Boys Can Be Lovers Too 6

Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.

This is a story about the love between a twelve-year-old boy and a twenty-seven-year-old man and it contains graphic details of sexual contact between them. If you are under age and if this is illegal where you live or where you're accessing this site, then I suggest you leave immediately. For those who wish to stay, then this story is a long one of sixteen parts and an epilogue, which deals with a relationship rather than a brief and sexually stimulating read, although there are parts when the sexuality of the liaison is paramount to the story and I've done my best to leave nothing out.

Anyone wishing to contact me can do so at john.thestoryteller@gmail.com

Thanks to all those who have mailed me and enjoyed the story so far. If I haven't replied, it's because there are so many. My apologies if I don't.

Boys can be lovers, too.

Part six.

Dean Says:

Thursday.

The last three days had been wonderful and I was amazed how we'd all bonded so well as a group. Of course, it was no problem for Matthew and his mum and dad, but I was now part of the family. Henry amused me with his little digs at us; like we were a newly married couple. Given our talk down at the cove, I understood in part how he was feeling. Janice seemed very happy with the situation, too. It had a lot to do with how happy Matthew was. Maybe if Matthew and I hadn't met, he would have been like a normal lad just reaching puberty: sullen because he was stuck between childhood and adulthood. Had he brought a friend his own age then that might have helped. But this family was different. The love between them was exceptional. They did things that were strange to me, so much so that I was almost embarrassed at what they did. Father kissed son on the lips; mother kissed son on the lips; and mother and father were always exchanging kisses on the lips, and some of the kisses were passionate: almost sexual. And they did it anywhere, without shame.

Last evening, Wednesday, we ate a late, cold supper, outside. They were chatting about Matthew's education. I was amazed he was now studying for his A levels: pre-university exams - and he was taking twelve subjects. Excluding his mother tongue, he could speak five languages. This small, angelic looking boy, who had only turned twelve on April 9^th, and who was now my lover, was an exceptional boy indeed. I felt like a troglodyte amongst them because Henry had a Doctorate in criminal psychology, and Janice, a Masters in business studies. I'd thought I was clever having passed six subjects at O level.

At one point in the conversation, Henry looked at me and grinned. "Are you multilingual, Dean?"

I grinned back at him. "I can speak two languages: English and Anglo-Saxon." I looked at Matthew when I said `Anglo-Saxon', and he giggled.

Janice was on the ball and took my side. "Don't feel too despondent by this intellectuality, Dean. The last time Henry changed a plug we were without electricity for a whole night. It's true, isn't it Henry?"

Henry laughed. "I blew the main switch and didn't know where it was. It was just after we'd moved to Droitwich. I'm not very good with electrics." Then he looked at me and I could see the cogs in his brain turning. "Ledbury. It's not far away from you. We're just in the middle of buying a property down there. Two actually: adjoining cottages. Do you do any work in Ledbury?"

I didn't answer his question. I was thinking that my boy was coming to live near me. "Are you moving down to Ledbury?" Henry's answer knocked me back to reality.

"No. We can't leave Droitwich at the moment. The cottages we're buying are an investment. They need completely rewiring before we can let them out. That's why I asked you."

"Ah, I see. Yes, we do work in Ledbury. I'll get Dominic to do you a quote. How old are the cottages?"

"18th century."

I pursed my lips and expelled a low whistle. "18^th century! I take it they're listed?"

Henry nodded.

"I hope you've priced them right then. With all the rules and regs on listed buildings, I'll guarantee it will cost an arm and a leg without even looking at the job. Now you've told me that, I'm not sure I want the job."

Now, I had all their attention. Henry was serious. "Why's that?"

"It could be difficult overcharging the in-laws."

When the laughter had died down, Henry looked at me and winked. "Touché. I think I'd better stop ribbing you."

It was eleven in the morning when Henry parked his Jaguar at the top of the hill in the community car park at Port Isaac. We'd decided to go there because the tide was now almost fully in and our cove was not accessible until it went out some way; probably around three in the afternoon. This was a problem with the tides and small coves in Cornwall. It was rare for the twelve hour cycle to coincide exactly with an 8 am to 8 pm day, which was the ideal for tourists. But that's what Cornwall is like, and why it is a holiday there is so varied.

