Chapter Thirty One ~ a naked dream which almost came true

The double fronted detached Georgian house where I had my room was impressive, even to the most undiscerning eye. In only the harsh yellow street light it was hard to see the beautiful narrow mortaring between the fine smooth faced red bricks and the carved details around the stone window mullions; it did get a whispered whistle of approval from my passenger.

“You’ll have to wait here a minute, I’m not supposed to have people back.”

Waiting for some acknowledgement, there wasn’t any.

“I’ll see if the coast is clear, but you’ll have to be very quiet.”

I really hadn’t thought this through.

Letting myself in as noiselessly as I could, having realised the time was closer to dawn than dusk, there was no sound from the rest of the house; I didn’t know what I was expecting as the neither of the other cars were in the drive. Standing again for a moment to listen, I spotted a note standing up prominently on the hall table. ‘Can’t play game tomorrow, gone away until Sunday afternoon, sorry. Thanks. John’. This could only be good.

With rather more of a spring to my step, I put the outside porch light on and went back to the car. My passenger had been left sitting in the dark and silence as I had taken the car key with me; I wasn’t completely stupid.

“All clear, they’re out.”

Now on home territory I was a little more confident in myself and it was Michael who looked less comfortable as the wide front door closed behind us.

“Would you like a drink, tea?” I wasn’t going down the hard-drinking route at this point despite my need for Dutch courage.

“Thanks, that’s good of you, two sugars for me,” he was busy taking in the rich appointments of the place; I was still thinking perhaps this was not a clever idea.

“Come into the kitchen while I make it.”

It was not that I didn’t trust him, but in the kitchen, we wouldn’t run any risks. Once the drinks were made I broke yet another difficult silence.

“Let’s take these up to my room, I don’t like to use the sitting room when they’re not here,” it was true, I had always not tried to impose myself, “don’t look so worried,” I had noticed his little face was starting to screw itself up.

My room was just that, a room. With the use of other facilities of course but most of my time was spent in the large, bay windowed, upstairs front bedroom. There were a few pieces of furniture but no bed. It had previously been part of a two-room arrangement; the last occupant had the additional use of a bedroom proper at the back of the house. Currently there were the two of us lodging so he had the bed but I contented myself with a fold out sofa arrangement to make the room self-contained. The other lodger was on an extended student trip somewhere out of the country, hence my now more relaxed state of occupation.

“Make yourself comfortable, sit wherever you want,” it was a choice of only two places.

“Are we going to do it in here?” He was looking round puzzled, “You don’t have a bed?”

“We don’t have to do anything, I told you that, just relax, it’s fine.”

I must have sounded unsure as he smiled a tight uncertain grimace, but I continued to outline the other arrangements of the house. He didn’t seem any more settled, obviously still unsure about his procurement he started to mumble and fidget.

“No, it don’t feel right. If the others find out I didn’t do anything for youes they’ll have something to say about it, it’s all their money after all,” his rather frank correct deposition of the facts spoilt the mood, yet again.

“Look. You don’t want to, I don’t know if I want to, I don’t know if I can,” I paused too long which highlighted that rather sad admission, “can’t we just be together, you’re safe, I’m happy, we…,”

I realised I didn’t really know what ‘we’ were.

“OK, relax yourself, it’s OK.”

There was too much ‘OK’ing’ going on but no real resolution for my liking and I cut him off.

“I’m going to have a shower; do you want one?”

“No, not unless you want me to?”

This was too much.

“Look. If you do then do, if not, then don’t, if you want to just go, I’ll take you. I want a shower, I will have a shower and the rest is up to you,” a little too harsh perhaps?

He put the cup down and came perilously close to me.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “I’m not used to…”

He didn’t finish the sentence but put his arms around me instead, I didn’t hug him back.

Knowing I was going to break one of the golden rules of renting male bodies, as I looked down at his sweet face it didn’t stop me. In the split second it allowed him to pull away, thankfully he didn’t, and I took advantage of the soft compliant lips I had longed to kiss all evening.

