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From: John Venn <johnvenn1698@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: RP "Garry and John Make A Home" - Part 1 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
**************************************************
REPOST

Garry and John Make A Home  (m/t, mast, oral, anal, cons) (1/5)
(This story is a sequel to 'Garry and John'.)
by
Alexander.


PART ONE


Chapter One.

Garry telephoned John at least three times a week for the next three weeks,
asking every time if he'd got a job yet, or found a house for them. So far the
answers had been no, but in a way that wasn't a bad thing as each time they
spoke on the 'phone, they always seemed to end up having a long-distance
jerk-off session!

Garry hadn't mentioned anything to his mum and dad about the possibility of
moving either. Not only did he think that they might not let him if he asked,
but also his dad was such a dick head that would just assume that if Garry
wanted something, he would stop him anyway just for the hell of it. What was
noticed by his parents was that Garry was in a much better mood for the first
few days after his holiday, and he'd even stopped wetting his bed. They didn't
say much about it except to think that he'd grown up a bit. One evening his mum
said how much better it was for him now that he didn't do it. By itself, that
would have been alright, but then his dad had to go and ruin it for him by
adding, "And about bloody time boy!" Garry wet the bed that night. It was for
the last time though, because afterwards he always thought about John just
before he went to sleep and either jerked himself off or went to sleep holding
his erect cock dreaming of the time when he would leave home and go and live
with him. And he wasn't going to let his father keep putting him down all the
time anymore: what he thought didn't matter a toss to him.

Things were working out more or less OK for John as well. He'd had two
interviews for jobs in Dover, Kent. One was for a travel company who wanted an
IT manager and the other was for an insurance company who needed an analyst. He
didn't get the insurance one, but was offered the job with the travel company
which he accepted after his second interview. The money was OK too, just enough
to keep him and Garry he thought, if they were careful. John decided to stay in
Dover that night and spent the afternoon visiting the house agents and looking
through the newspapers. He made a list of the better flats and apartments
whilst having dinner in the hotel and made his mind up to look at them in the
morning.

Later that evening he was talking to the barman when he happened to mention
that he was looking for somewhere to live and showed him the list he'd made. He
also told him that his younger brother was staying with him as well: not for
the first time John was thankful that they had the same surname so that
wouldn't be a problem. The helpful barman suggested that he crossed two or
three of the addresses out as they weren't in very good areas. He also
suggested that he went back to his new employer and ask them because they
sometimes kept lists of accommodation for new staff. That he did the first
thing the following day and saw the receptionist. She was pleased to help him
and dug out a folder from her desk. After she'd flipped through it a couple of
times, she volunteered to telephone some of the places and see if they had
anything available. At the third try she found an empty two-bedroom flat not
very far away on the Folkestone Road. It was a reasonable area, although a bit
noisy because of the traffic. The only problem was the rent. It was a lot more
than he thought it would be and there was no way he could afford it. The
receptionist assumed that the second bedroom was for his girlfriend or
something and they would be able to share the costs, but when he said that it
was for his schoolboy brother, she apologised. Then she said to wait a minute
and disappeared into an inner office; when she came out she was accompanied by
the man who'd interviewed him yesterday. 

They shook hands and went back into his office. The Office Manager, David,
sympathised with John's predicament and said he'd got an idea. It turned out
that John had to do a three-month probationary period with the company,
following which there would be a substantial pay rise. Provided that John did
his work satisfactorily, he couldn't see any problem with the rent after that,
and in the meantime the company would help him with some of the rent. What John
didn't know, and wasn't told, was that they had offered him the minimum wages,
expecting him to ask for more, and therefore could afford to give him a bit
more anyway!

John was over the moon! In one glorious day he'd almost resolved two major
problems and the world was a wonderful place. He took a taxi to the house to
look at the flat: he would have taken almost anything at that point, but even
so was quite pleased when he saw it. The house was in the middle of a long row
of four-storied Victorian terraced houses, built originally for now
non-existent holiday makers he supposed. These had been converted over the
years into flats and bed-sits, and for the most part were still respectable
houses in a nice neighbourhood.

The door was opened by a middle-aged lady who turned out to be the owner. After
a brief chat about his work and what sort of flat he wanted, she showed him to
the third floor. The flat took up the whole of the floor, not very wide but
quite long. At the front was the living room with the kitchen alongside. Down a
narrow hallway was a small bedroom followed by a larger one with the bathroom
next to it. The furniture was a bit shabby and well-used and the kitchen had a
few bits and pieces of mis-matched crockery and oddments of cutlery, but enough
to be going on with. Once he and Garry had put a few pictures up and spread
their possessions out, it would probably look alright. There was only one
question which John hadn't asked, and was afraid of the answer. When they'd
agreed the rent and so on, he told her that his 13-year old brother lived with
him and he would be going to school in Dover. He didn't elaborate why he lived
with him and hoped she didn't ask. This didn't worry her apparently, in fact
she seemed quite pleased. "It means that you won't be upping and leaving after
a few weeks like a lot do," she explained. "Little boys can't be doing with
being moved around too much can they?"

And that was that. He signed the contract, to move in as soon as he liked

Leaving the house, happier than ever, he wanted to ring Garry straight away,
but he would be in class now. Instead he sent him a text message and asked him
to ring as soon as he could. In the meantime, John went back to his hotel and
had a drink with the barman to thank him, before sitting down in the window to
gather his thoughts.

First there was the big problem of getting his parents to agree. He was sure
they'd let Garry go if he could only find the right way of asking them: that
wanted a lot of thought. Second, there was still the slight problem with money.
They'd have enough to live on if they were careful, but there wouldn't be a lot
spare. He'd already made his mind up to use what little cash he had to buy some
new things for the flat, and he could also borrow some from the bank. He'd
never had a bank loan before, even when he was at college and so his credit was
good. He was turning these thoughts over in his mind when the phone rang.

It was Garry. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was only 11.30 and he
should be in lessons.