We walked down the steep hill to the harbour and sat on the harbour wall watching the small fishing boats bobbing on the water at anchor. Henry took out a cigar and lit up. I lit a cigarette. The smoke was blowing into Janice's face and she wafted her arms at it. Henry laughed and told her to go and sit somewhere else if it was bothering her. She asked Matthew if he would join her on a walk to the concrete harbour breakwater, and he agreed. That left Henry and I sitting alone.

"Dean, is there any chance you can extend your holiday for another week?"

I drew deep on my cigarette. I'd been churning this matter over in my mind since Matthew and I had got together. "Probably, but this is your family holiday and I already feel I'm intruding too much."

Henry blew out a large puff of smoke and looked at his wife and son as they walked across the breakwater. "I've spoken to Janice about it. We both want you to stay an extra week if it's possible. Having you with us isn't an intrusion. Janice was in tears last night."

I was alarmed. "Why?"

"She hasn't seen Matt so happy for a long time. Normally, he's not like this. He can be a sullen child, and at times, he hides himself away from us. I suppose it's the ambiguity in his life that was causing it. The poor lad was mixed up sexually and we aren't the type of family who keep secrets from each other. Well, work-wise we do, but not matters than concern us as a unit. When I told him we knew he was gay, I could see a weight lift from his shoulders. I wish we'd told him earlier. I suppose you've noticed the kisses he gives to me and his mum."

Henry was staring pensively down at the sea splashing gently against the harbour wall when I answered him. "Yes. He truly loves you."

"I know he does. He used to kiss us like that all the time, but it stopped about two or three years ago. We thought it was just part of his growing up. Now we know it's because he was repressing his sexuality and punishing himself in the only way he knew how: by denying our mutual love. He knew he was hurting us, but in his mind we deserved it because we should understand him because he's our son. Once you came on the scene and we told him we were aware of his sexuality and that we had no problems about it, he stopped punishing himself. And us. He's our son again; the one who loves us dearly. So, rather than intruding on us, you've brought us together again."

I digested Henry's words before I replied. "Even if I stay for another week, we'll still have to part. What happens then?"

Henry cheered up. "Oh, that's not a problem. You'll see each other regularly. I'll make sure of that." He looked at me. "That's if you want to of course. Sorry Dean, I was forgetting you have an input into this. I was being selfish."

"Of course I want to. I'd walk to Droitwich and back every weekend to be with him. He can always come and stay with me for a few days if you don't mind. You and Janice as well if you want to. You're welcome any time."

Henry smiled. "I'm not sure we'd want to intrude on you lovers. Besides, you're hocked up to the eyeballs with your bank so you probably couldn't afford to feed four of us."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Don't I know it? Is there anything you don't know about me?"

"Nope. Well, will you stay for another week?"

I got off the wall. "I'll ring Dominic now and see if he's ok with it. I'll find a phone box."

When I returned, all three were sitting on the harbour wall. Obviously, Henry had told them of our conversation. Matthew came to meet me and when he saw my smiling face and I nodded, he was almost in tears and he hugged my arm as we walked to his parents. I told Henry and Janice that Dominic would cover for me and I would stay for the duration of their stay. Another hurdle had been crossed.

We'd planned to have lunch in Port Isaac and then immediately return to our cove and spend the rest of the afternoon there. Like many plans made in Cornwall, they often go awry. We had lunch under a sun umbrella at a small restaurant with an excellent view of the bustling harbour. Fresh seafood was the order of the day and we started with six oysters each. I couldn't stop giggling while we ate them and Matthew asked why I was doing it. I glanced at Henry, who was stifling his giggles, and refused to answer for a while, but eventually, at Matthew's insistence, I told him. "Oysters are an aphrodisiac. Or so they say."

Matthew took an oyster from his plate, lifted it to his lips, swallowed it and looked me straight in the eyes. Then, still staring into my eyes, he wiped his mouth with his serviette. "I know they are. Good. You need some. I'll order you another dozen, old man."

I burst out laughing and so did Henry, and even Janice couldn't stifle a chuckle at his cheeky remark. I decided not to say anything else: it would probably have got me into deeper trouble. My boy was too sharp for me to take him on at mind games. Like Henry had said to me when we had our chat, except in body, Matthew was not a child. I was beginning to appreciate my equal; or better.

