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The next few days were busy as we prepared to arrive in Southampton. We had a few double shifts and barely had time to eat and the rest of the time we were asleep. I was glad of this since it took my mind off various trains of thought that beckoned me down paths I was afraid to travel.
Once we arrived and the dock hands took over unloading, we were free for three days before we had to return to New York. We stood on the dock trying to decide what to do. Greg looked at me, his face surprised.
"Well, obviously we're going to London. Like where else would we go?"
I knew he was right. "Yeah. Where else? Let's get a train."
I loved English trains: they're so civilized compared to what we have in North America. They seem to have figured it out in a way that we probably never will.
After about an hour, we arrived at Waterloo station which at that time of day was chaos. That seemed familiar at least, since it felt like New York. We agreed that we would find some lunch first, then decide on how to spend our three days. I warned Greg that everything is expensive, including lunch, so we found a cheap takeaway and had kebabs.
The next problem was to find a place to sleep. The last time I was there, I stayed in a ratty little hotel that didn't charge a fortune and luckily it was still there and still cheap. What I hadn't thought through was the fact that we would be sharing a room. Actually, a bed. We couldn't afford two rooms and none of them had two beds. I inwardly gulped, but went along with it. I would think about that later and as we left the hotel and entered the vast, ancient city, I soon forgot about it.
We spent the day like tourists, which we were. The Tower, The British Museum, Westminster Abbey. You know, the usual stuff that hordes of people the world over come to see. When we finally had had enough, we found a pub near the British Museum that probably started serving beer centuries ago.
Greg was in a mood and we tried a number of different beer on tap: dark, light and everything in between. I was a bit drunk and despite the mass of fish and chips I wolfed down, stayed that way. Greg seemed to have a higher tolerance than I did so he took it upon himself to take care of me as I weaved down the street to the hotel afterward.
I collapsed on the bed as soon as we got in the room and felt the room spinning a little. I sat up, trying not to feel sick. "I don't feel that great...let's watch TV for a while..."
Greg laughed, "You are a cheap drunk!" But he turned to the TV on a we stared at some stupid game show for a while. He was lying beside me on the bed and at first I didn't really notice, but after a while, I became aware of the warmth of him. His arm was close to mine and our feet were almost touching. Soon it was all I was aware of. I sat up and went to the bathroom to clear my head and calm myself. When I came out of the washroom, Greg had taken off his shirt and was fiddling with the remote on the TV. Then he tossed it on the table beside the bed. "Stupid thing. There isn't even any porn. What kind of a hotel is this?"
What surprised me was it had never occurred to me to watch porn when I stayed at hotels. I was really getting the sense that I was had avoided all kinds of things. I flopped down beside him with a sigh. I closed my eyes and enjoyed being still. At least the room had stopped spinning. Greg's voice pulled me out of my haze.
"Let's jerk off! There's nothing else to do."
Again I was amazed at his almost impossible lack of self-consciousness. I opened my eyes and he was already pulling his pants down. He turned to me. "Come on...it's more fun with two."
We had done this before, but this felt different. We were in the same bed and so close together we could almost touch. But since I was relatively numb, I shrugged and undid my fly and slid my pants down. I pulled my underwear down and again I was already hard. I didn't even realize it until I saw it. I just lay there looking at my cock.
"Don't just admire it..." and Greg laughed.
I took my cock in my hand and gave it a few strokes. I turned to him, "You have any...?"
"Oh right. He leaned over the side of the bed and produced the little bottle. He opened it and squirted lube all over the head of my cock and then, to my utter amazement, used his other hand to spread it around. His hand was on my cock. My mind kind of exploded at the sensation of another person touching me. Touching me there. I just looked at his hand on my cock.
Then he let go and settled back against his pillow, smoothing his own dick and sighing. "Nice. Doesn't that feel great?"
