Date: Thu, 31 Dec 2009 12:49:36 +0000
From: Josh Cock <joshcock@hotmail.com>
Subject: Simon's Boy Part Four A

I stood in the warm, June morning sun, watching my boy and his young
partner coming up the second fairway. My balcony overlooked it and I knew
I'd have a good view of fourteen year old Sam playing his second shot on
this par five, a hole Sam had come to regard as a regulation birdie.

I'd invested in the best clubs around before we left England, and when Sam
had blanched at the price, I told him he'd need them if he turned out to be
any good.

"What if I'm crap?" he'd wailed when the pro had left us for a moment.

"You won't be, Sam," and I had a fair idea he wouldn't be from the way he
was swinging an iron.

"But if I am? I've never even held one of these before."

"You'll learn." I looked him straight in the eyes, "Remember our deal?
You'd learn to play golf. And I know you'll learn because you love me."

It wasn't fair, of course, but it was an argument Sam had no possible
answer to.

Now he was good. The club pro had taken one look at him when I took him for
his first lesson and didn't believe the boy had never before hit a golf
ball. Several weeks of intensive lessons, plus lots and lots of practice, a
natural talent and Sebastian's continued coaching, had produced a fourteen
year old who played off two, and who had already half filled a shelf in our
lounge with trophies.

Today's competition was an under sixteen open, and the only lad likely to
stop Sam from adding to his collection was the boy he was playing with. Two
or three months younger than Sam, he came from the most expensive club in
Sevilla and played off four. Like Sam, he was tall for his age, but a bit
less slender. Unlike Sam, he had never known hardship or deprivation,
coming from a wealthy, very wealthy, family in the city. He also had
amazingly blond hair, not something you normally see in Andalucía.

Sam looked up at our balcony, waved and smiled, selected his club – I
knew it would be a three wood which he'd land not far short of the elevated
green, leaving him a simple lob wedge to put the ball close to the pin for
a probable tap in birdie.

He seemed to strike it cleanly, watched the flight intently, and then
turned back to our balcony, lifting his club in the air to let me know he'd
done what he intended. I watched him and his young partner stride off, deep
in animated conversation – Sam was now a fluent Spanish speaker as well
as a talented young golfer – and busied myself with household cleaning
until I was due to meet him at the clubhouse for lunch, and, hopefully, see
him collect yet another trophy.

I was down at the clubhouse half an hour before I expected him to finish,
mainly so I could grab us decent seats for lunch. It was a full, Spanish
set lunch, and the other lads playing would all have their entire families
with them, all intent on having a celebration afternoon, there would be no
easy space for any late arrivals!

I booked our places and went out to the courtyard to enjoy a beer and wait
for Sam. I was actually on my third before I saw him marching over from the
changing rooms, still in animated conversation with the fair haired lad
he'd been playing with.

"Tasty boy," I thought as they got closer and I could have a good look.

The moment Sam saw me his face lit up and I knew there was another trophy
on its way.

"Good one, Sam?" I asked.

"Magnifico!" the other lad said before Sam could answer.

"Not that good, really," Sam said, trying to compose his face into one that
showed minor disappointment rather than the boyish delight that wanted to
burst out. "Two under," he said.

"Two under! That's scratch," I exclaimed, doing the very simple maths.

"Two under scratch," the fair haired lad said, and he was unable to keep
his face straight.

I just stared at Sam in amazement, and, unable to contain himself any
longer, he produced a face splitting grin and hurled himself at me for a
cuddle.

One of the delightful things about southern Spain is that physical contact
is the norm, not something regarded as, at best, suspicious, so there was
no barrier to prevent Sam from hugging me to express his delight, and also
let me know that he'd be hugging me a lot more intimately once lunch was
out of the way.

"Sorry, Angel," he said, unclasping himself, "Forgot my manners. Angel,
this is Josh."

I turned to the fair haired boy who extended his hand and came in for the
conventional back patting as we shook hands, a really nice custom that, now
and again, let's you have a feel of a boy you would otherwise never get
near. This one felt as good as he looked and I experienced a twinge of
regret that I'd never find out just how good he really would look and feel.

"Did you grab some seats?" Sam asked eagerly, and when I nodded that I had
he wanted to dash inside to see if there were any left around us. The boys
had decided they wanted us all to be together so I could meet Angel's
parents. It seemed they'd hatched a plan and it would be easier for them to
bring it to fruition if we could talk over lunch.

