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It's Only Me from Across the Sea

This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between the characters in it. Although the characters are teenagers who may be below the age of consent in the country or state where this is read, nothing written here should be taken as approval of, or encouragement for, sexual liaisons between people where such liaisons are either illegal, or objectionable for moral reasons. Although this story does not include safe sex practices, it is everyone's own responsibility to themselves and to each other to engage only in PROTECTED SEX. It is a story. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Nothing represented here is based on any fact known to the author.

The story is copyright 2001 by "It's Only Me from Across the Sea". If you copy the story, please leave the credits, and the web address of present, and also the email address of I'd love to receive feedback.

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So, hand in hand, two boys who had just found something very special walked along the practice fairway, hidden so far from the road, hidden for the world, hidden from all but each other. The grass sloped gently away from the road, letting them feel that the traffic to their right, never heavy at the best of times, was in another world. About halfway to the golf club itself there was a dip on the left, and they found themselves heading away from the road and up the other side to where there was a grassy space that Gilberts sometimes used for British Bulldogs.

The taller boy looked at the other, the one by his side, holding his hand. "Jake," he said. Nothing else. Just the name. It was as though he was trying it on for size. "Jake." A satisfied sound. Happy. And as though he knew why his name was being said, Jake didn't answer. He looked in a world of his own, simply connected at the wrist with the older boy. From a distance neither looked older, neither younger. It was only close to that you could see that Jake wasn't as old as Pete. They looked, acted, like equals, not as they were, which was one a couple of years older than the other, and watching them walk quietly together you would never have known unless you could see the hands joined together that they were in love, and that they'd just each had both the most wonderful and the most awful experience in the same five minutes. "Jake." He said it finally with a smile that glowed. "This is quiet, private almost. We've plenty of time. Let's sit here and get our breath back."

"Pete, this feels like a dream." Jake sat, not beside, not in front of Pete Mould, legs in front of him, knees raised, arms hugging his knees. He looked small and vulnerable suddenly. "It started out horrible. I like the ending. I like it a lot."

"Me, too. Have you any idea what it's been like, loving you, watching you, knowing it was totally impossible? Knowing that the second I told you that you'd hate me? Only you don't hate me. And I can't believe it."

Jake told Pete then of all that had been going through his mind. "I didn't know I was gay until I saw Charlie," he said. And he went on to describe the awful pangs, the longings, the fear of being so different. "The day of the house match, Pete, in the showers. I nearly didn't get away with it... "

"What d'you mean?" They were looking sort of sideways into each other's eyes.

"I don't mind telling you now. Anyone else I'd die if they knew, but not you. I got hard. Had to escape. I was learning very suddenly at that moment that I found boys very interesting. Well, it was Charlie that did it. There's something about him."

"So that's why you rushed off all flustered when I came in for a pee." There was a broad smile on Pete's face, and a sort of amused wink.

"That was you, was it? Funny thing is, Pete, it doesn't matter now. I mean it matters about the others, it would matter like hell getting hard in the shower, but not for you. At least I don't think it will. No, I know it won't. Because I want... " Jake's eyes turned to the ground in embarrassed confusion. Not for the first time those few days he blushed bright red. "I meant I don't know what I want. Only I do."

"I don't think that bit's too important. Jake I mean it. I love you. With all of me. I have since I first noticed you at Knaresbrough. I didn't know how much I'd missed you until we were apart for the two years after I left. And seeing you here, that first roll call. It was like being given my life again, though I didn't know I'd lost it."

They sat still for ages. Tea was a good way off, and wasn't compulsory anyway, though boys coming back from outside the school after tea were usually treated with suspicion and sniffed at suspiciously for smoke or alcohol. The autumn weather hadn't yet gone chill, and it was like late summer sitting there on the grass, all private yet totally public at the same time. There was a lot of stuff to talk about. Pete didn't want to spoil things by rushing, yet at the same time was bursting to take Jake into his arms and to hold him tight. He had in mind to run his hands through his hair, and to kiss him, and to feel the muscles through his torn rugby shirt.


