Now Am I In Arden

A story by Ivor Sukwell and Kyle McKenzie. A story about a boy and a man with all that such entails. The setting is modern and based around the theatre, Not your thing? Sorry about that, we're sure you'll find something that is.  Whatever your choice, please remember Nifty needs your donations.

                                  Now Am I In Arden

                                                     Chapter four

 

He stroked my knee a little as I spoke and I smiled at him.

"Sometimes I think that's why I like acting, I can pretend I'm someone else and then it's not me who fancies men. It's Puck or Peter or whoever I'm playing." 

He stroked me more and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"An older boy I fooled around with at drama club said that was all shit, and it was all cos my dad had pissed off years ago. But he was doing Psychology at Uni and used to come out with some right shit, so I think that's bollocks."

I understood his words and his honesty and I adored his leg from knee to mid-thigh in acceptance of them.

"He did talk shit,"  I agreed with the boy, "Though he pedals only the shit he has been taught.

But, Jacob Brat, never pretend to be a character .....you must BE that character, and be Jacob Brat at the same time.

So who, beautiful boy, is sitting in my lap now? Jacob Brat or a figure from the world of make believe?"

"Jacob Brat," I giggled at the name he had given me quite liking it. "When I'm alone with a man like you I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not."

That's wasn't the whole truth. With a girl or boy my age I would probably not be as confident, more tongue tied and nervous. With him I felt like I was the one who knew what he was doing, so could be confident and flaunt myself without fear of a rejection becoming public.

His answer sent a thrill through me, though I tried hard not to show it, just gave his lovely leg an extra squeeze.

"So now I can answer your earlier question and also pose another, of even greater importance. Shall we begin with that? I guessed he was waiting for me to demand he reveal more of himself, and almost laughed out loud at the look of surprise on his face when I asked him if he wanted Chinese or Indian for supper.

"Chinese, I don't like Uber spicy food."  I grinned at him, guessing he wanted to play with me a bit and tease answers out rather than get them all at once.

Still, both of us could tease. Reaching into the pocket of my trackies which were  still on the floor I grabbed my mobile phone and clicked it.

"Yeah hey Mum, yeah I'm ok."  I gave Mr Williams a smirk enjoying the look on his face.

"Yeah I'm fine, nah you don't need to come get me. He's not too bad. Yeah I'll call."

"Jacob Brat is also Jacob Wicked," I grinned when I'd got over the shock of him phoning home and realised he was playing tricks on me. Well, fair enough, I had surrendered control the moment I failed to object to him removing his clothes, and, to be completely honest, I felt I got the better part of the deal. He was lovely naked.

He had to dismount from my lap to eat, and while we ate we talked more of cabbages and kings than anything else, though the cabbages did include how he managed to cope with school and rehearsals and performances and how lucky he was that his school was so accommodating.

Food consumed, we returned to the lounge, me to my favourite chair, and Jacob lingering and casting hinting glances at the bag of weed he had left out on the table.

"Very well," I conceded, pretending to be unwilling, "Just one, to go with my answer to your question."

"If I go to do a play or a film I have to have a tutor and can't shoot for too long so it costs a bomb. That's why I only do short run stuff in school holidays."

The Chinese was good and I'd nicked a prawn from his plate, giving him a grin. Flopping on to the sofa I rolled a spliff and took a puff, wondering if he would sit back in the arm chair or dare come and join me.

"If I do the movie Sandy wants I'll have to do nothing else for like nine months. Mum wants me to go to the fancy school instead."

I took another puff and held out the spliff, tempting him to come closer.

The Brat did as I said and rolled only one, but he also gave me his wicked look, challenging me to object, and rolled an extra large one. I liked him more and more, every time he displayed his naughty nature; he was pure boy, and in a situation where he could revel in being boy with no fear of retribution and he was making the most of it.

He was now challenging me to go and sit beside him, to make it plain and clear that I wanted him, and oh, did I want him!

But, if there was ever to be some sort of relationship between us that meant anything at all, then he was going to have to come to me, he had to give himself, not be taken. So all I did was to get out of my chair, take the spliff from his and return to my chair.

I don't doubt he was surprised, but I didn't look to see.

"If you do what your fairy queen wants," I said as I seated myself again, "Then you'll make both you and him a lot of money. And," I added after a pause, You'll be like one of Prospero's actors, faded into thin air by the time you're seventeen." I blew weed smoke into the air, nice smoke rings that faded into nothing to illustrate my words.

I furrowed my eyebrows a little as he took the spliff and sat down opposite me. I wanted him to come and sit beside me, to touch me more, but right now he seemed to be playing his own game.

"It's going to be a fucking terrible movie," he made no move to hand the spliff back even when I held out my hand for its return.

