Date: Sun, 11 Oct 1998 20:21:53 +0100
From: Storyteller_2@Yahoo.com
Subject: Wim in London

This is the second story in the Wim & Kris series (Breakfast Meeting).

I have had comments on the previous story that it was a bit slow to start
off. Please remember these are stories with a beginning a middle and end
and a sexual content.  Threads are purposely woven into them for other
related stories to be posted at a later date.

I would like to thank all the readers who have 'E' mailed me and Nifty.Org
for posting the Story.

In the story that follows all the people and sexual parts are pure fiction
and should be read as such. It does not mean the author promotes/agrees
with sexual activity between mature men and teenage boys. Some of the other
stuff is factual, Well The City of London is still there, aeroplanes fly
and you can get a good meal in the City or the West End.

If you are not of a legal age in the area you live, if it is against the
laws of your Country to read material like this or you are offended by
homosexual behaviour, man/boy relationships etc. etc then go away and read
the works of Captain Pugwash and if you do, don't forget Seaman Staines!

                         Wim in London
                        by Storyteller_2

Part 1

When we last saw Kris he was at 23,000 feet over the North Sea heading back
to London from a Breakfast Meeting and 10 days in Amsterdam where he met
young Wim Van der Valk and his friends. For those who haven't read
Breakfast Meeting a clarification of Kris and Wim's rules:

Rule 1         The truth between the two will always maintained.

Rule 2         Kris always makes the final decision after taking into
		considerations Wims points of view.

Rule 3         All actions by each of them must be with each others
		explicit consent.

Chapter 1

My arrival back in London.

The pilot pulled back the throttles and made a standard approach to runway
27L. He was obviously on auto land as you could hear the ILS making minor
adjustments to the throttles to keep the aircraft on the glide slope. There
was a whirring noise as the flaps came down and a clunk as the wheels
locked in position. The lights of London could be seen out of the window as
the nose came up and a screech from the tyres as the main wheels hit the
runway. As the aircraft slowed the nose wheel came in to contact with the
ground and the co-pilot started his clean up of the airframe. We taxied to
a gate at terminal 4. I waited for the few passengers ahead of me to rush
off, having only hand baggage I wasn't in too big a hurry. I collected my
luggage and Duty Free and my whole Dutch cheese from the overhead locker
and de-planed.

I love that expression, de-planed, it means got off!. I could here Wims
voice in my mind saying, sarky sod, sarky sod and left the aircraft with
the first smile on my face for over 3 hours.

Entry to the Country formalities over I grabbed a cab and told the cabby my
address. He was not pleased. I only live 3 miles from LHR and that meant he
wasn't going to make a fortune taking me the 15 miles into Central
London. Tough shit mate!  I need a ride home. We exited on the A30 and in
about 15 minutes I was outside my front door. I let myself in.

It was cold outside but the central heating was on and the house was as
warm as toast.  I de-planed! my overcoat, kicked off my shoes made my way
into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cuppa. The kettle boiled, the
pot warmed, the tea made I lit my first cigarette since leaving Amsterdam.
Wim would have been proud of me.  The tea was ready and I poured it into my
favourite mug and took a swig.

I moved into the lounge to see a flashing green light on the answer
machine. It is a clever machine, it actually talks to you, I must find out
how to get into the voice chip and alter the messages, to something like
you have 10 new messages asshole'! The mind boggled!

Actually there were only three, one from George (QC) to get in touch
regarding the things he had found out about EU law and adoption, one from
my Daughter-in-Law to tell me my Grandson had two more teeth and could now
take 2 steps unaided and Oh and would I let them know when I got home so
their minds would be at rest. The last one was from Wim, "Kris please ring
me when you get in." I gave my kids a quick call to let them know I was
home and everything was fine. I dialled Amsterdam. There was half a ring
tone and the phone at the other end was answered, before I could say a word
Wims voice said,

"Is that you Kris?"

