Being broke sucks, especially when you’re young and having to fend entirely for yourself. Throw in being Gay, good looking and well equipped in the mens department and your options start to narrow down rather rapidly. The problem of being kicked out of my family home for being a ‘fag’ was just the start. In those circumstances living in a small town really sucks. People I’d grown up with suddenly didn’t want to know me — so I used my savings to catch a train to as far away as I could.
Now I had to find a place to stay, and a job to pay for it, pronto. The first part was easy, I found a room in a boarding house called Pine Lodge run by an older guy. It was clean, it was fairly basic and I could afford a month’s rent up front. I paid it, and asked about jobs in the city.
“Hell, there’s not a lot going at the moment. The biggest employer in the area is laying people off, and several of the smaller ones are struggling.” The landlord eyed me over. “What qualifications you got?”
“I haven’t finished my course,” I told him, adding, “Bit of a family problem. I had to leave home and find a job, and there was nothing going where I lived.” I shrugged. “My plan was to qualify in programming, then come to the big smoke and find a job. Sort of got it backwards now.”
He nodded. “I can see that. Tell you what, I know a few people might know of something you could try. I’ll ask around. Meantime go and see the Exchange — you’ll be in the queue, but at least you’ll be in it!”
I did. He was right, there were people there looking for anything that would pay a wage. All of them more experienced and more qualified than a twenty-two year old with two thirds of a degree and only a burger bar counter hand job as ‘experience’. I put my name down, filled in the forms, and did some scouting around. Not even the local burger joints were hiring. It looked like I had fallen out of the frying pan straight into the fire.
It became my routine over the next two weeks to eat a bowl of muesli, then head for the exchange in the faint hope they had something. I picked up a few ‘casual’ jobs for individuals, like clearing rain gutters around a roof, mowing a few lawns, hell, even the car wash was overstaffed! The money from all these odd jobs just about covered my food, and that end of the month was looming …
“I might have something for you, Chris,” my landlord greeted me as I returned from another day of picking up pennies, this time washing windows for a couple of shopkeepers and then cleaning out a drain. We’d got to know each other fairly well by this time, and I’d earned a few pounds doing some cleaning for him. He’d managed to fish out of me my reasons for leaving home, and was sympathetic, but kept his own feelings very private.
“You have? Great.” It felt as if I’d had a load lifted off me.
“It won’t pay a lot, but at least it will be a steady income and a starting point.” He paused. “It’s up at the Art School. Go and see Rod Petersensson — he’s head of the School and he’ll explain what it involves.” He smiled. “It’ll cover your rent and a bit more, and there’s a chance to make some extra through special work and as it’s attached to the School that deals with the sort of programming you were studying, there might be a chance to pick up a course as a perk.”
“When should I go? Tomorrow?”
“Why not right now? I’ll phone and tell him to expect you.”
“I better get cleaned up first!” I needed a wash and a change of clothes. “I had a really dirty job today, cleaning drains.”
He grinned. “I thought so. Okay, get changed, I’ll ring Rod.”
Rod Petersensson turned out to be a well built man of Nordic descent. He held out a surprisingly delicate hand and smiled as I introduced myself. “Good to meet you. Georg said you needed a job and might be what I need here. You’ve studied programming? Graphics?”
“Yes.” I shrugged. “Didn’t get to finish the course though, but I’m hoping, if I can earn enough …”
He smiled. “We can probably arrange something, but first of all, did Georg explain the work?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He said it wouldn’t pay much, but might offer a chance to earn some extra — and that there might be a chance to study.”
He laughed. “Typical. Okay, here’s the deal. Most of it is to clean up the studios and make sure all the paint, oil, and other materials are available for the schedules I will give you. The ‘extra’ he mentioned is that we sometimes need a model for live drawing and painting. You’ll be paid for that by the hour over the top of the wage for the other work, and there’s a sliding scale, depending on the modelling required.” He paused. “You okay with modelling nude? That get’s the best rate.”
“Nude?” I swallowed. “Never tried, but …”
He laughed. “We’ll lead you into it gently. Want the job?”
“Yes!” I grinned to hide my nerves. “Yes. The nude bit … I better tell you that I’m Gay and a bit, generous …”
“So what? About the Gay bit, I mean.” He grinned. “We’re a bit more tolerant than your home town obviously! And the other bit may well be a very popular asset.” He paused. “Okay, you can start tomorrow. Bring your details, tax, ID, the usual, and your student reports and credits from your old course. I’ll have a word with my colleagues and see what credits we can give you, and if there’s a way to get you restarted.”
“I’ve got my CV here, with all that stuff.” I paused. “My student files well? Wow, thanks, that would be great if I can keep that going. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
I made sure I got to the college early, and reported to the secretary as instructed. She smiled, took all my papers and handed me a card. “See the Security Office — just down the corridor on the left — and get the security pass and ID you’ll need. Prof Petersensson should be here by the time you get back.”
