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The Emancipation of Oscar Lewis.

By John Teller.

Part 5.

Oscar Lewis.

Daniel Philips out of year five with his light brown hair and sexy brown eyes gets on the bus about a mile before we arrive at school. Most of the kids get on well with Daniel, and he high fives a few before he gets to his regular seat three rows in front of me and across the aisle. He throws his school bag up into the rack, looks at me, grins, and I return it with a sort of a shy grin. Then he sits down next to his pal. The bus hasn't gone far before he turns and looks back along the bus. I think he's not interested in me, but then he does look at me, and again I get that knowing grin. My insides are doing somersaults because he's looked at me, and I know I'm falling for him big time.

He's hardly been out of my mind since we started back after the holidays. Even when I'm with Jezza, I keep remembering his face and his lovely grin, and I've fantasized that it was him fucking me and not Jezza. When Jezza left me half an hour before I had to leave home to catch the bus, I was thinking about Daniel, and when I fastened Jack on his lead by his kennel, I was thinking that it wouldn't be long before I would be seeing him again. I almost forgot to lock the door because I was thinking about him, and that had been the last thing Jezza told me to do. That was after we'd hugged and he'd given me a kiss.

I didn't mind the kiss. It wasn't a sexy one. In fact we didn't even talk about sex this morning apart from Jezza asking me if I was sore. I'd been to the toilet and had a crap, and it wasn't then, so I told him I was fine. He said it would be the Vaseline that kept me from getting sore. Another reason why we didn't bother about sex was because we were late getting up. My alarm went off, but I was so comfortable cuddled up with Jezza that we both dozed off again. Then Jezza's alarm went off on his wristwatch and we both had to dive out of bed and get ready. Jezza said he would go before me so that my mates didn't see us together. That would save my street cred, he said. I laughed at that. But he's right. I don't want my mates seeing me with him. So we grabbed some cereal, and then he left, saying he'd see me when he finished work, and that I was to take the bloody dog for a walk and get dinner ready for when he arrived. I gave him the two fingers for that, and he laughed. Then he was gone, so I spent half an hour getting ready and taking the dog and thinking about things.

Last night had been fantastic sex, and I'm already looking forward to tonight so we can do it all again. And I'm thinking about sex when I look at Daniel.

He really is a big lad for his age; probably about six foot tall, and he's built like a brick shithouse, as dad would say. I've seen him playing football, and there isn't an ounce of fat on him. He's all muscle with really powerful legs. That's why, when he kicks the ball properly, no goalie can save it. That's why he scores so many goals. Look at him now. His mate, Alan Dale, is no slouch, but Daniel is taking up more than half the double seat. He's not a snazzy dresser. I noticed that his school tie wasn't straight when he got on the bus, and I can see that his shoes haven't been polished. I do mine myself every night as soon as I get home from school, and polish them until I can almost see my face in them. Mum irons my trousers and shirts and makes sure the trousers have a crease than can almost cut your fingers. I could never go to school dressed like Daniel. If we do get to be friends, the first thing I'll do is tell him to smarten himself up. The scruffy sod! I don't want a boyfriend who's scruffy.

I don't realize I've been smiling at my thoughts until my pal, John Devine, asks me, "What are you grinning at?"

I shake my head, ignore him, and go back to watching Daniel, and I'm still looking at him when the bus pulls up outside the school. It becomes a melee then; everybody trying to get off first. I've been planning this ever since I got on the bus, and because my school bag is by my feet, even before the bus stops, I'm up and going down the aisle. I time it perfectly, because just as I'm behind Daniel's seat, he gets up and blocks my way. I'm right next to him. He reaches up and takes his bag out of the rack, and when he swings it down, I have to push back to stop it hitting me. He grins at me, and says, "Sorry... Oscar Lewis."

I grin back at him. "S'okay, Daniel Philips."

Then, just for a fraction of second he stares right into my eyes, and I stare back into his. When he turns to go down the aisle, my heart is pounding with nervous joy. It was that pause when he said my name that's making me like I am. It was the way he said it... very deliberately, as if he was saying it to tell me that he knows all about me. Anybody else would have called me Ozzie or Oscar, but he said Oscar Lewis. But I got my own back when I said his complete name, too. I wonder if he noticed that I had?

I try to stay behind him as we go down the aisle, but a couple of older boys barge in front of me, and Daniel is a few yards away from me when I get off. I want to go after him, but it wouldn't look right, so I wait for my pal John to join me. Then we join the other eight hundred milling pupils – boys and girls -  going up the school drive.

**********

During the morning I get told off a few times for not concentrating, so I have to buck up my ideas so I don't get an after-school detention. But I can't help it... mum and dad and Jezza and Daniel are filling my thoughts. Eventually I'm so mixed up that my maths teacher, Mr Borthwick, calls me to his desk at the front. He's not a bad sort, and when I get to him, he asks, "What's the problem, Oscar? You're not normally like this."

I shrug my shoulders. "My dad's gone into hospital, Sir, and he's having an operation tomorrow."

He puts a hand on my shoulder. "Ahhh... I see. I knew there was something wrong with you. Just go back to your seat and relax. I won't get onto you again." He looks at his watch. "It will be lunchtime in fifteen minutes. I'll have a word in the staff room with the other teachers and let them know. Don't worry, son. I'm sure he'll be alright. Is it a major operation he's having?"

I nod. "Sort of Sir. He was kicked in the face by a horse, and they're mending his cheekbones this time. They've got to break them and reset them."

Mr Borthwick pulls his head back and stares at me. "And you want to be a blacksmith! Sounds as if it can be a dangerous job." Then he smiles and winks at me. "If you're as careful with your work as you are with your dress, then you'll be fine. Now go back to your place and relax."

I nod. "Thank you Sir." And when I get back to my seat, I'm really pleased. Not only won't I get into trouble, but people do actually notice that I keep myself smart. Jezza told me that one of the first things that alerted me to him was the way I dressed. When we were talking in bed, he made me laugh when he said that my polished shoes gave him a hard on. Maybe they'll do the same to Daniel Philips out of year five.

**********

As soon as we've eaten school dinners, the first thing most of us do is go and have a piss in the bogs before we play whatever games we want... usually football or cricket with a soft ball. When me and my pal John get there, the place is heaving, and we have to stand in a crowd until we can find a place at the knee-high, stainless steel urinal that stretches the length of the wall. A few of the lads who're shy wait by the cubicles, and piss in there, but I've never been shy to flop my cock out and piss between two other boys. In fact we have fun seeing who can piss the hardest, and even have a laugh when the piss splatters and wets our shoes. I spy a chance to get a space, dodge into it, flop my cock out, and begin to pee. I'm about halfway through it when the boy to my right finishes pissing, turns to leave, and immediately another lad takes his place. I don't look to see who it is, but through my peripheral vision I can see that it's a bigger lad.

I'm not a cock-watcher as such, but occasionally when a bigger lad is next to me, I have a look at his cock. I'm not ashamed of mine, and I'm just holding it at the base with two fingers, and because it's partly hard because I desperately need a piss, I waddle it about in front of me, making patterns in the stream of piss that's running to the drain on my left. I wouldn't normally bother with the big lad's cock, but I can't help noticing that it's circumcised, something very unusual with kids in England. And then it starts to piss, making similar patterns to the ones I'm making, and I can't help noticing that on each cross stroke, his piss is getting ever nearer to where I'm standing. Then he actually pisses on my space. At that point I look up to see who it is.

"Don't worry, I won't piss on you Oscar," says Daniel Philips out of year five, with a big grin on his face.

