Mark and Me
by c m
Chapter 6
I don't remember much about that journey home. I must have answered my parents' questions OK, but I was on autopilot.
Once home, I took my stuff upstairs and sat on the bed. I guessed now was as good a time as any. I went downstairs. Mum and Dad were both in the kitchen. "Mum, Dad...there's something I need to tell you."
"Sounds ominous. is there something wrong?"
"No...no...anything but, really. It's just...it's just...I'm gay." There I had said it. Now for the storm. Mum sat down and looked at Dad. He smiled at me.
"Well, Chris. I can't say that this is a total surprise. You are seventeen and, biased though your Mum and I may be, you are an extremely good looking young man. But one who has never really had a girlfriend or shown much interest in girls. You've done quite a good job of hiding it, but it's something your Mum and I have talked about. At least as one of the possibilities. Is it what we wanted to hear? No. But we are fine with it. We love you, and you can only be who and what you are - and we are proud of you. We will support you as far as we can. It won't be easy for you - even in today's more enlightened world."
By now I was crying hopelessly. They weren't angry. They weren't even very surprised. They loved me. They were proud of me. Dad came and put his arms round me, and then Mum joined him.
"No need for tears. This must have been very hard for you. And I'm sure you feared the worst - though you never needed to. You are courageous along with all your other gifts. Like I say, we are proud of you."
I just looked at them, the tears still coursing down my face. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you both so much."
As he held me, Dad asked, quietly, "Has this got anything to do with a boy called Mark?"
I nodded. Then snapped out of his arms. "But it's not his fault. He didn't make me gay. He just showed me what I am." I was suddenly very frightened.
"Hey, hey Chris...it's OK...I was never meaning to suggest that. Mum said he seemed like a very nice boy. And you've been friends for a while I think."
"Yes...it just...turned into more. I had feelings for him that weren't like anything I'd felt before...and he felt the same about me. It just happened, Dad."
"It's OK. Do his parents know?"
"Yes...they've been so kind to me these last few days. See...Mark knew he was gay at thirteen and told his parents back then. They are so OK with it - though they wanted to make sure that I wasn't some big bully who had seduced their little boy."
"I'm sure it wasn't like that."
"No, it wasn't and they know that and they are happy for both of us. They said for you to phone them if you wanted to know how they felt about it."
"That was nice of them. Chris...we are OK...very OK...with you being gay, and if you've found someone you care about and who cares about you then that sounds great. We look forward to meeting Mark properly some time. Sometime soon I hope."
"Can he come to stay?"
"If his parents say yes, then certainly."
I smiled for the first time since I'd left Mark. "Thank you."
"Umm...I know this may sound crass, but maybe now is the time to ask as we are discussing it…are you and Mark...that is...do you and Mark..."
"Sleep together? Sod it, I'd come this far. Might as well finish the job. "Yes. Are you OK with that?"
"You're seventeen Chris and I think you are old enough to make your own decisions about that. If he comes to stay, may we have some time to think about...sleeping arrangements? What happened at Mark's house?"
I told them and they listened.
"Let us think about it. I appreciate Mark's parents...practical...approach, but if it was a girl I don't think we'd be comfortable with you sleeping together under our roof - and I daresay her parents wouldn't either. The practicalities of your relationship are different but the principle isn't. We need to think about it."
I was going to protest, but I realised that they had been unbelievably good - beyond my wildest dreams - in coping with the fact that their one and only son was gay. I was sure that when they had met Mark they would feel differently anyway - and if they didn't, well, it would be hard to stop us sneaking into one another's beds - and impossible to stop us shagging each other's brains out during the day when they were both out at work. "That's OK, Dad, I understand. But can we talk about it again?"
"Of course. Now, I expect that there is someone you'd like to phone." A big smile crept across my face. "Yes...oh yes...may I? And can I invite him to stay?"
"Yes - if his parents say so, but check any dates with your mother first."
"Thank you. Woohoo!"
I rushed off to the phone and dialled. It was picked up on the second ring.
"Mark Taylor"
"It's me. Chris"
"Chris! You're home. How's things?"
"Well, I've just told my parents I'm gay. It didn't quite go as I thought." I kept my voice level.
"Oh God, they didn't get angry with you did they? Are you OK Chris, tell me you are?"
"It didn't go as I thought because...they were amazing!"
"Ohhhhhhhhh Chris, Chris, Chris...I'm so happy. I knew it would be alright. I told you so! I told you so! What happened?"
I told him in as much detail as I could remember. "And best of all....you are invited to stay!"
"Really? Really?? Oh...my...god. It's perfect."
"Almost perfect." I told him about the sleeping arrangement hurdle.
"Sod that. We can be together. We can have sex during the day if necessary. Oh Chris, I am so happy and so excited."
"Get some dates together and I'll check them with Mum. They suggested the week after next would be OK if that suits you - and your parents of course."
"I'll check now. Call you back soon."
"OK"
I put the phone down and headed back to the kitchen.
"He's going to call back with some dates when he's checked with his parents."
I went over and kissed Mum and then Dad.
"Thank you both for being....being so...great."
"We love you and we want you to be happy - and safe. That's all. When he calls back, do you think I might have a word with his mother?"
"Err...yes...I'm sure you could. Is there any reason why?"
She looked at me. "She and I have both got to deal with our only sons having their first relationship. That's not easy. And it's a gay relationship. Given that they've known about Mark being gay for four years, I could use some tips." She smiled. "If that's OK?"
I smiled. "Yeah Mum...sorry. Of course it's OK." I reckoned that talking to Mrs. Taylor might just be the best thing that could happen - for Mum and for me. Mark called back about fifteen minutes later to say that the week after next was fine. His parents were happy for him to stay for four nights if that was OK with my parents. I told him that my mother would like a word with his and he went off to get her.
"Hello? Fiona Alexander here, Chris's Mum...oh, how kind of you to say so, well, we're pretty fond of him ourselves." She shooed me away and I didn't catch any more of the conversation.
When she came back to the kitchen, she said "Well, Chris, that's all arranged. Mark will come here in time for lunch a week on Sunday and his parents will pick him up again the following Friday afternoon."
Better and better. Five nights.
