Gareth and Phil
by Alexander


Chapter 7

Ruffling Gareth’s hair, I suggested that he give it a rest for a while and that we aught to think about something else for a change, like having a shower and getting some breakfast. Giggling, he kissed my cock lightly on the tip and knelt up, looking kittenish.

“May I suggest that you put some clothes on and go get a shower? You smell like a brothel!” Sticking his tongue out at me, he searched for his long-discarded clothes and put them on.

“Can I take the car?” he pleaded.

Pointing towards where I’d left the keys, I issued the mandatory ‘Be careful’ advice, before adding wickedly, “And leave the boys – and men – alone!”

Still laughing, he scampered out and I heard the Landrover start up as I gathered the cooking things together to start breakfast. Within half-an-hour he was back, freshly scrubbed and radiating a much healthier aroma than he was earlier. Leaving him to make tea for himself, I walked across to the shower block and luxuriated in a warm, invigorating shower. I was drying myself off when a man alongside me smiled and said, “I’ll bet your brother is a handful, isn’t he?” I was completely thrown by this: what in Hell was he talking about? My first thoughts were either Gareth had done something silly while driving across the field, or our noisy night had disturbed him. And the brother bit?

“Yeah, I was walking the dog late last night when I heard him shout something out. All your lights were out, so I suppose he was dreaming was he?” In the split second I had to think before answering him, I guessed he believed it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything at all, and possibly rung the Police if he’d had any doubts about our propriety.

“Yes,” I mumbled, “He gets some awful nightmares. Sorry if he disturbed you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got two boys and they scream the house down sometimes. Your brother was in here just now, washing up whilst I was shaving. He seemed happy enough, he was singing away to himself, so he got over it OK?”

“Yes, thanks.” I replied.

“He said that you were on a camping holiday to get away from the house for some peace and quiet. I wish I could do that, believe me!” He laughed as he collected his things together and waved as he left. “See you later.”

I held on to the sink to steady myself. Jesus! We must be more careful in future, or find a camp-site a million miles from the nearest people!

Gareth thought this was hilarious as I told him the story, and to give him his due, thought less of it than I did. “What you worried about? My mum and dad think I have nightmares when I, well, you know! If it works for them, well … And I told them you were my brother ‘cause if I said anything else, he might not have believed me.”

That made sense: my estimation of Gareth’s sensibility went up a thousand-fold and I knew then that I could depend on his intelligence and discretion entirely, much to my relief as this had been niggling away at at the back of my mind for a long time.

It was with some relief on my part that we packed the gear away and left the site an hour later, turning towards Wales and the West. Over a leisurely lunch taken at a transport café, we talked about where we should go next, and came to no real decision. In desperation, I bought a cheap ‘Where to Camp’ guide from the garage and handed it to Gareth to search through. Having gone through the children’s playground-type and the up-market caravan sites, I suggested that he look for a place that only took one tent at a time and was a thousand miles from anywhere.

I got a puzzled look from my companion in return, and pointed out that if he was to carry on making as much noise as he has done so far every time he shot his load, then nothing less would do! “It’s your fault,” he retorted, “You always get me so wound up I can’t help it!” I laughed and punched him on the arm.

“Of course, the easy alternative is to forget all about sex for two weeks and just enjoy ourselves.”

“NO CHANCE!” he said forcefully, grinning broadly “You got me out here a zillion miles from nowhere to have your wicked way with me, and now you’re gonna dump me. Absolutely no way! In any case, look what you’ve done already.”

He lifted the front of his shorts up, sans underwear, and nodded at his boner.

“Jesus! Doesn’t that thing ever give up?” I groaned.

“Nope. Not when you’re around anyway.”

Still giggling, he laid out on the seat, rested his head in my lap and started to read the guide. Happily, I stroked his hair as I drifted along the quiet road, thinking once again how lucky we were.

By mid-afternoon it was becoming obvious that we were about as far from civilisation as we were going to get. We were surrounded by the magnificent Welsh hills and deep valleys, once populated by sheep farmers, long-since gone. I was just beginning to panic a bit, doubting seriously if ever we would find anywhere at all to stop, never mind a quiet one. It was Gareth who spotted the tiny white sign leaning over at a crazy angle, half-buried in the hedge.

“There!” he shouted.

