Date: Wed, 29 Jun 2005 15:22:26 +0100
From: Mike Arram <marram@wanadoo.co.uk>
Subject: Terry & the Peachers 13

This story follows on from an earlier Nifty story published on the College
site -- 'The Decent Inn'.  It follows up on some of the loose ends and some
of the marginal characters in the earlier story, as well as continuing the
story of the rocky romance of Matthew White and Andy Peacher, and the story
of their friend Paul Oscott.  The institutions named in it are (almost) all
imaginary.  Matthew's home university is in an entirely fictional
university city in England somewhere between Reading and Swindon and its
resemblances to any real university are simply generic.  The persons
described in the story are also fictitious and bear no resemblance to any
living person.

The story contains graphic depictions of sex, mostly between young males.
If the reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your
place of residence please leave this site immediately and do not proceed
further.  If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so.



XIII


Terry knocked at the centre door, and waited to be asked in.  It was Andy's
father who asked him to enter.  He swallowed a lump in his throat and
opened the door.
  'Sit down, Terry.'
  'Sir.'  The blunt and heavy face was sizing him up.  'Andy has brought me
up to date.  How do you feel?'
  'OK, sir.  The headache's gone, although the lump is still there behind
me ear.'
  'My second son seems to have taken a shine to you.'
  'Pete's a good kid.'
  'Something I always told Andy, but he had his doubts ... I don't think he
does now, do you son?'
  'No dad.  It was worth waiting for the boy to get it together.  Still
wish he would stop tormenting the twins though.'
  'Let's stick with what's possible.'  Richard Peacher gave a faint smile
and then sobered as he shifted some papers.  'This man Anson is still in
contact with my wife.  I believe he's in France with the documents he took
from here.  I think they'll be meeting in this area soon, or so Sylvia and
her people believe.  It's not of any real importance that they meet, but I
really would like to know what they are talking about, what they're
planning next ... if they're planning anything next.  We know that my wife
has graduated into becoming an accessory to murder, and her career is going
to have to come to an abrupt end pretty soon.  I'm still pondering how to
do that, but we will do it very soon, Terry.  In the meantime we must
protect her potential victims and since you're less accessible at the
moment to Anson, or anyone he hires, it's Paul Oscott we need to protect
most.  We need him kept out of circulation and safe for a fortnight, Terry.
Can you do it?'
  'Yes sir, I think I can.'
  'A fortnight will see the end of the affair, one way or another.'  He
paused and looked down at the papers he had.  'You've picked two good young
people as your assistants, I see.  Can you tell me why you made the choices
you did?'
  'Well, sir.  I wanted people close to Andy's ... I mean, your son's age.
I needed one with a logistical mind, since we're losing Sylvia, to organise
our moves and needs.  That's why I picked Mark Rudat.  A degree in PPE from
Manchester, good general background in British political life.  He then had
a year running a night centre for homeless kids in Leeds which says a lot
for him, and it's likely to be helpful when your son's schemes begin to
come on line in a couple of years.'
  'Good call, Terry,' murmured Andy appreciatively.  His father nodded.
  'At the moment, he's an assistant in European acquisitions in London.  He
speaks good French and German.  Seems to be doing OK, but his section head
says he's not entirely happy dealing with markets.  When I rang him
yesterday and did a phone interview, he jumped at the chance.  This isn't
on his file, but his current relationship has just gone down the tubes and
he's ready for a move for more than one reason.'
  'What's your plan for him?'
  'For now, he'll take charge of Andy's movements and, er ... supervise his
domestic budget.  He'll stay here when I move back to the UK on Wednesday.'
  Richard Peacher smiled a little, Andy's innumeracy and incomprehension of
finances was soon known to anyone who came into contact with him.  'The
second?'
