Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing;
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.

Unlike most of my stories this one will occasionally dwell on sexual activity since it is essential to the plot. Remember: no one is forcing you to read on.

What's the opposite of 'ships that pass in the night'? Ships moored all day in harbour? That flippant reply doesn't answer the question, and the notion is not so flippant either, for most of my loves, more precisely passions or infatuations, were nothing but ships that passed in the night. Rick was different. He returned again and again. Perhaps like the Flying Dutchman he had to spend seven years at sea before returning to port. Was this latest infatuation finally love?

The first time I set eye on him I knew he was different, special. Since the age of thirteen I had made it my business to 'inspect' the newcomers at school and 'assess' them for any value as eye candy. Then I would attempt to get to know them for their personality would trump appearance on any occasion, but a combination of personality and appearance was the ultimate in my expectations. Of course his blond hair, blue eyes and sinewy, muscular appearance immediately caught my attention, but there was something else residing in that face and from his shyness I knew it would take work and time to elicit it. Whether at that time he was conscious of the fact that he could win anyone or everyone over with the glad eye was beyond my ken, whether he knew he was something special was a secret he kept to himself, but later I was to find out that in no way was he 'cheap' and that he reserved himself for his chosen few. And so there was Rick, reserved in my mind, reserved in his nature, and reserved for the one whom he wanted, not for the one that wanted him.

As I got to know Rick better, through rugby training at first, I realised he was an accomplished sportsman, an all-rounder. Our school encouraged senior boys to help out with younger ones in various activities. One of my joys was our twice weekly practice sessions. In his sports kit he always looked pristine, but to my chagrin he never gave anything away, and I always avoided the younger boys' changing room to prevent gossip, accusations or insinuations, much as I enjoyed the ambience, that indefinable and intoxicating cocktail of odours, of boy sweat, both fresh and rank, emanating from boy bodies, boy shirts and boy jockstraps, the cheesy smells of boy feet and boy smegma, of Deep Heat and horse liniment, all undefeated and enhanced by the floor's weekly swabbing with Jeye's fluid, and, of course, its endemic attractive boy sights. The closet does impose its own discipline. Unfortunately the rugby season inevitably reaches its close and occasionally on a good day thereafter I would catch fleeting glimpses of him in cricket whites, and so yet another ship had passed in the night. There were always plenty more queuing up behind.

The next occasion Rick lay at anchor was two years later when I became the form prefect of his tutor group. It seems so unfortunately early in life that, for me at least, a boy often reaches the zenith of his beauty at the age of fourteen. He possesses the lithesome body of a young man, more attractive than the maturity of the twenties, the enquiring mind of youth unfettered by the certainties of later life. I was only able to prevent myself from staring at him throughout our 'contact time' because he was in the company of so many other attractions unconsciously vying for attention, and more vociferous too. But he remained the Adonis and despite his unassuming quietness he did not miss out on attention. At the end of that year our ways parted for I was to seek pastures new at university. They were a good bunch of lads in that class and I still have after all these years the book they presented to me, signed by each one. Another sign of the trust they held me in was when one classmate informed me of the goings-on at a weekend party. I knew about Jack breaking his ankle as he tried to climb a fence during some horseplay. I didn't know till then that Rick had given Ollie a blowjob at the same occasion. It confirmed what I had suspected about Ollie, but that's another story already told elsewhere. Rick, however, that was a different matter, astonishing, something I could only have wished for, heartening, encouraging. Of all the people... It was a surprise beyond all expectation that he had joined the faithful few who, after the freedom of the summer holidays had been granted, had made the effort to come and take a personal farewell. So a spark had been ignited and I was left with an enduring vision of him in his neat and well-fitting summer school uniform which proved more revealing than his sports kit ever had. Adolescents I adore, petite adolescents even more so. Rick was self-contained in body and in character. That day he opened the door on himself by a crack. I recognised a flash of personal loyalty there which he had never chosen to reveal before. It touched my heart.

And so for my own good I tried to forget Rick, and many others. The fact that I 'tried' implies that I failed. Our next encounter would take place some three years later in a local menswear shop. He had come in to buy a large spotted handkerchief for use as a bandanna on his forthcoming trip to India. Had his mother not been there I would have hugged him, so overjoyed was I, but I was still restrained by my past. We chatted, perhaps more precisely, I chatted him up, but in passing I half jokingly asked him to send a postcard, thinking no more about it until one August morning a card showing the snow clad mountain of McLeod Ganj in the foothills of the Himalayas arrived on my doormat.

I avidly read the card and imagine my surprise when it ended with the words 'Love Richard'. Yes, 'Richard' - that hard, protective and reserved exterior was still intact, but a hard exterior is only there to protect a soft kernel and I had now been offered a glimpse of that soft centre in the word 'Love'. Of course I thought about it; in fact for the rest of the day I was obsessed by it, but finally ascribed my newly found passion to an overactive imagination, put it to the back of my mind and only brought it to the fore some time later when I sent him a postcard as a form of acknowledgement from my own holiday, and I will not deny that ending with 'love' and sticking an address label with telephone number was not innocently intended as a means of providing the Post Office with a return address should the card's delivery fail. Ground bait my father would have called it, but I was not that optimistic. Indeed I did not expect anything to come of it. After all Rick had my address and I formed part of the foolish and dwindling minority who have their number placed in the telephone directory.

And so it was an eventual ring of the telephone that shook me out of my humdrum existence. At first I did not recognise the caller's ID; within seconds I was cursing my own ineptitude.
"Why, Rick, how marvellous to hear from you. What are you up to these days?"
"I'm in town tomorrow, Tim. Would you like to meet?" Would I like to meet?
"Yes, great. You say when."
"Starbucks, four o'clock."
"Ottakar's is better. The best coffee in town. Wait, I've got an even better idea. Why don't you come and have tea out here with me?"
"Yeah, fine."
"Have you got transport."
"I can catch a bus."
"Okay, do you know how to get here?"
"I've got a fair idea, but I'll get a map off the computer. I've got your postcode."
"Great. I've got nothing on, so you can stay as long as you like and I'll take you home."
"Okay, that'll save me depending on a neighbour. See you tomorrow. Bye" When he'd put the receiver down I automatically blew a kiss down the mouthpiece. I wrote 'tea and cakes' down on my LWF pad. (LWF? Oh, lest we forget.)

I spent the rest of the day racking my brains as to why he wanted to come and see me, but getting no further. I could think of a hundred and one reasons why I wanted to see him, most of which could be summed up in the word 'lust'. It wasn't a longing back to those days on the rugby pitch or in the tutor group. It was back to that day a year or so ago when a handsome young man walked so unexpectedly into the men's outfitters. The sap was rising and that was not all that rose. So was my curiosity about that event at the party all those years ago. Then my mind did go back to the rugby era and the deep purple underwear he used to wear. Complete and utter passion killers. I'd never seen the like before. I wonder where his mother used to buy it, for he must have had several sets. The next morning I would set about procuring scones, cream, strawberry jam (Frank Cooper's Oxford preserve, of course) and fresh cream cakes. I had a good feeling about the morrow and everything had to be just right. I just had to agonise over what I was going to wear, and didn't I need to get my hair cut?

I didn't each lunch that day. I wanted to enjoy the tea as well as Rick's company. I could only think about one thing and once all the preparations had been made I could not settle to anything. At three I went upstairs to shower. As I stood in front of the mirror I decide my pubic hair needed a trim and I also shaved the hair off my balls and the underside of my dick. I don't know why, as only I would be conscious of the fact, but it made me feel good. I selected my underwear with care. It had to be briefs in case I let myself down. After all I had at various times in the morning and that was only in anticipation of meeting him. I couldn't be seen to pop a boner in his presence. Anyway, knowing my inbuilt timidity everything would shrivel at the ring of the doorbell and I would feel anything but masculine. After I dried myself I carefully applied a thin layer of baby oil on my equipment, growing hard at the feeling and the sheen on my genitals. I quickly drew on a brand new pair HomNo1s, pure white cotton, and used the horizontal fly to arrange myself. A blue short sleeved shirt, then I pulled on a clean pair of 501s, always a good standby. Everything in the sitting-room and kitchen was ready. I just had to compose myself.

I switched the television on. I could watch Countdown to occupy my mind until he arrived. It was the quarter finals of the series and my heart rose and sank. One of the competitors was Conor Travers, absolutely fantastic. Now aged fourteen he had beaten eight adults to become number one seed after apparently swallowing the dictionary and being a wizard at the numbers game and the conundrum. He had appeared several months ago and he was hot, and I don't mean just at Countdown. He had neatly cut jet black hair, blue eyes and a smile to kill for; and in everything he did he acted with the utmost modesty. But now, horror of horrors, he was going through a bad puberty. He had grown his hair and was scruffy. On the good side his voice had broken and taken on that grating adolescent huskiness which melts me and mentally he was as sharp as ever. I set the video in case I missed the end of the programme. Despite all that he enhanced my mood in preparation for meeting Rick. The front door bell rang and I switched the TV set off. I made a dash for the door and opened it ready to embrace Rick and found standing there the milkman, who had come to collect his money. I'd forgotten which day it was. Wouldn't you under those circumstances?

As the milkman left I happened to look down the road and spotted Rick walking along. I ran down to meet him, and damn what the lace curtain twitchers might say, I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, a kiss which he returned on my lips, which pleased me for although he must now be in his early twenties and there were not that many years between us I still felt more comfortable if the younger made the initial running, at least until the first night together. We walked back our arms round each other's waist. If anyone says anything I'll tell them he's my brother, even though the veteran curtain twitchers might conclude that I came from rather a large family, and all boys at that! We chatted gaily as we walked towards the house. I took Rick's coat, hung it up and led him into the sitting-room. He took a seat on the settee. We talked about old times, the people we both knew and things that had happened. I still had one burning question I wanted to ask him, but considered it premature - about his relationship with Ollie. After an hour I got up to make the tea and laid a coffee table, which I place in front of the settee, with goodies. With everything prepared and set out I went and sat down beside him on the settee and the feast began. At first we had the important task of eating, but as the plates grew emptier and our stomachs fuller we relaxed more. I removed the table and its accompaniments and returned to the sofa. The body language of both of us was complementary with little fleeting touches here and there and eventually an arm round the shoulders. It had imperceptibly grown dark while we were talking and finally I had to get up to put the lights on and draw the curtains.
"I didn't realise it was so late," he said.
"If you like, I'll stand you dinner before I take you home."

We prepared to go out and started the five minute trek to the local hostelry which would provide a good hot meal without any fuss. I drank half of shandy, knowing that I would have to drive Rick home and the country lanes leading to his village weren't the easiest in daylight, let alone the dark, and were often single track with passing places. I asked Rick if he wanted another drink. It was about ten and he said
"No, thanks. I'd better get home. My parents are at a big book fair in Germany and I have to feed the goldfish." I laughed.

We walked back to my house to fetch Rick's things and to get the car. On the journey up the escarpment I said
"Rick, do you mind if I ask you something personal?"
"Go ahead," he said stroking the inside of my leg with his hand, "but I might not answer." Out of the corner of my eye I could see the coquettish look on his face.
"Do you remember that party all those years ago at Ollie's when Jack broke his ankle?"
"How could I forget?"
"I was told you gave Ollie a blowjob. Is that true?"
"Yep, my very first one. It was a dare in a way. I think the non-alcoholic punch had gone to our heads. It wasn't so much a dare as an opportunity. Ollie and me had talked about doing it before, but this seemed a chance too good to miss and Ollie was more keen than me."
"Did you enjoy it?" I asked, more for something to say than wanting to know.
"Not really when you've got all your mates there and you're just doing it for a dare, but it made us want to do it again, properly and in private, and then we did enjoy it, and we did it that same night. While everyone else was asleep in their sleeping bags downstairs I went upstairs with Ollie and we locked ourselves in his room. It was a defining moment, like having your first wank. It not only proved to me what I'd suspected for a long time."
"What? That you were gay?"
"Not only that, but that I enjoyed being gay. You probably knew there weren't any girls at that party." I nodded as we waited to give way at a road junction. "There were one or two other couples there as well."
"Ben and Jack?"
"They would have been if Jack hadn't had to go to hospital."
"David and...?"
"David and anybody who would have him and Juan B... didn't survive the night unscathed either."
"I can understand that," I said. "Many's the time I stopped him from being molested."
"I didn't know that," said Rick. "How was that?"
"I controlled myself."
"Ho ho ho," said "the old one's are the best ones," and he gave me a playful punch on the arm.
"Where were Ollie's parents during all this?"
"They were spending the night in the granny flat so that they were on hand, but not seeming to interfere."
"And his brother and sisters?"
"Dunno. We didn't see them." We'd reached the top of the escarpment and didn't talk while I navigated the winding lanes, except for Rick to tell me where to turn off and where the passing places were. Finally we reached the well hidden village in the valley and I parked on the drive in front of Rick's house. "Coffee?" he asked.