I just don't know where to put myself, and I'm sure my face is like beetroot when I blurt out, "Ittsssss you!"

He giggles. "Who's you?"

If there was a deep hole, I'd jump into it, but I can't. Instead, I mutter, "You... Daniel Philips!"

He laughs. "That's me. And that's a fine piece of equipment you've got there!"

I've stopped pissing, so I hurriedly tuck it back into my pants and zip up. Then I grin at him, and say, "I could say the same about yours."

Before he can reply, I'm off out of there as fast as my legs will carry me, and I'm still grinning when I get outside. I look for my pal John, but he's either gone off to play with our mates, or he's not come out yet. I hesitate whether to go and look for him, or wait, and I'm still standing just outside the bogs when Daniel comes out. He comes directly to me with a grin on his face, and asks "Are you waiting for me, Oscar?"

I giggle. "No, I'm waiting for my mate John."

Daniel shrugs his shoulders. "That's a pity. I thought you were waiting for me."

I give him a sly look. "Why would I be waiting for you?"

He grins. "You know why. I'm playing football on Saturday. Why don't you come and watch us?"

"I can't. My dad's in hospital in Birmingham, and I'm going to see him on Saturday."

"Is he ill?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Sort of."

"Sort of?"

I look up into his eyes. Other lads have laughed when I've told them that dad had his face kicked in by a horse, and the last thing I want is for Daniel to laugh at my dad, so I stare defiantly at him, and say, "A horse kicked him and smashed his face and almost blinded him in one eye a while back. He's gone in for reconstruction surgery."

Daniel puts his hand on my shoulder, and the look he gives me is one of genuine concern. "I'm sorry about that, Oscar. Is he going to be alright?"

I shrug my shoulders. "He is alright. It's just his face that's damaged."

He nods. "I understand. You live at Regent Magna, don't you?"

"Yes."

He smiles. "I live at Blessington Magna. Maybe we can meet some time?"

"What for?"

"Because I like you, and I'd like to meet you out of school. What about you?"

My heart is racing like mad. I've wanted this ever since we started back after the holidays, but now it's happened, I'm scared to death. And that's why I just shrug my shoulders, and mumble, "Dunno."

Daniel's face is really serious as he catches my eye. "Sorry. Maybe I've got hold of the wrong end of the stick. I thought that's what you wanted. I know I do, but if you don't, then I'm sorry I bothered you."

My mind is in overdrive trying to work things out, so I say, "Things are all a mess at the moment."

"In what way?"

"Lots of things. My dad and other things. It's all a mess."

Daniel smiles. "That's okay, Oscar, and I really don't want to add to your problems. So just tell me if you'd like to see me when you've sorted things. It's up to you."

I look up at him, and decide that I don't want to miss this chance. It's what I've wanted since we started back after the hols, so it would be stupid not to take it now. "Yes, you know I do, but I don't want people to know."

He waves his hand at the school. "These you mean?"

I nod. "And others at home and that sort of stuff."

He nods back at me. "I understand. It doesn't bother me, but you're not me. I promise I wouldn't tell a soul. And just so you know I'm not bullshitting you, all I think about these days is you. But nobody else knows. I've kept it to myself because I thought you might not want to be associated with a queer like me."

I glare at him. "I don't care what you are! It's not you being that way that bothers me! I... I just couldn't face this lot... or them if they knew I was the same!"

Daniel has a concerned look on his face when he says, "Stop! Now! I understand! I'm not stupid! If I wasn't big enough not to be bullied, do you think I would be like I am? Oscar, you'll be absolutely safe with me. I promise. In fact I'm going to leave you now so nobody thinks you've been talking to me for too long. If you ever want to see me, just let me know. Okay?"

I stare into his face, and blurt out, "Sunday. I can meet you Sunday."

"Where?"

"I can bike over."

"Good. But only if it's not pissing down. Meet me on Blessington Rec at eleven? I'll be on my own kicking a ball about. I'll have my bike. We'll go for a ride. If it is pissing down, don't come, and we'll meet another day. Okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

And he's gone, walking across the yard to where the other lads are playing football. And I'm left wondering how the hell I got myself into this wonderful mess, and how the hell I'm going to work things with Jezza so I don't have to spend all day with him. I'm going to have to lie to him, but having a date with Daniel Philips out of year five will be worth it. I can't wait to get hold of that beautiful cock and suck on it, and it isn't too big to fit up my bum now Jezza has shown me how to do it.

**********

It's a good Job Mr Borthwick has had a word with the other teachers, because I can't for the life of me concentrate on my schoolwork. And it's not dad being in hospital or Jezza that's mainly on my mind; I'm in cloud-nine because I've got a date with Daniel Philips out of year five and he knows I'm gay like he is. After all my worrying, it was easy in the end. Daniel made it easy, and that's because he doesn't give a shit that he's gay. But he was smashing about me not wanting anybody to know about me. During the afternoon break, he never even looked at me, and I'm wondering what he'll do when we catch the bus in another fifteen minutes when classes end.

When the school bell rings and we all pack up, I'm one of the first out of the door. All the school buses are waiting; lined up in the road waiting for us to get on. Me and John are amongst the first to arrive, and the bus is almost empty when we take our seats. Daniel arrives about a minute before the bus leaves, and he doesn't look at me when he takes his seat. But I look at him as he chats to the lad next to him. He laughs a lot, and is sort of animated; making lots of gestures with his hands while he's talking. He's got quite a deep voice, which is in keeping with his stature. When we're getting towards where he gets off at Blessington Magna, he gets out of his seat and gets his schoolbag from the rack above. Still he doesn't look at me. Two other lads get off where he gets off, and as the bus pulls away, only then does he look at where I'm sitting. I want to wave at him, but I don't. And neither does he. But I don't miss his look directly at me before the bus has passed, and I spend the rest of the journey thinking about him.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Jeremy Foster.

Because we had a meeting after work, and because I decided to shower in the caravan before going to the Lewis home, it's almost six-thirty when I arrive. This time I don't knock on the door, but walk right in. Immediately, Jack rushes to me, barking like mad, so I go down and fondle his ears. Then I go into the lounge where I can hear the TV. Oscar is on the sofa in his dressing gown, his legs tucked under him. He grins at me. "You're late."

I grin back at him. "I had to attend a meeting. Sorry. Then I decided to have a shower in the van. Have you eaten?"

Oscar shakes his head. "No. I had a sandwich when I got in, but I'm hungry now."

I go to the sofa and sit down, feeling at the part-naked legs beside me. He leans against the end of the sofa, turns onto his back, stretches his partly open legs across my lap, and it isn't long before I've traversed their length and my fingers are fondling his balls and erection. Then he undoes the dressing gown and pulls it wide open, displaying his nakedness and his magnificent body, inviting me to take him. So I do... leaning down and taking his dick into my mouth to suck him off. With both his hands on the back of my head and his hips heaving from the sofa, he climaxes in my throat, depositing a decent amount of his boy juice on the roof of my mouth, and I devour it eagerly. When the passions have receded, I kiss his balls, and sit up. He's smiling at me when I say, "That was a nice starters. What are we having for afters?"

"Pizza. Pepperoni pizza. Do you like it?"

I grin at him. "It will go well with what I've just had."

He giggles, and gets up. "I'll put it in the oven. It will only take fifteen minutes."

I wink at him. "Shame. Not much time for anything else then."

He laughs, and then calls from the kitchen, "I had a good bath when I got home if you fancy a bit of bum."

I call back, "Put some garlic on it. It will go well with pepperoni if it isn't too sore."

