Educating David Chapter 8
This is a story about man on man sex. If this offends you please do not read further. Otherwise please enjoy this story which is the seventh chapter of a longer piece outlining how I learnt about gay sex whilst an undergraduate in the 1970s. I'd be very interested to receive your feedback and suggestions for future chapters. My email is zlatyblbec@yahoo.com
If you enjoy this story you may enjoy the other offering I have on Nifty – The Widowers Club which is in the `Adult Friends' section.
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When we were both dressed I took a final look around the room to check there were no tell-tale signs of what had just taken place. I straightened the blanket on William's bed and moved the frame of my own back to its usual position so that the door could be opened.
Warren grabbed one of my bags and I the other, and we made our ways down the stairs and out and into Warren's car. I was going to stay at Warren's until the following weekend before heading home for Easter, so I was going to spend the next 10 nights in his bed. I could hardly believe it!
o-O-o
"All that cuming make you hungry?" Warren asked as we pulled away from the student house I lived in.
I was ravenous. Normally after the game we'd have a meal with the opposing team. Nothing Cordon Bleu, you understand – usually something very filling and carbohydrate laden and perfect for dozens of fit young men who'd just been engaged in vigorous exercise. In the north of England where my university was situated this was more often than not meat pie, chips and baked beans, all washed down with several pints of the local beer from wherever the game had been played.
Of course today we hadn't been entertained by the borstal. Instead it was a quick shower then straight back onto the coach for the journey home. Most of us hadn't even taken a mug of tea from the pots provided in the changing rooms for fear of what the tea might be laced with!
Until Warren asked I hadn't really thought about my hunger. Up until then I'd had other things on my mind. On the coach there was all that jacking off I described in chapter 6, and once I got home the romp with Warren had been the focus of my attention. Now we were in the car I realised two things – that I was absolutely starving, and that all the physical and sexual activity of the afternoon had really tired me out.
"I'm starving", I replied, leaning my head back onto the seat.
Warren changed gear, then moved his hand onto my crotch and gave it a rub. By now I'd shrunken back to a completely flaccid state and as his hand massaged the area I felt the stickiness of my spunk laden jockstrap against the bare head of my dick.
"OK then – how about fish and chips? No cooking. And better still nothing to wash up afterwards!"
"Sounds good." I yawned.
"Keeping you awake?"
I smiled and turned to Warren, moving my own hand onto his crotch and giving him a squeeze. Unlike me he was very hard, but of course he hadn't come twice in the last hour or so like I had. The idea that he was wearing my Y-Fronts, and that I was feeling his erect penis through them turned me on. I knew I'd want to give them a good sniff when he took them off, and see if he'd left any pre-cum in them.
"Sorry – it's been a busy afternoon." A really physical game of rugby against fifteen teenagers who were all pretty much young thugs, followed by all that sexual activity.
"I bet." He rubbed my cock through my jeans again. "Have you ever tried that chip shop at the bottom of St Mark's Hill? The best in the city by far..."
o-O-o
The chip shop was about half way between my place and his, and after we'd bought our tea I sat with the warm newspaper-covered package on my lap for the rest of the journey.
When we arrived at his cottage Warren took my two bags out of the boot of the car, and locked it. I tried to juggle with the package of fish and chips so I could take at least one of the bags from him, but he wouldn't let me.
"I'm not so old that I can't carry two bags, you know!", Warren laughed. "You just keep your focus on making sure you don't drop our dinner!" He put down the bags and used his key to unlock the front door. "You go and put the chips on the table."
I did as instructed, and when I returned to the hallway I found Warren almost totally naked. He was just pulling down MY underpants, the rest of his clothes already on the ground around him.
"You don't need to strip off if you don't want," he told me. "But as I said, I do spend most of my time at home naked."
He started to collect the garments that were on the floor as I began to disrobe. Very quickly I was down to my damp and stained jockstrap – unlaundered since the start of the season over six months earlier. I hooked my thumbs under the thick waistband at the front and pulled the support down to my feet. Despite the beautiful Warren standing naked in front of me my dick had really gone to sleep, and as I'm very much a grower rather than a shower there wasn't an awful lot to be seen poking out of my spunk-covered pubic hair. I picked up the jockstrap, examined it and smelt it, and then handed it to Warren.
