Martin woke first in the morning. They had made love again before falling asleep and Jimmy's prediction had been gratifyingly accurate, in one way at least. It was just as good as the first time, perhaps even better, but he had been totally wrong about the speed. Again it had been over for them both almost before it had begun and although they would have enjoyed doing it again, after a very long day and still feeling the after effects of his medication, Martin had fallen asleep, clasped tightly in Jimmy's arms. Jimmy, trying to make himself comfortable and prevent his arm from going numb without disturbing the boy's head, had barely enough time to switch off the bedside light before he too felt his eyes closing. Thinking of Martin trustingly asleep beside him, half formed thoughts of the future came, but before he could take them any further, he too was asleep.
Remembering where he was as soon as his eyes opened, Martin was filled with such an overwhelming feeling of happiness that he felt his body wouldn't be able to contain it unless he got up and did something violently physical. He also needed to go to the toilet badly and realised that he would have to do it immediately before his memories of the night before gave him such an erection, he wouldn't be able to go at all. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened. Carefully he slid away from Jimmy, went to the bathroom, then climbed back into bed and rather guiltily, pushed the sheet down so that he could look at Jimmy. His eyes feasted on every inch of the older boy, but returned again and again to his erect cock. Remembering what Jimmy had said about liking every part of his own body, he tried to analyse his feelings about Jimmy's.
I'll start with his face he thought, moving his eyes upward. I can't see his eyes but I know they're grey and I love the freckles on his nose. But his eyes, completely undisciplined, insisted on moving down Jimmy's neck, over his arm to the dip of his waist, and then down to the hair of his groin. He's blonde there too, Martin confirmed delightedly, and couldn't resist touching the soft swirls of golden hair that stretched in a thin line from his belly button, then flared out to surround his genitals. The hairs were matted and he reddened slightly when he remembered what had stuck them together. He looked down at his own body but there was nothing that he could see, which surprised him considering that his own skin had been covered as well.
In spite of what he had said to Jimmy the night before, he wondered if he should feel disgusted at the thought of another person's sperm on him. He would certainly have felt that way when before, but now? Well, not only did the idea seem nice, but he wanted it all over him again! It's because it's Jimmy's he concluded, remembering that he hadn't even thought about wiping himself last night as he had always done after his previous, solo pleasures. His own sperm had always seemed messy to him although at the same time he was proud of the way it came out, and had been ever since that exciting day when he had seen a tiny droplet ooze out of the tip of his cock for the very first time. He had felt so grown up and proud of himself!
His thoughts had given him a throbbing hard-on, and he noticed that Jimmy's was twitching and looked up guiltily to see the grey eyes smiling at him. Immediately he became tongue-tied and could only give him a small smile in return.
"Good morning, kiddo," Jimmy said with a deep sigh of content. "How do you feel this morning?"
"Hungry," he replied, deliberately misunderstanding.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Jimmy grinned, reaching down and touching him gently, "I meant here!"
Martin gave an involuntary gasp and almost came in his hand. He looked pleadingly at Jimmy but all he could manage was a soft, "Fine. Please?"
Jimmy looked at him, measuringly. "You'll have to ask me Mart," he said taking his hand away.
Martin was puzzled. He wanted Jimmy's hand on him, wanted Jimmy to do it to him all over again, wanted to, to spunk all over himself and he sensed that Jimmy wanted it too. So why was he insisting that he ask? He looked into Jimmy's face but although there was a smile on his lips, there was also a determined look about him. He tried, through the mists of rising desire to understand what Jimmy meant and shook his head slightly. Why? He looked the question at Jimmy.
"Last night, I took the lead," Jimmy explained. "I knew what you wanted and I wanted to give it to you. It was easy for me because for one thing, I'm older than you and I've had more experience. But things can't always be like that Martin, we have to be, equals, or this isn't going to work. I know that you have a lot of complexes about things and especially about sex, but you do need to grow out of them. I want you so much I can't tell you, but I'm not always going to take the lead in what we do and when we do it. It's a responsibility you know, and you need to take your share of it, even though you're younger than I am. Do you understand what I mean?"