I hear him giggling, and when he's put the pizza in the oven, he comes back with a big grin on his face. Instead of sitting on the sofa, he pushes my hands apart and sits facing me in my lap. I wrap both arms around him and kiss his hair, which is still slightly damp, and smells of shampoo. Then he lifts his head and softly kisses my lips. "It's not sore. It must be the Vaseline."

"I told you it would do you good. You should put some more on."

He grins. "I already have. Loads of it." Then he brushes my hair back with one hand, and asks, "Have you been thinking about me today?"

I nod. "Uhuh."

He continues stroking my hair. "What were you thinking about?"

I put my hand under the dressing gown and stroke the top of his thighs. "These... and the delicious rest of you."

"Any parts in particular?"

I reach up and grab his dick and balls. "These... and that thing sitting in my lap that's making me hard right now."

"You mean my bum?"

"Uhuh."

He takes a quick, naughty look into my eyes, and asks, "What were you doing to it?"

"Making love to it."

"How?"

"Kissing it."

"And?"

I squeeze his balls and dick, which is now getting hard again. "Fucking it."

He giggles. "How far in were you?"

"As far as last night."

With wide eyes, he stares into my eyes. "That far! That must have been nice!"

I chuckle. "It was. I'll do it again one day."

He looks puzzled. "Not tonight?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I thought you'd be too sore."

He grins. "We'll see. Do you want a beer with your pizza?"

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

Yes, Daniel... that it! Just in and out. Don't overdo it! That's it! Let it slide in and out slowly... it doesn't hurt that way. That's it. Yes! Rub your rough pubes against my bum like that when you're right in! I know I'm taking all of you then. I'm your special boy, Daniel, the boy you've fallen in love with. And I love you Daniel. I really do. That's why I'm here. I've wanted that big cock of yours in me ever since I saw it in the toilets. It's a beauty! I love the fact that you've got no skin on your knob. I can suck it far easier than Jezza's, and I can lick it all the way up without any skin getting in the way. Oh God! I love your cock, Daniel, especially now when I know my bum is giving you so much pleasure. You'll love me even more when I've shown you what I can do. I'm your special lover, Daniel, your fuckboy. That's it! You're cumming now Daniel. I can tell. Oh yes! That's it! Ram it in me! Ram it in me! Yesssssss! Oh, God! I can feel your hot spunk filling me up Daniel. That's it! Fill me up Daniel! Fuck me! Fuck me!

**********

"Are you sore?" Jezza asks.

"No. The Vaseline has done its job."

"Are you sure?"

I look up into Jezza's face. "Of course I'm sure! Was it nice for you?"

"Uhuh. Fantastic. You learn quickly. You've only done it three times since we came to bed. Do you want some more?"

I sigh, and cuddle into Jezza. "No. I just wanted you to feel extra nice before we go to sleep. I'll have a rinse out in a minute, and then we'll go to sleep."

**********

I can tell Jezza's asleep because the grip on my cock and balls has relaxed and his hand has slipped off. I think I'd be asleep myself if I wasn't so excited about meeting Daniel on Sunday. What will we do? Will he want sex on our first date? I hope so. I wonder how experienced he is? Will he know what to do? If he doesn't, I'll pretend that I don't know, but I'll sort of guide him what to do. Suppose he wants to fuck me? Will he bring some Vaseline, or will I have to take some? I can sneak some out of the large jar Jezza has. I can put it in that small lip balm tin that's nearly empty. But will he think I'm a slut if I come prepared? No, I'd better not take anything, and if he wants to fuck me, I'll tell him that it won't go up me unless he's got some Vaseline. I'm going to have to let him take the lead. It won't seem right if I'm into his pants right away. I'll let him feel me up and get my cock out. Then I'll get his out. We can go from there then. If he does want sex on Sunday, then we can wank each other, and maybe suck each other off. That will do, and then I can be his fuckboy the next time if I sort of hint that I want him to do it. I'll lie on my back and let him do it that way. That way we can kiss properly. It's strange... I don't really want to kiss Jezza unless I'm really worked up, but I think the first thing I want Daniel to do is kiss me. That will be special... especially our first kiss. I can't wait for him to wrap me in his strong arms and kiss me. It's making me shudder thinking about it.

But does he love me like I love him, or does he just want me for sex? Suppose he just wants me for Sex? What will I do then? I'm not sure. Oh, God! I hope he does love me! Please Daniel... love me please!

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Jeremy Foster.

My mobile rings just as I'm about to take a level at a datum point, so I hold up a hand to tell the lad holding the survey staff to wait a moment while I answer the call. It's showing Michelle as the caller. "Hi Michelle. How are you?"

"Hi Jezza. Fed up!"

"Why?"

"They've cancelled the operation. They've had a road accident just come in and the surgeons are dealing with that."

"So what happens now?"

"We're getting ready to come home. We'll be home about four. I just thought I'd ring you to let you know what's happening. I'll ring the school next so that Oscar knows." She chuckles. "He'll expect his dinner on the table now."

"My things are still in your room. I'll nip off work in a minute or two and make things tidy for you."

"But you'll have dinner with us tonight?"

"Dinner! You mean tea, or have you gone all posh?"

She laughs. "Tea then. You'll come for tea?"

"Okay. Will six be alright? It will be that time before I'm showered and with you."

"Tea at six then. I'll give Hungry Wolf a sandwich to tide him over."

**********

How can you make a bed seem as if it's been slept in for two nights when it hasn't? I know... I'll strip the sheets off and put them in the washer, make the dressing table untidy, move things around a bit, and it will look as if I've slept in here. Then I'll need to make sure there's no trace of me in Oscar's room.

I'm melancholy when I go into his room and look at the bed we've shared. It isn't just the sex we've had in it that's making me sad. Having his beautiful, small, warm body in my arms when I went to sleep is something I'll always treasure; the smell of his shampoo under my nose; the sound of his gentle breathing; the presence of a beautiful boy who has stirred my emotions like no other. I'm in love with him, but last night I sensed a change in him. Yes, he was just as sexy – perhaps more than usual – but there was something missing... a certain innocence had left him, and the kisses we shared were less passionate. It's been on my mind all day. I've had enough boys to know when something is bothering them, and something was bothering Oscar last night. I reckon it's one of two or three things: he's regretting our association now it's developed; he feels guilty doing what we do in his parents' home, or his affections are elsewhere.

Has our association given him the courage to approach Peter Childs in year six? It's possible. I'm under no illusions that Oscar is not attached to me emotionally. He's a highly sexed, if not oversexed boy, and I've been the vehicle he's used to advance his technical ability. He's enjoyed it. Of course he's enjoyed it! For the first time in his life he's experienced gay sex. He's good... very good! I've certainly never known a boy adapt so quickly to the experience. It's been he who has forced the anal sex agenda, needing to know what it's like to have a dick inside him. I don't think he particularly likes the experience, but he knows that if he falls for someone emotionally who wants to do that to him, he'll now be equipped to give them what they want in exchange for the emotional attachment. He's a clever boy is my Oscar, and I'll just have to wait and see what develops.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

"We've had a telephone call from the hospital, Oscar," says Mr Borthwick after he's summoned me to his desk. "Because they've had an emergency, your father's operation has had to be postponed to a later date, so he and your mum are coming home today. Your mum called the school and asked us to let you know that they'll be home by four o' clock this afternoon."

I'm shocked. "Oh... right Sir. Thank you for telling me."

"You don't seem very happy, Oscar?"

"Oh... it's not that Sir. I'm just surprised. Dad won't be pleased. He's been waiting ages for this op."

