Date: Fri, 6 Jan 2006 09:16:21 EST
From: DT
Subject: Rebuilding My House

The accident had left me in hospital for six months. It resulted in
hundreds of thousands in my bank account, a few visible signs of the steel
in my back and the ceramics in my right hip, and tons of physiotherapy to
give me back my strength and my body.

The money (or most of it) I spent on a house in the little town five miles
west from my parents and friends, a choice I made so that I could become
independent. I wanted to start again and the site of the crash was the
other way east from my family home, on a road I would really never ever
need to drive down by my choice of a new place to live. I could forget that
nightmare in one way.

I started to work again from week six of being crushed between the
dashboard of my car and fifteen tons of truck, producing more graphics from
my hospital bed, pictures that had seen me never have a debt in my life,
from the sketches of animals for parents of childhood friends sold as
Christmas presents through to the promotional cartoons that helped my
University Radio station become more popular than its much bigger
commercial alternative in that grey crowded city I studied in for three
years.

The problem had been that during my convalescence, I hadn't recovered who I
was and it showed up my work. So when my compensation money had started to
arrive, I went into a spasm of guilt at my ordinary income going down to
that of a nobody whilst I protected that payment for all my injuries. I
don't mean the word `nobody' detrimentally to others, only to say that from
being able to cater for any client, I was being rejected and the hurt was
all my own creation (or lack of it) as everything I tried to produce was
dark and dreary and of little or no commercial value.

Two months holiday in Australia did me no good bar for one thing, and that
realisation made me complete the decision to buy my house and then spend
enough to create a bedroom, bathroom and a kitchen in its old walls, and an
office where I could go back to producing quality design, rather than the
stilted stuff that was not selling to all bar people who wanted that sort
of thing, thankfully a few clients.

This had all happened (my buying the house and having the renovation work
started) in late Winter and early Spring over a year after my crash. Two
weeks into my three roomed existence and with the warming up of the weather
in early May, I was ready to finish what I started by moving away, just far
enough so that I could find a boyfriend on my own terms

I had `christened' the house with an old girlfriend called Sally, but that
had been purely the need to be next to another human body after nearly two
years of nothing, the sex something I had achieved maybe with a dozen girls
without too much trouble from losing my virginity at age 17. A day on the
beach a few months before, watching some perfect Australian guys playing
volleyball had turned me to face what I really really wanted.

Meeting people, other men, made me think first of the internet and dating
web sites. However, I wanted to fall in love and to me that needed my life
in complete order before I started looking, so my house had to be
finished. I could not do that myself as my injuries meant my workouts were
all about cycling, swimming and using a huge frame for stretches and
bodyweight resistance. I could not compress my spine nor twist too much.

More than the insides where the hall, the dining room, the lounge still
needed fixing up, the front and back gardens were a real mess. I love being
out in the sun and open air from being a child and a built up bungalow was
nothing to consider in my house hunting until I had struggled through the
brambles to find the secluded huge back garden with its big trees and so
much room for having a green green lawn and a summer shed to turn into an
office.

My brother helped me clear the weeds with some weed killer spray that had
left its mark in the form of a desert of four weeks of plants rotting
away. The instructions from him were to not do anything until the poisons
had gone so when the sun decided to be summer warm I was ready and itching
to embark on a three month project where I could combine a big graphics
design brief with managing getting the work on the house completed. The
problems started with looking for help.

The first builder who came to the house took five days to respond to my
phone call. Standing next to his middle aged rough power, I realised that I
didn't want to have him in my house for twelve weeks. Glancing out to the
drive, the shirtless slob who would be his navvy was another reason not to
reply to his quote but it sparked a thought about having builders I would
enjoy looking at, as well as ones who were skilled and hard workers were I
to find them.

That created problem number two as the only other people to reply were as
old and looked like they enjoyed food and beer as much as the first
possible builder to give them a pair of guts of equal if not bigger size,
and they could not start until August. That meant looking for, to the point
of spying on, builders with the thought of going up to ones I liked the
physical sight of and asking them to come and work for me.

I pulled that off once; going up to a guy checking an order sheet for the
pile of bricks in front of a part new build, a man who could have been a
professional wrestler such was his physique. He accepted my story of being
new to the area and having a similar project I needed completing then
announced that he would be able to start in December, for no more than four
weeks work. He was a bit too aggressive to me for me to even think about
delaying things and I knew his price would be beyond my specific budget. He
looked like he knew what his smile, plus the two navvies who were just as
lean and almost as built as their boss, could command.

It was on a perfect end of an early May day, having listened to a weather
forecast which predicted a month of good weather, that I made another
decision about my being gay. I was genetically predisposed to being
creative so I would just find someone to do the work for me and I would do
the styling and properly manage everything! Only I would not be the
effeminate wrecks from the TV who made me want to hide my sexuality with
real ferocity.

My brother then came up with the idea of going down the Job Centre to find
someone there, or rather to ask for a kid who was the younger brother of
one of the two men who were doing his garden. All this relationships
linking took me walking just round the corner from where I now lived to
where I could meet my brother's landscapers finishing off another job and
discover why I should start the proposed charade. It took me a second to
decide that if this younger brother was anything like as good looking as
the god before me, then he could work for as long as I could afford to keep
him on.

`Go down the Job Centre and put an advert up for someone with landscape
experience ^Ö he's done lots of building stuff as well', said the shirtless
look a like of a slightly flabby tall Brad Pitt standing in front of me.

`You'll get some scabby bastards. They let you do an interview for a job
like you've got. What is it, £250 a week for 12 weeks?'

I nodded and had to push my sunglasses back up my nose so that he could not
see me staring at the slabs that were his chest, part covered in little
hairs and with big soft nipples set either side, soft through the heat. His
biceps rolled around on his arms as he worked.

`Derry is the man for you. He's my cousin', said the man as he shovelled
earth into a barrow from the pile on the road, `He got some girl up the
duff last year and he had a job back in town until they went bust. That was
last week and he needs to pay his money for the kid real regular, or else
she gets really shirty1'

`Oh', I replied, `Does that mean he can't see the kid, if he doesn't pay?'

`He doesn't want to see the little brat. Its just like its mother, spoilt,
and if it becomes the lying cow she is then I pity it', laughed the man,
`He just wants to lose his virginity so that he doesn't get this piss taken
out of him and he ends up with all the trouble you could ever want.'

`How old is he?', I asked, suddenly imagining a 16 year old who was just
being foisted on me.

`He's 20. He isn't no little kid!', replied the man, standing to full
height to signal some sort of offence, `Don't worry. If you are looking for
a hard worker, with lots of knowledge, then Derry is fine for you. He's
been working for four years. I'm not saddling you with a little rat!'

So two days later, with the temperature dropped by about 15 degrees and it
tipping down with rain all day (despite what the weather forecast had
predicted), I had posted a job at 10am at the local Job Centre, had a phone
call with an interview list sorted out by midday and was then interviewing
at four in a damp, cold partitioned office with no windows. Derry was last
in of the twelve `candidates'. There was one I liked the look of but he had
smokers fingers and looked really shifty all the time, just like a couple
of my school friends who had blown their brains up with dope.

Derry wore black track suit trousers, a sodden long grey coat and had a
woolly hat pulled down over his head. He looked like a farmer's hand, big
round face and wide lips, thin long eyebrows, a few curls of hair poking
out from under the hat, his neck hidden by three shirt collars pulled up to
his jaw, and two huge dimples adorned his cheeks.

He sat down and leant forward, pulling out the tooth pick from his lips
that had made me think of farms, offering me his hand. The handshake was
soft and firm at the same time.

`My name is Derry', he said, settling his face in his hands which were
supported by his elbows on his knees as he leant forward from the edge of
the chair

`You do landscaping?', I asked. Derry nodded, his eyes keeping on mine in a
gentle sort of way.

`You do bricklaying?', I asked and Derry nodded again

`You do decorating?'

That was it for the interview questions.

The third nod left me with the quandary of employing whom I was told or
having to accept one of the technical old men who had dominated the first
few candidates, or having to lie somehow to the Job Centre staff about
needing better candidates and going away to re-plan.

I gave Derry the job there and then, not prepared for the lecture and
leaflets on Health and Safety and my responsibilities straight afterwards,
a badgering which kept me in their offices until five o'clock on the
dot. Like all jobsworths, they had to go when their time was up, off in an
instant.


So three days later, the sun had been out since I woke at 6 and I was
standing in my long shorts in my kitchen, finishing off washing up my
breakfast cutlery and looking at the clock as it moved towards 9am when
Derry was supposed to arrive.

I had finished my hanging and stretching routine half an hour before so my
body was buffed up and my shaved hairless chest proud. I had already sat
outside in the sun for twenty minutes reading the paper and was warmed up
nicely hence the kitchen door being open.

There was a knock on the frame of the door.

`Hi Mr Jones', said Derry, standing sheepishly half in the door, half out.

`Its James', I replied.

`It's a hot one already' said Derry casting his eyes quickly up and back

I finished up at the sink then looked back over to him and he was starring
at my body.

`Yeah, sorry but you will have to get used to me being like this', I
laughed, `Come the Summer and I am just in my shorts for months on end!'

Derry blushed. He looked at me again for a few seconds.

`Can I take my top off?', he asked, slightly meekly, `I'm like you, I enjoy
it ^Å when its warm like this.'

`Of course you can!', I replied, `You can just come in your pants each day
if you want!'

I looked over to him. His curly hair was sticking up at the sides and he
had on a baggy tank top and a pair of black running shorts which barely
held his big thighs. His right hand went to the bottom of the top, grasped
it nervously and lifted up the cloth.

In just a glimpse of his body I knew that I could look at it all
summer. Derry was struggling to get the top over his head using just one
hand, so exposing a great big rib cage with lots of muscle covering the
frame. A little bush of hair was there in the cleft of his upper arm and
chest. The abs were prominent even under the layer of slight fat and skin
which was more obvious when he finally pulled his shirt over his head and
let his hands drop to his sides.

We looked at each other for a moment before Derry broke the ice.

`You look in really good shape ^Ö are you going to help me out?

I smiled, `I had a car crash two years ago and did some really bad stuff to
my back, and my hips.'

I turned to the side so that he could see some of my scars, with my normal
slight shuffle rather than rotation

`I can't lift heavy things nor twist properly. I will help where I can but
you are going to have to do the heavy stuff. This (I looked down at my abs)
is all about lots of physio and special exercise. Mind you, you look like
you will be able to manage!'

Derry smiled and then quick as a flash he raised his arms up and did a
little muscle pose with his biceps, pretending to kiss each one. All I
could think was how great his chest looked as even when stretched, as his
pecs had a little bit of a flop in them. His torso was long and dead
straight and his hips just seemed to flick out to grab his big
thighs. There were six little saucers of abs above where a wispy tail of
hair went down into to the low slung shorts.

`The deal that I have told the Jobs people, is that you are on a week's
trial and you are going to get £250 a week, if you are OK, for the next
twelve weeks. If you are what I want I'll give you another hundred a week
for a bit of overtime if you can do it plus as a sort of bonus that they
don't need to know about.'

`They won't come out to visit, not here. I know them lot', said Derry, `So
you won't need to follow all the Health and Safety rules in this booklet,
and the stuff that they lecture you on.'

He had picked up the leaflet I had been given and was waiving it round.

`You can work without your top, like I said, whenever you want. I've got
you some suntan lotion though and I've brought a canopy for when its really
hot, and I've things like a hard hat, and a proper first aid kit.'

`I've got one of the bright vests of my own, just in case, and you are
supposed to have a toilet I can use', added Derry

I laughed again at how we were talking about this serious side of giving
someone a job. I pointed to the toilet door outside.

`Look, if you are what I need then you'll get lots of lunch and tea and
coffee all day, and we can have some fun whilst I try to do my first design
and styling job but I'm all for any advice you can give!'

Derry moved forward, offered his hand and smiled ^Ö

`Thanks for the opportunity ^Ö I won't let you down! You've never done
anything like this before?'

`Nope!', I replied, `Come on, lets show you what I am planning and then you
can tell me what's right and what's wrong. We can start outside as the
weather is good. This lot are all the books and catalogues I've been going
through.'

I showed Derry my box of information sat in the corner of the kitchen, and
then made my way towards the kitchen door. As I walked towards the door,
Derry seemed to wait for me and put himself into the space created by my
raised left hand and arm to the door frame (which, to me, was a normal
human action to guide someone) without me actually then putting my arm
around his shoulders.

`You want to turn this place into something special?', was his question,
his words coming at me from barely a couple of feet away so that I could
smell his breath, which was fine. He seemed so friendly that the day was
just getting better and better.

We walked around my more than quarter of an acre of dead weeds, grass and
probably some good plants who were just about surviving from the attack of
chemicals, with me pointing at areas where I said I wanted various things,
like actually some plants and where I wanted the shed that I wanted to be
an outside office, and the possible swimming pool.

`You can afford a pool?' he asked, hands on hips with his very slight belly
sticking out.

`No, not at the moment but I'm on a bonus for a job I'm doing which is
enough to hire a proper digger'

`I'm going to need one, just a small one, for putting in the drainage and
the cables for the shed, the Summer house, this week, because it's a job
that has to be done really before anything else', responded Derry, `There
are about £150 for a day ^Ö two days would be enough.'

`I've one booked for Thursday and Friday ^Ö it's the only time this week
they could let us have it', I said.

`You know a pool is more than just digging a hole?' added Derry.

`Yeah ^Ö but the job is a good one so I can afford the materials'

`Can you show me some stuff, some of your work?', asked Derry.

I took Derry clambering over the rubble back to the patio where I had my
lap-top set up under a big umbrella and flicked onto the portfolio that was
going to pay for Derry, and possibly the pool.

Sitting down, I eased myself across the chair as much as my back would
allow me so that Derry could see the pictures. He put his hand on the back
of the chair to support him, brushing against my right shoulder and then
leant over my left shoulder to put his other hand on the table, saying
nothing but now offering his body smell to me and by turning my head
slightly, the view of his chest in real close-up as I sat between his
outspread arms. I sat and smelt him, with quick glances to his flesh looked
at him, whilst he studied my work.

`Wow!' was the word that eventually came from his mouth, `You are really
really talented.'

Derry stood back up and I eased my chair round. I looked up to him with his
hands on the back of his head showing me his body is all its glory as he
breathed in and out. I tried to keep my eyes on his. His chest and his
stomach went wide and back, not white and not brown skin but just
perfection.

`I've had a bit of a shit time just recently and this could be the thing
that gets me back on track', said the god in front of me, slowly moving his
hands down to cross them over his chest, `Don't usually get style in houses
I've worked on, just what some poof or old slug reckons is class.'

I laughed at his joke.

`You want to start in the garden then?, he asked.

`Yeah, sure. What do you want to do first, mark things out?', I replied.

`I need to make up some pegs. Is that wood over there OK', said Derry,
pointing to what I had left against the garage door, a stack of square
timber.

`That's the stuff and all the tools are in garage, plus some marking
aerosols and the canopy.'

Derry went over the garage and came out after inspecting my investment of a
few hundred pounds in anything electrical and sharp that I found the week
before.

`Good quality stuff you've got. Its all I am going to need but I am going
to need you for an hour or so, once I've done the pegs', said Derry, a
small axe and knife in his hands.

`Just give me a shout', I replied moving myself back in front of the
computer.


I did not look out at Derry for at least half an hour as he worked, trying
not to think about how sore my balls were from what seeing his body had
done to me in the first few minutes of meeting him. His remarks about gay
designers were the first `no' from someone who was so comfortable with his
body and being that close to another man that it had raised my expectations
and my manhood of what could happen.

After about thirty minutes, he came up from behind me and put a hand on my
shoulder.

`Its hot out there. I am going to need you for maybe thirty minutes but I
could do with you sticking some of this on me as I'll get burnt without
it', said Derry, sticking the bottle of factor 25 sun lotion on the table
in front of me.

I stood up as he turned to offer me his back. Carefully I poured a big pool
of the sunscreen into the middle of my right palm and slapped it onto his
shoulders.

Derry pushed his muscles into my touch which was not cursory. I did the job
as practically as I could and when I swiped my final stroke just into the
waistband at the back of his shorts, nothing about his response made me
feel wrong. I had just touched him for a good reason.

`You next', he said, putting a hand on my shoulder and pushing me into
turning away from him, `You need to be careful.'