Martin looked at him, thinking deeply. When he spoke, it was with a maturity and lack of shyness that told Jimmy that he was answering on an intellectual, rather than emotional level.
"I think so," he said eventually. "Last night, I mostly just lay back and told myself underneath, that whatever happened you'd started it so I couldn't be blamed if it was wrong. What we did I mean. But that isn't fair is it? I wanted it as much as you did and I wanted everything you did to me, but I let you take all the blame and never even thought I was being selfish about it."
"Do you feel what we did was wrong?" Jimmy asked.
"No!" Martin answered positively. "Oh I know that the church thinks so and I know it's against the law too, but I don't care about that. It's nothing to do with anyone else. What do they know about it anyway? They're too old to feel what we feel. I don't suppose they ever did."
"I'm not so sure about that," Jimmy replied. "Sometimes I think that those who are most against us are that way because they'd like to be like us but are either too old, or perhaps too scared."
"Jealous and mean," Martin said sagely with a comically wise look on his youthful face. "Because they can't do it anymore, or are afraid to, they're not going to let us do it either."
"Something like that."
They were silent for a minute then Martin reverted to what Jimmy had said earlier. "It won't be easy for me. I've spent a long time not saying what I think and I've got used to not asking for things because I hardly ever got them. But I will try."
Jimmy waited. He wanted to help him out but genuinely felt that it was time he stopped hiding behind his shyness.
Martin took a deep breath. "Jimmy," he said, "Will you ... " he gulped, blushed prettily, then continued bravely, "Will you, will you, er, wank me please?"
Jimmy let go his breath and hugged him. "I'm going to do better than that," he said and slid down the bed. He pushed the boy's legs apart and knelt between them. "It's a such a beautiful cock," he said, and as Martin squirmed, took it into his mouth. He put his hands on the boy's waist, so small that they almost met around it, and seeing how close Martin was, simply waited. Then as the young body started to shudder in ecstasy, applied gentle pressure and received the boy's liquid, like a religious libation, in his mouth. As he swallowed, not releasing him until he felt the small body relax, he decided that even Martin's sperm was beautiful, and kissed the swollen, reddened head, then the balls that had produced it. Happily, he worked his way up the bed and felt Martin's arms come around him gratefully. There was wonder in the brown eyes as they looked deep into his own, soft with satisfied desire. He saw that Martin was about to speak, shook his head and closed Martin's mouth with his own, wondering if the boy would be able to taste the traces of his own sperm and how he would feel about it if he did.
Martin held him tightly for a few minutes then drew back a little and said softly, "Your turn."
Jimmy looked at him, bemused, as Martin smiled. "Mm?"
"It's your turn to ask me," his smile turning into an urchin grin. Jimmy grinned in return.
"Please, dear, lovely, idiotic, blackmailing Martin," he began and received a punch in the ribs for his pains. "Will you please do anything you want to me."
Martin punched him again, harder. "You made me say it. Now you have to say exactly what you want."
"But I really do want you to do whatever you want to do to me, if you want to," Jimmy said, somewhat obscurely.
"You can't even talk English now!"
"You confuse me," Jimmy said with deceptive meekness.
"And I thought he was so brave but he's just afraid," Martin told the curtains.
"What do you mean afraid? Afraid of what?" Jimmy asked ominously
"Afraid to ask me to, to wank you of course!" Martin crowed triumphantly.
"Of course I'm not afraid, you idiot."
"Well why won't you say it then?"
"Because I'm not sure if it's what you really want to do, if you must know."
"Well how will you know unless you ask me?" Martin asked with impeccable logic.
"I hate snotty kids!" Jimmy said, as one stating a self evident fact.
Martin raised an eyebrow at him and looked so cheekily cute, Jimmy made a mental note to learn how to do it himself.
"Then why did you pick one up and bring it home?" Martin asked him, releasing the first eyebrow and raising it's companion.
Jimmy grinned. "I didn't. I brought home something the cat dragged in," and observed with satisfaction as he searched for a reply.
