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Max and Me

by c m

Chapter 17

The wisdom of Max coming to England became clear when a reporter knocked on the door on the morning of our departure, but he given short shrift by Lisl, and two hours later, Max and I were airborne and on our way to England. During the flight we talked about what we would tell James. Max was adamant that we tell him the truth – not all the details, but the truth about his detention and torture.

"Are you sure, Max?"

"Yes, Chris. We're the closest of friends – and anyway, he needs to know. If we play squash he will need to know why my body looks like this – and why we aren't having sex." He grinned.

I guessed he was right. Even now after nearly two weeks, the marks from his beating were still evident as red lines across his body and the bruises, although faint, were still there for anyone to see if he took a shower.

My parents picked us up from Heathrow. They had a few questions but were smart enough not to enquire too closely. Max and I had agreed that we would have a week at home then head down to Cornwall for three weeks - then have another week at home afterwards. With a bit of luck, we'd be able to resume a full sex life for the last week or so that we were away, and he would be fully-recovered long before it was time for him to return to Germany.

It was lovely having Max back in my room – and in my bed. We each sucked one another off that night – but once was about all Max was up to for the moment. I didn't care. I had him with me and we could hold each other close and that was enough.

James came round the next day. Mum and Dad had told him that I had gone to Germany because Max was in hospital - but that was all he knew.

"Hi Max! What was wrong with you? Hope you are all better now – and lovely to see you."

He came and gave Max a hug – and James saw him flinch as he did so.

"Wow…sorry, Max. Are you OK?"

"Just a little bruised, James. But lovely to see you too."

Max looked at me and nodded.

"James," I began, "Max was in hospital because he was abducted and held prisoner for four days until the police found him by someone who also tortured and raped him. Over and over again."

James just stared. "Oh my God, Max. What…how…oh my god."

He took hold of Max gently and hugged him

"It's all OK now, James. I'm almost all healed."

"How could anyone do that to you Max. And why?"

So I told him the story.

James could scarcely believe it.

"I'm so pleased you're alright, Max. How are you feeling? Are you well enough for a game of squash before you guys head down to Cornwall?"

"I'd like to at least try, James."

"OK, I'll see if I can book something for tomorrow."

James managed to get a court and we all met up there the following day. I could see James looking at Max as we got changed and I saw the look on his face as he saw the remains of the beatings Max had been given.

It was soon clear that Max really wasn't well enough yet to be competitive, and in the end he settled for watching James and me from the balcony. We had our usual close match – which he won by the odd game in the end. As we showered, James could see the full extent of Max's injuries and he just came over and hugged him.

As we drove home afterwards, I asked James how his love life at Durham had gone the previous term. He grinned at me.

"I never imagined it was possible to have as much sex as I've been having. I've met a nice girl called Carol who wants to do nothing but screw – and then I still see Paul from time to time who also just wants to be fucked although not so much now that…well…now that I have Steve as well, of course, who is always horny."

"And do you and Steve…?"

James blushed slightly. "Umm…yes…mostly we just blow each other but…well…in fact, we're rather enjoying shagging each other from time to time as well."

"Blimey, James. That we should see the day…"

"I know. But sex is….sex, isn't it? In all its wonderful forms."

Once home I went to make us all coffee while James and Max headed into the family room. When I returned with three steaming mugs, it was clear that Max and James had been in deep conversation.

"Chris," said Max, "James and I have been talking. As we know, you can't be inside me for at least another four weeks. And as we also know, at one time you and James talked about maybe doing that with each other. Now - and don't interrupt - James would quite like to reopen that conversation; and I want to let you know that I would be very happy if that's what you two would like to do."

I put the mugs down.

"Are you serious, James? You want us to…go all the way?"

James spread his hands. "I know, Chris, I know. It's not how I felt when we last discussed it but…well…things are different now. I like it when Steve…is in me. And yes…I would really like to know what it's like to have you in me too. If you are OK with the idea."

I stopped to think. This was not what I expected at all. James was my best friend, and yes, we had wanked and sucked each other. But this? And did he want to do it back to me too? It wasn't that I didn't find the idea…interesting or that I didn't find him quite sexy. But…

Max came and put an arm round me. "It's OK Chris. Honestly."

"James, if I…do you… will you want to do it to me in return?"

"Only if you want me to, Chris. There are no conditions attached."