He did just as I had done and he did not stop for a moment when it came to
my scars, which I was more than pleased with as they were still
prominent. I turned back to face him as he smothered his chest, then his
arms and his legs. It did not seem wrong to watch as his fingers slid into
his flesh, leaving little hand and finger marks for a second or two. It was
fine, for me, when he stood and watched me as I did the same.

We spent more than an hour getting really hot. It was a chance to watch him
as he knocked in the pegs or drew circles on the ground or stood making
shapes with his arms for angles or curves and with my sunglasses on I could
take in everything about him, including his face.

He wasn't handsome not that he was ugly. I was crossing off my list of what
I wanted from a man and the physical aspect of being turned on was
supposedly not my number one factor so listening to him chat and talk and
liking his smile, really liking his smile, was helping me raise my hopes
that I would not need to go into cyberspace to find a man.

At lunch he accepted my offer to not have to go to the nearest shop and to
help me with a mountain of sandwiches with some lemonade and bottled water
that he watched me prepare as we talked some more.

`So my brother dumped me right in it. It's a pretty shit thing to do to
tell anyone who asks when I lost my virginity', he muttered with his hands
pushing him up and into the side of the kitchen sink as I washed some
salad.

`If it helps, it was the same for me', I replied, being just as honest, `I
never had time to think about girls. I was always too much into sport. I
was 17 as well, when ^Å'

`Is that why you got lots of money, for the crash, because of the sport?'
he asked, pushing his chest through his arms like an excited kid once again

`It was one of the reasons. I have had to work really hard to get back to
looking like this, sometime so hard I would cry because it hurt so much. It
still does hurt but I can move pretty well and everything works. It will be
different when I am 40. Then I will have to have some more replacement
stuff, if I haven't had my hip done in maybe four or five years.'

Derry looked stunned.

`Physically you look fantastic. It can't be hard getting girls when you
look like you do', he said, his voice slightly muted as his eyes ran over
me.

I laughed as I chopped away.

`I didn't have anyone when the accident happened so there wasn't a chance
that I could find out if they really loved me, like girls can do, when I
was getting better. It was a lot of time getting smelly sitting in bed, on
my own. That took loads and loads of time and when you don't have a pelvis,
because its shattered to bits, then when girls come to see you they are a
bit put off. Its all working properly now.  Its just my back which is all
nuts and bolts which I need to keep working on and if I move slowly then
no-one knows.'

Derry took a sandwich from the plate I offered him and stuffed it into his
mouth. When it slid down his throat he wanted more answers.

`So how long were you in hospital?', was his first question.

`It was a few months. I bust my leg as well and that didn't heal well and
they had to make sure that my spinal chord was OK. Thank God it was.'

`What sports can you do?', he asked, `What about getting into a fight?'

`I don't go looking for fights and if I do find someone who wants to hit me
then they need to know I was a boxer when I was a kid, with quick hands'.

I demonstrated some flashy punching with a sandwich in my hand, sending
tomato pips onto the kitchen window. We both smiled at my clumsiness.

`Everything is really strong; it's just that I have to make sure that I
don't make things worse from now on. I really want to play golf because all
my friends do and I was a really good skier. I spent half a year in Austria
when I was 17 skiing every day.'

`I wish I could ski', muttered Derry, ham poking out of his mouth as he
talked whilst he was eating.

`What about you?', I asked, `Loads of my friends don't keep fit.'

`I just look like this from working really hard, digging!', he spluttered,
`I just eat like a pig to keep me refuelled. I do play a bit of
football. That gives the little bit of extra'

With that he grasped his stomach, just above his shorts and proudly showed
me a round of flesh. It looked really soft and I had to ease myself into
the kitchen unit to hide any problems in my pants.

We had stopped for lunch at midday. After sitting and chatting a bit more,
Derry announced he was going to dig up a couple of apples trees which had
been just stuck in the old lawn. He took out a big saw to cut off the
branches before he said he wanted me to help him put up the canopy so that
he could dig in shade in half an hour or so. I went back to work in the
shade.

A few minutes later and he was back crouching down next to me and dripping
with sweat and covered in green dust from the trees, especially on his
forearms and over his hands, and with sap splattered everywhere

`Can you just slop me up quickly?' he asked giving me the bottle of sun tan
lotion, `I will have to wash myself otherwise and I have got the mood to
get on with it, but I am frying out there.'

`Where do you want?', I asked.

`Just my back, my shoulders and can you do my chest?'

My heart stopped I think then I thought I jolted forward when it began
beating again. I was trying to stay calm and not succeeding

I started on his back, wiping away the sweat with a towel I had next to me
before covering him in cream and liberally smoothing it in to his skin.

He turned round and firstly I wiped his shoulders. He lifted up his arms
and let me at his underarms areas and then to wipe off his chest and his
belly. I looked at him wanting to say something. He just sort of nodded and
with that I filled my hand with cream and started on his shoulders and
upper arms. I moved across to his chest. I can't remember much only that he
did push himself gently into my touch on his pecs and as my hand arrived on
his belly, he blew that out so that I was smoothing across a section of a
sphere. He laughed. I laughed. My hand slipped up and over each of his abs
ridges. When I reached his waist I just made a final swipe with my hand
across his waistband once again, like on his back.

`There you go! Go get that tree!', I laughed again to try and relieve any
tension. He did not see me wipe my oiled hand across my chest as he walked
away as some sort of souvenir.

Half an hour later and he was back in the shade, unpacking the box of poles
for the canopy sitting next to me and my laptop. He went to talk to me only
to notice that I was busy so with a jump he was out in the sun again
sticking parts into sockets on the uneven rubble that was my back garden.

With two corners tightened and the frame started, the third took some
manoeuvring because of the really up and down ground conditions. I sensed
he needed my help so I got up and clambered down to him.

`Thanks', he said, `This need to be tensioned so can your grab these two
bits and hold them tight into the socket. It will mean reaching up for a
bit. Are you OK with that?'

I nodded and grabbed the two side bars pushing them hard into the upright
and its socket, facing into the centre of what would be the covered area.

Derry went behind me and reached up over my back. I jumped slightly at the
touch of his skin on mine. Even though he was slightly taller than me, he
could not tighten the bolt and a hand rested on my shoulders after a few
minutes of trying.

`I need to come round the front. Just keep them tight!', said Derry.

He slid round me, really close, giving me another waft of his body odour,
now including lots of his sweat. I liked it much too much and when he was
pushing himself up in front of me, I had to hold my hips away from any
possible contact as I was fully erect. I could not prevent our chests from
firstly touching and then our bodies rubbing together whilst he flung the
ratchet round and round to do up the bolts. I just thought of the worst
thing that came into my view, to try and clam my mind. I stared at my
dustbin.

`That's that one done', said Derry to me. I was still holding the cross
members together, even thought they were now well and truly fixed, and did
not notice the hand on my ribs, rested there for a few seconds, `Lets do
the other one quick so that you can give your back a rest.'

Derry had scurried across the turned up sods of old grass and was fitting
together the last post to the top frame with his back to me leaving me a
second to re-arrange myself. I faced out this time and went back to the
position with my hips well back, actually hurting my back or maybe just
straining it. He came round to my front. I smiled and then kept my grin so
that he would not know how much I was enjoying his body on mine again, and
taking in his scent with every breath whilst trying to open the dustbin bag
in my mind. His chest and mine swept against each other probably twenty
times. I think I counted every one.

When I sat back down, I went to wipe away the sweat he had left on my
chest. I felt like one of my old girlfriends who had not washed her breast
when some no-hope of a pop star had been in a club we went to and she had
asked him for an autograph. I just starred at the dirt and the sheen and
pulled my chair into the desk.

At five twenty Derry left, completely drained and wet through from the
sweat and effort of pulling up the two apples trees, even under the shade
of the canopy that had made my dreams that were released when I got into a
hot bath.

I looked at the streams of my spunk that were spread throughout the water,
released with just a few touches of my cock. I had on the edge of the bath
the last of the eight bottles of mineral water I had bought two days
before. Derry had swilled down six of them over the afternoon, the last one
half poured over his body to cool him off before he used the towel that was
sitting on the chair next to the bath to wash himself down and dry off. My
first souvenir of him was full of his scent.

What had been just daydreams to make my private stimulation was now there
in a man that I had coming to see me virtually every day for the next three
months. Or was it just a dream, a fantasy? Would I make a mistake? I
thought I would not sleep that night but I was so wrong.


Day 2

I woke late and was in some sloppy shorts munching on toast when Derry came
striding round the corner, shirtless and wearing the same black shorts as
the day before although they looked washed. He was whistling loudly and in
tune and was smiling as wide and his mouth would allow.

`Hi Boss', he chirped as he knocked on the door before walking straight in
to the kitchen and planting himself next to me as I stood against the
kitchen sink, in his favourite pose of hands on the edge of the unit and
his chest pushed through the uprights of his arms.

`You look a bit sleepy!', he said with a inquisitive smile.

`I worked late', I replied, `Then I had to go late night shopping for more
water and food for you! You ate me out of house and home.'

`Just keep me fed and watered and I go on and on, like a good car', said
Derry, `I was talking with my cousin and he has had a chat with your
brother when he was doing their garden. He says you were in a really bad
way and that how you've done since is a bit of a miracle.'

I saw his gaze on my body, in its softest state from me just having woken
up.

`It was pretty bad. I'll show you some photos of the crash sometime but
they make me upset sometimes so I need to be in the right mood. You lie
there with tubes and plasters and you are in bits and you can never see
things being back to where they were.'

Derry put his hand on my shoulder.

`You should forget about it because you are built, really built', he said.

`Can I have some toast?', he asked.

I was surprised at the sudden switch from support to his question. I
started to take some toast and butter it, at the same time looking at him.

`You've started to get a good tan from yesterday', I said, glancing again
and again at his belly all brown and slightly ridged.

`I love just being in my shorts. You do have to take `precautions' when you
are out in the sun but like you, I just leave everything else in the
drawers when its warm. Its sort of changed recently. People were staring at
me when I walked up here from the bus stop', he said.

`If you have got it, flaunt it!', I replied, laughing, `I always was
running around as a kid and when I was all weak and damaged, I just wanted
to get back to where I was as a kid. I never cared a damm about what people
thought.'

`Where do you live?', I asked, `You had to get the bus to come here?'

`I live in town. Can't afford a car so the bus, or my bike, is all I
have. Its too far to cycle but the buses don't run when you want
then. That's why I am really early', replied Derry.

I looked at the clock and realised that it was barely 7.30. The sun was
warming the kitchen but it was all too obvious in the tight little nipples
that sat either side of his chest that he had cooled down from his walk to
my house. I just didn't want him to cover up and he seemed to recognise my
thoughts as he went into his hands on head pose as he talked me through
what he was going to do today. This mutual display was making my balls go
blue after just a few minutes in his company.

`I want to clear up everything that I can get out easily'

I flicked my eyes to the ribs sticking through his skin, to the little
bushes of underarm hair, to the belly which went in and out.

`Then I will have a go in the front garden putting all those slabs in the
skip. You are going to need another one by the end of the week when I've
started using the digger. That is coming on Thursday, isn't it?

I nodded rather than talked as my mouth was stuffed full of toast. Derry
mimicked me by filling his face. We chomped for a few minutes until he
decided to work and I went and got changed.

Derry had not worked himself too hard when I came back down from my bedroom
and was waiting for me with the sunscreen in his hands.

`You can slop me up?'. He asked with the sun silhouetting his form behind
him.

`Sure', I replied taking the bottle and making him turn around.

Derry shrugged his shoulders as I rubbed the cream into his shoulders. As I
moved down his back he lifted his arms so that I could slip my touch over
his sides. I went to the bottom of his back. He reached round and flipped
over the band on his shorts, exposing a strip of white flesh and the top of
his crack between his buttocks. I put some more cream on my hand and
carefully wiped across, allowing my fingers to slide inside the fabric on
either side.

`Can you do my legs', asked Derry, twisting his head round to catch my
gaze, `I'm always crap at doing them and I always get burnt there.'

I smiled back at him and refilled my hand, crouching down as quickly as my
back would allow.

There before me were his thick hamstrings, covered in fluffy but thin
hairs. I simply gulped to myself and placed my hand about two inches from
the bottom of his shorts, my fingers tingling with the touch. In my sport
as a kid I had been submerged in rugby scrums but this was different, very
different as I was now being able to feel a man with his permission.

My hand swept upwards and down. I took in every striation of his
muscles. Running my fingers to the back of his knee I pushed gently inside
the tendons then I used my thumb as a guide line down the middle of his
calf. With another movement I went up the inside of his leg, stopping a few
inches short of his buttocks. I refilled my palm gliding along the outside
of the girders attached to his body. The other leg was more sensory
stimulation, with a couple more touches I hoped he didn't notice.

`Thanks', he said as I stood up. He took the bottle from me and quickly
covered his shoulders to my relief as I felt myself blushing.

`You've gone all red', said Derry watching me trying to cope with a couple
of beads of sweat running down my forehead.

`Its just the bending down' I muttered as the quickest excuse I could come
up with, using the back of my hand to wipe my face, `I haven't done my
exercises this morning so when I get stiff, I find things a bit stressful.'

`What do you do, to warm up? Your exercises? Can I watch?, Derry asked,
almost pleading with me.

`You really want to see my exercises?', I asked for confirmation.

`Yeah ^Ö I want to get some tips', laughed Derry, `I'm a bit fat.'

`That's just the shape you are, your genetics', I replied.

`It would be good. Go on. Over lunch?', pleaded Derry.

`Ok', I said, nodding my head down.

`You don't do them naked or anything?', said Derry, his eyebrows half way
up his forehead..

`I've been naked in physio rooms for most of the past two years. No. I will
keep my shorts on for you!'

Derry mock punched me on the shoulder.

`I'll get going then', he said s he walked down to the garden.



There were water breaks every hour and I `booked' lunch for 11.30 as Derry
had started early. I gave him a `menu' of chicken or ham and he chose
chicken which was good as I had left the ham at the counter the night
before.

`You going to show me then?, said Derry, wiping himself down with the towel
I had given him for this day's work.

`It will take about twenty minutes, if you want to watch the lot. You can
bring in your sandwiches, if you want. I won't eat for about half an hour
afterwards.'

Derry picked up his plate and came with me as I went upstairs to the big
back bedroom in the extension. He glanced into my bedroom through the open
door to the front before following me into my torture room, as I liked to
describe it.

As Derry ran his hands over the exercise bike I went to by the window and
facing away from him I took off my shorts and then slipped down my pants,
picking up the neoprene like shorts I sometimes wore. I was usually
naked. If I kept on my pants, my `package' was likely to be exposed.

`That's another big scar', said Derry from the other side of the room. I
held the shorts across my cock to turn slightly towards him so that the
extent of the red line could be seen.

`Its where they patched me up the first and the third time', I replied,
pulling on the shorts quickly and happy that my shaft was fairly flaccid so
that it slopped into the shorts.

Derry sat down on the bench in front of my circus built contraption which
had been my best ever purchase from a manufacturer in the US. He watched me
carefully as I strapped on the waist harness, its cross groin links of
fabric pushing out a bulge of rubber like cloth over my cock.

I clipped on the support cables, moved back into position and then locked
down the raise lever. Derry gasped as I was pulled six inches into the air.

`This is great for my spine', I grunted as I swung myself through 180 deg
so that I was upside down, `I use these supports for hand stand press-ups.'

With that I supported myself on the two bars that could be clipped in place
at the foot of the frame and proceed to do thirty hand stand push-ups, my
body a rock of muscle to support me just like a gymnast. I then flicked my
legs into the `U' shaped ankle grabs so that I could demonstrate how worked
my legs against resistance for another set of repetitions.

`You should be in circus', said Derry, leaning forward with a long glance
at my really taught abs and hips

I then picked up a pair of dumbbells from a platform to the right and
showed how I worked some smaller muscle groups.

The sun was bathing my body from the side window so I burst into sweat as I
flicked myself back upright and reached up to flick out the pull up
bar. Once that was locked I then showed off with 50 reps using various
grips. The last few reps were a struggle. Derry jumped up off his seat. He
had watched my body intently throughout, all my sinews showing through my
skin

`Don't worry. I'm OK. Just showing off!', I panted as I swung myself up
again to demonstrate my finishing abs and back stretches. I could see Derry
as he watched my abs working as hard as I could make them. His eyes were
wide, like his mouth.

