Devon and Kent

by Ivor Slipper

Chapter 2

So, where should I begin? I'm sure you don't want to know all my history- that would be just boring – so just a brief outline ought to suffice. My father runs his own printing business and we live in a small village a few miles outside Truro. I have two sisters, Chloe who is a couple of years older than me and Olivia who is a couple of years younger. Our house is large and apparently once belonged to the local squire. I sometimes think my dad considers himself to be the current squire.

Although I started off attending the village school, dad soon decided he didn't want me mixing with the local kids, so at the age of eight I was enrolled in the independent Truro School. Of course it was a fee paying school, but that didn't bother dad. It is a boarding school, but mum put her foot down and declared right from the start that she didn't want her little darling to be a boarder. She wanted him to live at home and just be a day boy. That was easily possible as the village still had a railway station and there was a train every morning that would get me to school on time, as well as a couple that I could come home on afterwards.

At the beginning I was quite happy to be a day boy, but by the time I'd become a teen I often wished I was boarding. I knew I was gay by the time I was about twelve. It was only pictures of boys that interested me, especially those in shorts or, especially, speedos. That Tom Daley really turned me on! But actually doing anything about it other than looking at pictures and wanking, was another matter. I just thought that if I was a boarder there would have to be opportunities for something more than that.

There was though this one occasion that happened when I was sixteen. Some old friends of my father came to stay with us for a weekend, bringing with them their son, Harry, who was a couple of years older than me and just about to start at university. He was tall, slim, athletic and very good at sport. We had a tennis court in the grounds, although it didn't get that much use. Dad rarely had time to play, but I would sometimes get roped in by Chloe to give her some practice because she was quite good and needed someone to hit with. I suppose I was like a glorified ball boy, but with a racquet, because if we played seriously, I might get a point or two in a game, but would rarely win one.

Chloe happened to be away that weekend and on the Sunday, it having been wet on the Saturday, Harry asked me if I fancied a game. I told him I wasn't any good, but he said he hadn't played tennis for a couple of years because he was concentrating on rugby and cricket. So, we agreed to give it a go – especially as it was that or going for a walk with the respective oldies.

I told him I'd meet him on the court. When I got here he hadn't arrived so I busied myself setting the net to the correct height. I finished that and looked up to see him arriving. Now, I was dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of blue soccer shorts. He also was wearing a white t-shirt, but his shorts were something else! I felt myself going hard as I looked – well stared would be better word. They were black, shiny, and short; no make that very short.

"Sorry, Devon I appear to have only packed my old running shorts."

"That's alright. It's not Wimbledon."

He laughed. "Indeed. No little ball boys to fetch our balls for us."

Was he hinting at something I wondered. His package certainly filled those shorts and I was sure he wasn't looking at my face as he spoke. I'm not sure what possessed me when I answered.

"No, we'll just have to play with our own."

"Always more fun to play with someone else's, Devon. Are yours new?"

"They've been played with a few times." I answered with a grin.

"Men's doubles or mixed?"

"Definitely men's but only singles."

He laughed. "Men's is best, but doubles are much more fun than singles, you should try it some time."

I was sure now he was offering me an invitation to something other than a game of tennis. This could be the chance I'd been looking for.

"Finding a decent partner round here is a problem though." I replied.

"Yeah, I guess it would be out here and at your age." He looked directly at me, then down at my groin and then back at my face.

"Shall we toss for service?" he asked with a grin.

That simply confirmed my thoughts. The word should have been 'serve', he'd very deliberately used another. I decided I wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

"Haven't got a coin in my pocket and you wouldn't have room for one in those shorts of yours." He snorted. "But I've got an old lucky half crown in my bedroom. We could go up there and see if it works."

I had indeed got an old half crown there given to me a good few years ago by my gran. Most people had never seen one, many indeed had never heard of it seeing it went out of circulation in 1970, a year before decimalisation.

"Mmm...sounds good to me."