As it happened there was a vacant batch of six seats close to the two I'd
booked, and with a little persuasion the group between us moved down so we
could all be together.

Their plan was simple and revolutionary. There was a regional junior pairs
championship in two weeks time and Sam and Angel wanted to play
together. Revolutionary, because, traditionally, the pairs always came from
the same club – Angel and Sam did not.

"It is our only hope of winning, papa," Angel pleaded with his
father. "That lot on the coast will eat me alive if I have to play with a
boy from Real. Sam too, he will have no chance."

"We will talk of it later," his father said, and that, naturally, ended the
discussion. Instead I was quizzed about Sam by both parents.

I told them the truth, well, leaving out the bit about the nature of my
relationship with him and the full details of how he came to be with me,
saying only that he was the son of someone I had long ago worked with and
that he had fallen on bad times, and I had taken Sam on to give him a
better chance for his future.

He asked me about Sam's golf and was astounded to learn the boy had never
played before coming to Spain, and that he'd reached his present status,
handicap now down to one, in just over a year.

"He should be playing at a club like Real," he stared at the boy, "Then he
would have a chance to play with Angel."

"True," I shrugged my shoulders, "But that is not a financial possibility."

He nodded; subject closed. If I couldn't afford it, then that was that.

The matter was not raised again until coffee when, out of the blue, Angel's
father said to his mother,

"The boy has talent. Angel likes him, perhaps they should play together."

A heated parental discussion followed which included the gap in social
class, the enormous financial differences; that Angel went to the city's
most expensive private school, that Sam would not be comfortable in their
surroundings and that no such an arrangement had ever happened before.

Eventually, Angel's father asked my opinion.

"I think Sam is good, very good, and so is Angel. And I believe they are
right in saying that together, they might have a chance. I think they
should have that chance. Will it do them good to deny them the chance of
success?"

So it was agreed and the reaction of the two boys was clear demonstration
that the decision was the right one. Angel would be brought over to
practice with Sam the following Thursday.

"I saw you letching Angel," Sam teased me when we were back in the
apartment and comfortably naked once more.

"I approve of your playing partner, Sam. A very tasty piece of
boyflesh. Very tasty indeed."

Sam sniggered. "Sorry, but you'll just have to make do with me; and my
cock's in serious need of a good suck."

I gave him one. His prick had grown to just over five inches, and though it
had filled out a little, it was still nice and slender, delicious to suck
and wonderful to get fucked by. He gave me a good mouthful – his spunk
had creamed out now and the only watery loads he gave me were if I used it
more than our regulation four times a day.

I have to admit to wondering what Angel's cock was like and if it too
produced nice, thick creamy loads.

On the Tuesday Sam went off to the village for the evening. I'd encouraged
him to do this as soon as his Spanish was good enough for him to survive,
after all, it was right for him to mix with lads his own age from time to
time and it was an easy way for us to get weed – it's so much easier for
teenagers to acquire it.

He came back with a slightly faraway look in his eyes. I guessed he'd been
smoking, he usually did when out with the lads, but he was never stupid and
never overdid it. It wasn't the weed that was the cause of the look,
though.

"Sorry, Josh," he muttered when he sat down beside me. "You ain't gonna get
much out of it tonight. I'll suck you instead if you fancy."

I raised an eyebrow. Had my Sam been doing more than smoking weed with the
village lads?

"Had some tit tonight, and fingered a cunt," he confessed as we lit up. He
was clearly well chuffed with himself, and why not?

"Not mad at me, are you" He knew very well I wouldn't be.

"Course not. But I'd have thought that'd get you in the mood to get
sucked."

"Did," he gave one of his huge grins, "An' she went down on it."

"Nice one," I complemented him. "Good?"

"Weird," he went all thoughtful. "Didn't do it nowhere near as good as you,
but it was well sexy!" He grinned again.

""Nice one, Sam," I said again, though I did have a wonder if I might be
starting to lose my boy to biology.

"You'll be fucking her next," I commented.

"Gonna do that tomorrow night if it's ok with you," he said
seriously. "Coulda done her tonight, but I said I didn't have a rubber and,
anyway, I hadn't told you about it."

"You don't need my permission to fuck a girl, Sam. You know that."

"Yeh, but I wanted you to be ok about it first."