"You obviously made something of an impression on Mrs. Taylor - and her husband. They have clearly already taken you into their hearts. We also had a very helpful conversation about having a gay son. She is clearly a very intelligent and caring woman. She was also at pains to point out that you and Mark appeared to have a thoroughly healthy relationship - based on a lot of things other than physical attraction - or perhaps I should say as well as physical attraction. She was very open about sex as well."
I looked pained. "Oh Mum...you didn't talk about sex. Please tell that me you didn't talk about sex with my boyfriend's mother?"
"Boyfriend? Well I suppose he is. I shall have to get used to that term, and yes, we talked about sex, and you may have cause to be grateful. I have things to discuss with your father."
"Noooooooo...it gets worse. You can't talk about gay sex with Dad."
"I'm sure he'll find it all most illuminating. Now, why don't you bring down any dirty washing and we'll get it in the machine."
I fled upstairs. This was one weird day. Pretty good overall, but definitely one of the weirder ones.
The next day I called Mark. We agreed that neither of us would jerk off until we met a week on Sunday. This turned out to be harder than I had thought. The first two days were easy - my bits had been sore and achy - but after four days not only were they fully restored but my head was full of Mark - and when my head was full of Mark my bits clamoured for attention. I called Mark the following Sunday. Before I could say a word he said,
"Chris, I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I can go another week without a wank. My cock is fit to bust."
"I know the feeling. I'm desperate. I get hard every time I think of you - which is pretty much all the time."
"Are we allowed one relief wank...just one?"
"I think we should cut ourselves some slack. One wank. Tonight. Let's lie in bed and think of each other and do it at the same time."
"Cool. Eleven o'clock tonight?"
"Perfect...and I can't wait to see you next Sunday."
"Me either. I love you Chris."
"You too."
What followed felt like the slowest week in history. The days seemed to lengthen and Sunday approached at a snail's pace. Even my best friend James started to get fed up with my moaning.
"Chris, we've known each other forever. I've never seen you like this. What the hell is up? Are you OK?"
Should I tell him? Could I tell him? I'd never heard him say anything disrespectful about gays - not that it was exactly a regular topic of conversation - and James was a genuinely nice and caring friend. We played squash together and went swimming together so we'd seen each other naked in the showers many times. If I told him would he be disgusted? Would he think he could never be naked in my presence again. Would it cost me his friendship? I figured if it did, I had misjudged him. And when Mark came to visit he would have to know anyway. I screwed up my courage.
"Yeah, James. There is something up. I need to tell you something. I hope it doesn't change things between us. It's just...I'm gay."
James looked at me. "Well that's hardly news. I've assumed you were gay for ages. I never said anything because you didn't ever bring it up. It wasn't for me to enquire into your sexuality. Mate - girls swoon as you walk past and you never even notice. Makes no difference to me."
"And you were never worried about...being naked with me?"
"Why would I be? You're my friend. I don't assume gay guys look at all other guys as sex objects. And why would you fancy me anyway? You're the golden boy I'm just Joe Average."
"This is amazing. I told my folks and they are OK with it. Now my best friend says he assumed it anyway and is cool with it. Do you know how worried I've been?"
"It's natural. But you are a really nice bloke. You're kind. You're generous. You make me laugh. We have fun together. None of that has anything to do with whether you prefer to stick your cock in a guy or a girl. But what's made you admit you are gay right now?"
I took a deep breath, and I told him about Mark. About how it started and about how it was now. Not the details of course. Just about how he made me feel and how he had made me realise and accept what I was.
"Sounds like a good guy. When do I meet him?"
"Next week if you want - he's coming to stay."
"Cool. I'd love to meet him - if you have time between fucking his brains out... I assume you ARE fucking his brains out?"
"James Taverner! That is a thoroughly inappropriate suggestion." He just sat there looking at me, eyebrows raised.
"Oh, alright, yes, we fuck... amongst other things."
"Ack...too much information. But I'm delighted for you. You deserve to be happy, Chris.' He smiled mischievously, "Ummm...can I watch?"
"Why you little perv..." and before we knew it we were wrestling on the floor, laughing and punching and kicking, each trying to get on top of the other.
"Me a perv? I'm not the one who's sticking his cock in another boy's bottom."
"Take that back..."
"Make me..."
"It wasn't your looks that stopped me propositioning you, it was your tiny cock..."
"It's bigger than yours..."
"In your dreams."
Eventually I won, and had James pinned down as I straddled his waist, my hands around his wrists pinning them behind his head. We were both panting as I looked down at his face.
"Hah, gay boy 1, straight boy 0." I looked into his eyes. "Thanks for being such a good friend, James." I let go of my grip and rolled off him.
"Friends like you don't come along often, Chris. I couldn't care less if you are gay or not. But not everyone feels that way. Be careful. And if anyone ever starts to give you grief, you tell me, OK?"
I nodded. "Thanks, James."
So that was another hurdle crossed. When next Sunday eventually came round, I wandered down to breakfast rather late. Most Sundays I probably wouldn't have bothered at all, but I had hardly slept in anticipation of Mark's arrival later that morning.
"Morning, Chris," said my father, looking over the top of his paper. "Sleep well?"
"Hardly at all, since you ask," I replied, as I tore the end off a croissant.
"Anticipation, huh?"
I nodded.
"Well, I'm pleased you're down here, there's something we need to talk about."
I looked up, worried. "There's nothing wrong is there?"
"No...but we need to discuss sleeping arrangements." My heart sank.
"Your mother and I have been talking about it. She obviously had a very...thorough ...chat with Mark's mother. We talked about it for a long time, but the upshot is....we've decided that, if you want him to, and if he wants to, he can share your room."
I looked at him. I could hardly believe what I'd heard. I shook my head in amazement and jumped up and gave him a kiss.
"Thank you so much, Dad...really. That means so much to me - and Mark."
"Enough with the kissing. Oh, but apparently I have to tell you that you are responsible for washing the sheets."
"Daaaaaaaaad." I saw a smile playing around his lips as he went back to the paper.
I had been so sure that Mark would have to use the guest room, that I had put all sorts of stuff in there. After I had finished breakfast, I went upstairs and took it all back into my room. Then I showered, carefully and thoroughly to ensure I was all ready and waiting for Mark. I even squirted on a spray of the Eau Sauvage that my aunt had given me for my birthday ('It's the perfect fresh fragrance for a nice young man like you'). She was right. I liked its citrussy smell.
Two hours have never passed so slowly.