I was silent, but I started slowly stroking myself, trying to watch him doing the same thing. We were silent for a while and there was just the wet sound of our hands sliding on our cocks. Then he said, "You wanna tell stories?"
I looked over at him. "Um...sure?"
"You don't sound convinced."
"I'm a little drunk..."
"Yeah, I can see that!" And he laughed. Then he did something that shocked me again. With his left hand he grabbed my right and pulled it over and put it on his cock. "Take over, will you? It's more fun." Then he reached over and grabbed mine and starting pumping it at first gently, then with more energy. My mind was empty and all I could be aware of was the feeling of his hand on me. I closed my eyes for a moment. I heard his voice again, "You can do the same on mine..."
I opened my eyes, suddenly guilty. I slid my hand on him, amazed that this was even happening. His cock was a little thicker than mine and I was really aware of the difference. But it was hard to concentrate on what I was doing because the feeling in my own cock had taken over my body. I managed to keep pumping his and I realized it felt good to hear him start to moan a little under his breath. He looked at me and smiled. "Really nice, huh?"
I had to agree but I didn't say anything. I just smiled a little and kept going. The feelings in my cock that spread up my belly were becoming so intense I imagined I was levitating off the bed. I managed to keep my grip on his cock, but only just. I looked over at him again and his eyes were closed and his mouth was, as seemed to be usual, open. His tongue was at the corner of his mouth.
He seemed to realize I was close and his hand sped up on me, stroking the whole length of me. Every few strokes he would run his index finger over the head of my cock, collecting the stream of precum and adding to the slippery feeling. I could feel a rush of energy on my skin and I knew that my dam was going to burst. I choked and gasped.
"You close? Don't hold back."
As if I had a choice. My body had taken over and I shut my eyes tightly as my cock exploded. I could feel cum hit my stomach as he continued to slide his hand on me. I felt like my whole body was emptying itself on my chest. When the explosion finally faded I opened my eyes. Greg was still holding my cock, gently caressing the head. There was a thick stream of cum all over his fingers. Looking at me, he removed his hand and brought it to his mouth where he slurped my cum from his fingers.
I was so stunned by my orgasm, no part of my brain was working well enough to interpret that. I realized I was still holding his thickness in my hand and I suddenly felt guilty, so I resumed sliding my fist up and down. The glow from coming made me light-headed, but I tried to concentrate on him. I looked into his face. "Are you close?"
"Oh yeah," and he threw his head back. "Really close."
I sped up a little and leaned toward him for better traction and as I did he grabbed my arm and gasped just as cum spurted out onto his stomach in few sloppy bursts, then poured out all over my moving hand, drooling down onto him stomach. After a moment things seem to subside and his grip on my arm relaxed. He leaned back against the pillow and sighed.
"That was awesome! Thanks so much."
I looked down at my hand on his cock, feeling self-conscious. My fingers were coated in cum and as I pulled back I wondered where to wipe it off. To my amazement, he grabbed my hand and brought it to his mouth, cleaning if off the same way he had done to his. "I hope you don't mind...I like the taste. What can I say?" And he chuckled, smacking his lips.
We lay there for a few minutes, not talking. Part of my mind had started to work and was beginning to ask questions. But the state of calm I found myself in after coming so hard made it difficult for me take the chorus of voices very seriously. I felt really good. That was the most obvious aspect of that moment. Not just because my body was relaxed, but because of the warmth of his beside me. I felt safe. That was not a concept I would have associated with mutually jerking off with someone. But there you go.
I got up to use the bathroom and when I came back, he was under the covers with his back to me. I heard his voice say, "I gotta sleep."
"Me, too. Good night."
"Night, Stu."
I lay on my back, not quite ready to sleep. I realized I felt too good. I wanted to savour it, so I lay listening to his breathing and the sound of cars on the street below.
When I awoke, light was pouring into the room and onto the bed. It was warm and I could tell the morning in this vast city had started because the sound of traffic was intense. I also realized that Greg was lying on his stomach and one of his arms was lying on my chest.
