Date: Sun, 20 Feb 2005 21:48:32 +0000 From: Alistair Stevenson Subject: Made in Sheffield Chapter 7 6:00PM Ever since I was about eight years old and first started getting high on testing my own strength and co-ordination, the only thing I'd completely loved in life was competitive sport. Belonging to teams, having pride in being selected and wearing the kit, uniting and leading my buddies against the other side had been at the heart of everything about me. But on this day, in less than a day, sport had spat me out. The man I'd fought for - John Royal - had sentenced me to death; the lads I'd fought with had stripped, humiliated, beaten and fucked me. Now I was outside, alone and naked. The back of the gym gave onto a bowl with synthetic pitches at its base and banks of trees and bushes around the perimeter. I was quickly able to hobble into the cover of the undergrowth without worrying about Escott coming back for a second crack, or - just as bad - some random student ringing campus security to report a naked casualty staggering about. The last thing I wanted now was any kind of attention from other people. The second I felt safely hidden I found myself crashing down onto the soft, warm earth. It was as if, in the gym, my body had pushed the damage away, but now it gave up fighting and rushed to let me know what distress each part of it was in. My head and abdomen were going off like a firework display of bad information. One of my eyes was throbbing as it closed up; my ass felt like it was being belted again with every movement of my legs; each breath seemed to suggest the idea of broken ribs and my back pounded like it had been massaged by sledgehammers. I began losing it, drifting in and out of awareness with flashes of thought about Escott coming back, Royal finding me, of what I'd done to Colin, that it was so hot and sunny, that I missed Sarah, that I'd be sorry to die; stuff like that, drunk on pain. I guess it took twenty minutes or so for me to come round and start thinking about what to do next. Like planning strategy for a match, I prioritised what was to be done by nailing my most immediate need, which was clothes. Flinching as atom bombs of abuse mushroomed in various muscle groups I got to my feet and, still hidden from the synthetic pitches, began skirting round the rim of the Goodwin Centre playing field. I thought there might be a chance of finding thrown away kit to wear but the only things in the underbrush were pigeons and squirrels. At the very edge of the boundary wall was a way out to a building site and the back of the psychology department; despite the time it took me to get there I arrived just as naked and directionless as when I'd set off. For a moment it occurred to me that the place where the whole chaos sprang from, Paul's house, was only a hundred metres away. I would have been ready to streak the streets if I'd thought I could have stood having to explain what had happened. But the thought of facing Paul made me groan with loss. I'd been first 11 captain all the time he'd known me. Despite tapping off with him for free in the Botanical Gardens earlier I was used to being the one he came to, not the one who went to him. But, man, it was tempting. I knew he'd help me, and I could always say nothing: just ask him for clothes and fuck off without a word. I was standing at the edge of the sports centre grounds thinking I was alone, wondering whether Paul would even be in if I went round, when I heard a clear soft, curse come from scaffolding above my head. "Bloody hell, mun, Garden of Eden is it?" I shot my head up and saw Andy Craig, a Welsh stonemason who'd done work on our house six months before. He was working on a new build. Instinctively, I dropped my hands to cover my cock and tried to grin like I saw the joke, but when he caught sight of my battered face his tone changed. "Fuck! Hold on, I'll be down." Trying to think what I could say to make him lend me some clothes without explaining everything that had happened, I moved back into the shade of the trees. He arrived in his hard-hat, looking serious, brickdust on his jeans and T-shirt, a utility belt around his waist. He was a huge guy, 6 foot 7 or so, and right then the attention of a gentle giant was just the medicine I needed. He glanced at the bruises and cuts splashed all over my face, chest and arms and he reached out and touched me. "You need hospital mate. Where's your clothes? Fuck you look bad. I can drive you to casualty. Hold on." Without any fuss, he pulled his shirt off and handed it over then bombed off to fetch his van. When I pulled it on I found that, thanks to his size, it was big enough to cover both my bruises and my bollocks. Andy looking out for me, the great guy-sweat smell of Andy's body coming from his T, and the fact I knew I could trust him, finally brought some of my confidence creeping back. The reason I knew Andy was from when we'd needed specialist work on the house, but the reason I knew I could trust him was because one afternoon he'd caught me in the act. It happened because I'd asked a first year back from a footy trial thinking we'd have a drink and I'd get to know him better before I offered him a position. As it turned out he'd only tried for a spot on the team because the position he was after was underneath me taking a length of dick. Half an hour after handing him a friendly beer he was panting and moaning over the kitchen table as I deep-boned his chubby little ass. In addition to the cash he'd paid he was a great ride and I was laughing to myself about my own dumb luck when I looked up to find Andy outside the window watching us. Standing half-naked on a building site after my very first queerbashing, It was a mindshag to remember how badly I used to want to keep all the sex-shit secret. Back then I'd quickly frisked off the footballer, sent him packing and hustled outside to face Andy. He was busying himself with my walls and I thought maybe things were about to get tense. Considering his height and strength I'd even braced myself for a scuffle. In the end keeping quiet and relaxed with him led to unexpected treasure. A married man with kids, as we got talking he moved from tagging me fucking my mates as none of his business, to being intrigued by what I got up to, to letting me offer him a range of ways I might be able to help him explore his curiosity. His excuse for not sealing the deal was that I was employing him and he didn't want to screw our relationship by mixing business with pleasure. I let him off the hook but three or four times afterwards, at the house and in the pub, he'd raised the subject again and I'd enjoyed arousing his amazement with stories about what I'd done with other dudes. After a minute or so Andy pulled up in his battered transit, his face still frowning and concerned, even though he was managing not to hassle me with questions. I leaned down to the open driver's window. "Not the hospital. I'm sound basically, it's all superficial. Can we go back to yours?" "Sure, wherever you like. Hop in." "I'll get in the back. I