Despite the slightly hamburger, onion, and larger breath, once the airtight seal was made between us I didn’t care. My experience in even this simple pleasure was limited, with men anyway and I hoped it didn’t show. Whatever we were managing, it was having the right effect in other physically reactions I had absolutely no control over. Pulling away to breath, I hoped I had made my point.

“I’m taking a shower,” I felt I needed to repeat my intentions to keep some reality about the situation, “do you need one?”

“Do you want…”

“Don’t start again! Yes, I’d like you to….”

He was already stripping off his top and kicking the fancy trainers into a corner of the room; I didn’t care about them as it was the rest of him which was engaging my attention.

He was much leaner than I had envisaged, skinny would be a better description. He slipped off the jeans and whatever he had beneath them in one flowing movement, I didn’t see any underwear, perhaps he didn’t have any. He stood up to let me admire the now fully exposed torso that, to my beleaguered and wanton eyes, was just perfect. A slim waist sat above hips which could have been better covered but smooth skin flowed round to the back to neat, tight, high, round buttocks which bulged seductively. He ran a hand over them as if to emphasise their perfect proportions, but it was probably just an innocent nervous gesture. At the front, there was the promise of something, but it was indistinct among the excess of pubic hair nestled below his slightly inset belly button on an otherwise flat stomach; the natural if unattractive hairy pubis could be improved easily. My calculating mind had interrupted the spectacle without being asked, the hair clippers were just in the draw there, a quick trim and a few strokes of a razor would tidy all that up without any effort at all. The interlude of my staring too intently would have looked more like a hungry dog wanting a juicy beef bone instead of just a caring concerned individual. No, let’s not get carried away, I was only just another punter hungry for the potential of his dick.

“Shower?”

He was smiling, almost laughing at my obvious indulgence and I flushed from the neck up at being caught out, again.

“Yes, right, I’ll…” lost for words once more I went to run the water.

Water and sex had always been one of my special ‘things’. It had started when I was younger and developed all through my sexually active life. By the time I had set the temperature and lowered the bamboo roller blind which constituted a shower curtain, a hand was exploring the front of my now greatly distended trousers trying to help me with my belt and shirt buttons, I knew this was going to be the most difficult part of the event; for me anyway.

Although I let him undress me, I felt distinctly awkward and yet thrilled at the same time. He obviously had some experience but it all became too much and with some gentle discouragement from ‘helping’ me, he climbed over the edge of the bath and under the now steaming jets of water.

The sight was a thing of ultimate fantasy as well as beauty. My eyes wouldn’t be torn away for a moment. Water channelled down the soft curves and gentle crevasses, steam rising in clouds as his body swaying and bent to catch the cleansing heat; I took a minute to just watch. He caught me watching, again.

“I thought youes wanted to have a shower,” he paused for an answer but retained his sweet if reproving smile, “do you want to wash my back for me?”

I didn’t need to be asked twice and invaded every facet, fold, and crevice, neither of us made any complaint about my ministrations to this end. Personally, I wanted to wash rather than be washed but that was just down to my obscure preconceptions of myself; Michael seemed to take the hint. Making sure I didn’t miss anywhere out, his inevitable sexual was granted easy access without comment. Hands were no longer enough. Taking up his small, perfectly formed and quickly growing erection with my prehensile lips, I teased away the foreskin from the tip of its head with my tongue. Despite having a variety of experiences like this in recent times, this seemed so very different, so much better; I couldn’t or rather didn’t want to think why; I managed to stop myself thinking altogether.

It didn’t take much to get a greater reaction from the quickly engorged but still delicate protrusion. As he gently but positively pushed himself further into my mouth I got the feeling this was not the usual way his oral sex was administered. He was not as mechanical as I had experienced with some of the others. His soft moaning seemed less spurious and came in gentle time with his movements. All this was helped by my grip on the soft mounds of his flexing buttocks. With one cheek in each hand I pulled him further onto my face to a point where he gasped and pulled away, fending me off from the rapidly twitching member. By pulling away, he had inadvertently pushed himself against my fingers resting against his rear opening; it was unfortunately squeezed tight against the water. Back at the front I watch a creamy droplet hang at the oval opening of his cock before being washed away; I wasn’t quick enough to taste it.