My abs were proud and hurt. I had worked them much too hard, without the
control that I prided myself off from Day 1 of a lecture from my favourite
physio.

`Jesus James!', said Derry and with legs bent, I managed to get myself back
on my feet and flicked the release from the wires so that I landed on my
feet with a bang, stumbling forward into Derry. I undid the clasp on the
waist harness letting that drop to the floor.

`Looks like you forgot to do up your shorts', cried Derry.

The waistband was half way down my hips, so that my pubes were exposed
together with the end of another of my scars. They weren't terribly bushy
because I kept them under control with clippers but they were very visible.

`Oh, sorry!' I muttered, quickly pulling them up and trying to tie the lace
inside them.

Derry's hand held my arms as I gathered myself together.

`I don't want you to help me in one way, but when I see how hard you have
worked, I want to say come and "do whatever"', whispered Derry, still with
his grip firmly on me, `You going to show me how bad it was?'

I nodded and took Derry over to the stack shelves in one corner, pulling
out my photo album from the bottom of a number of books and magazines. I
gave them to him and took a huge swig of water from a bottle I had brought
with me.

Derry opened up the book and went to the first page. He gasped and leant
himself back onto the seat of my bike. When he turned to the next page and
saw the worst pictures of my crash, the dashboard of my car with my blood
everywhere, his hand went to his mouth. It took him a minute or so to cope
with me in my hospital bed about two weeks after the crash. I could see the
tears in his eye.

It was a picture I hated but had kept because my mum had brought my dog
into the hospital room through a side door and she was sitting on my bed
under my arm as I weakly smiled at the first happy thoughts after the
crash.

He laughed sadly when he came to me standing for the first time, my vest
hanging off me.

`I was told you nearly died!' blubbed Derry, `And this just looks so bad I
keep on thinking I am here with a ghost!'

`You don't need to cry', I replied offering my hand to his arm.

`Your brother told my cousin that he thought you were gone for, for days
and days. He must have done a good job on my cousin, who is normally a
really hard bastard, because he kept on telling me that going to work for
you would be inspirational. I thought I was coming to work for a cripple
before the interview. Then you look normal. Then when I came in yesterday
you do look like a normal human being even more. Then I find out what's
difficult for you, I see your scars!'

I was feeling much stronger now and tried to reassure him.

`I don't mind the scars. I can cope with going through security in Airports
and getting pulled up every time. All of me works and I have a life which
shouldn't be any different to say you. I don't hide away what I look like
because bar being a bit canted backwards, I can do anything I want, just
about. Come on. Let's go. I am paying you to work so you'd better get on
with it!'

I let Derry go first down the stairs and back out into the garden. It was
clouding over and really humid and within minutes he was completely wet
through with more sweat as I tapped away on my computer writing up a brief
for some more work. Even exercise with my fingers made me start to glow. I
had not intended to take the job but I wanted Derry for more than 12 weeks
so the money would give me him until at least September.

The first clap of thunder made me jump. I had been so intent on getting the
work done for those extra weeks that how angry the clouds were was a
complete surprise. Grabbing my laptop I rushed it into the kitchen as the
first downpoor started.

`Come on ^Ö come out here!', screamed Derry from under the canopy.

I ran through the rain to where he stood, one hand holding onto a rope
around the canopy roof struts. Without flinching I let him just sidle over
to me and rest his raised arm on my shoulder so that his damp armpit was
flush against my shoulder.

`This is going to be a cracker', he laughed.

`Do you like storms?', I asked, `Only isn't it a bit dangerous to stand
under metal like this?'

`This isn't going to get dangerous, not just yet', he replied, `That's due
early on this evening. You up for getting wet?'

`Why?', I asked.

`I am going to need you to help me just mark out the lines we made by
making a little trench. It will fill with water overnight and just means
all that mucking around we did yesterday won't go to waste.'

Derry reached away from me and stood on the blade of a spade, hard enough
that the handle sprung up into his grasp.

`You get on with using this one!'

With that he was off running across to my garage and I was left with the
spade. I looked up into the sky and huffed a deep breath, then jumped out
and started hacking at the nearest line to me, its marking power from the
aerosol used to mark it already forming a weak soup in the dirt.

Moments later and Derry was by my side as we chopped into the rapidly
watery earth. It rained hard enough for a few seconds so that we had to
gulp for breath. In twenty minutes we had finished the job and were back
standing soaking my kitchen floor.

`Oh shit!', stated Derry, `Its 5.20 and my bus goes in three minutes.'

`I can give you a lift home!', I answered.

`No thanks. You need to get dry and take care of your back. I can make it
if you give me a lift down the road', replied Derry, drying himself with a
towel.

`Come on then', I said, `I'll just grab you a top and something to put on
the car seats.'

I rushed into my wreck of a lounge and pulled up a couple of the dust
sheets from the floor. One the way to the kitchen door I rummaged in my
fresh laundry to grab a jumper.  To get into the car we both had to get wet
again so that as I reversed out into the road, we were almost steaming,

`Great car this', said Derry as he wiped down the windows on his side of
the car with the freshly washed jumper, `I'd love to have a Mini.'

I was too intent on getting down the road, trying to make the bus but as I
turned onto the main road, I pointed out that we had missed it.

`Look, there it goes. When does it stop next because if it isn't very soon
I'm taking you home.'

`It stops in the next village, Wellingford!', replied Derry.

`I'm taking you home!', I stated and within minutes I had overtaken the bus
and was well on the way. The rain went away and the temperature rose
quickly so that we had to have the windows open once again. We looked at
each other and laughed at how wet we still were.

`Do you want me to come tomorrow if its still wet?', asked Derry.

`Of course', I replied, my cock instantly pining at the possibility of not
seeing him, `If the weather is bad any day then you can start in the
house. Will it matter about the digger on Thursday is the weather is shit
then?'.

`Nope. I can do that stuff in any weather and the more it rains the
better. Look, we are just coming into the bypass. If you go round at the
next roundabout and stop and let me out, then I will run down the path over
there. It will save you time and me because with the traffic like it is,
I'll get home in about five minutes, rather than the ten or more if you go
any further', said Derry, pointing to a path between to big hedges as we
sped on towards the traffic.

Following his gaze nearly made me crash into the car in front and I upset a
couple of other drivers by not signalling that I wanted to go all the way
round the roundabout. Pulling in, Derry was out of the car in an instant.

`Bye boss. See you tomorrow early on', he shouted. I just sat watching him
run across the road, his bottom bobbing up and down with his running style
which was lots of knees to cope with his heavy work boots. I smiled to
myself then pulled out and drove home.



Wednesday and I was up before 7, making up two lunches, one for midday and
the other for 3 in the afternoon.  It was cloudy, a lot cooler and less
humid but I had washed and pressed my long shorts from the day before and
still felt comfortable being shirtless. I just wanted to be myself for my
new friend. If I offered him the chance to keep looking at my body then I
kept thinking to myself that the friendly physicality would continue and
hopefully go further. If it didn't then I would still get most of what I
wanted.

The kitchen door was shut so the knock was indistinct and with the radio
on, I didn't hear Derry as he came in. He had on a white vest and long
tracksuit trousers.

`You're not too stiff from yesterday?', he asked, eying me up and down.

I smiled at his friendliness and nodded, my mouth full of cereal.

`You want some?', I asked between mouthfuls.

`Yeah. What have you got?', replied Derry, `You want me to start indoors?
Its still raining a bit and really until the I get the digger I won't be
working as efficiently as I can out there.'

He stuck five Weetabix in one of my biggest bowls, topped it up with milk
and loads of sugar and followed me into what I wanted to be my lounge.

I went to the wall that divided up the lounge and the front room which was
sold as a dining room.

`I want to knock this through. My architect says that there is already a
good enough beam across the ceiling and that this wall is just some block
work. He says the support is in the Dining room. That's got a couple of
pillars about two thirds of the way down it which are under the front where
the bathroom is.'

`We should probably put one in anyway but I can sort that out', replied
Derry, `Hang on, I just need to get comfortable.'

He put his bowl down on the floor and with both hands crossed to the waist
of his vest, he whipped it off over his head and threw it onto the floor.

`Got to get my nips out if you are going to flash your bod at me!', he
laughed, flexing his pecs so that they fluttered, `Got to have some real
man on this job.'

I just stared for a second.

`Do you want to start on that or do we need to sort out the walls?', I
asked, glancing down at his body which was as soft and as very slightly
plump as it had been any time I had seen it.

He marched over with his bowl under his mouth, shovelling in his breakfast,
stopping right next to me so that our elbows touched.

`I wouldn't want to do that without the support to go in', gobbled Derry as
he smoothed a free hand over the wall that was to come down, `You said
"we". You want to help me because all that a far wall needs is plastering
and I saw you've bought loads of the stuff we need in the garage?

`We would need to get the loose plaster off this side', he went on, `and
the ceiling is a bit dodgy but I might try a bit of knocking this through
so that any vibrations don't upset the other work we can do today.'

`What do you want me to do then if we do some plastering?', I asked.

`You are going to get dirty and sweaty so you need to go and get some old
shorts on whilst I get the stuff in from the garage', replied Derry.

By the time I had gone upstairs and changed, there were two buckets in the
middle of the lounge surrounded by bags of plaster and Derry was playing
with the mixer bit on my most powerful drill, an implement that had cost me
nearly £200 and was my pride and joy.

Derry threw me a bolster. He picked up my other prize buy, the biggest
sledge hammer I could find.

`I'll take a few knocks at this', he laughed, `You've got the house
insured?'

I couldn't answer in time before the metal smashed into the brick. In
seconds the floor was covered in fifty bricks and Derry was shrouded in
dust.

`You just get that stuff off your wall!' he said before throwing the hammer
at the wall again.

By the time he had left an almost circular hole between the lounge and
dining room, and barrowed out all the bricks, and tidied up, I had just
about removed a big patch of loose plaster from where the kitchen butted
into the lounge.

`I'm going to show you how to plaster, once we have got you knowing how to
mix it!', said Derry.

He took me over to the buckets and firstly made me measure out the plaster
powder and then the water.

`Watch how this baby works!', he exclaimed as the drill started spinning
slowly in the powder and water. In minutes I was the proud possessor of a
bucket of perfect plaster.

Derry filled up his board and then went through all the techniques for the
next ten minutes before offering me the board and the trowel.

`Its your turn!'

I filled the board and went to the wall, ready to try to match the
perfectly smooth start Derry had made. My efforts were a disaster.

`Come on, let me give you a hand', said Derry.

He came up right behind me so that by turning my head I could see him smile
as he grabbed my right wrist and then sliding himself into me, his chest
sinking into my back. His left hand slipped under my arm and then grasped
me across the chest, just on my ribs

`I know you are a bit stiff', he laughed, `Maybe in the pants department as
well.'

`You should fancy yourself a bit more!' was my response. I was stiffening
rapidly.

`I just need to get you moving with the wall', continued Derry, making me
slap a lump of plaster onto the wall with all the assurity he showed.

He made me sway across the wall leaving a perfectly smooth stripe of
plaster then showed me how to fill the gap between his own work and that he
was helping me with. I could feel his heartbeat throughout and when it was
all over, I tried to remember whether his groin was pressing into me. I
couldn't. I had just had him holding me tight to him and I could remember
nothing sensual

I gave up as the plaster went off too much and under instruction, we
started what Derry described as a couple of hours of torture. It was very
hard work, even just keeping the plaster coming by having to hold the drill
upright in the buckets I made just about quickly enough to satisfy the
plastering machine that was Derry. By the time we were past the fireplace,
we were both drenched in sweat and Derry was breathing heavily.

`This is what a plasterer really looks like', he laughed, pushing his
trousers down half way over his buttocks. He was not wearing any
underwear. His arse was pure white skin with a grey shadow of a crack
running into his trousers.

`Do they have ones as big as this!', I joked, lifting up the drill as if it
was attached to my as my cock as a huge extension, letting a few dollops of
plaster drip into the bucket.

`You've got to have a big one to be a plasterer!', replied Derry.

He turned to me and through the fabric of his tracksuit bottoms he seemed
to grasp a great roll of his shaft. I just stood with my mouth open until a
lump of plaster hit me in the face.

`Stop staring at me you perv!', cried Derry, `What have you got us for
lunch?'

Back in the kitchen, Derry did not seem any different if he had been taken
aback by my looking at his last joke in any sort of strange way. When I
took out the plate of sandwiches and perched myself against the kitchen
table, he came and did exactly the same, so close that our arms touched.

`If you can take us down the builders' yard, I am sure we can get a lintel
for you and then I can finish that off in there ^Ö at least getting the
support in. It's the best thing!'

`I can't get something like that in the Mini!', I replied.

`We can get it delivered. Its just gone twelve now and if we get it done
before one, then we can get it delivered on the afternoon lorry. It will be
a one off items so they will chuck it on top and if I prompt the delivery
driver, we'll definitely get it quick', said Derry.

`Lets go then', I replied and we rushed off to my Mini.

Halfway to the car, I stopped on the drive, `Don't we need tops?'

`Builders walk into there like this every day of the week and if you
haven't looked at yourself recently, you look like you've been Tangoed ^Ö
you are orange from head to toe from all the dust', replied Derry, `You
look like a builder!'

I shrugged my shoulders and got in the car. Derry put his window down all
the way and with elbow sticking out he pushed his body into the cleft of
the seat and the door, moulding himself into the niche. As we sailed
through towards the trading estate, I turned on the radio and the sun poked
its way through the clouds. I felt a little punch on my arm and turned to
Derry to smile back at his touch. I was having the time of my life.


I pulled up next to the front door of the builder's merchants and took out
the twenty pound note that was all that I had left in my wallet. Derry
thought it would be enough and I had to stare as he sauntered in through
the doors, his hips going up and down in his familiar way. He was back in a
couple of minutes, running.

`What's gone wrong ^Ö have you robbed the place?', I laughed.

`Naw', replied Derry,' Its seventy quid ^Ö sorry but I never priced
stuff. It's the latest technology, the one I reckon we need but its not
cheap.'

`I can't come in like this!', I replied.

`Don't be a pratt', said Derry, coming round to my door, `You look like the
most built person I know and you aren't going to get looked at by anyone
bar Jeannie on the counter.'

`Who is she?', I stuttered.

`She's a middle aged big old bunter who would give you the ride of your
life! Come on!', laughed Derry.

I dragged myself in through the doors shoulders hunched over and up to the
counter where silently I gave over my credit card. Hiding my face as much
as I could, I signed and walked straight out back to the car, making it
obvious to anyone that I wasn't happy. Derry took his time and when he
finally got back into the car, he went mad like a friend should.

`What gives with you? You curl yourself up in a ball and you skulk in there
looking at your feet. You are a good looking guy and covered in shit like
you are now, you look just like a builder', he shouted, `No-one was looking
at you in any sort of funny way.'

`I've never been here before. I still get a bit sort of frightened
sometimes. Come on, I want to get out of here', I replied, turning on the
engine and slamming the car into reverse, nearly going straight back into a
van that was just coming into the yard. I burst into tears.

`What's the matter?', shouted Derry.

`Nothing!' I replied before I drove like a madman back to my house.

Derry prodded me a couple of times on that journey. He said nothing though
as my tears flowed so much that they stained my body and when we arrived
back at my house, he left me when I strode round to the back walking in
front of him.

I went into the kitchen and got out my laptop on the kitchen table

`You carry on with what you can without me', I said as I made my way past
him and out onto the patio to my favourite chair. I had to go back for a
cushion to sit on and once I was installed with the computer on, I heard
the sound of Derry finishing off the wall as I starred at the screen and
tried to see icons through my continuing tears.

Eventually I managed to open a couple of files and peered at them for what
seemed like hours. My trance like state was broken by the sound of a lorry
coming to a stop outside the house and Derry came over to me on the way out
to collect the lintel, putting his hand on my shoulder in some form of
reassurance.

I heard him come back in, knocking the fence with the girder. I heard him
drop it on the concrete behind me. Then there was nothing. I went back to
peering at my computer.

`Come here!', whispered Derry.

He was standing next to me and when I turned to look at him, he crouched
down and then went to his knees in front of me opening up his arms and
asking me to go into his embrace.

`I went upstairs to check. I saw it on one of your photos.  It was one of
their lorries that crushed you', he whispered and I shuffled myself off my
seat so that he could pull my head next to his. My tears streamed down my
face and onto his back as he pulled our chests close.