Mr Borthwick shrugs his shoulders. "These things happen. Emergencies always take priority over routine operations. My father had the same thing. He was in for surgery, and they cancelled his just thirty minutes before he was due in theatre." He smiles. "I remember him coming home really grumpy after they did it."

I nod, and smile back. "Dad will be down the pub tonight."

Mr Borthwick laughs. "I don't blame him. Now back to your desk, young man."  

**********

My mind is working overtime. The thing I'm worried most about is if they get home, find that their room hasn't been slept in, and discover some of Jezza's things in my room. I know for a fact that his overnight bag is in there with the Vaseline in it. Shit! But surely mum would have rung Jezza as well as the school? He's got a key, so if she has rung him, then he'll know to go and sort things out. He's not daft. That's the first thing he'll do. Yes... that's what will happen. It's past lunchtime now, so I'll have no opportunity to ring Jezza on his mobile unless I can borrow one of the other lad's mobiles. I've got his number in my bag. It will be afternoon break in about twenty minutes. Who can I ask who might have a mobile phone?

**********

He's there with his pals. Will he have one?

Daniel Philips out of year five sees me approaching, and grins. "What can I do for you, Squirt?"

"Have you got a mobile phone I can borrow for a minute?"

"We're not supposed to use them in the school yard."

I glare at him. "I know that. But I need to make an urgent call. Have you got one or not?"

Daniel stares directly into my eyes, and he says, "Yes. Go behind the bogs and use it. If you get caught, tell them I've asked you to make a call for me. That way I'll get in trouble for using you."

**********

Jezza answers almost immediately. He doesn't recognize the number, so it's only when I speak that he knows who it is. I'm utterly relieved when he tells me that mum has rung him and that he's already sorted the rooms at home. Then he tells me that he's coming to tea at six. There's no mention of sex, and I'm pleased about that. I break the call by telling him I'll see him at teatime.

**********

Daniel grins at me when I hand him the phone and thank him. He doesn't ask what the emergency was either, which I like. Because we're standing slightly apart from his pals, he winks at me, and says, "You'd better go. You don't want to be seen associating with me."

"Are you playing at home or away tomorrow?"

"At home. Here. Kick off at ten in the morning. Why?"

I grin. "I'll try to be here. Things have changed at home. My dad's coming home today. They've cancelled the operation. Will that be alright?"

He grins back. "Super! Watch the game, and then go and wait at the bus stop. I'll meet you there. What time will you have to be home?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Dunno. What time do you want me to go home?"

I can see him thinking, and then he replies, "I'll sort out something for us to eat, and then you can catch the five o'clock bus home?"

I nod. "I'll try to sort it. See you tomorrow."

Again he winks at me. "You'd better now you've got my hopes up!"

I laugh, and turn away.

**********

We're all sitting down, eating tea... steak egg and chips that mum has cooked. It's all gone great since I got home. Jezza has really sorted things. He explains that he popped in to change the bed linen on mum's and dad's bed, and says he threw my stuff in the washer at the same time because it probably stunk. I pull a face at him  when I tell him that I don't stink, but I'm also aware that he might be right if any of his spunk stains were on my bed linen. Dad seems to have got over his disappointment of the op being cancelled, and suggests he and Jezza go for a pint after tea. That's when I seize my opportunity. I was wondering how I was going to do it, but now is my chance. I look at dad, and ask, "I hope you don't mind, dad, but the school football team are playing an important cup game in the morning. I wasn't going to go because you were in hospital, but when Mr Borthwick told me you were coming home, I arranged to meet John Devine there in the morning. Is that alright?"

Dad nods. "Of course it is. Who are they playing?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it's the quarter finals. The teachers asked that as many of us as possible are there. John said I could go to his house for dinner after. Is that alright?"

"Yes. What time will you be home?"

"About half past five. Just in time for tea."

Dad laughs. "It's all you ever think about... filling that belly of yours!"

I giggle. "I'm a growing lad."

I don't miss the secret grin on Jezza's face when I say that, and it takes me all my time not to start giggling. Until I had news that dad was coming home, I'd been wondering what sort of sex we'd be having tonight, but that's now all gone to pot. Because Jezza and dad are going to the pub, I know it'll be very late when dad gets home, so that means there'll be no sex tonight. I'll be fast asleep in bed when he comes home in the early hours. And because I'm going to see Daniel in the morning and will be out for most of the day, I might not see Jezza at all tomorrow. What will he think about that? It's Saturday tomorrow, and dad always goes to the pub on Saturday night, and Jezza will probably go too. So that means tomorrow night is out of the question. It all depends on what happens tomorrow whether or not I get to see Jezza on Sunday. If me and Daniel have still got that Sunday date, then it will be difficult to see Jezza unless maybe I can sneak down to his place on Sunday night. I'll have to telephone him from the village phone box and try and sort things. I hope he's not mad at me for not seeing him. But it can't be helped.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Jeremy Foster.

The weather is changing. The cold snap has gone and it's becoming warmer, but there's low pressure approaching, and with it will come the rain tomorrow. Although I'm thinking that when I look up and can't see the stars as I'm walking back to the caravan, I have other, far more important things on my mind. For one, it didn't take Oscar long to make plans for Saturday. I thought that with his mum and dad coming home, he'd try and get to see me during the day on Saturday, but he soon made other plans. Why shouldn't he though? Although he's an oversexed little sod, he's still a schoolboy who wants to do schoolboy things. So he's going to watch a football game. What could be more normal than that?

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

My bus was late, so the game has kicked off when I arrive at the school football pitch. I look down at the white Nike trainers I'm wearing with my blue jeans. Because it's been raining throughout the night, they're sinking into the damp grass, and I know that by the time the game is over, my feet will be wet. Stupid sod! I should have brought a pair of wellingtons! I didn't because I'm dressed for a date, and nobody goes on a date wearing wellingtons! Shit! But apart from the wellies, everything else is alright. The dark blue hoody I'm wearing is showerproof, so that will keep my white woolen jumper and white t-shirt dry. That's what I've done: gone blue and white today. My new socks are white, and so is the new pair of y-front underpants I've got on. If Daniel wants to get in my pants, then I know they'll be spotless. I showered and put plenty of Brut for Men on so I'd be clean and smell nice for him. So, apart from the bloody wet trainers, I'm dressed to kill.

During the rest of the first half, Daniel only looks at me once, and that's a sort of half-hidden smile to acknowledge that he's seen me. He's a fantastic player, and scores a great goal to equalize the one that the opposition scored before I arrived (one of the other boys there told me that they had), and at half time we're drawing: 1-1. Along with most of the other spectators, I stand back while the coach gathers the team together and gives them their instructions. Daniel does look at me then, over the top of the bottle when he's taking a drink. I give him a hidden smile, and he gives me one back. Then I study him.

Because it's raining, his football top and shorts are soaked, and they're clinging to him, and his hair is flattened and hanging over his forehead. But it's not his hair I'm particularly interested in... it's his strong legs and thighs and fantastic bum. Particularly his bum! His wet shorts leave little to the imagination, and I've got a hard on just imagining holding onto it while he's fucking me so I can give him so much pleasure that he'll love me even more. But I don't need imagination to know what his cock is like. I know exactly what the swelling at the front of his shorts looks like. I saw it when he was taking a piss next to me. He'll want me even more when I show him how I can suck cock... if I get the chance that is. But it isn't just sex I want with Daniel; more than anything I want to be wrapped in his strong arms and be loved by him; kissed by him while he tells me how much he loves me. That's what I want, and as I look at his fantastic body, I get the shivers just thinking about it.