"So I'm just the cat's leavings am I?"
"Very nice leavings I admit, but still leavings. Discards," Jimmy smirked, shaking his head. "Rejects, unsatisfactory goods, substandard, second rate, mediocre, inferior ... Uhh!" he was interrupted by another and very much harder punch in the ribs. "Physical violence is the last resort of the unintelligent," he remarked in an offhand tone, as soon as he could draw breath again. He saw Martin's fist drawing back and said in quavering voice, "Don't hit me, you, you brute!"
Martin tried to preserve his dignity then collapsed in a heap of giggles. Taking unfair advantage of this, Jimmy moved over him, captured his hands in one of his own, straddled his thighs. and tickled him until he was breathless.
"Beg," he told the helpless boy.
"No," Martin told him defiantly, grinning up at him happily. I've never ever played like this he thought suddenly, I never had anyone to do it with, and felt a rush of love for the boy looming over him.
"Well in that case ... " Jimmy twined his fingers in Martins, pinned his arms above his head and leaning down, delicately mouthed one of Martin's nipples. Taken totally by surprise, Martin gave a small squeak that made Jimmy smile, then tried to buck him off.
Effortlessly, his greater weight held Martin down. "Beg," he repeated, grinning.
"Shan't," Martin said, as if he was all of three years old.
"Okay, you asked for it." He used his tongue on the other nipple, circling it then sucking sensuously.
Martin groaned. "Jimmy, please ..." not knowing whether he was begging him to stop or to carry on.
"I suppose that will have to do," Jimmy told him triumphantly as he lifted his head. "Next time, do as you're told in the beginning and we won't have to go through all this," he added self-righteously in a, this hurts me more than it hurts you, sort of voice.
Martin groaned again, but determined to have the last word. "You may have made me beg cos' you're bigger than me, but you still haven't asked mewhat you want me to do to you."
Jimmy sighed theatrically. "For Christ's sake, Martin, will you bloody wank me?"
"You could say please," the boy said, as snottily as he knew how.
"Oh all right. Martin, will you for Christ's sake, please, fucking wank me and stop arguing?" Jimmy groaned
"Well I don't know about the, the fucking," he hesitated over the word slightly, then went on, "But I will wank you!" and rolled the unresisting Jimmy over and threw himself gleefully, and heavily, on top of him.
"Christ, you're a weight," Jimmy said with a grunt as the air was forced out of him, "I don't know how I carried you last night."
"I was the light of love," Martin replied with a giggle as he moved down to straddle Jimmy's thighs. "I'm not the only big one around here," he went on and leant forward so that he could pull Jimmy's erection against his own to compare, "But I think you've got it made in the size stakes."
Jimmy smiled at him, enjoying his happiness "Don't worry little boy, you'll grow!"
Martin let him go and threw himself down on him again. "I've grown about as much as I ever will for the moment."
Jimmy, winded for the second time, grunted and said, "Christ almighty, being in bed with you is like being in bed with a boa constrictor. Or a hippopotamus," then added hurriedly when it looked as if Martin was going to take exception to this. "Stop it, I need to breathe sometimes, you know."
Martin who had sat up again looked at him warningly. "You're a fine one to be talking about boa constrictors," he said pointedly, looking at Jimmy's groin, "Not that there's much constriction about it at the moment."
"Well de-constrict it or something before it kills me, dammit," Jimmy muttered frustratedly.
Martin looked at him. "You should keep it under better control. It's obviously got completely out of hand," then giggled at what he'd said.
Jimmy laughed with him. "So why don't you take it in hand and see if you can control it. Though I doubt if you'll be able to!"
Still smiling, Martin slid his hands down to Jimmy's waist bent his head and kissed the dripping, throbbing organ.
"I don't think I'm ready to do more than kiss it just yet," he said slowly. "Do you mind Jimmy?"
"Mart, I said that you could do anything you liked and I meant it. Whatever you want to do is fine with me, okay?"
Martin smiled blindingly at him.
