Date: Sat, 6 May 2006 20:08:36 +0100 (BST) From: Veneration Subject: Empty Vessel part 5 Your feedback is much appreciated and any comments are welcome. Send to veneration2003@yahoo.co.uk EMPTY VESSEL - BY VENERATION PART 5 CHAPTER 21 "Um, . . . Roger?" "Hello, Zack, come on up," Roger says into the intercom. "The flat door is unlocked." A few minutes later Roger hears a knock on the door. He opens it and sees Zack, who appears nervous and has a faint sheen of sweat on his face. Roger smiles at the boy. "Please, come in," he says and leads him into the flat. "This is a pleasant surprise to see you." Zack looks down at the floor and shuffles his feet. "Er, . . . thanks." "Would you like a cup of tea?" Zack glances up at Roger and his lips twitch into a small smile. "Yes, please." "Have a seat, then, while I get everything ready." Roger gently grasps the boy's upper arm and steers him in the direction of the sofas. Roger returns with two mugs of tea, sugar and a plate of biscuits. Zack sits on a sofa, looking curiously around him. He is more relaxed now that he has made the big step of actually visiting Roger in his home and is reassured by the man's friendly greeting. Roger places the afternoon tea on the coffee table and sits on the other sofa. "There you go, get yourself around that." "Thanks Roger, I can do with a good cuppa." Zack adds three teaspoons of sugar to his tea and stirs vigorously. He picks up a chocolate biscuit, takes a sip of his tea and a bite of the biscuit. "Ah, I needed that," Zack says with a sigh. "An' I love choccy bikkies." He looks over at Roger with a smile that lights up his face. His eyes sparkle and Roger smiles back at the infectious grin. "Good, I'm pleased to hear it. And, how is your holiday going?" "Good. I'm pleased to finish with school. I'm going to high school after the holidays, an' that should be better as it's quite a good school with a good academic programme." Zack's face is animated as he chatters. "And what have you been doing with all this free time you have?" Zack shrugs. "Oh, nothing, just messin' around. I went to see 'Spider Man', that was pretty cool. And I've been doing lots of reading. I just finished the last volume of 'Lord of the Rings'. I loved it, I jus' wish it didn't have to finish. He didn't write anything else, did he?" "Just the 'Silmarillion', which isn't a story, but a history of Middle Earth, and really pretty dull," Roger replies. "You would be better to try something new." "Yeah." Zack looks around the flat. "You said you have some second hand books you would sell me. I can't see any though." A grin lurks in the corners of his mouth as he looks back at Roger. Roger laughs. "Do you remember everything I say?" "Absolutely." "I had better watch what I say, then." "I reckon," Zack agrees. "I do have some books in the study that you can borrow any time you want, You don't have to buy them." "Ta. Um, . . . er, . . ." Zack's voice trails away and he looks down at the floor. Roger observes the sudden dampening of the teen's mood and the return of the old hesitant Zack. "Is everything OK?" The boy nods his head. "Um, . . . Roger, Sam an' Trevor say you're gay, sorry." Zack's face goes slightly pink as he continues to look away from the man. "There's no need to be sorry. Yes, I am gay." "Oh." "Does that bother you?" Roger asks. Zack quickly looks back at Roger. "No, of course not, no. It's jus' that I never met some as is gay before." "I'm sure you have, it's just that you haven't realised it before. We are an invisible breed you know." Zack grins. "Yeah, I suppose. Um, what's it like? You know, being gay an' all?" "Why do you ask?" Zack turns bright red and looks at the floor. He starts to speak, hesitates, then stops. "Gotta pee," he mutters. He leaps to his feet and rushes up the stairs. Roger is left wondering what is going on. A few minutes later the youth returns and sits down again. Zack sighs. He takes a deep breath, then looks steadily at Roger as he speaks. "The thing is, I think I have feelings for boys. The other boys in my class, they're starting to talk about girls and doin' stuff, and stuff; but I'm not interested in any of that. But when I think about boys, and when we're changing at the swimming baths I like to look at them, and I get, well, you know, a bit excited." Zack blushes. "I think I might be gay." Roger's heart goes out to the poor confused lad. "It doesn't necessarily mean that you're gay," he reassures Zack. "Boys your age start to become interested in sex as your bodies develop. It's natural to be curious about other boys, and perhaps experiment a little. But then over time an interest in girls develops." "Yeah, yeah, I know, it's just a phase," Zack replies, a little impatiently. "I've told meself that, but, . . . but, it's