"Hiya! What you doing?" John asked, "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Yeah, but I've come out for a piss," he laughed, "And I'm sat in the toilet!"

John's cock stirred slightly at the mental image of Garry sat in the toilet
talking to him with his pants round his ankles and stroking his dick. He was
probably wrong, but the picture was nice.

"Good. I've god some good news for you. I've got a job, and a flat in Dover for
us."

John couldn't get any further because he was interrupted by a deafening shout
of pure joy from Garry. God knows who heard him or what they would think, but
somebody must have! It took two or three minutes to quell the whoops of glee
from his nephew before he could carry on. He explained as best he could about
the flat and where it was and so on. He was sure that Garry wasn't listening to
half what he was saying, but that didn't really matter just now, they were both
too happy to care.

Garry interrupted John and asked him if his prick was hard, " 'Cause mine is
and I wish you were here to see it and, well, you know!"

John knew exactly what he meant and wished he was there too, but he simply
laughed and said, "You randy little sod. Wait till I see you!"

Garry giggled delightfully and made John promise that he'd call him later when
he was in bed and they could have another long-distance talk followed by a
jerk-off.

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Garry laughed, but there was a serious note
to his voice now as John realised that he was supremely happy with the news
that his heart's desire was soon to be fulfilled. They closed the connection
with goodbye kisses and a reminder that they'd talk later.

John's dick was so hard now that he just had to take care of it. Making a
hurried escape to his room, he stripped off completely and lay on the bed,
softly stroking his engorged dick and dreaming of Garry doing the same thing
almost a hundred miles away in a school toilet in Oxford.



Chapter Two.

On the stroke of midnight, John rang Garry. The phone was answered instantly by
a breathless boy, "Hiya!"

"Hiya yourself," John replied. "And how are you tonight, as if I didn't know?"

"Fucking brilliant!" he whispered. John didn't like to hear Garry swear, it
always seemed to grate when he did, which thankfully was only very rarely. He
could be excused this time though and John ignored it.

"Good. Did you have a nice you-know-what this morning?"

"Mmmmmmmm," he said, "And I bet you did too."

"Nope. I've decided to stop doing that now. I've got a little boy to look after
and I don't want to teach him bad habits!"

"Much too late for that," Garry giggled, "And in any case it was you who
started it, so sucks to you!"

"What you doing now?" John asked.

"Laying on my bed with nothing on and playing with my cock. You?"

"Same thing and I'm looking at that picture of you in your swimming trunks, you
know, the one where ........"

"I know, I know," Garry said. "Just think we'll be able to do it together
whenever we want soon, it'll be fantastic won't it?"

John had to agree with him and his cock gave a jerk of understanding when Garry
interrupted: "I'm gonna cum," he stammered out, "Jesus!"

John heard the moan; stifled, but still audible.

There was nothing else that John could do except release his own pent-up load
in sympathy with his young lover and shot great wads of his hot, sticky cum all
over the bed. There was nothing to be heard on the phones except heavy
breathing for a couple of minutes before Garry managed to whisper out a
breathless, "I love you" before he switched off. He knew Garry well enough to
know even that would have been a tremendous effort for him if he'd had a good
cum, and he was sure he had.

John suddenly remembered that he'd not told Garry that he was going to come up
to Oxford in a couple of days and tell his parents of his plans. He texted
Garry to expect him at ten on Saturday and tell his parents.

The following morning his phone bleeped at breakfast. The texted simple one
word reply was 'Yippppeee!.'

Garry smiled and willed his cock to go down.

John telephoned his uncle and aunt, without Garry knowing, and asked if he
could come down for the day on Saturday, explaining that he would like to give
Garry a birthday present. That was agreed to, and John took a deep breath
before continuing.

"There's something else as well." He paused. "How would it be if Garry came to
live with me?"

There he'd said it. There was a pause at the other end, and before his aunt
said anything, he went on to say that he'd not mentioned it to Garry yet, but
they got on alright together and they would be company for each other, and he'd
make new friends .... He was conscious that he was gabbling a bit in his
nervousness and made an effort to slow down. "It might do him good to get away
from Oxford for a while anyway," he finished, hoping that he'd not ruined it by
stupidly adding the last bit. His aunt was quiet for a second or two before
John said he'd ring them back on Friday night to find out what they thought.
She agreed to this and they broke off the conversation.

Rather to his surprise, John was shaking a bit when he put the receiver down
and took a moment to gather his wits. He'd done it, for better or for worse,
he'd done it. Taking a deep breath and trying to force it to the back of his
mind for the time being, he concentrated on collecting together and packing a
few he wanted to take with him to the new flat. It seemed that every thirty
seconds the problem surfaced though, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't
stop worrying, 'what if's' going round and round in his mind. To break the
cycle, he dressed himself more appropriately and paid a visit to his bank.
There was surprisingly little difficulty there either. Once he'd explained
about his new job and the flat, they were quite happy to give him a loan. Much
more than he needed in fact, and he didn't have to mention Garry either. He
decided to take only half what he was offered, with the option of taking the
rest later if he needed it. Feeling better now, he bought some new crockery and
bedding on the way home. It was a very odd and novel feeling, shopping for two
- his family as he was now starting to think of it - and exhilarating in a
strange way.

Eight o'clock on Friday eventually arrived, and with trembling fingers he
dialled the number. It took three or four heart-stopping minutes before the
receiver was picked up.

"Hello?" said his aunt.

"Hi! It's me," John replied.

"Oh, hello John." There was a pause. "We've had a talk about Garry and we think
it's a good idea, if you still want to that is."

I couldn't believe my ears. All the worries, the planning and the stress had
paid off: I could feel the weight lifting off my shoulders and was walking on
air. I realised that I was still being spoken to.

" .......... and when you get here tomorrow, we'll talk some more."

Mustering as much gravitas as I could, I said that I'd look forward to it,
which was something of an understatement.

