Date: Mon, 13 Dec 1999 12:57:18 -0000
From: jon60@hotmail.com
Subject: Show Time Part 2

This is a work of fiction, pure and simple. It should not be taken as
encouraging anything at all which is considered improper or illegal in your
neighborhood. If you are under age you shouldn't be reading it anyway.

Feel free to copy or post this story provided you acknowledge that it is
copyright jon60@hotmail.com.

Show time Part 2.

I don't know how long that first embrace between Phil and me went on. It
felt like for ever - it felt like seconds. However long, it was too short
because there was a knock on the wall and dad called

"Will you two boys stop larking about and settle down. It's late and we
have to be up in the morning."

"Yes, Dad. Sorry Dad".

I could feel the bed moving. Phil had his face buried in the pillow and his
shoulders were shaking with poorly suppressed laughter. Suddenly the funny
side struck me too, and all I could do was join him, half suffocating in
the pillow, then every time either of us began to recover the other would
nudge him and we were off again.

Eventually, Phil leaned across and whispered

"I've heard it called some things, but never larking about...." and that
set us both off again, especially as all we had done was to kiss and hug
one another.

"Here's a lesson for life." I whispered back "Never try to have an illicit
love affair in a creaky bed with your parents in the next room!"

By the time we finished laughing we were so worn out and it was so late
that we just kissed and went to sleep in one another's arms. I tried, with
that tender kiss, to express all the joy and wonder and care for Phil that
had come to me in the last hour, since I had realised what love
meant. There was all the time in the world for other things.

I hate mornings. I've never understood why we have to go to bed when we're
not tired and get up when we are, and I always feel horrible until I've had
time to come round. Mum knocked on the door.

"Breakfast in half an hour, boys. Bathroom's free".

As I came round, I remembered with wonder what had happened last
night. There, in my arms, was the man I loved. I looked at his face with
delight, and even bleary-eyed and stubbly he was beautiful. I rubbed my
hand across his chin.

"You're no boy with a chin like that in the morning! And that thing poking
in to my gut is all man, and I love you for it. My man; my lover and my
man"

"Stop getting maudlin" was the only comment from Phil. "Come on, it's time
to get up before I have to pee on the sheets". He jumped out of bed. I say
it again, he JUMPED out of bed, and at that moment I wondered if I could
bear to live with someone who jumped instead of crawling out of bed. Then
it struck me - what was happening to my mind? Already I was thinking about
what it would be like to live with this man. Oh, well, perhaps it was just
his bladder that made him jump. I had another five minutes to doze.

He breezed in, bright and cheerful. "Come on dozy! I thought you'd have
been up and about by now." It was almost the end of a beautiful
relationship, then I looked at him and knew it would take a lot more than
his being cheerful in the mornings to make me stop loving him.

He stripped and started to dress whilst I lay there for just a moment
longer enjoying watching him. That gorgeous cock certainly said 'man', not
'boy' and it was all mine. He saw me watching and it began to swell.

"John, we've got to talk. We've got to get together without worrying about
disturbing anybody else and talk things through"

"If we get a chance to be quiet like that, it's not talk that I want. I
want that body and I want it in every way we can think of, then we'll find
ways we haven't thought of yet."

"Shut up and get up" was the only response I got, but when I finally
struggled out of bed, the hug I got, and the gentle squeeze of my cock said
everything.

"John, don't you think you'd better put those shorts on before you go
across the landing? Or did you want to give the girls heart failure?"

It probably would have done since I had a morning hard-on exaggerated by
unashamed lust for Phil.

I went to the bathroom, and even there it struck me how wonderful he was -
I shave about twice a week and don't really need to then, but he obviously
shaved daily. Back to the bedroom and get dressed - a difficult job today
since he cupped my balls so I couldn't get my underpants on, then started
to tickle me in some very personal spots.

"John, like I said, we've got to talk. Can you get away this afternoon?
I'll slip out of school and my parents will both be out at work"

My heart sank. "It's impossible - today's my day at college and the boss
always checks up". I don't think I said that I'm training as a hairdresser,
and I do four days in the shop (exciting things like washing old ladies'
hair and sweeping up) and one day at college learning the theory.