took an ass-kicking, it's too bad to sit down" I pulled open the rear door, jumped up and we rattled off over potholes, out onto the main road and down a couple of backstreets to Andy's house. I'd never been there, but I was glad above anything else not to be alone or dependent on strangers. Maybe my days of not needing anyone were coming to an end. Andy was still holding back, trying not to bother me. Over the noise of the engine I made an effort to get things back to normal, to show Andy he could relax, despite the look of things, I was ok. "Cheers, bro. I owe you. But what's your wife gonna make of you pitching up topless with me in tow?" For the first time he smiled. "Us Swansea boys, we don't pay to much mind to what the Mrs thinks. Luckily, though, she 'appens to be at her mam's with the kids." >From behind, I squeezed his broad, bare shoulder and grinned. "Alone at last." I felt him stiffen but saw him smile. "Leave it out, mun. You look like a bag of shit. You seen your face? You're through with the modelling, anyway," "I'll heal, cock-sucker. Some lads like the rough look." "Not this one. Now behave, we don't want the neighbours talking do we?" We'd arrived. He had a point, anyone seeing us would have wondered what was going on: two guys with enough clothes for one. Thinking about how noticeable we were sparked off a new, deadlier anxiety: we still weren't as far as I'd have liked from Uni. Being beaten up had given me a lingering trauma about a chance encounter with any more rugby trouble. For a second, I flashbacked to the mortal fear I'd felt in the gym, it was chilling, but Andy's gentle self-assurance snapped me home again. "All right mate? You ready to get out are you? Or you wanna stay and chat with my chisels?" I was pretty sure, if it came, Andy would help me handle any more adversity, so, pulling his T-shirt further down I jumped out the van and followed him up to his front door. Andy dumped his tools in the hall then there was a moment's confused eye contact with neither of us knowing what step to take next. Standing half-naked in a house with toys, kids coats and family photos around I found myself rocked by shame at what had been done to me, by the smell that clung to me of rugby player piss, sweat and sperm. "You want a drink Greeno? Or I get you some clothes? What?" "A bath...do you have a bath?" "No problem, come upstairs." He bounded up to the first floor and set about proving no trouble was too much. In the bathroom he span the taps on a huge old enamel bath and squirted in a load of children's bubbles. All the time he was reassuring me it would only take a second, and I'd be alright and everything was fine now and on and on. While he did that, what I did was watch the amazing breadth of his tanned shoulders, the thickness of his deltoids, the plates of muscle over his back, his trim waist and the twin basketballs of his ass. I knew important parts of myself were recovering already because I could feel my cock begin to lift. Unlike me, Andy had his mind on the task at hand. Once my bath was full he stood up, turned to face me and said that if I was ok about it he'd phone a mate who could check me over for anything a doctor might need to see. Then he left me to it. Safe and unwatched, I finally had the privacy to properly assess my wounds. Just pulling an old cotton T-shirt off hurt in ways I hadn't thought possible. When I began climbing into the tub it was like the battering I'd taken was happening for a second time. My ass felt like nails had been driven into it; I had to lie on my side to stop myself howling. But the hot water worked a magic on my feelings that no painkillers could have done. I sank my head beneath the suds and filled my ears with the sounds of the sea. Heat wrapped itself around me and memories of the things I'd acted out and the things that had been acted out on me bubbled up. At first I felt dread I was going to break out sobbing again. But then, like a surge, I felt the conviction that, whatever happened now, I'd survived. The fear hadn't crushed me, I was still alive. There was a gentle knock at the door and Andy was back, asking if I fancied a beer. Rolling round so I was face up, but keeping weight off my ass, I asked him to come in. Old habits die hard: when I saw he hadn't bothered covering up his he-man tits, arms and abs I took it as a sign he was offering me the lot. "Hey, Andy. You come to soap my back? I'm not kidding, I can't do it, they tied up my wrists, my hands are knackered." He passed me a bottle of Budd and knelt at the side of the bath, ready to do - I figured - what he'd done hundreds of times with his kids, make sure everything was nice and clean. Only I wasn't a kid, I was a full-sized fuck-monster with my thickening cock starting to stretch its way out of the bathfoam. "Give us the soap then. No fooling round though, you could be hurt mate. Who did it? Was you mugged?" "Nah. What we talked about before - the whoring hobby I have, it finally did for me. I met my match." He looked thoughtful and I gestured to my chest. He soaped up his hand and began getting suds over my pecs. I flexed and he cupped and squeezed my muscles liked he cherished them, but he still wasn't acting like this was an opportunity he'd been desperate for. I sighed deeply to indicate how much pleasure his touch was giving me. When he modestly kept his hand well above the waterline I really felt I had no choice but to stretch, sloshing water over my crotch and clearing away the bubbles so he could see I had a hardon. He looked down at it, then up at me, gentle looking, serious. "Go on, touch it. You said you were curious, check out how you feel." He very slowly dropped his hand and ran his fingertips up my root, which lengthened to meet his touch. He made a low kind of moan as he wrapped his huge hand around my rigid length then - completely unpredictably - he leaned in, put his free hand around my shoulders and came towards my face like he wanted us to kiss. Instinctively, I moved my lips to be in line with his but he kept them from me, lowering his jaw so just our cheeks were together. After being fucked like a piece of meat by first Seb then Jenks, the tenderness of it nearly killed me. "Don't quit, Andy. Come on, mate. We both want it." He stopped, moving back onto his haunches and letting go of my dick. Disappointment wasn't the word. Right then the thing I wanted like a drug was an endless amount of being tenderly caressed. "I can't, Noah. I don't want to." "Aw, man. What is it, your wife?" "I hadn't thought of her. No, it's not her. I got it bad for someone else. Obsession, like. Can't get him off my mind. Like a kid, I am. Got a crush." If he hadn't looked so troubled I'd have been laughing at him: a 6ft7 stone mason with a secret infatuation on another guy. I washed away the soap he'd rubbed into my chest and began easing myself out of the bath, my cock softening as I made my mind up to sort Andy once and for all. He stayed where he was looking dolefully at the floor, so as I stood up and climbed out the tub I was standing over