For a moment I panicked. Then, as I realized the earth wasn't opening up to swallow me, it felt kind of...nice. Like most things that Greg did, this moment was uncomplicated. Even if he was asleep, it was very Greg.
But I had to pee, so I slid out from under his arm and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. I heard his voice behind me.
"So what's the plan for today?"
"Well...we could check out the London Eye...maybe take a boat tour on the river?" I realized I wasn't sure.
"The London Eye?"
"Oh, it's just a big Ferris wheel. I don't know why they call it that."
"Sounds good. Let's eat first. I'm starved."
We found breakfast and put our tourist hats back on.
Throughout the day as we visited old houses, big churches, sat in Hyde Park and watched the pigeons, but part of my mind was busy trying to process what the previous evening had been like. And I don't mean the drinking. We had jerked each other off. But as I sat there, admiring the trees, a memory appeared -- like the other ones -- seemingly from nowhere. As if my mind had squirrelled it away somewhere waiting for the right opportunity.
Again, it was simple. My brother and I shared a bedroom at one point in our teens because we had to leave a bigger apartment when my dad lost his job. I remember waking up one night to a now-familiar sound: my brother jerking off. I remember looking over at his bed and watching him stroke his cock and pour cum all over his thin, adolescent stomach. That was all.
Why hadn't I remembered that before? The part of that memory, however, that counted, was the fact that I do remember my own cock rigid as I lay there watching him. That was the part that I almost didn't want to be part of the memory. But there it was.
Later in the afternoon, as we strolled down a busy street in Piccadilly I suddenly remembered. "Hey, we need to stock up on lube." I suddenly felt foolish, like an eager adolescent on his first day in the big city.
But Greg nodded. "You're right, we do." We began to look for a drug store or something, and finally found a Boots that seemed to have a good selection. I stood in front of the shelf until I saw the one I usually bought for myself. When Greg saw what I selected, he said, "Naw. We can do better than that. Let's try this one. It's more expensive, but I bet it feels really nice. That other stuff is only for emergencies." So we spent a small fortune on lube, but I realized I was excited.
We had a nicer dinner, splurging a bit and even had some wine, which I never drink. I'm not a big drinker and nor is my brother. We had watched our father drink himself into a stupor or a blind rage too many times to ever want to do that. I can get drunk, as I did the previous night, but I never let it get too far.
Greg seemed...jovial. Is that the word? He was joking and talking excitedly about what we had seen and how much money we had spent. I warned him. London is not for people without money. We finished our wine and had some dessert then wandered into the streets to stroll around.
Eventually we made it back to the hotel. We had to leave the following afternoon so we planned what we would do in the time we had left.
I had a shower and when I emerged from the bathroom, Greg was already in bed. I suddenly felt self-conscious as I had nothing on but a towel, but I realized that given what we had done the night before, it didn't really matter what I was wearing or not, in this case. So I threw the towel on the floor and climbed into bed.
I was settling my head into the pillow, wondering what might happen, when Greg sat up, a little grin on his face. "So...you want to jerk off?"
The pure honesty of how he expressed what he wanted kind of amazed me. As always, a rush of discomfort ran up my spine and I struggled to say something, just looking at him.
His smile grew a little wider. "Why don't we try something different?" He sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed, his legs spread. This position seemed to draw my eye directly to his cock which was hard, and his balls rested on the bed between his legs. He pointed to the bed in front of him. "Sit facing me."
I was still stuck in the same position, but I realized I couldn't just sit there much longer. I slid out from the sheet and sat facing him but I had to slide my legs under his to make it work. Part of me was aware that I liked the feel of his legs on mine. I looked up into his eyes which were glinting. He had already poured lube on himself, and he handed me the bootle. I was beginning to get used to this and I squeezed the liquid onto my cock which was, as usual, rigid in my hand.
