Miles of Smiles
There was no way I could settle down to write that evening, my mind just wouldn’t let go of Miles and the afternoon’s events. I was pretty certain that it would be kept secret between ourselves, and unless he had been spotted entering or leaving my flat, I could always deny his having ever been there. ‘No’, I thought, ‘That wasn’t the real issue. The problem was, did I want to encourage him? Did I want him in my home again? Did I want us to …..?
Obviously, the answers should have been ‘no’ in every case. But that was the sensible, logical and correct answer. And I wasn’t logical, sensible or right in what I truly wanted. And neither was Miles.
It was he who’d started things off, plotted and schemed to get what he wanted, and I was the target.
Ordinary, average, almost invisible Miles had got just what he desired. There was no doubt that he was brighter than I’d given him credit for, that he was a determined young man, and that he was sexually very much more aware than any other boy I’d known: the story archive had seen to that!
I half thought of sending him an email, telling him not to come tomorrow, but then realised that I didn’t know who had access to his computer. I assumed that it was just him, but I couldn’t be certain – and the risk, no matter how slight, of it being read by either of his parents was too great. The only thing I could do was to have a long, serious talk with him if and when he arrived.
He was late. With some trepidation, I’d watched the minute hand of the clock creep from 11 o’clock to almost twenty past. My mind was in turmoil – a thousand ‘what if …’ questions buzzing round my head, most of which weren’t very pleasant ones. I was shaken out of my reverie by the insistent ringing of the front door bell. More than half convinced that it was Miles’ father, or even the Police, I cautiously opened the door.
“Hiya!” said Miles as he slipped past me. “I made it!”
“What happened?” I asked, relieved that it was just him, with no seriously pissed-off adult in tow.
“Puncture on my bike,” he grinned. “Couldn’t be bothered to mend it. Walked instead.”
Deliberately, I sat in the big easy chair, leaving Miles the option of using the other chair or the sofa. He chose not to: instead, he sat on the floor in front of me, cross-legged.
“You OK?” he asked, his head cocked to one side questioningly. “You look a bit pissed off. Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Of course I am,” I replied. “I was just worried about why you were late. But we have go to talk.”
“Can I have a drink first? Got any Coke?”
Having got the drink, I returned to my chair, Miles not having moved in the slightest from his position on the floor.
“I’m not sure that you should come here,” I began. “If anyone should ever find out, we would both be in serious trouble – me a lot more than you.”
Miles must’ve been expecting this conversation, and had given it some thought. For every objection I raised, for every reason I gave, he had an answer. I wasn’t winning.
We lapsed into silence, all arguments being countered.
“Whatever you say,” I said at last, “I don’t think we should do what we did yesterday again.”
Miles shrugged his shoulders in resignation, gave me a grin and replied, “That means I can still come visit though!”
I was argued out: I simply hadn’t the energy to go through it all again. I nodded a reluctant yes.
“Good!” he said, his tone of voice letting me know that my agreement to his visiting was a foregone conclusion.
He stood up and rather to my surprise, moved across and sat himself on my lap, arms round my neck.
“Thanks!” he whispered, kissed me lightly on the cheek and made himself comfortable.
“No sex!” he giggled. “Let’s just sit here and talk for a bit.”
I wrapped my arms round his waist, as much to keep my hands away from his front as much as anything else. I knew precisely what would happen if a hand, accidentally or otherwise, touched anywhere from his knees to his chest.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” I said, feeling much more at ease now the question of sex was out of the way.
“Dunno. It’s just nice sitting here like this. No one holds me very much anymore.”
“Well, you’re fourteen, not four,” I said. “Fourteen-year-olds don’t need hugging.”
“Who says? I’ve not been hugged properly since I was about eight years old, specially by my dad. Sometimes it’d be nice.”
“Mmmmm. Perhaps you’re right,” I mused, giving him a gentle squeeze.
Of course he was right I thought. Even at my age, a hug from another person, male or female, was more than welcome at times.
“’Course I am. That’s how Mike and me started.”
Miles was now perfectly at ease: relaxed and comfortable – and in a talkative mood.
“How?” I asked quietly.
Miles went on to say that they’d met when they both started at the senior school together when they were 11 years old. They soon became friends and spent almost all their free time together, as close as any two boys could get.
“It was last winter,” Miles said dreamily, eyes closed as he remembered.
“I was staying at Mike’s for the week-end and their central heating packed up on the Saturday. It was bloody freezing!” Miles said, shivering at the thought. “We all ended up wrapped in blankets watching the TV. Mike’s mum gave us a big blanket to share and we huddled up real close to get warm.”