  '... Is Jenna Hartash.  She joined the Peacher organisation after
resigning her commission in the Royal Marines.  There was a slight scandal
when she broke the arm of a male colleague who tried to take a, er
... liberty with her on exercises.  She won the case at court martial, but
was disillusioned and has been working for two years as an assistant to the
security chief in London.  She's proficient in unarmed combat and all forms
of weaponry, came twenty-eighth in the last New York marathon, and frankly,
sir, she scares the hell out of me.  But I would feel a lot safer with her
protecting my back.  And sir, I want her to come with me on Wednesday.  Can
I have your permission to fill her in on some at least of the details so
she knows what we're up against?  She was a little puzzled to be phoned out
of the blue, but jumped at the chance to travel, she said.  Currently no
attachments.'
  'Lesbian?'  asked Richard Peacher coolly.
  'No, sir ... she just frightens men.'
  'She frighten you, son?'
  'I'm gay, sir.  Don't give a damn what she thinks of me, and I'm not in
competition with her.'
  Another small smile flitted across Richard Peacher's face.  'Take her
with you then, son, if it makes you feel safer.  We have enough security
men here.  We're going to stay at Courcon, almost until this is all played
out, you understand?  I want to keep my wife from his usual sources in
Santa Barbara. You're to keep closely in touch with me and Andy.  You don't
work to Sylvia, but keep her informed of anything that comes up, she has
the biggest job to do of all of us.  But more of that some other time.'
  'Sir.'
  'I don't think we should meet again.  There's at least one person in my
current entourage who is working for Ellie, and is in a position to
complicate matters by passing on inconvenient information.  So off you go,
and take care.'
  'Yes,' said Andy, 'look after Paulie, Terry, and look after yourself.'
Terry made his farewells and headed back to his room.  He needed some
release and he needed the feel of Ramon's body under him, really badly.
But he didn't find it easy to get there.  Matt called after him.
  'Terry, can I have a word?'
  'Of course, boss's better half.'  Matt smiled, 'I'm coming with you back
to Britain.'
  'Aw no, don' do that Matt, it's gonna be complicated enough as it is.
Why do you have to make me life a misery?'
  'Because I'm useless here.  In California I was the one with a job to do,
here I'm just supercargo, and the peace of this place has been ruined for
me now in any case.  I've seen the French people about the modelling
contract, so there's no reason to stay any more.  Also there's some ad work
in London that's come up.  I promise not to do anything stupid or get in
the way, but I'm going back, to see my folks and check in at the
university.  I promise to keep out of your way.'
  'Talk it over with Andy ... please.  But my advice is to stay here, Andy
may need you.'
  Mme Cirier held him up for half an hour with complaints about the new
Peacher arrivals, and expecting him to sort it, when he could only offer
sympathy.  But he offered the sympathy regardless.
  When he finally got to his room over the stables, it was ten and Ramon
was exhausted and asleep. Terry sighed and stripped off, climbing in behind
him.  Ramon was wearing underpants.  He carefully pulled them down to his
ankles, removed them and snuggled spoonwise behind his now naked lover,
sighing as his enlarging cock slotted into the warm, slightly damp crack
between Ramon's soft buttocks.  His right hand found Ramon's crotch,
running through the rich dark curls of his pubic hair, and gently stroking
him erect, then cupping and caressing his hairy balls.  Ramon slept on, but
sighed and moaned, and holding his lover's dick, Terry fell asleep too.
  He awoke early, they had fallen apart in the night, and Ramon too was
awake, staring at his face.  They kissed.  Terry took his hand and they
padded together down the empty corridor and into the bathroom.  They peed
together into the toilet bowl, each holding the other's enlarged cock.
Terry enjoyed the feel of his lover's hot, bright yellow urine pulsing out
of him like a hose.  Then they necked as the bath filled, their cocks
pressing together.  They sank luxuriously under its surface.  They began
soaping and cleaning each other, washing each other's hair.  Terry gave his
lover a meaning glance and knelt up in front of him invitingly at the tap
end of the bath.  'You up to it, babe?'  Eager fingers found his anus and
began preparing him.  Then Ramon was kneeling behind him, his breath sweet
in his ear, and his cock head at his entry.  He squeezed past it with a
gasp, and Terry felt Ramon slide easily into him. 'Fuck me good, babe.