"Mmm." He'd been in a reverie, totally elsewhere, looking at his friend, his love, seeing him, and dreaming about him at the same time.

"I've not been in love ever before. It feels very odd."

"Meaning?" A gentle smile.

"Well, it's hard to explain. It's so fast, sudden, huge. One minute I was feeling betrayed. Then I ran as fast as I've ever run, wanting to get away. And then you yelled. Almost tripped me over, the yell was like a tripwire... And... Well, and then you put your arms round me. And then you told me. I hadn't expected it, Pete, hadn't expected it, but it felt, no, it feels so good. I can't describe it. But I'm breathless, sort of."

"Do you want to, well, wait, or slow down, or stop?" The voice was calm, but Pete's body was suddenly tense.

"I don't know. I really don't know. No, I do know. I think I'd like you to kiss me again. And to feel your arms round me again. You made me melt. I want to melt again. And I want to know how you know you're gay. And how we're going to dare to be a couple in school. And Pete?" Jake paused, his face questioning the older boy.

"What, my love?"

"I don't know how to make love. I mean I never, I'm not, oh I've never so much as touched another boy. Nor girl. And I don't know what to do... But I want to feel your hands on me. Pete, I want to make love to you, and I don't know how, or what I want, or anything. And I want you and I want to learn, and I love you, and I don't want to be gay, but if I'm gay I want to be gay with you." He stopped, not finished, but not able to say more. He hadn't moved. They were still sitting at ninety degrees to each other and he was still hugging his knees.

"I'm not too sure about any of it. I know I'm gay, but I don't know how I know. It's just, well, normal, no natural, no, it's how I am. I'm pretty nervous too, you know."


"Because I'm worried that I'm doing something to you, to make you what I want. I'm older than you. Well, you know that bit. But I mean I'm worried in case I'm seducing you. Jacob, I don't want you to be my boyfriend unless you know what you want. And if you know, if you're sure, then I want to kiss you again. God I want to kiss you again. I've always wanted to kiss you, Jake, always... "

"Does your heart beat as though it's coming out of your chest? Does it make it hard to breathe?"

"All of that, yes."

"Then it's love. And I do know. And I want you. And I like the idea of being boyfriends. I'm still scared, still very nervous, still don't know how to be a boyfriend. But I want to be yours. Please, Pete? And please, please kiss me. Now. Here. Only properly this time."


"Stand up." Jake was already standing, and he held out his hand, lifting Pete to his feet with the power of his love, not using strength at all.

They stood, green grass at their feet, tree screened on three sides, not caring who passed, or if anyone passed on the path on the fourth side of the clearing. And their eyes met. Starting two arms' lengths apart each drew the other slowly to him, eyes never leaving eyes, until they were chest to chest, a millimetre apart. And Jake offered his lips to his older friend, and breathed the words "Now, Pete. Please." And they touched lips.

A passionate kiss, totally passionate and slow, lingering. Lips alone at first, tasting, exploring, testing, wondering what happened next. Hesitant, a little clumsy, arms round each other, loose at first and then with boldness tighter until movement was impossible. And the very tip of the tongue. Pete was amazed that Jake was so bold, but he felt the tip of a tongue flick into his mouth and withdraw like a snake testing the air. And that was enough. He held Jacob with every fibre of his body and every piece of his emotions as he drove his tongue back to find the intruder.

Jake found his mouth filled with tongue, and drove his own back to fight it, and pulled his lover to him as they stood in the clearing with the late afternoon sun on them, and felt Peter's body tight and masculine against his own. And found that something very hard indeed was grinding into his belly and fighting for space with his own hardness.

They fought for position, standing there, and kissed and ground into each other as though the world would end if they stopped kissing and embracing. Peter felt his love tense suddenly and gasp "Oh no! Oh God no!" and try to pull away.


