It Started With Snow
Winter. It’s not everybody’s favourite season in Essex. For starters it rains- a lot. Then at the arse end of winter (when it should really be spring) the county decides that it’s the best time to coat the place in snow and ice. Okay so that’s maybe a little melodramatic but it’s pretty fucking wet and windy.
So why start by telling you about the weather? Well it’s kind of explains something later on and I wanted to have a good moan about something so… ya know “two birds one stone.”
Okay so this is the part I introduce myself and give you my stats yeah? Alright I’m Dominic and when this all happened I had just turned 18, I had just started the last year of 6th form college which- let’s face it- was a fucking drag. Let me explain a little. I went to a 6th form that was attached to a Christian comprehensive. That meant on top of college work we were expected to do prefect duties which basically meant standing in corridors and taking shit from kids that you’d slap across the face in any other situation.
The upside to this was the uniform. Most colleges don’t bother but as we were attached to a school we still had to do shirts and ties. This wasn’t the usual grey trousers and plain white shirts affair; nor where there a load of undone top button’s and ridiculously short ties that you saw on the little chav wannabes in the lower years. There was quite a lot of flexibility to the dress code so long as there was a tie and smart trousers involved. As most people who have gone through that certain age barrier will know, there comes a point when being ‘unique’ by dressing just a tramp-like and scruffy as your peers stops being attractive. In short, around the age of 16-18, people suddenly realise that if you dress the part you look the part.
Now I wasn’t exactly a raving, hands-in-the-air, open closet kind of guy- but I was out to my friends and that meant a lot at the time. Lets skip the angsty ‘my-life-as a teenager was so boring at times’ stuff cos that’s a given. In 6th form you study, you come home, you sleep and that’s your routine until the weekend when you fill your time doing a lot of pointless stuff that seems really important at the time. It doesn’t change when you get older no matter how exciting you think your life is you still get held down in some sort of routine. That is why we set out to have a little leisure time (holidays, parties, days out etc) and make sure that we take pleasure in the small things in life.
At 18 one of my small pleasures was my journey home from college. Have you ever had a bunch of regular faces on your commute? Ya know people who happen to be on the same buses, heading in the same direction as you at the same time every day? Well my bus was filled with more than a few old biddys and a fair few school aged kids heading home at the end of the day. Then there was HIM. Oh yes Fitty McFit. I could only guess at his age but I would have said 18 maybe 20. But he was easily ft tall and looked a bit Nordic. If he had got on the bus one day dressed like a Viking he wouldn’t have looked out of place. Well- no one would tell him if he did because he had arms like some sort of berserker. That isn’t to say he was one great hulking shape. He just had perfect definition in all the right places.
God I would have given anything to know his name. I sat directly behind him a few times to see if he had anything on him that would tell me his name. I looked at his screen over his shoulder whenever he sat there playing with his mobile. I tried every feasible approach except actually talking to him. Now, believe me, I had a ton of fantasies where I started up a conversation or just walked over there a stuck my tongue down his throat.
But this is England and in England you don’t just walk up and say hi to a stranger. You might ‘strike’ up a conversation under the right set of circumstances but there’s no way on God’s green earth that you’d simply walk up to someone and say “Hi my name is…” It’s against the unwritten laws of London- if you did it you’d be thought of as a total nutter and people would be more likely to politely say hi back whilst edging away from you.
I cannot tell you how many times I brought myself off thinking about this guy in my bedroom or on an empty bus or even (just one time) out in the wilderness after he’d captured me whilst raiding my village. okay so that last one was a little elaborate for a wank fantasy and I’m not that into being dominated but I’d be a fool not to go for the obvious fantasy when he looked like he did right?
Anyways this all kicked off at the end of January and it had already started snowing on and off but none of it had really settled. If any of you guys from abroad have picked up a paper then you’ll know that, for some strange reason, the British media treats the possibility of snow as if the world is about to end despite the fact that the country seems to have managed to cope for the last few thousand years. Anyway- the forecast said there’d be a small blizzard but one look outside told the anybody with sense that, for now at least, the roads were clear and the pavements were nothing more than a bit damp.
My day started like any other getting showered and dressed with enough time to enjoy a cup of tea before I set out into the cold beyond. I was quite lucky that my bus stop was only at the end of the road so I could put off leaving until the exact moment I needed to. If I remember rightly it was a Wednesday so I had a double PE session first thing in the morning. Oh yes even at 18 years old we still had to have a compulsory PE session once a fortnight. The upside of this was that the usual mini-Hitler teachers had no part in it what so ever. They were reserved for making the lower-years suffer. We had whatever members of staff fancied getting involved and didn’t have any lessons on at the time. This included Ms Urzule: a blatant lesbian who spent a lot of her free time rubbing the Christians up the wrong why by doing outrageous things like talking about her girlfriend in the staff-room or (and this really stung the bible bashers in the school) actually answering the question “are you a Lesbian” by simply saying “Yes I am.” To put it simply: Ms Urzule was awesome.