The second half kicks off, and the game becomes a real battle. The other team is good, and we spend a lot of time defending. Although most of our team players are older than Daniel, he isn't quiet when he shouts orders at them sometimes. Considering he's gay, I find it amazing that they don't argue with him. But then again, he is a good fighter, and nobody ever picks on him. And he really loses his rag when the opposition score, pointing an accusing finger at one of our players who was slow to close one of their players down who made the pass for them to score. Because he's our centre-forward, just before we kick off, he turns to the others and claps his hands to encourage them, yelling that they can win this game. Five minutes later, Daniel picks up a long ball that was kicked out of defence, controls it beautifully, beats his opponent, and surges forward. It's just him and the opposing goalkeeper now. I'm holding my breath when they close, and right at the last moment, Daniel side-steps him and kicks the ball into an empty net. Immediately, he swings around with his arms up in the air to celebrate, and he's surrounded by players congratulating him. Now he looks at me, and I put up a shaking clenched fist to salute him. He grins at me, and I grin back. Right then, I couldn't care less what anybody thinks. My boyfriend has just scored an important goal.

The remainder of the game becomes an even greater battle; two of our players and one of theirs going off injured and being replaced by substitutes. And it's Daniel who greets the substitutes and encourages them when they go onto the pitch, and I'm amazed that I never noticed this God who was here before my eyes before the Christmas hols. How did I miss him?! He's beautiful, and fantastic... everything I've ever wanted in a lover. But the thing I find the most strange is why he likes me. Why me? There are better looking boys in the school. So why not them? Or maybe he has been out with them? Why hasn't he been out with Peter Childs in year six? Perhaps he has. Yuck! Daniel's fifteen now, and he's openly gay, so he must have done sex stuff before. I'm only just thirteen, and I have. Is that what he wants from me... just sex? Suddenly I don't feel so happy. I look around at everyone else here. There are lots of girls, mostly older than me. Some of them will have boyfriends on the pitch, and most of the lads playing will only want them to have sex with. So why should it be any different with Daniel?

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Daniel Philips.

The moment I see Oscar arrive I feel myself lifted spiritually. Because he wasn't there when we kicked off, I felt let down; dejected that the boy I love hadn't arrived. But he has now, and no way am I not going to give one hundred percent for us to win this game. This is for him; for Oscar Lewis the boy I fell in love with a while back, but didn't dare approach.

**********

I first noticed him when we started back after the summer holidays. I'd seen him before. In fact I saw him twice a day on the bus, but I'd never really taken much notice of him. I knew he was a good looking lad, but before the summer hols, he was sort of a kid; just a baby really. But he must have grown a lot during the hols, and filled out as well as growing taller. He'd changed from a kid into a young man, and that's when I began to be attracted to him. That's when I began to watch everything he did; the way he dresses beautifully; that sort of slanted smile he has, and when he isn't being his usual reserved self, the occasional outburst of extrovert laughter that seems so out of place with him, and each week I fell more and more in love with him. I've had crushes on other boys, and I thought this might be another. But instead of my affections waning, they grew stronger. It got to the point that it took all my willpower not to ask him out for a date.

A date! It wouldn't have happened now if I'd not seen the way he fawned over that prick, Peter Childs, and given the game away to an experienced eye like mine that he was that way inclined. If ever there's a bastard; a user, then its Peter Childs, and I didn't want Oscar getting involved with him. Childs asked me for a date, but I told him to fuck off. I knew what he wanted; the same thing he wanted off a few of the other boys who've fallen prey to him. He's a sadist; a cruel bastard. I found that out when that kid Overson came to me and told me that Childs had tied him up and fucked him. The bastard! That's why I nearly gave the game away to Oscar that I was in love with him. I just wanted to keep him out of that bastard's hands. But Oscar never gave me the slightest sign that he was interested in me, so I kept my distance. Until after this last holiday, that is. I knew the moment he looked at me on the bus recently that he was attracted to me. My Oscar was attracted to me... a really gay person. I could have cried with joy.   

**********

I've never hidden my sexuality. Well, not since I was thirteen. I've always known I was gay. I've never liked girls. They piss me off with their falseness; their dressing up to entice the lads and then lead them a merry dance to tease their arses off before telling them to fuck off. Mum used to ask me when I was going to get a girlfriend. I got so pissed off with it that I told her early last year that I was gay and she could forget me bringing girls home. I thought she'd go mad at me, but she surprised me when she said sexuality was not a choice. I couldn't believe my ears. Then we had a long talk about it. We discussed me being an only child and me not having kids. Her answer to that was to remind me that the reason I didn't know my dad was because whoever he was had just used her for sex and then dumped her. It was an emotional couple of hours. I tried to get it out of her who my dad was, but she wouldn't tell me, and she told me that he didn't know I existed. Then she told me that the only good thing in her life was me, and that all she cared about was that I was happy. That's why I haven't given a shit since then. Now, I have one aim in life. I might be gay, but I can be a successful gayer. After we had that talk, everything I've done is to that end. My schoolwork has improved so much that the teachers are astounded at my progress. There's even talk now that I'm university material. Good! The lad who lives in a social housing flat with an unmarried mother and who doesn't know his dad from Adam is going to make a success of his life. I might be gay, but I'm going to make my mum proud of me.

**********

But what's up with Oscar now? Even though we're winning he seems really miserable, and when the game ends and I give him a massive grin, all I get from him is a half-hearted smile. Is he regretting having a date with me? He was alright when he arrived, and he was over the moon after I scored that goal. He was gloating with me, and right then, I knew that he didn't care that we were sharing that moment. I didn't care either, but I wanted to keep his attraction to me a secret for his sake. But he was so pleased that he even dropped his pretence. That was fantastic! But as we stand at the bus stop, he's hardly talking to me, and keeps looking at the floor. I need to find out what's up with him.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

"What's your problem?" Daniel asks, almost abruptly.

I look up at Daniel as we stand at the bus stop. "Nothing."

He stares at me, puzzled by my attitude. "Aren't you pleased we won?"

I nod. "Of course I am."

There's an awkward silence for a while, both of us saying nothing, and then the bus arrives. I get on first and take a seat in the middle of the bus away from anyone else. Daniel throws his bag in the rack above, and sits beside me. After a short while, Daniel asks, "Do you want to go straight home?"

His words sicken me. I don't want to go straight home, but neither do I want to be to Daniel what all the other boys have been to Jezza: just sex. I want to be a lot more than that. I want sex with Daniel, but with him, I don't it without he loves me. I know it's daft, but that's how I feel. But how can I find out? I don't think my look is a very nice when I look up into his eyes, and whisper, "What do you want me for?"

For a moment, he looks puzzled, and then I see in his eyes that he knows what I mean. It's as if a weight has been lifted from him when he smiles, and he sits back in his seat. My hand is on my thigh, and very slowly I see Daniel's slide across until he's got hold of it. He squeezes my hand, and whispers, "Because I'm crazy about you, you daft sod! Why do you think I want to see you? (I shrug my shoulders.) Oscar, I'm nervous as hell, and I don't really know what to say apart from that."

I take another glance into his eyes, and I can see that the amusement has gone. He's got beautiful eyes; sort of deep and sparkling, and I've got butterflies in my tummy that's affecting me talking to him properly, so I can only mumble, "Do you really like me?"

He squeezes my hand even tighter. "Yes. Of course I do! I thought you liked me. Why did you say we'd meet if you didn't?"

"I do. But I've never..." I can't finish the words had a date. Two boys don't say that to each other. I search for an alternative. "... sort of met anybody, if you know what I mean."

Daniel smiles. "I know what you mean. If it's any help, neither have I."

