Sunnybanks
by c m
Chapter 1
Most of the guests are nice to me when they check in - and if they are surprised to find a sixteen-year old boy manning reception, most of them don't show it.
I'm on reception to help out my Mum. She's the general manager and the hotel is owned by my grandfather. We didn't really have anything to do with the hotel until three years ago when, in the space of two months, my world changed forever. First, my grandma died and then two months later my Dad was killed in a stupid accident.
Until then I'd lived the life of most children of service families. My Dad was in the RAF and we'd moved round the country – and the world – for as long as I can remember. After Dad died, Mum had a decent widow's pension – but not really enough to live on comfortably and so she took on the job of managing the hotel. My grandfather was very grateful and has taught her all she needs to know about running a successful business – but he's not so well himself now and can't help with the running of the hotel. And it's all too much for Mum on her own. So I took the decision to leave school. I'm 16.
When I told Mum what I'd decided, it caused the most almighty row. I'm academically bright. Well, very bright, actually, and so the plan laid out in front of me was A levels and then University and then…well who knows. So when I said I wanted to leave to help Mum run the hotel, she told me point blank that I couldn't. And my teachers all told me the same; that it would be a waste of my god-given talents.
But I'm nothing if not determined (Mum calls it stubborn), and I'd thought it through pretty carefully. I said to her that I wouldn't give up learning completely, but that what I wanted to do was a hospitality course at the local College on a part-time basis and help her run the hotel the rest of the time. I told here that even if I'd followed the path everyone else had set out for me, I'd still have finished Uni wanting to run the hotel; it was a good career and one day it would be my own business. But if I did it my way, by the time I would otherwise just be leaving Uni, I would have a relevant qualification, three years practical experience, and an income instead of a debt. And I'd be doing something I was passionate about.
My mother asked my grandfather to try and make me see sense, but he turned out to be on my side.
'I never went to University, Jess (that's my mother) and while I wouldn't dream of stopping the boy going if he wanted to, if this is what he wants to do instead, why not? He's obviously thought about it and nothing would make me happier than to know that one day this hotel would be in my grandson's hands and not been sold off to some chain of identikit bean-counters. The fact that he's bright doesn't mean that he can only use those gifts in academia; I'm prepared to bet that he'll fly at College and come out of it with the knowledge, joined with his passion and his instincts, that will make this place really hum.'
'Well a fat lot of use you are,' Mum said to him.
My grandfather just winked at me.
My name, incidentally, is Charles – but everyone calls me Charlie. I've told you that I'm sixteen, but what else might you like to know? I'm reasonably good-looking – but nothing special; I'm blessedly free of acne; I have brown, slightly curly hair; I like to stay fit, but I do this by playing sport (not to mention all the walking and climbing stairs that helping to run the hotel involves) and not by going to the gym or anything like that. I don't like gyms much, though I don't know if it's the smell or the egos that are worse. I'm average height, average weight…mister average really. I wear a couple of leather thongs around my left wrist, but I don't have any piercings or tattoos. Oh…and I'm gay. And a virgin. I only came out six months ago to Mum after years of trying to pretend that I wasn't. She just smiled and said that was fine. I wish I'd done it earlier, because the side-effect of trying not to be gay is that I've never done anything with another boy – even though I've really wanted to. I hope perhaps I'll meet someone at College. And actually that's another reason for leaving school. It gives me a fresh start. The idea of telling everyone at school I'm gay doesn't appeal to me. But I feel fine about people at College knowing I'm gay right from the start. I'm not going to shout about it, but I won't hide it either. I've also told Chris, my best friend – well, pretty much my only friend, really. He's completely cool with it as well and it hasn't changed anything between us – not even changing together when we go swimming or showering afterwards. He's really nice and he makes me laugh. He has a good body too. I sometimes wish he was gay because I think we'd make a great couple, but he isn't - so that's that.