“Well, you can guess what happened next.” Miles giggled. “Our hands sorta wandered under the blanket and we began to tickle each other. His dad got a bit ratty with us and told us to pack it up. Then I felt Mike’s hand on my leg, but I couldn’t say anything ’cause we’d been told to shut up, so I did the same thing to him. We’d seen each other without any clothes on lots of times before, but we’d never touched each other – not like we were then anyway. Well, we both got hardons and played with them outside our trousers at first, but then we went inside, through the flies. It was funny,” Miles went on. “We were both feeling each other up, but had to keep dead quiet in case anyone saw us. We even got our dicks out for a bit, but then put ’em away ’cause we thought we might get caught.”
I lifted Miles up off my lap a little to move my hardening dick from under his butt. Miles, I noticed, took the opportunity to adjust his at the same time.
“Then what?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“When it came to bed time, the bedrooms were fuckin’ freezing!” he laughed. “So his mum told us both to share Mike’s bed so’s we’d keep warm. We thought that was brilliant! We’d probably have done it anyway, but it was even better ’cause she told us to. She even brought us up some hot drinks as well! Once we’d made sure she wasn’t coming back, Mike asked me if I wanted to have another feel, so we took our undies off and felt each other all over for ages and ages. It was the first time we’d done anything like that, but we both liked it a lot and went to sleep cuddled up together. With our hands covering each other’s balls!” he giggled.
“And then?” I said, our cocks as hard as they could be by now.
“You want the whole, dirty story?” Miles laughed, squeezing me lightly. “I thought you said ‘no sex’?”
I shrugged my shoulders, smiling at him.
“Well, things sorta changed between us after that. Whenever we got the chance, we’d feel each other up and play around a bit, especially when we were by ourselves. I wanted to wank him off, but I didn’t know if he knew about that sort of thing yet. I’d found out about it from the ‘net and had started to do it ages before we messed about, but I couldn’t cum every time I did it and I wanted to know if Mike was the same. He was in my bed at home one sleepover and we’d been messing about for hours and I asked him if I could jack him off properly. It turned out that he’d been doing it for just as long as I had, but didn’t know that I knew about it! Well, anyway, we had a fantastic time that night; we must’ve orgasmed about six times each!”
“And you still do it?” I enquired.
“Yeah, but not as much though,” Miles replied. “I think I screwed it up a bit.”
“How?” I asked, aware that one of Miles’ hands was now resting in my groin. I chose not to move it.
Quietly, and with a sad tone in his voice, Miles carried on. “I was feeling really randy one time and asked if I could give him a blow job. I’d never done one before and wanted to try it. I had to tell him what it was, but he wasn’t very sure about it. Anyway, I more or less made him let me try. I got as far as having his dick in my mouth when he pushed me off, saying it wasn’t very nice. We ain’t done much since then except toss each other off sometimes when he’s in the mood.”
“You miss it then?” I asked. Stupid, dumb question I realised as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
“What do you think?” he said quietly, sitting up and looking directly at me. Hesitantly he put a hand on my cock, and the other on his own.
“Please?” He wasn’t begging, it wasn’t in his nature. It was a request.
The story I’d just heard from Miles had touched me more than I thought it would. It was obvious that what he wanted now was a friend, a confidant and someone he could trust with his deepest secret. And someone to satisfy a desperate need. To refuse him now would be disastrous for his self-confidence. All he was looking for was a bit of comfort and solace – something we all need. Where was the harm in that? What we were going to do (at his suggestion, I rationalised to myself) was no more and no less than a thousand other people did every day. You may think that I was clutching at straws – and you’d be right.
“You know the way,” I whispered.
Once in my bedroom, he avoided looking at me directly; his back turned towards me as he took his shirt, shoes and socks off. With a hand on the belt of his trousers, he twisted round to look straight at me.
“You don’t mind? You really don’t mind?” he said quietly. “I can go back home if you want.”
The usually ebullient Miles was being deadly serious. Perhaps it was the conversation we’d had earlier that had brought him down to Earth. Perhaps he was having second thoughts and had changed his mind. Perhaps … ?
I dropped the shirt I was holding and went over to him, putting at arm over his shoulder.
“We haven’t got to do anything if you don’t want. It’s up to you. Your choice.”
There was the slightest trace of a humourless smile and I felt the tension drain out of him. Moving across to the bed, he sat on the edge, pulling me down beside him, ensuring that my arm stayed where it was.