He led me into the kitchen while he made the coffee.
"We'll take it up to my room," he announced, putting everything on a tray and getting me to switch the lights on or off as appropriate. He had a large room, obviously from the boxed steel girder across the ceiling originally two and knocked into one. "This house used to be two cottages, but Mum and Dad had it made into one and modernised." The room was furnished as a bedsit and study. Rick put the tray on a table, then put on a CD. He went back downstairs and returned with two glasses of malt whisky.
"I can't drink that and drive," I protested.
"You can't drive," he said as he sat down beside me on the sofa.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, where are your car keys?" I felt in my pockets. "You left them on the side in the kitchen and so I put them away safely." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You don't think I'd bring you all the way out here for nothing, especially after you've been so good to me. As you can see, it's a big bed - plenty of room for two."
"Cheers," I said and took a large sip of the malt. The decision had been made. "Have you fed the goldfish yet?"
"Oh, no. I must do that before we go to bed."
"You'd better go and do it now, lest you forget again," I said with a wicked look in my eye.

While Rick was out of the room I looked at the pictures he had on the wall . In the centre was a rugby team photograph with Rick the captain and me on the coaching staff. The selection was largely of boys taking part in various sporting activities, but closer inspection revealed the photographer's eye for lads not afraid of showing off their masculinity. I discovered myself unconsciously licking my lips as I looked at them, a sign, as I was well aware, which revealed my sexual interest. Goldfish fed, we snuggled up together on the sofa. The whisky had destroyed any inhibitions I might have had remaining and the coffee stimulated me so as to banish any feelings of tiredness. It felt cosy just sitting there in a loose embrace. There was no need to talk. It was visible for all to see that we were aroused. Finally we parted and Rick went and lay on his bed. I walked across and removed his socks. Our shoes we'd left downstairs. I leant over and unbuckled the belt on his trousers and was about to pull the zip down gently over his pulsating bulge when he said
"Tim, a gentleman always begins with a kiss." The come-on look on his face was simply to die for. We kissed. I could still taste the whisky on his tongue and that induced me to suck it, but that simply drove me on to want more. I could feel from his body that he was giving himself to me. We knelt together on the bed continuing our osculatory activity and Rick made to remove his polo shirt.
"Let me do that," I whispered in his ear. I lifted it over his head revealing a chest that was far better developed than when I last saw it, the pecs more rounded, the sixpack prominent. I asked him to unbutton my shirt and hoped that he would not be disappointed. I just had to suck his nipple, both fully erect and standing proud from his pecs, but first let's complete the removal of his trousers. I pulled the zip down and he deftly wriggled out of them. White Tommy Hilfiger briefs, finest thick cotton, covering a large but undefined bulge, marked by a telltale damp patch. He didn't buy those in this country, I thought to myself. No further for the moment. I'm here for the duration after all and I quickly slipped out of my own trousers. We lay side by side and I teased his right nipple with the tip of my tongue. The little groan he gave showed that he was in ecstasy.

It was light when we woke again lying naked side by side under the duvet. Rick drew the curtains. The sky was black, but standing out against this murky backdrop was a brilliant rainbow. We looked at each other and Rick gave me a sweet smile. We welcomed the rainbow as a good omen for our relationship. We were both sporting morning wood and in turn went to the bathroom to relieve ourselves. On return we gazed at one another. For years I had been inquisitive about other boys' tackle, not so much the size, rather the shape and style. Rick's balls, although not particularly large hung low in a long sac lying horizontal, while mine were held vertical in a tighter sac, and consequently his cock hung long and straight down and his foreskin completely covered the glans. What I lacked in length I made up for in thickness with my foreskin covering only most of the glans. Mine was pushed forward by my scrotum, making it possible for me to present a better bulge in my briefs, shorts and speedo. On the other hand Rick was a show-er with me a grower and when we were aroused there was little difference in length. I felt the weight of his balls, while he fondled mine, but only with the consequence of instant erections. We returned to bed and snuggled up to one another. It was nine o'clock before we felt ready to shower and dress. Rick had laid out a flannel, towel, soap, toothbrush and a razor for me in the bathroom.
"What about the stains on the sheets, Rick?" I enquired.
"Don't worry. I'll run them through the washing machine later. I don't think my parents will be taking DNA samples." We had to be finished with breakfast by ten when the home-help was due to arrive.

We sat opposite one another devouring our eggs, bacon and beans. As we looked into one another's eyes we both felt a longing. Sleeping together last night had been important for both of us, but our activities were confined to heavy petting and tacitly we knew we would gradually and eventually like to go on and enjoy the ultimate act of making love.
"Tim, we need to go away on holiday somewhere," suggested Rick and without further thought I agreed. At ten o'clock the cleaner arrived and the magic was broken... temporarily. After being introduced it was time for me to go, but not before a maternal
"And what's the state of your room like, Master Richard?"
"It's okay, Mrs Jones. If you'd like to start downstairs I'll tidy it up first."
"And did Master Tim sleep in the spare room?"
"No, Mrs Jones, he slept on the sofa in my room. We didn't want to put you to any bother." It was obviously time for my departure. Rick gave me back my car keys and accompanied me out to the drive. Before I climbed into the car he kissed me on the lips. They tasted of bacon and eggs.
As I closed the car door I heard a loud "Good morning, Richard" from the road. We both blushed.
"Morning, Mrs Bland," he called back. "That's the rector's wife."
"I wonder if she saw anything."
Rick shrugged his shoulders and giggled. "Don't worry. I'm out in the village."
"Do they approve?"
"It doesn't matter whether they approve of me. It's whether they approve of you that's important. Take care, my love," he said as I drove off. Another ship had passed in the night, but it had certainly given me something to think about, especially with its promise of a return bearing a rich cargo.

Back home later that day I wrote a note to Rick ostensibly to thank him for his hospitality, but in reality to return the love he had expressed for me. That would be an end to the matter until we exchanged Christmas cards. I took the note round to the post box, first class stamp for Rick, came back home and flopped down in my armchair. My mind ran over the previous twenty-four hours. My first thought was that I had lost control of the situation, not that I'm a control freak - or am I? In this, though, I didn't care. What had started out as an invitation to tea to renew an old acquaintance and discuss old times had opened the door to a sexual engagement, followed by a declaration of mutual affection, both of which I was fully unprepared for. Furthermore the lead had been taken by the younger of us. I would have been far more cautious, held back by my conscience for fear of bringing about hurt and committing abuse. Rick had penetrated my guard, albeit by guile, and we were both better people for it. Now it had happened once it could happen again and I had been so unprepared. This was followed by two trains of thought, firstly the mooted holiday together. Would it happen and how would our relationship develop? I realised however much I fantasised, nothing could be answered without Rick. Yes, I did want to shag him. No, this was Rick. Correction, I did want to make love to him, but not on the first night, but build up to it over days and nights doing lots of other things on the way. Secondly it was this idea of being unprepared. That was completely alien to me, and yes I was a control freak, at least as far as myself was concerned. There was something practical I could do about that. The following day I went shopping. I bought the largest child's lunchbox I could find, light blue plastic adorned with pictures of Bart Simpson. I'd listed the contents. A clean pair of Hom briefs, a face flannel, a throwaway razor, toothbrush and paste, a clean handkerchief, six extra-strength condoms, a tu be of K-Y gel and a plastic bag with £20 in a mixture of fivers and pound coins. Once back home I packed them and there was still room. Then I had an idea. I fetched my sewing-box. In it was a card of a half inch wide black elastic. I cut off a six inch length and sewed it into a loop. It needed testing for size, but it should make a perfect cockring. That night I tried it out, just right, effective without being too tight. I lusted over Rick during the trial, naturally. I could not get out of my mind's eye the sight of his smooth, hairless hole as he knelt on the bed, glistening with lube and waiting to take me. Sheer fantasy for we had yet to be that intimate. The next morning I finished packing the lunchbox, wound it round with sellotape to act as a seal to see whether it had been tampered with and put it in the boot of the car beside the first aid kit.

So the next communication was our exchange of Christmas cards. With Rick's came a short letter. '...I have not forgotten our suggestion about going on holiday together. My parents said we might like to go to the Baltic states while they're still developing after regaining their independence. I don't know what you think about that, but I think it might be an improvement on a fortnight in Benidorm with Club 18-30. Let me know what you think. Better still - come out here and we'll talk it over...' This goaded me into action. I went for a free read about the Baltic states in W H Smith's and arranged to go out to Rick's place one afternoon during that empty period between Christmas and New Year. I did not fancy negotiating those narrow, badly sign-posted country lanes to his hidden village in the dark. Somehow it was always easier on the way back for you would always eventually hit a main road. I left soon after lunch, ignoring the louring skies and their threat of rain and made my way up the escarpment. As I drew up in the drive of his parents' house the front door opened and Rick ran out to greet me. I got out of the car and took him in an intimate hug. I could feel he was all man. When we parted I saw his parents standing in the doorway. I blushed, but Rick acted perfectly normally. They greeted me as a long lost friend for it had been some time since I had seen Rick's mother in the gentleman's outfitter's and even longer since I'd seen his father at school rugby matches.
"My, you've grown into a handsome young man. I now know why Richard's so keen on you," said Roger. I was flattered and surprised at the same time, surprised not only to find out that Rick was 'so keen on me', but also that he had been so open about it with his parents.

We went into the kitchen and all had a sociable cup of tea, after which I went with Rick up to his room to talk about what we'd planned to discuss, our holiday together. We hardly noticed that it was already getting dark at three o'clock rather than four. The curtains were drawn and we forgot all about what was happening outside. About five Rick's mother called up the stairs to say that another cup of tea was waiting for us in the kitchen. We went down and his father said
"I don't know whether you two have looked outside, but it's snowing heavily." What would have been rain down in the valley near sea level was snow up in the hills.
"Trust us," said his mother. "You won't get out of the valley until tomorrow when they send the gritters and snow plough in. You're welcome to stop to dinner, Tim, and stay the night." Although I apparently had no choice, I thought of this as a belated Christmas present and accepted graciously. "Do you need to telephone anyone, Tim?" I answered no, but said I needed to fetch my emergency overnight bag from the boot of my car. They expressed surprise when they saw me return with my Bart Simpson lunchbox. "Richard, shall I make up the spare room?"
"No, it's okay, Mum. We'll cope with the couch in my room, won't we, Tim?" I had vivid memories of how we'd coped with the couch on my previous visit and readily acquiesced.

After dinner Rick and I retired to his room to watch a DVD. I can't even remember what it was about because sitting on the couch developed into a smooching session. We stopped before going too far to save ourselves for bedtime. Rick switched the film off and put a CD on quietly in the background and then we talked about what we'd do on holiday, how we'd start off getting to know each other's bodies and reactions thoroughly before finally making love properly.
"Are you a top or a bottom, Tim?" asked Rick.
"I don't know," I answered blushing. "I'm still a virgin."
"I'll treat you gently then."
"What about you?"
"Versatile. It depends on the mood and who I'm with, not that I've had much recently." 'Six months to preserve my virginity for Rick,' I thought. I didn't think it would be that difficult unless... unless we got carried away tonight.

We lay side by side on Rick's bed dressed only in our slips, our arms round each other, just enjoying being together. If proof of that were needed the bulges in our underwear were sufficient witness and in time would receive their own fulfilment, but for the moment our only activity was occasional little kisses, not even frenchies. If we spoke it was about what we had been doing over the past few years. We'd both had intimacies with friends, boyfriends I suppose, but not anything serious, more social appendages and sexual pacifiers. Rick was far more experienced than me; as I said earlier I was still a virgin and even in this short interval I became certain that Rick would be the only person in the world to take my virginity, and that I could last out six more months after waiting all my life. Perhaps I had overstocked my overnight emergency lunchbox, but so what. Since we'd been heavily airing nostalgia, I said
"Rick, this might sound obsessive, but there are two questions I'd like to put to you."
He looked interested. "Go on." The wind howled through the eaves and I wondered whether it was still snowing.
"It's that party again."
"Which one?" he asked as a tease.
"The one at Ollie's when you were in the third form, the one where you gave Ollie that blowjob."
"You are obsessive," replied Rick. "By the way who was it who told you about it?" It was almost nine years on, it was public knowledge anyway and it wasn't going to do any harm now.
"Why, David. Didn't you know?"
"No, I could tell you a few tales about him that would make your hair curl, too." I had notoriously straight hair.
"Don't change the subject, but I think I'd like to hear them some time."
"What's your question?"
"Were you and Ollie an item?"
"Hmmm." Rick was obviously giving the question some serious thought. "You obviously didn't know Ollie that well. He was going through a difficult time at home which I'll tell you about some time. To put it bluntly he liked boys - sexually I mean - and he was a bit of a slut, but I suppose that means I was too. No, I'll rephrase that. I was a bit of a slut until I calmed down and Ollie was a complete and utter slut. Not that it mattered for he was very popular anyway, even among the str8s - a good sportsman and team player always is, added to the fact he was extremely good-looking, and I still have a soft spot for him. He was my best friend at school, rather than a boyfriend. We did a lot of stuff together. He did a lot of stuff with other boys and I wasn't so innocent either. He was the one that stole my cherry, but I never found out whether I took his or not. Though looking back with the benefit of experience I doubt it. The interesting thing was after that party several others in our year came out, and a number of them were in our sports teams. It had the effect of galvanising us as a team." I was paying rapt attention and the bulge in my Hom No1 briefs had softened. I re-adjusted myself. Rick did so in sympathy. "So really we were a couple of good time boys. We didn't take things so seriously at the age of fourteen." I smiled in appreciation and pulled Rick closer to me. "I'll tell you a story you might like from rugby tour. It was the following year after you'd left.