Although I was slightly disappointed, in one way his self-control might mean the glorious moment was yet be savoured. Both of us continued to carefully retreat from any climax each time either of us appeared to be reaching a point of no return. Despite the control, I think we both had an adequate amount of fun. He tried to include my heavily erect penis in the frivolity, but I had resisted the advances, now I just wanted some other glorious moment whatever it might be.

With the hot tank having only a finite amount of water, it wasn’t really meant to last the half hour or more we had been in there and I felt the chill of the room despite my excitement. Taking a large thick towel from the radiator, drying one’s companion was almost as much fun as washing them in the first place but to speed up the process, I managed to resist any further over excitement.

Returning to the bedroom I realised I hadn’t unfolded the bed. Again, very conscious of my nakedness, I switched the lights off before Michael came in. With the curtains still open the street lamp was enough and I was good at doing things in the dark remember. Within less than a minute a sheet was smoothed out and the duvet dragged from the bottom of the wardrobe and billowed out over it. Pillows flew from their storage place in the bottom draw of another elegant antique just in time for a now modestly towel clad Michael to join me. Wishing I had thought of covering myself up while I had the chance, I pulled back one corner of the thick duvet but went quickly round to the other side before climbed in and comfortably out of sight except for my face. Dropping the towel Michael stood for a moment as if just to show off; it was impossible not to look. He stood provocatively playing with the remains of his erection only to start the enlargement once more. Eventually he slid in next to me and pulled the cover over him, but his naked image was imprinted on the back of my eyes.

“You don’t have to do anything, I mean it, it’s just nice to have someone here, you don’t need to…”

He stopped my repetitive rambling with another kiss, shorter, harder but just as indulgent as before.

As if to try to emphasise my contention in another way, I slipped my arms around him and pulled his slight figure closer where he couldn’t do much of anything he might have been considering. Despite my now obvious excitement hidden under the covers, he didn’t make any further moves just relaxed into my chest entwined in my arms. This was nice; this was very nice.

Within a few moments I felt a gentle rumble through his chest cavity as his breathing fell into the easy rhythm of sleep. With slow, soft movements I took advantage of his somnolent state, caressing his neck, shoulders, and upper arms as I had often done with other people, when I was allowed. Any reservations I might have had about taking advantage of his carnal availability were not going to be so easy to hold off. With only positive but autonomous reactions coming from him, I ventured further into the darker reaches of the warm duvet.

His back was rather bony, the lack of meat or muscle made each vertebra more prominent than it really needed to be. Equally, each of the raised ribs was thinner although more delicate for it. Hard hip bones felt like coat hangers for the soft round buttocks which were not so much gluteus maximus and gluteus minimums with each one fitting easily into the cupping palm of my hand. Here they felt as wonderful as they had done in the shower, relaxed and receptive and there was no retreat from the tender crevasse nestling between them this time. My delicate exploration made the still sleeping form turn back slightly, pressing its full but still only slight weight further into my hand. Trapped but comfortable, I continued to let my fingers explore the divide and without any effort they located the delicate, slightly puckered outer edge of the secret hidden orifice.

Reacting involuntarily to the touch, it gripped tightly closed but relaxed again, each movement of a prying fingertip stimulated further reactions. A groan of some sort slipped from Michael’s slightly parted lips and I paused to see what, if anything I might have motivated.

“I thought you didn’t want to do anything?”

His soft whisper caught me unawares and I pulled away from him in what was a ridiculous and disproportionate gesture. Regretting it as soon as I had done it, I didn’t know how to recover whatever it was that had been going on.

“I, no, sorry, are you….” he stopped me from rambling on, this time with a firm grip on my quickly retreating genitalia.

“Ssh, it’s all cushty, It’s OK, it’s…” it was him who seemed lost for words this time. “Sorry… you needn’t…” another carefully weighted squeeze told me it was time for us both to shut up.

“Just relax, it’s OK, turn over.”