I could not lean into him as much as his grasp tried to pull me to him
because of still being almost sat down so he eased himself back and put
both his hands behind my neck.

`I can't imagine what it was like', he whispered

`I was trapped for six hours', I blubbed, `They just couldn't get me out.'

He took his right hand away from my neck and wiped it across my cheek then
under my chin.

`I've only known you for a couple of days but you can cry anytime and I
won't think you are weird', he gently laughed, `And I'm a 20 year old who
hasn't got a lot upstairs and fuck all life experiences. I wasn't ever good
at anything.'

`The way you are going at the lounge I`ve started thinking that its only
going to take you a week to finish the house', I answered. I wasn't ready
for what happened next

Derry put his hands under my arms, into my sweaty armpits, and lifted me to
my feet then into his embrace. He pulled me tight to his body so that his
big deep breaths pushed his ribs into me through the slabs of his muscles
and that layer of slightly flabby skin that made the experience even more
of my dreams. My cock was stirring against his thigh then when he held me
on the bottom of my back, I could sense it moving against his bulge. I had
to break his grip.

I did so smoothly so that there was a space between us and pulled my grip
down so that we held each other at the elbows. He leant his forehead
towards mine and I responded.

`Don't think I've been in this situation before, thinking of a boss as a
friend, someone I care about', he said through his own little tears.

`I am really embarrassed', I replied.

`You shouldn't be. You are a bit of a gem in my books', laughed Derry, a
hand moving onto my chest, `Now come on and get yourself inside to help
me.'

He pulled me by the arm into the lounge and left me there, to finish
filling the wheelbarrow with bricks. As I worked away I hear the creaking
of the double doors to the garden.

It was pouring with rain again and under one arm Derry had my laptop
wrapped in a plastic sheet. He had the lintel in his other hand and was
dragging himself through the bush that had grown up in front of the door.

`Shit', I cried, `you alright?'

I grabbed the lintel from him and pulled that onto the floor.

`I thought you would be more worried about this', laughed Derry, offering
me my laptop.

`Shit again', I replied, `How wet did it get?'

`Not a drop boss. I wrapped it up when I went outside as I thought it
looked like rain. Not as bad as this though!' said Derry, turning his gaze
to stare at the vertical shower.

I looked at him, his profile and then at the little streams of blood
running down from his ribs.

`You've scratched yourself', I said.

Derry turned back and looked down at his side. He just wiped his hand
across to redden his belly.

`Not time for being a wuss', he stated, `We've got work to do.'

I was instructed to keep on the clearing up as Derry chipped his way into
the wall on both sides to make the holes needed for the support.

`I know that this isn't supposed to be a supporting wall but I've left
enough bricks on this side so that I can run up a bit of a pillar', said
Derry, `That side we can just stick the lintel in without anything
extra. Are you OK for a bit of lifting?'

I nodded so Derry picked up one end of the bar and I grabbed the other. He
had arranged two platforms of scaffold planks on boxes for us to stand on
so that he could ease one end into its slot with not too much effort whilst
I kept it horizontal by using the other end.

It was still a stretch with my hands held arm straight above my head and
once Derry had slotted in his end, he walked carefully along the planks and
looked me up and down.

`You ticklish?', he asked, his hand reaching up to my belly.

`No', I muttered.

His hands went to the waistband of my shorts and his finger caressed there
way inside the waistband. I winced.

`What about a bit of nipple torture?', asked Derry.

He reached both hands up to my chest and with forefinger and thumb he
tweaked the ends of my nipples buds so that I squirmed.

`Nope, don't think I'll really make you jump', said Derry in a very matter
of fact way as he seemed to switch off his attempt at a joke

I dropped my hands down to my sides then up to inspect any damage he had
done. Derry was already nearly able to slide the lintel into place.

`Come on. Give me a hand and if you try anything with me, its not my house
so I'll just drop it', he said.

The next couple of hours were spent with me making cement and cutting
wedges, then more mixing plaster. When Derry finally left, one wall was
completely finished and the supporting beam stuck firmly into its slots. I
went to bed worrying about what Derry actually thought of me, despite all
the words and that embrace. I had my answer the following morning.


I was at the kitchen sink when Derry arrived with the best morning I could
remember. It was already really hot and him just being in his shorts was
completely natural.

He knocked on the door frame and walked over to me. A hand went round my
neck and I was pulled into his grasp with his other hand across my stomach.

`You OK physically', he asked, rubbing my abs, `No problems with how hard
you worked yesterday?'

`Just a bit stiff', I replied, putting my hand up to rub the back of
Derry's head.

`I see the digger has arrived', said Derry as he broke away to grab the
cereal, `I am going to fry today.'

`It was too early. They just dumped it', I replied, rubbing my eyes, `Can
you show us how it works sometime?'

`Let me get on with it for a bit. The ground is still pretty damp from
yesterday', mouthed Derry as he took his bowl of cereal out into the
garden.

I heard nothing from him for at least twenty minutes until there was a
final bang before lots of chugging as the digger burst into life. Taking my
cup of coffee I went out to see it in action.

Derry clambered up the steps to meet me.

`The damm thing is knackered. I reckon it will last but if you can ring
them and say to bring a new one for tomorrow, I don't know if I can get it
started again', said Derry holding up his dirt and grease covered hands.

`It was that bad?', I asked.

`I have always been good with my hands, getting anything to work. This
thing has been run too hot, probably without any oil. It needs a new clutch
I think as well. Its in real trouble but it will do. Talking of being good
with hands, I need you to smother me with sunscreen.'

I looked around for the bottle and found it under another wrapped up group
of tools that Derry had obviously put together when rescuing my laptop from
the rain the day before.

`Just slap it on!', he laughed, closing his eyes so that I had to start
with his head.

I smeared his forehead and then down either temple. Going carefully around
his eyes he made shapes with his eyebrows and when I worked across his
cheeks and under his nose, he licked my hand. I nearly fainted.

His neck I was firm with, making sure that I filled the indentations of his
shoulders. I worked the front of his arms thoroughly and as I finished at
his wrists, he lifted his hand up to make a `V' with his body.

For a moment I stumbled, missing my hand with my next squirt of the
bottle. We both laughed which helped me get ready to put my hand on him
again. Life was just getting better and better.

`Just be careful with my baubles ^Ö my nips ^Ö they are a bit sensitive',
he said, peering down at his soft cones.

I started at the cleft of his underarm and went across his right pec. To
keep the fun going I squeezed his bud between my thumb and the flat of my
hand.

`Don't do that!', he cried.

I moved across to his left and this time I squeezed his chest.

`You bastard!', he laughed, lowering his hands a little.

There was still enough room for me to cover the side of his ribs. When it
came to his stomach, he made it at fat as he could by blowing out, as he
always seemed to do

`Like me when I am pregnant?', he said as a variation on his joke

`You are an overweight lump of lard', I answered, making sure that I was
gentle and thorough. He relaxed his breathing so that my hand slipped to by
his waistband.

`Just don't make any sudden movements downwards. What's in my pants
bites!', was the next quip, said with his biggest grin.

Making him turn round, Derry did nothing to help me by not standing still
and when working the back of his legs, he pretended to be really
ticklish. I made him turn round so that I could complete the job.

`Oh, you sexy thing!', he said in a wimpy accent, wriggling himself some
more, `Just go a bit higher.'

I was about an inch from the cut of his shorts. I had to continue the joke
so I just slipped by hand upwards, into the loop that surrounded his
leg. The back of my hand bumped into something soft, held in the inner
lining of the shorts.

`You better watch it boss!', muttered Derry through a false grin . He did
not move though so I smiled back.

`You better get on with it!', were my parting words, accompanied by a hard
slap to his thigh.

Within minutes Derry had the machine working overtime. I sat with my sketch
pad all morning, only stopping to go and get him water every half hour, as
he stripped the garden clear of numerous other bushes and smoothed out the
bumps

It was one o'clock when he did stop for lunch and he came over to where I
was sat on a lounger, underneath the tree next to the lounge windows. He
made me pull up my left leg so that he could perch himself on the side of
the seat, leaning back into my knee for support.

`I might be using a machine', he muttered between mouthfuls of pasta, `But
this is damm hard work.'

He was really golden in colour and almost red on the shoulders.

`You need to cover up this afternoon', I said, slipping past him and
putting my hand on his shoulder to stand. He looked up at me with a
thankful smile and once he had eaten about a pound of pasta and drunk two
litres of water he was back making my garden full of trenches and pits
wearing one of my baggy shirts, another wet towel over his neck and a
fishing hat that was my dads' on his head. By four in the afternoon he had
had enough and I was going to get some instruction.

`Come on, get your arse over here?', he shouted to me.

As I walked across to him, off came the hat, the wet towel and then the tee
shirt was ripped from over his head. I hoped my smile wasn't to obvious as
he pushed himself back on the seat so that I could go in front of him.

Once on the seat he enveloped me in his arms, pushing his nipples into my
back and jutting his head next to mine. He then pushed himself just away
from my skin so that it was only his buds I could feel on my back but his
shoulders were tight against mine.

`We are locked so we can just concentrate on using the scoop. I'm just
going to take you through getting up a lump of dirt.'

With that he took hold of the backs of my hands and put them on to the
controls, then smothered them with his and with a couple of movements we
had pulled out a bucket full of my garden and were moving round to dump it
to the side.

`Once more!', asked Derry.

I nodded and off we went again. Derry did this a few more times and rather
than letting me go on with it, he was soon showing me how to spin the
caterpillars and to make the digger dance, all now in his tight embrace.

After about twenty minutes, Derry flicked the engine off. We laughed our
way all the way back to the patio and it was Derry who helped me up with
his hands on my sides.

`Cute arse', he shouted as I climbed up onto the patio. Derry had dug out
the complete area in front of it so it was now a pit. I smiled at him in a
way I wish I hadn't and had to quickly think of making things more playful.

I sat down and saw to my right a bucket, full of water. I stood up and
threatened Derry with it. He protested with lots of bad acting so I just
covered him. He chased me into the kitchen.

`I have to get on a bus in a few minutes. I can't do that wet through',
protested Derry as he dripped all over the kitchen floor not caring about
anything lying around.

`I'll lend you some shorts', I replied, crouching down to root around in my
basket of dry clothes for the old ones I used to play rugby in. They were
at the bottom of the basket and when I looked back up, Derry was standing
next to me, minus his shoes

`These OK?', I asked.

`Fine', replied Derry and with a shake of his hips, his running shorts were
on the floor.

Just in front of my nose was his cock. It was slightly bloated and
twitching very slowly, about four inches long and with a big flap of
foreskin over a broad head The skin was purest milky white, so smooth and
with the hint of a vein crawling round to its rim. He had a small but
really dense bush of hair around the top of it, hair that didn't go on to
his ball sac which contained two little peaches in a pink and almost smooth
covering of silky matt skin. It was a fleeting glance but I had seen it.

If I had stared, Derry hadn't noticed either casually or on purpose. He was
inspecting the shorts, looking at the label and inspecting the linings.

`No skid marks. I'll wear them', he stated, and pulled them up. I saw it
flip inside the waistband.




My bed

I dreamt of his cock, or what I could remember of it, as I lay back in the
bath and released my spunk just like the day before, and the day before
that. It was Friday morning and I only had his company for the day before
he would be out of my life for a whole 48 hours.

It was seven in the morning and even when I got out of the bath, I felt so
horny. In the end I decided to wear some tight swimming trunks rather than
the boxer shorts I normally chose.

I was outside when he arrived and whilst I put sunscreen his back, and he
did mine, and there was lots of friendly and casual touching, lots of
playing with hair when we sat down to eat or drink, me touching him and him
me was all just friendly. We ended up the day sitting back to back at the
ramparts that was my back garden now the digger was gone.

`What are you up to this weekend?', asked Derry.

`Not a lot'. I am really knackered, `My brother's mate has his stag weekend
tonight actually, so I'm out with them on a pub crawl, back in town. I'm
going to get a taxi back as I have to sleep in my bed.'

`I'm out as well. My cousin has got some ladies lined up and he wants me to
come along', replied Derry, `Where are you going?'

`I dono', I replied, `we will probably end up down by the river.'

`I'll probably bump into you are down there', said Derry as he pushed
himself up, `Look I have to go. I'm cream crackered. If you want to knock
off some cash, then do so.'

`No way mate!', I said as Derry pulled me to my feet, `But ^Å. do you want
to come round tomorrow, or Sunday?

`I can't do anything this weekend. I need it in bed', joked Derry, elbowing
me in the side.

`I didn't mean to work', I replied, `Just to chill. I can show you some
computer skills, maybe see what you can design?'

Derry looked at me for a second, his green eyes glinting.

`I've got stuff to do for my mum and I get so pissed on a Friday night that
tomorrow is going to be me with a headache.'

He watched me as I went into my wallet and took out his cheque. I pulled
out the cash that I wanted him to have as well. It was £400 in total. I was
guilty that he might think the extra money there so that he felt guilty
himself.

`Holy shit!', cried Derry, `You have given me enough to get caned
completely.'

With that he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight, his mouth pressed
close he hair on the back of my neck with what I thought could have been a
kiss. I didn't have the feelings of that embrace as for the days before and
I was so sad all night. I knew I was in love.



Six hours later I was there with the stag party, walking in the line of
guys having a `good time' but detached from the group hug that was the main
section of us. Then there he was, coming towards us. He had on either arm a
girl, neither of them particularly attractive and both dressed with
practically nothing on. For one second I felt bad then good as when he saw
me he loosened his grip on both of them as if he wanted me to know that
they were nothing and was coming over.

I was wrong. He suddenly pulled them tight to him as I was sent flying by a
guy who jumped in front of me, a big man trying to photograph them with his
phone. I thought Derry was trying to come over after the photo only for him
to be enveloped in more people.

Two hours later and I was at the far end of the lowest tier of the
galleries outside the town's `hottest' night club, on the edge of the
river. Normally it would have been full of couples trying to eat each
other's faces because it was so hidden away and not in view to anyone from
above. Maybe I had scared them off as I watched the river float by me and
allowed the drink to sink into my stomach for an hour

I felt the wooden floor creak.

`There you are! I've been looking for you for the last half hour. I was
waiting by the exit. Saw your brother still there so I thought you had to
be here somewhere. I had to come looking for you!', slurred Derry.

He planted himself right next to me and with drunken dexterity passed a
bottle round the back of my head, then wrapping my shoulders with his arm.

`This is for you!' he stated before be dropped the bottle, which somehow I
caught.

`Cheers Derry!', I said in my own drunken way.

`You know, the last week has been fucking great. I hope I've found a
friend?', he half whispered.

`You are special Derry. You've made my week because I thought I was going
to get a shit builder doing a shit job and my garden would never be
finished, and on both counts you are the man! And you don't run a mile when
I get girlie.'

Derry hugged me into him. His breath was horrific, all curry. I just loved
it and was tenting my pants like I had never done since I was a child.

`You know those slappers?', he muttered in my ear before a swig of drink.

`I saw them. They looked hot!', I replied, lying. My tent in my pants was
as big as it could get.

`Hot!' cried Derry, `You must be fucking joking! My brother wants me to
fuck both of them. Hell, I'd rather give you a blow job, as long as you
would do me as well!'

I just took his words as the drunken joke it was and ruffled his hair,
trying to make him not look down.

`Thanks Derry. I didn't know you cared!'

`He says I can use a rubber!', mouthed Derry to my cheek, `He knows my
sperm are extra strong, that they eat condoms. Then the other one, the fat
one tells me she is on the pill. My dick isn't going anywhere near her
dirty fanny. Nope!'

`I thought you just got that girl pregnant by just doing it. You unlucky
bastard to get a condom fail on you!', I said, thinking back to how he had
become a father.

`Nope. I wasn't unlucky. I was stupid. She told me she was on the
pill. Fucking smarty it was, nothing medicinal. I don't want to fuck with a
rubber. Do you fuck with a rubber?'

`What are you going to do?', I asked, trying to stay somewhere in control
of the situation and my pants.

`What, about the slappers?', was his reply, followed by another guzzle on
his bottle of beer

`Yep, them?', I replied.

`Well I am going to stay here with you for the next hour, then I'm coming
round tomorrow, like you said, because I miss you!', he said, letting his
head fall onto my shoulder.

`My taxi comes in 10 minutes', I had to reply with a gulp from my own
bottle.

