Date: Tue, 27 Dec 2005 10:19:35 +0000 (GMT) From: roy p...... Subject: And he scores 2 More of a coming of age story which shares a boy's learning of same sex relationships with a man's understanding of letting the past go. I hope you enjoy it, if you do and want more, please let me know. Roy. sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk And he Scores 2 A few days later Bryan went next door to see Fred again. It was late afternoon and Bryan had been home from school long enough to change from his school clothes into jeans and a t- shirt, and read the note on the kitchen table. 'Gone to Gran's. Billy [Bryan's younger brother] is with us. Get yourself some tea from the fish shop. Back about 10. Love Mum' it said, and a 5 note was with it. Bryan had been thinking a lot about Fred, and what had happened on Saturday. He knew he liked it, and wanted to do it again, as Fred had done all those years ago. He envied Fred having his Jimmy Carson, even though he had left Fred eventually. The times they must have had together would have been fun, exciting, satisfying. The more he thought about Fred, the sorrier Bryan felt. He had known love, and lost it. Perhaps they could give each other what was missing from their lives. "Oh, hello, Bryan!" Fred said as he opened his front door. "Football in my garden again, eh?" "No Mr. Hopkins - er - Fred. I just - er came to see you. Is that OK?" Bryan smiled. "Of course Bryan. Come in!" Fred said, standing back to let Bryan in. "I thought that - if it's alright - you could show me the album again." Bryan suddenly felt as if he were intruding, he remembered Fred's unhappiness at being reminded about Jimmy on Saturday. "Yes, of course I can. Come on through!" Fred led him into the living room and they sat on the settee. Bryan was a little surprised that the album was still out, sitting on the coffee table in the middle of the room. "I was looking through it again." Fred said, handing the album to Bryan. "Remembering the good old days, I suppose!" Bryan turned to the page he was last on, the holiday pictures. There were several photos of the boys playing on the beach, in the sea, and climbing on rocks. Fred told Bryan what was happening in each photograph, what game they were playing or where they were trying to climb to. There was a picture of them both standing by a small tent in a field. "That's where we slept." Fred said. Bryan fleetingly tried to guess what else they did in there. The last photograph of the holiday pictures was of the two boys, taken from behind. They were standing on the beach, in shorts and tshirts, staring out to sea at a beautiful red sunset on the horizon. Their arms were on each other's shoulders. "I didn't know Mum had taken that." Fred said. "I found it years afterwards, when I was clearing out her things after she'd when she'd gone." "It's a lovely photograph." Bryan said, "It's very romantic." He looked at Fred's face, hoping he hadn't upset him. "I'd just told Jimmy I loved him, and I wanted to be with him always." Fred said. "He said he loved me too, but -" "He probably did at the time," Bryan said, thinking quickly. "Yes." said Fred. As Bryan turned the album's pages, Fred described the pictures that appeared. A trip to the zoo, a carnival procession in the town centre, playing football in the garden or the street. Finally there were three pictures of the boys opening Christmas presents in a living room somewhere. "That was at his house." Fred explained. "He asked me to come round with some of my presents and open them there, with his family. We has a wonderful day, and I stayed the night with him as well." Bryan looked at Fred, wanting a fuller description but aware that it had been a private, intimate time. "Yes Bryan, I slept in his room with him, in his bed. We gave ourselves to each other that night. We took each other's love as far as we could." Fred shared the secret that had remained untold till then. "What-" Bryan started to ask. Fred closed the album and took it from him. "What was it like?" he stood, placed the album on the table and turned to Bryan. "I'll tell you what it was like. It was incredible. Fantastic. The best thing we'd ever done. Just Imagine, Bryan, we were 14, and horny as hell. We got each other off every way we could. We thought we loved each other, but of course it was just teenage lust, I can see now. I've held on to that 'love' thing for too many years, Bryan, we were just two kids using each other to get our rocks off. We fucked each other twice that night, and once again in the morning. Our dicks were red raw, and we walked like bow- legged cowboys all the next day. But you wouldn't have got the smiles off our faces with even a scrubbing brush." "Don't hate him Fred." Bryan said, astonished at the outburst. Fred sat down again. "No, I don't." he said. "I hate myself, for not moving on." This wasn't going the way Bryan expected at all, in fact he thought it might be better if he were to go. "I'd better go." He said. Fred realised his outburst had upset his neighbour boy. "Oh I'm sorry, Bryan!" Fred said, "I didn't mean to fire off at you. Please don't think you have to go, not because of that." He paused for a moment, hoping he hadn't scared