more than that." The boy's jaw juts out and he looks solemn, almost stern. "I really just want to be with boys. I think I'm, . . . well, I am gay." "And is that such a bad thing?" "Yeah, I mean no, there's nothin' wrong with being gay." Zack shrugs and smiles wryly. "Well, yeah, I don't want to be queer. I feel such a freak, like everyone else is normal, and I'm scared that someone will find out, at school or at home. Then my life'll really turn to shit." "It's not easy being gay," Roger agrees. "But then, many people's lives are not easy, for a wide variety of reasons. It can be a bit of a trap to expect to be happy, as a basic human right. The thing to do is to get on with what life deals you, and to make the best of it. "It's best if you accept what you are, whatever that is. Your situation in life is different, that can always be improved, but to try and deny your nature to yourself comes at a heavy price that is, in the long run, not worth paying. "Besides, being gay isn't all bad. When you get older you will meet other gays and like-minded people. When you are part of a community of friends, then you wont be isolated and will be free to be yourself. Life as a gay man can be just as satisfying and fulfilling as for anyone else. There are even some advantages over being straight." Zack looks thoughtfully at Roger as he thinks about the man's words, then he grins. "Life is shit, get over it, and get on with it. Is that what you're saying?" Roger laughs. "I wouldn't have put it in quite those words, but in essence, yes." Zack sighs. He brings his feet up onto the sofa and wraps his arms around his knees. The youth looks away as he quietly says "I s'pose we'll be having sex now." Roger regards the boy with a rueful smile. Zack is just starting a journey into the unknown, where his only guidelines are the misconceptions of his peer group and the society around him. In his state of ignorant innocence, Zack is vulnerable to all the hazards of homosexual society. Roger is grateful that he has the chance to guide and protect the teen as he starts this journey. "No, it doesn't mean that at all," Roger insists. "You don't have to have sex with anyone. In fact, you shouldn't until you're ready, and only with someone you're sure you want to make love to. Whatever you do, you should never let yourself be pressured into sex. The person who does that is only thinking of himself, not what's best for you, and he will almost certainly not be the right person to have sex with. "I know that teens are constantly horny and feel a desperate need for sex, but you should remember that you do have plenty of time and there's no hurry for your first experience. In fact, you will find that in the long run you will be much better off to wait until the time and person is right for you." Roger pauses, then chuckles. "Listen to me, I sound like a pompous old twat. Now I know I'm getting old. All I'm trying to say is that you should only have sex when you want with who you want." Zack glances at the man and the pensive look on his face lightens. His face is slightly pink with embarrassment at having such an intimate conversation, but the corners of his lips curl upwards into a half smile. "Thanks, Roger. Er, . . . I don't think I'm ready for sex right now." "That's very wise of you. How about if we just have a hug instead?" Zack raises his eyebrows at the unexpected suggestion and he looks appraisingly at the man. After a moments thought he gets to his feet and moves over to where Roger sits. He looks down, grins and drops onto the sofa besides Roger. Roger wraps his arms around the boy and Zack rests his head against the man's chest. Zack sighs. He feels warm and safe in Roger's arms. While his parents care for him well enough, they are sparing in showing emotions such as love or affection. Cuddling is such a sissy thing for boys to do and Zack has, unknowingly, been starved of the comfort of physical contact in his family. There is also the relief of someone knowing his most dreaded secret, but not hating him for it. The teen's head is a solid weight against Roger's chest. Roger smells the clean fragrance of Zack's newly washed hair. He runs his hand over the short, but dense, crop of light brown hair, lowers his head and kisses the boy on the forehead. Zack sniffles. "What's wrong?" Roger asks. "Nothing. I'm just happy I don't feel so alone any more. I was feeling so lonely." Zack frees himself from Roger's arms, sits up and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "This is stupid. I'm such a wuss for blubbing over nothing." Zack sounds slightly exasperated, slightly ashamed. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. This is one of the advantages of being a gay boy, it's OK to show your emotions." Zack looks sceptical, but he rests his head against the back of the sofa and drapes Roger's arm around his neck. "So you cry often, then do you?" he asks. "Sure. Sad movies make me cry, happy movies make me cry, all that sentimental stuff." Zack looks up at Roger. "Yeah?" "Yes, but don't you dare tell anyone, or I'll have to kill you!" Zack laughs. . o O 0 O o . CHAPTER 22 Roger hears the sound of gunfire, followed by an explosion. The sounds of war swell, with guns firing, explosions, screams, yells, and loud laughter. After quiet is finally restored, Sam and Trevor emerge from the study, red-faced and laughing. "That was a wicked game," Trevor says. His brown eyes under his heavy eyebrows sparkle with happiness. "Yeah, I whipped your butt, boy" Sam crows. "Nah, it were a sheer fluke, buttboy," Trevor retorts. Sam throws a punch at his friend. "Watchit, dipshit," he glowers. The two youths collapse on the sofas, with Sam next to Roger. He rests an ankle on the thigh of his other leg. Sam looks at Roger, grins, nudges his knee against Roger's thigh a couple of times, then lets it rest against the man's leg. "Thanks for letting us sleep over," he says. "Yeah, it's going to be so cool," Trevor says. "We've wanted to have a sleepover for ever, but well, ya know, with nowhere to stay and everythink an' all, we ain't been able to." "It's a pleasure to have your company," Roger tells the boys. "Say, Rog, Sam's been saying 'bout you doing meditation. Sounds pretty weird ta me, what's it all about?" "Meditation is simply a way of trying to follow four principles of living," Roger replies. "The first is to know yourself." "Yeah? I'm Trevor Gillespie, how d'ya do." The youth sniggers. "I don't mean that. You're also a teen, schoolboy, son, friend, and no doubt enemy. But that is what you are, not what your nature is. For example, is someone who kills a murderer?" "I guess." and "Sure," the boys respond. "But what if they only kill out of duty, such as soldiers or the police? Someone might kill an attacker in self-defence, or a thief when a robbery goes wrong. Or he might live in a tough neighbourhood where he believes that the only way to get by and survive is to join a gang, but they expect him to kill to prove himself. Killing is something these people do, but it doesn't necessarily mean that their nature is to be a murderer, even when the killing is illegal." "Well, yeah, but they're still murderers," Trevor objects. "The second principle is that once you know who you are, you should be true to yourself," Roger continues. Sam grins. "So if it's your nature to be a murderer, then it's OK to go around murdering people. Wicked." "That's right," Trevor agrees, "yer saying that murder's OK." "But I think that very few people have the nature of a murderer, it's just other influences that lead them to killing. If everyone were true to their nature, the number of killings would go way down." "But if yer are a murderer, you're allowed to kill?" Trevor asks. "Yes, it's difficult," Roger agrees. "But that would be the price of everyone being true to themselves. It's similar to the price of free speech being the freedom to be offensive. But that still doesn't mean that anyone should be allowed to murder. It's everyone's nature to want to live and society makes laws to protect its citizens. Sure, this leads to a conflict of interest, but you're always going to find peoples natures that oppose each other. Conflicting interests is happens all the time and civil society finds ways of managing this. Society will still have laws against murder and if someone kills anyway, they will have to face the consequences." "Dunno, it don't make much sense ta me," Trevor says. "So, what's the third principle?" "The third principle is to understand how the world affects you. This means to understand that we are an integral part of nature, but also to understand how we are manipulated in human society. This includes the effects of advertising, but also more direct personal manipulation. For example, what if some boy called you a motherfucker, or your mother a whore?" "I'd smash their fucken face in." Sam scowls, closes his hands into fists and makes a swing at the air. "Yes, but that's what he wants you to do," Roger responds. "He's manipulating you into a fight for his advantage, probably because he's tougher than you, or has got friends to help him." "Yeah, but yer don' have a choice, ya can't let him get away wit' sommat like that," Trevor objects. "If you know you're being manipulated, then you can decide how you are going to respond, and to do this to your advantage, not his. You might decide to act the way the other person wants, but there are usually other choices that are better." "Maybe. I could allas go an' get Sam and a coupla