him, my prick not far from his face. "Tell us about it then." "Fuck, it's this lad who's coming round here now to look at you. A&E nurse he is, called Jamie. A friend of me mam's asked me to look out for him when he moved up here, now I can't think about anything else, keep dropping bollocks at work cos my brain's Jamie-fied." He stood up and I could see that, whereas squeezing my tits had had no effect I'd noticed on what had happened under his jeans, just talking sadly about Jamie had made him throw a beam. He adjusted it while I stood there, looking apologetic. "I'm hard all day. Agony it is. Even worse when I see him. I gotta stay sitting down." "Right. Fuck, can't be easy hiding that thing. What, and Jamie doesn't even know you like him? He's straight?" "Come through to the bedroom, I'll find you something to wear. How's the bruises? They look better, but they still look bad." "Forget that, spill your guts. What does Jamie say about taking it up the ass?" In his room he found old running shorts and a sweatshirt which I pulled on while he sat offloading his heartbreak. "It's tricky it is. I know he's straight. I mean I'm straight pretty much I guess but soon as I saw him it was like this kid I used to know when we was at school, I wanted him even more than I wanted my girl, you know. Wanted him like madness, like I cared for nothing else." "Yeah, fair enough. You've gone a bit bisexy, that's all. Good for you. Let it pass or do something about it." "I already done something about it. Jesus, it's shaming." "You stealing his underwear? Peeking through his windows? Raiding his bins for condoms?" "No! He's real short of money, right. So I told him I had a mate who made porn, who'd pay him to let me film him have a wank." "Genius. Did he swallow it?" Andy looked down, appalled by what he was confessing. "Oh, God. Yes. A month back. Now he's asking when's the film out, can he do more, all sorts. I been thinking about leaving town to be honest. Don't know how to work it out. What the fuck do I do Noah? I wouldn't know how to get a dvd of him made even if I wanted other people looking at him. Which I don't." I felt fully confident for the first time in twenty-four hours. "What you gotta do first, Andrew, my friend, is relax. Your problems are over, mate. You've come to the right bloke. Uncle Noah's gonna look after you. Don't worry about a thing. Let's go get set. Where's your beer?" We tumbled downstairs, Andy breathless with arousal at the idea that I might truly be able to get him what he wanted. I knew I could. I knew I couldn't fail. What I didn't know was why an inner voice was telling me that setting up a sex session was the wrong response to everything that had happened to me since the day before. But I ignored it. We fetched an arsenal of alcohol as a weapon against Jamie's defences and dumped it in the room Andy used for a study. Normally for seducing someone who I suspected might be shy of boy-on-boy experimentation, I'd have chosen somewhere more comfortable or bedroom-like, but this room had the one prop I couldn't do without: an old massage table. Andy was helping me shift tools and piles of magazines around, following my orders but with his mind was on what was to come. "Look, tell me what's gonna happen. What you gonna do?" "I don't know yet myself. It'll come naturally. Just act dumb; agree with whatever I say. It won't fail Andy; it's already in the back of the net. Don't get nervous, it'll put him off. Let me lead, you just follow where I lead you." "But, Noah, I don't even know where you're heading. What you gonna make happen, mun?" I stopped what I was doing. "Andy, you're a man, ok? You've got to go where your nuts lead you or you'll get fucked in the head. Your particular dick has homed in on old Jamesy-boy and if you don't act on it it's gonna torture you forever." He sort of nodded, looking sadly into my eyes. "I'm gonna facilitate your fuck-related needs. It's a skill I have. Forget the pre-match analysis for now, just concentrate on having your balls ready for action when the chance arises. It's gonna be your cock's Christmas and birthday all in one" "You're gonna make it so me and him get off?" "Is that what you want? What do you want? Be honest." Andy didn't need to answer, under his jeans his bench was like a telegraph pole. I was right, he didn't need to practice or plan, he just had to allow himself to follow his instincts while I worked on getting Jamie where we wanted him. Like Process and Jackson in the gym, without being aware of what he was doing, Andy groped his own crotch, anticipating the relief of getting what he'd longed for. His voice was breathy with urgent need. "I'm ready for it. Just tell me what to do, butt. I'm ready." At that exact moment the doorbell went. I nodded at Andy to go bring the poor lad to me. While I listened to the two of them greet each other I quickly did what I pretty much always did before a trick, I pushed my hand into my shorts and squeezed my cock for luck. Doing something so normal felt odd, as if the day's events had passed me by - was it back to business as usual then? Wherever that thought was headed it dropped like a stone as Jamie walked in. Immediately it was clear how Andy had lost his heart to him: he was just unbeatably and stunningly good looking. A boy not just fit but beautiful. He had naturally highlighted dark blond hair, a solid, lean build and a mouth of outstandingly kissable perfection. I watched that mouth say hello to me and part into a grin that could have charmed anyone into loving him. I took people around me reacting like they appreciated the way I looked in my stride, but in a room that also contained Jamie I knew it definitely wouldn't have been me people would have been swooning over. Andy told us each other's names, we shook hands and Jamie's smile disappeared as he scanned the cuts and bruises on my face. His seriousness made me stumble as it hit home that I might have injuries worth proper medical attention. "You need to report this to the police. Sit down. Andy, have you got a first aid box? Is this fist damage or blunt instrument? Did you get hit all over, or just your head and face?" "Uh, mostly all over." "You're gonna have to let me take a proper look at you. Andy said you didn't want to go to a&e but, look, I work there, I can get you in the Hallamshire hospital without any waiting around." I shook my head. "Listen, Noah, you could have a detached retina under that black eye. And if you took a punch to the head you might have concussion or subcranial bleeding." He'd moved me onto the massage table and taken off my shirt without me clocking the fact that rather than taking care of things I was now being taken care of. While he moved in for his top-to-toe I lay back and let him do his job. I had to admit, I really fancied him: he smelt great, his clothes were simple but stylish and his hands were firm and gentle as they moved over my body down towards my feet. Any more of that and I'd have had to touch him right back. Andy returned and passed over a green emergency box, both of