Miles of Smiles
I didn’t think too much about this conversation for a few days until the following Wednesday when Miles came to visit.
“Mum likes your flat,” he said as he worked his way through a plate of Spag. Bol. I’d made for us. “Said it was surprisingly neat and tidy for a man living alone,” he giggled.
I looked at him curiously. From the way he’d spoken, there was more to come.
“And?” I queried.
“I can come here whenever I like!” he almost shouted, “We’re not on probation anymore!”
With that he leapt up from from his chair, bounded across to me and planted a big, wet kiss on my lips then sat himself on my lap. I wiped the spicy sauce from our lips and kissed him back, hugging him tightly. “Really?” I asked.
“Yep. Long as I’m home by about ten, and they know I’m here, it’s OK!”
I was over the moon. Obviously the visit I’d had the other day had had some effect on his mother and I’d passed some sort of test or other. Perhaps it was the work she’d seen, or the tidiness of the place, or whatever – I didn’t care, I was just happy.
“What made them change their mind?” I asked.
“Dunno really. Dad said something about being pleased to hear I was doing OK at college and that you had a lot to do with it.”
“Of course,” I laughed. “If it wasn’t for me doing all your work for you, you’d be out on your ear!”
“Piss Off! You don’t help me as much as that, and you know it.” Miles grinned.
Miles settled himself more comfortably in my lap and wrapped his arms round my neck happily.
I looked at his face, his joy evident in his sparkling eyes and contented smile. A tide of love flushed through me and I hugged him tighter, planting a kiss on his forehead. Miles smiled up at me and sighed.
We sat in comfortable silence for ages, neither of us moving. Until that is, Miles wriggled his butt into my groin and looked at me, a wicked leer on his face which could mean only one thing.
“Bedroom?” he whispered.
“Homework?” I replied.
“In the bedroom,” he sniggered. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Sliding off my knees, he pulled me to my feet and looked at me longingly.
I gazed back at him, radiating all the love I felt for him. I also realised with a shock how much he’d grown since I’d first known him. He was almost as tall as me now, and not far off my weight either. There were other things too. More personal things which only he and I knew about – the magnificent bush of hair he was sprouting and the slow but certain growth of that part of him that made him a boy. What had once been his four (and a bit!) inches was now a certain six inches, and all the better for it! There was also his increased maturity. No longer was he a nervous, uncertain youngster afraid of his own feelings, but a handsome young man, comfortable with his sexuality at least as far as he and I were concerned.
That isn’t to say that he didn’t relapse into a skittish, impatient child once in a while as he demonstrated now by stripping off as fast as he could and standing impatiently before me, his beautiful erection bouncing up and down expectantly between us.
I finished undressing and took hold of his wrists, unashamedly looking at him slowly from head to toe as if for the first time.
“Beautiful!” I murmured. “Simply beautiful!”
“Bollocks!” he laughed, letting go of me and jumping in to bed, but not before I’d noticed the slight reddening of his face and chest.
“Men aren’t beautiful,” he said as we embraced and made ourselves comfortable. “Men are good-looking or handsome, not beautiful.”
“Rubbish!” I argued as I stroked his hair. “Lots of men are handsome or good-looking, but very few are beautiful.”
“But only women are beaut …” he started to say, but then it dawned on him what I actually implied.
He blushed even deeper and stopped smiling.
“You really lo… Really like me,” he whispered quietly.
“More than I can say,” I replied.
Suddenly he wrapped himself round me, legs entwined with mine and his arms clasped tightly round my neck. He kissed me fervently and passionately, allowing his emotions to flow freely, along with a few tears.
“I fuckin’ hate you!” he whispered as we broke apart. “You made me cry again.”
“Tears of?” I ventured.
“Dunno. I’m so, so happy it hurts,” he said after some thought.
“Me too.” I told him.
We cuddled in silence for a while as our emotions subsided a bit.
“It’s not just the sex, is it,” Miles said. Statement, not question.
“No, it never has been really, has it?”
“No, I don’t suppose so,” Miles replied. “That’s nice, but it’s not everything is it? Never really thought about it properly before.”