I took the card and found the Security Office, and half an hour later was back at the desk my new Pass card dangling from its cord.
“That was quick.” She smiled. “The Prof is in his office. You know where it is. Head straight in, he’s expecting you.”
“Oh good, you’re back.” The professor walked out of his office as I turned. “We can get you started straight away then.” He saw the satchel in my hand with my papers. “Have you copied all the certificates, Maddy?” He nodded as she confirmed this. “Good. Leave the satchel in my office, Chris, and we can get you started.”
The studios were in a row with one whole wall glazed, all north facing “for the light. Don’t want full direct sunlight” the professor explained. Easels, pallets for mixing paint, and a variety of art materials littered each of these. Several had unfinished paintings on easels and in two students were busy. The professor explained that my duties were to see the floors were swept, any equipment returned to the drawers and cupboards they should be stored in and waste bins emptied. There didn’t seem to be that much to occupy me for a full day.
I said so.
“It’ll vary,” the prof replied. He smiled. “You can count on spending at least a couple of hours a week sitting for the art students, and I haven’t shown you the photographic art studios or the graphic animation section yet.”
“Oh.” I grinned. “I didn’t know photography or CGI was also ‘art’.”
He laughed. “You bet it is. Follow me and I’ll show you their studios.” He chuckled. “The tricky areas are the dark rooms. Film isn’t much used these days, but a lot of the really artwork photography is still done in that medium.”
He wasn’t wrong about how tricky keeping them in order was, but by the end of the month I had a sort of routine worked out, and knew when I could tackle which areas without disturbing anyone. I sat for several live drawing classes as well, just in my normal clothes, or, twice, in fancy costumes. And I got to sit in on some of the lectures in the adjoining school to pick up the threads of my own hoped for course. And I got my first paycheque. Okay, it wasn’t a lot, but it covered my rent and still left me, with the little bit I’d managed to out aside from the odd jobs of my first weeks, with enough to be able to eat regularly.
“Got a moment, Chris?” Prof Petersensson intercepted me as I emerged from putting away the cleaning equipment.
“Sure, Professor.” I smiled. I had to admit I found him attractive, and nice to work for. The students were great as well, most pleasant and very easy to work with, and they treated me as one of them which made it even easier. Several were working to support themselves and shared with me some of their stories as waiters, burger flippers or parking attendants. I got the impression I’d landed with my feet well and truly under a good table with my job.
“Can you model for a special group tonight?” He asked.
“Tonight? No problem, Prof.” I grinned. “I can put off my date with my room for a few hours.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up another time.” He paused. “This is a sitting for a society I run, and we’ll want you nude for it. Are you okay with that?”
“Nude?” I hesitated. “Okay, I guess I can live with that. I’ll try not to be embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” He smiled. “Don’t worry. This is an all male group, and most of them will probably find it stimulating.” Studying me for a moment, he added, “I told you, we’re a lot more open here than in your old home town.”
He wasn’t wrong. The group included all ages in the seven members, and after some gentle teasing and encouragement, they settled down to do their sketching, my initial ‘semi erection’ soon subsiding. The prof was right, my ‘generous’ assets were a popular subject. These sessions soon became a weekly feature, and with each passing session I became more comfortable.
It’s amazing how having an income and being self-sufficient improves your outlook and builds your confidence. It gave me the courage to accept an invitation from one of the students to accompany him to a ‘club’. It was loud, crowded and not at all my ‘scene’, a point he realised within a very short time even though I was doing my best to fit in.
“Come on, let’s get out of here and find somewhere we can hear each other.” Stuart yelled over the noise.
Gratefully I drained my drink — a cola — and followed him out. “Phew. Is it always like that?”
“Dunno,” he replied, grinning. “It’s not my sort of scene usually.” He grabbed my arm. “C’mon, there’s a nice place round the corner where we can get something to drink and not have watch no one adds something while we talk. You like folk music?”
“Love it, and classics, but folk is fine.” I grinned. “We didn’t have ‘clubs’ like that at home. I think my ears will be ringing for a week!”
He laughed. Opening the door to a place that looked like a cross between a bookshop and a coffee shop. “Here we go. I often come here just to unwind.”
“Hi, Stu,” the waitress greeted us. “Who’s your friend?”
“I’m Chris,” I replied, struck by her striking resemblance to Stuart. “I’m new around town, and work at the art school.”
She grinned, guiding us to a booth near the back of the room I now realised was actually a rather upmarket lounge bar. “I know. My partner said there was new guy doing the janitoring and modelling for the classes. Since I know my brother …” She laughed. “I sort of put two and two together. Welcome to the Cat — doesn’t really look like one, but, hey.”