the boy off. "Would you like a cold lemonade?" he asked. "Yes, please." Bryan answered, uneasily. He'd go. It had gone wrong. He'd hoped he could replace Fred's Jimmy, but he had misunderstood the signs. He'd overstepped the mark and lit a fire of anger instead of rekindling one of love. A love that wasn't his to share. Yes, he'd better go. "I'd better go, after all." Fred handed him the glass of drink. "You don't have to." Fred said. "You didn't come round just to see some old photographs, did you?" Bryan, his nose buried in the glass, shook his head. Fred took the half-finished drink, set it down on the table and offered his hand to Bryan. Bryan took it, and the next thing he knew Fred was carrying him, one arm under his back and the other under his legs, up the stairs. Once in the bedroom, Fred sat on the bed and stood the boy in front of him. Bryan lifted his arms as Fred raised his t-shirt from his waist, over his head and off. He kicked off his trainers as Fred unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and pushed them down. He stepped out of them, and kicked his socks off too. Fred led him by the hand to sit by his side. "Are you sure?" Fred asked. Bryan nodded his head. "Absolutely certain?" Bryan smiled weakly and nodded again. Fred stood, swung the boy's legs round up onto the bed, and looked down at him. Silently, and watching Bryan as he did it, Fred stripped down to his boxers. Bryan felt the hardness of anticipation grow, lifting a pointed hump in his white cotton underpants. Fred knelt over Bryan and lowered his face to the boy's neck, nuzzling the curve to his shoulder and lightly kissing the top of his chest. Slowly, inching down, Fred's lips and nose slid over the smooth skin, the lips peck-kissing every quarter inch, until they reached his nipple. The back of Bryan's neck tingled as the man's tongue flicked the little bud, and the boy's back arched to lift him closer to the sensation. After a few seconds' teasing, and a final kiss to the hardened teat, Fred's lips slid across to the other nipple and gave that similar attention. Bryan's chest tingled with sensory desire as his body succumbed to the warm caresses. Again Fred's lips moved, back across to the middle of the young trembling chest, then down, tracing its breastbone, his tongue momentarily tickling the dimple where the ribcage ended, feeling a quivering diaphragm fuelled by tiny sensory jolts making Bryan's breathing jerky and shallow, then over his tense stomach to the navel. Fred's tongue circled the point where life and nurture had entered the boy's body before his birth, round and round, three, four, five, six times then in, the tip seeming to contract as small as a cotton bud, searching out the sealing point of the little tunnel. Bryan felt Fred's fingers pulling the leg hem of his pants, and lifted his bottom to allow them to slip down to his knees. With three shuffles of his legs and a final kick, he sent them somewhere on the bedroom floor. Fred's tongue gave a last circle to Bryan's navel, then trailed further down. Down to the base of where all Bryan's new sensations were aiming, the little nail as hard and fragile as a wineglass stem, and circled tantalisingly round it. Fred had moved down, and lifted the boy's ankles along the bedsheet, bending his legs at the knee and the hip, exposing totally areas that Bryan was about to learn could generate the strongest sensual feelings when stimulated correctly. Fred circled twice the point where Bryan's genitals joined his body lightly with his tongue, then tickled the skin beneath his scrotum, flicking his tongue quickly up and down. Bryan tried to close his legs against it, but Fred's hands held his ankles tight. Fred licked up, in one slow continuous movement, from the very edge of the boy's puckered rosebud, over the skin, the tight scrotum, teasing apart the two little nuts inside, and up the tube under his hard little penis. Fred paused for three or four seconds, feeling the twitching of the organ with every beat of Bryan's heart, then lifted his tongue to where Bryan's foreskin had rolled down off his cockhead, and up, through the cleft under the boy's most sensitive area, and swirled round and round the head over and over again. Bryan's eyes rolled back under his closed eyelids, his whole body tensed rigidly hard and he bit painfully into his bottom lip. There was no way he could stop what was coming, even if he wanted to: it was more powerful than any force he'd ever encountered before. He felt Fred's lips sucking him in, swallowing his whole cock to the hilt as he exploded inside, his whole being racing down that hard, tender finger in the man's mouth, out and away. Fred's tight lips raised up his cock, slid down loosely and raised again, again and again, milking every last drop from him. Fred knelt up and looked down at the boy, pouring with sweat and trembling hard. His eyelids flickered, but for the instant they opened the eyes behind them were still rolled back into the boy's head. He lay beside Bryan, held him tightly in his arms, felt the boy wrap his arms and legs round him as if his very life depended on it, and watched his face as the climax gently slipped from it and he fell asleep.