"At the end of October during half term we went on a rugby tour to Wales. Fourth form that was, Under 15s. We stayed at a hostel in Llanddewi Brefi in Cardiganshire and had three matches against two local schools and one club."
"Isn't that where the only gay in the village lives?"
"Yeah, more of that later. Anyway, back to the rugby tour. We hadn't done too well in the first two matches. Beaten by one of the schools and the local club. The second night we smuggled in some cans of lager. We knew the staff would be in the pub and as long as we behaved reasonably they left us alone. I was sharing a room with Ollie and everybody wanted to crowd into it. Fine, but where were the empty lager cans going to be found? The conversation got going as the lager got drunk and people started provoking Ollie because of his reputation and he said he would take any member of the squad up the arse the following night. His words, not mine. I thought it was the beer talking, until I discovered that he'd only been drinking Pepsi all evening - my Pepsi at that - and about half a dozen said they'd take him on. 'Okay,' said Ollie 'there are two conditions. One: we win the game tomorrow, two: you use rubbers. After all if I get pregnant I won't know who the father is...' Everyone rolled around with laughter. 'No seriously, lads, it's messy with one and it'll be indescribably messy with spunk from half a dozen of you dripping from my bum.' Everybody went yeuk, gross or put their fingers down their throats. The pubs close earlier in Wales for some reason and the teachers came back and sent us to bed. We managed to hide the empties in a black plastic sack in time and during the night I went out and left them round the back of the hostel by the dustbins. When we'd all gone to bed I asked him if he was serious. 'Of course. We've got to do something to gee the lads up so that we at least win something. Oh, and Rick, I want you to be my second like boxers have.' 'What does that mean?' I asked. 'You make sure I'm well lubed up and that they all wear condoms.' 'I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll insist on putting them on their dicks. That'll be a bit of fun, but where are they going to get condoms and lube from?' 'I never travel without them,' said Ollie. 'They can get jonnies out of the machine. I'm not supplying them and my arse, and there's a brand new tube of K-Y with my washing kit.' And so at breakfast the hour was set to make sure the staff had maximum drinking time and would leave us alone.

"In the morning we did a bit of light training to brush up our game, had an early snack lunch and climbed into the bus to go off to the school we were playing against. Well, as you can guess we won the match or there wouldn't be a story." I nodded. "During the match we thought there was a bit of argy-bargy going on between Ollie and their flyhalf."
"Was Ollie still playing fullback?" Rick nodded.
"They tackled each other like mad, but from the grins on their faces you could tell they were having fun and it wasn't the least bit bad tempered. After the match the home team clapped us off the field and Ollie and their flyhalf swapped shirts. Nothing unusual about that, until you get home and get a bollocking because you need a rugby shirt replacing. But imagine our surprise when we got into the showers and found Ollie and his new found friend having a jerk off session together. The two teams formed a circle and started the rhythmic clapping to encourage them, and there were one or two instant boners on both sides, I can tell you. When we were all changed we went into the school dining hall to be fed and Ollie brought his friend across and introduced him. His name was Caradog. He was so typically Welsh in appearance, stocky, black hair and sparkling blue eyes and although stocky all muscle, not a trace of fat, a body to die for." Rick shuddered as he recalled him. "And he could talk for Wales. His face was fascinatingly beautiful and gained him a lot of attention. It turned out that he lived in Llanddewi Brefi and so he was given an immediate invitation to come and hang out with us in the hostel that evening.

"No beer that evening because it had got round the village who we were and that we were under age - not that that was difficult with a load of English in a Welsh-speaking village - and so they wouldn't sell us any. After rest and recreation the appointed hour arrived. We checked that the staff were safely tucked up in the pub. Caradog had arrived, was made thoroughly welcome and had explained to him what the main entertainment of the evening was. He asked if he could join in. 'It gets a bit lonely being the only gay in the village, you see.' He had a melodious bass Welsh voice which he put to good use when the singing began later in the evening. Ollie immediately offered to donate a condom 'as he was a guest and didn't know he had to bring one', or nearer the to the truth because he was gagging to get Caradog inside him. Besides Caradog and me there were four contestants who turned up dressed in their light training shorts. Apart from me who was going last anyway they drew lots for the running order and apart from the two who had volunteered to take turns standing guard outside the door each member of the 'audience' was charged a pound to cover Ollie's 'expenses'. Everything was ready. Ollie slipped off his tee shirt and dropped his sweats to leave himself wearing just a jockstrap. 'Perfect access to my hole, keeps my tackle under control and'll soak up any spunk if any of you bastards make me come too soon,' he explained. Acting as Ollie's 'second' I took the tube of K-Y and started fingering and opening up his sphincter as he knelt on all fours on one of the beds. I could feel his prostate and he shuddered when I first touched it. Alex was first - long prick and overlapping foreskin with ridiculously small balls that just didn't match - dropping his shorts and getting an instant boner. I gently pulled back his foreskin and unrolled his rubber down the length of his rod. &lsqu o;Easy now,' said Ollie flinching slightly as Alex pushed in. Doing this job was making me hard as a rock, well disguised under my loose sweatpants. He took short strokes and stroked, patted and slapped Ollie's butt cheeks as he got on with the job, urged on by the 'audience' and told to get on with it. A cheer went up when he finally came. He pulled out and his dick flopped to general applause. Next was Juan (father English, mother Spanish). He was the team musical director as he could play the piano for when the singing got going, Mr Average for size and shape although he would have done himself a favour if he shaved his cock and balls. Intensely black pubic hair, scarcely curly, in need of a trim. Caradog followed. An incredibly thick dick, stubby when flaccid, the type that never goes really soft and consolidates rather than shrivels in cold water. We wondered whether he would have the staying power after the afternoon's try out in the shower. Definitely a grower, at least in my hands, when I came to unroll the rubber on him. He made Ollie gasp as he eased his way in. I relubed Ollie between each entrant's performance. Finally it was my turn. I slipped off my jogpants and briefs giving relief and freedom to my tortured dick. My hands were really slippery by now and Caradog offered to unroll the condom on my already stiff member. Gripping his hips I eased my way into Ollie. Being the last one I had no need to hold back and in any case this was not our first time. I knew what he like and started by slapping his cheeks. Despite exercising utmost control he came as I made my deepest thrust and his orgasm shook my body as well as almost, but not quite, causing me to have a premature ejaculation, but I managed to hold back and finished off in my own time. The applause and cheering must have resounded throughout the building. As long as it didn't rise above the noise over in the pub. After that everyone went down to the common room. They just cleared off leaving Ollie and me to tidy the mess and clean ourselves up. Finally we joined the rest as we gathered round the piano and sang for the rest of the evening. The staff looked in, but content to know what we were doing and where we are they soon returned to the pub. The next morning Ollie said he had a bit of a brontosaurus, but he had never enjoyed making twenty quid in less than an hour so much before. 'Sorry, Rick, I don't want to upset you, but that Caradog knew his business.' I shrugged my shoulders and said 'You'll have to teach me how to come up to his standard then.' Caradog was there to see us off on the coach. He also knew how to wear a pair of 501s. On the journey home Ollie had to do his pulling-a-condom-over-his-head trick in the back seat. Again he asked to be his 'second'. This time that meant holding a pin ready in case he was about to suffocate or a member of staff decided to walk down to the back of the bus. I said it would cost him a feel of his balls."

The story had made me mega-horny and I was looking forward to snuggling down with Rick. We made our last preparations for bed. We looked out of the window. The wind had died down and only the odd snowflake fell. It was warm in Rick's room with the central heating and as we climbed naked into Rick's bed he said
"Tim, you said there were two questions you wanted to ask."
"Oh, yes," I replied. "I almost forgot. What on earth happened to that purple underwear you used to wear?" Rick giggled.
"Yes, it was a bit of a passion killer, but I liked it and thought it was quite trendy in those days." We snuggled up together and I stroked the inside of Rick's thigh. "I've got something better than that for you."
"And what's that?"
"Well, you know how I made my reputation."

In the morning when we woke it was already light, about half past eight. I hadn't realised what a late night we'd had. Rick drew back the curtains and the rising sun streamed in, low on the horizon and from a clear blue sky. Through my eyes still misted with sleep I saw the silhouette of his naked body in profile with his half hard dick slightly swollen and raised forty-five degrees from its normal vertical hang. I was still hardened with morning wood We both went to the bathroom and Rick dragged me back to bed. Our bodies had chilled and we cuddled each other to get warm.
"Well," said Rick "I showed you how to do it last night. I want to see how well you learnt the lesson." And that is how our relationship advanced one more step. When we finally arrived downstairs in the kitchen Mrs Jones had started her cleaning. Rick's father and mother were working from home in the study as they had been unable to leave the village and travel to work. His mother came into the kitchen with a cheery good morning when she heard us and started to make breakfast. While we were eating it, the first gritter lorry made it along the road outside. I'd be able to drive home. Rick and his family insisted, however, I should stay a bit longer to make sure the winter sun could do its best to make the roads safe. When I finally departed, Bart Simpson overnight lunchbox in hand, I motored cautiously until I came to the main road, then half way down the escarpment I crossed the snow line. In town, as I suspected, the streets were damp, but completely clear. As I turned into my road, it dawned on me that my ship had again passed in the night and that it was not due to return until midsummer when Rick had finished his postgraduate degree and would be placing himself on the job market.

I would not have said that we were boyfriends or an item at that time, but it was clear to me that a bond was growing between us. It was Rick that was forging the link and I had nothing to do but allow it to happen. Somehow that assuaged my conscience for although we were both heading in the same direction with our relationship, inwardly I would have still felt it wrong to pursue a boy four years my junior despite our both being adults in our twenties now. If on the other hand he was wooing me there was no pressure on him apart from the drive of his own hormones and all I had to do was to be honest and honourable in my intentions and actions. We had not yet arrived at that stage when we could not bear to live without each other. That was to come later. But the communication increased while we were apart with occasional letters and not so occasional phone calls and e-mails. In our conversations we were kids again, talking about trivialities which to us were so important.

Work is a wonderful institution. Not only does it provide a living and ultimately contribute to the welfare of the nation, but it can so engross the worker that he forgets outside distractions. That's definitely what happened to me and I assume happened to Rick as well. It sped up the passing of time until he took his final examinations and wrote his last dissertation and came out with a master's degree in law to add to his 2:1 in classics. It was over the late May bank holiday weekend that we met to plan our trip to the Baltic states. Everything was booked and paid for. It was just the logistics of turning up, what to take and some preparation. As part of that preparation we talked about our relationship and how we were going to use the holiday to develop the physical side. Rick stayed over at my place Sunday to Monday when we learnt to our expense the difficulty of sleeping two in a single bed. It turned a promising night into a bit of a passion killer and in the end I got up early to let Rick sleep on in peace. At midday we were due out at his parents' house for lunch and although nothing was explicitly said it was obvious that they accepted our relationship. Would my father be so welcoming? My mother had been dead for some years, but from one or two odd things she said, I suspect she knew I was gay. Such things never got talked about openly in our family. About four I said goodbye to Rick and his family and motored back to the city while Rick climbed into his newly acquired wheels to go back to his university where one or two ends needed tidying up including his degree ceremony, and perhaps more important job applications.

Mid-June Saturday lunchtime. As I loaded the car, turned everything off and locked up I thought back to the preparations I had made for this holiday. Inspired by a Channel 4 programme I had gone to a beauty salon that also catered for men. Not only did I have my hair styled with blond highlights, but I also subjected myself to the torture of having much of my body hair waxed. My underarm hair was trimmed, my treasure trail now stood out and my pubic hair was reduced to a short tuft just above my now glabrous cock and balls. Not only did I consider it an improvement in my appearance, but a improvement in personal hygiene and comfort during those inevitable sticky moments to come. The weather was warm, but despite the fact we were travelling north it promised to become even hotter according to the five day weather forecast on the internet, possibly even touching 30°. The plan was to leave the car at my cousin's house. He would drive us to our hotel which was a short walk from the north terminal. On Sunday we had a 6.30 am check-in. I drove off to pick up Rick. We hugged and he kissed me on the cheek in front of his parents and any passers-by in his village. We arrived at my cousin's house at about four and sat chatting on the patio with him and his wife. I don't know whether they guessed the nature of our relationship; we neither advertised nor denied it. They could draw their own conclusions and apart from this one cousin I had had very little to do with that side of the family since the deaths of my mother and his elder sister. Everyone else had either died or were spread over the globe from Scotland to Australia. I was not terribly worried and if it were to come about that Rick and I should decide to live together or, heaven forfend, unite in a civil partnership, it would not come as such a big surprise. In a family where it gradually emerged that there were more black sheep than white a pink and lavender one would make very little difference. To our complete surprise my cousin's wife offered us dinner and as it was already cooked we were doubly pleased to accept. Finally we were driven to our hotel where we had to book in by eight or risk not only losing the reservation, but finding it billed on my credit card too.