"What about tonight? I'll miss my workout". It was then I knew he loved me
(as if I didn't know already). His gym sessions were sacred.

"I've promised to take Sue to see a film, and tomorrow I work late at the
shop. Saturday we're all four going up to London to see a show. I'm free
all day Monday and Tuesday." By this time I was beginning to feel fated -
could it really be this hard for the two of us to get together? Mum called
to say breakfast was ready.

"Monday it is - we can have the whole day." And down we went to eat. I was
gloomy again - four days before we could get together - really get
together. I wanted to get my hands on his body, and perhaps even more
important, to get his hands on my body.

That day at college was one of the most embarrassing days I can ever
remember. When you are 16 and in love and lusting after the one you love,
it's like having a live puppy in your pants. It jumps up unexpectedly, it
won't lie down when you tell it and it leaves sticky patches behind. Every
time I saw a blond head or a pair of broad shoulders, I was up and ready,
and desperately hoping that no-one would look below my waist. It was easier
at work, because old ladies with blue rinses are the world's ultimate
passion killers, and my evening out with Sue made me feel so guilty that it
had much the same effect. This was one thing that Phil and I would have to
sort out - what about the girls?

The hardest time of all was Saturday evening. We had arranged to go as a
foursome to see a show in London, and Phil and I had to spend the evening
behaving as if nothing had happened between us.

During this time, I desperately wanted to wank off (good English word for
you there) but I resisted because I wanted to save everything for Phil.

Monday came. I rang his doorbell. The door opened but there was nobody to
be seen. I heard his voice

"Come in quick." The door closed, and there my lovely Phil was, behind the
door, completely naked and looking ready for a pole-vaulting championship.

"I thought I'd surprise you!"

I was already half-way out of my clothes, but he stopped me.

"Come upstairs. I want to do that for you. I've dreamed of slowly
undressing you and kissing each bit of your body as it becomes bare. I
should be upstairs anyway because I told mum I had a bad head and would
stay in bed"

Then the accident happened. I'd stored everything up for Phil and, his
promise of stripping me slowly was too much. I came in my pants - new ones,
too. I'd bought some very stylish Calvin Klyne gear specially for
today. Now they were wet and sticky. I told Phil what had happened and why
I was blushing, and he laughed almost as much as he had on Wednesday, then
kissed me - it started gentle, but became a tongue-sharing, passionate oral
rape which I loved. Only thing was, my clothes were in the way of a real
body to body embrace.

He led me to his room, sat me on the bed and, kneeling in front of me,
untied my Reeboks and slipped them off, then my socks, and began to kiss my
feet and suck my toes.

"I've read that this is very sexy. How does it feel?"

It felt good but it wasn't what I wanted. "Toes later if you like, but
that's not what I want sucked now. But please, Phil, let me suck you. Your
cock is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I want it."

He didn't answer, just kept working on my feet, driving me mad with
frustration. I started to unbuckle my belt, but he saw what I was doing and
pleaded with me

"I've spent days dreaming about how I want to do this, and I want to make
my dream true. Please, let me do it my way"

How could I not agree?

He left my feet and slid my shirt up and over my head and shoulders, then
kissed my fingers and started to wash my hand and arm with his tongue. He
pushed my arm up and buried his face in my armpit

"Even that smells good!"

"So it should - I bought some CK deodorant and it cost me a fortune"

"Next time, don't wear it" Phil begged "I want to taste you, not perfume".

By now I could reach down with my other hand to touch the cock which
tormented me by having been out of reach, but Phil pulled away.

"Don't spoil it, please. This first time I want to do it like I dreamed
of."

He was driving me mad. It was terrible, but it was also wonderful, and as
he continued to wash my arms with his tongue, I was reaching levels of
need, frustration and sheer passion I didn't know I had. He reached across
and stroked my hairless chest, then began, very gently, to tease my right
nipple, and almost made me come again.

The telephone rang. Why was nothing ever simple for us?

"I'll have to answer - that will be mum to see if I'm OK"

I lay on the bed - should I keep faith with his request and keep my jeans
and sticky underpants or do what I wanted and strip whilst Phil was on the
phone? Then I had an idea of how to get my revenge on Phil.


Part 3 soon. Comments very welcome by jon60@hotmail.com