Disclaimer:  The following story is a work of fiction, a fantasy actually.  It is not based on any real persons, living or dead.  It does contain graphic descriptions of sexual activity.  In most countries of the world you must be 18 years old to read it, so stop now if you are not 18 years old.  And if you are offended by vivid descriptions of sexual activity between boys and men, do not continue reading.

 

The standard disclaimers and conditions apply, which you should have read when you entered this site.

 

Please consider donating to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

 

If you enjoy this story then by all means contact me at richt4t1958@gmx.com. I love feedback, but please don't send me any indecent images or abusive mails. I will immediately bin those and block the sender. Friendly comments will be welcomed.

 

Thanks to J for the editing.

 

Richard Darby Stories.

 

A 5 part story by Richard Darby.

 

What's it all about, Alfie? - Part 5.

 

When I went outside the cinema, he was waiting on the pavement. Now I could see him properly, although it was dark, I was impressed. He did have blonde hair, and he was in his mid-twenties, and he was good-looking, and he had a nice shape about him. He wasn't a big man, but neither was he small. If things were normal and I'd seen him in the street, I definitely would have given him a second glance. He gave me a big grin and waited until I was by his side, and then he said, "Come on. I'm parked on the lorry park about a quarter of a mile away. Do you know where it is?"

 

"Yes. By the new supermarket," I replied.

 

Again he grinned at me, and then he asked, "What's your name?"

 

I said the first name that came into my head, "Jimmy."

 

Another big grin. "I'm Al. Nice to meet you Jimmy. Have you done this before?"

 

I shook my head. "No."

 

He must have been able to see that I was apprehensive, because he said, "If you're a homo like me, then it's easy. But it's your choice. I'm twenty-four. How old are you Jimmy?"

 

"Fifteen."

 

"You're a good-looking boy Jimmy." Then he grinned. "Must be my lucky day!"

 

That made me giggle, and then I asked him, "Where are you from?"

 

"Manchester. I do this run twice a week. I drive for an industrial electrical engineering company. I deliver all around this area from Gloucester down to Taunton and across to Reading and across the other way to South Wales. I do about sixty deliveries on each run. I set off Monday morning and get back Wednesday about five, and then they load me up at night and I come down on Thursday morning and go back on Saturday. I do the same thing every week. I like to base myself in Bristol when I'm down here now. I've just had a new DAF truck with a sleeper cab. It's bloody lovely. I used to sleep in the driving cab before I had it, or go in digs."

 

"Do you park up here every night when you're down here?" I asked him. (By now, because he was so easy-going, I was finding it easy to talk to him.)

 

"Yes. I can sort my run out so the last delivery for the day is near Bristol. If I've got deliveries in Swansea, I'll go there first thing in the morning and work my way back. Before I had this new truck, I used to park up in Gloucester. By the docks there. Then at night I used to go in The Ship Inn there. Have you ever been to The Ship Inn at Gloucester, Jimmy?"

 

I shook my head and gave him a puzzled look and asked him, "What's so special about The Ship Inn?"

 

He giggled. "It's a pub where all the homos go. It's a great place. Lots of truckers get in there at night." Another giggle. "You'd be surprised how many truck drivers are queer. They can hide it at home, but they don't have to when they're away. So they get in The Ship Inn when they're stopping in this part of the country." Then he added, "If we get to know one another better Jimmy, I'll take you up there one night."

 

I giggled myself and then said, "I'm too young to get in pubs."

 

Al laughed. "Not in The Ship Inn you're not. There's all sorts get in there. Kids who like to dress up in girls' clothes get in there, as well as normal queer boys who want a bit of sex. I've seen kids a bit younger than you in there, but they're usually with their own partners and are not for sale, if you know what I mean. Just the odd one might have it off with a driver if they get paid for it. Most are with their boyfriends and go there because they don't have to hide who they are."

 

I remember I was amazed at what Al was telling me. I'd been living in my own small world when I was with Dom's dad, and all the while I'd been in that small world, there was a big world 'out there' where people like me could be themselves. That's when I woke up to the reality of gay life. But perhaps it's as well that it took me until I was fifteen before I was really introduced to the gay world. My very own Mr Wolf had been not only my sex partner; he had also protected me from the predatory life that can be the gay world at times. (I learned later in life how dangerous that world could be for little kids just discovering their sexuality, but at fifteen I was completely ignorant about such things. From the bottom of my heart, thank you Mr Wolf for keeping me safe!)