She didn’t once try to talk down to 6th formers and accepted the occasional bit of banter so long as people remembered she was in charge. Not a hard task when you’re talking about a woman who could bench-press her own body weight. Anyways I didn’t actually mind these PE session on account of the fact you could choose what you did and no one really minded if you went for a wander. Nobody minded- it was a compulsory lesson with very little supervision and no bugger had any real interest in it. It was just a bit of fun. I chose badminton as one of my options and this lesson usually began with Urzule going completely Venus Williams on my arse. The woman could turn a shuttlecock into something lethal.
I quite liked starting the day by getting the blood pumping. After about an hour of knocking the shuttlecock back and forth and swapping partners about I thought I ‘d sneak out to go and get some water. It may have been freezing outside (and in the sports hall) but I knew the changing rooms would be quite toasty. This little plan had the added bonus that I could check on my phone. Yeah at that point I still hadn’t worked out that since I was 18 and I only really knew other 18 year-olds the likely hood of me getting a text whilst everybody else was in a lesson or at work was nil.
Now came the part that really set the tone for the day. You must understand how much of a torture this incident was for me. Being made horny when you can do nothing about it but think on it and feel your hormones raging is bad enough without seeing what I saw. As I said this lesson was staffed by people with absolutely nothing better to do who couldn’t bear the staffroom anymore. This meant that we got quite a mix of people turning up. One of them had been the newest teaching assistant a guy who had just left university and was working on getting that all important experience he would need to… get more experience and become a teacher. Yep didn’t make sense to me either but like any part of the job market they all want to know that you’ve had tons of experience doing whatever before they take you on and train you, telling you to forget what you know and do it their way.
Anyway I snuck back into the changing rooms hoping to skive off of ten minutes of compulsory exercise only to get the surprise of my life. An exaggeration: the surprise of my life came years later when I discovered my flat mate had a secret persona: Lady Bluebell. But this was pretty damn surprising. The young teaching assistant had one of my mates, Lewis, backed up against the wall with one hand in his shorts. It didn’t take more than a second to realise he wasn’t playing with my mates cock; the hand motions and the look on Lewis’ face said it all. Yep Lewis was definitely getting fingered by the teaching assistant.
I should probably take a time-out at this point to say that, yes, technically speaking what I was seeing was an illegal act. Lewis was 18- just like me- but this was a member of staff. This stuff actually happens quite a lot (apparently) but it doesn’t come to light until after the college student has graduated and they can openly be a couple, if that’s even their intention. It’s not like the actual act was illegal, Lewis was my age and able to make his own decision- even if he had currently decided that what he wanted most in the world was to skive off of a PE lesson so that he could get his boy cunt played with by a hot teaching assistant.
They hadn’t spotted me. I wasn’t too stunned to move- lets be rid of that cliché all together- this sight was too hot to miss so I stood and I took in the scene. My own hand had already slid over the growing package in my own white shorts as the action got a little more intense. Lewis had his eyes closed and was biting down on his lip so hard that there was actually a tiny bead of blood barely visible.
He suddenly withdrew his hand from Lewis’ shorts and began sucking on his fingers. I’m not gonna lie, my cock jumped just watching him savouring the taste of Lewis’ boy-pussy on his digits. Suddenly Lewis was spun around to face the tiled wall, his hands flat against it above his head and the hot TA on his knees behind him- slowly peeling his shorts and boxers down to just below his arse.
It was then that Lewis turned his head and saw me. His eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to say something but only a moan escape as his partner in crime began feasting on him. There is no other word for it. In all my life I have never seen anyone as in to ass as that guy obviously was. This wasn’t some polite artistic approach to eating Lewis out- hell no. There was no finesse, no style to what he did next. It was raw and passionate and animalistic and made my cock physically leak in my shorts.
Lewis could only groan and try to grasp at the tiled surface of the wall as ate every inch of his ass. He bit into his arse cheeks nibbling the insides of the cheeks near Lewis’ twitching hole. Lewis had his eyes screwed up so tight it seemed like he had completely forgotten I was there. In fact he was now pushing his arse back onto the older guys face, desperate to have more of his savage attentions. This guy was making low guttural sounds as he nipped, sucked and tongued every inch of the 18 year-old in front of him. His hands dug into the cheeks, desperately trying to open his young-lover up so he could taste more and more of him.
I can’t remember how long I watched them. Lewis only looked up at me once and gave me a complete an utter shit-eating grin (which in the circumstances was quite appropriate duh-dum-tsh). Then it occurred to me that I had been gone too long and if anyone came looking for me to tell me I was taking the piss they’d end up seeing what I was watching right now. Cursing my common-sense I decided to leave quietly, readjusting my hard-on so it wouldn’t be too obvious. I had never really thought of Lewis in a sexual sense but I left the changing room making a mental note to see what all the fuss was about with his pussy. The dude had eaten it like it was pure crack (I know I should go into stand-up).