I laughed, feeling my blush at the implication. Stuart managed to look innocent, and ordered drinks for us, and suggested we get two club sandwiches to go with them.
“You’re probably wondering,” he said. “Jen is my twin sister.”
“Oh.” I hesitated. “Look, just so we have this straight right from the start — I’m Gay. And a bit kinky. That’s why I had to leave home.”
“Okay.” He leaned across and planted a kiss on my cheek. “So am I.” He grinned at my surprise. “And I find you attractive, and enjoy your company. Oh, and sis is probably even kinkier than we are. We used to have a lot of fun swopping roles. I’d dress as her, and she’d dress as me — and we’d go to parties like that.”
Our drinks arrived with Jen, grinning from ear to ear. “Here you go.” She winked. “Don’t let Stu have his wicked way with you — unless you want him to.”
“Spoilsport!” Stuart grinned. “Bring us our sandwiches, wench!”
The exchange set the tone for the evening. Stuart was fun to be with, sensitive and not pushy or overtly flirting. Jen, as she preferred, kept stopping by to chat and tease us both and I found her amusing and fun. The evening passed in a lot of laughter and it was very reluctantly that I eventually made my excuses.
“I have to be up at five so I can get to the school and get the studios cleaned before you students get there.”
“I’ll run you home,” Stuart declared. “I know you haven’t got your own wheels,” he added as I started to protest. He grinned. “And I won’t attempt to seduce you either.”
That made me laugh. “Not attractive enough for you?”
Laughing he linked arms with me. “What do you think? Come on, I think we’ll have plenty of time to test that theory.”
As it happened, our relationship developed quite rapidly, but it was a while before we actually had the opportunity to take it beyond the occasional kiss, hug or simply touching. The Cat had become our haunt, and I learned that Jen managed it as it was owned by her mother and her partner, and they welcomed us warmly. It was a popular place, and, as I soon discovered, a sort of quiet place for Gay and Lesbian people to find a bit of discreet company among writers, artists and good company without actually being a ‘Gay’ or ‘Lesbian’ venue.
The main reason for our relationship being so platonic was that Stuart shared a flat with his sister, and my room in Georg’s boarding house was not exactly the ideal place for us to explore a more intimate relationship. It was, after all, little more than a rooming house for people needing basic accommodation for a short stay. Stuart was also ‘working’ on Friday and Saturday nights — he was rather reticent about this work, saying only that he was a waiter at an exclusive club — which meant the opportunities to get intimate, or to ‘club’ and party together at the weekend were non-existent.
My room at Pine Lodge was the cheapest and smallest in the house, and though I had my own toilet and shower, if you turned round fast you bounced off all four walls. I wanted to have my own place, but had to save up for that, and I also needed wheels. The regular money from my nude modelling was going toward the flat idea, not so much the deposits and the rent, as on being able to buy a few sticks of furniture for it.
Plus, I had been allowed to sign up as a ‘part time’ student to take Modules toward my own degree. That ate into some of my money as I had to invest in a laptop capable of handling the work I needed to do — and that study and course work ate into my leisure time.
“Jen wants to move out,” Stuart announced as he waited for me after a late class. “Can we go for a coffee at The Cat? I’d like to talk about an idea I have.”
“I’d love to.” Picking up my bag, I kissed him. Between my classes and modelling for the Professor’s private group and two photography students, we’d not seen each other for several days. “The last few days have been busy. Why does Jen want to move?”
He grinned. “She’s in love, and her girlfriend has a nice flat she doesn’t want to give up.”
“Really?” I’d figured out that Jen must be at least tending toward being a Lesbian. “Nice that she’s like us though.”
“Runs in the family. Long story. I’ll tell you some time.” He opened the door for me. “Anyway, I don’t want to live in the flat on my own, so I wondered …”
“You want me to share it with you? I’d love to, but it depends on how much my share would be.” I turned to face him as he slipped into the driver’s seat. “I don’t earn a lot from the college, but I do some extra work that pays a bit more and it might make it possible to cover …”
He started the car. “I reckon we can make some sort of deal.” He grinned. “The rent is not too heavy, and that’s not the problem.” He concentrated on the road for a bit. “I know you’ve said you’re a bit kinky — well, so am I, and if we’re going to make something like this work, there’s a few things we both need to be sure will work for us both.”
The Cat was quiet, and we found the section where our favourite booth was located empty. Jen arrived smiling as we sat down, coffee and two of their special burgers at the ready. “Hi, Chris. Saw you guys arrive and reckoned I’d save some time. Enjoy!”
“Thanks,” I managed.
“Stu talked to you yet?”
“I was just about to, Sis. Give a guy a chance.” Stuart gave her a ‘face’.
