Date: Fri, 3 Mar 2017 00:46:39 +0000
From: Andy Brown <andybrown2000@outlook.com>
Subject: Tutoring Dylan - chapter 16

Tutoring Dylan - chapter 16


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***

From the end of chapter 15:

I went back outside to check if the coals were ready.  Discovering that
they weren't, and knowing that Dylan would be ravenous after his
gymnastics, I put some bread in the toaster.  Moments later Dylan came
down, clad in a white t-shirt with rainbow striped sleeves, and a pair of
blue and white patterned board shorts.

"Is dinner ready yet?" he pined.

"No.  Still waiting for the coals to heat up.  But I've put some toast on."

"Good.  Because..."

"...I'm starving!" I mimicked, finishing his sentence for him.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny," he grinned.  I pulled him into a hug and kissed
his forehead.


***


I was already downstairs eating breakfast when Dylan woke on Friday
morning.  As he came into the kitchen, I saw that he hadn't bothered
getting dressed yet.  The metal cage was the only item he was wearing, and
we both knew that wasn't by choice.

I continued to munch on my shredded wheat as Dylan walked over.  Bending
down, he brought his lips to my own and we shared a lingering, if slightly
wet and straw-like, kiss.

Our embrace over, Dylan helped himself to a bowl of sugar-laden cereal and
sat down opposite me.

"Andy, are you working today?" he asked, between spoonfuls of his
breakfast.

"Aha," I replied.  "Got to be in by ten, so I'll need to set off soon."

"Okay," he said, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Any ideas what you're going to do while I'm out?"

"Dunno.  I'm dying for a wank."  He grabbed his steel bound crotch.  "But I
guess that's still out of the question."

I chuckled.  Reaching out, I ran my hand up and down his forearm.

"Well, the day's all yours to do with as you like," I told him.  "There's
plenty to do round here.  You can check out the leisure centre if you want.
There's a pool, a gym, and a couple of sports halls.  I think there might
be a climbing wall as well."

"Could do, I suppose.  Probably not the pool though.  I don't think I could
get away with wearing my speedos over this without getting some funny
looks."

I smiled.  "I guess not."

"I might do some more Pokemon hunting.  See if I can find any new ones
round here."

"Sounds good," I said, standing up and loading my bowl and mug into the
dishwasher.  Pulling my wallet out of my pocket, I fished out a £20 note
and handed it to Dylan.  "This should sort you out for the day."

"Thanks Andy."

"Now I best get going, or I'll be late."  I bent down and we shared another
kiss.  "Have fun today.  See you tonight."

"Okay.  See ya."

Strolling out of the kitchen, I pulled on a pair of brogues and grabbed my
bag from the hallway.  Closing the front door behind me, I took my usual
route to the bus stop.


***


The bus was fairly quiet when I got on it and so I headed upstairs.  As I
looked around, deciding where to sit, I saw a couple of cute looking teens
sat half way down the bus.  I decided to sit behind them.

I guessed both of the boys were a little older than Dylan, 14 or 15
perhaps.  The older looking boy was tall and thin, with thick, wavy brown
hair.  His companion had darker hair - almost black - which was
significantly shorter and spiked up at the front.

The two lads were gabbling on about yesterday's action in Rio, especially
about the gold and silver medals bagged by local boys Alistair and Jonny
Brownlee, and also the sensational run by Usain Bolt in the 200 metres.
Just as they were extolling the Jamaican's abilities, the older boy's phone
buzzed.  Fishing it out of his pocket, he unlocked it and read the message.
Looking at his reflection in the window, I could see him grinning.

"What is it?" his mate asked, also noticing the boy's reaction.

"It's nowt," the older boy replied, as he typed out a message in reply.

"Aw go on Adam.  Let me see."  The younger boy reached over, trying to grab
his friend's phone.  His friend pulled it out of his reach.  After a few
more moments of struggling, the shorter lad gave up.

"So what are we gonna do in town?" Adam asked.

Silence.

"Well?"

Silence.

"For fuck's Riley!  If it's that big a deal, then here, take a look."  Adam
loaded something up on his phone and passed it over.

"Fucking hell!  Is that for real?" Riley exclaimed.

"Aha."

"She's got a great pair of tits.  You are so fucking lucky."

"I know," Adam replied.  He reached over and took the phone back.  As he
pulled it towards him I got a brief glance of a blonde girl, a similar age
to Adam.  She appeared to be naked.  It got me thinking.

"So have you sent her one?" Riley asked.

"None of your fucking business."

"You have, haven't you?"

"I said, it's none of your business!"  His tone suggested his friend was
right.

"Oh my god.  Were you like, hard?"

"Fuck off!" Adam snapped, before landing a punch on his mate's arm.

"Ow!"  He rubbed his arm.  "You fucking well were though, weren't you?"

Adam punched his friend again, though a fair bit harder this time,
resulting in a louder yell from Riley.

The two lapsed into silence for a few minutes.  I looked out of the window.
We weren't far off the city centre now.

"Can I see it?" Riley asked.

"What?"

"The pic you sent Ambur."

"Piss off!  You're not seeing that you fag!"

"Fuck you!" Riley shot back.  "I'm no fag.  I just thought we could zoom in
and see if you've actually got a dick or not."

Adam drew his arm back.  "I'm literally gonna kill you."

"Don't.  Sorry.  Sorry.  Please don't."

The older boy lowered his arm.  Then, with a swift move, he landed a quick
jab to his friend's gut.  Riley yelped once more.

Whilst his mate rubbed his side, Adam looked out of the window and pressed
the bell.  "Time to go," he told Riley as he stood up and began to make his
way towards the stairs.  After giving his side a final rub, Riley got to
his feet and followed the older boy downstairs.


***


Arriving at work, I headed through reception and towards the lift.
Unusually, I was the only one to get in.

Eventually the lift came to a halt and I stepped out onto my floor.  As
usual I looked in my pigeon hole, only to find it empty.  I checked which
station I was assigned to today: 24.  I strolled over to my terminal,
greeting several colleagues on my way, and logged on.


***


Just after noon I took my allocated 10 minute coffee break.  I headed
towards the toilets and locked myself into a cubicle.  Drawing inspiration
from the boys on the bus earlier, I began to undress.  The thrill of what I
was doing caused my penis to come to life.  Soon enough I was naked, my
stiff cock exposed to the coolness of the air-conditioned bathroom.

Grabbing my phone, I snapped a photo of myself.  After checking it looked
okay, I sent it to Dylan along with the words: 'Thinking about you ;-)'

I pulled my clothes back on, used the facilities, and headed back towards
my work station.  On the way, I stopped at the vending machine to grab a
cup of tea.


***


Surprisingly, it was over an hour before I received a reply from Dylan.  It
was a pic of him naked, but still caged.  He looked gorgeous, as usual.
From the background, he looked like he was in my bathroom.  Along with the
photo there was a message: 'Wish I could do that :-( '

I smiled to myself.  I knew that it seemed cruel to send him such messages
when he couldn't get hard.  But I had my reasons.  There was something from
my list that I wanted us to do next.  But it was the one thing I was least
sure Dylan would agree to.  It was nothing painful or scary, but I figured
he'd be reluctant.  I reasoned that if I got him worked up enough over the
next few days, he would agree to do anything for his release.

'Took you a while to reply.  What you been up to?' I sent back.

'Sorry.  Been to the gym.  Did a bit of weightlifting.'


***


I ate quickly, ensuring that I'd have enough of my lunch break left to make
a return trip to the bathroom.  Upon entering the toilets, I again locked
myself in a cubicle and stripped off.  My erection hadn't gone down much
since receiving Dylan's message earlier.

Wrapping my hand around my cock, I took another pic on my phone.  I sent it
to Dylan along with the message: 'Bet you wish you could do this!'  I began
to wank.

A few seconds later I received a reply from Dylan: 'Hell yeah.  PS: you're
a bastard ;-)'

I continued to jerk off.  In my mind, I thought about Adam from the bus
earlier.  He was cute.  I wondered what the selfie he'd sent to his
girlfriend looked like.  What was his body like?  How big was he?  Was he
particularly hairy?

