This is a story that involves a little sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
My thanks to Brian who has read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Thank you to those who have commented on my stories. If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. but please, after 8th May 2010, I am away until then. I aim to reply to all messages eventually.
If you wish to be added to or removed from a chapter post notification list, please send an email with your request to jeffyrks@gmail.com
Peter Broad's Story
Raymond, Cricket and George Riley.
The first weeks of the summer term were very busy for Peter. There were exams towards the end, and he decided it was important to get his head into his books. He planned a full revision schedule and worked hard each day.
His meetings with Raymond dropped off to once a week, when they went for a walk on the Sunday afternoon. They either walked round the University Park, or went into Wollaton Park.
Raymond spoke little of work, more of visits into town, or films he had seen. His social life was in no way curtailed by the approach of exams. Raymond was still holding out hopes for sex with Peter.
"If you say yes' at the end of the term, or even feel like saying yes' during the vac, we could go off in September to somewhere and enjoy each other. Even a week in Greece, say Mykonos, where a lot of gays go, would be wonderful. What a more wonderful place to have your first experience of gay sex than Mykonos."
Peter would laugh. "Don't count your chickens. I have not said `yes' yet."
"I know you have not. I feel you are moving. Are you not closer to saying `yes' now than you were when we first met before Christmas?"
"Yes, I do think you are right." He gave Raymond a push, and they both laughed.
They went back to one or the others room for a drink. Then they would part, always having a hug.
Peter allowed himself one game of cricket a week. He did quite well. He was happy with his batting average, slightly better than his average during his last term at school, so he was improving in that department. He also took a handful of wickets. He never reckoned himself to be much of a bowler, so he was pleased. Two of the mere handful had broken long partnerships by opposing batsmen, so he gained a reputation in the team of being a useful partnership breaker.
The only trouble at the start of the season was that George Riley was in the same team. George continued to make his taunting whispers to Peter, but they were never said in the hearing of other team members. George was an opening batsman, and on several occasion his opening partner and the next batsman were out quickly and cheaply. George and Peter got their heads down, and put together a sizeable number of runs. As George began to respect Peter as a batsman the remarks became less frequent. The time they clocked up a hundred partnership for the third wicket, George whispered in his ear, "Go on like this and I'll line up the side to give you a blow job, one a night for fifteen, no fourteen nights. You must count me out."
Peter laughed.
-0---0---0-
The second Party at Ben and Clive's
The exams came and went, and that strange spell of University life began. Students awaited the results, and some departments seemed to stop work for the remaining couple of weeks of term. Peter's department resumed lectures and tutorials, and the work proceeded, and did so until the very last day of term.
The other activity which took up quite a bit of time over the last few weeks was finding somewhere to live for the next year. Half way through the year Peter and two other lads in his hall had decided that they would find a house to live in for the next year. They viewed several houses. Some recommended were a long way from the University, and others for a variety of reasons did not appeal. Eventually they were lucky enough to discover a house in Chilwell, not too far from the University, and on the right side of Nottingham. It was being vacated by four research students whose University careers were drawing to a close. Peter was pleased, in that it was not very far from Ben and Clive's.
Just before the exams Peter had received an envelope in his pigeon hole. It was written in the familiar small neat script. It was an invitation to another gay get together at Ben and Clive's. There was a hand-written postscript. `Sorry not to have seen so much of you this term. I did not invite you round because I thought you would be working hard for your exams. Right? Hope they went well. Looking forward to catching up on all the news. Love Ben.'
Peter went hoping that Anton would be there. This time Peter was one of the first to arrive. Each time there was a knock at the door he hoped that it would be Anton, but it never was. He recognised some of the men from the last time, one or two appeared to be there for the first time. The talk was good. The food was good. There was plenty of drink.
Towards the end of the evening, when it happened that Peter was standing alone, Clive came across. "I hope you have enjoyed yourself?"
"Yes, very much."
"I get the feeling you are disappointed that someone is not here."
"How come? Was it that obvious?" said Peter, blushing slightly.
