Paul and I now message back and forth constantly, even when we are working just a few dozen yards away from each other. I’d had a few days without seeing him, spending far too much time with my thoughts and strange reminiscences of my youth.

ME: Hey, how was college yesterday. Did you enjoy studying about drainage falls?

PAUL: Yeah, it was so interesting, lol.

 

ME: Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. It really is such a vital and important subject, lol.

PAUL: Actually, I almost fell asleep. I really have chosen the wrong career, haven’t I?

ME: Maybe. You’ll have to stick with it now though. It’d look awful on your CV if you don’t finish it. Sorry!

PAUL: Are you busy later? I could come around and talk about it if you have a little time?

ME: I’ve got a call to make on my way home, but I’ll be back by six.

PAUL: Kool. I’ll see you later ;)

 

ME: OMG. Did you just use the word Kool?

ME: BTW, Mum said to let yourself in. She’s fed up with getting up to answer the door.

PAUL: Will do!

When Paul arrives that evening, I can hear him come in and stop for a quick word with my parents. I can clearly hear them; the doors are open and they’re directly below me at the foot of the stairs. Everybody says hello and, when Paul explains that he’s here to talk about college, Mum tells him not to work too hard or for too long.

“Your Mum seemed really pleased to see me this evening,” he tells me when he makes it in to the office. “She seems to be especially happy about something.”

“Oh, fuck!”, I manage to blurt out. “I should have known she’d be like this. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” All I can manage is to drop my head into my hands over my keyboard and sigh a couple of times. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Wait. What? Why are you sorry? Alan, what have you done?”

“I…”

“It’s okay, just tell me what happened?”

“Well, I went shopping with Mum the other day and she said I seemed really happy.”

“Yes, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You do seem really happy.”

“No, but I told her why I was happy. I was so worried about something embarrassing happening whey you’re around that I felt I had to warn her. I’m so sorry, we promised to keep everything a secret, but I told Mum that we’re more than friends, boyfriends.” I manage to sneak a look at Paul from under my brows as my embarrassment spreads. “I really am so, so sorry!”

Paul sits looking across the office at me for a good couple of minutes without saying a word. I can almost see the conflicting emotions as they play across his face.

“So, you came out to your Mum?” he asks at last.

“Erm… Yes. Is that all that’s worrying you? I basically outed you to her as well!”

“And, did it bother her that you’re gay?”

“No, she was really supportive. She told me to be myself and she’d always be there for me. She also said I should tell people or not, as and when I felt comfortable. She told me to keep us a secret if that was what you wanted.”

“Well, I don’t have a problem with it then. I’d be mortified if we were ‘caught’ doing stuff. I know she won’t tell anyone and I trust her to protect you and therefore me as well.”

“I think she was going to tell Dad, but not my brother. It does mean we won’t get accidentally disturbed from now on. I really am sorry for breaking your trust though.”

“Okay. Well, I forgive you. You did what you had to do, really to protect us and my reputation, so actually it’s pretty cool.” He scoots his chair closer, so he can rest his hands on my knees and draw me in for a kiss.

When I manage to break away to take a long-overdue breath, I manage to get a few words out. “Aren’t we going to talk about college stuff?”

“Actually, can we do that a bit later. I want to get the guided tour of your bedroom now!”

I can’t argue with such an enticing suggestion and, getting up from my desk, I take Paul’s hand and lead him next door to the box room that I use as my bedroom. It’s barely big enough for the 5-foot bed and a chest of drawers, but it’s all I need for sleeping and I have my paperback collection on a set of shelves that fill one entire wall.

Paul pushes the door closed behind us and whispers “Oh, this door has a lock.” I hear the key turn and the latch click into place as his arms wrap themselves around my neck and draw me in to another kiss.

“I have some oils here somewhere,” I whisper in his ear as he draws my t-shirt back to kiss my neck. “Would you like me to give you a massage?”

“You don’t just mean a wank, do you?”

“No, I mean a massage. Wanking comes later.”

“Oh, sorry, yes please. I’ve never had one.”