us waiting for Jamie to give his opinion. He came back up to my head and looked steadily into my face, his blue eyes serious and concerned. Right that second, whatever he'd told me to do, I'd have done it. "There's nothing obviously broken. Where's the worst pain?" I glanced away from the heart-breaking attractiveness of his face to try looking like I was too ashamed to mention it and I quietly told him they'd taken a strap to my ass. He took it in his stride, got me to turn over and asked me to push down my shorts. Gasping in renewed pain as the waistband slid over the welts, I listened to both Jamie and Andy swearing as they saw the damage. Peace-loving family man that he was, Andy was angry on my behalf. "You can see the mark of the buckle. Jesus, Noah, whoever did this needs a fucking hiding of his own. Who was it, mate?" I felt Jamie's hand pressing gently at the base of my spine. "You're lucky you didn't go into shock. We need to clean the cuts or they'll get infected. If you can stand it I can treat you here, otherwise it's the hospital because you'll need pain relief before we start." "I can stand it. Do your worst." He chuckled and I looked up at him as he got busy loading a cotton pad with some kind of antiseptic. Andy was still fuming, pacing like he needed to act on his fury but Jamie seemed satisfied with being able to fix things in the here-and-now. His attitude made me reflect on how much worse I'd made things for myself by losing control over Sarah cheating on me with Colin. Maybe a 19 year-old nurse had something to teach me about how to handle trouble. Adding respect to the mix of good things I already felt about Jamie accelerated my sex drive. I moved my legs apart slightly so, if he wanted to, he could take a sneaky peek at my gash and nuts. Some people might have accused me of shafting Andy by offering my pussy to his intended, but if Jamie had any inclination for dick-to-dick I wanted it to be me who was the one who broke him in. He pressed the dressing he was using into the stripes etched into my butt muscle and I could feel the needle-like tingling of a wound being properly cleaned. Since the belt hadn't got between the globes of my behind he had no need to get in there, which I was glad about because him knowing I'd been whipped was one thing, him knowing I'd been fucked was another. Partly to distract him from looking any closer I decided to move on to the next stage of my gameplan. "You know what I reckon, If you got your camera, Andy, the three of us could turn loss into profit and be making pornography out of this." Jamie reacted like a scalded cat, his head darting round in accusation. "You told him?" Andy looked stuck for an answer, his panicked eyes moving from Jamie to me. "I... Uh..." "Don't sweat. It's not like he's shown it to me. I want to get into am-cam too. Does it feel weird? How much do you get?" Jamie did a face of pretend anger. "I knew I'd not be able to trust a fucking taff. That's why they call it welshing I guess. Next thing I know it'll be on the premier screen at Valley Centertainment." He was already half-laughing about another guy knowing he'd wanked on camera, a fact that helped me decide there was nothing I couldn't risk trying with him. He carried on cleaning up the cheeks of my ass. "Seriously, though. I want to do it. Now's the perfect time. My girlfriend moved out this morning, I got a mortgage to pay on postgrad loans. Go get the camera Andy, let's make lots of money." Andy stood up uncertainly, locked in silence by the extent of his hopefulness Jamie would bite the cherry. "What, like, film me while I'm treating you? I'd lose my nurse registration in a split." "No, no. Once you're finished nursing me, mate. You can give me a rub down. Like a coach with a crocked player. People love massage scenes in porn. Bring him something to wear Andy, something a fag would like to see him in. Hurry up." I could tell that far from being shy, Jamie was more than up for it. Maybe mentioning the fact I had a girlfriend had got him over the fact I was basically propositioning him. "You reckon we can work it out together?" "Well... I guess if all I'm doing is massaging you I don't even need to spring wood really. That was the hardest part with Andy. I could definitely use the quick cash. Last time I got paid before we'd even filmed it. I guess porn companies are desperate eh?" I knew for sure that, the shocking state of dick-led dependence Andy was in, he'd have put his house and contents on Ebay to finally get his dream-boy into bed so I just nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's the way they do it. Money up front. You don't mind people seeing you at it?" He thought about it. "What people? None of my friends buy homo dvds. It's a myth male nurses are all gay you know. I don't know any at all. So long as my mum doesn't see it, where's the problem?" We could both hear Andy lumbering around upstairs, dashing to collect his gear so he didn't miss a second of the imminent festival of men-only sex. I watched Jamie as he crouched by my side, tending to the branding Escott's buckle had left. I could understand Andy's hurry. Sure, I'd fix it so he got his share but first off I was going to get mine. Jamie noticed me checking him out and grinned his amazing, cheeky grin. "My woman's gonna be so proud. First she had to tell her folks I'm a nurse now she's gonna have to share me with a dude." He stood up. "You're done. You'll hurt, but you won't die. You reckon you can survive a massage from me?" I smiled broadly back at him, "Yeah, I think I'll cope. You'd better get your kit off." Andy came back with a digital video camera in one hand and a scrap of black cloth in the other. He held it up; it was a pair of Speedos. At the thought of seeing Jamie wearing them I felt my cock swell under me, he'd made a great costume choice. All I had to do was lie watching, occasionally glancing over at Andy to enjoy the sight of both his fixated hunger for Jamie and the size of erection stretching the front of his jeans. Jamie tidied away the first aid box then sighed and began to undress. He kicked off his shoes then began unbelting his trousers. He looked sheepish but he unzipped them and pulled them down without any fuss then yanked his T-shirt off over his head and was suddenly standing there in nothing but a little pair of cotton briefs. The smoothly dented meat of his ass and the tightly packed pouch of his jockeys had the drool collecting in my mouth. I swallowed and watched him glance quickly down the perfect tanned leanness of his buff young physique to make sure everything looked ok so far as he was concerned. He seemed satisfied since, without any more delay he suddenly tugged at his pants and let them drop down his legs so he was fully naked at last. Clearing his throat, Andy passed over the trunks and Jamie bent over to step into them. Almost as soon as it had appeared Jamie's more than ample, dangling cock was hidden again, this time under skin-tight black nylon. He took a second to ruffle his hair the way he liked it then he turned