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From: John Venn <johnvenn1698@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: RP "Garry and John Make A Home" - Part 2 of 5
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===================

Disclaimer:

This story contains scenes of a sexual nature between two males of differing
ages. If this is not to your taste, or is illegal where you live, or you find
it morally offensive, then read no further and leave now!!
The story is purely imaginary and bears no resemblance to any living person or
persons as far as I know, much as you or I might wish!

Comments are always welcome at johnvenn1698@yahoo.co.uk
**************************************************

(Reposted with corrections & amendments)

Gary and John Make A Home   (m/t, mast, oral, anal, cons) (2/5)
by
Alexander.
(This story is a sequel to 'Garry and John'.)

PART TWO.

Chapter Five.

We met his mum and dad at a motorway service station and had a cup of tea
together. Garry said that the flat 'was OK,' and that Dover was a nice place
and he thought he'd like living there. And that was that. We agreed that I
would drive up and collect Garry and the rest of his things in a couple of
weeks. As we stood in the car park saying goodbye, my uncle handed me an
envelope.

 "That's his birth certificate, passport and some other bits. There's a cheque
in there as well for the first month." It struck me as slightly humorous: it
was just the same as buying a second-hand car. A few bits of paper, a cheque,
and the deal was done. One car. Or in this case, one boy. I was glad Garry
missed it.

One last comment threw me, and I'll remember it to my dying day. "Got your bed
sheet?" his father asked as Garry settled down in back of the car. I could see
the tears welling up instantly. He'd had a wonderful 24-hours, settled into his
new home, was as happy as a sand-boy and was looking forward to a new life. All
ruined in one thoughtless sentence from his father. Or perhaps it wasn't quite
so thoughtless I considered. Knowing him, it could've been quite deliberate,
after all his son was showing signs of being happy.

I was dumbstruck and hadn't a clue what to say. The bastard deserved some sort
of answer, but I was speechless. Garry, bless him, was quicker than I was and
retorted, almost viciously, "Don't need it no more." and looked away from him
into the distance. The implication wasn't missed. Garry's dad opened his mouth
as if to say something, thought better of it, and climbed into the car. I knew
Garry would pay for that remark later, but I was also confident that he
couldn't give a damn.

I drove homewards slowly, my mind turning over several things at once. I felt
in my pocket for the envelope his dad had given me and opened it. Glancing at
the contents, confirmed that his birth certificate and passport were there as
well as the cheque, which I folded and put in my wallet. The only other thing
of any interest was a doctor's appointment card for Garry to see him about his
bed wetting. I tore it up and dropped it out of the window.

I decided to spent a last night with my parents, gather the few remaining bits
I had there before moving full-time to Dover. It was only thirty miles from
Dover to my parents so wouldn't take me long to drive. I hadn't lived at home,
apart from holidays, for some years now and they were accustomed to me dropping
in for a night or two once in a while, but spending most of my life elsewhere.
I didn't mention Garry to them; dad and Uncle Bill had spoken very little since
I tried to get them together, and I thought they wouldn't be all that pleased
about my taking Garry under my wing. They would understand why completely, but
still wouldn't agree with it, 'leave things well alone and don't interfere'
being their motto.

I decided to ring Garry every night that week to check everything was still OK
with him; I was worried about his father. I fully expected him to get physical
with Garry, just as he had done with his other sons, especially after that
comment in the car park. I couldn't do much from a hundred miles away, but the
support might help make things easier. I called him at midnight as I was
finishing off a scratch meal. Thankfully he was OK. As soon as he got home he
went to his room and stayed there, he told me. Neither parent asked him how he
was nor what he thought about Dover other than the conversation we'd had at the
service station.

Wandering about the shops the following day, I picked up a nice twin-bunk and
combined desk sort of thing for Garry's room from a second-hand shop: some new
curtains and pictures completed our furnishings. I even bought a couple of tins
of paint and tarted up the kitchen. By the time I'd finished, the place was
looking good. I spent the evening making up Garry's bed, putting some of his
clothes in the drawers and arranging his things for him. I wondered idly how
often the bed was going to be used. Midnight came and I called him. He was
pleased to hear my voice and we chatted idly about odds and ends for a while
before I realised that there was something wrong.

"What's the matter?" I asked, worried.

"Nothing," he answered, but I could tell he was lying.

"Come on, what's up?"

"Dad hit me today," he said quietly.

I was furious. "Why?" I demanded.

"Dunno. I was late home from school because we'd been playing football and he
smacked me when I got in."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, not much. I don't care anyway."

I comforted him as much as I could and told him not to worry, it wouldn't last
much longer. When he told me that the same thing had happened again two days
later, I made my mind up to do something about it.

"Listen. Tell your mum that I'll be up Saturday to pick you up. Don't tell your
dad: get your mum to tell him. And ask her to ring me as well."

