0 comments/ 13247 views/ 4 favorites David's Second Year at College By: WittePiet [Book I: David's First Year at College should be read first. This is "highbrow" porn with much culture, science, music and religion in its subject matter]. Chapter 16 David When term began I was immediately plunged into a hectic existence. Although there were no university examinations in the second year, there was a vastly increased amount of laboratory work: with sessions from 5 to 6 hours per day compared with 2 to 3 hours in year 1. Often too, after a day in the lab, we had a lecture at 5 pm. Jon and I would leave the flat at different times, but Jon tended to work till 6 pm on the days that I had a 5 pm lecture and we would then go together to eat, either at a pub or a student restaurant. Evenings were also busy: I had Chapel choir practice on Thursdays and the basketball team had a new captain who expected us to spend Wednesday evening training if we had played in the afternoon, so that we ate together and then went for a drink, so I rarely got back home till 10 pm. Jon and I moved our midweek dinner in Hall to Tuesdays and on Fridays we would go to a film at the Rialto, or if there was nothing interesting being shown, we ate at home and then watched a DVD, often, but not always, a porn DVD. On Saturday mornings we went swimming, and returned to the flat for a snack lunch, after which we spent the afternoon making love. Generally we only had proper sex once a week, but if one or other of us needed it urgently, we would have a quick blow-job on some other day. There were a few new faces in the Chapel choir and one of the the girls, like me, appeared for the first time in a scholar's surplice. At the time that the college admitted women there was a lot of discussion about what the women choristers should wear. Eventually they decided female scholars would wear a surplice and Canterbury cap, the commoners a gown and Canterbury cap. The choir's reputation was buoyed up by the invitation to tour the Netherlands in the following summer. Barbara was still in the choir and I often felt uncomfortable when I saw her watching me. About halfway through the term, I got a shock when Jon said that he was coming to the chapel to hear me sing. He had never set foot in there in all his four years as an undergraduate, and I think he was impressed by the 17th century furnishings. Choral Evensong according to the Book of Common Prayer with attractive music----we preferred 17th- and 18th-century settings to later church music----touched his musical and emotional sensibilities and he was very complimentary to me (or at least the whole choir) in bed that night. So the term progressed with much activity and little fucking. But that seemed to enhance the experience when we did make love. And I found our sometimes hasty and occasionally furtive cock-sucking very enjoyable. Jon had a desk in an office shared with the other PhD students and at night he was often alone there and we were able to enjoy a quickie. Most Sundays I had breakfast in college after chapel at 8 am and spent the day in churchy activities including singing evensong, until I met him on the Hall steps for dinner. He spent the day either on his research or doing the books for his engineering business. Early in November he told me that the time needed for the firm's business was too much, and that he was going to get the man who ran the business as day-to-day manager to hire someone to do it, and he himself would take steps to sell the business to the manager, if necessary in annual instalments, leaving him (Jon) with nothing more than a seat on the board and the director's fee of £2000 a year. He said the work was too much for the salary he had been paying himself. He needed time to concentrate on his other interests. Chapter 17 David I wondered how long Jon and I could keep our relationship secret. Although he was careful not to show any overt signs of affection in public, I was not so careful, and occasionally would put my arm around him in public. I reckoned that probably the first group to guess what we were up to would be the people in the Chemical Laboratory, as that was the only place where our circles of colleagues overlapped. As far as the Chapel choir was concerned, in spite of Barbara's rudeness, she could only guess, as she only saw us in Hall, and the rest were too polite to make any comment. As for the basketball team, most of them were too involved in their own affairs to notice, as none of them was a chemist. Several of my friends in the lab began to notice the time that I spent with Jon, and I noticed them grinning to one another if he came into the teaching lab to talk to me. His commitments were also fairly active, as he demonstrated to the third-year class for one whole day per week. Unlike the other students, he did not need the money, but still felt that it was necessary for his career to do regular teaching. I asked him if any of the research students or postdocs had commented on the fact that we were frequently seen together. He said that he explained it by us being just on good terms as landlord and tenant, which did not to me, sound at all convincing. I was very relaxed with my college tutor, Dr DC, whom I usually saw once or twice a week for an assignment. He was the senior of the two college chemistry tutors. Dr Y, whom I had had in the previous year only dealt with first year students. Dr C would be the only person with whom I would have regular contact for the rest of my undergraduate study, and I found him very understanding. Tutors are the only persons who hold dual appointments in both university and college, so he also gave lectures in the Department. Obviously in conversation with him I must have mentioned Jon's name several times, because once he realised that I was lodging in Jon's flat, he put two and two together. Camford had very strict rules about how members of the university talked to one another on formal occasions. Faculty Staff, postdocs and research students were allowed to use first names when talking to one another, but in any pedagogic contact such as a tutorial, the rule was that undergraduates were addressed as Mr X and Miss Y, and students in reply had to say Professor, Dr P or Mr Q. Early in December Dr DC threw a party for all the college chemistry students, of whom there were about 25, spread over all four of the undergraduate years. To emphasise the social nature of the occasion, each student was allowed to bring a guest. Jon did not want to come as my guest, as he said that it would be tantamount to coming out, as everyone there would know him, however slightly. I said that he should come, but should leave early without me, on the excuse that he needed to complete an experiment in the lab. I would then noncommittally field any awkward questions that turned up after he had gone. It didn't work. The party was held in the college function room and when we turned up together, the knowing looks that many of the other guests exchanged with one another, indicated that not only my tutor, but also most of the others present guessed that we were an item. After an hour or so, I slipped outside and Jon followed me. "Don't go" I said to him "I don't think I could cope with the questions I will be asked if you go. If you stay, no one will say anything" I was relying on the ancient "don't ask, don't tell" policy that had been universal in Camford for centuries. And it worked. The party got slightly noisier, but finished