A WARNING. This story is a work of fiction, and none of the characters or places described exist, and therefore bear no relation to anyone alive or dead. The story contains explicit details of a sexual nature and if this might offend you, please do not read it, or if in so doing you will break any law that applies to you wherever you may be.
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ALFIE by Rafael Henry
`What are you boys doing today?' asks Mrs Kelly. It's just before nine and there's a pleasant smell of bacon frying. I'm hungry. I answer her question.
`I'm not sure Mrs Kelly. Maybe a walk around Windsor, or the river. What do you think Max?'
I was standing in the sitting room and I had an album of photos in my hand. I often enjoyed looking through all the photos of the trips and activities that we have taken part in since I joined the school. Mr Kelly always kept an archive of all that stuff. I found a couple of pages which included some of Jamie and us when we were on a trip to Italy last year at half term. We were camping by a lake not far from Sienna. Most of the pictures were of us swimming, and several of us out of the water, playing games. We always tried to pitch our tents away from people so no one bothered with trunks. There was a shot of Jamie, full length, smiling into the camera and holding an insect in the palm of his hand. I was standing next to him with an arm around his shoulder. Max came up to see what I was looking at.
`Max, here's a nice one of me and Jamie.'
I held the page open so he could absorb the image of the nude boys, one of which he had never seen, but thanks to my descriptive powers, he knew already.
We never worried about Mr Kelly and his camera, and when he chose to photograph us, and the many boys that came before us, captured on film and now in closed albums safely away on shelves, to be opened for returning boys maybe years later to perhaps remind them of happy times long past? There are several photos of me in the latest volume which is kept out on table, and I suspect many more of all of us that we will never see. We were never really aware of his presence on those trips, as we ate, slept, rolled about in the grass fighting, swam and lazed about in the sunshine, unencumbered by anything much...just rejoicing in the innocence of our boyhood. We would travel in the school minibus with all the kit stacked on top. I can remember every one of those marvellous excursions.
Breakfast was substantial enough for us not to have to worry about lunch. Mrs Kelly informed us that they were out most of the day seeing friends in Maidenhead. They have a boat apparently, so it was going to be lunch `on the river' as she put it, but we were to help ourselves to anything from the fridge as and when. The river is the Thames of course, and there are paths both sides that go almost its entire length which makes for excellent walking under the oaks that line the banks casting their dappled shade.
Max and I split the `Times' between us. All of us are expected to keep up to date with current affairs, and to be informed enough to discuss the issues of the day. By the time we had consumed everything it had to say, the Kelly's had left for Maidenhead. Max stood up and took a wander around the sitting room. Against the far wall there is a full length fitted bookshelf. It's always interesting to check out what sort of books people collect. The Kelly's collection is eclectic...paperback lightweight novels all the way through to dusty old bound volumes of Churchill's memoirs and the like. I watched Max from my easy chair, as he stretched upwards to pull down another book. It was a book on photography. I hadn't asked Max what his sixth form study focussed on, but I guessed it was arts based. As he reached up, a pleasing gap appeared between his pale khaki shorts and his polo shirt. I had that feeling again. He had woken me this morning, very gently, by means of a hand on my shoulder. We had left it a little late for anything other than a rapid shower if we weren't to be late. I couldn't help feeling that I had been...I don't know...sort of cheated somehow.
Max had worked his way along the shelves to the far end. I watched as his arm rose to pull the top of a black bound book off the top shelf. He stood and opened it. There was nothing on the cover apart from some tiny gold lettering at the bottom. When he opened it, I could see the backs of the pages were blank. I knew what it was. It was a drawing book. Max said nothing as he stood turning the pages one by one. He seemed transfixed.
`What's that Max?'
He didn't answer.
`Can I see?'
He just stood there examining each page. I could see his eyes move up and down the pages, his face expressionless.
I was sitting at one end of the settee, my arm along the back.
`Come on Max, what is it?'
He walked over with the book open in his hand and sat down next to me. He handed me the open book. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It was unmistakeable. It was Max.
`It's you Max. It is you isn't it?'
It was indeed him. The book was crammed full of drawings of Max, and a few of another boy who looked a little younger. Max said his name was Henry. They were all precisely dated...even the time of day, and the location which in most of them was `studio, Blakeney'. The vast majority of them had Max with nothing on at all. Some of them were of him standing in various positions, like facing you, sideways, and lots of back views. I liked them the best because...well, because he looks incredibly beautiful from that particular angle. There were back views of him lying down too...quite a few of them, some showing everything if you can imagine that. There was one of him lying flat on his back and seen from the side with his little winkle sticking up in a nice curve forwards, not stiff or anything, just poking up with the bit of skin hanging off the front. I like that one. There were two or three of Henry with his pants on...skinny little things pulled right up so they cut right into his bottom. There was one of both of them lying down and Max had his arm over Henry looking like he was looking after him or something. They both had their pants on in that one. There one that took the whole page up which is my favourite. Max is lying on his back with one leg raised and off to one side slightly. His hand is resting on his tummy and his willy is lying to one side just below his hand. You can see right along his legs from about Max's knees upwards. His balls look like two little eggs in the little bag of wrinkled skin, and then this nice tube thing going off to the side. He's drawn his bottom bit too. It's like a shadow with this darker bit right in the middle. It's a bit rude, that one, but I really like it. I kept that page open for ages.
`You like that one then Alfie?'
`Umm, I do. Do you?'
`Yes. I remember the morning he did that.'
`He? Who drew these Max?'
`It's obvious isn't it? They're Raf's drawings. He did all of these.'
`Is that what you call him?'
`Yes. I was about your age when he first appeared up in Norfolk. He had a year off from his school in Essex...a sabbatical I think they call it. Then he had to go back after Christmas because the person who was covering his year off just quit...just like that, so he had to go back. He met my mother somewhere around Blakeney while he was painting outdoors. They became friends. That's how I knew him. I liked him and he was kind to me. We went running in the mornings. He'd stay overnight sometimes. That's where my little brother Mike came from. Then my mum met Ana.'
`Who is Ana?'
`She was my mum's partner...still is I suppose, but she doesn't live at ours now. She did for about two years.'
`So all these drawings were done while he was in Norfolk then?'
`Most of them. He did more after I went to board at Norwich. He'd come up for weekends to Blakeney and stay...until I was about fifteen I suppose. Then he met Mrs Kelly and they got married. They still come up occasionally...not very often though. I'm probably in one of the other books up there on the shelf. Don't you think you look now like I did then?'
I had to agree with Max. There are some definite similarities.