When I got back to the sports hall (and my hard-on had abated to a semi) I looked out of the upper windows to see it had indeed started snowing. By the time the last hour of the lesson was up it was coming down so hard that we had to have an ’emergency meeting’ on our break. I know- pathetic.
It was explained to us like this. It was snowing heavily and it was only going to get worse. The rest of the school would have to put in a full day because the school had a duty of care to them during school hours. We, however, were a 6th form college and could leave of our own free will if that’s what we wished. I can only imagine what the scene looked like from the deputy-head’s point of view. We were out of there so fast it must have looked like the rapture had finally happened.
So I had to get two buses home and already they were full to bursting with a hundred and one old pensioners returning from shopping and whatever else the retired do. Everybody was trying to get onto the buses before- you guessed it- the fresh snow got to a shocking 5ml deep and it was deemed too dangerous for the buses to travel. If from overseas is laughing at this point then please do go ahead. Criticise the British about anything and you have a fight on your hands except- for our handling of a little snow, the brutal reign of our empire (sorry) and Piers Morgan (again really sorry). When it comes to these issues most of us will take the criticism. And lo! what was the topic of conversation on the buses do ya think?
Yep, the weather. Specifically how all the oldies could remember much worse weather than this and they never had all this fuss. The handful of younger people shared a few glances as these comments were made. Myself, I just wanted to lean over and remind them all that they had shorter life expectancies “back in the day” and didn’t have much of a commute to work and school either. But hey I digress.
So the wheels on the bus go round and round and I’m pressed up against an old lady who insists on standing far, far too close. Her perm is so big it’s like I have a face full of a white and grey clown wig. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, it’s now getting really stuffy on the bus. We pass through the shopping centre and like miracle in a dark place who should be standing with the masses at the shops? Oh yes indeedy. It was HIM. I had to change buses soon anyway so why not get off at this stop? I swear to god if he really had have been a Viking and I’d spotted THAT coming over the snowy fields I would have rolled out the welcome mat, brought out the drinks and got ready to be pillaged.
I got off of the bus and walked as close to the shelter as I could. People were pressed together quite unselfconsciously as they tried to shrug off the heavy snowfall. Viking guy (ya know HIM) was standing just to side of the shelter but close enough to be out of the worst of the snowfall. I went and stood next to him as casually as I possibly could. That’s surprisingly hard when you are fighting down the urge to just stare for a while.
We must have stood there for at least twenty-minutes and people were beginning to fuss- thinking that the buses must have already stopped. I took the opportunity to look up at Viking guy and shrug- indicating the gaggle of old-girls taking the time to complain and got a smile back. What a fucking smile it was. It was cute and hot at the same time. It somehow managed to convey a shyness in spite of the fact that it belonged to someone so good-looking you’d have expected him to be at a studio somewhere going shirtless for a magazine. That thought didn’t help things. Imagining this stranger topless just made me feel even more awkward.
This whole time my brain was screaming at me to say hello or at least make some stupid comment to try and start up a conversation. I wanted to hear what he sounded like. Would his voice be really deep? Would it be rough or maybe a bit cool and chilly? Despite the cold outside I was beginning to feel my cheeks flush with a combination of embarrassment and anticipation. I was trying to play a few sentences through in my head- thinking of a way to start a conversation up. Just as I opened my mouth to speak the bus finally came round the corner and pulled up.
Unsurprisingly I ended up standing which provided the next round of torture for me. Low and behold on the overcrowded bus I was pressed up against you know who. This close my nostrils were filled with a new cocktail of smells. There was a faint trace of some sough of hair product- maybe it was a shampoo? He was wearing an aftershave that was really doing a number on my senses but above all that there was one smell that was definitely him.
Okay. Pause. Yes I may have been standing on a bus sniffing a stranger like some sought of creepy pervert- or a dog. Newsflash I was eighteen, he was hot and I’d just witnessed one of my mates being eaten-out by a teaching assistant. Of course I was thinking like a creepy pervert. All teenagers are borderline creepy- it’s the hormones. That’s why we mature and learn about things like acceptable behaviour. But back to the point I was getting hornier by the second and my inhibitions (and my common-sense) were rapidly disappearing.
The unthinkable occurred five minutes into the journey where the bus hit solid traffic. I’m lying. It was ‘thinkable’ I had been thinking of a way to prolong that moment the whole time and ta dah the God of the Gayers comes through and causes a traffic jam. By then there was of course an English uproar on the bus- which is like a normal uproar except its quieter, involves a lot of ‘tutting’ and a level of aggression less than or equal to sighing loudly and/or shoulder shrugging.
“Well that’s us stuck for a while.”
and I was so busy absorbing the shock I stood there smiling like a nun with concussion whilst he stared at me oddly waiting for a response. Eventually my hind-brain got some sort of message through to the rest of my mind and I managed to come up with something to say.