They arrived almost exactly on the dot of noon. I went out and shook hands with Mark's parents and then gave Mark a huge hug. "Oo...you smell nice," he said.
I showed them inside and introduced them to my parents. My mother said, "Why don't you take Mark upstairs and he can unload his bag."
Good old Mum. She knew we both desperately wanted to say hello to each other properly. Even the bag of his that I wanted to unload probably wasn't the one she was meaning. As we almost ran upstairs I could hear Mark's mother saying what a lovely house it was.
"So where am I sleeping?"
"With me - if you want."
"Of course I want...but your folks are OK with it?"
"Whatever your Mum told my Mum seems to have been the turning point. They have been really cool about everything since I told them."
Once inside my room, I pulled him into my arms, kicked the door shut behind me and kissed him. His lips and tongue were all over me, and then he had my back against the door and he was scrabbling with my belt and my zip. "We don't have time for this Mark."
"We bloody well do. I've been dreaming about you non-stop and I can't wait a second longer."
Before I knew it my trousers were around my ankles and he had pulled my briefs down around my knees. My raging erection sprang out and then his mouth was on it. He sucked me hard and fast. I was so, so ready for him I don't think I lasted as much as a minute before I erupted into his mouth. A week's worth. He gagged and swallowed but some still leaked out around his mouth. I could see his eyes watering as he struggled to keep up with the flow that seemed to pour out of me. Then it was over. He licked all around, then sat back.
"Fuck, I've been wanting to do that ever since you left. And you nearly drowned me by the way - it was like Mount Vesuvius going off." "I have no doubt that you will do the same to me," I said, pulling him to his feet and then switching places. If anything, he lasted even less time than me. His juice was dripping down my chin by the end, which Mark thoughtfully caught in his hand before it went all over my shirt.
"Welcome back." I smiled at him. "We better go wash our faces then get back downstairs."
If either of our sets of parents noticed that we were a little flushed, or noticed the unnatural brightness in our eyes as we returned, they didn't say anything.
Mum had prepared a lovely lunch of roast chicken followed by a rhubarb crumble which seemed to go down well with everyone. Both sets of parents seemed to get on extremely well with each other and as they prepared to sit down with coffee, they let Mark and me leave them to it.
We headed for my room and lay down next to each other on the bed. "They really seem to like each other, don't they, Chris?."
"Yeah...they really do. It's so good. Makes everything easier."
"So, my little sex bomb, what have you got planned for us this week - other than lots and lots of sex?"
"Tart."
"Yeah...but you love me for it."
He rolled onto one arm and kissed me. I pulled him onto me.
"I do. And judging from that lump I can feel in your trousers, you want to start right now."
He wriggled himself against me.
"And it would appear that you do too."
"You bet...but I think we better wait until your folks have gone. Would be too embarrassing to be called down to say goodbye if we were in the middle of...enjoying ourselves."
"Hmmmm...ok...you're right - as usual." He rolled off me.
"So...do I get to meet your friends?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I came out to my best friend James last week and he's looking forward to meeting you?"
"You did? Wow. How did that go?"
"He told me he had assumed I was gay for ages! He was really nice about it. He couldn't care less...he was just happy for me."
"See...I TOLD you everything would be OK. And that's great. Umm, is he sexy?"
"You really are a little tart, Mark Taylor. But, well, he's kind of good looking I suppose - but he's straight."
"So what do you and he do?"
"We hang out, we play squash together, go swimming sometimes. Usual stuff." A thought crossed my mind. "Do you play squash?"
"Nope...you could teach me though."
"OK...come and watch and you can have a go. We often go for a swim after - I don't suppose you brought a cozzie?"
Mark shook his head.
"Never mind, I've got a couple of spares - they should fit you OK." "Cool...oh, and talking of friends, Steve sends his regards."
I propped myself up on one elbow and looked at Mark. "You know Mark, things aren't the same as they were ten days ago. Not in a bad way, in a good way. I've come out to my parents and to my best friend both of whom have been great. Our parents have met, and they like each other - and they like us. They are happy we are together - they are even happy to let us sleep together. Your friends have met me and know I'm gay and that we are a couple. Soon James will have met you. All of a sudden, we don't have to worry that each time we see each other or each time we make love that it might be for the last time or that we have to hide what we are doing from our family or friends."
"I know. It's wonderful isn't it? We are going to have to face the fact that school is not going to be easy, but like you say, in nine months you'll be done with school and then even that will no longer be a problem. Guess we'll have to deal with our wank-buddies. Maybe we should try and pair them off. Assuming that you want any sexual stuff just to be between us."
"I do…but we need to avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves. And now that our relationship is safe and secure...now that I've come out to the people who most matter to me...now that I don't have to worry about losing you, that I don't have to worry that every time might be our last...I am actually OK with the idea of us having the odd session with our wank-buddies if it keeps things safer for us. How do you feel about it?"
"The same - for a wank. I wouldn't want anyone else sucking or fucking me - or you. Not that that's on the agenda."
"Agreed."
A voice came up from downstairs. "Boys...Mr. and Mrs. Taylor are leaving now."
We hopped off the bed and went downstairs to say good bye. Mark hugged and kissed both his parents, and I gave Mrs. Taylor a kiss and shook Mr. Taylor's hand.
"Enjoy yourselves, and we will be back to collect Mark on Friday."
"We will."
It was a lovely afternoon, so Mark and I walked down to the hammock and got into it. Mark lay with his head on my shoulder, my arm around him, and we lay there, swaying gently.
"I could stay like this for ever, Chris. I still can't believe that less than two months ago you were just a boy I fancied but was sure I could never have. And now look at us. I feel like I've dug up the world's greatest treasure and been told I can keep it." "I guess you just unearthed what was already there. After that first time we touched...I knew it was different. It wasn't like Johnny. It wasn't like anything. I suddenly just seemed to see you properly for the first time. And Mark, you are incredibly sexy. I have no idea why I hadn't seen it before. You'd matured into a very handsome boy in front of me and I hadn't seen it. When I did...well...nature took over I guess. A nature you awoke in me."
