d had sex for the first time, it was frenzied and passion-driven, over before it had begun. Now it was less frantic but still intense. My nerves were as tight as a bow-string as I slid alongside him in the single bed, putting my arms around his waist to hold us together.

The feeling of skin against skin was electric. I gasped as I felt his heat burning its way into me, from my chest to my thighs, our cocks throbbing alongside each other. It took an immense amount of will power to stop myself from bucking into Andrew, I knew that once started I wouldn’t be able to stop until I came, which wouldn’t be long.

“Take it easy,” I whispered to Andrew. “I’m almost there.”

Andrew giggled and stroked my hair, looking deep into my eyes.

“Deep breaths,” he murmured. “Take some deep breaths until you calm down a bit.”

Amazingly, it worked. After a few minutes my heart had slowed down and I could breath normally. The desperate urge to orgasm had also faded much to my relief and I hesitantly slid my hand between us and searched for his dick. Once found I took it under my fingers and held it gently, absorbing its warmth and testing its hardness.

I felt Andrew rest his hand in my groin, but instead of holding my dick, he cupped my balls in his palm and massaged them magically. He had sensed I was on a very short fuse and wisely kept well away from my tool. Copying him, I felt the weight and texture of him, rolling his eggs around softly. Replacing my hand on his cock, I began to jack him off slowly.

“Stop!” he moaned, grasping my hand to emphasise his point. “I’m too close.”

Reluctantly I pulled my hand away and rested it on his hip.

“Lay back and relax,” he smiled. “Let me do all the work.”

I did as I was asked and stretched out in his bed, Andrew laying on his side, head resting on a crooked arm. Suddenly I sensed a hand on my chest, fingers tracing little circles. Slowly he moved across to a nipple and started to play with it. To my utter amazement, it stood up solidly and the whole area became intensely sensitive. After the initial gasp of astonishment, I started to moan with ecstasy, thrashing around from side to side in pure bliss. Once I thought I’d got used to it, he changed sides and repeated his ministrations.

In my naivety, I’d always assumed the centre of my sex lay in the groin. Andrew soon disillusioned me of that. His fingers, lips and tongue roamed over my whole body, each move finding yet another magical spot to take me to fantastic heights. Nipples, navel, thighs, all responded incredibly to his touch. Even my ear lobes and that most intimate of places, my butt, drove me wild when they were played with. Up ’til now I’d satisfied myself with a feel of my dick and balls: Andrew introduced me to a whole new world, one which I’d never have found by myself in a million years.

Turning to face him, I let my hands explore his superb frame, doing just as he did to me. Neither of us touched our dicks, or each other’s, except in passing from one miraculous zone to another, but they were still throbbing with excitement and leaking pre-cum as if there was no tomorrow.

“I gotta cum,” I stammered out eventually. “I’m gonna go mad if I don’t!”

Andrew grinned broadly and grasped my too-long ignored cock. He waited for me to take hold of him before we began a very slow, almost leisurely jerk-off. Me, I would’ve rushed at it and brought myself off in two or three strokes, but taking the lead from Andrew I made myself slow down.

The result was that I felt every stroke, every little movement of his hand and instead of a headlong rush into orgasm it built up slowly, like climbing stairs one step at a time. First the dull ache behind the balls, then the lifting of them, and finally the spasm as the first globule is ejected. It was painful, excruciatingly so, but once started it seemed to go on for ever, spurt after spurt of boiling cum firing out from my pulsating dick.

I fell on to Andrew, my head resting on his heaving chest. Dimly I was aware that my brow was beaded with sweat, my eyes unable to focus and my legs trembling. I’d been left with more energy after ninety minutes of hard soccer!

“Time is it?” I asked sleepily some time later.

” ‘Bout three thirty,” Andrew whispered. “You awake now then?”

“Have I been asleep?” I asked dumbly.

“Only five minutes,” he laughed. “Why? You gotta go?”

“Half an hour,” I said, snuggling down again. “That was bloody fantastic!”

“Glad you came?” he asked, lifting my head up to look at him.

I didn’t even try to work out whether he meant my coming or my cumming. “Yeah,” I smiled.

A few minutes later, Andrew slid out of bed, returning with a bowl of warm water, soap and a flannel.

“Can’t send you home smelling like a rat, can we?”

Lovingly, he washed me down, from neck to groin, allowing me to lay back and enjoy the treatment. He paid particular attention to my prick and balls of course, which had the inevitable effect. Surprisingly, he leaned down, gave my shaft a quick lick and kiss on the end of it.

“Next time,” he giggled enigmatically.

He helped me dress and hugged me tightly as I headed for the door. When he looked into my eyes, I had the distinct impression, again, that he wanted to kiss me. I wasn’t ready for this and to forestall him, gave him a quick hug.

“See you day after tomorrow?” I whispered in his ear.

“You bet!” he growled at me sexily.

The following day, feeling like a change of scenery, I wandered down to the sea front, part of me regretting that I hadn’t arranged to see Andrew today. I could’ve gone to see him at the cafe of course, but on reflection, decided that things were best left as they were – too much of a good thing and all that.

Adjusting the burgeoning erection in my trousers so it was more comfortable and less evident, I headed for the toilets at the end of the beach.

I knew that these toilets weren’t very good for people-watching as they were too well used for that, but they did still have a few attractions, notably the holes in the walls in strategic places which allowed you to spy on what was happening, and occasionally get a glimpse of a nice dick or two.

Entering the only vacant cubicle, I locked the door and sat on the bowl, loosening my pants and pushing them down to my knees. Taking my prick in my hand, I slowly stroked it as I checked out the holes. Nothing. The people at the stand-up all had their backs to me, and the next cubicle was being used by an old man who was having a crap. Idly, I scanned the graffiti on the walls; nothing unusual there, only the normal ‘meet me at seven’, ‘ring this number for sex’ sort of thing. My thoughts turned to Andrew and I began to jerk myself off a bit more seriously. I paused as the next door toilet was flushed and the old man left, to be replaced immediately by someone else. Curious, I put my eye to the hole and tried to see who it was.

It was a boy of about 15 who I recognised vaguely, probably from my school. He was wearing nothing but his swimming trunks, and wasn’t interested in having a dump. Instead he was stood up, facing me with his legs apart and his swimmers dropped to just below his balls. Unfortunately I couldn’t see his face and his dick through the same hole and I jumped between two holes a few times, getting a good look at him. I soon settled on the lower hole though, watching him jack off. He was almost hairless, with a beautiful well-proportioned cock, about four inches long, rising up from a pair of pink balls. His wanking technique was fascinating. Rather than work his hand up and down his shaft steadily, he gave it a few frantic rubs and then let it go for a few seconds before having another go: I guess it was his way of making the pleasure last as long as possible. Anyway, I held my breath as he carried on, my own hand following his, imagining that it was him jerking me off. Before long, the inevitable happened and we both held our breaths as he fired out half a dozen high- powered gobs of cum, much to his satisfaction as his moan testified. I was only a few strokes behind.

The reason for his self-abuse became clear a few minutes later as I saw him walking along the prom, holding hands with what I assumed to be his girlfriend. I wasn’t at all surprised at myself when I ignored her completely and satisfied myself with a good look at his groin, smiling to myself as I knew exactly what those red trunks covered up! Glancing at the girl, I felt just a bit envious of her as she had a much better chance of getting to know his cock than I did, if she didn’t already that is. Lucky girl! But then I knew a little more about him than she did: if only she knew what effect she’d had on him already!

I spent most of that evening trying to catch up on my reading. I’d bought several gay novels recently, mostly from the second-hand bookshops which were a good source of the older, out of print books. I’d got copies of ‘The Naked Lunch’ and ‘The Soft Machine’ by William Burroughs, which were supposed to be good, but I’d struggled with both of them, not really understanding what they were about. Much more to my taste was ‘The Swimming-pool Library’ by Alan Hollinghurst. This was much more to my taste, having quite a fast pace and far more comprehensible. After a slow, enjoyable wank, I drifted off to sleep with a collage of Andrew, the boy in the toilet and Hollinghurst’s Will Beckwith filling my mind.

The following morning it was the local college Open Day and I had to go and find out what courses were available, and which ones I could join. I’d almost made my mind up to enrol on a language and literature course and needed some more information.

I was sat in the cafeteria skimming through the prospectus when I became aware of someone joining me at the table. Glancing up, I was surprised to see one of the boys from my year at school smiling at me. Ashok (Ash to his friends) was Indian. Like me, he was into books and art; in addition he was easy-going and laid back. One of the few boys I felt comfortable with.

“Hi!” he grinned. “Mind if I join you?”

I soon learned that he had already enrolled for the same courses that I was thinking of, and as we talked, I made my mind up that I would join him – at least there would be someone I knew on the course. As we talked, I devoted part of my mind to what I knew about him. He was a bit taller than me, but less muscular, shiny black hair which was always perfectly groomed, and a nice, silky- smooth, olive-coloured skin. His cock and balls were nice too. Slightly darker in colour than the rest of him, his circumcised cock was thinner than mine, but an inch longer and hung over a pair of lovely-looking balls. There was very little hair on his body – in fact there was no hair at all in his groin, he was as hairless there as the day he was born, something that always aroused me incredibly every time I saw it.

Half an hour later, I’d completed the forms, enrolled myself, and was having another cup of coffee with Ash. We chatted about odds and ends for a while and after swapping mobile numbers, went our own ways once we’d agreed to meet up in the near future.

By the time I reached Andrew’s I was feeling very pleased with myself. It was only halfway through my holiday and I’d achieved a good part of what I’d planned. Andrew was now an important part of my life, I’d got myself into college and I was well on the way to finding out who I was.

I got to Andrew’s bang on time. Instead of getting down to things straight away, I was trying to be patient and take it easy. Instead of stripping down as soon as I was in the room, we sat on his bed together for quite some time talking of inconsequentials. I told him about the college, about meeting Ash and about the boy in the toilets. In return, he told me about a night out he’d had with his mates the night before, and a visit he’d made to his parents in the afternoon.

Parents were a difficult point. Deliberately I’d not mentioned mine as they were a problem I was avoiding.

“Do they know what you’re like?” I asked Andrew.

“Yes. I think they’ve always known, but it was never talked about until after I left school. Then one day mum came home early from work and found me in bed with my best friend.”

“Ohmigod!” I gasped. “What happened?”

“We didn’t talk for ages, but one day my dad told me that it’d be better if I left home and got a flat somewhere.”

“That was about two years ago,” he went on, ” I got this place and we didn’t see each other for about six months. Then we got together again and now things are more or less OK. They’ve said I can go back if I want to, but I don’t,” he grinned. “After all, I can have friends here whenever I like!”

With that he pushed me back on the bed and started to unbutton my shirt. Undressing each other I enjoyed, it lent an atmosphere of delicious eroticism to the adventure, each newly unfastened button revealing a few more inches of pink flesh to be caressed and stroked. Delicate fingers struggling to unclip a belt and slide the zip down. Soft hands searching for, and ultimately finding a hard, expectant prick still preserving its modesty beneath stretched underwear. Then the final act. The heart-stopping exposure of your body, goose-pimpled with desire, waiting with bated breath for hands to touch that most intimate, most private part of you. The lightening bolt of ecstasy as fingers wrap around your manhood.

Andrew and I snuggled up close, arms around our chests, legs entwined.

I was wonderfully, gloriously, euphorically happy as I nestled into Andrew, resting my forehead against his, my face beaming with delight. I giggled as I felt Andrew’s leg rubbing against my balls, our dicks dancing together.

Suddenly we were kissing, lips pressing together. We writhed around the bed, glued together, arms and legs desperately searching for bodily contact, chests heaving in unison, nipples obscenely erect.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Andrew murmured as we broke apart to regain our breath. “That was awesome!”

I pecked him once on the lips and lay back, still grinning. “Good, wasn’t it,” I said, glowing with self-satisfaction.

Taking advantage of my exposed chest, Andrew set to work on my nipples, teasing them with his fingers and tongue until they were gloriously hard and painfully tender. Moving down my body, he kissed and licked his way towards my groin, each brush of his lips sending shivers down my spine.