YEAH? What a dick. A perfect opening for a conversation and I respond with one word. I have to admit that this incident was immediately filed under ‘awkward adolescent memories’. Everybody has them. They’re the embarrassing memories that creep up on you for no reason in later life so that you have to cover your ears and “la la la” to make them go away. Just me…? Anyways-
“How come they let you out of school?”
Well bollocks- second chance and I wasn’t going to screw it up, “I’m a 6th former, they don’t have to keep 18-year-olds in college, just kids.” BOOM. We have made contact and we have established that I am of breeding age. Well done Dominic.
“Oh sorry the tie…” he trailed of indicating the offending item just visible in the v of my jacket collar.
“Oh we have to wear a uniform but its fine. If I went to any other college I’d end up surrounded by people wearing the same outfit as me anyway right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well everybody would be trying to fit in and wear the same designer gear, either that or they’d all try and be alternative by shopping in Topman.” I replied with a certain level of distaste.
“I see…” he said with a smirk. Id’ over stepped the mark somewhere. This wasn’t going the way I wanted it to.
“What do you do? How come you’re travelling back during the day, I usually see you on the bus in the afternoon.” Hell’s yeah, it was a good subject change and we’d just established the I know you, you know me bit. To my relief he actually smiled at this- and what a smile. If I were a novelist in the nineteenth century I might say that his eyes glittered like the rarest of diamonds, filled with a thousand untold stories. However I am not and so I can tell you straight that they glinted with mischief and made my dick twitch.
“College was closed,” he replied simply.
“Oh you’re a student?” In the privacy of my own head there was a fanfare.
“No I just run the library.” The inner-fanfare made a flatulent noise and petered out.
Silence. It was the worst kind. He obviously had nothing he wanted to say and I was dying for to say anything but had no way to approach it. It took another twenty minutes to reach the next stop- by the time we got there people got off of the bus and decided to walk home rather wait in the endless traffic. That freed up two seats right at the back of the bus and to my surprise Viking guy motioned for me to follow him to sit down.
“That’s better. Have you got far to go?”
“Quite far,” I responded, “But not quite to the end of the line.”
“Likewise,” he replied and then this weird expression came across his face as if he were thinking of something. “I’m Wes by the way.”
“Oh, erm, Dom,” I responded stumbling over the words in an effort to hide my excitement.
“So, what do you wanna do after college Dom?” Holy-mother of God! He was going for the neutral adult talking to child questions. That had to go. Even in my adolescent awkwardness I knew how to do that.
“Well I’m 18 now and I’m off to uni come september. I can’t wait to get away for a little bit and have some fun.” My own conscience gave me a standing ovation for this one- “some fun”- classic, non-descript and totally open for interpretation. “How long have you worked at the library?”
“Oh only a year, I’m on a course to become a fitness instructor.” He must have interpreted the look I gave him as a question. “I was already working at the library and I haven’t been able to get a job at any of the local gyms yet.” Something told me that he had, had to explain this situation several times. Still- a fitness instructor? who would have thought aye? ERR EVERYBODY! the dude was hot, of course he was into fitness.
We began to make more idle talk as the bus slowed to a halt once again. I found out that Wes only lived a few streets away from me (YAY) and that he was in fact 20. Fabulous news because that meant there was only a two year age gap. SO this was going swimmingly- I was in a ‘stuck in the lift scenario’ with a total hotty and we were having a friendly conversation. We began to talk about pubs we had been to and weekend plans, the usual stuff. The trouble is it was going down the innocent-friends route and I wasn’t going to have any of that. It was a risk but I had to ask about the fitness.
“So you’re a pretty big guy, do you go to the gym a lot or…?”
“At least three times a week and I try to do a lot of running on the weekends.” The speed of his answer told me that this fitness thing must have been his one true passion. It was kind of sad to think he was in a library doing a job that pretty much entailed exactly the opposite. Stay focused- show interest.
“Wow so you must be built like- ya know,” I trailed off not wanting to cross a line by swearing at him.
“Oh I aim to be- not that you can tell underneath all the layers,” he said indicating the his coat, scarf etc. I daren’t tell him that I was doing my best to imagine it.
The bus lurched on bit by bit. When I checked the time I realised it was now half twelve- I had left college at 11! At the next stop, yet more people abandoned the bus in favour of walking. A part of me thought about following their lead but I resisted. Wes sighed a little dramatically as the doors closed again and the bus- well I was about to say set-off but it remained in the same stationary lane of traffic.
“ya know I completely forgot- nobody will be at home by the time I get back.”
“You don’t have a key?” my twenty year-old travelling companion asked with a quizzical look.
“Oh I do but something’s up with the heating so I’m gonna have to wait for my dad to get back from work tonight to get it fixed. Its freezing in my house at the moment.”
“My parents are away for the week.” He replied as if he had not been listening, “They’ve gone to morocco for a holiday. Its worked out for me cos I got a new xbox game the other day and it means I can play it on the widescreen downstairs without getting moaned at.”