"I noticed that whenever someone arrived you looked across hopefully, and when you saw who it was, there was a look of slight disappointment on your face. Who was it? You can trust me."
Peter blushed even more, "I was rather hoping Anton would be here again."
Clive smiled. "Anton is working this evening, that is why he couldn't come. You could do far worse. Anton is a good lad, one of the best. I will see what I can do." Before Peter could respond, Clive patted his arm and walked away.
-0---0---0-
Two days later Peter received a letter from Anton. `Clive told me this morning that you had been asking after me at their party the other evening. I am afraid I could not get. I no longer work on Clive's ward, so he could not fix the duty rota as he did last time. What about meeting up at Rutters next Tuesday at 7.30? I do not have a free evening until then. Or will you be gone home for the holidays? Yours Anton.'
Anton left his hospital phone number, and on the third attempt Peter spoke to him, and confirmed the meeting.
Term was now in its final few days. He had a final interview with his tutor. He knew he had done quite well in the exams, but his tutor was very encouraging. He suggested that Peter keep his work ticking over during the long vac., gave him a book list of nearly fifteen books, and suggested he read as many of them as possible. If he continued to work as hard, he was a strong candidate for a first class honours degree. Anyway have a good vac.
Work had virtually stopped, just one lecture for Peter on the Tuesday morning. Then it was home to Whitgest on Wednesday, and starting his vac job at the Hermitage on Monday. So on the Tuesday evening he caught the bus into the centre of Nottingham. As it ploughed its way up Derby Road towards Canning Circus, he wondered how the evening would go. He began to have second thoughts. He had only spoken to Anton for those few minutes just before Easter. Would Anton read too much into what Clive had said to him? Perhaps they would not get on at all. He got off the bus and made his way through town towards the Rutland Arms. As he crossed the Old Market Square, affectionately known to generations of students as `slab' square, he felt the heat from the very hot afternoon sun still coming off the paving stones.
He entered the pub, and Anton was standing at the bar, with a pint in his hand.
"Hi, good to see you. What will you have?"
Peter asked for a pint of bitter.
"Good for you," said Anton. "I am glad to see that you are not a lager lout, like so many poncy students."
"Cheers," said Peter raising his glass. "I needed that after the heat of today. I even had a lecture this morning. The last day of term." There was a slightly awkward pause. "What sort of day have you had?"
"In bed, asleep mostly. I've just finished what has seemed like a bloody long spell on nights, and I needed to get some sleep in. I woke about 4.00 did some washing, cleaned up my flat, and then did a bit of shopping. Somehow such routine things don't get done when I'm on nights."
"How long have you been at the hospital?"
"About eighteen months. I hope to qualify as a psychiatric nurse in a couple of months. I did general nursing at Jimmy's in Leeds."
"So you've known Clive for eighteen months, then?"
"Yep. He was in charge of my first ward. He's a big man. Big in every way. I couldn't have wished for a better boss. There were two of us student nurses on his ward. Both starting at the same time. He gave us time, and taught us how he wanted things done, even the most elementary. I think it was on the fifth or sixth day when he was showing me where some linen was kept, and we were alone together, that he asked me, Are you gay?' I think I blushed bright red, and blurted out, How did you know?' He gave the usual reply, It takes one to know one.' Are you too?' I asked, totally gob smacked. `Yes, I am too. Most folk around here know about me. I have had no hassle, maybe because people are afraid of what I might do to them in some dark alley. And you take that in which ever way you wish! If you do have any trouble, have a word with me.' How long have you known him?"
"Only since just before Christmas. I knew Ben years ago, our brothers were friends, and the families lived in the same village. When he was eighteen and I was a seven or eight year old, Ben was exiled from home because he was gay. I didn't see him again till the end of the autumn term, when we ran into each other. I've seen quite a lot of them both since then."
"They seem a great couple, though unusual in many ways. Their backgrounds are so different. Ben is a scholar, and Clive certainly is not that. But they seem totally committed to each other."