other guys an' trash him when he's not expecting it." "There you go," Roger agrees. "Not that I condone violence, you understand." " 'Cept it's OK if I beats yer up." Sam laughs as he lightly hits Roger's leg. "OK, so what's the fourth principle, then?" Trevor asks. "That's to understand how you can affect the world. Because we are part of nature, we can affect the environment and have a responsibility to the environment. But also it's to understand how your actions affect other people and the power this gives you over them." Trevor looks doubtful and shrugs. "Yeah, sure, but it's just words, innit?" "No, it's not," Roger relies. "Meditation shows you how to make it real." He pauses. "Would you like to try it and see what it can do for you?" Trevor shakes his head emphatically. "Nah, it's weird shit, it's too heavy fer me. Sorry, Sam, I know yer into it." Sam shrugs. "That's cool, diff'rent strokes fer diff'rent folks." He pauses, then bumps Roger's leg with his knee. "Guess it's time fer supper." "Yes, it is." As Sam shows no sign of moving, Roger continues. "I'll get supper if you like." Sam glances at Trevor and hesitates. "Nah, it's OK, I'll get it," he says as he gets to his feet. Sam returns with supper and everyone settles in with their hot drinks and biscuits. Trevor looks at his friend, sitting close to Roger on the sofa, and smirks. "Ta Sam, fer gettin' supper. You'll make someone a great wife some day." Sam scowls. "Whatever." Sam is embarrassed at Trevor seeing him in a state of domestic bliss with Roger, but he's also proud at his sense of belonging; Roger is now becoming an important part of his life. Sam is not used to keeping secrets from his best friend and doesn't want to start now. As his time with Roger teaches him about the value of openness and honesty in relationships, Sam starts to realise how important his friendship with Trevor is. As he starts to share his feelings and emotions more with his friend, so Trevor responds and their friendship develops into something deeper and more enduring. *************** Roger lies in bed, wondering if Sam is going to come to his room, or whether the teen's sleepover with Trevor means that Sam will be staying in his own bed. Roger senses the bedclothes being lifted and the boy slips into the bed behind him. Roger smiles in anticipation of the night to come and turns over to face his bed partner. "Oh! Hello Trevor, this is a surprise." Roger's voice raises in pitch at the sight of the grinning face beside him. "Why, who were you expecting?" Trevor asks with a giggle. "Not Sam by any chance?" "Well . . . um." "It's OK," Trevor reassures the man, "Sam's told me all about what youse guys bin up to, ya dirty dogs." "Oh." Roger feels awkward at being caught out in this way. Knowing the two youths is an unsettling experience as they are always doing something unexpected and getting him off balance. "Well, I suppose that's OK, then. But, why are you here? Not that I'm objecting you understand." Trevor's smile fades as he looks at Roger appraisingly. "Well, ya know, Sam goes on about how great sex is." The teen pauses and nervously licks his lips, that have suddenly gone dry. "So I thought, why should Sam be the only one to get his rocks off." A small, sly grin reappears on Trevor's face. "An' you being, ya know, gay, I reckon yer'd be up for it." Roger is taken aback. Once again the boys have surprised him. "Oh!" But then, he thinks, Trevor is a very sexy boy. "Oh? Does Sam know you're here?" "Yair." "And he's OK with this?" Trevor looks smug. "Shure. We are best friends an' we always share." "Oh, yes? So what does that make me, some sort of sex toy?" Trevor laughs. "Too right." Roger gives an exaggerated sigh. "Well, if that's what I am, I had better do my duty then." He sits up and pulls back the bedclothes, to reveal Trevor's smooth, boxer-clad body. His torso is pale, having seen very little sun, and slender, with no excess fat. His nipples are small and flat and his navel a small cave. Trevor looks alarmed. "Hey, what are you doing, man?" "I've got to get your undies off." Roger grasps the waistband of the teen's boxer and, in one quick movement, tugs them down his legs and over his feet. Trevor frantically grabs at his boxers, but he is too late. His hands clutch futilely at the air, then settle protectively over his groin. Roger sits on Trevor's legs, takes hold of the boy's hands and pulls them away, revealing the treasure underneath. Trevor's dick is an average size, not overlarge, for a boy his age, with a foreskin that just covers the end of his dickhead. His dick is surmounted by a sparse band of dark brown pubes, and rests on well-developed, loosely hanging balls. Trevor feels self-conscious and vulnerable about Roger's inspection. He realises