"You'll hate me."

"What?" More urgent now.

He was out of breath. Jake's breathing was harsh and he was pulling his body away. "I've had an accident."

"What do you mean?" Naïve, but a reasonable question.

"I've come. It was so exciting, so awesome and I just came. In my jockstrap." He was blushing.

"Wow! That's awesome! I wish I had too!"

"You do?" Hesitant.

"Oh Jacob. Have you any idea how good it makes me feel to have given you that? To have made you come? Have you any idea how good that makes me feel?"

Jake took this in. Slowly. It wasn't what he'd expected to hear. He'd thought it was a bit like wetting the bed - not something you did if you were almost an adult. "Well, no, not really. I thought you'd be upset or something. I read a book, once. Simon Raven wrote it. Fielding Gray, stupid name, and his boy, the one he wanted, Christopher. And they were at school and in a boathouse, I think. And Christopher came too soon, and it all went wrong after that and Christopher killed himself. And I got scared."

"I think it's a huge compliment. I know the book. We did it for English. It sucks. Christopher was a prat and Fielding bloody Gray needed his head examined. I mean fancy worrying if a beautiful boy has an orgasm when you kiss him! I love you, you dolt. Love. L O V E." He spelt it out with the letters individually. "I want to help you to have so many orgasms, but Jake, please promise me that you'll remember this one? Please? With happiness?"

"Damned hard to forget a soggy jock!" Jake was smiling again. "It felt so good. It happened before I realised. It was amazing. If it was that good kissing, then what's it going to be like when you touch me? I want that. Not now. Later." He thought for a moment. "What about you?"

"Ah." He looked thoughtful. "Well, I wont pretend I don't want the same thing, but we haven't time. Not now. Not yet. And I want to take time and touch you all over. Oh Jake... I never knew it could be like this. Never. I hoped. I prayed, but I never knew."

"Can we really do this? At school? I mean we'll be sort of famous, only in the wrong way."

They'd started walking back, hand in hand again. Jake to Pete's right. Out towards the road, Updown Lane, that led past Elthorn College up to and across the downs. "I'm not sure. The thing is, you have three more years here. I've got one. It's up to you. Right now I'm so happy I could go public and shout for joy and broadcast us to the world."

"My folks'll go ape, I think. And DH'll probably try to separate us."

"Makes sense to keep quiet then. Only, well, unless you want to play act, I don't see why we can't spend a lot of time together. Pretending to avoid each other'll be really difficult. And we've got the house matches as a good excuse to spend time together and stuff. 'Planning'."

"Training runs!"

"Prat, don't you remember the cold winds on the downs?"

Jake giggled. Delightful giggle, soft, his whole body giggled as the sound escaped. "We'll think of something."

They carried on down the hill, walking together, but somehow, as they reached the school boundary, their hands slipped apart. In at the second gate and down the hill past the bio block to their right and the tuckshop to their left, they headed for the boxroom. Which led to a potential major problem. "You know, I don't see quite how to take a shower at the same time as you just right now," Pete whispered to Jake. "You need one. That graze needs cleaning. I'll wait and take you to matron to get some stuff for it."

"Don't fuss. It'll be fine."

"I still want to take you to matron and get it looked at. You're mine and I'm going to look after you." He was suddenly lover, father and older brother, all wrapped into one. And Jake agreed, after a few more protests. Pete needn't have worried. It was only a graze. The shower cleaned it up and matron tutted and put some antiseptic on it, and told Pete he was worrying about nothing, but thanked him for bothering.

School stuff separated them after that. Plans to spend a lot of time together or not, it just wasn't possible, at least that Thursday, to spend time together.

There was one person Jake wanted to avoid, but he met him in the Quad. He was going to check on the noticeboards and coming back was John. There was no way of avoiding him. It wasn't that Jake wanted to avoid John because of Charlie. Well, in a way it was. Jake was embarrassed in a way. He'd not meant to stumble on John in that way. Charlie no longer mattered, but John was his friend. It was just that, well, it felt odd. It hadn't been meant to be seen. And John looked more than embarrassed.