I'm amazed at what he's told me. This boy is never afraid to be what he is, and he's never been out with another boy! I give him a questioning look. "Seriously!"

He nods. "Seriously. You're my... first. That's if you want to be?"

"And you've never been out with another boy in your life before?!"

Again he nods, but this time he's got a daft grin on his face when he replies, "I'm a virgin when it comes to asking anybody out."

That tickles me, and I giggle. Daniel starts to giggle, and we both end up giggling, and while we're giggling, I return the tight grip on his hand. I look through the window of the bus and see that we're almost at Blessington Magna, so I turn to him, and say, "We're almost there. We'd better get ready to get off."

Daniel chuckles. "So you're coming home with me?"

I stare into his eyes. "Home?!"

He grins. "Yes... home! Where do you think I was going to take you... to a massage parlour?"

I can't stop giggling when we get off the bus and I join Daniel as he walks briskly along. All the weight of worry has lifted from my shoulders, and after we've walked for a bit, I ask, "How far is the massage parlour?"

Daniel chuckles. "Not far. Do you live in a posh house?"

"No. I live in an old cottage in Regent Magna."

He looks down at me. "I know where you live you daft sod!"

I give him a cheeky grin. "How do you know that?"

He taps the side of his nose. "I've been doing some detective work on you."

"Why?"

He grins. "Because I'm crazy about you. Anyway, I live in a flat with my mother... a social housing flat. Has that turned you off me?"

"Who says I was turned on you?"

He laughs. "You wouldn't be fucking here with me if you weren't. I'm irresistible. Right!"

I laugh, and we're laughing into each other's eyes when I say, "Fucking too right!"

And for the rest of our walk to his flat, between chatting, we don't stop giggling. I know why I'm doing it: because I'm happy as Larry and nervous as hell, and I suspect Daniel is feeling exactly the same, but I'm also wondering if Daniel has that other feeling. My cock is hard thinking about what we might do in his flat when we get there. Now we've got this far, I hope he doesn't let me down.

**********

I've been through Blessington Magna lots of times in the car with mum and dad, but never really had much to do with the place. It's not much different than my own village of Regent Magna: a village pub and a post office and a small Quicksave where you can buy groceries and stuff. They do go one up on my village though... they have a small fish and chip shop with a queue outside, no doubt waiting for it to open. And while we're talking about football and school and other things, I'm wondering how come there are social housing flats in this place. I've always assumed social housing was a city thing, but unless Daniel is trying to pull my leg, I must be wrong. It's only when we turn left off the main road and go along an avenue with nice house and come to the end, which is a cul-de-sac, that I see where he lives. Right at the end is a block of two storey dwellings that I reckon is about eight flats. They're pretty modern, and the grass is well kept on the open plan lawns outside them. I'm curious, so I ask Daniel, "How come they built these here?"

"They're mostly for the farm workers who can't afford (he points to the semi-detached houses we've passed) to buy one of these places. The flats belong to a housing association."

I look up at him. "Does your mum work on a farm?"

He laughs. "No. She's the odd one out. She works at the pub. They call her the `Witch of Blessington'."

I laugh, too. "You're being horrible!"

He gives me a daft stare. "Am I! Wait `till you meet her. She'll scare you to death."

Through my giggles, I ask, "Will she be in?"

He nods. "Yes. She said she wasn't going to work until she'd met you."

"She knows I'm coming?"

"Of course."

"What did you tell her about me?"

"I told her I was bringing my boyfriend home."

"Fuck off! You didn't!"

"I did."

"Does she know you're...?"

Daniel interrupts me when I falter because I don't want to say the word. "Gay? Of course she does. She's my mum. Every bugger else does, so why shouldn't my mum know?"

"Is she alright with it?"

"She's got two chances."

"What does she think about me?"

"Just that I'm crazy about you."

"Does she know how old I am?"

"Not yet, but she soon will do. Are you worried?"

"Dead right I am. Suppose she tells people about me?"

"She won't. I've told her I'll kick her arse from here to Regent Magna if she does."

That makes me laugh, and I have a job to blurt out, "You don't talk to her like that!"

Daniel grins, and winks at me. "Don't I? You'll see. Just make a sign of the cross before she hugs you."

"She won't hug me!"

"She might. I'm just warning you. You're in for a surprise."

**********

Mrs Philips doesn't hug me (thank God) when we get into the flat - a first floor one – and neither do I go near her when I see her. For some strange reason I expected her to be about ten years older than mum and dad, but despite her red and yellow hair and amazing, muticoloured flowered dress and black stockings, I can tell she's younger than mum and dad. Mum and dad had me when they were twenty one, so she must have had Daniel when she was still a young teenager. I know he hasn't got a dad, because he told me so. I wanted to ask him where his dad was, but he said it so matter of fact that I thought it better not to take it any further until I get to know him better.

But she does hug Daniel, and to my surprise, he hugs her back, and then they kiss on the lips. That embarrasses me, so I look away while they're doing it, and I don't look at them again until Mrs Philips says, "So this is Oscar!"

I'm shaking like a leaf when she comes towards me, and to stop her hugging me, and, God forbid, giving me a kiss on the lips, I hold out a timid hand for her to shake. "Hello Mrs Philips."

She laughs, does a sort of courtesy, and says, "Pleased to meet you Oscar," when she shakes my hand.

Daniel booms, "Behave yourself mother! What's for dinner? I'm starving."

She's still looking at me and grinning when she replies, "I've done us some Blessington-rat stew. It's bubbling away nicely in the cauldron now."

"Mother!" yells Daniel with a big grin on his face, "I've warned you! Now what have you got for us?! We're both starving, aren't we Oscar?"

Mrs Philips's face turns into a nice smile. "I'll go down the chippies. They should be open now. What can I get for you, Oscar?"

I'm about to say I fancy a fish, but then remember that if Daniel kisses me, I'll smell of it, so I timidly ask, "Do they do chicken?"

Mrs Philips pulls a face. "They do indeed, but it's mostly the posh folk who have chicken."

"Mother! I warned you", Daniel yells, and then says more quietly, "I'll have chicken as well. And bring a large portion of chips so me and Oscar can share them."

Mrs Philips giggles. "I'll get me coat."

**********

"God! I'll kill that woman! Are you alright?" Daniel asks me when his mother has gone to the chip shop.

I grin at him. "Just about. I see what you mean. She is different."

Daniel laughs. "You'll get used to her. She's lovely when she's not being daft. Do you mind if I take a proper shower? Those school showers are useless. I'll put the TV on, and you can watch it while I change."

"No, I'm fine with that. But you will be out before she gets back, won't you?"

Another laugh. "You'll be fine. Sit down and I'll put the telly on. If you don't like what's on, you can look at my tropical fish."

I grin. "I'm surprised we're not having them for dinner."

Daniel switches on the TV and leaves me. I look around. Despite this being a social housing flat, I'm surprised how nice and neat and clean it is, much like I was when I first went into Jezza's caravan. They've got a large three-seater leather sofa and two matching armchairs, and a nice wooden occasional table in front of them and a nice gas fire on the wall behind it. There are lots of photographs in silver frames about, so I get up and have a look at them. They're mostly Daniel through various stages of him growing up, and just a few of other people. There's a few of him as a baby and a toddler, and they make me smile. Then he becomes a boy and gets better looking. The one I like most is one when he must have been my age, taken with him in his football strip. That would have been taken before I went to the big school. He was a lot smaller then, and he's skinny compared to what he is now. It's amazing how he's filled out to be the muscle bound teenager he is. But he was good looking, and I think if I'd been in his class, I'd have fancied him then. And then I see one more of him taken not so long ago. He's with his mum and is smiling really nicely. I study his face and his body and feel my cock getting hard, but part of the reason for that is because I know he's not far from me, and because I can hear the shower going, he's probably naked right now. If I had the courage and I knew his mother wouldn't be coming back soon, I'd love to burst in on him, go on my knees and suck his beautiful cock until he squirted spunk into my mouth. My cock gets even harder, and I have to adjust it in my jeans to try and hide it. I hear the shower stop, so I go and sit in one of the armchairs.