“You guys do go round the long way!” She winked at me. “Take Chris to the flat. Oh, and I’m staying at Lesley’s tonight — and probably from now on now you’re sorted.”
Stuart shrugged as she walked away. “Sorry about that. I don’t want to rush you …” He took my hand. “I’d like you to move in with me. To be my lover. We’ve known each other a while now …”
Returning the squeeze on my hand, I said, “I’d love that, Stu, but are you really sure?” I laughed. I could sense his desire and knew he could probably sense mine.
Jen was back and put our dessert in front of us. “So, Chris, he popped the question? When are you moving in?”
“Damn it, Sis! Don’t push him like that.” Stuart protested. She poked her tongue at him and walked away laughing.
Taking his hand, I squeezed, then leaned across and kissed his cheek. “Looks like she’s made the decision for us.”
“She is a bit like that.” He grimaced. “You want to think about this? I mean …”
“Don’t be daft.” I moved next to him, and slipped an arm around him. “Are you sure you really want to have a janitor living in your flat?”
His mouth found mine and for several minutes we kissed. “That answer your question? Fuck. Let’s eat and then head for the flat before I lose my nerve …”
The flat was bigger and nicer than I expected — and clearly way beyond anything I could afford even half the rent for. It was in a smart modern block and I said so.
Stuart grinned. “Who said anything about going half the rent with me?” He put his arms round me and held me close. “This place belongs to my Dad. We pay the utilities and the tax.”
“Won’t he have a problem with us ..? I mean with me …”
“Why? He’s also Gay, and our Mum is like Jen, lesbian.” His mouth found mine. “This isn’t small town bigotsville, you know.” His fingers were busy undoing my shirt.
I gave myself to my own desire, and soon we were naked, a trail of our clothes marking our path to his bedroom and the double bed there. Our bodies intertwined on the bed, our mouths met, and our erections made contact between us. Then, disaster. We both came, our overloaded cocks exploding, our spunk spreading across our naked bodies.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit …” Stuart was almost in tears. “I’m sorry … I so wanted this to be …”
I swallowed my own disappointment, and covered his face with kisses. “Don’t apologise …” I pulled him close. “We were both too eager. Relax, my love. Relax and we can take our time …” He was right. I really didn’t want this to turn into the sort of ‘quickie’ I used to be forced to give to one or two of my ‘friends’ at home — the kind of secretive fuck in a dusty storeroom, or the changing rooms at college, or giving some ‘jock’ a bit of head … I pressed my softening cock against his. “We both want something really special, so let’s make it that way …”
He wrapped his arms round me, then his legs over mine. “You’re right …” His mouth found mine and his tongue probed. Breaking the kiss he whispered, “You’ve no idea how long I’ve dreamed of our holding each other like this …”
“Mmmm,” I murmured. “Show me what you really like …”
He did, and slowly we worked ourselves back to readiness. Then we moved to a position from which we could give each other the most prolonged and enjoyable head. Then it was back to more petting and cuddling until we were ready for another dose of one another’s seed. It was after midnight when we finally fell asleep, still wrapped in each other’s arms and the taste of each other’s sperm on our lips.
The daylight woke me. I grabbed my watch. “Oh shit!” I gasped as Stuart stirred, trying to prevent me moving. I kissed him quickly. “Let me up, my darling. I’m going to be late for work!”
He wrapped his legs round my waist, his erection trapped between us as he held me tight. “No. You won’t be. I’ll drive you down to the college — after we’ve showered, I’ve had another dose of your cum and we’ve got an agreement.”
“Okay, okay, I give in. What’s the agreement you want?”
“That as of now, we’re a couple, and as of tonight, you live here.”
“Just like that?” I kissed him gently. “Look, you better know now. I got kicked out of home and chased out of the town because I love wearing rubber, and being restrained for sex.”
He chuckled. “I heard. Funny, so do I. One reason I keep myself hairless.” He cut off my question with a kiss. “And I want that agreement.”
“You’re also …?” I hesitated. “Okay, I give in, I’ll agree to being your partner.” I kissed him. “I wondered about the hair,” I grinned. “I’ll go hairless too then, but I really shouldn’t be late for work, and I need to settle up with Georg at the Pine Lodge before I can move in here.”
He chuckled. “Georg is easy. We’ll sort him out after classes.” He pressed his erection against me. “Now I want another dose of you. We can do it in the shower.”
I gave in. “Okay, come on then. I’ll have to borrow a towel and use your shampoo and stuff.”
