Author’s Foreword.
For all the fans and readers who have asked for part two, here it is…..finally!
Thank you all for following Kenny’s saga, and your interest in my stories.
And this IS a STORY, containing characters with emotions and feelings. If you only want to read the sex, there isn’t any until Page , – so you might as well skip forward………
To those dear readers who have not already acquainted themselves with “Kenny”, the first part of this story, I recommend that you read that first. It will make more sense when you read this, and explain why the first section of this story begins the way it does…….
And for those of you who have already met “Kenny”, here’s what happened next, and how it came to pass…….
KENNY
(PART TWO)
I glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes before midnight, and my legs ached. I hadn’t sat down for the entire evening since the doorbell had rung, and that seemed a long, long time ago. It WAS a long time ago, and I hadn’t spoken a single word in that time, either. I shifted my position again, leaning on the bookcase, and tried to ease the stiffness in my legs.
Kenny and his mother sat on the sofa. Kenny had his arm round her and had finally, after all this time, managed to reduce his mother’s tears to just huge sobs. The box of tissues, newly opened some hours ago, was now nearly empty;- a mute testimony to the floods of tears that had necessitated their use by Mrs Noble.
“Mum, please,” Kenny said for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Don’t cry now, please.”
* * * *
She had pushed straight past me in the hallway after those two resounding blows to my face even as Kenny himself had appeared from the living room, his eyes open wide and his cry of “Mum!” echoing as he flung himself forward and into her arms. They had hugged each other very tightly for a while, Mrs Noble making crooning noises like, ‘it’s alright son, I’m here now,’ and ‘I’m so glad I’ve found you.’
And then she had grasped his arm and stared into his face and said, “Go and get your things, Kenny, whatever you have, and let’s get out of here.”
And that’s when the fan had really received a huge dollop of the brown mess.
“Wait, Mum. You don’t understand!”
“Oh, I understand perfectly!” She’d turned to look at me and spat the words in my direction before looking at him again. She gave his arm a little shake. “Believe me, Kenny, I understand! Now come on. Get anything you want to bring and let’s go.”
“No, Mum!” and he pulled his arm free and took a step back from her. Confusion, hurt, resolve and anger had all flashed across her face in an instant as she took a pace towards him.
“What do you mean… no? I’m here! I’ve finally found you and you’re safe and we can go home.”
“Mum, wait! Wait!” Kenny had pleaded, holding his hands up in front of him as if to ward her off. “Mum, you must let me explain!”
“There’s no need to explain, my darling,” she said, turning to give me another hate-filled look. “You don’t have to explain anything. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”
“But I do! I do!” Kenny wailed. “That’s the point! I do want to explain! I need to explain! Won’t you listen?”
He’d backed away until he was at the end of the hall, just outside the living room door. “Mum, please! Let me explain?” he said again in a quieter voice. “Won’t you come in and sit down for a few minutes? Please?”
Once more she had turned and looked at me and if looks could have killed………and then she took a step towards Kenny and said, “I won’t sit down Kenny because I don’t want to sit in this…this…hovel! But if you want to say something before we go, alright, I’m listening.”
I’d seen the flash of anger in Kenny’s eyes, but it was just a flash, and his voice was very quiet indeed when he said, “It isn’t a hovel. You’re talking about my home.” And he turned and went into the living room.
Mrs Noble hesitated, looking down the empty hall, turned yet again to glare at me, and then slowly followed Kenny into the living room.
I followed too, having decided that I would not say a word. It was not for me to intervene in this, even though the outcome would affect my life…. whatever the outcome turned out to be. I followed them, standing just inside the door. Kenny was sitting on the sofa, twisting his fingers together. His mother stopped and faced him, crossing her arms and looking down at him.
“I’m listening,” she repeated.
“Mum,” Kenny said quietly, “I am so glad to see you. You don’t know how I’ve missed you and thought about you. I wanted to contact you so many times…but I couldn’t. I don’t know how you found me. I wasn’t hiding from you. But now you’re here and—–“
“And now I’ve found you we can go,” she interrupted him, reaching out one hand to take his arm again.
“NO MUM!” Kenny yelled, and stood quickly, brushing her arm aside.
I heard her gasp with shock as she stood looking at him. His face was suffused with anger, and he was glaring at her much as she had first glared at me. I had never seen this side of Kenny before.
“No, Mum! I am not leaving with you now! Now, you can either listen to what I have to say, or you can leave, alone, and I will write a letter to you and explain, because you won’t LISTEN!” And Kenny stood there, breathing hard, his expression one of anger and frustration.
Mrs Noble had simply staggered and raised her hands to her face as she burst into tears. Kenny immediately put his arm round her and led her to the sofa where he sat her down and then sat beside her, his arm going round her and rubbing her shoulder as he tried to comfort her.
“Sorry, Mum,” he said, “But I had to make you understand.”
“Understand what?” she cried out, lowering her hands and turning to look at him as the tears coursed down her cheeks. “I’ve spent a week hunting for you here and now I’ve finally found you, you don’t want to come with me? What am I to understand? You don’t care about me and you want to stay with this — this —- this—-” and she waved an arm in my direction without looking at me and then covered her face again, crying afresh.
I moved out of the room and into the kitchen as I heard Kenny say firmly, “Friend, Mum. That’s what he is. A very, very good friend and he’s been very nice to me.”
I heard her ‘hmmmph!’ of disapproval and disgust as I returned with a large brandy which I set down on the table in front of her. I signalled Kenny with my eyes and he gave me a little nod.
“Oh, I bet he’s been nice to you!” Mrs Noble said in a scathing voice, partly muffled by her hands. “But what has he wanted in return? Eh, Kenny? What has it cost you in return, my son?”
“Nothing,” said Kenny quietly. He left the word hanging in the air. Mrs Noble continued to cry.
I fetched the new box of tissues which I placed next to the brandy and then went to lean on the bookcase.
Kenny pulled a couple from the box and pushed them into his mother’s hands. She bunched them up and stuffed them against her eyes as her shoulders heaved and she cried and cried.
“Mum, being here has cost me nothing I wasn’t happy about.” He rubbed her shoulder and gave it a squeeze then looked at me. I gave him a look with my eyes and a slight twist to my lips, telling him, ‘you’re doing okay, kid’, but I remained completely silent. I knew instinctively that if I uttered a word, she would flare up and turn on me again, and that would undo the good that Kenny had managed to achieve…at least getting her to sit down and listen to him.
“Mum? Mum?” Kenny said quietly. He pulled the sodden tissues from her hand and gave her some new ones. She shook her head, whether because she didn’t want to hear him, or whether because she was utterly confused and shocked I didn’t know.
“Mum, listen please,” Kenny whispered. He took the brandy and put it near her lips. “Here, have a sip of this.”
He had to physically take her fingers away from her eyes and wrap them round the glass, covering them with his own as he raised the glass to her lips. She took a sip and coughed. Kenny waited and then gave her another sip, setting the glass down again.
“Mum, I’ve got lots of things to tell you. And I bet you’ve got lots to tell me. Can’t we talk now?”
Mrs Noble’s shoulders continued to heave as she blurted from between her hands.
“I can t-t-tell you that I know what’s happened to you since you ran away. I can tell you that I left your f – father after I got your letter and confronted him with it. I’m living with my sister now. And I can tell you that it breaks my heart to think what has h – h – happened to you and what you’ve —you’ve —been doing.” And she burst into an even more anguished bout of crying, rocking herself back and forth as she pressed the tissues to her eyes.
I moved to lean on the other arm. I felt very, very sorry for Mrs Noble and I could understand her hate for me and her confusion and hurt that Kenny hadn’t immediately leapt for the front door with her when she came for him.
But Kenny had never been a prisoner in the flat, and he was free to choose with whom he stayed, or with whom he went. I didn’t envy him the task of making his mother understand that.
“How did you find me, Mum?” Kenny asked. I wasn’t sure if the question was to deflect her thoughts from their current train, or if it was because the question was burning at him the way it was burning at me. Although Kenny had let my name slip at when we went to collect his meagre belongings, he hadn’t mentioned an address, and I didn’t think he would have carelessly given it out to any of his old ‘clique’ of rent boys. But I was mighty curious to know how it was that Mrs Noble had managed to appear at my front door.
She gave a short, harsh laugh, and I knew where Kenny had inherited his from. She dabbed at her eyes with the tissues and one hand wandered vaguely in mid air. Kenny gave her the brandy glass again and she took a swallow, coughing a little as the fiery liquid hit her throat. Kenny put clean tissues in her other hand.
“By the skin of my teeth,” she answered him with another short, dry laugh. She took a second drink of the brandy, and this one went down smoothly. Kenny took the glass from her unresisting fingers and put it back on the table.
“How?” he asked her softly.
She patted a pocket of her jacket – another mannerism that her son had inherited from her.
“I carry your photograph with me. All the time. I happened to ask at the station one day if they’d seen you and they remembered you buying a ticket here.” She paused to sniff and wipe at her eyes with the tissues. “So I arranged a holiday from work and caught a train here too. I went to a hotel, and for the last week I’ve been asking people in the street if they’d seen you. I’ve been out all day and not going back to the hotel until late at night.”
She shook her head and fresh tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
“Not one person said they recognised you, or had seen you. I used to go to the hotel every night and cry myself to sleep. I would lie awake, wondering if you were near, if you were safe. Sometimes—–“
and at this point she erupted into a new bout of heartfelt crying, “—sometimes I w- w- wondered if you were even still alive!”
Kenny renewed his efforts to calm her down and once again replenished the tissues.
“I’m alive, Mum. I’m here with you now. I’m safe. Don’t cry now, don’t cry.” And he put his other arm round the front of her, pulled her to him and rocked her gently. After a while she sniffed again a few times and continued in a broken voice.
“Today was the last day. I left the hotel and went to the station to get the train home. I thought about throwing myself under it. But I still asked people if they’d seen you. And there was a boy. No, a man, I suppose. Dirty, horrible, sniggering creature. He said yes, he knew you. So I asked him….where were you, what were you doing, how could I find you?”
And there were more tears, and new tissues, and another sip of brandy before she could go on.
“He – he – told m-me what you were. He told me w-w-what you’d been doing. He said if I g-gave him some money he would take me to you. I was frightened of him, but I wouldn’t give up the chance to find you. I wanted to know h-h-how I could be sure he knew where you were, and n-n-not just lying, and he said he’d seen you and —and —“
And for the first time she raised her eyes to look at me, but then looked hurriedly away and buried her face in her hands again.
“He’d seen you walking one evening and followed you home. So he b-brought me here. He wouldn’t stop t- talking about – about the things you – the things his sort of boy d- does. Graphic details. It was just horrible. I t- tried to make him stop but he said if I wanted him to show me where you are, I c- c- could listen to what he had to say.”
Her anguish got the better of her and she had to stop. Kenny wiped her tears away again and crooned “Don’t cry Mum, don’t cry.”
After a while she managed to carry on.
“When we got here I g- gave him the money and he went. I just d-d-didn’t know which flat it was.”
Which explained the rings at Freddie’s doorbell upstairs. I looked Kenny and mouthed the word ‘who?’ at him.
“What did he look like, this man?” Kenny asked in a soothing voice.
“Dirty, scruffy, revolting,” she said and shuddered. “He had bad teeth and one was broken.”
Jed.
I went to the kitchen again silently and made coffee. I could hear Kenny’s voice, and his mother’s, but now they were telling each other how they’d missed each other and Kenny was soothing her that it was okay, and she didn’t have to worry, and it was lovely to be with her and many other soothing words and phrases, and I thought to myself, not for the first time, that for eighteen years old Kenny could often show a surprisingly adult character. I made the coffee in a pot and used the best china and placed it all on a silver tray, usually reserved for high days and holidays, but I thought if there was a faint chance of making Mrs Noble realise that this wasn’t really a hovel, serving the coffee that way might help. I placed it quietly on the table and selected a cigarette for myself, then returned to the bookcase.
“What about your things?” Kenny was asking her. “Where’s your case, or your bag?”
“I left it just outside the front door,” Mrs Noble sniffed.
I went to check, and it was there, — luckily for Jed, I thought grimly — tucked against the wall on one side of the door. I brought it inside and left it in the hallway and padded back to my bookcase.
Kenny signalled me with his eyes to come and sit down, but I gave a slight shake of my head and a big frown. He nodded.
“Mum, can I tell you about me, now?” Kenny murmured, taking yet more tissues and wiping her cheeks tenderly.
Mrs Noble finally removed her hands from her eyes and sat, twisting the tissues in her fingers. Her eyes focused for the first time on her surroundings as she looked down at the table and saw the brandy and the coffee things. She picked up the glass and gulped down the last swallow.
“Thank you, Kenny,” she muttered pointedly.
I saw his shoulders slump a little, but his voice was steady as he picked up the coffee pot and said, “Have some coffee, Mum. I’m going to have some.” His eyes raised to me questioningly and I nodded, so he poured three cups, added cream and sugar and handed one cup to his mother. I stepped forward and took mine from the tray then returned to the bookcase.
And for the next half hour Kenny explained what had happened since he had boarded that train, admitting he’d become a rent boy but glossing over the details quickly. He explained how he’d met me, and what I had done, the meal, the whole story right up until she’d rung the doorbell.
There were pauses as his mother lapsed into fresh bouts of anguish and crying at some points of his tale, but finally he finished and sat back, pouring himself a fresh coffee and lighting a cigarette.
Mrs Noble made no comment on this so I assumed Kenny had smoked at home. Or perhaps she just hadn’t registered the fact that he’d lit up. She sat with her empty cup and saucer in her lap, looking at Kenny.
“He- he- bought you a meal before – before—“
“Yes,” said Kenny firmly. “And asked nothing in return.”
Which was true up to a point.
“And when you came back h-h-here,” she questioned him disbelievingly, “n-n-nothing happened? He didn’t t-touch you?”
“Refused completely,” Kenny said firmly. “And I slept in my room, alone.”
Which was also quite true. The fact that he had only ever slept in his room that once, he sensibly didn’t mention.
She reached up and caressed his cheek as he gave her more coffee.
“My son,” she sobbed. “My only child. What’s happened to you?”
And with that remarkable adult insight that Kenny possessed he said quietly, “I’m not a child any more, Mum. And now I’ve found a life I’m happy with.”
“Happy?” she sobbed blankly. “How can you be happy, here? How could you—-” she gulped and forced herself to speak more firmly, “—d- do those things like that man said? You’re so young. You should be out, enjoying your life, going places, having a girlfriend……..and what about Ginny? You were happy with her.”
Kenny gave a slight shake of his head.
“No, Mum. I wasn’t really happy with Ginny, that’s the point.” He lowered his eyes from her face and stared at the floor for a moment. “You can blame my fa—- you can blame him for that. I am what he made me. I’ve accepted that. And now, here, in this new home I have, I’m happy with it.”
Mrs Noble stared at him. “But- but— you have to do things…” She shuddered and the cup rattled on the saucer. She looked down as if seeing it for the first time, slowly lifted the cup and took a sip.
Kenny’s hand went to her other wrist and held it gently. His voice was low and earnest.
“Mum, you must try to understand. I don’t HAVE to do anything. Anything I do, I do because I want to. It’s MY choice. It’s all MY choice. To live here, is MY choice. I can leave anytime I wish. Or I can stay. It’s MY choice. I have a nice home here now. I have my own room, my own things——“
“Things?” she murmured blankly.
Kenny regarded her for a moment. “Come and see,” he said quietly, and he stood and held out his hand to her. Her hand shook as she replaced the cup and saucer on the table, and allowed herself to be pulled gently to her feet.
Kenny led her slowly to the door of his room, and I silently moved to the door of the living room to watch. Kenny opened his door and led her just inside.
“See, Mum? This is my room. These are my things.” He opened a drawer and showed her piles of neatly folded clothes. Another drawer containing T-shirts, all clean and neatly put away. A third drawer and he showed her the shirts and the matching ties.
But I noticed he kept his hip pressed against the drawer which I knew held his special, erotic clothes. He opened the wardrobe door and gestured to the trousers and jeans hanging inside, and the grey suit.
Mrs Noble gazed wonderingly at the clothes and then her gaze moved to the rest of the room, seeing the small items resting on the table, the bottle of after shave, Kenny’s CD player and discs, the laptop computer I’d bought for him, then his watch. She moved and picked up the watch, looking at it sadly, then replaced it. Her gaze went to the bed.
“You sleep here?” she whispered, and turned to look at him.
His eyes didn’t stray from her face as he answered her.
“Sometimes, Mum.”
But that silent admission of Kenny’s was too much for her, and her shoulders began to shake again as she covered her face once more and sank onto the bed.
“No, no, don’t cry any more, Mum,” Kenny murmured, and he put an arm round her shoulder and half lifted her from the bed.
“Come and sit down.” He led her back to the sofa and I resumed my silent place by the bookcase.
“Drink your coffee,” he said, and placed the cup in her shaking hand. She drank it all in one go, and Kenny refilled it, his free hand holding one of hers. He pushed the cup and saucer nearer to her on the table. She took some fresh tissues and wiped her eyes.
“Oh, Kenny!” she whispered. “I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know what to do!” She paused and her gaze roved round the room, passing over me, and most other things, unseeingly. But then she noticed the clock and her eyes rested on it.
“Look at the time!” she whispered. “Now the last train has gone, and I don’t have a hotel room any more. Samantha will be worried.” Her fingers twisted the tissues again as she stared at the clock and her voice was the faintest of whispers as she spoke.
“Oh, I’m so tired. It’s been such a shock.” She started to shiver, and I knew the adrenalin was fading from her system, and a different type of shock was setting in.
“Why don’t you stay here, Mum,” Kenny murmured. “Stay here and sleep in my room. I’ll be here in the morning for you. You can have a nice rest,” he finished soothingly.
Her gaze turned to wander over his face.
“Stay here?” she murmured. “Sleep here? In your……” She tailed off and new tears ran down her cheeks. “But that means you’ll be sleeping in— next door — in that room ——“
Kenny took both her wrists and held them gently and moved his face closer to hers.