"Ben told me their story. I think their different backgrounds and interests have led to a widening of horizons for both of them."
"So where do you and Ben come from?"
"From a small village called Whitgest in Hertfordshire. You're from the north east aren't you?"
"Yes, my accent is a dead give away. I am Sunderland born and bred and proud of it. Though I wouldn't want to go back there to live again. It doesn't have very happy memories. Mostly bloody bad ones. Do your folk know that you are gay?"
"No. Not at all. There'd be all hell to pay if they found out." Peter hesitated and glanced around, he was conscious that the bar was crowded.
Anton picked up the hesitation. "It is rather noisy and crowded in here. Let's go for a walk. We can then talk more freely."
They finished up their drinks and made their way out into the street. They walked across town, and across Maid Marian Way and made their way up to Nottingham Castle. There they found a park bench, and they both sat down. The sun was beginning to set, into a distant bank of dark clouds.
Peter spoke about his strict religious background. He and Ben came from similar churchgoing families. The Menzies family had thrown Ben out. He then gave a brief account of the events of the last term, and a fuller account of the inquisition. "Yes, my parents would be horrified if they found out. I dread to think what would happen. But what about you? Do your parents know?"
"No. My background is very different from yours. My father worked in the ship yards, until they closed down. He is a tough working class man. I come from a small terraced house, with four brothers and a couple of sisters, and very little personal privacy. My father was outspoken in his remarks about gays, or `nancy boys' as he called them. There would be physical violence if he knew."
"When did you begin to know that you were gay?"
"Quite early on. Before I was into double figures I realised I was not quite the same as the other lads. I didn't like football, and other things that a lot of the other boys got up to. I was always a bit of a loner. I was also a bit brighter than most of the other lads in my class. I realised that if I was to be true to myself I needed to get away. I don't think I knew for several years exactly why I was different. I knew the only way to get away, and not end up unemployed or in some dead end job, was to make the most of my education. So I worked quite hard at school. That, of course, made me different. The other lads took it out on me. Being good at lessons was in their eyes sissy. I was caught in a sort of vicious circle. I was not good enough to go to University, and in any case I wanted to do something with and for people. Much to my father's disapproval, I took up nursing. I did four years at Jimmy's in Leeds. Then the eighteen months here."
"Do you see much of your folk?"
"I go back at Christmas time or for the New Year depending on my duty. I usually pop back for a weekend in the summer. They've got their life. And I'm making mine."
"So you must be older than me."
"I'm twenty three. How old are you?"
"Nineteen. You have not told me how you realised that you were gay.
"It was when the other lads started getting really interested in girls. They talked about the merits of the girls in the class. Then they started seeing how far they could go and boasting about how far they had gone. You know the sort of thing."
"Yes. The same thing happened for me at my school."
"I began to realise," said Anton, "that I wasn't interested in sex with girls. The thought of sex with another boy, or with a man, was quite late in coming into my thinking. I think looking back on it, it was the family set up. We were all cooped up in a small house. I could never have any privacy. We four brothers slept in one bed room. In bunks. That is, until my elder brother married at nineteen and moved out. Then there were still three of us. I couldn't have any private possessions. I couldn't have any books, porn, or otherwise about sex, without my brothers or my mother knowing. There was nowhere to hide such things. I think the first time I slept in a room on my own was in the hospital nurses quarters at Leeds. For the first time I could have things that were mine, and which were not known to anybody else. When I was at home the only privacy I ever got was going out on my bicycle. I used to do that a lot. It was a relief to get away to Leeds."
"What did you do when you got there? Go out and buy a stack of gay porn?"
"No I didn't," said Anton laughing. "I saved up, and as soon as I could I bought a motor bike. But I did join the public library, and got out one or two books about homosexuality. There was one about How to be a Happy Homosexual. I found it very illuminating. But what about you?"