"This is yours now, as promised."
I bent down and picked my Y-Fronts up. The first thing I did was, of course, to inspect the area where Warren's prick had been for the past half an hour. Just as I'd hoped there was a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked as I'd rubbed him in the car. I brought the patch to my nose and inhaled deeply. A heady cocktail of aromas – my own familiar sweaty crotch smell mixed with a slight tinge of urine where a few drips had worked their way out after I'd pissed, then a distinct fragrance of Warren's seminal fluid. I put my finger into the wet spot and then brought it to my nose before licking my finger. I couldn't believe that it seemed so natural to do this directly in front of this man. Spent in the company of such a liberated man as was Warren the next few days were definitely going to be very interesting.
"Come on! Food!" said Warren
I quickly folded my clothes and left them on the shelf of the ancient coat rack, and followed Warren into the dining room. He popped his head around the door of the scullery en route and grabbed a couple of towels. "To sit on," he explained as we got to the table, handing one to me. "Naturist etiquette. You always have a towel to sit on. Even if you're sure you're totally clean down there," and as he said that he nodded to my nether regions, "you'll still get a sweaty crack if you sit for more than a few minutes and you don't want that staining the upholstery or being left as a deposit for someone who comes after you."
I had to smile – this guy was just so matter of fact about such potentially embarrassing things. I bet he'd been a superb boys' schoolmaster.
"Shall I get some plates?" I asked before sitting down.
"Not at all," said in a way that suggested faux outrage. "There's no other way to enjoy fish and chips than from the newspaper they've been wrapped in." He nodded to me to take a seat at the far side of the table and unwrapped the parcel. Then he put his towel on the seat pad of the chair opposite me.
"But there are two things we do need, though", he said. "Get a couple of napkins from the draw of the sideboard", then he left the room returning a minute or so later with a couple of glasses of beer.
He passed one over to me as he sat down, then clinked glasses. "Cheers!" he said. "Here's to a pleasant week for both of us."
"Ten days," I corrected. And ten nights sleeping next to him. And ten mornings waking up beside him. How my life had changed in the last couple of weeks.
The cod and chips were absolutely phenomenal, just as he'd said they would be. Grabbing chips and bits of fish with my fingers was a first for me. We had no plates nor cutlery, just a parcel between us on the middle of the table which had a couple of sheets of the Daily Mail as its base. My mother would've had a fit! In her world this was how folks without a decent upbringing lived. And yet I was sitting opposite a man of very upper class background who said this was the only way to eat this particular British delicacy.
And if she'd had a fit at that I hate to think what she'd have thought about the fact that we were both stark naked and would be sharing a bed together shortly! Best she didn't find out, eh?
"Oh yes", I said, remembering the incident from earlier on in the week. "On the night before William went home for Easter I left my underpants on the bed in a very definite place, folded in a very particular way. When I came back from brushing my teeth and so on they'd clearly been examined – not only had they moved from where they'd been, they were inside out. I'd folded them and placed them crotch down. Somehow they'd ended up with the inside of the crotch on full display."
"Most interesting."
I blushed a little. "And I'd jacked off into them about an hour earlier, so there was still a bit of wet spunk left on them." I smiled. I felt so liberated that I could reveal stuff like that.
"Sounds like your William has the same sort of fetish that you have, doesn't it?" he smiled.
"Do you really think?"
"Can you think of another explanation?" He gave me a quizzical look. "I can't think of any reason at all why he'd even need to touch your underwear. And definitely not to inspect it closely, which is what turning it inside out suggests. Unless, of course, he got some sort of sexual pleasure out of it."
Of course this had been my thoughts too, but having them confirmed by Warren sent butterflies fluttering around my stomach. William was beautiful. And I slept in the same room with him most nights during term time, the two of us naked. And he appeared to have a least some measure of sexual interest in me. Wow!
"You need to carry that one over into the new term," Warren advised me. Given him more opportunities – perhaps with fresh spunk in some of your pants one day. Or come back unexpectedly quickly and see if you can catch him at it. And if you do, have a frank conversation – you might not end up sleeping alone that night!"