Frankly, if you are stuck in an airport hotel, especially when you have just eaten and you have no car there is very little left for you to do. We decided on an early night and set the alarm for five o'clock. We showered and climbed onto the spacious bed.
"Rick, this might sound weird, but do you mind if I just look at you?" He giggled nervously and nodded his assent. Neither of us had bothered to put any clothes on after our showers. I took Rick's hand and led him to a space by the window. It was still light outside, but the windows were heavily net curtained and nothing overlooked them. Of course we had been naked together before, but this was the first time I had at leisure observed the object of my desires. There! I've let something slip which up to then had not really been a secret, but just a thought, a passion, a wish, only tacitly acknowledged, yet screamed out if only within the confines of my head. Rick was only slightly shorter than me, his skin unblemished, and fair where it was still untouched by the sun. He appeared naturally smooth, although a closer inspection would reveal miniscule fair hairs. Even his pubic hair was minimal. I gave him a twirl. I would describe him as having no backside which was ridiculous for everyone must have something to sit on. His pecs were firm and natural, that is to say undeveloped by working out, his nipples small and compact with hardly any difference in colour from from the surrounding skin. Here was something to work on. His abs were naturally formed, again not the product of obvious working out, his belly button an innie, his legs long and sleek. The rest has been described before. The gods must have been smiling the night the spermatozoon pierced the ovum that was to produce him. I was already hard from my prolonged inspection. We climbed onto the bed and kissed. Our hard dicks met as I pulled him on top of me.

Bleary eyed we got up when the alarm went off. Being midsummer it was already light. We packed the few things we had unpacked and went down to breakfast. Fed and ready to go we vacated our room and walked towards the terminal. Half past six check-in, half past eight flight, half past one arrival in Vilnius (Lithuania). Even at that time the airport was heaving. At Vilnius we were met by our lady tour guide and whisked off to our hotel which overlooked the town hall square. We were now at liberty until the following morning. Our air-conditioned room protected us from the heat outside and we decided to shower and pleasure each other during the heat of the day, concentrating on the joys that the tongue and lips can give to the cock - the master and his apprentice.
"You know, Tim, I really appreciate all the trouble you've gone to having your body waxed. I'd love you anyway, but smooth skinned I love you even more." I was taken aback by the mention of love and wondered how seriously to take the word. Inwardly I was purring; he could do anything with me. He took my hand and just by leading me he got me to kneel on the bed and inspected my crack. "Hmm, just as I thought. The waxing doesn't reach everywhere. We're going to have to shave in there." As I said earlier, I was still a virgin and wary about having my bottom touched so intimately, but I knew the theory, knew that I was in the hands of an expert and now knew that I was in the hands of a loving expert. Rick went into the bathroom, fetched some towels, shaving cream and a razor and in complete trust I allowed him to perform the deed.
"You're not putting aftershave up there, are you?" I said almost in panic.
"No, this will have a cooling feeling," and a cooling feeling it did have for I now know he was applying K-Y gel and it gave him an excuse to work first one, then two fingers into my butthole. "This'll help for when we make love," he assured me "'cos if we don't get this sphincter to open, it could hurt."

The sun had gone round a bit, so we decided to venture out. While Rick was in the bathroom I put on a cotton shirt, light blue with short sleeves, and my 501s. We swapped places and when I came out I found him similarly dressed in a blue shirt and 501s, except he looked far hotter than I did. For fear of breaking the spell I didn't ask whether he'd dressed like that on purpose. At first we walked the wrong way and came to the ring road. We turned about, walked back past our hotel and came into a narrow main street where some of the shops were open and the restaurants were to be found. We walked on and found a large square where the cathedral was situated. We sat outside a café-bar and enjoyed a drink, watched a little choir form on the pavement opposite and sing hymns. We made our way back to the narrow shopping street, found a restaurant that looked popular and ordered a meal. We were surprised that so many people spoke English, for written and spoken Lithuanian were completely incomprehensible to us. As we sat on the veranda we boywatched, both noting how slim the Lithuanian youth was in general. No bubble butts there, but there's always an exception. The streets were full of buskers who played for a quarter of an hour or so and then changed their pitch (not the key of their music, you understand). Earlier we had noticed a trumpeter, a plump fair haired lad in his early teens. You could not in fact ignore him - loud volume, dressed in a bright red tee shirt, he had all the notes, usually in the right order, but no idea of tempo, and he finished every tune with the same flourish. He certainly kept us entertained. We wondered whether from his body build he was part of the ethnic Russian population that had remained behind after independence. As we chatted, we decided that we liked the idea of being dressed the same - corporate identity - and that we would wear the same things the next day when we would start getting to know the other members of our tour group. Let them t hink whatever they wanted to. We had nothing to hide. Eventually we returned to our hotel even though it was still light. It didn't get dark until about eleven o'clock, but it had been a long and tiring day. We went to bed, even neglecting the ulterior motive for our holiday together.

I was getting used to the idea of waking up next to Rick in the mornings and wished it could go on for ever. There is some kind of security in finding that you are not alone. It was going to be another warm fine day. Breakfast, city tour by coach and on foot in the morning, excursion to Trakai Castle situated in the middle of Lake Galve for the afternoon, evening free. We listened intently to our tour guide for we were open minded and wanted to learn, but we were also sizing up the rest of the party, six couples and two other single males of whom we were definitely the youngest. Of the two singles we were to learn that one had left his wife at home and was determined to chat up the tour guide (out of his league) and the other was a widower, a confirmed alcoholic who had come to terms with his illness and was perfectly open about it. One of the husbands was a chain smoker - first off the bus, last onto it - determined to negate all the advantages of his triple bypass operation and obviously going through a private hell on a longer journey. That was all we could glean so far. You had to overlook the fact that two of them were resigned to an early death hastened by their addictions. At least the smoker would have a cheap death with international brand cigarettes costing some eighty pence per pack compared with £5.25 at home and local brands thirty-seven pence if you were that desperate. Trakai Castle was in a beautiful setting, had an entertaining history and stored interesting artefacts from a pair of stocks to more artistic articles. It was that afternoon that we felt relaxed enough to hold each other's hand, surreptitiously at first. After all dammit these were all ships passing in the night and it might end up as a test of their tolerance or make them revise their own prejudices. Imagine when they got home. 'Oooh, we met such a nice young couple on holiday, shared a room and kept holding hands. They were so in love. I don't know if they were on their honeymoon.' 'W hat's so special about that?' 'Didn't I mention it? They were men, but ever so pleasant. Not what you think, good looking. I quite fancied them myself. What a loss to womanhood.' We laughed out loud and carried on giggling as we talked about the possibilities. And it was that afternoon that I came to another decision.

We returned to our hotel in Vilnius at about six o'clock. We had an affectionate little rest together in our room before showering, changing and going out to eat. We chose the same restaurant with the same intermittent trumpeter busker. As we found our way around we discovered a number of shops were hidden way in basements, even Rimi, one of the two Baltic supermarket chains, was underground with very little indication it was there. Reaching our hotel room Rick decided he would ring his parents on the hunch that he might receive some news. The hunch proved correct for he had been offered a position in a local legal firm. It was time for celebration and it was here that my second decision came into play. Up to now I had allowed Rick to make the running in our love life. Tonight I was in charge. I sat on an upright chair and invited Rick to sit on my lap, facing me, his legs straggling mine. Our eyes closed and our lips met, closely followed by our tongues. He gave himself to me. We soon had to adjourn to the bed where I unbuttoned his shirt and started to address his right nipple with my tongue, which sent a frisson through his body. He placed himself completely at my mercy as my hand fumbled with his belt and the buttons on his Levi's. Finally I slid his white slip down and over his bare feet. I just needed to get him to move over to the armchair where he relaxed his body, all except for one part of it. I knelt between his outspread legs, lifted his balls in my hand, impressed with their weight, licked his sac and took them one at a time into my mouth. Rick was ecstatic letting out little whimpers as I progressed to licking the underside of his stiffened dick. Finally I took his glans into my mouth, teased it first with my lips and then with my tongue, let it slip in farther towards the back of my throat. I thought at first I would wretch or gag, but it just happened until I found my nose buried in his pubes intoxicated by the perfume of his crotch. And suddenly it was all over. The first spurts of sp unk gushed into my mouth, but I was unable to control Rick and I found my face covered in his hot, sticky seed. He held my head and started licking my face clean interspersing the cleansing with kisses where the seed deposited in my mouth mingled with that now adhering to his own lips and tongue. I lifted him out of the chair, laid him gently on the bed, threw as quickly as possible my own clothes onto the floor and with my naked body snuggled up to his, his hand and fingers providing the physical relief I now needed so badly. Our passion subsided with both of us falling into a slumber, only to wake when we were chilled by the air conditioning in our room.

Now we didn't want to go to sleep any more, so we talked, talked through the absolute intensity of what we had just shared, considered how our being stuck together by dried semen expressed the symbolism of our being joined as an item and came to the conclusion that we were both ready to proceed to the ultimate act of conjoined lovemaking. Rick being the seasoned lover would top me the following night when we reached our next hotel in Klaipeda (Memel). I woke about seven the following morning with that reassuring feeling of Rick's bare body entwined with mine.

After breakfast we brought our luggage down to the hotel lobby and boarded our bus. We had a journey of some two hundred miles ahead of us to be broken by a tour of Kaunas, Lithuania's second city. The day temperature had continued to rise and we broke ranks by being the first in our party to don shorts. Rick challenged me to go freeballing, but I declined because should the heat turned humid again we would need thick cotton underwear to soak up the sweat. Our party of sixteen tourists plus guide and driver had been provided with a fifty seater coach, air conditioned thank goodness. We had made a conscious decision not to compete for the prime seats at the front of the coach, but sat in supreme isolation up at the back. We made sure we socialised with the group at other times so that they didn't think we were stand-offish. We might be queer, but we wanted to come across as normal people. No way were we screaming drama queens. Of course there was a certain amount of naughtiness which emanated from Rick, mainly in the way he would steal kisses from me as we travelled along, knowing how difficult it was for me to hold back from a full blown snog. However, we played an even naughtier game, initiated by him, but taken up by me partly as a form of self-defence and partly through lust. Shortly before we were due to stop and get off the coach, one of us would start stroking the inside of the other's thigh and progress to some crotch massage with the single intention of giving the other an erection, although that would with great pleasure often backfire on the perpetrator. Another reason for saying no to freeballing. On one occasion I had to remove Rick's hand quite firmly shortly before I had an accident. The others might stagger off the bus when we made a stop owing to age and stiffness of limbs. That wasn't why we would stagger of the bus. Ours was a different kind of stiffness.

We enjoyed our visit to Kaunas simply because the local guide was enthusiastic about her city and communicated that enthusiasm. Maybe we remembered the wrong things such as the ladies' and gents' public toilet doors which when you went to open them you found were painted onto the wall and were no doors at all; the so called longest bridge in the world. Now demolished and replaced, the original bridge dated from centuries ago when the old town side was part of the Russian empire while the River Nemunas formed the boundary between the territory under German or western influence and as at the time the Orthodox church had not adopted the Gregorian calendar you went over the bridge and suddenly found it had taken eleven days to cross it.

After lunch, back onto the bus for the journey to Klaipeda and we had a new game for the journey. As we crossed the vast rural areas of Lithuania our guide pointed out one or two storks' nests precariously balanced on chimney stacks or poles carrying power lines. Then as we looked carefully we began to see the birds themselves in the flat, sometimes marshy countryside as they searched for food. Later we were able to get out of the bus for a closer look at a nest and not only were we pleased to find one of the inhabitants at home, but astonished to see that the nest had lodgers with swifts that had built their nest onto the side of the storks' huge residence. The smoker and his wife appeared very knowledgeable on birds and it was interesting to listen to them. The new game combined with our personal little coach game we played together we decided to name amid giggles Stalk and Stork. Late afternoon we arrived at our hotel and after finding our room we showered and changed to go out and find something to eat. As usual we we walked until we found a popular restaurant under the belief that this showed that the food would be good and at a reasonable price. The tables outside were all taken because of the summer weather, but inside there was plenty of space and we could sit by a large window and indulge ourselves with a spot of boywatching; and we were not unrewarded.

However, we really had other things on our minds. Although we took a short walk towards the city centre it was not long before we regained our hotel for 'an early night'. We made ourselves comfortable by stripping down to our briefs. The cooling air coming off the Baltic made Klaipeda far less sticky than Vilnius. Rick made one or two preparations. He brought all of the towels out of the bathroom and spread the bath towels out on the bed. He then took me into an embrace and we kissed. He had apologised in advance that tonight's experience would be 'rather mechanical', but if we got it right to begin with it would lead on to better things. Back in England he had even shown me little video clips of 'doggy style' sex from the internet. We went and lay on the bed together and the snogging became more and more intense. Finally he broke off and asked
"Tim, are you ready?" I grunted some kind of assent and he slipped my briefs off. My released dick was instantly hard. "Kneel on the bed." I obeyed my master and felt the sudden chill as he applied K-Y gel to my crevice. "You'll be easy to work on 'cause as soon as you bend forward you reveal your hole." I felt his finger tentatively move into it and withdraw at the first resistance. "If your going to do this, always make sure your fingernails are cut short," he warned. He squeezed more lube onto his finger and worked away until it squeezed past my sphincter without causing any discomfort. Then he worked away with two. When he was happy with that he said "We're almost there." He pulled off his own slip and I watched him lube his own rod, making a mental note that in future I would do that for him. He got me to kneel at the edge of the bed while he stood behind me. I could watch a lot of what he was doing in the mirror doors of the wardrobe. Even so I just had to trust him. I heard and felt a soft thwack as I saw him pull back his slicked up boner and let it spring forward onto my slicked up crevice. As our love life progressed that was to become the signal for 'I'm going in now' and became an important part of our lovemaking. I felt the hot tip of his cock pressing against my hole and the the next thing I knew he was inside me. The brief burst of pain quickly subsided and it felt soo... good. I assured Rick that I was okay and I could then feel him making short slow thrusts into my hole. He had found my sweet spot and that was making me harder than I had ever been before. The slow short thrusts gradually became longer and faster and I could hear Rick breathing deeper, almost panting. Added to this was the pleasure of feeling those low hung balls of his swing to and fro and slapping against my cheeks and finally his wiry pubes rubbing against my (now) hairless butt. So many different sensual pleasures combined with the emotional one of being physically joined to the boy I had originally fancied all those years ago and was fast falling in love with. I now wanted to come, but tried to hold back. However, I felt a shudder run through Rick's body and knew that he was unloading his hot seed deep inside me and so I let go and shot mine, partially on to the towel and partially onto my treasure trail. I felt drained of all energy. Instead of pulling out immediately he remained inside me until nature took its course and he softened and flopped out. That was good bedroom manners I was given to believe. Rick sought reassurance that I was fine which I readily gave. My next thought was to shower, but he said
"Lie down on the towels, just to keep the bed clean. You've got to learn that sex is a messy business, but the mess is part of the lovemaking process and can be enjoyable in itself. You were absolutely fantastic, Tim." He lay down beside me and we cuddled until falling asleep. As I dozed off it ran though my mind that I was no longer a virgin and that I couldn't have lost my cherry to better man or in a better way. We woke up about an hour later feeling cold and sticky. It still had not grown dark. Still naked we crawled under the duvet together and slept through until it was time to get up.