I got the phone call the following morning. She was embarrassed as hell telling
me about it, but I couldn't care less, she was in a better position than anyone
to put a stop to it, but she never had in all the years I'd known her. Sympathy
was in short supply. 

"If it's alright with you, I can come and get Garry on Saturday. I've spoken to
him and its OK with him."

She sounded relieved and said it would be OK. I lied and added that I wouldn't
have much spare time so it would be a flying visit and I wouldn't be able to
stop. My aunt knew exactly what I was saying and didn't argue. How she handled
her husband I couldn't care less about, it wasn't my problem. Garry was.

I sent a text message to Garry straight away telling him to get packed as I was
collecting him in two days. The one word reply was 'thanks!'. Two minutes later
I got another one, 'already packed!' At least he hadn't lost his sense of
humour.

Ten to eight Saturday morning I called Garry to say that I would be there in
ten minutes. I turned into their road and somewhat nervously pulled up outside,
fully expecting to walk into a major row with his father. Instead I was greeted
with Garry and his mum waiting at the door with his suitcase and a jumble of
boxes. His dad, I was told, had chosen to go out early and see his other two
sons rather than be at home when I arrived. I breathed a sigh of relief and
helped load the car. With a quick hug and kiss, Garry said goodbye to him mum.
I am sure he was going to miss her a lot, but knew at the bottom of his heart
that she couldn't do much to help him other than let him go.

We didn't talk for the first twenty minutes. I left Garry alone with his
thoughts; it must be a gut- wrenching feeling knowing that you're leaving the
home you grew up in, regardless of the situation.

Unlike his usual self, he was leaning in the corner of the car, staring into
space.

"Hungry?" I asked.

He shook his head no. This was odd in the extreme - Garry not hungry?

I turned to face him. For a second we locked eyes. He suddenly burst into tears
and threw himself at me, wrapping his arms round my neck and sobbing his heart
out. Instantly I pulled over to the side of the road and switched the engine
off. I put my arms round him and hugged. At first I didn't know whether they
were tears of happiness or tears of pain, but soon knew as I felt him flinch
when I touched his back. Carefully I leaned him forward and lifted his shirt
up. On his back were two ugly red weals. Belt marks. There were two bright red
buckle marks showing clearly on his shoulder blades. I was as angry as I have
ever been - at that moment I could have cheerfully killed his father. I was
more than angry, I was filled with a deep and passionate loathing for a man who
could do that to his own son, no matter what he'd done.

I hugged him close to me, letting the tears flow, joined I might add by my own.
I was angry, frustrated, and desperately, desperately sorry for him, a feeling
made infinitely worse because I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do
about it. Except one thing.

Picking his head up, I kissed him on the forehead and wiping the tears from his
red-rimmed eyes, stroked his cheek.

"Come on," I whispered, "It's all over now. It won't happen again, ever."

Managing a very slight smile, he squeezed up close to me, kissed me on the neck
and rested his head on my shoulder, arms draped about my neck.

I started the car and moved off, no longer angry, but seriously concerned for a
very unhappy young man.

There was a McDonald's down the road and I turned off into the car park. Garry,
worn out with crying was dozing on my shoulder and didn't notice until we
stopped as far away from other cars as possible. I eased him up and watched his
eyes open blearily.

"Stay there," I said quietly. "I'll go and get us something to eat."

He simply nodded and watched me walk back to the shop. I returned with two bags
filled with food and drink, enough for an army I thought. Placing the food
between us, I watched him dig into it, alternately filling his mouth with bacon
sandwiches and orange juice. Once I felt he was calm, I asked him what
happened.

In between mouthfuls, I learned that Garry had been packing some things in
boxes ready to bring with him. He'd been up and downstairs a couple of times to
ask if it was alright if he took this or that something or other when, on the
third time, his father had jumped up, grabbed him by the neck and taken his
belt to him.

"If you wanna fucking go, then fucking go. Get upstairs and pack every fucking
thing you own. And don't let me see you again, you fucking ......." Garry was
unable to say the actual word he used. He was staring down at the half-eaten
roll in his hand, all interest in food lost for the time being.

"Right," I said with a cheerfulness I didn't feel. "Tell you what. Let's get
out of here, turn left and just drive and drive and drive until we can't go any
further!"

He giggled at this and finished his food. Tossing the atlas to him, I said,
"Stick a pin in it wherever you like and we'll go there. As long as it's on the
right-hand side of page 80 anyway."

Batting me on the head with the book, he rolled over, curled up and smiling at
me, dropped his head in my lap and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Life was
returning to normal.

We drove on towards Dover, taking it slow and easy, enjoying the countryside
and the company, letting the unpleasant events slip into the past with every
mile we drove.

We'd left Oxford very early, and it was still before lunch time when, driving
slowly up a steep hill, I felt like a break.

"Wanna stop for a break?" I asked.