“Well, I’ve never really given one, but Mum tried to give me one once and I’d like to give it a try. I have watched a couple of tutorials though.”

“Okay, what do I need to do?”

“Well,” I tell him as I reach for the first button of his work shirt, “I think you need fewer clothes, far fewer, in fact almost none would be perfect!”

“Well, you do too then,” he replies, hauling the hem of my t-shirt up, forcing me to lift my arms as he pulls it off me. “You don’t want to get oil on them.”

“Down to underwear then,” I tell him as I step back to drop my joggers. I already had bare feet so I was now just in my boxers and clearly a little excited.

Paul fiddles with his cuff buttons, but soon is also down to his shorts and equally clearly excited. He reaches out to stroke the front of my boxers, keen to feel the bulge of my cock through the sheer material.

“Uh-Uh. Massage time. Just get on the bed and lie on your front. Put your arms out a little to the sides and just try to relax.”

When Mum wanted to learn how to give a massage, she had bought some essential oils and loads of almond oil to act as a carrier. I sometimes massaged a little oil with tea tree onto my feet, if I’d had a long day walking or working. I kept it in the drawer of my bedside cabinet and now reached for this.

He seems so comfortable that I almost don’t want to disturb him. I take a few moments to just stand and stare. Paul isn’t overtly muscular or athletic, but he isn’t really carrying any extra weight either, just that little bit of puppy fat. I’d describe him as cuddly, but he’s probably too tall and solid for that to sit well on him. He’s already a little taller than my six feet, and probably still has a bit more growing to do.

I knew enough to let the oil warm slightly in my hand before I start, but still remember to warn Paul. “This may be cold for a second, but don’t squeal!”

“I don’t ever squeal,” he protests quietly.

Rubbing the oil around in my hands, I move to straddle Paul’s lower back, allowing me to place a hand on either shoulder and start to gently, but firmly, massage the oil into the muscles of his neck and upper back. I begin to work out and down each bicep, slowly increasing the pressure and probing with my thumbs.

“Hmm… that’s amazing!”

I now change position slightly, allowing myself access to the whole of his back, probing with my thumbs down the length of his spine, right to the waistband of his boxers before then using my fingers to apply pressure slowly back up the sides of his ribcage.

I soon need a little more oil before changing position once more to work on the back of his thighs and down the back of each calf, keeping the same firm, even pressure and long, smooth strokes. My actions seem to be constantly punctuated by little moans, groans and whispers of encouragement.

Without removing his boxers, I move my hands up inside each leg opening, massaging his buttocks with the same pressure and rhythm. I take extra care to glide my thumbs down between his cheeks and gently around his hole. I’m getting super aroused and can see a damp spot appearing where my erection presses against my boxers.

“Turn over, I’ll do the front.”

Paul manages to roll over on to his back, a drowsy, dreamy look on his face and a massive bulge evident in his boxers. I pour out a little more oil and slowly work from the bottom up, starting with his shins and moving upward to his thighs. I let my thumbs slip up beyond the hem of his boxers, but only to brush across his hips and back down the outside of each leg.

As I sit astride him once more, to work on his chest and shoulders, neither of us can escape the obvious state of the other’s arousal. As I work Paul’s shoulders, he begins to grind a little, pushing gently up at me from below, his constrained cock stretching towards my arse.

“Did Sir want extras with his massage today?” I ask with a big grin. “You know, massage parlour style?”

Paul is speechless, but I take silence as a positive response and, placing both thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, finally slip them off and release his throbbing arousal. Paul’s so hard that his foreskin is almost fully retracted from his glans which is so taut that it’s shiny and pink.

I kneel between his thighs as he lifts his knees and I grasp his cock with both hands, thumbs parallel along the bottom of his shaft and fingers intertwined. As if I’m continuing the massage, I move my hands slowly up and down his shaft, using my thumbs to roll his foreskin back and forth over his tip.

