Just to remind you - David was 19 and he lived with his younger sister, a smothering mother and a rather overbearing beginner in the apartment upstairs. He was about 5'8 ”, slightly built and his eyes, as I recall, were greyish-blue. He was a studious eccentric, bright and articulate and he always had neat, gelled hair - except on the juncture when his mates dumped him, drunk, on my doorstep that night ! But that's the in the beginning chronicle. This is a few month later.

In the meantime, David and I had become champion. After I gave him refuge on the nighttime of his birthday, he eventually wheedled out of me what had happened and that seemed to pay him the courage to start confiding in me. First, if he passed through the car park when I was cleaning the car, he would hang around, just making conversation. Then he began dropping-in on me in the apartment whenever he could - often late in the eventide on his way domicile from a dark out. It was all quite Platonic and ‘ proper'and I gave him coffee and we talked about all sorting of stuff. I effectively became a kind of unofficial counsellor for him.

One of the good things that seemed to have come from these chats was his increasing confidence and independence from his overbearing parents. After his birthday, when he was out all Nox for the first sentence in his life ( his parents never knew that he spent the Night zonked-out out on my bed, thank good ! ) they questioned him less and less about his comings and loss and seemed to give him more freedom to be the young man that he was. And a gorgeous young man he was too ! Every time he came around, I couldn't stop from remembering my having to pull up his trousers off his drunk and sleeping consistence ; and his lovely tight black underpants ( with the white trimness and piping ! ) - and all the residual. But I digress……..

I suppose he must take in known that I had grown quite fond of him but I couldn't quite figure-out why he liked expenditure so a great deal time with me until I got him onto the national of sex one night. My suspicions proved right. He knew that I was gay right from the offset ; so did his parents, because I had been fairly open about my erstwhile partner, now long gone, but it was only now that Jacques Louis David admitted that he was gay too. Actually, the words he used were,"I think I might be gay."Yeah, well ! The trouble was he wasn't sure because, although he had never had any interest in girls, his only ‘ relationship'was with this other lad, Gavin, who sounded to me moderately messed-up and who was driving Saint David up the wall !

David was besotted with Gavin though. Gavin was ‘ Mr Wonderful ’, in every obedience. He had been his best friend at school and they had spent a lot of time together, in class, at each other's homes, in each former's room's, etc. They had"messed around ”, as David so coyly put it, but had not"done anything serious ”. The reason for that was not because of any reluctance on St. David's part but because Gavin wasn't sure. According to David, Gavin wasn't sure about himself ; he wasn't sure what he was and he wasn't sure what he wanted ; in fact, although I had never met Gavin, from what Jacques Louis David told me about him, there didn't seem to me to be a totally lot Gavin was sure about ! He wasn't doing David any good, that's for sure, but like a trade good advocate, I didn't say this to David. But I did encourage Jacques Louis David to hold open questioning what he was doing and whether it was getting him anywhere.

Eventually, David resolved to have it out ( so to talk ) with Gavin, once and for all, and to tell him that he had to make up his idea if he wanted to continue his relationship with St. David. If so, it was going to ingest to demand"doing sex properly ”, as Saint David so quaintly put it. David rang me on his mobile earlier in the evening to say he was going over to see Gavin ( again ) and that he expected tonight to be the dénouement and"can I come circle later to tell you how it went ? ”.
"Of course,"I said.
By 11.30, I figured they were probably"doing sex properly ”, to use Jacques Louis David's words, so I went to bed. The buzzer rang about 11.45 and I threw on my dressing-gown and answered the threshold to receive David standing there, looking forlorn and with blood-shot centre. I suspected he'd been crying.
At this point, I should remark that we had not been particularly tactile in our friendship up to now. Once the G-word had been discussed, David had taken to hugging me affectionately when I answered my strawman door to him but that was as far as it had gone. So I was a petty taken by surprisal when, as soon as the room access was closed, he threw his arms around me and split into tears !

"I've lost him !"he sobbed into my dressing-gown,"He's gone for full now ! What am I going to do ?"