I've waited for this.' And Ramon gripped the old fashioned taps in front of
him and began thrusting at first gently and then spasmodically, Terry
pushing his arse back as Ramon pushed in, until a huge heave pushed Terry
hard forward and Ramon groaned as he unloaded deep inside him.
   They knelt together, connected, Ramon breathing heavily, until he was
ready to pull out.  Then he cleaned out Terry's loosened rectum with his
fingers, soaping the sweat off him.  'Oo lover, I've got nearly my whole
hand in you ... feel that?'
  'Really?'  Terry certainly felt fuller than he ever had, even fuller than
when Anson rammed a dildo into him.  'Those slim fingers of yours are
magic.  Turn them in me ... Oh!  God!  I felt that.  No, keep twisting,
it's good.  I'll push down, see how far you can go.'
  Ramon kept up a steady pressure until he gasped, 'Oh Terry.  All my
hand's in you, including my knuckles, and, yes, I can squeeze some more.  I
didn't know this was possible.  Is it hurting?'
  Terry felt really weird, and felt the pull of his lover's hand on the
velvety skin of his sphincter, but it wasn't hurting.  He kept
concentrating.  Finally Ramon said he was in him as far he could go, up to
his wrist and he could feel the entry into Terry's lower gut.  Terry
shuddered as Ramon tested it with a finger.  His cock was dripping with
clear fluid as his prostate came under pressure.
  'No more, Terry, I'm nervous.' Terry felt the pull as Ramon left him
slowly, as if he was pulling his rectum inside out.  'You should see the
size of your hole, lover.  It's like a red cave, no it's pulling together
now.  Hey, none of your shit on my hand either.  You're really clean in
there.'
  Terry reached around, pushed down on his bowel and opened himself up
again with his own fingers, enjoying the feel of fullness. 'That was
strange, but really good.  We gotta try that again, babe.'
  They lay back down again, Ramon on Terry, Terry kissing his nape and
shoulders.  As the water cooled, they got out. They dried each other and
stood naked shaving side by side, grinning soppily at each other, both
erect again.  They padded back to Terry's room and dressed, ready for the
day.  Ramon kissed him as he straightened the knot of his tie.  'See you
later, lover.  I gotta do something about that bulge in your trousers
before the end of the day, OK?'
  'See you in the entrance hall at twelve, right?'

Terry spent the morning sorting out the accommodation for his new staff,
taking especial care that Mark Rudat would get full facilities, and fixing
up an interview with Andy.  He also went looking for Matt.
  Matt looked as though he'd spent a bad night, unusually for him.  'I hope
very much that Andy has talked you out of your plan, Matt.'
  'We had a ... discussion about it last night.  He wasn't at all happy.
But I made my views clear, and we will be going Wednesday.'
  Terry knew that Matt could be very stubborn when it suited him.  Matt and
Andy were clearly not talking, but Matt had carried his point at the price
of some present unhappiness.  He suddenly noticed something about Matt.  He
had got used to the breathtaking good looks, and at last he was seeing the
man inside them, who was much like any other man, he decided: stubborn,
wilful and inclined to want his own way. He knew that Matt and Andy were
devoted lovers, but they were no more exceptional than any other devoted
pair.  They had their rough patches and this seemed to be one of them.
  At midday he rendezvoused with Ramon and sneaked out of the chateau,
which was far too full and busy as far as he was concerned.  He had till
two and they were going to make the most of their break.  They ran into the
trees, hand in hand after they got out of sight.  It was a warm and sunny
day, and the new green was everywhere.  He and Ramon found a grass-grown
clearing well beyond any possibility of observation and he stripped Ramon
of his clothes, throwing off his own.  He stood breathing heavily, his
hands on Ramon's flanks.  Sun dappled their skin and the cool air moved
over their genitals, the living ground was under their naked toes.  It was
very arousing and they were both very aroused.
