This is the sixth part of a true story about the gay relationship between a small group of consenting adult males - only their names and some of the places have been changed - in middle England. If this kind of material offends you, if you are under the age of consent or if such activities are illegal in your country, please close the file and leave now. Otherwise, read on and enjoy!
Across the Road
Chapter 6 - Hatching the Plan
Over the last few hours, I had been feeling more like a professional counsellor than a telecommunications engineer - but maybe I was enjoying it. The perks of the job were certainly more interesting! As Stewart and I lay there together, naked but not touching each other, on the bed, he told me more and more about his feelings, his desires and his frustrations, I was beginning to formulate a plan. This was clearly the first time he had ever been able to talk to anyone about his feelings and his past.
When he was about seven or eight years old, he had been abused by his great-grandfather, not seriously, but abused nonetheless. Apparently, as Stewart now realised, the old man enjoyed getting off by fondling young boys or sometimes getting them to fondle him. That was about as far as it ever went. Stewart in his innocence had thought this was normal behaviour until he decided to try it out on his cousin; the younger lad squealed and Stewart got a thrashing from his Dad - corporal punishment was still the norm in England in the early eighties. After that, he was completely unable for years to discuss anything of a sexual nature with his father for fear of what reaction he might get.
Just before he turned eleven, Stewart was sent away to a boys only boarding school whilst his parents went on a three-year assignment to the Middle East. During school holidays, he usually stayed with his maternal grandparents in Coventry or his mother came back to look after him, buy him new clothes and whatever. Stewart didn't even see his father for more two years until he eventually spent a two week Christmas holiday in the Arabian Gulf.
Meanwhile, Stewart was beginning to realise that his cock was for more than just peeing with. He began to find it pleasurable to play with his morning erections and soon he discovered the joys of orgasm. But what was it all about? Like many before him, and doubtless many in the future, he found an older boy at school who was willing to help him find out, but more for his own pleasure than for Stewart's. Slowly, Stewart had begun to realise that this was not quite the way that most boys of his age behaved, but still what was the harm if he found pleasure and kept it too himself?
Stewart stayed at the boarding school until he was eighteen - it was during that period that I first met him, when we moved into the house opposite to become his neighbours. His 'friend' had eventually drifted away, doubtless having found a new, equally gullible young lad to pleasure himself with. Stewart knew there was more to sex than wanking by himself or even with others and getting or giving an occasional blow job with some like-minded lad. He knew he wanted more, but all he knew was the man-to-man way and no way of finding any other.
Again, this reminded me of my earlier life. I was brought up in the Welsh Marches, an anachronistically named beautiful and unspoilt, but remote part of England bordering on Wales. During my teenage years, I spent more than two hours a day travelling to and from a boys only day school in Hereford. With a couple of hours of homework, there was no time for any kind of social life. The bus timetables meant there was no opportunity for extra-curricular activities at school, either of the approved kind or of the 'behind the bike sheds' variety. My father never spoke to me about the birds and the bees, so when I left school at eighteen and moved to the big city in the Midlands for my first job with a telecommunications equipment manufacturer, I was totally naïve about sex.
Likewise, when Stewart left school and started work at the computer service firm he too was struggling a bit with the social niceties having led his cloistered existence. He struggled also with his sexuality, desperately wanting to know a woman but simply not having the guts to find one. I had been there too.
Stewart got to know Eric, Keith and George and became a little more comfortable with his feelings, realising that Eric and George were both married but still enjoyed the intimate company of men. But Stewart was still desperate to break out of his present existence and play on the other side of the fence - he wanted a woman, not just a paid woman, he could easily have found himself one of those with a quick trip to a pub in the Hill Meadows area of his native city. He wanted one who would patiently show him what womanly love was all about - then he could make up his mind as to his true inclinations.
As he told me more and more about his feelings, I remembered my first few months away from home. I was sharing a room in some cheap digs with a slightly older lad, Andrew. He had a regular girl friend that he was shagging in our room whenever he thought I was not around; he got plenty of opportunity as I usually went home to my parents at weekends. Just in case I should return unexpectedly, we had a code; he would leave a sock just outside the door whenever he did not want to be disturbed. I was desperate to find out more but try as I might, I could neither get into his bed nor those of either of the three girl lodgers in the other two rooms. One night after I had gone to bed, the girls came in pissed and somehow Andrew managed to get his way with one of them. It was about two o'clock in the morning when he came back, stark naked to our room waking me in the process. The first thing I discovered was that my dick was much the same size as his.
After Andrew got into bed and put the light out, he started to brag about his conquest; I suspect he was trying to relive it under the bedclothes. I invited him to my bed, to show me how it was done. To my surprise, he came and my education was continued. For the first time in my life, I experienced the feeling of naked flesh against mine, the pleasure of his hard dick in my hands and his firm hands around mine. I lasted as long as I could before I shot my load all over Andrew's hairy stomach; he soon followed and dumped his remaining spunk on my chest. We both cleaned up with my tee shirt; he went back to his bed and nothing more was said about the incident. As I lay with Stewart all those years later, I told him about my experience and asked about his predator at school but he clearly did not want to expand on what he had said already. He was willing to tell me only what he wanted to tell me and would tolerate no questions.