Anyway, Mum eventually agreed and so I'm off to College in a couple of months time. I guess I'll already be a bit ahead of the curve with the experience I've already got – but I don't want to take anything for granted. In the meantime, it's the summer holidays, so one of the busiest times of the year for the hotel.
As well as Mum and me, the hotel employs a chef and a kitchen helper; two full-time and two part-time girls who make up the rooms each day and do the changeovers; a part-time handyman/gardener; a relief Receptionist and a part-time barman – although once I'm 18 I should be able to take over that job.
The hotel itself is quite smart; it only has twenty bedrooms and they are all individual in style. The rooms aren't cheap and most of our guests are what Mum calls 'PLU' – people like us.
A bit like the two who are coming through the door now. It's funny, but you get pretty good at knowing what people are going to be like within a few seconds of seeing them – although you can occasionally be (embarrassingly) wrong. But the two coming towards reception now will definitely be PLU. One of them is an elegant lady in her late sixties, or so I estimate, and she's accompanied by a good-looking blond-haired boy of maybe 17. Either her grandson or her nephew I reckon. We have a booking for two rooms in the name of Marshall. My bet is that these are the Marshalls.
'Good afternoon. We'd like to check in,' says the lady to me. 'The name is Marshall. Two rooms. This is my grandson.'
She turns and points to the boy who stretches out a hand. I shake it. His hand is warm and dry, and the handshake firm. He smiles at me and I smile back. Close up, he's handsome and we hold each other's gaze a fraction longer than I'd intended.
'Good afternoon, Mrs. Marshall and welcome to Sunnybanks. And welcome to you too,' I say, looking at the boy – who looks back steadily into my eyes.
'Thanks. I'm Luke,' he says with a smile. And what a smile.
'Welcome, Luke.'
'And what's your name?' he asks.
'Charlie…Charlie Douglas,' I say.
'Forgive me, but you seem very young,' says Mrs. Marshall.
'I'm the owner's grandson and the manager's son,' I say, 'I'm sixteen but I've been helping out here for the last two years. I hope that's alright.'
'It's absolutely fine. I admire families who work together. Are there any other guests of my grandson's age staying?'
'None who are currently checked in, but I believe that we have a family arriving tomorrow with two children of fifteen and seventeen.'
'Splendid. I've brought him here for two weeks days while his father – my son – and his wife are away on business. It would be nice for him to be able to make some friends.'
But I'm thinking that I'd be happy to be his friend. Because he is not just quite good-looking, he's sexy in a way that I can't quite put my finger on. And that smile. I'm a sucker for a nice smile. But…he's a guest. And that puts an invisible divide between us.
'Let me show you to your rooms.'
I pick up Mrs. Marshall's case. It's heavy but manageable. I go to take the bag that Luke is carrying.
'No, no…I can manage this, thanks Charlie. I think that Granny's bag is quite enough on its own.'
And then that smile again. And he called me by my name. Some guests do, but most don't. It's nice when they do.
'Well, if you're sure.'
The rooms are both on the first floor, so I lead them to the lift. It's not huge and the three of us and the bags occupy most of the space. Luke is standing behind me and I am aware of his cologne. It smells expensive. Once the doors open, I turn left and they follow. Mrs. Marshall's room is the first we come to. She has booked a room with a balcony that looks out over the sea and, as I open the door, she strides in ahead of me and goes straight to the big double doors that open onto the balcony.
'What a perfectly splendid view…and what a lovely room. I think I shall be very happy here. Now Luke dear, what I need is a little nap, so perhaps…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name…'
'Charlie, ma'am.'
'Ah right…perhaps Charlie could point you in the direction of something to do for an hour or so – once you've settled in.'
'I'm sure I can,' I reply. I wonder what either of them would say if they knew what was going through my mind about exactly how I'd like to spend an hour with Luke.
'And what time is dinner?'
'From seven until nine; would you like me to reserve you a table?'
'Thank you, yes. Would 7.45 suit you, Luke?'
'Ideal, Gran.'
'I'll make the booking for you as soon as I've shown your grandson to his room.'
