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Chapter 6

By Hannah May 2006

Brass and leather held tight together, come apart in his hands.
It's strange, he thinks, that he's never done this to a boy, before. So much of everything is new to him. Counts the odd little instances that make up his (patchy) sexual experience pretty cool, actually. Not lacking at all.
Just not as good in some areas as others….
Quite likes these things, really….like the fact that he's kissed teachers, girls and boys, managed sex with a fair few girls in his time, had sex with a boy, (alright, never given one a blowjob before, but that seems about to be remedied, if you ask him) had sex with a forty-five year-old woman, (she was fucking pretty, so who really cares about ages, now?) managed to get a really fit stripper in London to suck him off the other week, had blowjobs from two blokes before, probably a bunch of other encounters too that he was too wasted to remember afterwards (probably didn't manage to improve his prowess too much then, aye?) and he's knocking eighteen years old in three months…'s all good.

He isn't going to be nervous or un-cool about any of this.
And besides, that would be stupid and immature, considering that he's managed to make Carl pretty happy anyway, just by shoving his dick up his arse on a few occasions now, so why is he bloody worrying that sucking his cock isn't going to make him just as happy?

'Because you'll be rubbish……?'

All the girls he's gone down on have said he was alright….maybe he'd be feeling more confident now if they'd used adjectives a bit more like "amazing" and "wow"….
But he doesn't really give a fuck. He's pretty confident anyway, and if Carl doesn't like it, then he can get it from someone who's better, instead. He doesn't do insecurity and low self-esteem. That can be Carl's thing.

Swallowing again, lightly, he leans in, pulling Carl's zip down, arousal eating away at his thoughts, hoping, really fucking hoping that Carl will enjoy this, because he knows that he will and it would be sort of pointless if Carl himself, didn't.

Placing a hand either side of Carl's hips, he settles him back on the bed, underneath Pete's slight weight (just about manages to not make any lewd remarks about this being the best position for Carl to be in, always, always, forever and ever) and straddles Carl's hips, pulling his jeans down slightly, just enough to expose the desperate-looking tent in his poor, abused boxers.

And Carl's sighing cat-like and submissive under him, as he cups him through the very thin material, fingering the twitching, masculine heat he can feel under it…
He glances back at Carl's face, which shouldn't be so distracting, but is. His neck's all arched up, mouth tense where it's fighting not to just give some sort of order out loud, and his eyes are enormous, black spheres of want…….
although disappointedly, Pete reflects that might be more to do with all the speed last night, the pills, whatever crap it was that they were cut with…but he's certain Carl's pupils didn't seem nearly as big when they woke up…

Carl's eyes meet his, and it takes Pete a lot of self-control not to just lean down and snog him for a good ten minutes more, tongue's not listening to the orders his mind's giving it however, sneaking out to wet his lower lip sub-consciously.
Carl sees this though, and there's a little hitch in his breath, as his hand strays from his hip and begins to touch himself where Pete's hand momentarily forgot to.

Sin and beauty, he thinks have never gone together so well,
as he watches Carl's eyes drift closed, mouth open and just begging for fucking, bruising kisses, touching, anything ….Pete hurriedly brushes Carl's fingers away, snags the boxer material in his hands, and pulls them as far down as the jeans.

Shuffling some more, until he's down between Carl's legs,
he leans closer in, and slightly uncertainly, licks at the head of Carl's cock, which earns him a muttered "fuck…" and an upward thrust from his hips.
Mentally adding an amused "me" in his head to Carl's sentiment, he shifts a little to take more of Carl into his mouth, sucking every bit of skin inside it, as Carl's hand re-settles at the back of his head again.

A chill seems to have taken hold of Carl, Pete thinks innocently….violent shivering every time that Pete takes him back inside his mouth, thinking that it probably has a lot to do with the way Carl's eyes roll upward, every time he sees himself disappear into Pete's mouth.

The hand at the back of his head has started twisting rougher, more predatory in his hair, pleasured little moans and hisses streaming from Carl's mouth at regular intervals, as Pete sucks harder and harder, and Pete's really beginning to think he could come just from this;
The image of Carl spread out, prone and aching under him beats behind his eyes when they flutter shut, Carl starting up a guttural sort of groaning and grinding upwards frantically, when Pete's tongue laps curiously at the vein running up under Carl's cock, his thrusts growing more and more erratic...

and Pete can't help it, has to unbutton his own jeans, slip a hand inside, and to hell with trying to give a good blowjob for the first time, he's sure Carl's enjoying this just as much as he is now, and he's so fucking close, so very close, Carl's almost swimming out of focus,
and he hears hitching breaths stuttering heavily out of that mouth over a panted "Pete, fuck…Pete! I-" before he feels hot wet burn down his throat, feels Carl's hips jump one last time,
and it's all too much for him, the hand raking his hair deliriously, the taste of Carl, so male and hot in his mouth, that he comes with so few strokes to his own cock, that it's almost embarrassing.

Or it would be embarrassing, if he could even bring himself to care about just what embarrassment was right now….could even be bothered to pull his hand out from where his own weight is crushing it somewhat, convinced it can't be too important now, anyway, if he could even be bothered getting his head off Carl's stomach/crotch area at the moment...which, apparently he can't.
Can only press loose lips to the sweaty skin beside them, and wait for his heartbeat to start beating at a reasonable speed again…

Eventually, manages to slip up Carl's thighs, not bothering to pull Carl's jeans up as he goes, collapsing on his shoulder, the black behind his eyes still beating, changing shape with the pounding of his heart….

"Why you not tried that before?"

Ungrateful bastard.

"Ahhh dunno…." He grins lazily, not sure he wants to disclose that this was actually his first time giving head to another boy, not that it matters, and yeah, who's the one not telling everything there is to tell now?

"I mean…fuck…….what were you doing instead?"

Pete looks with great amusement at Carl's indignant, disbelieving face before answering insolently "well, snogging you. Obviously."

And just for emphasis, (probably no other reason, god knows Carl doesn't even deserve it, after THAT) he leans in, pushing his tongue between startled lips, hopes that Carl can taste himself now.

"Among other things…" He adds as an after-thought, sneaks a hand up to tease at Carl's nipple, which of course, sends him sighing and writhing pornographically into the touch again. But Carl's hand has managed to find it's own, independent way into Pete's jeans, causing him to freeze in an instant, like a dear caught in head-lights.

Shit. He really fucking hopes Carl isn't going to mind….isn't going to have some other stupid myriad wounded-pride-complex or something, because Pete got himself off just from sucking him.

He's utterly speechless when instead, Carl just brings that hand back up to his own mouth and sucks the fingers that are wet and glistening with come, and Pete actually finds himself pretty close to spluttering incoherently - which certainly isn't alright, or very dignified either, not in the least, so he just brings his mouth down on Carl's, as hard as he can, totally stunned into kissing.

And eventually wonders just how much trouble he'll be in, if he isn't home by tonight.

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