He walked towards me, placed one hand on my bum, the other in the small of my back and pulled me towards him. I could feel his erection pressing into my stomach.

"Let's hope it comes down heads."

The tennis was forgotten, but in the next hour or so I had some lessons I'd never forget. For the first time I found out what it felt like to have another person's fingers on my prick and how different it was when that hand brought me to ejaculation. After that I quickly learnt what pleasure I could get from pleasuring another person. Then, after a brief interlude while we lay side by side on my bed and talked about our hopes for the future and various other things, I had my second lesson. Being stroked to ejaculation was one thing, being blown there was...well, mind blowing! I did also return that favour. Harry expressed pleasure at my efforts, but I knew they were nowhere near as good as his. He did point out that we all had to start somewhere.

That was all we did. He never attempted to take things further. And it was the only time we ever did it. I did see Harry on a couple more occasions, but there was never an opportunity for any action between us. That was sad in some ways, but it did remain as a precious memory of a summer Sunday afternoon in which I won't say my life changed, but its direction was definitely confirmed. Harry had said that the best way in which I might find a doubles partner would be to go to university. Luckily I was quite bright, so once I'd decided to follow his advice I studied even harder at school. My 'A' level grades were such that I had the chance to choose which of three universities I would attend. Once the offer came from Sussex, I jumped at it. Brighton had a reputation as a gay friendly town so even if I didn't find anyone at the uni's gay club, there'd be a good chance of finding someone in the town itself.

It all happened quickly too. The LGBTQ Society was very active and held many events. I'd gone along to a film evening which were held every week and dropped in at a coffee morning. I'd talked to a few guys – and girls – but nobody had set my pulses racing. I spotted an ad for what was called a 'Piers and Queers Brighton Tour', and was said to be a gay guided tour of the town. It sounded as if it had potential, plus which I'd get to see a lot of the town, and especially its gay friendly parts, so I decided to go along.

While I'd seen a few of the small group who had assembled there wasn't anyone I spotted who I'd said more than 'Hi' to previously. It wasn't looking too promising and I did briefly consider not going with them when they set off, but I told myself it would be sensible to go tag along as by doing so I'd find where some of the supposedly good gay places could be found.

"Fuck me, didn't think I was gonna make it. Bleedin' bus were late."

I turned to look at who had spoken and that was my first real sight of Ken. He was a few inches shorter than me, but then I am about six foot three inches, so that wasn't too surprising. He was thin, almost skinny I suppose, with a narrow face. His head was virtually shaved. He was wearing a dark grey sweatshirt, very skinny blue denims that were bunched over the tops of his black converse high tops.

"Hi, I'm Devon. You first year too?"

"Yeah. I'm Ken. Good to meet ya. Don't reckon I know any of this crowd, so shall we stick."

"Me neither. Why not."

So we did and by the end of the tour it felt like we'd known each other for ages. When the group tour ended we decided to go and have a burger and the burger needed to be washed down with a couple, or maybe three or four, pints of lager. As a result it was quite late before we caught a bus back to campus. I'd found out that although we both had flats on campus mine had its own bathroom, thanks to my father's healthy financial state, whereas he had to share one with other students. So it seemed logical for me to ask Ken if he wanted to come back to mine. At that point I honestly wasn't thinking of anything more than it being more convenient if you needed to go for a slash – after all we'd only met a few hours earlier.

He agreed to come back and we soon had a couple of bottles open and were sitting still talking easily. I was laughing at some of the things he said and his accent, which was real common London, while he was laughing about my posh voice which he said made me sound as if my father was a Duke and I'd been to Eton. I guess we did make an unlikely pair, but somehow we just seemed to get on well.