As my imagination ran riot, my orgasm began to build.  I turned my phone on
to video mode and began to record myself.  Very soon, my breathing became
ragged, my balls churned, and several ropes of cum shot out of my dick.  I
pressed 'stop'.

After mopping up my jizz, I checked the video.  It was weird, watching
myself masturbating.  But it was also really hot.  It got me hard again.  I
was certain it would get Dylan worked up.  I typed out a one word message:
'Enjoy!' and sent the clip to him.


***


I arrived home shortly before seven.  As I walked into the kitchen I was
surprised to see Dylan stirring something on the stove.

"Mmmm," I said, walking over to him.  "Something smells good.  What is it?"

"Chicken chasseur," he replied.  "I found it in one of your recipe books.
I hope it'll be okay."

"Well if it tastes as good as it smells, then we'll be in for a real
treat."  I gave him a kiss on the cheek.  "How long's it got left to go?"

Dylan checked the timer on the oven.  "12 minutes."

"Great.  I'll just pop upstairs and get out of these clothes."


***


After having a piss and getting out of my work clothes, I went back down to
the kitchen.  Dylan's face was a picture when he saw me.

"I thought you were getting changed," he said, sounding flustered.

"I did.  I just decided not to put anything else on instead."

"So I see," he replied as he groped himself.

"What?  I thought you liked me being naked."

"I do... usually."

I grinned, knowing the effect my nakedness was having - or in his current
condition, not having - on him.  "Need a hand plating up?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Once dinner was served, we chatted with each other about what we'd got up
to during the day.  I shared with Dylan that sales had been slow again
today, a few tit-bits of office gossip (including the rumour that my
supervisor Dan was having an affair with Mandy from HR), and the
interesting conversation on the bus between Adam and Riley.

"Oh, so that's where you got the idea from then."

I nodded.  "Guilty as charged."

Dylan then told me about his morning at the gym (including perving on a
really hot black guy who'd been working out) and then his afternoon
traipsing through the neighbourhood in search of more Pokemon (he'd found
quite a few).


***


Dinner over, and pots in the dishwasher, we settled down on the sofa.

"Fancy playing some games?" I asked.

"Yeah, why not," came Dylan's less than overly enthusiastic reply.

Still naked, I made my way to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled out
a few boxes.

"Let's start with this one," I suggested, as I unpacked Twister.

Dylan rolled his eyes.  "Are you seriously going to play like that?"

"Aha.  You can join me if you want."

Dylan paused for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.  "May as well,"
he said.

As Dylan started to shed his clothes, my previously soft cock began to
respond to the sight of my teenage stud.  Seconds later, he was as naked as
myself - well, almost - and my rod was standing proudly to attention.
After rolling up the rug, flattening out the Twister mat, and setting up
the board, we were ready to commence.

We each got into position at opposite ends of the mat.  Placing one foot on
a yellow circle and our remaining foot on a blue circle.  Now we were all
set.

"How about this for an idea," I suggested.  "We take it in turns and spin
for each other.  Wherever the spinner lands, that's how the other person
has to move.  First person to fall over loses."

"Fine by me," Dylan replied.  "Though you do know, I'm gonna whoop your
ass!"

"We'll see," I chuckled.  Reaching over, I twirled the spinner.  "Left hand
green," I called out.  Dylan did as instructed, bending down and touching
the second green spot along.  Reaching out with his right hand, he then
flicked the spinner.

"Right foot red," he instructed.  Not the easiest move from my current
position.  My right foot was currently on yellow.  The red spot was over on
the far left of the mat.  I could move my right leg across my left, but it
wouldn't be particularly comfortable.  Instead I opted to pivot on my left
foot, and as I turned around, bring my right foot across to the red spot.

"Nice view!" Dylan hollered, referring to the sight of my arse which was
now facing him.  I wiggled it, causing my buttocks to jiggle.

Stretching backwards, I spun the board again.  "Right hand red," I told
him.  Dylan shifted his weight as he put his hand down on the second red
spot.  As he did so, his legs spread out, giving me the perfect view of his
caged privates.  Once steady, he reached over to the board and gave the
spinner a twirl.

"Left hand green."  Obeying Dylan's instructions, I crouched down, leant
back, and planted my hand on a green spot.  Then, stretching as much as I
could with my right arm, I gave the spinner a tap.

"Right hand green," I read.  Dylan shifted his weight once more as he
brought his right arm across his body and placed his right hand just in
front of his left.  After a couple of seconds, he reached back across to
manipulate the spinner again.

"Right foot blue," he told me as he placed his right hand back in position.
Lifting my right foot off the red spot it was currently on, I brought it
behind by other foot.  I let out a low moan as my ankle rubbed against my
ball sac.  Enjoying the sensation, I began to slowly move my right leg up
and down.

"Enjoying yourself?" Dylan asked, hearing the sounds I was making.

"Yes thanks," I replied, not in the least bit embarrassed.

"Well, when you've finished," he said.  "Do you think we could carry on
with the game."

I pleasured myself a couple more times before stopping and reaching over to
flick the spinner.  "Left foot red," I said.  "This one could be tricky."
With great suppleness, Dylan pressed down with his hands, lifted his foot
off the yellow spot and stretched out so it landed on the second red spot.

"Easy!" Dylan gloated, before reaching out with his right hand to the
board.  "Oh this'll be fun.  Right hand green."

This was going to be a difficult move and I'd need to balance carefully.  I
brought my right arm across my body and set my right hand down just in
front of my left.  This move caused my body to twist and for most of my
weight to be transferred to my hands and arms.  I was glad it was only the
two of us playing; it wouldn't be too long until I could move again.

It took another massive stretch to reach the board.  "Left hand yellow," I
grunted.  Looking behind me, I could see Dylan weighing up his options.  No
move would be easy for him.  In the end he opted to bring his left hand
forwards in a diagonal movement.  Now both his arms and his legs were
crossed over each other.  It also brought his left hand very close to my
rear.

"Right hand blue," Dylan instructed.  I didn't have many options as my feet
were covering the first two blue circles.  I placed my right hand on the
third, forcing me to rotate 90 degrees and bringing mine and Dylan's faces
close together.

Leaning forward slightly, I kissed his lips.  "Hi," I said, before reaching
out and launching the spinner.  "Right hand red."

Reaching across, Dylan planted his right hand level with his left.  He was
once again spread out and our faces were even closer together.  This time
he initiated the kiss, our tongues grappling with each other as our lips
opened.  Without breaking our caress, he gave the spinner another twirl.
"Left hand red."

Shifting my weight, and wobbling slightly as I did so, I swung my left arm
across my body and landed my hand level with my right foot.  The position
was uncomfortable as it placed a lot of pressure on my right foot.  But I
was no spread out less than before and was in easy reach of the board,
which I quickly spun.

"Right foot red," I instructed.  This left Dylan with two options.  He
could either move his foot one spot sideways, but this would put a lot of
weight on his left foot.  Instead, he chose to plant his right foot
directly in front of his left, putting him into a similar position as a
sprinter in their blocks.

"Right hand blue," Dylan read from the board.  I considered my options.
The easiest way to do this would have been to slide my hand sideways, but
Dylan already had his hand on that spot.  Instead I had to move it
backwards diagonally, bringing mine and Dylan's arms into contact.  The
feel of his silky skin against my own caused my body to ripple with
pleasure.

But this new position caused a problem.  There was no way I could reach the
board for the next spin without either falling over or knocking into Dylan.

"Hey Dylan," I said.  "I'm not gonna be able to reach the board.  What do
you say we abandon the spinner and just tell each other how we want the
next move to be?"

"Yeah, okay," he replied.  A cheeky grin spread across his face.  "And I
reckon that'll make it much more fun!"