I thought about it, and I suddenly knew with perfect clarity what I wanted. "Are you sure about that, James? Because, and I'm sorry, I don't want you inside me. I belong to Max – and right now I belong to him exclusively. Are you really OK about that?"

"Chris. You are my best friend. Even if we regret doing it, you will still be my best friend – but I don't think I will regret it. And yes, I mean it…if you don't want me inside you that's fine. Genuinely."

"See Chris? It will be OK," Said Max. "I am going to watch some television while you two go upstairs. Now go."

I have rarely felt so torn, but I knew what was in my head. I knew what was right.

"No, Max. And sorry, but 'no', James."

"Why not, Chris?"

I put my arms round Max's shoulders and looked into those beautiful blue eyes.

"Because, Max, I don't want sex with anyone but you right now. I love you and I'm not sleeping with anyone else. No matter how much I love them or how I feel about them." I turned to James.

"James…it's not that I don't want to, it's just…"

He put his fingers on my lips.

"It's OK, Chris. I understand. And you know what? You're right. And it's what makes you 'you'."

I could see tears in Max's eyes as he just nodded.

And that was the end of that conversation.

An hour or so later, after James had gone, and while Max and I were watching some more TV, Max turned to me and said,

"Thank you, my lion. It meant so much to me when you said that to James..."

I kissed him…and then were kissing deeply. I eventually broke the contact.

"Umm…Max…I don't know if you feel like it…but right now the part of me that is only for you badly needs you in it."

Five seconds later we were racing upstairs. In my room we stripped and Max pushed me back onto the bed. I had never seen him so hungry for me as he bent my legs back over my head and entered me in one long thrust. What followed was urgent and sweaty and when he came it was in what seemed like an endless succession of thrusts as he kicked and bucked inside me.

Afterwards he held me so tightly I could scarcely breathe.

"Oh Chris…when Klaus was…doing what he did to me…I thought I would never be doing this again with you. I love you so much."

"I love you too Max. And that was wonderful."

When he pulled out of me I could feel what seemed like a river of his cum flowing out of me. And my hole felt sore. Lack of practice, I thought.

But practice was certainly what I got over the next few weeks. We had lots of oral sex, and although I couldn't fuck Max, there was no reason why he couldn't fuck me. And I found I wanted him to do so increasingly often – and he seemed to enjoy it more and more as well.

Cornwall, when we got there, was as spectacularly beautiful as ever, and the weather was almost as kind to us as it had been the previous year. We sunbathed naked, our bodies turning gold and brown in the heat of the summer sun, with all traces of Max's ordeal gone from his body. We walked along the beach, dressed only in our shorts, holding hands. We swam to our private beach where Max entered me one sunlit evening as the tide came in. We swam back afterwards, my body still glowing inside.

After ten days, while Max was lying on the couch in the lounge, he suddenly sat up.

"Chris – I've been counting and it's been four weeks and…well…you know what I want. Or want to try anyway."

"Are you sure, Max? I don't want to risk doing any damage."

"We'll never know until we try, will we? Or maybe you don't want to be inside me anymore…."

I went over and kissed him. 'If that ever happens, Max, you can castrate me with a blunt penknife.'

He pulled me to him and I could feel his hardness through his shorts.

"Come on then, let's go upstairs and find out."

We both stripped off our shorts and Max lay down on the bed. I took the pot of oil from the bedside drawer and dipped my finger in it. I put it against his entrance.

"Tell me if it hurts, Max. If it does, we stop – agreed? No 'being brave' nonsense, OK?"

"OK, Chris."

I pressed my finger against him and felt it slide easily inside. Max didn't even flinch.

"So far so good, my lion. More please."

I finger-fucked him gently before adding a second finger. All Max did was sigh with pleasure.

"Looks like the surgeons did a great job, Max."

"Mmhmm. I want your cock in me, my lion. I have missed it so much."

I oiled myself up and put the tip of my cock against him. As I pushed inside, Max let out a little grunt of pain.

"Don't stop, Chris. I'm not being brave…it's not hurting or tearing…just a little uncomfortable after all this time."

"OK, if you're sure, Max."

I continued to press into him ever deeper until my balls were tight up against his bottom.

"Oh yes, my Chris…oh yes."