I turned over on to my back and rested Miles’ head on my chest, hands clasped in the small of his back.
“When we first met at school, you know, when you showed me that story you found, I started to like you then but I couldn’t do anything about it because I was your teacher. I even tried to stop seeing you, but you wouldn’t let me,” I half-laughed. “You were such a persistent, manipulative character that I had no chance!”
“Sorry!” Miles mumbled, “But I really liked you.”
“That’s what I mean. It wasn’t the sex then, and it isn’t the sex now. It’s just for some unknown reason we like each other a great deal, and in a way which not many people are lucky enough to find. The sex is a sort of bonus, an added extra if you like. Important, but not essential if you see what I mean.”
I thought I might be going too far with Miles, asking him to understand something which he may be too young to comprehend, and so stopped to let him absorb it.
“We’re special, aren’t we?” Miles pondered. “I mean special to each other. Like we aren’t sort of complete without each other.”
“Exactly. How’s that make you feel?”
“Good,” Miles said. “But a bit sorta scared as well.”
“Scared? What of?”
“Dunno. That perhaps one day we won’t want to see each other anymore. That p’raps one day we won’t like each other so much.”
“Do you think that’ll ever happen?” I said.
“No. Never.” Miles said firmly, pressing himself against me as hard as he could.
“Me neither, but you can never tell.”
“Bollocks!” he said as much to himself as to me.
Once again we drifted off into our own thoughts for a while. I thought Miles had drifted off to sleep in fact – he was so quiet. I turned our conversation over in my mind as we relaxed together. I’d written about this sort of conversation several times in the stories I’d written and was familiar with the scenario, but to meet it myself for the first time was totally different to what I imagined. There was no way had I even come close to explaining the emotions and feelings that pervaded the atmosphere – it was much more intense than I could ever put down in writing, which for an ex- teacher of English is quite an admission. Smiling ruefully to myself, I embraced the young man in my arms and rested.
“My dicks gone soft,” Miles giggled after a few minutes, bringing me out of my somewhat self-indulgent reverie.
“So? What do you expect me to do about it?” I asked, grateful for the change in atmosphere.
“Talk to it. Play with it. Do what you like, it’s all yours,” he laughed. “I don’t care. Just do something with it!”
Instantly the intense atmosphere we’d created for ourselves evaporated as I reached down and grasped the offending member, stroking it back to life much to our mutual satisfaction. My own member rose up in unison, much to Miles’ delight as he wrapped his delicate fingers round it.
“That’s better,” he sighed happily. “Wanna suck it and see?”
For the next hour we rolled and tumbled about in the bed like hyperactive kids on a sugar high, revelling in the intimacy of close physical contact and shared passions. Eventually we tired ourselves out and fell back in the bed, cuddling one another gently.
“I could stay here for ever,” Miles muttered contentedly as he listened to my heart beat.
“Me too,” I agreed.
“Think my mum and dad will ever let me stay overnight again?” Miles asked.
“Not in a million years,” I sniggered. “They may not be certain that we are a bit more than friends, but an overnight stop would put it beyond doubt I would think.”
“Why?” Miles said. “If we wanted to mess about, we could do it whenever we wanted in the daytime. Staying overnight wouldn’t make things any different.”
“No, but look at it from their point of view. Spending time here in the daytime is OK – we could be working together, or just talking for that matter, but an overnight sleep-over would almost force them into facing the possibility that we are more than just friends. Remember that your dad at least has a rough idea of what is going on, but so far he’s ignoring it. Wanting to sleep here would probably confirm his worst thoughts.”
“So? I would tell him that nothing happened; that we just watched films or something and I slept in the spare bed.”
“Do you think he’d believe you? That I spent the night in the company of the most attractive and sexy boy I know and that we did nothing except eat pizza and watch ‘Harry Potter’? That you undressed, showered and changed into your pyjamas without me trying to take advantage of your innocence? He knows us both too well to believe that.”
“ ‘Spose so. But there must be a way round it,” Miles giggled. “I’ll work on it.”