He guided me by gently pulling my reactive penis until I lay on my side facing away from him. My imagination was going haywire but all I felt was a gentle coming together of our bodies as he spooned softly but positively into my back. Once we had settled into place I could feel his arousal pressing itself into my lower regions, a gentle rocking back and forth stimulated us both and he slipped himself between my buttocks but no further. Was this what I had wanted? Was this what I had always been denied by the others? Was this going to be much better than using some inanimate object?

“I’ve never, actually….”

I didn’t want to utter the words as once the admission had been made it made it all more real than I wanted to accept.

“Relax, we aren’t going to do anything you don’t want…”

This was getting to be too much like the business transaction I didn’t want. I did want it to be more of a teacher and pupil but too much contemplation and over analysis was evident as my erection fled.

“Relax, just lie back and think…,” it was the last thing I needed to hear.

“I’m sorry this isn’t going to work.”

Rolling right away from him and sliding flat on my back, my erection long since disappeared, I could feel him looking at me in the dim orange light, but I certainly didn’t want to look back.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to fuck but just didn’t want to say so,” it seemed my foreplay had been all too obvious.

“I’m not just another punter, sorry if I didn’t make it clear. I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“I just wanted to help you out of whatever crap you were in, nothing more.”

I hoped if I said it enough times it might become true, the lie was failing but I ploughed on anyway.

“I liked you and didn’t think you were very happy back at the house. All this was not supposed to happen, I just wanted some company, just a chance to relax, just a chance to get to know someone a little better, I…,” there was nothing else.

Lost in confusion and self-pity, I was teetering on the edge of yet another tearful outburst. Michael put a finger onto my lips to stop them flapping and quivering but I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“It’s OK,” he must had realised he had said ‘OK’ once too often, “I mean I’m sorry. Your so-called friends insisted I got you to relax and have some new experiences, that’s all. They can be very persuasive, but you probably know that already. I just wanted to give you the …”

It was me who stopped him this time by laying several fingers across his soft, deep pink lips. He tried to continue the dialogue, but it was just a comedic mumble and we both couldn’t help but see the funny side and slipped into sad if unrestrained giggling. The unpleasant moment had been ended.

Biting at my finger very gently, I didn’t know if it was an indication he wanted me to remove them or let him play, rather reluctantly I took them away.

“Let’s just sleep shall we, it’s very late, well early actually,” he had glanced towards the window which was showing the pale blue hues of a pre-dawn sky.

“Let’s, I’m sorry for being a drama queen,” I genuinely was and he seemed sympathetic which was good.

“I’m going this way, youes do what you want.”

He rolled away from me but looked back as if to say, ‘don’t you dare leave me here alone’; I didn’t. He fitted so perfectly and snugly onto my lap that all the angst and drama I had created immediately evaporated from the situation.

In my head though, all the usual mixed up conversations continued; relax; don’t relax; what are you doing; get him out of here; this is a chance to get what you want; why are you taking advantage of him; this is going to be a car crash; it’s only been a twenty year wait; get on with it; you simply can’t force yourself into him; not now; not here; not ever! While trying to switch off these ramblings, even the simplest of facts were becoming confusing. What was the problem? When I finally managed to calm down it seemed there was only one; me.

Despite the upset, nature was soon doing what it often did without encouragement. The direct physical contact, the warmth, the gentle motion of the soft curled up body in my arms, what else could happen to make it any better. With no chance of sleep, or being able to ignore the obvious, I tested the water once more with one hand exploring the captive and captivating creature.

Moving slowly and gently over the less contentious areas of my sleeping companion, his shoulder, his neck, his chest, Michael’s body relaxed even more to my meaningful but gentle touch. Almost imperceptibly he moved to allow space and access between us. My hand had reached his wistful waist, but it was reluctant to go lower and just rested in the slight but erotic dimple at the base of his spine; a quiet giggle showed I might have found a sensitive spot. The added wriggle which came with it rubbed against both my quickly expanding ego and groin. Rolling further away from it, he pulled his one knee up which seemed to indicate a route to much greater rewards.