  Terry grabbed Ramon's stiff cock, and ran pulling him with it, deeper
into the woods, scuffling along a dusty path into a darker grove.  He took
to his knees and began licking at Ramon's straining cock, pushing back the
foreskin with his lips, sucking and swallowing.  Ramon put his hands on his
head and arched, groaning, his legs wide apart.  Then Terry found his anus
with his fingers and began massaging his pucker, pushing cautiously in.
Ramon encouraged him saying it didn't hurt now.  Eventually Ramon pulled
out of his mouth and got Terry on his hands and knees and began lapping at
his backside.  They were in transports, Terry had his eyes closed,
savouring every second.  Ramon could no longer resist the need to copulate,
he soaked his cock with their saliva, and mounted Terry, butting away at
his arse, grunting and crying out.  This was better than ever, like animals
in the wild.  Terry's orgasm boiled up in him unexpectedly.  His penis
swelled, pulsed and his sperm spattered and dripped on the ground under him
as he groaned and swayed his arse under Ramon's battering.  He clamped hard
on Ramon who came climactically and fell hard on him, pushing him down into
the cum-soaked dirt.  They rolled over.
  'Wow,' Terry gasped.
  'S amazing,' Ramon replied.
  'We do this again.'  A stifled noise got them both sitting up.  'Oh no.
Oh God,' Terry cursed.  'Come out you little sod!'  The bushes shook and
Peter Peacher emerged, looking a little embarrassed, but impish and very
much aroused at the same time.  He was in trainers, shorts and tee shirt,
and it was evident that his shorts had only just been pulled up, it was
tented out with a dark spot at the apex.
  'You been beating off watching us, haven't you?'
  'Sorta.' He grinned broadly, 'You didn't say it was the rutting season
for the animals.  You know you came like a horse, Terry.  Didn't even touch
yourself!  It was way better than the clips on the web me and Jordan
found.'
  'Me and Ramon are not a floor show,' Terry said, 'that was an intrusion.'
  'I thought the intrusion was what Ramon did to you, ha ha!'  Terry
snarled to himself, pulled a red-faced Ramon up and they padded off to get
their clothes.  Peter followed, still smiling to himself.
  As they got dressed, Terry caught Peter very obviously sizing up his
body.  'You guys look so hot; you're buff, Terry, and what a tool you got.
Does something that big really hurt when it's in you, Ramon?  Jordan's just
a shrimp compared to that.'
  Ramon mumbled something unintelligible.
  'I'll get you back for that, Pete.'  The younger Peacher chortled and
sauntered off, apparently very pleased with himself.  Ramon and Terry
exchanged glances.  Terry shrugged, 'I bloody will too,' he promised, 'if
it's the last thing I do.'
  Ramon looked at him, 'How about the way you got me back?'
  'You weren't the boss's brother'
  'Fuck that. Wait here.' Ramon snapped at him, and he was off barefoot,
haring naked and silent after Peter through the woods.  Terry didn't
follow.  He remembered all of a sudden that Ramon had a quite tough
background, and got nervous.  Ramon came back three minutes later, and
threw a bundle down, Peter's clothes and trainers.
  'Christ, what've you done?'
  'Held him down, stripped him naked and told him to enjoy the wildlife and
keep under cover.  I said I'd be back at four when he'd learned his lesson.
I left him his watch.'
  'Oh jeez.  This'd better not get you into trouble.'
  'Nah.  He enjoyed it.  He was hoping I'd do more than strip him.  Believe
me, the look on his face was real aroused and his stiff white dick was up
like a flagstaff when I ripped off his shorts.  He's a real hormonal
whore.'

Disconcerted and still a little nettled, Terry straightened his tie as he
waited for the car bringing his two new staff from the station at Niort.