Garry grinned at me, rolled his head on my cock and grasped his balls in his
hands.

"You randy little sod!" I laughed, "No, not that. Not yet anyway. I meant a
break to stretch your legs."

"Oh! OK then. Unless ......" He joked grabbing his crotch again.

"No!" I insisted, "Much as I love you, there are times and places, and this is
neither the time nor the place. We're on a main road and I don't want to
frighten the natives!"

We sat on a bench on the hilltop, overlooking the country. The view was
magnificent. I sat in the corner of the bench, Garry leaning on me finishing
off a tin of Coke.

"Do you know," he mused, " It would take 25 cums to fill this tin."

I looked at him. Where the hell had that one come from?

He carried on, "If I cum every day for a year, that would be over three litres
of spunk." He giggled at the thought, "And if you did it as well, that would be
four litres."

"Where on Earth did you get that from?" I laughed.

"Read it last week at school. You make between ten and twenty millilitres of
spunk every time you cum. So if you collected it every day ............."

"I know, I know. There's no need to go on about it. What would you do with it
all anyway?"

"Hadn't thought of that. Be fun trying though wouldn't it? Wonder if you can
sell it?"

We grinned at the thought and nestled closer together. My Garry was back and on
good form. We basked in the warm sun for another hour or so before deciding to
carry on with our journey. I couldn't get the thought of coke tins filled with
cum neatly stacked in the fridge out of my mind! God help anyone who picked the
wrong tin up!

Early afternoon and we parked outside our new home. A week earlier that I'd
originally planned, and under vastly different circumstances, but nevertheless
we were here. Garry bounced out of the car, grabbed a few boxes and bounded up
the path to the front door. Within minutes, the floor was covered with
half-emptied boxes, an upturned suitcase and a grinning Garry squatted in the
middle surveying the chaos. I smiled at him and went into the kitchen to make
some coffee. When I returned with the two steaming cups, I handed him one and
sat in the chair studiously ignoring him.

"Hey! Ain't you gonna help?" he squealed.

"Nope. You made the mess. You clear it up. First rule of the house."

Pulling a face he stuck his tongue out at me, but nevertheless started to stack
his books up in a pile. Soon there were little piles of clothes, books,
photographs and other odds and ends circled around him.

"Right!" he said, "Now I can put 'em away."

Cramming a pile of books under his arm, he turned round and round in the room,
obviously looking for somewhere to put them.

"In your room," I said. He hadn't got as far as that yet, and hadn't seen the
changes I'd made. Running down the corridor he threw open his door and stared,
open-mouthed.

"Brilliant!" he shouted, "Fantastic!"

Following him, I put a hand on his shoulder as he gazed round. Gleefully he
carefully ranged his books on the desk and rushed back to get another stack.
Ten minutes later and he was all set up. Sitting down at the desk, he pretended
to write, testing the height of the top, his face glowing with delight. Then he
noticed the bunk bed, the bottom one neatly made up.

"I haven't got to sleep there, have I?" he asked, going quiet all of a sudden.

"No. Not all the time, but I think we aught to talk about it sometime though,
don't you?"

"Yeah. I suppose, but not yet." He looked at the bed carefully. "I guess
there's room for two, if we squish up real close," he grinned, "I mean REAL
close!" I pulled a face, and left him to it.

Returning to the living room, I noticed it had grown dark outside and I drew
the curtains and put the lights on. Garry turned on the TV and came to sit on
my lap. The room was pleasantly warm and comfortable, far better than I thought
it would be, remembering what it was like when I first saw it. Garry settled
down, stuck his thumb in his mouth and watched the television. Thirty seconds
later he stood up, took his shirt and trousers off and plumped himself back on
my lap. I stared at his torso. The raw weals had faded, the bright red marks
almost gone to leave just faint shadows.

Garry was home now, and showed it. I saw the reflection of us on the tv screen,
and I must admit we looked good. He was neatly curled up in a ball on my lap,
clad in nothing but his red underpants, and resting his soft brown hair on my
shoulder. I stuck my tongue out at him, watching his image on the screen. He
twisted round slightly, cupped his hands round my ears and whispered, "Love you
lots!"

This was what I had planned for ever since the idea first came to me, never for
an instant thinking it would ever happen if the truth be known, but here we now
were, the perfect family of two. I nuzzled my nose against his neck and licked
his ear. "Love you too."

He smiled at me, the smile saying everything I wanted. For maybe an hour we sat
there relishing the tranquillity and each other's company. I wondered when the
last time he'd sat on someone's lap and had a cuddle was. Even 13-year-olds
need it once in a while; hell, even twenty-something year-olds do!

