Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2023 17:35:07 -0400
From: Rufus Jones <jonesrufus64@gmail.com>
Subject: To Places Unknown 3

To Places Unknown 3
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The next few days were busy as we prepared to arrive in Southampton. We had
a few double shifts and barely had time to eat and the rest of the time we
were asleep. I was glad of this since it took my mind off various trains of
thought that beckoned me down paths I was afraid to travel.

Once we arrived and the dock hands took over unloading, we were free for
three days before we had to return to New York. We stood on the dock trying
to decide what to do. Greg looked at me, his face surprised.

"Well, obviously we're going to London. Like where else would we go?"

I knew he was right. "Yeah. Where else? Let's get a train."

I loved English trains: they're so civilized compared to what we have in
North America. They seem to have figured it out in a way that we probably
never will.

After about an hour, we arrived at Waterloo station which at that time of
day was chaos. That seemed familiar at least, since it felt like New
York. We agreed that we would find some lunch first, then decide on how to
spend our three days. I warned Greg that everything is expensive, including
lunch, so we found a cheap takeaway and had kebabs.

The next problem was to find a place to sleep. The last time I was there, I
stayed in a ratty little hotel that didn't charge a fortune and luckily it
was still there and still cheap. What I hadn't thought through was the fact
that we would be sharing a room. Actually, a bed. We couldn't afford two
rooms and none of them had two beds. I inwardly gulped, but went along with
it. I would think about that later and as we left the hotel and entered the
vast, ancient city, I soon forgot about it.

We spent the day like tourists, which we were. The Tower, The British
Museum, Westminster Abbey. You know, the usual stuff that hordes of people
the world over come to see. When we finally had had enough, we found a pub
near the British Museum that probably started serving beer centuries ago.

Greg was in a mood and we tried a number of different beer on tap: dark,
light and everything in between. I was a bit drunk and despite the mass of
fish and chips I wolfed down, stayed that way. Greg seemed to have a higher
tolerance than I did so he took it upon himself to take care of me as I
weaved down the street to the hotel afterward.

I collapsed on the bed as soon as we got in the room and felt the room
spinning a little. I sat up, trying not to feel sick. "I don't feel that
great...let's watch TV for a while..."

Greg laughed, "You are a cheap drunk!" But he turned to the TV on a we
stared at some stupid game show for a while. He was lying beside me on the
bed and at first I didn't really notice, but after a while, I became aware
of the warmth of him. His arm was close to mine and our feet were almost
touching. Soon it was all I was aware of. I sat up and went to the bathroom
to clear my head and calm myself. When I came out of the washroom, Greg had
taken off his shirt and was fiddling with the remote on the TV. Then he
tossed it on the table beside the bed. "Stupid thing. There isn't even any
porn. What kind of a hotel is this?"

What surprised me was it had never occurred to me to watch porn when I
stayed at hotels. I was really getting the sense that I was had avoided all
kinds of things. I flopped down beside him with a sigh. I closed my eyes
and enjoyed being still. At least the room had stopped spinning. Greg's
voice pulled me out of my haze.

"Let's jerk off! There's nothing else to do."

Again I was amazed at his almost impossible lack of self-consciousness. I
opened my eyes and he was already pulling his pants down. He turned to
me. "Come on...it's more fun with two."

We had done this before, but this felt different. We were in the same bed
and so close together we could almost touch. But since I was relatively
numb, I shrugged and undid my fly and slid my pants down. I pulled my
underwear down and again I was already hard. I didn't even realize it until
I saw it. I just lay there looking at my cock.

"Don't just admire it..." and Greg laughed.

I took my cock in my hand and gave it a few strokes. I turned to him, "You
have any...?"

"Oh right. He leaned over the side of the bed and produced the little
bottle. He opened it and squirted lube all over the head of my cock and
then, to my utter amazement, used his other hand to spread it around. His
hand was on my cock. My mind kind of exploded at the sensation of another
person touching me. Touching me there. I just looked at his hand on my
cock.

Then he let go and settled back against his pillow, smoothing his own dick
and sighing. "Nice. Doesn't that feel great?"