around 10pm, and most people then adjourned to the Lion, a pub near the college, to continue drinking. Jon and I didn't go, thereby almost proving that we didn't want to be asked awkward questions. I had no doubt that the others would be saying that we had gone off to fuck. When we got home I said to Jon: "This can't go on. Even when I move back into college next year, we will still be seen together. The lads in my year and some of the girls have probably guessed already". "I can't do anything unless I talk to the prof" said Jon. "Why?" I asked, "you don't need his or anyone's permission to fuck me. No one in the department is under 18". You have to remember that this was before the 21st-century of openness and equality, and recognition of homosexual partnerships. I was confident that the abilities that we both had were such that coming out would not damage our futures, moreover I felt that I didn't give a fuck if it did, I wanted Jon to be known publicly as mine, and I knew that his income made a professional academic career for him unnecessary. But I agreed to leave things to the following term. Chapter 18 David At the Choir Christmas party where I had had the scene with Barbara the year before, she came up and started chatting to me, the first time that we had talked tête-à-tête since the year before. "You've changed this year" she said, "you're a lot less uptight than you were. I guess that being fucked by your boyfriend is doing you good". I turned bright red. Not only had she guessed that I was in a relationship, she seemed to know that I was the one being fucked. "What do you expect me to say?" I asked "all I'm going to tell you is that yes, I am much happier this year." "It shows in your singing" she said, "You were really quite good in that aria you sang in September". "Thank you," I replied with a grin. "What about yourself? I hope you're getting it regularly." "Not as often as I would like" she said, "because he's not in Camford". Curiously I did not feel resentful or upset that she had sized me up. "Can I get you another drink?" I asked her. At the next tutorial my tutor, Dr DC asked me if I was in a relationship with anyone. "Do you ask all your students that?" I asked "or only me? Is there something wrong with my academic performance?" "Oh, no", he said. "Well then, don't ask, because I won't tell" I replied. This of course effectively meant yes, but I could easily deny that I had an acknowledged to him that I was being shagged. However, he did not leave it at that. "Let me put it another way then", he said. "Are you in a sexual relationship with Jonathan Singleton?" What could I say, but "Yes"? "We have then a potential conflict of interest" said Dr DC. "Research students have a minor role in undergraduate assessment, and any personal relationships might thus lead to an instructor or demonstrator attempting to influence the outcome of the assessment process. In other words Jon might attempt to influence your grades. Clearly this is a very far-fetched scenario, because the input of laboratory demonstrators is pretty minute. But some of the other undergraduates in your year might not see it that way. We are moving into an era when there is an increasing tendency to question our assessment methods and we have to be seen to be squeaky clean. I am going to talk to Jon's PhD supervisor about this. What a pity that he is not shagging a music or classics student! I ought not to have said that, but you can see the difference. Neither you nor he must regard this as a punishment of some kind. You have fallen in love and you have to live with the consequences. Would you both like to pop in here tomorrow night about 7 pm and have a drink, just to show that there are no hard feelings?" "Yes, so far as I know," I said. "I hope Jon does not have a prior engagement." "Phone if there are any problems" he said. When I got home, Jon was cooking risotto. "Have you seen your supervisor?" I asked. "Yes" he said "I've been banned from laboratory teaching/demonstrating for four years. I'm fed up about it, but I can understand the reason. Dr ES told me that my big mistake was to invite you to live with me. If we had just been casually fucking and you had lived in college, there would have been no problem, but because we want a long-term relationship, there is the risk that impartiality would fly out of the window. It could have been worse. They could have told you to move out, or even suggested that you change your field of study. It's not anti-gay, because they would have done the same if I had been living with a female chemistry undergraduate. Now you know why I wanted to keep our relationship secret. I'm pissed off, because I need teaching experience. On the other hand, I don't need the money, so in a way it's good that the demonstrating should go to some poor sod who needs the cash. This is just about ready. Go and get a bottle of Italian red out of the cupboard." "Well", I said, "I suppose that now everyone in the lab knows about our relationship, we can come out. I am certainly going to tell the lads in my year, at least the ones in St Boniface's. The others will hear fast enough. By the way, clear your engagements if you have any for 7 pm tomorrow. Dr C has invited the two of us for a drink in his rooms." Precisely at 7 pm the next day, the two of us were knocking on my tutor's door. "Come in, lads" he called. We went in and Dr C was sitting there with a welcoming smile on his face. "What will you have to drink?" he asked, "sherry, Marsala or Worthington White Shield?" Jon opted for the beer, I asked for Marsala. "This is strictly a social occasion" said C. However, I can tell you on behalf of the Chemical Laboratory as well as the college that we are sorry to have had to adopt a course that may have inconvenienced you, Jon. But we are anxious to avoid even the slightest possible implication that the university's assessment methods can be influenced by personal feelings. Neither of you is being penalized because you are gay, or because you are living together or because you want a long-term relationship. The college cannot and would never apply disciplinary rules from an earlier era. What a pity you are both chemists. Mind you, speaking personally, I am extremely glad that you are, because you both have such potential talent that I am glad that you have been or are still students of mine. If we had more people like you two, Camford would lead the land in academic talent. "Jon, please tell me how you feel." "I can't possibly blame anyone for the situation except myself", Jon said. "My love for this boy is so great that I don't give a fuck for the loss of a bit of teaching experience if I can have him. And even if my future career were affected, such a treasure as him is worth more than any academic job." "David (I know that I should call you Mr Scarborough, but this is not a formal pedagogic situation), how do you feel?" I blushed. "I would welcome the opportunity to shout to the dreaming spires of this town how much I am in love with this guy" I said, and to the embarrassment of both of them I advanced towards Jon with outstretched arms. He stuck out both his arms and grabbed me hard by the shoulders. "Don't let yourself get carried away, David," he said. "I apologise, Dan, for this guy's indiscreet behaviour. David, calm down please." "Let's have another drink, then" said DC, pouring them out. "Oh, and Mr Scarborough" he said "I shall know in an instant if he gives you any help with your