Their 'hello' was unusually subdued. "You won't tell anyone?" John was very to the point. He looked very worried.

Jake wondered whether to string him along for a while. He decided against it. "It's a private thing, John, ok?"

"I'm not a poof, you know!" He sounded defensive.

"It's not important. I don't mind if you are. You're still my mate."

John still needed to explain. It's not every day you get caught in flagranté delicious, and certainly not with a seductive, beautiful, sensual, sexy creature like Charlie Nelson. Not that there was another boy like Charlie Nelson. Not for miles. "Jake, he seduced me. I'm not like that. I'm just not."

"What was it like?"


"Doing a sixty nine with Charlie? What was it like?"

"You thinking of trying it? Is that why you yelled and ran? Jealous?"

"Nope. Just wanted to know, that's all. Heck, John, we've told each other pretty much everything while we've been mates. I just wanted to know. I mean I told you what it was like the first time I wanked and stuff. Fair trade!"

"Well, it was awesome. Like really awesome. It felt like nothing on earth. I can't make my cock feel like that. It was so intense, made me squirm. I couldn't take it, only I wanted it. Badly. I forgot he was a boy, I just wanted him to carry on. Only you arrived. Damn I wanted him to finish."

"Sorry." Jake meant it. "I didn't mean... I thought it was a shirt... I didn't expect, well no-one would... "

"Scared me. I'm glad it was you, though. Then Pete Mould ran past as you ran off, looking like the devil was at his heels. Looked as though he was trying to catch you up. Did he?"

"Eventually." Jake didn't know how much to tell his friend. Buy John went back to an unanswered question.

"Why'd you yell out? And then run? I mean we were the ones who were scared. Well I was. Charlie didn't seem to mind at all. He laughed for ages afterwards."

"Dunno." Slightly taciturn. "We'ell... " Wondering if he dared. "No."

"You can't do that."


"Start to tell me something and then stop." John thumped his friend affectionately on the back. "Go on, spit it out. It won't kill you."

"Well... " Unsure. "Only, John, if this gets out I promise I'll kill you. Not here. Walk with me round the chapel. This is too public." They walked, cutting through the school buildings to get to the front drive.

"This is private enough. Come on, if it's that secret the I'm bursting to know."

Jake looked around. Years of practice had taught him that an obvious scan of the horizon was always better than a furtive one. Everyone else was far enough away to make it totally private. Hiding in plain sight was always the best policy. Somehow if you went to private places, hidden places, then someone always found you and decided the worst about you. "John, this is dead private."

"Look, you idiot, you caught me and Charlie on the downs. I'm not exactly going to give your secret away am I? Not with that hanging over me."

"True." He still hesitated. John had done far more than he'd done yet, and though it was just casual fun, forbidden but casual, somehow being in love and knowing he was gay made it harder to speak. "Well, I was a bit jealous. No, that's not true. I was a lot jealous. Of you. There was something about Charlie, something that hit me between the eyes when I first saw him."

"Me, too. Look, I'm not gay, but he's so beautiful, so seductive that anyone would want him."

"I am."

"You mean you do. 'I am' sounds wrong."

"No. I mean it. You aren't. I am."

"What?" John had turned to look at Jake.

"Gay. I'm gay"

"No you're not."

"John, I am. It was seeing Charlie made me know it for the first time."

"Look, he sucked me and I sucked him, and he's great company, and I'll do it again if he'll let me, but that doesn't make me gay. So you can't be gay either." Their voices were low. This was a serious subject, and old, old friendship meant they could really trust each other. "I like girls. A lot. So do you. You and I talk about them all the time."

"Please listen. Please hear me. Please, John. I know I'm gay. And it isn't Charlie. He just showed me. Well seeing him just showed me."