Now, I don't wearable pajama to bed and I'm ashamed to say that I already had a erection under my dressing-gown and I was dire that he shouldn't find out, so I managed to pull him away from me and I steered him into the bedroom, as the rest of the apartment was in iniquity and the heating was off. I sat him on the bed, gave him a box of tissues and let him calm down enough to start telling me what had happened. fountainhead yes, I knew what had happened but that's what you do, don't you, at times like this !

After he calmed down a bit and the tears began to dry up, I made coffee and we sat on the bed for nearly an hour, with poor David telling ( for the umpteenth time ) every detail his life-story with Gavin, interrupted with bust of tears and sobbing and More tissue paper, until, when he had just about exhausted his supply of tears, he said,

"Can I stick around with you tonight ? I can't go home now and risk waking Mum & Dad. If they see me like this, what would I say ?"

What could I say ? After all that had passed between us and after what happened that night on his natal day, I couldn't turn him out now. I suppose, what I should own done is let him slumber on the couch but I somehow knew that he needed the physical consolation of a ally beside him tonight, not just a cold couch to doss-down on for the Nox. So I slipped discreetly back under the top of the bed and just said,"OK ”, patting the top of the continental quilt beside me.

I pretended not to face as he shyly turned his back to me, taking his shirt and trouser off and laying them over the chair. But even from the back, the vista of his slim, youth torso and his blemish-free skin sent prickling of fervour through me. I saw his lovely pert bum, tonight clad in a rather jazzy pair of pink and xanthous brief, which he left on. As he climbed into bed on the other side, I found myself saying,

"Do you want to nestle a while ?"and I raised my arm as he quickly rolled across and snuggled up beside me, putting one arm around my heart and resting his brain on my chest. His underpant-clad bulwark was pressed against my thigh and I had an erection again !

Slightly embarrassed that he might discover my erecting, I rolled onto my English, facing away from him but still holding him to me. His arm was still clutched around my middle but his face was now buried in the book binding of my cervix and his bulge ( which I was rather aware of by this clock time ) was pressing against the brass of my backside.

This seem fine for a spell and I thought he was settling-down to drowse. But then I felt his arm motion and his hired hand head start to stroke my chest of drawers, softly and gently at first gear, exploring and discovering my nipple. I didn't want his script ‘ wandering'any further, so I took custody of it with my own and gave it an affectionate wring. Unfortunately, I think he must have taken that as a signal to go further because his paw now pulled away and began ‘ wandering'down across my tummy. As he did so, I felt his hand brush against my erect reed organ, unconstrained beneath the eiderdown. needle to say, my gist was racing, surely flash enough for him to hear it ! His paw came to take a breather on my erect and tender member and he closed his fingers around it softly. I tried not to twinge but, you know how it is, you can't helper it ; an nonvoluntary spasm occurred in my groin that manifested itself in a twitch in my penis - followed by that familiar feeling of a drop of pre-cum oozing from my tool.

component of me wanted to stop him now, before it went any further, but I'm sorry to say that I was so excited by this gorgeous youthful man pressed tightly up against me and with his hired hand around my pipe organ that I just lay there, allowing him to make the adjacent move. Which he did.

He then began slowly masturbating me, using my own pre-cum as a lubricator. I'm uncut, and he was gently pulling my prepuce up and down over the dampish head teacher of my put up organ and this just encouraged Sir Thomas More pre-cum to flow. His digit seemed to be almost lovingly massaging the now swell and damp straits of my tool. I was so highly aroused by all this - and him especially - that I knew I wasn't going to be able to go for it. It was just too exciting. Plus, I hadn't had sex or masturbated in the last three Clarence Day !

Before I knew it, I felt that familiar aching feeling in my chunk ; his continued motions up and down with my foreskin and around and around with my penis-head, so firmly and yet so gently, soon elicited the inevitable result - and I came. As I climaxed, I gasped in sculptural relief as my jism erupted though my tool and onto the bed-sheets. He soon realised what was happening under the bed-clothes and the motions of his hand became more sweeping ; his finger clasped and enveloped the head of my penis, as I shot 3 or 4 to a greater extent lading of my spermatozoan into his eager hand and fingers. I was in torture and hug drug at the same metre, as my spasms continued until they subsided in his helping hand. It was then that he kissed me - on the back of the neck - as we lay there. I was just breathing heavily, catching my breath, as I hugged him tight to me, as an unverbalised recognition of warmheartedness for what he had just done. I thought that would be it.