"It is, is everything all right, are you OK?" I said, two questions in one
breath.

"Yes it is and I am now. All I wanted to know was that you got home safely
and you were OK."

"I'm fine," I said, "flight was fine and I'm into my first mug of tea."

"I wish I could have made it for you."

"I wish you could have too, so I will pretend that you did and will taste
all that much better." I looked at my watch which was still on Amsterdam
time.

"Time you were in bed, school in the morning."

"Kiss me goodnight," he said.

I made a kissing noise on the back of my hand and said,

"Goodnight, sweetheart, God bless and I'll see you in a fortnight."

"I'm off to bed now that I know you are safe," he said.

I heard a kissing noise down the phone and a whispered "Goodnight, I love
you," and the phone went dead. I really didn't need that! I felt as
miserable as sin, God I was missing him like mad and it had only been a
couple of hours. I finished my tea and went upstairs to bed, the first
night on my own for 10 nights saying under my breath, shit! Shit! SHIT!
The alarm woke me the following morning with a steaming hot cup of tea. I
have by my bed an alarm clock which combines a tea making machine. It is
very old but still works a treat. It is made by a company called Goblin.
The machine is called a "teas made" There was a rumour that they were going
to call it a "teas maid" but changed their minds when it was pointed out
that people might get the wrong idea when you said you had a "Gobbling Teas
Maid" by your bed. When I was at work we used to have a young lad make the
tea they could have called it "Tea Boy" Takes all sorts to make this world!
I drank my tea and lit a cigarette and put on the TV to watch the news.

Why is there never any good news? It's always gloom and doom. The Far East
stock market had plummeted, the President of the US of A had been caught
with his leg over a White House intern. The IRA were blowing people up
again, The British Prime Minister couldn't make up his mind over the Common
European Monetary Plan, Interest rates had gone up again and they were
making tunnels under a new motorway so Hedgehogs could cross the road
without getting squashed. Sod the Humans as long as the bloody Hedgehogs
could cross!

I turned it off, finished my tea and hit the shower. There was something
missing in the shower. There was no slim, vibrant 5'3" golden haired youth
with his arms round my neck and his nearly 6" poking between my legs
pressing my lips to his in a good morning kiss. Snap out of it Kris, you've
spent the last 10 years showering on your own, pull your finger out and get
on with your life. Come to think of it, I didn't even have my finger in!

Tea, toast and another ciggy and I was more or less on track. I looked at
my watch and nearly fainted and then realised I still hadn't gone back to
GMT. I put the watch right which made it a respectable 0900 rather than
1000. I looked out at the weather, sharp bright and sunny but looked a bit
like "brass monkey" temperatures with a hoar frost on the lawn. Time to put
the dirty washing in the machine. If I'm lucky I might even get them dry
outside.

I have a small detached 3 bed roomed dormer bungalow, 2 bedrooms upstairs 1
down.  Lounge, dining room, kitchen and a bathroom with shower completes
the layout. I use the large bedroom upstairs and the second one is used as
a guest room.  The one downstairs is used as an office. If I ever have an
influx of dossers then I can set up a foldaway bed in the office. Depending
who stays there is space in my bed as it is a double!

I retired to the office, sat down at the desk and booted up the computer. I
checked my E-mail'. 56 mail messages. It was going to take me all morning
to read them. I down loaded them all and logged off. I could read them at
my leisure, non were marked urgent. I popped into the kitchen grabbed the
biscuit barrel and another cup of tea, set the coffee percolator going and
decided to ring George. Back in the office I hit the autodial on the hands
free on the computer. The operator at the "Inns of Court" put me through to
Georges' secretary.

"He will be free in about 2 minutes will you wait. I can tell him you are
waiting!"

"Please, if you wouldn't mind."

"Oh! He is free now, putting you through."

George answered with the usual pleasantries, "What are you doing for
lunch?"

"Not a lot," I said.