 

We reached the lorry park and Al weaved his way through the parked trucks until we came to his, which had all the curtains drawn. He pointed me towards the passenger side and then went around the other side. I stood there for a moment and then saw the lights come on in the cab. Then the door opened my side and Al told me to climb up and get in.

 

It was lovely inside. It smelled new. I looked behind me. The curtains to the sleeper compartment were open and I could see the bed. There was a sleeping bag rolled up on it. I was as nervous as hell. Then Al took his shoes off and climbed into the sleeping compartment, pushed the sleeping bag to one end, and then grinned at me and patted the bed and said, "Hop in then! I won't bite you!"

 

So I slipped off my own shoes and climbed into the compartment and lay down. Immediately I had, Al reached across me and drew the curtains across, and then he leaned over me and looked into my face and said, "Are you sure you're okay with this?" I nodded. He grinned, and then he said, "Brilliant! Now let me get to that gorgeous dick of yours Jimmy."

 

Al did all the initial work. He opened my jeans and pulled them down, along with my underpants, until they were by my knees, pushed my upper clothes up onto my chest, and then he straddled my ankles and went down and put my dick in his mouth. He'd obviously done this before. He was an expert. So was I, but at that stage I wasn't going to tell him I was. He was fantastic, and unlike Mr Wolf, he was into fifteen year-old boys. He gorged on my dick until I could stand it no more, and then I shot what spunk I could make by then into the back of his throat, and not a drop did he spill. It all went down his gullet. He, obviously, liked fifteen year old boy spunk!

 

He came up the bed and lay beside me and looked down into my face, and asked, "Did you enjoy that Jimmy?" I grinned at him, and nodded. He grinned back at me. "Fancy doing it to me?"

 

"Are you clean?" I asked.

 

He nodded. "I always make one of my last deliveries at a place that has showers. I hate being dirty. Clean as a whistle, Jimmy. Trust me. But I will wear a condom if you want me to."

 

I thought about it for a moment. Al didn't know it, but I loved spunk. It was a part of my gayness, and sex without spunk was like having a Cornish Cream Tea without the cream. So I shook my head, and said, "No, don't wear a condom. It won't be nice for you if you wear one of those. I'll do it without. How do you want to do it?"

 

For an answer, and not bothering to pull my jeans up for me, Al rolled over onto his back, shoved his own jeans and underpants down, and pointed where he wanted me to go, which was in the 69 position. "You don't mind if I suck your dick some more while you're sucking me off, do you Jimmy? I know you've just cum, but I'll be gentle with you. You've got a gorgeous dick and balls."

 

So I did as I was told and let him get my semi-hard dick in his mouth before I started on him.

 

Al's dick was just a bit bigger than Mr Wolf's. And it was a nice one. It was also only the second man-dick I had ever had hold of in my life. That's why I was fascinated with it. It was a different shape to Mr Wolf's. Al's was just a bit bigger than my dick, but it was curved upwards like a banana, and he didn't have a foreskin. That was novel! Also, he had lots of pubic hair. Mr Wolf always shaved his off, so that was different. That was a downside. I was never into pubic hair. But whatever, I wasn't in the Ritz... I was in a trucker's cab and I had a brand new dick to suck on, which meant, if I did my job properly, would provide me with some much needed spunk.

 

Al must have thought all his birthdays had come at once. Despite wanting to pretend that I was a novice, once I got hold of that lovely dick and I felt Al's lips and tongue working on my own dick - which became hard very quickly because he was doing that - and his hands and fingers began playing with my balls and my bum cheeks and hole, there was no stopping me. At the age of fifteen, I could deep throat. That's an art that a boy slut learns naturally if his gag reflex isn't too sensitive. It takes years of practice, but I'd had years of practice. (I'll bet that new boy Mr Wolf got hold of could never suck a man-dick like I could, and I'll bet my arse that Mr Wolf missed what I could do with his dick, even though I was too old for him.) So Al got the full works, and when he shot his load, I'll bet no boy before or since has ever got it down him like I did. And it was bloody delicious! My thoughts were confirmed when, after it was all over, Al said, "Bloody hell Jimmy... that was the best blow job I've ever had in my life! Where on earth did you learn to suck cock like that? You're only fifteen for Christ's sake!"

