Burnham-on-Sea

After we'd talked about it and I'd admitted that I was, in all probability, equally to blame for us ending up getting a little over-familiar on the previous evening, Simon smirked and said, "So what about the 'some other time'?"

"What about the what?"

He kept smiling cheekily. "You said we might continue 'some other time'. I just wondered if we could narrow the timescale down a little?"

I laughed, then said nothing, and Simon took the hint and left it there.

In fact, the 'some other time' turned out to happen that October, when the two of us met up during half term from Uni.

My older brother Tom had bought a new car and said I could use his old one while he found a buyer for it. One evening, I drove up to Burnham to pick Simon up and we headed up towards Brean to make a change from the usual Burnham pubs and takeaways.

I parked the car at the quiet end of the beach and we sat in it, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon far out at sea and feeling the evening breeze growing suddenly chilly.

Simon was talking about some guy at University whom he thought might be gay but wasn't sure.

I asked him what made him think the guy might be.

"Well, he's had girlfriends and stuff but this guy from the theatre group reckons he slept with him one night after they met in one of the gay clubs."

"I suppose he could swing both ways..."

Simon shook his head. "Most guys go one way or the other, don't they? I mean, you couldn't see yourself having sex with a guy, could you?"

I smiled back. I'd given this a lot of thought in the months since I'd been dimly aware of Simon's mouth around my cock. I said, "I dunno... I suppose, on a purely physical level, I could enjoy sex with a guy. If there were no emotional complications to it..."

He turned to stare at me. "Have you ever done that?"

I laughed. "Ooh, let me see... there was this one night when a guy sucked me off under a sheet at a party..."

He laughed back. "But you were too drunk to know whether you enjoyed that or not..."

"Actually, I can remember how it felt. I mean, I can't remember how we got into that situation in the first place, but I remember the warm, wet sensation of it..."

There was a short pause and then he said, "And did it feel good?"

I chuckled. "Of course it did. It was a blow job, wasn't it?"

"Better than a blow job a girl would give you?"

I knew where this was leading and briefly considered my options. After a few seconds I decided to go down the path I'd mentally prepared myself for were this conversation ever to arise. "I dunno... different I guess. I can't really remember anything about your technique. I'd need more experience of it before I could form an opinion..."

He hesitated again, clearly surprised by my implicit invitation. "Do you want me to have another try?"

I turned and smiled at him. "Yeah. As long as we both agree that we stay mates afterwards. And that if one of us decides it isn't working - you or me - we stop and just forget it..."

He looked serious and nodded.

I smiled more broadly and nodded back. "Okay, then. If you'd be up for it..."

He smiled back, a little tentatively. His voice became almost a whisper. "Of course I would be, Ollie. You know that... Just don't, like, hate me after this..."

"Come on, Simon. I could never hate you. You know that."

I unzipped my jacket and gestured to him that he had access to my jeans and the contents of them. He leant over me immediately and clumsily unbuckled my belt. Then he unzipped my jeans and tried to pull them down a little. I bucked my hips upwards to help him, almost ramming my crotch into his face. He laughed, "Easy, tiger," and kept on undressing my lower half.

My briefs were already tenting upwards with my cock making a six inch ridge in the light grey material.

He looked up at me and smiled. "You really want this..."

I shrugged. "It's been a while..."

He slowly pulled down my briefs as if savouring a moment he'd fantasised about for a long time. My cock sprang upwards when released from them, and my balls flopped out into the crease between my thighs. He wrapped his fingers around my length and hesitantly withdrew my foreskin from the pale pink head. His fingers felt cold and his touch was apprehensive.

I whispered, "Don't worry about hurting me. You can be as rough as you like with it..."

He looked up at me, a little uncertain, and then understood what I meant. "It's not that I'm afraid of hurting you, Ollie. It's just that I'm afraid of fucking this up..."

I smiled at him. "There aren't any signs of that, so far..."

He smiled back, although his eyes showed only minimal signs of reassurance, and then returned to the matter of pulling my briefs down to my knees.

At first he just masturbated me, slowly and methodically; like he was following instructions from a manual. It felt quite pleasant but I knew I was starting to lose my erection because his fingers were so cold.

He asked, "How does that feel?"

I replied, "It's okay, but I'd prefer something a bit warmer and wetter..."

He nodded and lowered his mouth to my cock. For about ten seconds, he just stared at it. In fact, he seemed so cautious about taking me into him that I wondered if maybe the actual prospect of my cock in front of him was not quite as appetising as he'd anticipated.

Then he looked up at me and said, "Look, if I accidentally bite it, tell me, okay?"

I shrugged. "What's the problem?"

He said, "The last guy I was with - the guy who, basically, shagged me for couple of weeks - said I use my teeth too much."

"Well, if you do, I'll let you know. See me as a crash test dummy, mate. I'll let you know what works and what doesn't. Try whatever you want to..."

He smiled and then returned to my cock, licking the pink helmet at first and then gently taking as much of it as he could into his mouth.

I groaned, "Actually, that feels really good..."