Rick and I kissed, but that was as far as it was going to go for we both had pisshard-ons. I noticed a predominant smell in the room and soon worked out that it was our combined body odours. It wasn't unpleasant; in fact I grew to enjoy it in a positive way, especially as we only ever smelt like that after making love.
"Rick, that was wicked last night. Thank you, my love," and I kissed him again.
"Well, Tim, that's what you're going to do to me tonight." We showered together and dressed, putting on our khaki cargoes shorts. He threw me across one of his regular white tee shirts and slips so that we could wear the same things. In the mirror I saw my pecs, but more particularly my nipples outlined in detail. Rick ran his finger over them and we went down to breakfast. Dressed in a tight tee shirt and a tight slip, I felt really good.
"Rick, do honeymoon couples look different after their first night together? I feel different and I sense that everyone's staring at us," I said as we entered the dining room. Was I walking funny? I certainly could feel a dull ache in my bottom, the sort of ache that borders on the edge of pain and pleasure.
"That'll soon go..." Rick assured me "...with practice." He winked giving me a knowing look and I giggled.

After breakfast we climbed onto the coach for a short tour of the old town. It had to be short since most of the city, Lithuania's only seaport, had been flattened in 1944 in the war between Germany and Russia. The tour of the day was along the Curonian Spit, a geological phenomenon where the wind and the tides had over the centuries built up a long barrier of sand, never more than two and a half miles wide, between the mainland and the Baltic Sea. We crossed the 'lagoon' on a car ferry and continued south. For me the main interest was a visit to Thomas Mann's summer house at Nida (Nidden). From there we walked into the town and were free until two o'clock. We sat in a café and had a snack and then strolled down to the small harbour, sat on a bench and watched a family of swifts where the parent birds had gathered their six fledgelings on the rigging of a small yacht and were coming back periodically to feed them. Rick, sitting there with his arm loosely round my shoulders, turned to me and asked
"Tim, have you ever thought about why you're gay?"
In teasing mood I replied "C'mon Mr Lawyer-to-be, that's a pretty imprecise question for someone of your intellect. Do you mean why do I lead a gay lifestyle or what made me gay in the first place?" Rick blushed for he knew that however emotionally attached to one another we were, there was no place in our relationship for intellectual sloppiness. We had both had the same strict upbringing in the same academic school.
"Both really, I suppose," said Rick.
"Well, I'll answer the first question because I don't know the answer to the second one. First of all because of you."
Rick lowered his head, looked up at me and batted his eyelids to lull me into lowering my guard and then **Pow!**. "Who's being intellectually sloppy now?"
"Touché," I replied. "Let me gather my thoughts for a moment. On the positive side I love all things masculine, the shape of the body, the broken voice..." He knew I had little time for treble singing and choirboys. "...the smell of a boy or a man, you know about my interest in male genitals, the way a male thinks. On the negative side I dislike the smell of women, I don't find the bulge on their chest attractive, or the shape of their bottoms, whereas I find the bulge in a boy's trousers extremely attractive. I never have been able to get my head round the way they think, particularly my sister. But there again, I love my sister and I loved my mother, but that love was in no way sexual. It was because I was brought up with them and we have that family bond."
"Do you know many girls?"
"Of course I do... did... the girls at school and university naturally, and the girls my sister brought home. People at school used to say 'You must be all right for crumpet with all your sister's friends', but I never saw it that way."
"So you wouldn't have sex with a girl?"
"No way, I doubt if I would ever get hard for a start and if I did I'd probably poke it into the wrong hole; possibly I'd get hard if it was particularly boyish looking girl and I pretended it was you."
"Are you calling me a girl?" Rick pouted.
"Of course not. If you think that, you haven't been listening to a word I said. It's just part of my nature. I adore everything masculine, and I've got to say I enjoy being gay and dressing the way I do despite any problems it may bring with it."
"Including incontinence and prostate problems?"
"Incontinence is not confined to men and I'll worry about the other when it happens. We've got a few years yet." Rick playfully thumped my arm and we giggled, as we did so often during that holiday. "What about you?"
Rick drew a deep breath, thought for a moment and said "I'll answer the second question and in doing so it'll probably give the answer to the first one." Rick thought some more. "I don't think these are causes by themselves, but could have been contributory factors. I was not breastfed for a start. I'm an only child and had no one to play with until I went to school. I can even remember getting my first stiffie as I fantasised alone at the age of three. When I started school I was bullied by some older girls for some weeks until it eventually dawned on me that I could walk away and spend playtime with the teacher on duty. I suppose if you've got a brother you get used to seeing another boy naked at an early age and it's no big deal. I started playing club rugby at the age of nine and I suppose I learnt checking out there and talking about willies and as you got older you heard about and saw the stuff older boys do in the showers. There's less supervision than at school. Later I got older still and started joining in and doing it myself about the time I changed schools. Then I met Ollie and one or two others who'd had similar experiences at their own boys' rugby and soccer clubs and I suppose I just grew into it with the equipment arriving and enjoyed it. We never got caught and we never talked about it outside our particular group and so no one ever told us to stop it and like you we didn't get interested in girls." I looked at my watch. Ten minutes before the coach was due to leave. Rick took hold of my hand and pulled me up off the bench and we made our way to the coach park.

The tour continued with a visit to the highest point where we could look over into Russia (Kaliningrad Oblast, formerly German East Prussia) and then off to a woodland trail where the attractions were old woodcarvings, often caricatures of the inhabitants. During the day our conversation centred around how we might celebrate our newly forged physical union with a memento. We quickly dismissed matching earrings or tattoos as we were both instinctively against them and viewed them as a form of self-mutilation; an exchange of rings was either too premature or too ostentatious. We got no further.

Back at the hotel we rested for an hour, showered and changed and decided to explore the city on foot before having a meal. It helped to keep my mind off what we were going to do later. The Lithuanian youth still made boyspotting a worthwhile activity and with very little darkness at this time of year the streets were alive and the shops open until eleven o'clock or even later. Finally we settled at a table outside a popular restaurant which we chose because it had a cute waiter. Unfortunately we were served by a waitress, but at least eye candy was on the menu.

Finally we walked slowly back to the hotel, occasionally holding hands and quickly letting go for we did not know what the local attitudes were and we did not want to end up beaten to pulp. As we walked into the hotel we saw Colin, our group's alcoholic, having a night cap in the bar. We sat with him for five minutes or so during which he delivered most of his life story. He was a widower whose son had married into a well off family and who spent much of his time travelling. Although he appeared content with his lot, particularly as money was the least of his problems, we felt that there was something pathetic about his existence and we felt truly fortunate that we had each other. Looking back perhaps that conversation did more to cement us together than anything else. We bade Colin goodnight and made our way up to our room. In the lift I stole a quick kiss from Rick, which was enough to start us both off. Shut in the privacy of our own room I pinned him against the wall and teased his lips with mine, reminded at the same time of tightness of Rick's clothes I was wearing. There must have been one size difference between us.
"I'll just get showered," said Rick "and I'll be ready."
"You won't," I said emphatically. "I'm taking you as you are. I adore the smell of your body as it is. Remember how I always loved the smell of the changing room at school?" As our passion increased we gradually undressed one another. We had to break off unfortunately to fetch the towels and the lube. If it hadn't been for the necessity of the K-Y I think I would have taken him there and then. As I slicked up Rick's hole he said
"You'll find it a little easier than I found it with you as I've had a bit more practice."
"Boasting," I said to bring him back to my level. "Don't forget. You might have the length, but I'm chunkier than you." He wanted to slick my dick, but I wouldn't let him for fear of coming off in his hand. He took up the position, I pulled back my erection and let it slap against his crevice and pressed it gently against his hole. It slid in like a dream. He obviously has complete control over his sphincter. I was there. 'What do I do next?' I asked myself transfixed, but nature soon took over and I moved slowly and gently back and forth. I was in heaven.
"Grab hold of my butt cheeks," said Rick, which I did. "Now stroke them, slap them with your hands." I did, but it made me lose concentration, so I focussed on pumping. I was lost in my own world and had forgotten about what Rick must have been experiencing. I had a conscience about that afterwards even though he said he had joined me in heaven as well. Finally the explosion came, complete with seeing stars and I pulled out, my spunk dripping onto Rick's crevice and the towel. He told me to finish him off by hand which I did in seconds. Another cause for a conscience. Exhausted we snuggled together and nibbled each other, ears, nipples, lips, eventually falling asleep, only to wake up feeling cold in the middle of the night and to get under the duvet together.

The next day it was time to move on again. We packed and went down to breakfast and sat at a table with David and Corinne from South Wales. David had attended the same college as I had, but at a different time. So we had a shared interest.
"Are you two all right?" he asked. He and his wife had the room next to ours.
"We thought we heard you scream out in the night," added Corinne. I blushed.
"Cramp," said Rick instantly. "Tim got cramp in his calf and shouted out. Woke me up too. I gave him... er, it a good massage and it was fine. You're not even limping this morning, Tim, are you?" I agreed quickly.
"It's a good job you had some of that Deep Heat in you medikit, Rick."
"Take more salt with it," said Corinne "that's supposed to prevent cramp."
"And get high blood pressure from the salt?" I added with a forced laugh. When they had gone, Rick and I looked at one another and burst out laughing. "What a cheek," I said. "It was you that screamed out."
"But it was you that made me with that thing of yours." I wanted to hug and kiss him, but we had to content ourselves with a laugh. However, after that night we distinctly got the impression that we had been marked out by the group as a couple of gayboys, but strangely no one seemed troubled by it and everyone was tolerant of us. It just added to the mixture of the group - an alkie, a chain smoker, a randy old married man and a gay couple. What else would we find out?

Nine o'clock it was onto the coach, off to Palanga to see the Amber Museum, go to the beach and lunch. From the remarks perhaps I was the only one to appreciate the sandy Baltic beach. After lunch we visited the Hill of Crosses where in the middle ages one peasant had planted a cross as his pledge to God for recovering his health and now thousands, possibly millions of crosses had been deposited. There was no way of telling. Nearby was a superbly accessible storks' nest to photograph and the bird didn't seem in the least concerned. Back onto the coach heading northwards and over the frontier. Today's Thursday - it must be Latvia. The weather was closing in and it was darker than we had seen it at night. We arrived at our hotel in Riga and got our cases inside just in time for the heavens to open.

We checked in and found our room. It was pretty standard, but the main thing was that it had a kingsize bed rather than twin ones. We looked out of the window and saw that the heavy rain was set in for quite some time yet, endorsed by the accompanying thunder and lightning. In Palanga we had enjoyed a full three course lunch and so we weren't in the least bit hungry, unless you counted being hungry for each other. We showered separately to get rid of the sweat of the journey and then lay naked together on the duvet with one thing leading to another. I'd gone from kissing Rick's nipples to kissing his belly button and was about to work lower with my mouth when he stopped me.
"Tim, you realise we don't have to wait until tonight to make love?" In my naïvety such a wicked thought had not even entered my head, but I immediately saw the possibilities, that my training course could be advanced and that if Rick made love to me now I could make love to him before we went to sleep for the night. My face was sufficient to answer Rick's questioned. I fetched the towels from the bathroom while Rick searched in his suitcase for the K-Y. Without any talk between us I presented my butt for the ritual, but essential lubing. Oddly I felt much more at ease than I had the previous time and that helped the process. I enjoyed the feeling as he worked first one then two fingers into my hole. There was less resistance from my sphincter even, and he was so skilled that I think I would have been satisfied with his fingers, had I not been looking forward to receiving that hot length of cock inside me. We had discussed protection, but came to the conclusion that as we were both clean when we were together we would only use condoms as a sex toy, and life beyond our being together simply just not exist for us at that time. Finally Rick slicked up his rampant cock. I looked at it in admiration. It was as straight as a ramrod and when erect the foreskin neatly slipped back revealing an appetisingly clean and shining glans even before the application of lube. When I had an erection it pulled my balls tight against my body. When he was erect his balls still hung low and loose and so we had different experiences when inside each other. He got me to lie on my back, draw my legs back with my feet over my shoulder and spread them. He manœuvred himself carefully over me, couldn't slap his slicked up boner against anything, tentatively probed until his dick was in the right place and gently, without any resistance or pain, pressed home. He then lowered himself on top of me and gave me a deep kiss. Could it get better? I felt so good. Because of our position Rick felt no need to pu mp at first while we kissed. When he did start it made me feel so good inside that I wanted to shoot my load.
"Hold back if you can," said Rick "because the ultimate is for us to come at the same time." Since it was only my second time I did not have enough control and as I shot shot my hot jizz between our abdomen he sped up his own thrusting and finished off, staying inside me until he went soft and slipped out.