Jerking to a stop I reversed to see the weather-beaten ‘Camping’ notice pointing down an over-grown lane. Gingerly I fought my way down it, not expecting to find anything at all except a derelict farmhouse at the end. Ten minutes later and we found it. Derelict it certainly was, peeling paint, broken windows – the lot. But it was occupied as the tell-tale smoke from the chimney said.

Nervously, I knocked at the door and waited. After what seemed an age, it was opened by an old man, dressed in the by-gone clothes of a Welsh hill farmer. He looked at me waiting for me to start.

“We’ve – er – got ourselves a bit lost and it’s getting late. We were wondering if you still took in campers?”

He looked at me and the Landrover, and Gareth peering out of the window.

“Mm.,” he said, non-committally. “Haven’t seen anybody in months. Don’t do much any more. The best I got is the field down there.” He pointed vaguely at a grass slope off to the side. “There’s a river at the bottom.”

That apparently was the extent of the ‘facilities’.

“Ok, we’ll take it. For tonight anyway. I’ll let you know if we’re gonna stay any longer.”

“It’ll cost £5 – and stay as long as you like.”

I gave him the note and thanked him.

“Don’t mind the cows in the field. They won’t harm you,” he muttered as he closed the door.

It was lucky I had a Landrover as the slope down the field to the stream was quite steep and slippery, and negotiating round the cows wasn’t easy either! Still, we managed to get down without any mishap and cruised along the bank until we found a secluded spot on a bend with easy access to the water.

The tent was quickly set up and our few bits and pieces thrown in. The weather had turned hotter over the past few hours and we were looking forward to trying the river to see if it was OK to swim in. Food was our first target though, and I asked Gareth if he wanted to try and find somewhere to eat, or did he fancy cooking out here.

“Out here!” he bounced, “It’ll be fun. What we got?”

I fished out some tins of beans, sausages and other odds and ends. “There you go. Do you wanna do it, or shall I?”

We decided that I would make some tea whilst he cooked the food for us. But first, a swim.

Stripping off our now grubby clothes, we found our swimming trunks and pulled them on. Gareth suggested that we didn’t bother with them as we seemed to be so isolated, but thinking that it was always possible a hiker or someone would wander by, we aught to try and be fairly decent.

The water was cold at first, but we soon got used to it and splashed around in the summer sun. Gareth was as relaxed as ever I’d seen him and I enjoyed sitting on the bank watching him play in the water diving for rocks and generally having a good time – it was a real delight to watch him loose himself in a world of his own for a while, completely free.

Leaving him to his own pleasures, I wandered back to the tent and started the meal. It wasn’t long before he smelt the aroma of cooking sausages and ran back, shaking the water out of his soft fair hair as he did so. Sitting cross-legged in front of the frying pan, he turned the sausages over with a fork.

“You’d better put a T-shirt of something on if you’re gonna do that,” I suggested.

Turning to look at me, smiled and ignored my comment. He quickly changed his mind however when the fat splattered at him making him yelp with the short sharp pain.

Leaving him to get on with it, I started to sort the tent out, spreading the bags out and arranging the tv and so on. I stopped suddenly when I heard another yelp from outside.

“My nuts have gone!” he shouted, laughing with glee. “Look!”

He was right, of course, the cold water had done its trick. Gareth was stood with his trunks at his knees, his shrivelled cock hanging loosely doing a pretty good job of hiding his tiny wrinkled balls, pulled up tightly into his groin as they were.

“Thank goodness for that, I might get some peace at last,” I replied seriously. “There’s no way can you do anything with that except piss once in a while. It’s the first time I’ve seen it soft. Tiny little thing ain’t it!”

“Bollocks!” he beamed, “Just you wait.” Without further ado, he cupped his withered tackle in his hand and began to massage them back to life with one hand whilst tending to the food with the other. Pretty disgusting, but I knew he was clean enough. I made sure he didn’t touch any of the food with his hands though all the same. Much to his delight it wasn’t long before his nuts returned to something like normal, a fact which he thoroughly enjoyed showing me.

I joined him as the meal was served, sat opposite him. We were hungrier than we thought and the pile of food was quickly demolished, but not before Gareth showed me the way his mind was working. He was only wearing his T-shirt, which just about covered his groin when he was sat down. I looked at him as he stared pointedly at the remaining sausages in the pan, then at his crotch, then back to the sausages again. Slowly the front of his shirt began to tent out – I watched, intrigued, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Moving his shirt out of the way, he picked up a sausage, examined it closely and stared at his semi-rigid cock, giggling.