"There is something I want very much," he said with a momentary return of his original shyness.
Jimmy wondered what on earth he wanted. "I said you can do anything you like Martin, and I meant it. What is it kiddo?"
"I, I want to watch you, when it happens," Martin said in a rush.
"Kiddo, it's right there in front of your very eyes. All you have to do is make it happen and you can watch as much as you like. But will you please hurry up, I don't think I can wait much longer."
"Aha, begging now are you?" Martin said in a satisfied voice, "And I didn't even touch you to make you do it!"
"Please, Mart" was all Jimmy could say then gasped as Martin eagerly but gently took hold of him.
"Like this?" he asked.
Jimmy nodded gratefully, "Just like that," and gave himself up to the sheer pleasure of the boy's hand on him.
Martin had barely started to move his hand when he heard Jimmy's breathing quicken. Remembering something that Jimmy had done to him the night before and wanting, in any case to see what they felt like, he put a hand on Jimmy's tight balls. Immediately the strong muscle in his other hand jumped and stiffened in his hold. Under his fascinated eye the head, already plump to bursting, seemed to expand even more, the tiny slit opened and as the boy under him bucked, a stream of molten silver-white jetted out across his chest, to land on his chin. The second spurt merely reached his chest. Awed, Martin watched the diminishing squirts until they stopped, squeezing gently until Jimmy held his hand to stop him.
"God, Jimmy. Is it always like that?" he whispered.
Jimmy shook his head. "No," he replied equally softly, "I've never done that before. It was you. You did it. Oh Mart," he breathed, "I've never felt anything like it." His put his hands under Martin's arms and pulled him down on top of him. As Martin's chest came into contact with the cold liquid, his own balls moved and he felt liquid ooze out of his still hard cock and mingle with Jimmy's as their cocks touched. He put his lips on Jimmy's and kissed him. They lay like that until Jimmy rolled him off and got up. He bent down, gently squeezed the tip of Martin's penis and licked the bead of moisture that bubbled out.
"That's to remind you're that you're part of me now," he said, "You're inside me."
Martin looked up at him with a shy smile. "You'll be part of me too," he promised, "Soon."
They showered separately then had breakfast sitting side by side, looking out into the garden. Martin decided that he had never in his life felt so contented. Whatever happens to me from now he mused, I've had this and I’ll always remember it. If things get really bad again, I can think of this and remember that I was happy. Even my cock feels happy at the moment he decided, though it will probably be wanting more soon. But for the time being both he and his cock were satiated, at peace with themselves, and with the world.
Jimmy, looking down at him, marvelled at the difference between the pale, sick, tense boy he had collected from school the day before, and the confident, happy looking youngster beside him now. This is what he needs he thought, someone to listen to him, to look after him and make him laugh, and give him as much sex as he needs. He put an arm around him and kissed his ear, that being the only part that he could reach conveniently. Martin wriggled happily and picking up a grape he had been about to eat, pushed it into Jimmy's mouth.
When they had drunk their coffee they went to the supermarket and did some shopping, then to a large department store where Jimmy bought some new Jeans. Martin was too shy to go into the tiny changing cubicle with him while he tried them on, but approved them unstintingly when Jimmy re-appeared. They fitted him exactly and showed off his shape to it's best advantage. He recalled how badly most of his own clothes, bought under his mother's supervision fitted him in comparison and felt envious for a moment. Jimmy would have liked very much to buy better fitting jeans for him, but wisely decided that it was probably better not to just yet. He had learnt over the months how Martin felt about having money spent on him and had no intention of upsetting him, today of all days. However, as they were passing the boy's department he caught sight of a very smart looking anorak which looked just Martin's size and was unable to resist trying it on him. He knew that Martin's mother disapproved of casual dress and one look at the boy's face as he looked at himself in the mirror made him decide, over Martin's protests, to buy it. It was extremely fashionable, fitted beautifully, and made Martin look even sexier than ever, he decided as they left the shop. He was amused to see a couple of passing girls giving Martin approving looks, and even more amused to notice that Martin was so completely oblivious of them. You haven't a hope in hell, he though gleefully. This one is mine. Tough luck girls!