He pulled himself together.  A plume of white came up the drive following a
car.  He walked down the shallow steps as it drew up.  Jenna and Mark
emerged, Mark smiling hesitantly in his direction.  Mark was a decent
looking man of twenty four, his thick dark hair clearly difficult to
manage.  Jenna was an unsmiling blonde not much older, compact and tense.
He shook hands with both, and asked about their trip.  They took out their
bags and followed him round the back to the stable block and up the side
stairs.  Terry showed them their rooms, and then took them down to the
kitchen, and borrowed a corner from Madame Cirier.  She had coffee and
sandwiches ready for him.  The two aides looked expectantly at him.
  'You call me Terry,' he said, 'and you answer to me, though of course Mr
Andrew Peacher is your boss, like he is mine, and we do what he says unless
we can talk him out of it.'
  'Sure,' 'Understood,' they nodded.
  'I think you know what's expected of you.  I've fixed up appointments
with Mr Peacher for you this afternoon, just to introduce yourself.'
  Mark was clearly bursting to ask something, 'What's it like working for a
gay?'
  'Never worked for a homosexual boss before?'  Terry smiled to himself,
'You'll find out I guess.  He's never made a pass at me, not even pinched
my bum.  So I expect you're safe, Mark.  He's a great guy, forget whatever
expectations you might have had.
  We don't have any office space here, I'm afraid, so you'll have to work
from your laptops or in the comm centre on the first floor rear, if you can
get space.  It's a bit full at the moment.  Present plans, Mark, are for us
to be here maybe foras long as a fortnight.  Mr Peacher's plans after that
are flexible.  But at the moment it looks like we may be back in Pasadena
for a while.  Long term you have to plan for a transfer back to the UK
starting in September.  Start looking for a suitable property in north
Wiltshire, close to the M4, at least six bedrooms, an indoor pool would be
good.  You'll need a list of possibilities with full details before we
transfer back to the States.'
  'Sure.  Got it,' said Mark, making notes.
  'You'll need to liaise with a Mrs Felicia Fuentas, the staff housekeeper,
in Pasadena.  Here are her contact details.  Also, while she's still here,
you need a long meeting with Sylvia, who you're replacing as Andy's PA.'
  'Jenna, you and me are off to Britain on Wednesday with Matthew White
...'
  'The boyfriend?  The male model?'
  '... that's the guy.  We have a job to organise when we're there.  More
of that later.  Now I'll give you the guided tour.'
  Terry walked them round the house indoors, and then walked them round the
gardens.  Mark was taken with the works of art on display, while Terry
noticed that Jenna was sizing up each entrance and corridor with a more
professional eye.  As they passed the edge of the woods, she stopped and
narrowed her gaze.
  'Y'know, I'd swear I saw a boy in there, barechested, bare-arsed even.'
  'Doubt it, Jenna.  The only kid in the house is Master Peter Peacher.
He's otherwise accounted for.' They moved on, but as the others preceded
him Terry waved cheerfully at the woods and was rewarded by the glimpse of
the aggressively erect finger and infuriated glare of a naked
fourteen-year-old boy from the bushes.
  Before four he saw his staff up to the comm centre, and scooted rapidly
out into the woods.  It was cool now and the sun was getting lower.  He
followed the path and sat down where he and Ramon had screwed earlier.  In
a few minutes, a naked, slightly scratched and rather contrite boy with
dusty feet came and sat next to him.  Terry sized him up, returning the
favour Peter had done him earlier.
  The boy opened his legs wide and reached under his thighs with his hands
to push up his penis with his scrotum, 'Waddya think?'  He was perfectly
wanton and maybe was hoping for a sexual response.  And Terry had to put a
brake on himself, his penis was enlarging.  It was quite happy with the
idea of forcing those small white buttocks apart and pushing into the tight
little pink anus they concealed.  But Peter Peacher was only a kid.