"During my final few years at school I had a steady girl friend. Her name was Janet. A very nice girl. On the last night of the summer holidays, nearly a year ago now, she told me that she thought I might be gay. I was horrified. Quite angry in fact. There was something else. Ever since puberty I've had these vivid sexual dreams. They were always with a man. That worried me. But I think they were showing what I really was. In fact it is only over the last ten months or so that I have begun to realise that I was gay." Peter realised that with these words he was making a significant admission. He was saying openly to another, that he was gay. It was the first time. He thought for moment, as to whether he was happy with the admission, and decided he was.
He got up. "Isn't it close? I think it is going to storm. Let's walk again."
They walked slowly past the General Hospital, and then up the Ropewalk towards Canning Circus. Anton started the next stage of their conversation. "How do you square your being gay, and your strict religious upbringing?"
"The short answer is that I don't. The longer answer is that I think I am beginning to see the way forward."
"Why don't you give up your religion? Quite a significant number of gays I have spoken to have a back ground like yours. They've just given it all up, when they discovered and began to express their sexuality. It seems to me the Church is full of bloody gay haters."
"I don't know that I could do that. I hope it will not be necessary. My faith means too much to me. You may find this difficult to understand. In telling you I run the risk of sounding a pious goody goody. At the heart of my faith there is a living relationship. Jesus means more to me than merely being a person who lived nearly 2000 years ago. Who did wonderful things: taught wonderful truths, and ended up dying on a cross. He did those things. But I feel that.... no, I want a stronger word than feel. I know that I know him. I relate to him as a person. For me he is alive and true. I relate to him. I run the risk of sounding sentimental. There is a real sense in which I love him, and I know that he loves me.....Sorry about that. I did not mean to preach a sermon. But that is the only way I can answer your question."
They walked on for a moment before Anton responded. "That's all right. I don't feel preached at. I don't understand, at least from my personal experience, what you are talking about. It obviously means a lot to you. I respect you for it. I think it cost you something to tell me. Thank you."
They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then Peter asked, "What about you? Do you have any religious background?"
"No, fuck all. My mother was brought up a Roman Catholic of sorts. I think she went to mass up until she got married. They got married in a church. I think Dad did that just to please Mum, and her family. But once married my father knocked it out of her. Though he was never a member of the communist party, there was a lot of communist ideology in him. For him religion was the opiate of the people. I think my mother had to put up with a withering barrage of ridicule and abuse until she stopped her church going. Even then Dad frequently condemned religion in all its shapes and forms. I have hardly ever been inside a church. Does that shock you?"
"No, not at all. It's interesting. I will have to try and convert you!" They both laughed.
"You have not answered my original question. How do you reconcile your faith and your sexuality? How are you beginning to see your way forward?"
"One of the things that I have come to realise since coming up to University and meeting other people, is that there are many very sincere and good Christians, who do not go all the way with me over matters of doctrine and so on. There is a theolog, that is a student studying theology, who is in the same hall as me. He too is a member of the Church of England. He wants to become a priest. He seems to me to be almost a Roman Catholic. When we talk together about churchy things, we disagree a lot. When we talk about doctrine, sometimes we agree, sometimes we don't. But when we talk about what our faith means to us, though we use slightly different language. He's the same as me. To use the words that I used a few minutes ago, we both love Jesus, and we believe that Jesus loves us both. Meeting this guy, and talking to him, has been an eye opening experience for me."
"I see."
"But there is something else. When I was beginning to sort myself out, I went to talk to Ben and Clive. They were unable to help me on the religion versus sexuality issue. But Clive fixed it up for me to meet Ron, the chaplain at your hospital."
"I didn't know you knew him."
"I had a long talk with him. He pointed out some of the inconsistencies in my own position. He also pointed to a way forward. A fresh way, at least a fresh way for me, of looking at what the Bible says."
They now came to Canning Circus, where they turned down Derby Road, back into town. Peter now put a question to Anton, "Tell me about your time in Leeds, it sounds as though it was an important time."
"It was in every way. It was the first time I'd had a room, with time and space, to myself. I thoroughly enjoyed that, though I did find it a bit strange at first. Then there was the work, I enjoyed it, and worked hard, and did quite well. But I expect it is the sexual side you are really wanting to know about. Am I right?"