As he reached my throbbing cock, he took hold of it at the root and turned to look at me. The wicked grin told me exactly what he was going to do next. My body tensed, I grasped the sheets tightly and waited.

The touch of his tongue on my super-sensitive crown was astounding and I gripped the bedding even tighter. Slowly he absorbed my cock into his mouth, surrounding it tightly with his lips. He began to suck, gently at first, but then with increasing vigour. At the same time he masturbated me tenderly, building up to a rhythm that had me squirming uncontrollably.

“Tell me when you’re coming,” he whispered to me before resuming the torture.

I did. And thankfully he stopped before I deposited my seed in his mouth – not that I objected to that, but the thought of a powerful orgasm on top of how I felt now was too much.

“Your turn,” he smiled as he turned to face me, straddling across my chest, knees in my armpits. Tentatively I leaned up and allowed his dick to fill my mouth, wiping the shining drops of pre-cum off his crown with my tongue as I did. Not knowing in the slightest what it would taste of, I was delighted by the sweet, slightly acid taste of it. No stale piss, no rank odour, just a not unpleasant flavour of skin.

Once again we soon got a steady rhythm going, me sucking avidly and him fucking my mouth slowly and magically. It was heaven! Not as good as being sucked by him, but knowing I was satisfying him just as much as he had me added an extra thrill which more than made up for it.

To my disappointment, he pulled out after a while, leaving me with an empty, frustrated feeling.

“Now for the best bit,” he giggled.

With a bit of a struggle, we re-arranged ourselves so that we were stretched out head-to-toe on the narrow bed. I was then introduced to the sublime pleasures of 69’ing. That was much better!

We took our time delighting each other, changing positions once in a while, taking a break to have a kiss and cuddle, to feel each other’s warm body and simply to enjoy one another. Together, we found that there is nothing shaming or embarrassing about seeing and touching our naked bodies. Indeed, there was something comforting and calming about holding each other, hands roaming where they will, eyes taking in the tiniest detail, lips meeting to confirm a connection. Even after we’d cum for the second time, we still clung together, reluctant to lose contact even for a second.

Eventually we had to of course. Even in my post-orgasmic bliss, I realised that I had to leave soon. As I dressed myself, I kept staring at Andrew on the bed, naked and playing idly with his cock. Each item of clothing was donned reluctantly, every piece hiding a little more of my body which we’d so joyfully shared.

 

Part 2

Before I knew it, the holiday was over and I’d started college, which meant a major change in my lifestyle. Apart from anything else I wasn’t able to see Andrew at our usual time and had to change it to the early evenings when I was on my way home.

Apart from college, Andrew was the main interest in my life, to the exclusion of almost everything else. I was aware of this of course and was quite happy with it until I thought about it. He was taking over what should be my social life and I needed another interest to stop me getting into an unhealthy routine. Fortunately I had made a few acquaintances at college who took the edge off things, but it was Ash who I was growing more friendly with. Not sexually, which I wouldn’t have minded, but in a companionable, easy-going way which is what I should have had at school but always drew back from, stupidly I now know.

I haven’t mentioned my own family very much so far, and that has been deliberate. As far as I can work out, I was ‘a mistake’. They are both career minded and always have been. OK, they fed, clothed and watered me. Made sure I went to school and came home. In their own way, they loved me of course, and I them. But that was about it. Once I hit puberty, they more or less left me alone provided I was quiet and didn’t make any waves. Suited us all fine on the whole: we talked when we had to, solved problems over meals and went our own ways by and large. Hence I suppose the need for Andrew, and now Ash.

Talking of Ash, it was the third or fourth week of college when things began to change between us. Our friendship had grown stronger that I would have dared hoped for. We spent a lot of our free time together, either working or talking about people we knew. We’d even visited each other’s homes a few times, mainly to work together or to borrow books. His parents were nice, reasonably well-off and proud of their only child. The only odd thing about them was that they were intensely religious, unlike Ash. I hadn’t a clue what religion it was, apart from the fact that it was Indian, but they’d converted a small room into some sort of temple which always smelt of incense and had candles burning it in. When I mentioned this to Ash, he shrugged his shoulders and said something to the effect that ‘it was their religion and I’m not that bothered. I go along with it ’cause its easier’.

Anyway, Ash had invited me to join his family for a meal one evening. It was something like their Christmas or whatever and most of his family were going to be there.

“It’s going to be bloody boring if you can’t come,” he said. “There’s no one my age, and all they do is talk all night about the old days. Bores me stupid. The meal will be good though, and we can always piss off to my room afterwards out of the way.” Then added, “Why not stay the night?”

“After such an appealing invite, how can I refuse?” I laughed, “And yes, I will stay the night. Thanks.”

As you can imagine, it was the last bit that pleased me. There was little or no possibility of us doing anything together, but the chance of seeing him naked again and even sleeping in the same room was too good an opportunity to miss.

The meal was interesting, far better than the ones I had had in restaurants, but it went on for ages. There were about a dozen people there, the women dressed in brightly colours saris, heavily made up and weighed down with gold jewellery: I had the distinct impression that there was some sort of inter-family rivalry going on . The men were less decorative: sober suits and ties. What little jewellery they had on was expensive and displayed at every opportunity.

Despite their best efforts to involve me in their conversations, they always ended up speaking Hindi or Punjabi or whatever language they spoke. Apparently, few, if any, of the ladies spoke English.

After the meal was finished, the party divided – women in one room and men in another. Ash and I joined the men for a while, but once the cigars and drinks came out, we made ourselves scarce and went up to his room, not forgetting to grab a couple of bottles of wine on the way out. Neither of us were drinkers, but the chance of getting slightly pissed for free was too good to miss.

Glancing at the clock as the bedroom door was close, I was surprised to see that it was almost midnight, the meal had gone on for far longer than I realised but I wasn’t at all tired.

Whilst Ash opened the wine, I looked around his room. It was much like mine in many ways – a typical teenage boy’s room, although perhaps tidier than most. What impressed me was the enormous double bed which dominated the room.

“Bollocks to that lot,” Ash grinned as he handed me a glass. “Let’s relax.”

Without further ado, he stripped down to his waist and kicked off his shoes and socks. Smiling back at him, I threw my clothes on top of his and sipped the wine. What we talked about I’ve no idea, all I can recollect is that we were free and easy with each other, the chat flowing readily. All I do clearly remember is being unable to take my eyes from Ash’s flawless torso, and drinking enough wine to stay sober but loose a few inhibitions.

It was whilst having my final piss of the night in his bathroom, clad only in my underpants that things began to develop. What with having something of a hard-on, I was finding it difficult to piss in the bowl. It didn’t help when Ash came in and stood beside me, freed his limp tool and let his stream flow. We’d been in similar situations a hundred times before; sharing bogs was no big deal. And as normal, I looked down at him. What wasn’t normal was that I was springing a boner, and we were alone.

“Got a problem there Phil?” Ash grinned, nodding down at me.

“Sort of. Must be the effect you have on me!” I joked.

“Must be,” he replied. “Can’t be the wine, it’s non-alcoholic. We don’t drink.”

Tearing my eyes from his groin, I looked at his face to find that he was being serious. Slightly embarrassed, I returned my gaze to my own predicament and forced my bladder to drain itself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what was the beginning of Ash’s erection.

“Snap!” I giggled as I left him to finish.

Still in our underwear, we climbed into bed, facing each other, but a respectful distance apart.

“Ever have anyone else for sleep-overs?” I asked, making myself comfortable.

“Sometimes,” Ash replied. “We’re a big family and it gets a bit crowded sometimes. Usually its my cousin Imran I get stuck with.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s only eleven,” Ash giggled. “Doesn’t even know what its for!”

I laughed lightly and rested my hand on my now soft cock.

“Last time he was over, I woke up to find him having a good feel if you know what I mean.”

“What happened?” I said, my dick now coming to life slightly.

“Felt him back. Scared him shitless!”

We paused for a while, each with his own thoughts, until I summoned up the courage to ask him a question.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Yeah. Go ahead,” Ash replied, looking at me.

“Why don’t you have any hair, you know, down there.”

“Complicated question,” Ash smiled. “Short answer is that I shave them off. Long answer is that my religion has a weird attitude to sex. It doesn’t exist until you are married. Women are supposed to be virgins and totally ignorant of all things sexual until their marriage day. Men stay as boys until they marry, and only then can they let their hair grow. We’re not even suppose to know how babies are made.”

“Must make life interesting, ” I grinned.

“Tell me about it,” he laughed. “I had a wet dream once and my father found out. He went ballistic, telling me how bad I was and how I must learn to control myself. That I must’ve been having wicked, unclean thoughts!”

“How the Hell do you manage then?” I asked. “How are you supposed to learn stuff?”

“Ah. That’s where the weirdness comes in. One day I was taken out for a long car ride by my uncle. He was suppose to tell me everything I needed to know, but sort of secretly if you get what I mean. Trouble was that is was so embarrassed, he couldn’t even use the right words. It was all so pathetic, it wasn’t true. He spent so long talking all round it that if I hadn’t known what he was talking about, it could’ve been about gardening for all I knew. All he had to tell me was to have a wank once a day!”

By now we were both stroking our cocks discretely under the bed clothes, watching them rise and fall gently.

“I learned more in ten minutes from my cousin Raj than I did in hours from my uncle,” Ash went on. “All the boys in our family mess about with each other, same as they do back in India. It’s a sort of open secret: no one mentions it, no one is supposed to know it happens. But everyone does. They’re even glad in a way because it stops us chasing the girls. Or having wet dreams!” he laughed.

“So,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “If you and I were to, err, mess about for example, no one would mind?”

Ash laughed, and said, “They’d freak out. Within the family is OK, but outside of it is definitely out, at least it’s supposed to be,” he added with a grin. “One of my cousins told me about a friend of his who wouldn’t ever do anything at all. Eventually his father had to persuade someone to almost rape him to check that everything was working OK. So, the answer is no one would really mind if they didn’t know.” As he said this, he looked at me and gave me the slightest of smiles.

Reaching into his bedside cupboard, he pulled out an old T-shirt. “My secret weapon,” he grinned, holding the much abused and stained shirt up for me to see.

“There must be a year’s stuff on there,” I grinned, sliding my pants off.

“Not quite, It’s not all mine anyway!”

By now we were both naked and keen for things to get started. As we moved together, I was suddenly unsure of what to do. I’d learned a lot from Andrew, most of which would be abhorrent to Ash, and the last thing I wanted to do was annoy him. I decided to let him take the lead.

“Lift up,” he whispered, tapping me on the shoulder.

I leaned upwards to let him put his arm round me, more or less forcing me to do the same to him. Getting comfortable once again, our hands snaked their way downwards and took hold of our erections.

My hand sensed the heat and solidity of his cock for the first mind-blowing time. The fact that it was thinner than either mine or Andrew’s became evident straight away as my fingers tightened. As did the strange feeling of his cockhead and absence of skin.

“Feels nice, ” I moaned as he grasped me softly.

It was obvious that Ash was no novice. I don’t know how many other dicks that same hand had held, but he’d learned a lot however many it was. He spent as much time caressing my balls, between my legs and even round my butt as he did holding my shaft. Even Andrew could learn a thing or two from him.

For my part, the feel of a circumcised cock and hairless groin were intoxicating. I let my fingers drift around, searching for things which weren’t there, deriving an intensely erotic pleasure, echoed in my red-hot penis.

“Can I have a look?” Ash whispered, giving me a squeeze. “I’ve never seen an uncut cock before. Not close up anyway. And you’ve got hair!”

We threw the covers back and I spent a glorious ten minutes examining each other in minute detail. Looking at his cock, I saw that there was no scar or extra skin anywhere. To all intents and purposes, it was as if there’d never been a foreskin at all.

“Wonder how they do it?” I mused. “Must hurt!”

I jumped as Ash worked a finger under my foreskin and caught a nail on it. “Ouch!” I cried involuntarily.