"Okay then," I said, rising to his challenge.  "I want you to put right
hand on blue."  He moved his hand across, and with it, his head nestled
against my arse.  Suddenly, I felt a tickling sensation.  As I craned my
neck around to see what he was doing, I saw Dylan's tongue caressing my
left buttock.  I began to squirm and shake slightly.  "Hey, stop that," I
said.  "Otherwise you're gonna make me fall over."

"I thought that was the point!" he replied.  I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Okay, okay," Dylan responded.  "Left foot yellow."

This was a fairly easy move, as I brought my left leg backwards diagonally
and placed it behind my right.  It meant I was slightly less spread out and
was able to raise myself up slightly.  The plus side was that Dylan could
no longer lick my buttock.  The bad news was that his tongue now had access
to my sensitive inner thigh; a fact that he was quick to cotton on to as he
began to plant a series of licks and kisses on the area, making my cock
twitch with excitement.

"Left foot blue," I quickly instructed.  Dylan moved his foot forwards and
sideways, allowing him to push himself up slightly, and bringing his mouth
in line with my crotch.  Pushing his head between my legs, he stuck out his
tongue and began to lick up and down my shaft.  A bead of precum trickled
down, which he dutifully took into his mouth and swallowed.

"Oh... oh... you better stop or I'll..."

With a final lick, Dylan pulled his tongue away, leaving me on the verge of
orgasm.  He paused for a moment, obviously assessing the situation.

"Left foot green," he told me.  Deciding on the easy option, I took a step
backwards.  As my legs grew wider apart, Dylan leaned forward again, this
time taking the tip of my cock into his mouth.  He began to suck.  Within
moments I could feel my love juice churning in my balls and barrelling its
way up my shaft.

 "Oh... oh... urgh!" I cried out as I began to fire my creamy spunk into
Dylan's warm cavity and down his receptive throat.  As he kept sucking, my
left knee buckled underneath me.  As I collapsed to the floor, my penis
slipped out between Dylan's lips.  A rope of my jizz fired over his face
(which he duly licked off), with the final couple of spurts landing on the
mat.  Breathing heavily, I laid still for a few moments.

"Told you I'd win!" he announced proudly, as he sat next to me.  Reaching
down, he ran his finger across the mat, collecting the cum that had landed
there.  Tantalisingly, he brought it up to his open mouth, using his tongue
to lick it off.  It suddenly struck me how much he'd grown sexually during
our few short months together.  My mind raced back to our camping trip when
he'd screwed his face up at the thought of tasting cum.

My breath now regained, I pulled Dylan down on top of me.  I shivered as
his cold, metal cage came in contact with my lower belly.  As my soft cock
brushed against Dylan's thigh, it returned to its hardened state.  Our lips
interlocked, and as our tongues wrestled, I could taste the remnants of my
jizz.

We lay there for several minutes, our bodies entwined.

"That was fun," I said once the kiss was over.

"Yeah, it was," he agreed.  "Though it'd have been even better if I'd have
been able to cum too!"

"Patience, my love," I said, as I leant over and gave him a light peck on
the lips.  "All in good time."

"Hmmmmm," he sighed.  "So what're we gonna do now?"

"How about another game?" I suggested.

"Okay.  What else you got?"

"Cluedo, Frustration, Jenga, Monopoly, Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit..."

"How about Monopoly?"

"Sure."  Leaving Dylan to pack away Twister, I returned to the cupboard and
got out the box for Monopoly.  Pulling a large coffee table towards the
sofa, I laid the board out on top of it and then we spent a few minutes
setting the board up.

"So, do you think you'll win this one too?" I asked him.

"Maybe," Dylan replied with a glint in his eyes.

"One additional rule," I told him.  "You can't touch the other player."

"Awww," he whined.  "That's no fair!"

I grinned, knowing that I'd taken away his best tactic for beating me.
"I'll let you start," I said.  "What d'you want to be?"

"Ummmm..." he pondered for a while.  "I think... I'll be the car."

I put the piece on the 'Go' square for him and handed him the dice.  "I'll
be the dog," I said as I placed the token on the start line.


***


A couple of hours later, and I was clearly winning.  I'd managed to use my
usual strategy of securing all four stations, all three pinks, all three
reds, both utilities, both Park Lane and Mayfair, and one of each of the
other colours.  Most of my properties now had several houses on, whilst
Dylan - not managing to secure a full set of any properties - had no houses
to his name.  As the rounds progressed, I was slowly taking more and more
money off him as he landed on my spaces.

Dylan yawned.  "I'm getting a bit tired Andy," he said.

"Yeah, me too," I agreed.  "Perhaps we should call it quits."  Dylan
nodded.  "Do you want to carry this on tomorrow?"

"Nah.  There's no point.  There's no way I'm gonna win.  We'll call it your
game."

"Okay," I said, and leant over to give him a kiss.

Soon, the game was packed away and we were on our way up to bed.


***


I woke up peacefully on Saturday morning, cuddled up with Dylan in our bed.
The morning sunlight shone brightly through the curtains, giving the room
an ethereal glow.  I soaked in the atmosphere.  The feel of Dylan's warm,
soft skin.  The sweet yet nutty smell of teenage boy ripe in the air.  The
sound of his gentle breath as he snoozed.  I was beyond content, and could
happily have laid like this for hours.  But my bladder had other ideas.

Ever so gently, I extricated myself from our entanglement.  As I hauled
myself from under the bed sheets, I looked down at my sleeping boy.  There
was something almost angelic about him, bathed in the morning glow.

After emptying my bladder and having a shave, I stepped back into the
bedroom.  Dylan was beginning to stir.

"Morning," he yawned, stretching out his arms and showing off the tufts of
hair in his pits.

"Good morning," I replied.  Crouching over him I worked a series of kisses
down his body, starting with his lips and finishing just above his crotch.
He squirmed and sighed in equal measure.

"Andy," Dylan said once I'd stopped my ministrations.  "What are we gonna
do about diving this morning?  Are you gonna take the cage off?"

"No," I replied, kissing his lips once more.  "That stays where it is."

"But everyone will see the bulge in my speedos.  How am I gonna explain
that?"

"You won't."  Dylan looked bemused.  "It'll be easier if you don't go.
I'll give them a ring.  Say you've got a stomach bug.  I'm sure it won't
hurt to miss one practice."

The expression on his face showed he was disappointed.  My shift pattern
meant I had to be in work by eleven, so I wouldn't have been able to stay
at the practice.  With the key hopefully on its way back from my uncle in
Scotland, removing the cage wasn't an option.  And even if I had been able
to remove the device, I knew that - despite how much as I loved him - there
was no way I could have trusted Dylan to put the cage back on himself
afterwards.


***


After calling the diving coach, I made us both scrambled eggs for
breakfast.  Whilst waiting for them to cook, I emptied the dishwasher.
Dylan had gone for a shower.  Once the eggs were cooked, I plated up.

"Dylan!  Breakfast's ready!" I called up the stairs.

"Okay!  I'll be down in a minute!" came the response.

Not wanting mine to go cold, I began to eat.  A couple of minutes later
Dylan padded his way into the kitchen.  His hair was damp and he was
dressed only in a towel.

"You know," I said as he sat down and began to scoop some egg up with his
fork.  "If I could, I'd pass a law banning you from ever wearing clothes
again."

Dylan blushed a little.  "Thanks.  Though I don't know how that'd go down
at school."

"Oh, I'm sure the girls would love it.  And I reckon quite a few boys would
too."  I gave him a cheeky wink.

He blushed even more.  "But then some hot, young teacher might try to fuck
me," he replied cheekily.  "I bet you wouldn't like that."

"Oh, I don't know," I said.  "I might do.  If they let me watch!"

"You perv," he laughed, rubbing his foot up and down my leg.

As we finished off our breakfasts, we continued to trade ideas about what
Dylan could get up to if he were naked in school.

"Look what you've done," I told him, as I stood up.  There was a clear
bulge in my boxers.  "I think we best go take care of this."  Dylan smiled.

Leaving the breakfast pots on the table, we raced upstairs.

I caught Dylan up on the threshold of our bedroom.  Grabbing him round the
waist, I flung him onto the bed.