'Thank you, Charlie. Most helpful.'
Leaving Mrs. Marshall to take her nap, I turn left again out of the door before stopping two doors further down on the other side of the corridor. I pass the electronic key over the pad beside the door and it clicks open. Being on the other side of the corridor, Charlie's room overlooks the gardens rather than the sea.
'I'm afraid that your grandmother didn't book a sea view for you.'
'Oh that's alright. She's very generous, but she enjoys making a point sometimes. Actually she's my step-grandmother but I love her to bits and I'm looking forward to having a couple of weeks by the sea. Although I could do without her making plans for me to make friends with people who'll probably turn out not to be my type at all.'
'What sort of people are your type?'
'People who are fun to be with. Ideally smart as well…but good-natured above all. You seem nice – are you smart?'
'Bright enough, I guess; I'm waiting on the results of my GCSEs; they're due next week.'
'How many?'
'Ten'
'Wow…good grades expected?'
'Hoping for mostly 9s'
'Really? Guess that answers the bright question. What As are you going to do?'
So I explain to Luke about College and about my Mum and the hotel and about my Dad.
'That's amazing, Charlie. And I lost my Dad too. When I was four. He was in the services as well. He was killed in Afghanistan. Sounds like we have a lot in common.'
I can see a hint of wetness in his eyes and we just somehow fall into a hug. I gently pull away from him after a few seconds.
'Staff aren't meant to fraternise with guests,' I say, trying to make a joke of it.
'Sod the rules,' Luke says.
We both laugh.
'Seriously, it would be nice to talk more with you while we're here…if you'd like to.'
'I'd like that a lot, Luke.'
'Good…then we'll find the time. Now…what can a boy do for an hour while his gran is dozing?'
'There's a swimming pool at the back of the hotel if you like swimming, or the beach is only about a five-minute walk away.'
'Swim sounds good.'
'There are changing rooms and showers down there. If you go back to reception and out through the back, turn right and follow the path and you'll come to it.'
'Sounds perfect. Thanks Charlie – and look forward to talking more.'
'Great – I hope you enjoy your stay.'
I leave him unpacking his bag and make my way back to reception. My day just got a whole lot brighter. I hope I get to spend some time with him and get to know him better.
Ten minutes later the lift pings and Luke emerges twirling a pair of bright green and orange swimmers and a pair of goggles. He smiles at me as he walks past on his way to the pool. He looks good enough to eat. I'd love to go and sneak a look at him swimming, but there is a steady stream of guests arriving and I'm soon concentrating on other things.
That evening, I'm helping out by waiting on tables in the dining room. I'm pleased to see that the Marshalls' table is in my section of the room. They come through from the bar on the dot of 7.45. I pull out Mrs. Marshall's chair and then unfold the napkin and put it on her lap.
'Thank you, young man.'
Luke has already sat down and unfolded his own napkin. He smiles at me.
'I hope you enjoyed your swim.'
'I did. Very much. It's a nice pool and it was pleasantly warm as well. Do you get to use it?'
'Not during the season, no sir.'
'Sir? Come on…please Charlie, call me Luke.'
I look across at his grandmother. I know that some guests are funny about this sort of thing. She nods.
'And Mrs Marshall is fine rather than ma'am…not that I don't find your manners most engaging and a welcome change from so many establishments these days.'
I give them both a menu. Chef does a choice of three things for starters, mains and desserts each day. And smoked salmon, steak and ice cream are always available if diners prefer.
Mrs. Marshall consults the menu briefly; she strikes me as the sort of woman who makes up her mind pretty fast.
'I shall have the prawns, followed by the Dover sole. Have you decided Luke?'
Luke looks at me. 'I'll have the pate to start, but I'm a bit torn between the sole and the veal…what would you choose?'
'The sole is excellent – landed fresh this morning, but the veal is delicious. It's local, and the lemon butter sauce chef does with it is a favourite of mine.'
'Then the veal it is. Thank you.'
'Any drinks?'
'I shall have a glass of the house white, please…same for you, Luke?'