"I get like ten lines and they're all terrible, and the rest is total shit. But they will sign me up for a guaranteed sequel so Sandy is desperate for me to do it."

The spliff still wasn't returned and I gave him a little scowl.

"I've been offered better stuff but for like less money. Like the arts channel want me for Troy, but him and Mum are dead against it."

I nodded, acknowledging his words and ignoring his silent pleas for the return of the spliff.

"If you go to stage school," I continued, "Then you'll enjoy more sex of all imaginable varieties, and possibly some you haven't imagined yet. You may also learn how to move properly, you might learn a little about sword work and possibly, though I very much doubt it, you may learn how to speak. You'll get bits in adverts, possibly some kids' tv and maybe a few bit parts in a film or two. What you will learn is that your future depends more on who you sleep with than if you can act or not. Pick the right leading man or woman and you could be made for a year or three."

I scowled more. He was cynical, thinking only people who fucked the right person got anywhere and I guessed a lifetime alone had made him that way.

"So what do you suggest?" I asked him sullenly.

There is a third alternative," I said calmly, refusing to be irritated by his held fast belief that talent alone lead to success, "If you truly want to be an actor, a real actor, to experience the bleak hell and sublime heaven of making an audience laugh or cry, and do that on stage, in front of real people and not a camera and a computer, then you could find someone who will teach you how to speak, how to worship every word the bard ever wrote, and find something worthwhile in other works as well. You'll make no  money, but, if you have it in you, then by the time you're twenty you'll be playing decent parts in big houses with other real actors. You'll work and you'll sweat blood and tears and one day you'll be playing the really big stuff and then the Hollywood pimps will be after you again, but this time you'll make real films, not fifth rate crap."

Now, after letting him think for a few seconds, I held out the spliff to him. Message clear - come to me if you want it, stay where you are if you don't.

"And I guess that person is you, yeah Mr Williams?"  I padded over and took the spliff, standing and smoking it so I was just out of his reach.

"And how do I know you don't want to just fuck me, that would make me one of those people who just sleeps with people to get parts wouldn't it."

I took another longer drag on the spliff, then another before holding it out to him.

"Yes, that person is me, and if you accepted then you'd carry on living with mum, who undoubtedly adores you, and you'd work with me weekends and holidays, and all the time you'd know I longed and lusted for you. The touching of you was, is and will always be, your choice and yours alone."

I took the spliff, had a deep drag and crossed my mental fingers.

"You think you'd get near touching me if I didn't want it?" I smirked at him and took the spliff, sitting back in his lap and holding to his mouth so he could take a hit before taking one myself.

"You want to take me to the sofa?" I held the spliff out in case he needed some courage.

"I cannot think why any boy, let alone one as beautiful as you, should want to get within a hundred miles of my reach," I said, and meant it too, "But if one particular boy should want this foolish, fond old man, who's bedtime is not quite nigh yet, to teach him everything he knows, and drag him screaming to the realisation of his talent, then his time on this planet will not have been wasted."

"I guess you're hired then," I told him regally, smirking as I did so.

"I'll fix Mum and Sandy, if the play isn't shit it will be easier, so you better make me good."

"The fairy queen will rant and rave, and call down all the devils in hell upon both you and me." I couldn't help smiling so wide I thought my mouth would split apart. "The play won't be shit, Jacob Brat, it will be the best thing I have ever done, and I have, in my time, done the stage some service," I misquoted deliberately and more than a shade boastfully. "Whither would you lead me, fair youth?" I asked, looking at his outstretched hand.

"I think the hour is late," I told him, still smirking, "and I think I'm going to lead you astray."  I gently took his hand, smiling as it shook a bit and started towards the stairs.

"If you want to stop I won't mind," I told him before we got too far, "like I won't tell, but I know who will get blamed if people find out. If it's too dangerous I won't be angry."

"Fuck the danger," I almost hissed, "For one thing I've hidden from that danger for far too long, and for another, it's you who are placing yourself in real danger, not me. The worst that could happen to me is a few years in a prison cell, you are risking your whole future."

We reached the top of the stairs, three more paces and we would be in my bedroom. "Think again, if you want, Jacob Brat," I said softly, "I haven't got a clue what I'm supposed to do."

"Then I'll try and teach you this and you can teach me acting."  I giggled as I led him into his bedroom, he was hungry now, I could see it in his eyes, and that excited me more.

"What's the naughtiest things you've dreamed of doing with a boy?" I giggled as I flopped back on to his bed so he stood over my naked body.

"I can only say what my thoughts are now," I admitted as I gazed at his beautiful young nakedness. "I want to hold you and kiss you and taste every inch of you. But, more than anything, I want to make you happy."

Stupid and cliché; surely Will would have found far better words?

I smiled, getting back up and wrapping my arms around him so our bodies were pressed together.