“Sorry!” he grinned. “I suppose it’s much more sensitive than mine.”

Inspection over, we cuddled up again and pulled the duvet back over us. I toyed with his nipples with one hand as I began to masturbate him slowly with the other.

“That’s good,” he shuddered as I stroked his chest.

“Wanna cum yet?” Ash whispered softly.

“No, not yet. Why? Do you?”

“No. I like this. Let’s do it all night!”

“Let’s!” I sighed.

“Can I ask you something else?” Ash said seriously.

“Go on.”

“Are you gay?”

I’d been expecting this, and wasn’t surprised. And given the situation we were in and my promise to myself to be honest whenever I could, I told him.

“Yes. I think so. Probably. Do you mind?”

“What do you think?” he giggled, giving me another painful squeeze where it hurt most.

“Ouch!” I yelped playfully, returning the favour.

I was totally blitzed by the way in which he accepted my answer. No recriminations, no nasty comments, not even the slightest hint of distaste. He might just as well have been expecting it, as if he already knew, which he couldn’t have as I didn’t know myself until not long ago. But his total, unquestioning acceptance of what to most people would have been the kiss of death to a friendship was astounding.

“How about you?” I asked quietly.

“Don’t know. I like doing this sort of thing, but I’ve never done the other and so I can’t tell. In any case, its different for me than it is for you.”

“How so?”

“Well, its almost expected of me, as I said, when you’re my age, and even when you’re married it’s no big problem. Especially when you can’t do it with your wife ’cause she’s pregnant or something. We take adultery and rape much more seriously. The culture’s different in Britain. If ever the boys at school found out we were doing this, they’d skin us alive, after castrating us! People have a big hang-up with male to male sex in this country, like it’s a disease or something. And yet under-age sex, rape and adultery are far more common here than they are in India. So who’s to say what’s right or wrong?”

“But what if you’re grown up and gay?”

“Usually they get married anyway, but don’t live together properly if you see what I mean. The real gays, the ones who don’t marry are treated as a bit of fun really. No ostracism or anything like that, just different.”

“All the time we were talking, we were playing with each other, not leaving our dicks alone for a second, and I was ready to burst.

“Ready to cum yet?” I whispered.

“Thought you’d never ask!” he grinned.

We didn’t go frantic even then. Keeping up a slow, steady pace we masturbated together, arms round our shoulders and taking fantastic delight from each stroke. Then the all-too-familiar tingle started deep in my groin.

“Cumming!” I stammered.

The trick now is to ignore what your body tells you. Keep up the same steady pace, no matter what. The final orgasm is then really spectacular, massive and gut-wrenchingly painful. Physically knackering, but well worth it.

In the split second before we shot our loads, Ash pulled me into him, wrapping his legs round me and hugging tightly. The sensation of our dicks pulsating between us, and the heat of the warm spunk melding us together was the most exhilarating thing ever.

“Secret weapon time,” Ash grinned as he reached over and grabbed the once green shirt. “One thing about being bald is that it’s a damn sight easier to clean up,” he laughed as the rag was thrown at me.

***

We were having lunch in the cafeteria the following day when Ash asked me what plans I had for the evening. I sensed that this wasn’t just an idle question, there was something behind it. Andrew and I had arranged to meet in fact, but I hedged my bets.

“Nothing really. Why, wanna come over my place?”

He looked at me as if I was stupid. “Stay the night?” He asked, mouth full of hamburger.

“Love you to,” I grinned. “But better clear it first,” my heart racing at the unexpected turn of events.

I rang my mum at work, something I very rarely do unless I have to.

“Mum, can I have someone stay over tonight?” I asked.

“What? Oh, yes. Stay over. Who?” She was obviously busy, probably painting her nails.

“Madonna.”

“Oh, yes. Good. That’s alright.” She disconnected before I could thank her.

I waited thirty seconds before my phone trilled.

“Who?” she asked, now paying full attention.

“Ashok. You know, the boy I am at college with.”

“Oh. Yes. I thought for one minute you said Marilyn. That’s fine..”

I gave the thumbs up to Ash, who beamed back at me and reached for his phone. Whilst he was getting the OK, I sent a message to Andrew, begging of our date, blaming pressure of work. The reply I got was fairly obscene, the gist of it being that I’d better get my arse round his place tomorrow or else!

Evening meals were a bundle of fun at my house as a rule. Both mum and dad had company lunches and therefore saw no need to make a fuss at home. Frozen meals, take-aways and fish and chips were the norm. In five years since the kitchen was extensively and expensively modernised, I don’t suppose it’d seen more action than a normal family one sees in a month.

That night it was Chinese, which was usually one of the better ones: thank goodness she hadn’t chosen Indian!

After the meal was finished, mum went into her home office to do her solicitoring and dad went into his den to do his accounting. Or so I assume. They could have had boyfriends or mistresses in there for all I knew or cared.

“They’re weird!” Ash grinned as we sat at my desk sorting our college work out.

“I think they’re aliens,” I laughed. “Lost in space and time and just pretending to be human until they’re rescued!”

I gave Ash the guided tour of my room, pointing out the more salient points such as the desk, the bookcase and bed. Christ! I suddenly thought. The bed! It’s only a single, and even my parents might think something was seriously wrong if it was the only one used. Normally guests would use the spare bedroom, but that would defeat the whole object of Ash’s stay over.

“Bugger it!” I said in frustration. “You’re supposed to sleep in the spare room I guess. Fuck it!”

I very rarely swore, but I was royally pissed off.

“Wait. Come with me,” I said in desperation, kicking my brain in gear.

As I half expected, the spare bed hadn’t been made up. Grabbing a pile of sheets and blankets from the cupboard, I threw them at Ash and told him to take them to our room. Next stop was the attic. It took us a while to find what I wanted, but eventually found it.

“Here,” I grinned. “One portable, temporary bed, Ash for the use of.”

I dragged out my old sleeping bag which I hadn’t used in years, bought for a misguided attempt at becoming a Boy Scout when I was 13. Within five minutes we’d fixed up what hopefully looked like a usable bed to the casual observer.

“Parents?” Ash queried.

“Never,” I replied, but slipped the lock on the door anyway to make him feel comfortable.

“So, what now?” Ash said, his voice low and sexy.

I looked at my bed and back at him, eyes innocently wide.

“Piss off!” he grinned. “It’s only eight o’clock. Even I couldn’t manage twelve hours!”

“Worth a try,” I laughed, knowing he was right of course. “Take your shirt off for me instead?” I added seriously.

“You really are gay, aren’t you,” he giggled. But he took it off anyway.

“Only for you,” I said, stroking his chest and then removing my own shirt.

“What books have you got?” he asked, walking to my bookcase.

“Top shelf SciFi and horror. Middle ones general fiction and college books. Bottom shelf specials.”

He went straight to the bottom shelf and read the authors: “Besson, Burroughs, Fry, Genet, Hollinghurst, Holleran ….” he mouthed to himself.

“Don’t recognise any of them,” he said as much to himself as to me.

Sitting on the floor, he pulled out one or two at random and read the blurb, grinned slyly at me and checked out a few more. I took advantage of his pre-occupation and sat beside him, one hand on the back of his neck, stroking it gently. His only reaction was to smile at me.

“Are they all gay?” he asked.

“Mostly,” I grinned. “Either the book, the author, or both.”

“My parents would disown me if I took one of these home,” he said, flicking through ‘The Wild Boys’.

“But they’re all good literature,” I said. “Almost classics some of them.”

“Good literature means Shakespeare or Dickens in English and Naipaul or Narayan in Hindi,” Ash grinned, picking up another book.

“Bloody Hell!” he said as he found a salacious bit in Fry’s ‘The Liar’, which isn’t difficult.

I couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not, but I saw his cock harden and felt his temperature rise under my skin as he read the bit about the Daisy Chain Club.

Replacing the Fry, his eyes skittered along the books, trying to choose one.

“Which are best ones?” he said, running his hand down the shelf.

“Depend what you want,” I sniggered. “Onanism, group wanking, blow jobs, sodomy, rape? It’s all there if you know where to look!”

“Unbelievable!” he gasped. “Show me.”

“Take your trousers off first,” I giggled. “These books are only supposed to be read naked.”

“That’s blackmail.” he laughed.

“So? What are you?” I grinned, stroking his arm pointedly.

“Pervert!” he said, unfastening his belt.

We spent the next hour sprawled out on the carpet, wearing just our pants, skimming through the books and picking out the ‘best bits’ to read to each other.

My choices were a bit eclectic, quite deliberately. I chose the beautifully written seduction of the young Walker by Metcalf in ‘Now and Then’, the seduction of Alexander the Great by Bagoas in ‘The Persian Boy’, as well as other similar pieces. I chose not to show him the battle scenes from ‘The Wild Boys’, but we did find the oral sex piece in ‘Aelred’s Sin’ and even the brilliantly erotic buggering of the 15 year old Edmund by the 12 year old Kevin in ‘A Boy’s Own Story’.

After I’d read the last bit about Edmund and Kevin, I was ready for bed – and Ash.

As we shucked our pants off, I noticed with glee that we were both iron-hard and glistening with pre-cum. I don’t know about Ash, but I was as aroused as ever I’d been, my whole body crying our for intimate contact with Ash, to feel his flesh against mine, to feel his soft hand on my aching cock, to do whatever it took to satisfy my lust. Diving into bed, I almost dragged Ash in with me.

“Come on,” I urged desperately, embracing him viciously, “Let’s do something.”

I forced my hand down between us, grabbed his cock and started to jerk him off.

“Slow down,” he giggled, “We’ve got all night, and I want this to last.”

The shock of hearing him say this, coupled with the hand clamped on top of mine, brought me to my senses. Shit! I’d done it again. I took a deep breath and held it.

“OK,” I gasped once my heart had stopped pounding. “I’m OK now. Sorry!”

He stroked my cheeks with the back of his hand and smiled at me.

“I’ve got a cousin just like you,” he laughed. “Can’t wait. All over and done with in two minutes. No fun at all.”

“How many cousins you got?” I asked.

“Boys? Six, and before you ask, I’ve done it with all of them except little Raj, and he won’t be long I don’t think. How many you done it with?”

“Two,” I said. “You, and … a friend.”

“You poor thing!” he giggled. “No wonder you’re frustrated. You need more practice!”

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” I sighed.

“Everything comes to him who waits,” he said, “What sort of things do you do? Stuff we read in the books?”

“Sort of. Hand jobs. Feeling. Hugging. That sort of stuff. And kissing and blow jobs,” I added quickly.

“Not the other, then?”

“No. Not yet. I’m not sure I even sure want to. Must hurt like fuck,” I giggled. “What stuff have you done?”

“Like you, I guess. Mostly hand jobs, but I’ve had a BJ or two. We’re not really into much more than that. At least the other’s aren’t.”

I wriggled around slightly to see him better and continued to feel around his tackle. I couldn’t get enough of the peculiar sensation of a skinless cock and denuded groin, for some reason it turned me on incredibly. As did his tentacle-like fingers, currently probing my balls.

“Wish we’d met before,” I moaned, closing my eyes as a wave of bliss ebbed through me.

“Me too,” Ash sighed. “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve wanted this to happen.”

My eyes flicked open in astonishment and I stared at him, dumbfounded.

“What?”

Ash looked flustered for a second, aware he’d let slip something he’d rather have kept to himself. “I’ve fancied you for ages. That’s why I kept away from you in school, scared that you’d laugh at me or something. That, and other things.”

“What things?”

“Messing about with my cousins is one thing, that’s OK. But to do anything outside the family is a big step. Major, major problems if they even thought I was doing this, especially with a ….., with someone who wasn’t Indian. You think being outed at school would be bad. It’d be a hundred times worse at home.”

And I thought I had problems. At least my parents were disinterested in my social life as long as it didn’t affect them. It wouldn’t matter if they learned I was gay, probably be glad that they’d save money on a wedding!

“Shit!” I whispered. “Didn’t know it was as bad as that. I’m sorry.”