"Get you some rubbers tomorrow," I told him and he smiled with relief that
I was ok with it.

"Nice girl?"

"Nah, she's a right slut. But she's up for fucking!"

That is all that really matters to a fourteen year old boy, and all that
should matter!

"Well, just don't rush it, make sure you get the most you can out of it."

"No worries there," Sam giggled, "One thing I do know is how to
fuck....thanks to you!"

Sam put his unfinished joint down and went for my cock, sucking me while I
smoked and gave no indication that he was ready to give up cock in favour
of cunt just yet.

He swirled my juice around his mouth when he'd made me spurt.

"Fuckin' love that stuff," he grinned after he'd swallowed. "You should let
me have it more often." It was true that I usually unloaded somewhere else!

"So, that just leaves you with finding a boy to try, and fucking a girl up
the arse, then you'll be able to make properly informed decisions about
where you want to put your cock," I teased him as we cuddled up.

Sam relit his joint and gave me a little crooked smile.

"Workin' on the first, an' I'll probably try both her holes tomorrow."

I raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Rafa's done her up the arse, so I know she's up for it."

"And the first?" Just who was the boy Sam had in mind?

"Playin' golf with him on Thursday," Sam gave me a huge grin.

"Angel?"

"Like you said, he's well tasty." Sam sounded so offhand I knew he'd been
working on something.

"Think you might be in with a chance?" I really wanted to know all those
details. Sam fucking a girl was a horny thought, even more so if he planned
doing her up the arse, but him getting organised with a boy was seriously
horny!

"Dunno yet," Sam wasn't the slightest bit shy about telling me. "I'm gonna
suggest we have a shower in the locker room after we've played. Reckon
he'll go for it `cos he ain't gettin' picked up till nine an' he won't
wanna be all smelly and sweaty all day, an if he does I'll make sure I get
a good look."

"He'll get a look as well, Sam," and I fingered where his pubes would have
been if he hadn't shaved them off.

"Make sure he does," Sam grinned. "He goes for a good eyeful I could be in
with a chance."

"If he's super straight he might be a bit put off."

"Nah," Sam grinned again. "Just tell him the birds go for it. One tonight
did!"

"Good lad," I told him, "Let that delicious cock of yours get a bit of
variety."

"Won't do him unless you can get a bit, too." Sam was deadly serious, he
really meant to keep to his promise of a year ago that he'd only bed a boy
if I got my share. "Reckon Concha'd let you fuck her as well if you're
interested. She's a real slag."

"Give that one a miss," I grinned, appreciating his offer. "I'll stick to
boys now, and one boy in particular."

"Yeh, I know," he looked at me, hoping I wasn't upset with him, "I
shouldn't have let her blow me without asking you first, but I got well
horny, an' you know how it is."

"No worries, Sam. But I am a bit bothered that I've got to go without cock
for the next couple of days."

"Don't be daft!" He looked at me trying to work out if I was serious. "You
get me in the morning. I can't go without that. Be walking around with a
boner all day!"

"You gonna shag her in both holes you'll need a good supply," I warned
him. "Won't do going soft on a girl."

"No fuckin' fear of that!" The huge grin appeared again. "Ain't seein' her
till the evenin' so loads of time to reload. You sometimes do me six a day
an' still get it hard."

I had to laugh out loud at that, mainly because it was true.

"All the same, you make sure you got enough to satisfy her. She's been
shagged before, she'll know what to expect, and I don't want my boy falling
short of expectations." I knew Sam liked it when I called him `my boy', and
I cuddled him to make sure he knew I meant it.

"And then there's Thursday. You got Angel to practice with in the morning,
so you don't want to be worn out. And there won't be a lot of chance to get
at you while he's around, `specially if you get anywhere with him."

"Same thing," Sam grinned, "I gotta spunk before I get up, an' I bet he
will as well, so no probs there. An' then you can fuck me stupid when he's
gone." Sam paused, pretended to think, then smirked, "Should `a thought of
that. If I hadn't sucked you I could `a got fucked tonight."

I gave him a playful punch and he pretended to collapse in my arms.

"Spose I'll just have to make do with gettin' snogged to sleep instead."

Wednesday night Sam returned, happier than a dog with two tails.

"Went alright, then, Sam," I said to him when he burst in, grinning from
ear to ear.