Quietly, he murmured my public figure and then said,

"will you let me do it to you ?"He said the words with a kind of soft pleading in his vox and I could feel his own hard-on bulging in his underpants, pressed hard against my buttocks.
"Don't you want to keep that for someone special ?"was all I could think to say.

He said,"But you are soul special,"and I breathed-in a recondite breathing space of surrender, as I turned on the light and rolled over to take care him in the face. His lovely bluish-gray eye were still sad and blood-shot from all his crying earlier but his grimace just looked like a miserable little pup that wanted to be loved. I couldn't assistance it. I put my hand out, pulled his face to me and kissed him warmly on the lips. Such full, cushy, scrumptious and delicious lips.

I thought that, possibly, I might have shocked him ; but no. He simply copied my move and put his hand behind my straits, as we both melted into each other in such a loving kiss that, to me, tasted like sweet love ! My idea raced as I thought of all the unwritten rules I had just broken and I realised what thin ice I was on. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if he ended-up being hurt even more by what I had just done but somehow I must have known that he was old enough and sensible enough and that it was all going to be alright.

As he took his underpants off, I reached over to the locker and got a condom from the drawer. I gave it to him and said,

"I suppose you know what to do with this ?"

He looked at me with a sort of sheepish grin that spoke of naughtiness and guilt. He took it from me and began opening it, as I rolled onto my front with a pillow under me. I reached out and passed him the lubricating substance, as I felt him climb over, astride and behind me.
I guess it was because it was his initiative clock time doing this that he was a bit frenetic at first off and I had to quiet him down.

"Take it slowly - gently. I'm not going anywhere !"I assured him, as he nervously prodded around for his entrance. I reached behind myself with one hand and took clasp of his rock-hard erection, now clad in its natural covering, all slippery with lube, and I guided it to its finish. He pushed into me - a bit too intemperate and a bit too far really - and I gasped in painful sensation as his tool crashed my outer and inner anatomical sphincter almost simultaneously.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry"he said,"Did I do it wrong ?"

I reassured him,"No. No, it's alright ; just keep there a spell and let me relax."goodness as Au, he waited for me to signal that he could have a bun in the oven on.

Once he began thrusting in and out of me, it didn't take him long. His question quickly became urgent, as I felt his solid state humanity pushing up, deeply into my interior. I had cum already LE than half-an-hour ago and yet the excitement of feeling him slapping his groin against my backside, his arms astride my organic structure and his Hammond organ inside me was getting me aroused again. He didn't realise it but his hard creature was also rubbing back and Forth River across my prostate and it was driving me towards another orgasm.

Within just a arcminute or two, his thrusting became more dire and forceful. He started moaning and whimpering, as he made straight thrust after lunge, hard into me. All the pent-up emotions and frustrations of his last yr now came surging out of him and into me. I felt his organ throbbing and pulsing interior of me, as he shouted out his relief and then collapsed against my back with his arms clasped tightly around my bureau, his font buried in the nucha of my neck. He was crying again, sobbing his substance out, and I realised at that here and now that at the height of his climax, he had been imagining that he was at last fulfilling his indirect request to make beloved to his dearest Gavin.

He had slipped out of me by this time and I let him sob against my neck opening for a moment or two, his tears and dribble running down the incline of my neck and buttock. Then I moved around and turned over. With the adeptness of experience, I quickly disposed of the condom from his now softening tool and as I lay back down, he fell onto me, hugging me and murmuring,

"I'm sorry ; I'm so sorry,"as I gently stroked his hair and comforted him. He knew that I knew - and that I understood. We both drifted-off to sleep in each other's arms.

I need not feature worried about him. It was me that probably got hurt because we never made love again, although we became even unbendable, deeper admirer than before. He still called around for recently nighttime chat but we never talked about that night and soon our conversations would let in tales of his latest conquests and then his new"boyfriend ”, who he of line brought around to me to approve ! It's sad really, isn't it - but in a dainty kind of way !