“In that case, your dad might just as well give in now,” I laughed. “He’s got no chance if you’ve made your mind up.”
“Hope so,” he whispered as we embraced and kissed once more.
Sliding his legs out of bed, Miles stretched and yawned widely. “I need a shower,” he informed me, and set about gathering his long-forgotten clothes together. Entranced, I watched him, unable to take my eyes off his stunning nakedness. With clothes bundled in his arms, he turned to face me.
“Perv!” he laughed, wriggling his for-once flaccid cock at me.
“Piss off!” I mouthed back, putting a hand on my own anything but soft dick.
And so life went on. Miles and I slipped into a pleasant routine which suited us both, and more importantly, satisfied his parents. I still had visits from his mother fairly regularly, but they became much more friendly and sociable, after all my flat was conveniently situated for a coffee break when she was out working or shopping. More than once Miles was already at home with me when she turned up, and thankfully he was either working or watching TV when she arrived. Experience had taught us to reserve our other activities until the evening when we could be sure she was at home.
The next sea-change in our domestic life came the following January when the college changed Miles’ timetable. Because of staff changes, Miles English History class had been moved to a Monday evening, starting at seven and finishing at about half past eight. Right from the start, there were problems. Firstly his parents decided, quite rightly, that it was unsafe for him to use his bike at night, the main road being far too dangerous in the dark. He tried to use the bus a few times, but more often than not, there were groups of the local yobs riding the buses who made life uncomfortable, if not dangerous, for Miles. I was aware of the problem of course, but thought that it had been sorted out when it was arranged for either his mother or father to pick him up from college. This didn’t last long as neither of them really wanted their evenings broken into by a drive into town and back at a time which wasn’t always convenient. For a couple of weeks, Miles came round to my flat after college and his parents dropped by to pick him up sometime later in the evening, but even this palled one particularly stormy night.
At about ten o’clock, Miles and I were disturbed by the ‘phone ringing. There could only be one person who would call at this time of night: Miles and I looked at each other questioningly.
“Hello?” I said, staring at Miles.
It was his father.
“Look,” he said. “Would you mind if Miles stayed with you tonight? It’s a filthy evening and neither Sheila nor I fancy going out in it. I know Miles won’t object, but is it OK with you?”
“Yes, of course, it’d be a pleasure.”
“Mmmm,” he replied thoughtfully. “Put Miles on will you?”
I watched Miles face change from concern to happiness as he listened to his dad.
“Yes. Yes. No.” I heard Miles say, his joy only just being contained.
Putting the ‘phone down almost before he’d said ‘goodnight’, Miles bounded across the room and threw his arms round me, grinning from ear to ear. As we hugged, I was left in no doubt as to how pleased he was at the unexpected turn of events, the hardness pressing into my thigh told me all I needed to know.
“So, what did he say?” I asked.
“Just told me to behave myself and make sure I get to college on time in the morning,” he sniggered.
“And are you?”
“What? Getting to college on time? Of course.”
“And behave yourself?”
“Of course. Don’t I always?”
I think his definition of ‘behave’ was rather different to his father’s, but who was I to argue?
“OK, then. Let’s get things organised.” I said. “You go and make the spare bed up and I’ll get us some supper.”
Miles took a step back and looked at me as if I was insane. “What?” he said in disbelief.
“Supper,” I confirmed. “I assume you’re hungry?”
“No. I mean yes, but the spare bed?”
“Of course. Didn’t I just hear you say you’d behave yourself?”
“Well, yeah. But I didn’t mean …” he tailed off, confused.
I couldn’t keep it up of course, and broke out in a fit of giggles. I was just as happy as him, and there was no way that he would sleep alone if I had anything to do with it.
“Make the bed up anyway. We’re sure to get a visit tomorrow from your mum, and the least she’ll expect is to see that the bed has been used.”
“Oh, yeah. Hadn’t thought of that. Better go and do it I suppose. I’ll get ready for bed at the same time,” he added, giving me an unmistakeable leer.