I perked up at this. At last something normal. I’m not dissing fitness enthusiasts because for the most part they’re beautiful people but I was (and still am) a pretty average guy who keeps in shape by not over-eating and has no interest in the gym. I’m not saying that I don’t like being surrounded by built, good-looking, sweaty males, it’s just that they all pose and try to out-do one another and it pisses me off. If I wanted to sweat profusely whilst being judged I’d got to a nightclub and let my fellow gays do it. At least they don’t put on a butch facade whilst judging the bodies of other men. Straight people in gyms- pretty yes- but oblivious to the irony of the situation.
Anyways as I was saying, he liked Xbox games and that hit off another conversation. I must admit I phased in and out a bit. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested it was just that I was fixated on his mouth. I half hopped the driver decided to pull off some dodgy manoeuvre so I end up pressing my face to his. What was really awesome about Wes was that he was actually a pretty decent guy and seemed to live in blissful ignorance of the fact that he would have been hot even if he didn’t work out. It took another half-hour before the bus driver finally called it a day, switched off the engines and ordered everyone off and out into the snow.
The snow itself was fresh and therefore pretty damn easy to walk on. We walked by the seemingly endless stationary traffic and continued talking. He looked completely at home in the snow. Watching him walk through it without worrying about losing his balance or slipping just solidified the image of the Viking in my head. At one point he took hold of my arm to help me keep my balance over a particularly slippery patch. It was just a friendly thing to do but my hormone addled brain bounced a million images around on the inside of my head. His grip was gentle but firm; it certainly foretold of the strength that lay in his arms. We tried to keep up the chatter but we were gradually getting colder and colder as the snow refused to let up. We were getting close to where our bus would have taken us when he stopped dead in front causing me to nearly run into him. I still instinctively placed my hands on his shoulders to maintain my balance.
When he turned around he had another awkward look on his face. “Look If you want you can come back to mine and we can get a few games in and maybe have some lunch? I mean only if you don’t have to get back for anything? You said there was no heating in your place…” again he trailed off as I stared at him with my mouth open. Yes he could have thought I was stupefied by the audacity of his suggestion. I was not. Three things were going through my mind. The first was the many images of what I would do to him if I got the opportunity. This led to the second thing which was the image of Lewis this morning, getting eaten-out by the hot teaching assistant. The third was a mixture of disbelief and the deafening sound of my joy-department thanking the cosmos for this moment.
“Err, yeah sure! Only if you’re sure though I don’t want to put you out or anything,” SHUT UP DOM.
“No really it’d be cool. Come on I’m just up this road here.”
My heart was now trying to beat its way out of my chest. As he led the way uphill through a tree-lined street I became painfully aware of his backside. His arse was perfectly formed and I watched the way the two mounds of flesh moved in his jeans. We arrived at his house a semidetached red brick house with a dark wood door. He let us in and immediately darted to the side to switch off the house alarm. His parents were definitely doing okay for themselves. It wasn’t a palace but someone had clearly put a lot of time, energy and money into the place. They kind of made the hallway and living room look like a vintage cottage whilst the rest of the house was ultra-modern (well ultra modern as imagined by IKEA and B&Q).
Then sudden warmth of the house made realise all at once how cold it was and how wet my clothes actually where. I suddenly felt like I had been standing in torrential rain for an hour. I looked over to Wes to see him experimentally peeling his jeans away from his leg. He looked up at me and laughed.
“I’ve got some spare joggers upstairs c’mon,” and with that he bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time and leaving me dripping in the hallway- and yes as I has the pleasure of watching that fine behind climb the stairs I do mean that in more way than one. I tentatively climbed the stairs after taking off my shoes- I may have been perving on him but I still remembered by manners- and hanging my coat up by the front door. It’s hard not to have a nose around when you’re in someone else’s house and I somehow felt guilty looking through each doorway to see which room he was in. When I got to the last door a caught a glimpse of his stomach as he pulled his jumper off and over his head, dragging his t-shirt up with it. there was a certain level of definition in that brief glimpse of his flesh that was both exciting and intimidating at the same time. I stared too long. as the Jumper cam over his head he saw me standing there transfixed. I cringed at my mistake. There is a fine line between sending a sign and being obvious.
He shrugged this off. He smiled and produced a pair of joggers that smelled of him and began to take off his own trousers whilst I stood stock still in shock. Of course time at the gym would make him a little less body-conscious but hey he didn’t know me and this wasn’t a gym and… he had the fullest looking boxers I’ve ever seen on a guy. In a flash he had pulled his joggers on and motioned for me to do the same. I did. I felt a little awkward but I was determined to get over it. He led the way back downstairs and announced that he’d put something together for lunch. Again I went through the niceties of asking if he was sure and telling him he didn’t need to but he just waved me away. I went back into the living room and he shouted through to go ahead and put something on the television. There was very little on. Day time television sucks donkey dick. In the end I settled for yet another rerun of friends. I’m sure it was ground-breaking back in the day but when you think about it it’s been on television constantly for nearly 20 years. The jokes have been repeated a million times and the references are at least a decade out of date. Still I put it on because it was easy to watch and was a pretty neutral choice (I knew I’d be judged on my choice of program).