We'd been there for half an hour or so when he got up and headed to the bathroom. When he returned a few minute later I stood up expecting him to go. Instead he walked up to me, stood on tiptoe and pulled me into a kiss. Now kissing wasn't something Harry and I had done, so this was my first. I reacted by putting my arms round him and feeling his arse, at the same time instinctively opening my mouth to allow his tongue access. Our tongues touched and made the acquaintance of each other. I heard him moan as I groped his rear and started to do the same myself as his hands pressed on my rear, pulling us closer. He pulled one of his hands away from my rear to rub down my front and feel my hardness.

"Dev, I ain't done anything since I've been 'ere, but I fancy it tonite. What about you?"

I hesitated before answering, unsure of what I could say.

"Look, I'm clean," he continued, "Got tested just before I came down 'ere. Show you me cert if you want."

I plucked up the courage to answer, suspecting as I did that it would be the end of any possible relationship between us.

"I want to Ken........... it's just that I never have."

He pulled back, looked at me and laughed. I discovered that he had a very dirty laugh.

"Oh gawd! I've got meself a novice! Not that I'd have known from how you kissed! You've really never done anything?"

I blushed. "Only once – a mutual blow job."

"There, see. At least you ain't a total bleedin' novice! Look, I ain't suggesting we 'op into bed an' go at it like bunnies right off. I could enjoy you bringin' me off an' doing the same for you. I likes you though. You're different to anyone else I've known. I could sorta teach you if you want – that'd be fun. An' I promise I won't take advantage of you – you can always say 'no' if I suggest something. An' I don't have to worry about catchin' anythin' from yer! What you say Dev?"

I pulled him back to me and let my mouth and tongue provide my initial answer while my hand searched for his zipper. Soon that was down and I could get my fingers inside his jeans to feel his prick under his boxer briefs. They felt damp and I knew mine would feel the same to him as he discovered a minute or so later. It wasn't long after that before we were both on my bed wearing just our boxers and socks. Shortly after that we each discovered that the other possessed an uncircumcised prick. Mine was slightly longer and thicker than Kenny's but neither of us had anything to be ashamed of. Both of us had a foreskin that was what might be termed the right size – the head could hide, but it didn't take much persuasion to show itself.

Having satisfied our immediate needs we got under the duvet, kissed, cuddled and talked. I found out just how experienced Ken was. He'd had his first mutual session with a schoolfriend when he was thirteen and their sessions had been regular thereafter. It wasn't long before blowjobs commenced and he'd had hit first fuck to celebrate his fifteenth birthday. More had followed with a couple of other friends, but he'd woken up to the potential dangers after a lecture delivered at school. From then on he'd been using condoms and insisting that anyone wanting him should also wear one, unless they could prove to his satisfaction that they were clean. However, he'd been with just one partner for the past year until he found Josh had decided to join the army, which had happened a month or so prior to Ken coming to Sussex. They'd thus both decided it made sense to go their separate ways, although I could tell from the way Kenny talked about him, that he still had feelings for Josh.

We didn't do anything else that night, but for me it felt really great to be able to snuggle in bed with someone – and be cuddled in return. However, as we both woke with morning woods we did attend to those before having a quick shower, after which Ken went back to his own rooms.

Our relationship quickly developed and grew. I'd never met anyone like Kenny, which I guess was hardly surprising. I'd been brought up in moneyed surroundings and mainly been educated in a fee paying independent school. Had I attended the local comprehensive I'm sure I would have come across plenty of kids like him. And naturally, his situation was exactly the reverse of mine. What we did have in common was the sex, but there was also something more than that. We actually liked each other and were happy to spend time in one another's company, even when sex wasn't on the agenda. We simply got on together, unlikely as that might have seemed to anyone who knew us as individuals.

In fact for me one of the best things was simply having someone to cuddle and snuggle with in bed. My parents weren't the touchy feely kind, we didn't go in for hugs and kisses were always of the air type. So to actually share my bed with someone was a marvellous feeling. Quite soon Ken was spending most nights with me and I felt very lonely whenever he didn't.