'Might I have a beer instead?'
'Of course.'
'Then a pint of Peroni, please.'
I take the food order through to the kitchen and then the drinks order to the bar. Stephen, the barman, pours them and I take them back through to the Marshalls. My grandfather is a bit of a wine buff, and I know that he has taken great care that the house wines are top notch; better, he says, than some of the bottles of supposedly superior wine that are on the list. Mrs. Marshall takes a sip from her glass. I see her eyebrows rise.
'This is really very good,' she says.
'My grandfather's personal selection,' I say.
'You see', she says, turning to Luke, 'this is precisely why these family-run hotels are almost always superior to the big chains and big names.'
I make my way through the swing doors into the kitchen. Chef has their starters ready and I take them back through.
I'm busy with other tables, so apart from clearing away their plates and bringing the next course, I don't have any other interaction with Luke and his grandmother until they are finished.
'Would you like coffee in the lounge?'
'Decaffeinated for me,' says Mrs. Marshall.
'Nothing for me', says Luke '…but is it possible to have a tray of coffee in my room tomorrow morning?'
'Of course,' I say, 'what time would you like it?'
'About 7.30?'
'It will be my pleasure to bring it in person,' I say.
'Great…see you in the morning.'
Once dinner has been served to all the residents and I've helped relay the tables for breakfast, it's getting late. One thing you learn quickly is that late nights leave you tired and when you're tired you're rarely at your best – and guests expect you always to be at your best. So it's off to bed for me.
I shower and hop into the big double bed that occupies most of the floor-space in my bedroom. It's a luxury, but one that I love; the result of a refurbishment of some of the rooms last year. I asked mum if I could swap my single for one of the king-size ones that were being replaced and she agreed. I can spread-eagle myself sideways in it if I want to, but tonight I just lie there, naked as usual, and enjoy my other daily treat – a long slow wank. And the object of my fantasy is Luke. I wonder idly what his cock is like, not that I'm ever likely to know. My climax is more intense than usual and the first spurt of seed makes it as far as my chest. As usual, I scoop up a couple of fingerfuls and swallow it before wiping the rest away with my handkerchief. Relaxed, I turn over and immediately fall asleep.
The alarm goes off at six, and I shower and dress almost by remote control. I'm downstairs in the kitchen at 6.30, putting on the kettle and setting out the five trays for early morning tea and coffee that have been ordered. Two of the trays are for 7 o'clock, then Luke's for 7.30, and then two more for 8 and 8.15. As I take the first tray out to the lift, I see chef arriving and we nod a greeting at each other. Ten minutes later, the first two trays have both been delivered and I busy myself making coffee for Luke. At 7.25, I take the tray, complete with cafetière, cup, milk and sugar out through the hall and summon the lift.
I knock on the door of Luke's room at 7.30 precisely with his tray of coffee as ordered. There's no reply so I let myself in with my pass key. As I enter the room I hear the shower shut off; I guess that was why he hadn't heard the knock. I'd somehow assumed he'd be in bed. Perhaps he's had a disturbed night. I notice that the bedclothes have been roughly pulled back and I can see his clothes hanging loosely over the back of the armchair in the corner of the room. I am making my way to put the tray down on the bedside table when the bathroom door opens and Luke's naked figure emerges. He's towelling his hair with the bulk of the towel over his face, and clearly doesn't know that I'm there. I can't help but stare at his body. He has a fuzz of fine blond hair on his chest which is lightly muscled. His stomach is flat and taut. His groin is hairless, and from it, hanging down some four inches or so, is a fleshy, dark-skinned, circumcised cock. I realise that I'll have to modify my fantasy slightly. His legs are covered with the same light blond hairs as on his chest. He's tanned a golden brown all over - bar a foot or so of paler skin that runs right round the middle of his body marking the limits of his swimming shorts. I don't think I've ever seen anything so sexy.
I cough.
He immediately pulls the towel off his hair – but makes no attempt to cover his groin with it, holding it, instead, in front of his stomach.