I took a long drink from my beer and imagined doing just that when term started. "Would that be ok?" I asked.
"Would what be ok?" Warren seemed confused.
"Having sex with William? While I'm still having sex with you?"
Warren reached over and put his hand on top of mine. "David – I'm very very fond of you. And I'm really loving our intimate time together. But I don't see us having an exclusive relationship. Either way."
He took his hand away, stood up and screwed the – now empty – fish and chips wrapper up into a ball. "Come on – wash that delicious grease off your hands."
I followed him into the kitchen where he put the wrapper in the bin then quickly washed his hands at the sink. As he started to dry them I squeezed past and opened the tap to wash my own. He came up behind me an pressed his naked body into mine. His arms met around my middle and he pulled me into a close hug. By now he was reasonably hard, and I could feel his erect penis finding a natural home in the cleft of my buttocks.
He kissed the nape of my neck. "I've never been a single lover sort of man, David." He rubbed my belly with his hand and gently moved his lips across to my shoulder. "I love men, and sex with men far too much for that. I've probably shared sexual experiences with hundreds of other men since I was a boy. It's just the way I am."
I felt him move away from me, so I rinsed my soapy hands and turned to dry them on a towel.
"You are your own person, and will have totally different wants, needs and desires to me. Perhaps monogamy is for you? Perhaps a deep and meaningful relationship with another guy you can come home to every night and share a bed with for forty years. Maybe not. Perhaps like me throughout your life you'll have a whole load of likeminded friends with whom you can indulge your physical needs, sometimes with several at once. Who knows? That's all for you to decide in the fullness of time. Until then just enjoy where life takes you..."
We went through to the lounge and he put the TV on. I was absolutely stunned to find that he was an avid follower of Coronation Street! Our family had been watching this programme since it started in 1960, but it was very much looked on as a soap for working class people of little education, and Warren hardly fell into that demographic!
"I'm surprised you watch this," I said.
"Too low brow for me, you think?"
"Something like that," I smiled.
"I hope they're keeping these tapes," he responded. "Because in fifty years' time this will be one of the best sources for getting a picture of working class northern England in the 60s and 70s. Not documentaries made by well-meaning middle class intellectuals, but this – a programme written about working class northerners for other working class people. If they get the details wrong here there'd be an uproar, so it reflects life as it truly is – Ena Sharples, Elsie Tanner, Annie Walker – all perfect examples of people living in our part of the world today."
"I'd never seen it like that."
We sat and watched the latest episode, Warren appearing to be engrossed. We'd moved our towels onto the sofa, and cuddled into each other. Nonchalantly we'd caress each other's bodies as we watched – sometimes the more obvious sexual parts, but also just rubbing each other's skin gently which was just as erotic. Occasionally we'd kiss.
When the adverts came on I wrapped my hand around Warren's stiff and leaking cock, leaned towards him and gave him a deep kiss. I'd recovered from my earlier flaccidity and was now sporting a reasonable boner myself. "Will you fuck me?" I whispered. I desperately wanted to feel him shoot a load inside me.
Warren gave me a quick peck on the lips. "One day." He smiled. "Soon."
I was disappointed at his response. "Why not now. Why not tonight?"
He kissed me again, grabbing my cock, pulling the foreskin gently back and spreading the pre-cum I was leaking around the head. "Do you trust me, David?"
"Of course."
"Then let me prepare you properly for this. It'll be a huge thing in your life, and waiting a short while for the moment when I penetrate you isn't really a big deal."
He looked at me, taking in the deflated expression on my face.
"I want it to be really pleasurable and special when we get to that stage, but before we can make that happen you need to work up to it otherwise it could turn you off something you otherwise end up loving."
"I don't mind..."
He held up his hand to stop me. "Just give me a few days. Give us a few days. And I guarantee that by this time next week you'll have been fucked. Probably several times, if you find it's right for you." He gave me an encouraging smile. "Can you wait that long to make sure we do it right?"
I'd been looking forward to this evening ever since I'd got home on Sunday, assuming it'd be the night when I properly lost my virginity (as I now saw it), so my bubble was somewhat burst, but I gave a disappointed smile and nodded. I knew Warren could read me sufficiently to understand what it meant, but I did trust him to make the right call.