"Magic," he smirked as he stripped. "Fucked her three times! Cunt, arse
then cunt again. She was well happy. Said it was the best she'd had!"

I could well believe it, my Sam was a quality fucker; he'd learned a lot in
my arse.

"Which way you prefer" I wanted to know.

"Arse is better, but cunt's hornier. Don't ask me why."

"And what do I get tonight?"

"What you want, mouth or hole, up to you?"

"Hole, I think." I had no qualms about fucking him. I'd been in him too
many times for it to leave him with a sore arse in the morning and spoil
his practice.

"Cool," he grinned at me. "Reckon a good fuckin'll round off me evenin'
perfect!"

I obviously didn't have to worry yet, that, having found cunt to fuck, Sam
was going to drift away from me. The boy was a complete sex addict.

Angel was duly delivered by his father at nine thirty the following day,
and told to be waiting at the clubhouse to be picked up at nine in the
evening. Sam had woken early so he could let me suck my breakfast out of
him in a leisurely, relaxing fashion, and was now raring to get going on
the course.

Both boys had kit bags, so Angel had obviously, at least in part, agreed
with Sam's suggestion that they should shower and change when they finished
so they didn't have to doss around all afternoon smelly and sweaty.

When the boys joined me later, they were both, calmly immaculate: Sam in
white football shorts, just a fraction shorter than the norm – they were
actually a size smaller than they should have been, bought deliberately
that way so he could show off just a bit of thigh when he walked around,
and a lot more when he sat down – and sky blue polo shirt, a combination
he knew drew appreciative glances from all sorts of people. Angel was in
tailored Egyptian cotton shirt and shorts, shorts that to my mind, showed
far too little of his legs. Both still had damp hair, so I guessed Sam's
plan of them having a shower had worked out. I wondered if it had worked to
the extent he had been hoping and he'd been able to both look and be looked
at.

"Alright if we go straight back to the apartment?" was Sam's greeting. I
was a bit surprised, normally he liked to hang around the bar for a bit,
probably in the hope that there might be someone around who'd try to look
up his shorts!

"Angel an' me could really do with somethin' proper to drink an' smoke," he
grinned. "An' yes," he carried on before I could say a word, "He smokes
weed an' don't want no refrescos if there's beer goin'!"

Angel looked a bit concerned; Sam had obviously briefed him that there'd be
no problems, but there was no way he'd have the faintest chance of being
able to offer similar hospitality at his parents' house.!

 "Sure," I agreed. "Angel's father's not picking him up till nine, so
there's plenty of time for him to get straight and have sweet smelling
breath if we go now."

The look on Angel's face was priceless! Was it really possible for someone
at least as old as his grandfather to have that much understanding of a
teenage mind?

I parked the boys on the balcony and had a little, internal, grin at the
way Sam organised them. He had Angel sitting facing the course, away from
the apartment window and unable to see in even if he turned, his view that
way being blocked by the opened shutters, whilst he himself was able to see
directly inside so he was able to warn me to stay away or, possibly, to
just sit out of sight and listen in. I knew exactly what was in Sam's mind:
he was going to make his first moves in his first ever attempt at seduction
and he wanted me to observe, and probably give him some advice later, on
what his next steps should be.

"You sure it's ok?" I heard Angel whisper when Sam produced some weed.

"Course it's ok, you daft monkey," Sam assured him. "You don't think I'd
have brought us here for a smoke if there was any danger he'd split on us,
do you?" I couldn't help wondering just how, and when, Sam had established
that Angel smoked.

"Anyway, he'll join us for one later," Sam added to Angel's increasing
confusion.

Time to take the boys some beer, I thought, catch Angel while he was still
while he was still trying to come to terms with the freedom he'd found
himself so unexpectedly in.

"Want me to roll you one?" Sam asked when I took out the beers. He knew
exactly what effect this casual question would have on the other boy, so I
helped him along,

"Please, but I'll save it till after lunch, if that's ok with you."

The look of incredulity on Angel's face was a wonder to behold, and both
Sam and I had to fight to keep our faces straight.

"Yeh," Sam played along beautifully, "We'll be ok with a second, won't we?"
he looked at Angel for confirmation, "You'll have straightened out by the
time he comes for you, won't you?"

Angel just nodded, his jaw hanging somewhere between his nose and his
knees.