 

I never did tell him, and neither did I tell him how I was also the best fuck he'd ever had after he put his dick up my bum and I allowed him to fuck me. And at ten o'clock at night, when I left him, and after I'd made him fuck me three times and suck me off twice, I'll bet a pound to a penny that he went to sleep straight away when I left him. He was knackered. Me? I was also knackered, and my legs were like jelly as I walked home, unable to keep a grin off my face. But when I got home and was in bed, I did have another wank while I was thinking about what had happened. Mr Wolf had shut me out of his world, but I was now into a new one. As one door closes, another one opens. That was certainly true for me.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Now let's talk about love. Not sex... love. I had a few crushes on a couple of blokes when I was with Mr Wolf (I never loved Mr Wolf as in proper loving him because I loved him), but when I met Al, that was the first time I ever fell in love properly. It wasn't a crush... I fell in love with him. I really liked him a lot the first time we met, and after I'd met up with him a few more times, I really did fall in love with him. It was a crazy time for me. Not only did I want sex with him, just being in his arms and being kissed was fantastic.

 

Al lived in a place called Marple, which is a suburb of Manchester. He wasn't married or anything. He'd left home and was buying a Victorian, two-bedroomed terraced house. He lived alone, which worked out perfect for us. I've told you that I lived with my parents and they were shit, so in my mid-teens I was as feral as fuck. And I'd left school. I did what I wanted. So on the Saturdays, after Al had done all his deliveries, I went back with him and stayed weekends up there. Then I met him almost every night in Bristol while I was staying with my parents during the week, and we had sex in the sleeper cab. And I went to The Ship Inn at Gloucester with him a few times.

 

It was a brilliant place. Although I was a young looking lad, nobody batted an eyelid when Al walked in with me. I didn't drink beer. That would have been stupid. Being under-age was no bother being in the pub, but the landlord had strict house rules about kids drinking.

 

I remember the first time Al took me in there. Some of the lorry drivers were like bears around honey. Only when they saw I was Al's boyfriend did they leave me alone. A few still tried it on, and I had my arse and dick grabbed a few times when I went to the toilets. But I was safe in the pub. The place attracted lots of the local queers and male transsexuals. It wasn't a place for lesbians; just homos. Al was right when he said kids got in there. I made friends with a couple. One was pretty much like me, and another liked dressing in girls' clothes, and he wore makeup. And it was always busy. Packed to the rafters on some nights. I was learning. Sexually, I fancied quite a few of the drivers, but I was in love with Al and I wouldn't double-cross him. And Al loved me. So, by the time I was seventeen, I was Al's fuckbuddy as well as his truckbuddy, and I'd left home and moved in with him at Marple. Then something happened when I was nineteen.

 

It was 1977. What I haven't told you is that, even if I was a feral kid and I didn't bother with my education a lot, I was a clever kid really. As a matter of fact, school subjects came naturally to me and I was near the top of the class in most things when I was at school. But my real talent was art and architectural drawing. Both Mr Wolf and Al would marvel at the ease at which I could draw things and design palaces and skyscrapers and bridges. Buildings were my forte. I absolutely loved architecture. If I wasn't fucking, I was drawing. So, when I was nineteen and going with him on his journeys had become boring to me, Al got me into night school in Stockport to stop me getting bored. Because I was a natural, that led to me getting a job at an architect firm in Manchester, and by the time I was twenty-one, I was getting bloody good at it. And also by that time, me and Al had parted and I was living in digs. (We had a big row and I walked out on him.)

 

And I was twenty-one when I discovered another lover: Eric Salmons. He was forty-five and was the boss of the firm that employed me, and was married with three kids; the perfect hidey-hole for a queer man back in those days. I knew the moment I gave him my portfolio to get the job that he fancied me. You get to know who does and doesn't fancy you when you've been a practicing queer since you were ten.

 

Then, about three months after he gave me the job, on the pretence that he wanted me to accompany him on a trip to Berlin to see some clients, it gave him the perfect opportunity to come on to me. That day, after we'd been to the Olympic Stadium at Grunewald and I was completely enthralled at the architectural design by Werner March, we went back to our hotel and had a few drinks. One thing led to another, and that night I shared a bed with him. Thinking back, he must have thought he'd won the Sexual Lottery. He got the works from me. I'd had no spunk for ages and I was getting desperate. He was pretty much a novice. By the time we went back to the UK he wasn't. His wife never gave him a blow job like I did, and no fuck he ever had with her was as good as the ones he had with me. So he set me up in a nice house away from his home and I became his secret lover. I was pretty good at this secret lover stuff.   