assignments." "He won't," I said. "I don't need his help for those!" The short Camford term (eight weeks) soon came to an end. I invited Jon to come home with me for Christmas. He said that he would, but that he would have to leave on 28 December to spend New Year with his mother, and he arranged to fly to Nice from Manchester. To avoid the pre-Christmas rush, we arranged to travel home by train on 20 December. Chapter 19 Jon During the Martinmas term, David and I basically only saw each other at breakfast or dinner and in bed. The firm's business was proving burdensome. Here was I being paid £10K per annum for one day and two evenings work per week. The firm was not getting value for money and I could ill spare the time. I wanted to progress the planning application for Arthur Rockwell's barn and see how the tree-planting was getting on. So I decided to offer the business to its current manager, Edward Biggs, who had served my father faithfully and was fully committed to the future of the business. I called Tim Ingledown to make arrangements to sell the firm to Edward for a series of annual payments. Once the transfer had been completed, I would become a consultant with a salary of £2K per annum and a seat on the board. We were both too busy and too tired at night to do much fucking, but we would suck each other off a couple of times a week. But I insisted that we had Saturdays completely free and that we spend it together. On the Saturday of the first week of term, we went for a swim at the COP (Camford Olympic Pool), and then cycled home, where we shared a pizza for lunch. After a cup of coffee we adjourned to the bedroom, undressed one another and got into bed. We kissed one another passionately for a few minutes and I then began to run my lips down David's back. "You smell of chlorine in spite of the shower" I said. "But is not unpleasant, just not your usual personal scent. David said nothing in reply, just kissed me. I have now reached the small of his back and my mouth was approaching his crack. I rolled him onto his side so that I could prise the cheeks apart with my mouth and push my tongue inside. He moved to widen the crack and I began to rim him gently. His blond anal hair felt tickly against my lips. He gurgled with pleasure, and my heart melted at the sound. "Oh my darling fag boy, I love you so much." I said, before resuming work with my tongue. "Jon, you are so sweet to me," he said, and moved into a foetal position. I ran my lips over his right arse-cheek before turning him onto his back. I grabbed his legs and put them over my shoulders, before squeezing lube into his perineum and crack. I lubed my fingers and pushed them into his hole to stretch and relax him. He opened a condom wrapper and rolled it onto my prick, which of course was rock hard. I lubed it and gazed into his smiling blue eyes. He looked so delicious that my mouth almost began to water as I entered him rather more roughly than usual, but his relaxed attitude and the lube ensured a small smooth passage of my dick into his gut. He smiled as I began to thrust, and I fondled his tool with my left hand until it was stiff and slippery. He was now completely relaxed about anal sex and was beginning to enjoy being fucked. I deliberately went as slowly as I could and he responded by squeezing my dick when it was at its deepest, before allowing me to pull back slightly. I kissed the blonde hair on his chest and quickened my ramming, and after a matter of a couple more minutes I came into the rubber, shouting "My beautiful boy" as I did so. I detached his legs from behind my head and gently pulled out of his hole. I then lay on top of him and began to rub my belly hard against his dick. He responded by pushing his body upwards and I could feel the rippling warmth of his hairy belly against me, my arms were round his shoulders and he gasped "I'm gonna come" and squirted three shots of creamy seed against my belly and over our two chests. He grabbed a tissue from the bed table and wiped as much slimy come off us as he could and dropped the tissue onto the floor, while I slid the condom off my prick and carefully tied it up before dropping it beside the tissue onto the floor. Shagged out and breathless, I lay beside him, my left hand across his chest. What I enjoyed about our Saturday lovemaking was that it was not just shag and sleep, blow and zip-up. We would lie together and not just mutter endearments and cuddle, but talk and discuss. Today David asked, "Why do you wear those strange g-strings? Are they more comfortable than conventional briefs? They do make you look sexy. Your delicious arse is shown off to great advantage when it's not covered by underpants". "Actually," I said, "they are not particularly comfortable and they are very unhygienic. I'm not really keen on them. But they were a present when I left school from my fellow sixthformers. They presented me with a dozen pairs, because they said the backless structure facilitated the passenger of wind from my arsehole. I was always farting at school, and I had a reputation as the school's champion farter. The idea was that I would remember them whenever I let off!" David's Second Year at College "Well you still seem to live up to your reputation as a farter" David said. "I rather enjoy hearing you let off. It always makes me think of Good King Wenceslas: 'the rude wind's loud lament.'" I pushed off all the bedclothes and knelt up. I kissed David and whispered "Let's do 69", and I took his limp tool into my mouth, moving around so that I knelt with his head between my legs, my cock dangling over his lips. He opened his mouth and took my dangling member into it and gently sucked. I felt that delicious stiffening which is the most enjoyable prelude to sex that a man can experience. I could feel his dick in my mouth responding in the same way. The next few minutes of total silence demanded concentration, as we each had to sense non-verbally how near the other one was to his climax. We didn't always synchronize, but as each of us learned to understand the physiology of the other's individual response, we got progressively better at this, and I got better at holding and swallowing come when I was on top, which I usually was. After a couple of hours of sweaty and messy, but infinitely enjoyable activity, we showered off together, dried each other, and drank a 500-ml bottle of White Shield between us. One of the things about bottle-conditioned beer that I had to teach David was that you never drink it out of the bottle unless you enjoy a mouthful of sludgy yeast. The extreme bitter taste in the beer was a nice contrast to the taste of come. This pattern followed on most Saturdays that term. Halfway through the term I decided that I wanted to hear him sing, so I went to Chapel for Sunday Evensong. Jon had to tell me where to sit, as I had never set foot in Chapel in the previous five years. He showed me a seat where I could see the choir well. He sat on the back row, and looked ravishing in his white surplice with his golden hair. Comparison with an angel is not appropriate, as angels are sexless beings, and gazing at his beauty filled me with desire as well as deep affection. I felt proud as well as lustful that this delicious piece of young manhood was mine. I enjoyed the singing, and the Chaplain's sermon addressed a serious modern ethical dilemma, and was worth hearing. David kept agitating that we should come out. I was extremely reluctant, because it is