"Just a simple lunch, I'm afraid, Angel," I said as though nothing at all
unusual had occurred, "Chorizo, tortilla, cheese. Could warm up some
garbanzos if you like?"

"Garbanzos would be very nice," he croaked.

"Fine. And would you like beer or wine with that?" I hoped he didn't bruise
his knee when his jaw crashed down again, but, to his credit, he fought
back and asked,

"Do you have any Manzanilla?"

"One in the fridge," I smiled.

"I love Manzanilla," he confessed, then, boyishly, he giggled, "But I'm
usually only allowed it watered down."

"Put some water in it if you want," I offered, which prompted Sam to
interrupt with,

"Don't you dare try to treat my guest like that!" producing a burst of
laughter from all three of us.

"Sam, you are so lucky!" I heard Angel saying as I went back to the
kitchen.

"You don't know the half of it!" Sam responded, and I knew I was meant to
hear.

The boys were just finishing their spliffs when I brought out the lunch,
complete with a fresh bottle of Manzanilla, which, like all the food, was
finished by the time the boys were.

I cleared away, washed up and returned just as Sam was completing the
construction of their second joints. We smoked, relaxing and discussing
their chances in next week's competition when Angel's pocket buzzed. He
took out his mobile and the blood drained from his face as he read the text
message.

"Oh, shit!" he muttered and looked up at us, his face a mask of
horror. "I'm dead!" he whispered.

"What's up?" Sam knew it was serious from the look on his friend's face,
but even he was not prepared for just how serious.

"He's coming for me at half four, not nine," Angel whimpered. "They've been
invited out to dinner, so he's coming to get me now."

Since it was half three now there was no way Angel would be in a suitable
state to meet his father no way he'd be straight with sweet smelling
breath.

"He'll kill me! No way will he let us play together now!" Angel was
genuinely frightened.

"Won't have left yet, will he?" I asked. Angel shook his head.

"Takes about thirty minutes to get here, but he'll be here at exactly half
four. He's never a second late. Or early."

"Ring him. Tell him I want to speak with him." There was only one hope for
the boy, for both boys, for Sam would never get another chance like the one
he was about to lose.

"What can you do?" asked Angel, hopelessly, and, to be truthful, I had no
idea if my instant plan stood any chance of success.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," the tears were starting to fill Angel's eyes as he
gave himself up to his inevitable execution at the hands of his upright,
uptight, godfilled father.

"Ring him, Angel, cry later," I said harshly, dragging the boy back to what
he had to do.

I took the phone from him when he offered it to me, his hands trembling
with emotion, and walked into the apartment, pleading with all I'd got. God
knows how I was successful, but successful I was, I managed to persuade
that paragon of Sevilla society to allow his son to stay overnight with
someone so far beneath him on the social ladder that he was truly out of
sight.

By telling him the boys were just about to go out and play another round,
that if Angel stayed over, they could play again in the morning, and that
the more they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses the better their
chances would be, I got him to agree. Not only agree, but to go as far as
to suggest that, if I could bear the intolerable burden of having his son
all that time, which he supposed I could considering my ambitions for Sam,
his family would come to lunch at the club on Saturday, and collect Angel
then. He would, naturally, show his gratitude for the imposition by
inviting Sam and I to join them for lunch!

I made my way back to the balcony, composing my face into as grave a look
as I could manage, and solemnly handed the red-eyed, tear sodden boy his
mobile.

"He'll pick you up for lunch on Saturday," I watched Angel's face as he
slowly took my words in. "Between now and then he thinks you'll be playing
at least four more practice rounds."

"How the fuck did you manage that, Josh?" Sam asked in English, to stunned
to remember to speak in Spanish.

"I really don't know." And I really didn't.

"Oh, thank you, Senor Josh, thank you," Angel gurgled, hurling himself out
of his chair and into my arms, giving me the sort of hug that even Sam
reserved for special occasions. "You have saved my life!"

He kept hugging me and I took the opportunity of hugging him back; well, he
was a very tasty fourteen year old, and tasty fourteen year olds don't
throw themselves in your arms every day, do they!

"Go have a wash, Angel," I suggested, "You wouldn't want Sam to see you
like that, would you," and he managed a grin through his still water filled
eyes before unfolding himself from me.

"Then you two can decide what you want to do for the next day and a half."

"I vote we get super stoned and brain dead pissed," Sam suggested.