`Then you've got a passenger. My house is on your way. I can't stop here
with those two after my sexy body', said Derry, lifting up his shirt with
his free hand and caressing himself, `I could always come back to your
place! Here, cop a feel of this!'

He tried to grab my hand to put it on his flesh. I just had to hold back
and was so conscious of how much my erection stood up.

`Not tonight you are not', I said, not knowing why, `But you can stay
tomorrow if you want, if you make it.'

I don't know why I said that either, as there was only one bed in the
house.

We stood up together and I supported him walking through the stairways and
ramps back into the bar and past the dance floor. It was there that I lost
him, just as the alarm on my mobile hone went off, vibrating away in my
pocket and playing the same sport of crap music that the DJ was blasting
out for the idiots crammed under the lights.

My brother was stood against a pillar. He hadn't drunk much and he offered
his hand for me to slap on the way past as our brotherly sign of
recognition.

`Where have you been then you little shark?', he shouted.

I made an OK sign as I hunted for Derry. I had to make the taxi rank just
up the street by 1 am or else I would not get the lift because of the
distance I had to go and I just didn't want to hang around. He was next to
the wall, with the two girls on either side of him, both with their hands
up his shirt. There was a pair of eyes looking at me, those of his cousin,
the man who had been taking the photograph with his phone. I stared back
and despite my state of drunkenness, I realised that I didn't fancy him and
that he didn't look like Brad Pitt.

I was nearly at the taxi rank when I heard the cries from behind me. It was
Derry running as fast as his disconnected legs would let him.

`Wait for me you bastard. You were going to leave me to them!'


On the Saturday morning I felt terrible. My pillows were arranged on the
bed to model Derry for me to hug all night and my clothes were thrown all
over the house when I had imagined how he had stayed in the taxi and come
back with me and ripped them all off. I stood naked the kitchen swilling
down water before I moved on to a bowl of cereal and set the toaster going.

The food and some paracetemol made me human again when I came back down and
switched on the kids chart show on the TV. It was as glorious as the day
before and soon I was on my sun lounger with a paper, not thinking about
what I had asked Derry and what his answer had been.

All the spunk that was on my sheets and was now in the washing machine had
taken away my imagination of what me and Derry could be. I was thinking
about how honest I needed to be if I posted a profile on the Internet. I
wasn't bad looking. Maybe I was going to get thin on top by mid thirties
but my body was in really good shape, if you didn't look too hard and then
notice how my posture was out of line. My legs were too thin though. As for
my character, I had to stop think about how driven I had been physically
and how mad I was now about mental work. I was just drifting off to sleep
when I heard the cry.

`Sorry boss!'

I jumped up and hit my head on the canopy of the parasol. There was Derry
at my back gate, his head in the hedge, his broad back heaving as he puked.

He turned to face me, his head bright red, his body white and pasty, his
eyes squinting and horrible orange coloured spit round his mouth.

`I just couldn't keep it down', he muttered.

`You look like shit!', I offered as my immediate comment.

`I feel like it', responded Derry, `I had to walk. There are no buses on a
Saturday morning, not after 10.'

I pulled a towel from the washing I had just hung out. It was half dry and
Derry grabbed it from me to bury his head in it.

`I have the worst headache. I tried having a drink coming over here but I
just couldn't keep it down. Don't have any sunglasses so my eyes hurt.'

It was my turn to be positive in grasping him and I did so, wrapping him my
right arm and leading him up the pile of stones he had built the day before
instead of the steps that were once there. Once in the kitchen, I
un-wrapped the towel from over his head and took out a bottle of water from
the fridge. Derry perched himself on the edge of the sink. He had on a pair
of brand new jeans and some Nike trainers with holes in the toes. There was
no sign of a top.

He said nothing as I gave him sips of water from a glass, enough eventually
for me to consider him having some headache pills.

`You need to lie down for a bit. Come on, you can use my bed', I said,
grabbing him under the arm and throwing it round my neck. His body was cold
and clammy to the touch. I could see more sick stains on his jeans and his
body had been drenched in sweat a couple of times but he had obviously put
on some special deodorant so that two of the odours that he gave off made
me feel fantastic. It was just the smell of his guts that I had to ignore.

With the water bottle in hand, I carefully dragged him up the stairs and
into my bedroom. I had only put a sheet back on the bed, and new
pillowcases, but it was really warm with the sun flooding in through the
wide open windows. He sat on the edge of bed by himself and looked up at me
really sheepishly. I smiled at his eyes and at his body, all folds and
rolls.

`Here you are. Take these. One at a time', I said offering him the aspirin
in halves.

>From my linen cupboard, I pulled out my biggest towel and laid it on the
bed behind him.

`You need to get some sleep. I'm going to wash those jeans for you so that
they don't get ruined.'

Derry stood up and flicked at the button on the waistband. He hadn't taken
off his shoes so I did that for him and as I stood up, he braced himself on
my shoulders. I looked at the line of little hairs running down from his
belly button and carefully opened the front. Derry went to help me by
taking his hands from my shoulders and trying to push down both jeans and
his briefs. He lost his balance momentarily and had to go back to me for
support, allowing me to hold his underwear whilst I pulled down the jeans
from his waist.

The front opening of his briefs was open. There, like a bird in a nest was
his cock, tucked away in its nest of pubic hair. It looked almost like an
Alien monster as it was part curled, with his big cock head nestled into
the top of his ball sack, that covered but still visible as was the bulge
made by his two balls. I took in the sweaty and musty scent as I had a deep
breath instead of a swoon at his rod

`Sit down', I said and he did so.

I pulled jeans off and then helped him back into the middle of my bed and
up against the bank of pillows that I created. Then I went to my bathroom
and wetted up a towel.

`Just lie back and let nurse take care of you', I laughed. Derry had his
eyes shut and was close to sleep so I just started to wipe down his face
and his neck. His chest and his abs were spotted with yellow and orange so
I gently wiped them away. Once I was happy he was clean, I went back into
my bathroom and grabbed a plastic bowl from under the sink and placed that
on the edge of the bed.

He was now flat on his back with legs slightly apart. From the white of his
underwear, his shaft had sprung out. I thought about just getting a sheet
to cover him not doing so because it was so warm. I closed the
curtains. Seeing people being sick doesn't have a great effect on me so I
didn't want to stay but I didn't want him to wake and find himself
exposed. Just flicking it back into its covering and doing up the single
button made my heart race and my face blush. I did touch it albeit it so
briefly and my fingers weren't washed went I left him to sleep.


It was gone two in the afternoon and I was out in the sun, standing on the
biggest peak of dirt Derry had constructed the day before. I was wearing a
pair of small shorts and flexing my pecs. Out of the kitchen ambled Derry
in his white briefs, scratching and holding his package.

`Go on, pose for me!', shouted Derry. `Go on, pump yourself up!'

I blushed, `Shut up, the neighbours will hear', I replied

`Come on big boy!'

I started to flex with my arms down my sides pointing my fingers to the
side. I then turned them in and pulled them up my front before pushing my
arms out wide and doing an Arnold.

`Come on you sexy bastard!', cried Derry, one hand clenched in a pumped
fist, the other firmly over his groin.

On I went and a couple of times he clapped me. My quick glances back to him
were just that, split second movements. I didn't know whether I actually
saw a pipe pointing to one side in those white pants but I never got a
chance to look properly as Derry would always return at least one hand to
covering anything that was happening.

When I started to sweat, I stopped my display and started to climb down the
mound.

`Can I get a shower', asked Derry, his hands gently fondling his package.

`Sure, help yourself. The towels are fresh in the bathroom. Take any of my
clothes you want to dare to wear', I replied.

I stared as he turned and waddled back into the kitchen, his buttocks
flopping up and down.

Twenty minutes later and I was lying on my lounger with a can of
coke. Derry strode out from the kitchen with a couple of fresh cans in his
hands. He had chosen a pair of my briefs, a pair that were mid blue and at
least a couple of years old. They were clean and they were far too small
for him.

His thighs were popping out of the leg holes. His package bulged from the
cotton and his white skin was visible as a couple of inches of a sector of
a circle, underneath the earthy brown of his abs. He pushed his way onto
the edge of the lounger.

`That was stupid', he said as he swigged from his can.

`You walked all the way here?', I asked.

`I got up at 10. I missed the last bus by a minute and I was feeling shit
then so I started to run. That made me puke first time', said Derry.

`Where is your shirt?', I said.

`Didn't get one in the rush to make the bus. When your bod is a good as
mine, you can show it off. I knew you'd have your bod out. Keep the jeans
slung low and the girls, and some guys, all give you the look!' laughed
Derry as he pushed me more to the side so that he could lie down.

He actually did this by lying on his back with his head on my chest, his
freshly washed curls lying across my breast.

`I got to the little village half way here and I was able to get a Lucozade
and some water. Then the headache started. I puked that lot up about a mile
from here and then it was just staggering. Anyway, your being a nursey and
sleeping it off in your bed, and what a bed that is, and I'm ready for
action. What are we going to do then? Nothing I hope!'

`You liked the bed?', I asked, `It a special orthopaedic one so that my
back keeps in top shape.'

`I'll have a good nights sleep then', said Derry in a sort of matter of
fact way.

My mind started spinning as I recalled what he had said to me the night
before. I didn't know what to say but something came out.

`As long as you stay on your side of the bed', I replied.

Derry grabbed my thigh in a playful way.

`So what are we going to do then?', he asked again, his look slightly
pleading

`Chill, till five or six, a bit of sunbathing when the sun gets round to by
the kitchen door, as I haven't got any other garden at the moment! Then if
you want, you can come and help me chose my next dog!', I said, holding up
the local newspaper where I had put a ring around the advert for German
Shepherds which would be ready in a couple of weeks.

Derry was on his feet and then sat on my stomach, tickling my ribs, all in
one motion.

`I love dogs', he shouted, then paused for a few seconds, `What happened to
the one in the picture, the one when you were in hospital?

I thought back to my beloved Jessie.

`She was killed by a car. The week after I was sent home. That set me back
a bit.'

Derry sat down on my hips and put his hands on my stomach. The pressure
made me cry out.

`Aaagh! Sorry Derry!', I screamed.

He helped me stand and held the base of my back, peering at my groin.

`Sorry boss. I didn't realise, sorry I didn't think', he said, moving his
hand onto my shoulder, `Does it all work down there?'

`I am a love machine, always have been and always will. No, you just put
some pressure on a spur that is left over after all the fiddling around
down there', I replied, `With the house finished, a new dog, and then some
love in my life, then I can get on with it!'

`I really can't understand how you don't have queue of girls outside the
door!', said Derry with a grab of my shoulder, `I though that you might not
be in full working order, down there!'

I looked down as Derry did, then punched him gently in the stomach.

`Me and mine are fine', I replied, `Anyway, I thought you would have had a
marathon sex session with those two last night and your bed would be
falling to pieces with all the notches on it!'

`I never have had much success with the girls', replied Derry, `Never could
stay with one for long. Can't figure them out most of the time.'

`Looks like you are in "working order"', I said, returning my gaze to the
sliding monster that was making its way east in my pants on Derry.

Derry blushed and put both hands to his groin, `Its all the talking about
getting some', he joked, `Can I grab some shorts?'

I followed Derry into the kitchen where he found a sarong my sister had
given me (for a joke Christmas present) to wrap around his hips. He ate
some yoghurt from the fridge whilst I made coffee. By the time the kettle
had boiled, he was outside and had dragged the lounger right next to the
kitchen door so that it would catch the afternoon sun.

`Come on, let me get your back', he said, his right hand full of oil. I
turned round and let him at my muscles, enjoying his touch. When he bent
down and went to work on the back of my legs, I just relaxed and let him
weave his hands up and down, even when his fingers went to the inside of my
thighs.

`My turn', I said and I reciprocated all over his back and his legs

I finished at his ankles and as I stood up, he turned to face me and took
the bottle from my hand. Carefully measuring some oil into the palm of one
hand, he then transferred it into his other hand and smoother them
together.

`Not so fast!', I said and I did the same to my hands. My mind was racing

Derry reached across to my chest. It wasn't anything other than fun and we
both knew it. We were playing as we smoothed across each other's muscles,
as we brushed each others side or then each other's nipples then under each
other's belly buttons.

`Do you want it?', I asked, raising my eyebrows as high as I could, as a
joke to relieve any tensions.

`Nope, I need to lie down', whispered Derry, `My headache has come on
again.'

For the next two hours we lay jammed up against each other, sporting
sunglasses, Derry having borrowed a pair from my car. When one turned over,
the other had to so that the lounger did not topple over. Towards the end
of the time in the sun, Derry moved onto his side and put his arm over my
chest, a position in which we both slept for a few minutes.

I had timed my mobile to go off at half past five, to go to the Dog
Breeders. It would take about 40 minutes.

`You ready for a drive?', I asked, pushing myself in Derry's part embrace.

`We're going to see some puppies!', said Derry.

`You bet. I am just going to get a vest. What colour do you want?', I asked
from the kitchen door.

`I'm fine like this', replied Derry.

With my sunglasses on, I could stare at him whenever I wanted and he was
fine, he was so beautiful, this afternoon's sun having given him more
little whiter lines along the lines of his muscles.

Derry grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge which we shared on the
drive before getting into my car. Derry once again wedged into the corner
of the seat and the door. When we got to the farm where the dogs were
advertised, he sauntered a few paces behind me as I introduced myself.

I introduced him as "my mate", to which the middle aged woman in a long
skirt politely smiled before then giving him much more attention than me as
we walked round to the bottom of her garden. I knew why because he looked
like an angel in the lowering sun, almost cherry brown as the Sun hit his
body

`I'll let them all out at once', said the Lady, `Madam will come out first
but she really doesn't care for them much anymore so she will run
off. There are four you can choose from and they have white collars. The
advert is actually wrong because you can have them next weekend if you
want.'

`I only want one, maybe!', I replied, fingering my cheque book in my
pocket..

Derry came over and stood just behind me as the kennel doors opened,
putting hand on my shoulder.

The bitch was first through the little door, looking around before she
eased herself out. In her moment of looking around, she was surrounded by
little faces and as she shook herself down, out came seven of the prettiest
puppies, each one almost jet black with the odd gold markings here and
there.

Two big dog puppies dashed off immediately into a flower bed. Another male
just planted himself on the ground barely two foot from the door. Then came
the girls and it was just like when I had chosen before. There was one who
stood looking around for a moment before seeing me and Derry. She came over
and sniffed. Derry squeezed my shoulder a bit more before she tried to claw
her way up my legs. I reached down and picked her up and she tried to crawl
over my shoulder to lick Derry all over his face. He leant into me so that
she could switch between his face and my ears.

The lady gave us tea whilst Sammy, our chosen name for the dog, played with
Derry on the floor, planting herself on his bare chest to which all the
others came over and attacked him until he had to jump up to stop being
scratched. The dogs then just chewed at his toes.

`I'm just going to have a walk around', said Derry as we prepared to go,
`Whilst you pay the money. We, sorry you, you are having one?'

I sat at the table and wrote out the huge cheque whilst the owner filled
out a couple of forms and wrote my details on the new collar for Sammy. As
I prepared to get up, her hand slipped over to mine.

`If you don't mind me saying, you two are so wonderful together', she said
gently. Her other hand reached across the table.

I blushed.

`Its always the case that you see effeminate men, on the television
especially, and half the time I don't believe they really love each
other. They always make me feel so unsure.'

I tried to say something but she carried on.

`You two are just like my sons and if one of them came back with one of you
two, sorry someone like either of you, then I really wouldn't mind them
sleeping together, not that they are ^Å. Its just something I never thought
I would say, ever. And you are both so handsome!'

I stood up, very flustered. Derry was maybe thirty yards away, leaning over
the gate.

`Thanks, but its not like that!', I said.

`I appreciate that you may just want to be private, but if two people were
ever in love with each other, then it is you two. I fully respect you. It
is so obvious.'

I shook her hand and sauntered over to Derry who opened up the gate for me.

`You look ill!', said Derry, putting his hand on my shoulder. I stopped for
a second, thinking about trying to pull away from his touch. I wanted it so
it stayed.


We were back at my house as the sun was just going down and it was getting
colder with a few clouds and the wind getting up so Derry accepted a
tracksuit jacket which zipped up at the front. I put on a tight tee shirt
and started cooking whilst he opened some wine and started drinking.