Just as I've sat down, Daniel comes out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. But it's not his hair that I'm looking at; above his jeans he's wearing nothing. It's a good job I've got my hands in my lap or he'd see my cock throbbing. He's got an even more fantastic body than I thought he'd got, and he's built more like an eighteen year old than a fifteen year old, and I know that if ever he gets me in those strong arms and I wanted to put up a fight, I'd have no chance of stopping him. Strangely, that thought makes my cock throb even harder, and I have to look away to stop myself staring at him.

"Anything good on?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Not really."

He goes to a drawer in the sideboard, fiddles about in it, and throws me a Gameboy. "Play on that for a bit. Have you got one?"

I nod. "Yes, but it's at home."

"Have you got a computer?"

"No. Have you?"

"Yes. I've got a laptop. Styles gave it to me."

I look at him. "Styles the teacher?"

He nods. "Yes." He grins. "I think he fancies me."

I'm not sure if Daniel is fooling me again, and I give him a quizzical look. "You're not serious?"

"Yes I am," he says, still with a big grin on his face, "but he's not my type."

I grin back. "Who is your type?"

He comes and sits on the arm of the armchair I'm in, and strokes my hair with his hand. "You are. Thanks for meeting me today. When you weren't there when we kicked off, I thought you'd decided not to come."

"Would that have upset you?"

The hand on my head presses even harder. "Yes. I would have been as miserable as fuck if you hadn't shown up."

I giggle nervously. "That much, eh?"

"You can bet your arse it was that much!" Then he giggles. "Ooops! Sorry. I meant you could bet your shirt that it was."

I look up at him. "I'll bet you say that to all the boys you've been out with."

Daniel's face becomes really serious, and he stares into my eyes when he says, "No. I know I'm as gay as fuck, but you're the only boy I've ever asked to meet me."

Before I can answer, he gets up and goes out of the room, and I'm still thinking about what he's said when his mum comes in with the chips and stuff.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Daniel Philips.

I'm shaking with nerves when I go into my bedroom. I nearly let the cat out of the bag with my bluntness. Arse. I never intended that to come out, it was just a figure of speech, but it's opened doors to what I'm thinking, and I think it's opened doors to what Oscar is thinking as well. I could tell by looking in his eyes that the word `arse' meant something to him. But what? I know what it means to me. I'm in love with him, and I want to fuck him, but more than that, I want to tell him that I love him when I'm fucking him. That's what I think about every night when I'm wanking; that and kissing him and exploring his beautiful body. Not only do I love him, I adore his body. When I see him in the schoolyard, I'm imagining what he's like underneath his clothes. I know what his dick is like... I've seen it. It's a beauty, uncut and a nice mouthful I imagine when it's hard. But the thing I want most of all is having his gorgeous body underneath me, helpless, and telling me how much he loves me. That's what I want, and then I'll treat him with love and tenderness while I'm giving him pleasure. But is that what he wants? God! I've thought about it for ages. I don't know what he wants, and that's why I daren't make a move on him. One wrong move and I'll lose the boy I love.

Does he love me? He likes me or he wouldn't be here now. But does he love me? He sure as hell can't love me as much as I love him. That's impossible. He fills my waking thoughts every day. But now I've got him in my house, I haven't got a clue what to do. Mum will be going to work soon and we'll be alone in the house. What then? Will he tell me to fuck off if I can get him on the sofa and put an arm around him? If he does, I'll be mortified. But why is he here if he doesn't want the same thing as me? He's thirteen. I knew what I wanted at thirteen, so surely he should. I'm pretty sure he's gay like me, so why should he not want the same as me? If I was in his situation, I wouldn't be able to stop myself taking what I wanted. But maybe he's like me and daren't in case he thinks he'll spoil things? At some point, I think I'm going to take a chance and see what happens. It's either that or we waste a complete afternoon talking shit just because we're too nervous to do anything. Let's see how it goes. Mum's just come in, and I don't want to leave Oscar alone with her.

**********

"See you later mum. What time will you be home?"

Mum grins at me. "What time is Oscar going?"

"About five to catch the half past bus."

"I'll be home just before five then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Before I can tell her to sod off, she's gone through the door leaving me and Oscar giggling. I grin at him, and shrug my shoulders. "Sorry about the daft cow. What do you want to do... go out for a walk or stay in and watch TV?"

Oscar looks through the window. "It's still raining. Shall we watch TV?"

I nod. "It would be best. I'll draw the curtains. We can see it better then, especially if we sit on the sofa. Is that alright with you?"

Oscar nods, and while I'm drawing the curtains, he flits from the armchair onto the sofa and sits at one end. I switch on the TV, pick up the remote, and go and sit at the other end. Then I flick through the channels to BBC Sport. "Is this okay for you," I ask.

"Fine. Can you get Teletext on to see the scores?"

"Yes. But they haven't kicked off yet. It's only two o' clock. Do you want to play scrabble or something?"

Oscar shakes his head. "No thanks. I'm not much for scrabble. We can have a go on your Gameboy."

I point to it on the table. "Get it then."

He gets up, brings it back to the sofa, and begins to play. That gives me the excuse to move along, sit close to him, and watch him while he plays Pacman. He's pretty good, but after a while I tell him he's useless. He pulls his face and hands it to me. "You have a go then, cleverclogs! Let's see if you can do better?"

I grab it from him, and start playing. He comes closer to see what I'm doing, and our legs are together, and then he rests his head on my arm and watches me. Our closeness is overwhelming; the touch of our bodies like an electric shock, and I'm scared to death he'll hear my heart pounding. I reckon it's only our laughter stopping him hearing it, and we do laugh as I try to beat him, and we pass the Gameboy between us, taking turns to outdo each other. Occasionally he thumps me on the arm or leg, and I thump him back, and all the time this is happening, I'm edging ever closer to the end of the sofa where I'm sitting. Eventually, I'm on the end, leaning backwards to stop him interfering, and he's leaning even closer into me. It's then that I take an almighty chance by giving him the Gameboy, and at the same time, putting an arm around his shoulders so he leans into me so I can see what he's doing. I thought he might object, but he folds easily into me and rests his head in the crook of my arm while he plays. His hair is by my lips, and I kiss it secretly. It smells of shampoo and of the boy I'm madly in love with.

My hand has dropped to his waist now, and I fondle him with my fingers, feeling at the softness of the white pullover he's wearing. He continues playing, but I notice that our exuberance has diminished, replaced by a sort of quietness that we both know we're in a compromising situation. Still my heart is pounding, and it goes into overdrive when I see that my finger movements are slowly bringing his pullover up his body until, eventually, I'm stroking the t-shirt beneath it and I can feel the warmth of him. Because of the way he's sort of half lying into me, his jeans are stretched downwards, pushing the waistband of them down onto his hip, and my fingers can now explore his hipbone, and even venture slightly onto the front of his tummy. But I don't want his t-shirt, I want his skin, and very slowly I work his t-shirt out of his jeans and slip my fingers underneath it to caress the warmth and tenderness of this part of his nakedness. And then I slip my finger ends underneath the waistband of his jeans and run them along its length.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

I can hardly breathe I'm so excited. Daniel's fingers are under my t-shirt and he's stroking my skin. At times he dips them under the hem of my jeans and runs them along inside the top of it. My cock is throbbing like mad, but I can't do anything about it. I glance at what he's doing, and when his fingers are at their lowest point, he can't be more than three inches from the base of my cock. I make loads of mistakes on the Gameboy, but now he doesn't take it from me and laugh at my mistakes. We both know what's happening, and both of us don't need anything to disturb this sequence of events that will lead to what we both want. I can see that it's getting awkward for Daniel to go lower, so I adjust my position by lifting my left leg onto the sofa and stretching it out, and even though the bulge in my jeans is now obvious, I don't care.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Daniel Philips.