very inappropriate for a person with teaching responsibilities to have a relationship with one of his students. Not because it was sexual, or because we were gay, but because it defeats the objectivity that should lie between teacher and taught. Anyway, our relationship had been recognized in spite of our attempts at concealment, and I was summoned by my supervisor and told in no uncertain terms to cease teaching all laboratory classes for undergraduates. I had plenty of research to do, and did not need the demonstrator's pay, whereas some of my fellow PhD students did. At first I regretted that I would lose useful teaching experience, but then I realized that against that loss I had gained a talented and very precious lover. What is so strange is that while he, who after all was supposed to be the spiritual one and was not the biggest beneficiary of our intercourse, should be so matter of fact about being fucked, while I, the active anal invader, found entering him a wonderful, almost transcendental experience, the height of caring love, awe and tenderness. Because of the relentless pressure of academic activities, it was a relief when the Christmas vacation arrived. I travelled home with David, not without some apprehension as to how I might be received. In those days parents had only just got used to meeting the man who was fucking their daughter, and here were David's father and mother meeting the guy who was fucking their son! Chapter 20 David's father When David asked to bring Jonathan home for Christmas, we naturally agreed. But little did Jon know what was in store for him. I met them at the station, kissed David and shook hands with Jon and took them into the refreshment room for a drink. When we were all settled at a table, the boys' luggage beside them, I set out the programme for the days before Christmas, which fell on a Friday. On the Tuesday, Jon was to talk to my wife in the morning and after a light lunch I would talk to him in the afternoon. In the evening we were going out to dinner at the local pub. On Wednesday morning I would talk to my wife, and in the afternoon I would talk to both the boys together. We would eat at home in the evening before beginning the run-up to the Christmas festivities. Both boys looked a bit surprised at this barrage of interviews, and anyone reading this might dismiss us as interfering parents. But for those who do: remember how passionate teenage love can be, and how short-lived. We did not want either our son or his lover to suffer emotional damage by contracting a liaison that did not last. The next afternoon Jon came into my study and I offered him a chair and drink. He chose a beer and sat down. I said "There are two things I want to talk to you about, Jon. Of the two I think the second one is more serious. The first is this: I know that you are both head-over-heels in love. I also know that you are both intelligent adults, who want to enter a lifelong relationship. My concern is this: do you both feel able to make this commitment unreservedly, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live? What I do not want to happen is a bitter break in the relationship with lasting emotional damage to one or both of you. Obviously there is from your point of view only one answer to this: 'It won't happen.' We have to assume that you are right and in that case I will welcome you with all my heart into our family. I only say this because emotion can override sense and I want to point out the worst-case scenario. "The second point is more under your personal control. I understand that you are a person of wealth. I'm not going to ask you to provide for my son, he can work to provide for himself. What I want is your assurance that you will not use your wealth to spoil him, to give him the idea that you will provide for him, that he has no need to work, but sit back in a life of comfort, idleness and luxury at your expense as a paid catamite. Do not use your wealth as a weapon to dominate him. "I'm sure you appreciate that he is a very talented young man, and in your relationship I want you to promise me this, that you will do your best to foster and encourage him to develop those talents, and you will not teach him anything that will lead to idleness or indifference? He has a strong Christian faith, and I don't want it to be subtly undermined by bad habits." "Sir," Jon replied "I promise you faithfully that I will care for your wonderful son, protect him from rash teenage decisions, and foster his amazing talent. I will not distract him from his studies, I will support him in his emotional need, and I will do everything in my power to make him not only a happy man, but also ensure that the goodness that I see in him at present also grows and develops. I am conscious that I am not worthy of him. I am an agnostic struggling to ensure that wealth does not corrupt me and I am racked with a deep desire for David's delightful body. I want him and would sacrifice every penny that I have to have him as mine. If you disapprove of me, I have to say that it won't make any difference to the two of us, for he wants me as much as I want him." "Good man, I hope that you can fulfil all your aspirations. You may regard me as your father!" I replied, and shook his hand with both of mine. We all walked down to our local pub in the evening taking Jeroen with us, and after a round of drinks we sat down to an excellent meal in the restaurant. After the meal, Jon and David remained there drinking and the rest of us went home. When we got to bed (early) I asked my wife about her interview with Jon. "He means all he says," she said "his charm is genuine, and I am beginning to love him like another son. I think that David is very lucky to have fallen for such a nice person. Remember that I was only a couple of years older than David when you fell for me, and we have no regrets, do we?" she asked, as she kissed me. I have always trusted Helena's judgement of people, and I was glad that we both felt the same way about Jon. I said to her: "I don't know much about gays. I hope they don't spend their time lurking in gay pubs." "They don't have time," she said. "Academic and social life in Camford is hectic." My wife being Dutch is more down to earth in outlook and vocabulary than an Englishwoman of her background and education would be, so I asked her "Who is fucking whom, or are they taking it in turns?" She giggled, and sounded just like our son when she replied "Don't you know? Jon is doing the fucking, not our muscular athletic son, but his dark and skinny friend!" "Did you ask him then?" I asked. "Of course not. I just know. You can call it female intuition." "I hope they're using safe sex" I said "we know nothing about Jon's earlier sexual experience, or David's either for that matter. But it is none of our business. They are both sensible adults. Okay, we don't need any further discussion between us. As far as I am concerned, we have a new son." And I kissed my wife and put the light out. "I wonder if they're shagging now," I said. "I don't think they would, they might make too much noise." She said. We went to sleep The next day I said to the boys at breakfast time. "Change of plan. I'll see you in my study for coffee at 10, we eat early tonight and go to a performance of 'Messiah' in Lockton (our town), if Jon would like that." "Oh, yes, please" he said. "I've not heard it since I was at school." When the boys came into the study, I poured three cups of coffee and