"Right I'll see you at the usual place about 1230, OK?" and he hung up.

That meant I had to be in Central London in just over an hour, the only way
to make it was on the bike. Good job it was fine weather. I got dressed
pulling on my thermals not very sexy but riding a motorcycle in England in
February you made sure you are kept warm. As the place we were going for
lunch was a bit posh I dressed for the occasion, suit and tie etc. I have
one of those all in one waterproof suits which goes over your everyday
clothes and my shoes go in the top box so I can go anywhere on the bike in
all weathers but it has to be special for me to venture out on it in the
winter. This was special. I walked into the restaurant at exactly 1230. The
head waiter greeted me like a long lost friend and showed me to a table in
the corner.

As I was sitting down George walked in with another guy with him. They both
came and sat down. The chap with him was introduced as Phillip who was the
one he was telling me about. He was the one who had done some work on child
adoption from the Eastern Block. We ordered. They had a G&T and when I said
I would have a 7UP their eyebrows disappeared into their hair line.

"On the bike" I said. Their eyebrows came back into sight.

I filled them in about what Wims father had been hinting to both me and
Wim.

"Good," Phillip said, "because if he doesn't agree then you haven't a hope
in Hell."

"Not even if we could prove abuse?" I queried.

"No, they would just put him in a foster home."

"So what if he did agree?"

"Ah, well that is a different kettle of fish."

With that the starter arrived, which was fish! The soused herrings were
delicious. We finished our starter and Phillip had just started to say,
"Now we come to the meat of the problem," when the main course arrived.
Steak! I laughed out loud which had the other two puzzled.

"What's the joke?" George enquired.

"Kettle of fish, meat of the problem. What are you going to say just before
the pudding."  They stopped chewing and Phillip realised what he had said.

"Well, it's the first time I've heard you laugh since before you went to
Amsterdam," George quipped.

We continued to argue the pro's and con's and the outcome was that they
would fax me a list of viable options. The conclusions of two of Britains'
best legal brains was if Wim's "old man" agreed they could tie up a legal
agreement giving me custody until he was 18, one that even the European
Courts of Justice couldn't argue with. That was good enough for me but not
water tight. I hoped in my heart of heart that Wim would not call me and
ask how things were going as I could not break Rule 1. I would have to tell
him straight what the Legal Beagles had said. There were ways of not
breaking Rule 1 and not letting Wim know what had been decided but that was
splitting hairs and acting like a Politician and I was not about to play
that game with a loved one.  The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the
truth. If you can't stand the truth then you should never ask the question.

I donned on my motorcycle kit and rode home.

The week passed slowly. My kids came round on the Sunday for Sunday lunch.
Both my son, Phillip and daughter in law, June kept giving me penetrating
looks. Eventually Phillip said,

"What's on your mind, Dad?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh come on! My ESP is working but with not living with you for the last
few years I can only get you are troubled about something."

"You are right son, but will you trust me and don't push it at the moment.
All I want to tell you at the present time is that I met a young boy who
lives in the hotel I stopped at in Amsterdam. He was being physically
abused. I showed him the photo's I had taken in Amsterdam. I'm trying to
see if there is anything I can do. He is coming over for a few days holiday
in a couple of weeks."

"You don't have to say anymore. Have you been to see George?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"Without parental permission, not a hope in Hell."

"Well, let us hope he gives it then."

"Thanks, son."

June said with some concern in her voice, "Well you did a good job with
this one, but you are a lot older now, do you think you could cope?"

"I haven't a clue, we will just have to wait and see," but I knew what she
meant.

We all fell silent until my grandson pulled himself off the floor to a
standing position by grabbing my crotch and squeezing my left testicle. The
silence was broken by my expletive and by hell it does make your eyes
water. I never knew a one year old had such a powerful grip.