When Oscar lifts his leg onto the sofa and repositions himself, I know he's done it to make himself available to me. The bulge in his jeans tells me that, and as I watch it, I can see it throbbing. It's that which makes me brave and take the final plunge of pushing my hand right inside his jeans and under his underpants to grasp the red hot cock that's as hard as a nail. He shudders in my arms, lifts his head, and stares into my eyes. His lips are flushed and slightly parted; irresistibly inviting, and with open lips I crush mine to his. Immediately, he casts the Gameboy aside and his arms come around my neck, crushing me to him. I pull him round and lean his head on the sofa arm and kiss him passionately. The moment I do that, I feel his hand searching for my cock, and when he finds it, he crushes it in his grip, rolling it around, trying to wank it. Then he lets go of it and I feel him trying to undo the button at the waist of my jeans. He's struggling, so I take my hand out of his jeans and undo it for him, and unzip myself at the same time. He's now got the advantage; two hands to my one, but when he lifts his other leg onto the sofa and I can get to him properly, that cancels out the advantage, because I can now undo his jeans. More than that, when I've undone them, I pull his jeans and underpants down onto his thighs so I can get to all of him. But I want more. Much more, so when I've felt at his cock and balls and his lower belly, I sit up and tell him, "I want all your clothes off."

He swallows hard, and nods, and then says, "And I want yours off."

*********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

The sexual excitement I felt when Jezza first had me is nothing compared to what's happening to me now. After just a couple of minutes of us being naked on the sofa and not being able to get at each other properly, Daniel got up and held out a hand. He stared into my sex crazed eyes and asked, "Shall we go to bed?"

I stared at the magnificent, naked body of the boy I love, and the massive cock jutting straight out, and whispered breathlessly, "Yes."

**********

I'm on my back now, on his bed, and he's sucking my cock, and he's certainly not gentle while he's doing it. He alternates between my cock and balls and belly, sucking and kissing and biting, teasing me almost to the point of cumming before he goes to somewhere where it's not nice enough to make me cum. Until that is he pushes his fingers into the crack of my bum and feels at my hole while he's sucking me, and that's it! I grab the back of his head to make sure he doesn't pull off, ram my cock into his mouth, wrap my legs around his neck, and the feelings completely overwhelm me.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Daniel Philips.

I've dreamt of this moment; fantasized about it, but never in my wildest dreams did I realize it would be so fantastically sexy. Oscar has the most beautiful body imaginable. When I first saw him naked, I was gobsmacked. For a thirteen year old, he's built like a boy God with a strong muscular torso and legs that match it. His thighs are both soft and firm at the same time, and when I knead his superb, hot flesh, my entire body shudders with desire and lust to posses him. And I was right in my thoughts about his cock when it was hard. It matches his body perfectly; strong and erect, and pulsating with desire. No, never in my wildest dreams did I ever think he would be like this.

And when we go to the bedroom and he lies on the bed and allows me to make love to him how I want to, precum is oozing from my cock when I suck him and lick him and kiss him. I want this to last forever, but Oscar is so worked up that he won't allow me, and when I feel at his bum hole, he wraps his strong thighs around my head to lock me onto him, and thrusts his cock right into my mouth. Amongst the mad delirium of this mad moment, I feel a small spurt of his spunk hit the back of my throat, and I swallow it greedily as best I can while he's grinding his pubic bone into my face so hard that it's hurting me. But I won't allow that to spoil the moment, and I cling to him until I know his moment of lust has passed. And it takes a while for that to happen, which means his climax must have been a fantastic one. Only when he's collapsed onto the bed and his legs have unwound from around my neck do I go up the bed and stare down at his heaving, panting face. His eyes are closed, but when they open, they're partly glazed over; unfocussed for a short while.

Eventually, they do focus, and he stares right into my eyes, and I'm amazed when the tears flood from them. He strokes my cheeks, and says, "I love you Daniel."

That starts me off, and I feel my own tears welling up. It's because he's just spoken the most beautiful words I've ever heard. This boy I love with a crazy passion has just confirmed that he feels the same way about me, and I can't handle it.  But through my own blubbering, I manage to say, "And I love you Oscar, more than anything in the world."

And we come together in a fusion of writhing flesh and tears and love that has my senses reeling.

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Oscar Lewis.

I feel so warm and comfortable and secure in Daniel's strong embrace that I never want it to end. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a more beautiful moment. We've said the magic words, and are now sealing our love with passionate kisses and more mutterings of love for each other. Every time I tell him that I love him, he repeats it back to me, and then kisses me. The kisses become longer and our bodies more entwined until he's rolled onto his back with me on top of him. I thought my passions might have waned after that frenetic moment of  sexual frenzy left me, but my cock has never softened one bit. It's still throbbing with desire, and Daniel's is too; between my thighs as I lie flat on him. And that's what makes me do it.

I can't stop myself getting up, taking his cock in both hands, and sitting on it. His mouth is wide open; unbelieving of what I'm doing, but I don't care if he thinks I'm a slut for what I'm about to do. His knob is wet and sticky, which helps as I push down and feel it slip through my ring, and when my skin retracts to trap him inside, I feel an overwhelming sense of power that I'm achieving what I want to do: give the boy who loves me the ultimate gay pleasure I know he desires. Still holding the base of his cock, I push down even harder and feel him sinking into me; past the second muscle until I can go no further and my bum cheeks are settled on his pubic hairs. Yes, it is painful, but that's not the reason for my tears when I say, "I love you Daniel, and this is to show you how much I do."

At that point, I close my eyes and begin to work my bum on his cock; backwards and forwards and up and down at the same time. Because my eyes are tightly closed, I can't see Daniel, but I can hear his cries of desire, and that spurs me on. I know he's cumming when he heaves his body from the bed and pins me to him, and I grit my teeth and redouble my efforts on the beautiful spurting cock that is buried deep inside me, and when I feel the warmth of his spunk flooding my insides, I yell, "Yes Daniel! Yes! Fuck me Daniel! Fuck me! Fuck Me! Fuck me! I love you!!!"

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

Daniel Philips.

Oscar is sobbing like a baby as he clutches my body and wraps his leg over and around me after he's pulled off me and scrambles into my arms. I'm in partial shock myself, but the shock is tempered by my complete love for this wonderful boy who has just sacrificed himself to give me the ultimate gay sexual act. I knew it was painful for him, probably more painful than I can imagine, and I wanted to stop him when he was doing it, but my pleasure and knowing that what he was doing was what he wanted, stopped me. I once thought that he could never love me as much as I loved him, but I now know different. What he's just done is proof of that. Nobody would do what he did unless they loved somebody madly, and even though I'm feeling bad about the pain he's just had, that bad feeling is tempered with pure joy. Oscar is mine; I am his, and we love each other madly. Life is beautiful when two people share a love like ours.

To be continued.

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.