`I think I left the windows open in the bedroom. Do you want to go and
close them?', I asked.

`Sure', replied Derry. He was back quickly and sat on the edge of table
right behind me rather than on one of my two chairs.

`Are you alright me staying in your bed?', he asked.

I blushed and did not turn to talk to him but I did reply, `I said you can
stay. Where else are you going to sleep. That thing in the lounge has got
springs coming out of it.'

Derry sat saying nothing for a few seconds, sometime staring at me, then
coughed

`Have you got £20 I can borrow', said Derry, `At least till Monday or
whenever I can get it back to you.'

I didn't understand the question and just told him to go and look in my
wallet. I did turn round to see him stuff the money in the waistband pocket
of my shorts he wore, leaning back against the table once again.

`What do you want it for?', I asked.

`Just in case, of emergencies', replied Derry, `What are we having for
dinner then?'

`I've got some steak and I have oven chips. You eat salad in the sandwiches
so there is some of that as well. You said your cousin cleaned you out last
night?'

Derry laughed.

`That was fantastic, what you gave me. I really really appreciate it. I
cleared this month for the baby and then I paid my mum up front, rather
than at the end of the month. Then the whip for last night was £75 so I
have nothing left. I need this for a taxi.'

`I'll take you back. I said I would', I replied.

`You might not want to', replied Derry, `And anyway you've had a couple of
beers and that wine.'

I turned my head, `I said you could stay. I want you to stay. I know its
not a great night but you should say if you don't like it. I've got a
surround sound TV in my bedroom and loads of DVDs. I don't mind you being
in my bed!'

`Its not that', said Derry, `In 10 minutes time you might not want to see
me again.'

`I've had the best day and chilling with a new friend, I reckon my best
friend, has been brilliant', I replied.

Derry got up and stood right behind me. He was breathing heavily.

`You need to take off that top', he stammered.

I put the knife down I was cutting the meat up with.

`It has got hot in here', I said, ready to put my hands on the bottom of
the cloth.

`No, you don't need to do that', Derry muttered, `I want to help you.'

`OK', I whispered. This was it.

Derry slid his hand under either side of my tee-shirt and put his hand on
the flesh of my sides. I flinched. Slowly he ran his hands up to my ribs,
moving them slightly forward so that as he moved further up, he brushed up
over my chest and my nipples.

`Holy shit', I cried as Derry pulled the cloth back over my head. I nearly
fainted and fell back. He held me then turned me round so that our faces
were no more than a foot apart. His hands moved up to my shoulders.

`That woman, the dog woman, she said to you that we were gay?', whispered
Derry

`I'm not gay. You are not going home. I am just in love with the man who is
going to build my house and do my garden', I whispered.

`You love me, because I am mad for you, so fucking mad its not true',
replied Derry straight into my left ear.

I put my hand up to the zip on his top.

`When you walked through that door last Monday, and you said you were hot,
and you showed me this', I said, pulling the zip down, `Then I got lust.'

I ran my hand up inside the right hand side of the opening until my hand
was on his heart. He moved forward an inch or so at which our bellies
touched. I pushed the jacket open and off his shoulders. Moving together,
our chests moved together as our faces slid just past each other. The way
my body sank into his slightly thicker flesh was a second explosion of
chemicals through my brain and then down into my body.

I eased my head back and licked my lips. In so much close-up I could see
Derry's eye ball, his pupil turned to look into mine. He moved his head
across mine until our noses touched just for a split second.

Suddenly, from the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the kitchen came
the sound of a really old mobile phone ring.

Derry jumped back.

`Sorry! What have you done with it?', shrieked Derry.

`Its on the top of your jeans', I replied, pushing myself back against the
sink, `What's wrong?'

`Its my mobile. I don't have the cash for one to use properly. I've no
credit on it at the moment. Mum knows it's for emergencies!', said Derry,
clicking open the tatty old plastic case and walking through to the lounge.

I took the steak and started battering it out ready for frying, to be
interrupted by the buzzer going off on my cooker. The chips were ready. I
was falling to pieces.

`What's wrong Mum? ^Å. You want me to talk to Patrick? ^Å what does he
want? ^Å Patrick, what's going on? ^Å You want me to come out tonight? ^Å
No, I never said anything about it! ^Å. No, I am not in town ^Å. Where I am
is nothing to do with you ^Å. Hi Mum^Å no I don't want to talk about it
^Å. He's talking rubbish ^Å I've had a great day ^Å. I've been to help a
mate, sorry a friend, I've been to help him chose a new dog ^Å I don't know
what we are doing tonight ^Å. He's got something arranged ^Å'

I tried to help Derry out and shouted across to him

`Derry, the girls are coming in ten minutes. Get a move on!'

`There you go Mum, I've got to go ^Å I'm kipping on the floor and I'll be
home sometime tomorrow ^Å yeah, love you too ^Å!'

Derry walked back into the light of the kitchen, his chest heaving. He
threw the phone back behind him into the dark. With his hands to his sides,
his arms tensed, he stared at me.

`He knows', he whispered, `Don't think he is sure about you.'

`I'm sure about you', I said.

`You never done this before?', asked Derry, screwing his face up and
laughing at the same time.

`I've never been as close to a man as I am going to get tonight', I
replied, my groin straining in my pants.

`Thing is, you are going to get to know me from head to toe, and I'm going
to get to know all of you, and I mean all of you', said Derry, flashing his
smile at me and his eyes so bright.

I winced at the thought of him going near my arse.

`But the thing is', he said, looking down for a second, `Is that I am going
to be up all night, and so are you, but I'm ^Å', he went on.

`You are what?', I asked, completely unsure of what was going on.

`I am fucking starving and I'm a big boy, especially down there', said
Derry, his lips in his widest smile, `I just have to have something to
eat.'

`OK', I said. I went over to the frying pan and turned the heat right up. I
could live with the expectation if it meant I felt like I was, just one
fire.

`That doesn't mean I don't want to eat your face for a bit', said Derry,
moving to right next to me so that I could feel his breath on my face.

I turned to him and put my hand between his arm and his hip, very gently
touching his skin. He copied me. Our noses and our eyes were moving
together slowly. I kept my eyes fixed on his. The bridge of our lips
touched then there was more contact, my mouth melting into his. Our flesh
did the same, pressing into its new lover. His hands went behind my back
and mine to his waist. Tongues clipped each other. His nose and mine kept
brushing against their partner. I could see into his green eyes, a myriad
of colours A hand moved to behind my head and I responded to the gentle
force that clenched our mouths together. I could smell his taste with
complete clarity. It wasn't like any woman, more earthy and distinct. This
was the best kiss I had ever had in my life.

`Fuck it boss, do you want to burn down the kitchen?', screamed Derry,
pulling me back.

I turned to see the frying pan billowing out smoke and flames.

`I think its hot enough!', I laughed.


I left the oven on so that it didn't get cold in the kitchen. I wanted to
keep looking at the body I was going to make love to. Derry ate like a
maniac and was finished before I had eaten half my plate. He leant back on
his chair and stretched his arms out as if he was tired. I saw little
trickles of sweat coming form in his arm hair bush. He then rubbed his
stomach which he blew out in his mans' pregnant pose.

`I've had enough', I said, pushing my plate to one side.

`You need time to let your food go down. Its going to be tough up there',
said Derry with a smile, flicking his eyes to the sky, `And if you are
going to leave chips, then I'll finish them off.'

`Do you want some more wine?', I asked sheepishly as Derry flicked his hand
back and forth across the table to take chips then to grab the last bit of
meat I had left.

I didn't feel cold but my skin was covered in goose bumps. Derry leant
forward and stared at me, his eyes twinkling.

`I've waited I reckon five years for this', he said in a matter-of-fact
way, pushing his hands towards me, `I first had a crush of Patrick, my
cousin, when I went to work for him. That lasted for a couple of years. He
was the idiot who set me up with the slut who has my kid.'

`I think I had my first crush, about the same time as you. He was my best
friend at school. I've waited a few years longer', I replied.

`You never had any sort of experiences whatsoever?', asked Derry. I shook
my head.

`Patrick tied me naked to a tree once, when I was 16. I don't know why I
didn't say fuck to him then', muttered Derry, `And I was once in a wanking
contest at school, when I was 14.'

`You are going to be the first man to see me ...' , I replied.

Derry interrupted, `See you cum. You are going to cum as many times as I
can get you to.'

With that he stood up and came round to next to me. He crouched down and
smiled. I stood up. He put his arm round my shoulders and I put my arm
round his back. It seemed surreal that he flicked off the kitchen lights as
we went into my hall and started up the stairs. In the stair window, I
looked out and saw a man with his dog. I just could not believe where I was
going and maybe my lack of confidence or realisation was showing because
Derry grabbed my shoulder and squeezed.

We went into my bedroom. It was hot. All the windows were shut and Derry
had switched on the little heater one the wall. I just thought he had been
so confident.

`You want the lights on, or off?', whispered Derry.

`Lights on. I want to see you not just touch you, and feel you', I replied.

We sort of arranged ourselves next to the bed.

`You want me to take off your shorts first?', mouthed Derry .

`Nope!', I said, reaching to the waistband of my shorts on his body. I
pulled them open with a jerk. His cock head sprung up. Looking at Derry, I
smiled and tried to push them down.

Derry had braced his legs so that his thighs were at their thickest. I had
to crouch down to push them past his muscles and to get them to the floor
from where I could stare at his sack, all bloated and a pinky brown.

Standing up, my hair brushed against his side and the shudder that Derry
made was incredible. He held me on both upper arms before reaching down to
the buckle on my belt. He flicked that open and then went to the front
button. I took in a deep breath as that was popped. Thumbs pushed into my
sides, just above my hips. I knew, from what I had just seen that I was not
as big as Derry, certainly not as wide. I gulped at what he might think.

Derry followed my shorts down to the floor, his gaze going over the whole
length of me. My hands rushed to my forehead in real panic. I need not have
thought of anything bad as Derry gently blew on me and looked up straight
after to give me his best smile. He stood up and I could sense his hand
moving to me. The touch was everything I had imagined.

 It gently pulled up against my sack, one finger being there for one of my
balls to fall over at the passing touch. The hand continued up, fingers
splitting to go either side of my shaft, an organ which was tender and
rigid at the same time. My own shudder made me lean into him.

I pushed my forehead to him and worked my fingers round the fatness of his
shaft.

`You can't do that', he panted in my ear, `I'm going to jizz any second.'

`Think of something unsexy', I whispered back to him, sliding my hands to
his balls, `Think of being here with those two girls.'

`I need to do this!', he stated and we were flying back into the bed. I
feared for my hips but Derry held himself off me with outstretched arms so
that I bounced to a standstill under him

When Derry lowered his balls into mine, I just relaxed back into the sheet,
waiting for his shaft. I sensed every square millimetre of his cock skin as
it sank onto mine, then slipped past onto my belly. His torso enveloped me
and he put his nose to mine as if to start a kiss. That just didn't happen
as he suddenly started to flutter then push his hips into me.

`I can't hold it back, I'm so sorry!', he cried, pushing himself up on one
elbow and arching his back and his neck. His mouth was wide open letting me
see the odd filling. His eyes shut tight and out came the warmth between
our two bellies, his pushed into mine.  I could not hold mine back at this,
the musty smell of him simply blowing my brains in a sexual way. Letting
him down into my embrace, my hands went to his buttocks and help him crush
his cock into mine. I just let my spunk flow.

Derry' face was red and covered in perspiration. I reached up and pushed
back the curls from over his eyes. He starred at me for a moment then
pushed himself back and up from my body, back down onto the bed lying on
his side. He was stained in our white fluid. I was covered and smudged in
it

Derry put his hand to the bottom of my belly and pushed his fingers up to
collect together some of our jism. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and
drank and I could see he didn't mind what was in his mouth. He enjoyed
it. He looked like he was in heaven.

His mouth went to my belly and his lips smothered across my skin, gathering
up more of us. My body didn't react to his touch. It was more like just
waiting and slowly he clambered back on top of me. The touch of his soft
cock and his balls made me tense ready for the touch of his lips against
mine.

The kiss was warm and wet. Teeth open, we pushed our tongues into each
other and I could fully taste our bodies. This kiss grew in passion for the
next few minutes, excitement building as all my senses joined. I smelt him
and our spunk. Our lips grew in sensitivity. His face was in contact with
mine. Our fronts were glued together and as we started to sweat, then our
bodies grew softer and the contact was even more intimate.

I didn't know how much my cock would also enjoy what was happening to
it. This was finding something better than pushing myself into a woman or
the contact when I wasn't hard that I had known was something I just didn't
enjoy. Now I could feel him, his soft hardness and how our balls moulded
into each other. The hair on his legs was the other thing that made me
warm. It was rough and smooth at the same time, a friction that went from
my toes through to my hips.

Hands on each others bodies and hair was the final act then prelude for him
going to explore me. I watched, through the corner of my eye, as he slipped
down to my neck and kissed my shoulder. He drew in my scent with a
deliberate breath then gently touched me all away across the top of my
chest with his sticky lips.

Derry's hands were on my chest, not cupping my pecs but holding them as his
mouth moved towards my nipples. I knew that my buds were sensitive. What
was going to happen to them I simply wasn't prepared for. No girl had ever
brushed them and made them so tight and erect. No girl had ever let the
flat of her tongue rest on them and then pull across them so that I cried
out in ecstasy. No teeth had held them whilst I could feel breath on my
skin, a sensation that had made me whimper so much that Derry would come
back to my face to check on whether I was alright.

Derry brushed the side of his face against my ribs before starting on
covering my abs in gentle little kisses. He stopped just after my belly
button having blown at the gently fattening head of my cock. Pushing
himself up my body, he used his fully inflated shaft against my leg and
then my hip to stimulate me. It worked.

`Are you happy?' I asked him between kisses.

`Happy?', laughed Derry in a gentle way, `I have your body all to myself
and its perfect.'

`My cock isn't so big', I said, my face going red from embarrassment at
talking to another man about my intimacy.

`I love your muscles. I love your smell. I love your spunk, or is it
mine. And as for my new toy, I don't have much idea apart from my own. Mine
looks a bit like me^Å'

`Big and fat!', I interjected.

`I'm going to bite it if you keep talking like that', replied Derry, `I
need to go and investigate how small it really is.'

With that he was pushing his way towards my rod which he took into his
mouth straight off, to which I just reached down to clutch onto his
shoulders and cry out. He gently pushed his lips over and down it for a few
strokes, taking my foreskin back from my head

`Its perfect and I don't want it to be any longer', he said to me as he
looked up my torso, holding it in his palm. My response was to pump what
little blood I had left elsewhere in my body into my shaft.

His touches, especially with his teeth along my length, made me hold my
head in my hands. I closed my eyes as his nose pressed into the start of my
sack, knowing that in second he would replace the touch of his hand on my
balls with that of his mouth. I felt every movement as he put both into his
mouth and they gently fell between his tongue and the insides of his
cheeks.

My balls felt like they were wallowing in Derry's mouth before he started
using his tongue on them. I could sense when he pulled against hairs and as
he moved up and down my ball chords and his lips against the side of my
thighs.

Derry let my balls pop from his mouth then moved to the hair on the inside
of my thighs. I enjoyed that almost as much as him sucking my balls and the
anticipation was making me sweat again, especially as he re-arranged
himself between my legs, pushing them apart. He was going to make me cum
for him.

As he slid my foreskin right back and kissed my slit, I reached down and
let my hands rest on his curls. With lips first pursed, he then pushed them
down over my head to its ridge and let his tongue flutter around all over
my head.

Derry seemed to snort as he pushed down, straining my skin back even more
onto the rock of my shaft, firstly slowly and then faster, then slow
again. His hand cupped my sack and rolled my balls across his fingers, with
a touch or two to my ridge of muscle running through to my arse making the
sensation blind me for flashes of more pure ecstasy.

I held my orgasm back as best I could, taking my hands from his head and
placing them on my abs to help me think only about long breaths. It was
like my cock was on fire and Derry helped me by clasping my sack and
pulling it down to try to release the tension that was never going to go
away.

I could sense when his fingers slid into where my sack joined my shaft,
something I really enjoyed, just being able to feel something other than
the heat that was my groin. My cum was unstoppable though.

`Derry!' I cried. He did not stop. He put my sack into his hand and folded
his fingers round it as I lost control and felt my jism building inside me.