The advert break ended, and as we watched the second half of the programme we became more amorous. Our fingertips roamed all over each other's skin -Warren had taught me how erotic a featherlight touch could be and as we moved our fingers over our sensitive parts both of us became more and more erect. I nuzzled into his chest and licked his nipples that were now very hard and prominent. I loved the smoothness of Warren's body – not a bit of hair from his neck downwards (and not a lot above it, either!). In his excitement he was starting to sweat, and I enjoyed the salty taste as my tongue roamed around his torso.
When the trumpet music signalling the end of Coronation Street ended Warren stopped caressing me and got up and turned the TV off, then came back to the sofa where I was still sitting and took my hand. He pulled me to my feet. "Come with me," he said gently. "Let's go to bed."
As we climbed up to the bedroom I stayed one stair behind him focused on and fascinated by the stunning tanned and muscular buttocks of this old man. With each step his muscles flexed and as I watched I could feel my own doing the same. I couldn't resist putting out my hand and touching his backside. He stopped, turned and sat down. We were halfway up the staircase by now. His penis was totally erect, pointing skywards as he splayed his legs to each side. My head was about the same level as his balls, so I moved one step higher then engulfed his cock with my mouth.
Warren let out a low groan. "I was hoping you'd do that", he said. He leaned back onto the treads above and moved his legs so they rested on my shoulders as I continued to suck him. He was oozing seminal fluid, and the now familiar taste was flooding my mouth. He brought his legs closer together and moved them softly, massaging my ears as he did so. "That's lovely, David. You really are a natural cock sucker."
It's funny, but what would've been an insult in many situations was a real compliment coming out of Warren's mouth. I continued working away at his cock. I couldn't imagine ever becoming tired of tracing around the contours of its head with the tip of my tongue, or of moving more of him into my mouth so that the end of his dick rubbed against my cheek, or even positioning it square on and moving it towards my throat. In those early days I hadn't perfected the technique of totally taking him into me, but appreciated the feeling of my mouth being almost totally full of cock.
"Stairs are a wonderful place for sex", he said. "Regardless of how tall or short you are stairs are perfect for finding the perfect position if you're sucking. And also fucking." He patted the top of my head. "If you find you like being fucked we'll fuck each other on the stairs sometime next week, how about that?"
I began sucking a bit harder to show that I approved of what he'd said.
After a few minutes Warren said that he needed a break otherwise he was going to cum and the night, as he put it, was yet young. So I stopped sucking him and we continued our journey to the bedroom.
The curtains had been closed to conserve the warmth of the spring afternoon, but as soon as we were in the room he drew them back. Warren had turned the light off at the top of the stairs, but hadn't turned the one in the bedroom on, and the moonlight streaming in through the window gave the room a delicious atmosphere.
As I looked across to the window where he was standing he appeared to be silver in the moonlight. In an instant he'd been turned into a classic black and white erotic photograph, shadows shading his wonderful curves and the moon spotlighting his erect penis.
I moved over towards him and we looked out of the window and down onto the back garden. His left hand moved to my backside and he began to rub. I turned towards him, and him towards me, and as we kissed we moved into each other, our erect cocks touching each other. I began to gently move my middle, rubbing my penis against his. He joined in and for a few minutes we frotted against each other, our middles becoming wet and sticky from our pre-cum.
"Lie on the edge of the bed. On your back. "
I broke off and did what Warren had asked.
Then Warren got onto his knees, put his shoulders under the backs of mine and pushed to raise my legs higher. I felt a little coolness as my buttocks parted slightly allowing the air to reach my anus. The next sensation was Warren's nose nuzzling against the bottom of my scrotum, followed directly by his tongue touching my perineum just below my balls and working its way back to my arsehole.
I put a hand on each of my buttocks and spread them open, allowing Warren easier access to my anus. He immediately took advantage as I felt the wetness of his flat tongue lapping over the multitude of sensitive nerve endings that made up that particular orifice. Over the years I'd played with my bumhole, of course. How many men could honestly say they hadn't? Sometimes I'd licked a finger and pushed it in as I'd wanked, other times I'd made my finger very wet and just rubbed it around the puckered opening, revelling in the delicious yet somehow naughty sensations. But being licked by someone else was a revelation.