“Mum,” he said softly, “if you had caught your train and gone home, I would be sleeping in ‘that’ room. If you left now and could go home, I would sleep in ‘that’ room. If you go to another hotel for tonight, I would sleep in ‘that’ room.” He paused, and then added in the same soft voice tinged with a firmness, “Because I choose to!”
And he waited. Mrs Noble stared at her son, her shoulders heaving as she still sobbed, trying to take in his words.
And so Kenny had said, for what seemed like the hundredth time, “Don’t cry now, Mum, please.”
* * * * *
Mrs Noble gave a small nod. “I’m so very tired,” she said. “I- I- don’t know if I can sleep, but I would like to lie down. May I— Kenny, may I use the bathroom?”
Kenny took her to the bathroom and she closed the door behind her gently.
I went to Kenny and put my hands on his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. He looked tired himself.
“I would move your things out of that drawer,” I whispered. “If your Mum happened to see them…” and Kenny nodded, ran into his room and gathered up the contents of his special drawer. Quickly he dumped them in my room and shut the door as he came out. He looked at me beseechingly.
“You don’t mind, do you, Desi? Please say you don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t!” I whispered back. “It’s the best thing. You look after her while I clear up a bit. Talk to her in your room for a while until she falls asleep. If she can.”
Kenny nodded. I went to the hall and picked up his mother’s case and took it into his room.
Mrs Noble came out of the bathroom. She had evidently rinsed her face and appeared to be feeling a little better, but her eyes were puffy and her face was drawn and pale. She sat down again and drank the coffee Kenny had poured for her.
“Mum, call Aunt Sammie if you want.” He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and offered it to her.
“You have…it’s your phone?” she asked wonderingly.
“Yes, Mum. It’s my phone.” He slid it open gently thrust it into her fingers, and with the occasional sniff and a final wipe at her eyes, Mrs Noble dialled a number.
“Samantha? It’s me. Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry to call you so late, but I missed the train……..yes, I’ve found Kenny.”
I could hear the loud exclamation from the other end.
She went on, her voice quavery. “There’s such a lot to explain…I can’t tell you now…yes, he’s fine. He’s —-fine,” she repeated, looking at him, and I wondered if she had intended to say something else, and then changed her mind. “Look, I’ll explain everything when I see you. I’ll let you know when I’ll be at the station. Yes…yes.. it’s okay. Really it is. I know I sound a little upset…but it’s okay. I’ll see you soon. Yes… Bye.” She handed the phone back to Kenny and he slid it shut and put it on the coffee table.
“Come on, Mum,” Kenny murmured. “Come and rest.” And he led her into his room and closed the door behind them.
I busied myself clearing away the coffee table and went into the kitchen. It was time for them to be together, alone. I finished washing up and leant against the sink, inhaling deeply on a much needed cigarette. I waited until it was finished, checked the living room once more and then went into my room, undressed and got into bed. I smoked another cigarette, waiting to see if Kenny would come in, but he didn’t and I could hear the occasional soft murmur of voices from his room. I decided that work would have to do without me the next day, at least in the morning. If Kenny decided to leave and go with his mother, I at least wanted to be here to say goodbye, whether Mrs Noble liked it or not. And if that was the case, I admitted to myself ruefully, I wouldn’t feel much like going in to work at all.
Eventually I dozed off.
Some time later I felt Kenny sliding into bed beside me. He lay on his back without touching me, and I turned to see the ghostly outline of his face in the darkness.
“Are you okay?” I whispered. I sensed his nod.
“Yes,” he whispered back. “I’m okay.”
“And your mum,” I asked.
He shrugged. “I think she’s okay now,” he said. “At least, better.”
We were speaking in the quietest of whispers and I could hear faint sobs still coming from next door.
“I can’t do any more,” Kenny said, his voice full of apology.
“No-one expects you to,” I reassured him. “Try and get some sleep. I won’t go to work in the morning.”
He turned suddenly and assumed his favourite position with his head on my chest and one arm round me.
“I don’t know what to do!” he whispered in an anguished voice, unconsciously echoing his mother’s words. “If I go with her tomorrow, you’re going to be so upset! And if I stay with you, she’s going to be so upset! Oh, Desi, I just don’t know what to do!”
“You must do,” I answered him, “what you want to do. Not what anyone else wants you to do. Life isn’t always fair. Sometimes it’s a right bitch. Sometimes you can’t help upsetting one person to save another’s feelings. So now, sleep. And tomorrow, you do exactly what you, yourself, want to do.”
I felt Kenny’s head move as he nodded silently against my chest. And then he turned on one side with his back to me.
* * * * *
I woke very early next morning, long before the alarm went off. Kenny was still sleeping peacefully and I carefully eased myself out of bed so as not to wake him. Switching off the alarm so he wasn’t disturbed by that either, I took my clothes, carefully checking that Mrs Noble wasn’t around, and went to the bathroom to get dressed. I didn’t shave or shower because I didn’t want to wake either of them. In the kitchen I quietly made myself a strong cup of tea and sat smoking thoughtfully. I considered whether I wanted anything to eat, and decided I didn’t feel like it just yet.
It was quite some time later when Kenny wandered in, also dressed respectably, yawning widely.
He looked very tired and he came to me and gave me a hug and a kiss, and those gestures meant a great deal to me that morning.
“Morning,” I murmured. “How are you feeling?”
Kenny shrugged. “Not too bad. I didn’t sleep that well.”
“Do you want some breakfast?”
Kenny pulled a face. “Not really. I’m not very hungry.”
“Me neither,” I said.
Kenny made himself a coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. He glanced round towards his room.
“Is—?”
“No, not yet,” I forestalled him.
We sat in silence for a while, Kenny occasionally glancing round to listen for sounds of his mother appearing.
“You’re not going to work?” he asked.
“No. Well, not yet,” I answered. “I called.” And I gestured to Kenny’s phone, now lying on the kitchen table.
Kenny nodded and began to toy with it, swivelling it round and round with his fingers. I wanted to ask him the question so much, but I’d decided not to. It was right that he should tell me, in his own way, and when, what he had chosen to do. If he’d reached a decision at all. He made himself another coffee and me a second mug of tea, and then lit us both cigarettes.
“What time was it when you came to bed?” I asked him. “I didn’t look at the clock.”
“After two,” he said.
So they’d talked for a considerable time after I’d gone to bed. Kenny seemed very introspective, staring at his phone as he toyed with it, occasionally raising his eyes to glance at me.
“It was a difficult evening, wasn’t it?” he said eventually.
“Yes,” I acknowledged. “But I think most difficult for your mother.”
Kenny just nodded slightly. “Poor Mum,” he said. “I wish I could make her happy again.”
A cold feeling formed itself into a ball in the pit of my stomach. There was only one way Kenny could make his mother happy:- he knew it and I knew it. I said nothing, but perhaps some of my feeling showed on my face because he suddenly reached across the table and put his hand on my cheek in that familiar, warm gesture that he used so much.
“Poor Desi,” he said. “It must have been horrible to hear what she was saying and know what she was thinking about you.”
“Not very pleasant,” I murmured in agreement. Kenny stroked my cheek and then withdrew his hand.
And at that moment we both heard his bedroom door open, and Mrs Noble appeared at the kitchen doorway. Kenny got up quickly and went to hug her.
“Morning, Mum,” he greeted her. “Come and sit down.” He led her to a chair and she sat, looking round at the kitchen. She had changed her clothes, but she was pale, drawn and there were lines on her face. Her eyes were still puffy, but at least there were no signs of tears this morning.
She watched as Kenny made her some tea and gave it to her. She cradled her hands round the mug and looked down into it.
“Do you want something to eat?” Kenny asked, but she shook her head. Silently she drank some tea, then put the mug on the table. She looked at her son, then reached for his hand, lying on the table, and I could see she was squeezing it tightly.
“How are you feeling,” Kenny asked in a whisper.
Mrs Noble paused before answering, looking at him with her eyes roving over his face.
“Better,” she said. “Thank you. I didn’t sleep very much, I had many things to think about, but I do feel a bit better.”
And then she visibly straightened up in her chair, and I saw her shoulders lift and straighten. Without letting go of Kenny’s hand she turned to me and her eyes looked me full in the face.
“Mr —Mr—,” she stopped, swallowed and tried again. “Derek. It seems to me—” again she had to stop and swallow, “—it seems to me that I may have misjudged you a little.”
And I knew that those words were probably the hardest words she had ever had to say in her life.
I inclined my head towards her in a gesture of thanks, but I didn’t speak. Mrs Noble visibly pulled herself together again.
“Kenny has explained a lot of things,” she said, not taking her eyes off me, her voice quiet but resolute. “I understand—” another of those deep swallows, “—- I understand that your feel—– your rel—–” but she couldn’t bring herself to say either of the words and she drew a deep breath and cast around for another.
“I understand that the situation here is not what I first thought it was. Not what I was given to understand.” And she let out her breath and looked at Kenny.
I am not a violent man, by any means, but the thought flashed through my mind that if ever Jed was unfortunate enough to bump into me again, I would make sure he fully understood the cold anger that I felt inside me. Understood it and remembered it all his remaining life.
But I was careful to let nothing of this show on my face as I inclined my head towards her again, and this time murmured:-
“Thank you Mrs Noble. I am glad you understand that.”
She looked at me again.
“My son has made me understand,” she went on, “that if he hadn’t met you, he would —- he—“
I reached out and covered her other hand with my own for a few seconds.
“You don’t have to say anything more, Mrs Noble,” I murmured softly. “If you can understand what Kenny has explained to you, then that is enough. You don’t need to say more.”
She looked down at the tea, picked it up and drank some. Then she looked at me again.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “Kenny has made me understand —-made me believe, that he is very happy here.” She paused and looked hard at me with a searching gaze. “My son’s happiness — is the most important thing to me,” she said, still struggling with some of the words. “More important than my own feelings.”
I glanced at Kenny for the first time in a while. A tear was slowly rolling down his cheek.
“But, Mr —-“, Mrs Noble gulped, then went on, “but, —- Derek, —, I hope you will be able to understand that the situation here —–” her hand vaguely waved in the air, ” —this situation is abhorrent to me. Has been abhorrent all my life. To know that my son —-” and she paused as her lips trembled, but she clamped them together for a moment before she continued.
“To know that my son is involved — is a part of it, is very, very hurtful to me.”
Kenny moved his hand so that now his was covering hers. “Oh, Mum!” he whispered. “Mum!” A tear dropped onto the table but he didn’t notice.
Mrs Noble looked at him and gently brushed his hair. “I know, and I accept, that it’s not his fault,” she murmured in a quiet, sad and resigned voice. “I know it was his father who made him —– made him —-how he feels now.”
She drained the tea and held out the mug, looking from Kenny to me then back again.
“Could I…..?”
“Of course, Mum!” Kenny leapt to his feet and quickly made her a second drink. I saw him wipe his eyes with his knuckles as he turned away from the table. Mrs Noble laced her fingers and rested the edges of her hands on the table, looking down at them. After a few moments, she murmured:-
“I also wanted to say –“, she took a deep breath and looked up at me, ” —-I wanted to say sorry for what I said last night about this flat. It isn’t a hovel. I can see that it’s very nice. I apologise.”
And I knew that those words had also been very hard for her to say. She looked down at her hands again.
“I have missed my son. Missed him very much with all my heart. I have dreamed of him coming home one day. Coming home to me. He is part of my life. Now I have found him, and now I know and I understand the situation.”
She raised her eyes and looked at me as Kenny set her tea in front of her.
“It is hard for me to accept, but I understand it. I can now see for myself that you have been very good to him, and looked after him. But it would make me very happy, if he came home with me.”
There was a long, long silence.
Kenny’s eyes were full of tears and he had taken his mother’s hand again. He was looking at her and not at me. I gave a slight nod to Mrs Noble.
“I understand,” I said quietly. “And of course I accept your apology.”
She looked at Kenny, then at me.
“So what happens now?” she asked in an equally quiet voice.
I looked at Kenny, and time seemed to stand still, there was a stillness in the air, as if the three of us were a tableau, frozen in time for all eternity…………
And then I spoke, very quietly, looking straight at Kenny’s mother.
“I think,” I said, choosing my words very carefully, “that it is only right, that Kenny decides what happens now. And I believe, Mrs Noble,” I finished, very gently, “that you can agree with me about that.”
* * * * *
We both turned to look at Kenny. His eyes were fixed on his mother and were full of tears.
“Mum,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you too. So much. You know I love you very much. But because of what happened with —what happened to me, I had to leave. I didn’t know where I was going, or what I would do. I just knew I couldn’t stay there any longer.”
He paused and wiped his knuckles fiercely across his eyes again.
“But now, things are different. Now, I feel that nice things are happening in my life instead of horrible ones. Because of Desi,—” and he glanced at me with just a quick ghost of a sad smile, “— I have a new life, and I’m happy with that life.”
I saw the wetness appearing in Mrs Noble’s eyes again, because she knew what her son was going to say. And now so did I.
Kenny grasped his mother’s hand.
“Mum, I am not a little boy now.” His voice lowered to a soft murmur. “One day, I would leave you, our home, our life together, and start my own. You know that.” And she gave him the faintest of nods.
“Mum, please don’t ask me to give up my happiness now.”
He fell silent and watched her, and when she broke down and the tears came anew, he didn’t move, but just held her hand. She wiped her fingertips over her eyes and eventually straightened her back and nodded once.
“I thought,” she said in a gasping voice, “that you would probably say that. Of course I want you to be happy, but—“
“And I want you to be happy too, Mum,” he interrupted her. “But now you know where I am. You know about my life. You can call me, speak to me, whenever you feel like it.” He toyed with the phone again. “I can call you and tell you what’s new, and what I’m doing. You can come to visit. We may not be together, but we’ll be close again. I know it’s hard for you to accept, but please don’t ask me to give up my life and my happiness.”
There was a long silence again. Mrs Noble stifled her sobs and wiped her eyes once more. She nodded again at Kenny, then slowly turned to look at me.
“Could I —- could I really come to visit?”
“Of course,” I murmured with a little smile at her. “You would always be most welcome.”
I received a small sad smile in return. “Thank you.”
She gently pulled her hand away from Kenny’s.
“Very well,” she said with a great effort. She brushed his hair again in that way that mothers do. “My little boy has grown up since I last saw him.” Her hands moved in an appeal to the air.
“I shall have to explain all this to Samantha. God knows how I’m going to do that.” She looked from Kenny to me and back again, but neither of us said anything. That was something she would have to deal with alone.
“Mrs Noble,” I said quietly. “Please feel free to have a shower if you wish and make use of the bathroom. And anything else here that you wish.”
She nodded at me.
“I think… perhaps a shower would be nice,” she said hesitantly. I knew that it would be a ritual washing and cleansing for her, which is why I’d suggested it.
“Perhaps you’d like a little breakfast afterwards?”
“Perhaps —perhaps a little toast?” she ventured and I nodded. “It will be ready when you are.”
And now the three of us were sitting again in the kitchen. We’d all eaten something, if not much, and Kenny and I had cigarettes alight. Mrs Noble looked a good deal fresher and more composed and I was aware that I hadn’t had my own shower yet.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, “I’m going to use the bathroom too.”
I went to have my shave and shower and left Kenny to talk with his mother. And then Kenny went in his turn and I sat with a fresh coffee and a cigarette.
“Mrs Noble,” I said, as gently as I could. “The last thing I wish to do is to cause you any more distress, but would you mind telling me how much money you gave that boy last night?”
“Well, I gave him fifty pounds,” she said slowly. “Why?”
“Because,” I said, blowing a stream of cigarette smoke up to the ceiling, “That was a type of extortion. Or blackmail at the very least.”
That sort of money in one hit would keep Jed happy for a while, I thought.
Mrs Noble regarded me thoughtfully.
“May I…may I ask your advice about something?”
This was a surprise.
“Please do.”
“It’s — it’s about my husband,” she said nervously. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Kenny.”
She explained that he’d made no attempt to deny the things in Kenny’s letter. He couldn’t, because Kenny had disappeared, and the boy would have had no other reason to leave. So she told him she was leaving and that she would divorce him for adultery with an unknown co-respondent.
“Adultery!” she repeated, with that short harsh laugh again. “With our own son!”
She went on to explain that she’d made certain demands from him to ensure her own welfare, and that of Kenny’s should he return, and that if he didn’t comply with her demands in the divorce, she would go straight to the police with the letter which would ruin him and probably result in a lengthy jail sentence.
“He’s not wealthy, but he can afford to —- to pay for what he did. Was I — was I — is that blackmail?” she finished nervously, her hands twisting together on the table.
I considered for a while.
“No,” I said thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. I suppose, technically it is, but in any divorce a woman seeks to retain something of her life from it. Given the circumstances, and the fact that you had —shall we say a lever? — against your husband, I think anyone would have done much the same. Of course, if you had gone straight to the police with the letter, your husband would probably now be in jail, pending further enquiries if nothing more, and you would have kept everything.”
Mrs Noble nodded. “I thought about going to the police,” she said. “But I was so worried about Kenny, I kept leaving it and leaving it, hoping he would come back, or contact me, and in the end, I just never went. And I was frightened that our names would be in all the papers, and my family would be dragged all through the mud.”
“Of course,” I agreed. “No doubt that would have happened in the event of any court case. No, I think you acted wisely, given the state of mind you must have felt.”
She nodded again at me and gave me the slight smile.
“Thank you,” she said again. “I feel better about that now.”
Kenny returned from his room with fresh clothes on.
“I must be thinking about going back home,” Mrs Noble said reluctantly. She stood up and gave me a searching stare.
“Kenny, would you mind leaving me and Mr – leaving Derek and I alone for another minute or two?”
Kenny looked at me.
“If you wish, Mum.” He looked uncertain.
“Why don’t you nip down to the shop and get me a pack of smokes,” I suggested.
Kenny knew very well that I didn’t need any cigarettes.
“Okay,” he said doubtfully. I gave him some money and with a last uncertain glance back at us, he quietly let himself out of the front door.
Mrs Noble and I stood opposite one another for a few moments, just looking at one another. She opened her mouth to speak, but I stepped forward and took her hands in mine.