`Oh fuck', was my last words before I started to pump my sperm into his
mouth.

Derry took it all. I knew he swallowed the first dollops, his hand pressing
into just above my groin to let me know with a touch of reassurance. My
next spurt was with just my head in his mouth and his tongue brushed around
the unbelievably sensitive skin of my first blow job from a man. The third
and fourth lots of my cum seemed to just flow and flow and before I could
think, he was up at my face, his lips covered in white spunk which was soon
on my lips as he pressed them together.

It was really warm and sticky. Only when I opened my mouth to let him pass
his mouthful of my manliness into my mouth did I take in the scent that I
had been waiting for, for so long. It wasn't me. It was the lust from him.

I knew I loved the body look. I could realise that some men, like some
women, had personalities that made them people I did not want to make love
to. This was completely different. My mind flooded with images of him, from
that afternoon when he walked shirtless around the dog breeder's garden, so
smooth and so gold in the setting sun.

`Did you enjoy that?' he whispered in my ear, `Because if you did, you are
going to get lots more of that and you are going to get kisses any time,
anywhere!'

I turned my head to try and looked right into his eyes, which I did manage
after squashing my nose against his cheek.

`You just blew me away. I don't mean that as a joke. I just want to be with
you for ever', I stated.

`Does that mean that you love me?, asked Derry, his eyes welling with
tears, `Because I am so in love with you its not true.'

`I thought us guys were supposed to be a bit more calculating?', I replied,
my own eyes damp.

`I have always wanted to have sex with a man, but the first time I get to
do it, I get to do it with someone I am in love with. I'm fucked to the
eyeballs', laughed Derry, his face staining with tears, little drops
rolling across his cheeks.

`You are supposed to be a big rough tough builder!', I said with a kiss.

`Doesn't matter who you are if you are as happy as I am now1', blubbed
Derry, `Just don't want to get all limp wrested and poofy.'

`If we are going to be ..', I stuttered before going on, `To be lovers,
then I just want this to be private. I don't want to be around other poofs
^Ö that is what we are you know.'

`My cousin knows', whispered Derry, crying even more, `And I have to live
with him telling my mum, if he finds out. Its going to go all over town
once he gets his fat mouth open.'

`Tomorrow you can go and get your stuff, whatever you want, and you can
come and live with me!', I replied, not knowing why I had made the decision
other than that my heart wanted Derry in my bed every night.

`We've known each other for a week. You don't know what I am like. I am a
freak really', said Derry in words so soft I could hardly hear them.

`From the moment you walked into the kitchen, not when you took your top
off but the way you were after, that's when I thought to myself "I like
this man"', I replied, `When I first smelt your breath, and felt it on my
face, that was all adding to what was making my heart go all soft.'

`You got a mushy ticker then?', asked Derry with a big smile spread across
his golden face. He gently punched me in the chest.

`I have now. Its in pieces actually. I think that the thing that is making
it so bad is that when I have fucked a woman, I've wanted her out of my bed
straight after', I said, `But I want to wake up tomorrow and have you lying
on top of me.'

`You aren't going to go to sleep tonight you know?', said Derry, a
mischievous glint in his eyes.

`I want to explore you now!', I replied, `I want to know everything about
you. Its my turn!'

`If you are going to eat my jizz, you ought to know that I reckon I am a
massive cummer!', said Derry, putting his hands behind his head and
wiggling his hips so that they relaxed as he laid himself flat on the bed.

I pushed myself against him and kissed him gently. My head went to his
neck. He was damp and smelt of sex, his sex. I don't know why but I moved
straight to his armpit where his smell was just really thick. I looked at
his wavy thin armpit hair, set in its white triangle of pale skin. There
was a sign of a vein in the skin and little droplets of sweat formed in one
particular place. His skin was soft to look at and soft when my nose
pressed into it.

My next kiss, then a gentle touch with my tongue, was to the cleft of his
chest. This part of him was now mine, its width and once more its gentle
skin fluttering in front of me. I pushed myself back up a bit and gently
placed my hand on it so that my fingers rested in the wetness of his
armpit, whilst the pad of my hand was pulling the skin down around his
nipple.

It was big, the size of a two pence coin. The little white points of
follicle, if he had any hair growing from them, were dotted against reddy
brown skin nipple skin which was two shades darker than the gold of his
chest. Out sprouted his bud, whiter brown, more like the follicles, proud
and slightly wrinkled on its end. I kissed it then set it against my teeth.

Opening my mouth I tasted him again and felt the hardening under my
tongue. Nuzzling it, I could feel Derry breath deeply, his chest filling
and his heart fluttering with his skin. I pushed it round with my face and
my lips then speed across his muscles, down and up against his skin that I
was loving so much.

His other nipple seemed cold so I devoured it, licking, teasing, stroking,
feeling, playing with it. I could feel the muscles that had dug my garden
underneath his flesh. I could rest against the gentle flab that covered him
and listen to him. I just had to kiss him once more before I went to his
cock.

His kiss came with a smile as I slipped back down his breastbone. I let my
cheeks rise and fall down his abs to the gentle hairs just around his belly
button, before slipping my face back up again just to feel the muscles and
the smooth flesh. He was wide, and strong and he was mine.

I did not want to go straight to his cock so I sat up over him, and felt
his knees and his thighs. My hand moved up to where his thighs were very
slightly furry and where his skin went white. That gave me a chance to take
in the white band that was his groin with his big fat white cock lying in
the middle of it. This was mine. It was all mine and he was letting me do
what I wanted to it.

Propped up on his elbows, Derry smiled at me as I put one hand on the
inside of his leg and then moved it up to touch his balls. His sack was too
big for me to slide my hand straight into place. I had to jiggle the skin
into my fingers and on to my palm.

His shaft was solid, like a ripe banana, on top of which sat his head, a
fat plum. Where his foreskin joined his head, he had two bulbs of red head
flesh trying to push themselves apart, his slit wide and long.

I leant over him and let his odour up into my nose. It was like wet wood,
and really warm. The darker skin on the underside of his shaft bulged
through its smooth surface with a couple of veins, three or four running up
the sides into the white skin. Little hairs grouped around the base of his
rod gave way to tight curls on either side that ran into his legs. With two
movements I put out my tongue and licked it on either side, straight up
from the root to the tip.

I kissed his sack, more pink than the rest of his groin. It was thicker
skin than mine, with just a few hairs spread over the surface, in between
the many little dips that were like cracks, all running down to the sheet
on the bed.

Each ball sat against a leg, bulging out from his sack. I kissed each one,
pushing my lips onto the skin and tasting him. Using my hand to help, first
one then both slipped into my mouth, filling it so that I could sense him
against my teeth and his balls pushed together over my tongue. I heard
Derry whimper and cry

The sac slipped out of my mouth and I went to each ball in turn, licking it
and then taking it back inside me so that I could run my tongue over it,
tasting him more and finding his ball chord. As I moved back to his shaft ,
I turned my head across him and took the base of his shaft in my mouth,
holding it with my teeth.

`I am going to shoot if you keep this up!', cried Derry.

I moved back over his belly and kissed him gently.

`We are going to have to make this last a long time', I whispered.

I nuzzled his shaft against the side of my face, up to my forehead, so that
it rested against the side of my nose. From there I could run the edge of
my lips against his rod and slowly I moved up until the ridge of his
foreskin was there for me to taste, much more strong than the rest of his
cock.

My face against the ridge of his head was an even better best feeling I had
ever had in my life and my mouth slipped round so that I could kiss it.

`Just breathe deeply and think of those two girls who could have had the
benefit of this last night', I told him.

My hand slipped to the base of his rod and gently took it in my fingers. He
moaned.

I had dreamt of this for twelve years, not initially for wanting to take a
cock and make love to it, or whatever I was now doing. I now had the most
beautiful thing in my mouth and in minutes, I was going to see or eat his
cum as he showed me his most private thing. My mind reeled with the fact
that this could be for the rest of my life.

I gently mouthed against him and again I tasted him wanting to know if this
was to be the cock that was mine for ever, that this was the body that
would be mine anytime I wanted it. I kept on going back to whether this was
lust for this body or whether Derry was the person I had fallen in love
with.

As my mouth slipped over his head and started to suck on it, I ran through
what Derry was. He wasn't super intelligent. He was kind. I love the way he
smelt and the taste of his mouth. He was innocent, like me, and he had
changed his life with the birth of his son, something like how my life had
altered when a truck had crushed my car.

He wasn't after my money. He worked like I did, only with his muscles. My
hand pulled back on his foreskin and his shaft blew itself up to its
extremes. The sack tightened so I held it down to help him, just like he
had helped me.

My thoughts went to what I remembered of the night before, when Derry had
tried to be free of the two girls as he had walked down the street towards
me. My lips took in every ripple, every bump on his shaft, as my tongue
played again the hard head of my lover.

I took in, in what seemed like the clearest of clear recollections, of how
Derry had been so glad to see me and then sit so close in the
nightclub. What stuck in my mind were the very feint hairs on his cheek
against mine as he had offered me the bottle of beer.

All my thinking stopped as he tensed in my mouth. My hands grasped at his
testicles and my grip with my mouth was only on the plum of his head. The
first spurt hit the roof of my mouth, really really warm, almost hot.

There was a salty taste, fluids that were thick and thin. It was juicy and
it stuck to my tongue. The next spurts were bigger, just pumping through
the slit with big dollops every part of a second. I swallowed the lot.

My intensity was broken by hands on my shoulders and my eyes went to the
huge bumps that were Derry's abs, all concentrated together through his
pushing himself to hold my head and shoulder.

`Fuck it, just finish it!', cried Derry.

My lips went back to the redness and with my hand I pumped him a couple of
times so that his cum kept flowing into my mouth, gathering at the front,
next to my teeth. Derry curled himself over me, cradling me very gently.

`Thanks', he whispered, `Was it what you expected?'

Pushing upwards, I let Derry fall onto his side. I moved myself next to him
so that our flaccid cocks compressed into each other, as did our bellies
and our lips were just an inch apart.

`It was just what I wanted', I whispered.

`Am I what you want?', asked Derry, his voice really feint.

`You are exactly what I want. If you love me, you really love me, then my
life is going to be perfect', I said, tears pouring from my eyes in an
instant.

`I'm no brainy guy. I'm not funny. I don't think I'm handsome', said Derry,
as he started to weep like me, `But I am so fucked up over you. Its just
made me go stupid.'

`You are so beautiful. I even love your little belly', I laughed, blowing
my belly out into his, ` I love who you are and nothing I can think of
would make me ever not ^Ö unless you ran off with one of those girls and
burnt down my house!'

`I don't have the brains to do any of that', said Derry between blubs, `I
just have this big ache everywhere.'

`I've got that', I added

`I've never fancied anyone as much as I have you', he went on, `I'm like a
normal guy who should be tipping a ton of beer down my neck and instead I
am drinking spunk.'

`I've got scars and I stand funny', I said, interrupting him.

`You don't stand funny and you don't have scars. You don't treat me like
shit, making me think I am thick', were Derry's last words before his mouth
and mine started a kiss that went on for so long, I was breathless when it
finished.

Derry pulled me up off the bed and into the shower, his left arm wrapped
firmly round my shoulder, his right hand just gently touching my side. The
clock said just after 11.30 so we had been making out with each other for
nearly two hours.

My shower isn't big but I had made sure that the shower head was large and
the water power high. The shower wasn't cramped, just the right size so
that we were close together as firstly we stood and drenched ourselves. He
put his arms over my shoulders. That pulled our mouths and our bodies
together, two cocks that were not soft anymore and two bodies which soon
smelt no more. The kiss was perfect for making me want Derry more and this
time I started first.

I picked up the shampoo from the rack behind him and lathered up his
hair. Derry pushed his head into my hands. I moved to his shoulders and
then under his arms as he leant over and supported himself arms
outstretched and hands above his head as I cleaned him and felt him, my
hands lingering on his chest and casually brushing and feeling his soft
nipples. I turned him round.

Washing his back made me erect so that my rod kept on brushing into his
arse. He turned round and looked down then back up and smiled as I worked
soap into his lower back. Before I went to his buttocks, I looked down and
studied them.

What might happen with our love making, and I never thought about it as
sex, this was a part of a man that I hadn't contemplated. His bum was wide
and more flabby to my touch, although his glutes were there, well
pronounced and hard as rock when he clenched them together. The crack was
probably the most hairy part of his bottom, although the hair only started
as his body moved in to his hole. My hands slipped into the darkness.

Derry did not flinch. My fingers slipped in further, till they reached
where they could not go any further.  The hair was slightly tangled. I
pushed further down and knew when I touched him there not just by his
reaction, tensing for a split second before relaxing, as I ran the ends of
a couple of fingers around his hole. My hands soon were working into the
flesh at the sides before one slipped further down to feel the start of his
root, proud and firm and leading me on to his balls, the cue for him to
turn round.

With Derry's forehead leaning into mine, I could see him watching me as put
my soapy fingers into his pubes and then wrapped them round his cock and
balls, playing, pulling firmly to make him really stiff and upright like a
soldier. God how I enjoyed it. Derry did not let me pull his foreskin right
back though. I went up and down each leg as best I could with the cramped
space we were in.

Nothing was said as Derry pushed me back into the wall of the shower and
started on me. He was more careful that I thought he would have been,
keeping the soap from my eyes with his other hand. His hands stayed on my
face over and above washing me. It was as if he wanted to touch me as
gently as he could.

He worked my front in a way that was almost sweet. It was so smooth as he
swept his hands across my abs and then up my sides then back from under my
arms to my chest. He worked my muscles until I let them relax.

Kneeling down, I could feel the extra splash on my cock from water bouncing
off his head and his breath was there against my balls. He worked down
firstly, again making my legs relax with smoothing strokes, before going
under and up to my arse. I could not help but think the thoughts that had
been there just a few minutes before about touching him there.

He was even more gentle now and with the edge of his hand, his brushes
against my root hardened my to solid. When he did move to my shaft and had
to brace myself against the back wall to stop my body from juddering too
much.

Derry stood up and moved to my side, moving his hand onto my rod. I
followed his hand with mine onto his shaft and slowly at first, we worked
up soap and pulled back each other's foreskins as far as they would go to
show our completely proud cock heads. It was as if we trying to reciprocate
the pleasure we were giving each other, each glans sensitised so much and
yet wanting much more caressing until it triggered our orgasms. Each ridge
was just that hard and too smooth.

His arm went over my shoulder as it came time for us to cum. Our bodies
tensed at just about the same time but I came first, flooding spunk over
his hand. He pulled my shaft next to his so that the last of my cum covered
his cock head. I put my hand back on the redness and worked him hard and
fast so that he had to lean into me when his white sticky sperm flooded out
of the end, this time drenching my pubes and his. I loved it as his body
banged into mine with each jolt from his shaft. We both took a long time to
deflate, and we were still partly bloated when the hot water ran out. We
had managed to get the matted strands of jism from our pubes.

If there were things about being gay that I still had to reckon with,
notably how my arse was going to be part of my love life. The other thing
was when I need to go for a slash after the shower and Derry joined me as
we peed into the toilet. He noticed my reticence.

`When I went down on you, when we first went to bed', he said, his hand
back on my shoulder to sort of comfort me, `I had this horrible thing in my
mind that you piss out of my new cock.'

`Have you thought about arse stuff?', I asked, meekly.

`Yep', replied Derry, `If this is going to carry on, then we should find
out about it. I did really like it when you were the one who washed me back
there. I wasn't going anywhere near yours without you telling me to do so.'

I smiled and put my cheek against his.

`You don't want to carry on?', I whispered in his ear.

`But I thought we needed to talk about what else we use these fat cocks
for', laughed Derry.

`I think that's part of all of us', I replied. `I need to know though what
arse stuff involves.'

`My cousin, he fucks them up the fanny and then the brown. The girls hate
him for that', said Derry.

I pushed my head back from him, still kept in his embrace.

`I don't think that this stuff is really turning me on. I want to get back
into bed, and I don't want to go to sleep.'

Derry kissed me on the nose. He stared into my eyes.

`You'd better come with me then', he said in his softest voice. He flicked
off the bedroom lights as we walked to the bed.

When we sat on the bed, Derry pulled at the edge of the duvet that was
poking up from the floor and gathered it around us. He guided me to the
middle of the bed and arranged the cover again so that with him using a
knee to hold my legs in as we lay on our sides looking at each other.