'Oh, hi Charlie…sorry, I didn't hear you knock. Just put the tray on the side there.'
He notices me staring at him.
'I hope my being naked doesn't offend you?'
'No…no…' I finally manage to utter, 'you have a great body.'
I can't believe I've just said that. I thought that I was just thinking it. But he cracks a huge smile.
'Well, thank you. And which bits do you like best?'
And now I can't believe that HE's just said THAT.
'Pretty much all of it, I guess.'
He does a twirl. I notice he has a great bum as well.
'Do you often show yourself off to people naked?'
'No. But I'm not embarrassed about being naked. I don't think anyone should be. Are you?'
'Umm, well… I'm not unhappy with my body…but I don't think I could be…I don't think I could, you know, put myself on display like that. I don't have your sort of confidence.'
'Pity. I bet you've got a great body – judging from what I can see. You look fit and trim.'
I blush.
'Thank you…but I'm a bit shy when it comes to….'
'Your dangly bits?
I blush even deeper and just nod.
'Well…we've all got them. Nothing to be shy about really.'
'Not for you, maybe. I mean, I'm not embarrassed about what I've got, if you know what I mean, it's just if I get naked with other people they….develop a life of their own.'
Luke laughs.
'Ah…stiffy trouble. So naked boys arouse you?'
'Luke…I'm gay'.
There I've said it. First person other than Mum or Chris to know. But I somehow know it will be alright.
'Not that I've ever done anything – or not yet. And I'm not in the closet or anything. I've known for ages…even if I didn't admit to myself until last year. And I told my mum six months ago, and I don't want it to be a secret but…so, yes, good-looking naked boys arouse me. Sorry.'
'Sorry? What for?'
'I know you're proud of your body, but I'm sure you don't want to be ogled by a gay boy.'
'And why not? I'm flattered that you find me attractive…I assume you do find me attractive?'
I nod miserably.
'Hey. Don't be so down.'
He walks over towards me, dropping his towel on the way, and stands in front of me, two hands on my shoulders. I can smell the shampoo and shower gel evaporating off his body. Eucalyptus and lime.
'I'm not in the least bit bothered that you're gay. So's my brother. Now look at me.'
I look up into his eyes; up close, they're greeny-brown but with flecks of what look like gold in them as well. They're utterly mesmerising. And then he smiles again. I feel my stomach turn to goo. And my cock to iron.
'For what it's worth, Charlie, I'm bi. And I find you as attractive as I think you find me.'
He looks down. My arousal is all too obvious. He takes one hand off my shoulder and places it gently against the outside of the lump in my trousers and gives it a squeeze. I almost cum on the spot.
I look down and see that he too, has started to harden. I watch as the four inches become five, then six, then seven, and maybe even a touch more, as it jerks slowly upright.
I'm now a conflicted mass of emotions. Luke can see it in my eyes.
'But not now, I think.'
'Sorry…I'm on duty…I…I…'
'I understand. Another time maybe…if you'd like.'
'I…I think I'd like very much…but…I've never….'
'It's OK…we can go on a voyage of discovery together. I'm hardly very experienced myself. And anyway, we 've already promised each other that we'll find time for a chat. Do you have a day off?'
'I have Mondays off…and Thursday afternoons.'
'Then maybe as well as talking, you could show me some of the local sights?'
'I'd love to.'
'And then maybe…some more personal sights?'
I blush furiously.
'It's up to you, Charlie. No pressure. No pressure at all…and if you'd rather forget the last ten minutes altogether, and just get together to talk about all the other things we have in common then that's fine too.'
'Oh no…I definitely don't want to forget the last ten minutes…I don't think I could even if I did.'
Luke laughs – and then kisses me very gently on the lips. I'm shocked, thrilled and taken utterly by surprise.
'I mustn't keep you from your duties. See you Thursday afternoon?'
I nod. 'I'll be behind reception until one o'clock.'