“I’ll never noticed that before,” he said trying to be serious. “They’re about the same.” Looking me straight in the eye, he slid the piece of meat between his lips and sucked hard, working it in and out erotically. Laughing at his boyish game, I copied him and commented that the sausage tastes better than some things I could think of.

“Prick!” he said through a mouthful of food.

His tool was standing perfectly upright now, his foreskin just allowing a glimpse of its purple head. My own hitherto quiescent dick stirred in my trunks, rapidly hardening and becoming painful. I eased my hand inside them and made myself more comfortable.

“Gotcha!” he chortled, “You got a hardon! And you call me randy!”

Slightly embarrassed at being caught out for some reason, I half-smiled and muttered, “I’ll get you later for that!”

It didn’t take five minutes to clear away the cooking things and rinse them in the river. Once they were done and put away, I suddenly felt very tired; I’d had a long couple of days and not a lot of sleep in the middle. Clambering into the tent, I turned the radio on quietly and told Gareth that I was going to have a rest.

“Ok, I’m going for a swim then. See you later.”

Two hours later I was awoken from a deep sleep when I was conscious of the tent flaps being drawn closed. Gareth had crawled in and was tying the fly-sheets together.

“I’m tired,” he yawned. “Can I join you?”

Stretching an arm out, I invited him to lay down with me, “But take those things off first, they’re wet.”

Doing as he was asked, he threw them in the corner, dragged a sleeping bag over us and cuddled up close, facing me. Putting a thumb in his mouth, he draped his arm over me and closed his eyes. Two minutes later I felt him turn over, stick his butt in my groin and curl up once more, but this time he lazily took my hand and placed it over his still cold and prune-like cock and balls. Sighing contentedly, he wriggled his butt closer to my prick and fell asleep again. It took quite an effort for me to get back to sleep, and only then after I manoeuvred my dick between his butt cheeks to give it some space to expand in!

It was almost dark when I woke up, still in the same position and feeling a lot better. Gareth was still sleeping like an angel and I was very reluctant to disturb him. I needed a piss, but decided to hold on for as long as possible, I was much too comfortable to move. Idly, I felt Gareth’s hard dick in my hand, and gently started to play with it, running my fingers up and down its length. He stirred slightly, moaned and pushed back just a little. Gradually he came to, twisting over to face me.

“Good here isn’t it?” he sighed, “I wish it could go on forever.”

“Perfect!” I agreed and gave him a kiss and hug. “But I gotta go.”

I decided not to get dressed, but poked my head out of the fly sheets, checked that no one was in sight and crawled out to relieve myself against the side of the Landrover. I was soon joined by Gareth who stood alongside me and grinned as we played piss-fights until we were drained. Hurrying back inside, I lay down again with Gareth, staring at the ridge of the tent. Trying to find the spot he had warmed up, Gareth stretched out alongside me, threw a leg over and rested his head on my chest.

“What shall we do tonight?” I asked. “Apart from that!” I added, giving him a squeeze.

“Dunno. Got any ideas?”

We were wide awake now and a quick look at my wrist watch showed it was only eight o’clock. “How about a walk?” I suggested.

Once we’d found some clean clothes and dressed ourselves, we set off for a stroll down the riverbank. There wasn’t a great deal to look at but the scenery. We were at the bottom of a steep-sided valley, with the Welsh granite rocks climbing skywards. It was a fine, clear evening and we watched the kestrels wheeling about in the sky, hunting for their supper. We sat down on the bank and watched, fascinated. I felt Gareth’s arm wrap round my waist and I moved towards him. There was hardly a sound anywhere, only the occasional bird making its presence felt before settling down for the night.

We chatted together for a while about nothing in particular, enjoying the evening air until it got dark. Arms on each other’s shoulders we drifted back to find something to eat. Cold meat sandwiches and hot cups of coffee were quickly produced and we settled down to watch tv for a while.

I don’t think sex was on the agenda particularly that evening; in some ways we’d over-dosed ourselves the past 24 hours and a bit of respite was in order. Still dressed, we sat on the floor and ate our food in silence.

Around midnight we undressed and lay down for the night, with Gareth nestled up in front of me, cuddled up close. In view of the heat, we were naked and uncovered. Once the television was turned off, we listened for a few minutes to the night noises and appreciated the complete isolation.