It must have been a hour later when we woke up. I felt dried spunk on my treasure trail and pubes and in my crevice, but I didn't mind. It was all part of a post-coïtal thrill. We stood up, wandered naked over to the french windows and drew back the net curtains to look at the weather not bothering about the rooms opposite in the west wing. The rain had stopped and the temperature was considerably lower which made the humidity bearable. There were even patches of blue sky and the pavements were fast drying up. It was considerably lighter than when we arrived. Then we noticed David waving to us from the west wing. My instinct was to dash away from the window, but Rick held me back.
"It's okay, my love, play it cool. It's too late. We've been spotted, so just put your arm round me, wave back and smile." And so that's what we did. We then went and showered together. Apart from the odd kiss under the streaming hot water and cleaning each other off there was no sex, not that that meant we didn't sport boners, but we wanted to save ourselves for later when I would be taking the next module in my How to do Boys course.
"Let's wear jockstraps," said Rick "now it's cooler and we won't sweat so much." I didn't need telling twice. From my rugby days at school I had always enjoyed wearing one - I like the cool air on my butt as well as the positive support - but my pulse always raced when I saw other boys cavorting around the changing room in them, for they not only gathered the package together so well, but the inverted V of the backstraps automatically led the eye to their butts and crevices. Second to that I loved seeing the outlines of a jock under sports shorts and cricket whites. Ironically I had never seen Rick in his jockstrap as a boy and now he was a man that pleasure had finally come about. By now he was used to my asking him to stay still so that I could admire him, and since we'd been on holiday, taking snaps of him. Thank the Lord for the digital camera. I adored Rick and the little things he did and said showed that he must adore me too. Who loved the more was a pointless question and not worth agonising over.

We knew we weren't far from the city centre as we had carefully watched the way we came from the coach window. In fact it was shorter to walk because of the one way streets. The first thing we needed to do was buy some money. The Latvian lats was at parity with the pound, so that made life easy in pricing things. Edytha, our guide had told us that Latvia was the most expensive of the Baltic states and we certainly found that clothes and electrical goods were more expensive than at home, while food was generally cheaper. However, with the 1:1 exchange we noticed one huge rip-off - the minibars in the hotels: a half litre of Evian water 3.75 lats, a large bottle in the supermarket less than 50p. In the minibar in the Riga hotel the management had even been considerate enough to provide one condom. (One condom? Huh! What use was that to strapping young lads like us?) We looked up the price - three lats, that is £3. We were tempted to put a pin through it, but it wouldn't have been the management that suffered. We got a good deal on the exchange, however, with 0% commission. Even though it was nine o'clock everything was open in the city centre, the crowds were out and there was no sign of the sun setting yet. Naturally we were boywatching. We had been told that there was a large proportion of ethnic Russians in Riga, but we couldn't tell the difference from the Latvians until they spoke. In general we were disappointed with the Riga boy scene. To be blunt, looking around there was very little difference from what you see in the average town in Great Britain, and that was too average. We went up into the restaurant of the main department store and had a snack. After looking around the centre we slowly made our way back to the hotel. It was interesting to see that the city ran both trolleybuses and trams, the trams with a single arm rather than a pantograph current collector as the system had to accommodate both on the same roads.

We decided to have a drink in the hotel bar before retiring and met Colin there. While we were chatting it was remarkable to see how he drank. He asked for a large glass filled with ice into which he poured half the contents of a half bottle of Gordon's gin and slipped the bottle back into his shoulder bag. While chatting to us about his travels around the world - over Christmas he spent six weeks in Brazil, he owned a flat in Alexandria, Egypt - he consumed the liquid contents of his glass and poured the remaining gin from his bottle over the ice that was left. We wondered how long he would be for this world at that rate of consumption, but he was pleasant company and oddly did not appear drunk. We assumed that he never drove a car. Finally we wished him goodnight and went upstairs for our own good night.

During the first couple of days it seemed to me that our lovemaking was very mechanical and I suppose it was. However, I have no regrets because it meant that we were to perfect techniques that suited us and made it easy later on, apart from the lubing, to be spontaneous, but if we'd made love the night before there was usually enough left in the morning for the top to slip one in and surprise the other. Since our very first night we had never worn anything in bed together and had no intention of doing so. Skin against skin was too precious to us. Safely locked in our room for the night Rick grabbed me and wrestled me onto the bed. He was soon on top of me; there was no point in resisting and I loved the way between kisses he would let his hands wander inside my clothing and gradually undress me. Don't forget that tonight we were wearing jockstraps and mine was a cricketing model with a pouch which by its very nature invited further exploration. Finally we got down to the business of the evening. I would shag him in the missionary position. Tonight's activity almost emptied the K-Y tube, but as we had both put two tubes on our packing list there was little danger of our running out and an embarrassing visit to the chemist's trying to explain what we wanted. At least at home you could simply put it in the basket and take it to the check-out. Anyway, according to Rick I passed the night's test with flying colours, especially as with Rick on the bottom and his being more experienced he could time his orgasm to coincide with mine. I still marvel at the little difficulty I had penetrating him in those early days and certainly he had developed the skill of opening me up after that first time. I have frequently extolled the virtues of his equipment's appearance, but he never showed quite the same interest in genitals that I did. He would admire the bulge in a boys' trousers, but only as a means to an end. I suppose it has its analogy in the person for whom a car is just a vehicl e to drive from A to B safely and efficiently, as opposed to the person who would drool over its lines, know the fuel consumption and exhaust emission figures off by heart and enthuse over what is essentially a piece of metal on wheels.

Next morning we went down to breakfast at eight, both buoyed up with that feeling of relaxed well-being you experience when you have had good sex the night before. We found ourselves an empty table and I was halfway through my muesli when I heard a hearty 'Good Morning, boys' from David and Corinne.
"Do you mind if we join you?" he asked. Well, you can't just say 'Bugger off. I want to enjoy my breakfast and my boyfriend', so we said
"Please do."
"Did you sleep well last night, boys?" David asked with a knowing look on his face. We didn't know whether 'boys' was a familiar and friendly form of address endemic in the Welsh idiom of English or whether there was some hidden irony it. I was in one of my bold and forthright moods and after the incident at the french windows the previous evening I said
"Not really, David. My boyfriend's so demanding in bed that I hardly get a wink of sleep. I'll be glad when we get home and I can get a good night's rest in my own bed again." That laid that ghost. Rick giggled his approval. David and Corinne took the remark at face value and didn't appear offended by it, not that offence was my intention. I wanted things out in the open rather than have to put up with sniggers and whispers in the background, and if they could go back to the Vale of Glamorgan and say 'We met this young gay couple on holiday. Fair play, they were ever so nice and good fun', that would at least be a public relations coup for the cause. We did think we ought to be careful in Latvia. Before leaving I had looked up a world chart on the internet and while it was clear that homosexuality was legal at eighteen in Lithuania, as low as fourteen in Estonia, there were question marks against Latvia indicating not only that the age of consent was unknown, but questioning whether sex between same sex couples had ever been legalised or not.

Today was to turn out to be the worst day of the holiday. Firstly it rained on and off throughout the morning and afternoon, more on than off, and it was remorseless straight up and down rain at that, which soaks you to the skin. It's no comfort to be told that this is typical Rigan weather. Secondly it was Midsummer's Day, a public holiday of pagan origin celebrated in Latvia and Estonia. Where do you want to go on a wet bank holiday? To a museum maybe? Wrong. All the museums were shut and the Museum of the Occupation did look particularly interesting. At least the shops were open later on. At nine o'clock we embarked on our tour of the Old Town starting on the coach and ending on foot, soaked. From the architecture the influence over the centuries of the Germans and the Hanseatic League could clearly be seen and since independence a great effort had been made to restore this area. The guided tour over we decided to go back to the hotel rather than battle against the rain and have a little rest, 'rest' being a euphemism for a snog and anything that might lead on from it. After a couple of hours the rain stopped again and we walked to the modern centre, had a snack and visited the Central Market. The Central Market is vast and is held in and around five massive hangars built between the wars for Zeppelins. It was heaving with people, the Latvians themselves, and obviously more popular than the modern shops if only because of the availability of cheaper goods in a country where the average wage was still £300 per month. In Latvia and Estonia it became clear to us that there were either rich or poor people with few in between and I shall return to that theme when we reach Tallinn. After that we retraced our steps through the Old Town and following advice walked halfway across the bridge over a wide River Daugava from where a good photo of the Old Town could be taken. We walked through the park near the Freedom Monument and it came on to rain again. Aiming for a pizza parlour in t he middle of the park we crossed a bridge over the stream running through the middle to see a number of padlocks attached to its metal railings. We would have to wait until the morrow to find out their significance. We sat in the pizza parlour until the rain stopped, then made our way back to the hotel for another one of our 'little rests', this time nothing major, just experimenting to find a comfortable position to administer a blowjob à la soixante-neuf. In the afterglow we lay on the bed talking since we had to come to some decisions about our lovemaking for it had in the short space of a few days become clear that we were both natural tops and a way of accommodating the other partner had to be negotiated. Versatility and tolerance were to be keywords to our future relationship, or taking turns to put it another way, and for the duration of the holiday at least we found it worked. Finally the rain stopped, the clouds cleared, the streets dried up, the sun appeared and we dressed to go out and find somewhere to eat.

We wanted to avoid the Old Town as being too touristy, but it was after all Friday with Midsummer's Night to follow. The shops in the centre were closing early and all the activity was centred on the main square of the Old Town. In the end our choice of restaurant was limited - no prices on the menus, always a bad sign - and so we became suspicious. Still we had in fact spent very little money and we took our seat under the awning outside. At least we could boywatch. The girls had all dressed up and wore wreaths of flowers in their hair. Why couldn't the boys have taken similar trouble? While we were sat at table waiting for our order to arrive a street artist was sketching us. We liked the result. It cost five lats, reasonable at English prices, probably a fortune for the artist, but far more important than the price was that it was the first picture to show us as an item. We would get it framed when we got home and we decided that as we were out to the rest of the group we would get them to take snapshots of us together over the rest of the trip. The meal, good, but nothing special, we found expensive, dearer in fact than what we would pay for the same in England, and unusually for the Baltics there was a compulsory service charge added. We decided that Riga was rip-off city because the prices there were dearer than in the rest of the country. Finally we made our way back to the hotel in the light despite lateness of the hour. We were both in a happy mood now the weather had cleared and we acted like young colts together, sometimes holding hands, sometimes chasing one another along the street and a lot of giggling and laughter. Once we'd left the main square the streets were almost empty. The Latvians were celebrating their Midsummer's Day. Twenty hours of daylight certainly did something to you and we could not contemplate the other end of the year when the winter days must be desperately short and so dismal. They were bad enough at home.

I regret we were slightly noisy when we arrived back at the hotel. Colin was in the bar. We wondered how many bottles of gin he had downed that day. I think he just wanted someone to talk to. We were once more amazed that he didn't appear drunk and could hold a normal conversation. He told us his life story - again - adding that alcoholism was a great genetic risk in his family and that he was glad his son, the one married into the Swiss banking family, had made a conscious decision to be teetotal for that reason. Having discussed the flaw in himself he ventured to say he wondered if we were gay. Neither of us took any offence, but in wicked mood Rick replied
"I'm str8 and so is my boyfriend here." All three of us rolled round with raucous laughter gaining some odd looks from the few others in the lounge. Eventually we said good night to Colin and hand in hand went upstairs.

As soon as we were safely locked in our room Rick took hold of me, picked me up and laid me on the bed. He took off my shoes and socks, then his own and climbed on top of me, pinning my arms down onto the bed. He stared into my eyes and slowly said
"You know, Tim, I'm in love with you," and before I could reply he was lying full length on top of me and giving me a tender French kiss. My mind went blank and I simply enjoyed the situation. Thinking back I was glad it did go blank because it saved me giving him some inept reply. I was so delighted he said it first as it made it so much easier for me to tell him how much I was in love with him, but when I had pulled myself together and was capable of thinking again I was amazed for I thought that in our relationship I had always wooed him and although his actions had always demonstrated acquiescence, even leadership because of my relative inexperience, this was the first time he had ever spoken to me in such clear terms. We got undressed. Once naked we climbed under the duvet and in an unrestrained manner made passionate love together. Woken by the early dawn we did it again, the spontaneity making it so much more pleasurable, despite how useful the earlier 'lessons' had been. It established a pattern until the end of the holiday of making love at night and in the morning and solved any problem there might have been about being the top or bottom.