'I'll see you there. Now I must drink that coffee before it goes cold. And thank you for bringing it. And for being honest with me.'
'You're the first one I've told other than Mum and my best friend.'
'Then I'm doubly honoured.'
He smiles. I take a final look at him. At the boy who's just kissed me. His cock has softened to semi-hardness. But I know it will be its full-blown erect form that will occupy my thoughts whenever I masturbate in future. And as for Thursday…
When Thursday comes around, I'm wound up as tight as a clockwork spring. Mum notices and asks if I'm alright. I'm so nervous that I nearly drop a plate of scrambled eggs at breakfast. And I can barely look at Luke as he sits with his grandmother, crunching on a piece of toast. He seems totally at ease. He looks up.
'Hey Charlie…still OK for this afternoon?'
'Sure,' I reply.
I see his grandmother raise an eyebrow.
'It's Charlie's afternoon off, and he's agreed to show me some of the local sights. That's OK isn't it?'
'It's absolutely fine. I'm delighted that you two get along so well. But I hope you're not depriving this charming young man of some well-deserved time off?'
'It will be a pleasure, Mrs. Marshall,' I say.
I look at Luke who simply flicks his eyebrows up and down at me. It's all I can do not to burst out laughing.
'I'll see you at 1,' I say, and hurry off before I can't hold it in any longer.
Sitting at reception, I realise that I've pretty much committed to having sex with a boy I've known for just a couple of days. Am I thinking with my head or my groin? I hope it's my head. I do know that I like Luke as well as fancy him; and that there is a difference. And losing my virginity – if that's what's going to happen - is something I've been preparing for for more than a year. I've been using Mr. Prong (as I've christened the dildo I steeled myself to buy a year ago) regularly. Either way, it will be a conscious decision and not just some drunken mistake after a party.
We have the most wonderful afternoon together. It's a beautiful day, and we decide to go to the beach. We're both wearing our swimmers, and we lie beside one another on beach towels. Luke's orange and green shorts contrast with my blue and yellow ones.
He looks me up and down appreciatively.
'See, I knew you'd have a great body.'
'It's nothing like as good as yours.'
'It is from where I'm lying,' he says.
We each tell the other about our fathers. I realise how lucky I've been at least to have had mine for thirteen years; to have been able to get to know him.
'Maybe,' says Luke, 'but losing my dad at four means that I don't really have any strong memories of him. It doesn't mean I don't wish he was still here, but I never really knew him. You…you must have such strong memories. You must have had plans and all sorts…it must have been so hard for you.'
I look at him.
'It still is, sometimes, Luke. I see something or hear something or smell something that brings him back to me in an instant.'
I can feel myself starting to well up. Luke notices and puts an arm round my shoulder. Just like that. There in front of hundreds of people. He pulls my head onto his shoulder.
'I'm so sorry Charlie.'
'No, no, it's good to talk about him,' I say through the snuffles and tears that have started to fall unbidden down my cheeks, 'and what will people think of you having an arm round me.'
'Who cares what they fucking think. You're upset, and I care about you…why wouldn't I put an arm round you?'
He cares about me. I bury my head deeper in his shoulder and feel him stroking my hair.
'It's OK, Charlie. Really. Now…how about we run into the water and wash all these tears away?'
I nod and we both stand – and then he says 'Race you.'
He takes off, but I'm not far behind – and I can match him stride for stride. He's first into the water, but when it's up to the bottom of his trunks he stops. I don't and I throw myself onto his back, toppling us both into the water. We emerge, shaking the water from our hair…and laughing helplessly.
'You bastard.'
I stick my tongue out at him. And then we're wrestling with each other, crashing and splashing through the waves. His body is warm and taught under my hands and I can feel his strength as he tries to twist me in his arms. He finally succeeds in pushing me under – and then his lips are against mine underwater.
We surface. There's no need for words. We race back to our towels, grab our shorts and run back to the hotel. I take him in through the staff entrance. Chef is on his break and we pad through the kitchen and up the back stairs to my family's private apartment. I know my mother is out until late and that we will have the place to ourselves for several hours. I lead Luke through to my bedroom and lock the door.