Mark put a hand on my heart. "Thing is, most boys with your looks and your body know they have something special. And most of them are arrogant as a result. You just walk around like there is nothing special about you. And it's exactly that that is so special. You are the nicest, kindest boy as well as the handsomest. It is going to be so hard not to shout out to all the other boys at school, 'He's mine. Chris Alexander is my boyfriend and I'm the luckiest guy in the world.' When I see them looking at you, lusting after you - and loads of them do, you know - I am going to be thinking 'lust all you want. He's mine. His body is mine and it's even better than in your wildest dreams. And he's even nicer than you realise...and he's chosen me'."
"For God's sake...you make me out to be...I don't know. Look. I'm just me. And I am as proud to have you as my boyfriend as you seem to be to have me." I kissed him.
"See? See?...that's exactly it. You don't realise just how one in a million you are." And then he shouted. "I AM THE LUCKIEST BOY IN THE WORLD."
"Shush...for heaven's sake."
"The only way to make me shut up is to put something in my mouth," he said with an evil grin.
"NO...not here. God, you are impossible." I said, removing his hand from my groin.
"Spoilsport."
Dad started mowing the lawn which was a pleasant buzz until he got closer to our end of the garden when it became a little noisy.
"C'mon,' I said, ëlet's head inside." I flipped myself out of the hammock and then inverted it, causing Mark to fall to the grass with a thump.
"Ouch. I take back everything I said about you being nice and kind and considerate. It's clearly all an act."
I put my arm round his shoulders as we walked up to the house. I saw Mum looking out of the lounge window before she turned and disappeared from view. I'm sure that she was smiling.
That night we made love continuously from ten o'clock - when we had made our excuses for an early night - until three in the morning when, exhausted, we finally rolled over and went to sleep. We had started by just holding each other, our bodies pressed together and our lips locked on each other. We had sixty-nined, then Mark had ridden me. Then he had entered me as I lay on my back, my legs wrapped around his waist, our eyes locked on each other as he filled me. Then he had sat on my thighs and wanked me slowly and deliberately. And finally he had begged me to enter him again as he lay on his side. This was slow sex as I took my time to give Mark all the pleasure I could. When it was all over, the towel we had put under us (because Mark was determined neither of us was going to sleep in a wet patch) was soaked with our sweat and our cum. I rolled it into a ball and threw it in the corner. And then we slept. We slept until nearly ten o'clock.
When I woke the house was silent - my parents had gone to work long since. Good. I walked - naked - to the bathroom next door, taking the crumpled up towel with me. I threw the towel in the shower and turned on the water. After using the toilet, I got under the stream of hot water and washed the crusty remains of our lovemaking off my body. I wrung the towel out two or three times and sniffed it...it seemed clean. I grabbed the shampoo and washed my hair. It appeared, from the tangles I encountered, that Mark had managed to get his cum there as well. I squirted some shower gel onto my hands and lathered myself all over. I was pleased to discover that I wasn't too sore, either.
I towelled myself dry, brushed my teeth, hung the towel I'd washed on the heated rail and wandered back into the bedroom. There was, unsurprisingly, quite a distinct smell in the room and I opened the window a little wider; so that was what boy-sex smelled like. Mark was sleeping on his back as I slipped back under the covers and slid my hand between his legs. He was hard and I gently slid my hand up and down it. I pulled back the covers. His body, like mine had been, was patterned with streaks of white. He stirred and opened one eye.
"You stink," I said conversationally.
"And good morning to you too," he replied.
I squeezed his cock. "Take that and the rest of you into the shower. I want you - but I want you clean."
He looked at me more clearly, both eyes open. His eyes travelled down to my groin where my arousal was all too evident.
"Sex mad slave driver."
He disappeared into the bathroom and I soon heard the sound of the shower running. Ten minutes later he was back, clean and smelling faintly of shampoo. I was lying on the bed. I smiled.
"Much better."
He came over and sat beside me, putting his hand between my legs and taking hold of my semi-hard cock. It swelled and straightened in his grasp.
"God I love the feeling of you going hard in my hand." He stroked me gently.
"Would you ride me again Mark? I love it when you're on top of me and I can watch you and stroke you while we do it."
"He smiled. 'My God, where's the shy little innocent that I was in bed with two weeks ago?"
"Gone...I hope you don't mind."
"I love it."
He straddled me, and slowly lowered himself onto me. With little more than a sharp intake of breath, he was soon sitting flat on my thighs with my length fully inside him. We made love slowly and sensually. Later, after we'd dressed and had something to eat, I called James. He was up for a swim so we arranged to meet at the sports club where we had family membership. As well as a very nice pool, they had squash courts, tennis courts, and a gym, as well as table tennis and a snooker room.
I went to look out my swimming trunks and to find a pair for Mark. There was a choice; I had speedos and shorts. I decided that with Mark around, the risk of popping a boner meant that speedos might be embarrassing, so chose a rather lurid green patterned pair for me and a plain orange pair for Mark. When we arrived at the club, James was already waiting. I introduced Mark and they shook hands and we walked down to the changing rooms for the pool.
"So," said James, "you're the one who's finally made this idiot realise he's gay?" Mark smiled.
"Just so you know, I'm completely OK with it. I love this guy and I'm pleased he's found what he's been looking for - even if he didn't realise it."
"Thanks James, I hope we'll be good friends too."
James flashed one of his smiles. "I'm sure we will."
We all got changed unselfconsciously. Being naked with each other was something that James and I had done for years - not in a sexual sense but from being bathed together from when we were about five onwards and he came to stay over, to changing together for swimming and showering these days. And of course Mark and I were more than familiar with each other. I was a little curious to see how James would feel about being naked around Mark, but he was just his usual self, stripping off before slipping his shorts on. I saw Mark checking him out, and smiled. James had a good body - he was a rugby player - and he had nothing to be ashamed of between his legs either.
We walked through the shower and out to the pool where we dived in. We had the place almost to ourselves. I recognised a couple of the other boys swimming there and we acknowledged each other with a wave, but other than that it was very quiet. I guess two o'clock on a weekday afternoon was a time when most of the members were at work. James was a good swimmer, and powered up and down, alternating crawl and breaststroke. I was quite a strong swimmer, but much less stylish than James. Mark was a bit of a revelation, swimming easily and smoothly, eating up the yards effortlessly as those who have been properly taught do. His breast stroke was almost as fast as my crawl. James noticed too.
"Hey Mark, who taught you to swim? You're good."
"One of my Dad's friends is a coach. He gave me all the basics. He keeps trying to get me to take it up seriously, but I'm not really interested. And I spend enough time playing and training for hockey already - and that's something I really enjoy."