shook hands with Jon. I said to David: "Meet my new son" and kissed them both. I was almost in tears. I said to Jon "I'm so sorry that we put you through that ordeal. Really what our son does is none of our business, he's an adult with his own life to live. But we love him so much that I wanted to make myself as certain as I could that you were the right person for him. And now I know that you are." And to my embarrassment, I felt tears running down my face and my voice cracked. "I am sure that David will be as happy with you as I am with Helena." Chapter 21 Jon I was a bit alarmed when David's father told us that I was going to undergo the third degree without David being there to hold my hand. We went home and David's mother showed us our room. It was on the top floor of their enormous three-story house and we had our own bathroom. There were twin single beds in the room. David told me that this had been Jeroen's old room, but that the little boy had been upgraded to David's old room on the floor below. At the evening meal, Jon's father did not say grace, which in England seems only to occur on formal occasions, but I saw that Jon, his father and Jeroen all made the sign of the cross before starting to eat. The next day I had to talk to David's mother in the kitchen (Jeroen was playing at his friend's and Jon's sister had gone out). She started by asking me about my parents. I told them how on the whole they had not played much of a role in my upbringing. "I can see that" she said. "You obviously miss the close human contact that brothers and sisters as well as parents can bring." "I have to admit that I have often felt very lonely," I said, "especially since my father died. I was quite fond of him and he of me. My mother has never been close to me at all." "Oh, Jon, that is terrible" she said. "All men need a mother, even though women find men hard to understand." "Men find women hard to understand as well" I said, "which is why I have always known that I prefer men. You know what men's needs are because you are one yourself. Women are much more difficult." She smiled a beautiful smile. No wonder I had fancied her slightly the previous Easter... "I couldn't believe it when I first met David," I said. "I had been looking at him lecherously in Hall for the whole of the term, looking for a chance to talk to him. But it took a long time to find out how he felt about me. The last time we were here, we were merely good friends. It has all happened since last May. David has transformed my life. I was obsessively occupied with all sorts of things before I met him. Now I am trying to simplify my life, although we are not likely to spend much time together during term. And, do you know, he seems to need me as much as I need him." "That's why David's father fears bad consequences if either of you lets the other down", she said. "Will you cope next year when he moves back into college?" "I think so" I said. "I will not see him on a daily basis, but there is always the phone. I've been considering getting him one of the new wireless phones, so that we can at least talk on the days that we don't meet. But whether such a system will work in Camford, I don't know. I have been forbidden to enter the teaching laboratories because of possible conflict of interest, but I suppose I could always meet him in the canteen at lunchtime." "How do you see the future?" she asked. "I see us as pursuing our own careers, but living together," I said. "I think David will get a first class degree and want to continue for a doctorate. I am going to buy and renovate an old barn, where I hope we can live together, and after I get my PhD, I want to do postdoctoral research, with a hope of becoming a fulltime academic in Camford, or even elsewhere as long as David is with me. All my plans and hopes for the future include him." "I think you will be good for my son," she said. "I KNOW that he will be good for me," I replied. She kissed me. "Go and tell David, I approve of your union." "I'll wait till I've seen Mr Scarborough!" I said. Most fathers have a feeling of ownership of their sons that they do not have for their daughters, and I was very apprehensive of my conversation with David's father. However he was very nice, only worried about David, and I was able to reassure him to the extent that he welcomed me as a son when he heard about my love and care for his eldest boy. The promises I made to him, though made without any witnesses, I regarded as being as binding on me as marriage vows. We all went out to eat at the pub that night and David and I stayed on for a couple of further drinks after the others had gone home. When we got back to the house, everyone had gone to bed, so we decided to follow suit. When we got to our room, David giggled. "Are we both going to fit into that bed?" he asked, pointing to his single bed. "We've got this floor to ourselves. No-one will disturb us. We'll try it in this bed, but I first want to say my prayers and get undressed. That took him 5 min and a naked David leaped into the bed. I went into the bathroom for a pee and I came back with a large clean bath towel and began to undress. "Hurry up!" said David, "I need a shag." He lay on his back and spread his legs wide. His dick was hard and stuck up at 45° to his flat belly. "You randy bugger, haven't you ever heard of foreplay?" I said, my tool visibly stiffening with lust. I spread out the towel on the bed and made him climb onto it and lie on his back on top. I then lay between his legs and rubbed my face in the hairs on his chest. "You'd think you hadn't had it for months, the way you are behaving" I said. "I want to be fucked" he said "I want your cock up my hole now." "Well," I said "you're not going to get it. You ought to have a go at coming first." I lowered myself on top of him and kissed him passionately, rubbing my belly vigorously against his rockhard dick. "That's nice," he said as I continued to kiss, caress and rub him and within a couple of minutes he had shot his load all over my belly and chest, and his own was amply smeared as well with his creamy come. "All you need is in the drawer," he said. I opened a drawer in the bedside table. There was a box of tissues, which I employed to wipe as much of his man-fluid off us as I could and carefully placed it on the bed table. I then pulled out the lube, kissed him again, kissed his belly and nuzzled my nose in his pubic hair. I started to spread the K-Y jelly between his legs over his perineum and began to poke it into it his fundament. I put first one, then two, then three fingers into his love-hole to stretch it a little. I then rolled a condom onto my tool and liberally coated it with lube. "Stand by for entry!" I said. I moved forward and inserted my man-pole through the moistened hair of his perineum and entered his arsehole. "That's good!" He said. "Fuck me, please, Jon." I was surprised at his eagerness to have me inside him. The alcohol must have influenced him, because he was not usually so keen on being fucked, but I did as I was told, pushing my member in and out of his rectal passage. Once again I had that sensation of awe, wonder and delight that we were actually enjoying what some people will consider a dirty experience. It filled me with a sense of love and gratitude to the boy who had brought me so much pleasure. I continue to fuck him for several minutes before it became apparent that I was nearly there, and suddenly, deliberately avoiding making too much