I half expected him to cum straight away and I was a little surprised to be rewarded just with the feeling of his hardness through the robe. His arms stayed still and I took his left hand and placed it on my right bum cheek.

"Dare ya to squeeze it," I giggled at the look on his face.

I knew I was a wooden statue as he pressed his body against me. My poor, never before used cock, hardened, embarrassing and rewarding at the same time. I began to tremble as the warmth of his flesh seeped through my gown. How can warmth give you goosepimples? And then, when he took my hand and placed on his bum, daring me to squeeze it, to adore it, to worship it, I pulled his face into my shoulder. It may have seemed like affection, perhaps it was; it may have seemed like desire and, again, perhaps it was, but, more than anything, it was so he couldn't see the tears in my eyes.

I let out a little oooph as he suddenly hugged me in tight, crushing me up against him. The feeling of his strength, at least compared with mine was a bit scary but also intoxicating, and I ground my body against this as his hand flexed a little.

"Squeeze it," I was crushed into his shoulder and couldn't see his face, but could feel him tremble and his heart pound in his chest.

"Squeeze it," he commanded me, and so I did. Why should he want me to squeeze his bum? Is that what men did to boys? Is that what boys liked? It must be because he told me to do it, so I did. And when I did I understood why men squeezed boys' bums! The soft-hard roundness, the slow and sharp sweeping curve of flesh from back to top of thigh. The sheer warmth, no, heat, of his body concentrated in two globes of boy. I gasped at the glory of how he felt in my hand and I squeezed and rubbed his firm but yielding flesh until I felt that, perhaps, I had done that too much and so I stopped, but didn't take my hand from his wonderful warmth.

"Don't be scared yeah," I knew that was pointless, that he would be terrified, that he was like I had been the first time I had kissed someone or felt their body. He was just an adult doing it, and I realised that made it worse for him because adults are supposed to know more than fourteen year olds.

"Feel it more, I like it," I put his right hand on the left cheek and wrapped my arms around his neck so I crushed in against him.

Now both my hands were on his bum and he was telling me he liked it and wanted more of it. I knew he was being nice to me, kind to me because I was an old virgin fool, and he was surely expecting more than this, more than having to tell an old fool what bit to hold and squeeze?

But he did feel so wonderful and I allowed, no, made, my hands feel, squeeze and knead his bum cheeks until, by mistake, a thumb found itself on the crack between his cheeks, more than on it, almost actually inside it, and I shot that hand away as though it had touched something red hot. That, surely, was a forbidden place, there I must be careful not to go near again.

I wanted to say 'sorry, I didn't mean to', but I held my breath instead, hoping I hadn't offended or disgusted him.

I jumped a little in surprise as his finger grazed my  bum hole and maybe it was the movement which made him pull the hand away like he had been stung.

"You can touch me there," I reassured him gently, "just put some cream on it if you're going to get it inside."

He looked shocked and I giggled. "I finger it all the time, it just gets sore if you do it dry."

"Inside?" I gasped, and pushed his face away from my shoulder to see if he was taking the piss out of me. I wouldn't have blamed him if he was, it must have been awful for him having an old virgin paw at him in such an inexperienced and clumsy way.

I forgot, in that moment, why I had hidden his face in the first place, and though I wasn't actually crying as such, my eyes were certainly more than a little wet, and I knew he noticed.

"Inside?" I repeated, "Cream?" What world was I in?

I was a bit shocked to see he was crying. This had seemed like a game to me but his face was wet with tears.

"It's cool," I tried to reassure him, smiling at him to show I didn't mind. "Like if you wanted to get a finger in my hole," he looked none the wiser and I marvelled at how he had got to the age of fifty or whatever he was and didn't know how to stick something in your arse to feel good. Like even old people have the internet don't they?

"Watch," I took the bottle of moisturiser off his dresser, (being fourteen I was used to improvise some lube), and got on all fours on his bed.

"Put a bit on your finger yeah," I coated the middle finger of my right hand in cream and used my left to spread my bum cheeks so my hole was on display.

"Then the finger goes in here," I teased my hole with the finger, rubbing the entrance until I couldn't resist anymore and pushed it inside with a loud moan.

"Oh my God," I gasped as he pushed a finger inside his bum hole. Was he expecting me to do that to him? I couldn't! I'd suffered a prostate examination or two and they had hurt like bloody hell, I couldn't do that to him, Not hurt him.

I felt hopeless and helpless, a player with no part to play, or a player who has forgotten what part he has to play. My mind went back, unbidden, to the first time I had anything like a big part. It wasn't very big, but it was important. Mercutio in R and J, and I was standing in the wings nearly wetting myself, certain that I'd dry or even worse, die before I was supposed to. An old hand, a guy who'd been around since Adam, whispered to me, "Have a pee lad. Use the fire bucket, been used often enough before. Then empty your mind, take a deep breath and go out there and just say what comes into your head. So I had, and when I finished Queen Mab there was a silence, and I thought I'd fucked it all up, but I hadn't. I got slapped all over my back when I went off stage.