I was silent, but I started slowly stroking myself, trying to watch him
doing the same thing. We were silent for a while and there was just the wet
sound of our hands sliding on our cocks. Then he said, "You wanna tell
stories?"

I looked over at him. "Um...sure?"

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm a little drunk..."

"Yeah, I can see that!" And he laughed. Then he did something that shocked
me again. With his left hand he grabbed my right and pulled it over and put
it on his cock. "Take over, will you? It's more fun." Then he reached over
and grabbed mine and starting pumping it at first gently, then with more
energy. My mind was empty and all I could be aware of was the feeling of
his hand on me. I closed my eyes for a moment. I heard his voice again,
"You can do the same on mine..."

I opened my eyes, suddenly guilty. I slid my hand on him, amazed that this
was even happening. His cock was a little thicker than mine and I was
really aware of the difference. But it was hard to concentrate on what I
was doing because the feeling in my own cock had taken over my body. I
managed to keep pumping his and I realized it felt good to hear him start
to moan a little under his breath. He looked at me and smiled. "Really
nice, huh?"

I had to agree but I didn't say anything. I just smiled a little and kept
going. The feelings in my cock that spread up my belly were becoming so
intense I imagined I was levitating off the bed. I managed to keep my grip
on his cock, but only just. I looked over at him again and his eyes were
closed and his mouth was, as seemed to be usual, open. His tongue was at
the corner of his mouth.

He seemed to realize I was close and his hand sped up on me, stroking the
whole length of me. Every few strokes he would run his index finger over
the head of my cock, collecting the stream of precum and adding to the
slippery feeling. I could feel a rush of energy on my skin and I knew that
my dam was going to burst. I choked and gasped.

"You close? Don't hold back."

As if I had a choice. My body had taken over and I shut my eyes tightly as
my cock exploded. I could feel cum hit my stomach as he continued to slide
his hand on me. I felt like my whole body was emptying itself on my
chest. When the explosion finally faded I opened my eyes. Greg was still
holding my cock, gently caressing the head. There was a thick stream of cum
all over his fingers. Looking at me, he removed his hand and brought it to
his mouth where he slurped my cum from his fingers.

I was so stunned by my orgasm, no part of my brain was working well enough
to interpret that. I realized I was still holding his thickness in my hand
and I suddenly felt guilty, so I resumed sliding my fist up and down. The
glow from coming made me light-headed, but I tried to concentrate on him. I
looked into his face. "Are you close?"

"Oh yeah," and he threw his head back. "Really close."

I sped up a little and leaned toward him for better traction and as I did
he grabbed my arm and gasped just as cum spurted out onto his stomach in
few sloppy bursts, then poured out all over my moving hand, drooling down
onto him stomach. After a moment things seem to subside and his grip on my
arm relaxed. He leaned back against the pillow and sighed.

"That was awesome! Thanks so much."

I looked down at my hand on his cock, feeling self-conscious. My fingers
were coated in cum and as I pulled back I wondered where to wipe it off. To
my amazement, he grabbed my hand and brought it to his mouth, cleaning if
off the same way he had done to his. "I hope you don't mind...I like the
taste. What can I say?" And he chuckled, smacking his lips.

We lay there for a few minutes, not talking. Part of my mind had started to
work and was beginning to ask questions. But the state of calm I found
myself in after coming so hard made it difficult for me take the chorus of
voices very seriously. I felt really good. That was the most obvious aspect
of that moment. Not just because my body was relaxed, but because of the
warmth of his beside me. I felt safe. That was not a concept I would have
associated with mutually jerking off with someone. But there you go.

I got up to use the bathroom and when I came back, he was under the covers
with his back to me. I heard his voice say, "I gotta sleep."

"Me, too. Good night."

"Night, Stu."

I lay on my back, not quite ready to sleep. I realized I felt too good. I
wanted to savour it, so I lay listening to his breathing and the sound of
cars on the street below.


When I awoke, light was pouring into the room and onto the bed. It was warm
and I could tell the morning in this vast city had started because the
sound of traffic was intense. I also realized that Greg was lying on his
stomach and one of his arms was lying on my chest.