I put the lube aside and realized I wasn't sure what to do next. He was stroking his cock very slowly, and he was gazing at his prick as if he hadn't seen it before. I did the same and we stayed like this for a few minutes, the only sound was the sticky sound of our flesh.
Then he looked up at me. "Slide in closer." I wasn't sure what he meant and I hesitated. He raised his eyebrows, then said "Like this." And he slid forward so his body was closer and his thighs were on top of mine. I followed suit and I pulled myself closer to him so that our balls were almost in contact. I could feel the heat coming off him, the musky smell of his body filling my head.
His legs were slightly raised to get over mine and it caused him to be sitting at an awkward angle. All of a sudden he pulled his legs back and got on his knees. "Here, get on your knees like this."
By this point, I was feeling waves of electricity that started in the head of my streaming cock that spread though my balls to my belly and beyond and my brain had stopped working very well so I just complied. Deep in some corner of my mind a little voice was trying to ask what the fuck I was doing, but it was a quiet voice.
We were kneeling face to face, quite close together. I could feel his breath. He reached down between us and before I could protest, he gripped my cock and pulled it toward his so they were resting together. I could feel the hair at the base of his cock tickling mine. He gripped both of us firmly, then started to slide his hand up and down a few times, still holding us both.
The sensation of his hand on my cock was one thing -- amazing -- but it was also the white hot intensity of the head of his dick, and the cleft underneath sliding against mine that shut my eyes and opened my mouth. "Fuck...." I gasped.
"Nice, huh?"
I couldn't answer. He kept stroking us both together and as he did this, he was very slowly thrusting forward so that there was double movement of the length of his cock sliding up and down against mine while his hand massaged the outside of both of ours. The feeling was almost overwhelming and I choked finally, "Slow down...it's...intense..."
He almost stopped and I opened my eyes and he was staring at me. His eyes were very blue (are they?). "You ok?"
"Oh...I'm ok. I just need to rest for a minute..."
I realized I had stopped questioning what this was we were doing, or what it meant. I just knew that wanted him to continue stroking us. I also realized I had put my hand on his shoulder to maintain my balance. I wondered what he thought of the contact. But then again, he had his hand on my cock.
He had slowly begun to push his hips forward, sliding his dick against mine. He kept his hand still. I looked down and watched the movement of his rigid cock against mine. We were both streaming precum that mixed together as our cocks slid against each other. As I stared down at us, I felt his head come into contact with mine. We were leaning against each other watching our cocks moving.
I felt his arm wrap around my wait and pull me a little closer. Our balls were almost in contact and I raised my head as I felt our chests almost touch, our foreheads resting together. His hand started to move on our cocks and a little faster, and before I could stop myself, I starting pushing forward with my hips into his hand. I heard his voice, "Yeah. That's it." He pushed back so that as my cock slid up, his slid down. He was still stroking us both very slowly.
I opened my eyes and I looked directly into his for a moment. Some little animal from who knows where within me brought my lips to his very tentatively. He opened his mouth at the same time and we had the softest, slowest contact. I could feel his breath in my mouth. I pulled back, as if waiting to see what he would do. He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes still. I realized our movements had stopped. He smiled at me, the leaned in and kissed me again, just as softly. I felt his hand start to slide on our cocks again.
The contact of his mouth against mine seemed to set off an explosion in me and I had to throw my head back as a wave of the most intense pleasure I had ever felt washed over my entire body and I could feel a geyser go off in my cock. Cum spurted up, then splashed down on us as Greg kept up the movement. Wave after wave of cum rose up between us and hit my chest, his chest, and dripped down onto our cocks. He was now using my cum to keep stroking us and then, with a low moan, his cock did the same, although more a heavy rush that poured out onto my cock, a great liquid mess that streamed down his hand and onto our balls, the bed, seemingly everywhere.