Henry and I were drinking beers and we ordered our second one as the lobster was served. Janice had offered to drive back and was drinking soft drinks so `you boys can have a few beers if you like'. A few beers in the sun were too good an offer to miss and by the time we'd eaten and were enjoying a smoke, we'd drunk four pints of the local brew. It was strong beer, too. When we left the table, Henry and Janice said they were going to sit in the shade and just watch the world go by. Matthew and I sat with them for a while and then he got up and wandered over to an open culvert that ran alongside the harbour and which channelled land water into the sea. There were a number of children playing in it, and he joined them. Occasionally, he would glance across to us and grin and then go back to having fun. There was a boy about his own age, a chubby lad with ginger hair, and they paired off to try and scale the small rocks behind them. The younger ones, a couple of boys aged about eight or nine and a couple of girls of similar age continued playing in the stream. For the entire world to see, they were ordinary children. But were they? If Matthew was a paradox of childhood, why wouldn't the others be the same? But were they a paradox? It would assume that children are asexual, and of course, they're not. Matthew was an oversexed gay boy, but the chubby lad he was with could easily turn out to be a sadist or even a gay sadist. It was very probable he would be normal, whatever `normal' is considering `normal' includes every kind of perversion that straight people get up to. At least my little gay oversexed boy wouldn't be visiting some of the dives in Soho to have his beautiful butt whipped by some leather clad Amazon and then go home to his wife and kids and pretend he was normal. I continued watching my beautiful boy lover, admiring his lovely, sexy body.

Matthew tired of his boyish games and wandered back to us. He grinned at me and said we were going for a walk. Despite my protests, he insisted, and I knew why; he wanted sex. Even while he was playing with the chubby lad, I knew he'd been scheming how he would get it because I'd received a number of glances from him that I was used to by now. It was one of the things I came to love about my boy; his plotting and scheming when his sexual needs were involved.

The walk I would have chosen was back up the hill we came down and then follow the coastal path to the other side of the headland where we would have a magnificent view of the coast northwards to Port Gaverne and beyond. Matthew said we'd go in the opposite direction, up the steep, rough track on the other side of the harbour, which led to nowhere other than virgin coast and cliffs that dropped to the sea. We'd been walking hand in hand for twenty minutes before he pulled me down the grass headland. Only when he was sure he'd reached a spot that sheltered us from prying eyes - a depression in the headland - did he stop and sit down. He patted the grass beside him.

I lay down and he rolled himself on top of me. The kiss he gave me told me he was in a really randy mood. Not that I minded: I wanted him as much as he wanted me. Matthew stripped me naked and then took off his own clothes and stood straddling me and his wonderful body was silhouetted against the sun.

"Feel me Dean. I want to watch you doing it. It's dead sexy knowing how much you love my body. You were thinking about sex with me when you were watching me playing, weren't you?"

I shook my head. "I was admiring the chubby lad you were with."

"Fuck off! It's me you want. Now do as I say and feel me all over! Pretend this is the first time you've ever seen me naked."

His last comment aroused me too much to want to play any more games with him and soon my hands were caressing and exploring everything above me that I worshipped. Matthew grasped my hands and began to caress himself with them, guiding them to the parts that gave him the most pleasure and also to the parts he knew excited me, especially his inner thighs and soft buttocks, which he knew I adored with a passion. Then he lowered himself and kissed me.

"Was that nice? Do you love my body?"

I was breathless with the passions of the moment. "It turns me on like nothing else in the world could ever do."

Matthew's smile was a triumphant one. "Phew! It's really sexy to hear you say that. I nearly came when you were doing it. Do you know why?"

I shook my head.

"Because I felt as if I owned you. You're not mad at me for that are you?"

Again I shook my head. "No. You do own me. As long as it gives you pleasure, you can do anything you want with me."

I saw Matthew's eyes gleam. "Anything?"

I nodded.