The anorak would have to stay at the flat. As in the case of the typewriter, there was no way that Martin could explain it's purchase to his mother. Jimmy began making plans to build up a wardrobe for him after he had finally got Martin to accept the anorak as a sixteenth birthday present, though his birthday wouldn't be for several months yet. Enjoying the boy's pleasure in wearing it, he thought that didn't take much to make him happy, he'd had so little happiness in his life.
After lunch they went for a drive, taking the A3 past Guildford to the Devil's Punchbowl. Martin had never been there and they spent several pleasant hours wandering around, then had a rather nasty tea at the cafe. At least Jimmy thought it was nasty, but Martin's evident pleasure made up for it and he was amused to see the boy eat everything offered to him while chatting happily about everything that occurred to him.
They got back to the flat in the late afternoon and had a light supper before changing to go out. Jimmy regretted that he hadn't bought Martin some new clothes after all, though in his dark school trousers which fitted reasonably well, a neat pullover and the new anorak, he looked good enough to be taken anywhere.
He explained the plot of the opera again while they were eating, knowing from experience how difficult it could be to follow at first. Martin knew the famous trio for the three women in the last act as well as some of the other music that Jimmy had played for him, but had never heard the entire opera. Although he had never been to an opera he had been taken to see a production of The Nutcracker ballet when he was still in primary school. He had thoroughly enjoyed it, and at the age of nine, it had not struck him as at all odd that he had enjoyed watching the male dancers rather more than the females. He had even thought vaguely that he might like to be a dancer himself, but mature reflection even at that tender age, persuaded him that he would be mad even to suggest the idea to his mother.
They took the underground to Trafalgar Square and wandered around for some time, enjoying the sights and the crowds until it was time to head for the theatre. There they climbed an astonishing number of stairs to the upper balcony where they had seats in the front row. It was to be an evening of unalloyed pleasure for both of them. From the moment they came into the auditorium and Martin looked down, with a sense of vertigo, at the stalls so far below, he fell in love with the building with it's fin-de-siècle Roman decorations and sense of open space. Jimmy, recalling his own first visit to the theatre, felt his sense of wonder returning as he watched Martin's face. That time it had been Mozart's The Seraglio and like Martin now, he had been lost from the first moment.
As the lights dimmed and the conductor appeared in the orchestra pit to start the performance, Martin was entranced. The introduction which, as Jimmy had explained, described Octavian the young hero, only a couple of years or so older than Martin himself, in bed with his adult lover the Marschallin, seemed incredibly descriptive, and he turned an awed face to Jimmy, shaking his head in wonder. During the first interval, Jimmy bought him an ice-cream and they talked softly, not wanting to move.
Martin was full of questions which Jimmy answered to the best of his ability. Everything fascinated the him, from the computer system which apparently controlled the lighting to how long singers had to train before their voices were powerful enough to fill a space as vast as this without any amplification. Fortunately, sitting on Martin's right was a middle-aged lady who took over when Jimmy couldn't answer the questions his eager companion put to him. She explained that she attended every production, and gave them a brief résumé of the company's history, from it's inception as Saddler's Wells Opera, and then after the move to the Coliseum Theatre here in Central London, to the change of name to English National Opera.
"It's sad to see the old name go," she said with a sigh, "Still I suppose it couldn't be helped. But there, that's another bit of London's past gone, though at least the original theatre still keeps the original name."
Martin was about to ask if there had actually been a well, or several of them, where the theatre still stood but at that moment, the lights dimmed and the second act started. Jimmy had described how Richard Strauss had scored the music when Octavian presents the Silver Rose to Sophie, the daughter of the bourgeois Faninal, but nothing had prepared him for the beauty and delicacy of those magical, shimmering, chords from the orchestra. As the voice of the soprano singing the role of Sophie floated effortlessly to a high pianissimo he turned to Jimmy, his eyes gleaming with tears and reached for his hand. Jimmy who loved the opera above all others, felt tears come to his own eyes as he twined his fingers into Martin's before turning back to the stage. For the rest of the act, he held Martin's hand and only let it go when Baron Ochs sang the low note that brought the act to it's end.