Ash smiled wryly. “I never would have believed that I could tell you all that. I wish I hadn’t.”

“Bollocks! I’m glad you did. Makes me feel special, makes me feel good. I’ve felt the same way about you for ages, but’ve been too shit scared to do anything about it.”

“Honest?”

“Honest.”

We lay together, embracing loosely and feeling a bit awkward as we thought things over.

“Do me a favour?” I whispered, stroking Ash’s neck.

“What?”

“Let me kiss you?”

Our lips met hesitantly. Experimentally. Tenderly. I got the most peculiar feeling in the pit of my stomach as we held each other, like a million butterflies having a party, and a dull ache in my chest. Nothing at all like when Andrew and me had kissed. That was sheer lust, an on-the-spur-of-the- moment thing. With Ash, it was better. Not even sexy in a way, just extraordinarily heart-warming.

“Again?” Ash grinned.

We kissed once more, a little more passionately this time, revelling inn the novelty of it. Our dicks (whilst still erect, had softened somewhat) twitched a bit as we relaxed in each other’s arms, staring at one another.

Spontaneously we broke into a fit of the giggles, the rather tense atmosphere dissipating instantly, much to our relief.

“Enough talk. What you wanna do?” Ash growled.

“Everything!” I growled back.

I squirmed across and lay on top of Ash, our foreheads touching, my legs outside his. Gently I started to rock up and down, the friction of our chests exciting our nipples. Somewhere beneath us, our dicks came to life and joined in the fun. Rolling over, Ash buried me under his beautiful body and carried on, our stomachs now slickened with pre-cum.

He leaned towards me and brushed my lips with his, the initial peck turning into a deep, lascivious tongue wrestle. One of us was moaning, I don’t know who, perhaps both. My arms clasped behind his back and I pulled him even closer to me.

“I thought your eyes were black,” I said after we separated.

“They are,” Ash replied.

“No. They’re very deep brown.”

“Pale blue,” he grinned, staring into mine. “Lovely pale blue.”

“That’s what my grandmother calls me, Blue Eyes.”

“Hey!” he said, thumping me on the chest. “We gotta get you a nickname!”

“Why?”

“All the boys in my family have got ’em. Sort of secret name.”

“What’s yours?”

“Sesa.”

“Meaning?”

“Rabbit,” he laughed. “And for you …… Kiran! Boys name. Means ‘ray of light’!”

“Piss off!” I grinned and hit him on the arm. Privately though, I was pleased. It was the first ‘official’ nickname I’d had.

“And one more thing,” Ash went on. “A top, top, top secret.”

“Go on,” I said, full of curiosity.

“Between us cousins, we have a special word we use if one of us wants a bit of, you know, fun.”

I leered at him, grinning broadly. “Tell me.”

“Jungli. Means wild. Like in wild animals.”

“Jungli. Kiran. Jungli. Kiran.” I tried the words out, getting used to how they felt.

“What do you call this?” I sniggered as I shook his penis.

“A boy’s best friend!” he grinned. “But in Hindi, we have lots of words for it, like in English. The proper word is lund. But it can be lingam, zubra or zabri. Sometimes even Abdallah, but we don’t use that much ’cause it sounds too much like Abdullah.”

“Fancy going a bit jungli now?” I asked, feeling like a bit of action.

We toyed with each other for ages, winding each other up until we were almost past the point of no return. We kissed and cuddled until our lips ached and our brains turned to mush. The bed clothes had long since fallen to the floor, and the sight of Ash’s shiny brown skin rubbing against my pale pink flesh was sublimely erotic. Kissing and licking my way down his body, I found my head just inches away from his coffee-coloured dick. Unable to resist temptation, I swirled my tongue round it, rejoicing in its perfection. I kissed his dark red crown, swallowing its nectar. I suckled it into my mouth, paused slightly and slid it into my throat. Ash was groaning loudly, his hands pressing on the back of my head, begging me not to stop. I straddled him, letting my cock brush against his lips. The moans subsided to a mewl as he took me in: I writhed as his tongue found my cockhead, screamed silently as he deep throated me. Coughed and spluttered as I swallowed his cum. Fucked his face as I fed him mine.

Afterwards we kissed, exchanging seminal fluids deliciously, tongues making sure not a drop was wasted. We collapsed against each other, totally spent and ecstatically happy.

“I could get used to that,” Ash whispered softly in my ear. “Very used to it.”

“And there’s no need for your secret weapon, either,” I smiled.

Needless to say, we didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. Once in a while, one of us would wake up to make sure we weren’t dreaming. To kiss the body next to you, to hold the flaccid member of your partner before drifting off again. By chance we awoke together sometime in the early hours, and wanked each other off lazily, licking the cum off each other’s hand.

College was given a miss the following morning, we would’ve been far too late anyway. By the time Ash and I had showered, aired my room and had breakfast it was well after ten o’clock. We parted at his house – he to change, I to go into town as I’d just remembered that I’d arranged to see Andrew.

It was a disaster. I wasn’t in a very good mood to begin with. There was no way I could continue seeing Andrew and Ash at the same time and I hadn’t a clue how to tell Andrew. I knew intuitively that Ash and me had something special going for us, don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. Maybe it was the butterflies I got in my stomach every time I thought of him; maybe it was that happy, smiling face of his which was never out of my mind for long; maybe it was the fun we had whilst having sex. I don’t know.

Andrew and I kissed for a while, and ended up in his bed, naked and cuddled up. The problem was that I couldn’t keep my dick hard. Despite Andrew’s best efforts and my trying my damnedest to keep it up, it always let me down. Realising that we were both wasting our time, I apologised profusely to him, pleading stress of work for my shortcomings.

To give him his due, he took it very well, telling me that it sometimes happens like that, and I shouldn’t blame myself. We kissed briefly at his door as I left, feeling as low as ever I’d been. I think we both knew we’d met for the last time. In an odd way, I felt sorry for both of us. Andrew had been my first, and for that I will ever be grateful. For Andrew, I was someone who filled a big gap in his life, who up until today made him feel happy. But we both knew it was sheer lust that drove us together and nothing more. Good whilst it lasted, but that was all.

I hate falling out with anyone. Hate parting on bad terms and so I was feeling less than happy with myself as I trudged away from Andrew’s. Needing some TLC, I texted Ash. “Pissed off. Can I come round?”

Five minutes later my phone buzzed.

“What’s wrong?” Ash’s worried voice asked.

“Can’t tell you over the phone. Can I come round?” Then added, “Don’t panic. It’s nothing to do with us.”

I could almost taste the relief as he absorbed this. “Yes, of course. Have you eaten?”

“Yes,” I lied. I couldn’t have eaten anything to save my life.

Just the sound of Ash’s concerned voice made me feel better and by the time I’d reached his house, I was in a more cheerful mood, pleased that we were to meet so unexpectedly.

In the privacy of his room, I explained the situation between me and Andrew, the whole gory mess. He listened sympathetically without comment, letting me get it out of my system. After I’d finished, he put an arm on my shoulder and gave me a little hug.

“Come on,” he said. Let’s go out.”

We ended up in a local bistro where we came across a couple of guys we knew from college, had a few games of pool with them and more Coke than I’d had in ages. I soon forgot my troubles and all-in-all we had a good time. What with one thing and another, I’d not been out like this for a long time, and by the time we headed for Ash’s house I was back to my old self.

There was still a lot of college work to do, our evening out having eaten into our ‘work time’ quite severely and so we settled down to work on the family dining table. It was very pleasant sitting with the family, and the time sped by without my realising it. Glancing up at the clock, I saw with horror that it was not far off eleven o’clock.

“I’d better go,” I said to Ash, gathering up my books. “Look at the time!”

“Why don’t you stay?” Ash’s father said. “It’s a bit late to wander the streets.”

Ash and I looked at each other. There was just the slightest hint of a smile on his face and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘why not?’ I thanked them all and ferreted out my mobile phone. It was too late to talk to my parents and so I sent them a text message to both of them, letting them know where I was. At the back of my mind, it registered that neither of them had tried to contact me to ask.

“This’s becoming a habit,” Ash grinned as we undressed for bed. “One I like!”

“Me too,” I answered, watching him. We’d hardly touched each other all day and I’d missed it.

We hugged, our lips touching lightly, crotches pressed together, separated only by the thin cotton of our underpants. Climbing into his bed together seemed the most natural thing in the world, as if we’d been doing it all our lives. We lay side by side, shoulders and thighs just touching, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Wanna read for a bit?” Ash asked.

“Naah, can’t be bothered.”

He turned the light out and we rolled over to face each other. Ash’s hand slid down and pushed its way under the elastic of my pants and came to rest on my dick.

“Just checking!” he whispered.

He made no attempt to do anymore than that, allowing his fingers to curl around my cock but stopping there.

I reached for his tool and sighed to myself as its warmth permeated my hand.

“You’ve made a good impression on my father,” Ash whispered. “He think’s you’re OK.”

“I’m glad. But we’ve hardly spoken.”

“He’s a good judge of character, and he’s watched how you behave and stuff. Besides, he knows your dad through the Rotary Club.”

That didn’t surprise me. We live in a small town and everyone seems to know everyone else, which is OK most of the time, but can lead to a few problems once in a while!

“He asked you to stay tonight. That means a lot; makes you an honorary cousin so to speak. He thinks you’re good for me!” he giggled.

“And aren’t I?” I said, tightening my grip on his dick.

“Oh yes. Very good. But not in the way he thinks!”

We nattered on until sleep began to overtake us. With a last cuddle and kiss, Ash turned his back on me and closed his eyes. I snuggled up as close to him as I could, my chest against his back, arm draped over him and my crotch resting against his butt.

Sometime during the night we’d swapped positions. Ash was leaning against my shoulders, his morning boner resting between my arse cheeks. I pushed my bum back and reached over to pull him in tighter.

“Pack it in!” I heard a voice whisper in my ear, followed by a kiss on my ear. “It’s too early for that. Besides, I might get to like it!

I rolled over and kissed him properly.

“Morning,” I yawned.

“Morning,” Ash sort of said – I’d learned already that he wasn’t a morning sort of person. He stumbled out of bed and went towards the bathroom, taking his wood out ready for his morning piss.

 

Part 3

College was a breeze. Ash and I settled down and actually enjoyed the work. We made a few friends with whom we had evenings out and had some good times. On the personal front, that too developed a steady routine. We slept over at each other’s houses two or three times a week and not always to have sex! Our parents became so accustomed to our comings and goings that they stopped bothering where we were staying. I preferred Ash’s place to mine – I liked the family atmosphere and happy disruption when a member of the family turned up unexpectedly.

Ash liked mine for almost the opposite reasons. The orderly life, tranquillity and routine pleased him.Visitors were rare and always by appointment. I always made sure I stayed with Ash on those nights, which probably pleased my parents as much as me.

Our sex life was far from routine however. Once in the privacy of our own room, whichever it was, we always stripped down to our undies. This we found was much more erotic than actually being naked, and erections were the norm. We couldn’t resist touching one another constantly, our hands resting on each other even when we worked at the table. It wasn’t unknown for us to take a break from the table to have a smooch fest, delightful BJ or hand job and then get back to work feeling very much better. In bed, we simply did what we felt like. Often, we didn’t do anything at all except cuddle, hands in each other’s groin as if claiming possession. Sometimes we hardly slept at all, spending the whole night pleasuring each other in whatever way we liked. I knew his body better than my own, every curve, every muscle fixed permanently in my brain.

It was one night on a sleep-over at his place that we confirmed our adoration for each other. He’d been scratching at his balls all day, eventually confiding that it was time he shaved again. He was in his bathroom getting ready to do the necessary when I wandered in to watch him. I sat on the toilet, gazing at his crotch as he lathered it up, the white foam looking like the pubes of an old man. Shaving yourself down there isn’t easy. Apart from the fact that you can’t see properly, you have to hold the razor at an awkward angle. Cuts and nicks are inevitable. After one or two swipes with the razor, he unexpectedly handed it to me.