Twenty minutes later my phone rang again: it was Garry. This surprised me a
little until he said that he'd spent all evening taking with his mum and dad
about coming to live with me. For once, it seems that they'd actually talked to
him in a decision involving himself. He was considerably calmer now than he was
the last time we spoke and I asked him where he was.

"Come out for a walk to the shops so's we could talk," he said.

"Great. So what did they say to you?" I was intrigued as to how they'd put it
to him.

"You never told me that you'd called them and asked them," he said with a
slight element of chastisement in his voice. "And so when I got in and they
told me what you'd said, I was really surprised. I pretended that was the first
time I'd heard about it, but it was hard 'cause I was real happy inside. I was
scared too 'cause dad kept looking at me."

"Yeah, I bet. Then what?"

"Well, the first thing mum asked me was what I thought about it. I said at
first that I didn't know, but it seemed like it might be OK. It was the hardest
thing I've ever done," Garry giggled. "I wanted to laugh and cry and jump and
fly all at the same time!"

Not far underneath the surface of that beautifully maturing
just-13-year-old-body was a small child which escaped once in a while with a
delicious sense of humour and a delightful playfulness. It was one of his most
endearing characteristics and I loved him all the more for it. It was also the
one which pissed his dad off I guess.

We chatted for a while about what happened next. He'd gone on to tell them that
we'd had a good time camping and we got on alright. "I even made mum smile when
I told her you made me do the cooking and washing up. I think that was what
swung it!" he laughed.

"What did your dad say?"

There was just the merest pause before he replied, "Nothing." I felt
desperately sorry for him at that moment. His father couldn't even be bothered
to take enough of an interest in his youngest son's life to ask him if he
actually wanted to move away from his home. Garry knew this.

"Anyway," Garry said, cheering up, "What time you gonna get here tomorrow?
'cause I can't wait!"

"Sometime around ten I guess. You gonna be there?"

"Where else do you think I'd be, dork!"

He was right. Stupid question.

"OK then, I'll see you."

I was just about to switch off when Garry said, "Wait!"

I listened. There was a pause and Garry continued, "Thanks! I mean it. It's
gonna be OK isn't it?"

This was the deadly serious Garry. He could see a way out of his
not-too-pleasant life, and now it was actually going to happen he was scared.
The question was a statement of fact as much as anything else.

I dropped my voice and whispered, "'Course it's going to be alright." Then
added, "I love you. See you tomorrow."

"Love you too, See ya!"


Chapter Three.

I could have left home there and then and been happy to drive to Oxford to camp
out on their doorstep overnight until they woke up. Instead I satisfied myself
with a couple of pints of lager and an early night.

Despite a slow drive, I was parked up at the end of their road before nine
o'clock the next morning looking at their house and thinking that I wouldn't
have to do this trip much more, thank God!

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't actually bought Garry a birthday
present. What with all the joking about his birthday present being to move in
with me and so on, it'd completely slipped my mind. Now I had a slight problem.
Did I do nothing and not buy him anything; did I get him something special or
did I get him something in between? Something special might send the wrong
signals to his parents, almost as if I was congratulating him for leaving home.
Getting nothing would seem churlish; Garry wouldn't mind, but I'm sure his dad
would notice. I chose to resort to the old stand-by and get some deodorant and
after-shave stuff for him. With a bit of luck, I would be able to give him a
special and more personal gift later!

As much to kill time as anything else, I drove to the shops, chose a gift and
had them wrap it for me. I was still twenty minutes early, but I was pissed off
with hanging about and so went straight to their house. No sooner had I pulled
up outside than the front door opened and out shot a very excited young man.
With a supreme effort, he managed to slow himself down and walk fairly
leisurely towards me, his beautiful face wreathed in smiles. Putting a friendly
arm on the shoulder nearest to me and ensuring he kept a little distance away
from me, we went back into the house. The last thing we needed was an all-out
embrace and kiss on the front door-step, much as we would have liked it.

I was slightly nervous as we sat and had a cup of coffee once I'd said hello to
everyone. I gave Garry his present which he opened with typical speed and a
'thanks!' accompanied by another heart-stopping smile. I really must get a grip
of myself; I can't keep going all sentimental every time he smiles at me - my
cock would never take the strain!

It wasn't long before 'The Subject' came up. I explained about my job and what
it was all about, as much as I knew anyway, and also lied that the job came
with a flat which was too big for one and that's when I thought of Garry. He
was listening intently, staring into his drink and swinging his legs under the
table avoiding eye contact with everyone. My uncle and aunt seemed satisfied
with my explanation and the provisional arrangements I'd made so far and told
Garry to thank me. Not, I noticed, any questions asking if he still wanted to
come and stay with me. Garry mumbled a quiet 'thanks' still not looking at me
fully. His father was about to say something to him, but changed his mind and
said to me, "We can give you 25 pounds a week towards his keep."

This was a bombshell. It was the last thing I thought they'd do, and I
certainly wasn't going to ask them for help, no matter how short we were. For
an instant I was furious with them: it was almost as if I was being paid to
take a troublesome kid off their hands. Then I thought better of it and
accepted the offer with grateful thanks, allowing themselves to feel better now
that they could feel less guilty about selling their son, which I thought it
came very close to.

How Garry felt during this conversation I'll never know: I never had the
courage to ask him. It must have been extremely painful for him, being talked
about as if he were a bag of goods being bought and sold. Thankfully, once one
or two little things had been ironed out, the topic was dropped and we changed
to lighter things. When I asked Garry what he'd got for his birthday, he perked
up and dragged me off upstairs to his room. I think we were all grateful for
the break anyway.

Once inside the door, even before it was closed, Garry leapt up at me, wrapped
his legs round my waist and kissed me deeply. He was getting too big for this
now and being unprepared for the onslaught, I almost fell over. I pushed him
down to his feet and kissed him again, quickly, just in case we were
interrupted. His presents were scattered around his desk and bed, the torn and
discarded wrappings decorating the floor. Most of them were clothes: shirts,
socks, trousers and so on. And, I suddenly realised they were nearly all
school-type clothes. I stared at him questioningly and asked, "No games or
anything?"