 

So one thing led to another, and when I was thirty, because he was too possessive and a really jealous bloke, I left Eric and my job and moved to London and got a job there. And after a couple of years working for that firm and I'd got to know the scene, I started up my own business.

 

This brings me to where I am now, in 2017, now I'm fifty-nine. Well, I'm married to Ralph, who is also my business partner. He's ten years older than me and we love each other. We're great companions too. But the world today is a million miles away from the world I grew up in. This is a brave new world where being gay is pretty much accepted as the norm. The social stigma has gone away.

 

Ralph is the only person in the world who knows everything about me, and he only found out fairly recently.

 

We'd been to the theatre to see Billy Elliot - The Musical. I'm not one of those people who show their emotions in public, but when we were in the theatre, I was moved to tears by it. What hit me most was seeing the small boys who played the characters of Michael and Billy. I've never been an effeminate queer, but I could empathise so much with Michael's character and his relationship with Billy, that I was in tears. It reminded me of me and Dom. And when Billy danced Electricity, that's when I really broke down. Billy was expressing his love of dancing, but I saw his freedom song and dance as an analogy to my own situation as a feral little kid with a high libido; a boy who was different insomuch that I was gay and  was trapped within a world that looked down on boys like me; a gay boy who liked men.  

 

Anyway, after the play and we'd had a meal out in town and I'd drunk too many glasses of wine, when we got home, I got the third degree from Ralph. He wanted to know why the play had affected me so much. I remember his exact words when I was sitting on the sofa with him and I began sobbing again. He put his arms around me and asked, "What's it all about, Alfie?"

 

So it all came out... everything, from the time I first had sex with Mr Wolf, right up until I met Ralph. We didn't have sex that night. Ralph held me in his arms and loved me like nobody has ever loved me in my life. And the following day, although we never flaunted our sexuality at work, I was sitting at my desk when two dozen roses arrived. There was simple message with them. It said: You're the most beautiful person in the world, and I will always love you. Ralph. xxx. Because we never discussed our affair at work and I am not an effeminate person, the girls in the office never knew who was the who in our relationship. Those roses gave the game away and I had lots of hugs and kisses from them as the day went by. Why not? They now knew which role I played, and I was one of them, even though I wasn't really.  

 

But I've never forgotten my roots. How could I? The best sex I ever had in my life was with Mr Wolf. I still get a thrill when I think how he molested me when I was a little boy. But I never look on it as molestation. I wanted it as much as he did. Perhaps more! Age doesn't even come into it. I was ten years old and I was as horny as hell, and I was a budding queer. It was fantastic. Thank God the cops never got hold of me back then. They would have ruined my whole life if they'd broken up the consensual affair I had with Dom's dad. It doesn't matter a jot that he double-crossed me. I'm older now and know how things work. He was a pedo, and pedos like Mr Wolf are attracted to boys. They aren't queer like me.

 

So what happened to my lovely Mr Wolf? I met him in town one day about six months after he'd found his new boyfriend. By that time I was with Al, and Mr Wolf had gone off my radar. I didn't give a shit for him. But I was civil with him, even if I was angry when we first bumped into one another. He asked me why I'd stopped going to see him. Sarcastically, I asked him if his new boyfriend was as good as me. He shrugged his shoulders, looked very sad, and told me that nobody would ever be as good as me. That calmed me down. I told him that nobody would ever be as good as him, and then I walked away and left him savouring those words. No doubt he remembered those words all his life. I hope he did, because I meant them.

 

And Dom? Well, we went our separate ways as we grew older. He got married and is now the grandfather of a small boy. We never see each other, but we are Facebook Friends. He knows I'm gay, but he never mentions it. Why would he? We never did any gay stuff together, and I'm pretty sure he never found out about me and his dad. He probably thinks I grew up to be gay and met men when I was older. It's a good job he doesn't know his dad was sucking me off in his bed while he was asleep beside me when we were ten years old. I think he might unfriend me. Don't you! LOL. Yes, it's just as well that he (and a lot more people) don't know what a sex bomb Alfie Summers was when he was a little kid.

 

So what is it all about, Alfie? My answer to that would be to get your sex wherever you can, as soon as you know you're old enough... but be damned careful and choosy about who you do it with! Not many in life are like my lovely Mr Wolf.

 

The end.

 

................................

 

Richard Darby. richt4t1958@gmx.com