Well, I couldn't have a pee now, but I could empty my mind and just say what came into my head, even though I had no idea what the right lines were.

"Would it be okay if we got into bed and had a cuddle, and then you can tell me what you like, and what you'd like me to do?" I asked.

"Sure," I pulled the finger out of my hole, feeling empty but seeing he wasn't ready for that. He already looked like he had seen a ghost and I didn't want to give him a heart attack.

"Just cuddle me for a bit," I patted the bed next to me, "and I'll tell you what I like and you can see if you want to try it."

"Oh, I'll try it," I actually smiled, "If I give you a note in rehearsal I expect you do follow it. Well, this, for me is a rehearsal and you're the director. Give me a note and I'll do it."

I don't know if a boy has ever gone to bed with a man before under those same terms and conditions, but it seemed appropriate now.

Then I froze again. To get into bed with him I had to remove my gown. Then he would see me naked, see, that like him, I did not have hair where he would expect to see hair. What would he think? That I was just some old perv who was toying with him, pretending to be something I wasn't so I could get him into my bed? Well, too late now, I couldn't stick them back on.

I patted the bed again, unsure if he was having second thoughts.

"Don't worry, I don't mind if you're hairy."  He looked really embarrassed now and I gave him a smile. "I haven't got a six pack or any of that shit," in my eyes my body was skinny and awful, though I was finally beginning to look a bit less like a scarecrow.

"Not hairy now," I mumbled, "And sod six packs, you're beautiful."

I undid the belt of my robe, slipped it off, and when his eyes widened in shock at the sight, I tried to explain as I fumbled my way into bed.

"After.....well....after earlier......and when you said......" God I was like a tongue tied adolescent! "You said you'd........well.....you'd do the same for me......well.......I thought it would be too much like Beauty and the Beast so I tried to de-beast myself a bit."

I waited for his hoots of laughter, but there weren't any.

He had shaved off his body hair to be like me I realised and gave him a shocked smile. Most men who like boys my age aren't very thoughtful, they can be fun but not do anything which might incriminate. Sex is usually top of their priority list.

"Feels good doesn't it," I rubbed the patch of skin above my cock which was the only bit of my body I needed to shave. Well mostly I used cream, but this weekend I had also shaved my arms and legs to get rid of the short white fluff which grew on them.

"You're not a beast, not in here anyway. As a director maybe," I smiled at him to show I was joking.

"So you going to cuddle me?"  I rolled on to my side, facing him so it looked a bit less like I was ready for sex.

I didn't need to be asked that, and he didn't need to be asked either. I opened my arms for him and he melted into me, my arms round him and his round mine. Pressed together from top to toe. A knee of boy pushed at my thighs, hinting for them to open, and when they did, leg of boy followed knee between them so we were interlocked. My cock, which had wilted with embarrassment when I removed my gown, wasn't embarrassed anymore, and his had never been, two probes pushing against other flesh; one very hard boy probe and one as hard as it could get which wasn't as hard as it got when it was Jacob Brat's age, but was still reporting for its first, and long, long overdue duty.

I ran a hand up and down his back, taking note of each and every bit of his spine, and then his face was close to mine, his breath on me so I breathed in his scent, and I wondered, if our mouths got any closer, we'd find ourselves kissing.

I moaned as his hands ran down my body, warm in his embrace.

He didn't want to grope me or `touch me up', though I suppose technically that's what he did, but rather run his hands over my body as if he was exploring it and trying to commit it to memory.

Everything was fascinating to him, my spine, my neck, even my rib bones which were visible on my pigeon chest. He ran his finger up and down the right side for a few minutes, before shyly exploring my belly button.

"It feels nice," he gave me a shy smile and I moved my mouth in to kiss him. He was far too shy to do anything at first, but I insistently nibbled at his lip until he let my tongue inside.

And then we did. I didn't know how to do it properly, I knew there was something about opening the mouth, but I didn't know it was so the kissing people could swap tongues. Not until it happened and I lost contact with reality. His tongue was in my mouth and, somehow, mine was in his and they were twisting together, twisting and searching and I couldn't stop a hand from forcing itself between us and grasping for his cock. I shouldn't have done that, not without him telling me I was allowed to, but I did. I couldn't help myself, I just had to do it.

It felt incredible. How can a few inches of blood-filled tissue feel so incredible? It was hot, hard and throbbed in my groping hand, and he didn't stop the tongue twisting to tell me to get my hand away, if anything his tongue became more urgent, probing around in my mouth and he was making little moans at the same time that somehow seemed to buzz in my head.

