Just to remind you - St. David was 19 and he lived with his vernal Sister, a smothering mother and a rather authoritarian father 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 pilus - except on the affair when his mates dumped him, drunk, on my doorstep that night ! But that's the earlier story. This is a few months later.

In the interim, Saint 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 commit him the bravery to start confiding in me. First, if he passed through the car parking area 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 evening on his way home from a Night out. It was all quite Platonic and ‘ proper'and I gave him deep brown and we talked about all sorts of material. I effectively became a kind of unofficial counsellor for him.

One of the good affair that seemed to have come from these confab was his increasing confidence and independency from his overbearing parents. After his Birthday, when he was out all nighttime for the offset time in his life ( his parents never knew that he spent the Nox zonked-out out on my bed, thank good ! ) they questioned him less and less about his orgasm and loss and seemed to give him Sir Thomas More freedom to be the young man that he was. And a gorgeous Young man he was too ! Every prison term he came around, I couldn't stop from remembering my having to pluck his trouser off his wino and sleeping body ; and his lovely taut black underpants ( with the white trim and piping ! ) - and all the rest. 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 a lot prison term with me until I got him onto the subject of sex one dark. My suspicions proved right. He knew that I was gay right from the outset ; so did his parents, because I had been fairly clear about my old partner, now long gone, but it was only now that David admitted that he was gay too. Actually, the words he used were,"I think I might be gay."Yeah, well ! The bother was he wasn't sure because, although he had never had any interest in young woman, his simply ‘ relationship'was with this other lad, Gavin, who sounded to me middling messed-up and who was driving Saint David up the paries !

David was besotted with Gavin though. Gavin was ‘ Mr Wonderful ’, in every esteem. 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 other's room's, etc. They had"messed around ”, as David so coyly put it, but had not"done anything life-threatening ”. The reason for that was not because of any reluctance on Jacques Louis David's theatrical role but because Gavin wasn't sure. According to St. 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 David told me about him, there didn't seem to me to be a whole lot Gavin was certain about ! He wasn't doing David any good, that's for sure, but like a good counsellor, I didn't say this to David. But I did advance David to keep questioning what he was doing and whether it was getting him anywhere.

Eventually, St. David resolved to have it out ( so to verbalise ) with Gavin, once and for all, and to say him that he had to form up his mind if he wanted to carry on his family relationship with David. If so, it was going to experience to involve"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 occur round later to secern you how it went ? ”.
"Of row,"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 doorbell rang about 11.45 and I threw on my dressing-gown and answered the door to incur Saint David standing there, looking forlorn and with blood-shot middle. I suspected he'd been crying.
At this point, I should mention that we had not been particularly tactile in our friendly relationship up to now. Once the G-word had been discussed, David had taken to hugging me affectionately when I answered my breast door to him but that was as far as it had gone. So I was a little taken by surprise when, as soon as the door was closed, he threw his weapon around me and erupt into tears !

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

Now, I don't wear pyjamas to bed and I'm ashamed to say that I already had a hard-on under my dressing-gown and I was do-or-die that he shouldn't find out, so I managed to draw him away from me and I steered him into the chamber, as the eternal sleep of the apartment was in dark and the heating system was off. I sat him on the bed, gave him a box of tissue 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 umber and we sat on the bed for nearly an hour, with poor David telling ( for the umptieth time ) every detail his life-story with Gavin, interrupted with turn of tears and sobbing and More tissue, until, when he had just about exhausted his supply of bust, he said,

"Can I stay with you tonight ? I can't go abode now and danger 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 Birthday, I couldn't turn him out now. I suppose, what I should have done is let him slumber on the couch but I somehow knew that he needed the physical comfort of a friend beside him tonight, not just a inhuman sofa to doss-down on for the dark. So I slipped discreetly back under the back of the bed and just said,"OK ”, patting the top of the eiderdown beside me.

I pretended not to front as he shyly turned his back to me, taking his shirt and trouser off and laying them over the hot seat. But even from the back, the persuasion of his slim, young torso and his blemish-free skin sent tingles of excitement through me. I saw his lovely irreverent bum, tonight clad in a rather flashy pair of pink and lily-livered Jockey shorts, which he left on. As he climbed into bed on the other side of meat, 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 middle and resting his promontory 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 hard-on, I rolled onto my side, 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 spinal column of my cervix and his swelling ( which I was rather cognisant of by this meter ) was pressing against the face of my backside.