For a moment I panicked. Then, as I realized the earth wasn't opening up to
swallow me, it felt kind of...nice. Like most things that Greg did, this
moment was uncomplicated. Even if he was asleep, it was very Greg.

But I had to pee, so I slid out from under his arm and sat on the edge of
the bed for a moment. I heard his voice behind me.

"So what's the plan for today?"

"Well...we could check out the London Eye...maybe take a boat tour on the
river?" I realized I wasn't sure.

"The London Eye?"

"Oh, it's just a big Ferris wheel. I don't know why they call it that."

"Sounds good. Let's eat first. I'm starved."

We found breakfast and put our tourist hats back on.

Throughout the day as we visited old houses, big churches, sat in Hyde Park
and watched the pigeons, but part of my mind was busy trying to process
what the previous evening had been like. And I don't mean the drinking. We
had jerked each other off. But as I sat there, admiring the trees, a memory
appeared -- like the other ones -- seemingly from nowhere. As if my mind
had squirrelled it away somewhere waiting for the right opportunity.

Again, it was simple. My brother and I shared a bedroom at one point in our
teens because we had to leave a bigger apartment when my dad lost his
job. I remember waking up one night to a now-familiar sound: my brother
jerking off. I remember looking over at his bed and watching him stroke his
cock and pour cum all over his thin, adolescent stomach. That was all.

Why hadn't I remembered that before? The part of that memory, however, that
counted, was the fact that I do remember my own cock rigid as I lay there
watching him. That was the part that I almost didn't want to be part of the
memory. But there it was.

Later in the afternoon, as we strolled down a busy street in Piccadilly I
suddenly remembered. "Hey, we need to stock up on lube." I suddenly felt
foolish, like an eager adolescent on his first day in the big city.

But Greg nodded. "You're right, we do." We began to look for a drug store
or something, and finally found a Boots that seemed to have a good
selection. I stood in front of the shelf until I saw the one I usually
bought for myself. When Greg saw what I selected, he said, "Naw. We can do
better than that. Let's try this one. It's more expensive, but I bet it
feels really nice. That other stuff is only for emergencies." So we spent a
small fortune on lube, but I realized I was excited.

We had a nicer dinner, splurging a bit and even had some wine, which I
never drink. I'm not a big drinker and nor is my brother. We had watched
our father drink himself into a stupor or a blind rage too many times to
ever want to do that. I can get drunk, as I did the previous night, but I
never let it get too far.

Greg seemed...jovial. Is that the word? He was joking and talking excitedly
about what we had seen and how much money we had spent. I warned
him. London is not for people without money. We finished our wine and had
some dessert then wandered into the streets to stroll around.

Eventually we made it back to the hotel. We had to leave the following
afternoon so we planned what we would do in the time we had left.

I had a shower and when I emerged from the bathroom, Greg was already in
bed. I suddenly felt self-conscious as I had nothing on but a towel, but I
realized that given what we had done the night before, it didn't really
matter what I was wearing or not, in this case. So I threw the towel on the
floor and climbed into bed.

I was settling my head into the pillow, wondering what might happen, when
Greg sat up, a little grin on his face. "So...you want to jerk off?"

The pure honesty of how he expressed what he wanted kind of amazed me. As
always, a rush of discomfort ran up my spine and I struggled to say
something, just looking at him.

His smile grew a little wider. "Why don't we try something different?" He
sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed, his legs spread. This
position seemed to draw my eye directly to his cock which was hard, and his
balls rested on the bed between his legs. He pointed to the bed in front of
him. "Sit facing me."

I was still stuck in the same position, but I realized I couldn't just sit
there much longer. I slid out from the sheet and sat facing him but I had
to slide my legs under his to make it work. Part of me was aware that I
liked the feel of his legs on mine. I looked up into his eyes which were
glinting. He had already poured lube on himself, and he handed me the
bootle. I was beginning to get used to this and I squeezed the liquid onto
my cock which was, as usual, rigid in my hand.