“Already done.” He released me with a wide grin. “Get going, I’ll find some clean underwear for you. Someone left cum stains on yours …”
I’ve had my cock sucked in many unusual places, but having someone work it over while I showered was definitely a first and one to repeat at some time. Stuart’s underwear ran to thongs, but I pulled on the one he provided, and dressed quickly in a fresh teeshirt he’d put out, and then my jeans and shirt. At his insistence I snatched some fruit for breakfast while he dressed and then we were in the car and before I knew it, getting my cleaning stuff out only ten minutes adrift of my normal starting time.
Stuart occupied my thoughts as I cleaned, and certain other parts of me kept ‘remembering’ what it had felt like to have him enjoying them. The day went at a snails pace in one sense, although I was preoccupied wondering how to deal with Georg and my room at Pine Lodge. I almost forgot that I had an appointment to model for the Professor’s group, and had to intercept Stuart to tell him.
“Oh! Okay.” He got a wicked grin. “I’ll come round to collect you at ten. And to make sure none of your artists take advantage.” His kiss took me by surprise. “Oh, and I went to see Georg. He said to congratulate you and not to worry about giving notice.” His naughty grin was back. “I moved all your stuff to our place. Jen will clear hers at the weekend and then we’ll have the place completely to ourselves.”
The ‘class’ had opted for me to adopt a semi-reclining pose on a draped pile of cushions. It left my genitals fully on display, showing off the length of my cock and the size of my glans. Several of the men admired it, but, as promised by the Prof, no one touched the merchandise. The class overran a little, and Stuart was waiting in the shadows as the last member left.
“Stay right there,” he growled as the Prof exited. He produced a camera. “This I want to remember! Get back into position, lover. Fuck, you look so fucking gorgeous like that!”
I laughed. “And chilly.” He finished taking his photos and I stood. “Let me get dressed and then better get me back to the Pines.”
“Forget the Pines — we’re heading straight to the flat! I told you, everything’s arranged and I want to get you home so I can have my wicked way with that gorgeous bod!”
It felt strange, but at the same time wonderful, to wake up in the morning in my lover’s embrace. But getting out of bed and leaving his obvious arousal while I rushed around getting showered, dressed, and my stuff together for work and a class was harder.
“Don’t forget I’m working tonight,” he reminded me at the door. He kissed me gently. “I’ll wake you up if you’ve already turned in.” His mischievous grin and his erection told their own story.
“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t,” I retorted. It was a fifteen minute walk to the school and I was walking on air all the way. And, somehow, the world seemed lighter, the work almost did itself, and my assignment got a top grade. I walked home via the main shopping centre feeling on top of the world. The electronics store had just what I was looking for, and at a great price.
“We don’t sell many of these,” the counter clerk said, wrapping up my purchase. “This is a good brand though, and being cordless is a big plus.” He eyed my haircut. “Tricky if you plan to use it on yourself.”
“Thanks, no, I’ll stick with a barber for my head. This is for something else.”
He laughed. “I get you. Well, if that’s what floats your boat. Good luck.” He gave me the package and the receipt and I headed for the supermarket chemist, found what I needed and walked home almost treading on air.
Stuart was gone, but he’d left a note and some supper he’d prepared which just needed the microwave. The note included an invitation to help myself to anything I fancied to drink and ended with rest of the page, and the whole of the back, signed with crosses. Smiling from ear to ear I walked to the bedroom, unwrapped my purchases and then stripped.
The electric hair clippers did a brilliant job, reducing my ‘bush’ to stubble. Then I did the area along my perineum and round my opening. With that done, I lathered myself and then shaved the whole area. My legs were a little easier, the depilating cream worked a treat. Satisfied, I cleaned up thoroughly and applied the soothing cream to my crotch, then slipped on the thong Stu had insisted I wear, a loose top and pants and settled down to the luxury of an evening meal and television.
It was well past midnight when Stuart arrived home to find me dozing on the couch. I heard the door close, and smiled. “Home at last, love. Want something to drink before bed?”
“What a welcome sight,” he smiled. He looked tired, and he smelled of cooking and something else. “A shower and bed, I think — and a nice hug with my lover. Maybe a cocoa?”
“You got it,” I replied, giving him a hug and a kiss. “You look beat. This job of yours must be a tough one.”
“Not really, just bloody busy, and some customers just get a bit demanding.” He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t push him. “Let me hit the shower.”
“You do that, and I’ll make a cocoa for you.”
Ten minutes later he slid into bed next to me with a sigh, his hands reaching out to hold me. I responded, and held him close as we kissed. “You know,” he sighed as he put the cocoa mug down. “There is nothing like coming home to you, or like this — being held, and loved …”
“You’re right. And I’m still getting used to the feeling — and that I don’t have to rush off and hide having made love with someone so we don’t get into trouble.” Our mouths met in a long kiss. I could feel the tiredness in him, and his need to just enjoy the contact. For a long time we just lay there, then a gentle snore told me he was asleep. With a grin I turned out the light. Hell, it was Saturday, we could sleep as late as we liked.