I had to lean back as my thighs were on fire and he did the same. We stayed like this for a moment, then I looked down at the sticky mess all over my cock, my thighs, dripping of my chest. I heard his voice with a little shock. "We're a mess! Let's get a shower." And he slid off the bed and walked into the bathroom. I heard the shower start, then he stuck his head out and said, "You coming?"
I guess I was, so I got up and joined him. We stood under the water as it rinsed off the cum. I watched it collect on the bottom of the tub and into the drain. I raised my head, feeling awkward and cold.
"You all right?"
Was I all right? I wasn't sure. I felt embarrassed and wondered what he thought of me, even though I knew what had happened was shared. But still. "I feel a bit strange. I've never..." I couldn't find the words.
"I know." And he reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. "It's cool. Maybe that was too much. But I really enjoyed it. Just so you know. It's all good over here."
I was grateful for his words. They did help and I liked the feel of his arm on me, reminding me that I wasn't alone. But I could say something. "I'm cold."
He laughed, but reached behind him and shut off the shower. He grabbed a towel and instead of handing it to me, he wrapped it around my shoulders. I stepped out of the shower, shivering. I felt like I had done something hard, like how I felt when I did my driving test as a teenager. I ran the towel over my body in the hope that I would warm up, but it didn't help that much. I dropped it on the floor of the bathroom and sprinted over to the bed and, like a little kid, buried myself into the sheet and pulled the bedspread over me. The only thing that was visible, I guess, was my head.
Greg came out of the bathroom and when he saw me, he smiled. "You were cold, weren't you."
I just looked at him. He got into the other side and lay for a moment, looking at the ceiling. I heard his voice again, "You all right?"
I did know this time. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just cold. But...thanks."
"For what?" He propped his head up on his arm.
"For...fuck. I'm not sure. For what we did? For being a nice guy? I don't know..."
His answer was to pull me toward him so that my back was to him, and he wrapped an arm around my chest, his face against the back of my neck, his whole body in contact with mine. I felt his cock nestled at the top of my ass.
"Is this ok?"
"Yeah. It's nice." And it was ok. That was the part that amazed me. It was ok to be wrapped in someone's arms and feel relaxed and warm. It was ok to just let that happen. I could feel whatever tension about the physical contact melt away.
When I woke up, we had changed positions. I was lying against his body and my arm was wrapped around his torso. But the only thing I was aware of was my rock hard cock nestled in the crack of his ass and that I woke up slowly rocking my hips forward, pressing my hardness between his flesh.
I stopped when I realized it and froze. What was I doing? I lay there, not sure what to do, and my cock didn't get soft.
I knew we had to get up, but a big part of me wanted to stay in bed and, despite whatever I was doing in my sleep, I didn't want this to end. I heard his voice.
"That feels nice."
"Does it?"
"Of course it does. You were asleep I guess? But part of you was into it."
I realized he was right. "Is that...weird?" It was a stupid question. It wasn't like I didn't know how sex worked. I knew that gay guys fucked each other and that made sense. In the same way I knew how it worked with straight couples. I wasn't innocent, but I had never been the one fucking, or fucked. When it came to me being in the picture, it was like I was fifteen again. And I suppose that was true. When I was that age, other guys were all about trying things out with people. "Experimenting" they say in child development speak.
But not me. Not then. For my brother and I it was all about survival and safety. There was no space to experiment. I felt a wave of sadness for the kid I was.
I heard Greg's voice. "No. Not weird. Like I said. It was nice. Let's get up. We've got things to do before we catch the train." He seemed to bounce out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
I was grateful for his ability to know when I was at the limit, when I could easily slip over the edge into some kind of shut down. He always seemed to get it.
We had a nice morning, and then caught the train back to Southampton. All the way south, as I sat on the train watching farms go by, all I could think about was how it felt when my rigid cock was nestled in the crack of his ass. Part of me still worried I had made things awkward between us and that he was just being nice when he said he liked it, but I knew it was what I wanted, even asleep. It felt like a question for which I was beginning to have the answer.