"What, like you want to go the whole way with a boy?" John's voice held wonder and amazement, but not shock, nor any hint of despising his friend. He almost sounded as though he admired him, was half envious.

"I think so, yes."

"Er, not me, I hope?" It came with a smile.

"Not you. No, not you." Jake was wondering how far he could go. "I mean I actually know I love you as my friend, but not to do stuff with. I mean we never have, after all. I never wanted to. Still don't. I need you as my friend."


"You won't tell a soul?"


"Not even Charlie?"

"No-one, Jake. No-one. I swear on my mother's grave!"

"She's still alive!"


"Look, stop pissing about, ok?" He was still half decided, half wondering.

"Sorry. I promise. I won't tell a soul."

"Well, on the way back this afternoon... This is suddenly very difficult. It was easy to tell you I'm gay. But I'm in love, John. I found out today, in the middle of being jealous of you for, well, you know... "

John stayed quiet. Instinct told him that interrupting now would stop Jake from finishing. And he suddenly needed to know.

As the silence became deafeningly loud, Jake continued, "well, I heard footsteps behind me. And my name being yelled, and I tripped over, sort of, and, well found arms round my shoulder. And I kissed him."

"Kissed? Wow. That must be love. All we were doing was sex!" Light dawned. "Pete? It was Pete?"

"I love him, John. He's so handsome, and kind and gentle, and he loves me."

"Er, have you thought this through?"


"Well, I don't want to upset you."

"I don't think you can. John, I feel complete, and I'm in love. And he loves me. I'm happy. I didn't think I was going to tell anyone, but it seems so right to tell you."

"Ok." John looked thoughtful though. "Jake?"


"Well, it's just that Pete's going to leave at the end of this year. And you've got two more years after that. Without him."

"We'll sort that out. That's just details."

"And then there's school holidays."

"We'll cope. Anyway, that's in the future." Nothing was going to spoil Jake's mood. Not a thing.

"And how will you be together during the term? DH gets everywhere. You won't be able to be alone... "

"You're running out of problems. Good. Thanks John."

"Look, I think we've known each other long enough. I don't mind if you're gay. I'm still your mate. Not everyone's going to feel the same though, so keep it quiet until you're ready to tell anyone."

"Thanks." They walked for a while in silence.



"Who's going to do what? Who's going to be the girl?"

"Don't think either of us are."

"Well you can't both be boys can you?"

"Heck I don't know, John. I just want to be with him. For ever. Anyway, we can be what we want. I'm not suddenly effeminate, am I? Don't you dare answer that!"

"Prat. No, you aren't. You don't get effeminate scrum halves!"

"Mind you," Jake said, "Pete isn't either." He looked thoughtful. John's thoughts had been getting through to him. "John?" He suddenly sounded half nervous.

"Sounds serious. What?"

"Well, two things I suppose. I mean what does sperm taste like? And how the heck do you get a cock into an arse? I mean they're big things."


"But you were sucking Charlie."

"You interrupted, you twit! And as for the second bit, I suppose it just works. I mean it stands to reason. If it didn't work, then no-one'd be doing it, would they?"

"I s'pose." He didn't sound too sure.

"Cold feet?"

"No. No!"

"I'm teasing! I shouldn't be. I'm sorry. Look, I'm happy you're in love. And I don't know Pete very well, but if he's all you want, and if you're sure you're gay, then, heck Jake, go for it!"

"You know," Jake mused, "I didn't think I needed anyone's approval, but that means a lot. A real lot. Thanks."

They'd got all round the chapel. For the second time. "Are we going to keep doing laps of this driveway?"

"Have we done more than one?"

"Twice at least!"

"I never noticed." He was laughing. "Thanks, John."

"Hey, no worries, ok? We've been mates a heck of a long time. I mean this was a surprise all right, but it's fine. You gonna introduce me to your fiancé?"