'Wow…nice bed.' He looks at me. 'Are you sure about this, Charlie?'
'More sure than I've ever been of anything.'
I rip off my swimmers and stand naked – and achingly erect – in front of him. His eyes widen.
'That's some cock you've got there.'
I suppose it is. I've looked at enough pictures online to know that I've been generously blessed in that respect – but not massively so. I'm maybe an inch or so longer than him and a touch thicker – if my memory of him as he hardened in front of me is correct.
He undoes the string on his own swimmers and steps out of them. He, too, is fully erect. And there is evidently nothing wrong with my memory. He steps over to me and takes me in his arms, chest to chest, groin to groin. I can feel his cock mashed against mine. He kisses me. I feel his tongue flick against my lips and then we are kissing properly. I pull him backwards onto the bed on top of me. He rolls over so that we are side by side.
'May I touch you?' he asks.
'Yes…oh god yes…but…be careful…I think I'm ready to explode at any moment.'
'Me too,' he says.
I feel the touch of his hand as he takes hold of me; the first person other than me ever to have held my cock. It's like a jolt of electricity running through me. I tentatively reach down and take hold of him. The first erection – the first cock of any sort – I have ever held other than my own. It feels amazing. It's both steely hard and velvety soft. It's everything I've dreamed about and more. I feel him start to stroke me.
I could go into details, but I won't. Except to say that this first time is over embarrassingly quickly. For both of us. The good news is that it is only the first time. He shows me how to perform oral sex and then we do it each other at the same time. We take a break for a shower - seawater is surprisingly sticky when it dries…and so's cum. In combination we've almost ended up glued together…and then we go back to bed and do it again. Then comes the best bit, as we just lie with each other, my head on his shoulder and his arms around me as we kiss and cuddle. Eventually I let my hand drift down to his groin.
And he slowly stiffens once again. And I know what I want.
'Luke….I want you inside me. Please?'
'Really?'
'Yes…really.'
'Sure, Charlie…but…I've never done that with a guy before. And if you're a virgin….'
'I am, but I've been preparing myself for it to happen one day - so I don't think it should hurt too much. And I've got lube.'
'And you're sure?'
'Yes Luke. I really like you and I trust you…and everything else we've done so far has been so magical. Please…I've thought about it, and I'm ready to lose my virginity, and I want it to be with you. Please?'
'OK. So how are we going to do this?'
'I want to be able to look at you while we do it. So if it's alright with you, could I be on top?…that way I can control how far and how fast it all happens.'
'Sounds wonderful.'
And it is. Utterly wonderful. I have a great time and Luke has a great time and when he finally erupts inside me it's the best feeling of my life. As he softens inside me, I roll off him.
'Not bad for two virgins, I reckon,' he says.
And we both start to laugh.
'I know I'm the first boy you've…fucked…but have you done all the other stuff with lots of other guys?'
'No…only one other boy, actually.'
'Want to tell me about him?'
I see a slight cloud pass over his face.
'I fear you'll think I'm a pervert if I tell you.'
'I don't think anyone as lovely as you could be a pervert.'
'Hmm. OK. I hope you still feel the same way when I tell you…the only other boy I've had sex with is my brother.'
'Who's gay?'
'Yes.'
'How old is he?'
'He's fourteen now.'
He sees the look on my face.
'I know this is going to sound crazy, but Ben – that's my bro - seduced me on his thirteenth birthday. I woke up to find him sucking my cock. I asked him what on earth he was doing. He just said 'I'm gay, Luke and I've wanted to do this forever. Are you saying you want me to stop?' Well, on the one hand having your thirteen year old bro blowing you is pretty weird, but on the other hand it felt bloody amazing. He said he was going to come out to Mum and Dad later that day, but he wanted to tell me first. And that when he saw me lying there naked – I don't wear pjs and it had been such a warm night I didn't even have a sheet covering me – and with my usual morning stiffy, he just couldn't help himself. Do you think I should have stopped him?'