“You do it,” he grinned. “It’ll be easier.”

“You trust me with a razor near your ‘nads!” I giggled, twirling it in my hand.

“You’d be the loser if anything fell off,” he smiled.

I looked at him once more before I started. The look he gave me was one he’d never given me before. Not only was there complete trust in his eyes, but something else as well. I knew why he shaved of course, and felt sorry for him. Not being allowed to shave your pubes until you’re married is cruel. I also realised that in his own way, he was offering himself to me. Asking me to do it for him was offering me something more than just friendship.

“I wish I didn’t have to shave,” he said quietly staring into my eyes, his hands on my shoulders.

“So do I,” I whispered as he stood in front of me, legs apart.

It’s impossible to shave around a man’s ‘nads without raising an erection. It’s also impossible to complete the job properly, but I ended up only nicking him once. Taking the towel in my hand, I cleaned him up, making sure I got every last speck of soap off him. Throwing the towel to one side, I inspected my handiwork. He took a step towards me, tapping the back of my head at the same time. I did the only thing possible. The smell of the soap, the feel of his newly shaved skin and the urgent thrusting of hip hips soon did their job, and I swallowed his cum joyfully, accompanied by animalistic moans from Ash.

There was no need for second thoughts. Picking up the shaving foam, I gave it to Ash, together with the razor.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Never more sure,” I whispered. “Please?”

We changed places and Ash set to work.

I watched, fascinated, as my bush slowly disappeared. I’d spent the best part of thirteen years waiting for it to appear and four more years watching it grow into something to be proud of. Now it was disappearing down the sink! And I didn’t care.

Ash finished me off just as I had him, my load of love juice shooting out almost before he’d got my cock in his mouth. Didn’t matter though because we jerked each other off again ten minutes later, just in time for tea.

***

“You gotta stay over on Friday night,” Ash said excitedly as we met on Thursday morning. “You gotta save my life.”

“Why? How?”

“My parents are going to London to see my uncle and unless I can get out of it, I’ll have to go as well.”

“Why don’t you tell them that I’d planned to stay the night?”

“Can’t. They’d think we’d planned it, dad would say no. You gotta think of something.”

It’s amazing how devious two 17-year olds can be when they put their minds to it. Within half an hour we’d come up with what we hoped would be a workable plan. I knew my dad was going to an accountant’s bash of some sort and wouldn’t be home until late. Mum never went to them unless she had to, but this Friday she was, whether she knew it or not.

I explained the problem to Ash’s dad over the phone, adding that we’d planned to work on a big essay that night, and if I was at home I’d have to go to a boring accountant’s dinner.

It only took a minimal amount of persuasion for him to agree, the only proviso being that Ash had to go next time.

I made a particular point of making a fuss of Ash’s mum and dad on Friday night, thanking them effusively for saving me from a night of torment, I don’t think he believed me completely, but nevertheless he was happy enough.

“Why do I feel like a baby-sitter?” I laughed as we spread our books out on the table.

“Piss off!” was the only reply.

An hour later, we were still hard at work, shirts off and brows furrowed when the door bell rang, making us both jump.

“Who the Hell’s that?” Ash said irritably, throwing the pen down.

At the door was an Indian boy of about 13 or 14, carrying what looked suspiciously like an overnight bag. His face was wreathed in smiles and I’m sure he was going to hug Ash until he saw me. The smile faded slightly, but not by much.

“Hiya Ash!” he grinned, stepping into the hall.

“Hiya yourself!”, Ash replied, looking puzzled. “What’s going on?”

“Staying the night. No one told you?”

“No. You can’t. There’s no one here. My mum and dad are in London. Phil and I are working.”

“But it’s been arranged,” the boy said, sounding disappointed. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

We went into the living room and picked up the family diary. Quite clearly under today’s date were two words: ‘London’ and ‘Razak’.

“Shit!” They must’ve forgotten.

Razak’s shoulders drooped, and the previously cheerful face fell into one of complete dejection. I felt sorry for him; it must be awful to look forward to something as much as he obviously was, only to be let down at the last second. There was a quick conversation in Hindi before Ash turned to look at me and said, “Would you mind if Raz stayed? His parents are away for the night as well.” He also gave me an enormous wink.

” ‘Course not. It’s your house.”

The beam returned to Raz’s face instantly.

“Sorry,” Ash said. “Introductions. “Phil, Raz. Raz, Phil. Raz’s my cousin. Phil’s my best friend.”

I blushed slightly at this, partly because I was embarrassed, but mostly because he called me his best friend.

“You’d better ring your parents and tell them what’s happened, just in case,” Ash said to Raz.

Another short conversation in Hindi ensued as Raz spoke to his parents.

” ‘S OK,” he said. “I can stay. They trust you to look after me!”

Was I wrong, or was there an edge to this that I had missed? Certainly Ash and Raz were happy as they grinned at each other. They were cousins after all, which set my mind working.

“OK, house rules,” Ash said. “First no shirts. Second, no Hindi. Phil doesn’t understand.”

“OK,” Raz said. “Any more?”

“Not yet, but I’ll think of some later.”

Without further ado, Raz whipped his shirt off and threw it across the room.

“Eaten yet, Raz?” Ash asked.

“Nope. What you got?”

“Pizza or pizza. Take your pick.”

“Pizza. Indian style.”

“OK. Come on, Phil, let’s do it.”

As we were pottering about the kitchen, Ash said quietly, “You’ll like Raz. He’s the randy one, nickname’s Abdallah, called Abdo. Leave things to me. We might have a good time!”

Indian style pizza, I learned, meant sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, with a pile of pizza slices covered in a sweet, spicy sauce on the floor between us.

As we ate, I took in Raz. He was about six inches shorter than Ash, with black, slightly curly hair and the faintest hint of a moustache over his top lip. His skin was very similar to Ash’s, slightly darker if anything, the only mark on his body being a tiny appendix scar. Sitting as he was, I had no idea what his jeans hid unfortunately.

To start with, Raz and I didn’t talk much, but after a while and with Ash’s help, we were soon talking easily. He had a glorious sense of humour and was also quick witted. He was also more intelligent than me and Ash.

At around ten o’clock, Raz became fidgety, crossing and uncrossing his legs, staring at Ash as if waiting for something to happen.

“OK, Raz,” Ash said at last. “What you got?”

Gleefully, Raz sprang up and emptied the contents of his bag on the floor in front of us.

“Stargate, Dr Who, Spaceship Earth, ……..” Raz said as he flicked through the CD’s.

“He’s a SciFi nut,” Ash said. “As you can tell. Come on then Raz, let’s go for it. We could be in for a jungli night.”

Raz’s head whipped round and he stared at Ash, looking shocked.

“Abdo, meet Kiran; Kiran, meet Abdo.” Ash grinned broadly, fully aware of the fright he’d given Raz.

“Will you excuse us for a minute,” Ash said to me. “I think I need to explain a few things to my cousin.”

I watched as Raz’s features changed from shock to understanding, from understanding to agreement, and from agreement to happiness. He looked at me in a new light, and gave me a wicked grin.

“This’s gonna cost you,” Ash whispered to me as Raz packed his CD’s back in his bag.

“What?”

You’ll find out,” he said annoyingly.

Raz and Ash followed a well established routine once we were in his bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the door closed, Raz turned the main light out and the bedside one on. Ash inserted a CD in the player and threw the remote on the bed.

“House rule two,” Ash said as he stood up. “No shoes, socks or trousers.”

Raz looked embarrassed as he unfastened his belt, but he’d obviously been prepared for this. He was still a little nervous though as he looked from Ash to me, his eyes fixed on our groins. As were mine on his. He skinned his chinos off and stepped out of them, leaving him dressed only in his blue patterned boxers. Under them I could at last see what was a good-sized package for a 13 year old.

We sat cross-legged on the bed, backs against the wall, with Raz between us, our thighs squeezed against each other. Wonderful! He pressed the ‘start’ button and the TV screen was filled with the ‘Stargate’ logo.

“Wait!” yelped Raz as he paused the video. He jumped off the bed, searched through his bag and produced a pair of joss sticks. Once they were lit, he squirmed his way back between us and said, “That’s better!”

It was difficult for me to watch the film with a near-naked young boy next to me, but I did my best, but without much success. Tentatively I dropped an arm across Raz’s shoulders and was rewarded with a smile as he relaxed into me. My cock began to get even harder, the end of it clearly marked by a growing circle of dampness.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ash tracing patterns on the inside of Raz’s thigh, working his way up into his crotch. Twice Raz batted his hand away, glancing at me to see if I’d noticed what was happening. At the third attempt, Raz gave up and allowed Ash’s hand to slip inside the leg of his boxers. I felt rather than heard Raz sigh as Ash obviously found his target. He sighed again as he put his hand down Ash’s Y-fronts.

I watched their game, getting more and more frustrated as I saw hands gently vibrating in the dim light. Trying my utmost to ignore it, I started at the TV. The combination of incense, dim lights and the proximity of a young teenage boy getting it off with my best friend was too much and I slipped a hand into my pants.

Not for long though. The first episode of Stargate finished and hands were freed as Raz fast- forwarded to the start of the next one. Before settling down again, Raz leaned across me to switch the light off. I gasped as I felt his nipples brush mine, and a hand fall onto my erection. It was no accident though, it stayed there when he leant back.

I almost died when I felt him search for my waistband and slide his hand under it. Moving down the bed to give him more room, I smiled at him. Then his delicate fingers hit the spot where my pubes should’ve been. They stopped. Searched a bit more, and stopped again. He turned to Ash and whispered something in his ear. Ash sniggered and whispered something back. Raz turned his face to me, bit his bottom lip and grinned wickedly before allowing his fingers to explore further.

Then he found my foreskin. I think he must have been prepared for this because it didn’t seem to shock him as much as the absence of pubic hair. Didn’t stop him playing with it though. He pulled it, pushed it, twisted it and generally abused it, but I did stop him from trying to slide it over my cockhead, it hurt too much. The rest of it was sheer, unadulterated bliss.

Without taking his hand off my cock, Raz turned to Ash and whispered to him again.

“Randy sod!” Ash laughed. “OK. Rule change. No clothes!” Catching my eye, he added quietly, “Payback time!”

Before we did anything, Raz bounced off the bed and changed the CD.

“Four half hour episodes,” Ash explained. “Change of activity every half hour!”

Raz knelt on the bed between us, his eyes glistening. “After three. Three!” He laughed.

Instantly three pairs of underwear were thrown across the room. I stared in utter amazement at Raz’s cock. It was huge. At least compared to mine and Ash’s it was. It must have been at least an inch longer, and somewhat thinner.

“Now you see why’s he’s called Abdallah!” Ash giggled. “That’s more than one man should be allowed.”

Raz was quite rightly proud of his weapon, and waved it at us gleefully.

“Makes up for Imran’s,” he giggled cheerfully.

“He’s only eleven,” Ash said. “Doesn’t count.”

“Can I have a look?” Raz asked, looking at me.

“Be my guest,” I grinned, lifting my hips up slightly.

Once again I was subjected to an intimate inspection of my ‘nads.

“I should charge for this,” I said to Ash. “How many cousins have you got?”

“You could make a fortune, I’m on ten percent!”

Reaching over, I stroked Ash’s cheek and dropped my hand to his cock. Ash came towards me and kissed me lightly on the lips, unseen by Raz who was far too busy doing other things. We kissed again, deeper, tongues waltzing together. Until Raz tried to slide my skin down again. I almost bit Ash’s tongue off as the pain hit me.

“Here,” I said. “Let me show you.”

I slid back up the bed and spread my legs. Raz picked up the bedside lamp and turned it on. Might as well be on the stage, I thought to myself as both Raz and Ash closed in to watch.

“It’s easier when it’s not hard. When you’ve got a boner, you gotta stretch the skin and unless you do it right, it hurts like fuck.” I showed them twice. Then Ash had a go, and then Raz.

“Neat! Why you got a skin though?” Raz asked, still playing with it. “A lot of the boys at school have them as well.”