"Yes, you spoke about books from the library, but surely it was not all head knowledge."
"You are right. I had my first sex with a fellow student nurse. I think he seduced me, though I was willing to be seduced. Our affair, if you call it that, lasted for about eighteen months. Then he got a job in Bristol, and moved down there. That was the end of it. Since then I have had one or two brief relationships, nothing lasting."
They made their way back to the Old Market Square, and decided they were in need of another drink.
"Let's not go back to Rutters, it will be crowded and noisy at this time of the evening. I don't want a pick up tonight. So let's go the Trip to Jerusalem, beneath the castle."
They made their way again across town and Maid Marian Way, to Castle Boulevard. The air seemed closer and heavier than ever. Again they were deep in conversation. When they went to cross Wheeler Gate Anton grabbed Peter's arm, so that they crossed together. It was their first physical contact. Peter smiled at Anton.
Anton asked about gay life at the University, and Peter's reply was largely based on Raymond's account of what was going on. He also told Anton about George Riley, and the difficulty he had faced not knowing how to deal with the taunts. They then discussed various aspects of homophobia. When they arrived at the Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem, Peter went in first, and held the door open for Anton. As Anton went through Peter gave his back a gentle pat. Again grins were exchanged.
Though it was by now getting late, the bar was still fairly crowded. Peter made his way through and ordered a couple of bitters.
"I can sure do with that," said Anton downing most of it in one go, and wiping the froth from his mouth with the back of his hand.
They stood around. They made snatches of conversation, but real talking was difficult in the bar. The atmosphere became slightly awkward between them. Both felt a significant moment was approaching, neither wanted the evening to come to an end.
Anton filled one pause, "Have another? "
Peter nodded, and Anton now made his way through to the bar and came back with a couple of pints. They stood, and drank. The words became fewer.
"Would you like to come back to my place?" asked Anton.
Peter paused before answering. He knew what would be involved. He knew he would soon be missing the last bus, and after that, it was a three mile walk back to hall. He nodded slowly. "Yes. I'd like to."
They finished their drinks, and Anton took the empty glasses and went to put them on the bar. In the few seconds that Anton was gone, Peter thought. `Yes, if ever he was to cross the sexual Rubicon, Anton was someone he would like to do it with, and now was as good a time as any. It would confirm his sexuality one way or the other.'
Anton returned, they smiled. Anton signified the door with his open hand. They left the Olde Trip to Jerusalem.
"I live in a small flat in the Park. As you probably know it is a large estate of large private houses, built by the lace makers of Nottingham in the last century. Most of the large spacious houses have been converted into flats. I live in the attic flat, if you can call it that, in one of the large houses. The ground floor is one flat, where the landlord lives. He is a very prosperous solicitor. The next floor is divided into two flats. One is occupied by a couple of school teachers, and the other by a young married couple, I don't know what they do. The attic rooms are divided into two very small apartments, you cannot really call them flats. It suits me down to the ground being at the top of the house. It is fairly quiet during the day, and I need that to sleep when I am on nights."
They were soon at Anton's; 17 Devonshire Crescent East. Anton led the way through the front gate, and then round to the side of the house. "We use the old servant's staircase to get to all the flats." He unlocked a door, and pushed on the light. It was one of those with a time mechanism. "There is just comfortable time to get to the top." They made their way up the stairs. Anton unlocked one of the doors at the top, switched on the light, and stood back for Peter to enter.
The room that Peter entered was of moderate size. It was furnished with a single bed in one corner, a table and three hard chairs. There was one very comfortable looking easy chair, a wardrobe, and some book shelves. On a small side table was a CD player, with a stack of CDs. There was also a small television. Off the main room was a large alcove, which was the kitchen recess. Peter could see the usual paraphernalia, fridge, cooker, and even a washing machine. Along side the kitchen recess was a very small bathroom, shower, hand basin and loo. The apartment was made attractive, and given character by two windows, on opposite sides of the room. Anton had made the room attractive by putting up some colourful posters. One of which perhaps, revealed his sexuality. It was of a young man standing naked, up to his thighs in water fishing. It was a back view, but the man was turning so that his face could be seen.