“I know we shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t,” he said. “But I really want to do it. I don’t understand why. All I know is that I like it and can’t stop thinking about it. It’s not even the sex bit, it’s just that I feel so, so good. I don’t know how to say what I feel, but it doesn’t feel wrong or anything. How can it be when I feel so good?”
He was very close to tears I thought, and to save any embarrassment, I sat him on my knees, letting his head rest on my shoulder. Giving him a gentle squeeze, I stroke his hair and whispered, “I know how you feel. Just relax and take your time. I’m more than happy just holding you if that’s what you want.”
I was too. We sat in thoughtful silence for ages until I felt pins and needles in my leg. Easing his head back, I kissed him on the forehead and suggested that we lay back on the bed.
“Good,” he said, fairly cheerfully. “My arms are starting to ache.”
I don’t think he’d been crying, but his eyes were red-rimmed and his face was suffused pinkly. Ignoring this, we settled down again, embracing lightly, our chests pressed together.
“That’s better!” he grinned, now almost back to his old self. For better or worse, he’d made his mind up.
He wriggled a leg between mine, pecked me once on each cheek and sighed. Before long I became aware of a growing bulge in his trousers. In sympathy mine began to expand too. Twice he reached down and adjusted himself, the second time the back of his hand brushing against my own erection.
“This’s no good,” he giggled. “I gotta take ’em off!”
Sitting up, he unfastened his trousers and slipped them off, together with his pants. He looked at me expectantly. Keeping an eye fixed on his beautifully erect cock, I removed mine and let them fall to the floor. Instantly, he was back, arms round my neck, a wicked look in his eye and a smile which could only mean trouble.
Slowly he tilted his head back and moved closer. I waited, my heart pounding. Our lips met, so very softly at first that I only just felt his touch. Then more firmly. His arms tightened and I was pulled into him, our kiss now passionate. Suddenly he broke away and I opened my eyes to find that he was gazing into them, his brow furrowed questioningly. Smiling happily, I pulled him back down and returned the kiss just as firmly. In return, I heard him moan contentedly.
With a gentle pressure, Miles pushed me onto my back and settled himself on top, legs between mine and his elbows resting on my chest. All signs of his earlier stress had vanished: what I was looking at now was a very happy, contented boy which he demonstrated by wriggling around until our solidly hard dicks were arranged comfortably. Dropping his head, he listened to my heart-beat for a few moments, tapping the rhythm out with his fingers on my chest.
“Do you like this?” he mused. “Us being together like this?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “ No complaints as long as no one ever finds out.”
“Good. I knew you would.”
I was so far relaxed that it took me a minute or two to understand what he’d said.
“Hmmm?” I said. “Knew what?”
“That you’d like doing this sorta stuff.”
“How’d you know?” I asked, puzzled but still managing to stroke his hair and run my fingers down his back.
“By accident really. I found your stories on the net. Didn’t know they were yours of course, but after I’d read ’em all I sorta worked it out, like I said before. Then me and Mike got together and did stuff and I liked doing it, but he’s not into it as much as I am and so I wanted to find someone else. Someone older,” he giggled, giving me a little kiss.
“So you planned it all, right from the start?” I interrupted.
I should’ve been angry or upset I suppose, but quite the reverse. I felt pleased in an odd sort of way, if not actually flattered. Whatever misgivings about our relationship I may have, or had, were rapidly disappearing. It’s hard to justify them when you’ve got a naked, intensely erect boy stretched out on top of you and moreover have just been told that he actually set out to seduce you! My last reservations vaporised as he gave me a kiss and thrust his hips into me.
“Not sorry are you?” he giggled, bucking up and down a couple of times, emphasising his point.
“No, not now. But I never really stood a chance, did I?”
That trademark giggle again. “Suck it for me?” he asked.
Manoeuvring himself upwards, he straddled my chest and inched his oh-so-innocent looking dick towards my lips. Placing my hands on his waist, I stared at the four (and a half!) inch glistening rod in front of me, my tongue already licking my lips in anticipation. His obvious youthfulness, emphasised by the adolescent smattering of curly hairs and super-smooth skin instantly became the centre of my universe.
Delicately kissing the fold of skin covering the tip of his offering, I parted my lips and eased myself forwards. Miles, unable to wait, completed the job and before I knew it, my nose was buried in his groin, his hot dick filling my mouth.
I felt Miles’ finger-nails bite into my shoulders and a shudder passed through his body as I closed my mouth and gave him the gentlest of sucks.
“Oh fuck!” I heard him sigh ecstatically. I barely felt his fingers dig into me even harder.
Miles hadn’t a clue which planet he was on. Raising my eyes, I saw his face contorted into a mask of sheer bliss, eyes screwed closed and a beatific smile spread from ear to ear.