to me. "You ready? We gonna do Take One?" I dogged my eyes down from his Cheshire cat expression over a nice little pair of pecs and washboard belly to where his nuts were clutched tight between his legs. I was ready all right. Of course, the least important aspect of my plan was making a recording of what happened, so there wasn't going to be any acting or even dialogue, except to the extent needed to make it believable for Jamie. The camera was there only to give Andy and me an excuse to jump his bones. Andy would be directing his camera at whatever he fancied most. He panned over the object of his affection, no doubt focusing on the same anatomical details I had. He kept the lens away from the pounded wreck he'd rescued from the playing fields, which was fine with me. Jamie put his hands on my shoulders and began kneading my deltoids. You could tell he'd got confidence from his job for handling the human body. Besides the arousal of being manhandled by him, I began enjoying the warming release of tension in my muscles as it disappeared under his firmly flexing fingertips. I watched Andy filming Jamie as he leaned over me, admiring the unbelievably thick bar of erection my masseur had set throbbing under the cameraman's trousers. "Go lower. Do my ass...as much as you can without having me pass out, that is". "Yes, Boss," he said and spread his hands out over the unbruised areas of my lower back down to the tender redness of my butt. I felt my dick spannering away underneath me, threatening to jack me up as his touch got closer to my fuck zones. If I hadn't had a broader intention, and if I'd been more confident what shape Stuart had left my ass lips in, I would have had Jamie taking his massage right up to my ring. Having him squeeze my scrotum while a couple of fingers from his other hand were ramming my slot would have been really tasty right then but this was more or less business, so I sacrificed my own satisfaction for the bigger picture and I told him I was turning over. I thought he'd be shocked by the supersize dimensions of my maximum strength hardon but if he noticed it at all he obviously didn't want to look at it, concentrating instead on the same upper body areas that Andy had soaped in the bath. More significant, I'd been sure he'd be packing a load big enough to split his swimwear, but when I lifted my hand to check him out I was stunned to find nothing more substantial than a nice set of medium adult privates, definitely in their dormant state. He was comfortable with me touching him, very good, but either he was impotent as apple blossom or he had no sexual interest at all in seeing me turned on. I continued groping Jamie's groin, my thumb rubbing along his large but still spongy tool. When I'd assaulted Colin Wright I'd wanted him to get a hardon because at the time I needed to prove something. Now, I was happy just to have access to such a dazzling lad's bit of kit. I didn't want to advance an argument, I just wanted Jamie to go on letting me touch him so intimately. Part of me had taken a rest from plotting; I looked up at Jamie averting his gaze from my unignorable hardon. I admired him physically and I wanted to get as close to him as I could, including emotionally. I wanted to enter him not just through fucking him but by really being together with him, to possess him in every way possible. I'd been too busy to notice it happening but, at some point, Andy had whacked straight porn on his TV and it was at this that Jamie had fixed his attention. If he was trying to forget I was captain of the men's football squad rather than his girlfriend, I knew that it could help us both. Capitalising on his preoccupation with watching lesbians, I leaned forward to ease down his Speedos and I moved him towards me so I could bring my mouth to his penis. I lifted the warm mass of his member and slid back its hood. He flashed a glance down to see what I was up to but soon went back to watching his dirty bitches while I took my tongue to his knob. The taste of him was as good as the sight of him: the flavour of hot tanned skin and nut sweat. I pressed my tongue over every part of his meat, bathing it in spit until I was sure his dick was as juicy as I could get it. Simultaneously I cupped and lifted his dark blond haired ball bag, getting my fingers behind it to squeeze his perineum. The whole of his prick was in my mouth and pushing down my throat, my hand was stimulating the sexy bridge between his testicles and cunt and yet still, even with my best oral efforts and the help of the hetero sex on tv, Jamie's erection failed to arrive. Maybe it was performance anxiety: like when a big match gets to a good player and he can't even pass, then he struggles and fails do what normally he does naturally, without effort. My own experience was that a man in that state needed the kick up the ass that a sudden challenge presented so I gave up working Jamie with my tongue and lay back where I was before, my own painfully powered up truncheon proudly on show. Jamie clearly knew his obligation to perform, keeping his eyes zeroed in on the glamour dykes to try stimulating his rod, he took his spit soaked weapon and began showing me how he pleasured himself. I enjoyed watching him wank, but I'd decided he needed the challenge of stretching himself. I reached out my arm and pulled him closer, sliding my palm up his back to his neck and then putting pressure on the rear of his head, trying to bend him forwards. Everyone knows the non-verbals for "give us a blow" and Jamie clearly understood what I intended but his soft pink lips stayed well away from my burning fuckstick. I was getting impatient for a development but I knew I couldn't force him if I wanted to keep him around to satisfy Andy, so I turned the grip I had on the back of his head into gentle stroking of his clippered blond mop. While still enjoying the softness of his hair and the strength of his neck I lifted my spare hand and took the paw he'd been using on his flaccid length and put it on my beam. Even this seemed to be expecting too much from him and for a second I worried softcore touching was as far as we were going to get. If Andy had wanted to help nudge Jamie in the right direction he could have come closer but he, too, seemed less interested in filming my stiff one than he had been in getting Andy undressed. Finally, Jamie seemed to accept he was going to have to do something and he began working my shaft between his thumb and two fingers. I felt the temperature in my churning plumbs increase. Moving a hand to caress the warm orb of Jamie's ass I looked at him watching himself providing sexual gratification to another man. Not turning into a pile of ashes like he seemed to expect, he got more committed to it, pushing the broad head of my penis through the circle of skin and allowing the clear fluid of my lube juice to trickle down his fingers. He smeared it around and his fingers glided on me more easily. That felt so good. My own hand pushed into the crevice of his butt grasping his muscly buttock firmly. Jamie