He stood up, straddled me again with his feet under my armpits and then told me to caress his body as I was doing before. I did as I was told and he began to slowly roll his foreskin backwards and forwards whilst staring me in the eyes. I knew exactly what was going through his mind: this was a test to see how much I loved him. If I would allow him to desecrate me, then there was little else I could do display my love. I opened my mouth and slowly and deliberately he pumped away until his aimed semen fell onto my face and into my wide open mouth. Now he needed help because he had just desecrated the man he loved, so I cleaned up every bit of his semen and swallowed it greedily to show him my love for him had no boundaries. Then I pulled him down to me and kissed him passionately. We broke the kiss and I saw his eyes searching mine to see how he could make up for what he'd done.

He smiled a half smile. "We should have brought some Vaseline."

I reached over to my shorts and took a flat tin of Vaseline from the pocket. "I called in at the chemist and got a tin when I went to make the phone call"

Matthew's hands were shaking as he tried to take the lid off the tin. I took it from him, removed it and handed it back. He put a small amount on his finger, wiped it on my lips and then pushed his finger in and out of my mouth. It was the most suggestive thing he could have done to tell me that his finger was William and that he would soon be feeling snug in Snug. Then he took out a larger amount, reached behind him and I knew he was greasing his love hole. More was applied to William, and then Matthew was squatting over me, looking between his legs, one hand on my thigh for balance and the other holding William firmly as he lowered himself. William slipped easily into him and I watched as each inch disappeared from view. Halfway in and Matthew gave a gasp. I'd reached his love spot and I expected him to stop there and massage his tenderness as he usually did, but another inch vanished, and then another, and another. I could see my lover adjusting himself, experimenting with relaxation to see if he could get all of me in him. Very slowly, with gritted teeth, Matthew finally slipped down until he was sitting on me, and then he began to relax. He pointed to a spot on his tummy. "You're in up to here. Now I belong to you."

"Is it hurting?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you take him out?"

Matthew glared at me. "Because this is what I've wanted you to have since the first time I laid eyes on you, you silly old man, and I know I won't be completely yours until there's nothing left of me to penetrate. I can't give you any more than this."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

He shook his head, made a few small pelvic movements and then relaxed again. "Don't do anything. Whatever you do, don't touch Willie."

Fascinated, I watched him trying different things. He raised himself an inch and then went down again; pushed forwards and backwards and then circled his hips. Each time he did the movements, they were more exaggerated. After what must have been ten minutes, he looked into my eyes and began to combine all three movements. I could see the pain in his face, but I also knew the sexual gratification he was getting was worth it. I watched his mouth open when he was reaching his peak, and when he did and he knew I could take no more, he let out a low howl and I watched Willie pulsate and eject the tiny remnants of his boy semen onto my belly simultaneously as I humped him and shot my whole load deep inside his beautiful, fascinating, sexy boy body.

When it was all over, Matthew pulled off me, sank to his knees, which were straddled each side of my waist, cupped my head in his hands and kissed me. Then he looked into my eyes. "I can't give you any more than that, Dean. Is it enough?"

I smiled and nodded. "Nobody could ever give me more."

Matthew was almost tearful. "Not even Harry?"

I shook my head. "Not Harry; not anybody. No one could compare with you in any way."

My words seemed to hit exactly the right spot and tears flowed from his beautiful brown eyes as he spoke. "Thank you. You really are a beautiful person you know. I worship your sexy body, but I love Dean Sorrenson more. Can we go back to mum and dad now?"

I cocked my head to one side. "You've only done it twice! You're slipping."

Matthew looked wistful. "Maybe. But that's the first time I've had complete satisfaction from sex. I don't want any more. I just want to be with you and mum and dad. I want us to be together and I want to go home to our site and just spend a lovely evening together; all of us, and then I want to fall asleep in your arms. Will you do that for me, please?"

"Of course I will." I reached over to my shorts and took out the small pack of baby wipes I'd also got from the chemists. "I think you'd better clean yourself up first. You're dripping on my belly."

Matthew looked back at the semen which was escaping from his love hole, and grinned. He opened the pack of wipes, took a couple out and handed them to me, walked a short distance away, squatted and began to clean himself. While he was doing it, I dressed. When he returned, I slipped his underpants and shorts on, straightened his hair, did the same to mine and kissed him softly on the lips and then slowly, hand in hand, we walked back to the harbour.