The tv programme changed and Garry moved. Kneeling on the floor between my
legs, he looked up at my face, with that wicked smile I knew meant trouble!
Slowly he loosened my belt and unfastened my trousers. He pulled my shirt off
and looked at me with big, round sheeps-eyes. "Get up a minute," he whispered.
I did as I was asked. Pulling my pants and trousers down and off, he knelt back
down again, taking my cock in his hand and staring at it intently as if seeing
it for the first time. Slowly it began to erect, aided by Garry squeezing it
from time to time. Without letting go of it once, he worked his own pants off
with one hand and allowed his boner to spring free. I leaned over, intending to
pick him up and sit him back on my lap, but a single glance told me not to move
a muscle. He was in total charge and I was under his command. I did as I was
told. Almost lazily he reached over and took my cock in his mouth and let it
rest there, his tongue just tickling the end of it inside the foreskin. His own
dick remained untouched, keeping time with his pulse. Very slowly he allowed a
little more to enter his mouth, ensuring every inch was licked and tasted
before moving on. To my amazement he managed to take all of it into his mouth
and down his throat, sucking and licking without pause. His dick was leaking
pre-cum as I'd never seen it before, but was being ignored. Pushing my cock out
of his mouth with his tongue, he stood up and without a word pulled me to my
feet and urged me along the corridor. We went into his room and he closed the
door behind us. Reaching up to kiss me, I felt his hands on my waist easing me
down onto his bed. I lay back, waiting for his next move. Climbing over, he
took my cock in his mouth again, offering his to me. Gratefully, I took it and
slurped on it carefully and gently. The silky-smooth skin and slightly salty
taste of his dick was pure magic. I worked my tongue in and out of his
foreskin, licking gently around his piss-slit, tickling it as much as I could.
He was totally involved in my own steel-hard boner, doing everything possible
to give me as much pleasure as humanly possible. Eventually his mouth and
tongue tired and he turned to lie on top of me, licking his tongue along my
lips. I could taste my own pre-cum as he edged his way inside my mouth. I
reached down and found his cock, holding it gently in my fingers before I
started to rub it. I heard him moan softly into my throat; a soft guttural
moan, almost feral-like in its intensity. I started to masturbate him
seriously, knowing that if he carried on like this, it would only be a matter
of minutes before I came.

"No, don't" I heard him purr. "I want to do this all night."

Giving myself up to him once more, I kissed him deeply. Lazily, taking all the
time in the world, I submerged myself in Garry, marvelling at his innate skill
in pleasing me with every move he made. Every touch, every kiss, every minute
gesture was pure bliss. Gone was the little boy, gone was the nervous teenager,
and gone was the little man. Here was the essence of pure, innocent love, with
only one aim in mind: to give and receive as much affection as he possibly
could. We held, fondled, caressed and played with each other for seeming hours.
Strangely enough, it didn't even seem to be sexual. We were two lovers taking
pure joy and simple satisfaction from the mere physical contact we had with
each other.

It couldn't last forever though, much as we would have liked it to. Garry was
kissing me when I felt his body pulsate just twice and a warm, wet feeling
spreading outwards from my groin.

"Fuck it! Fuck it!" Garry muttered, just audibly.

It didn't stop him though, with only the briefest of pauses he kissed me again,
holding my face in his hands. I don't think his dick softened for a second. I'd
almost cum half-a-dozen times during our play, just managing to forestall it
each time by thinking I'd spoil it for him if I did. There was no way could I
do what he'd just done, have a cum and carry on as if nothing had happened.

Once more he turned round and sucked my dick into his mouth. I accepted the
proffered gift from him once more and happily sucked out what remained of his
cum, ensuring every part was fastidiously washed by my tongue. Yet again he
orgasmed, ejecting solid pellets of boy-cum into my mouth with unbelievable
force. This time I lost it completely, there was no way could my body take any
more. I bucked and thrashed around as my cock throbbed and pulsated every last
drop of my essence into Garry's waiting mouth. Eagerly he swallowed every drop,
struggling to keep pace with the sheer volume of it. Satisfied at last, he
turned over and nestled into my arms, sweating and breathing heavily.

He looked at me, his eyes saying everything he couldn't. Pulling me down to
him, he wrapped his fingers in my hair as if to fix me in place, closed his
eyes and was soon asleep. Not before he whispered, "three litres!" in my ear
and grinned evilly.

We both awoke half an hour later feeling the chill of the night air. I
struggled off the bed and made to wrap Garry up in his blanket and let him
sleep. No chance. He folded his arms round my neck and said sleepily, "Take me
to bed. Our proper bed." Once more I did as I was told.

Stretching out, Garry snuggled up with his back to me, fitting my soft dick
between his thighs and cupping my hands over his cock and balls, resting his
own on top so I couldn't remove them. Pressing himself as tightly as he could
into my front, he murmured a soft goodnight.

We woke up several hours later in exactly the same position except we both had
boners which needed taking care of. Slowly and lazily, in that strange
dream-like state between sleeping and waking, we masturbated each other to a
wonderful, amazingly fulfilling orgasm. This is how every day should start!