"Nope." He replied. I got what I needed though. Especially as Im leaving
home, he added happily.

Apparently once the surprise of my phone call was over, they'd had a family
conference and all had agreed that he should go if he wanted. I hadn't thought
about this aspect and was thrown a bit by it. Garry explained to me that once
it'd been agreed that he could go, everyone had decided to buy him 'useful'
instead of 'birthday' presents, which meant school clothes. I determined that
later I would buy him something more appropriate than school shirts and socks.

I'd been asked if I wanted to stay for the night, but had got out of it by
saying that I wanted to go to Dover and spend Sunday cleaning the flat up and
moving some of my stuff in. Garry's eyes lit up suddenly and I knew exactly
what he was thinking, and so did everyone else in the room.

Everyone turned to look at me. This was a totally unexpected turn of events and
my mind turned over rapidly. There was no real difficulty in his coming with
me, except that I didn't fancy the idea of driving to and from Dover the
following day. It was a long way and I have to look after the pennies now.

We compromised somewhat when my uncle offered to meet me on the outskirts of
London on Sunday afternoon and collect Garry. This was workable I thought, and
agreed, much to Garry's delight. Dashing off upstairs, he said he was going to
pack his things. I would probably have driven all the way there and back anyway
for the chance of spending a night alone with Garry, but they weren't to know
that were they?

There was a bumping and banging down the stairs and we all turned to see Garry
struggling to carry a gigantic suitcase. It was obviously full, and heavy:
Garry was sweating and panting with the effort as he fought his way to the
front door. The case held a great deal more than anything he could possibly
need for an over-night stay, and there was no way he could have packed it in
the two or three minutes he was out of the room. But nobody said anything. I
offered to help him carry it out to the car, but he was determined to do it
himself and wouldn't let me anywhere near it. As far as he was concerned, it
was the ending of one chapter of his life and the start of a new and better
one, and he was determined to do it himself. He allowed me to help just a
little as we lifted it into the back of my Landrover.

There wasn't much to keep either of us in Oxford after this, and with almost
indecent haste, Garry and me made our way to leave. I looked in the mirrors as
we drove away. His mother was standing in the door waving at us. His father had
returned to his newspaper and pipe.

We were driving up the hill out of his village when it suddenly struck me.
Within the past couple of hours somehow I'd managed to sort Garry out, sort
some more cash out for us, get half his belongings in the car, and incidentally
end up with an exuberant 13-year-old bouncing up and down in the seat next to
me sorting his prized comics out, on the way to Dover for the night! Four weeks
ago, there was me and my college - full stop!!

Once we were on the open road, Garry stacked his pile of magazines and comics
up neatly and put them on the floor. Then he turned round and said, "I can't
believe it!"

"What?" I replied smiling at him.

"You and me. We've done it!" He slid closer to me, slipped his arms round my
waist and hugged me tightly. He reached over, kissed me on the neck and grinned
impishly, his arms still gripping me firmly.

"What you got in your case? It weighs a ton," I asked.

"My things." was all he deigned to answer, as if that explained everything.

"When did you pack it? You couldn't have done all that in two minutes."

"Nope. I started putting things in it the day after we came back from camping.
All the clothes I didn't need straightaway, my best games and things, some
books, some .........."

"Ok," I interrupted, " I get the idea, but don't you think you were just a bit
previous?"

"Naaah. I knew you'd get things organised."

I didn't mention to him that his packing a suitcase might just have given the
game away to his parents if they had seen it!

"Where is Dover anyway?" he asked as he made himself comfortable on the seat;
as usual, curled up foetus-like with his head in my lap, one thumb in his mouth
and the other hand making its way southwards.

"Here, have a look at the maps." I tossed him my road atlas, "I think its on
page 80."

If I thought this might stop him toying with his dick or taking his thumb from
his mouth, I was mistaken. He turned over onto his back, rested the atlas on
his knees and turned to page 80. Back went the thumb and back went the hand. I
ruffled his hair and smiled at him. This was the Garry I knew and loved. He
could be clever and mature when he wanted to be, a 13-year-old son anyone would
be proud of: he could also be charmingly child-like and innocent when he was
comfortable and at ease. Secretly there was nothing he liked more than a big
cuddle and a lot of tender loving care.

His head was resting in my groin and quite deliberately he rolled his head
slightly from side to side, knowing precisely the effect it would have on me.
Within seconds I was rock-hard and had to lift his head up to move my dick
somewhere less painful. He didn't even bother to stir himself, just as if I was
doing the most natural thing in the world. I reached over and picked up the
atlas. His cock was sticking out from his flies, his hand wrapped round it
lovingly, which was no more or less than I expected of him. I replaced the
atlas and relaxed, concentrating on my driving. Life at that moment was
particularly good I thought to myself. Very good in fact.

An hour later we were approaching the outskirts of London. I decided to drive
round rather than have the hassle of fighting my way through the centre: it was
longer, but we were in no particular hurry and I didn't want to disturb the
magical atmosphere in the car. I stopped at some traffic lights and Garry
raised his head just enough to see where we were.

"I'm hungry," he said as much to himself as to me and dropped his head back in
my lap. Like me, he was far too comfortable and peaceful to be bothered much
about anything, but a boy and his stomach ............ !

I pulled into the next roadside cafe we saw and stretched my arms and legs.

"Wanna go in for a meal, or take-away?" I asked.

"Dunno. Let's go see what they got."

The fresh air hit us suddenly, rudely waking us up from our dream-world. There
was nothing special to eat in the cafe, so we made do with a couple of hot-dogs
and tins of soft drink. Throwing them into the car, I headed for the toilets.
Garry followed, almost holding my hand but deciding against it at the last
second. We were in the big world now, not his dream one. The toilets were
disgusting and we didn't stay in there a second longer than we had to, not even
to wash - our hands were a damn sight cleaner, even after we'd had a piss, than
the sink had been in many years I guessed.