“Oh Fuck, I’m coming…” he manages to moan after just a minute or so. I quickly switch to a single-handed grip and stroke rapidly for about twenty strokes before Paul explodes into his orgasm, spurting jet after jet of hot come beyond his navel. He moans and shakes his head from side to side, biting his knuckles to stop from crying out. I continue to stroke him, slowly now, but all he can manage is a few deep breaths and a strange whimpering sound.

I grab a towel from my bedside – I wonder who put that there and why – and take a moment to clean up the worst of his spunk.

“Your turn,” he tells me when he can finally talk. He encourages me to slide up to the head of the bed and sit with my legs apart, after removing my pretty damp boxers. I’ve been oozing pre-come for the whole session and the damp spot is now a sticky wet mess.

Lying down between my thighs, he slides an arm under each leg and, using his hands to guide my throbbing cock, wraps his lips around my glans. As his lips slide my foreskin right back, I can’t stifle an involuntary moan of pleasure.

I place my hands gently in the hair on the back of his head and move in time with his insistent up and down on my shaft. I’ve been so turned on for so long that I only last a minute or so. I clasp the hair on the back of his head tighter and explode into his mouth, pulse after pulse of excruciating pleasure accompanied by spurt after spurt of come. I know, intellectually, that a man ejaculates only a spoonful of semen, but it always feels like so much more and this is no exception. I imagine that I’m shooting litres.

Paul swallows as much as he can, but a little bit dribbles out of the corner of his mouth and down into my pubic hair. We’re both spent, but as Paul moves back up into my arms, we both seek out one another’s lips for a series of long, slow kisses.

“So, did my massage technique manage to ease any tensions?” I ask after a few minutes.

“Oh God, yes. Did you see how far I shot. I’ve never done that before. You’re incredible, addictive.”

“Addictive, yes. I think I can understand that feeling. I always thought I was getting plenty out of wanking myself, and I’ve never felt that an orgasm was inadequate. Not always amazing, but always good. With you, though, this is next level. Orgasms with you are just so much, well, so much more.”

“That exactly. It’s just so much more than I can realize on my own. It’s, I don’t know, more complete? Somehow far more fulfilling? I’ve never had such a strong orgasm as that last one, but it just makes me want more. It’s as if I want to see just how much better it can get.”

“Well, we’ll have to keep experimenting then,” I smirk between a few more kisses. “They say that practice makes perfect, so we have to find the time for plenty more practice.”

“So, you’re really okay with me telling my parents?” We’re back in the office, relaxed and sleepy.

“Yes, especially if it means I get to spend time with you like this.”

“And, what about college, do you still want to talk about it.”

“Not really, it was mostly an excuse to see you. I know I don’t really like it, but also that I have to get on with it. With your help it’ll be fine and I’ll get through it. Thank fuck it’s only a two-year course.”

“Does that mean I’m stuck with you for almost two years then?”

“Yes, you’ll have to work hard to get rid of me now.” He leans in for another long kiss, his hand snaking around the back of my neck and rubbing gently.

“In the short term, however,” He looks a little more serious. “I really have to get home before my curfew. I won’t be able to see you this weekend. It’s my birthday and I have to have a family dinner on Friday and then I’m going to see a movie with some of my school friends on the Saturday.”

“Yes, I understand. Will I see you soon after that though? I don’t think I can do without your company for too long now.”

“Yes, probably the following weekend. I’ll be free all day on the Sunday. We can maybe go out for a walk, if the weather is fine, and then have the evening?”

“That sounds wonderful. Do have a good birthday. I’ll be thinking of you and I’ll message you.”

“I’m sorry you can’t be there. Too much to explain if you were.”

“Hey, I understand. I’ve got everything I need from you right here.”

Paul doesn’t want to go, his lips constantly finding mine as I try to encourage him to break apart.

“Go home, evil boyfriend. You’re just trying to get me hard again.”

“And succeeding,” he smirks as he moves his hand across my bulging groin. “Have a good night.” And, just like that he’s out the door, down the stairs and away.

I relax back into the sofa, still smiling at the taste of Paul on my lips as my hand moves down to solve my intimate problem.