"I vote that too," Angel snivelled and took himself off to the bathroom to
get himself composed.

"Don't you ever dare do that again," I glared at Sam.

"Do what?" What had he done? It hadn't been his fault!

"Miss out on the chance of kissing a boy when he's crying. It's an almost
dead cert lead up to getting inside his knickers."

"Yeh," Sam blushed a little, no doubt remembering when his own tears had
been put to good use.

"But I don't think I need to worry about gettin' in them; I reckon you just
got `em off for me." He looked me in the eye and added, "Thanks, Josh."

Angel returned, still red round the eyes, but with a smile that lived up to
his name, thanked me again, unfortunately without the hug this time, and
sat back down.

"Could I have an ordinary fag, please?" he asked. "I need to get over all
that before I carry on getting wasted."

We let Angel greedily consume his cigarette in silence before I asked Sam
if he had enough or needed to do some shopping.

"Enough for tonight, I think," Sam flashed me a look of pure wickedness,
"Two untouched twenties. Got `em specially, just in case."

He turned to Angel, his face a mask of innocence;

"Ever tried gin and orange squash? Gets you seriously pissed without makin'
you puke. We got any squash, Josh?"

"You wicked little bastard," I grinned at him.

Sam just shrugged, "You're the one who taught me," he said before
sniggering.

Angel just looked confused, totally unaware, of course, that Sam planned to
replay his own seduction on the boy. Should I, at some appropriate point,
mention that they'd have to share a bed?

"I'll have a look," I said, "Might have to go and get some." Sam sniggered
again.

I left them and wondered if I should shut the front door, just to complete
the scene, but decided that was overdoing it; Sam would know I hadn't gone
out and that I'd be listening, at the window this time, there being no
convenient door to hide outside.

I gave them a few minutes to settle then took out a full bottle of Bombay
Sapphire, the squash and two glasses.

"Not joining us?" Sam enquired.

"Not yet; I'd better get started on dinner."

"Dinner?" he squawked, "We just had lunch!"

"You'll want dinner later. If I don't get it started now I won't be in a
fit state to later."

"True," he agreed, "Get it goin' then, an' then come an' join us an' get
pissed an' stoned."

I did, then I went into the bedroom, from where I couldn't see them and
they couldn't see me; but I could hear every word they said!

"I really thought I'd had it, then," I heard Angel saying, "I don't know
how he talked my father into letting me stay, but he really saved my arse."

"Yeh, he's something else, in't he," Sam agreed.

I don't know how I can ever thank him enough."

Normal boy talk, over reaction to a dodgy situation escaped from, nothing
interesting. I hoped Sam would get down to some seduction soon, before I
had to rejoin them.

"Two ways," Sam said earnestly, in a voice so quiet I could barely
hear. "Win that championship," a pause, "And never say a word to anyone
about what you know."

"What I know?" The puzzlement was evident in Angel's voice.

"What I'm gonna tell you."

I froze. Was Sam going to blurt out things he should never tell anyone as a
way into Angel's knickers?

"What?"

I could almost sense Angel's interest, excitement even.

"Like you, Angel, really like you."

No, Sam, I thought, that's not the way to do it!

"Ain't never had a real friend, well not apart from Josh, an' that's
different."

Don't frighten him off, Sam, I pleaded silently.

"You're a real friend, ain't you." A statement, not a question. "A friend I
can trust, trust totally and utterly."

Oh, you cunning bugger, Sam. You've learned a lot about Andaluz in the
short time you've been here. Appeal to an Andalucian's sense of honour and
you've got him!

"On my honour, Sam," came the response, right on cue!

"A friend I can tell things I can't tell anyone else: things that must
always stay secret."

Good! Lay it on thick; once he's said `yes' he'll take your secret to the
grave.

"Of course!" A hint of indignation there. He'd given his word, what else
was there!

There! It was done! For an emotional fourteen year old who'd given his
word, whatever Sam said now was more sacred than the confessional. But I
still hoped he'd keep certain things quiet!

"That stuff Josh told your parents last week, total crap!"

"It wasn't true? Josh didn't help out an old friend for whom life had
become....'difficult'," Angel struggled to find an appropriate word in his
polite, upper class Spanish.

"Drop the fancy stuff, Angel." I could picture the smile on Sam's
face. "Talk like you mean, you ain't at home now."

A bark of laughter from the other boy, "You can say that again!"