upped the speed of his strokes, using his wrist on me in a way that until moment he'd probably only ever done to himself. My own pleasure and excitement increased with the speed, more sticky fluid flowing down to lubricate his hand as he roughly pumped my dick. I wanted more, but this was going to be enough, he was bringing me closer and closer to fulfilment. Whether he was aware of it or not, my finger was on the very brink of pushing up his ringpiece. I let it go on for as long as I could, until I was on the very cusp of drenching him in spooge, then, breathlessly, I told him to stop. If he'd been into it even a little he'd surely have looked at me happily, satisfied with the effect he'd had, but at the first moment he could he jumped away. "Hey! Keep your hand out of my ass! He wasn't even filming that. What you playing at? No funny business, I don't like that stuff." I'd thought I'd been showing him new ways of getting funky but I ended up feeling like I'd taken advantage, like he'd caught me getting too close to enjoying myself. Apparently we were still supposed to be hating this. I felt a mixture of shame and irritation, my cock deflating as I swung my legs off the table and considered what to do next. By this stage I'd expected things to have become organic; that we'd all be playing as a team. Instead, Jamie was giving me evils and Andy seemed pissed off we hadn't got to his part yet. Or maybe he was mad at me for being too gay as well. It was like a half-time reassessment when you're four nil down, one small part of me wanted to call the whole thing off. "You've got to let yourself go, Jamie. I don't like this shit any more than you do but we're not gonna sell a dvd of you looking like you're going to puke. And what's with Mr softy? You have this problem with your girl?" "Fuck off." He flashed genuine anger for a second then flipped back to good-nature again, swallowing the idea my main concern was to coax a classy performance out of him. "Sorry. It's because I don't really know you, mate. It freaks me out you might be flitty for me." "Fair enough. Well, you know for sure Andy's not like that so let's bring him on. Pass us the camera big guy, you're up next." That rallied Andy, he came across and handed over his Sony, then they both turned to me for stage directions, unable to imagine for themselves what two strong, horny young bucks might do together to help each other out. My two porn stars might have had difficulty developing a storyline, but I myself had never had that kind of problem. Telling young men what to do together was not a problem for me either on a football pitch, or in a shag scenario - even if on this particular occasion I wasn't on the field myself. Viewing the two of them standing there clueless, Andy so huge and evidently aroused, Jamie younger, a good foot shorter and naked as the day he was born, I could think of a million ways of combining them. If I wanted to get dodgy I could have had Jamie in black trousers, white shirt and a tie then cast Andy as a horny Dad or Uncle with an appetite for sixth form student incest. Or switching things, I could have had Jamie pretending to hypnotise a happily married giant in order to bend him from heterosexual he-man to cock-sucking fuck tool. Andy could have made sweet Valentines Day love to his best friend or Jamie could have bitch-slapped his enormous buddy into submission. I could have had Jamie in charge or Andy in charge, or both of them tied up and helpless, or the pair of them wrestling to see who got to shaft whom. From the manager's bench the potential formations seemed endless. But out there where it counted, my two-man team were sighing with impatience at the time it was taking for me to tell them what to do. Since spontaneity was beyond them - since even having straight porn on wasn't enough for Jamie to get wood - I decided I wasn't going to try anything adventurous. If Jamie couldn't come up with the goods when another guy was around, he could stay that way, I'd work round it. The outcome I wanted was for Andy to escape his infatuation with Jamie by blasting his frustration either on of, if possible, inside the horny little bastard's arse. That would be his reward for rescuing me. Job done. Whether he then went on to book tickets for Gay Pride or, alternatively, forget he'd ever strayed from his wife and sprogs wasn't my problem. I told them to sit next to each other on the sofa. I did a quick check of the play, record and pause buttons on the camera, then I knelt down and took control of the action. "Right, I got it. You're brothers or best mates or cousins or something. Jamie's inexperienced and he's come to you, Andy, because he reckons there's something wrong with him in the bedroom department and he knows you know a lot of tricks with women." "I do. That's true. Ask anyone" "Piss off, I'm not having something wrong with me. Andy should come to me. I'm the one who's done a porno remember." The troops squabbling about roles was exactly the same thing that happened when you were allocating positions on a football pitch as well. Just like I would on the field, I rose above the banter to get to the implementation. "It doesn't matter a fuck who does what but right now I'm in charge of it so let's just get it done ok?" They were good lads really. Andy sat back with his long legs outstretched while Jamie slumped next to him, idly fiddling with his dick while he watched the TV. There would be no more resistance, they'd accepted I was boss. "I can't get you both in frame. Move closer Jamie, let him put his arm round you, like he's looking after you." Jamie grinned as he nestled himself under the encircling protection of Andy's bear-like limb. Just as he had with me in the bathroom Andy dropped his head closer to Jamie's and I saw instantly what had to come next. "Kiss each other." Jamie shot me a look but I held his stare. "Just shut your fucking eyes and open your mouth. Andy's not bothered are you mate?" No he wasn't. He lifted his hand to Jamie's jaw and turned the guy's face towards himself. As their lips met I felt a horny surge coming up from my balls: just two guys kissing could look so dick-stretchingly sweet. t first, Jamie seemed determined to keep his lips locked together and his mind on pulling out but Andy had an agenda of his own, he wasn't going to let satisfaction slip away. Jamie's stubbornness melted as he closed his eyes and allowed Andy's hand to sweep into his hair pulling him closer. I zoomed in on Jamie's mouth as it opened to Andy's tongue. He was letting himself be snogged by a bloke. Once I had that down, I drew back to capture Andy capitalising on his sudden advantage. He wrapped both his arms round the naked nineteen-year-old and made out like he wanted the two of them to fuse together. Their soft lips were silent, but Andy's deep groans of contentment were easily loud enough to for the camera's mic to pick up. Whether Andy's hunger for him was beginning to frighten Jamie or, more likely, I thought, turn him on, the bare-assed straight boy eventually wrestled Andy off him and