"Of course, Chris said that you and he played together. No pun intended.' He waggled his eyebrows at me.
"Mark? I called, "this boy needs a lesson."
Mark swam over and we ducked James, who rose, spluttering, to the surface. We swam for about an hour, by which time we were the only ones left in the pool, before heaving ourselves out and making for the changing rooms. James grabbed a bottle of shower gel from his bag before heading to the showers. He stripped off his trunks and turned on three of the four showers in the end section of the block that was divided into sets of four by three-quarter height walls. I followed suit and Mark, seeing that this was the convention, did likewise.
We stood, all three of us, under the hot water and after James had soaped himself up he threw the bottle to me and I, after squeezing out what I needed in turn, handed it to Mark. I saw James look Mark up and down and then he turned towards me and gave me a thumbs up with a big grin on his face. I gave him a thumbs up back and we cracked up.
"What's so funny?" asked Mark.
"James approves of you."
"Cool...I approve of him too."
"Yeah, but it's a shame he has such a tiny cock."
Suddenly James was slapping at my head, my sides, my bottom and I was dancing around trying to get away from him.
"Ouch..ow..oo...OK, OK, sorry, sorry."
Mark was laughing. "He seems to be about the same size as you from where I'm standing."
"Yeah," said James, "but the rest of him is one big dick."
"Oh bloody charming."
Mark was laughing helplessly. "Well, I'm bigger than both of you."
James and I looked at each other, then both grabbed him. I turned the fourth shower on with just the cold water running, and we held Mark underneath it.
"Fuck, fuck, that's cold...you bastards."
We eventually let him go.
"Hah...looks like someone's not so big now," said James, pointing to Mark's groin where the cold water had had its usual shrivelling effect.
"Chris, would you please tell your friend not to point at my cock," said Mark with faked primness.
"Yeah James, stop staring at my boyfriend's cock." We all laughed and rinsed off under a final blast of hot water before getting changed.
"Why don't we go over to the viewing gallery on the squash courts. Mark wants to learn so we could at least explain the way it works?"
"Good idea."
We made our way up the stairs to the gallery that ran along behind the squash courts. Two of the boys who had been in the pool were playing and clearly knew what they were doing. We talked Mark through the basics and then went down and booked a court for the following day.
I invited James back to my house and on the way he and Mark talked about all sorts of things. I smiled. I was so pleased that the two guys I liked most in the world were already acting like they'd been friends for ever. Once home we made ourselves tea and a pile of toast which we worked our way through. As we sat there, James said
"Can I ask you guys a really...personal...question?"
I looked at Mark. He shrugged. "Sure."
"It's just...doesn't it hurt like hell to have another guy's cock shoved up your bum? I mean...where's the pleasure? And isn't it...messy? Sorry...I know it's indelicate but I'm really curious."
"That's OK, James. I can see why you'd think that. It's not messy. You get clean - inside and out - before you start. Well, usually. As for being painful, I guess it does hurt a little at first, although the pain quickly goes and after the first few times it gets much easier. Ask Chris."
I blushed like fury. "Geez, Mark. Thanks for that."
"Really, Chris?"
"Yeah...really James. I know it's hard to believe - I wouldn't have believed it two weeks ago - but the pain goes and you get this incredible glow and little jolts of pleasure shoot through you."
"Wow. OK."
Mark continued. "And it's also about the way you feel about the guy you're doing it with. When Chris is inside me, it feels good not just because my body is getting good feelings from what he is doing to me physically, but because my mind is just overwhelmed with happiness at being with such an amazing boy - if that makes sense. What I am saying is that it isn't just physical. I mean - and I know you are not into this in any way - but if you were to do it to me - and you're very good looking and I like you a lot - it wouldn't feel the same as having Chris in me. There would be something missing."
James nodded.
"However," added Mark, "if you just wanted a blow job I'd be happy to oblige any time."
James looked up sharply then saw the look on Mark's face and burst out laughing. "You're funny. And thanks for answering my incredibly intrusive question. I apologise - I shouldn't have asked."
"No it was OK to ask. We're your friends. If you can't ask us, who can you ask? And more straight guys need to understand that it's just different, not weird."
"And James," I added, mischievously, "You should think about the offer of a blow job. Guys are better at it than girls."
"Hmm...well...I'll take your word for that."
We went and played squash the next day. James and I played a couple of games which we shared, and then Mark came down to have a go. It took him a little while to get used to the bounce of the ball and the way it came off the walls, but, natural sportsman that he was, he had soon got the hang of it. I reckoned with a few more games under his belt, he'd soon be quite a handful. I took a breather and James played with Mark instead. It was good to watch until Mark got caught wrong footed and James crashed into him in the middle of the court, the two of them going down in a heap. I went down to make sure they were alright. James was sitting in the middle of the court rubbing his knee where he'd banged it on the floor, and Mark was nursing a sore shoulder which James had landed on as they got tangled up.
"Geez, James, the lengths some people will go to get their hands on another boy's body..."
Mark looked up and giggled, "He only had to ask."
"Fuck off the pair of you," said James companionably. "Enough for today, I think. Time we all got showered." He tried to stand up and collapsed. His knee was clearly worse than he had said.
The bang to James' knee was bad enough to need me to put an arm round his waist while he put one around my shoulders to help him back to the changing rooms. Once there, he sat down and I took a closer look. His knee was a little swollen, and he yelped when I touched it.
"Maybe you twisted it as well as giving it a bang. We'll get some ice on it at home."
By the time we had showered, it was clearly difficult for James to walk. Mark and I got either side of him and put an arm round his waist, while he supported himself on our shoulders. We made our way in ungainly fashion back to reception.
"I better call a taxi. You can't walk from here." At that moment, Paul, one of the trainers from the gym emerged, clearly at the end of his shift. He recognised me,
"Hi Chris...nice to see you. Got a problem?" he said, seeing James.
"Twisted knee. We need a cab to get him home."
"I'm virtually passing your door on my way home. I'll give you a lift."
A minute or so later, he was outside the main entrance and we got James into the front of his car. Mark and I sat in the back. Ten minutes later we were outside my house.
"Thanks, Paul, that was really kind."
"Pleasure Chris. Any time."
We went inside and James undid his trousers before sitting down at a kitchen chair. I got a bag of ice out of the freezer and wrapped it around his knee.