"Not yet! Heck, it's supper. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure." And they split, each going to different dining halls, split up for the night by protocol and house rules.

Jake was happier than he'd been in his life. And while he'd been with John, Pete had simply been attending to house duties. Juniors to supervise for early prep. After supper he'd be free to finish his own work. At supper he'd have to play it cool, but he wanted to shout his joy from the rooftops. No long time friend to confide in like Jake, Pete had no real desire to tell anyone else. Instead he was trying to work out how to be with Jake as much as he wanted, needed.

He was pretty nervous too. If he'd had anyone to talk to he'd have been asking the same questions that Jake'd asked John. You don't lose your virginity at school. Well, some people did, but not Pete. He was so closeted that he'd never done any of the stuff that so many other boys had. The only sex Pete had ever had was with himself. And he had no idea what was expected. He wondered idly if Jake knew what he wanted to do. in the end he settled for the wisdom of waiting until they could be alone, and then working it out together. If only they could work out how to be alone, that was. But then as House Captain, surely he could work something out.

He mulled the problem over at supper. The only conversation with Pete that suppertime was monosyllabic grunts. He failed to solve it by the end of supper. He failed to solve it as he sat in his study bedroom not managing to do his prep. He failed to solve it as he did the final rounds of the juniors, and he failed to solve it as progressive year groups went to bed. Nor was he getting any closer to a solution at eleven, when he finally finished the evening and turned into bed.

All that was on his mind was Jake, his beautiful Jake, and how Jake has kissed him, and how he'd asked for another kiss on the downs, and how he'd felt in his arms, almost bird like with nerves, but determined, wanting to be with him, needing the touch, wanting it. Twelve midnight came and went, and Pete managed to doze off. And dreamed of Jake, kissing him, and Jake's hands stroking him, and moaned gently in his dream as he felt the dream lover kiss his forehead.

"I love you, Peter." The words invaded his dream, making him want to stay asleep. He forced himself to stay asleep, wanting to dream about more and more of his beautiful friend. He felt the kissing again and again and reluctantly came to the surface, dream gone, broken, sweating slightly, and very hard.

"I love you Peter." The words came again, but he was awake. Jake's voice. Jake's breath warm on his neck. "I thought you'd never wake up."


"Shh, you'll wake someone."

"What time is it?"

"Late. About half past twelve. I wanted to be with you."

"I thought you were a dream."

"I'm not. I was dreaming earlier. Or thought I was. I wasn't dreaming, was I?"

"If you were, then I was in the dream. Jacob Peterson, I love you. Please come and kiss me again." He moved over, flipping the duvet back, leaving Jake room to snuggle beside him.

Jake snuggled in, and was in Pete's arms almost as the words finished. "I love you, Pete. I don't know how to make love. I've never... "

"Shh. Nor have I." And the two boys were lost on each other's arms, lost in kisses so soft, so powerful that it was as though no-one had ever kissed before. Kissing every part of each other's faces, tongues fighting for mouthspace, lips nibbling, noses bitten gently, necks nuzzled and nibbled, earlobes nibbled, tingling all over. And their arms around each other, hands clasping tight.

Jake marvelled at the strength of the older boy, and Pete found the same, for he'd expected a yielding softness, not the firm, muscled back that Jake's rugby had given him, and he loved it. Jake was feeling suddenly so safe in the strong arms of his boyfriend. And instinct was taking over as they held each other tight, and their hands moved to where they were each so excited and pressing, grinding into each other. "This time, Jake, I want this to be on purpose. I know what I want to do."

"Anything. Oh anything."

Pete slipped lower in the bed, and pushed Jake's soft sleep shorts down, and found the hardness he knew so well from the showers when it was soft, standing there, right by his nose. And he took the tip into his mouth, feeling the head peeping through the pucker at the tip of Jake's beautiful foreskin. "Wait." Jake's voice filtered into his ears. "I want to do the same for you. I'm a bit scared, but I want to do the same. I'm really nervous, Pete. Because I want to be so good for you."