Monday morning arrived and the telephone rang as I was in the shower I let
the answer machine take the message. I came out of the bathroom having
completed the 5 S's and poured a cup of tea, taking it in to the Office to
check the answer machine only to find it was a fax and not a telephone
call. Ah, that'll be from George, funny it's a bit short.  I picked it up
and found it wasn't from George but from Amsterdam. It was a typewritten
note from Wim's father giving me Wims flight details for the Friday
evening.  KLM flight KL1027 arriving LHR at 1920 local. I guessed Wim had
sent it because you could see where a sticky note slip had been stuck on
the bottom with "See you Friday.  I love you," written in Wims handwriting.
I bet he removed it before giving the original back to his father! With
that the machine started again. This time is was from George, five pages of
legal bumph. I drank my tea and read it about three times before I started
to understand what it all meant. Lawyers and computer programmers talk in a
language all of their own, I'm sure they do it to confuse everyone else.

I had just finished reading that lot when the thing started again.  Have
you ever tried to read a fax as it is coming in when the silly bugger at
the other end puts the paper in arse first so last comes out first and if
it is more that two pages long they mix up the page order. I'm sure there
is a Murphy's Law to cover it! I used the time to pour a coffee and get
some toast and marmalade. It was from the outfit I had done the consultancy
work for in Amsterdam. Was I free to go to a meeting at the WTC the Monday
after next?  I'll say I was. That would mean I could go on the Sunday
evening and take Wim home myself. I typed a reply confirming I would be
available and asked them to confirm how long they wanted me in Amsterdam,
was it just a one day job or longer?  It would mean that Wim would have to
go home a day earlier than he thought but I didn't think that he would mind
doing that. I busied myself reading and answering the E-mail and the day
passed pleasantly enough.

The week dragged on and it got to Thursday. I decided that it was time to
draw up an itinerary for Wims 10 day stay. One thing I will say about
London there is always somewhere to go and lots to see. I guess he would
like to do the tourist bit and it was years since I had done it so that
might be fun.

With it being Winter there wasn't many tourists around so that would help
things a bit.  Even at this time of the year none of the attractions are
closed, just not many people there. Providing you are well wrapped up it
can be fun. You can't go sunbathing in Hyde Park but you can scream around
an indoor Go-cart track.

I drew up a list of attractions which were a must and then a host of other
things from which he could choose. If he wanted to see half of them he
would be here for at least two months! If the weather was kind some of the
places we could do on the bike. Parking a car on the street in Central
London is horrendous and very expensive at two and a half pence a minute
with a maximum stay of two hours, whereas on a bike it is free for as long
as you like. I also had one or two restaurants I wanted to take him.  "Time
for bed," said Zebberdi, shades of the Magic Roundabout. (An old British TV
cartoon character)

Friday came. I went through the house with a fine tooth comb, tidying up
and cleaning and putting clean linen on my bed and the one in the guest
room for Wim. I smiled when I was in the guest room, I bet he never even
sits on this bed! The telephone rang. I looked at my watch which said
1545. I answered and an operator said she had a Wim Van der Valk calling
from a Public Phone box at Schipoll airport and asked if I would pay for
the call. Of course I agreed. On the other end was this excited voice,
"I'm just about to board the plane, you will meet me won't you?"

"Yes of course. I will wait for you at the exit channel, you will recognise
me because I will be wearing a black dress with a tarantella, high heeled
shoes and a red rose between my teeth, clicking my maracas."

He giggled and said, "Clicking your WHAT!"

"Maracas."

"Oh! I thought you were sounding you K's funny. I can't wait to see you,
must go, love you."

The phone went dead. I turned on the TV to ITV teletext and looked up his
flight number. According to the info from the BAA his flight was on time.
Good that gave me an hour to finish up and prepare a meal for when we got
home.