I couldn't feel his cock in detail, we were pressed far too close together for that, but I knew, the moment it was possible, I was going to explore every detail of it. If he allowed me to.

I moaned as he grabbed my cock, held it tight and started to wank it. His hand was bigger than mine and his grip stronger, and he pumped me hard then faster as we tongued each other.

I knew that he wasn't trying to hurt me but as his grip tightened I knew I would be sore tomorrow this way. Grasping his hand I wanked it slower, hoping he got the idea.

I was doing it wrong. I knew I was doing it wrong when he grabbed my hand and tried to hold it still, but it couldn't have been too badly wrong because his tongue was still in my mouth.

Was I being too forceful? Pushing too far and too soon?

I needed to breathe to relax, so I broke off the kiss, gasped for air, released his cock and my grip on his wonderful body.

"Sorry, Jacob Brat," I mumbled. "I couldn't help myself. You are just so wonderful."

"It's ok, it's cool," I giggled and moaned into his neck as he cuddled me in.

"Just not so tight yeah," I loosely held his cock and slowly wanked him. "Like that, I cum quick so not too fast."

We kissed some more as I wanked him, me moaning into his mouth as we did so.

"I don't want you to cum," I confessed, "Well, I do, but can it be like last time when you do? You know, in my mouth?" I was scared that again I was asking for something I shouldn't ask for, but the taste of him had been so......so utterly desirable, that I wanted it again.

"I want to feel you and lick you and kiss you all over," I admitted, once more saying just what came into my head, "And I want you to tell me what you like best of all so I can do that for you. Doesn't matter what it is," I tried to make it sound like the normal thing to say, "Your favourite thing of all. Tell me and I'll do it."

I giggled, "If you really want to do what I like best then you've got to lay back and let me suck you."  He looked pretty shocked at that and I guess I couldn't blame him. Boys my age aren't supposed to list giving blow jobs amongst their favourite things.

"I like sucking, want to make me happy, then you need to let me suck you. I want to be the first to do it."

"You want to do that? I know you said you'd show me how to do it properly last time, but I thought that was just to make me feel better about being so bloody awful at doing it for you."

I wasn't going to say no, though, and lay back, waiting for it to happen.

I sniggered, "I guess I just like the taste."

Richard Williams looked terrified as I got between his legs, but that soon changed as he screwed his eyes closed and moaned. An older boy had taught me how to suck properly and I gave Mr Williams the benefit of my experience. I didn't just take him into my mouth, instead I licked at his cock slowly, sucked on his balls and teased the end with my tongue before at last taking the tip inside and swirling my tongue around it.

"Oh God," found its way from my mouth as Jacob Brat gave me a lesson in how to please a cock. God, he must have hated the pathetic effort I'd given him!

"I'll do it better next time," I promised, "Now you've shown me what to do."

Then I settled back to enjoy the wonders he was treating me to. He was so gentle but even so he devoured me, and what he did to my balls was unbelievable.

"Not too much," I was forced to gasp, "Or I will cum and it will all be over."

"So?" I was always ready to cum soon after spunking so couldn't see the problem.

Richard Williams on the other hand seemed desperate not to and I didn't want to freak him out so tickled and teased him until I knew he could take no more without shooting.

"You can spunk in my mouth, I don't mind," I told him gently. "I won't go when you cum, promise. I'm sleeping here tonight, if that's cool with you."

"What's stronger than 'cool'?" I smiled. I wanted to say he could sleep with me every night and it still wouldn't be enough, but even the thought of one night with him was a paradise in itself.

"I'm not fourteen," I had to stop a grin, "If I cum I'll probably go straight off to sleep and that would be a terrible waste of the night."

I found a hand belonging to him, held it and squeezed it. Somehow that was even more important than holding his cock had been.

I gave him a smile as he held my hand and shimmied up the bed next to him. Rolling over I clambered on top of him so I was lying flat on his body, his cock pressed into my stomach and my head on his chest.

"Am I too heavy?" I weighed under 9st but I wasn't sure if I was crushing him.

"Wouldn't care if you were," my smile was one of pure happiness, "What a wonderful way to go, crushed underneath Jacob Brat." My hands went round his back, but though they started at shoulders, they didn't linger there, glorious as his shoulders were. The slipped down, coming to rest just before the swelling of his bottom while I looked into his eyes, waiting for permission to continue.

I giggled as he looked at me, he was so nervous and needed permission to do anything.

"Feel it if you like, even inside if you want," his hand wavered for a moment as if he was fighting himself before he finally moved it on.

He told me I could, so I did, and with even more enjoyment than the first time. I knew from the way he'd said 'even inside if you want' that he was more than giving permission for that, he wanted that to happen, but wasn't asking for it openly because he didn't want me to feel too much of an idiot, not knowing what to do, what was allowed and what wasn't.

