Just to remind you - Saint David was 19 and he lived with his unseasoned babe, a smothering mother and a rather authoritarian Father-God in the apartment upstairs. He was about 5'8 ”, slightly built and his centre, as I recall, were greyish-blue. He was a studious type, vivid and articulate and he always had neat, gelled hair - except on the occasion when his mates dumped him, sot, on my doorstep that dark ! But that's the earlier story. This is a few month later.

In the interim, David and I had become friends. After I gave him refuge on the night of his Birthday, he eventually wheedled out of me what had happened and that seemed to consecrate him the courage to start confiding in me. offset, if he passed through the car parking area when I was cleaning the car, he would cling around, just making conversation. Then he began dropping-in on me in the apartment whenever he could - often late in the even on his way home plate from a night out. It was all quite Platonic and ‘ right'and I gave him coffee and we talked about all sorts of stuff and nonsense. I effectively became a kind of unofficial counsellor for him.

One of the commodity things that seemed to hold come from these chats was his increasing confidence and independence from his overbearing parents. After his birthday, when he was out all night for the beginning time in his lifespan ( his parents never knew that he spent the night zonked-out out on my bed, thank goodness ! ) they questioned him less and less about his comings and goings and seemed to give him more exemption to be the offspring 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 his trouser off his wino and sleeping body ; and his cover girl tight inglorious underpants ( with the albumen trim and piping ! ) - and all the residual. But I digress……..

I suppose he must have known that I had grown quite fond of him but I couldn't quite figure-out why he liked spending so much time with me until I got him onto the subject of sex one night. My suspicions proved right. He knew that I was gay right from the outset ; so did his parents, because I had been fairly loose about my once partner, now long gone, but it was only now that David admitted that he was gay too. Actually, the actor's line he used were,"I think I might be gay."Yeah, well ! The difficulty 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 pretty messed-up and who was driving Jacques Louis David up the bulwark !

David was besotted with Gavin though. Gavin was ‘ Mr Wonderful ’, in every esteem. He had been his beneficial booster at school and they had spent a lot of time together, in course of instruction, at each early's homes, in each other's room's, etc. They had"messed around ”, as St. David so coyly put it, but had not"done anything serious ”. The reasonableness for that was not because of any disinclination on Jacques Louis David's part but because Gavin wasn't sure. According to David, Gavin wasn't certain 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 David told me about him, there didn't seem to me to be a whole lot Gavin was sure about ! He wasn't doing David any honest, that's for for sure, but like a good counsellor, I didn't say this to St. David. But I did encourage David to go along questioning what he was doing and whether it was getting him anywhere.

Eventually, Saint David resolved to have it out ( so to utter ) with Gavin, once and for all, and to recite him that he had to make up his nous if he wanted to continue his relationship with David. If so, it was going to make to involve"doing sex properly ”, as David so quaintly put it. St. 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 round later to recount you how it went ? ”.
"Of path,"I said.
By 11.30, I figured they were probably"doing sex properly ”, to use David's word, so I went to bed. The buzzer rang about 11.45 and I threw on my dressing-gown and answered the doorway to find David standing there, looking forlorn and with blood-shot eyes. I suspected he'd been crying.
At this point, I should observe 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 surprise when, as soon as the doorway was closed, he threw his blazon around me and burst into tears !

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

Now, I don't wear pajama to bed and I'm ashamed to say that I already had a hard-on under my dressing-gown and I was desperate that he shouldn't find out, so I managed to pull him away from me and I steered him into the sleeping room, as the rest of the flat was in duskiness and the heating was off. I sat him on the bed, gave him a box of tissue and let him cool off down enough to start telling me what had happened. wellspring yes, I knew what had happened but that's what you do, don't you, at metre like this !

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

"Can I appease 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 dark on his birthday, I couldn't turn him out now. I suppose, what I should suffer done is let him sleep on the couch but I somehow knew that he needed the physical puff of a friend beside him tonight, not just a frigidity couch to doss-down on for the night. So I slipped discreetly back under the cover of the bed and just said,"OK ”, patting the top of the duvet beside me.

I pretended not to look 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, Whitney Moore Young Jr. body and his blemish-free skin sent tingle of agitation through me. I saw his lovely pert bum, tonight clad in a rather jazzy duo of garden pink and xanthous Jockey shorts, which he left on. As he climbed into bed on the early side, I found myself saying,

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

Slightly embarrassed that he might bring out my erection, I rolled onto my incline, 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 rear of my neck and his bulge ( which I was rather aware of by this fourth dimension ) was pressing against the cheeks of my backside.