`It's really weird seeing these again.'
`You were really beautiful then. I'm not surprised he wanted to draw you.'
`So I've changed have I?'
`No! Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You haven't changed...you're still...'
Max stopped me there.
`I'm only joking Alfie! You knock spots off me looking like you do now.'
`Yes. Right now.'
I'm looking through the drawings, and they're having an effect on me, and I'm sure Max can see. I lean back a little so that my bottom slides forward and I open my legs slightly. I want to make sure Max can see that I'm excited by the drawings. Max leans towards me so that he can get a closer sight of the pages as I turn them. He puts his arm behind me and I can feel his thumb behind my neck. I stop looking at the book and turn my face towards his. He's looking at me.
`So you like them Alfie?'
`Yes. I wish I knew you then.'
`You know me now. Won't that do? I'm the boy in drawings...still the same boy.'
`I'm feeling a bit weird Max.'
`Umm, so am I.'
His arm moved around my shoulder and the slight pressure that he applied was the signal I wanted. I moved closer to him and rested my head on his chest. He put his hand under my chin and lifted my face up to his.
Don't get me wrong. I don't usually go in for kissing boys. Pak and I have had several goes at it, in a playful way, and there was a kid a couple of years ago I met who wanted to so I did...and now Max. We did it for a couple of minutes I suppose and it was different to the other times. With Pak it was just a bit of fun, just like Pak really. With Max just now...well, I just wanted to get hold of his cock really...while we were doing it. I didn't but I can see he's hard, and he's not the only one that is round here.
Max is gentle by nature, so he didn't push it with me. It was nice what we did...nothing too deep or anything like that, but I did feel his tongue on mine. I love his mouth, and the smell of his face too. His hair is just long enough to get hold of it and pull it a bit. He liked that, and when I tried to bite his ear. I did bite it, lots of times but only gently. He told me I was `a sexy little boy'. He's right, I am.
I can feel his lips sliding across mine and it's the most lovely feeling ever. I have one hand behind Max's head so he can't escape, and with my other hand I have managed to get my shorts undone at the top and open enough, I think, for him to feel me. I can't get my pants down but hopefully he'll go inside them. My cock is so hard it almost hurts.
I find his hand and pull it down to where I want it...where every boy my age wants to be felt when he's really in the mood, like I am now. Max breaks our kiss, looks down, and undoes his shorts at the top. I'm watching as first the waistband, and then his cock head pushing up against the stretched white fabric is revealed.
`What's that Max?'
Just where Max's cock is pressing against his pants, there's a large wet patch which has made the material transparent and slightly pink in colour where the underside of his erection is showing through.
`Don't you know what that is Alfie?'
Max explained. I knew about it, but I had never seen it. I had now. He pulled his pants down lower so all of his cock was visible.
`Squeeze it Alfie. Start at the base and work upwards, right up to the top.'
I did. A fair amount came out of the tip and over my thumb.
`Is that your sperm Max?'
`No. It's what makes you slippery when you want to go inside someone.'
`Oh, I know.' The human biology lesson was beginning to make sense.
Max spread some of the clear liquid over his lips.
`This is what I do with it. It's nice.'
I went on squeezing and more came out. I used my middle finger and applied the viscous substance to my lips. It is nice...different, but nice. The taste of it lingers.
Max drew his foreskin back over the head of his cock. With a finger he spread more of the exuding liquid over the dark pink of the rounded shaped head and then slid the skin forwards again.
`See? That makes the skin slide around the top so it doesn't get sore when we do it. Clever isn't it.'
Now that is clever.
`Are we going to do it Max?' But I wondered exactly what it was in our particular case, if anything.
He didn't answer the question, but stood up and put his shirt back in his shorts, and took the book back to shelf, and took another one out. It looked exactly like the other one but older. He sat back next to me, and I leaned into him. He began turning the pages.
`These are interesting. Judging by the date on this one, he must have been at school when he did these. I vaguely remember seeing them. Yes, I'm sure he said they were kids at his school.'
`Look, they've got names under them.'
Simon, Robert, Edward and Olaf. They were the models. They weren't as good as the other ones we looked at, but they were still really nicely done. I love Olaf...he looks really nice...and Robert...wow! I wouldn't mind having him in the bed next to me. There was one of him with a big willy too. Amazing! Fancy letting yourself be drawn like that?'
`Would you let someone draw you like that Max?'
I wanted a reaction.
`Yea, why not? It's natural isn't it? Would you mind?'
`No I don't think so. It nearly happened to me once.'
`I model for the Art Club. Usually I wear swimming trunks or pants, but sometimes I'm nude. I was lying on my tummy one evening and they told me to turn over. I had a stiffie, but no one laughed. They told me to stand up. I looked down and it was sticking straight out. I went bright red.'
`I should think so too. Can I draw you like that?'
`Yes, if you want to. Then what can I do to you?'
`Whatever you want to.'
`Yes, if you want to.'
`Can I sit on you?'
`Sit on me?'
`Umm...with our shorts off?'
I had my knees either side of his tummy as I lowered myself down. Max let me undo his shorts but he wouldn't let me take his pants off. He told me to keep mine on too. It was the Kelly's sitting room. He couldn't do `rude' things in someone else's sitting room.
I had my hands on Max's shoulders as I lowered myself down onto Max's hard cock so that it pressed against my bottom. He brought his face nearer mine and kissed me gently on my mouth. We stayed like that for ages.
I began to playfully bite his ear and neck...very gently. When I started to do that Max began to move his hips against me. I reach behind me and pull my pants down below bottom so that I could feel him better. It felt both hot and cold, like wet, on my bottom.
`Get up Alfie...just for a second.'
I lifted myself off Max. With both hands he slid his pants down and onto his thighs. I lowered myself down again and I felt his skin on my skin. His slow rhythmic movement of his hips became faster as I pressed myself onto him, hard. I could feel his cock sliding against my little boy hole. Max is gripping my hips now and I can feel wet around my anus. Max is breathing fast now as he holds me hard. I bury my face in his neck as I'm lifted up and down for what seems like ages. Now he's stopping...no he's not...yes, he's stopped now.
Oh yes, he has stopped.
We had a minor panic because of the sofa. Max had to keep his legs tight together while I saw to things...first and foremost my bottom, and then all the affected bits of him. Max stood up and checked himself before pulling everything up and tucking his still partly erect cock into his pants. I still had the unrestricted evidence of an unsatisfied lust in my shorts. Max checked the sofa for any evidence of what had just happened and mercifully it was unmarked. I had folded my underwear now cold to the touch, in the places that had absorbed Max's cum, into a neat package and held it. Holding the last of the black sketchbooks we had perused, he looked at my closed fist.