I attacked his body mercilessly, tickling his sides.  Underneath me, Dylan
squirmed uncontrollably.  The room filled with his giggling.

"Stop!  Stop!" he gasped.

Unrelenting in my onslaught, I worked my fingers higher, delving into his
sensitive armpits.  His wriggling took on a new energy, his arms and legs
flailing around me.

"Stop!  Please!" he begged.

Changing tack, I stopped the tickling, only to clamp my lips around his
left nipple.

"Ohhhh!  Ohhhh!" he cried.

Pulling off slightly, I stuck out my tongue and lashed his hard nub with
it.

"Aaahhh!  Huuuuhh!"

Withdrawing my tongue, I gently nibbled his teat.  Dylan winced with shock,
but was soon mewing with pleasure.

I switched to his other nipple, repeating my movements and sending ripples
of pleasure coursing through Dylan's teenage body.

"Yes Andy!  Oh yes!"

Switching things up again, I pulled myself off his chest.  Fingers at the
ready, I once again caused him to writhe around the bed as I assailed his
sides and armpits.  The boy was soon in a fit of hysterics.

For a good fifteen minutes I continued to alternate between tickling him
and devouring his nipples, taking him back and forth between laughter and
eroticism.  But all of this fun caused us to become tired out, our
breathing becoming laboured, and our bodies drenched in sweat.  The contact
with Dylan's body had made me hard as an iron bar.

Pulling off my boxers, I leaned over Dylan.  Without a word being said, he
took my shaft into his mouth and began to suck.  Warm waves of pleasure
throbbed through my body.  Reaching out, Dylan stroked his fingers up and
down my torso.  I shivered as he brushed them across my nipples.

I shuddered and gasped as my orgasm hit, my whole body tensing up.  Pulling
out just in time, my cum splattered across Dylan's face.

I looked down at Dylan's face, several streams of gooey, white spunk
covering it.  Some had even hit his hair.  Dylan moved his hand towards his
eye where a thick glob had landed.

"Don't," I said, reaching out and grabbing hold of his wrist.  "I want you
to leave it there."

"Oh," he smiled.  "Are you gonna lick it off?"

"Later maybe," I replied.  "Keep it there till I get home tonight."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah.  If you do, I'll give you a reward."

"But what am I meant to do all day?  I can't go out looking like this!"

I chuckled.  "No.  But I'm sure you'll find plenty to keep you occupied.
The breakfast pots need putting in the dishwasher for starters."  Dylan
glared at me.  "Or maybe you could chat to your friends online," I
continued.  "Jamie or Luke perhaps.  Maybe even get to know Oliver a bit
better."  I gave him a cheeky wink.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Great.  Now I better go grab a shower before I head off to work.  I should
be home around 7.  Don't worry about cooking tonight, I'll sort something
out for us when I get in."


***


Arriving at work, I went through my usual routine.  Catch the lift.  Check
my pigeonhole, which today contained a letter from my pension provider.
Find out what terminal I would be on: 13 today.  I grabbed a cup of coffee
from the machine and then headed over to my workstation.  After logging on
to the system, I began to make my first call of the day, to a Mr Reginald
Blenkinsop, who from our information appeared to be an 73 year old single
male from Derbyshire.  An easy sell.

Just as I was wrapping up the transfer, I felt a presence hovering behind
me.  Bringing the phone call to an end, I turned around.

Stood behind me were two figures.  The first was the intimidating
individual that was my boss: Wendy St Clair.  Tall and slim, her height
accentuated by her ever-present high heels.  As usual she was channelling
her inner Margaret Thatcher with a checked two-piece jacket and skirt set,
the jacket sporting her classic 80s throwback shoulder pads.  Her
(obviously dyed) blonde hair was, as always, fixed into an immaculately set
bun.

Next to her stood a sight that took my breath away.  He was just... wow!
Short, slim, blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, ruddy cheeks.  My heart
skipped a beat.  I had no idea who this lad was, but I sure as hell hoped
I'd get to find out.

"Good morning Andy," Wendy said.

"Morning Wendy," I replied politely.

"Allow me to introduce you to Lars Nielsen."  Interesting name, I thought
to myself as I continued to stare into his boyish face.  Suddenly, I
realised he had offered me his hand.  I wondered how long he'd been waiting
like that.  Feeling flustered, I extended my own, sparks shooting down my
arm as our palms pressed together.

"Nice to meet you Lars," I spluttered.

"Nice to meet you too Andy," he said, his voice somewhat deeper than I
expected.

"Lars is hoping to study business and communication at the local college,"
Wendy went on.  "He's just finished his GCSEs.  I've agreed for him to do
some work experience with us for the rest of the summer.  He's just
returned from a family holiday, but was eager to get started with us today.
I've already given him a tour of the place.  I thought it would be good for
him to see life on the shop floor first, so to speak, so I'm assigning him
to your care for the day.  You are, after all, one of our less hopeless
sellers."  Oh, the praise, I thought to myself.

"Um... yeah... no problem," I said.

"He's been here since nine so I suggest you both go for lunch at half
twelve.  And I see you're on until..." she checked her tablet, "half six
tonight, but Lars needs to go at five."

"That's fine.  Is there anything in particular you want me to do with him?"
I asked, though my mind had its own ideas about what I'd like to do with
him.

"Just plonk him on a chair next to you, give him a headset, and let him
listen to your calls," she replied.  "He only needs to get an idea of what
you get up to.  On Monday, we'll send him through to accounts or HR; make
sure he gets a 360 view of the set-up we have here."

"Okay, that's..." I began, only to find she'd already gone.
"So... Lars... why don't you grab a chair from one of the empty terminals
and I'll set you up with a headset."

"Okay," he replied.

Leaving the lad to find a seat, I went over to the cupboard and pulled out
a spare headset.  Returning to my station, I could see that Lars was
already sat waiting.  I inserted the headset connector into the spare sound
jack on the computer, which we sometimes needed to use for training or
supervision purposes.  To do so, I had to lean across Lars slightly and
could feel the heat emanating from his body.  Breathing in deeply, my
nostrils filled with the heady aroma of his sweet-smelling deodorant.

"So," I said, pointing to the screen.  "You'll see here there's a list of
people's names.  This tells us who we are to call today.  We simply click
on the next one on the list, and hit call.  The system then connects us and
we phone that person up."

"Okay."

I clicked on the next person on the list: Mrs Valerie Garland.  Then I
pressed 'call'.  As I did so, a box came up giving details of her age,
where she lives, and who her current energy provider is.

"Hello, is that Mrs Garland?" I asked.


***


Nine calls later, I'd bagged an impressive seven sales.  During the morning
Lars had surreptitiously moved his chair gradually closer to my own, and
now our legs were touching.  Upon ending the ninth call, I realised it was
nearly half twelve.  "Well, we better stop there," I said.

"Okay," he replied.

"I'm just gonna pop to the bathroom," I said.  "Wait here and then when I
get back I'll show you where we can eat lunch."

"No," he replied.  "I'll come with you.  I need to go as well."

Excellent, I thought to myself, this could turn out rather well.  I began
to make my way towards the toilets, Lars following closely behind.

"So how've you enjoyed this morning?" I asked him as we walked.

"It's been pretty good," he replied.  "The tour was a bit dull, but it's
been fun watching you at work."

I looked back at him as he said this, to see a doey eyed looked upon his
face.  I was getting a definite vibe off this kid.  It left me feeling
conflicted.  If anything happened between us, would that mean I was
cheating on Dylan?  But then again, the chances of anything happening were
quite slim.  Lars might not even be gay.

As we walked into the bathroom I thought I'd see how far I could take
things.  I walked up to a urinal and began to unzip.  Lars followed me.
Not only that, but he took the one next to me.  So far, so good.  I pulled
out my cock, which had begun to chub up.  I could hear that Lars was
undoing his fly.  I looked over to see him fish out his dick, noting that
it was in a similar state to my own.  It was about the same length as mine,
though considerably thinner.

