Date: Sat, 31 Oct 2015 10:09:30 +0000
From: niftyaccount27@yahoo.com
Subject: New life with Denholm-submission 7

New life with Denholm-submission 7

Dear readers, I'd like to mention a few things before I carry on with the
story.

First, I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to email me to
offer their thoughts or criticisms regarding the story. As I mentioned in
the previous chapter, this is my first piece of writing, so any tips will
be appreciated. If you wish to contact me, please do so at
niftyaccount27@yahoo.com.

My next point is that the next few submissions won't be posted as quickly
as the previous six have; I'm currently studying at university and simply
won't have the time to write, although I will try to post as many as I can.

Finally, for those wondering about the authenticity of the story, I must
say that it is entirely fiction, with the exception of the name of the main
character, James.

Again, this chapter isn't very long, but if you've been looking for an
episode to jack off over, this one is certainly the one for that.

Enjoy.

------

From chapter 6:

"Denholm this is serious. I don't know if he's okay or not, he could be in
hospital or something." I then looked down at the floor, and then back up
at denholm, noticing he'd lost his smile. "I've never done anything like
that before. I just lost it. And now I'm just as bad as your dad." I
continued, almost ranting at this point.

I then realised what I'd just said, and looked back up at Denholm who was
now looking at the wall to my left. Why the fuck did I say that? What's
wrong with me lately?

"I'm sorry," I said, quickly, "I didn't mean it like that, I'm just saying
what I did was wrong, and I'm not a violent person, I just," I paused
again, "I care about you Denholm."

A long silence followed, both of us with our eyes fixed on the bed in front
of us.

"I need to confess something too. Something worse than what you did." He
said quietly, wiping the inside corner of his right eye.

He then looked up at me, blinked once, took a deep breath, and said,

"I'm not the only child that my parents had."

-------

"What?" I replied, almost as an instinctive reaction, now looking at him
directly into his glistening blue eyes.

He wasn't in a hurry to answer, instead reached up to his face, wiping the
moisture from his eyes and then moving his blonde fringe from his forehead
back. "I had a brother," he began,"Chris."

Yet another pause followed. "When we were about eight, me, him and a group
of older lads about your age were outside a shop. The older lads were
trying to get people walking by to go in and buy them alcohol 'cos they
were going out drinking later that night. But then they asked this other
group of lads, some a little older than them, but still a few of them were
a few years older than me and Chris. They started to get aggressive. And
Lewis, I guess the leader of our group got really defensive, and started a
massive fight where everyone started hitting everyone. Me and Chris could
only watch on, or at least try to. In truth, both of us were scared
shitless, wanting to run but also not to leave our friends. Then this lad,
thirteen years old, Michael Warnock, pulled Chris into the fight, pounding
on him with so much anger, Chris didn't have a chance. But I just stood
there and watched as my brother took it all, and seconds later, without
hesitation, I ran away."

I was lost for words, and wanted him to carry on, but I could tell it was
getting difficult for him to speak, so I grabbed him, held him close with
his face pushing into my neck, as I stroked the back of his head.

He carried on, although in a more stuttering tone, "Chris died, that
night. He'd had severe head injuries,from getting punched, and his head hit
against the concrete floor."

"And this is why your dad treated you like he did?" I asked, immediately
wondering if the question was too harsh.

He didn't reply, but said, "everyone blames me, they've told me before how
I should have helped, how the kid couldn't have done what he did against
two of us. They all think I'm a coward."

I was lost for words, partly because of the massive secret of Denholm's
past brother being revealed, and also because Denholm genuinely thought
this was his fault, as if his family had forced him to accept
responsibility for something he had no control over.

I explained to him how I felt, telling him it wasn't his fault and that he
did the right thing by running, knowing the same could have happened to
him.

Still nestled into my neck, he then said he thought the same at first, but
everyone else still blamed him. And that now he had to face them all on
Friday.

It turns out Karen and Julie were sisters of Denholm's mum, (even though I
was told she didn't have any siblings). They didn't take Denholm in because
they simply didn't like him after what happened, and hoped he'd end up
alone in some foster home for the rest of his childhood.

"As long as you know, I don't blame you, my dad doesn't blame you, and
obviously the twins don't blame you, you don't need to worry. Friday is
your mum's day. Don't make it about those people."

He then separated from me, looked up, an expression of appreciation
emerged, although without a smile. He then said, in the softest if voices,
"I love you James."

I looked back down at him, smiling warmly and said, "I love you too."
Something I'd been wanting to say for a while now.

It seemed like our relationship had eventually been moved up to the next
level, past obvious lust and attraction, to a sense of caring and
affection, and now, the most complete feeling of love.


We pulled in closer again, this time our faces moving closer, almost in
slow motion, until our lips met, drifting into one, meaningful kiss. We
pulled our lips apart, still keeping our foreheads locked together while
our eyes remained closed, savouring the moment.

This time Denholm reached up behind my head, pulling me back towards his
lips, until we were both willingly exploring each other's mouths, biting
lips, encircling our tongues around the other's. I opened my eyes
momentarily, to see his face still, and peaceful, as if his movements were
natural and unforced.

While our mouths were locked, I gently pushed him further onto the bed,
until we were lying down, my body on top of his with my weight slightly to
the side to avoid putting too much pressure on him. He ended the kiss, to
tell me to take his shirt off while he took mine off. I did what he asked,
pulling the plain white material over his head, exposing his hairless upper
body. I'd also noticed I'd messed up his hair a little, although this may
have made him look even cuter.