"Bloody hell, that's cold."
"That's the idea."
I got some tape and wrapped it around the ice and his knee. I caught myself thinking that he had really nice legs. Firmly muscled, lightly tanned and with a dusting of hair all over. I slapped him lightly on the thigh.
"Job done. Let's see how it is in half an hour."
Thirty minutes later, it definitely looked better. The swelling had gone down and James said it was a lot less painful. I found some strapping in the first aid box and wrapped it around his knee. I had had a similar injury the previous hockey season and could remember pretty much how my own knee had been supported.
"Thanks, Chris." said James as he pulled his trousers back up and gingerly tested his weight on his leg. "I think it will be fine."
He gave his mother a call and explained what had happened. She said she would be round to pick him up in a hour.
"Maybe you guys can come over to my place tomorrow. I think I should rest this for a day or so."
I nodded. Going to James' parents place would be fun. They had a big, rambling house with a long garden where James and I often shot air rifles at targets.
"That would be great. Can we do some shooting?"
"Sure, if the weather holds."
"Shooting?" said Mark.
"Yeah... air rifles. You ever done that?" Mark shook his head. 'It looks like one new experience after another with you."
James choked back a laugh.
"You," I said to him, "have a filthy mind - and there's no point in looking all big and innocent eyed at me, I know you too well."
That night as we lay in bed together, Mark said, "I really like James. He's a good friend. It would have been easy for him to hate me, barging in on your friendship."
"He's not like that. He's a good guy."
"He is. Quite sexy too."
I gave Mark a playful slap.
"Well he is. Not as sexy as you of course."
"And if I wasn't here, would you?"
Mark giggled. "I'd give it a go." I looked at him. He held his hands up. "Yeah, yeah, I know....I'm a slut."
My two best friends. I loved them both.
"But actually, Mark...if he changed his mind about you giving him a blow job...it would be OK with me - provided you told me. A gift from a friend to a friend."
"You'd be OK with that? Really? Wow. Well, I don't think it's going to happen but, gee, you never stop surprising me'.
He paused, then snapped his fingers. "Oh, yes, I know what I was going to say, you know that guy at the club who gave us a lift?"
"Paul?"
"Yes. You know he fancies the pants off you, don't you?"
"Really? Paul? What makes you say that?"
"It's the way he looked at you. I know because it's how I used to look at you. Lust and longing. I bet you any amount of money you like that he's gay."
"Well, if he is and he does, it's a one way attraction. He's nice enough, but even if I didn't have you I don't think I'd be remotely interested in him in that way."
"So.....would you be interested in me 'in that way'...right now?"
"I'm always interested in you in that way."
Mark put a hand between my legs. "Ooh...so you are. Come here."
We kissed and cuddled, and then we stroked each other, and then we sucked each other off. It was gentle, lazy sex and it was wonderful.
The next morning dawned sunny and warm. I had woken up early and was standing, naked, at the window looking down the garden. I felt Mark's hands wrap themselves around my waist, his body pressed up against mine and his head on my shoulder.
"What a lovely morning." I put my hands over his and leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine.
"I am so happy, Mark."
"Me too, Chris." I felt his hands slip down between my legs. I stiffened at his touch. He began to stroke me slowly.
"I love you Chris Alexander. I love your body. I love your mind. And I love your soul. I love your friends. I love being with you. I love having sex with you." He bit my earlobe. "I love you so much." His stroking had increased and I could feel myself churning. A final squeeze made me thrust my hips forward and then nothing could stop it. The first shot hit the window and the rest went all over his hands as he kept going until my last spurt had finished.
I turned my head towards him. "You really are a first class wanker."
"Don't be rude."
"I'm not. No-one does it like you."
I cleaned the mess off the window and took him back to bed. I took him in my mouth. I loved the sensation of it, the feel of it, the taste of it, the texture of it. I loved the way it swelled and the way it kicked and bucked in my mouth as he climaxed. I loved the taste of him. I sucked every last drop out of him and could feel his hardness slowly subside. I scooched back up to lie beside him - face to face. We kissed.
The next day, before we'd left to go to James, he called. "Andy is coming over this morning as well - what do you guys want me to tell him about Mark?"
I knew Andy. James had known him almost as long as he he'd known me. I liked him, but we weren't as close as James and I were - and I wasn't sure how he felt about the whole gay thing.
"Umm...that's fine; why don't you just tell him that Mark and I are school friends and that he's staying with me. I don't think he needs to know any more. If things...change...we can deal with it as it happens."
"OK Chris, no prob."
We headed on out later that morning and got to James' place around twelve. His mother was there to welcome us.
"Hello Chris, nice to see you - and you must be Mark. Andy and James are through in the games room."
We went down a flight of stairs to the basement. The games room was a former cellar that had been turned into a room with snooker and pool tables, a television and a bar against the far wall. Andy and James were playing snooker as we arrived. "Hi guys," said James, limping around the table to come and give both of us a hug. I gave him a squeeze and asked him how his knee was.
"Oh it's gonna be fine. Another couple of days and I'll be whooping your ass at squash again."
"Yeah, right...but I'm pleased it's on the mend."
"Andy, come and meet Mark. He's staying with Chris for a few days."
"Hi Mark, good to meet you. James tells me you guys are at the same school, play hockey together, do the same subjects... pleased to see you don't look like the ugly git as well." He held out his hand to Mark with a big smile on his face.
"Nice to meet you, Andy. Yeah...I know....still, we can't all be good-looking, eh?" They shook hands.
"Hey Chris...good to see you, man."
"You too Andy." We gave each other a brief hug.
"Chris - I've put the air rifles upstairs by the back door," James said, "If you and Mark want to head on out to the range, that's fine. Andy and I will join you once we've finished here."
"OK, James, see you in a bit."
Mark and I went back upstairs and through into the kitchen. As James had said, there were two rifles by the back door, along with targets and two tins of pellets. Mark and I each took one of the weapons and headed out across the back garden and over to the archway which led to the walled garden where the makeshift range was located.
As we walked, Mark said, "Chris. I don't know why, but I didn't feel very comfortable with Andy."
"He's usually OK...only trouble is, he's said stuff in the past about gays that means I don't think he's very sympathetic. He doesn't know I'm gay - and I don't want to upset his friendship with James unless it's unavoidable. I'm sorry Mark, I didn't think. Maybe we shouldn't have come."