We sat in the car and finished our food in silence. Garry had opted to take my
place behind the wheel, relegating me to the passenger seat. We threw the
remains of the packaging at the waste bin, missed, and left it to join the rest
of the rubbish scattered around.

"Can I ......." Garry started, but was stopped as I interrupted him.

"Not here, too busy. But I promise you can later." Driving around country lanes
was one thing; driving down a busy main road quite another!

We were wide awake now and taking much more notice of the world around us. I
glanced at the atlas and worked out roughly we had about forty miles to go. Get
there about six I judged. Then I remembered: I hadn't told my landlady that we
were coming down tonight! I started to look for a place to stop and phone her.
Five miles later, I turned off onto a side road and stopped. Fortunately she
was at home and sounded pleased to hear from me. I explained that we were
coming down to drop some things off at the flat and would probably stay the
night if that was alright. There was no objection and I breathed a sigh of
relief.

Garry had wandered off while I was making the call and I suddenly heard him
shout out, "John, come over here and look at this."

There was no urgency in his voice, so I walked leisurely towards him. He was
sitting under a tree, trousers round his knees and his cock standing perfectly
upright between his splayed legs. He flashed one of his special grins at me and
stared at his swollen member.

"It's done it again!" he giggled.

There was nothing I could do, or wanted to do, about his brazenness just then.
I strode over and sat alongside, taking his cock in my hand and stroking it.
It'd been ages since we'd done anything together and I was suddenly aware of
how much I'd missed his presence and was desperate for him.

I pushed him onto his back, still holding on to his red-hot prick and kissed
him deeply. His arms wrapped themselves round my neck and locked on firmly.
We'd kissed before of course, hundreds of times, but this was different. We
were together now, officially and for ever. All the tension and worries of the
past days dissipated, all the problems had been solved and we could relax into
each other. Our kisses became more passionate and harder; I let go of his cock
and hugged him tightly against me, my hands worming their way under his clothes
to be next to his silky smooth skin. I felt his fingers desperately struggling
in vain to unfasten my belt and trousers. Breaking off our embrace for a
second, we fumbled our trousers down as far as they would go and allowed our
bodies to writhe and mingle together in a frenzy of a too-long frustrated
desire.

I lay him on top of me, our bone-hard dicks alongside each other, and cuddled
him. This was what all the planning and scheming had been about, this was what
we both needed and wanted so badly. This was Garry and John together at last.

I don't know how long we were there like that: time had ceased to mean anything
the moment I touched him. I moved my hands down to his butt cheeks and squeezed
them gently, pulling him tightly into my groin. Garry moaned in ecstasy and
thrust his tongue deeper into my mouth, his body melding into mine. I was dimly
aware of his desperate boyish thrustings, our cocks in a hot passionate embrace
of their own, throbbing and beating together. I felt the exquisite tremor as he
ejaculated suddenly and viciously, his boiling sperm spasming out, serving to
bond us even closer. He was too far gone even to notice his cumming or to fly
into one of his awe-inspiring orgasmic fits. Even after the release of his
pent-up tension, he never ceased in his embraces or incessant kisses.
Eventually, between kisses, he lifted his head just enough to look into my eyes
and whispered softly, "Fuck me. Please?"

His voice was so plaintive and wistful that there was no way on Earth any man
could have resisted him. I didn't care who was around, didn't care where we
were, didn't even care who knew about us. I lifted him up and sat him on my
chest. Resting his delicate hands on my chest he looked at me, the urgent need
for loving showing in his face. Staring deeply into his eyes, I grasped his
waist and pulled him up. He grasped my cock with both his hands and held it as
he slowly searched for the spot. Satisfied he was in the right place, he
suddenly dropped straight down. There was the merest grimace as he released the
muscle tension in his thighs and plunged, taking in all my solid tool in one
quick movement before he came to a stop against my balls, his angelic face
contorted with passion, his eyes shining with satisfaction.

"That's fucking magic! It's been too long, John. Christ, that feels good!"

I lay and stared glassy-eyed; first at his radiant beauty, then at his shiny
adolescent prick, still painfully erect. It'd never looked nicer or more
attractive, the tiny droplets of his love-juice glistening in the sun and
serving only to fuel my desires, the growing fringe of soft downy pubic hair at
the base of his dick looking for all the world like a golden halo.

Neither of us were in a fit state to last very long and within three or four
strokes we both shot volcanic loads, desperately and frantically: his second
and still powerful, my first and no less forceful. They arrived with
frightening speed, but it didn't matter in the slightest. We'd proved our love
for each other in the best possible way, satisfying our physical lust in a few
heaven-sent thrusts, celebrating our deep and abiding love. Completely
exhausted we pulled our trousers up and nestled together in perfect peace.

After a life-time we unwillingly separated ourselves and somewhat sadly walked
side-by-side back to the car, exhausted but blissfully content.


Chapter Four.

We arrived at our new home a little after seven. I slid the car into a vacant
parking bay and opened the front door. Garry was standing slightly behind me as
I knocked to let the landlady know we'd arrived. Beaming, she welcomed us both,
gave Garry a smile and shook his hand. Declining her offer of a cup of tea on
the grounds that we were tired after our journey, we collected as much baggage
as we could and climbed the stairs. Fumbling about in my pocket, I handed Garry
his keys, complete with tag with his name on, and invited him to open our door.
It was the first time he'd been allowed his own door keys. Throwing the gear
inside, Garry ran from room to room, exploring and commenting on the view of
the English Channel from the back bedroom window. Glancing round, it struck me
how tawdry and run-down the place looked. It seemed fine when I first inspected
it, but now my little prince was here I was worried that it wasn't at all the
sort of place to start our life together. I wanted the very best of everything
for him; he was leaving a comfortable, well-furnished home with all the modern
conveniences, to live in a decrepit, rather tawdry, flat. I may have been
pissed off, but not Garry. Pausing only for a fleeting instant to hug me, he
checked the rooms out again, a Cheshire-cat grin filling his face. I started to
feel better seeing how happy he was.