We did. Though I was awake first, I simply lay back enjoying the feel of his body against mine, his arm across my stomach and his leg over mine. I could feel his sex against my buttock, and lay still revelling in the pleasure of the contact. After years of having to hide my sexuality, or endure taunts and rants about my ‘choices’, it felt wonderful to have someone hold me who understood what it meant to be different. Listening to his breathing, smelling his body, feeling the warmth and the soft touch of his skin against mine made the pleasure real.
It was far, far better than I had ever imagined.
His breathing changed, and he stirred gently, mumbling as he woke up. I felt his cock hardening, and his hand found my cock as his lips found my neck. “Mmmm, now this is the way I want to wake up in future.”
“Me too,” I sighed. Shifting position, I faced him and our mouths met in the first of several kisses. “Thank you for giving me this fabulous gift …”
Words became superfluous as we became engrossed in making love to each other. The result was even better than our first night together. This time because we felt no need to rush, and took time out to simply enjoy each other’s body. We’d have continued for a second round had not other needs decreed a pause.
We showered together, Stuart grinning from ear to ear as he took in my carefully shaved crotch. “I thought you felt a bit different. You shaved?”
“Of course.” I kissed him. “Like it?”
“You bet.” We hugged under the water, and kissed. “Thanks. I’ve had mine permanently removed, by laser treatment. Want to do that? We’ll have to let it grow back a bit first.”
“If you’d like that, then I’ll do it.”
His kiss was all the answer I needed.
Over the rim of my coffee mug, I asked, “You said this place belongs to your Dad. Where’s he live?”
Stuart laughed. “Flat below ours — with his partner.” He grinned. “You’ll meet them soon I should think, they’re architects.”
Putting my mug down carefully, I asked, “So both your parents are Gay?”
“Yes.” He put his mug down. “They went through the motions of getting married, being ‘normal’, but Mum isn’t, and never was, into having a man in her, and Dad …” He grinned. “Let’s just say girls do absolutely nothing for him. Jen and I are the result of artificial insemination. Our parents are our parents — Dad’s sperm and Mum’s ovaries — but, let’s just say the way they got together isn’t how conception usually occurs. We’re identical twins, which is great when we swop roles. Tricky now because I have to gain some bits and she has the opposite problem. It was easier when we were pre-teens and even as teenagers.”
“Wow,” was all I could think to say. I reached across the table and took his hand. “Sounds like you guys had an unusual home then.”
“Unusual? Yes! But, we sure had a hell of a lot of fun — and still do.” His laugh lit up his face. “I’m betting Dad will be hitting on you five minutes after you meet — the old letch. Jen has the same problem with Mum. Tell you what, we’ll have to organise a family get together so you can all meet and get to know each other.”
“I’ll look forward to it — but don’t expect me to introduce them to my family!” I changed the subject. “How late do you expect to be tonight?”
“About the same as last night.” He hesitated. “I do it because I don’t want to be completely dependent on an allowance. My folks think I’m nuts, but respect the fact I’m not depending on them for everything.” He smiled. “A bit different to your situation, but it doesn’t bother me and I hope it won’t bother you.” He took a swig of his coffee. “Don’t laugh, but I’m a waiter at ‘Cheeky Cheeks’.”
“Cheeky Cheeks? You mean …?” I stared. I’d heard the name mentioned. It was a franchise I’d heard of, punted as a male version of ‘Hooters’. Then I grinned. “Okay, that’s probably on a par with my nude modelling!”
He laughed. “At least you operate on a ‘look don’t touch’ contract. We’re supposed to as well, but you’d be surprised how creative patrons can be.” It was his turn to change the subject. “So. Your family can’t hack your being Gay? What did they do?”
I shrugged. “Threw me out, cut off my support for my course at the Uni I was studying at … It got a bit ugly. So I packed the stuff I really needed and could carry, drew every penny I had in my savings bank, and bought a train ticket. And here I am.”
“Shit, that’s bad. No brothers or sisters? No other relatives?”
“A brother. A big jerk. It was him that found out about my secret — followed me one day to a house I used to go to for ‘games’ with a couple of other guys into bondage and stuff. Somehow he acquired some pictures and gave them to my folks.” I paused remembering the shock of having the photos flung in my face, and the names my mother had called me. “As for other relatives … they’re even worse. Big churchgoers. The kind that are full of ‘thoughts and prayers’ and bugger all action — unless it benefits them.”
Moving round the table he slipped his arms over my shoulders and hugged me. “Shit. I’m sorry. You’re well out of that now.” Releasing me, he kissed my neck. “Come on, let’s get this place cleared up, and then I think lunch at the Cat and perhaps some grocery shopping for the week.”