I did slip a finger into his crack and he wriggled a bit so that finger could get to his, what he called, hole' and the feel of it, hot and urgent, was another bolt of electricity. Queen Mab came back into my mind as I oh, so gently, probed at that part, which seemed to have a life of its own and seemed to pulse and twitch as my finger stroked it.

"I'm probably being disgusting," I croaked in a whisper, "But do boys like being kissed there?

I moaned as he rubbed and probed my hole. He wasn't inside me, just teasing the entrance a bit but the feeling still made me pant and grind myself against him as he explored my crack.

"This boy does yeah," he was red faced and I guessed he didn't really know how to rim someone, that this was just something which seemed like a crazy idea which had occurred to only him.

"I had a bath this morning," He looked at me as if to say why are you telling me this and I had to laugh. "You got to make sure someone is clean before you do it," a look of embarrassment and realisation on his face and I stroked his chest to reassure him.

"If you let me I'll kiss yours."

"You would?" Pure shock! Not horrified shock but amazed, astounded shock. It had seemed to me an extreme idea, one born out of a desire to taste every inch of him, but he was a beautiful boy and I was far from beautiful and a very long way past being a boy. Why should he want to do that to me? Sex, perhaps? He was, I already knew from just him being naked almost the whole day, from his intensely erotic rendition of Puck, that he was a very sex-minded boy, so perhaps this was all just more sex for him.

Well, if it was, then I wasn't going to complain, fuck his motives for lying naked on top of me, I was in heaven for every second of it, and if it was, for him, nothing more than sex, well, I'd settle for that any time. That wasn't true, I wanted Jacob Brat, not just his body.

"I want you to be happy, enjoy yourself," I said, rather stupidly, "I want you to feel good."

I was an ignorant old virgin, I didn't know any of the details of what went on in beds between men and boys, but I did know the basics. "Does that mean you want to fuck me as well? I do know men do that to boys, but does it happen the other way round as well?"

"You don't go on the net much do you Mr Williams," He looked blank and I gave him a kiss to reassure him. "Like whatever you think only you like, someone else will have made a vid of it."  He looked at me blankly and I went back to kissing him which was something he did understand.

"Maybe not tonight yeah," in truth I had never fucked anything or been fucked in, return, and while I had done most other things a boy my age could do I was enjoying feeling like the experienced one in our relationship and didn't want to reveal my inexperience.

"It's called rimming and I like doing it," he gave me a scared look and I smiled. "Roll over and I'll show you."

I did, and he did and I exploded! Nothing like a prostate examination! His tongue, lapping around simply set me on fire! Heaven knows what sort of noises I made while he did what he did, but one thing I was sure of - those sort of noises must be made in heaven all the time!

If I could make him feel even a fraction as good as he made me feel then that would be more than I could hope for.

"I've been frightened most of my life," I made another confession when he'd finished sending me to bliss, "Because, when I was just starting in weekly rep, one of our company, a really nice guy I thought, got locked up for being caught with a boy. No-one should be locked up for giving pleasure like that to someone else."

"I won't get you caught," he looked scared as he told me the story but in my heart I knew it wasn't really up to me, that if others ever suspected then even the rumour of it would be enough to destroy him.

"I won't ever tell," it was the best I could promise as I snuggled back into his chest. He had missed a bit of hair in his crack and I would have to help him get rid of that later but I had still enjoyed rimming his hole. It had been tight, even tighter than mine, and I guessed that my tongue was the first thing to penetrate it. I had licked and sucked at his opening, and at first he had seemed determined to clamp it closed even tighter. But then as he moaned and groaned he had opened it just enough for the tip of my tongue to pry it open, and then his moans had grown in volume to tell me he was enjoying what I was doing.

"You want to try?"  I knew he did but didn't want to force him if he wasn't ready.

"I'm not worried about you telling, Jacob Brat, "I am worried about not being able to do things properly, and terrified that you won't want to see me again. No, not that you won't want to go to bed with me again, I don't think for one second you'd want to do that after the mess I'm making of things; I mean just see me and not look through me as if I weren't there."

I looked shocked now, he really didn't like himself and I felt sorry for him.

"If every performance was like polished to perfection the show would be boring," I tried to explain it to him in a way he would understand, "and this is the first time you've seen the script isn't it."

I cuddled into him trying to reassure him.

"I want to see you again,  not just when you direct me but afterwards." 

 Tears then, but not ones that he could see because I buried my face in his bum. Clumsy turning him over, awkward in parting his bum cheeks and desperate when it came to getting my mouth there.

I didn't try to copy what he'd done to me - he knew what he was doing and I didn't, but I did know what I wanted and while I was there I just did what I wanted. I tasted all round that place, I ran my tongue over it, I pushed the tip of my tongue at it and almost burst inside when that tongue tip found a way in.