The day was spent lazily putting the finishing touches to the flat, buying food
and wandering around town. I decided to open a bank account for Garry and put
half the money his father sent in it for him. That way he had some measure of
independence and didn't need to come to me for every penny he wanted. We also
went to the Divisional Education Office and started the process of enrolling
him in school. After lunch we went for a ride round and found a place where he
could drive for a while. Intermittently we chatted about how we were going to
survive living together. Between us, we established some basic ground rules. In
the main, we agreed that he should ring or write home at least once a week, if
only to let his mother know he was still alive and well! We would share the
washing and cleaning of the flat (we'd see how that one went!), and lastly he
would sleep in his own bed on school nights, and we would only share the same
bed at week-ends. This pissed him off at first, but soon saw reason when I
explained the consequences if anyone asked why he was so sleepy at school, and
discovered that he never slept in his own bed!

One of the more interesting discussions we had was about Dover. Being a
cosmopolitan town, with a high proportion of itinerants, it had its problems.
The drink and drugs never worried me that much as I knew Garry wasn't
interested in the slightest in either. There were a fair number of gangs in the
town, consisting mainly of unemployed youngsters and the inevitable schoolboy
hangers-on. So far Garry hadn't expressed any interest in this side either, but
I felt he needed to be wary of them. Certain areas of the town were best
avoided, especially after dark. Lastly I'd noticed that there was also a
thriving cottaging side to the town as well. You only had to visit a public
toilet to pick that one up. I tried to explain this to Garry in a way I thought
he might understand, but was stopped in my tracks when he said, "Don't you
think that goes on in Oxford as well?" I paused and thought about it. Garry and
I had a good, active, sex life together, and he was obviously very sexually
aware! He was also very attractive, and could behave and dress in a most
provocative manner when he wanted, as I knew to my cost!

He told me in no uncertain terms that he was in no way interested in that sort
of thing, especially with strangers, and who did I think he was anyway! For the
first time, we were on the edge of an argument, him feeling that I was getting
over-protective and not crediting him with any common sense, and me worrying
about him too much. To be quite fair, he was quite honest and said that he'd
messed about with a couple of boys at school a few times, but since we'd been
together, he'd only done it a couple of times, and what was wrong with that
anyway, he said. As far as anything he and I did in the privacy of our own
home, that was up to us - he just couldn't imagine wanting to do anything like
that with anyone else, let alone strangers. That satisfied me, and the subject
was never mentioned again.


Chapter Six.

Life quickly settled in to a routine. Garry started his school, I settled into
my new job and everything was OK. There was an added bonus in that the landlady
said that she would keep an eye on Garry for me if he was on holiday or off
sick when I was working. This pleased Garry too as he wasn't actually being
'baby-sat' although there was someone nearby if he wanted anything. I also
gained a lot more confidence in Garry; he rarely went out in the evenings
except to go to the swimming club he'd joined and to visit one of the friends
he'd made at school. I'd first met Jake one morning as he called for Garry on
the way to school. Same sort of height and build as Garry but ginger-haired and
seriously freckled. He was a fairly good looking boy, and not one of the street
yobs which were all too common around here. I was pleased to see that he also
started to come and visit Garry at home when they would disappear into his room
for hours on end.

It was Garry's habit to strip off completely when he got home from school and
wander round the flat bare-footed, dressed only in his underpants. I asked him
once why he did this, not that I minded in the slightest of course. He said
that he just felt more comfortable that way. He used to do the same at home, he
added, except that he only did it in his own room. I could imagine his father's
reaction if he started parading around the house, all but naked!

After first few times Jake came round and they were a bit more comfortable with
each other, Garry started stripping again, but at least had the decency to put
a pair of shorts on. I wasn't sure whether this was better or not, he still got
my cock stirring. Jake decided to copy Garry and opted to strip down as well,
but only as far as taking his shirt and shoes and socks off. His beautiful
brown freckles spread down from his cheeky round face down to his chest I was
intrigued to see.

When I commented one day about how nice they made him look, I got a withering
'don't go there' glare from Garry and an embarrassed Jake saying that he
thought they were terrible. Later that night Garry explained that he hated them
because he thought they made him look like a baby and he got pissed off every
time someone said how attractive looking they made him.

The best times Garry and I spent together were early in the evening when Jake
wasn't around, apart from lazing in bed together on a Sunday morning that is.
Once stripped of his clothes, with a drink and biscuits close to hand, he loved
climbing on my lap, curling up and sucking on his thumb. That's when we simply
enjoyed our closeness, talked and gave each other some TLC, something we'd both
missed most of our lives I suppose.