looked towards me for the next thing to do. Andy sat back panting, looking down at the floor like he was trying not to let anything distract him from the taste of Jamie's mouth, the touch of Jamie's skin. I broke his daydream. "Wake up, mate. We need to strip you down." Jamie chortled at Andy's obvious reluctance to leave himself as exposed as we were, to have the aroused state of his currently hidden dick on show. "Come on, big guy, get your pecs out for the lads. Fair's fair, I had to." Andy stood up and I filled the viewfinder with the obscene extension of bench prodding up under his jeans. It was time to reveal to the world how huge a family man's excitement could be for a lad like Jamie. He fumbled with the buttons that were straining over the bar tenting his crotch. When he was ready, he looked at me, sighed slightly and shoved his trousers down so that, for a second, that mighty erection was covered in nothing but the Lycra of his builder's briefs. Finally, even they were gone as he peeled them down and left his mammoth nuts and shaft on show. One time when we were together in the pub I'd asked Andy if his family jewels were in proportion to his height. He's told me when he'd suddenly shot up as a teenager, he'd begun dreading changing for PE because other boys would be so curious about the extent of his development. You could see how he was still shy about showing off such the huge piece of meat slung between his thighs. Refusing to let him sit down and hide it, I dropped to my knees in front of him and kept my finger on the zoom control until I was sure I'd captured every amazing millimetre of the biggest boner I'd ever seen. "Ok you can sit back down. Get comfortable. Put your arm back round Jamie, nice and cosy. Jamie you give him a bit of a rub." Although Jamie's eyes showed he was as fascinated by Andy's monster hardon as Andy's mates had been at school, he didn't seem that interested in copping a feel. "Get on with it, man. You touched mine, you can touch his." Glancing at Andy as if for permission, the cockshy heterosexual finally stretched out his hand and took hold of that remarkable thick length of dick. I felt my own balls pulling tighter as I both watched and listened to Andy's glossy weapon being worked on by his mate. Andy's face was a picture; a mixture of gratitude and ecstasy mixed up with an attempt to hide his happiness so he could still play the straight guy who'd gone gay for pay. I knew Jamie's firmly stroking hand on his stem was exactly the hand relief he'd daydreamed about on his construction site. For his part, Jamie was not only accepting Andy's gradually tightening embrace around his shoulders while he worked the monster, he was also managing to look at Andy's dick. Who could blame him? The thing was as thick as a beer bottle and the scent of it, the musk of hot builder's dick, began to blend with aftershave, sweat and body spray to produce the smell of clean, fit men that I loved so much about locker rooms. "Ok. Ease up. We don't want that thing going off before we're finished." Jamie released Andy's cock and they both sat back waiting while I panned the camera over their serious faces, tender little nipples, tanned, flat stomachs and exposed pricks. I noticed Jamie's knee and upper arm were tight against Andy's. He was getting used to being physically close to another guy, but his good-looking young cock stayed soft. It was time to make command decisions. "You're not gonna get it up are you mate? Which means we're going to have to get Andy to top you." "What's that mean?" "I'll tell you later. At the moment I want you to get face down over Andy's knee so he can explore the delights of your ass." "Fucking gross!" Even Andy looked unsure and I thought for a second maybe I'd already got to the stage I'd planned and gone too far. But then, what do you know, Jamie was standing up, Andy was bracing his legs and a second later my viewfinder was full of the peachy twin orbs of Jamie's backside. It didn't take a word from me to have Andy's hand stroking down that smooth golden back to the cheeky firmness of champion-class buns. "Think of it like a pair of tits but tighter and with a pussy in the middle." Andy glanced at me with a faraway look, obviously never having considered the appeal of another blokes' hindquarters. It had been about an hour since I'd arrived at Andy's house. Now here I was watching him - no, filming him - lovingly caress another dude's butt. Keeping the camera on whatever Andy's big strong hand was soothing over, I moved my line of sight from behind it to try judging from Andy's expression how much further he'd let me push him. As recently as the day before I'd have pushed Andy aside and used all my skills to get a stalk-on out of Jamie and so decide he was as queer as I was. But not now, because now I knew and accepted nothing I could do would change the fact he was straight, as unlikely to enjoy getting fucked as I was to settle down with a wife and kids. Not that that was going to stop me trying to get Andy a ride up his heterosexual man-hole, but I was going to have to take into account it definitely wasn't going to be something he wanted. So I'd take it slow. I moved closer to the two boys, holding the camera away from my face as I crouched down and, splaying my fingers, eased Jamie's perfect glutes apart. There was the hairy little eye of his anus. He had his head craned round trying to see what I was up to, understandably worried about what he was putting on show. I wet my middle finger with my mouth and pushed it back into the cleavage of his crack. Circling the tender rim I could feel his lips were tight but gentle probing was going to get results. Andy continued to rub Jamie's back in friendly circles, unconsciously relaxing him while I dabbed and manipulated at his gash. "Wow, you're cool Jamie. Not many lads would have the balls for this. Seems like you're used to it. Your girlfriend do it to you in the sack this way?" "Mind your own. Just so long as I don't have to put anything in my mouth." "If I promise you we won't do that. And Andy guarantees you five hundred quid, how far would you go? How much courage you got, mate?" As I spoke I pushed at his entrance and felt it give, the tip of my finger was in him. I twisted it round and began to push some more. "I bet you can do it, Jamie. Go all the way. Just the once. So you know. So you can say you've been there. I bet Andy can get you a thousand, no bother. Think of that, six months rent free, just for putting your mind on something else while you take it like a man." I nodded urgently at Andy, passed the camera over and he filmed me while I dropped my head to Jamie's behind, stuck my tongue out and licked around my finger to lubricate it more. The combination of pressing finger and soft wet tongue did the trick, I got down to the knuckle and, Jesus, he tasted sweet. I'd have loved to have hung around and swabbed my mouth around his nuts but this was Andy's treat not mine so I took the camera back from him and eased my finger out his mate. Jamie had said nothing, but