Moving my gaze upwards, I checked to see if Lars had spotted me staring.
His eyes were glancing downwards, towards my own cock.  Fucking hell, he
was checking me out.  Looking down towards his crotch again, I could see
his dick twitch as he rose to full mast.  Shit, he was getting hard from
looking at me.  My own equipment stood to attention in response.

I looked up again.  Lars must have done the same thing as our eyes locked
on each other.  Busted!  He grinned.  I grinned back.

"Do you want to...?" he asked, moving his hand clear from his shaft.  I
didn't reply, instead reaching over with my left hand and wrapping my
fingers around his warm, skinny rod.

"Aaaahhhh," he hissed.  Moments later, I felt his clammy fingers make
contact with my own meat.

"Oh yeah," I whimpered.  Taking his action as a cue to carry on, I gently
began to pump his shaft.  He followed suit on my own.

"Ohhh, ohhhh," he gasped.  I sped up my stroking.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it," I muttered as Lars also quickened his pace.

I felt Lars' penis stiffen in my hand.  "Oh yeah Andy... I'm gonna," he
wheezed as four good shots of teenage spunk burst out and splattered into
the urinal.

For a moment, Lars paused his stroking of my cock as he recovered from his
orgasm.  Keeping his right hand wrapped around my shaft, he took a step
towards me and started to knead my balls with his other.  The touch of his
supple fingers on my ball-sac sent shivers down my spine.  Pressing against
me, he nuzzled his face into my neck, planting little kisses onto my skin.
The feel of his moist lips and warm breath tipped me over the edge.  Like a
juggernaut hitting, my own orgasm enveloped me as I shot my jizz into the
porcelain bowl.

"Oh my," I panted.  "That was... incredible."

"Yeah... it was," he agreed.

Suddenly, I realised where we were.  "Shit!  We better get finished off
before anyone comes in."

Our dicks now soft, we both emptied our bladders and then washed up.

"I take it you're sixteen, right?" I asked as we exited the bathroom.

"Yeah, why?"

"Just wanted to check."  The last thing I needed, I figured, was another
relationship with a minor.

As we approached my terminal, we grabbed our bags and headed for the
employee lounge.

"So here it is.  The 'employee lounge'," I said, making air quotes with my
fingers.  Lars looked around.  "Yeah, I know," I continued.  "It's not as
fancy as it sounds.  Do you fancy a drink?"

"Please.  Just a glass of water's fine."

Reaching up, I took two glasses out of the cupboard and filled them with
water from the tap.  I handed one to Lars and then sat down.  "Take a
seat," I told him.  He sat in the chair right next to mine.  Not at all
subtle.

As we ate our lunches, we chatted back and forth.  I discovered that his
parents were both Norwegian - hence his name - and had both met at
university over here, before he was born.  They'd only yesterday arrived
back from three weeks over there, staying with his grandparents.  True to
his Nordic roots, he was into snowboarding and skiing, but had to settle
for artificial snow for most of the year, except at Christmas when they
usually spent a fortnight over in Norway where he could play in real snow
to his heart's content.  He thought he'd done fairly well in his GCSEs and
would find out his results the following week.  He wanted to go into the
world of business and decided that a BTEC in Business and Communication
would serve him better than doing his A levels.  Unfortunately, he told me,
his school didn't offer it, so he was having to leave and go to college
instead.  He was looking forward to it, but said he'd miss his friends.


***


Mid-afternoon, and the sales had kept on coming.  I began to think that
Lars was some sort of lucky charm.

After finalising another sale, Lars said to me, "Andy, I need to go to the
toilet."

"That's okay," I replied.  "You know where it is."

"But I was hoping you'd come with me," he said, as he stroked my leg.

"Fine," I giggled like a naughty schoolboy.  "It's about time for our
ten-minute break anyway."

We hurried into the bathroom.  "Cubicle this time," I told him, as I
ushered him in to one and locked the door behind us.  Reaching down, I
groped his crotch, feeling that he was already hard.

"Mmmmm," he moaned.  "Can I suck you this time?"  My goodness, he wasn't
backwards in coming forwards.

"Sure," I said.  Within moments, my trousers and underwear were down by my
ankles, and my engorged shaft was in his hand.  Bending it towards his
mouth, he pulled back the skin and with his tongue he lapped at the sticky
precum around the head.

The feel of Lars' soft, warm tongue on my sensitive cock-head was
mind-blowing.  My body trembled and I clenched my jaws to stop myself from
moaning too loudly.  As he watched, wide eyed, Lars opened his mouth and
took my hardness inside, wrapping his lips around the stiff shaft whilst at
the same time, still swirling his tongue around the tip.

I felt like I was in heaven.  As the waves of pleasure coursed through my
body, I put out my hand and ran my fingers through his silky hair.  Looking
down at him beating his meat, I watched my organ being expertly pleasured
by the sixteen-year old's mouth.

As the pleasure intensified, I screwed my eyes shut, concentrating, trying
to hold back as long as I could.  "I'm nearly coming," I hissed from
between clenched teeth, giving Lars notice that I was about to shoot.
Instead of taking his mouth from my throbbing rod, Lars increased the
pressure of his lips and the speed of his movements, while at the same time
pulling firmly on my swollen balls.

It was too much.  I couldn't hold back any longer.  With a strangled cry,
my body went tense as waves of cum like hot lava forced their way up my
hard shaft and erupted into Lars' mouth.  It seemed to go on and on, as if
he was trying to suck me dry.

"Stop.  Please stop," I gasped, as the orgasm subsided.  My cock felt so
sensitive that even having Lars' soft lips around it was becoming painful.

"Was it good?" the teenager asked, grinning, a trickle of my cum running
down his chin.

"It was absolute magic," I sighed, as I leaned back in a state of blissful
post-orgasmic exhaustion.  After taking a short while to recompose myself,
I said, "your turn now."

As Lars stood up, I lifted my trembling hands and unbuttoned his shirt.
Slowly, I began touching the stunning boy, beginning with his slim chest
and perky, little nipples.  I fingered the tender nubs, gently pinching
them between fingers and thumbs.  Lars gasped as the sensations washed over
him.  I let my hand slide down his silky torso, the warmth and softness of
his skin unbelievable, and then pulled down his trousers.  Through his
briefs, I gripped his swollen dick in my hand, working the hardness up and
down as my other hand went to fondle his plump pouch and poke gently at the
tender orbs it contained.

Lars groaned softly, his hips thrusting against my exploring hand, and I
leaned down to lick the softness of his tummy, my tongue tip invading the
cave of his navel.  God, he tasted wonderful, so fresh and boy-like, and
the heady scent of him was making me light headed.  I pulled back slightly,
and then stuck out my tongue to wash over the rigid tube of his encased
boyhood.  Lars rocked up onto his toes as his fingers threaded into my
hair, and I heard him sigh loudly as he uttered, "Awww shit...that feels
amazing...!"

Funny, that was pretty much exactly what I was thinking as I tongue washed
his rampant boner again and again until the gauzy briefs were soaked, and
fully transparent.  Still licking him, I slid my hand between his splayed
thighs and pressed firmly against that sweet spot just behind his balls,
and he groaned again as he tugged at my hair.

"Ohhhh fuck, Andy...jeez...!" he panted in excitement.

My own lust was on full boil by now, and I suddenly simply had to see, and
taste, this pulsing piece of boy-cock under my exploring tongue.  Sitting
back, I grabbed at the waist of the briefs, yanking forcefully downward
until his rampant young cock sprang free, slapping loudly against his
perfectly flat abdomen.  His ball sack dangled nicely between his firm
thighs, full and, I was certain, fully charged, and his boyhood treasure
simply took my breath sway as I gazed hungrily at it.  An impressive
offering for a sixteen year old boy, his cock was an easy six-plus inches
in length, formed as perfectly as an artist's sculpture, and crowned with a
crop of blonde hair.  The skin tone was a healthy pink, and the knob-like
head was a perfect mushroom shape that was a slightly purple tone.  I
licked my lips as I noticed the glistening precum that oozed from the tiny
slit at its centre.  Unable to hold back another second, I reached for this
perfect specimen of boyhood and lifted it off his abdomen.  Leaning
forward, I washed my tongue all over the head, swiping away his drooling
juices as he shuddered strongly.  I licked the length of the shaft, and
then lapped at his dangling pouch a bit before licking my way back to the
knob.