It was during one of these idyllic moments when I was cuddling him that I
noticed how much fitter and healthier he'd grown since I first saw him, mainly
due to his swimming and less stressful life I surmised. His body was filling
out nicely, he was developing some muscles and had certainly grown taller; he
was nearly my height now. Getting him to stand up, I took his pants off and got
him to turn round for me. He really was a gorgeous boy. I gazed at him and told
him how fit he looked, in every sense of the word. Garry giggled, put his hands
on his head and pirouetted for me, his (for once!) flaccid dick and balls
leading the way. Still smirking with a self-satisfied grin, he leapt back onto
my lap and kissed me on the lips. I ruffled his hair, kissed him back and ran
my fingers through the rapidly growing pubic hair of the best-looking young
satyr that ever lived.

"Mmmmmmmmm, That's nice. Don't stop," he sighed as we watched his dick harden.
"Jake's got a nice cock," he suddenly informed me after a few moments.

They must have seen each other naked lots of times by now, and I wasn't at all
surprised that he'd taken notice of it. What did surprise me was that he
commented on it, he'd never talked about anyone in that way before.

"Oh, yeah. What's so nice about it then?" I replied curiously, nibbling on his
ear.

I felt his own pride and joy twitch under my fingers.

"Dunno really. It's sort of longer and thinner than mine and he's got bright
ginger hair! He's circumspected as well." This deliberate mispronunciation
amused him and he giggled.

I said nothing for a few seconds as I absorbed this fascinating piece of
information, then deciding to go with it, said, "How much longer? Very much?"

"No, I don't think so, maybe a couple of centimetres." Garry's eyes were closed
as he tried to remember it.

"That hard or soft?" I sniggered in his ear.

"Soft, dummy!" he laughed and dug me painfully in my groin. " I've never seen
it hard; not really hard anyway. He got a bit of a hardon the other day when we
were getting changed after swimming."

"So, you haven't done anything with him then?"

He knew that I wasn't trying to delve into his personal affairs deliberately,
after all he could easily lie if he wanted to, and he just accepted it as a
logical question following on from what we were talking about.

"Naaaaah. I think he wants to though."

This didn't surprise me in the slightest, and I surmised that Garry wouldn't
object either. I was happy that he felt able to talk about it quite openly,
knowing I wouldn't throw a fit.

"Do you want to?" I asked, kissing him on the forehead. "I don't mind, if
that's what you want."

He kissed me on the cheeks to say 'thanks' in his own way.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind, if he wanted to."

The conversation died for a while as we cuddled up closer and embraced. Garry
had broached a subject which must have been troubling him for some time and,
despite our special relationship, must have been difficult for him.

"So, what next then?" I asked.

"Don't know. Even if we wanna do anything, we ain't got nowhere to go."

There was a heavy hint of 'help me' in the statement. We chatted round the
subject for another twenty minutes or so, both of us getting harder and harder
at the mental images we were conjuring up. Eventually I came up with the
obvious solution, the one which he was fishing for right from the start if I
know my princeling.

"You can always come back here you know. That is if you don't fancy the idea of
making out on the sea front. I daresay I could make myself scarce for an hour
or two. Or I could sit and watch."

He twisted round to face me properly and looked me straight in the eye before
saying, "Piss off!", followed by, "Sure? I wouldn't mind if you said no."

"Don't be daft. It's either that or you take my car to an airfield I know near
Oxford..............."
He didn't let me get any further before he grinned broadly and pinched my lips
closed with his fingers, relieved the problem was solved.

"Now," I said brightly, the conversation over, "Would you like me to take care
of that for you?" I tweaked his little mascot playfully.

He stood up to face me, placed his hands on my shoulders and said,
"Mmmmmmmmmmm, yes, please! Take me to our bed."

He wrapped his legs round my waist, shouldered his head and I did as I was
told.

Dropping him to the floor, I stared out of the window at the grey sea. I felt
his arms snake round my chest from behind and his fingers grasp my nipples. I
held his hands in place, taking in a deep breath. He kissed me lightly between
the shoulder blades and hugged tightly.

"We're OK aren't we?"

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Neither of us liked to use the word
'love' very much except when wrapped up together in the solitude of the night
and emotions running high. 'We're OK' meant exactly the same thing though.

"Absolutely brilliant," I replied softly. "We're OK and a half!"

I felt his cock squeeze itself between my butt cheeks and I clenched them
together, gripping it as firmly as I could.

"Want to ......?" I asked.

"No. Not now, we'll do it later. Let's just play now."

We lay on the unmade bed embracing gently, our dicks dancing together. Somehow
the conversation about Jake had made us both horny, not for physical love, but
for a slow caressing affirmation of our 'OK-ness' I pulled him in a little
closer and pressed a finger into his hole, which reflexively opened up for me.
Searching for, and finding his prostate I tickled it delicately, enjoying the
feeling of his body tensing and the sensual thrust of his pelvis into my groin.
He moaned contentedly, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth.