noise, my cock exploded and blew my seed violently into its rubber sheath. Breathless, I let my weight fall on David's body and as he opened his mouth I stuck my tongue into it and kissed him passionately. "I love you, my wonder boy." I said. I could feel my dick slowly losing its rigidity and the limp and tired tool slipped out of David's anus slowly and exhaustedly. I lifted myself off him, removed the condom from my dick, tied the end of it carefully and grabbed some more tissue and wiped the surplus seed off my manhood before lying beside him in a state of near exhaustion. "Are we clean enough to go to sleep without having to shower?" I asked. "Yes, as long as we have a shower in the morning" he said. "But please remove the towel, roll it up carefully and we will inspect it in the morning to see whether it needs to be washed or not". Having done these things I put out the light and tucking the blankets in on both sides of the bed, we endeavoured to go to sleep. We fell asleep fairly quickly, but after a couple of hours it became apparent that it was only a matter of time before one or other of us fell out of bed, so with great reluctance I climbed out of David's bed and got into the other and we both very rapidly fell asleep. Chapter 22 Jon We got up in good time the following morning, scrupulously tidied and cleaned up the bedroom, checked that the bed sheets showed no tell-tale signs and that the towel we had used showed no trace of man-juice, disposed of the condom down the toilet and cleaned ourselves up in the shower. In spite of our close proximity while washing each other, we did not succumb to the temptation of further sex. When we went down to breakfast, David's father announced a change in programme. He would see us briefly at 10 o'clock over a cup of coffee. In the afternoon we would eat early and go in the evening to a performance of "Messiah' in Lockton. The interview with David's father was a mere formality. He and David's mother had discussed us at some length and they were both happy to give their blessing on our union. I was happy and relieved and really felt like expressing my relief and joy with another fuck-session, but clearly that was not possible. Little Jeroen had been delighted to see me again. Before tea he sat on my knee and told me what he was hoping to get for Christmas. "I'm glad you've come to see us again," he said. "David told me in the summer that you were his special friend and that I will be seeing you again many more times." He lay back against my chest and contentedly watched television for half an hour before we ate. David's Second Year at College After the evening meal we went along to the performance of the 'Messiah,' taking Jeroen with us. We were doubtful as to whether he would be able to stay awake for a three-hour performance, but he was very keen to come and hear the singing. It was a good performance, the local amateur orchestra performed very well, and most of the guest singers were of reasonably high quality, except for the tenor, who was really rather disappointing. Immediately after the tenor's two opening arias I whispered to David "You could have done those a lot better than he did" and squeezed his hand. He grinned at me happily and remained holding my hand for the remainder of the performance. Jeroen was yawning by the time we got into part three of the oratorio but he managed to stay half awake until the performance finished and we all went home, having enjoyed a very appropriate event in the lead-up to Christmas. After all this, the Christmas festivities were almost an anti-climax. David, David's sister Dorothea and David's father went to the midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, then his father and mother took Jeroen to church on Christmas morning. We opened our presents when they got back and had Christmas lunch/dinner. David and I after lunch went for a short walk, which enabled both of us to fart out a good deal of the gas that had accumulated in our guts, to our great relief and without offending anyone. The evening was spent drinking sherry and watching television. On Boxing Day we all went a long walk to a country pub, returned to a late lunch/dinner of cold turkey and salad and again watched television in the evening. On the Sunday the family went to church, and I packed my bag. We went for a farewell drink in the evening. Although the Monday was a bank holiday, I had a ticket for one of the few trains running, which got me to Manchester airport in decent time to check in for my flight to Nice. One of the advantages of my financial situation was that I did not have to worry about cheap flights. I told David that I wanted to tell my mother about our new relationship and that if she wanted to see him, we might be able to go there at Easter. So I left David and knew that it would be mid-January before the Candlemas term began and he would be back in Camford and in my bed. Chapter 23 David My parents put Jon through a terrible ordeal in the two days before Christmas, and I was delighted when he met their complete approval after a barrage of questions and warnings. This made the festive season particularly pleasant for me. We all exchanged presents. Jon had bought me a beautiful miniature crucifix surrounded by a ring---a sort of Celtic cross with a figure of our Lord on it---on an elastic chain that fitted comfortably round my neck. It was about three centimetres in diameter in 18-carat gold and was designed to be worn all the time----in bed, playing basketball and in the swimming pool, so I can never forget my Saviour. This of course is not how Jon thought of it: he merely conceived of it as an attractive decoration for his boy. It was very comfortable and I loved it. I bought him a set of six pairs of silk briefs in a presentation box, all in different cheerful colours, a replacement for his well worn but unhygienic g-strings. "If you like that," I told him "I'll get you some more. Silk is good to wear next to the skin." Boxing Day was very enjoyable and before I knew it, the 28th had arrived and Jon left on a train to Manchester airport. I felt lonely and miserable after he had gone. I did a bit of reading on synthetic uses of Grignard reagents, because we would be trying some of those in the lab the following term. I also used my father's computer to print out some photos I'd taken earlier in the term of Jon and myself. Digital cameras were very expensive in those days and Jon had lent me his to take a few photographs. I had brought the pictures home on a series of floppy disks and they and Dad's computer and printer could be used to print them out. One of the photos showed Jon naked, and I put that in a drawer beside my bed and from time to time I used to gaze on it and wank myself off. Chapter 24 David I went back to Camford three days before the Candlemas term began. Jon met me at the station and took me to the flat, before returning to his lab. When term began I had arranged for my "coming out". It was very low-key. I went round in the first lab class of the term and gave cards to all the St Boniface second-year students and a few from other colleges. The card read "If you have time, please call in for a drink with me after the lecture on Thursday. I have booked the back bar of the Sparrowhawk from 6 to 6:45 pm. You can get back to college in time for dinner." I arranged with the landlord to put a notice on the door of the back bar saying "Private Party". I went to an ATM and took out enough