I heard the front door, and walked to the kitchen to make him some cocoa. When I turned to greet him as he entered the kitchen, I stared, then grinned. “Oh wow. This your ‘work’ costume?”
He laughed, pirouetting so I could take in the shiny latex leggings with their strategically cut out panels framing his butt cheeks, the chest harness, and the soft ankle boots. “Like it?”
“Love it.” Walking forward I kissed him, my arousal starting to show. The memory from the previous night clicked — this was why I’d smelled latex on him. “No wonder you have trouble with customers taking advantage!”
He laughed. “Yeah. The franchise originally wanted to leave our butts completely open, but the law says your manhole has to be covered, so … we have this dividing strip. And a thong.”
“I can easily see why you have customers keen to get under the rubber.” My arms went round his waist and I pulled him close. “You’re stunning in this outfit!” Our mouths met in a long kiss in which our tongues got a bit tangled. “But then you’re stunning in any outfit,” I said, coming up for air. “And I love latex …”
Holding me close to himself, he grinned. “Then we’ll have to get you some.” Hugging me so that our groins were in close contact, he said, “Now, are we just going to stand here, or are you going to let me rip those pants off you so we can ravish each other properly?”
“Oh sir;” I protested, in a girly voice. “Do you intend to have your wicked way with my naked body?”
He laughed. “Yes!”
“Then what are we waiting for?” I demanded, lifting him and propelling us both toward the bedroom. “Ravish me, my latex lover! Ravish me.”
He laughed, striking a pose. “Oh, sir! And me an innocent young man …” He grabbed me and our embrace tumbled us onto the bed. Sitting astride me, he put his hands on my chest. “We’re definitely going to need some toys. Some latex for us both, and perhaps some other things …”
The sun woke us. Slipping out of bed, I headed for the bathroom. “I need some coffee. You too?”
His laugh followed me. “Yes, and maybe another dose of you?”
“Always available, lover.” I teased heading for the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
I heard him in the bathroom while I made the coffees, but he was back in bed when I brought them, a goofy expression on his face. When I slipped back into bed, he pulled me close, and planted a big kiss on my mouth, his leg sliding over mine. “About that fresh dose of you,” he whispered.
“Mmm, do I get some of you in return?”
He giggled. “Depends.” Hesitating he asked, “Will you fuck me? In my manhole? Please?”
“Of course, love. Is that what you want?” I moved in his arms so we were face to face, our mouths seeking each other and our erections meeting. “It’s something special …”
“I know,” he whispered. “I’ve never had anyone … and I want it to be you.”
Tenderly I kissed him. “Thank you, my love. How do you want me to take you?”
“Like a girl. I want to watch your face as you fuck me.” He smiled. “I do ballet with Jen sometimes, so I’m quite flexible.”
He was more than flexible. And he’d lubricated himself very carefully in preparation. He was tight. Very tight, so I took it slowly, and as gently as I could, but, once my cock head passed his muscles he relaxed a little and I sank my full length inside him, his knees hooked over my shoulders, his ankles locked across my back.
His cock jerked, spraying his spunk into his own face. “Oh! Oh fuck … Oh fuck,” he gasped. His hands gripped my shoulders. “That feels so fucking good …”
I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “It gets even better,” I whispered. “Are you ready?”
“Ready?” He shuddered. “No, I’ll never be ready …” He shuddered again as I moved gently. “Is it always this intense?”
I moved gently, beginning a gentle thrust, and grinned. “Depends. Want to see?”
He gasped. “How?”
“Grip me with your muscle as I fuck and you’ll see …” I increased my thrusts and felt him trying to tighten his sphincter.
Between us his cock was hardening again as he thrust against me, his moans increasing as I increased the tempo until I could hold back no longer. I pushed myself fully inside him and my cock erupted. His legs locked around my head and he arched his back, his cock spurting another load of his cum. “Ooooooh, f-u-u-u-u-uck.”
For several minutes I couldn’t move, his grip was solid, then he slowly relaxed, his legs opening and sliding down my sides. My cock started to slip free, but he immediately tightened his muscles as I lowered myself onto his torso, my mouth seeking his.
For a while we held one another and kissed, then, my cock now free of his opening, I moved to his side, and carefully licked all his spunk from his face and then his chest. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Thank me?” He shivered. “Thank me? For sending me into heaven?” His kiss was demanding. “Thank you!” He shivered, his arms pulling me closer. “I’m going to need another dose of that I think — to make sure it wasn’t a dream!”
I chuckled. “Coffee first.” I kissed him. “I need time to reload …”
He got his wish. This time we both lasted a little longer, and, if anything, it was even better. In the shower together I said, “Next time we swop places.”