`Sorry about that Alfie. I didn't mean that to happen.'
`Umm, and that's the second pair I think...isn't it? I was rather hoping it wouldn't have been necessary.'
`So what does that mean then?'
`The door isn't closed to you Max...the gates to the castle?'
`The floodgates you mean?'
`Hopefully.' I said, relaxing into the corner of the sofa.
We laughed together. Above everything else that has taken place since Max's arrival on Friday afternoon, I love being with him. He's funny and sensitive to how I'm thinking. Max lay down beside me.
I turned my head towards his.
`What are you thinking Max?'
`I'm thinking about how nice you are Alfie. Is that ok?'
`That's ok. Are you sorry?'
`You know...doing stuff together.'
`No, not if you're not.'
`Good. I hope I didn't go too far just now?'
`No. You can go further if you want to. Do you?'
We talked about that subject considering all the practicalities. With Pak it had been easy because of his small size. Basically his totally rigid little thing slips into me so easily, it's like falling off a log...only a lot nicer. The result is such a lovely feeling as he does it to me, my hands around him as he tries so hard to satisfy me, his hot little body on mine, hair wet, our flesh sliding together in the humidity. When he's finished I hold him to me and hug him hard. Pak will then roll me over and position himself between my legs and finish me his way.
It's not going to be so easy with Max. He was a bit cagy about the idea because I'm so young, according to him. Bollocks to that. I'm going to have him that way if I possibly can, and I reckon under extreme temptation, I'll have him. Obviously he's considerably bigger down there than Pak, who frankly couldn't be much smaller, bless him, and I don't want the first two inches thank you...I want everything Max has got. He looks to me to about the length of a fifteen centimetre ruler, at least, possibly more. Crikey. That could take a bit of accommodating couldn't it? What on earth will that feel like?
We lay on the sofa for ages, every so often I'd have another question, and every so often I'd pull his head towards me for the umpteenth time and plant a juicy kiss on his mouth. Every time I thought about it, and of course all the way through it and beyond, my cock felt like it was made of...something fairly solid. I had never realised what an incredible turn on kissing is. Max recognized that I was getting myself into a bit of a state.
`You seem a bit agitated. Is there something I can do to help?'
I guided his hand onto my very erect penis. He kept his hand there.
`I thought that you might want to play tonight...in bed?'
`I do Max, but...'
`You can't wait that long? Is that it?'
He undid my shorts and opened them. I still had my pants I had used on him earlier in my fist, so willy sprung up as soon as he was released. Max whispered in my ear...
`I'd like to touch you where Pak likes to go. Is that ok?'
I shut my eyes and waited. A few moments later I felt his finger pressing against my bottom. His finger felt slippery. I imagined it was Pak. He was inside me quickly, and then he withdrew two or three times. Each time the movement felt easier until I felt his one finger was completely inside me.
It was the combination of his mouth and the other thing that he did not stop doing. I know I felt him come out of me and then go back in with more. He was so far inside me. I couldn't believe how intense it all felt. I don't know how long it was...not that long...when it all got too much for me to bear any longer.
Having held me on, or close to the brink for what seemed like ages, he finally let me come.
He took my head in his hands as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I couldn't do anything. I felt my tummy for any wetness there. There was nothing. I needed to know.
`Umm, you did.'
`Yes I did.'
`What was it like Max? Was it ok?'
`It was perfect Alfie.'
About ten, we set off across the playground and down the tarmac pathway to spend some time at Swallows. We both needed the facilities in the wet room. I watched Max shower from my vantage point, seated and soothed by warm water. I suppose he's not that much taller than me, but far better developed of course, in every way. I watched the water run off the end of his penis, and soap bubbles clinging to his balls. He turned around to do his feet, white bottom nicely revealed in all its hairless detail I might add. I don't know what he was thinking about, but by the time he had turned round again to face me, he was bigger. Max is seventeen years old and I'm thirteen. Is that so strange? I've known him for less than twenty four hours and we've done stuff together, and I'm sure that's not the end of it, at least I hope not. Looking at him naked, and just a few feet away from me, is making me want him again, and now. I'm fascinated by his cock. Max is washing under his arms and he's smiling at me as I sit here. There's more of the head of his penis showing now and it's definitely pointing forwards now.
Max has turned the shower off and he's drying himself, and as he works the towel across his back, his cock bounces up and down. It's long now, but not completely hard. Not yet. I beckon him over to where I'm sitting. He walks over and stands in front of me. I reach forward and place my fingers under his balls. They feel heavy. These are the things that make his sperm. Max opens his legs wider and that's a signal I know. I push my hand between his legs until I touch his anus. I press into it. I move my head nearer until I can feel the rounded form touch my lips. I put my tongue under it as my mouth encloses the bulbous head. I feel Max's hands on my head. I play with him with the very tip of my tongue. I want to taste him again. I squeeze him hard from his balls in an upwards movement again. My tongue waits for the taste. There it is. I recognize the taste. Then Max stops me. I know it's too soon.
`Max, have you ever been to Runnymede?'
`No. That's the Magna Carta isn't it...where it was signed?'
Indeed it was, in the year 1215. You can't go to school here and not know that.
We had finished in the wet room, and dressed. Max had to borrow underwear from the cupboard. I was running short so he took a pair of Simon's. He wouldn't miss one pair from the pile. They were a bit on the small side but Max looked interesting in them, shall we say. The lady had been to change all the sheets and take the rest of our laundry from the hampers outside each room. At the same time she brings back last week's, sorts it all out and puts it all in the individual boys' piles of stuff. Absolutely everything has to be marked with our names. Max had expressed a desire to see the other rooms in Swallows. The room next to mine is called Tern. He opened the linen cupboard and looked at the sheet of four photographs of the resident boys who were approximately a year younger than us. I saw him focussing on one of them in particular...a boy called Allen Hampton. I thought he might pick him out so I offered a bit of information.
`That's Allen. He's our star runner.'
`And a swimmer too by the look of it.'
`Yes, a swimmer too. Some people have it all. He's very bright as well which is rather annoying.'
`Hmm. Is this his pile?'
Max had his hand on Allen's stuff.
`Yes. Not hard to tell he's an athlete is it?'
`No. You'd look good in these Alfie.'
I slipped off the shorts I was wearing and replaced them with a pair of Allen's sleek running shorts. Allen's quite big for his age and they fitted...more or less.