Saturday we were due to leave Latvia but not before visiting the castles at Sigulda and Turaida. They were situated in a most beautiful part of the country either side of the deep valley through which the River Gauja flowed. By and large Latvia is a low-lying undulating country, but in this area there were some more serious hills. At Sigulda Castle we could look across to the one at Turaida in the far distance. The gardens had been set out beautifully. We did not know at the time that we were going to cross the river valley in a cable car. Some members of the party chickened out and remained on the coach, but they missed some of the grandest views. We discovered too why bridges had padlocks fasted to their railings. When Latvians get married they fix a padlock to a bridge and throw the keys into the water. We wondered whether we would ever fasten a padlock to a bridge over some water. After a visit to the sandstone caves near Turaida we went off for lunch before the serious part of the journey to Tallinn. The weather had become settled with sun and reasonable temperatures, and this was how the weather was to remain until our departure for home. After a splendid lunch we settled down on the coach for a three hour journey. I was pleased we were seated at the back of the coach as Rick made himself comfortable and dropped off to sleep across me. I loved the contact and scent of his body despite some serious pins and needles, but I was still concerned as to what the other members of the party might think. We had been accepted, but I didn't believe we should push our luck. We eventually crossed the frontier into Estonia. At first there was little difference to be seen as we still travelled on a straight road through forest with an occasional glimpse of the Baltic through the trees to our left. Fuel had risen from 60p to 70p per litre, still far cheaper than our 99p per litre at home. However, we had also entered a new culture. The Estonian people and the Estonian language were closely allied to the Finns, whereas the Catholic Lithuanians and the Lutheran Latvians were more closely related in race and language. Ever watchful for the cute boy we noticed that the Estonians had a fair skin which at this time of year tanned to a more yellowy brown than ours; they were hunkier than the Lithuanians, good-looking of course, and helped to counter the withdrawal symptoms we he had suffered in Latvia through the dearth of attractive boys. Again Estonia had a large ethnic Russian population which had stayed behind from the old Soviet days and you could tell who they were from their appearance. Our first stop was in Pärnu, dubbed the summer capital of Estonia, but we had little time to explore. About seven o'clock we reached our hotel in Tallinn.

It had been a tiring day, so we decided we would have a quiet evening. After unpacking, showering and changing we had just a snack in the hotel since after a three course lunch we didn't need much more. We then went for a short walk not straying far from the hotel before returning and having an 'early night'. An early night was an odd concept in Tallinn for we were close to the 60° parallel, just seven degrees away from the Arctic Circle, immediately after the longest day and it did not get properly dark at night. The sun was below the horizon long enough for the streetlights to come on for a couple of hours, but it certainly didn't grow dark. After the previous night when Rick pinned me to the bed our lovemaking developed into a minor wrestling match and the one who dominated was the top for the night which was not of great importance for we changed positions in the morning and making a big deal out of it would not have been a great basis for forming a loving relationship. Even in this short time I found that my sphincter had quickly adapted and become compliant to Rick's fingers and cock; also that if we lubed each other up at night there was sufficient left for the morning, or better still as we grew used to one another, a surprise assault in the middle of the night, especially as we progressed to exploring different positions. I'd never found Rick tight which he put down entirely to a misspent adolescence. Not that surprises were confined to the middle of the night for Sunday morning I was caught out by the oldest trick in the book. Rick dropped the soap in the shower and as I bent down to pick it up he was inside me quicker than the legendary Speedy Gonzalez. Despite the enjoyment of the moment I swore dire revenge on Rick and he declared he would enjoy every moment of it.

Eight o'clock breakfast for a nine o'clock tour of Tallinn, first by coach, then on foot. The old town of Tallinn, confined by its walls and mainly on a hill, dates from mediæval times. However, we first visited the seafront, port and outdoor stadium. Afterwards we walked through the city finding the best views over the harbour. For me the most interesting part was the Russian Orthodox cathedral where Mass was being celebrated. We walked into the middle of it, which was quite acceptable for that was what the local people did. There were no seats or pews. The Mass was being celebrated in the centre of the nave by four priests in full robes assisted by acolytes. It was sung in those bass voices that only Russians can produce, unaccompanied at that. Extremely impressive. The tour ended with a visit to the newly restored guildhall. We were privileged as it was not yet open to the public. We were now free to explore until two. By midday the shops were open and from all appearances it could have been a weekday. In the afternoon we were driven to the open air museum at Rocca al Mare. It was a kind of folk museum where country buildings had been transferred to. On our return to the hotel our time was our own until Monday evening. Naturally we had one of our 'little rests' until it was time to go out and look for some dinner.

Sunday dinner was another little highlight in our holiday, albeit a fully unofficial one. We found a restaurant we liked in the shopping centre just outside the city walls. It was nothing particular; the tables were arranged for four and had high backed pew-like seating. Without our noticing at first a group of ten boys descended on the restaurant and four sat at the table opposite us. First of all I thought they were from one family as they looked so similar, wiry athletic build, long blond hair, generally good-looking, certainly boywatch material, but what struck me more was how bubbly and outgoing they all were and although they were noisy they were well behaved and didn't trouble us at all. Well, that's not quite true. They troubled me because they were so incredibly attractive. An adult came along and handed out some money to one of them to pay for the meal. When they had finished and gone I asked our waitress about them. Apparently they were not a family, but from a sports club in Finland on tour in Estonia. It was too quiet without them, but for us they had certainly turned a good meal into a thoroughly enjoyable one.

We walked back to the hotel through the old town. It was shorter than walking round the walls. Earlier we had noticed a rainbow flag hanging in a side street and we wanted to explore. We found, not surprisingly, that it was a gay bar and as neither of us had been in one before and since as a couple we felt safe we decided to go in for a drink. It was still early and things hadn't warmed up. Even so there were all sorts there - gays and lesbians - normally dressed and flamboyantly dressed. We sat inconspicuously, so we thought, in a corner and watched. We too were being watched, but no one interfered with us. Finally Rick said
"Tim, how about a dance?" Nothing like that had ever entered my head before and because of my antipathy towards girls I had never really learnt to dance properly, but Rick assured me it was easy. He took my hand and led me onto the floor. "Just do what I do, Tim." I must confess I did not feel comfortable until... The next dance was a slow one and Rick took me in his arms. I naturally fell into them and we smooched. In fact I got so incredibly horny that I said at the end
"Let's drink up, Rick, and get back to the hotel for an early night." Of course sod's law came into play for as we stepped out into the street who should we meet but the chain-smoker and his wife.
"Hallo, you two," she hailed us cheerfully. "Enjoying yourselves?" We assured her that we were, asked them what they had been doing and wished them goodnight, making sure we walked in the opposite direction. As we walked through the hotel foyer we saw Colin and the randy married single deep in conversation. We waved in case they noticed us and hurried into the lift. After what had happened in the shower that morning I was determined I would take charge of our lovemaking that evening and we made out on the bed for a long time before getting undressed and on with the real thing. The next morning and afternoon were free until the mediæval banquet which started at seven and so we would go down to breakfast when we were ready. As it happened it was not long after our normal time of eight o'clock, but...

I don't know whether it was the smooching in the bar or the fact that after a busy holiday we had time to relax before flying home or because it didn't really get dark, but we had very little sleep that night. I must have been on good form for I made Rick hornier than I had ever known him. Okay, he was good at his craft and I won't deny the great enjoyment we drew from our nocturnal activities. As I said before, the lack of sleep during these long days didn't make you feel tired, something I had noticed on a long journey to the North Cape in Norway, the European mainland's most northerly point at 71° where the sun really does shine for twenty-four hours a day and does not even touch the horizon. But I'm straying from the point. After a physically demanding night I got up and was about to shave before my shower when I noticed the most humongous love bite on the left of my neck. I went back into the bedroom and shook Rick.
"Hey, wake up, you animal. Look what you've done to me. If I'd known you were that hungry, we could have ordered a dessert last night."
"What?" said Rick.
"This, you cannibal," I answered pointing at the bright red mark on my throat.
"Did I do that?"
"If it wasn't you, we're plagued with vampires here in Tallinn." He bared his teeth, hissed and grinned. As I saw him there lying naked under the duvet I could never get angry with him. His smile and the way those blue eyes of his laughed along with him just melted me. On the other hand it was me that had to sport the war wound in public and the way bruises healed on me that hickey would turn every colour of the rainbow and a few more before it disappeared. Still it takes two to tango. Wait a minute. Wasn't I the one who supposed to be getting his revenge for the incident with the soap? Wide awake now he said
"Well, Tim, which one am I?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's perfectly clear," he said. "You called me a cannibal and an animal. Which one am I? I can't be both." Out of frustration I threw a pillow at him and went back into the bathroom. I was not bad-tempered, I could see the funny side and put it down as one of those messy accidents caused by sex, like getting spunk over your newly washed and ironed jeans. Just before we were to go down to breakfast Rick took his bandanna - the bandanna, the one which brought about our chance meeting in the menswear shop all that time ago - and offered it to me.
"That'll look a bit gay, won't it?" I said summoning up all the good grace I could muster.
"Well, we are gay, aren't we?" I herrumphed. "It's better for you to wear that and let people think you're gay than sport the hickey and remove all possible doubt." Where had I heard that before? Or something similar. I took the bandanna and tied it round my neck. The silk had a cooling effect. In the lift down to breakfast we just had to meet David by himself.
"Morning, boys. Stiff neck, Tim?"
"That's not all that was stiff," said Rick sotto voce. I nudged him and we both giggled and squawked like outrageous femboy tarts.
"Vampires, actually," I said pinching Rick's earlier remark. The lift juddered to a halt. We inevitably had breakfast with David and Corinne although there was little sign of the rest of the party. Oh no, smoked salmon on offer yet again! I made the most of it.

After breakfast we walked into the old town. I don't know what it was, but I must have been undergoing a hormone storm. I felt continually horny throughout the day and I hadn't felt like this since those hot adolescent days at school when I fell in love with anything that had a dick, including Rick and one of my schoolmasters who I'm sure was gay, particularly from the way he would react when I tarted at him. One day I displayed my incipient sixpack in his lesson, surely worth an hour's detention after school, but he smiled and just made light of it. His eyes nearly popped out of his head on another occasion when in the full knowledge that I had a stiffie just ready to burst in my pants I did an imitation of Rodin's Thinker, displaying the bulge in my trousers for all to see. Another detention I just didn't get from him and I know he was always very well disposed towards me. It seemed that the more sex I had from Rick the more I wanted and nothing would calm my libido. I don't know how Rick felt about it, but his actions made it very clear that he enjoyed encouraging me. That was the mood I was in today and I dressed provocatively to go with it. I wore a tight white singlet under which my nipples were very prominent, a tight pair of translucent white shorts under which I had a clearly visible black thong which allowed the cool air to circulate around my buttocks just as I loved it to and a pair of sandals. I'd removed the bandanna once we had finished breakfast. It was too hot. Rick even had to look after my money as he had plenty of secure pockets in the knee-length cargoes he was wearing. I felt good, so good that walked around with a half hard-on for ninety per cent of the day. Rick made it plain how proud he was to be walking out with me, and it went without saying that I felt the same about him. The first thing we did was retrace our steps from the tour of the previous day. I felt embarrassed that the ubiquitous young ladies selling city guidebooks alw ays approached me rather than Rick for I always considered him far more attractive than I was. Even holding hands did not deter them. The only effective defences were either to buy one and display it prominently or to look like a native of Tallinn.

We had finally had an idea for buying a token for our love for one another. Throughout our time in the Baltics we had had impressed on us the importance of amber to the local economies and so we decided to buy each other a necklace with an amber pendant. We looked in the various shops, both tourist ones and jewellers', and finally found two we like, black leather thongs holding a piece of amber in silver mounts. In a way it seemed odd that we were buying near identical necklaces to give to the other, but that's the way it was. After our purchase we found a secluded area near one of the round towers that dominate Tallinn, sat on a bench, unwrapped the necklaces and fastened them round each other's necks, which actions we sealed with a deep and long kiss, which of course did nothing to help my general feeling of horniness. We decided to get a bite of lunch in the same restaurant we visited the night before in the vain hope that lightning might strike in the same place twice, but of course we were disappointed on that front. It was time we returned to the hotel for a little rest.