“Mrs Noble,” I said quietly, “I fully understand what a shock you had last night and I understand your feelings towards me. I know that this situation has caused you an immense amount of distress and heartache. Now that you understand matters a little better yourself, I would like you to accept my apologies for the distress it has caused you.”
She gazed at me for a while.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her hands left mine and her fingers wiped at her eyes.
“I just want to be sure of one thing,” she said, and she took a step nearer to me and her eyes searched my face.
“Will you look after my son?”
“Yes,” I answered her immediately. “I will look after your son, Mrs Noble, because, you see, he means a very great deal to me, too.”
She gave a little nod, but her eyes remained on my face. “Yes,” she murmured. “I have seen that he does.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, but Mrs Noble continued almost immediately.
“Last night, I could have killed you. I would have committed murder to save my son. But, lying in bed and thinking, as I did, I realised that Kenny was right. You are a good person in yourself. Some people might say that you were buying Kenny’s friendship. Last night I would have agreed. But now I see it differently and I know you have done the things you have out of genuine feelings for my son. You said nothing all evening and let Kenny and I deal with things ourselves. I realised that deserved my respect. But now, I just want to be sure that when I leave here, Kenny will still be as happy as he says he is. And that depends on you.”
I considered for a few moments, whether I should tell her or not.
“Mrs Noble, if I tell you one or two things, will you promise not to tell Kenny?”
A shadow flitted across her eyes and her voice was tinged with wariness as she asked, “What things? Your secrets? I don’t want to know about them.”
“Not about that,” I said gently. “Secrets, yes. From Kenny. He doesn’t know, and I must have your solemn promise not to breathe a word to him if I tell you.”
She still looked apprehensive so I said, “I think you would be happy to know about them.”
Her eyes roved round my face again and came back to my own eyes.
“Very well.” She nodded rather reluctantly. “You have my word I won’t say anything to Kenny.”
So I told her my proposals. As I explained her eyes grew wide and she stepped back from me.
“You really mean all that?” she asked in disbelief.
“I do,” I told her. “I have already started.” And I explained what I meant. “And then,” I finished, “we shall see about the second matter, and then the third.”
Mrs Noble’s face had softened during my explanations and for the first time there was the hint of a genuine smile at the corners of her mouth.
“I promise,” she repeated, “I won’t breathe a word of this to him.”
And then the smile faded and the worried look appeared again on her face. “I am so sorry that I thought so badly of you, Derek,” she said quietly. “I can see now that it was a mistake. It was very wrong of me.”
“No,” I said gently. “It was a natural reaction from a mother who loves her son.”
She nodded, and we both heard Kenny’s key in the lock as he returned.
* * * * *
We’d both gone with his mother to the station and she and I had parted at the barrier to the platform. She’d looked at me and held out a hand hesitantly.
“Goodbye, Derek,” she murmured, and I could see final doubts and worries flit across her eyes before they cleared and she gave me her little smile.
“Perhaps — we shall meet again.”
“I would like that,” I said, and I watched as Kenny walked with her along the platform until they stopped beside an open carriage door. I moved away a little from the barrier, wanting to be seen to give them complete privacy to say their own goodbyes, and lit a cigarette. After a while, the mundane sounds of doors closing, a guard’s whistle blowing and the faint sound of the locomotive horn sounded as the train began to pull away.
Kenny and I walked back home in almost complete silence. I could see that he was very thoughtful and I knew it would be better not to disturb him.
At one point, staring at the ground as he walked along he said, “I suppose I should thank Jed for bringing Mum and me together again.”
“Thank him?” I queried. “I would have thought a smack in the mouth would be more appropriate,” I added through clenched teeth.
“Des!” Kenny stopped and turned to look at me. “I’ve never heard you be so aggressive! Why a smack—“
“Because there was no reason to put your Mum through the misery he did!” I interrupted him.
I wasn’t going to mention the money, but that was another reason.
Kenny resumed walking slowly, without saying anything more.
And now we were back at the flat. We stood looking at each other for a few moments, and then by an unspoken mutual feeling, we both stepped towards each other and clasped each other in a long hug.
“Are you okay?” I murmured, and he nodded.
“I’m fine,” he said firmly. And Mum is fine too, now.”
I thought perhaps ‘fine’ was slightly too strong a word. ‘Better’, would probably be more accurate, but I didn’t voice my opinion.
“What would you like to do now?” I asked him. “Anything in particular?”
“No,” he answered. “I just want to be near you.”
And so we stayed, hugging each other for a long while.
“Are you going to work now?” he asked eventually.
“No,” I told him. “Not today.”
And he nodded and snuggled against my chest. After a while, he said, “I’m a bit tired. I wouldn’t mind a nap.”
I agreed, and we went to my room and stripped off our T-shirts then lay on the bed in our jeans, holding each other tightly.
Kenny soon fell asleep, and it wasn’t long before I felt my own eyes drooping and I fell into a doze.
I was woken some time later by the sound of Kenny’s phone ringing where he’d left it, in the kitchen. Kenny hadn’t heard it, so I shook his shoulder gently.
“Kenny. Phone.”
He came awake, slipped off the bed and disappeared out of the door. I glanced at the clock, and realised with a shock I’d slept for nearly four hours. Perhaps the events of last night and this morning had taken more energy out of me than I’d realised. I heard Kenny’s end of the conversation.
“Hallo Mum… good…yes, fine. Good journey? …Okay. Yes…I understand. Well, I hope it goes well. Call me and let me know. Yes. Okay…love you. Bye.”
He came back to the bedroom and pulled a wry face at me.
“Mum’s home safely. Aunt Sammie picked her up from the station okay. Now she’s going to start explaining everything to her.” And he pulled the wry face again.
I was sitting on the bed, enjoying a cigarette. “Not easy,” I commented.
Kenny came to sit beside me. “No,” he agreed. “But good that she’ll have someone to share it all with, who she can talk to about it sometimes.”
The adult Kenny again. He put an arm round me.
“I’m so glad I’m here, Desi. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, turning to look at his face. “I know it.” I paused, then added gently, “I’ll leave it to you to decide when you want to ……resume… our normal way of life.”
Kenny cocked an eyebrow at me and a smile appeared on his face.
“You mean, when I want to fuck you, or be fucked, or be sucked, or suck you?” he enquired mischievously.
I stubbed out my smoke. “Well actually, I was thinking of eating, drinking, smoking—–“
And Kenny threw back his head in laughter and grabbed at me with his other hand and pushed me back on the bed and for a while we grappled and twisted and tickled and just enjoyed a little physical fun and closeness, and a release from the tension.
But the nearness of each other and the feel of our hands brushing, rubbing, holding as we rolled about, each striving to get the upper hand over the other, brought about a natural reaction, and after a while we both paused, looking at one another.
“You’re hard,” Kenny said, brushing the fly of my trousers.
I grasped at the bulge of his cock inside his jeans.
“And what are you?” I asked.
“Horny,” he said immediately, and his hand unzipped me and slid inside my fly, fondling and rubbing my cock through my pants.
I felt the warmth of his soft skin as he lay against me, his favourite position, half on top of me. He undid the top of my trousers and left them open and unzipped. Gently he withdrew his hand from my cock and rolled to lie closer to me. His hands began to caress my own skin, rubbing my chest and stomach as far down as the waist of my trousers as he planted little kisses on me, my face, neck, throat, chest.
“Just lie still,” he murmured.
He began to rub himself against me, small, gentle movements, little thrusts as his hard rod, still inside his own pants and jeans rubbed against my own. I lay quite still and enjoyed the feeling of his cock against my own, separated by layers of clothing, but so hard that I could feel it in all its ramrod glory. His kisses continued and his tongue traced little patterns on my neck and chest. My own cock remained hard, straining upwards inside my pants as Kenny rubbed against me. It was a surprisingly erotic feeling and with each gentle thrust of his body against mine, my cock responded with its own pulse, swelling a little more with each movement against me.
“I’m so glad we can relax again,” Kenny murmured. “It’s a weight off my mind.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I agreed softly.
Kenny continued his slow, unhurried rubbing against me, his lips and tongue never stopping in their tasting and questing over the top half of my body.
“I like doing this,” Kenny murmured.
I liked it too, and I wondered what he would do when he felt himself close to cumming.
But he didn’t do anything, just continued in the same way for several minutes. Suddenly his movements paused, and then started again, slightly harder and more urgent and I felt his hard cock quiver inside his jeans. He let out little gasps with each small thrust, and with each quiver of his rod, and I knew that he had rubbed himself to a climax and he was shooting his hot cum into his pants as he lay against me and his body gave a little shudder.
“Oh, nice!” he breathed. “Nice!”
He lay still for a moment and I felt the last few jerks of his cock as his orgasm subsided. He took my hand and placed it on his fly.
“Touch me now,” he whispered, and I undid his jeans and slowly pulled the zip down. I could feel the warm wetness of his cum on the jeans, and as I opened the fly and allowed my fingers to quest over his pants, they reached the hot stickiness of his cum which had soaked through them.
Again Kenny took my hand and now he held it hard, rubbing himself with my own fingertips and palm as he pressed my hand against the wet pants. He pushed my hand inside the waistband and I felt his cream everywhere on his stomach. He used my hand to wipe himself, spreading and smearing the hot cream over himself and over his cock and the tops of his thighs.
He let out his breath in a long sigh. “That is so nice!” he said again. Finally he pulled my hand from inside his wet pants and rolled away from me a little, his eyes closed but still grasping my hand. He pushed inside the waist of my own pants and made my fingers curl round my hard cock, the wet cum from him spreading over my shaft as he made me grip it. I felt his hot stickiness against my rod, and it strained in my hand, forced to hold it tightly by the grip of Kenny’s own fingers. Slowly he began to move, holding me firmly and stroking up and down so that I had no choice but to grip my own cock and wank myself.
“I love holding your cock,” he breathed. “I love the feel of it, I love the feel of my cum on it, I love the heat I can feel, and I love the thought that in a minute you’re going to cum yourself and shoot your own hot cream out.”
His words acted as an aphrodisiac and I felt the tremor in my balls. Kenny must have felt it too, and he suddenly swivelled round and put his face down near my cock, without stopping his movements. He aimed my helmet at his face and as I felt the first surge reach my cock I gasped and shot my first spurt of cum, straight onto his face. He still continued to make me wank myself and gush after gush of my own cum shot from my cock and splashed against his face. He moved my cock slightly each time so that his face became covered with my hot white cream. It had been a while since we had enjoyed sex together, and with the release of all the tension my cock kept jerking and quivering and my cum kept shooting over him. I was surprised how many times I shot a jet of hot stickiness onto his face, but finally my spasms died away.
Kenny released my hand and brought his face up to mine. Silently he nuzzled against my cheeks and neck and throat, spreading my cum over his face and mine and over as much of us both as he could.
He licked a quantity from my face and then pressed his lips against mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth and leaving some of my own hot cum there as our tongues met and twisted and lapped together.
Finally we lay still, just holding each other and enjoying the feel of each other, the sensations of our mixed cum and the heat from our orgasms as we recovered our breath and relaxed in the aftermath of such heady sexual frenzy.
After a while, Kenny leaned over and took my cock in his hand again.
“I’m going to make you hard again,” he said. He opened his lips and started to suck at my cock, his tongue playing around my helmet as he licked and sucked at the cum on my rod.
“It’s too soon,” I murmured, but Kenny ignored me and continued to use every trick he knew to suck, lick, fondle and arouse my cock. I didn’t think I could have another erection that quickly, and the first few touches of his lips and tongue were almost painful as I was still so sensitive, but to my surprise, after just a few minutes I realised that I was becoming hard again, slowly, but surely. Kenny used his fingers and hands, cupping my balls, occasionally licking at them, rubbing his finger behind them as far as he could reach and always his tongue and lips were on my cock, bringing me up to a full erection much sooner than I would have expected.
He paused, quickly stripped off his jeans, and lay back down in just his pants, still wonderfully wet and warm from his cum. He pulled my own trousers and pants down to my ankles and I kicked free of them. His lips and tongue went back to my cock and resumed their work, caressing and licking at me. I was amazed that he could produce such a reaction so soon after the massive orgasm I’d already had. I lay quietly and enjoyed all the sensations he was producing in me.
When he was satisfied he’d got me as hard as he could, Kenny suddenly moved and pulled his pants off, throwing them to one side. He knelt over me, straddling me. then lowered himself on to my cock and I guided it into his rosebud as he evidently wanted. I slid into him and relished the feeling of his ass muscles gripping at me as he lowered himself right onto me.
And then he began to move up and down, very hard, very fast, sliding up and down on my cock and giving a little gasp each time he lowered himself onto my length.
“I want it hard!” he gasped out. “I want to be fucked as hard as you can!”
I began to lift my hips to meet his downward thrusts and the pace and speed and urgency of his movements became almost frenetic as he bounced up and down as fast as he could, his cheeks slapping on my thighs each time. I could feel my cock surrounded by his ass, gripped tightly and hotly as he pounded up and down on me in a frenzy of sexual excitement.
His cock was in front of me, half erect, and I took it my hand and gently stroked him as he moved up and down.
“I – love – your – cock – in – me!” he gasped. “I – love – being – fucked – by – you!”
And as he thrust himself down on to me one more time I shot a gush of cum into him.
“YES!” he cried out and raised himself once more and immediately sank down hard onto me and stayed there as spurt after spurt of cum shot from my cock into his ass. He raised himself a little once more and I felt my hot cum running down my cock, still buried within him. Again he thrust down onto me and again lifted himself, using my cum as a lubricant to allow my cock to slide inside him and pound at the depths of his ass. I felt two more gushes of cum shoot from me and then I sank back onto the bed, gasping myself, my heart pounding.
Kenny stayed where he was, my cock buried inside him, his back arched as he closed his eyes and gasped.
“Desi! Desi!” he gasped. “God! That was gorgeous!”
I felt my cum running out from him and settling on my stomach and running down my balls.
I nodded, too breathless to be able to say anything. We stayed like that for a few moments, then Kenny gently eased himself upwards. As my cock left his rosebud I felt him expel the cum in him and it splashed onto me, warm, wet sticky, – and utterly delightful. Kenny lowered himself again and wriggled his ass against me, wiping the cum over his own cheeks and rosebud.
We were both still out of breath but Kenny reached for his pants and pulled them back up then lay beside me on the bed.
“I want to keep all your cum in my pants and feel it hot on my ass,” he murmured.
I reached over and slid my hand down inside the back of his pants. I felt the hot sticky cum on my fingers and massaged his cheeks, spreading as much as I could over him and using a fingertip to spread the hot cum into his crease and over his jewel. He made little murmurs of enjoyment. I relished the feel of his soft skin against my fingers;- his young, firm cheeks, completely smooth and his rosebud devoid of hair where he had so carefully shaved himself for me.
I rolled him slightly to one side and slid my hand around to his front. My fingers brushed against his soft smooth skin and I caressed his mound, feeling his soft cock against my fingers and my palm.
If Kenny could bring me to a second erection and climax so soon after the first massive one, then I felt sure he could also get hard again quickly. I began to hold his cock and wank him gently and sure enough his cock swelled in my hand, becoming hotter as it engorged with his young, hot blood filling it.
“What do you want?” I asked him softly.
“To fuck you!” he answered eagerly. “I want to fuck you hard! I want to push my cock into your ass as hard as I can and fuck you and fill you with cum! Sit on me now!”
By now his cock was as hard as ever and I let it go as I rolled over to kneel above him as he had knelt above me. His cock was rampant and he held the base of it with his fingers as I lowered myself towards it. He rubbed the tip a few times up and down my crease, then guided it into my rosebud. His hands went to my hips and he pulled me down onto him, hard. He pushed himself upwards against me and I began to move up and down, sliding along the length of his gorgeous hot and quivering rod.
“Harder, Desi!” he implored and so I thrust down onto him as hard as I could.
“Yes! Like that!” he gasped. He thrust up as hard as he could to meet me each time. I gazed down at his young body, his smooth skin glistening with perspiration and his eyes closed as he heaved up against me. I could feel the softness of his mound against my balls each time I lowered myself and the heat of his thighs as my cheeks slapped against them.
“Harder!” he cried again. I thought if I slammed down onto him any harder I would hurt him, but he was oblivious of everything and his hands gripped my hips and he continued to pull me down each time as if his life depended on it.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” he gasped and I felt the first of his spasms inside my ass. The jet of cum shot into me so hard it almost felt like something solid, and it was followed by two more huge spurts of hot cum, each time feeling more solid than just creamy spunk. His cock, still rampantly hard and hot slid even easier in me as I continued to pound up and down on his rod sliding inside me in its covering of sticky wetness.
He let out a long groan as he thrust upwards one more time and kept his hips clear of the bed, pushing himself up into me as far and as hard as he could as his shaft spurted his cum again and again into me. As his spasms subsided he opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Oh, Desi!” he breathed. “Desi!”
I smiled down at him. “Nice?” I murmured.
“Gorgeous!” he whispered. “Just amazing! Wait! Stay as you are!”
I didn’t move as he lowered his hips back onto the bed, sliding gently out of my ass as his cock began to lose its hardness. He quickly cupped his hand and placed it between my legs as I remained poised above him. I felt his cupped hand covering my jewel and as my muscles expelled his cum from my ass he caught it in his hand and then rubbed it over my ass and balls and round to my cock, covering me as much as he could with the warm, white creamy cum. He let his hand fall beside him and lay with his eyes closed.
I rolled away from him and stood beside the bed, looking down at this young man, lean, lithe, supple, and despite my two huge orgasms within a short time, still infinitely desirable.
I knew that I would never find anyone like Kenny, if I searched the world forever and a day, I would never find another person who was so completely and utterly a match for me. I bent down and planted a kiss on his warm, wet cock.
“Well, I don’t know about you,” I murmured, ” but now I’m bloody starving!”