`How's that Max?' I asked, turning full circle with my tongue in my cheek.
`Perfect.' He said, smiling...
Max had picked out a running sleeveless singlet with a broad dark blue band around the chest.
`I look like I've just stepped off the four forty track Max.'
Max didn't need any reminding about the Magna Carta. There's a small monument in the park where it was supposed to have been signed by the stroppy King John and the stroppy barons. It's about a ten minute walk from here. Max wanted to see it. The Kelly's often bring the weekend boys down here, and then on for a stroll along the Thames towards Old Windsor. With the temperature in the high seventies, there were tons of people about enjoying the weather. The ground smelt warm and green had returned to the neatly trimmed grass due to the recent rain storms we had had. We hadn't talked much as we made our way through the park, but I knew what we were both thinking. Occasionally our arms had touched as we walked side by side. That slight contact sent a warm feeling through my body. I like Max...I like him a lot.
We sat on a bench to survey the scene. We watched two boys playing football...two brothers probably. One of the boys miskicked the ball and it rolled towards us, coming to rest near Max's feet. The elder of the two boys ran up towards us, turned and picked up the ball.
`You could have kicked that back for them couldn't you Max?'
`I could have, but it's more fun making him come and get it isn't it?'
Max was right. It's way more fun.
A minute or two later the same thing happened, only this time the ball ended up by my feet. I picked up the ball and held it, and waited. The elder boy walked towards me obviously expecting me to throw the ball to him. When I failed to comply, he came nearer and stopped with his hands on his hips, his face a mixture of annoyance and doubt. He looked about ten or maybe eleven. I wanted to hear his voice. Then the words `can I have the ball please' came out. It wasn't a demanding tone...much more conciliatory...without any sense of pleading. His voice sounded like he looked.
`Come on then, come and get it.'
I held the ball in both hands towards him. He walked the last few feet and motioned to take the ball from me. I didn't let it go. He stood in front of me.
`Please can I have it?'
`Yes, if you tell me your name...and how old you are.'
`If I do, can I have the ball?'
`Yes, but only if you do.'
`Simon, and I'm eleven.'
I gave the ball to him and watched him run off with it. I looked sideways at a disapproving Max.
`That wasn't very nice Alfie, was it.'
`No, not really.'
`Go and apologize then, you mean so and so. I'm not sure I want to be friends with you now.'
I stood up and walked over to the boy...to Simon. He turned and looked at me, expecting the worst maybe.
`I'm sorry Simon.' I said, and smiled at the two eyes looking back at me.
We arrived at the river path, pale brown, and gritty under my sandals. I could hear the rustling leaves in the oaks...I think they're oaks...and the lapping of the Thames against the bank as another boat passed, its motor almost silent, gliding forwards and disturbing two ducks in its way. The birds skittered off with a rapid beating of wings and general splashing. I felt a wave of panic sweep over me.
`We are friends aren't we Max?'
He stopped and looked at me.
`Of course, so long as you want to be. You do don't you?'
There was no one in our vicinity, so I found his hand, discretely. He squeezed it reassuringly and let it go. We were standing very close. I put my arm around his back and looked up at him.
`I do want to be Max. Do you really mean it?'
`Yes, I really mean it Alfie.'
A group of youths were approaching, four of them. One of them sniggered something as they passed.
There are lots of things that I can be confident about, but at the same time I'm always wondering about myself. Mr Kelly always says that boys our age naturally worry about who they are....or what they are. I often feel like that. It's weird because I can't remember what it was like before Max came, or what it would be like if Max wasn't here. I have to be careful what I say to him now because I don't want to frighten him. I've always had strong feelings about things, and people too. Pak once told me that he loved me. I thought it funny at the time, but later I realised that, in my own way, I love him too. I know I can love lots of people.
Max said this morning that he needed to get something when we went out this afternoon. He didn't say exactly what it was but I'm not completely thick, and I think I know what it is. There's a small Tesco supermarket in Old Windsor. I left him to it. He came out about five minutes later with something he was in the process of putting in his shorts pocket.
`That was lucky. They had a self-service checkout.'
Ah, so I'm right.
We walked back down to the river and the whole way there I had a desperate urge to put my arm around him. I feel so proud of him I can't tell you, and I want to do things with him that show him how I feel. At one point I pulled my running vest out of my shorts so it covered me, it was that bad. Max noticed.
`Why have you done that Alfie, you scruffy oik? Put it back in immediately.'
I laughed. As if he didn't know.
`Sorry Sir'. I replied with a heavy emphasis on the `Sir'.
`That's better.' Max says, looking me up and down.
On the way he asked me to walk in front of him for a while. I know why. I've often got myself behind someone for the same reason, like at lunch time at school, in the playground or somewhere. That's why he made that boy Simon come and collect his ball from him, and make him pick it up in front of him. That's why I wouldn't give Simon his ball back. He was beautiful...dark hair and dark blue eyes. Max's are greenish I think, and nice brown hair, and not too short. Mine's quite long and much lighter than Max's...sort of very blond in places, and a bit darker elsewhere. Max is quite slim too, so he looks great in his long shorts. I'm thinking about those drawings we looked at, with him undressed. No wonder Mr Kelly wanted to draw him like that. I'm going to ask Max about it.
Max didn't study Art at school, but he told me he's quite interested in it. He said his best subject is English. He has a place at Exeter to `read' English. That's what you're supposed to say apparently...not do, but read. How funny. We found another vacant bench by the river. I stretched out my legs.
`That looks weird doesn't it Max.'
`My legs. They're all brown apart from these bits.'
`You don't normally wear shorts that short Alfie.'
`We do for PE and Games...anyway, you made me wear these.'
`So do you like them on me Max?'
`Yes, they're very fetching, although there's not much left to the imagination.'
`So what are you imagining then?'
`I'm imagining you as my blue eyed model, standing there looking into my eyes as I draw you.'
`Did he ask you then...Mr Kelly?'
`No. I asked him if he would. He said he'd have to ask my mother. She was really keen on the idea so I modelled for him loads of times.'
`Are they all in those books?'
`No. My mother has tons of others.'
`Did you see them all?'
`Most of them. Some I never saw.'
`How did you feel when he was drawing you?'
`Good. I always felt good when he looked at me. He made me feel important and...well...'
`Well, what Max?'
`He made me feel loved if you really want to know.'
`I do want to know Max. That must be a nice feeling...feeling loved...don't you think?'
`Oh yes. It's the best feeling you can have. He loves you lot too...all you boys.'