On the way back Rick explained he had one more trick to teach me.
"I was going to leave it until tonight, but if we eat too much at the mediæval banquet we might just want to sleep afterwards." I pouted and looked doleful. As we walked through the hotel foyer we saw Colin in the bar over a liquid lunch. We exchanged a few words about our adventures in the morning and carried on up to our room. Fortunately the maid had made it up and just to make sure we hung the Do not disturb card on the outside door handle. I started to take off my clothes. "Tim, there's no need for any hurry. We have until seven and I have a lot to teach you."
"I'm on the verge of a premature ejaculation."
"Then perhaps we ought to get the excess water off your belly first." I collapsed into Rick's arms and he picked me up and laid me on the bed. I loved being picked in his strong arms. I removed my sandals, Rick took off his socks and trainers and held me in an embrace. "I adore the smell of your sweat," and lying across me he nuzzled my armpits. After nuzzling them he started to lick them. It felt odd, but I was prepared to let Rick do whatever he wanted with me and it built up the pressure in my thong anyway. I must have fallen asleep despite the pleasure of Rick's tongue, but at least it calmed me down. When I woke he was lying naked next to me. I looked at him and smiled. He smiled back, but my eyes were slowly following the centre line of his body until it reached his pubes and his relaxed dick. I idly played with those loose, low hanging balls of his and his foreskin. As his dick stiffened he took my hand away. "I want to save it for later. Lube my hole. I want you inside me." He assumed the position and for the first time I managed to get three fingers in. "Ouch, Tim. You need to cut your fingernails." Ready he helped me to take my clothes off and got me to lie on my back. He came and straddled me kneeling over my stomach. The smell of his body, the smell of his sweet breath were enough to make me hard. The love juices were pouring out of the hole in my glans. "Now this is the trick," said Rick. "I'm going to lower my butt onto your cock." I must have looked horrified. "It won't hurt," he reassured me. "If it does tell me straightaway." He lowered himself at the same time reaching behind with his right hand to guide me in. It was a weird sensation because I was not in control, but it worked and he slowly moved himself up and down on me making sure he did not slip out. The sensation was greater because I had no control over it in the way that you can't tickle yourself or it's mu ch more satisfying to be jerked off rather than jerk yourself off. Rick watched my face for my reactions. I had the choice of looking at his face or his erect dick. There was no point in my trying to touch his because he was on the move all the time, but I loved the way his balls bounced up and down on my abdomen. I watch the expression on his face. It changed about the same time as the one on my face and I knew that we were both about to come. I shouted out 'Aaagh' as it happened. I unloaded inside Rick as his load shot across my face and chest. We always tried to stay inside the other as long as possible, but I was so busy licking around my face that I lost concentration on my dick and it quickly softened and came out. Rick lay across me and we had a mixture of his licking his own spunk from my face and transferring it into my mouth with kisses. I was still on the ceiling metaphorically and for a brief moment wondered where our love making could go from here, but I needn't have worried because I hadn't calculated the emotional side into the physical sum. I felt that we had achieved something special, particularly in the way of teamwork, that afternoon. We didn't sleep, but as soon as we felt able to we showered and dressed again. We still had some parts of Tallinn we wanted to explore.

We left the hotel and walked along the ring road towards the railway station. The daily train to Moscow was being prepared and we spent some time watching that. A large hoarding announced that the tracks had been renewed at the expense of the EU taxpayers. I didn't object to that because for more than fifty years the peoples of the Baltic states had been robbed of a decent life and standard of living by the Nazi and Soviet occupations of their countries and even after some fifteen or so years of independence they were still picking up the pieces. We walked on and crossed the railway tracks to find the entrance to a market. Ever inquisitive we went round this market and very soon gained some disturbing impressions. By rights we comparatively well off Western tourists with our digital cameras, fashionable clothes and good watches should sensibly not have been there. We were completely out of place and it was obvious. Listening we could hear that it catered for and was run by ethnic Russians. The goods were extremely cheap and almost exclusively second hand, from clothes to tools to electrical goods that had clearly had their day. One vision I still hold is of a stall holder sorting out her few good strawberries from a container of strawberries the majority of which had furry mould on them. It was at this point that it came home to both of us that in the Baltic states people either had money or they didn't and that there was no class in the middle. We'd found ourselves both literally and metaphorically on the wrong side of the tracks.

We crossed the ring road and went and had a coffee in the more salubrious old town before making our way back to the hotel. We had been brought down to earth by what we had seen and our 'little rest' before getting ready for the mediæval banquet was just that, a little rest. This was the first time I had worn long trousers, socks and proper shoes for a week or so.

The party was together again for the banquet. This was our farewell. One couple instead of returning to England with us were hiring a car early the next morning and carrying on to St Petersburg. The meal took place on the second floor (British, third floor Estonian and American) of an old Hanseatic building built mainly of wood. The dining room was entirely lit by candles apart from the very small slit like windows, which got the health and safety brigade chattering. We were greeted by two waitresses in mediæval costume who had us queuing up to wash our hands over a bowl they were holding as we were going to eat some of the food with our hands. Rick and I couldn't believe our luck when we met our waiter who was going to look after our party for the evening. Obviously a student earning a bit of bread for his studies - nothing wrong with that - he was an outgoing sturdy sandy blond with medium long hair who spoke very good English. He entered into the spirit of things, but what we particularly liked, and some of the women in the party were not unsmitten either, was that he was dressed in a creamy white embroidered smock, which came down to just below his waist, and claret tights. It was at this point that we railed against the dim lighting because we should have liked a closer inspection. Also we were sitting on the inside of a long table against the wall so that there was no real chance of chatting him up or 'accidentally' patting his bottom. The meal was served course after course along with copious wholemeal bread and the flavours and sweetening were provided only by herbs and spices available in the middle ages. We enjoyed it thoroughly down to extremely filling puddings. When we had eaten we were allowed to sit while we just exchanged experiences and impressions about our holiday. The party broke up at some time gone ten and to our chagrin our gorgeous waiter was nowhere to be found. We needed to pay for our drinks and we wanted to give him a tip. Some of the party went off for a night out in Tallinn; after all it was still light. But we decided to go back to the hotel for an 'early night'. It might be the last opportunity for a little while.

As we stepped out of the Hanseatic Inn we turned to see our waiter leaving, still dressed in his tights but with a jacket over his smock.
"Hallo," we said. "We wanted to give you a tip, but they said you had finished work."
"Did you enjoy yourselves?" We said we had and he started to enthuse about his job and the people he met.
"Would you like to go for a drink and tell us about it?"
"Why not? My mother has gone away for a few days and so it doesn't matter what time I get home." Our guide book had said that Estonians were rather formal with strangers, but perhaps the younger generation was changing that. He introduced himself as Erko and we told him our names. We took him back to our hotel and we sat in the lounge bar. Colin had arrived before us and was talking to the married single. It became very clear at the beginning of the holiday that he was going to have no luck with Edytha, our tour guide, and so he remained unattached.
"Lamb to the slaughter?" enquired Colin as we passed his seat.
"No," I said. "He's str8, but superb eye candy."

The barman said he would bring over our drinks. Erko only wanted a small beer. When I got back to our sofa Rick was already touching Erko and he didn't seem to mind.
"Have you got a girlfriend, Erko?" Rick asked as I sat down.
"Not at the moment. What do you say in English? I'm in between. I have to work as much as possible until I go back to university. So perhaps in autumn I'll find a new one." I sat down on the other side of Erko.
"I haven't got a girlfriend either," said Rick. "Tim is my boyfriend and I love him deeply." Erko obviously hadn't noticed that Rick had rested his hand on his knee. We were getting looks from people as they passed through, but I suppose we would when we had a young man in mediæval costume seated between us.
"I hope you don't mind if I ask," said Erko "but do you kiss like a boy and a girl?"
"We don't know what a girl and a boy kiss like," I answered "but we enjoy kissing very much."
"I'm not gay," he said. "I'm just curious. I'm not gay, but..."
"Would you like us to show you?"
"I think I would," said Erko.
"Finish your drink," I said "and come up to our room." I was beginning to get horny. Yes, I had been attracted to Erko since the beginning of the evening. I don't know about Rick because we hadn't had a chance to discuss him. What I did know was that we were becoming an incredible team. It was all down to Rick's personal charm and experience the way he was seducing Erko and I never could have believed it might be possible, let alone so easy, but I was being spurred on by the thought of taking a str8 guy which made me feel even hornier. When we reached our room we locked the door behind us and Rick switched on one bedside light. We needed some background music, but had to go without. The television wouldn't have help. We invited Erko to sit on the bed while I took Rick in my arms and deep throated him. We ground our crotches into one another and forgot all about Erko. When we surfaced Rick said
"Your turn now, Erko. Tim will treat you gently."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly," he replied. "You two are boyfriends," but we knew he was hooked. When you're wearing tights you can't hide the fact. I took him gently in my arms and started exploring his lips, his tongue, his teeth with my tongue and I felt him give in. I placed my hands on his butt and pulled him into me. He could feel my boner and I could feel his. We became passionate. Rick lay on the bed watching us. Not only did his trousers bulge, but he was unconsciously licking his lips, one of his little telltale signs of arousal that I'd discovered. It got better when Erko took the initiative and started exploring my mouth. I naturally had my eyes closed during this and didn't notice Rick getting one or two things out of his suitcase. When we came up for air Rick said
"My turn now." I lay on the bed watching them. On his bedside table was a tube of K-Y and a pack of condoms. I could see where this was going now. Rick gently lifted Erko's smock over his head leaving him bare chested, took him by the hands and pulled him into himself. At first Rick just probed with his lips and his tongue to slow things down, but when they did kiss properly he went to work on Erko's butt, stroking it at first, then working his hands inside his tights and easing them down so that he could start to finger his butthole. I could read from Rick's eyes that he wanted the K-Y gel, that he wanted me to smear some on his fingers so that he could massage it into Erko's hole to the point where Erko said
"I want more." Rick got him to lie on some towels on the bed and he pulled his tights and underwear off.
"Tim'll do you first. He needs the practice," and winked at me. I quickly stripped and Rick was holding a rubber that he'd already taken out of its foil and seeing me ready rolled it over my rampant dick. He got Erko to kneel on the bed and slicked his butt once more to make sure. I stood at the edge of the bed, held Erko's buttocks and eased my cock towards his hole, probed and slowly pushed in. Rick must have prepared him well for there was ne'er a whimper. He felt good as I slowly eased in, then backwards and forwards and re-assured him. I could tell he was enjoying it. He was making all the right noises. When I came, with a yell I must admit, Rick motioned me to pull out. He was already stripped with a condom over his erection and he took over where I left off. After disposing of the condom I lay back in the armchair to enjoy watching a master at work. Finally he made Erko come before quickly finishing himself off. Obviously exhausted Erko lay down on the bed with a smile on his face. We positioned ourselves either side of him and helped him to relax, stroking his nipples and feeling his balls. For the first time I could appreciate his cock, uncut and thick, lying to the left over large tight balls rather like mine. Erko looked at his watch. It was gone midnight.
"Tim, Rick, I must go home. I have to start work early in the morning. Then I get the afternoon free before the evening shift." He started to get dressed. I opened my suitcase and took out another black thong, brand new and still in its box.
"Wear this under your tights, Erko. I think the girls will quite like it."
"And the boys..." said Erko with a wry smile.
"You can't walk home at this time in the morning," said Rick. "We'll get you a taxi and we're paying." We slipped on some clothes and took Erko downstairs. Colin had fallen asleep in his chair in the lounge. I asked the receptionist to call a taxi and when it arrived we accompanied Erko out to it in the half light and paid the taxi driver his fare in advance. Turning to go back into the hotel we waved goodbye. We gave Colin a shake and helped him to his room.
"Did you give our waiter a good tip?" asked Colin.
"I can honestly say we gave him more than our tips," Rick assured him. Then went to bed ourselves. We saved ourselves until morning as this might be our last opportunity to make love for a little while. It was enhanced by the lingering scent of Erko's body.

The last morning was something of nothing. We didn't even see anyone we knew at breakfast. The dining room was almost filled by a tourist party from Germany. The lovebite had gone down somewhat and was largely camouflaged by my suntan. We could only use our room until midday, but decided to pack and take our cases down to reception for storage. We wandered into the old town for a last look and to enjoy the ambience and made sure that we had a good lunch as we didn't know when we would get the next chance to eat. Estonian Airlines did not provide meals. At two o'clock we mustered at the hotel for the coach to the airport. We took our farewell from Edytha, our tour leader, and thanked her for a job well done along with a generous donation. From experience we knew that once we reached the airport it would be every man for himself as the ships that had passed in the night would all be sailing in their various directions. The one thing that took the edge off the holiday was that the airport's computer system had 'gone down'. Rick and I giggled at the expression when we caught each other's eye. Once in the air we did something we had not done at all on holiday, we talked about the future. It was only now that realisation had fully dawned on Rick that he had a job, a career even, that he was going start on the 1 August. He still had a month's holiday, a month more than I did. He talked about living at home. He had bought his car to commute into the city. He already had his driving licence so there was no problem there. I no longer remember how the idea came up while we were on that flight, but it was suggested that Rick should move in with me and share my house. Neither of us needed any thinking time before agreeing although I knew there would be some logistical problems. We were at one in thinking that problems were there to solved rather than to prevent us from going ahead. After landing at Gatport Airwick Rick phoned home while we were waiting for our luggage and t old his parents he would be spending the night at my house 'to save disturbing them at a late hour' and would see them in the morning. The following morning I was going to take Rick home early. I think my cousin and his wife exchanged knowing looks when we picked up my car. Rick's ship would be passing for the last time. We endured my single bed and that spurred us on into making plans.

"Rick, what did your parents say when you told them you were moving in with me?" This was a later telephone conversation.
"I think they were rather relieved. When I came out to them they assumed that since I was unlikely to get married they had me at home for the duration. In fact while I was away at university they got used to being on their own and grew to like it. And they're very fond of you anyway, Tim. So no prob."

The next month was busy. We decided that my house had to be reorganised which basically meant redecoration. My bedroom, the largest, became the master bedroom. There's something so masculine about that expression master bedroom and we liked it. The most difficult thing there was finding a double bed that could be delivered in time, until we saw a television commercial for a company that guaranteed delivery within twenty-four hours. The two spare bedrooms were made into his and his study bedrooms. We had a little bit of luck as we had to house-sit while Rick's parents were on holiday which meant we could get on with work at my place in the evenings and at weekends, but could sleep together out in Rick's village. By the end of July my house was ready and Rick moved in. At last his ship had arrived home, to be safely moored in my harbour.

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Ships that Pass in the Night

by N Fourbois