Despite Max's assurances that everything was OK, I took it gently – but when I finally erupted inside him it was as with an urgency that I couldn't control – my body nearly jack-knifing with the release. Afterwards, as I lay spent beside him, Max told me that I had growled as I came - but I didn't remember that.

"You truly were my lion, Chris. And now…again please" He grinned.

"I guess you really are healed up, aren't you?"

The second time was totally uninhibited, Max riding me like a whirlwind, bouncing up and down on me and yelling with uninhibited pleasure. I masturbated him as he did so and we came almost simultaneously – his cum flying in long white ropes over my chest and chin as I emptied myself inside him for a second time.

"Oh Chris, my Chris. I have missed this so much. So very much."

I pulled him down onto my chest and we kissed, his cum sticky between us. And then tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"What's the matter, Max?"

"Oh Chris…I was so afraid that this would never happen again. That either I wouldn't be able to or that I'd find I couldn't after what Klaus did to me. But I can…and it's wonderful – better than ever in fact. I love you so much, Chris."

"And I love you too, Max."

We made love for a third time later on – a long, slow celebration of our endless hunger for one another – and then we slept, Max cuddled up close against me. We must have dozed for an hour or so before I came to. Max was still snuggled up against me, fast asleep. I stroked his hair. Eventually he opened one eye.

"That feels so nice, Chris."

"I love lying naked with you – even when we don't do stuff. Just having you here beside me is magical, Max."

He reached a hand down between my legs.

"You can't want to do it again, Max?"

"Why not? I've been a virgin for nearly six weeks." He moved himself half on top of me and kissed me. "And you turn me on so much - and I'm still horny as hell."

Despite my misgivings, I felt myself harden at his touch – and then he was straddling me and taking me inside him again and…well, the rest was predictable. When I slipped wetly out of him, my balls were definitely aching.

"If you want any more, it's going to have to be you doing it to me."

"Goody," was all he said.

And so he did it to me. Twice.

There isn't much more to tell, really. We had a wonderful time in Cornwall and then I went back to Frankfurt with Max for a week. We had some fun with Hansi, all three of us, but somehow Max and I both knew that something had changed.

Maybe what we did with Hansi was the catalyst, but we started to talk a lot about what we did with other guys when we were apart – and we both decided that it had to stop. I don't know whether it was Max's abduction, or whether it was just that we had grown even closer together, but I just knew that I didn't want – and wouldn't need – sex with anyone but Max ever again. In some ways it was easier for me; Dan had graduated so I wouldn't be open to temptation with him, but I knew it was harder for Max. Hansi was very much still around. But Max was adamant that we would both be totally faithful to one another.

We had one last session with Hansi after which Max took him aside and explained how things needed to be. Hansi proved what a lovely guy and a real friend he was by instantly accepting it.

"I am just so grateful for the fun I have had with both of you. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I have had sex with two of the sexiest boys in the world – how can I have any regrets. And what you have decided is right. I hope we can still be friends."

"Of course, Hansi. The best of friends."

We hugged, and we kissed and that was it. And we did remain the best of friends, all three of us.

And Max and I stuck to our promise to one another. We made up for lost time during the vacations when we visited one another. Oh boy did we make up – and there was one magical week in the Summer term when Max came to Oxford to set up his exchange year. Quite a few guys in College knew I was gay by then, but many more probably did by the time Max left. We fucked like rabbits during that week. Noisy rabbits. Very, very noisy rabbits.

And when we weren't doing that, Max was charming my friends with his easy manner, his engaging wit and his smile that could melt a heart at fifty paces. I even introduced him to Lucy who fell for him at once and who he, in turn, absolutely adored. And Max also had news of Hansi; he had found a lovely long-term boyfriend and they were both very happy. I was pleased for him.

As for James, whatever we may have thought he was becoming, that same summer he found a lovely girl who captured his heart and all of a sudden he was entirely, and heterosexually, monogamous. They both came and stayed with Max and me for a weekend at the Lodge in Cornwall. Helen was a lovely girl and we soon became firm friends - and remain so to this day. And although James and I sometimes reminisce about the relationship we had, neither of us has ever felt any desire to revisit the time when it briefly had a sexual side to it.