`I know he does.'
`You can tell can't you?'
`Yes, you're right, you can.'
We sat for another half hour or so watching the various boats and their crews go by, then Max had a question.
`You said you've done some modelling Alfie. How did you feel about that?'
`Fine. I like doing it.'
`So how about I ask him then...if he'll do one of us?'
Occasionally Mr Kelly had joined in the life drawing class. It was made up of a couple fourth form scholarship boys, the art teacher, and three or four other interested adults. I modelled nude some of the time but not every time. Taking my clothes off in front of other people has never bothered me in the slightest. The thought of Mr Kelly drawing Max and I intrigued me somewhat. Perhaps excited me might be more accurate. He'd seen us all naked enough times in various situations. None of us could be relied upon to get up in the morning so he patrolled the rooms to make sure we had our feet out of bed. In the summer most of us slept with just a tee shirt on, and morning wood was not an unusual sight. All that stuff goes with the boarding experience. Mr Kelly had seen all that.
About three thirty we decided to head back. The route via Runnymede Park took us up the track which cuts into the corner of our playing field in Englefield Green. You have some unmowed grass to get through and then the bottom cricket pitch and the athletics track that goes round it. Once up the rise, the fenced outdoor swimming pool comes into view. We had talked about all sorts on the walk back...where Max lived, his mother and his five year old brother, and his life at school, now over. Max told me about his friend Tom.
`So were you friends from the start Max?'
`Yes. We hit it off right from the first day. I was scared witless and he was too. They put us in the same room. It was a bit like you and Jamie, if you know what I mean by that Alfie. Two year later he lost interest in all that, but he wanted to stay friends. One day we went for a long rather aimless walk round the city, and talked about our friendship and how it needed to change in certain ways. He told me that he'd met a girl in the holidays and they were writing to each other. I remember feeling totally hollow, like I'd lost all my insides when he told me. He was my best friend and I'd lost him. We sat on a bench along Castle Meadow and I cried. There were loads of passers-by, but he still put his arm around me. We're still friends Alfie. That's good isn't it?'
Indeed that is good. Max went on...
`Tom would come and stay at Blue Cottage some weekends, and in the holidays sometimes, just for a week or so. We would walk all day along the Norfolk coast whatever the weather. We had huge fun, even after he'd changed. Ana had left by then and my mother had this tiny baby, so it was the three of us. Tom would still sleep in my bed when he stayed which was nice, but of course it was different. I don't think I should have told you about Raf...Mr Kelly to you...that he's Michael's father.'
`Are you sure?'
`Oh yes, I heard them doing it, several times.'
`Yes. Sex can be noisy. I reckon they don't know they're making a noise when they come. I heard you last night.'
I could feel myself going red.
`Yes, just about, but there was no mistaking what it was. It was lovely. I could picture your face just as you came, and you made sharp little breathy noises.'
`So wasn't it embarrassing then?'
`It was my fault. I went out into the hall and stood outside their bedroom. Even the bed was making a noise. It started off with just gentle squeaking. My mother started to make crying noises and a bit later she came quite loudly. I heard Raf come just after that. I felt really guilty because I had an erection all that time. I went back to bed and did it. I was angry with Raf.'
`Because it should have been me Alfie.'
`What, you and My Kelly?'
`Yes. Look, I may as well tell you. Just don't ever say anything to anyone, ever. Promise?'
Max's explanation made a few things clearer. We talked about how some boys want to be with older boys or sometimes men. It made it much easier to tell Max that I wanted to be with him. Max said that it not unusual for younger boys to want to be with much older ones. He went on...
`When Tom wouldn't do it any more, I went looking for someone else. There were a couple of sixth formers who had made a few comments from time to time. You know the kind of things they say. I chose one of them and started conversations with him. He soon got the message. He was really nice and kind, and good looking too as it happened. We would make arrangements to meet somewhere quiet and when we knew they wouldn't be anyone around. Then we'd do it. His name was Ralph. It was my fault. I lead him on.'
`Will you tell me more about him please...later maybe?'
`Umm, if you want.'
We were quite close to the pool now, and we could hear voices. It sounded like My Kelly's voice.
They were in there with friends. Mr and Mrs Kelly were sitting on chairs near the edge of the pool. He was reading a book, and Mrs Kelly was talking to what was must be the mother of the two children playing in the pool. The father was lying the other side of the woman. Max and I stood by the open door which led into the pool. The whole thing has a six foot fence around it to stop strays wandering in and using it. Basically the school could never afford to security fence the whole place. Mrs Kelly saw us.
We walked in and stood by Mrs Kelly, who introduced us to their guests. I looked into the water where the children were playing. One was a girl who looked a bit older than me, and the other was a very dark haired boy, and younger than me probably. Both of them appeared to be nude. The girl, being chased by the boy headed for the steps at the corner of the pool and climbed out. Neither of them had seen us. I looked at the girl's body. She had a little hair just above her...whatever you call it...vagina. She had long dark hair like her brother. When she saw us, she smiled and waved. Then the boy turned to see who she was waving at. Then he waved.
`Are you boys going to join Sara and Andrew?' Mrs Kelly asks.
I looked at Max.
`Do you want to Max?'
Max can swim well. I'm no slow coach, but Max can outrun me easily. He's good. Max became the one to catch, which is usually the fate of the fastest swimmer. Andrew played the attack shark, and `got' poor Max several times, his shiny little body clinging onto the larger figure.
`Get him off me...get him off me! Max pleads in fun.
I go to Max's aid and prize Andrew off. He won't let go, so I resort to the sort of tactics that will make the lithe body let go. When he does, I become the object of second choice. I escape his hold on my arm and dive, but Andrew follows. My feet are grabbed, and then my legs. I escape again, but Andrew catches me, this time he grips me around my shoulders. I have him around his tummy now. He turns onto his back and kicks. I dive and catch him again, this time between his legs. His arms around my head now as we relax and sink, lungs full of air for our silent descent. I feel his hand between my legs as mine fold between his buttocks. Our air runs out and we surface apart. We pant for air and he smiles, and I smile back, breathless.
`Hi, I'm Alfie.'
`Hi. I'm Andrew.'
Max lies on the grass face down. His legs are close together which denies me what I want to see. I lie next to Max. Andrew enjoyed our company in the pool and wants to talk. We are more interesting than his sister. Andrew sits in front of us, knees up and held together by hands. Does he realise that he is so intimately exposed? I look at the line of skin that divides the wrinkled skin that holds what I want to know and touch, and travels down to that delectable crevice, pink and brown. I think of mine and wonder what will be tonight? Surely Max will honour his promise, but I can't take my eyes away from what Andrew is showing me. He lets go his knees and he rests back on his elbows, legs moved apart. I can see all of him now. His skin is drying and the sun is at work on the pale skin, hair matted above the brown sparkling eyes. There's a sudden command...