Languidly we rolled about the bed, taking infinite delight in each other's
body, knowing full well that no one could ever compete seriously with what we
had . Every day it seemed our love grew more and more, stronger in every way.
Even the thought of him and Jake getting it on together didn't disturb either
of us: we both knew it wouldn't be the same.

I worked a second finger inside as I let him press his fingers into me. Our
red-hot boners were nestling side by side, the friction of our thrustings
adding to the pleasure. We were in great danger of rushing things along too
quickly for both our tastes and so reluctantly we slowed the pace a bit and
cuddled together for a change, fondling and sucking on nipples until they were
hard and tender. I squirmed with delight as Garry nibbled on them with his
teeth, painfully. Pushing him away, I whispered, "I'll do that to you if you're
not careful, and you know what happens then don't you?" 
He giggled lightly and answered, "I don't care. Do what you like. It's always
worth it."

I didn't of course; Garry's orgasmic fits still scared me a little, and I knew
he found them exhausting and frightening sometimes. But, as he said, it's worth
it.

"So, when do you want me outta here?" I asked, "So you can have your evil way
with Jake?"

"Dunno. We're going swimming Tuesday, so that's out. Wednesday?"

"Good idea. I'll be late home from work on Wednesday then. About seven."

Today was Monday: Garry should be sleeping in his own bed tonight. But after we
hugged and kissed a while longer, I had the strangest feeling that he wouldn't
be there tonight.

I was right. We spent a happy couple of hours messing about on my bed, ending
only when we couldn't resist temptation any longer and finished off with a
wonderful, mind-blowing frantic 69 and a hot shower. I glanced at the clock
when we got back in the living room and discovered it was still only about nine
o'clock. It was too early for bed, and, as Garry reminded me, we hadn't eaten
yet.

"The only thing I've eaten since lunch is .........."

I didn't let him finish as I knew exactly what he'd eaten, and didn't need
reminding as my still slightly tender dick told me.

We decided to eat out and hit the local KFC for a change. It was fairly busy in
there and we had difficulty in finding somewhere to sit, but luckily we grabbed
the two empty seats as a couple left. Garry was in an animated, flippant mood,
not taking anything seriously and finding everything amusing. He almost went
too far though when he smeared some mayonnaise on his fingers, looked at me
meaningfully and slowly licked it off. I felt myself redden and kicked him
under the table, mouthing for him to pack it up. There was no doubt at all what
he was trying to imply and I hoped no one saw him; I have my doubts about two
boys sat opposite him who sniggered at the sight though. That amused me for
some reason: if they really knew what he was thinking, it'd probably made their
night.

When we got home, I busied myself tidying up for a while whilst Garry got ready
for bed. This consisted solely of brushing his teeth, walking into the bedroom
and dropping his clothes where he stood before sliding under the covers and
picking up a comic to read until I was ready. Ten minutes later and I
gratefully got undressed and joined him.

I put an arm under his neck, pulled him up to me and lay back to read my book
whilst he finished his comic. If only we could do this every night I thought to
myself: get into bed, cuddle up for a while and read, then turn out the lights
and go to sleep. We could then do away with his room and the celibacy it
rightfully enforced on us. Unfortunately, life being what it is, there was no
way he and I could share a bed and not indulge ourselves, so the second bedroom
stays.

Garry finished his comic, dropped it with the others on the floor and turned
over so he was facing my back. I felt him slip his boner between my thighs and
thrust it forwards, an arm draped itself over my shoulder and he found a nipple
to play with. Holding the book with one hand, I pushed a hand under the
bedclothes and eased my way down to his cock. Tantalisingly I tickled the end
of his erection between my legs, sliding the foreskin back and forth over his
corona and rubbing his piss slit with the tip of my finger.

"Pack it up!" he burst out, "That tickles!"

I dropped the book on the floor and turned to face him, holding his adorable
face between my hands before kissing him on the lips.

"Hiya, sport!" I whispered. "How you doin'?"

"All right, thank you very much for asking," he replied, attempting
unsuccessfully to sound as upper class as he could.

"Fine. And what would my Lord and Master desire this evening?" replied the
ever-faithful old retainer.

"A little fu...... er, rogering, if you don't mind, my man."

Breaking up into fits of giggles, we gave up pretending and snuggled up closer.

We snaked our hands southwards and found our targets. We held on to them
loosely, feeling the blood coursing through the veins, sensing their delightful
warmth.

My satyr wriggled himself into a more comfortable position and rested his head
on my chest and commenced salving my nipples. This wasn't fair; I couldn't
reach his without disturbing both of us so I rubbed his back lightly and worked
on his manhood. A good clue to the mood he was in was given away by the fact
that he was already wet and leaking. I smeared a bit of it up and spread it on
his lips.

"KFC!" I whispered into the ear nearest me. I felt his chest heave as he
suppressed a giggle, not for a second pausing in his licking, only a slight nip
from his teeth telling me he'd heard.