'I don't know, Luke…if he wanted it I suppose it's OK.'
'I did try one more time - but he just asked me if I'd prefer that he experimented with someone he didn't know…he said that's what he'd do if I said no to him.'
'So was it just that once? I mean, once he'd...you know…come out… didn't he want to find a boyfriend or something?'
'Well, yes, but….he still wanted to do oral with me. And when I said I thought we should stop, he said he'd tell Mum. And the truth is, Charlie, we both enjoy it – and I enjoy blowing him as much as he enjoys blowing me. Worse, I came to realise that I enjoyed it more with him than with my girlfriend. That's why I know I'm bi. Does that disgust you?'
'Umm…no…I guess it's a bit…weird…but…well, why not I guess. If you both want to.' A mischievous thought occurs to me. 'And is it better with me or Ben?'
'That's a daft question. With you of course. A million times better. Look, it's nice with Ben, but it's just a release with him – a good one, but only a release - but with you…it's more, much more. Because I have feelings for you…and not just because you turn me on, though god knows you do, but because you touch me….inside.'
I lay my head on his shoulder and twirl my fingers through the fuzz on his chest.
'And I have feelings for you too, Luke.'
'That makes me very happy.'
'Me too.'
His cock is lying, thickly limp across his thigh. It's beautiful and I can't resist. I take hold of it.
'Be gentle, Charlie, it's taken a bit of a pounding.'
I stroke him very gently - and slowly, very slowly, I feel him start to swell and stiffen in my hand.
'I can't believe I'm getting hard again.'
'We're teens. Horny teens. And I guess we just can't help ourselves.'
I fondle his balls.
'I'm not sure there's anything left in them, Charlie.'
'Only one way to find out.'
'Sex maniac.'
'Are you complaining?'
'Nope.'
I want him inside me again, and he's happy to oblige. It takes a lot longer – but I would happily have him inside me for ever so I don't care.
Afterwards he strokes me to my own final climax.
We shower – and realise how sore we both are. Once we've dried off, I find some cooling and moisturising cream and we rub it into each other. Neither of us gets even a little bit hard.
We look at the time and reluctantly realise that we need to get dressed. We have a final kiss and cuddle and then I pull on a clean shirt and a pair of shorts from my cupboard, while Luke slips his swimmers back on ready to return to his room.
'When can I spend time with you again, Charlie?' he asks.
'I've got Monday off,' I say.
'Can we…that is…would you like to…'
'Yes please, Luke,' I say.
There's no need for any more words.
I lead him back through the kitchen and out into the reception area. By chance, his grandmother is coming up the steps into the hotel from the other direction. She sees us and comes over.
'Thank you for spending time with my grandson; I hope you didn't find it too hard.'
Luke looks at me and just raises an eyebrow fractionally. It's all I can do not to laugh out loud.
'Not at all, Mrs. Marshall. It's been a real pleasure getting to know him.'
'We've had a wonderful afternoon together, Gran. Charlie's taken care of me like you wouldn't believe.'
He flashes me a grin.
'Well, you've obviously both been out enjoying the sun. I hope you remembered to drink plenty of liquid.'
'Charlie's kept me well supplied with fluids, Gran,' says Luke, looking all innocently at me, 'and Gran, would it be OK if he and I spent Monday together…it's his day off.'
'Well, if that's alright with Charlie it's alright by me…but he may have better things to do.'
'I'd love to spend more time with Luke,' I say.
'Very well then. Now Luke, you need to go and get changed…dinner's only an hour away and I'm sure you'll want to wash off all the salt and sand.'
'OK Gran, and you're right...I do seem to be a bit sticky. And thanks, Charlie, for a wonderful afternoon'.
'My pleasure, Luke.'
And it has been.
Lying in bed that night, I don't feel guilt or regret – just happiness. Maybe sex with Luke has happened fast, but it doesn't feel wrong. It feels very, very right.
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