`Andrew...your mother wants you.'
...which breaks the spell.
I know Max wants to talk to Mr Kelly on his own. He's spent almost all his time this weekend with me, so that's only fair. The Kellys and Max have gone back to their flat, plus Andrew's parents and his sister for, as they described it, a late afternoon cuppa. Mrs Kelly's last words to me were...
`We're leaving you in charge Alfie. Don't let Andrew drown please.'
It reminded me of that message from the childrens' father in Swallows and Amazons in response to their request to go sailing on Windermere alone...'If not duffers, will not drown'. In other words, yes it is a risk, but if they're sensible, no harm will come to them. It hasn't taken me long to realise that Andrew is one of those kids...the kind of boy who will act first and think later.
Without parental guidance, and control shall we say, Andrew is a handful. He decides he's going to play a game with me...the pretend to be drowning game to be precise. My problem with that is that he just might be drowning. He isn't of course, but he puts on a very good impression of it. So much so that I have to dive in and grab him from the jaws of death and tow his limp body to the side of the pool, yank him up onto the side and perform CPR on his lovely lithe body.
I'm leaning over him and he's smiling up at me. I'm not a particularly happy bunny right now.
`What did you do that for Andrew? I don't think that's very funny.'
`Sorry? Yes, you will be sorry by the time I've finished with you.'
`Why? What are you going to do Alfie?'
I go on looking down at his face. He's not smiling now, and I can see the tops of his pearly white teeth between his lips. I can see where all this is going, and it's definitely Andrew's cunning little plan, but I quite fancy going along with it.
`I don't know Andrew, but don't worry, I'll think of something.'
I look down his body. He's holding his mini penis. I look back at him and I know what he wants. It's the perfect opportunity and we both know it.
By the time we stand up, our little peckers are leading the way to the corner of the grassy area around the pool, and out of sight.
`Lie down here Andrew...yes like that...on your back.'
I'm lying on my side to his right, and the door to the pool is behind me. I guide Andrew's hand onto my penis which has softened slightly. As I feel his hand tighten around my cock and balls, I harden again. He's kneading me like a ball of dough. His cock is a little beauty, as they all are of course. His foreskin is stretched over the engorged head very nicely, and he has that look that boys his age do. He has a long way to go in the development stakes. His balls, if he has any, have disappeared it would seem, and his willy is a very poor second, perhaps two thirds of the way there, to a six inch ruler, bless him. Nonetheless he's perfectly lovely in that department.
I force my hand under his bottom and find that part of him that lies deep between his buttocks, and with finger ends I apply gentle pressure. Andrew lets out a gasp of air that tells me he likes that particular invasion of his privacy.
It's just two fingers and a thumb because I sense that Andrew only needs the lightest of touches, and I want to get this over quickly. It's a typical chance encounter between boys who have realised that they like the feeling they get when they rub their cocks for long enough. They meet in the park, or on a bike ride or at the beach. It can happen anywhere. All it takes is a few glances, one walks away and looks back to see the other one is still looking, so you walk back.
`Do you want something?'
`Umm, if you do?'
`Yes. Do you know anywhere to go?'
Ten minutes later I've just made another boy come whom I have never met before, and now it's my turn. We do it standing up behind a bush. We are both hard before we've even got our hands inside the other boy's knickers. We compare our erections first. That part over, we begin to feel each other generally, get pants lowered a little more and out of the way, and then we get on with the job in hand. It happens very satisfactorily for both of us in turn, and then it's history with the evidence of our activity hanging in the grass by our feet. It's all quickly forgotten and life goes on. That's the way it goes.
I watch Andrew dress, standing, as I do the same, and I'm thinking how pleasurable that little interlude was. Andrew was keen to reciprocate, but I declined that simple pleasure because I'm saving myself for Max I sincerely hope. I don't know how Max is feeling at this moment, but I'm more than ready now. I want him so badly, it's hurting.
I have delivered Andrew back to his parents who are finishing their tea up at the Kelly's flat. He stands next to his mother who ruffles his mop of dark hair, her hand coming to rest on the boy's shoulder. I examine his features from my position next to max by the window. Andrew is prettier than I thought...quite Italianate...like one of those pictures of Neapolitan boys standing naked by a boat on the beach. He looks at me and smiles. He has one hand in his shorts pocket and there's slight movement there. I imagine that he is experiencing that tingling one gets a short time after orgasm. At his age, once isn't really enough. I smile back at him and he knows what I'm thinking, but sadly it isn't going to happen for him, at least not from me.
Dinner with the Kellys is at seven thirty tonight. I look at the clock on the wall of the sitting room as Max and I leave. Five thirty. As soon as we are downstairs and onto the path that leads back to Swallows, Max has something to tell me.
`I spoke to Raf and he thought it a nice idea.'
`For both of us to model for him, like a double portrait? What do you think Alfie?'
I thought that would be amazing.
We talked about how we wanted to pose...standing, lying down, sitting, and so on. Well, it had to be one of those three. We decided that there should be some sort of physical contact but not the kind that suggests anything sexual. As far as the Kellys were concerned, nothing physical had happened between us. Mr Kelly might have wondered though.
`What about if we were both standing and I had my hand on your shoulder Alfie?'
Perfect. That would suggest a relationship, like we were friends, Max being the older and more paternal presence. Yes, that's perfect.
`That's a great idea Max.'
`Yeah, I reckon that would work well. Probably best to avoid a back view.'
Max didn't answer, but a few seconds later I felt myself going very pink in the face. I feel nervous, but I'm anxious that it should happen, and as soon as possible. We were a hundred or so yards from Swallows.
`Max. What shall we do now? We've got at least an hour and a half before dinner.'
He stopped and turned towards me.
`I think I'd just to rest for a bit. Would you like to lie down for a while Alfie? I think I'd just like to be quiet for a while...just you and me. Is that ok?'
A huge wave of feeling came over me as he said those words. I felt my eyes filling with tears, and his face became just a blur of dark and light. I took a step towards Max and felt his hands enclose me as I rested my head against his chest. I felt water on my cheeks, and as it ran into the corner of my mouth it tasted of salt. I felt his arms tighter around me now as he pulled me harder into him. I looked up into his face. I wanted to apologize for being so pathetic, but the words came out in a jumble.