Warren was able to maintain a constant flow of lubricant through his saliva glands, and used it to tantalise me. He constantly changed the shape of his tongue – sometimes flat and positioning it totally across my anus, then making it hard and pointed and gently exploring the first few millimetres inside me. As I lay back enjoying this my hard cock began to pulse and the area just below my belly button became splattered with seminal fluid.
Warren suddenly stopped and released my legs onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Then he climbed on beside me and gave me a kiss, working his tipped tongue between my lips. Somehow the thought that seconds before the same tongue tip had been lapping around my bum was erotic rather than gross.
"Phew!" gasped Warren. "It's quite hot and clammy down there!"
He kissed me again.
We both worked our way up the bed until we lay fully on it. He reached over and gave my rigid cock a feel, rubbing his thumb around its head to spread the pre-cum which was still oozing out. Then he moved his hand lower, between my legs, and began to run a fingertip around the wetness between my buttocks.
"You're a bit hairy down there," he said. "Could do with a visit to Rita."
"Who's Rita?" The obvious question.
"Amrita, actually. She's the Indian lady who I go to for hair removal. She's an expert in a technique called sugaring – an ancient art in the middle east. That's why I'm so smooth."
Of course I'd explored Warren all over, including his pubic region and also between his butt cheeks and right up into his anus. And I'd never come across a trace of hair, but I'd not really thought about the practicalities of how this was accomplished.
"I go to her every six weeks or so, and she keeps me as smooth as a baby."
"Even around your bum?"
He laughed. "Even around my bum! She's used to it – she's been doing it for decades. Men and women."
"How long have you been going to her?"
"To Rita? Seven or eight years, I suppose. Since I moved up here to become the deputy head. But I first came across this technique when I was in India just after the war, and I've been smooth ever since."
"Is it painful?"
"Not as much as you think. And the rewards are worth it. Don't you agree?"
I'd really liked the smooth feel of Warren's body. I ran my hands over his chest, stopping at each nipple in turn to rub it with my fingertip. "Absolutely."
"Sometimes licking someone who's really hairy can be a bit unpleasant. Bits of hair can get into your mouth and even stuck at the back of your throat. You need to be much more careful sucking off a hairy bloke than a smooth one."
"Hadn't thought of that." Of course the only dick I'd sucked so far had been Warren's beautifully smooth one.
"Same for the bum – and it's amazing how hairy some folk are down there."
"Do you think I should get done?" I couldn't recall seeing anyone in the showers at either school or university who'd obviously removed any of their pubic hair. "It'd be nice to try, but I think it'd look odd in the changing rooms. No one else seems to do it."
"Perhaps give it a try with your bum area? If anyone's inspecting that part of your anatomy to notice I don't think you'll need to worry about looking odd by that point!"
We both chuckled, leant into each other for another long kiss. Our hands began once again to range over each other's bodies, visiting all the places we knew provided enjoyment. Warren licked around my nipples and at that point I stopped caressing him. I just lay back opened my legs as wide as they would go and put my hands above my head. Warren continued from my nipples down my torso, past the belly button and on towards the base of my cock, slowly moving his own body further down the bed as he progressed. I felt his feet touch the floor at the end of the bed, and then my penis was engulfed by the warm dampness of his mouth.
He sucked me for several minutes, bringing me back to a full, throbbing and almost painful erection despite me having shot my load twice a couple of hours earlier. Presently he climbed back onto the bed, but swivelled round so that each of our cocks was aligned with the other's mouth.
I reached across with my mouth and discovered that Warren was now as hard as I was, and we both began to suck each other. The taste of Warren's pre-cum was a real turn on, and the more I licked at his glans the more he seemed to ooze. I felt both completely relaxed and excited at the same time. It was only just over a week since I'd first sucked (and been sucked) by this man, but I was now entirely at home in his company.
Warren lifted himself a little then moved his leg over my body to straddle me. At first he took his weight on his knees, lowering his head onto my cock, wrapping it completely inside a warm, wet grotto. The sensation was divine.