"Hey...James must know how Andy feels about gays. I trust him."
Mark and I set out the targets and I adjusted the sights on both guns. Whilst not a perfect shot, I was good enough to be able to set a group and then work out if the sights were off. Mark turned out to be a decent shot - especially from a prone position - and we had just gone down to collect our second set of targets when James and Andy appeared. James looked at the targets.
"Hmmm...not bad. Let's see if we can do better."
I knew that James a was an excellent shot - virtually a marksman. Years of practice had told. Andy was inconsistent, and sure enough their targets told the story. James had a near perfect group in the centre while Andy's looked like someone had thrown the pellets at it from a few feet away. Andy was disgruntled and it got to him.
"So how come I haven't met Mark before? You guys just became... friends, Chris?"
I didn't like the undertone in his voice but I just said, "Yes...something like that. We only started playing together in the same team a few months ago and well...we just kind of found we had stuff in common."
"Stuff in common. Yeah. You public schoolboys do I guess." I could see Mark tensing. James intervened.
"Hey Andy, what's up with you? Chris has been a friend for years and I really like Mark. Give him a chance. And what are you suggesting anyway?"
"I dunno, James. I'm sorry. Sorry Chris. Fed up of coming behind all you guys at shooting I guess...and now Mark is better than me too."
"Beginner's luck," said Mark.
Andy's face clouded again. "I think that makes it worse. I've been shooting with these guys for years. And you turn out to be a natural."
I could see Andy getting angry again. "So what is it they say? Fifty percent of public schoolboys are gay? Which one of you two is it? Guess it must be you Mark, can't see Chris as gay."
I'd had enough. And blow the consequences. "Fuck off Andy - and leave Mark alone."
"Oh...then maybe it IS you who's the gay one Chris. You've got the pretty boy looks for it."
James stepped over and stood in front of Andy. "Andy, you apologise and be nice or you leave. This is my house and you are all my guests. I know you're ticked off about the shooting, but that doesn't excuse what you've said. You seem to forget that I'm a public schoolboy as well - so maybe you think I'm gay? And you know what, even if I was, you need to think about your attitudes. We're all friends. Gay, straight, whatever...it doesn't matter. It's the people they are that we like - and if we like them, then what does their sexuality have to do with anything? Just suppose Chris WAS gay...would he be less fun to be with? Would he be less funny? Or less kind? Would he be less of a friend?"
Andy looked at him then hung his head. "No...no of course not. I'm sorry, it's just I've been brought up by parents who think homosexuality is wrong, and at school all the guys just say they are pervs and all that and if you don't join in they say you're gay too. I know it's wrong."
I knew what I had to say. "Hey, Andy, it's not easy...we know that...but I hope you really do feel that way because I AM gay."
"Me too," said Mark.
Andy looked at us. I could see that his mind and his gut were fighting. "Well James, what do you think now?"
"I already know, Andy. Chris told me. I couldn't care less. Like I say, so far as I'm concerned nothing has changed. He's still my best friend. In fact, I'm not only pleased for him, I'm pleased for me, because it means that's one less good-looking guy fighting me for the girls." He grinned. I grinned back. Even Andy smiled.
"I suppose when you put it like that...."
I stepped towards him and held out my arms. "No hard feelings?"
He didn't move, but just said "No hard feelings."
I still had my arms open. "Hug?...it's OK...I'm not contagious. You can't catch gayness from me."
He paused, then smiled and stepped forward and gave me a hug. "Sorry I was such a dick about it."
"It's OK. Just...remember this the next time someone has a go at gays."
He nodded. "Ummm...at the risk of being gauche...are you and Mark...?"
"Yeah, we are."
As we got ready for bed that evening, I reflected that it had been a pretty remarkable few days. I'd come out to my best friend who was cool with it, and we'd convinced a potential homophobe to see the world differently. Actually, I thought, that was really down to James. Mark must have read my thoughts.
"That James is one hell of a friend isn't he?"
"Yeah, Mark, he truly is. I'm really lucky - we're really lucky - to have him."
We went into the bathroom together and I turned on the shower. I could see that Mark was already aroused.
"I see your mind is already on my body."
"Who said it was YOU I was thinking of," said Mark with a little, impish grin.
"Why you little tart, Mark Taylor." "No need to be jealous. Why would I want anyone but you? And I do want you. Right now."
I took him under the running water - fast and urgent; we both wanted it that way. As we cleaned up afterwards, he kissed me then ran his tongue all down my chest and stomach to my groin. He turned me round with his hands and started to run his hand up and down between my cheeks. "Bend over, Chris." I did, and felt his tongue running down from the top of my crack to my hole. I felt him lick it and then force his tongue inside me. I squirmed with pleasure as it flickered in and out of me.
"I want you Chris."
"Mmmm."
I felt him enter me, slowly pressing himself deeper and deeper inside. It felt good, but I wanted to watch him while he did it.
"Let's finish this in bed." We half dried off and scampered naked across the corridor and into my room. I put my towel on the bed and lay on top, drawing my knees up to my chest.
"I love to look into your eyes when you're inside me."
Mark smiled and slid himself back into me. We were too horny to make it last very long, and he was soon shooting deep inside me.
We lay side by side afterwards. "If you had to choose, Chris, between being a top or a bottom, what would you choose?"
"I hope we can carry on doing both."
"Sure. But if you had to choose one or the other?"
I thought about it. "If I had to choose...I'd choose...to top you. What about you?"
"I'd definitely choose to be bottom. I love having you buried deep inside me. It was what I fantasised about before we got together. I used to lie in bed imagining that you would come into the dorm when everyone else was asleep, get into bed beside me and place your finger on my lips and whisper in my ear that you wanted me. You turned me on my side and slid yourself into me and filled me with your seed, before before kissing me and slipping away back to your bed." He rolled onto one arm and looked into my eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I love doing you, but deep down inside, I want you to possess me...to own me...I want to be yours."
"I want that too. And I have it. But we are equals. We belong to each other."
We kissed and we cuddled and inevitably we ended up making love again. We just seemed to be able to do it over and over again.
On Thursday, we went and played squash again - Mark was improving rapidly - and then went for a swim afterwards. It was busier today but we still managed to do a few lengths and practised some dives off the springboard. James' knee was still recovering but he joined us in the snooker room as we set the balls up on the table.
