D'n'M

By AP Webb

Published on Feb 3, 2021

Gay

All the characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.

The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at:

pjalexander1753@gmail.com

PJ

D'n'M Part 4

From Chapter 10:

Half an hour later he was lying on his own bed, naked from the waist down, stiff dick in hand and with pictures of a near-naked, sweaty and pumped D playing in a loop on the inside of his closed eyelids. It was only a matter of a very few minutes before those images, added to the actions of his right hand, had the desired effect, as several blasts of hot, thick boy-cum shot enthusiastically over his face, chest and tummy. Hmmm. Nice.


Chapter 11:

Thursday was a frustratingly slow day at school for both Dan and Milo but for very different reasons, though they each experienced a growing sense of anxiety as the day progressed. Dan's stress levels rose with every passing hour, partly due to his feelings of guilt for not having been to reclaim the dog-tags but mostly with each exchange of texts with Christy, and there were lots of them. No detail of their date on Saturday evening seemed to be too small or too insignificant to merit in-depth discussion of every possible decision option. Would he call for her or should they meet at the restaurant? (Meet at the restaurant.) Or maybe somewhere else? (No, the restaurant they'd chosen would be fine.) What time would be best? (Whatever time suited her.) Should he try to reserve a table in advance? (That seemed unnecessary but, if yes, they needed to agree a time.) Was he sure the restaurant was the best place? (Yes, they both liked it and it was popular with kids their age because it had a great atmosphere.) Did he like blue? (Huh!?) That was the colour she was planning to wear. What about him, had he chosen his outfit yet? (What?! Oh, er, no, he hadn't finally decided. Of course, whatever she wore would look perfect.)

And all this was in addition to the natural anxiety a boy feels in advance of a first date - in Dan's case a first ever date. What did you talk about on a first date? (Well, they'd managed to find lots to talk about at the party.) Should he get something for her? Flowers? (Nah, probably not, this wasn't a 50's high school movie.) Should he dress to impress? (No, definitely not, mainly because he had no idea what that would be and he'd be bound to get it wrong if he tried to make it up.) Did you hold hands on a first date? (That would be good.) Did you kiss on a first date? (That would be better.) Did you make-out on a first date? At that point, blood rushing south to his dick put an end to any further consideration of first date protocol and propelled him to a cubicle in the nearest boys' room.

For Milo his worries were about what he knew versus what he didn't, which meant he was both anxious and confused -- not a happy state to be in and certainly not good for the concentration in Mr. Klein's science class where he almost got a Friday after-school detention for inattention. That would have been a total bummer for so many reasons. You'd think that for someone who constantly went round with a half and half mind, being both anxious and confused at one and the same time wouldn't be a problem. You'd be wrong. He knew he liked Grey, liked him a lot. He didn't know if Grey liked him, at least, not in the same way. Which meant he didn't know how much to reveal (obviously he'd be revealing a lot, it was going to be a mutual shaving session after all, but it wasn't that sort of revelation he was concerned about. Well, it was, but that was another matter altogether. Oh crap! This was all so confusing, just like this sentence.) He knew he'd be getting up close and very personal with parts of Grey's body that he'd been fantasising about for weeks. He didn't know if Grey would be totally cool with that or totally uncool. Which meant he didn't know whether to pass the whole thing off as just a bit of a laugh, as a necessary and serious attempt to improve their performance in the pool or as a way for both of them to get laid. Well, maybe not laid, exactly, but certainly a chance for them both to get their rocks off and (this is where Milo's imagination began to spin completely out of control) to see if there was potential for something longer-term than a hurried jerk-off or blow-job.

And, of course, there was the whole matter of what D had told him about Grey. He was still pretty cross with D for outing Grey but, at the same time, he couldn't help hoping it was true. He couldn't ask D about it because that would be like saying it was okay to go round revealing someone's sexuality without their permission. He knew, of course, that D had simply been wanting to give him, Milo, cause for hope that he and Grey might get it together, but that just raised more questions for Milo, like how did D know that he was interested in Grey in the first place. This shocker, coming after what his team-mates had said about already knowing he was gay, had Milo seriously rattled. He thought he'd been doing a pretty good job of concealing the gay thing but it was beginning to look like he'd been fooling himself. And if that was true, then who else knew? And what might they do with that knowledge? C-R-A-P! Why couldn't he just be straight? D's date-related worries, which had been shared on a text-by-text basis throughout the day, seemed negligible in comparison. Then he had an idea.