One other thing had happened for me - I'd changed my appearance. My parents had been shocked to see me the first time I went home at a weekend. Dad was quite upset and made his feelings clear; Mum was more along of the lines of me going through a teenage rebel period which would soon pass after which I'd go back to normal. However, my now bottle blond hair, much longer than it had been, really stood out. Plus which, I was now dressing fairly 'chav' in style so Ken and I looked petty similar when out together. For sure Dad didn't take me to Sunday lunch at the golf club that weekend! Mind you, if I'd told him I was also having frequent sex with Ken, I suspect he might have thrown me out. That was a bridge I'd have to cross at some point, but not just yet, even though I was now totally convinced that I was gay.

So there it was. I had professors and tutors during the day teaching me about Economics and Finance and now in the night I had another expert teaching me about sex. It was all a lot to take in, but I can't deny the night lessons were much more enjoyable than the daytime ones. That isn't to say that we spent all of our time in my bed – or even in my flat, before you get the wrong idea. I couldn't deny though that we did find places other than my bed to pleasure each other.

The thing is, Brighton has such a lot to offer. For Ken who'd lived pretty near the centre of London with easy access to the West End and so on, there had always been plenty to do. But for me, living in this little village with only Truro as a potential entertainment centre, Brighton came as a revelation. There were always films to go and see, clubs to visit, pubs to go to – many of which had live entertainment, it was a totally different world. Thus we'd often take the bus into town and do something in the evening before returning to my flat.

As for my 'education', Kenny proved to be an excellent teacher while I was a willing pupil. I wanted to learn and he was happy to show and guide me. I was amazed at how arousing stroking, kissing and licking could be and how many different parts of the body were pleasure centres. Leaving aside the obvious ones of my prick and balls, I had never thought how stimulating nipples and belly buttons could be; or ears; or toes. I discovered that any part of the body could be stimulated to give pleasure. What was more, I discovered that giving pleasure was just as good as receiving it.

Ken took my education slowly at first. It wasn't until the third occasion we slept together that my prick was introduced to his tongue and then his mouth. I couldn't believe the sensations my body experienced as he expertly swirled,licked, sucked and bobbed up and down on it and I was very soon shooting and shouting my appreciation. With Harry the blow job I got, I now discovered, had been very basic When I'd come down off my high I wanted to do the same for Ken, but he made a point of telling me I didn't have to. I told him now I'd had that experience there as no way I could not give him the same pleasure. He was happy to let me, but as he said before I started to go down on him, it would take a few goes before I'd master the art seeing I'd only done it once before. At least I managed not to bite him and he did pull out before he came. But I didn't mind staying up late to practice and it wasn't long before I could pleasure him and accept what he offered in thanks.

Of course I knew there was more to gay sex than just blow jobs, even mutual ones which soon became a source of yet greater pleasure for us. We though seemed content with our situation as October and November passed. It wasn't until December arrived and the end of term loomed in a couple of weeks that I began to feel the need for something else – to take the next step. We'd both be going to our respective homes for Christmas and that meant I wouldn't be seeing Kenny for about three weeks. Of late we'd hardly been apart for three hours, so how was I going to survive three weeks? I wasn't sure if I actually loved him. How could I know that I asked myself? I did know that I felt as if part of me was missing when he wasn't with me. I also had no idea how he felt about me, although I had noticed there had been no mention of Josh for several weeks, which I felt at least indicated he was now consigned to history.

So I decided the time had come for me to take the next step. Ken had told me right at the start he'd not do anything I didn't want him to. Maybe by that he'd really

meant that I had to lead the way.

We'd gone to bed that night and had simply kissed and cuddled. We were both naked, of course, and by now we were both hard. I reached my hand down and wrapped my fingers round his prick.

"Ken, I want to feel this inside me."

He pulled his head slightly away. "You fancy a sixty nine?"

"No, well I do, but what I really want is to know what it feels like to be fucked."

"Shit, Dev! Are you serious?"

"Yep. I think I love you Ken and I wanna prove it to you."