After the summer holiday, Max and I went to Oxford to look for a flat to share for the year that he was going to be in England. We found a lovely place just outside the city centre –which his parents insisted on paying the rent for. That whole year – my final year at Oxford - was magical. Max and I became a fully-fledged couple – living, eating and sleeping together and falling ever more deeply in love. Some couples once they actually move in together seem to lose the passion; not with Max and me. If anything, our sex life became even more all-consuming. We made love at every available opportunity – sometimes quick and urgent, Max with his trousers round his ankles as I took him over the table - sometimes long and slow. Some Sundays we didn't move from the bed until finally, filled at both ends with one another's cum, we'd stagger into the shower and then cook up whatever was in the fridge as a (very) late lunch to restore our strength.

My finals came and went and I got a very good second – which given the amount of time I had spent playing University and College hockey over my time there was a minor miracle. Oh, and I forgot to say that I got my hockey Blue in both my second and third years, drawing with Cambridge first time and winning (hurrah!) on the second.

Max had to go back to Germany to finish the final year of his course. Having graduated a few months earlier, I went with him. My German was pretty fluent by then and I got a job with an international bank in Frankfurt. Once Max had graduated, he decided he wanted to teach and so we spent another year there while he qualified. Then, out of the blue, the bank wanted me to take up a post in London. Max was happy to move and he found himself a teaching post at a school in the city without any problem. By now I was earning good money and we bought a lovely flat overlooking the river. We also started playing hockey for the same club, initially for the first XI - with whom, one year, we won the National title - and now, as time takes its toll, in the second XI.

And while our environments and circumstances have changed, the one thing that hasn't is our love for one another. Max is now a deputy head and I'm a VP in a (different) bank - but we still can't keep our hands off one another; deep down inside we are still the horny teenagers that we were when we met all those years ago.

On Sundays we stay in bed late – very late - and make love to each other. Sometimes passionately, sometimes slowly, but it always end up with us lying there just holding each other.

The occasional scratch marks on my back, or a bleeding lip, or a nip on my foreskin are prices I deem well worth paying for the intensity of the love-making that has led to them. Although no longer in our teens, we are both athletic, fit young men who love sex. The result is usually sweaty, often noisy and always messy – and I'm grateful for the solid concrete construction of the walls and floors in our apartment that at least prevent us from disturbing the neighbours. If the weather's good, Max also enjoys having sex on the balcony – his exhibitionist tendencies relishing the theoretical possibility that those walking the street some hundred feet below us might be able to see us making love.

I can't imagine life without him.

Whilst not trumpeting it from the rooftops, Max and I are perfectly open about being gay and a couple. At the bank this isn't a problem – and I take Max along as my partner to all the company functions. My boss tells me that actually it's quite good for business, as gay clients are happy to see that the bank is genuinely tolerant – indeed supportive – of gay men. And it's mostly the same story for Max; there are some parents, inevitably, who seem to confuse being gay with being a child molester, but they are in a tiny minority. Max's openness and charm wins over parents, staff and pupils alike – and the gay pupils couldn't have had a finer role model; they, in particular, adore him.

James is still our best friend – and I'm godfather to his son. Hansi has been to visit with his boyfriend, and we had a lovely weekend showing them round London. When we go to Germany to visit Max's family, we sometimes see Sigi – who, inevitably, still tries to persuade us that we want to have sex with him.

We exchange Christmas cards with Jamie and Steve, both of whom are married. Jamie told us that Steve and his wife are both openly bisexual, and that they both, with the other's consent, have same-sex partners outside their marriage.

And then there's Tim. Tim has a partner - a lovely guy called Fabio who he met in his final year at York; Fabio is half-Italian, and his jet black hair and olive skin couldn't be more of a contrast with Tim's flame-red hair and pale complexion. They, too, have come to visit us and we count them amongst our closest friends.

As for Matt and Jonathan, they duly took up their places at Oxford. They seemed to be a devoted couple for the year for which we crossed over, and they occasionally visited Max and me in our flat. We lost contact with them when we moved to Germany, but I later heard that they split up during their second year - although I never discovered the details. I sometimes wonder if we'll bump into Matt again in Cornwall one day - but it hasn't happened so far.

Max's parents and mine have met up on three or four occasions now; they get on really well together, which makes Max and me very happy. And he and I have each become a second son to the other's parents. So life is good - and long may it remain that way. Looking back, it all seems a world away from that Sunday afternoon in the bath at school, when a wonderful boy first showed me what I was - and taught me how to celebrate it.

…and Max and I still go and put flowers by his plaque in the churchyard outside Newbury each Easter.

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