I put the lube aside and realized I wasn't sure what to do next. He was
stroking his cock very slowly, and he was gazing at his prick as if he
hadn't seen it before. I did the same and we stayed like this for a few
minutes, the only sound was the sticky sound of our flesh.

Then he looked up at me. "Slide in closer." I wasn't sure what he meant and
I hesitated. He raised his eyebrows, then said "Like this." And he slid
forward so his body was closer and his thighs were on top of mine. I
followed suit and I pulled myself closer to him so that our balls were
almost in contact. I could feel the heat coming off him, the musky smell of
his body filling my head.

His legs were slightly raised to get over mine and it caused him to be
sitting at an awkward angle. All of a sudden he pulled his legs back and
got on his knees. "Here, get on your knees like this."

By this point, I was feeling waves of electricity that started in the head
of my streaming cock that spread though my balls to my belly and beyond and
my brain had stopped working very well so I just complied. Deep in some
corner of my mind a little voice was trying to ask what the fuck I was
doing, but it was a quiet voice.

We were kneeling face to face, quite close together. I could feel his
breath. He reached down between us and before I could protest, he gripped
my cock and pulled it toward his so they were resting together. I could
feel the hair at the base of his cock tickling mine. He gripped both of us
firmly, then started to slide his hand up and down a few times, still
holding us both.

The sensation of his hand on my cock was one thing -- amazing -- but it was
also the white hot intensity of the head of his dick, and the cleft
underneath sliding against mine that shut my eyes and opened my
mouth. "Fuck...." I gasped.

"Nice, huh?"

I couldn't answer. He kept stroking us both together and as he did this, he
was very slowly thrusting forward so that there was double movement of the
length of his cock sliding up and down against mine while his hand massaged
the outside of both of ours. The feeling was almost overwhelming and I
choked finally, "Slow down...it's...intense..."

He almost stopped and I opened my eyes and he was staring at me. His eyes
were very blue (are they?). "You ok?"

"Oh...I'm ok. I just need to rest for a minute..."

I realized I had stopped questioning what this was we were doing, or what
it meant. I just knew that wanted him to continue stroking us. I also
realized I had put my hand on his shoulder to maintain my balance. I
wondered what he thought of the contact. But then again, he had his hand on
my cock.

He had slowly begun to push his hips forward, sliding his dick against
mine. He kept his hand still. I looked down and watched the movement of his
rigid cock against mine. We were both streaming precum that mixed together
as our cocks slid against each other. As I stared down at us, I felt his
head come into contact with mine. We were leaning against each other
watching our cocks moving.

I felt his arm wrap around my wait and pull me a little closer. Our balls
were almost in contact and I raised my head as I felt our chests almost
touch, our foreheads resting together. His hand started to move on our
cocks and a little faster, and before I could stop myself, I starting
pushing forward with my hips into his hand. I heard his voice,
"Yeah. That's it." He pushed back so that as my cock slid up, his slid
down. He was still stroking us both very slowly.

I opened my eyes and I looked directly into his for a moment. Some little
animal from who knows where within me brought my lips to his very
tentatively. He opened his mouth at the same time and we had the softest,
slowest contact. I could feel his breath in my mouth. I pulled back, as if
waiting to see what he would do. He looked at me for a long moment, his
eyes still. I realized our movements had stopped. He smiled at me, the
leaned in and kissed me again, just as softly. I felt his hand start to
slide on our cocks again.

The contact of his mouth against mine seemed to set off an explosion in me
and I had to throw my head back as a wave of the most intense pleasure I
had ever felt washed over my entire body and I could feel a geyser go off
in my cock. Cum spurted up, then splashed down on us as Greg kept up the
movement. Wave after wave of cum rose up between us and hit my chest, his
chest, and dripped down onto our cocks. He was now using my cum to keep
stroking us and then, with a low moan, his cock did the same, although more
a heavy rush that poured out onto my cock, a great liquid mess that
streamed down his hand and onto our balls, the bed, seemingly everywhere.