that he has got himself into a situation where he's not in full control. "Don't do that Rog, it's poofy," he objects. "Well, what do you expect? We are going to have sex, aren't we?" "Yeah, but under the sheets, ya don't have to look at me." Roger smiles fondly as he looks at the handsome, sexy lad, spread-eagled on the bed. "Idiot boy." Trevor glances down and grimaces. "Eww, how gross. Yer gettin' hard." Roger looks down at his cock that has started to swell and harden, but is still angled down at Trevor, as if aiming at its target. His cockhead swells and darkens as it becomes engorged. "Of course I am," he replies. "You're a very sexy boy who turns me on." Trevor finds the sight of the man looming over him, with his hardening weapon pointed at him, somehow disturbing, as he's finally confronted with the reality and implications that he's about to have sex with a man. At the obvious sign of Roger's excitement, Trevor's cock instinctively begins to twitch and stir in response. And that is perhaps what Trevor finds most disturbing, that he finds the thought of sex with Roger exciting. Roger leans over to kiss the youth, but Trevor rolls his head away. "No man, I don't do that queer stuff." Roger is left looking at a smooth cheek that has not yet grown its first beard, so he kisses that instead. He kisses the boy's ear, then sticks his tongue inside. Trevor giggles in surprise at the unexpected sensation. "Don't be weird," he protests. Roger moves Trevor's arms above his head and kisses and licks the exposed, hairless, armpits. Trevor squirms. "Stop it, it tickles," he chuckles. Roger kisses the teen's nipples until they harden and Trevor gasps at their unexpected sensitivity. Roger holds Trevor's head between his hands as he looks down at the boy. "Don't even think about it," Trevor warns. He tries to look stern, but his eyes sparkle and a grin lurks on his lips. "So what else do I do?" "You know, . . . a blow job." Trevor flushes at the thought of experiencing what Sam had described. "Why should I, what's in it for me?" Roger asks. "Yer gay, yer likes to suck dick." "But you've got to do something for me. And that something is a kiss." "No way, that's just too queer," Trevor objects. "Well, that's too bad." Roger sits up. "You may as well go back to your own bed now." Trevor is frustrated. He has anticipated this night for days and Roger's attention is starting to get him excited. "Yeah, but, it's just that kissing a guy, . . . yuk. Oh, shit, Well let's get on with it, jus' don' expect me ta like it." Trevor looks resigned to his fate. "What an invitation," Roger scoffs, but it's all he needs to continue. Roger shifts so that his body covers the boy, but with his weight supported by his knees and elbows. The man kisses, licks and nibbles Trevor's firmly closed, resistant lips. The stimulation has its effect and, while the teen's mouth remains closed, his lips soften and plump up in spite of himself. Trevor's cock hardens and Roger can feel it like a hot iron bar pressed against his belly. Roger stops his kisses and sits up. Trevor sighs. He had never thought would accept such an intimacy from a man, but he discovers that it's not as bad as expected. 'Perhaps,' he thinks, 'it's because I like Roger, so I put up with shit from him.' "I think you need a little practice in your kissing skills," Roger says. Trevor grins. "Oh yeah? I s'pose that's from you, ya pervert." "Maybe." Roger bends over again and covers Trevor's belly with kisses and sticks his tongue in the boy's belly button. "No, it tickles," Trevor protests as his highly sensitive belly quivers under the assault. The youth giggles helplessly as he tries to writhe out of way. Roger gives Trevor one last raspberry on his belly and flips him onto his stomach. "Hey, what ya doing?" Trevor's voice is alarmed. "Yer ain't gonna fuck me, no way! I'm not gonna have yer prong up me." "No, I wont fuck you," Roger promises. Roger grasps the boy's hips and pulls them up until Trevor is on his elbows and knees, with bum sticking in the air and his bunghole exposed. Roger buries his face in the teen's crack. He sticks out his tongue and probes the muscle that guards Trevor's back passage. The boy's bumhole smells a bit rank and earthy, but this just makes Roger's cock throb a little more. Trevor chortles in surprise and embarrassment at his most private and intimate place being exposed and interfered with. His dick throbs. "This is gross, it's so sick. I didn't b'lieve Sam when he said you did this," he laughs. Roger comes up for air and rolls Trevor onto his back. The teen lies with his eyes half closed and face flushed red. His hard cock lies along his belly, with foreskin fully retracted and balls tight against his body. Trevor's arms are loosely rolled