* * * * *
It was several weeks later, and I had decided that it was time to put into effect the first of the three proposals I’d outlined to Kenny’s mother. They’d had several conversations on the phone in that time, and their relationship had returned to a much more normal level. Kenny’s aunt, Samantha, had taken the news of his present circumstances with surprising aplomb, he told me. After an initial shock to learn of his time as a rent-boy, she had accepted the fact that he was gay and had found someone with whom he was happy and whom he trusted, and took the news that he had settled down in a permanent new home much better than had Kenny’s own mother, probably because the blood ties were not so strong. She had also pacified Mrs Noble to a great extent, and there now seemed to be a quiet peace between all three of them – although Mrs Noble had not re-visited us and of course the aunt had not met me, either. But Kenny was much more cheerful and we had developed our own pattern of life together which suited us both.
So I came home from work one day to find the flat spotless, as usual, and Kenny sitting in the lounge reading the TV magazine. I sat down beside him.
“Kenny,” I began, “I want to ask you something and I want an absolutely honest, straightforward answer with no evasions or beating about the bush. Okay?”
“Of course, Desi,” he said. He looked a bit shocked. “This sounds serious. Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” I assured him. “Couldn’t be better. At least, from my point of view. And that’s the point.”
I regarded him thoughtfully as he watched me with a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Kenny, are you completely happy here with me?”
He gazed at me for a moment.
“With you, here, yes, unreservedly,” he replied. “But you asked me to be honest and I will be. I’m slightly bored during the day when you’re at work.”
I nodded. “I thought you might be,” I said. “But as far as you and I are concerned, our life together, our sex together, you’re happy? Or is there anything else that you feel isn’t quite right?”
He twisted on the sofa and cupped my face in his hands.
“Desi,” he said earnestly, “My life here with you is wonderful. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I like living with you. I like sharing my life with you and sharing yours. And as for the sex – well, you know very well that it’s terrific. Amazing.”
He paused and his eyes searched my face.
“What’s happened? Or what’s wrong? Why are you asking me this?”
“Nothing’s wrong at all,” I told him with a smile. “I just wanted to be sure that you were happy in every way, except perhaps that your days are a bit boring when you’re alone.”
“Yes, they are,” he agreed.
“Well, I’ve got a little surprise for you,” I said.
I drew some papers from my pocket and gave them to him.
“What’s this?” he queried, and began to unfold them and look at them. After a while he raised his eyes and looked at me.
“Fill in the forms,” I said.
Kenny stared at me.
“Desi, that’s so nice of you,” he murmured. “But what about the photographs?”
“We’ll go out after dinner to a photo booth and take some,” I explained. “Then I’ll post everything tomorrow.”
Kenny dropped the papers on the coffee table and reached round to hug me hard.
“You do so much for me,” he murmured.
“Well, there’s a bit more,” I said. “I expect it will take about three weeks or so for those forms to be processed, so if you can survive the boredom until then, I’ve booked you a series of driving lessons which should start just when they send you your provisional licence.”
Kenny’s mouth gaped open.
“You’ve booked driving lessons as well?” he repeated.
“I have. Two hours a day, five days, for three weeks. That should be enough for you to take the driving tests. If you need more, okay, I’ll book them for you. Now you’ll have something to do every day, at least for a while.”
Kenny looked confused and shook his head. “But we don’t have a car!” he pointed out.
“One thing at a time,” I told him. “Let’s see how you get on with the lessons and test, and if you pass and get a full licence we’ll think about some wheels to go with the licence.”
That was only a small part of my plans, but I wasn’t going to tell him yet what I really had in mind. Time enough for that when he’d passed his test.
Kenny clambered onto me in his favourite position and held me tightly.
“How can I ever pay you back for all the nice things you’ve done, and are still doing!” he whispered.
“You pay me back every day,” I told him, “just by being yourself, by being here with me, wearing the things I like to see on you and because you give me such wonderful sexual highs every time we have sex.”
“That’s a two-way thing, Desi,” he said firmly. “I don’t fake my orgasms, you know! Every time I have a climax from you, it blows my mind!”
I hugged him and gave him a kiss.
“Good!” I said. “Then let’s eat and we’ll go and get some photos taken of you.”
The photos were duly produced, the forms sent off and a little more than two weeks later Kenny’s licence arrived in the post. I called the driving school and brought the start date of his lessons forward so that he could start them straight away. Arriving home on the day of his very first lesson, I was greeted by a whirling bundle of arms and energy as soon as I’d stepped into the hall.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Kenny greeted me, hugging me and reaching up to kiss me. “It was great! The instructor said I’m a natural.”
This didn’t surprise me at all. I’d instinctively felt that Kenny would take to driving as a duck takes to water. He led me into the lounge and we sat down as he regaled me with details of his first lesson. I listened patiently as he concluded:- “And he says I probably won’t need so many lessons after all. He says we could book the tests now, because there’s always a wait to get a date, anyway.”
“Excellent!” I said. “I’m so pleased for you. Go ahead and let him book the tests then. But you might as well have all the lessons, it won’t do any harm.”
Kenny nodded. “Whatever you think,” he agreed. He gazed at me for a moment or two. “Desi, I want to do something special for you! Tell me what you’d like me to do for you tonight.”
“Hmmm! Let me think a bit,” I said. “I think we’ll do something special.”
“Okay,” he replied simply. “Anything you like.”
“Something we haven’t done before.”
His eyes went blank for a few seconds and I knew he was remembering all the things that we had done together over the past weeks. Then he chuckled.
“Desi, there isn’t anything that we haven’t done before.”
“Oh yes, there is,” I told him. “I can think of two or three things.”
Again his eyes told me that he was trying to think of some sexual adventure or pleasure that we hadn’t experienced together.
“Oh, Desi. You’re not thinking of a threesome, are you?”
His voice was despondent, and his eyes were now full of worry.
“No,” I said firmly. “Absolutely not! I am not interested in any sex of any kind except with you.”
Kenny looked relieved.
“Well then, you’ve got me,” he said. “I can’t think of anything we can do that we haven’t already tried.”
I gazed at him for a moment.
“Well,” I said, “We’ve never used sex toys.” I paused. “And I have never asked you to fill your pants.”
“Fill? You mean – at the back?”
“Yes.”
Kenny looked surprised.
“No,” he agreed. “We haven’t done that before. I haven’t done that before.” He gazed at me pensively. “But you have? You like it? If you do – if that’s what you want, it’s no problem.”
“I have done,” I agreed. “I used to like it a lot. But not so much in recent years.”
“As I said, it’s no problem,” Kenny murmured. “Messy, though, I would think,” he added thoughtfully.
“Can be. But that’s not what I have in mind for tonight,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Oh, it’s a surprise,” I went on. “But we do need a bit of preparation. I want you to put on my favourite pants, the ones with the open fly that are full of piss and cum. I’ll do the same.”
Kenny went to put them on and when he returned I explained what came next.
“When you have to pee next, tell me and I’ll come with you.”
“It won’t be long,” Kenny said. “I’ve already had coffees and teas enough to almost fill my bladder.”
“Good.”
When piss and cum are combined in cotton material it produces a particular fragrance, a heady smell like no other. The pee is there, but there is another smell, hard to describe, but which just tells you, SEX. Depending on which fluid has most recently soaked the cotton, one or other of the two aromas is strongest. I loved that combined fragrance, and Kenny was well aware of it. In due course he told me that he needed to go, and we both went to the bathroom. Kenny stood in front of the bowl, expecting me to hold his lovely cock as he peed, but I said no, I wanted something else.
“Sit down,” I said, “but leave your pants up.”
He happily obliged, and I felt my own cock stirring as the fly on his cum and piss-stained pants opened briefly, revealing a quick flash of his soft cock. I gently opened his legs and put my hand inside that open fly, grasping his cock and feeling the warmth of it in my hand. I carefully angled it upwards inside the material so that it was pointing up towards the waistband. His rod began to harden and I felt him push forward against my hand.
“No,” I told him. “Not now.”
He looked disappointed.
“Yes, I want it too,” I added softly. Even as I spoke I could feel him hardening until he was at half-mast. Reluctantly I withdrew my hand.
“Keep it pointing up,” I said, “and just let the first little gush wet your pants. After that, stop.”
He nodded, looked down and after a few moments I saw the cotton grow darker as he allowed himself to flow into his pants.
“Okay,” I said.
He nodded and screwed his face up. “Bit hard to stop now,” he muttered.
I told him to change places with me and I sat down myself, Kenny standing in front of me.
“Ooo! Need to go!” he murmured.
I eased his cock through the open fly with one hand and directed it at my own pants.
“Now, you can let go,” I told him.
I’d hardly finished speaking when I felt the gush of pee inside his cock through my palm, and his warm jet of golden shower shot at me and hit my stomach and pants, soaking the material and running down my thighs and balls until they were soaked and I could hear it dripping into the bowl.
Finally the flow stopped.
“Needed that!” Kenny gasped. “I was busting!”
“I can tell,” I remarked dryly. “It was exactly what I wanted.”
“You know,” Kenny began softly, “while we’re in here, I can do the other thing for you, if you want. I could easily fill – “
“No,” I interrupted him. “Little Kenny, I’ll let you know if I want that.” I thought for a moment. “But I’ll tell you what,” I went on. “Stop using any paper afterwards, and see how we go with that. Maybe I shall be happy with that, or maybe it’ll trigger a desire for more. We’ll see. But just pull up your pants afterwards without using any paper.”
Kenny nodded, smiled, then leaned forward and kissed me gently.
“Whatever makes you happy, Desi.”
We lazed away the afternoon, opening a bottle of wine and enjoying it slowly. Kenny was studying his driving theory manual, – a test on which he would have to pass first before he could take the practical driving test on the road. After his second glass of wine, Kenny withdrew his cock from his pants and looked at me.
“I really want you,” he said. “Come and suck me. Or at least wank me. I want to feel you close to me, want to feel you playing with my cock.”
I shook my head. “No, we’re going to save it for my surprise,” I said firmly.
“So I can’t even do it myself?” he asked, beginning to stroke himself up and down.
“Put it away!” I said in mock severity. “Don’t touch it again unless you have to pee, in which case do what you did before, again.”
“Spoilsport!” grumbled Kenny, but he was smiling as he tucked away his gorgeous flesh inside his pants.
Truth to tell, I wanted nothing more than to fulfil his wish and go to hold that lovely smooth, hot cock, or take it in my mouth and suck it and lick it until he could hold back no longer and gushed his hot cum over me, or into my mouth. But I was sure that would lessen the effect of my little plan, so I didn’t touch him.
At about 6.30 I told him we were going out.
“For a walk?” he asked.
“Among other things. I want you to wear your loose, black tracksuit bottoms. Tee-shirt, and I suppose a light jacket, because it might be a bit cooler by the time we come home.”
“This is all very intriguing,” Kenny observed.
We both had the same tracksuit, with loose fitting cotton trousers sporting zip pockets. They were quite baggy, and very comfortable. We changed into them, both of us still wearing our favourite pants full of cum and pee. I made sure I had my wallet, — I was going to need that — keys and cigarettes, and we set off.
Every time Kenny moved near me it wafted that erotic aroma from his pants into the air. I sniffed appreciatively.
“Do love that smell,” I commented. I was sure other people passing by, or nearby, would also catch whiffs of it, but I didn’t care. They could think what they liked.
I locked up the place and we strolled into the centre, stopping occasionally to window-shop. It was a mild, end-of-summer evening, and as we reached the pedestrian precinct I headed for a wine bar that we’d frequented before.
“Let’s sit outside and have a glass of wine and a ciggy,” I suggested. This passed a comfortable and gentle half hour.
“I’m still trying to work out what this special surprise is,” Kenny remarked at one point.
“You’ll see,” I told him mischievously. “Not long now.”
“Whatever it is, my balls are bursting with cum,” Kenny said. “I’ve wanted sex all afternoon and when I cum, there’s going to be a lot of it.”
I just smiled at him. Eventually, our wine glasses regretfully empty, I decided it was time to move on.
“Don’t know about you,” I ventured casually, “but I’m getting quite hungry.”
“Are we eating out?” he enquired.
I nodded. “Thought we might.”
A few minutes further strolling brought us to a restaurant I’d seen many times but never tried. On the pretext of stopping to look at the menu displayed in the window, I examined the interior through the glass. As I’d thought, it was exactly what I needed. Apart from the tables set in the centre of the room, there were a set of areas around the walls which seemed to be like private booths;- the tables and bench seats partly screened by three-quarter-width decorative trellis panels with a gap at one side for customers and waiters to enter the secluded booth. The trelliswork had small gaps in the top three feet, which meant that the tables themselves, the seats and the lower half of any customers were hidden from view and quite private. A customer could see out, and catch a waiter’s eye, but no-one could see in and watch a customer eating. The restaurant had several customers, but it wasn’t full.
“Let’s try this place,” I suggested. “It looks nice and the menu is pretty comprehensive.”
“Cool!” Kenny responded. “They have veal and I’ve never tried it. Is it nice?”
“Very,” I assured him.
It took but a minute or two to enter, indicate the booths and be shown to one on the far wall by the Maitre d’, who produced two menus with a flourish and asked if we’d like an aperitif. Kenny selected a vodka tonic and I chose a malt whisky.
I was looking forward to getting started on the main part of my plan, but I waited until we’d studied the menus, chosen our meals – Veal Zurichoisse for Kenny and boned duck with a port wine sauce for me, both preceded by a prawn cocktail starter – placed our orders and I’d selected a bottle of Chateauneuf Du Pape to accompany the meals.
“I like this place,” Kenny remarked. “Nice atmosphere and décor.” He settled back and took a sip of his vodka.
“Secluded,” I commented, and put my hand on his thigh. I’d made sure that Kenny had entered the booth first, so he was sitting in the corner formed by the wall behind him and the solid partition between us and the next booth. Instead of sitting opposite him, with my back to the trellis screen, I sat beside him, a vital part of my plan, so Kenny was on my left. It allowed us both to see out through the trellis into the main area of the restaurant.
I felt the slightest of jerks in Kenny’s leg as my fingers trailed up the fabric of the tracksuit until it reached his groin.
“Don’t do that!” he whispered. “I’ll get a hard on, and it’s not fair! I’ve wanted that all afternoon and you wouldn’t, but now you’re teasing me and making me even hornier.”
I let my fingers rove until I could feel his soft cock through the tracksuit. As I expected, it immediately began to harden and I began to rub it gently.
“Desi!” he implored. “Don’t tease me now!”
“I’m not going to,” I told him and removed my hand. I’d seen the waiter approaching with our starters. As he entered the booth and deftly placed the plates in front of us we were both toying with our drinks.
I waited, sure that the wine waiter would appear momentarily, and sure enough he was heading our way. He offered me the taste of the luscious red wine after uncorking it in that efficient and professional way that wine waiters have everywhere, but which you can never seem to emulate at home. I nodded and he quickly poured a half glass for each of us and set the bottle on the table.
Kenny was already tucking into his prawn starter and savouring the Sauce Marie Rose and the buttered brown bread that came with it. I used my right hand to fork some lettuce and prawns and let my left hand rest on Kenny’s thigh again. This time I made a point of gently squeezing his leg and moved my hand so I could grasp his cock properly. I began to gently wank him through his clothes.
He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and then continued eating slowly.
His cock became harder inside his clothes until I could feel that it had almost reached its full ramrod state.
“Cruel!” Kenny murmured. “That’s really wicked of you. Nice, but wicked.”
I made sure my movements were very slow and gentle, enough to keep him hard and excited, but not enough to make him cum.
As he finished eating I removed my hand again and glanced down. Sure enough, his cock was visible inside his tracksuit and pants, rigidly standing up and pointing towards the corded and elastic waistband of the tracksuit.
I finished my own starter and sat back.
“Not fair!” Kenny whispered. “Look at me! Now what am I going to do?”
“Nothing,” I replied. He glanced at me but said no more.
Our waiter arrived shortly after and cleared away our plates. We sipped at the wine and I waited. In due course our main meals arrived. Kenny started on his with great relish, making little approving noises at the taste of the veal. I had deliberately ordered the boned duck as I wanted to keep one hand mostly free. I cut up the meat the American way, into bite sized chunks, so I could eat it all with my fork in my right hand and not need to use a knife much at all.
As Kenny continued to enjoy his meal, I gently undid the cord of his tracksuit and pulled at the waistband to give myself some room. Slowly I slid my hand inside the tracksuit, feeling the tip of Kenny’s lovely rod inside his pants and still quite hard. Slowly my fingers moved down towards the open fly and probed inside. His hot flesh jerked as I carefully eased it outside his pants and cupped my hand around it.
Kenny began to breathe faster. I glanced at his face, and his eyes were big and round, but fastened firmly on the gaps in the trellis as he watched for anyone approaching our booth. I knew there would be at least one more interruption before long, so I just gently wanked his hot, hard cock inside his tracksuit, feeling the backs of my fingertips brushing against the warm fabric of his pants, still erotically damp from his earlier pee, as his cock strained in my hand.
“If you do that I shall cum!” Kenny whispered tersely. “I will!”
“We can’t have that!” I murmured, and kept my hand still.
“Don’t move!” Kenny warned me. “Another stroke or two and I won’t be able to stop myself shooting it all out!”
I saw the Maitre d’ heading our way and removed my hand from Kenny’s clothes. The man popped his head around the screen and enquired if everything was alright and did we need anything else?
“No, thank you. We’re coming along nicely,” I said with a straight face.
“Excellent,” said the Maitre d’. “I’ll leave you to finish in peace.”
I heard a slight noise from Kenny, a sort of half cough, half snort. He had continued eating and had almost finished his meal. The Maitre d’ disappeared into the depths of the restaurant.
I continued on the last few morsels of my own meal and my left hand went back inside Kenny’s tracksuit. As I’d half expected, whether because I hadn’t touched him for a bit, or because the Maitre d’ had appeared I wasn’t sure, but his gorgeous rod had lost some of its hardness and was lying against his pants, hot, firm and engorged. I grasped him again gently and slowly slid my hand down towards the base of his cock, feeling the soft foreskin slide back until his helmet was nestling against the edge of my hand. I reversed the movement, closing his skin over the helmet, and then back again, a very, very slow stroking that I could feel was bringing him back to full erection. His helmet grew larger and more engorged as the edge of my hand brushed against it with each stroke. Kenny’s eyes were closed and he was leaning back against the seat. He pushed his hips forward as I stroked him.