Matthew Says:

On the long walk back to the harbour, neither Dean nor I said much although we could fill a book with our thoughts. For my part, I'd reached both the nadir and the peak of my life. That was because when I went right down on Dean, any lingering (even if they were tiny) misgivings about what the future held for me had gone. I'd discovered the naked, unambiguous truth about myself and the truth can be both inspirational and depressing. I knew I would never be anything other than a homosexual; my parents would have no grandchildren from me, and because I was an only child, it meant they would remain like that all their lives. That in itself is not something you inflict on your parents without deep reservations. Children don't have that right. Its part of being someone's child to provide them with a blood line they can be proud of and love into their old age, but the moment I climaxed with Dean deep inside me removed any chance of that. It was both sexually and emotionally beyond my control not to want that again and again and again. The age of homosexual consent was twenty one, but that was a load of bollocks. No laws could protect me or change me from what I was. It didn't matter a jot that Dean was more than twice my age because age wasn't really my problem. I was having sex now with a man and I would want sex with men all my life. If anything, I felt sorry for Dean. He was a lover of boys; an even more despised sub-species of the human race; even despised as a lesser sub-species by the sub-species of which I was a member. But it had not been Dean who had brought us to where we were. He was no pervert who preyed on children for sex. As far as I was aware (and I had no reason to disbelieve him) he had lived his life in self denial and would have done so forever had he not met me or someone like me. He was about as much a threat to society as a mouse eating cheese in a pantry: an abandoned pantry. That is until someone set a trap for him. The bait was a succulent portion of Chabichou du Poitou served up with a Pouilly-Fumé: Me. How could he resist?

I desperately needed counselling; not from someone who didn't know me, but by someone who knew me better than anyone on earth; and she rose to meet me as Dean and I approached. Maybe it was the look on my face that made her do it, or maybe it was something far deeper than that: a mother's intuition for which science can give no explanation. Whatever, she opened her arms and I melted into her and surrendered to her mother love. Dad must have sensed, or he understood the situation, or maybe mum gave him the nod he never disobeyed, and he and Dean melted away to leave me and my beloved mother alone. We sat on the low slate wall and she put her arm around me and waited.

It was a while before I said a word, and then I told her everything which had passed through my mind from the moment we left them to the moment I went into her arms. It was a cleansing moment, like a confession before dying in the hope that eternal resurrection would be my reward; a double metamorphosis from life to death and back to life. Well, I was hoping it was back to life. The woman who held me was the key to that.

Mum raised my head and looked deeply into my eyes. "You think too deeply, Matthew. You dig holes for yourself when, sometimes, it's not necessary to hide. I wasn't going to tell you yet, but I reckon this is the perfect moment. I'm pregnant. Two months gone. You're going to have a brother or a sister, so maybe that's part of your problems solved. Unless, that is, I have another child who's just like you. In that case, I'll love him or her just as much as I do you and I will die a very, very happy mother. What do you think of that?"

I drew back and looked into her eyes, amazed at what she'd just told me. "I'm shocked. The dirty old man! He's as bad as Dean. Now I know why he ordered oysters."

We both burst out laughing and the more we laughed, the harder we hugged each other until we almost fell off the slate wall. When our mirth receded, mum took my chin in her hand and again looked deeply into my eyes. "As for the rest of what you've told me, just get on and enjoy what you have while you have it. Dad and I are going to have to work doubly hard now to keep it that way and if anyone tries to stop you having what you want, it will be over their dead bodies. Knowing your father as I do, it wouldn't surprise me if a few do go floating down the Thames before you become legally of age."

That remark made me curious. "What does dad really do mum?"

She gave me that silly smile which told me I wouldn't get a proper answer. "He keeps me happy."

I returned the silly smile. "Where do I get my raging sex needs from; you or dad?"

Mum giggled. "I'm not going to tell you."

A knowing smirk crossed my face. "Ok. You'd best make sure you're faithful to dad because he's got a rival. Dean fancies you and I don't want him getting bumped off because you're a randy sod like me."

We both chuckled like two manic old hags. Mum said not to mention anything to dad that I knew about the new baby. We were both going to enjoy watching him ponder how he was going to break the news to me and I wouldn't tell Dean until it was official.

Dean and dad, when they saw us laughing, started walking back to us. I turned to mum. "By the way mum, I want go and live with Dean. I'll leave you and dad to sort it." Before she could answer, I was off the wall and going to meet the boys.

To be continued...