Anton saw what Peter was looking at. "Like it?"
"Yea. Great. I was just thinking that I could not have that up at home, or in hall, without giving the game away."
"The loo etc. are in there," said Anton, showing Peter.
"Yes, I need that." Peter disappeared into the tiny bathroom. When he came back into the main room, he found that Anton had opened both windows as wide as possible. A very slight movement of air began to drift through the room, but it brought very little relief to the prevailing heat. Anton handed Peter a can of bitter and then made his way into the loo. Peter flopped down into the easy chair, sprawling with his legs out. Anton returned and stood for a moment looking down at Peter. They smiled. Again the atmosphere became awkward. Both knew what was on the mind of the other, but neither knew how to break the barrier that was forming between them.
"The only trouble with this place is the water tank for the whole house is behind that wall, so you get the noise of the water pipes. But you get used to that."
There was another pause.
"Would you like something to eat?" asked Anton, more for something to say.
"No, I'm all right. Thank you."
There was another silence. Anton knelt, and then sat on the floor cross legged in front of Peter.
"I have got something that I ought to tell you," said Peter. "A sort of confession." He paused. "I have never done anything like this before. I have never had any form of sex with any other person."
Anton got back on to his knees, and kneeling closely in front of Peter put his forearms on Peter's knees. "I wondered what you were going to say for a moment. Thank you for telling me. I had wondered from what you did not say while we were talking. I am not an expert. At the moment, for starters, I want to give you a hug and a kiss. But it is so damn awkward with that chair you are in; I don't know how to begin."
"That is what I would like."
Anton stood up, and took Peter's hand and gently raised him to his feet. Anton leant forward and kissed Peter gently on the lips. As he pulled slightly back, Peter responded by leaning forward and kissing Anton. This time it was not so gentle. The barrier was broken. Both pairs of arms came up, and embraced the other one. They squeezed each other. They laughed quickly, and then kissed deeper. Their tongues made contact. Anton's hands began to stroke Peter's back, each stroke a little lower, until his buttocks were being given a gentle fondle. Anton directed Peter towards the bed. As if directed by a single mind, both bent down and removed their shoes. Anton lay down on the bed, and signaled for Peter to lie at his side. They kissed, and kissed, and hands again began to explore backs.
"I'm getting a hard on," confessed Peter.
"So am I. But plenty of time for that. All night. Is this really your first time?"
"Yes, really."
"If I start doing something you don't want to do, just say no' or stop'. We have a whole night ahead of us to enjoy each other." He gave Peter another deep tonguing kiss. His hands began to caress Peter's head and neck, and then began to undo the shirt buttons, so that his hands could explore chest and nipples. It was a completely smooth and hairless chest. When the shirt was completely undone, Peter sat up and Anton removed it completely, and threw it aside. Anton's kisses now began to go where his hands had already gone.
After a while Peter began to take action. All the evening he had been fascinated by the profusion of black hair that was revealed by the unbuttoned collar of Anton's shirt. As he undid the shirt, he discovered that the hair became even thicker.
"You're a hairy one."
"I know. It's in the genes. My father and brothers are all the same. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. It's great." Peter rubbed his fingers through the thick hairs of Anton's chest..
They continued to kiss, and hug and caress each other.
Anton's hands began to feel through the trousers. He lightly grasped Peter's cock. "That feels good." They smiled. Again they kissed, and hugged each other. Now Anton pulled down the zip on Peter's jeans. His hand went in and began to fondle Peter's very hard and erect cock through his underpants.
"I'm near cumming" said Peter. He pulled away and sat up, then he pulled off his jeans, and they were thrown to one side. When he turned back he began to do the same to Anton, who just lay back and enjoyed it all. Peter tugged off Anton's jeans, and threw them on top of his own. Now both hands were at each other's cocks. Anton then pulled off Peter's pants, and threw them on top of the growing pile of discarded clothing. He then pulled off his own. They clung to each other. The narrowness of the bed stopped them rolling over each other, but their hairy legs entwined. They tried to get even closer to each other in a ferment of tongues, lips, arms and legs and two cocks pressed closely together.