“Oh that is so nice!” Kenny murmured. “But you’re a rotten sod for doing that here, now, when I shall have to wait till we’re home to cum.”
I spied a waiter approaching and removed my hand once more.
“You keep bringing me right to the edge, you sod!” Kenny whispered. “You rotten tease!”
The waiter enquired if we wished to see the dessert trolley but I told him we’d decline for the moment as we wished to enjoy the wine, and we’d signal him when we were ready for dessert. He gave a perfunctory little half bow and moved away.
Now there should be, I’d estimated, a period when we should remain undisturbed.
It was time for the main part of my little surprise.
Slipping my hand once more inside Kenny’s tracksuit trousers I took his cock in my hand again and began to stroke him up and down.
“I warned you,” Kenny murmured, his eyes closing in pleasure again, “that I would have to cum if you did that. Please stop. We’re in a public restaurant, and if someone sees we’re going to be arrested.”
“They won’t see,” I assured him.
“I’ve never cum in a public place,” Kenny murmured. “The thought of it is exciting.”
And then he opened his eyes wide and turned his head to look at me.
“That’s your surprise, isn’t it?” he gasped. “You wanted to have some sex in front of other people.”
“Well, not in front of them,” I corrected, “but with other people nearby.”
His cock was now ramrod hard again, and our conversation about, or the thought of, a public area made his member even harder, hotter and more rigid in my hand than I thought he’d ever been. He pushed his hips forward again against my hand.
“I can’t cum here!” he gasped softly. “It’ll show as a wet patch on my clothes! Everybody will see when we leave.”
“Yes they will,” I agreed, and I felt his cock twitch strongly. “So what? You dropped some wine, gravy, whatever, on your clothes.”
I could feel his cock quivering and I knew it would be only moments more before he lost control.
“Nobody will know,” I continued carefully, “that I have wanked you off into your clothes and the wet mark is where you have shot your load of wonderful hot, sticky, creamy, spunk all over your pants and inside your tracksuit.”
His cock was like a steel rod in my hand and I hoped my carefully chosen words would be enough to make him cum. I felt the quivering in its entire length as I slid his foreskin up as far as it would go to the base of his helmet. He was much too big and engorged for it to pass over and enclose it, and I paused there for a second or two.
“Just hold it back and wait as long as you can,” I finished. I slid my hand down to the base of his cock once more and then wanked him much faster for a couple of strokes, finishing with my fingertip tracing a line up and down the back of his cock, following the vein.
Kenny pressed back hard against the seatback, his hips pressed forward against my hand, his eyes closed and his breath gasping.
“Can’t wait…!” he gasped and then he released himself and I felt his spunk gush forth, over the edge of my hand, running down my fingers and lubricating them as I wanked him faster again.
Kenny let out little gasps of “Uh! Uh!” as his cock spasmed and he shot his cream out in huge bursts. I could feel the warm cum resting on the top of his pants where he’d shot first. His cock quivered and jerked in my hand, so hot and hard, slippery with the cum he was still shooting out.
He gasped and gasped as his cock spasmed again and again. It felt as if there were gallons of his hot white spunk shooting from the huge end of his cock. It went on and on, and I couldn’t believe how much cum he was spurting.
The feel of his cock, the warm stickiness of his cum, the obvious ecstasy he was in as he shot spunk everywhere inside his clothes, the feel of those damp, warm, pants full of piss that were now receiving yet another soaking with Kenny’s precious and special hot cream, made me hard and I felt my own cock straining for release now inside my own pants.
Slowly the spurts from Kenny’s rod subsided and I relished the wet, warm feel of his cock, and my hand sharing the sticky spunk that had soaked the outside of his pants and the inside of his tracksuit.
Kenny slowly relaxed back into his seat and opened his eyes. I gently wiped my hand over his pants, spreading his cum over as much of them as I could. Then I twisted my wrist and wiped the inside front of his tracksuit, leaving the last traces of his wet cream there and drying most of my hand at the same time. His cock twitched as I brushed against it and he grabbed my hand through his clothes to stop me. His hands were trembling, and his legs, almost his whole body was quivering.
“Desi,” Kenny said softly and firmly, “I will never, never, be able to have an orgasm like that again. I just know it.”
“You were full,” I agreed quietly. “You shot out a hell of a lot of spunk.”
My fingertips found a pool of cum lying on his pants and I scooped up as much as I could. Sliding my hand from his clothes I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked the cum from them.
“As tasty as always,” I commented. I took his right hand and placed it over my cock.
“Feeling your cum and hot cock has made me horny,” I murmured.
“Then you deserve the same pleasure,” Kenny whispered back.
He undid my tracksuit cord and slipped his right hand inside the waistband. His gentle fingers probed into my pants and withdrew my hard cock, just as I had done with him. He began to stroke me, his cool fingers running up and down my length, teasing round the tip, his thumb brushing across the opening where, I knew, there would very soon be my own jet of cum shooting forth.
But then Kenny reached across with his left hand and pulled down the waist of the tracksuit, forcing it down towards my thighs. My hard cock was now completely free of my clothes and standing straight up in the air. If anyone had looked round the screen at that moment they would have seen exactly what was going on – my rod standing straight up and ready to cum, and Kenny’s hand grasping it and stroking my cock up and down. Kenny squirmed down sideways to bend over my lap and, unbelievably, opened his mouth to take my rod inside. He began to suck me hard and I felt my cock straining upwards to push between his soft lips. His fingers and thumb continued to stroke me at the base of my rod as his tongue and lips licked and sucked as if he wanted to pull my cock off my body.
My eyes were glued to the restaurant as I watched through the screen in case anyone was approaching us.
Then, incredibly, Kenny used his left hand to wave across the gaps in the screen. Our waiter, hovering near another table of diners, caught the movement and gave a slight nod.
“What the hell are you doing!” I whispered urgently.
I knew I was close, and the last thing I wanted was anyone near us, yet Kenny had just signalled the waiter to come to our booth.
I saw him leave the other table and start towards us. Kenny gave a huge suck on my cock and flicked his tongue across my helmet. I felt the quiver in my balls and knew I was going to cum in a few seconds.
Kenny straightened up and gave my rod a couple of last massive strokes. I felt the cum start its journey from my balls, just as the waiter reached our booth. Kenny very quickly released my cock and pulled my tracksuit back up.
He’d managed to time it perfectly.
The waiter appeared in the entrance to the booth just as my first spasm shot my cum out, all over my pants and inside the tracksuit. My cock twitched and jerked as my hot spunk splashed over me. I felt it landing on my pants, trickling down to my thighs and running towards my balls.
“Are you ready for dessert?” the waiter enquired.
It was incredibly erotic to have the waiter standing a few feet away as my rod released its load of hot cream. I was trying not to gasp with each spasm. Whether the waiter noticed my cock jerking and twitching beneath my clothes I had no idea, but I couldn’t stop it if I’d wanted to, and the knowledge that I was shooting cum with someone standing nearby added to the exhilaration of my orgasm.
“Yes please,” Kenny replied with a smile.
The waiter vanished from the entrance and Kenny immediately grabbed my cock through my clothes and stroked me again. This produced several more gushes of hot cum, and my cock, thighs and balls now felt sopping wet with my warm cream.
I leaned back and finally opened my mouth to gasp for breath.
“That was incredibly risky!” I gasped in a whisper.
“But very enjoyable!” Kenny grinned. He slid his hand inside my tracksuit again and massaged my cum over the front of my pants and onto my cock and thighs.
“You obviously enjoyed it!” He withdrew his hand and licked some cum from it.
“A starter before dessert,” he said and chuckled.
The waiter was returning with the dessert trolley. I selected profiteroles and Kenny opted for a mango flan. When they were served and we were alone again, Kenny selected two slices of mango with his fingertips. Before I knew it, or could say a word, he had inserted his hand into my clothes and gently squashed the mango over my cock.
“I’ll save those for later,” he said, and giggled.
Not to be outdone, I smeared some chocolate sauce on my fingers and wiped that over his cock in turn. As I slid my hand into his clothes, I caught that heady aroma that I loved so much, coming from his wet pants. Warm cum, piss, Kenny’s own special smell, his pheremones, they all combined to make me want more of him, but I knew I would have to recover for a while.
As if to cement the bond that this handsome, sexy and virile young man had with me, Kenny murmured “I can smell you. It’s gorgeous! Want to wank you again and fuck you!”
“Not now, and definitely not here!” I answered firmly.
Somehow we managed to turn our thoughts away from enjoying each others’ bodies and finished our desserts.
“That,” Kenny said as he spooned up the last of his flan, “was certainly something we haven’t done before and definitely a big surprise. Are we going to do it again, sometime?”
“Don’t know,” I answered him. “Not sure if we could get away with it again.”
He nodded. “It was fantastic!” he said. “Unbelievable evening. And the food was excellent, too.”
I agreed with him, but thought privately that it was probably much too dangerous to try having sex in the restaurant again. It would have to be this one, because of the layout of the booths and screens which gave the necessary privacy. I’d enjoyed it, and he was right, the whole episode had been unbelievably erotic and sexually satisfying, but if we ever were going to repeat it, there would have to be several months wait before we tried it again.
The waiter re-appeared and offered us coffee and we both chose an Irish coffee with whisky. We dawdled over them and just sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Finally, however, it was time to leave. I could still feel the wetness of all my cum inside my tracksuit, and no doubt Kenny could feel his too. As we stood and exited the booth I glanced down, and sure enough there was a large dark patch on the front of my tracksuit, wet from my gushes of spunk. I glanced at Kenny’s and his were the same. I paid the bill, putting cash on the small tray the waiter had placed on the table and leaving a handsome tip, not only because the meal and service had been excellent, but I thought if he had noticed anything, the tip might help to keep his mouth shut.
We strolled slowly towards home in the faint evening light, with occasional pools of illumination from the few streetlights that were already glowing, crossing the pedestrian precinct and window-shopping again, this time on the opposite side of the square. Glancing ahead, I noticed a bundle of rags lying in a shop doorway. Except, as we got closer, it wasn’t just a bundle of rags;- it was somebody lying there.
“Look,” I said to Kenny. “Somebody you knew?”
I’d said it jokingly, but Kenny took me seriously.
“It could be,” he said slowly. “Should we take a look?”
“If you want to,” I said dubiously. I didn’t really want Kenny to renew any of his old homeless, druggie, rentboy acquaintances.
We approached the shop and I could see that it was indeed a figure lying, curled up in a foetal position on the cold stone entrance to the shop. His head was tucked into his chest, presumably in an effort to keep warmer. It was noticeably cooler, not to say chilly, in the evenings now, and this figure was wearing what looked like some sort of old military greatcoat, tattered, torn and stained. The figure appeared to be asleep. He wasn’t dead because I could see his chest moving as he breathed.
“It’s a homeless vagrant,” I said to Kenny. “Leave him. Let’s go.”
But Kenny had bent down closer to the figure.
“He looks familiar,” Kenny murmured. “Sure I’ve seen this coat before somewhere.”
He used a foot to gently prod the sleeping figure, who stirred and muttered something in his sleep.
Kenny prodded him with his foot again, a little harder. The figure jerked awake, half rolled onto his back and looked fuzzily up at us.
“Whass marrer?” he mumbled.
He reeked of alcohol, and I could see the top of a bottle protruding from one of the greatcoat’s pockets.
” ‘Oooo you?” the figure mumbled again. He struggled to sit more upright and the bottle slipped from his pocket and slid onto the ground. He tilted his head up to look at us and licked at his lips;- and I immediately realised who it was.
Jed.
Jed the rentboy, who had led Kenny’s mum to us, caused her –and Kenny– a tremendous amount of unnecessary grief and who had ripped off his mum to the tune of fifty quid into the bargain.
I heard Kenny’s sharp intake of breath beside me.
Jed’s pupils were so dilated they were almost totally black, and he screwed his eyes up as he tried to focus on us. The stench of booze and vomit coming from him was indescribable.
“Whass a’marrer?” he repeated drunkenly. He was so far gone, and so stoned out of his gourd he could hardly put two words together.
“Fuck off!” he slurred. Spittle dripped from his mouth. “Tryin’ a sleep here.”
His eyes narrowed suddenly and he seemed to pull himself together a bit.
“Oh, I ge’ it! You wanna buy? Is tha’ it? Wha’ ‘ooo want? I got good stuff!”
He fumbled around his coat, patting it absently. As he touched one pocket I distinctly saw the outline of something in the pocket.
This was Jed, who, according to Kenny, always carried a gun.
Suddenly reminded that he had one, Jed grinned drunkenly at us.
“Not that,” he mumbled. “Thass mine! Might need that!” He grinned again, showing his black, broken teeth.
The brief period of concentration lapsed, and he continued to fumble at his coat, mumbling and muttering incoherently as he did so.
“We don’t want anything from you,” I said coldly.
“No, ‘onestly,” Jed pleaded, either not hearing my words or ignoring them. “Got really good stash here somewhere…” He trailed off and his hand, delving into an inside pocket, withdrew what looked like a brown leather wallet.
“No, ‘s not it,” he muttered. He dropped the wallet onto the ground and his hand flopped onto his stomach as he relapsed into his drunken and drug-fuelled stupor. On his wrist was a watch, and bending down myself to have a closer look, I could see it was a Patek Philippe, worth tens of thousands of pounds.
Using my handkerchief, I carefully flipped open the wallet. It was bulging with notes. Inside the cover was a driving licence with a photograph, and I could just make out a name, – Manzi.
Jed had evidently rolled a recent trick, relieving Mr Manzi of his wallet and probably his watch. A favourite habit of some rentboys, Kenny had told me, although he’d sworn to me that he’d never done it himself. He had remained silent up to this point, but now I heard him exclaim quietly.
“Christ!” he murmured. “I can’t believe it! Look at him! What has he become? God!”
I looked at him and he was as white as a sheet, staring down at Jed.
“Dear God!” he said hollowly. “I could have ended up like that!”
He looked at me, and I saw a tear roll from one eye down his cheek. “I knew I owed you a lot, Des, but Christ! I never realised just how much!” He continued to stare at the figure in the doorway.
I straightened up and glanced round the square. There were a few other people about, but none near us, and probably not near enough to realise there was a figure on the ground. I am an honest man. I don’t commit crimes of any sort, at least not deliberately. But what I was contemplating now was certainly not legal. I looked at Kenny, who sensed my gaze on him. He wiped at his cheek and looked at me again.
“Should we do something? Call an ambulance?” He pulled his phone from his pocket, but I put my hand on his arm.
“If we do, it won’t be from that phone,” I said decisively.
I glanced round again. And made a decision.
Reaching down, again using my handkerchief, – I didn’t want there to be any chance of leaving a fingerprint – I carefully extracted three fifty pound notes from Mr Manzi’s wallet. I left the wallet where it had fallen and pocketed the notes.
“Let’s go,” I told Kenny.
He looked at me blankly. “We’re just going to leave him?” he asked disbelievingly.
“No, we’re not,” I said. “Come on.”
We left Jed lying in his semi-conscious state and crossed the pedestrian square to some phone booths. There, I dialled the emergency services, told them there was a figure in a doorway and where to find it, and suggested they send the police and an ambulance. I hung up without giving any details of myself and we hurried to the edge of the square nearest home.
“Wait,” I said to Kenny, and we paused in the shadows of a building at the corner of the square and waited.
It was only a few minutes before a police car, its blues rotating furiously, appeared at the emergency entrance to the precinct and drew to a halt in front of the shop. It obscured our view of Jed, but I’d seen enough, anyway.
“Time to go,” I said. I heard the sound of an ambulance siren approaching as we hurried away into the gloom of the evening and headed home.
* * * * * *
Several more weeks passed. The date of Kenny’s theory test came and he passed with flying colours. A 99% pass because he’d made only one mistake. The date of his practical test loomed in a week’s time. Summer had become Autumn. Chillier evenings. Our time together was as good, as fresh, and our sex as exhilarating, as it had been at the start. We’d been together now for a few months. Kenny had asked what I thought would happen to Jed, when we’d reached home that evening, – the whole outing slightly marred by the discovery of the rentboy in the doorway, but the sexual highs and outstanding orgasms we’d both had in the restaurant a subject for remembrance and light-hearted discussion for days afterwards.
I’d told him that I’d considered what to do about Jed, and decided to recoup the fifty pounds he taken from Kenny’s mum, with interest, and call the emergency services.
“With that gun in his pocket, Mr Manzi’s wallet and presumably his watch too, he will have a hard time explaining things,” I’d told Kenny. “And if he was carrying any drugs on his person, especially any hard stuff, I suspect Jed will be going away for quite a time. And if he was seriously ill from the booze and drugs, the ambulance would have taken him to hospital first, giving the police time to find Mr Manzi and make their enquiries. If Mr Manzi complained there was money missing from the wallet, they would assume Jed had spent it on booze or drugs. All things considered, it seemed the best thing to do,” I finished, and Kenny had nodded thoughtfully.
And then it was time for me suck chocolate sauce from his pants and cock, and for Kenny to suck mango juice from mine.
Kenny’s driving test was on a Friday at 11 o’clock, and he’d invited his mum to come and visit us for a couple of days. She had declined a previous invitation – too soon, I suspected – but this time she said she’d be pleased to visit and arranged to arrive on the Friday at about 2 o’clock. This meant that Kenny could meet her at the station and they would have all afternoon together to talk, shop or do whatever. Their private time, and I begrudged them not one second of it. We were going to eat out on both the Friday and Saturday evenings, – Mrs Noble was returning home on the Sunday – and I deliberately stayed a bit late at work to give them as much time as possible together without me. Kenny would be finished with his test just before noon, and although my plans wouldn’t change whether he passed or failed I couldn’t help feeling a little wound up as the hour approached. Five minutes before twelve, my phone rang.
“YES!” came the excited shout down the phone and I was sure other people in the office must have heard it.