One last trip to the car and we dumped our few belongings on the floor of the
living room and dropped onto the sofa, arms round each other.

"It's fantastic!" he stammered, "It's OK!"

We kissed quickly as I said, "Welcome home." That earned me another kiss and
the start of another hard-on, which I chose to ignore, at least for the time
being.

Within an hour we'd sorted the boxes out, replaced the crockery and cutlery
with our own, put one or two bits or personal stuff around and arranged the
furniture as we wanted. My small portable TV was fitted up - it would do us
until I brought my full-size one down, and the place began to look like a home.
Garry's suitcase was the last to be sorted, and I saw him hesitate for a moment
as he dragged it to the door of what was going to be his room. With a slightly
defiant grin, he pulled the case past the door and into what he'd determined
was to be OUR room. Accepting this, at least for the time being, I went to help
him. I'd only got a few clothes with me as I'd not intended to move in quite
just yet and so there was plenty of room for Garry's things. Carefully and with
fastidious fairness, he mumbled to himself as he stowed his clothes, 'that's my
draw', 'that's John's'; 'that's my cupboard', that's John's'.

Nine o'clock rolled round and we were more or less finished. Collapsing
together on the big arm- chair with Garry on my lap, we surveyed the room. It
was starting to look better already ands we were both pleased with ourselves. I
realised I was hungry and asked Garry if he wanted to eat Indian or Chinese.

"Indian!" he said.

Dover is the main cross-channel port for England, reputedly the busiest
passenger port in the world. It is only a fairly small town in itself, but
because of the high number of visitors has a lot of hotels and restaurants. Id
been told of a good Indian one not too far away and so once we'd had a wash and
change found our way there.

Although it was quite busy, we managed to get a table for two and settled down
to eat. Garry had dropped into his grown-up 'I'm an adult' mode now and was the
perfect little gentleman, ordering his meal and behaving himself as if it was
something he did everyday. To celebrate I ordered a bottle of red wine. Pouring
a good sized glass for each of us, we raised them to our lips and looked at
each other. A silent 'I love you' flashed between us and we grinned.

After the meal, Garry was all for going back home straight away but after only
a little persuasion changed his mind and we went for a walk towards the
harbour. On the way I pointed out some places of importance for him; the
railway station, the bus station, Dover Castle way up on the hilltop over the
town, and his new school on the opposite side of town, just visible between the
houses.

It was almost midnight when we got back much to our surprise. We'd been walking
and talking for nearly two hours and hadn't noticed. Neither of us felt
particularly tired, the day had been far too full of excitement for that and we
hadn't quite come down from our emotional high yet. We sat and watched the tiny
TV for a while, but Garry was restless, shifting his position on my lap,
grinding his butt into my groin and nuzzling against my neck. It was obvious
what was on his mind - mine too come to that. The only problem was that we had
no bedding! There were a couple of manky old blankets in the cupboard which had
seen better days, and I didn't fancy sleeping under those! Resorting to the
trusty sleeping bags, we retrieved them from the back of the Landrover and
spread them out on 'our' bed. They would have to do for tonight. Garry said
that it was like camping out again, but indoors this time.

We undressed together, dropping our clothes where we stood. I kept my
underpants on, as much out of habit as anything else. Garry had his on as well,
but a sly grin and a slow, deliberate removal of them soon persuaded me to take
mine off as well. We climbed into bed, wrapped the make-shift covers round us
and cuddled up close, Garry resting his head on my chest. We sighed together
and made ourselves comfortable.

Looking out of the window in front of us, we watched the twinkling lights in
the harbour, illuminating the cross-channel ferries as they wove their way in
and out of the quays. Way off on the horizon we could just make out the orange
glow of the streetlights on the French coast, some 20 or 25 miles away. We
enjoyed the view in silence, me stroking Garry's soft hair and Garry breathing
gently on my chest. I asked Garry if he was happy, but there was no response.
He'd drifted off to sleep. Kissing him gently on the forehead, I whispered
'goodnight' and closed my eyes. My last conscious memory was of my cherub,
wrapped round my body, a leg draped across mine with a knee pressing lightly in
my groin and his flaccid (for once!) dick nestled against my thigh.

Dawn came early, it was only just after six am when I opened my eyes to the new
day. Sometime during the night, Garry had changed sides and was now stretched
out full length alongside me, his head on the pillow. He was twirling my cock
hairs between his fingers, watching as my cock slowly filled up. I became aware
of his morning erection pressing into my thigh and I turned over to look at
him. His eyes were half-open as he yawned and said, "Morning! It's about time
you woke up. I've been awake for ages."

"Morning!" I replied, stretching out. "How are you today?"

"Perfect." he sighed.

He squirmed round under the cover, rested his head on my shoulder and began to
nibble my ear.

"That tickles!" I laughed, pushing his head away. He gave me a quick kiss on
the ear as if to say sorry, and lay on top of me, resting on his elbows.

"What we gonna do today?" he said quietly, yawning again.

"I don't know yet. It's too early." I closed my eyes and rested.

"Wanna cup of coffee?" he said, scrambling off the bed.

I opened my eyes and looked at him standing next to me, still naked, his
erection pointing straight at me.

"Christ!" I grinned, "I'm not sure I can cope with that thing staring me in the
face first thing in the morning, beautiful though it is!" I took hold of his
cock and gave it a squeeze.

He thrust himself forwards ever so slightly and smiled.

"Get some pants on if you're gonna make coffee, I'd hate for you to scald it.
What would your mum say if I sent you home with a burnt dick?"