  'A real cute cock, Pete and a fair amount of hair.  You're big already
for a boy your age.  No word of a lie, you're a real looker, apart from the
goosebumps.'  Terry put his jacket round the boy, who pulled it close round
him. 'Learned your lesson?'
  'Yeah.  Don't underestimate the ruthlessness of a Latino boy.'
  The bushes moved and a smiling Ramon appeared with a bundle of clothes.
  'Here you go, Pete.  No underwear, of course, cos you weren't wearing
any.'  This time it was Peter's turn to blush.  He dressed in record time.
  'Sorry guys.  I got carried away.  Friends still?'
  'Friends.  Was it exciting playing Tarzan?'
  'Was a bit sexy actually, I had to jerk off twice cos my cock wouldn't go
down; it kept getting stroked erect by leaves and branches rubbing across
it. It was like being touched up all the time.  Mostly I hid under bushes.
Still, I did some sunbathing in a sheltered clearing.  I won't stalk you
again, I promise.'
  'Good.'
  'Next time I'll use electronic surveillance.'

They walked back to the house together.  Apparently Pete's three hour
absence had not been noticed, which said something about the efficiency of
the domestic security detail.
  Mark and Jenna were back in the hall.  He asked how it'd gone.  Mark was
more forthcoming, as seemed usual.
  'Really nice guy, very kind and concerned.  You'd never know he was gay.'
  'Mark,' said Jenna, 'Have you asked Terry whether he's gay?'
  'What? ... oh my God!  Are you?'
  'Yes, as it happens.'  Mark's lower jaw sagged, 'Well spotted Jenna, or
did you do your research before you came here?'
  'Yes I did, but once you know, the signs are all there. You don't hide
it.'
  'Is it a problem, Mark?'
  'I feel an idiot.'
  'That's my line ... and I didn't touch you' Terry grinned.  Even Jenna
smirked.  Mark covered his face with his hands theatrically, but came up
smiling.  They went to Terry's room and Terry opened a bottle of M Cirier's
best Bordeaux, and they started the long process of getting to know each
other.  Terry was happy enough with his nascent team.  Jenna was not
without a sense of humour although she didn't find it easy to loosen up.
Mark was bright but still maybe a little immature: odd that Terry should
make that judgement.  They seemed to get on fairly well.  Time would tell.
  'You were going to brief me about Wednesday,' Jenna asked, as she was
leaving.
  'Pencil two hours after ten o'clock in your diary tomorrow.'
  'The whole thing sounds complicated.'
  'It is.'  Ramon joined Terry as soon as he could.  They mutually
masturbated each other, and licked up the results.  Terry was getting
enthusiastic about his lover's cum, salty and sweet together like all the
other many brands of semen he had swallowed, but with a strange smoky tang
unique to Ramon.  He suggested that Ramon should send him a bottle of it
every week while they were separated.  Ramon mounted him again as soon as
they were awake.  'This is our last day's fucking, lover.'
  'How's your arse, babe?'
  'No blood on this morning's tampon.'
  'Fantastic.  Take as long as you can.  I'm free till ten, and it's only
eight thirty.'  They still found time to enjoy a half hour in the bathroom.
There were no signs of the others.  Terry caught sight of Jenna jogging the
perimeter of the Domaine through the back window as he was dressing.
  He checked that Mark was at work in the comm centre, where he found him
liaising off his own bat with Sylvia.  Terry felt like patting him on the
head.  Jenna was waiting outside and they strolled off through the grounds.
They sat down near the fountain on a bench.  The morning was cool with high
cloud, but not too breezy.
  'So Terry, tell me why you are wearing a shoulder holster.'
  'Are there any ways of making it less obvious?'
  'I can show you a few.'
  'In answer to your question, Jenna, there is a situation within the
Peacher family which may be about to go into meltdown, and that within a
few weeks.  The family and its friends, certain of its friends, are in
danger.  The house here was robbed only last week, and there are specific
threats against Andy and Matt, but more urgently against their associate in
England, a guy called Paul Oscott.'