Opening my drooling mouth, I engulfed his beautiful cock to the hilt,
revelling in the sense of the spongy head hitting the back of my throat.
His fingers tugged at my hair, and he rocked up on his tip-toes again as I
bobbed my head up and down, sucking him like there was no tomorrow, while
my fingers went to prod his balls and that tender place just behind them.
He was offering up precum in a steady flow, and I relished the tartness of
the slippery fluid as I sucked him with all that I had, eager now to drive
him over the edge so that I might reap the tasty reward I knew was
forthcoming.  He bucked his hips to match my motions.

"Ohhhh man.. .ohhh golly... Andy... dude... I'm gonna... agggghhh...!!" he
wailed loudly as I felt his rigid stalk swell and buck in my drooling
mouth.  As he tugged painfully at my hair, his young balls rolled over, and
erupted, his powerful spurts of delicious boy-batter flooding my mouth.  I
struggled to gulp each creamy offering to make room for the next.  He
spurted half a dozen good offerings of his warm sweetness, the first
several jetting into my mouth so strongly I nearly gagged on them.  The
final spurts came in more of a rope-like dribble that seemed to go on
forever.

When his spasms finally subsided, and his spent cock began to wilt in my
still sucking mouth, I pulled back so that I could savour his creamy
nectar.  I rolled it around in my mouth before happily swallowing it down.
I smacked my lips, the delicious aftertaste lingering on my tongue.
Looking up at the still stunned and very flushed boy, I opened my mouth
widely to show him that I had managed to ingest the whole of his tasty
offering.

He grinned widely before collapsing back against the door, his chest
heaving as he gulped in air.  I stroked his smooth side, and ran my hand
over the heavenly mounds of his pert butt.  Regaining his breath at last,
he looked down at me, a satisfied if sheepish expression on his sweet face.

"Wow Andy, that was... awesome," he sighed.

"Yeah, it sure was," I agreed.  "But we better tidy ourselves up and get
back to work."


***


The rest of the afternoon went the same way as the rest of the day had: me
making calls and Lars sat close beside me, watching me intensely.

I ended a call to a rather brusque gentleman from Inverness and looked at
the time.  It was almost five o'clock.  "Well... looks like it's about time
for you to go," I said to Lars.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he said, glumly.

"Have you enjoyed yourself today?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, it's been great," he replied.  "Thanks Andy."

"The pleasure was all mine."

"Not all of it," he grinned.  "Hope to see you around next week."

"Yeah, so do I."

With that, he grabbed his bag and headed towards the chief's office.  And I
got back to work.


***


As I sat on the bus, I turned the events of the day over in my mind.

On the one hand, what I'd got up to with Lars had been great.  He was a
very nice lad, easy to talk to, and devilishly good looking.  And what's
more, unlike Dylan, he was legal.  Our encounters in the bathroom had been
mind-blowing, and I hoped we might find the opportunity to repeat what we'd
done over the next couple of weeks.  Maybe even go further - if he was up
for that!

But at the same time, there was a nagging doubt in the back of my head.
Although I'd told Dylan I was happy for him to have fun with other boys,
and was heartily encouraging him to get together with Oliver, what I'd done
with Lars felt like I was cheating on Dylan.  It was stupid really.  We
both knew that once the list was finished, our sessions would come to an
end, and we'd both move on.  Hopefully Dylan would find himself a boyfriend
- Oliver, or Luke, or maybe someone else entirely - and I'd find myself
someone too.  Goodness knows I needed to.  It had been over a year and a
half since my last serious relationship, and having Dylan come into my life
had reminded me of that deep need we all have for someone to share our life
with, to be connected to, and to snuggle up with at the end of a long day.

Maybe Lars could be that person.  Or maybe not.  Only time would tell.  My
most pressing concern was whether I should tell Dylan and Lars about each
other.  Not yet, I decided.  After all, I didn't know what was going to
happen with Lars.  Perhaps what had happened today was just a one-off event
for him.  When I saw him on Monday, he might decide he doesn't want
anything more to do with me.  And even if we hooked up again, or even
started dating, telling him about Dylan at this stage could well scare him
off.

As for Dylan, what good would it do to tell him?  I knew it might upset
him.  And what would be the point if me and Lars was only a one-time thing?
Maybe if things got a bit more serious, then I'd tell him.  But not yet.


***


Arriving home, I strode into the lounge to find Dylan sat on the sofa,
watching TV.  I walked over to him.  White, crusty lines ran across his
face and his hair was matted in places.

"Glad to see you did as I requested," I said.

"Well, you did say I'd get a reward," he said enthusiastically.

"Indeed I did," I replied.  Leaning in for a kiss, I inhaled deeply.  He
smelled like a brothel; my dried cum on his face giving off a ripe, almost
bleachy odour.  I wondered how he'd got through the day with that scent
filling his nostrils every time he breathed.  As I leant in further, our
lips met, our mouths parted, and our tongues touched.  For the next few
minutes, we were as one, locked together in a lust-filled embrace.

"So was that my reward?" he asked as our kiss ended.

"No.  Let me go get it," I replied.  Dylan's face lit up.  Perhaps he hoped
it was the key to unlock him.  He was in for a disappointment if he did.
Stepping out into the hallway, I picked up the bag I'd left there when I
came in.  Placing the bag on the coffee table, I began to unload its
contents.  Dylan looked at the boxes eagerly.

"Is that...?" he asked.

"Chinese takeaway?  Yeah," I replied.

"Awesome!" he hollered.  "I'm starving!"

"I guessed you might be," I chuckled.  Food and sex, I'm sure that's all
this boy ever thinks about.  And since I was depriving him of sex for the
moment, I figured the best I could do was give him plenty of the other.
"Why don't you go wash your face," I suggested, "and I'll go grab us some
plates."

I returned to the lounge with some plates and chopsticks and began to load
some sweet and sour pork onto my plate.  From above me I could hear what
sounded like a herd of elephants crashing down the stairs, though I knew it
was only Dylan racing back down for some food.  "Leave some for me," he
said, parking himself on the sofa next to me.

Our plates mounded high, we relaxed on the sofa and began to eat.  As was
becoming our regular routine, we watched the evening's action from Rio.
First up was a replay of Nicola Adams' powerful performance which saw her
clinch her second gold medal as she destroyed her French opponent.

This was followed by the final of the men's 10m platform.  We were both
disappointed that we wouldn't get to see Tom Daley in action - for more
than one reason! - but, as Dylan told me, some error strewn dives in the
semi-final had knocked him out.  The final was a good competition
nevertheless, though was somewhat predictably won by China's Aisen Chen.
Dylan gave a running commentary throughout - well, between mouthfuls of
food - explaining to me the difficulty of each dive and critiquing each
one.

Once the diving medals were handed out, we cleaned up and headed for bed.
We would dearly have loved to watch Mo Farah in action, but his race wasn't
on until the early hours and both of us were too tired to stay up.


***


With a day off work ahead of me, we laid in bed longer than usual, happily
snuggling together.  Eventually though, I could hear Dylan's tummy rumbling
and so we headed downstairs.  I'd recorded last night's athletics, so while
Dylan fast forwarded to the start of Mo's race, I rustled us up some
breakfast.

"Andy, it's ready!" Dylan called, a little while later.

"Okay.  Pause it for a minute.  I'm just about to plate up."

After piling the eggs on top of some toast and placing several rashers of
bacon on top, I took our plates and some cutlery through to the lounge.

"Thanks Andy," Dylan said, taking his plate.  "This looks delicious."

"That's okay," I replied as I sat down next to him.  "Now let's watch this
race."  Dylan picked up the remote and pressed play.