Anton broke away, twisting and kneeling on the bed he took Peter's rampant cock in his mouth. That was it. Nothing more was needed. Peter came in a copious load into Anton's mouth. He lay back enjoying the sensation.
"I'm sorry I came so quickly. I'm sorry I came in your mouth. I couldn't do anything about it."
"Stop saying sorry," said Anton giving Peter a wet spunky kiss. "I'm not sorry you came. And certainly not sorry you came in my mouth. You taste great. I'll be wanting more, lots more."
They lay back facing each other. Peter's cock rapidly going flaccid, Anton's still erect and hard. "Don't feel you have to do the same to me. I know you have never done it before."
"I'll have a go," said Peter, in his turn kneeling on the bed. He kissed Anton's mouth, and then slowly, gently with many light kisses, he moved down Anton's body. By the time he reached the erect cock, Anton was in a state of high arousal. Peter kissed Anton's cock several times, and then took it in his mouth. It was not there long before Anton came.
They both lay back exhausted, looking at each other. Occasionally touching each other. Occasionally kissing each other.
"That was a first too for me."
"How? In what way?"
"It was the first time I have made love to a man with a cut prick. Were you circumcised as a kid, or as an adult? We used to have the occasional man in hospital for circumcision because his foreskin was too tight."
"It was done as a baby. The doctor thought I was too tight. My brother is uncut."
They held each other's cock. Each wondering what it was like to have one like the other, and whether there was any real difference.
"Would you like another drink?"
"Yes, please. That was thirsty work."
Anton got off the bed, walked over to the fridge, and removed another couple of cans of bitter. "I am afraid that is the end of my beer supply. It will have to be tea, coffee, or water from now."
They both sat on the edge of the bed. Their sides were touching. Neither wanted to break from the closeness with the other. The room continued to feel breathless and hot. Drinks finished, Anton got up and pulled off the duvet, on which they had made love. He went to a cupboard and got out a sheet. "I think we will only need this to cover us."
He turned off the light. Their eyes soon adjusted to the afterglow of a late summers evening in the sky, and the street lights which were shining below.
They both got back into bed; they hugged and kissed several times, and then fell asleep.
-0---0---0- 33.
About two hours later Peter slowly returned to consciousness. He opened his eyes, and the flicker of lightening and the distant rumble of thunder showed him why he had awoken. They were lying like a couple of spoons side by side. He could hear Anton's steady, deep sleep breathing, and feel the warmth of his breath on his neck. He could feel a slight tickle of hairs on his back. Their legs touched. He also thought he could feel Anton's limpid cock resting against his right buttock. An arm lay sprawled over his side. Peter felt completely at ease.
The lightning flashed, and there was a further rumble of thunder. Peter started to count slowly between the sight and the sound, as he used to as a child. Yes, the storm was coming nearer. Probably it was moving down the Trent valley. Some rain would break the clammy heat of the last few days. He began to think over the events of the last few hours. He felt he had crossed his sexual Rubicon, and he felt secure, at peace, at home. Perhaps all things would be well.
He was beginning to drift off to sleep when they were both startled by a bright flash of lightning, followed immediately with a tremendous crack of thunder, and the sound of heavy rain. Anton sat up in bed. "So the storm has come. I must see if there is any rain coming in." He clambered over Peter, and made his way across to the windows. Peter watched as the dim figure partially closed each window. Twice it was lit by a fresh flash of lightning. "That should be all right." He clambered back into bed, into Peter's open arms.
Their second love making was less hurried, more gentle, more exploratory into the other's likes and dislikes. They were oblivious to the storm, with its savage cracks and ponderous rolls of thunder that sounded just above their heads. As the storm began to move away, the intervals lengthened, and the thunder became a distant rumble, they fell into a deep sleep.