Still not believing what was happening and not wanting to go too fast, or even too far, I left my hand resting up on his hip. By pulling gently on it I reluctantly felt the gap close between us to indicate I wasn’t necessarily insistent on doing anything more. This had the unintended consequence of increasing the pressure on my now fully firm penis and it slid easily between the space between the top his thighs. We both rested for a moment; still not knowing if what I was doing was right or acceptable my brain couldn’t rest. One step at a time; don’t rush; you don’t know what you are doing; get off him; he’s only doing this because he’s been paid to; get to the bathroom; bring yourself off and be done with it; cursing myself for this I could have screamed at the untimely interruptions; inside I think I did.

Back under the duvet, either the pause was too long or just very badly timed but either way my indecision was more than obvious; perhaps my befuddled brain had won. Not knowing which, I froze at a half-way point to somewhere or more likely nowhere. How ridiculous can this get? Nobody has these problems. It’s all very simple. It’s just mechanics. It’s just natural. Michael raised his shaggy head and looked round.

“You OK?”

The reality of his beautiful face meant I couldn’t give him the true answer. With a very firm grip I took hold of one of his buttocks. With his leg already bent almost to his chest, the soft flattened dome was stretched tight, but it offered me open access to the main prize.

My unpractised and inelegant enthusiasm must have been far too rough for the moment to be acceptable as he grabbed my fumbling hand.

“Slow it down, here, slow, slow, sl…ow…”

He directed it more precisely and softly to its target.

Following his lead after letting him select my index finger, the resistance I had expected at the threshold of his soft gentle opening wasn’t there. The initial twitch of muscle faded quickly, and the orifice engulfed the single probing digit. He pulled away and I thought I had done too much again but his slid straight back onto it presumably to demonstrated just what was going to be possible. One finger was easy but after a few moments of already pleasurable access, he found my other fingers and bent another one to within reach of the first which was still embedded in the damp recesses of his rectum. Taking his own butt cheek in hand, he pulled at it to open the area even more and the second probing digit joined the first as he rhythmically rocked on and off them, clenching and releasing, teasing, and taking them in, I only had to lie there and accept these delicious feelings.

Without realising it I caught his upper body in a quickly tightening one armed grip which was too much for such a slight figure and he shrugged me off struggling to free himself just a little, settling for just my cupping his upper chest with his neck resting in the crook of my arm. Contact, control, concentration, you must concentrate on what you’re doing. Feeling more comfortable by the second, I knew I needed to see the hidden depths I was being given access to. Pulling slightly away I could see it was both very real and yet surreal at the same time. Michael took this pause as further ignorance; that was my hope at least.

“Wait a minute, let me…,” but he did, rather than describe.

With my hand still impaled in him, he twisted away and slid up onto his knees; I had to follow. My fingers were held in place by the strong muscle spasm, but I pushed further inside to prevent any unwarranted release; I never actually wanted to let go.

“You need to get behind me,” he had barely whispered the instruction, but I understood.

Of course, I knew what I was doing, in theory anyway; I was struggling to stay focussed; concentrate; think you idiot; you’re going to lose this; lose him; lose everything.

Once we had assumed the position, I could see exactly where my hand was and all his magnificent glory was presented openly to me. My now rigid, twitching penis was poised readily assisted by unconsciously driven thrusts from my tortured hips, primal urges dripping copious amounts of premature lubrication from the expectant excitement and ancient anticipation. In one fluid movement I removed my one impaled hand and let it join the other in cupping each butt cheek to hold open the target area as wide as it would go. All I had to do was replace one entry with another. Despite taking my fingers out the opening was maintained, enticing, pulsing but fully accessible as if daring something to fall deep into the darkest pleasures within. Dam my over active mind, I had looked just too long, yet again. Someone’s words were dragging me back to the futility of the moment.

“Take me, take it and fuck me you monster, go on pump it ….”