“Born with it, silly!” I laughed. “Most people I know have one. It’s there to protect your dickhead. You only get it cut off if it gets too tight, or your parents want you circumcised.”

Raz alternated his gaze from his cock to mine, comparing them.

“Ours are cut off to keep your dicks clean,” he said. “How do you keep yours clean?”

“In the bath or shower. Roll back the skin and wash it.”

“Wanna look at mine?” Raz giggled as he shuffled up the bed, aiming his monster at me, putting it dangerously close to my lips.

He hadn’t been cut as well as Ash, there was a ridge of hard flesh encircling his shaft, looking like a pink collar on a brown rod. I put my hand on it, feeling its width. As soon as I did this, Raz began to fuck my hand, bucking in and out. I kept my hand still, watching.

“He likes that,” Ash sniggered. “Says he can control when he cums better!”

Raz flopped back on the bed, taking a cock in each hand.

“I like this. Two for the price of one. Like Tesco’s!” Turning more serious, he said, “You sleep here a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. How did you guess?”

“Draw there with your name on it, silly!”

Ash and I stared. I’d been keeping some spare clothes in there for ages, but had never noticed that Ash’s mum had stuck a label on the front with my name on it.

“Is that why you shaved off your pubes as well?”

Ash interrupted before I could form an answer. “Too much information, you randy bugger. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Raz blushed at this, the implication not being lost on him.

“Sorry!” he giggled. “But it’s brilliant! We can have threesomes whenever we like!!”

“I give up!” Ash moaned in desperation. They exchanged a single word in Hindi and kissed each other on the cheeks. Raz turned round to me, gave me two kisses on the cheeks and an enormous grin. Ash nodded at me unsmiling. I knew then that our secret was safe.

The next hour was a wonderful melee of arms, legs, mouths and dicks. Hands were everywhere. Cocks were blown, sucked, felt and masturbated in glorious abandon. Eventually, it was me who came first, shooting my load onto Ash’s hand, much to Raz’s delight.

“Secret weapon time!” he giggled as he cleaned us both up.

The weapon, I noticed, was a new, clean one.

I was then treated to an incredible act of agility. Raz sat astride Ash’s legs and began to jerk him off. He put my hand round his cock and started to fuck it at the same time. I could see the sheen of sweat glistening on his body as he worked, his eyes glazed and mouth wide open. It was an amazing sight, Raz obviously in a world of his own, eyes tightly closed and an intense look on his face as he thoroughly enjoyed himself.

They erupted simultaneously, Ash’s cum flying high in the air, Raz’s spraying Ash’s body from head to chest. It was incredible to watch, a vision I’ll never forget, especially as I wiped them both dry. The amount of jism was phenomenal – now I know why the weapon was so stained!

Once the TV was turned off, somehow we managed to bundle ourselves up in one confused tangle of limbs and we drifted off into light dozes. At least I thought we did. In the darkness I felt a hand, which could only be Raz’s, searching for my limp dick. Once he’d found it, he soon had it hard again though. He was facing Ash as he pretended to sleep, but managed to wriggle himself down until my dick was level with his butt. Gently, he placed my cock against his hole and tried to get me to enter him. I should’ve been shocked at this, but to my shame, I actually wanted it. Twice I tried but failed. For one thing, I was afraid of waking Ash.

“Fingers,” I heard Raz moan faintly.

I pressed a finger against his rectum and to my amazement, it slid in straight away with no resistance at all.

“More,” he whispered.

Two fingers.

“OK,” I heard. “Nice.”

I wriggled them about until I hit his prostate, causing him to jump slightly.

“Again!” he moaned.

I kept it up until he produced his second orgasm of the night, his juices going I know not where. I had mine, hand-driven, two minutes later, the mess being licked off my fingers in the absence of the weapon.

When I awoke much later, it was to find that sometime in the night Ash had ended up in the middle, facing me. He had an arm thrown across my chest and a hand on my cock, stroking it slowly.

“Morning!” he mouthed.

“Morning,” I whispered back, leaning in to kiss him.

“Gotta piss,” he grinned, struggling to get off the bed. “I’ll have a shower too.”

After he’d gone, I lay back, staring at Raz curled up in front of me. His eyes opened and blinked confusedly until he remembered who I was.

“Where’s Ash?” he yawned, stretching out.

“Shower.”

He looked at me, glanced at my semi-hard cock and whispered, “Time for a quick one?”

I didn’t really have a choice as he took my hand and dropped it on his boner.

“Hurry up,” he moaned. “Before he gets back!”

Doing as I was told, I set to work. Raz lay back, eyes closed and a beatific smile on his face.

It didn’t take long before his already engorged dick swelled up and ejected a fair amount of cum, bearing in mind he’d done it twice not very long ago.

“Best one of the day!” he giggled as he rolled over to face me, and cuddled up close.

“Come on you two,” Ash said coming out of the shower. “Sort yourselves out. What time you getting picked up, Raz?”

” ‘Bout nine,” he said sitting up, his dick hanging softly between his legs for once.

“Half an hour!” Ash informed him.

There followed a frantic search for clothes, the contents of Raz’s overnight bag and a quick shower. By nine, he was more or less presentable and ready to go. Just as his father pulled up to collect his son, Raz gave us both a familial kiss on the cheeks and a quick, rather pleasant grope! Ash and his uncle had a few words, thanks were exchanged and Raz was driven away.

“You’ve made a hit there,” Ash said once we were back in the house. “I think Raz is in love with you!”

“Bollocks!” I grinned and gave him a hug.

We spent the morning tidying the house up and washing the bedsheets – and the secret weapon! By mid-day we were sat on the sofa watching TV and having a snack. I was still a bit worried about what Raz and I had got up to without Ash knowing, and was turning it over in my mind wondering what to do about it, if anything, when my phone buzzed to let me know I’d got a message.

I read it, pulled a face, and showed it to Ash.

‘Kiran: Wanna meet for jungli time? Don’t tell Sesa. Abdo.’

“Told you!” he laughed, throwing the phone back to me. “The boy’s in love!”

“What do I do?” I asked.

Ash took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged his shoulders, eyes shining with humour.

“Come on, help me,” I begged.

“Welcome to the chakra, the circle,” he grinned. “Raz’s infatuated with you would be my guess and now he knows you’re an honorary cousin, he wants to do stuff with you. You’re new and you’re good-looking. And you’re white!” he laughed.

“But …..” I started

“But nothing,” said Ash, putting an arm round my waist. “Do you want to meet him or not? No, don’t answer that, let me put it another way. If you hadn’t been here last night, what do you think would’ve happened?”

“Same sort of thing between you two I imagine.” I said after a moment’s pause.

“And would you have minded?”

“Not really I guess. He’s your cousin after all.”

“What happens if he comes round again, or another cousin turns up. Would you mind then?”

“No.”

“Exactly. What I do with them, or what you do with Raz, is only a bit of fun. Half an hour’s excitement, that’s all.” He paused, gaze at me and put a hand on my cheek. “What we’ve got is a lot more than that. Much more. You know that.”

I felt myself choke up and tears fill my eyes. Before he could see them, I kissed him tenderly.

“I love you,” I whispered in his ear.

“I love you too,” he replied. “Don’t you think that gives us enough problems without adding any more to them?”

I let my head drop to his chest and squeezed him.

“What we gonna do?” I said quietly

“Fuck knows.”

 

Part 4

I decided to meet with Raz for several reasons: he wanted to, I wanted to, and given the weird rules of the chakra, I shouldn’t refuse unless I had a good reason. Having made my mind up, arranging it was something else. The most I could hope for was my parents to go out for an evening, but that wouldn’t happen. We did keep in touch though, mainly because I was still young enough to remember what it was like at his age, to have a crush on someone and not be able to do anything about it. To begin with, we exchanged a few text messages, then spoke on the phone. He was a bit pissed off when I told him how difficult it was for us to get together, but understood and went along with it after I promised to keep trying.

Ash thought the whole situation with Raz was amusing. Every time we got together, especially in bed, he somehow managed to work him into the conversation, knowing how I felt about it. I didn’t mind much because at least it was in the open and not swept under the carpet. The other thing in the open was the close friendship Ash and I had. No mention was made of the implied sexual aspect of it, at least not in our presence. At college, we’d been connected together ever since day one, and whenever any of our friends saw one of us, they knew the other wouldn’t be far away. Members of the chakra, his cousins, also knew of our closeness, and assumed that there was some sexual element in it. Whenever one of the group spoke to Ash, the second question, after asking how he was, was how I was keeping. Except the indefatigable Raz who asked after me first.

The biggest shock of all came from my father. One Sunday he’d asked me to go out for a drive with him, not that that was unusual in itself, but I was asked in a tone of voice which I knew brooked no argument. To start with everything was OK, we chatted about college, plans for the future and that sort of stuff. When we stopped for a pint of lager at a country pub, he took us outside and we sat on a picnic bench away from the crowd.

“How’s things with you and Ashok?” he asked, staring into his pint.

Alarm bells began to ring. Whenever dad used full names, there was trouble about.

“Fine,” I said. “We get on OK.”

“You’re seeing a lot of him, aren’t you?”

There it was. The Question. I’d been prepared for this for ages and had all sorts of evasive answers ready, but instead of saying anything, I blushed deeply and fixed my eyes on the table.

“I see,” he said after an interminable silence.

“It’s not what you think,” I began to stumble out, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand as he took a gulp of his drink.

“Your mother put it together before I did, women have a sixth sense about that sort of thing, don’t ask me how they do it, but it’s frightening sometimes. I take it that it’s serious then, not just a, a, ” he struggled for the right words. “A passing phase as they say.”

“I don’t think so.” Then it all came gushing out; lock, stock and barrel.

Not about Andrew or Raz but about me and Ash. How we’d got together at college and how things had somehow led from one thing to another, and how we felt about each other. As I got it all off my chest, I began to feel better, more confident in my feelings for Ash. And, best of all, how at last I could tell someone how I felt, even if it was my father.

“Go and wash your face,” dad said when I’d finished. “You look like a strawberry! We’ll risk another pint I think. We deserve it.”

By the time we’d settled down again, we felt more comfortable with each other.

“What we going to do?” I asked, meaning me and the family.

“Nothing. I’m just glad we’ve talked about it. At least it’s saved me the ‘birds and bees’ talk,” he grinned. “Whatever you do us alright by us, at least as far as you and Ash go. Just remember we’re both there for you. What about Ash’s family?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think they know about us yet.”

“I know his father, did you know? He thinks a lot about you and is pleased that Ash has a friend outside of their community.”

The conversation drifted away from me and my problems and we spent what turned out to be one of our best days ever. I saw a new side to my father that impressed me; tactful, diplomatic and understanding.

“Where are you staying tonight? Dad asked. “I can’t keep track these days.”

“With Ash I expect. I’d planned to anyway.”

“Good Leave your mother to me. I’ll talk to her tonight. Don’t panic though, she won’t be hearing anything she’s not expecting.”

***

It was with some trepidation that I went to Ash’s house that night. He had to be told of course, but I was dreading it. Once we were in his room, I sat, following him with my eyes as he tidied up.

“What’s biting you?” he asked as he put his clean shirts away.

“I’ve got something to tell you. You’d better sit down.”

He dragged a chair across the room and sat on it backwards, his arms folded.

“My parents know about us,” I stammered. “My dad talked to me today and asked what was going on.”

Before Ash could interrupt, I told him the whole story, finishing up by making sure he understood that nothing had changed between us, that in fact, they were better because at least we didn’t have to hide it any more, not in my parents company anyway.

Ash came across and gave me a much needed hug.

“I wish I’d been there,” he giggled. “You must’ve been pissing yourself.”

“Sort of,” I laughed. “But I’m OK now.”

We were snuggled up in bed later that night when I brought the subject up again.

“What about your mum and dad?” I asked. “You gonna tell ’em?”

“Naah,” he grinned. “No need. It’ll dawn on them eventually. Telling them would only piss ’em off and they’d ground me forever. And throw you out!” he added. “Better to let ’em find out slowly, that way they’ll leave us alone and save their consciences.”