I listened to his excited recounting of the test, and told him to enjoy the afternoon with his mum. He rang off, thanking me effusively for the lessons and my constant care for him.
I was delighted for him, both passing the test and having some time with his mum, and, I reflected as I hurried out into the town centre on an important errand, there was no doubt in my mind that I had come to love Kenny as much as any heterosexual male loving a female partner.
We had a table reserved for 8 o’clock, but I didn’t arrive home till seven, giving me just enough time to shower and change before we went out. Mrs Noble seemed very happy to be with Kenny and genuinely pleased to see me again. They hadn’t done any shopping, they were saving that for the Saturday, but they had spent an enjoyable Friday afternoon partly in town and partly at home. We set off for the restaurant, not the one with the screens, that was going to be a strict secret for me and Kenny alone, but to another that we used from time to time.
Shown to our table, Kenny and his mum paused as they saw the champagne in its ice bucket waiting beside the table. Kenny eyed me suspiciously.
“You’ve done it again, haven’t you?” he queried. “Quietly set up a surprise behind my back?”
“If it was in front of your back, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Mrs Noble observed with a smile.
“Good point,” Kenny acknowledged.
The champagne was duly opened and served and his mum and I toasted his success on his driving test and wished him safe and happy motoring in the future. We sipped at the drinks for a while and chatted amiably. Mrs Noble seemed quite relaxed in my presence, something for which I was extremely grateful, given her initial outburst on seeing me for the first time months ago. Dinner orders were placed, the champagne bottle gradually emptied, and starters served.
“What are you grinning about?” Kenny asked me suddenly.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, and managed to wink at Mrs Noble without Kenny seeing.
“Hmmmph!” was his only rejoinder.
He knows me so well, I thought affectionately. It’s becoming harder to surprise him without him realising it in advance.
Seeing the champagne bottle upside down in the ice bucket, the wine waiter came to ask if we’d like another drink before our main course. We ordered, whisky for me, vodka for Kenny and a sherry for his mum, and these duly arrived and were dispatched without delay.
The time had come, I thought with pleasurable anticipation, for the fruits of my hurried errand earlier in the day to become apparent. The waiter brought my meal, and Kenny’s mum’s. We politely waited for him to return with Kenny’s meal before we started our own. He arrived bearing a silver salver on top of which was a domed silver cover.
“Oh, you’re getting the special treatment,” Mrs Noble remarked. “That’s nice.”
The waiter placed the salver in front of Kenny and whisked off the cover;- to reveal a fat, white envelope lying on the salver. Nothing else. No dinner.
Kenny looked at it, then me, then his mum.
“What is this?” he enquired. “A joke? No!” His eyes narrowed as he looked at me again. “It’s you, isn’t it Desi? What have you done this time?”
Mrs Noble leaned towards her son and gestured at the envelope.
“If you don’t want to eat it,” she suggested in a whisper, “why don’t you open it? It has your name on it.”
Sure enough, the words Kenneth Noble Esquire were handwritten in calligraphy across the envelope.
“Alright. What is it, mum? You tell me, ’cause I know Desi won’t.”
Mrs Noble threw up her hands.
“Kenny, I promise you I have no idea what it is,” she averred. “I really don’t. Whatever it is, it’s a surprise for me as much as you.”
Not true, although she wasn’t aware of the exact contents.
Kenny looked at the envelope, then at me again. He shook his head slowly.
“One day, Des, I am going to surprise you, the way you constantly arrange these surprises for me!”
Gingerly, as if it might bite him, he picked up the envelope. It wasn’t sealed, the flap was just tucked inside, and he flicked it open and withdrew the contents. He stared at them for a moment then let them fall onto the salver and leaned back in his chair.
“You’re joking!” he murmured.
I had signalled our waiter who, following my earlier instructions, was hovering close by, and he nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, returning in a few moments with Kenny’s proper dinner. Kenny picked up the papers and envelope as the waiter removed the salver and placed the meal on the table in its place.
“We should eat,” I suggested, “before your mum’s, and my, dinners get cold.”
Kenny nodded, but he made no move to pick up his knife and fork, he was sifting through the contents of the envelope, a glazed look in his eyes.
“Any chance we can share the secret?” his mum enquired between mouthfuls of pork medallions.
“Have a look,” Kenny offered and gave her the papers.
Mrs Noble took only seconds to peruse the papers and turned to me with a smile.
“Airline ticket, hotel reservation…that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “A week’s holiday in Amsterdam starting on Monday! Kenny, you’ll love it, I’m sure! Derek, that’s so nice of you! This is a reward for passing his driving test, I assume?”
“Well,” I said. “Yes it is, now. If by chance he hadn’t passed, it would have been a sort of commiseration break. But, as it is, it’s going to be a celebration holiday, as you so rightly say.”
Kenny had started on his meal and he kept glancing at me.
“Desi, I don’t know what to say. How could I ever, possibly, thank you, not only for the driving lessons and now this holiday, but for everything you’ve done for me since I met you.”
“Kenny, as long as you’re happy,” I answered him, “as long as you’re content with your life here, with me, then that’s all the thanks I need. And I enjoy arranging these little surprises for you.”
“More than happy,” Kenny said softly. “Don’t know what word to use.”
Mrs Noble put her hand on my arm to stop me eating.
“I echo that sentiment, Derek,” she said quietly and earnestly. “I can see that you mean all the world to my son, and that he means all the world to you. To know that he’s in good hands and someone is looking after him, as you are, makes me very, very happy indeed.”
She released my arm, picked up her fork then paused and let out a chuckle.
“I’ve just made a pun, haven’t I?” she laughed. “I never thought I would be able to make a joke or a pun like that. But… ‘in good hands’ ?… given how the two of you are together…”
And Mrs Noble, the woman who had slapped me hard across the face as soon as she had set eyes on me, insulted me and spent hours crying about my association with her son, collapsed into a fit of the giggles.
After that, the evening flew by, gentle, relaxed, amusing, considerably alcoholic, and I knew that I would never have to worry about Mrs Noble’s attitude again.
At one point, Kenny excused himself to go to the men’s room. If there was a disadvantage to having his mum around, and it wasn’t really a disadvantage, just a pause in our everyday life, it was that we obviously had to be clean and showered. If we had been near her in our usual clothes the aromas wafting from us both would have put paid to any understanding from her. No, when she came to visit, Kenny and I and all our clothes had to be squeaky clean.
As soon as he left the table Mrs Noble turned to me.
Her eyes sparkled.
“He still doesn’t know, does he? He has no idea?”
I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t but he will know as soon as we come back from Amsterdam.”
“And this little holiday is the second of the three things you told me about when -” she paused for a brief moment, ” –when I was so unforgivably rude and insulting to you months ago.”
I laid my hand on hers.
“Past times, Mrs Noble, past times. Gone and forgotten. But yes, you’re right.”
“First the driving lessons and the test,” she recounted, ticking them off on her fingers, ” then a holiday abroad somewhere, and the third will be –“
“Exactly,” I interrupted her. I glanced around but Kenny was still out of sight. “Still secret for a week or two more. And in fact there will be a little extra something when we come back.”
I whispered what it was and she gazed at me, shaking her head gently.
Finally she relaxed in her chair. “You’ve done so very, very much for him,” she sighed. She stared at the table. “I realise that you probably saved him from – from – many nasty things,” she finished.
“Quite possibly,” I agreed softly. “And I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, and enjoyed seeing the delight in him when I’ve been able to do something nice.”
She nodded.
“By the way,” I added, “I have something for you.”
I reached into my pocket and withdrew three fifty pound notes. “You recall that you had to give that boy money to find out where Kenny was?”
She was already nodding again.
“Well, we bumped into him not so long ago,” (not entirely untrue) “- and -um- as luck would have it he was able to give it back with interest.” (Also not a complete lie).
I pressed the notes into her hand.
“Enjoy a bit of shopping or a matinee, or something, tomorrow,” I suggested. She regarded me doubtfully.
“I assure you, that isn’t from me,” I said. “That came from the same boy you paid.”
(Alright then. Half a lie).
Kenny’s mum nodded and slipped the money into her purse. “Thank you Derek. Kenny and I will find something to enjoy ourselves with tomorrow.”
I explained briefly how I’d rushed out at lunch time from the office, booked the trip to Amsterdam and set things up at the restaurant.
Mrs Noble smiled knowingly.
“And I’ll bet setting it all up gave you almost as much satisfaction as it gave Kenny to receive it,” she suggested.
I grinned and shrugged.
“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, and then our conversation had to stop as Kenny returned.
* * * * *
We arrived at Amsterdam’s Schipol airport at 12.15 on the Monday. Kenny was as excited as I had ever seen him. Although he had his own passport I knew that it had only been used for two high school trips, and by coach, at that. He’d seen Normandy and the Somme battlefields with his school, but he had never travelled by plane, anywhere.
Checking in, baggage handling, security and boarding the plane were completely new experiences for him and he revelled in them. His amazement intensified when we were met at Schipol by the Hotel Schiller’s courtesy car which whisked us to Rembrandtplein where the hotel was situated. The four star hotel was not far from Dam Square and Damrak, the very centre of the city. It was also not far from Amsterdam’s famous Red Light District. I’d booked a large suite, insisting on a double bed, with a balcony view over the canals below us.
When Kenny had spotted the double bed, he went a bit red in the face and looked at me.
“Desi, what on earth will the hotel think, you and me in one room with a double bed?”
“In this city, and particularly this area,” I said to him, “the hotel and its staff won’t bat an eye!”
Kenny stayed for some time on the balcony just watching the people strolling about, the glass covered canal tour boats cruising slowly along, and the outside cafes and bistros that abound there.
I, in the meantime, had unpacked our case and, apart from our personal, special clothes, had put things away in cupboards and drawers. The personal stuff stayed locked in the suitcase.
It had been a bit of a job deciding what we could bring and what should be left behind. There was always the danger of a customs spot check, even in the green channel at either airport, and regretfully, apart from our usual, very favourite open fly pants, carefully wrapped inside other clothes, we left our other used clothes at home. But there were still silk and satin pants, and a miniskirt each, and we’d brought our cum filled tracksuit bottoms as well. There was a noticeable stain on the front of each, where our huge eruptions of cum had dried into the cotton, not to mention chocolate and mango. I strolled onto the balcony and put my hand on his beautifully rounded ass cheeks, firm beneath the jeans he had travelled in.
“Are we going to do a boat tour?” he asked eagerly.
“We’re going to do everything we can,” I assured him, “but right now, there’s something else I want to do.
He turned to me and smiled shyly.
“Are we going to suck and fuck?” he asked.
Tempting as it was to undo his jeans and let them drop here, on the balcony, I gently pulled him into the room and he sank back onto the bed. I pulled off his shoes and unzipped his jeans, feeling the bulge of his cock inside them. Slowly I pulled them down and he kicked free of them. He was wearing stretch hipster satin pants, and the outline of his cock was clear beneath them, curled against his belly. I leant over him and kissed it, running my tongue over the fabric and over his thighs, savouring the warm flesh beneath my tongue and enjoying the smell of his warm skin. His cock had started to harden and so I licked it some more until it was completely erect, the tip of his helmet just emerging from the top of the stretchy material. I licked that and felt it strain against my tongue. I took it into my mouth and began to suck him, enjoying, as I had so many times before, the taste of his hot rod in my mouth. My hand cupped his balls and he pushed upwards off the bed, filling my mouth with that hard, hot gorgeous length of cock.
He made little murmurs of pleasure as I sucked at him, massaging his balls gently. My finger probed inside the edge of the pants and I found his crease, running my fingertip up and down it until I stopped at his rosebud and massaged that. Gently I inserted one finger into his jewel and teased round the inside of his hole, sliding my finger in slowly until it was fully inside him. He gave little gasps of pleasure as my fingertip probed round inside him.
“Love it!” he exclaimed softly.
I slid my finger in and out slowly, fucking him with it and feeling his heat and the quantity of his inside moisture on me. It excited me and I tried inserting a second finger inside him as well. He wriggled and gasped again how nice it was, and I continued to fuck his tight little hole with both fingers for a while. Eventually my excitement was too much to ignore.
I rolled him over to lie on his stomach. His firm round cheeks were before me and I leant down and kissed and licked at them, making the fabric wet. My tongue pushed at his crease and teased at him. I pushed my tongue harder and the tip went into his rosebud, carrying the stretch fabric with it. I continued to lick and rim him for some minutes as he began to breathe faster. Slowly I pulled his pants down until his firm round cheeks were fully revealed. I nuzzled them for a while and then started to rim him again, without the fabric in the way.
He lifted his hips from the bed and pushed backwards and upwards onto my tongue. My own cock was now hard, and I wanted him, badly. Quickly I threw off my own jeans and eased my stiff cock from the top of my pants. I was wearing very loose Y-fronts and my rod came free quickly, as if anxious to be free of them and to plunge into something else.
I pulled at Kenny’s hips so he was kneeling and then pressed the tip of my cock to his cheeks. But what I really wanted was pure lust and I wasted no more time but stroked my helmet along his crease once or twice, finally stopping at his wet rosebud and pushing gently at it. Kenny knew the signal, and he pushed his muscles out, opening his hole so that my cock could slide in easily. I slid into him, gasping myself as I felt his young muscles gripping my cock. Kenny gasped too, and I began to pound at him, sliding my rod in and out of him as hard as I could.
“Desi! Desi! Fuck me! Yes, Fuck me hard!” he murmured as I thrust into him again and again.
I could feel the onset of my orgasm.
“I love fucking you!” I whispered in a gasp. “I love your tight, round cheeks, I love your soft rosebud, gripping my cock, and I love filling. You. With. My. Cum…!”
As I spoke I felt that all important quiver in my balls and my first gush of spunk shot from my cock and into Kenny’s beautiful young ass.
He felt it, and gasped “Yes!” as the hot cream began to fill him to the brim. I’d wanted really hard, strong sex, and there were enough spasms to ensure that his hole would be completely full. I felt the heat of my cum sliding along my cock as I thrust at him for the final few times. As the last spurt left my tip I paused, undecided what I wanted to do. When I slid from his hot, wet, tight ass hole either I would pull up the satin pants and let him expel my cum into the back of them so that I could lick and suck and drink it, or I would roll him over on top of me so that he could expel it over my pants and belly. In the end I decided that I wanted to be close to his lovely ass some more, so I pulled up the fabric and told him to roll onto his back to expel.
He lay looking up at me.
“I do love to feel you in my ass” he said softly. “I do love to feel your cock sliding in and out of me and when your hot spunk hits me inside…I just love all of it.” He reached up a hand and stroked my face. “I just love you, Desi,” he whispered.
I gently rolled him over to his stomach again. The back of his pants were wet from my cum, expelled from his rosebud and awaiting my attention. I leant down and licked at his crease area, sucking at the fabric and taking my own cum into my mouth. Taking the last few drops and leaving just a damp patch on the back of his pants, I lay on my back and looked across at him.
“Your pleasure now, my lovely little Kenny. And I love you too. What do you want to do? Fuck my ass?”
Kenny gazed at me. “No, I want to fuck your mouth,” he murmured. “Keep my cum in your mouth and then I want you to spit it out into my ass crease again, and suck it and drink it like you did just now.”
He straddled over me and I shifted up the bed a little so my head was resting on the headboard.
He pulled his pants down to his thighs and brought his cock near to my face. He had gone slightly soft, and I took him into my mouth and began to lick and suck at him, my hand cupping his balls and one finger tracing between his balls and his rosebud, still wet and slippery from the remains of my own spunk. He grew immensely hard and began to thrust into my mouth urgently. I could feel his huge, engorged, purple helmet as it slid along my tongue and against my cheeks.
“Want to fuck you!” he murmured, his eyes closed in rapture. “Love to fuck your mouth! Love to feel your lips sliding on my shaft, making me hard, making me cum!”
And with that he shot his first spurt of cream into the back of my mouth.
“Makes me cum! Makes me cum!” he gasped softly with each thrust and each gush of his gloriously hot, sticky, tasty spunk. I felt the twitches in his rod die away as he finished. Slowly he withdrew it and the last tiny drop of cum glistened on the end of his cock. I licked it off, without losing what I had in my mouth, rolled him over and pulled down those satin pants again. Putting my face close to his crease I allowed his cum to drain from my mouth into his crease. As it began to run down towards his thighs I used my tongue to lap it up, this time swallowing as I did. My tongue tip slid past his rosebud and collected a huge pool of white cream. I gulped it down, savouring the taste and texture of this amazing young man’s sex. Finally, there was no more, and we just lay beside each other on the bed, holding each other’s soft cock.
“What are we going to do while we’re here?” Kenny asked sometime later.
“Everything,” I said. “Visit the Rijksmuseum, Anne Frank’s House, take a canal boat, take a horse drawn carriage ride –“
“Museums?” Kenny queried with a slightly doubtful look.
“I think,” I said carefully, “that we need to go to a few places your mum will expect us to go. She’s bound to ask you what we did and what we saw, and I think you should have some – um, –er,– intellectual answers for her, rather than just tell her we fucked the asses off each other all week.”
Kenny laughed. “Point taken!” he said.
I reached over and kissed his soft cock and thighs. And that made him start to get hard again, and him becoming hard made me hard, and so we had to start all over again as I wanked him until his shaft erupted cum all over his belly, and he sucked me and stroked me until I had filled his mouth with cum which he then allowed to drain into my pants.
And we did, indeed, do pretty much everything during that week. We went to admire the art in the Rijksmuseum, (just to say we’d been) although neither of us had any interest in art as such; we took the tour of Anne Frank’s House, (just to say we’d been) and visited the Oude Kerk, the oldest church in Amsterdam, (just to say we’d been). We also took a tour of the Heineken Brewery (because we wanted to) and took trips out to a cheese factory and a clog-makers, (because we wanted to) both just outside the city in the countryside, and where we picked up some cheeses and some clog souvenirs to take home, me for some of the office staff and Kenny for his mum. We mooched around Dam Square and Damrak, and window-shopped and bought more souvenirs in the alleyways behind the shops which run parallel with Damrak, and where the most interesting and intriguing shops are located. We sampled Dutch pancakes and Dutch waffles and enjoyed delicious freshly brewed coffee everywhere and the occasional Amstel beer.