I gently brushed his chest and one of the soft nipples. Derry moved his
hand up caress my face. This time we kissed with breaks between each snog,
time when we looked at each other, just smiling away. Slowly we started to
use more tongue and each took the other's head in their hands so that it
was more passionate, and more as it became very frenzied.

I followed Derry as he pushed himself up onto his knees. My bed was stiff
enough that we could waddle forward with our chests proud until they banged
into each other. Our thighs were spread so our cocks, as hard as ever,
stuck out and fought with each other, our swords. Our balls hung down as
much as they could because with each brush of shaft against shaft, mine
tightened as his did.

This was sex with passion as my hands roamed all over Derry and his just
touched me in the same way. I could see the hairs on his arms standing up
in the gloom and it certainly wasn't cold as we were both sweating, glowing
all over.

His hand just cupped my sack for a second, second waves of something into
my brain so that I could not see even in the feint shadows. It was really
dark, no moonlight at all to come through the crack in the curtain. My head
was spinning. I could not even think about coming despite how hard I was,
all over my body.

Derry knocked me over, so that I was flat on my back. He jumped himself
over me, with his mouth above my cock. I could see his white fat shaft even
in the gloom. When he started licking my balls, I had to strain my neck to
reach to him, to his eggs and his sack, and as they were still a bit
droopy, I was teasing them away from his body so he let his legs move back
enabling me to work my mouth all over his groin.

I stopped for a moment to push my hair into his pubes and to smell him
freshly washed. He had his own odour even after soap and spunk. It was
something that I was in love with, actually besotted by after just a few
hours of being with him, skin to skin, after a week of him walking into my
life.

I didn't think of anything as his fat rod was in my mouth, as I pulled his
foreskin tight and made his peach as red as it could go. His balls were in
my mouth again and again. I soon knew every fold of his skin, every part of
his balls themselves. His glans fitted my mouth perfectly as I pumped my
mouth and my lips up and down. I did not know when he was going to fill me
with spunk and had forgotten about my own orgasm, even as my hips bucked as
he did the same to my cock.

When it came, we were on our sides, our bodies completely intertwined and
covered in sweat. My lovers' jism had become the one drink for my mouth. He
gave me lots of his sticky sperm, in five or six big lumps. It was mine to
taste and to swallow.

`Fuck me!', laughed Derry as he slowly laid himself next to me, `You should
ask the Water Board to licence the spunk you produce. I thought I did a
lot!'

`I feel dizzy, not like any normal time I've just cum. My groin, not my
balls and cock, just the rest of me, they are so hot, so warm', I replied,
pushing my arms away along the bed.

Derry slid himself into my body. He had with him the duvet and I woke nine
hours later with Derry still in my arms. My nose was next to his cheek, his
curls pushing their way into my left eye. My hand was grasping the softest
skin and a nipple. It was perfect.





Life goes on.

That Sunday we got out of bed just after lunch having feasted on each other
twice more, love made in the morning sunlight flooding through the window
which made seeing him completely naked and all mine an even bigger thrill.

I made lunch naked with Derry the same, helping me in his own way. Before
we sat down, he grabbed me by the arms.

`Look what you have done to my willy!', he said, trying to be matter of
fact. He was shaking very gently

His shaft was flaccid, maybe a little bit longer than the two times I had
seen it in the week before. His head was definitely bigger and now covered
by the stretched flap of his foreskin. It was tight at its opening, very
pink, then went out like a hug oversized coat

`Looks like its been used a bit!', I replied.

`I know that this has been the best night of my life, but after lunch I
need to get back home', said Derry, a single tear running down his cheek.

`I think I said something last night', I said.

`I will be here on Monday morning, eight sharp', rattled Derry, as if he
had forgotten what I said a few hour before

`I don't want there to be a night I don't go to bed with you. I don't want
a morning when you aren't there when I wake up. I want you to move in', I
replied.

`You do?', sobbed Derry, his grin as wide as it could be, his eyes trying
to be open.

`Yep. I want you here this afternoon, this evening, tonight', I went on.

Derry was just lying his head on my shoulder. His eyes were streaming tears
as he put his hand on the middle of my back, a touch that seemed like he
didn't want to make it.

`I need to tell my Mum something', he whispered.

`Just tell her the truth. That's what I am going to tell my Mum and Dad', I
replied, turning myself round so that we started touching each other's
legs, `I do love you Derry, I love you properly.'

I was starting to feel tearful myself.

`I just don't believe that this is happening to me', wept Derry, `I'm a
bloke. I am supposed to shag women^Å.;

I pushed his hair back from his face. He took a deep breath.

`I have tried to love girls. I have fucking tried but I have just never
felt like this!' he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

`You've got that feeling in your guts?', I replied.

`Sorry', he whispered as he pulled into my embrace. His hips were
shuddering along with the whole of his body.

I felt the hotness on my leg and look down, pushing us apart a couple of
inches. His shaft was half full and his foreskin was pushed open by floods
of his spunk. I pulled him back into me and clenched his head to mine.

`Just let it out Derry, let it out!', I said straight into his ear,
thinking of the mess I had made of my pants two days before, on the outside
gallery of the nightclub, when Derry had sat down next to me. Some jizz
dropped onto the floor. We laughed and went up to shower and get dressed.



Derry ended up in my best shorts, the only ones which would fit him, and a
tank top for the visit to his mothers. He was terribly nervous on the
journey and walking down the little path to the front door. I think I made
things very easy by putting my hand on his shoulder as the front door
opened and his mother's initial frown turned quickly to a smile.

He sat on his father's old chair as he told his mother that I had asked him
to move in with me. She looked more often at me than Derry, always smiling
and offering more biscuits. She also offered the excuse that if Derry was
leaving, then when his sister came back from University, Derry's room would
be hers for as long as Derry stayed away.

We stuffed my Mini as full as it could go with clothes, shoes and a few
personal possessions but Derry was quick to say he didn't have much. Back
at our home, I helped Derry upstairs with everything then left him to move
anything of mine he wanted to, to make room for his stuff.

I rang my mother and told her about Derry, in a far less direct way than
Derry had been with his parent. Twenty minutes later she was at my front
door, with two plates of Sunday roast for my microwave. Derry came down
from the bedroom when he heard another voice in the house and his standing
next to me, inserting his hand into mine was his way of showing my mother
who he was. She left quickly but she did kiss me on the cheek for a couple
of seconds on her way out. It was a mother's kiss of approval

That dinner was followed by the evening in bed, making love again and
again, with hands and mouths and bodies. We slept about midnight.

The next day, the Monday, Derry was up before me. He made me breakfast for
when I followed him downstairs and was out working by 8 am. I had him on
the kitchen table for lunch and we blew each other off that evening in the
dust of finishing off one of the walls in the lounge. I took him shopping
that evening for some more clothes, notably some rainwear for working in
when the summer did go wet.

The next day it was really hot and we went back to just wearing shorts all
day and every day. A client who came to see me actually made me think to
put on a vest before they arrived just to look half respectable and she was
besotted with Derry after a `business lunch' that he made so that we could
keep on working at the kitchen table. The result was five thousand pounds
of business which meant when she left, we made out on the kitchen table and
broke it in celebration. I hoped no-one had come round whilst Derry crushed
me flat onto the wood in the best `quickie' I had ever had.

I made him finish early that evening and we went out to buy first a sofa,
then a pick-up truck for him. He was shirtless in the furniture store and
he ripped my vest off my back before we made the van salesman's evening by
spending more money. We just walked round the car lot with Derry's arm over
my shoulder, no other touch apart from that but what Derry wanted us to be
was happy with us being comfortable in front of people.

Whilst I cooked that night, he went out shopping in my Mini and came back
with a book on gay sex. We added fingers in places to another hour in the
shower before eating about 10 at night.

The sofa came the next day so after he had worked like nothing I had ever
seen, we did more when we covered it in sweat and jism before eating proper
food. I told him he was getting thin as his slightly fat bottom waddled
away to get some water to drink and he nearly collapsed. He was exhausted
and he slept till nine next morning.

His pick-up arrived on the Friday and we spent all afternoon driving around
in it picking up things for the garden and the house. The suspension
creaked on the way back there was that much stuff in the back.

Saturday was starting our family. Neither of us could wait until it was
time to go and pick up Sammy. I didn't think about wearing anything other
than my best shorts on what was a scorching hot day and to walk down the
long drive to the farm, holding hands with Derry was perfect.

We had coffee with the breeder, her husband and one of her sons, who kept
on looking at both of us in a suspicious way, tainted with sarcasm. Sammy
just slept on Derry's lap, and did so all the way back to her new home.

That afternoon was more perfection, me and Derry sitting on the edge of the
bomb site that my garden had become after Sammy had started to explore
it. She took time to settle and stay in the kitchen that night and on the
sofa, she put herself between us, making horrible noise if we tried to be
intimate in any sort of way.

Sammy grew as quickly as the garden and my house was finished. My love for
Derry and his for me kept growing just as much. By mid Summer, I had
designed him some flyers and helped in deliver them all over the area. The
result was twenty or so contracts for everything from maintenance, swimming
pool cleaning and some building, enough work for him to work eight till
five, five days a week, all the jobs tied up for at least a year. He also
started to stick some good money in his bank account.

That meant Derry was away for most days of the week. Me and Sammy pined for
him and when he did manage to nip back into the house for a break, I could
not get to him for Sammy pawing him.

We started to take Sammy out onto the common and the hill on the edge of
the village. Whilst we didn't make our affection `in your face', we did
have arms around each others shoulders when we were together.

Derry often had to go and help Sammy escape from streams or bushes she
would fall into and would run with her whilst I stayed on the
tracks. Whenever he came back, he would always drape himself over me. Most
of the Summer we were bare chested so the kids and the thugs who were also
there soon started to come over to find out if what they saw was real

They didn't taunt us, even from the first time they tried to talk to
us. Instead we quickly became `their gays'. I was nick-named `Muscles'
whilst Derry was `the cute one', with his dimples and his curls. Derry was
more popular with the boys, me with the girls. They asked some really
personal questions which for anyone who was young, both of us joked about
but never answered.

For the older ones, Derry started being a bit more truthful and I followed
his example. There was one girl who talked about her brother being
interested in men. She said she would get him along because we weren't like
all the other gay people that were either on the TV or portrayed in
programmes. A young guy of maybe 18 did follow us the week after, for a
couple of our walks. He never came over to talk to us.

We did find out about fucking each other, by about that time. We were very
thorough in how we prepared and from Day 1 we did it bareback. I fucked
Derry first and it was great. It was more difficult when he first fucked
me. His size wasn't a problem. It was just that I wasn't flexible so that
to do it without me having to be stretched around and about, there were
only a couple of positions that were easy.

We didn't start fucking each other regularly. We liked all the other ways
of making love more and as for how regular we were, I remember Derry
telling me that in November we had broken our record of fifty and my cock
knew it. A month later, on Christmas Eve night, I think it was the best of
the past seven months.

We had arranged to have both our parents over, with Derry's two sisters and
my brother and his family, for Christmas Day lunch. Derry had built a big
enough dining table and two benches and done shopping whilst I was left to
prepare all the vegetables and the ingredients for the starters, puddings
and tea. He then cooked for three hours before I took him to bed.

He had said he wanted me to fuck him as his Christmas present and I
did. When I slid into him that night, it was the best ever. Derry always
liked it with his hips propped up and he lying back with his body
outstretched. That was how he let me put my hardest erection into him. This
night he was there in all his glory. He was wide, he was soft, and he was
still nutty brown with a tan.

I slid into him with his legs round my waist or held by my arms, his leg
hairs distracting me as they rubbed over my sides. I could play with his
sack as his hips spread with every penetration. From early on he started to
cum, his jism spewing out over his belly which fluttered with his
orgasms. As the sensations continued, he started to arch his back to drive
himself onto my rod. It was power love as he just worked into my hips with
his. The sights, the smell and the feel simply blew my mind before my
balls.

Underneath me, at the end, my final penetrations and pushes made him burst
into tears. He cried and screamed in ecstasy as I screwed him till I could
not hold back with everything I had.


His first present to me was a gold necklace which he pulled from under his
pillow the next morning. He gave me a scarf and gloves mid morning from a
hiding place under the kitchen sink and under the Christmas Tree, amongst
the fifty or more other presents we had bought for our guests, were some
more shorts, a cycle helmet, and a couple of books that I wanted.

Derry had asked me for nothing other than my cock. He didn't get his
way. What he did get, in front of everyone, was a Paul Smith suit for which
I got a snog in front of the families, Derry's mother starting the clapping
as soon as our lips touched so that she could tell everyone there that our
relationship was fine by her.


By ten that night, everyone had gone and we had been kissed by all the
women, and by my brother. My Dad was genuine with his handshake, especially
to Derry.

Sammy was playing in the kitchen when Derry took me to bed. I left him
getting undressed in the bedroom whilst I prepared for him to fuck me. When
I was ready, I stood by the closed bathroom door and looked down at my
cock. It had been growing all through the Summer, probably from over
use. My body was warm and I felt so content bar the ache in my groin which
was going to be trebled in the next few minutes.

Over the next half an hour my best Christmas was made even better as Derry
slid himself into me with my body spooned in his and so slowly, he simply
fucked my brains out. His shaft inside of me seemed like it was a perfect
fit, making my hips complete. He just joined himself into me as he slid his
rod into my guts. Even his thrusts before he came were simply long and
smooth. We talked about love for about five minutes after until we fell
asleep.


The pub isn't part of our lives. We don't associate with any other gay
people although apparently we are talked about especially in town. All this
doesn't mean we don't have a social life.

Derry plays football on a Sunday morning all through the Winter. He has
brought a couple of old girlfriends into our lives and we go to their
parties which are usually house parties with hundreds of people cramming
into a flat. Everyone talks to us really normally and we can dance together
although neither of us is any good.

There was one stand off between me and Derry's cousin Patrick, I think I
remember at the second one we ever went to, on Valentine's Day. Derry
sorted that out, as I was really drunk, with the help of most of the men
there because Patrick lost all control.

My friends usually have a sort of dinner party and we are really popular at
those. Both the women and the men often tell the both of us how jealous
they are, of what I don't know. That was the case when we went on a
cruising holiday for two weeks on a yacht, round the Greek Islands.

I don't think they knew anything until the second day when we came out of
the water having swum to a beach from the yacht for lunch with the rest of
the guests. We were arms on shoulders and we gently petted each other,
having forgotten about everyone else and been so into each other that we
had swum really slowly so that we were last to arrive.

We ended up always going to dinner at exactly the same time because we
always became surrounded as soon as we walked into a restaurant or to the
galley and were separated for the whole evening if we went up individually.
It was guys as well as girls who were caught listening at our cabin door
and we hated the `love gods' nickname we were given.

The last day of the holiday we sat me inside his legs round a bar-be-cue
fire with all the other guests as the sun started to go down on a deserted
beach. Everyone was just talking as they stared at us and even when I
stared back, no eye left us, especially when Derry started to smooth his
hands up and down my body.

The best was when we were asked to go to the wedding of one of Derry's
cousins, in Ireland. They treated us like royalty and we ended up staying
with an aunt, probably in her 70s, who gave us a four poster bed, the
softest thing I had ever slept in. We had to go and talk at a youth club on
the day before the wedding, about being gay, but then at the wedding we had
to dance and if we stopped, we were grabbed by everyone and anyone. They
even made us be in a photo, just us two with the Bride and Groom. The
dancing was fine as well as Derry gave me lessons in the jigs and reels
that we partnered each other for, and seemingly every woman who came to the
reception. At the end of the evening, no-one looked long when we snogged
each other.

Its over a year since Derry walked into my life. We have just had his son
over for the morning and the little boy has gone home covered in sand from
playing all day in the sand-pit Derry has built for him.

Its late in the afternoon. We are wet through. I am lying naked on the
bench next to our swimming pool which Derry finished in the Spring. I am
lying with my head in his lap and his shaft is right next to my cheek, my
favourite toy which I know every skin cell of. He is reading but I know
that in a few minutes we will go inside and we probably will make love to
each other for the rest of the evening. It is love and we do so probably
ten times a week and if anyone doubts our passion or our commitment then
they are fools. We are two men, in love, with no hang-ups or agendas.

Its simple love, the simplest, and its true. Every morning I wake and every
night I go to bed I am so happy I just can't describe it. Its called love.


Copyright 2006 DT.  All Rights Reserved.