We kissed a few times and were just about to go to sleep when I heard Ash say, “Unless Raz tells them of course!”

“Bastard!” I laughed and gave his balls a squeeze.

We saw Raz in fact a week later when he and his parents came over to Ash’s for a meal. I wasn’t there for the actual meal, but arrived not long after, much to Raz’s delight. It didn’t seem polite to leave the family so we three boys played Scrabble on the dining room table whilst the adults talked. I could tell by Raz’s fidgeting that he had a lot more on his mind than a word game, but luckily he was in no position to do much about it. I got the sheep’s eyes though and the occasional hand in my crotch when no one was looking except Ash.

Between games, Ash had gone to the kitchen to get us some cold drinks, and came back with two tins of Coke and a glass of what looked like barley water for Raz. At the first sip, Raz looked puzzled, then took another one and pushed the glass to one side.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Ash whispered something in his ear which made Raz blush (you can tell because his ears turn redder I’d learned), and then cough.

“Sorry!” he spluttered as the adults looked at him. “Went down the wrong way.”

Ash grinned at Raz and rolled a Coke across the table.

“What you say to him?” I asked.

“Put some salt in the barley water and told him it was all the jizz you’d made thinking of him!”

“Bastard!” I grinned.

Raz wasn’t impressed. In fact he was pissed off with Ash and it showed. He’d hit what was obviously a raw nerve and Ash was regretting it. Desperate remedial action was required.

“Come on,” he said, “Let’s go listen to my new CD.”

All three of us trolled upstairs into Ash’s room.

“Sorry,” Ash said to Raz, “Didn’t mean to piss you off. It was only a bit of fun. OK?”

Raz nodded, but glanced fiercely at me for some reason. What had I done?

“Could you get my bag for me?” I asked Ash, nodding in the direction of the door.

He took the hint and left us alone.

“You told him!” Raz spat out.

“No, I didn’t. Promise. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Honest?”

“Sure,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “He was just having a bit of fun at our expense. I didn’t know about it either.”

We were hugging each other when Ash came back and threw my bag on the bed. In response to his raise eyebrows, I nodded an OK.

We listened to a few tracks, chatting about nothing special when Raz let it be know that he was on half term the next week. This was of little interest to Ash, but I got a ‘do something about it’ look from Raz.

“Where do you live?” I asked casually, a vague plan forming in my mind.

He named an area across the other side of town; far enough, but not impossibly far, after all it is only a small place.

“I can get a number 9 bus straight here,” he added. “Where do you live?”

“Hazledene Drive, up near the hospital.”

“I know it,” he grinned. “Off the London Road.”

“That’s it. Number 20.”

“Brill!” he said, then realised he’d exposed himself and blushed gracefully, but smiled nevertheless.

We changed topic again and were idling the time away when his mum tapped on the door and came in without waiting to be asked I noted.

“Come on, Razak,” she smiled. “Time to go. Say goodbye to Ashok and Philip.”

He stood up, hugged Ash and kissed him on the cheeks. Thankfully, he just shook my hand rather formally and gave me a huge wink.

“See you soon I hope,” he said as he left.

An hour later I was unfastening the buttons on Ash’s shirt when he said, “I dropped a bollock with Raz, didn’t I.”

“Sure did,” I whispered as I kissed his gorgeous brown nips.

“What upset him so much?” he said, taking my T-shirt off.

“He thought I’d told you about him wanting us to meet.”

“Oh, shit!” he moaned. “Never thought of that.”

“Don’t worry. Panic over. Got a problem over half term though.”

“What you gonna do about it?”

“No idea. Not bothered just now, it’s jungli time!”

Our erections grew between our naked bodies as we kissed deeply and passionately. I pushed Raz to the back of my mind and looked at Ash.

“I love you,” I whispered in his ear.

“Prove it,” he moaned as he led me to his bed.

***

By lunch-time the following day I’d worked out a way to sort Raz out. Making sure we were out of earshot of anyone, I explained my idea to Ash.

“Can you cover for me if I take a day off next week?” I asked.

He nodded. “Raz?”

“Yeah. I gotta do something about him. He won’t be satisfied until I have.”

“True. What you gonna do?”

“Take a day off. It’s the only time my place is empty. Tell Raz what day and leave the rest to him.”

“Good idea. What day?”

“No idea. What do you think?”

“Tuesday!” he said instantly. “You sleep over on Tuesdays and you can tell me all about it when you come round. I can check you out for bites and scratches as well!”

I grinned, pleased not only that I’d sorted the Raz difficulty out, but also that Ash knew about it.

“That should do,” I told Ash, showing him the text message for Raz: ‘Abdo, Tuesday after 10. My place. Kiran’

With a grin, Ash pressed the send key and gave me the phone back. Two minutes later it pinged. The message contained just two words: ‘jungli jungli’ and a smiley face.

“Best of luck!” Ash said. “You’ll need it! He can be a bit over-enthusiastic if he’s feeling randy. I half meant it when I said I’d check for bites and scratches. Left me with scratches all down my back once,” he giggled. “Jaanvar jungli!”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Wild animal!” he laughed.

Tuesday I was up at the usual time and had breakfast with mum and dad. In fact I kept to my normal routine, leaving the house at eight o’clock to walk to the bus stop. I could’ve stayed indoors, but then they would’ve wanted to know why I wasn’t going to college, a question I would rather not be asked. Taking a slow walk round the block, I waited until both cars were gone before I let myself back in.

At the stroke of ten, the front door bell rang and through the glass I could see the shape of Raz.

“Hiya!” he said as I let him in.

“Hi! Your timing is good,” I grinned, closing the door behind him, feasting my eyes on his taught body, waking my dick up.

“Yeah. Told mum and dad I was going swimming for the day.”

He extended his hand as if to shake hands, but at the last moment fooled me by giving me a hug and a peck on the cheeks. I took a step backwards, my arms clasped round his waist.

“Glad you came?” I whispered.

He grinned wickedly at me and wiggled out of my grasp, dropping his sports bag by the door.

“What do you think?” he said, rubbing his crotch.

“You hungry? Want something to eat or anything?” I said, pulling myself together.

“Naah, thanks. Neat house,” he said, looking round the living room.

I took him on the tour, surprising myself as I showed him round, looking at my home through the eyes of a visitor. It was nice. Big, clean and well furnished. As we wandered around, I looked at Raz, realising with a jolt why he was here. I hadn’t forgotten of course, how could I? But the sight of the handsome 13 year old climbing the stairs, his tightly clad butt just a few inches in front of my face brought it home to me. Despite my protestations to Ash about my not wanting to get involved with him, I knew I did. In my own way, I had just as big a crush on Raz as he had on me.

My dick began to harden even more as he walked down the corridor, opening doors to have a peek inside.

“Which’s your room?” he asked, eyes shining.

“This one,” I said, opening the door.

He bounced in, taking everything in in once swift glance.

“Nice! I could get my room in here twice over,” he laughed, pirouetting with outstretched arms. “Where’s Ash sleep?” he asked, eyes on my small bed.

“Sleeping bag,” I said. “On the floor.”

“I bet!” he giggled. “Bag!” he suddenly said and ran out of the room.

Seconds later he was back, unzipping his sports bag. He fished out a couple of CD’s and a little tub of Vaseline.

“Can I put these on?” he asked, waving them at me.

“Be my guest,” I grinned.

They were Indian, the covers printed in the garish blues, greens and reds they were so fond of. Surprisingly the music was soft and calming, filling the room with an almost soporific peace. Despite being voiceless, it was also very erotic.

Raz change his mood as he absorbed the sounds. With a serious look on his face, he walked into my arms and kissed me lightly on both cheeks. Gone was the happy-go-lucky boy of a few minutes ago, replaced by a lustful, satyric devil whose face radiated pure sinful desire.

Reaching up on his toes, he kissed me on the lips, open mouthed but no tongues. I felt him pull my shirt out and slip his hands under it, fingers sliding up my chest. Purring with happiness, he unbuttoned my shirt completely and dropped it on the floor.

“Let’s get undressed,” he whispered, licking at my teats.

We stood back for a few moments, gazing at each other’s body. He was just as I’d remembered him: flawless except for the half inch scar on his belly, delightfully brown with darker skin on his nips and …! That dick! A beautifully slender pole of bliss, wavering slightly as he breathed. Wordlessly he enfolded himself in my arms once more. His boner pressed between my thighs and mine throbbing against his navel.

“Bed,” he murmured.

Laying on our sides, we caressed and felt each other as if for the first time, Raz watching as he ran his fingers around my dick and balls, still intrigued with my foreskin. He rolled over, kissing me softly, his tongue just flicking in and out of my mouth. I took his cock in my hand, amazed yet again at its solid hardness, intense warmth and youthfulness.

The only other time we’d been together, Raz had been almost frenzied in his behaviour; touching, feeling, grasping and grabbing wherever he could, desperate to satisfy his lust. Now, he was much more tender, almost feminine, as he let his fingers roam. His kisses were soft and erotic, taken with relish and a delicacy which surprised me. And aroused me enormously. With Andrew, our lovemaking was always good but had a certain masculine edge to it, almost as if showing any real tenderness was denying our manhood. Raz was different, his touches graceful, his hands soft and delicate, his kisses passionate without being brutal. Close your eyes and he could be a girl, except for that fantastic part of him currently in my hand. Where was that wild animal Ash had warned me of?

I turned to face him, letting my hand rest on his butt. Intrigued, I watched as he put the tips of our dicks together, making what looked for all the world like a single long tube of two-coloured dick!

Gently he rolled my skin back and then unfurled it, covering both my and his crowns! The sensation of his tool in such intimate contact with mine added to the ecstatic feeling I had. Ecstatic and highly amusing. We both laughed at the sight, taking it in turns to jack the obscenely long dick.

Without warning, he abruptly flipped over to kneel astride me and sunk my dick into his mouth, his own cock brushing urgently against my lips. Hungrily, I opened my mouth and vacuumed him in, letting my tongue welcome it. We moaned and groaned in unison as we sucked and nibbled each other, time standing still as we submerged ourselves in mind-blowing bliss.

Assuming he’d changed his mind, or forgotten about, the real reason he wanted us to get together secretly as he worked his magic on my dick, I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or not.

“I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t stop,” I gasped out as his throat gripped my cockhead.

“Let it, ” he mewled.

We set to again with renewed vigour, hand and mouths working together to take us down that well- trodden, but none-the-less welcome, path His jizz wasn’t as salty as Ash’s, but good anyway. I swallowed it happily, dimly aware that he was doing his best to suck every last drop out of my aching balls. Turning round so he knelt astride me, he looked into my eyes and let his face break into a beam.

“That was ace!” he said. “Really good. But we ain’t done yet. We got round two yet!”

I looked at him quizzically, still a bit lost in my post-cumming blues.

“You know,” he giggled. “The other. We still gonna do it, right?”

I nodded, smiling wryly.

“It’s always better if you cum first,” he said in explanation, stretching out on top of me with our limp cocks safely out of harm’s way. “It lasts longer and you enjoy it more.”

“Good,” I sighed, not at all sure I was up to it.

“You done it before?” Raz whispered a little later as he fondled my now half hard-on.

“No, never.” I replied.

“You’re a virgin!” he sniggered.

” ‘Spose so,” I grinned.

“Brill! Leave it all to me.”

“You done it much?” I ventured.

“Sort of. I do it with my mate next door. He’s from Ghana. Got a big dick, and hair! ‘Friday night Special’ we call it,” he laughed.

I looked at him.

” ‘Cause I sleep over at his house on Friday nights,” he explained. Then, staring at me seriously, added, “You won’t tell, will you?”

” ‘Course not,” I replied.

“Good. Only my cousins won’t do it. Think it’s dirty or something.”

My dick hardened as I pictured the two of them together, Raz’s olive skin against what I assume was his mates ebony. It also explained the ease with which his ring opened to my fingers.

“That got you going, didn’t it!” Raz giggled as my erection made its presence felt.