We also visited a fishing village on the coast, Volendam, where the girls wear traditional Dutch costumes every day, – presumably for the tourists, although there weren’t many about at this time of year – and where we learned how a diamond-cutter cuts and polishes a gem, and enjoyed a freshly caught seafood lunch in the open air.
But in the day time between excursions, and in the evenings in the privacy of our suite, we just enjoyed sex, sex, and more sex. We never tired of each other, and we never failed to produce the most exhilarating and satisfying climaxes in each other. Not wishing to leave too many tell-tale traces in the bed, some of our adventures took place in the large bathroom, which contained a bath and a separate shower, as well as a double handbasin and a bidet. We didn’t use the bidet after Kenny had tried it for the first time and announced that if anything wet was going to squirt into his ass, it had to be my hot cum and not plain water.
We fucked and sucked, stroked and wanked, rubbed and probed, and kissed every inch of each other’s bodies. The slightly skinny young man who had stopped me in the street those months ago was developing into a strapping young man with soft skin but with muscles underneath, with a gorgeous cock which had seemed to grow longer and thicker as he matured. I loved touching him and holding him and couldn’t get enough physical contact with him. Sometimes I was surprised at the strength of my own libido. And as Kenny was the instigator of our sexual romps just as often as I was, I was sure he felt the same way.
On one occasion I had a yearning for some golden piss, and I made Kenny tell me when he needed to pee, then pulled him into the bathroom and made him stand there with a pair of my pants on, and let his full bladder flow into them. His golden shower ran into the pants and soaked them, ran down his legs and pooled on the tiled floor. I put the warm, wet pants on myself and wore them all day and, as they had dried, all night too. And later I licked his legs from his ankles up to his cock, savouring the heady taste of his piss mixed with his own erotic taste.
On another occasion he was wearing a pair of very soft, baggy, silk briefs. It was the day we’d been to the cheese and clog factories and I think he wanted to do something special for me. He pulled me into the bathroom, sat on the toilet in his silk pants and pulled my hand between his legs and round to his ass. He said nothing, just smiled and kissed my arm in front of him, and I gradually felt those soft silk pants filling from his ass, bulging larger and larger at the back as he emptied himself into them. I loved it, it had been a long time since I’d experienced that, and I gently squashed the silk up against him, massaging the contents over his ass and balls and in between his cheeks into his crease. It didn’t make him totally hard, just a little, but it made me very hard indeed, and Kenny could see it in front of his face. So he pulled down my pants and sucked me until he sensed I was about to cum, and then aimed my cock at his own pants so I shot my spunk everywhere over the front of them.
“I have to say,” he admitted later, “I was surprised. I hadn’t done that before, but there is something incredibly erotic about knowing you are doing that into your pants, and feeling them fill and bulge with all that warmth over your balls and ass. I enjoyed it.”
“Try doing it standing up,” I suggested.
“I will,” Kenny promised, “when we get home.”
Afterwards, he emptied his pants as much as possible, but I told him to wrap them in something and we would take them home as they were. When they were completely dry, I knew the sight of them with the remains of his special gift, the smell of them, together with piss and cum, would be enough to almost make me cum in my pants without so much as touching my cock.
But the highlight of the week, I felt sure, would be the walk through Amsterdam’s Red Light District. There are actually three separate areas famous for their hookers and sex shops, but the area near our hotel, the Walletjes area, is the most famous and the most visited by tourists.
Looking or buying!
We had an early dinner one evening and I told Kenny we were going somewhere special. Our walk took us through China Town, and through the narrow alleys and canalside roads, such as
Little Venice, Kloveniersburgwal, Trompettersteeg Alley, and then Oudezijds Achterburgwal and Regulierdwarsstraat, these last two where the gay fraternity enjoy their own clubs, hookers and shops.
Kenny was open-mouthed at the prostitutes in their windows, and although none of the girls were of any interest to us, both of us could appreciate a good-looking female body when we saw one. We tried a few bars and constantly fobbed off the hawkers with their free entry cards for the hardcore clubs. I asked Kenny if he wanted to go in and see a live show.
“Live what?” was his response.
“Men and women fucking.”
Kenny gave me a neutral look. “We can go in if you want,” he said.
“Not if you’re not interested in heterosexual fucking,” I told him.
So we gave the live action clubs a miss, but tried one or two sex shops. The DVDs and magazines didn’t interest either, – we didn’t need those to get ourselves in the mood! – but we did pause over the displays of sex toys.
“Want to try one?” I asked.
Kenny regarded a ridiculously long, excessively fat, double ended dildo.
“I would not like to have that in me!” he stated. “How could anyone take that? It would do some serious damage!” He examined the display.
“On the other hand,” he mused, “I wouldn’t mind having something in my ass while I sucked you or fucked you. That might be nice.”
“You do realise,” I cautioned him, “that if we get a spot check at customs we shall be in trouble. They’ll confiscate our purchases at the very least, and possibly arrest us for importing pornographic items.”
Kenny looked a bit worried.
“I’ll take them in my hand luggage,” I said. With the used and special clothes that both of us had with us, with the piss, the cum, and now the silk pants with Kenny’s special gift inside them, we didn’t need sex toys to be in trouble. Although nothing of those items were actually illegal, it would lead to some very embarassing questions if we were stopped.
So we bought a couple of nice looking latex cocks;- feeling soft but hard enough to insert where ever wanted. One was slightly on the thin side with a nice latex foreskin that rode up and down, and another, thicker one which we agreed was about the size of my cock. With a slight pang of regret, I had to admit to myself that Kenny’s gorgeous shaft was now bigger than mine when he was ramrod hard, as he so often was.
We strolled along amongst the crowds, and there were quite a lot of people around, despite the lateness of the season. Ahead of us we saw an argument between a big black guy and a smaller, Japanese man. The big guy was trying to wrest the Jap’s camera away from him.
“What’s going on?” Kenny wondered. “A mugging?”
“He probably took a photograph of a girl in a window. That’s strictly forbidden, even though prostitution is completely legal here. And strictly enforced. The big guy is probably her pimp.”
We turned down a side alley and continued. Every building, every shop and every floor was given over to sex. Hookers, clubs, bars, sex shops, theatres, movie houses, live action shows, nothing, but nothing in this area existed except to show, promote and sell sex.
Strangely, it isn’t dangerous, as long as you obey the rules, like no photos of the hookers, and as long as you don’t buy anything from the street vendors. They accosted us, trying to sell anything from “private girls” to drugs, from used cars to bicycles.
We called in at another bar and sat awhile, just watching and listening to other English speaking tourists as they marvelled and commented on this bustling, lively, neon-lit area.
Kenny had marvelled himself;- at the number of bicycles. There were thousands of them, being ridden, leaning on posts or shop fronts, or lying half buried in the canals. Everyone not strolling round the Red Light District seemed to be riding a bike. But it made sense, of course. A lot of the roads beside the canals would permit only one vehicle’s width, so rather than make a lot of unnecessary and confusing one-way systems, the authorities left nearly all of them two-way, and the Amsterdammers used bikes to get around and over the bridges.
Kenny and I finally found ourselves in the gay area. It seemed odd to see young men in the windows and not women, but we felt quite comfortable and tried a bar for one last drink before heading back to the hotel. No sooner had we sat down on stools at the bar than Kenny was surrounded by suitors. They hovered around him like bees round a honeypot, attracted by his physique, his young looking face, his smiling eyes. And no doubt any sign they could see of the shape of his beautiful cock beneath his clothes. They plied him with drinks, which I wasn’t worried about as the alcohol was most likely considerably watered-down, they touched him, stroked his arms, pleaded and cajoled, trying to get him to either go with them right now, or meet them later. Some of them were obviously hard, and others rubbed themselves as they propositioned him. But Kenny was scrupulously polite in his rejections of them all.
No thank you, not just now. No thank you, my tastes run to someone a little younger – this to the older, butch men with their leather outfits, studs and rings – no thank you, I have a partner already, yes, I am sure you’re very good at sex but I’ve just had some and I’m fine for now, yes I’m sure you’re as big as you say but I’m not in the mood just now.
Eventually, the word must have spread, and he was left alone.
“Phew!” he commented, taking a large slug of his drink. “Thought they’d never go!”
“Didn’t you fancy any of them? The younger ones, I mean,” I couldn’t resist asking him.
He looked at me and saw the twinkle in my eyes.
“No, I did not!” he answered with some asperity. “I don’t need them, I don’t need their sex. I have you, I love you and I only want sex with you. What about you?” he added suspiciously.
“Well, there was that guy in the tights that showed what a nice cock he had –” I began, and Kenny punched me gently in the arm.
“Don’t believe you,” he said, and swallowed the last of his drink. “Not a lot of alcohol in that,” he commented.
Kenny, I thought, you’re learning.
“Let’s go, my own sweet Desi, I want sex with you. Lots of it.”
We returned to the hotel and changed from our publicly acceptable clothes into things that we both felt comfortable with in the privacy of our suite. We both fancied cross dressing for a change and I put on a black minidress and holdups, and Kenny wore a black micro skirt and the mini pants with the sewn-in fringe. We kissed and caressed each other for a while and then I ordered some drinks from room service. There was soon a knock at our door and a call of “room service” from the hallway outside.
Kenny grabbed my arm and whispered to me.
“Tell him to leave it outside the door,” he said.
I called instructions to do just that and we heard the waiter set the tray down. Giving him time to disappear, Kenny grinned at me.
“Want to do something risky and exciting again!” he murmured.
He padded to the door and listened carefully. I watched him, guessing what he was about to do. His strong, lithe body leaned against the door as he listened. He wore no top, and my gaze travelled from his broad back down to the waist of the micro skirt, and further. As he leaned, I could just see the bottom few inches of the white pants below the hem of the skirt, containing those firm round cheeks that I loved to nuzzle and kiss.
Carefully, Kenny eased the door open and peered into the hallway. Doing this made more of his pants and ass visible as the skirt rode up slightly. The sight made me so horny I felt like rushing to him and plunging my cock into him there and then. I gently stroked my cock, already hard from his earlier ministrations. Kenny looked both ways along the hall and then stepped out of the door, bending down with his back to me to pick up the tray with the bottle and glasses. This meant that the skirt rode up higher, and his lovely young ass was pointing straight at me, contained within his mini pants with several skid marks. The sight, and the thought of fucking him in his tight hole made my cock rigid with expectation.
Kenny straightened up, the wonderfully erotic sight of his pants and ass disappearing as the skirt dropped to its normal level. He stood for a moment in the hallway, looking left and right, topless and with the micro skirt and the lowest few inches of his pants visible for anyone to see. He turned and re-entered our suite, pushed the door shut with his elbow, grinning hugely.
“Nice!” he commented. “Enjoyed that, even though there was no-one there.”
He set the tray down on the coffee table and sat on the sofa. Again the micro skirt rode up, revealing the bulge in his pants where his cock, half erect, lay inside them, and the crotch of his pants where it vanished under his balls onto the sofa. He held his cock and smiled at me.
“Like it?”
“I love it,” I answered with a slightly hoarse voice. “Come here. I want that cock in my mouth.”
We moved to the bedroom and Kenny selected one of our newly purchased sex toys.
“Suck me and fuck me with this,” he implored.
He lay on the bed and I immediately dived on top of him, nuzzling and kissing that bulge inside his pants. He grew hard straight away, his breath coming faster as I kissed and sucked at him through the fabric. Then he rolled over to kneel, facing away from me. I lifted the hem of the skirt and kissed his round cheeks through his pants, then pulled down the waist and licked his crease, making it as wet as I could. Gently I probed at his crease and jewel with the tip of the latex cock, the one with the foreskin, easing the tip into him and out again, a little more each time. Kenny was breathing very hard now.
“In! In!” he murmured into the pillow. I pushed at him a little harder, felt his muscles push out to open his rosebud, and slid the cock right into him, the foreskin sliding back over its length as it slid further into his tight little ass.
“Aaaaahhhh!” he breathed. “Like it!”
He reached round and took the base of the cock in his hand, holding it in him as he rolled over onto his back and pulling up his pants to keep it in place.
“Now suck my hard rod with your hot mouth, Desi, and fuck me hard with that cock.”
I swivelled round until we were reversed, the classic 69 position, my cock poised over his face under my dress and my own mouth poised above the bulge in his pants.
He lifted his legs and held his ankles with his hands, holding his legs apart on each side of me. I could see the end of the cock buried in his ass, inside the back of his pants, ready and waiting for me to hold and slide in and out of him, and I could also se his own magnificant cock straining inside the front of the mini pants, his huge, engorged, dark helmet beginning to protrude from the waistband. Quickly I pulled it down and his cock sprang at me, silently asking to be sucked to a climax.
My hand slid slightly under his ass, taking the end of the cock through the mini pants and beginning to fuck him with it, as my mouth took in his hot shaft and I began to lick at his helmet and suck at him.
“Oh! Oh! Yes!” he gasped.
He reached up and took hold of my own cock, hard and ready, and free beneath my own little dress. He had got me so ready for him and so anxious to have him that I came as soon as he touched me, my cock jerking as I shot my cum over his hand, into the dress and over his face and chest.
Kenny also came very quickly as I stroked the cock in his ass, quite hard, and sucked his cum from him. He pushed upwards at me, off the bed, and his cock filled my mouth, his hot cum spurting into me as I gulped it down as fast as I could.
Gradually his gushes subsided but I continued to lick and suck him gently until he stopped me, too sensitive to take any more. I inserted my fingers into the elastic leg of his pants and withdrew the latex cock, bringing it to my mouth and sucking that too, tasting him on it and feeling the warmth of it from being inside his ass.
Finally, we just looked at each other and I lay beside him.
“How was it?” I asked.
“Terrific!” was his answer. “It’s amazing to be fucked and sucked at the same time. Although the cock is nowhere near as good as your real one. But still nice sometimes, I think.”
I nodded and we lay for a while, cuddling each other until I went to the other room and got us both drinks.
But finally it was the end of the week. We had tried the other, larger cock, but I had to agree with my handsome little lover, the latex was fine for an occasional thrill, but no match for each other’s real, hot, hard, meat, and lacking the exquisite feeling of hot cum spurting into our asses. After one last massive wet and horny session in the morning, we packed our stuff and boarded the courtesy car for the trip to the airport.
“How many times have you been here before?” Kenny asked me suddenly.
“A couple,” I admitted. I watched him as he glanced at me and I saw the flash behind his eyes. He didn’t say anything more and I waited till we were at the airport drop-off and out of the car before I answered his unspoken question.
“Alone!” I said firmly. “Never with anyone. They were business trips and although I’ve walked round the Red Light District I’ve never sampled their wares, any of them. If I needed any sex I sorted myself out. Alone.”
Kenny said nothing but gave me a hug before he picked up his bag.
A little over two hours later we were back at home.
Fortunately, there was no customs spot check.
* * * * * ** *
I needed to make a quick phone call to confirm something without Kenny overhearing, so I sent him out to get some milk and groceries and made the call. Everything was in order and the papers had arrived and were completely correct. When Kenny returned we had a quick coffee and cigarette, unpacked our stuff, then I told him we needed to go out again.
Rather than walk I called for a taxi which duly arrived and took us to the edge of town. We pulled up beside the building and while I paid the fare Kenny looked around.
“What are we doing here?” he enquired, not unreasonably.
“Just come to collect something,” I said evasively.
“Collect something? Here? “
I led the way through the gates, across the forecourt and through the automatic sliding doors.
We were greeted by a tall man wearing a dark suit and with a beaming smile.
“Desi, what are we doing here?” Kenny whispered. “You haven’t! Tell me you haven’t!”
The man addressed me by name and said he would escort us outside.
We dutifully followed him, Kenny tugging at my sleeve and whispering questions all the while.
The man stopped at the side of the building, beside a small, bright orange Toyota saloon.
“The keys are in the ignition,” he said, “with the spare set in the glove box, as are the insurance documents for you and Mr Noble, sent to us, and all as per your instructions.”
He opened the driver’s door with a flourish and held out his hand.
“A pleasure to do business with you, sir, and I wish you both many hours of enjoyment and many trouble free miles of motoring in the car. If, by chance, you do have any problems with the vehicle, please call and ask for me. I’ll deal with any issues at once.”
We shook hands and he left us to return to his inner sanctum.
Kenny had fallen silent and now he just stared at me, then the car, then at me again, as if he couldn’t make up his mind which he wanted to look at.
“You bought a car!” he said in a faint voice. “You did, didn’t you? You bought a car!”
“Want to see what it’s like?” I suggested and got behind the wheel as Kenny ran round and let himself into the passenger side.
We drove home sedately, or rather, I drove and Kenny spent the entire journey pushing buttons, trying the radio, playing with the electric seats and generally discovering all there was to discover in the car.
“It’s not exactly new,” I said to him. “It’s this year’s model, but it was a demonstration car, and it only has 3000 miles on the clock. Air con, CD player, sunroof, its got pretty well everything.”
Kenny glanced at me as he continued to familiarise himself with everything the car had to offer.
“I’m speechless,” he said. “I really am completely gobsmacked. Wait till I tell mum.”
“Your mum knows.”
This stopped him in his tracks. “Mum knows? How could she know already?”
So I explained how I’d told her about the little extra after our holiday, when we’d been in the restaurant.
“So now both of you are keeping secrets from me!” he complained with a smile.
In fact, it wasn’t such a “little” extra. I had actually winced when I got the insurance quote. I’d registered and insured the car in my name, but added Kenny as a named driver. The insurance company’s terms were that Kenny would accrue his own no-claims bonus that way. My premium was quite cheap, being an experienced driver, but to add Kenny as a newly qualified driver cost an extortionate amount, apart from the cost of the car itself. It took some doing to find an insurance firm that would even accept him.
We arrived home and parked the car, Kenny seemingly reluctant to leave it and bemoaning the fact that he couldn’t drive it.
“You can,” I said. “You’re insured as well, and believe me I needed a very large whisky when I got the bill.”