Chapter 2

Wims arrival

Friday night

I was driving along the Southern Perimeter Road at 1910, 10 minutes before
Wims plane was due to land making for the short term car park. The planes
were landing on 27L so I could see them coming in as I drove along. I saw a
blue and white KLM plane on finals. It could only be the one I was to
meet. I parked the car and made my way to the arrivals hall. I checked the
indicator board and the KLM flight had just landed. I wondered if he had
Hold baggage or just a holdall as cabin baggage. I hoped the latter as it
would mean he would be out sooner. I sat on a chair with full view of the
exit gate.  LHR has more than one million passengers a week so it is always
busy.  You have to keep your eyes peeled to spot who ever you are meeting.

The doors opened and Wim walked through looking a little bit bemused.  He
looked around and spotted me in an instant. His face lit up like a thousand
watt bulb and he broke into a run. About two yards from me he dropped his
bag and launched himself through the air, arms outstretched. I caught him
in mid air. His arms went round my neck, his head buried into my neck and
he gasped,

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

He let go and picked up his bag. I told him to stick close and follow me. I
need not have bothered he had his arm round my waist in a bear hug. I
watched his face as he looked around and I paid the car parking fee.

"This place is huge, I wouldn't want to get lost in here."

"There are three more terminals like this, I told him and they want to
build a fifth"...  We got to the car. I told him to put his bag on the back
seat and then get in the front with me.

"Don't forget to put on your seat belt," I told him. "It is against the law
here not to wear a seat belt in both front and rear seats." He climbed in
the front and duly fastened the belt.

"How long before we get home?"

"About 10 to 15 minutes. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I haven't eaten since lunch." The seat belt allowed him to stretch
over and kiss me on the cheek.

"I'm afraid I can't return that, not while I'm driving."

"No, but you can when we get home," he grinned.

In fact he seemed to have had a permanent grin on his face since he saw me
at the terminal. I turned into the drive and drove down to the garage.

"Are we here already?"

"Well if we are not somebody will want to know why I've put my car in their
drive and outside their garage. Come on lets go in?"

He retrieved his bag off the back seat and followed me inside.

"I'll show you to your room and you can unpack later." He gave me a
quizzical look and followed me upstairs. I turned and led him into the
guest room.

"This is nice," he said but with a question in his voice.

"All your clothes, etc. must be in your room, it doesn't mean to say you
have to be in your room!"

"I see," he smiled and dumped his kit on the bed. He took off his coat and
jacket, turned to face me and just put his arms up. I slid my arms round
his waist and pulled him close.  His arms went round my neck, he closed his
eyes and let his head roll back his lips slightly apart. I bent forward and
pressed my lips to his. The kiss started as a gentle lip to lip getting
stronger with our tongues greeting each other and progressed to a full
blown passionate embrace.

"God, I've wanted that and more for over 10 days now!" he sighed.

"So have I, lets go downstairs, you said you were hungry."

"Are we going out for a meal?"

"Hell no! I've prepared a special meal for us".

"Oooh! What is it? - beans on toast?"

His backside got a clip. "Ouch!"

"You haven't been beaten again?" I said with concern.

"No, I was only kidding, what have you got on the menu."

"Starter is an Iceberg lettuce leaf lined with smoked salmon and in the
centre four Quails eggs with strips of Anchovy. Main course is grilled
Sirloin steak, creamed garlic mushrooms and chips (French fries), side
salad with blue cheese dressing and pudding is Banana flambe with
Cornish ice cream."

"You're joking. Now tell me what is really for dinner."

I showed him to the dining room and sat him down. "Don't move till I tell
you to - Rule 2 applies." He sat still not believing me. I got the starter
out of the fridge, lowered the potatoes in to the hot oil and lit the gas
on a low light under the garlic mushrooms. The grill was hot but the steaks
would go in later. I walked into the dining room and served the starter.
His eyes were like saucers. He ate without saying a word until he had
cleaned the dish.

"I've never had that before but I would like it again. Where did you get
that from?"