money, having arranged to start a tab expiring at 6-45 pm. I had to miss the lecture to be at the pub ready, and as the students started to trickle in after the lecture, I gave each one a chitty for one drink at the bar. When Jon came in at 6-15 everyone was there and I made a small speech. I said: "Thank you all for coming. This drink is to celebrate something that you probably already know about, namely that Jon Singleton (and I bowed to him) and myself are an item. I would like especially to say thank you to Tom and Steve, who set us an example in the summer of coming out that has taken us six or seven months to follow." I sat down and began to drink my beer. Jon sat next to me. Tom and Steve were the first to come and shake hands. Tom said, "We must go out for a drink as a foursome. How about tomorrow?" A few people there pulled faces or winked when they saw Jon and me together, but as I was buying the drinks, they could not say anything rude! I looked at Jon and he nodded about the invitation so we said yes we would join Tom and Steve for drink in the Lion the following night after dinner in Hall. I felt very apprehensive for the next couple of weeks whenever I was at choir practice or playing basketball. At the choir practice the week after my coming out, Barbara came up to me and said, "Well, well! I hear you've come out!" "Yes," I said "I put my cards on the table and I'm clearly marked out now as a gay boy." "I think that is very brave of you," she said. "I prefer to think of it as being honest," I replied. "Will your boyfriend come and hear you sing like he did last term?" She asked. "Only on special occasions. He's an agnostic." I answered. At basketball nobody said anything, but I noticed a few significant nods and winks when people thought that I wasn't looking. However, my performance in the game that term improved significantly and this led towards the end of term to a few guffaws and remarks about how being fucked seemed to have improved my playing performance. Even when the lads had a few beers inside them, they still treated me very good-naturedly. I think a lot of this tolerance and good humour was traditional because of the high intellectual level of life in England's oldest university and the "don't ask, don't tell" mentality which emphasizes camaraderie in a society which inevitably has a higher-than-average percentage of homosexuals. My relationship with my tutor seemed unaffected by my embarrassing emotional outburst of the previous term, and my assignments seemed to go OK. When the Progress Test took place in the last week of term, I performed satisfactorily. The rest of the term passed and eventually I had to decide whether I was going to go home immediately after the end of term or whether I should stay in Camford and do some reading before Easter. Jon had said that his mother had expressed a desire to meet me, which had surprised him considerably, and he asked if he should make arrangements for us to pay a short visit to Nice during the Easter period. Of course I said yes, not out of a burning desire to meet his mother, but out of curiosity to see where she lived and to visit a part of Europe where I had never been. I was becoming a little worried that I seemed to be assuming an increasingly submissive role. I tended to let Jon decide the films we saw and I let him make the arrangements for the trip to France, when actually during vacations, he was busier than me. I insisted that we had a rota for dealing with the garbage and the laundry, otherwise I feared that either he would do it all himself and leave me with a "Curlilocks" role ('sit on a cushion... and feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream') or else subordinate me to doing all the household chores. I was very surprised that almost everyone who had commented on my gayness had assumed that I was the one being fucked, when in fact that was merely an arrangement that we had both agreed to the previous year because of Jon's fear of being damaged by my big dick. Maybe the viewpoint of strangers was due to my long blond wavy hair, whereas Jon's crew-cut looked more macho. Because Jon seemed to be frightened that an "Engineer's wheel" scenario ('she was split from arse to tit') would occur if my prick were to penetrate him, when he was not around, I tried on one of the condoms that I had bought in Amersfoort the year before. They proved to be significantly bigger and more comfortable than the ones that regularly entered my bowels. I felt sure that if we used enough lube and I took it very slowly, I could get inside him without damage, even if there were some pain. But my confidence in him and my love for him were such that I was sure that he would listen considerately to any suggestion of us changing our roles. After all, having tried both, we might find that one role suited us best, or arrange to take turns. And we both enjoyed 69, which we were becoming experts at. Admittedly, I had rather desperately indicated at Christmas how much I wanted him to fuck me, but I think the alcohol we had imbibed had made me more visceral and less cerebral than usual. So one Saturday towards the end of term, when we were back from our morning swim and we had put the washing into the machine and left it to run, Jon said to me: "Do you want some lunch now, or shall we go to bed?" "Bed" I said, "let's get undressed and then I want to talk to you." We adjourned to the bedroom and took our clothes off, turned back the sheets on the as yet unmade bed, and got into it. "Jon," I said "I would love to have a go at fucking you. I know that you are worried about the size of my tool, but I really think that with a lot of lube and much care on my part I could do it. I would certainly like to have a try. What do you think?" "My darling David" he said "I will do anything to make you happy." I wrapped my arms round him (we were sitting up) and kissed him hard on the lips. I slipped my hand down under the bedclothes and felt our tools, which were both rockhard. I climbed on top of him and continued kissing him and moved my lips down his chin, his neck and his chest. When I reached his bellybutton I stopped and nibbled it. I followed his treasure trail down and nuzzled him in his thick dark pubic bush beside his hard member and reached for the bedside drawer and opened the packet of Dutch condoms. I slipped one onto my dick and took out the lube. "We're going to need a lot of this so that I can get you really easy to enter" I said. Jon spread his legs obligingly. "Actually," I said "I want to do it in the doggie position, but lying as you are it's easier to put the lube on." I grabbed the towel out of the drawer (we always kept a towel and tissues there in the drawer in case they were needed), and pushed the towel underneath his arse. I started to apply the lube to his perineum, and easing his legs further apart so that his anus was exposed, I was able to apply a thick dollop of lube to his hole and then checking that my fingernails were short, I started to push a small quantity of lube into his hole with one finger. I wiggled the finger around and spread the lube as much as I could. I then put some lube on my middle finger and introduced two fingers into him and again spread it around, stretching them slightly to ease his sphincter and I then did it again with my third finger and by then I had stretched him sufficiently for him to feel that it was not going be agony when I actually got inside. I then lifted his legs over the