He laughed lightly and searched for his pants, pulling them up as he staggered
towards the kitchen, hopping from foot to foot. I got up as he disappeared and
went for a piss. Getting back into bed, I settled back in the warmth and
thought. The first thing we had to do was make a list of the things we needed
for the flat, then arrange the bedrooms properly and ...... I was turning these
thoughts over in my mind when Garry came back, balancing two cups of coffee and
a plate of toast precariously in his hands. Setting them on the bedside chair,
he jumped on the bed sitting cross-legged next to me, chewing on a slice of
toast. Taking my cup, I looked at him over the top of it, thinking how lucky I
was to have such an angel to love and cherish.

Finishing my impromptu breakfast, I rested my hand on his knee and stroked it.
Garry, swallowing the last mouthful of toast wriggled down and cuddled up to
me, thumb in his mouth and eyes closed. I wiped away a few crumbs from his lips
and kissed him.

"Mmmmmmmmm, that's nice!" he mumbled. He pushed his thumbs inside his pants and
took them off. "That's better!" he sighed and I felt his cock stir against my
leg as he settled down. I spread my legs apart for him as I felt a cool hand
take my cock and begin to rub it. My hand found his and did the same for him.
Once I was solidly hard, which didn't take long, Garry spun round, and kneeling
astride me, bent over and took my cock into his mouth, sucking on it gently and
rubbing my balls with his fingertips. Reaching under him, I took both his
hairless balls in mine and held them, feeling their weight before running my
fingers up and down his proud erection. I let him carry on tonguing and sucking
me for as long as he wanted; I was quite happy to have the pleasure of gently
massaging his dick for him as he did so, feeling it throb in my hand.

Slowly he turned round and lay on top of me, inserting his prick between my
legs. He moaned as he settled down and began to thrust up and down with short,
sensual movements. His belly was rubbing my cock wonderfully with each thrust
back and forth. I clasped my hands on his butt cheeks and encouraged him to
move a little quicker. Gradually he built up the speed and force as he headed
towards his climax and the thrustings became more and more urgent and
desperate. I slipped a finger inside his hole and pushed, searching for his
tiny prostate. He began moaning and shouting ecstatically as between us we
drove him closer and closer towards the edge. His back arched, his head was
thrown back and with a last, impassioned thrust he lost his load, shooting out
solid pellets of hot, precious cum to cover my balls and drip onto the
bedcover. His body, now rigid and trembling violently, eyes glazed and mouth
agape, collapsed on top of me struggling for breath. Tightly I held him,
forcing my tongue deep into his throat as we kissed fervently. My own cum
cemented us together as we gradually returned to Earth.

Garry was speechless. I'd learned by experience that these episodes took a
great deal out of him, and he was also embarrassed by his total inability to
stop it happening once he was travelling that route. I stroked his back as he
stared at me, eyes still slightly glazed with a bemused expression on his face.
Tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"Sorry! Sorry!" he cried, burying his head on my shoulder. "I can't ..... I
can't"

I shushed him and kissed him again delicately. "Don't worry. I think it's the
best thing ever. It shows just how much you enjoy it, and that you like doing
it with me enough to go like that."

He managed a weak smile and closed his eyes, soon to drop into a peaceful doze.
This was the Garry I knew and loved. Don't let him change, ever.

Eventually of course, we had to make a move. Leaving him to wake up slowly, I
had a quick shower and dressed, making us another drink. I sorted some clean
clothes out for him, put the soap and shampoo out in the shower and woke him
up. Rubbing his eyes as he sat up, he started to apologise again but I stopped
him and said, grinning, "Don't panic! I wouldn't have it any other way! I love
you for it!"

As he showered, I thought about it. To begin with it scared me when he reacted
like this, but I had got used to it, and it was worrying him more than me now.
I think that it frightened him badly sometimes, not that he would admit it of
course. Hopefully he would grow out of it, or learn to live with it: either way
was fine by me. To be honest, I think it was more or less a matter of his body
getting used to the intensity of his adolescent hormones and he would soon get
them under control. I was simply glad that I was able to be there for him and
for us to work it through together.

Once dressed, we hit the town. First thing was breakfast, which we had standing
at a tea bar on the sea front. Garry was ravenous as usual and downed twice as
much as I did, grinning like a two-year old all the while. He was back to
normal. There was a street market in the car park and we wandered around in the
crowd enjoying the sea-air and sun. I picked up a few things for the flat; bed
sheets and blankets, towels and other odds and ends. Garry was away on his own
exploring the games and toys I imagined. He came back after a while with an
armful of comics. He stuffed them into the bag and grabbing me by the arm,
pulled me over to a clothes stall.

"Can we get some shirts?" he asked, "They've got some good ones here."

Nodding agreement I watched as he searched through the rack. It took him a
while to find what he wanted and threw them on his shoulder as he turned his
attention to the box of shorts. Picking two pairs out, he added them to the
shirts and handed them to the stall holder. I paid for them and we started to
walk back to the flat. It was getting close towards the time when we would have
to make a move to meet his father.

Back indoors he stood in the middle of the floor and stripped off down to his
pants. It wasn't all that long ago we'd had some fun, and I was not really in
the mood for any more sex just then. But for once, that wasn't on his mind I
realised as he hurriedly unwrapped the clothes we'd bought. He produced two
sets of identical clothes, one for me and one for him. The T-shirts were pale
blue cotton with a Dover badge on them, the shorts were white and matched
perfectly.

"Go on, get 'em on," he said. "We got the same. It'll be brilliant!"

He was right. If I looked half as good as he did, then they were OK. He was an
attractive boy at the best of times, and wearing these new clothes made him
look even more handsome. I felt a familiar twinge in my groin as I looked at
him. Not for the first time I thought that maybe, just maybe, he might be
better-looking than was good for him. I made a mental note to have a talk to
him sometime, along with several other things.

We locked the flat, threw his now empty suitcase in the car and reluctantly
headed off to find his father. He was in a rather subdued mood as we drove,
idly flicking through his comics. I knew what he was thinking and there was
nothing I could do about it. Reaching the point where I'd made the phone call
to our landlady, Garry stared out of the window at 'our' tree. Without a word,
he grinned at me, made a grab for my balls and squeezed gently. He then curled
up on the seat, adopted his now normal travelling position and closed his eyes.
I removed his thumb from his mouth, replaced it with mine and settled down to
drive as I watched his hand snake down to his shorts.