They were both stiff from sitting for so long. The seating while looking opulent, the theatre had recently been refurbished according to their knowledgeable neighbour, was rather thin and hard, so they walked round to one of the tiny semicircular balconies which projected over the auditorium from which they could get a birds-eye view of the entire theatre.
Jimmy was a little nervous of the lady sitting next to Martin. She was very pleasant but if the conversation become more personal, he hadn't yet worked out a story to cover their relationship, so was glad to be away from her. I'll say that we're stepbrothers if she asks, he decided. That would explain both our different looks and our closeness thought not, he thought with a grin, if she sees us holding hands. Martin looked questioningly at him but he murmured softly, "Tell you later," and couldn't resist putting his hand on the back of Martin's neck as they returned to their seats. Fortunately the lady only appeared at the last moment, pushing her way past reluctantly standing people to get to her seat next to Martin, and smiling at him as she sat down.
Martin who had begun to feel hot during the previous act, had taken off the new anorak and put it between Jimmy and himself, and as soon as the lights went down reached underneath it for Jimmy's hand again. Then turning to the stage, gave himself up to the final act.
After the incredibly complicated opening fugue which he was unable to follow (Jimmy had assured him that no-one else in the audience, including himself, was likely to do any better and just to enjoy what it represented), then the comedy of the missing wig, the ghostly figures, the widow and her pack of brats, and the final revelation of the disguised Octavian as a boy, he recognised the simple dominant seventh chord that introduced the famous trio. The director of the production had wisely allowed Richard Strauss's music to speak for itself. There was no stage business, no movement, just three still figures singing the glorious music.
Even if he had never written anything else Jimmy thought, this alone would have put him up with the greatest, though Strauss once described himself as only a first rate second rate composer. The effect on Martin was equally stunning. Familiar with the piece out of context, seeing and hearing it in it's rightful place in the story overwhelmed him, and along with the rest of the audience, he was spell bound until it finished. Knowing that the end of the opera was still some minutes away he wondered how the composer could follow that sublime music without a feeling of anticlimax. He was not to be disappointed. The acknowledged master of the operatic stage brought them down from the heights with a sure and delicate touch. As the lovers left the stage after their final duet, and the little black page came back to pick up Sophie's dropped handkerchief then run off, waving it triumphantly, the masterpiece ended with a chuckle on precisely the right note, leaving him totally overjoyed and satisfied. With the rest of the audience he clapped until his hands were sore and never even noticed it.
Back at the flat they talked happily while they had a second supper. It always astonished Martin how hungry he could get, though he didn't really eat a great deal when food was put before him. Then they went eagerly into the bedroom and this time, Martin allowed Jimmy to undress him without shame or embarrassment even though the very thought of being in bed with him again had given him a aching erection. Once their clothes were off, he came to Jimmy and put his arms around him saying in a thickened voice, "Thank you Jimmy, I can't think when I've enjoyed anything so much. I'll always remember it."
Jimmy ruffled his hair, put his arms around him and kissed him. "It was my pleasure, kiddo," he said. "I enjoyed you enjoying it, and we're going to do it lots more times."
Martin smiled at him like the sky lightening after a storm, and Jimmy thought that he must take some photos of him sometime. He wished they could be of him without his clothes, but he knew that he could never get them developed anywhere and anyway he wasn't about to let anyone else look at his boy in that state. Maybe I'll take them anyway and just keep the film somewhere safe he decided as he turned Martin to face the bed and gave him a delicate swat on the small, pert, buttocks carefully avoiding the bruise where he had been dropped.
"In with you," he said, admiring the play of muscles as Martin got into bed. He really is lovely everywhere and one of these days when he's ready ...
He wasn't able to finish the thought. As soon as he got into bed himself, Martin swarmed lovingly all over him and there was no room for any thoughts other than happiness, rising desire, joy, ecstasy and blissful release.
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