I heard the unmistakeable sound of things being diced on a chopping board. Could this guy have got anymore sexy? At the end of the day a face is lovely and a great bum is a nice bonus but give me a nice personality that can cook and I’m ready to pounce on it. If I had to use an analogy it’s a bit like when hetero guys describe the difference between a slag and potential girlfriend/wife material. It’s not all about looks, there are other ways to be sexy and some of them have ‘long-term prospect written all over them’. What the hell was I thinking. I assumed he was straight. This was just a nice guy doing a nice thing for a potential friend that- let’s face it- he’d only really met today. After a while he rejoined me in the living room bringing in two bottles of Stella.
“I thought we could both use one of these after that journey. Dinner will be a few minutes I’m just waiting for the pasta to boil.”
“You made pasta?” I asked in awe.
“No,” he laughed, “I just made the sauce. I like making things from scratch. So what are we watching,” he said dropping onto the sofa next to me.
The smell of his body was flowing off of him and it now fought the smell of food for the attention of my senses. It was all a bit much and I began to flush. The joggers where on the frumpy side but I could see the strength in his legs just from his stance and for the first time I noticed his arms. He was in a t-shirt. They were exposed and the short sleeves stretched around his biceps. I knew I had to stop thinking like this. If I came on to someone when they were just being friendly I’d look like a dick.
“There’s not much on to be honest. Is there anything in particular you wanna watch?”
“Not really- if there’s nothing on I could grab a DVD?” he suggested and before I could answer he leaped up and bounded up the stairs. Okay maybe I wasn’t reading this entirely wrong. He was relaxed yes- but then again he was in his own house. He was also very eager to please. the only thing to do was try to act normal and to see how it played out.
“Here we go,” he said as he returned and dropped a pile of DVD’s on my lap. “I’m just gonna check on dinner while you go through those and pick one out. Pick anything cos I’m up for watching any of them.” Then he was gone again and I could hear him stirring things and moving cutlery and crockery about. I went through the small collection he’d given me and a small smile appeared on my face. What he had given me was a test. Die Hard Four, What Happens in Vegas, Insidious, Bridesmaids and series 3 of Will & Grace. Ok, if he were running a test for stereotypes then the last two were the ones I should choose. I actually really wanted to watch Insidious (I’d seen it before but I love a good horror) but hey if this was the game then it was time for me to make my move. I picked Will & Grace as I felt that was the lesser for sheer campiness.
When he came back in he had a tray containing two bowls of pasta in tomato, basil and garlic sauce- heaped with cheese and two more bottles of bear. I held up my half empty bottle.
“Oh sorry,” he responded non-plussed, “I didn’t know whether you had finished that one or not. “
So he had already made the next mood- alcohol to lower inhibitions. A good move. I hit play and looked for his reaction out of the corner of my eye. Yep definitely a faint smile confirming what he thought was a small victory on his part. Ok. For the next little while I was near enough relaxed. The food was pure heaven. Lord knows what he’d put in the sauce but I had to fight down the urge to lick the bowl. We were both laughing at the show on screen and the tension seemed to drop for a little while. As I drained the last drop from my second bottle of Stella I excused myself to go to the toilet. I offered to take the other DVDs back up and he thanked me and passed them over.
Like I said before I don’t like prying when I go to other people’s houses but this was different. It was an excuse to go into his room without him and see if there were any obvious signs I should be looking out for. You know what I found when I got up there? Nothing, nada- not one thing to give away his preference. Knowing that I couldn’t take too long I put the DVDs on the bed and went to the bathroom to relieve myself.
When I returned There was yet another bottle of larger waiting for me. I smiled at this I couldn’t help it. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow but I made a gesture that said never mind. Ok time to assess the situation. Blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, at least 6ft something, clearly chiselled from granite-not born, great smile, reasonably funny can cook and seems to be nice. What did I have to lose here except a bit of dignity if I were wrong? Regroup and plan your approach Dominic? As the last episode on the disc finished he looked over at me and said:
“Eye spy anyone?”
To which I laughed but suddenly stop as the light bulb lit up in my head.
“What about a game of truth or dare?- a little childish but I think we can make it interesting.”
For the first time he actually looked worried and it was his turn to sit staring and thinking of something to say- I’m not going to lie this pleased me to no end. He looked away and then a look of resolution spread across his face and he sat his larger down.
“Ok you can ask first.” Good move Wes
“Truth or Dare?” I began
“Truth.” He said meeting my gaze.
“hmmm… ok. When did you lose your virginity?” A little further than I should have gone at this point perhaps but I was eager to get the ball rolling.