"I spent the first thirteen years of my life with a mother who wished
daily, an' out loud, that she'd had an abortion."

The gasp from Angel was audible. I had a job not to let go one of my own!

"From ten onwards I was runnin' drugs round the city, not smoke like this,
real stuff, coke an' `H'."

This was new to me, Sam had never told me this! I realised then that Sam
had no idea I was listening, he, like Angel, believed I was still in the
kitchen. This was not meant for me to hear, but there was no way I was
going to creep away; I wanted to hear the rest of what Sam had to say!

"Then she'd had enough of me, dumped me on me useless stoner of a
father. Real stoner, Angel; not a guy who has a joint now and again. He lit
his bong when he woke up and it never went out till he went to sleep. And
he dealt it, too. My only use to him was to flog it round the school once
term started. When I refused he was gonna dump me in the tender care of the
local authority. The best I could fuckin' hope for was a future back runnin
drugs an' gettin' put in some juvenile prison, gettin' me arse raped every
night by the resident, tough guy daddy boys; if I didn't get a knife in me
guts first!"

I had never heard Sam so vehement, so violent about his past, but then, he
had never, ever mentioned his past.

Angel was silent.

"Still wanna play golf with me?" Sam asked and you could almost hold the
hope in his voice, it was that strong.

"More than ever, Sam," Angel struggled to hold his voice constant, "But
perhaps we should have another drink?"

"Yeh," Sam acceded, "An' another joint."

I heard the clink as their glasses were refilled, and wished I had one of
my own to empty. This was not at all what I'd been anticipating hearing.

"Then Josh turned up," Sam continued as he rolled their joints. "Yeh, he
knew the ol' man, had known him rather. They'd acted together twenty odd
years ago, bit more than just acted," Sam added, making my heart flutter
again. "Just by chance, lookin' up someone he hadn't seen for twenty
years. He had no idea I even existed, let alone I was there. He brought
booze and said they could make a night of it if there was somewhere he
could crash. My carin', lovin' father told him he could crash with me!"

Oh, no! Sam was going to spill it all! Why, Sam? Why?

"That bastard deliberately put me in the same bed as a guy he knew liked
boys."

Angel must have started to say something because Sam stopped him.

"No, listen first. I knew from the first moment that Josh fancied me, you
can tell can't you, from the way they look at you. Well, you can if you've
been around the streets like what I have. I've had plenty of looks, a few
offers an' some hands I've had to tell to fuck off, but Josh weren't like
that. Oh, he gave me a cuddle when he thought I was too pissed to bother
about it, but nothin' more. Never took advantage of me, never even tried
to."

Sam paused for a deep slurp of his drink, Angel just sat in silence.

"Then I thought, if Josh had kept my cunt of a father as his boyfriend for
four years, got him a place in drama school so he could use the one fuckin'
skill he had, an' the stupid, stoner cunt had never gone, he might, just
might be my way out of what was in front of me."

Angel wanted to interrupt, probably stop Sam from saying more, but my boy
was having none of that.

"Fuckin' shut up and listen," he almost snarled. "I'm pourin' out my guts
to you, so fuckin' listen. I thought, ol' Josh, he ain't probably been near
a boy for fuck knows how many years, so if I let him have what he was
gaspin' for inside, if I let him have me cock, no, not just me cock, me
whole fuckin' body, an' let him have it not just once, but offered it to
him as much as he wanted if he took me with him, I might, just might, have
a chance. Anythin' was better than what I knew was waitin' for me."

I have no idea what Angel was thinking, but I was on the edge of tears at
Sam pouring out his secrets.

"Josh never seduced me; I seduced him!"

So those vague wonderings I'd had at the time had been right, it had always
been Sam in control, not me. My Sam really was a very special boy!

"So we slept together, well slept afterwards, anyway," Sam had the grace to
giggle after that, "An' it was good, fuckin' good. In the mornin' I told
him what I was after, nearly fucked it up, but Josh don't just like boys
for bed, he know `em, understands `em, likes `em because they are boys, an'
I got away with it. He could have me body as much as he wanted if he took
me away with him. An' he did."

Sam was silent for a moment, and then, all passion spent, he said, very
quietly,

"What he didn't know, what I never told him, was that he didn't just get me
body, he got everything of me. He got me heart and soul as well."

"You did that so he'd bring you to Spain?" Angel whispered.