Before long we were in front of the TV with a snack in front of us. Miles had ‘got ready for bed’ simply by stripping down to his briefs. Without a trace of embarrassment he pushed me down onto the sofa, removed my shirt and loosened my trousers. Once the lights had been dimmed, he arranged himself with his head in my lap and almost purred with delight as he made himself comfortable. To give him his due, he tried to behave as ‘grown up’ as possible, just as if what we were doing was perfectly normal and routine. He gave himself away though by turning round to look at me every so often and grinning like an impish child doing something naughty, his eyes shining happily.
It was evident that there were other things on his mind other than the inane TV programme we were watching as before long he turned over to put his back to the television, wrapped his arms round my waist and snuggled up closely.
“What time we going to bed?” he asked, faking a deep yawn.
“ ‘Bout eleven I suppose,” I told him, glancing at the clock which read just after 10.30.
Miles pulled a grimace and said, “That’s a bit late. I’m tired now.”
“So? You know where it is, go now if you like. I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed.”
Miles started to say something, but changed his mind, stuck his tongue out at me mischievously and rubbed his head against my cock. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that his own dick was already hard in anticipation. Gently I rested a hand on it, feeling its stiffness and warmth through his pants.
He moaned quietly and looked up at me. “Please?” he mouthed.
I was of course just as keen as he was to get bed, but I couldn’t resist teasing him just a little more.
“Ten minutes,” I smiled.
“Five?” he giggled.
“Five,” I agreed.
We would have made the five minutes if Miles hadn’t decided to help things along by stretching down and removing his last piece of clothing, leaving him enticingly naked, his erection pointing in my direction.
“Not fair!” I smiled, closing my eyes to rid myself of the vision.
I felt his lips meet mine in a tender, urgent kiss.
“Come on,” he whispered hoarsely, “The five minutes will be up by the time we get into bed.”
One of the nicest aspects of my flat was that once you were in bed with all the lights out, you had a magnificent view of the night sky. I had spent many a night simply staring at the stars in wonderment and awe, counting the shooting stars. Miles, happy now that we were sharing our bed together, did his usual thing and cuddled up to me and gave me a kiss. Neither of us were ever anxious to get into the sex bit straight away, the company of each other being much more important.
“Wow! He said quietly looking up at the heavens for the first time. “That’s fantastic!”
It was too: not only had I got a brilliant view through the window, but I had a beautiful boy to share it with as well. Feeling surprisingly at peace with the world, I leaned over and gave Miles a deep kiss in gratitude for life being so generous and good to me.
We chatted about Miles college for a while, about how he was getting on and stuff. We also talked about his life at home in round-about terms, deciding eventually that his parents knew about us in all probability and had more or less accepted it.
“We were right then,” he sighed.
“Not telling them straight out that we were, are, ‘partners’, and letting them work it out for themselves.”
“Yeah, guess so. Your dad almost surely knows anyway.”
“So does mum then,” Miles added.
“What do you think about it?” I asked.
“Dunno. I’m sorta glad they know, I couldn’t ever have told them outright. At least they’ve stopped asking me about girlfriends,” he laughed.
Gradually the conversation died down as we took pleasure in each other, our kisses and embraces getting more passionate as we lost ourselves in our private world.
As I let my hands wander, I soon found them cupping his beautiful butt, pulling his groin tightly into mine, relishing the feeling of our dicks being squeezed together. For some reason, I began to run a finger between his butt cheeks, slowly working it deeper and deeper until I came across that one part of his body that I’d never touched. With a shock, I realised what I was doing and pulled my hand away, apologising. We’d never trodden this route before, not so directly anyway. We’d talked about it once before, but only en passant so to speak and not in any depth – neither of us had been interested in taking it any further.
That’s why I was astonished when Miles put my hand back and whisper, “Put it back. I like that. Feels good.”
Doing as I was told, I replaced my finger and began to toy with him delicately.
Miles shuddered slightly as I pushed a finger against his hole, hugged me even tighter and moaned. Suddenly his hole opened and my finger slipped in. Before I could withdraw it, Miles clamped a hand over mine and stopped me.