side of the bed and he stood up. He turned round and bent over against the bed. I hopped out of bed, spread yet more lube on to the rubber on my man-pole and gently pushed it between the cheeks of his arse. He bent forward as much as he could and I gently eased it, pushing hard initially until I could feel his ring relax slightly and the tip of my prick just managed to get within him. "How are you feeling" I asked "does it hurt?" "Just a bit" he said. "Just carry on and we'll see what happens." I continued to push gently until I was perhaps 5 cm inside him. He was gasping a little and I could feel a certain tenseness in the surrounding muscles. "Just relax," I said. I pulled out by a couple of centimetres just to make sure the lubricant was working and when I could feel that it was running smoothly, I continued to push again. Because I am rather ignorant of the internal anatomy of the gut and because my prick is rather a big one I was not quite sure how far I could go without hurting him or doing him some kind of injury, but I reckoned that if I went at least as deep as the length of the condom, even though my pubic hair would still not have reached his hole, it might well be deep enough for a first attempt. So I pushed gently and got to that point. "How is it now?" I asked. "Okay" he said. So I started slowly but gently to move my dick to and fro in his sphincter, the tip going quite deeply at its deepest point and never completely emerging as I withdrew. Because of the relatively slow speed it took quite some time for things to happen. I began to speed up after a few minutes when it became apparent that he was not suffering any pain, and it was clear that it would not be long before I was ready to shoot. A couple more minutes of gentle fucking and I could feel my loins tensing and I knew that it was about to happen. Suddenly with a gasp and a yelp I explosively came and I could feel my hot come jetting out into the condom. I wrapped my arms more tightly around his belly and kissed his back numerous times. I had actually been quite close to him during the whole of the time and was not standing up. My chest was pushed up against his back and my belly against his arse-cheeks. I pulled myself even tighter towards him as I kissed him and said to him "Was that okay? My own Jon, I love you so much." I could feel my dick slowly softening and I gently and slowly withdrew it from his hole. He stood up with his legs over the side of the bed and fell face down. I walked round to the other side of the bed and climbed up and lay on my back beside him. "How was it for you?" I asked in the age-old words. "In the other age-old words" he said "I think that you are indeed a randy bugger." "Jon" I said "I did really enjoy that. Would you like me to suck you?" "Yes, baby" he said "suck my dick!" "You can't call me baby" I said "I've just taken your anal virginity! Call me randy stud!" "Watch out, or I might call you sugar-puff!" he said. I went back to that deep tangle of soft black hair out of which his very respectably sized dick was projecting like a submarine's periscope. I licked the tip before putting it into my mouth. I savoured its slimy warmth and chewed it gently. Jon began to push it and I opened my mouth fully and let him fuck my mouth vigorously until after a few minutes, he cried "David!" and ejaculated violently several times, and I struggled to swallow mouthful after mouthful of his warm white blood. I put my hand on his sticky belly and lay beside him, gasping for breath. "My lovely, lovely man! Thank you, thank you, thank you." Jon smiled tenderly. "Thank YOU" he said. "Jon," I replied "You have no idea what that fuck has done for my self-esteem. I feel that I am a real man and not an overgrown adolescent with a big cock. Now I know that I can do it, I am quite happy to let you shag me whenever you want. On the other hand, I would love to take a turn at poking your back hole." "My virginity loss was much more enjoyable than I ever expected," he said. "I think that you can take credit for your gentleness and sweetness. My boy may be happy to feel himself a man, but to me you will still be my sweet boy when you're 50!" Within ten minutes we were at it again, this time just face to face with me on top squirting over our bellies and chests. We cleaned ourselves up under the shower, made the bed and went to the pub for a late lunch. I was ravenous, and Jon ate more than usual. Chapter 25 David Jon had booked us into an hotel in Nice to avoid inconveniencing his mother. We had a nice double room with two queen-size beds on the same floor as the hotel swimming pool, which unusually had fresh water in it. He telephoned his mother to announce our arrival and she invited us to come round that afternoon for tea. She lived in a large villa where she occupied one floor and there were other tenants above and below her flat. She was in her fifties, dark-haired like her son and she worked part-time as a translator. Sometimes she worked at home, but mostly in an office. When we arrived she was sitting at a table on the terrace outside her rooms that bore cups, saucers and plates. "Mother, may I introduce David Scarborough?" he said formally. To my surprise I noticed that as we stepped onto the terrace, her gaze was focused on my crotch. Most women look first at my hair. Her reply was anything but formal. "So you're my son's nancy-boy!" she said. "Come and sit beside me and tell me what he's like in bed!" I sat in the chair beside her, my face the colour of beetroot. "He makes me very happy." I said. "You're better endowed than he is" she said. "Have you tried it with him yet?" How did this woman guess what we had been up to? I blushed again. "Yes, as it happens" I said. "I thought as much. You're not as pansyish as you look. Have you ever thought that you could make a woman very happy with what you've got in those pants of yours!" "That equipment is not available to anyone except Jonathan." I replied. "I don't know how to please a woman, I do know what a man wants." "All you need to do to please a woman" she said "is to be yourself. You've got all that you need between your legs!" I realized then that she was flirting with me, so I rose to the challenge. "Jonathan," she said. "Go and make the tea, everything is ready in the kitchen." Jon did as he was told. His mother bent forward and said to me "I'd like you to come to dinner with me tonight. Just you, Jon can spend the evening at the hotel with his spreadsheets, or there's a couple of gay bars in the Rue des Pauvres if he fancies a shag." At that moment Jon called me to carry one of the tea-trays. "She's trying to get you into bed with her" he said. "Like me, she suspects that deep down you are bi. She'll tell you that any man can perform if he's helped by an experienced woman." "Why should I want to fuck a woman ten years older than my mother?" I asked. "Don't ask me that, ask her" he replied. We carried the two trays out on to the terrace. "Well, are you coming to dinner?" she asked. "You can tell me all about yourself." "Not unless Jon comes as well," I said, "he's your son, after all." "He's boring because he's gay" she said. "Most women like the company of gay men, because they don't feel threatened or tempted" I said. "Yes that's just it. I like being threatened or tempted." "Well, you can forget me. I'm neither a threat nor a temptation, and I'm only interested in rear entry" I said. "You're ten years older than my mother. Need I say any more?"