He didn't complain, didn't tell me to stop. but he did make noises and I hoped that they were enjoyment noises, but I was far too absorbed with my own enjoyment to worry about that.

I kissed him there, I pursed my lips around him there and sucked in and after I sucked in I pushed my tongue out and went inside him again and I carried on doing that until my jaw ached so much I had to stop. I didn't want to stop, I wanted to feast there forever, but mouth ached too much so I just had to end that voyage into bliss and turned him over again so I could rest my head on his lower stomach, his young hardness against my cheek.

I moaned as he turned me back over and rested his head on my stomach. His tongue had felt good inside me, and my cock throbbed and leaked on my belly as I felt his breath on it.

He had been hesitant at first, licking and tasting around my hole but that had somehow intensified the pleasure and I had been ready to cum when he finally stopped.

"I need to spunk," he looked shocked and worried, and I guessed he was worried I would leave if I did so I stroked his hair to reassure him. "I'm staying in your bed, so if you want to sleep alone you've got to go to the spare room." He smiled at the joke and I stroked his hair more.

"Want to suck me while I suck you?"  He looked amazed at the idea, as if trying to figure out how it was possible and I stroked him more, enjoying the feeling of his hair in my hand.

  I wanted his cock in my mouth, I was only waiting for my jaw to ache a little less before daring to go for him unasked.

"Is that doable?" I grinned, "If it is then it has to be done." I sniggered at a naughty thought, I'm not given to having those sort of naughty thoughts, but I had one now. "My mouth is at your cock's service, young lord, bid me, I pray, how that may please you most."

I looked up from his cock to his eyes, hoping that he'd share my attempt at humour.

"Oh yeah it's doable," I smirked at him and scuffed around so my head was by his groin.

His cock wasn't huge, but it was `adult' sized and that excited me, just like the sight of my teenage sized cock excited him.

"Then service me," I told him regally, "and perhaps your lord will service you in return."

"I exist but to do your bidding, lord," I said to his young, throbbing cock, "But first, I pray, some worship would I make, for my young lord is a thing of beauty and doth call to be admir'd all around."

I wanted to taste all there was to taste, not go too soon to the ambrosia he would feed me.

So smooth above his young glory, so smooth his balls and the place between balls and thigh, so smooth his wonderful legs and all demanded worship from my tongue, and, unbidden, that worship they received.

And then his cock; a slender young teen cock, a shade browner in colour than the rest of his skin, with a head that tapered rather than bulged. A head still skin covered even though he was up full hard. A skin, I thought, perhaps like my own, a skin that stays in place, not peeling back with ease, and after I had worshipped him with my eyes I took him in my mouth and gently tested with my lips how far he peeled, sighing with contentment when no more than half of what lay beneath revealed itself to my tongue.

Taken from my mouth I rubbed it round my face, wet and hot and pulsing, and so good it felt.

A gentle kiss to the tip, "I am ready, lord. What now must be done?"

I moaned as he licked up and down my body, seemingly desperate to taste every inch of me with his tongue.

"I'll suck you while you suck me, and we both have to try and cum together."  I wondered if he was ready to spunk, well in one way I knew he was ready as his cock was rock hard by my face,  but I wondered if he was truly ready to spunk inside me. That would be crossing a line and I gave him a reassuring smile.

"Only if you want to though," I wanted to taste, to find out if he was a big spunker and see if his cum was thick and gooey like the other men I had been with. Mine was still a bit watery though I had noticed it changing recently, but it still wasn't quite like that produced by the older men and boys I had fooled around with.

"Bit like playing farce, isn't it," I sniggered, "Timing is everything and if the timing goes wrong you just have to improvise."

He wanted me to spunk in his mouth, and, to be honest, that did scare me more than a little. True, I had loved the taste and texture of his cum when he shot in my mouth earlier, and I craved that taste and texture again, but I was still thinking of him as a boy of fourteen, an innocent boy who might be disgusted at the flow of my spunk into his mouth, a place where I wanted so badly for it to flow.

And that I did tell him and all he did was smile.

"You're not the first man I've sucked off."  He looked both relieved and disappointed at that, and I stroked his leg to reassure him.

"But I didn't like them like I like you," he looked surprised at that but it was the truth. The few other men I had been with had been furtive encounters from the net, with no time for the soft affection he seemed to revel in. Some might have wanted to cuddle and kiss me, but meeting in the back seat of a car or a public toilet wasn't really conducive to that.

"I like spunk, I eat my own when I wank."  That seemed to shock him most of all and I had to laugh. "So do as your lord commands and feed me," I told him regally, an order he seemed happy to obey.

"My wish is your command," I deliberately mixed the usual order of the words because that was the truth. What he wanted was what I wanted as well, so I took him in my mouth again and sighed a sigh from the heart as he took me in his.