back; he is accepting of what would come next and impatient for his continued introduction to sex. Roger licks the boy's hairless balls, along the shaft of his cock and up over the head, flicking his tongue at the slit at the end. Trevor gurgles and says "Oh, . . . Rog. Get on with it, please." Roger engulfs the rigid rod until his nose is buried in pubes. The boy cock is just the right size to fit comfortably in his mouth. There is the funky animal taste of a teen boy who doesn't wash under his foreskin very often. Roger relishes the flavour of boy and the slightly sweaty smell from his bush and begins to suck vigorously. "Ooh, . . . er," Trevor groans. He frantically grabs hold of Roger's shoulders and, with the hair trigger response of a teenager, he comes. The man receives the thin, watery little squirts on his tongue, swirls it around his mouth and swallows. He lies alongside Trevor, with a quick kiss on the lips, and rests a hand on the youth's chest. "Rog, not the kissy stuff again," Trevor protests. Trevor smiles slowly and widely. He briefly grasps the man's hand on his chest and lets go again. "So, that's a blowjob! Outta this world," the boy announces. "It were so much better than wanking. Don' know how ya could swallow me spunk, though. That's disgusting." "Your juice is pure boy, nectar of the gods." "Oh yeah? Ya sound like a right idjit to me." Trevor hesitates. "Ah, . . . Roger?" "Yes?" "What I'd really like to try is fucking." "Oh?" "Can I fuck yer," Trevor wheedles, "please, oh please. I jus' gotta have a screw." "Do you now? What's in it for me?" Roger asks. "What?" "I haven't come yet and I still need to get off. I tell you what, I'll let you fuck me, but only if you blow me first." Trevor is indignant. "No way. I'll give you a nice wank if yer like." The teen grasps Roger's hard-on. Roger enjoys the feel of Trevor's warm hand wrapped around his cock, but he takes the boy's hand and pries it loose. "No thanks, I can do that myself any time." Trevor's frustration shows. "But I'll fuck yer. That's what gays want, ain't it?" Roger shrugs. "Maybe, but if I can't fuck you, why should I let you fuck me?" "But it's not fair," the teen moans. "I need it so bad, yer gotta let me." "It's suck or be fucked." Roger is adamant. Trevor shudders. He looks at the offending weapon as it juts into the air and sighs. 'It's just a lump of flesh', he tells himself, 'no different from sucking a finger, or kissing.' Trevor considers the kisses Roger had given him. 'If I could put with that, maybe . . . .' "You ain't going to come in me mouth," Trevor warns. "There's no way I'm gonna swallow yor spunk." Roger promises to warn Trevor when he's about to come. The boy bends over the large man cock and lifts it up and away from Roger's belly. He hesitates, then opens his mouth and pops it inside. Trevor closes his mouth over the head and only a little of the shaft, which be considers is quite enough. Then, copying what Roger had done to him only a few minutes earlier, he begins to suck. Roger shudders at the rasp of the boy's tongue over his sensitive cock head. He looks down at the head busy in his groin, and caresses Trevor's shoulders and hair. As the sensations build up in Roger's erection, he knows he can't last much longer. He waits until the last moment, then gasps "Aah, Trevor, I'm . . ." Trevor hurriedly pulls back from Roger's cock, but the man holds the teen's head and keeps his cock firmly pressed against Trevor's face. He spurts powerfully and coats Trevor's closed mouth and lips. Cum drips down the boy's chin. Trevor is shocked. "Yeech, that's disgusting, what did ya do that for?" he complains. "I said not in me mouth, I din't mean it was OK to spunk all over me face." "Sorry," Roger apologises insincerely. He brings his face to the boy's and licks it clean. Trevor squirms in protest, then begins to giggle. "Yer sick" he scolds with a grin, when Roger has finished. Trevor found the whole business to be mucky, and yet, somehow an enormous turn on. Trevor discovers that sex is hot and that it truly doesn't matter it's with a bloke. He finds that his dick at full mast once again and ready for action. "Now it's yor turn," he says. "I'm gonna fuck yer so hard you wont be able to sit down for a week. That'll teach ya for splooging all over me face." "I look forward to it," Roger replies with a smile. He takes a jar of lubricant from the bedside draw and greases Trevor's cock, which bobs and jerks under his touch. Roger places a pillow in the middle of the bed and lies face down, with the pillow under his crotch. He parts his legs in invitation. Trevor clambers over Rogers legs and kneels between them. Roger feels the youth's knees pressed against his inner thighs, then as Trevor lowers himself on his