‘Monster’; ‘fuck’; why was he speaking; what was he saying; they don’t speak; no; stop it; shut up; please; please shut up. Somewhere in my head I knew very well what darkness was lurking, waiting for a chink to push right through the pleasure and slam into the front of my cretinous cortex like a sledge-hammer. What little mental control I might have failed me completely. Here it came, flooding out in one brainwashing cataclysm of fear and over analysed retribution I screwed my eyes closed but my mind had won.

Don’t complain about it he’s right, you do have a big cock compared to many others; not many though; don’t worry about the others, those strippers are just abnormal; go on, all you have to do is shove it in; in and out, hang on tight; it’s just a piece of meat; just bang away, what if it’s too much; who cares; you might hurt him; this is another human being not a man; a boy; we aren’t built for this; he’s not built for this; it’s not natural; he looks too small; no its too tight you’ll rip him open; none of the other’s you fucked were able to complain; they couldn’t get hurt if you tried; what are you thinking; look, your dick knows it’s not right; it’s not what it wants to do; it’s not what he wants either; oh dear, look, it’s shrinking; where’s it going; what do you do now; nothing, you’ll never have it; you’re a freak; a pervert; he’s being paid to put his arse in front of you; all this danger; all this pain and perversion; bought and paid for; what pleasure; meat on a slab, is that really what you want; you don’t know what you want……….

The tears were streaming down my face without me realising what they were. In front of me all I could see was a hideous pulsating anus winking in the gloom as my hands cruelly stretched the skin away from it. Sharp fingers were digging into soft flesh to keep it from moving, resisting the body which was pushing backwards to get nearer for some blind incomprehensible reason. The once stiffly erect arrow was fading, no longer full and firm with its engorged purple head, foreskin strained back against heavily veined length and girth; where was it now; nowhere; crest fallen; limp; useless. What are you doing you stupid, stupid idiot?

Falling forward in the agony of it all, the impact was not quite the result Michael had been expecting and he collapsed helpless under my considerable weight. He was confused but couldn’t move, I was confused but didn’t want to move.

If I moved I would have to face him. If I moved I could hold him and hug him and defend him. If I moved he would see the ugly face of failure. He didn’t want me now, he would just laugh, he didn’t need to see my ridiculous tears. I could feel Michael desperately trying to get out although I had trapped both his hands, one I realised had been bringing himself to climax in the anticipation of our double union. In the background my brain was relentlessly hammering away. Cry baby; It’s only a fuck; It’s nothing; You can’t even take it when it’s offered on a plate; You’re crushing the life out of him; He’s so small; So vulnerable; So get off; Get away; Freak; Monster; Get out of there! The final screaming voice prompted a move and I lurched ungainly out of the room.

In the bathroom, I sat on the toilet seat with my face buried deep in a towel which was still damp and smelt of my lost love and like it was now cold. I thought I was going to be sick, I think I was just a little but choked it back down leaving an acidic lining to my slathering mouth.

Hearing footsteps I felt a gentle hand rest on my back.

“You OK?”

Why did people keep asking if everything is ‘OK’! Do I look OK? Do I sound OK?

“Yes, I’m OK, just give me a minute.”

The footsteps padded gently away.

What to do now? If this hadn’t been where I lived I would have just left and never shown my face again; but I did live here. Back there in the bedroom, my bedroom, was someone who was probably as confused as I was, upset, fed up, disappointed, angry, humiliated, most likely all the above? With luck he might have gone. But he couldn’t go, how could he, stupid stupid stupid. He didn’t need to be here, why did he come? You bought him here on a vague promise of saving him from some monster and yet you had just replaced one unknown with another. Stop. Stop using words. Stop talking. Just stop.

The tears pressed at the threshold of their soft ducts wanting to start flowing but I squeezed my eyes tight shut against them. They should never be opened again. Footsteps sounded once more in the miasma of confusion, panic, and regret.

“Shall I make us a drink and we can all try and calm down a little?”

The soft Irish lilt was almost musical, and the gentle tone was certainly not one I deserved for my behaviour.