He leaned in and kissed me, lightly at first, but then with increased passion, his tongue searching mine out. Squirming over, he spread himself on top of me, letting his whole weight rest on my chest. As he kept up the kissing, he wriggled about, massaging my body with his silky-smooth skin, letting his hands caress me, his excitement increased rapidly, a low, feral moan accompanying his every move. Before long he was totally blitzed, his arousal intense and passionate, completely oblivious to everything except the need to satisfy his desire. He changed from the meek, almost submissive boy he’d just been to a passion-driven satyr, desperate for sexual gratification. I let myself be absorbed into his world, revelling in his youthful exuberance and total commitment to enjoying himself.

He pulled me over onto my side, his hands raking up and down my back as he kissed me. They came to rest on my butt, a finger pressing on my ring.

“Vaseline,” he whispered.

I felt the cold paste smeared in between my cheeks and the finger replaced instantly. There was no subtlety. No finesse; with a solid push, his finger forced its way inside me. There was just a flash of pain as he gained entry, evaporating before I could react. Then there were two fingers wriggling about.

We hugged tightly, tears leaking from my eyes, tears of joy, happiness and sheer carnal lust as the amazing sensation flooded through me.

“Knees,” Raz growled. “And bend down.”

I did as I was told. Feeling a bit ludicrous, hunched over on my bed with my arse in the air. I waited nervously for what was going to happen next. Raz pulled my cheeks apart and rested his dick against my ring. Holding me firmly, he leaned in. With an almost audible pop, he broke through the barrier and in one smooth move slid all the way down, his balls coming to rest against my arse.

“Oh fuck!” I heard Raz groan, obviously pleased with himself. “Oh bloody fuck!”

I knew his cock was big, but once buried inside me, it felt gigantic, seemingly filling my whole inside with a hot, amazingly erotic thrill.

“Jesus!” I moaned, head buried in my pillow. I’d imagined being screwed before, but experiencing it was something else. As he drove in and out, I wallowed in the delight; not only mine, but vicariously Raz’s as well.

Then he began to fuck me seriously, patiently and deliberately, each thrust being accompanied by a sigh of pure ecstasy, his hands now on my hips, pulling me into him tightly. Every time he bottomed out, a bolt of pure white energy exploded in my brain and my dick throbbed even harder. Time and time again he dug into me, and just as I thought that I couldn’t take much more, he pulled out completely, leaving me feeling empty and frustrated, my mind demanding more.

“Over!” he said, pushing me onto my back.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw my legs over his shoulders, aimed his cock at my hole again and re-inserted it hurriedly. The was much better; he was deeper in me and attacking with an energy I couldn’t believe. I clamped my legs around him and urged him on, all self-control gone, and rutting like rabbits on heat.

He didn’t last long. His frantic bucking slowed down, and with two long, hard thrusts, he shot his load.

“Ooooh shit!” he yelled as his body shuddered with the climax. I felt his dick spasm as he unloaded what was his second cum in half an hour, each spurt forced out with a barely suppressed orgasmic groan.

His face was screwed up in ecstasy, eyes tight closed and his chest heaving as he came down from what was an incredible high. He wasn’t done yet though. Pulling his cock out, he slapped me on the side and demanded, “Change over quick!”

Before I knew it, he was underneath me, legs in the air and my pulsating rod aimed at his ring.

“In,” he grimaced, “Get it in quick.”

Without a second’s thought, I pushed it home, entry being as easy as a knife through butter.

“Aaaah!” he sighed as he felt me slip in. ” Do it, do it!”

I didn’t waste any time. I hammered away at him like a man possessed, not giving a damn whether I was hurting him or not, my lust superseding every other thought I may have had. Raz too was back on a high, his head thrashing about the pillow, legs encasing me and fingernails clawing at my back. He clenched and unclenched his butt cheeks, milking me rhythmically in perfect harmony with my thrusts.

There was no way I could last. Already on the verge of shooting my bolt when Raz was screwing me, I managed just a dozen strokes before I lost it. My back arched, my dick swelled to twice its size and I spurted out what must’ve been a gallon of cum into Raz’s belly.

I hadn’t had such a thorough workout since I last played soccer. Raz and I were coated in a sheen of perspiration, his hair matted and chest heaving. It was all we could do to hold on to each other tenuously.

“Thanks!” Raz murmured once he’d regained some strength. “That was bloody fantastic! What do you think?”

“Great!” I smiled at him. “It was certainly different!”

“Yeah. Sorry about the scratches. I go a bit mad sometimes, I just can’t help it. I can make it last longer usually as well, but I was so wound up by being with you that I couldn’t do it. Next time it’ll be better. And you can go first!”

Despite the little scratches I’d gained on my back and chest, I had in fact enjoyed it. Not something I’d want to do every day, but once in a while would be good.

“Can I have a quick shower?” Raz asked. “I stink!”

I showed him where it was and re-made the bed as I waited my turn. The room also smelled of sex and sweat – not something my parents would appreciate. A quick dose of air freshener and an open window soon cured that little problem – and an understanding of why we used joss sticks at Ash’s house!

Raz was still not dressed when I came back from my shower, instead he was laid on the bed reading one of my books – one of the ‘specials’. I sat beside him, reading it over his shoulder, noting with interest that he’d picked up ‘The Swimming-pool Library’.

“Any good?” he asked, waving it at me.

“Yeah, I think so. Want to borrow it?”

“Can I? Thanks!”

He dropped the book onto the table and twisted round to look at me, grinning.

“Can I come round again?” he asked, kissing me lightly. “I really like it here.”

” ‘Course you can. But it isn’t always easy to get the house to ourselves though.”

“Great!” he beamed. “Can we just lay here for a bit and rest?”

He was like Ash and me in that respect. Once we’d satisfied ourselves, it was nice to relax together, embracing and caressing gently, kissing once in a while. Almost too relaxing. Before long Raz had fallen asleep by my side, arms round me and one leg thrown over mine. Taking advantage, I starred at his beautiful body. He was perfection personified, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. His now flaccid cock curved over his balls, showing no sign at all of its recent abuse. In an odd sort of way I envied him; he enjoyed his sexuality for what it was – something which gave him pleasure, to be taken as he wanted with no hang-ups. If he’d been three or four years older he might’ve been a serious rival for Ash, once he’d lost that animal passion that took control of him. Whoever fell for him, and it would have to be another boy, would be a very lucky person. Ash and I were in love, for which I counted my blessings and I hoped Raz would find someone as good as him when the time came.

I kissed Raz’s nipples gently, causing him to wake up.

“Come on,” I whispered. “Time we made a move.”

After he was dressed, he dug into a pocket and pressed a small silver charm into my hand.

“Look after that for me,” he smiled. “It’s an old custom we have. When friends part, you always give something to each other. Sort of means you’ve got to meet again to get it back. I’ve got your book and you’ve got that.”

As we parted company, I whispered in his ear. Blushing slightly, he smacked me on the arm and said, “That’ll be gone next time I have a crap, stupid! But you can fill me up again!”

***

It was nice to be back in Ash’s room, relaxed and chatting about nothing in particular. Whenever we were apart, he wasn’t ever far from my thoughts I’d come to realise, it was as if a part of me was missing until we got together again, as we were now.

“How’d you get on with Raz today?” he asked as we cleared away our college books.

“OK,” I grinned.

I filled him in on most of the details of our meeting, leaving out the most personal bits of it, the ones Ash may not appreciate being told.

“Got any battle scars?” he asked.

I took off my shirt and showed him the scratches on my back and chest. Luckily none of them were deep – only superficial ones which were already fading away.

“Told you,” he laughed, fingering the welts delicately. “Animal, yes?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, hoping he didn’t ask me exactly what I was doing with Raz to earn them.

“So, you going to see him again?” Ash asked, taking his shirt off.

“Don’t know,” I answered honestly. “He wants to, but I told him how difficult it is. In any case, I don’t think he goes short of anything!” I added, smiling.

“No, you’re probably right.” Ash said, “From what I hear, he’s got quite a fan club.”

Suddenly, I felt I needed Ash, needed him close to me, to have his body next to mine, to have his arms round me. I put my round his neck and kissed him tenderly. “Missed you,” I whispered.

An hour later, after we’d demonstrated our love for each other, I made my mind up that I wouldn’t see Raz again, not alone anyway. He was OK in most ways, but he wasn’t really what I wanted, or needed come to that. With Raz, the sex was what he wanted, and nothing else. He was young of course, and would hopefully grow out of it, but for the time being at least, that was all he required.

In fact Ash and I saw Raz quite a few times over the next months and had a good time with him. He never suggested our meeting again, much to my relief, and seemed happy enough with the life he had.

The biggest surprise of all came at the start of the following summer. Mum, dad and I were having a meal one night when they casually told me that they were re-modelling the house. Apparently they’d decided to set up their own company, working from home. This in effect meant that the ground floor would be converted into offices with the living accommodation moved upstairs. The bonus as far as I was concerned was that they were going to convert the roof space over the double garage into a self-contained flat for me!

I don’t think the conversion was absolutely essential, but in their own way, they were accepting that Ash and I had a long-term thing going and were doing it for our benefit. They didn’t go as far as buying a double bed for us though, but I did notice that the two large singles they’d bought could be bolted together to make a double!

Ash was over the moon when I told him about the flat and he took as much a part in the planning of it as I did. Looking back on it, my parents never once commented on this; it was just assumed that Ash would move in at some point.

We spent hours trying to work out how we could tell Ash’s parents of our intentions, but we always came back to the same problem – how could we live together without admitting that we were lovers?

The answer came most unexpectedly. From the first day that we’d agreed to share the flat, Ash had decided that we would both stop shaving our groins. For him this was a big step, admitting as it did the fact that we were now a couple and not just two individuals. This pleased me more than I can say, as you can imagine as we both watched our pubic hair grow back like two young teenagers comparing their first growth. By the time the flat was ready to move into, Ash had a beautiful bush of black, silky-smooth hair in his crotch which made his naked body even more perfect in my eyes.

Perfect in my eyes, but not his fathers. He accidentally walked in on Ash when he was having a shower and couldn’t help but notice the change in his son. Nothing was said, either then or later. Ash became more and more distracted as the days went by, waiting for the inevitable confrontation with his father. It got so bad that he couldn’t concentrate on anything, he got ratty and bad tempered and refused to talk about it. In the end I simply had to do something for both our sakes.

Choosing a time when Ash was working in the college library, I went to see his father.

Feeling as nervous as ever I’d been, I knocked on his door and asked if we could talk. He looked at me unsmiling and asked me to sit down.

“I’ve asked Ash if he’d like to share my flat with me,” I began. “I hope you don’t mind.”

There was a pause. An awful, pregnant silence as he looked at me steadily.

“You are good friends, yes?” he asked at long last.

What he meant by ‘good friends’, I’d got a good idea, but however he meant it, the answer was still the same.

“Yes,” I said, with as much feeling as I could.

“And Ashok has said he wants to – err – share with you?”

I nodded.

Another pause as he chose his words carefully.

“He isn’t a boy any more. He’s almost a man, and he needs to have some independence. Some freedom. It is better he shares that freedom with someone who he cares for very much, and can grow up with. I think you’ll be good for each other.”

And that was it. I hadn’t missed the double-edged comment about ‘growing up’, but that didn’t matter. We’d successfully avoided the issue about our true relationship, although he was perfectly aware of it.

I was so pleased that he’d agreed to let Ash go, I almost lost self control and felt tears welling up. Rather hurriedly, I stood up and shook his hand.

“Thank you. Thank you very much,” I said, unable to keep a tremor of emotion out of my voice.

Ash and I moved in two weeks later, without any fuss or bother. My parents were quite happy with the situation and Ash’s were as accepting as they could be. Naturally, we have dropped out of the chakra group, although we still have Raz over to visit once in a while. Now aged 15, he hasn’t changed all that much as far as we can see. He enjoys the sex just as much as ever and can still get over-excited. The only other significant change is that we now have Imran visit with us too, another cousin who likes to have fun once in a while.

 

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