He grinned. “You’ll have to make me!” Our mouths met under the running water. “Damn, I think I’m higher than a kite! I wish I’d known how good having you …”
My kiss stopped him. “It’s a two-way street, love.” I grinned as he turned the water off and wrapped himself around me. “Fair’s, fair.”
“True.” His arms pinned mine to my sides as he hugged. “We’ll just have to go with the mood and the need, I guess.”
A lazy breakfast was followed by a late lunch created by us both, and throughout we talked, shared experiences, funny stories, disappointments, hopes and dreams. We were just considering our evening options when the phone rang.
Stuart answered, and, after a short exchange, turned to me grinning. “Dad wants to meet you. He says Greg, his partner, knows you from art classes.” He winked. “We’re summoned to wine and supper downstairs … as we are.”
I laughed. I was wearing a thong, loose sweat pants and a teeshirt. “If you say so.”
“Okay, Dad. We’re on our way.” He put the phone down, grinning. “The old letcher! I should put you into a chastity belt. I’m going to put on some jeans and a shirt first.”
“I’ll do the same,” I said, chasing him to the bedroom. “And some shoes.” I kissed him as I shucked out of the sweats. “Promise you’ll save me from their advances if I need rescuing?”
I recognised Greg as soon as I walked through the door.
He smiled. “My favourite model, and now you’re ‘family’ I can give you a proper welcome.” His arms wrapped me in a hug and he planted a kiss on my cheek. “I did warn Stu I was going to greet you properly.”
I laughed and returned the hug. “Thanks.” Stuart’s father moved forward, smiling. He was attractive, his face handsome, and the resemblance to Stuart striking. I extended my hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Bugger that,” he said, embracing me in a warm hug. “I’m Brian.” His kiss was a bit more than paternal, but not erotic. “Welcome to the family. Stuart has talked about nothing else but you for months.” He grinned. “I can see why.”
“Hey!” Stuart teased. “He’s taken!”
“Damn,” said Greg, grinning from ear to ear. “I told you Stuart wouldn’t share him, Brian!”
“No way!” Exclaimed Stuart. “He’s all mine you pair of letchers.”
Brian laughed as I blushed. “Come on. A glass of wine while we get to know each other?”
It set the tone for the evening as we enjoyed joking conversation, a fantastic supper and some really good wine. Stuart and I finally made our way back to our flat, and tumbled into bed too tired to do much more than a little petting before sleep claimed us.
After that introduction, Brian and Greg became regular visitors, always teasing and always fun. My role as a model for the evening classes became much more relaxed and certainly the nude modelling became much easier, and dare I say it, enjoyable. Stuart obviously enjoyed his job at Cheeky Cheeks as well, and our sex when he got home was always fabulous. Best of all, I completed my course and achieved a good pass.
“What do you want to do now, my love,” Stuart asked over the breakfast table. Our celebration of my being awarded my degree had included a great dinner out, a show, a drink in the theatre bar, and then home to some fabulous sex. “You’re qualified now and could earn a lot more.”
“I know.” Sipping my coffee I paused. “I’d like to do some job hunting and get something working in graphic design, but I think I need to get some idea of what’s available as well.”
“Good idea.” Stuart watched me eat. “You could always take on more modelling, but the janitoring work will dry up during the long vacation.” His grin widened. “Of course you could join me at Cheeky Cheeks. I could get you in. They need a few more people now some of the guys have graduated and are moving on.”
“It may come to that,” I said, grinning. “You’re right, the Janitoring will end in two weeks, when the faculty shuts down for some rebuilding.n So Cheeky Cheeks could be …” The phone ringing cut me off.
Stuart answered it. “Brian? Yes, I’ll put him on …” He handed me the phone. “It’s Brian. He wants to offer you a job, my love. I guess we won’t have to persuade the Cheeks to take you on after all.”
Ten minutes later, I put the phone down feeling stunned. I had a job. A dream job. And a salary that meant I’d not only be able to live comfortably independently, but could support Stuart, provided we weren’t extravagant. I told him.
“I knew they were planning to make you an offer, love,” he said. “But I was sworn to secrecy.” He grinned nervously. “It won’t change our arrangement though. Unless you want to …”
Walking round to where he stood, I put my arms round him. “I don’t want to. What I want right now, is for you to take me to the bedroom, restrain me, and make love to me.” I kissed him. “If you don’t, I think I might just float out of a window and get blown away.” Hugging him, I added, “I think this must be a dream. Take me to the bedroom and show me I’m not dreaming …”
Returning the hug, he sighed. “I was afraid you’d want to change our relationship. You know, move out, get your own place …”
“And lose you?” I stared at him, seeing the relief in his eyes, and smiled. “No my love. My ‘place’ is here, with you.” Our mouths met in a long kiss. “Now let’s celebrate …”