his head was down and he hadn't moved either. Not wanting to go further than Andy wanted I checked my progress. "You reckon that guy we're making this thing for would pay a grand?" "Uh, easy. Yes he would." Then, more quietly, I asked if he had any KY. He said me it was up in the bathroom so I told them I'd be back and bombed upstairs. I knew leaving them risked their anxiety wrecking the whole match, but I would have been ok with that. More and more I'd realised I was definitely doing this for Andy. I'd had a rock hard dick for an hour but my heart wasn't in what I was up to. Catching sight of myself in the mirror on the bathroom cabinet I felt the absence of what would once have motivated me: the drive to prove that I wasn't different by making every other man admit he felt the same way. Closing the cabinet I looked at myself again. I was different. I was gay. I felt sad but peaceful. It was all right. I turned round and dropped back downstairs, my erection still solid. In the study the boys were sitting side by side again and at first I thought they must've agreed I'd pushed them as far as they were going to go. But Jamie smiled up at me. "Let's get this party started." "You're sure? No one's forcing you." "My wallet's forcing me. Fuck it. You should try everything once I guess. And at least I'll know I didn't just take it, I took the biggest in Sheffield." All three of us looked at Andy's awesome extent of stiffy. It looked like a club; easily bigger than the one I'd taken from Stuart Jenks. And it was going to be Jamie's first. The guy had guts. "We'll take it nice and slow, Andy, ok? No losing control and hurting him." "No. Definitely not." On the point of forgetting to bother with the camera, at the last second I grabbed it and asked Jamie to kneel on the sofa leaning over the back, ass upwards. Andy stood and looked towards me edgily. I gave him a wink. He was going to get the ride of his life. "You need a condom." "Oh, yeah." Andy searched among the clutter at his desk and ripped open a Durex then rolled it down his cock. I filmed him doing it because it looked horny, a giant man rubbering up to slip his mate a length. Panning over to Jamie I caught a sweet look of concentration as he tried out different ways of bracing himself for the pounding he was about to receive. Confident that neither of them would know their need for lubrication, one-handedly I uncapped and squirted the lube I'd found onto my fingertips then went over and applied it to Jamie's ass. He turned round, smiling, looking so buff and so cute it was difficult to resist offering another thousand pounds to dick him myself. His penis was still soft but he'd relaxed, with the help of the jelly I was able to get two fingers inside him and feel the hot clutch of his muscly cheeks squeezing around me. Andy's rigid prick was going to get exactly the treatment a prick was made for: the wet grip of someone else's body milking it to climax. I moved to stand side on to Jamie, allowing Andy to approach, his sheathed truncheon throbbing with each beat of his heart. Precum drooled from my own cock as I thought about spit-roasting Jamie, getting it down his throat while Andy fucked him, but I knew there was no chance. Andy stepped even closer, forcing his cock down towards his mate's ringpiece. Jamie lowered his head, frowning hard as he felt the warm, heavy weight of Andy's massive shaft bearing down, seeking entry to his ass. I super-zoomed in on the blunt, broad head of Andy's cock probing down and in, gradually forcing open the small eye at the heart of Jamie's butt. I heard Jamie swear and looked away from the camera to watch the little guy grabbing the sofa cushions as he sweated over losing his second cherry. Andy took his time but he wasn't turning back, he pressed on, stretching Jamie's lips wider and wider, forcing Jamie's ass to swallow him. With an inch of his slippy thickness inside Jamie I told him to stop. "Now pull back again a bit." Andy looked like he was about to lose it; as if at any second his excitement might dominate and have him banging Jamie's rectum till he bled. But he did what I said and I got an outstanding shot of the expanded anal ring encircling Andy's knob. Then, going deaf to any advice I had, he thrust down again, dipping the whole first third of his organ into the tight heat of Jamie's chute. Seeing his animal appetite for pleasuring his prick I envied Andy's wife. Both he and Jamie moved from gasping to half-yelled groans as they joined into one. But it wasn't going to last. Andy let nature take over and heaved forward, burying his shaft full-length into Jamie's virgin ass. He was going for broke. Every muscle of his enormous body tensed hard as he spasmed months' worth of horn for Jamie's handsome youth deep into his fuck buddy's bowels. Comprehensively deflowered, shagged so he would stay shagged for months to come, Jamie's arms gave way and he slumped forward over the back of the sofa, a tear of effort rolling down his cheek. It had been over in less than sixty seconds, but I guess neither of them would forget that minute for the rest of their lives. I don't know how much of what happened next I imagined, and how much was really there to see, but almost instantly things changed. Jamie was angry about Andy hurting him, his face snarled up with rage, "Take the fucker out, you bastard. If you've split me I'll gut you." Andy wasn't bothered, he could have thrown Jamie out the door without effort, but he squeezed his spunk-soaked cock out and snapped off the sheath, chucking both it and its contents in the bin. I could hardly believe how quickly the beauty and sexuality of what they'd done had vanished, and it didn't take much longer before both of them were targeting their straight-boy shame and remorse at me. Andy told me to forget the filming and get dressed. Jamie pulled on his clothes refusing to make eye contact. "I want my money." "I'll give it you." "I want it now." "Ok, ok." It was an ugly situation but I didn't give a fuck. In fact it was hard to keep from laughing; not at them but at the overwhelming realisation I'd had as I'd watched Andy come in Jamie. I didn't know where it had come from and I didn't stop to think, but suddenly I knew both that I had to leave Immediately and - with full confidence - the place where I was going to go, the only place I wanted to be. Stamping upstairs to fetch a cheque for his grumpy ex-lover, Andy ignored me as I called to him that I'd be on my way. That, too, didn't bother me, I was following a different path now; one that left Andy, Jamie, Jenks, Escott, John Royal, Seb, Chris, Colin, Sarah and even my best mate Nick way behind. I slammed Andy's front door shut and set off. Outside in the softening heat of middle evening the choice I'd made seemed so obvious to me now I couldn't understand why I'd hesitated before. As my conviction grew stronger, my stride lengthened but I wasn't rushing. There was no need to rush, I could relax, everything was going to be fine. No, I wasn't rushing - but at the same time - I couldn't wait to arrive.