Two hours later they woke again. The room was bright with the fresh sunshine of a summer day. The air felt cooler, and the curtains stirred in the gentle breeze.
"I could do with a cup of tea," said Anton.
"Same here. Good idea."
Anton got out of bed, and went over to the kitchen alcove to make the tea. He got out a packet of biscuits. Peter watched him. "I think the Greeks got it right."
"What do you mean?"
"I think, more than any other race, they saw beauty in the male body. Watching you move around, and knowing that I have held that body of yours, I agree with them."
"I have not got a beautiful body. I am a bloody hairy freak."
"No you are not. Your hairiness underlines your masculinity."
Anton turned, put out his tongue, and grinned. "I am glad you like it. For me my hairiness is a bloody nuisance. They get all over the place. Just look where I have been lying." Peter looked, and yes, there were quite a number of loose hairs in the bed. "I have to do something about them every couple of days, and it's not easy. I can't use the vacuum cleaner on the sheet."
He got back into bed, and the two of them sat up together, each with a mug of hot tea in their hands. They munched their way through the packet of biscuits. They shared their different backgrounds with mutual interest. Anton had never talked freely and at length to a person from a middle class, southern background, who spoke with a polished accent, who was obviously highly intelligent and well read for his age. Peter had never really met a Geordie before. He was now used to the strong accent. He was astonished at the hardness of working class life, where every penny had to be counted. He had never had to share a bedroom on a regular basis, certainly not for the first seventeen years of his life. There had always been plenty of money in his family. His father was very generous to him, giving him well over and above what he had to contribute to his son's education. Once Anton had got a job he had never received a penny from his parents, and did not expect to do so. Their holidays were so different. For his age Peter was quite well traveled in Europe, as well as in this country. Anton's travels had been limited to bus travel to Newcastle, and the range of an old push bike. He had never left the North East until he moved down to Leeds.
So they talked on. Sometimes they exchanged a kiss, sometimes a gentle touch, each delighting in the other.
They heard the distant sound of the clock on the Council House in the Old Market Square strike 6.00.
"I'll have to be going soon. I have not even begun to pack." I have got to take everything with me, and my mother will be up to collect me, and will be arriving about 11.00."
"Not too quickly." He kissed Peter, "Once more, and then you can have a shower, while I make you a good northern breakfast."
"Black pudding?"
No. That is the one thing I've not got."
"I've never had black pudding."
"Then next time, I'll certainly get you black pudding. There will be a next time, won't there?"
"I certainly hope so. Though it'll probably not be until the very end of September, and that'll be if I come up a few days early."
Again they enjoyed each other, and were fulfilled.
It was the sound of seven striking that got Peter moving. Anton handed him a towel, and he disappeared into the tiny bathroom. As he dried himself he heard the sounds of Anton moving around, and the smell of fried bacon. When he came out of the bathroom he discovered his clothes in a neat pile on the bed, with another neat pile alongside. Anton was still naked.
"I'm usually in the nuddy when alone up here. I like the feel of freedom. This morning I seem to have an appreciative audience."
Peter went to put on his clothes. "Hold on mate! I too like to feast my eyes. Don't spoil it too soon. It is going to be a very long time until I can see you again."
It was a full works fried breakfast. Both were ravenous. Both enjoyed it. But words were beginning to become difficult. They knew the time to part was getting steadily closer. There was much that both wanted to say. Neither of them knew how to say it. Both feared sounding sloppy and sentimental.
Breakfast finished, Peter stood up, and gave a sad smile. "I really must be going." He began to get dressed. Anton watched. When Peter was fully dressed, they gave each other a hug, exchanged kisses, neither wanting to make the break."
"I really must be going."
"Hold on, while I get dressed. I'll come with you to the bus."
The walk to the bus was painful. Few words were exchanged. The bus soon came. Neither dared show emotion in public in the centre of Nottingham. There was a fleeting furtive grasp of hands, and then Peter climbed into the bus.
"See you in September."
The bus began to move. They waved, and each was left with his thoughts.