I pointed to my temple and told him it was one of my own concoctions.  I
nipped into the kitchen and put the steaks under the grill. The rest of the
meal went like clockwork.  He insisted he wanted to see me flambe the
Bananas so he joined me in the kitchen to see it done. We ate the bananas
and I poured two coffees with Tia Maria and cream.

"You never told me you could cook."

"How the Hell do you think I got this belly?" I grinned.

"I thought you must eat out a lot."

"I can't afford to pay restaurant prices for meals like this, that lot
would have cost us 80.00 pounds in a good place in the West End, as it was
it cost about a tenner (10.00 pounds)."

"Well it was fan-tas-tic. Do you need a hand to wash up?"

"No, thank you, son, it will all go in the dishwasher, but you can help me
load it up if you like."

He looked at me with a look that would have melted stone. "That's the first
time since I got here you have called me SON"

"It won't be the last, lets go and sit in the lounge and talk."

We sat side by side on the leather settee and I could tell something was on
his mind. I asked him what was troubling him.

"I can't deceive you but I was told by my father that I had not to give you
something until the day I was going home, even now I'm afraid to give you
it."

"How mysterious, what is it that you mustn't give me and is making you
afraid."

"I'll go and get it from my room."

He dashed upstairs and was back in about 30 seconds flat holding a letter.
I took the letter and saw my name typewritten on the envelope. The look of
abject apprehension on Wims face made him look like a little boy again. I
put my arm round his shoulders, leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

"It can't be that bad, my love".

I sat with the letter in my hand as the Americans say between a 'rock and a
hard place' or as we Brits say between a 'shit and a stink', in other words
undecided what to do. I got up and went in to the office, Wim following
like a puppy dog. I put the letter unopened in the desk drawer.

"Thank you, my son, for not keeping a secret from me, it shows your level
of commitment to me. Now I know about the letter there it is not a secret
between us but I think I'll leave it there until we get on the plane on
Sunday evening".

I could see a confused look come over his face.

"What do you mean when we get on a plane on Sunday," tears welling up in
his eyes,

"I thought I was going back to Amsterdam on Monday. Have you forgotten I
don't have to be at school till Tuesday."

"I've got another meeting at the WTC on Monday morning so we go together on
Sunday."

He stopped crying as the news sank in to his little head. I wiped the tears
from his eyes and one of his beautiful smiles lit up his face. His arms
went round my waist and he hugged and hugged, his head buried in my chest
whispering, "I love you, I love you," over and over again. I put my hands
each side of his face and turned it upwards, he closed his eyes and our
lips met. His hands moved to the back of my head and he pulled me into a
passionate embrace. His hands moved down my neck and slowly down my spine
finishing cupping my buttocks. He squeezed and pulled so his body forced
itself against mine. I matched the position of his hands with mine on his
buttocks. Still locked in our embrace we started to grind our pelvic areas
together. I could feel his penis rock hard against mine which was in the
same state. We both started to breathe heavily. I broke the kiss and
whispered in his ear,

"I love you."

"I love you more," he said

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

This exchange of words got quicker, like the old song Anything you can do I
can do better' till we both collapsed in a wave of laughter. The mood was
broken and we made our way back to the lounge and sat in separate
armchairs.

"How long are you coming over for?"

"I don't know, I'm waiting for a fax to confirm the arrangements."

I moved the conversation around to a different tack. I suggested we live
for the present for the next nine days and then we could decide what was to
be done in the future. He agreed and said he would put all his fears to the
back of his mind and not mention things like that till I did.

"What have you got planned for the next few days?"

I gave him the list of things to do and see and the other list of choices.
He sat for a good 15 minutes with comments like "Oh good; super; Oh,
brilliant; fantastic; Oh, yes."

"I see you don't approve," I grinned.

"This is going to be fantastic. How will we get to these places?"

"By various means, tube (subway), car and if the weather is kind, the
bike."