Back to my own past - the weekend after Andrew's escapade in the other room, I got back on the Sunday evening and went straight to our room. Nothing happened when I put the light switch on but as I felt my way across the room to my bedside lamp, I thought I heard a slight giggle. Strange, the bedside lamp didn't work either but as I clicked it on, Andrew's voice asked me get undressed and to join him in his bed. I dropped my bag where I stood, threw off my clothes and did as I was bidden. Imagine my surprise when I found Andrew and Jean both naked in the bed!
Andrew lay passively whilst Jean set about me; within seconds, my education was being completed! My dick was hard, one of my hands was fondling her breasts and she had thrust the other into an already wet cunt. Suddenly, she came over on top of me and before I knew it, my prick was buried deep within her. Of course, it was over all too quickly but at least I now knew a woman, in the Biblical sense. When we were finished, she slipped out of bed, got dressed in the dark and without a word, left the room. I felt Andrew's tool snuggling into my ass crack as he embraced me from behind and began to explain that Jean had found out about his 'straying'. He had previously told her of my frustration and she decided that, as penance, he should witness me shagging her. Then he should let me screw him as well ....
Later, I found two light bulbs on the bedside table. I didn't recount this incident to Stewart, but this was where my plan for Stewart began hatching; more of that later.
I did tell him that when I was twenty-three years old, I eventually met the woman who became my wife and the mother of my son. He asked if I had ever played away after I married and I told him the truth. There were the rugby games and afterwards, there were the trips away on business and, of course, my very recent escapade in the office, not to mention the adventures in his own home! He mused about his father's frequent business trips and wondered if he had ever strayed. I couldn't possibly know the answer to that question!
We had just about exhausted our exploration of Stewart's feelings and I had told him quite a lot about my own pleasures on both sides of the fence when the bedside phone rang. The calling line indication told me it was from my office, I motioned Stewart to be quiet as I answered it. As I talked to Jacques at quite some length about a problem at work, Stewart quietly rolled out of his side of the bed. As he walked away, I got a splendid view of his tight ass cheeks, disfigured only by the now reddened scar, enclosing his slightly hairy crack. I hope Jacques didn't notice that my conversation skipped a few syllables!
He disappeared, still naked, out of the bedroom door - he was clearly learning my habits! A few minutes later I had almost finished my conversation with Jacques when Stewart reappeared carrying two mugs of coffee. As he came through the door, I saw his brown nipples, standing proud in their thickets of dark hair, thinner trails leading towards the centre of his chest, upwards towards his throat and downwards to his navel, thickening as it reached the forest in his groin. His balls were hanging low, his knob had not yet receded into its covering foreskin after the sucking I had given it an hour or more ago and his dick was swinging from side to side as he walked towards me. I felt a stirring in my loins as I quickly ended the call from Jacques and motioned Stewart to put the coffee on the bedside table.
As he did so, I reached out and put my hands on his thighs. I think he was ready for me to take his dick into my mouth again but instead, I turned him round to look at the angry scar across his ass. That needed some treatment. I slid out of bed and got the bottle of TCP from the bathroom cabinet. TCP is another British tradition; apparently unavailable anywhere else in the world, many is the bottle I have taken on my overseas travels for expatriate Brits. It is powerful antiseptic liquid with a strong and evocative smell, with a sting to match when applied to even minor wounds - and it works! I soaked a tissue in this liquid and applied it to Stewart's scar, being careful that none should run into his crack and on to the sensitive areas concealed therein. As it was, he leapt into the air as the cold liquid stung his buttocks.
We sat on the edge of the bed for a while and drank our coffee, still naked. Stewart was in a contemplative mood, but I asked no questions. I was still hatching my plan; how very fortunate that my telephone stored the last ten numbers called, I would need that information later.
I offered Stewart one of the homemade frozen dinners my wife had left for me and he accepted readily, adding that after last night's events he was still worried about being home alone. We got dressed, went to the kitchen and selected the two chicken dinners. As they were defrosting and heating in the microwave, we had a beer each and chatted generally. We ate the dinners, with another beer each and washed up. Suddenly, somewhat to my relief, Stewart announced that he was going home for the night. I gave him my telephone number, just in case, and as he took his leave, he embraced me as if he were my son.
Now I had to talk to George. I retrieved Keith's number, still stored after Stewart's calls this morning, called him and asked if he knew how to contact George. He gave me a cell phone number, without questioning my need to know. We chatted briefly before hanging up.
I called George who answered right away. I told him about the problems the lads had had, then put my plan to him and somewhat to my amazement, he agreed without question.
To be continued; if you liked my story so far, let me know, tell me what it is doing for you; if you didn't like it, tell me that as well, polite criticism is equally welcome - mailto:nakednick2@btinternet.com