"Hello arsebandits," he said with a smile.
"Well if it isn't our virgin straightboy," I replied. We stuck our tongues out at each other. Mark just stood there shaking his head. James took on the two of us and we played alternate shots. It was not a high-class affair and he eventually won 42-40.
"So, what's my prize for winning?" he asked.
"That free blow job," I joked.
"Come on, you don't mean that and anyway..."
"Anyway what? It's OK to be curious. And Mark and I have talked about it." I looked at Mark who nodded. "It's yours if you want it. From either of us. But the other one gets to watch."
I could see James really struggling. "Look Chris, it's really kind and...no...fuck...I can't do it. I'm not...gay."
"Being given a blow job doesn't make you gay. You don't have to give one back. It's a gift from us to you as your friends."
James was walking around, his head held in his hands as his desire and his fear fought. "Guys, if anyone else had offered me, I'd have said no without a second thought. So why am I even hesitating?"
"Because you want to...and you trust us...and you like us. Hey...there's no pressure. It's just an offer. If you want to say 'no' that's fine."
"I do like you - hell I love you Chris, you're my best friend. And I do trust you. And...yes...I am way curious about what it would feel like. Shit."
He walked around some more.
"And this stays just between us? And it's just this once?"
Mark and I both nodded.
"And if I say yes, I get to choose who...does it?"
We nodded.
"Fuck it. Then yes."
Mark and I smiled at each other. "So who do want to do it and who do you want to watch?"
"Chris...I can't do this with my best friend. But I wouldn't mind you watching. Is it OK if I choose Mark?"
"Of course."
"So...when?"
"Well, we have three hours before Mum gets back if we head off to my place now. Or we can arrange it for tomorrow."
"No...let's do it now. I might have lost my nerve by tomorrow."
It was three very nervous and excited boys who found themselves in my bedroom some twenty minutes later. "OK James. Standing up or on the bed?"
"Chris...I'm not sure I can go through with this."
"If you want to change your mind that's OK. Do you still fancy the idea of a blow job?"
James nodded. I went over and put my arms on his shoulders.
"You're with friends. We want to make you feel good. You have been my best friend for ever, and you have been so kind to Mark and me these past few days. Think of this as a thank you. We want to give you this. But it's also fine to change your mind."
He smiled. "Ok...I guess...let's do it."
He unbuckled his belt, unzipped the fly and let them drop to the floor around his ankles. Mark knelt down in front of him, hooked his fingers inside James' boxers, and pulled them down. I had never seen James hard and I have to confess I was curious. I moved round to one side to take a look. James was pulsing slowly to full hardness with little jerky movements; he thickened and lengthened in front of our eyes. Fully erect, he was longer than me but not quite as thick. I saw Mark wrap a hand around it and bring the tip to his lips. James took a sharp intake of breath as he felt Mark's fingers take hold of him, and then I saw James' eyes widen as Mark's mouth engulfed him. He bit his lip, then let out a gasp of pleasure as Mark slid his mouth all the way down and then licked all the way back up again. I saw James' hands grasp handfuls of Mark's hair as his lips worked up and down faster and faster. He was uttering little mewing sounds.
It was all too much for me. I unbuckled my belt and pulled my erection out of my briefs and started stroking it.
James' eyes were now tightly closed, his face screwed up with pleasure and then I saw his stomach muscles spasm.
"Ohhhh," he groaned.
Mark released James from his mouth. The next moment, a rope of cum shot out, splashing on Mark's face, and then one more.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck.Oh my god. Fuck." James opened his eyes. I smiled across at him. His eyes widened as he saw me stroking my erection.
"Was that good, James?"
"Good? It was fucking amazing."
Meanwhile Mark had shuffled over to me and taken me in his mouth. James just watched, wordless. It didn't take long, and I was soon climaxing in Mark's mouth.
"Are you OK James?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I just need to get my head around...what's happened And…did Mark just swallow your stuff?"
"Yeah. He tastes nice," said Mark. And it saves all this." He pointed to his face. "And James - it's OK. You're not gay. But you did just experience why gay boys do it better."
"Thanks, guys...that was pretty amazing. Thank you for my gift - I shall remember it for a very long time. I'm not sure I'd want to do it again...though maybe I'll change my mind, who knows."
He turned to Mark. "Tomorrow is your last day before going home, yes?"
Mark nodded. "Well, hope to catch you, if not, look forward to next time. I need to get home now."
We saw James to the door and he headed off. He turned to wave.
"He did enjoy that...didn't he?"
"Yes. I'm sure he did. But I need to talk to him. Maybe give him a few days. I think there's stuff going on in his head. I hope it's all good. I hope we didn't screw things up with him."
"I think he's OK Chris. And for what it's worth, I really enjoyed myself too."
I smiled at Mark. I hoped he was right. Maybe I shouldn't have got my best friend involved in this. That night was our last together before Mark went home. Despite our fun with James that afternoon, we were hungry for each other. I didn't want him to get out of bed in the morning and we snuggled up until eventually Mum knocked on the door and told us to get moving as Mark's mother would be here in less than an hour. We showered together - and then we were packing Mark's bag. We hugged each other. There were tears. We knew that the next time we saw each other would be at school and that would be a whole different ball game. The doorbell rang and the moment was here. I walked Mark to the car. He put his bag in the boot and came and stood in front of me. He hugged me. We kissed. I didn't care who saw.
"I love you Chris Alexander. I love you more than anything in the world. Thank you for being my boyfriend."
I couldn't speak. Mark understood. I gave him one last hug and then he was gone.
When I got back inside, Mum was there.
"You really love that boy, don't you?" I nodded. "He clearly loves you too. I'm very happy for you Chris. Dad and I like him very much."
"Thanks Mum. Does love always hurt like this?"
"It does when it's true love. It's painful, but it's a very good sign." She kissed me.
I went back upstairs and stripped the sheets off the bed. I buried my face in them. They smelled of Mark and of sex. Crusty stains marked our love making over the past few days. I took them downstairs and put them in the washing machine. Mum came in.
"It's OK, Chris. I'll do that."
"No, Mum. I need to do this."
I put soap and conditioner in the machine, selected 'hot wash' and then I went back upstairs and lay on the bed and cried with the pain of being without him.
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