`I just want to tell you something Alfie. Look at me Alfie. There's nothing I want from you, nothing more than you want to give me. Can you understand that? It's lovely just being with you. That's more than enough for me.'
I would have willingly died for him at that moment. My tears weren't just for him, they were for myself as well. I'm thousands of miles from home and sometimes I feel it badly. Just for a few hours maybe, I've found another home with someone I know I can love. I can't stop my tears, and I can't stop my whole body shaking with my sadness and joy...a strange mixture of feelings I'm so far from understanding, but I know it's all real, not a dream. I've made a decision.
From another perspective...
Mr and Mrs Kelly are watching the two boys from their sitting room window.
`Did you think this would happen Raf?'
`I wasn't sure, but yes, I thought it quite likely.'
`You're very trusting darling.'
`True, but I know Max. We can rely on him.'
`Some people you never stop loving. That's true in your case isn't it Raf?'
`Oh yes, that's very true. But there are different sorts of love don't you think?'
`Of course. I know yours is a very special kind of loving when it comes to Max isn't it?'
Raphael Kelly doesn't answer but his wife knows that what she has said is true. He feels his wife's hand on his back. It's a gentle and loving gesture which affects him as he stands by the window watching love cast its soft and comforting cloak over the two boys in the distance. They are both his boys in different way, but they are his. Oh yes, wherever they may be in the world they will always be his.
It's a good time to reflect when one has time to stare out of the window at nothing in particular. But what he was seeing certainly didn't fit into the `nothing' category. No, this was something special between a boy of seventeen whom he has known since that wonderful autumn five years before on the Norfolk coast, and a boy that is his pupil here and now, and a very promising one at that, who knows nothing of the beauty of that county in England but soon will. A friendship between them might be a fitting finale to the thirteen year old's time here at Bishops? They had got on well, that was very obvious, since Max's arrival on Friday evening. How well he wasn't sure, but if what he is seeing now is any indication, matters have progressed beyond mere acquaintance. Alfie looks upset, but he knows Max can handle that. It's not a row they're having, probably a formative emotional issue perhaps? You would certainly describe Max as a sensitive and caring boy, who has matured from that nimble slim and enchanting twelve year old to what he sees now...the same boy that has a little brother now made from Raphael's own seed sown deep into his mother's womb at her request. He'd managed it, but only just sometimes, aided by thoughts of her beautiful son. He even quite enjoyed the experience of heterosexual lovemaking, as had she, so that both surprised each other. He'd managed to come several times as had she, inspired by thoughts of her special girl no doubt. They had discussed their preferences at some length and nothing was a secret between them, even Raphael's feelings for her son. She understood perfectly, and the admiration of Raphael by her son was encouraged to be a mutual thing, but never in any way harmful to the soon to be pubescent Max of course. Quite the contrary, the relationship between them was fruitfully intellectual if not physical. It made Raphael think back into his past as he looked at the two boys walking away now, Afie with his hands to his sides, and Max's right hand resting on Alfie outer thigh, just below the waistband of his shorts. Strange that he should have chosen to wear those today? He wondered if they were Max's choice...something that would show off the undoubted talents of his new friend. He could imagine the conversation as they dressed for the new day.
`No, not those Alfie. Something a bit more...interesting?'
Alfie smiles at Max, and goes over to the linen cupboard. He pauses to consider some possibilities, and then picks up what he thinks Max will approve of.
`Hmm. They're nice. Try those Alfie.'
Yes, that's probably what happened.
That general train of thought stirs Raphael. He thinks of his own schooldays and the friends he once had. He remembers dear Olaf, and David, Tim and the others. Then it was art school and eventually teaching, and the joy he felt leading young minds from darkness into light...from unknowing to knowing...from insensitive to sensitive...from uncaring to loving, and an awareness of their duty to others. The thoughts move him, and he feels the tickle on his cheek as first one tear falls makes it's way to his upper lip, and then followed by more. He looks down, embarrassed now, to see the dark spots on his pale woollen jumper made by the drops of saline water. He tries to wipe them away because his wife will notice, but they stubbornly remain. He admonishes himself for his emotional lapse. The figures have gone now. He looks at his watch. Five forty five.
Alfie was almost breathless as the two boys opened the glazed door into Swallows. Two large empty wicker hampers were stacked to one side of the hall, their laundered contents now distributed into the correct place for the boys to find as and when clean clothing was needed. There's plenty of everything, just in case. Upstairs are the boys' rooms all named after British birds. Robin and Wren had been chosen for the youngest boys, Tern, Jackdaw and Pipit for the middling ones, and then Merlin, Swift and Eagle for the oldest inmates. Avocet had been suggested, but was rejected on the grounds that it had too many syllables and was a little girly. Merlin and Eagle were good because they were quite `Lord of the Flies' and the boys would react well to that implied aggression and `back to nature' stuff. Other birds that got the immediate thumbs down were Shag [not really something to be encouraged], Twite [they wouldn't have heard of it], Tit [they're boys], Snipe [irritable], Dove [far too peace loving] Woodcock[almost all of them when they get out of bed, unless they have very recently had one], and so on. Personal possessions are allowed of course within reason. One boy had a telescope, another his favourite teddy, very worn and unhealthy looking. No one commented on this boy's unusual Christian name...Hendrix. It was just assumed that his people liked guitar music, but the combination of Hendrix and a teddy bear, worse for wear, was considered a tad odd. The said owner however is a lovely little chap who has no interest in music apparently. Shame.
Max's main worry was that he might hurt Alfie when they had the sort of sex they wanted to try. They had discussed it at some length, and Max, who had an inkling about these delicate matters, had even acquired some of the slippery gel that they would be needing if they decided that they wanted to do it that way. Alfie was keen to try. His experience with the eleven year old Pak, had been more than satisfactory but the little Thai boy's cock was the size of Max's middle finger. Max, with the horn, was going to be a very different can of worms.
Within a minute of reaching the door into Swallows, Max had the horn, big time. Alfie had grabbed him as soon he knew they were out of sight from the world and they could do what they liked with each other. There wasn't even time to go upstairs, Alfie's need was so urgent. He pulled Max towards him by his ears and planted a rather frantic kiss smack on Max's mouth. Alfie was on tip-toe and Max had to incline his head somewhat, but between the two of them, it worked fine. It turned them both on with unseemly haste, Max's erection aided by Alfie finding his friends rapidly growing penis inside his shorts. He encouraged the now hard object towards the vertical whereby he could manipulate its whole length. The kissing continued for long enough for Alfie to feel in Max's slightly undersized and restricting underpants what he wanted to feel...the tell-tale wet patch at its head. Whatever the tiny organ was that was responsible for this pre-emission, it was more than capable of providing its owner with copious amounts, too much in fact of that fragrant lubricant. Max regarded that particular talent of his more of a curse than an asset, mainly because it stains white cotton and is hard to get out.