He stroked my cheek. "You don't 'ave to prove anything to me Dev. You know I've been wiv a couple of other blokes, but I ain't never felt about them like I feel about you."

"I want to, Kenny; no I need to." I hesitated, thinking he might say something, but he just looked at me and gently stroked my cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had run down it. "I've been thinking about it for a while. It's the next step. I have to do it."

"Only if you're sure Dev. Absolutely sure. I'll get some rubbers tomorrow and you'll have another day to be certain you wanna do it."

"Why'd you want johnnies? You told me you were clean when we first did anything. You haven't had sex with anyone else – have you?"

"Course I bleedin' 'aven't. I just thought you'd wanna."

I pulled him tight. "It's you I want to feel inside me, Ken, not a bit of rubber."

"Alright," he said with a little laugh, "but we'll still need some lube. Good thing there's some in me backpack."

He kissed me before getting out of bed, returning shortly with a tube of something.

"Not changed your mind?" he asked as he slid back into bed.


"Okay. Roll over an' kneel on the bed. But Dev, I ain't gonna fuck you. I'll come inside you an' try to be gentle an' hope you enjoy what you feel. Maybe one of these days I will fuck you, if you want it, but the first time shouldn't be like that."

I wasn't sure I understood what he meant, but I trusted Ken and guessed with his experience he knew what he was talking about.

He threw off the duvet as he spoke and stood up for a moment before kneeling on the bed behind me. He started by kissing my arse all over while stroking my prick between my legs, after which he put his tongue to work exploring into my cleft. I could feel the dampness and the tingle he made as it touched my hole. After that he spread some lube around and began to gently work what I could tell was a finger in there, which after a while was withdrawn only to become two. He was still paying attention to my prick and I wasn't feeling any discomfort. That changed though when he came to try and insert his prick. I tensed up as he pressed at the gate which only made it more difficult, but he was so patient, whispering to me and stroking me. Eventually I relaxed and he pressed in. I almost screamed as he did, but as suddenly as the pain had come it was gone and from then on the pleasure just increased as he slid forward and back. The moment he hit my prostate was one of pure joy and then I did shout – but with pleasure and at the same time I came. He continued to move within me, but very soon afterwards I felt him come. My first time was over and we slid down on the bed, still joined until Ken plopped out.

We lay together. I was happy but couldn't think of anything to say to express my feelings. I rolled over to look at Ken and he was smiling, as I knew I was.

"You ain't a virgin no more, Devon," he said as he stroked my face with one hand.

"Thanks, Kent. Don't look any different though, but I sure feel good."

We cuddled and talked for a while before we dropped off to sleep. I might have said I felt good immediately after, but the next morning I was pretty sore and uncomfortable. I was certain I was walking strangely and felt that everyone I passed on campus would know the reason. But it didn't stop us repeating the action a few more times before the end of the term. On one of those occasions Ken asked me if I wanted to come into him. I told him that sometime I might, but that for now I was happy doing what we did. He said that suited him as although he was willing to bottom he much preferred to be the top. That happened quite soon in the New Year when I told him I wanted to try. He was happy to oblige, but although I enjoyed it, I still preferred to be the receiver. Feeling Kenny inside me gave me such pleasure.

So that was how we started. By the time we were approached by Pavel on that trip to London I had become much more than a novice. Put simply, Ken and I enjoyed sex. We enjoyed pleasuring each other and in trying out new positions and ways of doing things.

We started talking about the filming on the train back to Brighton. There seemed to be two ways in which we could approach it. One would be to just turn up and see how things went, but we both agreed that would very likely lead nowhere fast because of the presence of other people with cameras. It thus seemed sensible to work out a routine, which hopefully we could make look natural. So that was what we did in the evenings of the following week.

By the end of the week we had a plan. We'd start as we had at the screen test and strip each other before performing blow jobs. We did consider doing a sixty nine, but decided separate ones increased the film time for the same result. Pavel called during the week to tell us the name of the hotel where we'd be staying and from which we'd be collected on the Saturday morning. We checked it out online and it looked rather classy.