After his victory a few days earlier in the 10,000 metres, I was confident
Mo would claim another gold in this shorter race.  As the gun sounded, both
mine and Dylan's eyes were glued to the screen, our forks occasionally
lifting up towards our mouths as we watched the race unfold.  From the
outset, the two Ethiopians - Gebremeskel and Gebrhiwet - were in the lead
and were pushing the pace, with Farah dropping to his customary tail end
position.  Soon, the American Chelimo surged towards the front, moving in
behind the two Ethiopians.  I began to worry slightly.

I needn't have done.  With five and a half laps to go, , Farah made his
move and hit the front.  Over the next few laps, there were several
attempts to overtake him, but Farah used all his experience to keep his
opponents at bay.  Chelimo however was determined to push him hard, and by
the final bend the American was on Farah's shoulder.  The tension was
almost unbearable.  Farah accelerated again, pulling away down the home
stretch.

"Yes, yes, yes," we cried in unison as we jumped up and hugged each other.
Mo had won by five metres!

We sat back down to see Farah kneel down and kiss the track.  Going over
towards the stands, he caught a flag that was thrown towards him and
started his victory lap.

"Wow!  That was amazing!" Dylan exclaimed.

"Yeah.  What a close race.  Arise Sir Mo," I said as I laid my arm on first
one, then the other, of Dylan's shoulders, as I pretended to make him a
Knight.

We collapsed against each other in a fit of giggles.  "So," I said after
we'd recovered.  "What do you fancy doing for the rest of the morning?".

"Dunno," he replied.  "Maybe we could go out somewhere.  I could do with a
bit of fresh air after being cooped up all day yesterday."

"How about crazy golf," I suggested.  "There's a course not far away."

"Yeah.  Could be fun."


***


A short car ride later, we arrived at the course.  After paying to get in,
we made our way to the first hole, each with a putter and a ball in tow.

As we made our way around the ten-hole course, Dylan's competitive edge
came to the fore.  Having said that, so did mine.

By the penultimate hole, we were level pegging on 22 shots each.  But this
next hole looked tricky.  It needed a straight shot, but had the added
complication of there being a small hill between the tee and the hole.  Hit
the ball too softly, and you wouldn't get up the hill.  Hit it too hard,
and you risked the ball flying off onto a different part of the course
entirely.

Dylan stepped up first.  Obviously trying to reign in his natural instincts
to go for power, he under-hit his shot.  The ball only made it halfway up
the ramp before it ran out of steam and trickled back down.

"Bad luck," I said, trying to be sporting.  Dylan didn't take it that way
and gave me an icy glare.

He lined up for a second shot.  This time he hit it harder.  The ball was
making its way towards the top of the hill, but it didn't quite have
enough.  Coming to a halt just before the summit, it once again rolled back
down.

"Fucking hell!" he cried out in frustration.  Third time lucky, he hit the
ball even harder.  This time it went all the way up the hill.  But it was
going too fast.  Instead of rolling down the other side, it shot off,
flying past the hole and only just landing inside the perimeter.  "Oh well.
At least it went over," he exclaimed, before sinking a simple put to take
his score to 26.

My turn now.  I placed my ball on the starting spot.  Eager not to repeat
the mistakes Dylan made, I lined up my club and gave it a good whack.  "Oh
shit," I groaned as the wall flew up the hill, took off at the summit, and
overshot the hole considerably as it landed on the pitch for the next hole.

"That's a two-shot penalty," Dylan reminded me as he laughed his head off.

"Yeah, I know," I replied, setting off to retrieve my ball and apologising
to the players on the next hole whose game I'd interrupted.

I placed my ball back at the start.  Now wanting to pick up any more
penalty shots, I undercooked my next attempt.  Trying to refocus myself, I
played a few practice swings, trying to feel the power I needed to get a
happy medium between my previous efforts.  Feeling a bit more confident, I
put the ball down and swung my club.  Perfect!  The ball shot forwards,
straight as an arrow.  It climbed heroically up the hill, slowing down to
almost a stop as it crept over the summit.  Then gravity took its course
and the ball glided down the other side, nestling gently into the hole.

"Yes!" I pumped my fist in celebration.  "All square again."

If possible, the final hole presented even more of a challenge.  There was
no hill this time, but there was the dreaded windmill.  The task was fairly
simple: hit the ball several feet, through the opening at the base of the
windmill with enough force that it reaches the hole just behind it.  It
would be simple enough if it wasn't for the rotating blades which
intermittently barred the opening.

"You first this time," Dylan said.

Placing the ball down, I watched the windmill for a few moments, hoping to
judge the timing of the rotations.  As I sent it down the green, it turned
out my calculations weren't right, as the ball hit one of the blades and
ricocheted back towards me.

Luckily, the impact had taken away some of its energy, and it was now only
a foot away from the windmill.  I hit it again.  As it trundled forwards, I
could see a blade coming towards it.  I said a little prayer.  With
millimetres to spare, the ball made it into the opening.  Rushing to follow
it, I watched it come out of the other side and fall into the hole.

"Yes!" I cheered.  Only two shots, I thought to myself.  There's no way
Dylan's going to beat that!

With an apprehensive look on his face, Dylan stepped up to take his shot.
Drawing back his club, he took aim and hit the ball.  It zoomed towards the
windmill, somehow managed to avoid the onrushing blades, and vanished into
the opening.  As we ran around the other side, we were just in time to see
it clip the side of the hole and come back out again.  Dylan screwed his
face up in despair, before knocking in the simple tap-in.

"Well," I said, offering him my hand.  "28 shots each.  An honourable
draw."


***


Arriving back at home, we took off our shoes and socks, which had become
sweaty after our morning's activities.  I made us both some sandwiches,
which Dylan wolfed down as always.

"So what are we doing this afternoon?" he asked after he'd finished
scoffing his pudding.

"Well, since you chose what we did this morning," I replied.  "I thought
I'd choose what we do this afternoon."

"Fair enough.  So where are we going?"

"The bedroom."

Once upstairs, I put my arms around Dylan and pulled him in to a slow,
sensuous kiss.  With our tongues entwined, we fell onto the bed.  Reaching
down, I grasped the hem of Dylan's t-shirt.  Slowly I pushed it upwards
until it was trapped underneath his armpits.  Breaking the kiss, I pulled
the garment over his head before shucking off my own top.

We kissed again, Dylan grinding his hot teen body against mine in a fog of
lust.  Eventually I broke off the kiss again and knelt down at his feet.
Grabbing my head, Dylan pulled it into his abs.  Responding to his move, I
stuck my tongue into his belly button while I lowered his shorts and then
his boxers, exposing his trapped boyhood.  I could see the cock trying to
get hard; trying to escape its confines but being stopped by the cage.

"Come on Andy, take it off me," he pleaded.

"You know I can't," I replied.  "The key's still in Scotland."

I stood up, letting him watch as I slid my shorts down.  Once again I could
see him trying to get hard as he watched me reveal my body to him.
Finally, I took off my boxers, showing him my stone hard rod, dripping with
precum.

I worked my way up his body, kissing his abs; up between his nipples,
stopping for a quick lick on the way; until I was once again kissing him
while laying on my teen boy.  While kissing him, I grabbed his arms and
pushed them up above his head, inhaling the delicious aroma of teen boy
coming from his sparsly haired pits.

"Remind me," I said.  "How did it feel when you were tied up the other
day?"

"Oh god," he replied.  "It was so hot.  I don't know why, but letting you
control me like that really turns me on."

"Good.  Then that's what we'll do this afternoon."

Dylan grinned, but then looked a little sad.  "Fucking hell," he said.  "If
I can't get hard, this is gonna be torture, isn't it?"

I kissed him softly on the lips.  "You're a trooper.  You'll get through
it," I told him.  "And just think how good it's gonna feel when you finally
do get to shoot!"

Opening a drawer at the side of the bed, I pulled out the restraints we'd
used before.  I soon had his hands attached to the headboard.  Then,
grabbing his right leg, I pushed it backwards.  I looped the rope behind
his knee and tied this to the headboard too.  Repeating the action with his
left leg, I admired my handiwork.  His hole was nice and exposed, just as
I'd planned.  The sight of Dylan being secured into place like that made my
balls tingle with excitement.