"Never knew nothin' about Spain then, not till he told me when he agreed to
let me go with him, I'd have to learn Spanish and learn to play golf."

That's not quite true, Sam, I thought, but near enough.

"Gotta win that competition, Angel, gotta win it." I could hear the
separation oozing out from Sam.  "I could even get to be a professional an'
I'd fuckin' love that! He's done that for me, Angel, an' he ain't done it
just `cos he likes me cock!"

"Sam, you are magnificent," Angel whispered, "Magnificent. I could never
have had balls big enough to do that."

"Maybe," Sam said softly, "But you ain't never been drownin' in deep, deep
shit like I was." And then, like flicking a switch, one of those amazing
boy mood changes:

"Anyway," Sam said quite clearly and very suggestively, "Your balls is nice
as they is."

"I noticed you looking at them," Angel sniggered, his mood switching as
abruptly as Sam's.

"You was lookin' too," Sam retorted and they both giggled.

"I noticed something was missing," Angel said tactfully.

"Me pubes? Yeh, shave `em off. I think it's well sexy."

"Never seen a boy shave his pubes before," Angel was clearly
intrigued. Trying so hard not to give offence, he asked, "Is it because you
are homosexual?"

"Bird I shagged last night didn't think I was queer," Sam sniggered,
delighted with his revelation.

"You fucked a girl?" The admiration was dripping from Angel's voice.

"Twice in the cunt, once up the arse," Sam boasted.

"Magnificent!" Angel breathed in awe. "But what about Josh? Didn't he
mind?"

"Got the rubbers for me, you daft bugger."

"Incredible!" A long, slow breath. "You are so lucky."

"Tell me about it," Sam chortled, and then he was back on the track he'd
been following from the start; "You gonna feel me cock, or what? I got this
massive boner from lookin' at you all the time!"

I heard a rustle as Angel moved, then Sam's voice again,

"Not like that! Get yer hand up me shorts an' feel it properly. You know I
ain't got no knickers on."

Two long intakes of breath, one from each boy, indicated that Angel's hand
had made contact with its target.

"Nice," Sam breathed out, and then he said, with a touch of amused
curiosity, "You've felt cock before, ain't you."

"Two others," Angel admitted, "Boys at school."

"Wicked," Sam chortled. "Weren't no boys at my school felt each other's
cocks. Not that I knew of, anyway."

"Very expensive school," Angel joined in the fun, "All boys, and lots of
very frustrated boys."

"Only one way to get rid of frustration," Sam opined.

"Quite true," Angel agreed, causing then both to snigger again.

"How often you wank?" Sam wanted to know.

"Three, sometimes four. You?"

"Never wank," Sam said seriously.

"You never wank?" Angel sounded horrified.

"What you think Josh is for?" and both collapsed in helpless laughter.

"So how often does Josh wank it for you?"

We were into a real boys' conversation now.

"He don't wank it, he sucks it for me."

"Sucks it?"

"You never been sucked? I'll do it for you later if you want. It's
amazing."

"I definitely want to be sucked," Angel enthused. "How often does he do
that for you?"

"Four most days, but a few more if we get carried away."

"Wonderful!" Angel was jealous!

"Fuckin' hell, Angel, it's behind fuckin' barricades! You got fuckin'
armour on or what?"

Sam was obviously trying to get inside Angel's knickers at last.

"I didn't know this was going to be happening, did I?" Angel defended
himself reasonably. "Here, let me."

More shifting about, then Sam's voice again,

"That is one lush cock. Thought it looked good soft, but hard it's real
lush."

A real gasp came over the unmistakable sounds of a mouth slurping cock as
Sam decided that he couldn't, after all, wait till later.

"Wonderful!" I heard Angel gasp when Sam finished his taster. "I want
more!"

"Wait till bed time," Sam teased him. "You're gonna be sleepin' with me,
after all."

"I thought I'd be sleeping on the couch."

"Nah, Josh can have that."

Thanks, Sam! I thought.

 Unless you fancy a threesome," he suggested tentatively.

"I'd need a lot more booze and weed," Angel sniggered.

"Don't you worry about that!" Sam had plans for Angel, and he had plenty of
weed and I had plenty of booze.

"He sucks amazing," Sam tempted.

"Pour me another drink," was the ambiguous reply.

Time, I thought to make an appearance.