His breathing quickened and I felt him shudder again. It took him a minute or two to get used to the intrusion and move his hand away.
“Leave it in,” he said quietly. “It feels OK.”
Very slowly I started to work my finger in and out, pressing in deeper and deeper with each move, concentrating on making it feel as good as possible for him and searching for that little spot that I knew was there somewhere.
When I found it, Miles eyes flashed open and his jaw dropped in astonishment, his dick getting even harder as I tickled his prostate.
I could feel that he was getting closer and closer to orgasm as I played around, but pulled out before he did – I didn’t want to bring things to a head so quickly, it was early yet.
“That was different!” he grinned as I embraced him. Then, after a pause he added seriously, “What’s it like? You know, doing ‘it’.”
“I don’t, or didn’t, like it much,” I started. “I wasn’t much older than you – It was with a mate of mine I knew from school. Neither of us liked it very much, probably because we didn’t know what we were doing!” I laughed.
“What and never tried since?” he asked, his mind obviously ticking over.
“Couple of times at College. It was better then because we knew more what to do, but I’m still not sure about it.”
“What, about using lube? KY Jelly and stuff?” Miles giggled.
The bloody internet had a lot to answer for, I thought to myself. I didn’t even know things like that existed until I was at college.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That helps, but I still think it’s a bit sort of brutal.”
“Can we try it?” Miles whispered plaintively. “I’d really like to.”
“I don’t know,” I said, stroking his hair. “You might not like it. I don’t have any lube anyway.”
“I don’t mean now. Later on, you know, when we’re in the mood. I wouldn’t mind trying it once just to see what it’s like.”
I sighed deeply and looked at him, trying to judge how serious he was. His face told me everything needed to know and so I replied, “Perhaps.”
This was enough for him and the subject was dropped at least for the time being, but I knew Miles well enough to know that the topic wasn’t closed by any means and I’d better get a stock of KY in.
Despite knowing where it had just been, Miles took my finger and put it in his mouth, covering it with a good layer of spit. “Put it back,” he said. “I think I could get to like it!”
This time I managed to work two fingers in, much to Miles delight and I finger-fucked him as slowly as I could, watching his face contort with ecstasy as I played with him. He started to jack me off in time with my manipulations, but soon lost interest as he approached orgasm. Hugging him tightly, I speeded up and watched as he spasmed time and time again, releasing a fountain of juice against my navel. He shivered and shuddered for what seemed like ages until he’d finished: his whole body glowing with an all-over flush, eyes glassed over and his mouth agape.
Once he’d regained his senses, he shook his head disbelievingly and just managed to stammer out “Fuckin’ Hell!” before he broke out in a fit of giggles.
We dozed off and on then until well after midnight, Miles then dropping off to a deep sleep, still embracing me. I lay awake for a little while, turning things over in my mind until I too fell asleep …
… Only to be awoken in the early hours by Miles sucking me gently. Without once interrupting his rhythm, his eyes smiled at me as he concentrated. I lay back and let him carry on until I shot my load straight down his throat.
Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he simply said, “You didn’t get off last night, so I thought I’d do something about it!”
“Thanks!” I grinned. “I like being woken up like that.”
I’d long since found that the time between when you wake up and when you have to get out of bed is the best time of the day, particularly when you have a little Adonis sharing it with you. Lazily we stared out of the window at the rising sun, thinking of nothing at all except each other.
“Time is it?” I asked sometime later.
“ ’bout seven,” Miles yawned. “Time we got up I suppose. Unless we got time for ….”
“No, we haven’t!” I said. “I know you. Once we start, we’d be here all day!”
“So?” he giggled. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“What, and have your mother’s suspicions confirmed absolutely? I don’t think she’d be too impressed by finding us like this, do you?”
“ ‘spose not,” Miles agreed, then added, “If I know my mum, she’ll be here before she goes to work.”
“Sure?” I asked, panicking slightly.
“Almost. I know how her mind works.”