No rush this time, no meaningless gobbling, no just having him in my mouth as if that was all there was to it. This time I really did worship, not just his cock but his lovely balls as well.

I was surprised how perfectly they fitted into a mouth, one at a time or both together, it was obviously a natural home for a boy's balls, being in a man's mouth.

I used my tongue on his cock, peeling him just a little with my lips and swirling round the exposed bit; I slowly licked the underside, from balls to tip and I gently licked at the slit where his spunk would shoot from, surprised and delighted by the sweet taste of whatever it was that oozed from it.

And all the time he was doing similar things to me, though he was also holding me and wanking me with his fingers at the same time. I could only do that to him if I only had the very tip of his cock in my mouth, so I didn't because, greedily, I wanted it all, and all of it fitted in so easily.

I moaned around his cock as it filled my mouth, tickling the shaft with my tongue as I slowly wanked him.

He tasted good, his cock still a bit slick from my previous suck and I teased the length of his cock which wasn't in my mouth with thumb and forefinger as he moaned around my own dick.

He had taken the whole length of my cock into his mouth, more restrained this time but still clearly hungry, but his was bigger as there was no way I would be able to get it all inside.

Still, there were other ways to please him and slipping my free hand into his arse crack I tickled his hole with my finger. It was still slick from my tongue and it only took a small amount of pressure to slip my thin digit inside him.

Lucifer, or it may have been Peter, grinned evilly in my mind when he started to use a finger in my bum. Whichever one it was unlocked the gates to a new level of heaven or hell and his finger was inside me. How it got in there without me yelping in pain as I had when a doctor had shoved a finger, carefully covered in a plastic glove, inside me I had no idea, but hurt it did not. His mouth round my cock, his finger inside me was bliss beyond bliss and I had to do the same for him, My finger found his crack, his hole, his hot, wet hole, and it seemed to get pulled inside by magic, into a hot, velvet wet of a totally new nirvana, one where men and boys belong together.

His finger found my prostate and my finger found what a prostate feels like, and while his finger explained to me what a prostate is for and what it does, I tried to show him as well.

And then, as all my insides seemed to gather together just before they all shot out from my cock, my mouth filled with the ambrosia of boy I craved.

He was a big spunker, big in volume and consistency and I happily gulped down the thick goo he fed me. It seemed to go on forever, maybe forty years of spunk were stored in those balls, and I choked and snorted out some through my nose without him noticing.

"You taste good," I told him when he was finally done, laying on my back with my head near his feet. I knew I was a mess, my body sweaty and spunk stains obvious around my mouth and nose but I doubted he minded.

"Still want me to stay here tonight?" I wondered if he would want to pretend this had never happened after coming. Some guys did, wanting to pretend that what they had just enjoyed so much had all been a mistake once their need for release wore off.

"If you leave, then tomorrow you will find me a grave man," I said, even now unable to stop myself from quoting or misquoting the Bard. Not my words but sincerely meant by me.

I hoped he didn't think I was being crass, that I was over doing it, hamming it up. And I tried to show that by fondling the most easily fondled part of him, which just happened to be a glorious, smooth thigh. "How can a boy's thigh be so beautiful?" I wondered, unintentionally aloud.

"You really think so?"  No-one has told me I was beautiful before, well apart from Mum and that didn't count, and I smiled shyly at him pleased at the compliment.

Wriggling round I snuggled into his chest. He liked cuddling me and I had discovered that I liked to be cuddled. If Mum had tried to do it I would have been appalled, but with him it somehow felt ok.

"Never doubt it," I said softly. "I am an arsehole, but, as a boy once said, I am an honest arsehole. I do not, as so many of our honoured profession do, speak only to flatter and deceive. You are the most beautiful thing that has ever come into my life, Jacob Brat."

Time for sleep now. He was fourteen, had indulged in three spliffs and taken me to heaven. I had more than forty years on him, and being in heaven for the first time is exhausting.

A cuddle and a gentle kiss to his forehead and he turned over, snuggling his back into my front and I reached over him, found a hand and held it softly. Why, I wondered as sleep came to me, was holding his hand so much more important than all that had gone before?

I woke twice in the night. The first time was because he woke me by the movements and gasps he made while having a wank.

"You can't do that," I blearily gasped, "Not here, not now," and I went down on him, put just the tip of his lovely cock in my mouth and did his wanking for him, gaining my reward of more ambrosia.

The second time he was all the sexual Jacob Brat I'd come to adore. I woke to find him astride me, his cock urgently pushing at my mouth. I opened, welcomed him inside, eased his cock into my cheek and let him do what his body was demanding him to do. The ambrosia was thinner this time, and less of it, but the taste was just as wonderful.

 

 

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