“17, to a mate from school. At her house” My heart sunk at this but before I the remorse could truly strike me he said, “Truth or Dare Dom?”
“How many times a week do you wank?” Definitely not a straight question and if it was I was going to make him pay for it on my turn. Despite everything, including the three lagers I blushed slightly with embarrassment.
“Honestly? Sometimes twice a day. You?”
“Nice try you’ll have to wait to ask. that much aye?” The smirk he gave me wasn’t derogatory it was pure sex and it made me want to jump him.
“Yes,” I replied defiantly before quickly adding, “Truth or Dare.”
“How often do you…”
“I’m single- as often as I can,” he said cutting me off with another self-confident grin, “Truth or Dare?”
I probably should have thought it through but the speed of his response shocked me and I instantly asked for a dare.
He sat for a while thinking about this. “I can’t actually think of one just yet so… take of your tie and your jumper.” I tried not to let the relief show on my face too much as I complied. The point of this ‘game’ was to keep the upper-hand at all times.
He was wiser than I had been and asked for a truth.
“Have you ever done anything with a guy- and that includes kissing?”
He looked stunned for a second but then the smile was back and his eyes blazed with mischief. “Yes- Truth or Dare?”
DAMMIT! Why hadn’t I seen that one coming? I thought about how this could play out before asking for a Dare. Again he seemed really unsure of what to ask before telling me to get rid of more clothing. I took of my socks with a smug grin to match the ones I ‘d received. As expected he did not go for a truth straight away but instead chose a dare himself.
“Loose the shirt AND the socks,” the words were out of my mouth so quick it felt like I hadn’t even been saying them. He opened his mouth to protest, “Now now, Wes that’s not how this game is played- I say, you do.” He shot me a defiant glare but there was no malice in it. He lifted his top up to reveal a flat, tight stomach that had more than a bit of definition to it before removing his socks as well. I could feel my cock begin to swell in the borrowed joggers and I shifted position a little to make sure it stayed hidden for the time being. something was really bothering me. There was some piece of information that was desperately trying to make itself known; if it had been a word or phrase I would have said it was ‘on the tip of my tongue’.
He now lay back slightly across the sofa so he was facing me with one leg on the sofa, bent at the knee and the foot of the other flat on the floor. He was trying to look casual and it was very obvious.
“Truth or Dare?”
“Truth” I responded in a flash. I couldn’t give him too much time to think or show any apprehension or I would lose control of the situation.
“What’s the furthest you have got with a guy?”
“All the way,” I said going-for broke. I had hoped to follow this up with an immediate ‘truth or dare’ but he suddenly sat bolt upright in shock. “sorry,” I said after an uncomfortable moment, “I thought you kind of guessed.”
“Don’t apologise,” He said so quickly it made me jump. “I did kinda have an idea Its just… I didn’t think you’d have gone that far.” His face was deadpan serious and there was no real emotion to his voice. I really thought I’d blown it and was about to reach for my things and leave when he turned and said, “It’s your turn to ask.”
“Truth..or…dare?” I said trying to study the situation. I was completely at sea here and would have given anything to be able to read his mind.
“Truth,” he said completely poker faced. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore but staring into the distance.
“If you thought what you thought, why did you ask me back?”
“I don’t know really, I felt something, like I wanted to do it like…”
“-an inclination?” I chipped in helpfully.
“Yeah, I wanted to see what would happen and I thought I you were then maybe something would happen. I just thought you might be inexperienced and then it would be, like, safe to take a chance if neither of us…” he trailed off again.
“But you sleep with women?”
“Yes and no. I have slept with women but it doesn’t do anything for me. well not much anyway. Like I said it was like a safe chance to take.”
“there’s no such thing that why its significant to take chances.” I didn’t know how I felt about being a ‘safe chance’ but suddenly there was a vulnerability to him I hadn’t seen before. Then it all clicked into place. He was confident, fantastic looking, strong and in control- except he was also treading new territory here and it was frightening for him. It was like looking at a wounded wolf. Yes it was dangerous and powerful- and even beautiful but you would also feel pity for it.
“Truth or Dare”
“Truth,” I said taking a deep breath.
“What do you really think of me? You’ve seen me on the way back home from college for well over a year now so what was running through your head. I could feel you staring at me all those times you know?”
I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for being rumbled. Even at that moment where it had already been laid out and demystified, I still felt awkward realising that he had always known I had an interest in him.
“I thought you were incredibly attractive,” I said and he smiled and shook his head. “No honestly,” I said shuffling over to sit right next to him, “I thought you looked perfect.” He was staring at his feet now but his smile remained. I wanted to look him in the eyes. I wanted to know what he was thinking.
“What do you think of me now?” he said almost mournfully. I didn’t have the heart to say “wait it’s my turn to ask”. The idea that someone like this was somehow down on themselves, that they could actually be embarrassed that I’d gone a little further with guys, this whole concept was alien to me.