"What time we meeting dad?" he asked after a while, staring at my prune-like
thumb.

"About three. I said we'd give him a ring and let him know where we were."

"Mmmm," he replied glancing at his watch. "About an hour to spare then."

The inference was obvious. I sighed dramatically and said, "No Way, Jose! I'm
plumb tuckered out!"

"No you're not, I can tell." he rolled his head over my burgeoning cock. "And
I'm ready for it, see?" He lifted his shorts up to show me. There was a pause
before he went on, "And in any case it's going to be ages before we can do
anything again, isn't it?"

He'd done it again. The combination of his pleading voice and tantalising
glimpse of his adorable dick were too much. That, and the reminder we were
about to be separated again settled the matter and we began to look for
somewhere to park up for a while.

Finding a quiet spot down one of the many country lanes surrounding us, I
braked to a halt under a tree and gazed at him. "Well?" I grinned, "Now what?"

"Bollocks!" he smiled and made a dive for my groin. Frantically he undid the
button of my shorts and forced them down as far as he could, along with my
pants.

"Wait!" I panted, "Let's go outside."

Garry scanned the countryside for signs of life as I searched in the back of
the Landrover. Finding what I wanted stuffed in the corner, I untied the
plastic sheet and opened it up. Spreading it out on the grass in front of the
car, I glanced at Garry who recognised the dreaded object immediately and
pulled a face. It was the sheet from his bed.

Sitting in the middle of it, my legs spread as far apart as they would go, I
lay Garry down between them and stroked his cheeks. He sighed blissfully and
leaned up to press his lips against mine, giving me three or four quick pecks,
teasing me with his tongue. Unable to take much of this, I grabbed the back of
his head and forced him to me, sinking my tongue into his warm mouth. I felt
his body soften as he relaxed. We took pleasure in each other for a few
minutes, alternately kissing and stroking each other, knowing that we wouldn't
be able to be as close as this for quite some time to come.

Garry suddenly sat back on his haunches and pulled his shirt off. "This ain't
no good. Quick, get 'em off!" he panted. "Come on!"

In less time than it takes to tell, we were stripped bare and hugging each
other, our boners dancing together between us. Dropping to the ground we faced
each other and smiled. Gently I took Garry's leaking cock in my hand and rolled
his foreskin between my fingers as he started to stroke mine slowly. I
manoeuvred my spare hand to his chest and stroked his nipples between my finger
and thumb, leaning down to kiss them wetly.

"Oh Christ! Don't, don't!" he gasped, "Oh Jesus! John, ....."

A hand shot up to grab mine, but stopping me was the very last thing on his
mind. He held it there as I rubbed his now firmly erect little nipples. I felt
his dick swell and become even hotter if that were possible and it throbbed
massively. He'd lost all power of speech by now and was thrashing about on the
ground as if possessed, low guttural sounds escaping from his gaping mouth.
Frightened I was going to send him over the top far too soon, I eased off and
kissed his lovely pink lips. He returned the kiss violently, his tongue
writhing to find mine in desperation. Throwing his body on top of me, he
grabbed my hair, pulled me tightly into him and sunk his tongue even deeper.
Gradually he withdrew from the precipice and regained control of his breathing.
He was glowing bright red from head to toe, beads of sweat glistening on his
brow. His hands returned to my dripping cock and stroked it lovingly.

"Lift your legs up," he whispered.

I did as I was asked, willingly, and held them back out of the way as he
re-positioned himself. He smeared some of his pre-cum over the end of his
shaft, peeled his foreskin back and pushed. With remarkable ease, my pucker
opened up to accept him and he let it slide in, relishing every millimetre as
he lowered himself down.

There were no words this time, just a moan of delight as he rested for a
second. Then he started, excruciatingly slowly at first, pulling back until his
corona was just inside, then pushing back until he was as far as he could
reach. I counted three, four, five times as he fucked me, his nails biting deep
into my shoulders with the effort. Six, seven, eight ......... I stopped
counting as he got faster and faster, now almost screaming with passion.

 "Go, go, go ......." he repeated, "Fucking go!"

My head span and I lost all sense of reality as he thrust backwards and
forwards, time and time again. Then, with one urgent and final push, he
ejaculated fearsomely, I swear I could feel his cum spraying my inside with his
beautiful sperm. His little hand, still griping my ultra-rigid dick was covered
in my spunk as I joined him. Quickly I pulled him down and covered his lips
with mine to silence him, one hand on his back, the other covering his butt
cheeks as he spasmed time and time again. This was the longest time ever he'd
blanked out and I was just getting really concerned when he came to, tears
rolling down his cheeks in happiness.

We cuddled and hugged as our dicks slowly softened, mine slipping un-noticed
from his well- lubricated hole. Garry smiled at me wickedly, twisted round and
swiped the cum off my belly with his tongue and swallowed it.

"Now I've got you in both ends of me!" he giggled. "Something to remember you
by."

We dressed ourselves and sat together with arms linked.

"When can I move down properly?" he asked.

I'd been thinking about that and hadn't really come to an answer. As soon as
possible was my gut reaction, but there were other considerations to be taken
into account. It would take me a few days to tidy the flat up and start my new
job; it would take Garry a little while to collect his school stuff and tell
them he was leaving, and about thirty seconds to pack.

"About two weeks I guess."

There was a momentary flash of disappointment, but it quickly went as he
thought about it.

"That's OK then, but no longer or I'll change my mind!"

"Bollocks!" I mouthed at him, "as if!"

I got another hug for that and a kiss.

"Come on then, let's go and find my old man."

We helped each other to our feet and stared at the plastic sheet. Almost
ceremoniously we scrunched it up and threw it into the bushes. I knew we
wouldn't ever be needing that again.

END OF PART ONE. (Four more to cum!)





		
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