This seemed fine for a while and I thought he was settling-down to doze. But then I felt his arm move and his hired hand commencement to stroke my chest, softly and gently at first, exploring and discovering my teat. I didn't need his script ‘ wandering'any further, so I took clench of it with my own and gave it an warm squeeze. Unfortunately, I think he must have taken that as a signal to go further because his hired hand now pulled away and began ‘ wandering'down across my stomach. As he did so, I felt his hired man brush against my erect organ, unconstrained beneath the eiderdown. phonograph needle to say, my heart was racing, surely brassy enough for him to listen it ! His bridge player came to repose on my erect and spiritualist penis and he closed his fingers around it softly. I tried not to twitch but, you know how it is, you can't aid it ; an involuntary spasm occurred in my breakwater that manifested itself in a twitch in my appendage - followed by that familiar spirit feeling of a free fall of pre-cum seepage from my tool.

Part of me wanted to stop him now, before it went any advance, but I'm sorry to say that I was so excited by this gorgeous Danton True Young man pressed tightly up against me and with his hired man around my organ that I just lay there, allowing him to ready the next 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 erect harmonium and this just encouraged Sir Thomas More pre-cum to feed. His fingers seemed to be almost lovingly massaging the now tumefy and moist promontory of my tool. I was so highly aroused by all this - and him especially - that I knew I wasn't going to be capable to hold it. It was just too stir. Plus, I hadn't had sex or masturbated in the net three days !

Before I knew it, I felt that familiar spirit aching intuitive feeling in my balls ; his continued movement 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 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 sail ; his fingerbreadth clasped and enveloped the head of my penis, as I shot 3 or 4 more wads of my sperm into his eager hand and finger. I was in agony and ecstasy at the Saami time, as my spasms continued until they subsided in his hand. It was then that he kissed me - on the vertebral column of the neck - as we lay there. I was just breathing heavily, catching my breathing space, as I hugged him closer to me, as an unverbalised acknowledgement of affection for what he had just done. I thought that would be it.

Quietly, he murmured my name and then said,

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

He said,"But you are someone particular,"and I breathed-in a bass breath of resignation, as I turned on the Christ Within and rolled over to count him in the face. His pin-up bluish-gray eyes were still sad and blood-shot from all his crying earlier but his face just looked like a inadequate fiddling puppy that wanted to be loved. I couldn't help it. I put my hand out, pulled his boldness to me and kissed him warmly on the sassing. Such full-of-the-moon, piano, luscious and delicious lips.

I thought that, possibly, I might experience shocked him ; but no. He simply copied my move and put his paw behind my head, as we both melted into each former in such a loving kiss that, to me, tasted like sweet honey ! My mind raced as I thought of all the unwritten dominion 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 storage locker and got a condom from the draftsman. 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 guiltiness. 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 lubricator, as I felt him climbing over, astride and behind me.
I guess it was because it was his showtime time doing this that he was a bit frantic at first and I had to calm him down.

"Take it slowly - gently. I'm not going anywhere !"I assured him, as he nervously prodded around for his ledger entry. I reached behind myself with one bridge player and took time lag of his rock-hard erection, now clad in its cover, all slippery with lube, and I guided it to its destination. He pushed into me - a bit too laborious and a bit too far really - and I gasped in pain as his putz crashed my outer and inner 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 obligate there a while and let me relax."goodness as atomic number 79, he waited for me to signal that he could expect on.

Once he began thrusting in and out of me, it didn't take him long. His motion quickly became pressing, as I felt his solid manhood pushing up, deeply into my interior. I had cum already less than half-an-hour ago and yet the upheaval of feeling him slapping his mole against my buttocks, his coat of arms astride my trunk and his organ inside me was getting me aroused again. He didn't realise it but his operose tool 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 despairing and forceful. He started moaning and whimpering, as he made lunge after lunge, hard into me. All the repressed emotions and frustrations of his last twelvemonth now came surging out of him and into me. I felt his organ throbbing and pulsing inside of me, as he shouted out his backup and then collapsed against my back with his arms clasped tightly around my breast, his aspect buried in the nape of my neck. He was crying again, sobbing his heart out, and I realised at that minute that at the tallness of his climax, he had been imagining that he was at last fulfilling his compliments to make love to his love Gavin.

He had slipped out of me by this time and I let him sob against my cervix for a moment or two, his snag and dribble running down the side of my neck and impudence. Then I moved around and turned over. With the deftness 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 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 have worried about him. It was me that probably got hurt because we never made love again, although we became even firmer, deep friends than before. He still called around for late Nox chat but we never talked about that night and soon our conversations would let in tales of his latest conquering and then his new"boyfriend ”, who he of course brought around to me to approve ! It's sad really, isn't it - but in a dainty kind of way !