"So am I, but it doesn't matter, because I love you. And nothing can go wrong if I love you and you love me. Hold on, I'll turn round."

And they were belly to belly, mouth to beautiful boyhood, each ready. "You smell so nice. It's hard to explain," Jake murmured as he buried his nose in his lovers pubic hair. "It's familiar, sort of, but not. I've never smelt raw boy before. I love it."

"You smell of soap," was his reply.

"It isn't soap." And with that Pete took Jake into his mouth and very gently peeled his drum tight foreskin back with his lips. He felt the sleek young body quiver in his arms, and he remembered to go slow.

Jake felt Pete's hard cock against his face. A scent like nothing he'd met before, and damp, dripping already with the excitement he knew his lover was feeling. It was large, unexpectedly large, hot, and with a life of its own, somehow. He wanted it in his mouth, but it felt a strange thing to do. Experimentally his tongue dabbed the tip and was rewarded with the salt taste of the droplets, and found it drew him onwards. Even average sized, Jake supposed it was average sized, Pete's cock seemed huge as he opened his mouth to try to absorb it, finding that his lover's foreskin slipped back easily to reveal the head, the rim finding its way into his mouth. And then he knew. Knew what he wanted to do.

Almost at the same time Pete had decided to lick and suck the pulsing pillar of flesh in his mouth, finding as he sucked that Jake's excitement created the same salt taste that Jake had already found.

Faster, each boy moved, licked and sucked harder and faster. Not for a long time, but for the most intense time each felt his insides tighten as the waves of pressure built deep inside from where another day they would each find the other's special place, and forced its way down and along the thick cocks each had in his mouth and fired through the tip into the waiting mouth.

Jake was surprised by the taste, slightly bitter, not salt as he'd expected, nor sweet as he'd half expected anything from Peter to be, yet not unpleasant. And the spurting, though not huge, made him struggle to swallow. Nothing would induce him to spit out this offering of Peter's love for him. Nothing. And Peter returned the compliment, surprised as Jake by the textures and flavours he knew he wanted, but had never expected to receive, and as surprised by the jets hitting the back of his throat.

"Oh wow!" Pete was the first to recover the ability to speak. And he twisted round to have his head on the pillow that he'd deserted to take Jake into his mouth. "Wow!" And he kissed Jake before he could say a word, though still both panting. Oh Jakey, you're wonderful. So wonderful. I love you so much."

"'Jakey'? I'll get you for that. Jakey indeed." And his hand found Pete's balls and started to squeeze.

"Ok, I give up! Not Jakey, then." They were both giggling, trying to be silent, trying to be so quiet, wondering if they'd woken anyone with their adventure, with their finding each other, with the first orgasm each had knowingly given the other, had received from the other.

"That was amazing. Will it always be like this?"

"I hope so. Oh yes, I hope so. I love you so much, Jacob. I never knew it could be like this."

"Nor me. It's so fast. Oh Pete... I want to be with you for ever." And comfortable in each other's nearness, they fell into the doze that comes after wonderful, total, mutual pleasure.

British Bulldogs is a peculiar game. All the boys except one line up on one side of the playing area, in line abreast. The line does a military charge across the playing area and has the objective of reaching the other side unscathed. The odd boy out stands at the midpoint of the pitch. His objective is to catch and floor at least one other boy during the charge. Once floored, his victim becomes an extra catcher, and stands in the middle to catch others during the next charge. The last boy caught is declared the winner. His prize? To be the first catcher for the next round. It is great fun. Mind you, depressingly I broke someone's arm when playing in my schooldays, on that patch of green grass, while at 'Elthorn College'.

This is the first time I've tried to tell a story as an onlooker, as a third, invisible, person. It's not the way I find easiest to write, so it's an experiment. I'm not sure whether it works or not, but the whole "Nice Try" series has been an experiment anyway.

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