After I had managed to nod, my face still deep in the cold damp cloth, the footsteps moved away once more. Picturing them in my mind as they went down the stairs, I hope he had dressed, the others might have come home early. Did he know where the tea was? Did he remember I don’t have milk or sugar? There, the practical recumbent me I was back. Who needs all this grief? Give me a problem and I’ll give you a solution. Problems, you don’t have them, other people do.

It was going to take a minute or two for the kettle to boil so I managed to get back to the bedroom unseen. The bedding was in disarray, there were damp patches from different kinds of fluid here and there and our clothes were scattered around mixed up with each other. It took too long to find some that were mine and I could only pull on a jumper before Michael gently kicked the door open having mugs in both his hands. Knowing I didn’t want to look at him, I pretended to stare out of the window; I was looking at nothing but thinking of everything.

My head was drawing pictures of explanation as it always did, and I mentally watched him put the cups down on the chest of draws; did he use the coasters, they will be hot and might mark. My body jumped forward at an unseen and unexpected touch of a very warm hand heated by the tea which cupped itself round one half of my bottom. What now?

“It was to be your first time?”

This was a conversation I didn’t want to have but it wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, aren’t you the clever one,” knowing it sounded too sarcastic, I glanced back to check if it had struck a nerve or not.

“Yes perhaps I am, do you want to try again?”

I didn’t know if it was a comment towards having more sex or just being a normal human being.

Was it me? Was I on the same planet as these boys? Yes of course I did, no of course I didn’t, how I was ever going to look him, look at anyone in the face again.

“Youes just need to relax OK, it’s all OK.”

That was it. Enough. Turning to face him full on, despite my immediate intentions, my pent-up annoyance disappeared instantly and effortlessly. Seeing that sweet little face feeling the warmth as he pressed himself against me, his other hand had now reached round and cradled both sides of me with a gentle movement which made our bodies rub softly against each other. Somehow, I managed to resist the urge to wrap my arms around him as a pathetic reply. He took my indecision as a positive and proceeded to manhandle me again as any good prostitute would.

“What are you doing, please don’t, please,” my feeble pleas sounded as if they were meant to be ignored, deep down I knew they were.

“Ssh, rela….,” he remembered in time to not ruffle my feathers again.

“What, no, I….”

There was nothing to say. My brain might have been distraught, but my body still knew what it really wanted. Pulling my jumper off with a little help from the eager urchin, we slipped back under the rather besmirched duvet.

Despite my grossly mixed up feelings there was no attempt to go as far as we had previously tried. Instead I followed his lead so as not to run the risk of making any more stupid mistakes. He surrendered his genitalia to my mild assaults and I took the intense pleasures from the ways he had of inflicting some onto mine. As I pulled too hard on his small contracted scrotum he shouted a vague Celtic curse but it didn’t stop me pumping my final few exploding stokes into his willing face. Pressing my hips across his features in climax, I was glad I had stopped vacuuming his modest erection fearing I might have bitten him in the cataclysm of my ejaculation. Feeling both guilt and pleasure at the same time I lay and watched him finish his off own expulsion; I could have helped but I was too exhausted. When he eventually came, I lapped at the pool of milky fluid quickly filling his cupped fingers. Moving towards his cock he pushed my face away, his soft noises indicating he was too sensitive for any more oral attention. Lifting his hand away from the now flaccid member I relieved him of the collected seamen in one gentle mouthful despite the protest. To escape, he spun 180 degrees and we lay side by side.

“Youes oh….” his brain was still a little slow but caught up in time to stop himself finishing the annoying question.

We lay for what seemed ages, I didn’t want to move, ever. If this was all I was ever going to experience, perhaps it was enough, enough to be some semblance of achievable happiness. If things got too desperate there were always the memories, the assemblage of other things to do on my own, a little mix and match perhaps, was that was how it works? Who really knows?

My rambling mind picked up the gentle nasal reverberation which brushed against my chest as Michael’s head lay there seductively. I pulled him closer and dragged the corner of the cover over us both. This was what I wanted. As if in response to my ridiculous thoughts, a slender arm slid further over the rotund mound of my belly and a slim leg hooked gently into the space I made for it between mine. We both fell soundly asleep.