At the end of the day he ducked out of school without waiting for D. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible and didn't want to have to explain why, and definitely didn't want to be persuaded to go back to the Reed house. Once in the safety of his own bedroom (with the door locked) he made the connection.

"M! Hello. Long time no see. How're ya doing?" It was Tom. It was Tom in boxer-briefs, socks and nothing else, his hair damp and a discarded towel visible on the floor. "Don't mind me. Just out of the shower. Mind if I dress while we talk? I've got you on my i-Pad."

"No, of course not, that's fine." In fact, it was more than fine, Tom's buffed, half naked body would definitely prove to be too much of a distraction, and distractions were what he seriously did not need if he was going to be able to say the things he wanted to say.

"So, how are things at home?" This was said as Tom half lay on his bed, wrestling with a pair of skinny jeans, giving Milo a direct line of sight up Tom's toned thighs straight to the curve of his prominent bulge. Instantly Milo's mind, both halves this time, was swamped by memories of that amazing experience in Tom's bedroom, during the time of D's abuse by Mr. Roberts, when he'd been given permission to explore every part of that beautiful body before being monumentally blown by his boyhood hero. It was a struggle to get any of his mind back on track.

"What? Oh, home? Yeah, fine thanks."

"Your dad okay?" Tom, his jeans still unfastened, was now standing as he sprayed deodorant, first under his arms and then, to Milo's surprise, down inside his boxer-briefs. Ooh, that had to sting!

"Yeah, he's working hard but that's okay." Milo wondered if Tom completely shaved his pubic hair or still preferred a neat trim.

"And your mum?"

Milo's head dropped and by the time he lifted it again Tom was pulling a dark blue polo shirt over his head, his pecs and abs picked out and working in perfect harmony.

"Oh, okay. Sorry I asked." Tom realised from M's silent reaction that he needed to move the conversation along.

"So, is this a social call or is there something on your mind?" How did he know Milo wondered.

"Yeah, well sorta." He had no idea where to start.

"Start from the beginning, that usually works pretty well."

So Milo did, back to his conversations with his dad and the decision to come out, starting with the swimming team, and how he'd been bounced into making the announcement earlier than planned because of having to choose shave partners.

"How did that go?" asked Tom. "I hope they came good. Ms. Boyeda would have been behind you, I bet."

"Yeah, she was great and the team said they already knew and it was no big deal. I reckon I've got you to thank for that, after you sorted out the anti-gay stuff when you were captain."

"They already knew, eh? That must have been a shocker. But I'm glad the team stepped up. I reckon The Ballbreaker would have had a lot to do with that. But if it all went so well, what's the problem?"

So Milo went on to explain about Grey and how confused he was by all the knowns and unknowns. Just voicing his anxiety was making him feel better but it didn't suddenly magic a solution out of the air so he was still keen to get Tom's take on the whole situation.

"I can see why you've got yourself twisted into knots, M, and you've come to the right place to help you get it sorted." The smile on Tom's face was deeply reassuring and it was quickly mirrored on Milo's.

"So this Grey kid gets to become a Cum Brother tomorrow and it's down to you to be his guide and mentor." Milo nodded. He hadn't given much thought to the `guide and mentor' angle, he'd been too caught up in the whole shaving and possible jerking-off scenario.

"Well, it seems to me you need to ask yourself what's the best possible outcome for both of you and then plan how to get there. But you've gotta remember that he's the newbie and you can't take any sort of advantage of him, especially if you're hoping for more than just a quick jerk-off or b-j."

Crap! How did he know? "How did you know? I didn't say anything about being interested in him."

"You didn't need to Milo my friend, it's written all over your face. Besides, if that was all you were interested in -- a jerk-off or blow-job -- you wouldn't be all tied up in knots and needing to talk to your big brother Tom."

"So you think it'll all come good -- no pun intended -- as long as I make sure that whatever we do Grey's comfortable with it." When you said it like that it all sounded totally reasonable and straightforward. Milo hoped it would prove to be so.

"Don't worry, M. You've got this covered. Grey is a lucky kid. Now, how about a quickie before you go? All this talk of Cum Brothers and jerking-off has got me really horny. Last one with his boxers round his knees is a loser!"

Where did that come from? Wherever, Milo certainly hadn't been expecting it, but he was suddenly aware that he too was primed and loaded. By the time he'd got his hard-on free of his cargos and boxer-briefs he could see that Tom was several steps ahead of him, stroking steadily and systematically with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. Milo wished he could just sit there and ogle his boyhood lust-interest but his dick had other ideas, already pumping copious amounts of pre and insisting that it not be wasted.