He came over and sat on my lap and assumed the Wim position. I hugged him
close and kissed the top of his head. He did it again, he relaxed and went
to sleep. I looked at the time and remembered that when Wim was around it
went into time warp.  No wonder he was a sleep it was passed 2300 GMT so
his body clock thought it was tomorrow. I picked him up with ease, one arm
under his bottom, turned off the lounge lights and carried him upstairs to
my bedroom. I laid him gently on the bed and slowly undressed him. He was
absolutely dead to the world. He lay there naked on a warm bed. I took all
of him in. I'm sure in the few days we had been apart he had grown nearly
an inch or so in height. It was difficult to assess the other important
part of his anatomy as it was laid limp but his pubic bush had thickened of
that I was sure. I stripped, turned off the light and got in beside him
pulling the duvet over the top of both of us.

His subconscious must have been working because as he felt the heat of my
body he rolled over into his favourite position, the Wim position, snuggled
up to my side, head on my chest, arm draped across my body, mouth slightly
open and dribbling saliva on my chest hairs, one leg over mine. I kissed
his forehead, I was in heaven and drifted off to sleep.

I was brought back to consciousness by someone nibbling my ear. I laid
there enjoying the experience.

"What time is it?" I said in a low voice.

"Don't know" was the reply. I hit the top of my bedside clock which glowed
0230.

"It's still night!"

"I know," was breathed in my ear. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Good. Did you undress me and put me to bed."

"No, the cat did."

"You haven't got a cat," he giggled.

"Well, don't ask silly questions then." He bent his leg so that his thigh
brushed over my now rising manhood. I could feel his hard-on pushing into
my side. I slid my hand down over his buttocks gently stroking them.

"Oh, nice," he sighed.

His hand moved to my thigh gently rubbing and squeezing.

"More, more, that's very sexy." I said.

"Do you like that?"

"No, but the cat does."

He bit my ear quite hard. I retaliated by pinching his left buttock.  We
went back to gentle stroking. I let my finger slide between the mounds of
his buns gently massaging his anus. He moaned and pushed upwards letting my
finger slide in.. I found his prostate but only rested my finger there. I
turned sideways to face him, my leg over his, his between mine. The hand on
my thigh moved over my hips and his finger massaged my anus.

My other hand moved down and took hold of his throbbing boyhood. I let it
slide down so my fingers could play with his pubic hairs. I made little
circles with my finger and thumb twisting the hair together and then gently
pulling so it unravelled. My other fingers played with his scrotum and
testicles. I felt his other hand mimic my movements.  We were in unison yet
again. Sliding his finger in my anus he pulled me closer to him.  He
started to buck his hips slowly, his lips pressing hard against mine. His
breathing became heavier and more ragged. He sucked my tongue deep into his
mouth. I started to grind my hips against his lithe body, it was my turn to
suck his tongue. His finger moved in and out getting deeper with each
thrust, I matched his movements with my finger. We were both touching our
prostates. I could feel we were both leaking pre-cum giving lubrication
between our bodies. I knew we could not last much longer. I broke the kiss
and gasped,

"Do you want to slow down?"

He said through gritted teeth, "No, I need this NOW!" found my lips again and
pushed his trembling body hard against mine.

We both pressed our prostates at the same instant. Our bodies stiffened, we
held our breath, our backs arched causing our hips to grind hard into each
other and we shot and shot and shot load after load of thick white cum,
shudders running up and down our two pulsating, gyrating torsos.

We moaned and groaned down each others throats little shivers running from
our toes to the top of our heads and back down again. Our lips pressed
together with such intensity they nearly fused together. We slowly
disentangled ourselves and collapsed against each other. After about 10
minutes when his breathing had almost returned to normal he said,

"That was a mixture of absolute need, hard sex, pure lust and the pleasure
of doing it with the one I love. I needed it so bad I couldn't have slowed
down when you suggested we did, I hope you understand?"

"I understand my love", I breathed. We kissed and our arms entwined, our
lips met in a gentle embrace and we drifted off to sleep.

End of part 1

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