`You're leaking Max.'
`Oh bloody hell. These aren't mine Alfie.'
Max was right. He'd borrowed a pair of pants from Simon that he picked out from the cupboard in Tern. They were the kind that younger boys wear who have no need of a double layer of material to support a more developed penis. The single thickness of cotton was never going to absorb what Max produced quite soon after sexual arousal. Heaven knows what Simon would think if he knew that a pair of his pristine white and moderately brief knickers had been adulterated by a quantity of Max's pre-ejaculatory fluid gently squeezed from his rigid penis by Alfie, who of course knew exactly what he was doing. Well, what the eye doesn't see, the heart won't grieve over will it? Trouble is, he probably will see it. Simon is quite particular when it comes to his clothing. Best remove them altogether perhaps?
I dragged Max upstairs to the room. Max had put a stop to what I was doing to him, which was just as well. He did let me undress him, and then he did likewise for me. There wasn't a huge amount to take off and when we stood facing each other we admired each other's erect cocks. I put Simon's pants that Max had been wearing since this morning in some warm water in one of the basins to soak. Whilst on the subject, I wondered what had happened to a pair of Jamie's to clean Max up last night. We were going through knickers like they were going out of fashion.
`Max, where are Jamie's pants? What did you do with them last night?'
`Err, they were under my pillow.'
`Oh. Everything's been changed. Eva must have taken them when she did the sheets.'
Eva is the woman who sees to all the laundry every Saturday morning. Oh dear, she'll think that Jamie's suddenly cumming like there's no tomorrow. They had Max's stuff all over them. How embarrassing for her. Oh well, boys will be boys, and we've got to get rid of it somewhere haven't we? She would understand. Max called out to me from the wet room.
`I'm going to shower Alfie. What about you?'
`Coming.' I called through to him.
`Do you mean that?' Max replies.
I get under the shower with Max. He looks at me as he takes my shoulders in his hands.
`Not yet Alfie. I know you need to, but not yet. Not `til afterwards. Do you want to try after this?'
`What we talked about?'
`Yes, but only if you think you're ready. We can go bit by bit, so...'
Yes, I want to Max.'
I've waited long enough. I'm sure I can do it. He's a lot bigger than me, but so what?
I had a very perky penis all through the shower as Max applied shower gel all over me. He asked me when I last had been to the loo, other than for a pee. I said I hadn't for ages. He told me to go and try. It's a good job he did. He told me not to bother with the bidet. He would see to it in the shower. He gently turned me around so that I was leaning against the tiled wall of the shower.
`Put your hands about here Alfie, and your legs like this so I can reach you. Tell me to stop if you don't like it ok?'
Don't like it? It was blissful, believe me...absolutely blissful. He was so gentle with me.
`There, who's a nice clean boy then?'
Answer? I was! I had been comprehensively deep cleaned. I have never had an examination like that and by the end of it all I wanted to do was lie down. My legs were going to jelly. It was a strange feeling right inside me. I looked down at my cock and it made these involuntary jumps, like it was reacting to what Max was feeling inside me. He was stroking my back and shoulders all that time. I could feel his cock poking into my thigh.
I had told him I wanted to see his face when he put it in me. We had talked about the different ways we could do it, but I definitely wanted it that way. I'm quite supple and I knew I could do what he said was the best way to do it...to make his entry into me the most comfortable. Apparently the rectum above my anus is straighter that way, and he could rub my prostate gland at the same time. I had no idea I had one, let alone what it did, until he gave me that particular biology lesson. We agreed that it was just an experimental go and not to expect it all to work first time. We did it on my bed, but first he arranged a towel just in case, and another one to cover my pillow which he put under my hips. I put my legs apart so he could kneel between them.
`Just lie still Alfie. Nothing much is going to happen for a while. Just shut your eyes and relax.'
With all the preparations, I had gone very limp, in fact smaller than usual. Two minutes later that situation had changed. I would challenge any boy not to get a hard on when stimulated by Max in this way. I thought it was his finger but I realised it wasn't. It was his tongue curled round to make a poky shape. I felt his thumbs gently ease my buttocks apart very close to the centre. I waited for the sensation to start. I felt his tongue go in circles for a minute or two, and then...oh dear, I could hardly bear the sensation. I had this tingling feeling in my willy which spread backwards towards my bottom. I had a desperate urge to make myself come. Max stopped me.
`Don't do that darling boy.'
Darling boy? Oh no. I can't bear it.
When he started again I felt his tongue go inside me, just a tiny bit. I gripped the sides of the bed. I had to grip something. It was all so strong. Max traced a line with the tip of his tongue from my opening bud all the way to the tip of my cock. The feeling was excruciatingly delicious.
The gel felt cool to start with. He used two fingers and stayed inside me for ages just moving the tips around in more or less the same place. He was kneeling between my legs and looking down at me. I looked up at him. It was a strange feeling
`Are you ok beautiful boy?'
Beautiful boy. Am I? I just about remember saying `yes' rather breathlessly, before...
`Can we do it now please? I'm ready.'
`Are you sure Alfie?'
I watched as Max applied the jelly stuff to his penis. He had drawn the skin right back and the head looked wet and shiny. I asked Max if I could have some. He took it from the very tip of his penis and then touched my lips, from one side to the other, and on the tip of my tongue. It's a peculiar taste like nothing else. It lingers, and I savour it.
He put loads of the gel on, all the way up to his tummy, and he put more into me.
I knew what to do because we had talked about exactly how we would do it. He lifted my legs up and he helped me rest them on his shoulders. As he leaned forwards my hips rose slightly. I Felt my bottom widen and I knew that my anus must have opened slightly. I put my head on one side of the pillow and waited for the pain to start. Max said it might hurt a bit. I don't care. I just want his spunk, and as much as he can give me, and more. I want to be filled with my boy lovers cum until I'm overflowing with his pearly white semen. I want it deep within me. I want it coming out of my ears...in my mouth. I want it everywhere...all over me. I want to feel him come, to taste it, to smell it. I want to swim in the stuff...Max's creamy white spunk. Just before he comes, I'm going to tell him for the first time...that I love him.
The end of chapter two