Somewhere through the jerk-off mist that had clouded his vision (or maybe he just had his eyes closed) Milo could hear Tom's moaning as he encouraged his "fuck stick" and massaged his "greedy hole" (he could easily work out where at least one of Tom's non-jerking fingers had wandered off to). Milo himself had always been a silent jerker but from what he could hear he began to think that might be a subject worth reviewing -- next time. For now, though, he was close to blowing his load and needed to give his full attention to making the most of what was about to happen. Right on cue his breathing became shallow, the movement of his hand became a blur (should anyone have been watching) and the head of his dick got slicker and redder. Four bullets of fully-charged boy-cum shot out, straight onto the rug, followed by a significant oozing that dribbled down over his hand.

As Milo came down from his jerk-off high he heard the sound of clapping followed by Tom's voice saying, "That Grey kid is in for a real treat. Let me know how it goes." And finally, "Love ya bro." And he was gone, leaving Milo panting and sated but also just a little disappointed that he'd wasted an opportunity to watch Tom bringing his beautiful dick to an explosive climax. Oh well, maybe next time.

Milo went to bed that night feeling much more relaxed about Friday than he'd been when he'd got up that morning (and that wasn't just down to the hot jerk-off with Tom). He'd got a lot of stuff straight in his head. As he fell asleep, Milo was feeling pretty positive about his `date' the following day. He didn't even feel the need to have a final, good-night unloading.

At the end of the school day Dan had hung around the main entrance waiting for M to get out of class. Fifteen minutes later, still waiting and feeling increasingly irritated, he spotted Ben the back-stroker leaving the building and asked if he'd seen Milo anywhere.

"He shot out of history as soon as the final bell sounded," was the reply. "Said he had somewhere to be."

That came as a surprise. M hadn't mentioned anything about an appointment. Probably something to do with his dad. He'd call him. After two rings the connection was ended. M had obviously switched off his phone without answering. Dan was not impressed. There were so many things about Saturday's date he wanted, no needed, to talk about with M. He supposed he'd have to wait until later and their usual night-time call.

Thursday evening at the Reed house seemed to last forever. Helen correctly identified the cause of D's monosyllabic funk as pre-first-date nerves and tried to steer conversation onto other, less sensitive subjects. Her attempts were not a success. Glances were exchanged between the parents, concern from her, amusement from Roger. He decided a different, more direct, light-hearted and laddish approach would be better received. The result was an expletive-laden outburst followed by an angry departure from the kitchen and the frame-rattling slamming of a bedroom door. Hmm. Should they, the concerned parents, 1). leave well alone and accept that teenage steam ahead of such a significant event needed to be let off?, 2). administer a sharp but non-punitive reprimand as a reminder that certain behaviours were not acceptable?, or 3). show concern and sympathy in the hope of allowing the boy to, at least, get a good night's sleep? After all, hadn't they themselves, albeit a very long time ago, endured first date agonies?

After a brief discussion it was decided that Helen should got up and try to talk to Dan. She knocked. There was no answer. She tried the handle. The door was locked. She tried speaking through the wooden panelling. The response was short, sharp and to the point. Message received and understood. Time for a tactical retreat. Oh well, nothing more they could do. Dan was on his own this time and would have to find his own way through. They would, of course, be there to pick up any pieces. Who'd be the parent of a teenager, eh?

Dan lay on his bed, tears of frustration clouding his eyes. M was still not picking up. What was going on? Didn't he know that his familiar voice was needed now, more than ever? M knew how stressful the prospect of `the date' had become -- he'd seen all the texts (all of them) that had arrived from Christy throughout the day. Fuck, he'd almost had his own phone confiscated by Mrs. Harris in science. Who knew that meeting up for a burger on a Saturday evening could be so stressful? There was no way he was gonna be able to sleep with this amount of tension. Maybe ...

His right hand travelled south and slipped under the twin waist-bands of his sweatpants and boxer-briefs, expertly homing-in on the limp inches that lay there in the warm mugginess. Several minutes of well-practiced fondling and stroking of both dick and balls followed. Nothing happened, no thickening, no lengthening, no stiffening. Nothing! Fuck! Time for some mental back-up. The stroking continued but now there were images of Christy projected onto the inside of his eye-lids, Christy topless, Christy, naked, Christy panting and calling his name, Christy cumming to a screaming climax.

Fuuuuck!

Still nothing, dick still limp and disinterested, still lifeless and dormant.

Oh Milo, where were you when a guy needed you?


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Next: Chapter 73: D N M IV 12


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