He didn’t move an inch – I don’t suppose he could, even if he wanted to. I let his cock rest on my tongue for a moment or two whilst I accustomed myself to feelings I hadn’t had in years – and even then they weren’t anywhere near as intense as the ones I was having now. Dimly I was aware of my own dick throbbing somewhere behind Miles, uncomfortably close to shooting its load in response to the sensory overload.
In an effort to divert its attention and delay the inevitable, I put my hands on Miles’ hips and persuaded him to move to and fro, all the time gripping his cock firmly between my lips and sucking more and more deeply.
“Oh shit!” he stammered out as he began to thrust himself in and out, utilising the full length of his manhood.
There was no way was he under any sort of self-control by now, his natural and innate instincts having taken over. More and more urgently he bucked back and forth, each thrust accompanied by a feral moan of sheer lust.
It was all too much. After just half a dozen strokes, he forced himself down my throat as far as he was able, and fired out everything he had in uncounted spurts of euphoric joy. Even when he’d given everything he possibly could, he still kept thrusting until, exhausted, he fell off me and collapsed on the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the effort of breathing.
I leaned across and pushed his hair from his sweat-beaded forehead to reveal two eyes, glazed and unseeing. He was completely out of it, and somewhat awkwardly I managed to cover us both with the bedcover, cuddled up close and just held him.
“That was a bit intense!” he said quietly once he’d come to. “Ain’t never been like that before.”
There was a nervous tremor in his voice and he bit his bottom lip anxiously, looking at me for some reaction.
“That good was it?” I grinned, kissing the end of his nose.
Smiling back, he pecked me on the lips and whispered, “You bet!” Then we kissed again, deeply and passionately. I hardly noticed the wet stickiness in my own groin.
Once Miles had fully recovered from his ordeal, he became a little hyperactive, patently very pleased with himself. He was talking away almost wildly in his excitement, all the time running his hands over my body and interspersing his ramblings with tender kisses and delirious grins. It took a while, but eventually he calmed down, lay back, arms crossed on his chest and stared at the ceiling.
“That was fun.” he said, as much to himself as to me. Then added wickedly, “Mike doesn’t know what he’s missing!”
Under the bed clothes, I felt his hand grasp mine and squeeze it lightly, his fingers staying entwined with mine. I squeezed him back and whispered, “You OK then?”
He nodded in reply and very quietly said that he was.
“Time you gotta be home?” I asked softly.
He glanced at the clock, lay back and said, “About an hour or so.”
“Come on, then,” I said. “Shower for you, young man. Can’t have you going home smelling like a …” I was lost for words, but he knew what I meant.
Once I’d shown him where the shower was, I left him to it and went downstairs to find something light to eat for us both. Before long we were sat in my lounge, sharing a sandwich or two and a pot of coffee. Not much was said between us, but once in a while our eyes would meet which resulted in a mischievous giggle from Miles at the knowledge of our shared secret.
“Can you give me a lift?” he said as his home-time approached.
I looked at him, wide-eyed.
“Oh, yeah. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a good idea!” he laughed.
“Tell you what,” I said as an idea struck me. “My house backs on to the playing field and I think there’s a gate in the fence which opens out to it. If you cut across the field from your house, it’ll be shorter and no one will see you come here if you’re careful and you come in through the back door.”
“Brilliant!” he giggled. “And you don’t mind?”
It suddenly struck me that in making the offer, I’d changed our relationship. Instead of trying to dissuade him from furthering our relationship as I’d been so determined to do earlier, I was now agreeing to it, if not actually encouraging him.
“Not really. I just don’t want you to get caught visiting me,” I added lamely.
The fact that he would call again was beyond dispute, as we both knew. I didn’t, however, tell him about the spare key I’d hidden under a convenient brick outside the back door. That would come later, probably.
It was with very mixed feelings that I watched him leave soon afterwards. On the one hand, I was pleased that he’d come to see me to begin with, pleased that we’d enjoyed ourselves in the way we had, and delighted that he wanted to come back for more. On the other hand, I was worried about what I was getting myself into, worried about how seriously Miles was taking the situation, and worried what would happen if we were ever found out.
After spending ages thinking about it and not coming to any real conclusion, I turned the TV on and started watching some inane programme or other. Just as soon as I relaxed, the truth hit me. Whatever the pros and cons, I didn’t want to stop seeing Miles: he filled a gap in my life which only now was I beginning to realise was there. And it appeared that he also had a gap which needed filling. Rightly or wrongly, I was not going to stop seeing him – I didn’t have the strength of character.
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