There are many ways a cock can be pleasured by someone's mouth, and Warren was sucking me in what, over the years, I've come to think of as the `vagina way'. My penis was completely engulfed in a mouth that was overflowing with saliva, which felt pretty much as I imaged it would be inside the vagina of a very aroused woman (not that I've ever had that experience, to be honest). A skilled sucker uses his cheeks and tongue, moving them very gently and exerting varying degrees of pressure of the cock, all the while moving his head to help the dick work itself up and down, inwards and outwards. It doesn't need to be a harsh or violent movement – a gentle sucking has always been my favourite.
Warren was, of course, a master of many techniques, including this one. For a time I just lay back and luxuriated in the sensations to which he was treating me, pushing up and pulling back slightly in time with Warren's sucking to augment the sensation of fucking his face. I turned my head to the right and although there was no light on in the room there was sufficient moonlight flowing in for me to make out our connected bodies in the mirror of Warren's dressing table. It was like watching a black and white porn movie in which I was staring.
I moved my hands onto his bum and, still watching the show in the mirror, began stroking his buttocks with the tips of my fingers. Warren responded by lowering the bottom part of his body onto mine. He squatted, still supporting his own weight, but now his anus was suspended a couple of inches above me, practically sitting on my face. I pulled him down a little and began to give him the same pleasure that he'd given me a short while earlier. As I licked between his buttocks on the smooth skin I appreciated what he'd said about hairiness. I wetted all around his anus as he'd done to me, and then tightened my tongue and moved it inside him. As soon as I did that I felt his muscles relax, allowing me easy access. Clearly decades of bum sex had given him great control over that part of his body.
Within seconds my tongue was in as far as it could go, and I was twisting it around from one way to the other. As I did that I sensed Warren tighten the pressure of his sucking on my cock, and felt the early stages of my own inevitable move towards my third orgasm of the day. I brought my hand round to play with Warren's cock which was now covered in pre-cum which was moving its way down his shaft like a volcano seeping lava. From the back I pushed my head upwards, ensuring that my tongue remained as deep inside him as I could manage, and with my hand I rubbed him gently but with a swift tempo.
I withdrew my tongue and brought my wanking hand to my mouth so I could lick it to wet the palm, then quickly returned to work on both his arse and his dick, licking and entering the former and gently using my now wet fist on the latter. A combination of the spit in my palm and the pre-cum on his shaft made his cock very slick, and I started to up the tempo with which my hand was moving. Unconsciously my tightened tongue started to lap at his rear hole in time with this.
It wasn't long before Warren's arse muscles began to tighten, which I took as a signal that he was not far from shooting, so I further upped the speed at which I was pulling his cock whilst gyrating my own middle into his mouth in time to encourage my own orgasm.
Suddenly Warren's arse clamped around my tongue and I felt my hand became moist and warm as Warren began to shoot. I pulled my tongue out of his arse and took a deep breath as I too began to cum. After my first shot Warren released me from his mouth and started to jerk my dick fairly quickly and we maintained a common rhythm as we wanked each other. Despite having already ejaculated twice that afternoon I still shot copious amounts of spunk up onto Warren's face a he leant over me, writhing in pleasure as my bum lifted off the bed with each spurt. As Warren continued to come his buttocks clamped together forcing my face back and he let out a deep manly groan as each dollop of semen left him. I turned back towards the mirror and caught the last couple of shots from each of us – one of the most erotic things I have ever seen.
Then our orgasms subsided. Warren gave a huge sigh and gently let his body weight fall on top of me. We rested like that, exhausted and sticky, in a post orgasmic haze, for a while, until Warren lifted himself up, climbed off me, turned around and lay down next to me, face to face. In the darkened room I could still make out his grin, which was that of a cheeky schoolboy.
I grinned back and kissed him. His whole face was covered in my spunk and as we snogged bits of it were transferred to mine. I started to lick around his face to clean it up, and instantly started to bone up again at the thought that I was licking my own semen off him. He felt across to my belly and began to rub his palm around the pool of his own ejaculate, and he continued to do the after I'd cleaned his face and we'd joined together in a kiss.
It wasn't long before both of us had drifted off to sleep.