  'And you too, I think,' suggested Jenna.
  'I'm getting a little pissed off with your mind-reading abilities, Jenna.
If I'd wanted that I'd have been straight and got married to an intelligent
woman.  But, go on, tell me how you know.'
  'Terry, you are tense.  You seem a cool sort of man, but you're very
edgy.  A guy like you only gets edgy under severe stress.  Someone's out to
get you too.'
  'You're right, and he nearly got me last week.  His name is Mike Anson.'
  'Aah.'
  'You know him?'
  'Everyone in my line does.  He's the best in his squalid specialism.  He
likes inflicting pain on people, and is a specialist in interrogation
through torture.  He got cashiered for doing unspeakable things to some
teenage boys in Kabul, things you wouldn't do to a dog.  The only thing
that saved him from military prison was his links with the CIA.
Enterprising man though.  He's gone commercial and has a perfectly
respectable business in surveillance.  But rumour has it he keeps his old
skills up and uses them for the right price; the right price being very
high indeed.  Someone must hate you quite a lot.'
  'Yes, someone does.'
  'And who would that be?'
  'Can't tell you yet, and it isn't really relevant.  We have to protect
Paul Oscott, and you have to protect me.'
  'What about Andy Peacher?'
  'I think he's safe enough here in the present state of alert.'
  'And Matt White?'
  'We don't think he's under immediate threat.'
  'He will be if he's with you, Terry.'
  'Can you get weapons into England?'
  'Oh yes.  If you want.  I can get that one back for you, providing we
take the ferry.  I assume that you don't have a permit for it?'
  'Skipped me mind.  And I'm used to it.  I'd like to stick with it.'
  'Then tell me the car we're using, and I'll arrange it.'
  'What?  As simple as that?
  'Not quite, but during the present emergency, it's the lesser of two
evils.'
  'We leave at twelve tomorrow.  The ferry crossing is from St-Malo at four
thirty.  We spend the night in Portsmouth and move on from there.'
  'I'll be ready tomorrow.  Fill me in on the details of this Paul Oscott.'
Jenna asked.  Who better? thought Terry.  He went into great detail.  It
impressed Jenna that he had not looked at any notes.
  He packed that afternoon, with Ramon helping.  They got naked and lay
together for much of that evening, spending long stretches of time sucking
and masturbating, but delaying ejaculation as long as they could.
Eventually, Terry pulsed and spurted up over them both.  Ramon licked up
the cum, and Terry then knelt up over him, looking down intently on the
dark pretty face of the boy as he reached under and impaled himself on his
cock.  He rode Ramon for a good quarter of an hour, pausing to kiss
passionately, until the heaving of the boy's body and the slickness and
stickiness in his rectum told him Ramon had come.
  They lay unspeaking until Ramon said in a quiet voice, 'Terry, I won't
see you again for three months, maybe more.  I know you'll miss me bad and
I know you really do love me.  The thing is this.  I know you're different
from me.  I know that you've been with lots of men.  I'll wait patiently
till I see you again, but with you sex is different.  Terry, if you see a
guy you want sex with, don't resist if you can't.  You're not meant by
nature to be celibate.  That cock of yours can't keep to itself, but I know
it's me you love, I know that you'll be responsible with protection and
that you'll be faithful to me in your own way.'
  'Babe,' Terry said thoughtfully, 'When I'm with you, you're all I want.
I don't know what will happen when we're apart.  I've never felt about
anyone the way I feel about you ... there was once a boy I really did feel
for, but unlike you, he didn't love me back, so this is new territory for
Terry's cock.  I think that the disappointment there pushed me towards sex
for its own sake.  Maybe you've changed me.  I don't know, but I'm glad you
spoke up.  And hey!  If there's some gorgeous jock in your new high school
that makes it clear he'd like to fool around, don't resist the moment.'
  'Tomorrow's going to be bad, lover.'