"This feels so sexy," Dylan panted.

Grabbing the shoebox out of the wardrobe, I repeated my actions from
Wednesday evening.  After loosening him up with my finger, I then worked
the three inch, four and a half inch, then finally the six inch dildo into
Dylan's boy-hole.  The noises he was making were extraordinary.

"How does that feel?" I asked him.

"Even better than last time," he replied.  "It feels like I'm being wanked
off from the inside."

"Then let's try something special," I said.  "Something we didn't do on
Wednesday."  Dylan looked intrigued.  Pulling the tool back slightly, I
pressed a button on its base."

"Oh my!" Dylan gasped as the dildo began to vibrate.

"You like it?" I asked.  The look on Dylan's face told me everything.
"I'll be back soon," I told him as I headed out of the door and downstairs.

After logging into my laptop and setting up what I needed to, I brought it
upstairs and connected it to the wall mounted TV.  The screen flashed and
was quickly filled with the sight of two twinkish boys in a college room,
each laid in their own bed.  The one nearest the camera, clad in only a
black vest, was watching something on his phone and obviously masturbating.
Turning around, his shirtless roommate asked him if he was jacking off.

"Don't go anywhere," I said to Dylan, whose eyes were glued to the screen.

"Like I could if I wanted to," he shot back.

Pulling my shorts back on, I headed out of the door and downstairs to get
on with some chores.


***


After cleaning the kitchen and the lounge, I headed back to the bedroom.
The video had now changed.  A tall, blonde jock was being serviced by a
twinkier looking blonde and a dark haired, well-hung young man.

Dylan was enraptured.  His body bucked against his restraints, as the dildo
continued to stimulate his love-tunnel.  I imagined that had his cock not
been locked away in the chastity device, it may well have been enough to
push him over the edge and make him cum.

"Feeling horny yet?" I asked him.

"Fucking hell, Andy," he replied.  "I've been pretty much permanently horny
since Thursday morning!"


***


I returned a short while later, the bathroom and study now sparkling, to
see a new video pop up on the screen.  This one was different to the
others, and I was unsure how Dylan would react.  Face down inside an empty
paddling pool, lay a lad with a shaved head.  His arms were tied behind his
back, and his legs were similarly secured together.  Two other lads got
into the pool with him, both only clad in their underwear.  One in front of
him, the other behind.

Standing next to Dylan for a few moments, I watched the action unfold.  The
lad standing behind the captive boy bent down and slapped his bottom,
telling him he'd got a nice arse.  The one at the front ground his crotch
into the tied-up boy's face as his compatriot rubbed his hands up and down
the bound boy's back and rear.

I looked over to see Dylan's reaction.  His eyes were glazed over and his
mouth agape.

"You enjoying this?" I asked him as I rubbed my hand across his chest and
down his belly.  He trembled at my touch.

"Yeah," he breathed, quietly.  "I sort of... wish... they were doing
that... to me."

OMG, I thought to myself.  I wonder if he'll feel like that by the end of
the video after they've showered the lad with their piss and cum?

Leaving him once more, I trundled downstairs and out into the garden.


***


I returned to the bedroom nearly 50 minutes later, just in time to see the
climax of the final video.  A young American was laying on the floor, his
arse stuck up in the air and showing signs of being recently used.
Surrounding him stood four eastern European hunks, each one jerking off
over the lad.

On the bed, Dylan was breathing heavily, thrusting his butt against the
mattress, almost as if trying to drive the dildo deeper inside himself.

As the boys on the screen began to shoot their loads, I shucked off my
shorts, leaving me standing naked in front of Dylan, my dick painfully
hard.  Dylan looked over as he heard the sound of my zipper, seemingly too
lost in the video to notice me before.

Taking a step towards him, I stuck my cock in his face.  Dutifully, he
stuck out his tongue and began to lap at the head.  Pushing forward
slightly, my organ entered his mouth.  Almost as if his life depended on
it, Dylan began to suck.  Just as the video ended, my balls erupted, my
thick semen filling his mouth.  Like a trooper, he swallowed the lot.

After turning off the laptop and TV, I gently pulled out the dildo before
undoing Dylan's restraints.  I helped him ease his arms and legs back into
place, giving them a soft rub as I did so.

"How do you feel?" I asked him.

"Oh geez," he said.  "Those videos... wow!  I mean, I've seen some porn,
but they were like, something else."

"What about the third one?" I queried.  "How was that?  I hope it wasn't
too much."

"Are you kidding me.  That was fucking amazing!  Imagine being tied up like
that and having two total strangers do all that to you.  It'd be well
sick!"

"And how're your arms and legs?  They're not too sore are they?"

"Nah, I'll be fine.  But I feel like I need to cum soooo badly!  At one
point I thought I was gonna lose my mind.  It was weird.  It was like the
most sexually exciting moment of my life, yet I didn't even have a boner.
I can't wait till that key arrives back tomorrow," he sighed.

"If it arrives tomorrow," I said.

"It bloody well better do," he replied.  "Or else I might have to murder
that postman!"


***


For a Sunday evening, Pizza Hut was surprisingly busy when we arrived.  As
we munched away on our pizzas, I broached a subject that I'd been wondering
about for a few days.

"So have you spoken to Oliver since you've been here?" I asked.

"We've chatted online a couple of times," he replied.

"And...?"

"And what?"

"Are you getting on?" I pushed.

"Yeah, he's nice," came the short reply.

"And do you like him?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

I didn't say anything, hoping that a bit of silence would force Dylan to
open up more.

"He's funny, and clever," he carried on.  "He's got a bit of an obsession
with comic books - especially Spiderman.  He loves Harry Potter too, but
then again, who doesn't?  He's got a younger sister, and two cats called
Peter and Parker.  His mum and dad split up a couple of years ago, so he
doesn't get to see his dad too much.  He's not that into sports, but he
does have swimming lessons.  I suggested we go swimming together sometime.
Oh, and he's in the Scouts.  His favourite food's lasagne.  We're pretty
much into the same music: Bastille, Twenty One Pilots, The 1975, those
sorts of bands.  He plays guitar - classical mainly, but he has been
teaching himself electric too."

Pausing, Dylan looked up at me.  "Sorry," he said.  "I'm rambling."

"Don't worry," I replied.  "It's cute.  Seeing you in love."

"Fuck off," he said, blushing ferociously.

"So are you going to go out with him?"

"Maybe," he mumbled.  Despite his coyness, I knew he meant yes.


***


After paying for our tickets, we hurriedly dashed in to the cinema just as
the trailers were ending.  Typically, Dylan had had to have a pudding, and
it had taken longer to arrive than anticipated, although Dylan pretty much
made up for that with the speed at which he ate it.  He'd then, however,
demanded we get some popcorn when we arrived at the cinema because,
apparently, "You can't watch a film and not have anything to munch on."

As we settled into our seats, popcorn firmly held on Dylan's lap, the film
began: Ben-Hur, a remake of the 1959 Charlton Heston classic.  It had been
Dylan's choice.  I think the poster showing the male lead without many
clothes on had swung it.  I'd been doubtful about it, but soon began to
enjoy it.

Dylan was enraptured by the action on screen, swallowing down handfuls of
popcorn as he watched.  I grabbed the occasional piece from the tub, our
fingers touching on several occasions as we inadvertently dived in at the
same time.

As the long waited for chariot race began, Dylan put his hand on my thigh,
obviously feeling tense.  Putting my arm round his shoulder, I pulled him
towards me.  It was lovely, just holding him like that.  My mind began to
wander, thinking about me and Lars; Dylan and Oliver.  Soon all this could
be over, each of us going our own way.  A silent tear trickled down my
cheek.

***

End of chapter 16.  Bonus points for anyone who can work out what any of
the four videos Andy made Dylan watch were.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated - andybrown2000@outlook.com