I had to lean back as my thighs were on fire and he did the same. We stayed
like this for a moment, then I looked down at the sticky mess all over my
cock, my thighs, dripping of my chest. I heard his voice with a little
shock. "We're a mess! Let's get a shower." And he slid off the bed and
walked into the bathroom. I heard the shower start, then he stuck his head
out and said, "You coming?"

I guess I was, so I got up and joined him. We stood under the water as it
rinsed off the cum. I watched it collect on the bottom of the tub and into
the drain. I raised my head, feeling awkward and cold.

"You all right?"

Was I all right? I wasn't sure. I felt embarrassed and wondered what he
thought of me, even though I knew what had happened was shared. But
still. "I feel a bit strange. I've never..." I couldn't find the words.

"I know." And he reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. "It's
cool. Maybe that was too much. But I really enjoyed it. Just so you
know. It's all good over here."

I was grateful for his words. They did help and I liked the feel of his arm
on me, reminding me that I wasn't alone. But I could say something. "I'm
cold."

He laughed, but reached behind him and shut off the shower. He grabbed a
towel and instead of handing it to me, he wrapped it around my shoulders. I
stepped out of the shower, shivering. I felt like I had done something
hard, like how I felt when I did my driving test as a teenager. I ran the
towel over my body in the hope that I would warm up, but it didn't help
that much. I dropped it on the floor of the bathroom and sprinted over to
the bed and, like a little kid, buried myself into the sheet and pulled the
bedspread over me. The only thing that was visible, I guess, was my head.

Greg came out of the bathroom and when he saw me, he smiled. "You were
cold, weren't you."

I just looked at him. He got into the other side and lay for a moment,
looking at the ceiling. I heard his voice again, "You all right?"

I did know this time. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just cold. But...thanks."

"For what?" He propped his head up on his arm.

"For...fuck. I'm not sure. For what we did? For being a nice guy? I don't
know..."

His answer was to pull me toward him so that my back was to him, and he
wrapped an arm around my chest, his face against the back of my neck, his
whole body in contact with mine. I felt his cock nestled at the top of my
ass.

"Is this ok?"

"Yeah. It's nice." And it was ok. That was the part that amazed me. It was
ok to be wrapped in someone's arms and feel relaxed and warm. It was ok to
just let that happen. I could feel whatever tension about the physical
contact melt away.

When I woke up, we had changed positions. I was lying against his body and
my arm was wrapped around his torso. But the only thing I was aware of was
my rock hard cock nestled in the crack of his ass and that I woke up slowly
rocking my hips forward, pressing my hardness between his flesh.

I stopped when I realized it and froze. What was I doing? I lay there, not
sure what to do, and my cock didn't get soft.

I knew we had to get up, but a big part of me wanted to stay in bed and,
despite whatever I was doing in my sleep, I didn't want this to end. I
heard his voice.

"That feels nice."

"Does it?"

"Of course it does. You were asleep I guess? But part of you was into it."

I realized he was right. "Is that...weird?" It was a stupid question. It
wasn't like I didn't know how sex worked. I knew that gay guys fucked each
other and that made sense. In the same way I knew how it worked with
straight couples. I wasn't innocent, but I had never been the one fucking,
or fucked. When it came to me being in the picture, it was like I was
fifteen again. And I suppose that was true. When I was that age, other guys
were all about trying things out with people. "Experimenting" they say in
child development speak.

But not me. Not then. For my brother and I it was all about survival and
safety. There was no space to experiment. I felt a wave of sadness for the
kid I was.

I heard Greg's voice. "No. Not weird. Like I said. It was nice. Let's get
up. We've got things to do before we catch the train." He seemed to bounce
out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

I was grateful for his ability to know when I was at the limit, when I
could easily slip over the edge into some kind of shut down. He always
seemed to get it.

We had a nice morning, and then caught the train back to Southampton. All
the way south, as I sat on the train watching farms go by, all I could
think about was how it felt when my rigid cock was nestled in the crack of
his ass. Part of me still worried I had made things awkward between us and
that he was just being nice when he said he liked it, but I knew it was
what I wanted, even asleep. It felt like a question for which I was
beginning to have the answer.