He didn't pause in his ministrations even when he climbed over on top of me and
sat on my cock, wriggling until it lay happily between his butt cheeks. I
massaged his exquisite balls and cock, feeling his golden nuggets and dick
respond gloriously.

"Can we do it?" he pleaded, "I'm really in the mood."

Who was I to argue? I watched as he straddled me and grasped my cock between
finger and thumb. He let himself down slowly, feeling for his hole. I didn't
even feel his muscle open; we united in an unbroken movement, my prick sliding
straight into his love tunnel as far as it could.

Not once did he break eye contact with me, not once did he wince as I entered
him. He breathed out a long sigh of elation as he rested against my balls.

"That's really good. Really, really good," he moaned. "Nobody move."

Five minutes he just sat there smiling to himself without moving, just an
occasional clenching of his cheeks and a just perceptible up and down move. His
dick stood out proudly in front of my face, slickly gleaming, oozing pre-cum
and impossible to resist. I made to take it in my hand, but he brushed me away,
asking me to wait a minute.

He was in ecstasy, I've no idea what was going through his mind, but he was
deliriously happy, his tongue licking his lips once in a while and his feather
-light fingers running up and down my chest in time with his moans. I risked
touching his already proud nipples with my finger tips and was rewarded with a
loud groan.

"Please, please!"

I was conscious that we were steaming full ahead for a Garry spectacular. For a
split second I thought about bringing him down, but instantly rejected the
idea. He obviously wanted and needed this; it was his intention right from the
word go and the last thing I wanted was to spoil it for him. As he said
earlier, it's worth it.

Carefully he leaned forwards so he was stretched out full length on my body,
chest-to-chest and face-to-face. I cupped his sweating face in my hands and
drew him down for a kiss. Our mouths opened and our tongues met in a writhing
embrace, Garry's hands grasping my hair painfully in his clenched fists.
Imperceptibly he began to move up and down my body, the head of my cock
striking his magic button with every move, His timing and movement was absolute
heaven for both of us. My cock was throbbing with delight, stimulated with the
silky pressure of his rectum, my pre-cum lubricating it to perfection. I felt
every millimetre of his own organ, equally bathed in love-juice, being
stimulated between us. Still he kept up the slow, deliberate rocking and the
deep, passionate kisses. Twice I almost came; three times I almost came.
Somewhere in the distance I heard my moans, interlaced with an "Oh God!" and
"Christ!"

I felt Garry's dick engorge and spasm uncontrollably as he propelled the sperm
out of his aching cock, spurt after spurt after spurt, accompanied at last by
my own no less explosive release. Together we froze in an embrace of ecstasy,
Garry's eyes rolling to the back of his head for an instant as he rode the
wave, back arched and legs taut, every muscle locked in spasm.

We clung together tightly as we both collected our wits and gasping for oxygen.
I was acutely aware of tears mingling on my cheeks as I calmed down.

"You alright?" I whispered as soon as I felt that he was back with us.  "You
OK?"

He looked at me, nodded and broke down in tears.

I waited until they'd died down a little, holding him gently in my arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he blubbed out, "I tried not to, honestly."

The penny dropped. The tears were for me. He knew he was heading for a
fit-sort-of-thing and tried his best to avoid it, but simply couldn't do it. At
that point, it dawned on me like a revelation that Garry was OK with his
violent orgasms, they didn't bother him any more as he'd got used to them. He
was worried for me, knowing how scared they made me. I cried a little as I told
him not to panic, if he was happy with them, then so help me God, so was I.

A little later, when we were talking over the episode, he said something very
revealing.
"In a funny sort of way, I like them," he astounded me by saying. "At first
they frightened me, but once I knew I got over them, it was OK. In fact, when I
have one I know the sex was bloody good!" He grinned at this and looked for my
reaction.

I felt as if a ton weight had been lifted off me, and I thumped him on the arm
in my elation.

"You little shit! You monster!" I laughed in relief. "I'll kill you!"

He thought this highly amusing and tickled me under the arms until I begged him
to stop. "Now I know that, I'll make sure you have a funny turn every bloody
time," I said, the relief still showing. "And something else as well." I waited
until I had his full attention. "Just you wait until I tell Jake what happens
every time you cum. That'll put him off."

"Bastard! You wouldn't."

I smiled, he knew I wouldn't do that to him.

"In any case, I only do it when you and me have a specially good time, and you
know that, bastard!" he sniggered.

We curled up together and got ready to sleep; there was still school and work
tomorrow.

"Jake and me will never, you know, never do what we just done. That's just for
us." There was a slight pause. "Promise? Just for you and me? You won't do it
with anyone else, and I won't either."

He was being deadly serious. I promised him with all my heart, kissed him to
confirm my promise and we cupped each others balls and cock in our hands, with
me feeling the cool slickness of his drying cum between my fingers. My angel
dropped off into a well-earned slumber. 

End of Part Two.



		
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