He then told me to lift my arms up, pulling my shirt off, now with an eager
impatience.

By this point, I was slightly kneeling over his body as he leaned back on
to the bed, allowing me to explore his upper body with my head. I began at
his left shoulder, slowly licking the dent in between his neck and the
beginning of his arm.

I moved gradually down to his nipple, covering it with my mouth as my
tongue explored and circled it. I glanced up at Denholm, who still had his
eyes shut, although I could see his face twitch and react to what I was
doing.

I descended further, trailing my tongue down the centre of his his
abdominal muscles; he had a slightly defined six pack, which showed even
more as his stomach tensed as my warm tongue dragged across it's surface. I
stopped for a moment at his belly button, although decided against licking
inside, knowing he's not showered since this morning, and that we'd been
running around a lot during the day.

As I reached the waistband of his underwear which were poking out above his
shorts, he said assertively yet softly, "I want you to fuck me. Please, I
need you to." This time opening his eyes to look at my reaction.

I nodded and said, "I'd love to Denholm."

He then stood up slowly, and said, "in the shower, I want to do it under
the water, standing up."

By now, it was clear what he wanted, and I certainly wasn't objecting, so I
also stood up and followed him as he headed to the bathroom, flicking the
switch on his way.

Without looking back, he removed his navy football shorts and then his
white underwear, making his dick spring out immediately, pointing upwards.

I did the same, my own underwear now sporting a wet patch in the front from
precum. He turned back at me, looking at the my tip, and bent down to lick
it off, then straightening his body again while smiling at me.

He then jumped into the shower, grabbing a bottle of moisturiser from the
sink, and ushering me to join him, which I needed little motivation to do
so. As I walked in, he quickly began washing my body, paying special
attention to my now rock hard cock.

I did the same, although I focused mainly on his plump little butt,
ensuring my fingers massage deep into his crevice, lightly caressing his
hole. He moaned as I did this, and held my shoulders as I continued with
it.

He then handed me the moisturiser, and told me to keep going.

My excitement was growing by the minute, my own dick resting just above
Denholm's, as he stroked its length while I began pushing a little harder
on his warm opening, my middle finger now covered in lotion. I stopped just
after the first knuckle, causing Denholm to shake and tighten his grip both
on my shoulders with his hands, and also the grip on my finger with his
ass.

"Try another one." He muttered, clearly affected by this new sensation.

I did what he asked, making sure to lube up my index finger before it
joined the other. I began slowly moving both fingers in and out, making
sure Denholm wasn't in any pain while I did so.

"Fuck that feels good." And after a few more insertions, he said "I think
I'm ready."

Again, I didn't need to say anything. He knew what he wanted, and I was
happily complying. I positioned my body so I was leaning against the tiled
wall (a pretty convenient spot huh?). I then moved Denholm so he was facing
the same direction, his butt now resting against my throbbing member. He
moved his feet so they were outside of mine, my legs also now in between
his.

I aimed the tip toward his opening, pushing softly against him, until he
relaxed, allowing me to push about an inch.

At the same time, we whispered the word, "fuuuckk." Causing us both to
giggle, which in turn caused his hole to contract against my dick, shooting
another wave of ecstasy through my body. I pushed a little further in, both
of us now breathing deeper and heavier, the shower water drenching both of
our heads as I reached around and held his body close to mine, my face
buried into the back of his neck, as my dick was now buried deep inside of
him.

"You okay?" I asked, which was quickly responded to by a moan of some sort.

"Start moving it." He replied, a few seconds after my initial question.

So I pulled out slowly, until the tip was still about an inch deep, waited
a few seconds, then plunged back in until my balls rested against his
cheeks again. I gradually increased the pace, until I was pushing faster,
without pausing each time. By now our breathing was more like panting, we'd
be sweating if it weren't for the constant flow of water above us, which
Denholm had moved so it dropped conveniently onto the action zone. I
reached around to Denholm's own dick, and began to jack him off in rhythm
to my movements.

After about five minutes of intense, intimate thrusts, Denholm announced he
was about to cum, and after a few more thrusts and a few more pulls on his
length, his body began to stiffen as he shot about four reasonable loads
onto the glass panel in front of him, and onto my hand which remained
gripped around him. This caused his hole to tighten, pushing me over the
edge and into my own world of sensual heaven, resulting in probably the
biggest load of warm, thick semen I'd ever produced, being shot inside of
Denholm.

"Oh my god." I moaned as I pulled him as close as possible, grinding my
hips to allow the last of my cum to enter him.

After about a minute of standing in the same position, my dick still as
hard as before, I reluctantly pulled out of him, turned him around and
continued to kiss him like we'd done in my room beforehand.

"You have no idea how good that felt" he said, breaking the kiss.

"Seriously, I do." I replied, pulling his mouth back to mine.

We quickly washed the remaining mess off ourselves, then walked out of the
shower, drying our bodies with the same towel.

"Should we go back to your bed now?" He asked, gazing up at me with those
beautiful eyes.

"I think you mean, our bed." I smiled, noticing he was now doing the same,
as we walked obliviously into the next room, boned up, and naked as the day
we were born, where we were greeted by the sight of Matty and Sam, smiling
menacingly on the bed.

To be continued in chapter 8...

J.S