I was mistaken about the sex part of course. It didn’t take him long to worm his way to my into my groin and take hold of my cock. He stroked with feather-light strokes waiting for it to respond, which it did in very short order. Even then, I wasn’t sure whether he wanted any proper fun and games or not, or just the comfort. I reached down and found him to be already up and proud, the radiant heat making it much easier to find!

Leaning over him I kissed him softly on the lips, and whispered, “Thank you,” in his ear.

“For what?” he replied.

“For just being you.”

He stared at me for a minute and I watched as a pair of tears ran down his cheeks. Getting closer, I licked them up and pecked his pert little nose.

He accepted the compliment gracefully with just a hint of a wistful smile and settled down again. I lay my hand on his chest and began to twist his nipples gently between my fingers, first one side and then the other. I hadn’t expected very much to happen as mine never seem to respond to this sort of stimulation, but Gareth’s perked up instantly, accompanied by a guttural sigh.

“That’s nice!” he moaned.

Leaving go of his cock for the time being, I flirted with his tiny nipples as I kissed him deeply and held him tight. Joining in the moment, he clasped his hand behind my shoulders and returned the kiss, passionately and lovingly. Still embracing we rolled around the floor having a rough-and-tumble, laughing and giggling all the while, trying to escape from the clutches of the other – not too hard of course. We kissed, fondled, touched and tickled each other all over, with no holds barred. It’s been years since I’d had this sort of fun, and I don’t suppose Gareth has had much of it either, we were hysterical with laughter. Eventually Gareth had me pinned to the ground with his knees in my shoulders. Moving down he kissed me tenderly and sat back, tears flowing down his face, but of laughter this time. As he sat back my prick made contact with his butt and bounced up out of the way. I saw a sparkle in his eye which could only mean one thing – he’d been reminded of an earlier promise I’d made.

Suddenly becoming serious, he said, “Do you think we could try and do it now?” It was the pleading in his voice which persuaded me, against my better judgement. He saw this final act as a sort of rite of passage I guess and would be the ultimate act of the love which had grown between us. There was no way I could deny him this last gift and so I agreed that we could have a go. “But, you’re in charge and the minute you say so, we’ll stop and try again some other time.”

There was no frivolity this time, he was being deadly serious. He knew that it would hurt, at least to begin with, and that we might not even be able to do it, but he desperately wanted to try it.

“How do we do it?” he questioned, still squatting astride me. “What do I do?”

“Get the jar of Vaseline from the First Aid box in the car and I’ll show you.” I said hoarsely.

In seconds he’d found the jar and was back, standing in front of me, prick erect and proffering the container at me like a votive offering.

I smoothed a good amount of the grease on my tool and made sure the foreskin was well peeled back from my cockhead. With a little difficulty I spread the lubricant around and inside his butt and we were ready.

“There are two ways I suppose which are easy,” I told him, “Either you can lay on your back and put your legs over my shoulders, or you can try and sit down on it with me underneath.”

He paused for a moment or two thinking it over. “I wanna try and sit down on you. Then I can look at you as well.”

Planting his feet either side of me, I held his wrists as he very slowly lowered himself downwards. When he felt my dick touch him, he let go of one hand and held my cock in place as he relaxed the muscles in his legs and sunk a bit lower. I felt his virgin hole tighten as we made contact. He stopped, waited for it to relax and pushed himself down, eyes closed, mouth tight shut and a look of intense concentration on his face. He held my hand with a vice like grip as he suffered the first agonising shoot of pain.

“Easy,” I said, “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

Lifting up slightly, he took a deep breath and went down again. Once again he spasmed shut, but soon loosened up. He suddenly let himself drop about halfway down my cock. Screaming out, he dug his nails into my hand, enough to draw blood, not noticing at the time. I reached out to pull him off, but he shook his head wildly from side to side, “It’s OK. It’s OK. Leave me!”

Very gently he continued downwards, absorbing my full length of raging prick until he settled on my crotch. Bringing his other hand round now, he entwined his fingers with mine and gripped tightly. Slowly the pain dissipated from his face, his muscles relaxed and his eyes opened.

“Did it. Did it. I DID IT!” he said loudly, beaming from ear to ear. “Phil! I’ve done it!”

He sat there for what must have been five minutes rocking from side to side every so often and not letting go of my hands for a second. Once the last vestiges of pain had gone, experimentally he started to lift himself up a few centimetres before lowering himself and getting his breath. Imperceptibly the length of his stroke increased until he was using my full length. Twice he misjudged it and I slipped out, only to be pushed back in again instantly with a mouthed “Fuck it!” each time.