It was also necessary to come to an arrangement about how we would be paid. They didn't want to pay us in advance in case we didn't show, but neither did we want to perform and then have them not pay up. In the end we agreed that Pavel would join us for breakfast at the hotel. He'd hand us in cash the sum we'd agreed for a thirty minute blow job shoot which we could leave in the hotel safe. If we decided to go further they would pay us when filming had finished. We knew we were taking a risk, but they'd been open and apparently honest about everything thus far. And, like I said to Ken when we discussed it, I'd never been paid any other time he'd screwed me, so if that happened this time..... He didn't let me finish that sentence though!

The hotel was really good. We had a large room with a king size bed – very different to the single in my flat. It didn't take long after we arrived before we decided to test it out. We did consider whether we should in view of our need to perform the next morning, but Kenny pointed out that it wouldn't do for him to come too quickly while being filmed. That made good sense to me, so we had a final undress rehearsal!

Next morning Pavel was waiting when we came down for breakfast. While we were eating Pavel handed Ken an envelope and before we'd finished he went off to the toilet and checked the contents. I suppose there was always a possibility the notes were forgeries, but we felt we'd covered as many angles as possible. Ken gave me a thumbs up when he returned and after finishing breakfast we stopped off at reception to have the envelope put in the hotel safe, before going back to our room.

After that we all went down to the hotel car park and got into Pavel's car for the drive over to Canary Wharf where we found Tibor, the boss, and Igor, the cameraman, waiting. They wanted us to give an outline of what we planned to do so Igor could position lights and the static camera ready. Tibor especially was delighted when he heard our plans. I think he could already see the money flowing in when the film of us became available on line. That was when Kenny pounced and told him that we needed to agree a figure beforehand if we were going to do everything, especially as it would be without condoms. Now I can't say he actually started to salivate when Kenny said 'without condoms', but his eyes definitely lit up. We sat and discussed for a while before Pavel was sent out of the room to return shortly afterwards with a briefcase which he handed to us. Kenny opened it and we saw lots of notes inside, neatly bundled. A quick riffle through a couple of the bundles proved they weren't just sheets of paper.

So we were ready to go. Our planned 'routine' was to strip each other, then Ken would blow me and I'd return the favour. After that he would do me doggy fashion, before moving to a side entry position and finally I would ride him. But things didn't exactly go to plan. The first couple of parts with the stripping and blow jobs were fine. Then I got into position on the bed so Ken could enter me from behind. That was okay and he began to move in and out when for some unknown reason he decided to slap my arse. I'd never been smacked as a kid and if anyone had suggested doing this beforehand I'd have told them to get lost, but the tingle from that smack did something to me.

"Do it again, Kenny." I whispered. He did. "Now do it again – harder." He did.

He reached round me and felt my prick.

"Gawd, you're hard," he breathed in my ear.

"Yep – and now I want you to do it a few more times and then fuck me!."

So he did and when he'd finished and rolled off me I was still hard. He looked at me, grinned, rolled onto his back and hoisted his legs to his shoulders.

"And now you fuck me!"

So I did - and when we'd finished the hardy professional audience applauded.

A few months later I had a phone call from Pavel. He was coming over to London again and wanted to meet us. I told him we weren't going to do any more films, that one had been our solitary performance. He said although he'd have been delighted if we would agree to make another one, he'd not expected us to ever do so, but he just wanted to see us again.

We arranged to meet again in St James' Park on Saturday morning. When we spotted him we noticed he was carrying a briefcase, which, after we'd sat down on a bench, he handed to us. He said it was a little bonus because our film had sold so well – it was their biggest seller of the year.

We didn't open it until we got back to my flat at uni. When we did – well it didn't contain enough to pay off our student loan, but there was enough there to live comfortably for the rest of our time while studying for our degrees. It was almost enough to make us think of calling Pavel and telling him we'd do another film - but not quite!

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