“Right,” I said as the information soaked into my brain. “Let’s get organised. You make the spare bed look like it’s been slept in and then grab a shower. I’ll start breakfast and shower after you.”
She arrived at about a quarter to eight, by which time Miles and I had showered, dressed and were having breakfast.
“Thought I’d just drop by to see how Miles is,” she smiled. “I know what he’s like in the morning!”
“He’s fine,” I said, looking over at him as innocently as I could. “Help yourself to coffee, it’s over on the side.”
Sheila helped herself, taking the opportunity to ruffle Miles hair as she passed and ask how he was.
“Mmmm!” he mumbled, his mouth full of food.
“Good!” she replied and started to wander about the flat as we carried on eating. We were undergoing an inspection, of that I was sure. It didn’t take her long to check the beds out and notice with a wry smile that Miles back-pack was in the middle of the spare room and that the bed was in a mess. Not for the first time, I thanked the gods for Miles intelligence and quick thinking.
Evidently satisfied, she joined us at the table and helped herself to a slice of toast.
“Want a lift?” she said to Miles as she got ready to leave.
“Yes, please,” Miles said, “If you’re going that way.”
“Come on then,” she went on. “Thanks, Alec.”
“That’s OK,” I replied, grateful that she was on her way.
On her way out, she stooped down and picked up Miles underpants from the living room floor. With hardly a change in pace, she handed them to Miles and said, “You’d better put these in your bag and bring them home with you.” Her face showed no emotion at all.
Blushing deeply, Miles took them and simply said, “Wondered where they’d got to. I changed for bed in here last night and I couldn’t find ’em this morning.”
I’m sure that I blushed just as much as Miles, but fortunately she never turned round to look at me. ‘Oh fuck!’ was my only thought.
Once they’d gone, I collapsed on the sofa and cursed myself for not checking round the flat. ‘Now,’ I thought to myself, ‘The shit is really gonna hit the fan!’
Some ten minutes later, the phone rang, almost giving me heart attack.
“Hello?” I said nervously.
“Watcha!” said a surprisingly chirpy Miles. “Almost crapped myself,” he laughed. “Talk about being embarrassed!”
“What’d she say?” I stammered out.
“Not much. Just told me to be more careful where I leave my things in future.”
“You reckon she knows then?”
“If she didn’t then, she knows now,” he went on, a note of seriousness creeping in to his voice. “Or as good as anyway.”
“How? What?” I queried.
“She asked me which bed I slept in.”
“Christ! What did you say?”
“Nothing. I just looked at her and didn’t answer.”
“Damn!” I said with feeling.
“Don’t worry. I think she’s OK with it. When she dropped me off, she kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loves me! If she’d been really pissed off, I would’ve got the silent treatment and she’d’ve grounded me.”
“Thank Christ for that,” I said.
“Anyway, I gotta go. See you tonight!”
Before I could say anything, the line went dead and I replaced the receiver thoughtfully. What were the last words he said? See you tonight? I was mistaken surely.
I was wrong. Miles arrived just after four o’clock, breathless and sweaty.
Once we’d hugged and kissed, Miles sat on the kitchen table and watched as I made tea for us.
“I thought I’d shit myself when she gave me my pants,” he sniggered. “I didn’t think, just put on the clean pair I brought with me.”
“You and me both,” I agreed. “What else did she say?”
“Not much. Like I told you, just hugged me and told me she loves me. It’s what she didn’t say that’s important. She didn’t have a go at me or anything and she must know that at the very least, I must’ve stripped off in front of you. And she didn’t say I couldn’t come here anymore.”
“So, what happens next?”
“Nothing much I expect. I only stopped by to tell you all about it. I’m not stopping too long, I got some homework to do and I didn’t tell here I was coming here. Be here Friday though, and I’m gonna stay the night.”
I looked at him and raised my eyebrows questioningly.
“Leave it to me. That’ll be no problem, not now I’ve stayed once.”
He paused for a moment, grasping his tea thoughtfully.
“I think she knows you and me are OK. Really OK, I mean. Good friends as well as everything else. You ain’t just after my body!” he smiled.
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