“I think that I’ve really enjoyed this afternoon and that your easy to be around and my opinion of how you look has actually improved now I’ve seen you without a top.” I said trying to make him laugh. I got a smile so that was something. He looked really conflicted. I honestly didn’t want to push anything with him. If he had gone off on one I wouldn’t have stood a chance. It’d take three of me just to compete with his strength, I knew that. Yet there was something there I couldn’t walk away from. I wanted him more now that he was not something on a pedestal. I wanted more ‘him’. More time with him, with his smell and his smile.
He sighed and leaned back onto the sofa. “your turn,” He said and took a long drink from his lager.
“Truth or Dare,” I said my gaze never leaving his beautiful but downcast face.
“Dare,” and he smirked at some internal joke. It may just have been my imagination but I could have swore I saw the beginning of a tear forming in his eye. His pride was hurt- he thought he had made a complete fool of himself.
I found my own courage at that moment as I gently took him by the chin and turned his face to mine. “I dare you to take a real chance,” And then I kissed him.
To start with he sat there frozen and my stomach lurched as I realized I may have made a massive mistake. Then I was on my back, my body completely covered by his as he returned the kiss tenfold. He may not have had much experience with guys but kisses are universal. He had either had a lot of practice or this was one hell of a natural talent. I was suddenly encased in his arms and for the first time I had a real idea of his strength and size. After what seemed like an age (but certainly not long enough!) he broke off the kiss. He raised his head just a little a gazed down at me. All of his confidence was back and the smirk across his face proved it. He began lightly brushing my lips with his whilst his bare feet gently stroked mine. It was driving me crazy. My hand instinctively went up to his blonde hair to pull him in for another deep kiss.
I moved my hands down his back feeling his muscles tense as he steadied himself above me and continued play his tongue alongside mine. It was then that I became aware of his hard cock pressed against my hip. It felt enormous and the image of the animalistic Viking instantly filled my mind once again. My hands had worked my way down to his firm arse. It felt every bit as perfect as it had looked through his jeans. I began to kneed the flesh in the palms of my hands, gently applying enough pressure to make his manhood press harder against my hip. He began to slowly rock forward of his own accord, gently rubbing himself against me through the thick material of our joggers. The whole time he hadn’t stopped kissing me and stroking my feet with his as our bodies lay entwined on the sofa.
It was not the speed but the force of his thrusting that began to increase. Then his breathing became heavier and his kisses deeper and hungrier. He didn’t really let out a moan as he began to gyrate hips. It was more a low grunt the reverberated through his body and mine. I broke of the kiss and began to gently nibble and suck on his neck. This pushed him over the edge and he began to make a determined fuck motion using his superior strength to press into my body even harder. He was beginning to give himself over to his body’s demands and I was right there with him.
Suddenly he had my hips in his hands and he spun me over as if I weighed nothing. I felt him pull the joggers down below my arse so viciously I thought he would tear them. I heard him spit- and only then did it occur to me what was going to happen. Too late. He was on to off me again and had forced the head of his cock into me in one motion. I yelped with the pain but he didn’t seem to notice. he was too far gone, lost in the moment. I could feel his heartbeat on my back and his breath on my neck as he gripped one wrist in one of his massive hands whilst using the other one to guide himself further into me. He forced more of himself in and I felt the lightning strike of pain pass through my insides in response to the invasion. He was big. Very big.
I knew his full length was not in me yet but he let his other hand leave his cock to grip hold of my hair as he began to fuck himself into my 18 year-old man cunt. It wasn’t tender It was violent. But I wanted it. This was his first time. He was fucking out his fears and his lust and his hidden desires. He bit and sucked at my neck and shoulder, all the while stabbing further and further into my insides. The pain had begun to subside as he began fucking me a little harder. This was more than I had imagined when I had first seen him, when I’d fantasised and watched from afar. Here he was marking my skin with his mouth and owning me in the most brutal, lust filled and meaningful way he could. In this brief moment my body was his. In return I would be his first, the one who took the fear away and gave him what he longed for.
He sped the pace up a little more before biting down into my shoulder once more and muffling a scream of agonising pleasure. I gasped and panted as I felt his dick throb and a warmth run into my insides whilst the motion deep inside me slowed and was finally still. We lay like that for a while. His breath heavy in my ear. I could hear my own heartbeat as the blood pulsed around my ears. As that began to slow all that was left was warmth of his body on top over mine and the fading glow of the moment.
There was silence. Now I was the one who needed reassuring. Now I was the one without confidence. In my head I’d played this fantasy through a thousand times. It didn’t mean anything then. Now, laying with him… I wanted more. Yet he was completely silent. I was trying to fight back the rising panic and shame. Had I just lost the game? was that what I was a safe chance? A means to an end? Had I just been used in the worst way possible.
“Truth or dare?” came his deep voice directly in my ear.
“Truth,” I said with the slightest trace of a sob in my voice.
“Do you want to stay with me Dominic?”
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