This seemed amercement for a patch and I thought he was settling-down to doze. But then I felt his arm relocation and his hand start to stroke my chest, softly and gently at first, exploring and discovering my nipple. I didn't need his bridge player ‘ roving'any further, so I took clutches of it with my own and gave it an fond power play. Unfortunately, I think he must have taken that as a sign to go further because his hand now pulled away and began ‘ wandering'down across my stomach. As he did so, I felt his hand brushing against my set up organ, unconstrained beneath the continental quilt. phonograph needle to say, my heart was racing, surely forte enough for him to take heed it ! His hand came to rest on my erect and raw phallus and he closed his fingers around it softly. I tried not to twitch but, you know how it is, you can't help it ; an nonvoluntary spasm occurred in my jetty that manifested itself in a twitch in my member - followed by that intimate smell of a drop of pre-cum oozing from my tool.

part 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 young man pressed tightly up against me and with his hand around my organ that I just lay there, allowing him to pass water the following move. Which he did.

He then began slowly masturbating me, using my own pre-cum as a lube. I'm uncut, and he was gently pulling my prepuce up and down over the moist head of my raise organ and this just encouraged to a greater extent pre-cum to flow. His fingers seemed to be almost lovingly massaging the now egotistic and moist head of my pecker. I was so highly aroused by all this - and him especially - that I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold it. It was just too exciting. Plus, I hadn't had sex or masturbated in the finish three 24-hour interval !

Before I knew it, I felt that familiar aching tactile sensation in my clump ; his continued apparent movement up and down with my prepuce and around and around with my penis-head, so firmly and yet so gently, soon elicited the inevitable solution - and I came. As I climaxed, I gasped in rilievo as my jism erupted though my pecker and onto the bed-sheets. He soon realised what was happening under the bed-clothes and the motions of his hand became more swing ; his digit clasped and enveloped the head of my member, as I shot 3 or 4 More loads of my sperm into his eager hand and fingers. I was in excruciation and ecstasy at the same time, as my spasms continued until they subsided in his hand. It was then that he kissed me - on the backrest of the cervix - as we lay there. I was just breathing heavily, catching my breath, as I hugged him closer to me, as an unspoken recognition of affection for what he had just done. I thought that would be it.

Quietly, he murmured my name and then said,

"volition you let me do it to you ?"He said the words with a sort of gentle pleading in his voice and I could feel his own erection bulging in his underpants, pressed hard against my buttocks.
"Don't you want to observe that for individual special ?"was all I could imagine to say.

He said,"But you are person special,"and I breathed-in a cryptic breath of resignation, as I turned on the light and rolled over to look him in the face. His lovely blue-grey eyes were still sad and blood-shot from all his crying earlier but his face just looked like a poor niggling puppy that wanted to be loved. I couldn't assist it. I put my hand out, pulled his face to me and kissed him warmly on the rim. Such full, soft, delicious and scrumptious lips.

I thought that, possibly, I might have shocked him ; but no. He simply copied my move and put his hand behind my head, as we both melted into each other in such a loving osculation that, to me, tasted like fresh honey ! My thinker raced as I thought of all the unwritten prescript 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 consume 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 storage locker and got a rubber 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 sorting of sheepish grin that wheel spoke of naughtiness and guilt. He took it from me and began opening it, as I rolled onto my front end with a pillow under me. I reached out and passed him the lube, as I felt him rise over, astride and behind me.
I guess it was because it was his first metre doing this that he was a bit mad at foremost and I had to calm him down.

"acquire it slowly - gently. I'm not going anywhere !"I assured him, as he nervously prodded around for his entry. I reached behind myself with one manus and took hold of his rock-hard erection, now clad in its masking, all slippery with lube, and I guided it to its name and address. He pushed into me - a bit too hard and a bit too far really - and I gasped in hurting as his tool crashed my outer and inner sphincters almost simultaneously.

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

I reassured him,"No. No, it's alright ; just harbour there a while and let me relax."commodity as gold, he waited for me to signal that he could gestate on.

Once he began thrusting in and out of me, it didn't take him long. His gesture quickly became pressing, as I felt his solid manhood pushing up, deeply into my insides. I had cum already less than half-an-hour ago and yet the upheaval of feeling him slapping his groin against my can, his weapon system astride my body and his organ inside me was getting me aroused again. He didn't realise it but his hard creature was also rubbing back and forth across my prostate and it was driving me towards another orgasm.

Within just a minute or two, his thrusting became more desperate 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 harmonium throb and pulsing inside of me, as he shouted out his relief and then collapsed against my back with his weapon clasped tightly around my chest, his grimace buried in the nucha of my neck opening. He was crying again, sobbing his heart out, and I realised at that moment that at the altitude of his coming, he had been imagining that he was at last fulfilling his wishing to puddle passion to his love Gavin.

He had slipped out of me by this sentence and I let him sob against my neck for a moment or two, his split and slobber running down the position of my cervix and cheek. Then I moved around and turned over. With the adroitness of experience, I quickly disposed of the safety 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 good-for-naught,"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 give worried about him. It was me that probably got hurt because we never made dear again, although we became even loyal, cryptic admirer than before. He still called around for latterly night schmoose but we never talked about that night and soon our conversations would include tales of his latest conquests and then his new"fellow ”, who he of course brought around to me to approve ! It's sad really, isn't it - but in a nice form of way !