hands, the boy's cock slide between his butt cheeks. Trevor jabs forward urgently, but completely misses his target and his stiffie gets jammed in the man's crack. "Ow," he winces. "Take it slowly," Roger advises. "Make sure your cock is positioned against my entrance, then press steadily." "Okey dokey. Um, how does I find yer arsehole? I can't see nothink." "Use your hand." "Stick me hand up yer arse? Gross," Trevor mutters, but he complies readily enough. Roger feels a hand wiggle it's way between his cheeks and probe for his hole. Then, cock in position, Trevor pushes forward. Roger feels a steady pressure, then his muscles relax and he lets the boy inside. The muscles of Roger's arsehole feel stretched, but not painfully. 'A boy's cock is just large enough to stretch an arsehole just enough, but not too much,' Roger thinks. He feels Trevor's groin pressing against his bum and the lad lies flat on his back with a sigh. "How's that, boyo?" "Fucken marvellous." Trevor giggles. "Lit'rally." Trevor body is a warm solid weight on Roger's back that is a pleasure to bear. Trevor begins to thrust, stimulating the nerve endings of stretched arsehole and sending waves of pleasure to his brain. The boy pants warm gusts of air on Roger's shoulder. "Oh, . . . aah." Trevor begins to moan and thrust harder and faster. As he reaches a crescendo he frantically plants kisses on Roger's neck and collapses. The teen rests his head and a thin line of drool pools on the man's back. Roger lets Trevor recover for a few minutes before speaking. "Are you sure you're quite finished up there? I'm getting rather crushed down here, in fact completely buggered." Trevor chuckles weakly and rolls off the man. Roger turns on his side to face the boy and gently runs his hand down Trevor's side and onto his hip. Trevor lies with his eyes closed and a dreamy smile on his face. Roger kisses him on the lips. "Quit it, why doncha," Trevor complains sleepily. "I said you could kiss me once, not whenever yer likes." "I don't think we actually agreed on that, but this is just one interrupted kiss that will last as long as you are a sexy, hot boy." "Not if I have anything to do with it, mate." Trevor smirks, but allows himself to be gathered into Roger's arms as he falls asleep. ******* Roger slowly wakes, to find the teen spooned against his front, with his arm draped over the sleeping boy's body. Without opening his eyes, Roger lazily caresses the lad's well-muscled chest and firm belly, finally reaching his target. He cups the package and plays with the cute boy dick. Roger pulls back the foreskin a couple of times and gently strokes the dick. The inevitable happens, even for a sleeping teen, and the boy's cock swells and hardens. Roger grasps it firmly. 'Odd,' he thinks idly, 'I seemed to remember it being somewhat smaller last night.' He checks it's length and girth. 'Very odd.' Roger opens his eyes and raises his head, to find that the sleeping boy is Sam. Roger smiles. While the sex with Trevor was nice enough, Sam is still his special boy. Roger is pleased that Sam appears to be OK with what happened last night, and that the teen has reclaimed his rightful place with Roger. Roger kisses Sam on the cheek and gets up for a piss and to start the day. ***************** Roger is sitting at the table when the two youths pad down the stairs, both clad in boxers and T-shirts. Sam and Trevor are wide eyed and laughing. "Good morning, boys," Roger greets them. "Hiya stud," Trevor says with a snigger. "So did ya get up to anything last night, huh?" Sam asks. "Ya mean, did anything get up him?" Trevor smirks. Roger shakes his head with a rueful smile and gets up to prepare breakfast for the two boys. Roger has a second cup of coffee to keep Sam and Trevor company as they start their breakfast, though with the mood they are in he wonders if it is a good idea. Sam leans over and peers into Roger's cup. "Yer got milk in yer coffee. Din't ya get enough milk last night?" he asks archly. "Yeah, if ya can't find a cow to get some milk, yer can always get a bull." Trevor guffaws. "Don't think too highly of yourself, boy," Roger replies. "You are more of a gangly-legged calf than a bull." "I'm bull enough to plough yer furrow," Trevor retorts. "Don't worry, boyo, your turn will come soon enough." "Unh, huh," Trevor makes a sound of disagreement. "So, Rog, what sort of milk does ya like best? Full cream," Sam looks down at his own lap, "or low fat?" He glances scornfully at Trevor and bursts into loud laughter. Roger smiles and shakes his head at the two troublesome teens. Sam grins back at him. He reaches under the table to squeeze Roger's thigh, then gives it a gentle pat before continuing with his breakfast. . o O 0 O o . End of Part 5 To be continued . . .