His eyes lit up and he just stood there and glowed with pleasure.
“When, when?”
“Not now,” I answered. “You need to calm down a bit first. Maybe we’ll go for a spin tomorrow. I’d like to see how you handle it.”
Kenny almost danced his way into the flat. He was brimming over with glee, and jumped on his phone to tell his mum.
So now there was only one final part of my long-term plan for little Kenny. I sat and smoked with a coffee while he chatted to his mum, a little unsure of how to tell him, how he would take it, and whether, after all, it was such a good idea. But everything else had worked out pretty much as I’d hoped and planned, and I convinced myself that I was being a Doubting-Thomas for nothing, and there was no reason why this shouldn’t work as well. I knew I had to tell him this weekend, before I returned to work on Monday, and I decided to leave it until tomorrow after Kenny had had his Sunday drive, and more importantly, after we’d spent some time in bed together after that.
Kenny handled the car as if he’d been driving for years. I felt completely relaxed with him, and after the first half hour when I kept a careful watch in case he missed a sign or misread the road ahead, I knew that I could happily fall asleep while he was driving, which is the biggest compliment on his skill that any driver can receive. I had no qualms about letting him drive by himself. However, I thought that a cautionary word wouldn’t go amiss.
“You have to send off your pass slip to the insurance company,” I told him, “and then a copy of your full licence when you get it.”
He nodded, at ease with conversation while he was driving.
“Also,” I added, “you do know that the first six weeks are the most dangerous, don’t you?”
He nodded again.
“My instructor warned me,” he said. “Most new drivers have a smash or a scrape of some sort in the first six weeks. Don’t worry, Desi. I shall be very careful.”
“Well, even if you don’t have a scrape or a bang, don’t think after six weeks you’re home free!” I warned him. “You need to be as careful on the road in six or sixteen years as you are today!”
“Don’t worry,” he repeated. “I don’t want anything to happen to this lovely little motor!”
“And I don’t want anything to happen to you!” I said, and after that I let it rest.
We decided to stop and have a pub lunch which we both enjoyed. No alcohol for Kenny, but I had a large scotch. It was early afternoon when we returned home. I told Kenny he could keep the car keys as I had the spare set, and that he was free to use the car whenever he wanted.
His eyes were still alight with joy from the drive, and the fact that we now had a car at all.
“Desi,” he said, “I want to give you the best sex you’ve ever had!”
He took my hand and headed for our bedroom.
“Better than we had in the restaurant?” I chuckled.
“Ah! Well, that might be difficult,” he agreed, “but as good as, anyway.”
He led me to our bed and gently pushed me down onto it. Lying half on top of me, both of us fully clothed, he spent the next twenty minutes kissing me, my neck, face, chest, legs, everywhere. His hand gently rubbed against my cock and slowly I began to harden. Slowly, because his kisses weren’t just lust for sex, they were gentle, loving kisses, and they showed me above all else his feelings for me. His hand roved under my sweater and caressed my chest as he kissed me on my lips and his tongue forced them open, searching, exploring, licking at me. With his free hand he undid my jeans, unzipped them and started to ease them down. I helped by lifting myself off the bed until he could slide them off my ankles. He moved to lie fully on me, rubbing himself against me and I could feel his own cock, hard against mine through his jeans. He raised my sweater and I pulled it over my head and lay back again.
Once more he started to kiss me, on my neck and face, chest and arms, working his way slowly, caressingly down towards my cock. Now I was fully hard and he held my shaft through my pants, squeezing it gently but not stroking yet. His kisses moved ever downwards, over the cotton material and onto the flesh of my thighs, his tongue licking and flicking, leaving wonderful little trails of wetness as he roved around my body. As his tongue brushed against my skin I felt a tingle everywhere he touched, a tingle which lasted for several moments after his tongue had moved on.
Eventually he paused, stood up and quickly undressed himself down to his pants. Then he lay on me again and now I could feel his rod through just two layers of fabric as he rubbed himself against me once more.
“Desi,” he whispered, “you mean all the world to me, you know that, don’t you?”
Without waiting for a reply he kissed me hard agin, crushing his lips onto mine and again probing and lashing inside my mouth with his hot tongue.
His hand eased my rod from inside my pants and now he began the slowest and gentlest of strokes, his cool fingers sliding along my length, brushing across my smooth, shaven mound and then down to my balls, cupping them gently, fondling them and letting one finger press me between my balls and my rosebud.
He slid down my body, taking my cock into his mouth and using his tongue to lap around it, against my helmet and across the tip;- then plunging his mouth down, harder, to envelope me completely in his hot wetness. He continued with this for quite a while, keeping me rock hard in his mouth, but not exciting me enough to produce an orgasm.
Finally he left my cock straining upwards through my fly and straddled me, pulling the back of his own pants down enough so that he could rub his cheeks against my cock. His skin was hot and smooth, his firm cheeks rubbing against me until he settled his crease over me. He was kissing me again, and we stayed like that for a few minutes. Then he straightened up and looked down at me lovingly.
“I know you love this, Desi, so that means I love doing it.”
He closed his eyes, and after a few seconds I felt warmth and wetness, and when I looked down at his pants they were wet too, as he allowed his golden cascade to flow through his pants and onto mine, and my hard rod. It went on and on and I felt his piss run over my thighs and hips into the bed, over my cock and down my balls, running into my own crease and exhilarating me even more, my shaft desperate now to be sucked or wanked to make me cum.
Eventually his gorgeous warm flow stopped and he inched forward, rubbing the tip of my cock with his crease, pushing down a little and sliding me into his hot hole, lowering himself slowly until he was sitting on my cock and it was buried to the hilt in his hot ass. He began to rock back and forth, and I knew that it would be very soon that the spunk in my balls sought release.
His fly was just in front of me and I reached inside and withdrew his own rod, half erect. It was so smooth, so desirable, and I began to stroke him, feeling him grow fully hard in a few seconds. He strained towards me without stopping his rocking motions, his cock pointing at me as my fingers slid up and down its length. Inside his pants I could see his mound, beautifully smooth shaven, and I could feel the backs of my fingers brush against the skin of his hot, soft, smooth mound as I stroked him.
“Where do you want my cum?” he whispered.
“On my body,” I whispered back, and he nodded once.
I could smell his wonderful piss, and that, with the aroma of his hot body and his used pants spelt the end for me. My cock quivered and I tried to hold back as long as I could, but then my spunk gushed from my rod into his ass, spurting again and again as his wonderful foreplay and rocking movements brought me to a massive orgasm.
I gasped his name as my hard cock jerked inside him. Again I felt my cum lubricating my shaft as he rocked on me, and the wetness of it produced another huge gush of cum. I had paused in my stroking of his cock as I filled his ass with hot cream, but now I started again, faster and harder. I wanted to see his hard cock shoot his cum onto me and as his rod quivered benath my fingers I saw the first spurt of his spunk shoot from the tip and land, hot, thick, white and creamy on my chest. The second gush reached my neck and he leaned back a little as he sat on me, his eyes closed as I wanked him to his orgasm and he spurted again and again, soaking my chest and stomach with his gorgeous cum.
He sighed and lifted himself from me. Using one hand he scooped up as much of his cum as he could and reached round to smear it over his ass and into his crease. He pulled up the back of his pants and waited, kneeling over me, still with his eyes closed, as my cum ran from his hole and into his pants, mixing with his own spunk that he had just added there.
Finally, he rolled off me carefully and lay beside me.
I needed a few moments to regain some normal breathing, and when my heart had stopped thumping and I’d stopped gasping in pure ecstasy, I reached across him and rolled him onto his stomach.
“It’s a shame to waste all that cum,” I murmured.
I started giving him the same gentle, slow, soft kisses that he’d given me, but I started at his neck and slowly worked my way down his back, across his shoulder blades and down the line of his spine.
I couldn’t believe how it was that this gorgeous young body was mine to do with as I pleased, that it would do anything I asked, and that it had done for many months now. I thought I was so unbelievably, incredibly lucky, to have found a young man who enjoyed the same things I did and would do them for me, again and again without complaint, always striving to give me the most intense and satisfying sexual ecstasy that it was possible to experience.
I thought all this as I continued to plant my kisses on his back, nearing those wonderful wet pants of his. I licked at the waistband and continued further down onto his cheeks, nuzzling the soft, wet cotton. In keeping with the golden rule of our relationship, established right from day one, we never, never, washed any underwear, and as my tongue licked at the cotton and I sucked at the wet fabric, I could see that there were now several sizeable skidmarks on the back of his pants. The aroma from them, the fragrance of his piss in the material and the taste of it, and the knowledge that I was about to enjoy the taste of his cum and mine, mixed together, was just indescribable and I felt the first stirrings of a second erection, surprisingly soon after my last explosive climax.
My tongue probed at his crease through the cotton and now I could feel the creaminess of our cum, the warmth from it and the wonderful stickiness of it as I began to suck hard at his pants and skidmarks, taking in as much of our cum as I could, relishing the taste and texture in my mouth, the smell of his pants and his body beneath me. When I thought I’d sucked as much as I could I pulled down his waistband and licked at his firm, round cheeks, again probing into his crease and licking up the last remaining drops of my own cum that he’d expelled and the last few traces of his own that he’d carefully wiped there with his fingertips.
At last, unable to find any more of our cream, I pulled up his pants again. I was reluctant to leave that heady, exciting, smell and taste of our combined sex and his used pants, but finally I rolled away from him and lay on my back beside him.
He immediately moved into his favourite position, his head on my chest and one leg between mine, our soft cocks just touching each other.
“I can’t do much for you,” he whispered to me, tracing one finger across my chest. “Not anything like what you do for me, but I hope what I can do for you, is enough.”
I reached out to the bedside table without answering and selected a cigarette from the pack for each of us. I lit both, and passed one to him.
“What you do is beyond words,” I murmured.
* * * * * * *
We smoked in quiet companionship for a while. Several thoughts went round my head, and I wondered yet again if what I was about to do was the right thing or not. Would it cement our relationship even harder and intensify the bond between us, — or would our relationship gradually erode, become less intense and eventually fade into nothing but a strong friendship. I didn’t know, and it worried me a bit. More, lately, as the time for it had become closer. But this was the sort of moment I’d planned to broach the subject, and there was no point in delaying any longer.
“Kenny, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m here, Desi,” he replied simply.
I paused, getting my thoughts in order.
“Little Kenny, my wonderful young partner, my handsome sexy, strapping lover, how long have we been together now? Several months, yes?”
I felt his head nod against my chest.
“You know how much I like arranging little things for you,” I went on. “You know that I love the things we do, here and outside, our life together, you know that I appreciate, that I love, the way you look after me in your own way; – not just the sex, but looking after the flat, shopping, cleaning and all that. You know I like to think about you sometimes when I’m at work, thinking about you alone here all day with not much to do except the shopping, the cleaning and spending time on your laptop.”
“But we have the car now,” Kenny said.
“Yes, I know you can go out now by yourself, visit places, go for a drive. Yes I know that.”
I stubbed out my cigarette.
“But I think now, after all this time, Kenny, it’s time for a change.”
His finger stopped its tracing on my chest for a moment and then resumed.
“A change?” he repeated very quietly.
“Yes. Kenny, I knew exactly what I was doing, but I have to say to you that I have spent quite a lot of money on us in these last few months. I think perhaps the time has come for you to contribute a little something.”
The finger stopped its tracing again and Kenny pulled away from me and leant on one elbow, looking down at me.
“Don’t say it, please Desi! Don’t do this! Don’t!”
“Don’t say what?” I asked him, confused.
“Don’t pimp me!” Kenny said fiercely. “I don’t want to do that! Don’t make me!”
That was the last thing on my mind. In fact, the thought had never even crossed my mind at all. I was so surprised that I didn’t answer him straight away.
“No! No! No!” Kenny almost shouted at me. “That’s it, isn’t it? How could you even think that! Derek, no!”
I reached up and put my hand on his face. I could see anger, and disappointment, and disgust and hurt all mirrored in his eyes and it tore at my heart.
“No, no, no Kenny!” I said urgently. “No that isn’t it at all! Do you really think I would ask that of you?” I leaned on my own elbow to face him.
“Then what do you mean by a change?” Kenny cried.
“Look,” I said, “calm down, please. What I mean is, I love coming home from work and having you meet me, giving me a hug and a kiss as I step through the door, but — ”
“Oh, I get it!” he interrupted me.
He rolled off his elbow and lay flat on his back, away from me, staring up at the ceiling.
“What?” I groped for understanding at his sudden interruption and tried to follow his thoughts.
“I get it, alright!” Kenny repeated in a flat voice. “You don’t want to pimp me, no!”
“No, of course I don’t!” I said, bewildered.
“No, you want me out!” Kenny finished bitterly.
I flopped back onto the bed myself. To say I was staggered didn’t come anywhere near it. Thoughts chased themselves round my head in a frenzied kaleidoscope. I couldn’t begin to imagine how Kenny had jumped to these two conclusions. And then I realised that it was his love for me, his need to be close to me, physically and mentally, that had caused it. I thought about what I really meant by a change and realised, belatedly, that I’d handled this talk very badly indeed. To do without him? Not to be able to do those little things for him? Not to enjoy fantastic sex with him? The closeness, the heat, the smell, the taste of his hot young body, his cock, his sex? I couldn’t begin to think what my life would be without him. These thoughts whirled around my brain as I lay, shocked and horrified… and my continued silence, the fact that I hadn’t responded, had become a terrible answer for Kenny.
He got up from the bed and went to the door.
“When do you want me out?” he asked flatly.
“I don’t want you out,” I said quietly. “Kenny, this is the first time you’ve shown any immaturity since we met! Now come here!”
He stood, looking at me across the room and I could still see anguish and hurt in his eyes, even from where I was.
“Then what are you talking about?” he snapped. “I think you do! I think you’ve got fed up with me! Bored with me!”
Now his eyes burned with plain anger, but behind that was that awful shock and disappointment.
“No, I haven’t! Now come here or I’ll come and drag you here!” I roared at him.
We stared at each other for a few moments. Kenny was angry, and hurt, and I was angry now too. With myself for making such a balls-up of it all, and because I’d hurt him so much.
“Come here, little Kenny,” I repeated softly. “Come and lie beside me. I want you here. I do not want you out!”
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Kenny came back to the bed and sat on the edge of it, half facing away from me and staring at the door.
“Then explain what you’re talking about,” he said.
I reached for him and held one hand.
“I’m so sorry, Kenny,” I said softly. “You’ve got completely the wrong ideas and it’s my fault for not explaining things properly from the start.”
He turned to look at me and the fire in his eyes had vanished;- replaced by uncertainty and a flash of hope.
“Come and lie on me.”
He did so, taking up his favourite position again.
“This is exactly how it should be,” I said comfortingly. I stroked his cheek and neck and hair, his head resting across my chest, as always. “Now listen, and this time don’t interrupt and go off the deep end.”
I felt him give a little nod of agreement.
“What I meant by a change, is this. You know I work at a computer company as an IT specialist? I told you that when we first met.”
Kenny nodded again.
“Well, I didn’t actually tell you the complete truth.”
He moved his head round to look at me. The uncertainty in his eyes was stronger.
“You lied to me?”
“Mmmmm, no, not really. A half truth. Or if you want to think of it as a lie, then it was a good lie.”
And now, my wonderful, sexy young lover, the boy, no, the young man, who meant so much to me looked puzzled.
“Kenny, I don’t just work there. I own the company. It’s mine.”
He gazed at me without expression for several seconds as his brain processed what I’d said.
“You own it?”
I nodded. “That’s how I could always take time off if I wanted it. That’s how I could afford to spend the money that I have.”
I stroked his face, then lifted his shoulders and pulled him closer to my face so I could kiss him.
“Kenny, it’s time for you to have a job, and that job is going to be in my company, working with me.”
He stared at me without speaking, and then first one tear and then another welled up from his eyes and ran down his cheeks.
He buried his head in the pillow beside me and I could feel his body heave as he began to sob.
“Desi!” he mumbled into the pillow. “I’m sorry! How could I have doubted you? I was so worried –“
he sobbed a couple of times, ” –I was just so worried that I was going to lose you! Lose the special relationship we have! I thought you wanted me to make some money by having sex with others… and then I thought you didn’t want me at all any more! I am so sorry, my Desi! It’s me who should say that, not you. It’s my fault for not thinking properly. Not trusting you after all this time.”
“We’re together,” I told him. “We shall stay together and we don’t need anyone else for sex. And definitely not paid sex.”
He turned on his side and scrunched up against me.
“I love you, Desi!” he said fiercely. “I really do!”
“I know you do,” I murmured. “And you know I feel the same. Now don’t cry any more. We should talk about your new job.”
He wiped away the tears with one hand and looked at me, the young, trusting, affectionate look that I loved so much.
“There’s one, vital rule,” I said seriously. “As important and vital as the one about not washing our pants.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening, and I promise I’ll obey it, whatever it is.”
“At work,” I said gravely, “you are just a friend to whom I’ve given a job. Nothing more! There will be no physical interaction. No kisses, no hugs, nothing! Those will be for us at home, together. But never, never at work! Not even if you think nobody is around. Understand?”
“I do,” he said. “Do they know you’re gay, at work?”
“They suspect it, I think,” I answered him. “But I’m careful not to give any indication, either way. That’s why this rule is so important. I must continue to have the respect of the staff. And also,” I added, “regretful though it is, at work we have to be clean. Us and our clothes. All our special things are for evenings and weekends, but not at work unless they’re clean and out of sight. Okay?”
Kenny nodded.
“I understand,” he said. “What exactly will my job be?” His eyes, still moist from his tears, twinkled slightly, a sight which made me very happy. “And what, may I ask, will be my salary?”
“Oh, we’ll talk about that later,” I told him. “Right now, I want to love you and fuck you and suck you again, and drink your cum and feel your pee on me, and oh, everything else that we can possibly do.”
Kenny had started laughing and I felt a rush of love for him in my heart.
“And it’s an early night tonight!” I admonished him. “I mean early to sleep! Tomorrow, we both have to get up and go to work!”
THE END.
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