After a while he settled into a smooth rhythm and managed to give me a weak smile of triumph once in a while, holding my hands a lot less painfully now. Abruptly he changed his pace, let out an ecstatic whimper and froze in mid-stroke, his eyes ablaze. I assumed he’d found his prostate – and how! Moving just a tiny fraction up and down, he hit it time and time again, panting for breath, his mouth wide open. I watched his cock as it grew redder and redder, beating in time with his heart. There was no way he could take very much of this sort of arousal, especially on his first time.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” he cried out as his magic button was pressed.

It wasn’t long before he started to orgasm: I could even see the little tube expand as the first wads of cum fired their way out, shooting straight up in the air with phenomenal pressure. He emitted a low growl which swiftly rose to a scream; his butt cheeks spasmed and milked my dick, giving me the most breath-taking cum I’d had for ages and ages. Predictably, he stiffened up, back arched forwards, his little belly forced out, and his hands locked in mine: even the visible pulse in his neck seemed to pause for a moment as his trance kicked in. Carefully taking his shoulders, I eased him down to lay on top of me and rested his forehead on mine.

Gradually his breathing slowed down and his eyes re-focussed, only to look into mine with a stare of complete and utter bewilderment.

“Why… Why …. Why didn’t you tell me how bloody fantastic that is? It was unbelievable – and I came again without even touching it!”

I was happy for him. More than that, I was over the moon with joy. What could have so easily been a complete disaster turned out to be a wonderful event, not only for him but me as well. This was a night never to be forgotten, our love for each other proven beyond doubt. Gareth celebrated as any boy would, with a tin of Coke and a bar of chocolate. The momentous event which had just happened wasn’t mentioned – it just wasn’t the ‘done thing’ to talk about it, but he was bubbling over with excitement and full of himself: in different circumstance he would have been bouncing off the walls!

We did it once more that night, or rather in the early hours of the morning. There was no chance of Gareth getting any sleep that night; as far as he was concerned it was Christmas, birthday and any other celebrations he could think off all rolled into one.

“Can we do it again, but the other way?” he asked.

“You sure?” I questioned.

“Yeah, I wanna do it again.”

I was as excited as he was, now that we’d crossed the final bridge I was more than willing to give him what he wanted. Smearing a little Vaseline on my fingers, I eased one in his butt, encouraging him to relax as much as possible. He was already thrashing around on the floor as I gently introduced a second finger and worked it around.

“Ready?” I asked, looking at his beautiful face.

“Yes, yes. Go on, put it in now.”

I rolled up the blanket, put it under his butt and got him to rest his legs on my shoulders. I crawled forwards, aiming my cock at the waiting orifice. To my surprise, there was absolutely no resistance as I pushed forward: I slipped in with no effort whatsoever – the boy was a natural! With just the merest hint of a grimace, he watched as I sank in as deep as I could before pausing.

“OK?” I questioned.

“Mmmmmmmm! That’s good!”

We leaned towards each other and kissed tenderly once before he whispered insistently, “Go on.”

Not having the desperate need to rush things, I started to move in and out of him, slowly and carefully, making sure I gave him as much pleasure as I could. His ankles locked behind me as if making sure that I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to. As I pushed down, he followed through, lifting his butt up to meet me and squeezing his cheeks together at the same time.

“Deeper … Deeper … Deeper. Go on!” Gareth stuttered as I fucked him. He started to jerk himself off, rhythmically matching me stroke for stroke. “Bloody Hell!” he moaned.

Smiling at him, I just had to go faster as I felt my nuts begin to boil and what little was left of my sperm started its fantastic journey.

Deep. Hard. Deep and Hard, I thrust forwards. He was aware of how close I was getting and sympathetically worked his dick quicker.

“I’m cumming – now! I shouted, this time beating Gareth to it. “Oh, Jesus!” And I shot my second load of the night, coating Gareth’s insides with my hot cum.

“I’m …” was all Gareth could manage before he dropped his load on his belly and chest.

This time there was no panic attack from him, simply an exhausted sigh and a “Fuck!” mouthed almost silently.

“You like that, don’t you?” I asked him a bit later.

“Yes. It’s terrific, better than anything else.”

I embraced him as I told him we could do it whenever he wanted, and we drifted off to sleep at last, still holding each other’s soft cock for comfort.


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