By now we were both rock-hard and oozing precome. "Are you ready?" he whispered to me. I nodded and he began to unwrap a condom and unroll it over his rampant dick. I lay back and spread my legs wide open and he squeezed a large dollop of lubricant gel on to his fingers, and inserted first one, then two, and finally three fingers through the sphincter ring, stretching it gently. I squirmed a little when the first finger went in. When he pushed two fingers in, it got a little easier and he was able to stretch me somewhat by pulling his two fingers apart. The third entry with three fingers became again a little uncomfortable, but again he helped to stretch the muscle and mitigate any pain that I might have. I marvelled at how he seemed to know exactly what to do. In no way did he do anything upsetting or unpleasant. Then he spread lube over the condom on his dick.
When he had me well lubed up, Tom said, "I think the first time I had better do it in the doggie position." Accordingly I climbed off the bed and stood beside it with my arse in the air. "Please, Luke, tell me if you feel any pain and I will stop immediately." He gently inserted his well lubricated rubber-covered projection between the cheeks of my arse and began to push gently but firmly. After what seemed eternity he pushed through the sphincter and I felt a considerable degree of discomfort as he entered my gut. "Just relax," he said, "it won't, I hope, hurt any more." He rested inside me for a minute or two and I found that the discomfort had worn off, and that the presence of this large object inside me was not unpleasant.
"Okay, stud-boy" I said "you're in, and it doesn't hurt any more, so feel free to get going with your buggery." He enwrapped my body with his arms, folding them over my belly and he began to fuck me. The lubricant was extraordinarily effective and he slid in and out of my back passage with considerable ease, taking care not to slip right out. I now felt Tom sweating with exertion and the sweat was dripping from his chest and armpits over my back and down my arms. It felt delicious. The whole operation of course was prolonged because of the fact that neither of us had very much seed inside us. We were pretty well dry after four days of frequent sexual activity. Eventually, though, Tom speeded up and with a loud cry came violently into the prophylactic inside me. He immediately started kissing my shoulders and spine, and as his cock softened and began to slip out of my hole, his kisses moved progressively down my back.
When he was fully out, he lifted me bodily back on to the bed and slipped the condom off his dick. "Tie it in a knot so that it doesn't leak, we've got to keep the sheets clean," I said. He obeyed and hopped on the bed beside me and began to kiss my mouth. I rolled over on top of him and started to kiss him in return, before starting to rub my rock-hard dick against his hairy belly. He put his arms round my hips and clamped his hands one on top of each of my buttocks as I continued to rub his belly with my prick. After a delicious few minutes, I came and shot my small cargo of fuck-juice on his belly, kissing him violently as I did so. I lay there for some time, feeling secure in his warm and loving embrace. I then rolled off him and lay on my back breathless beside him. "My darling Tom, you're so good to me. I'm so glad that I am yours. You're everything that a man could want! You're as good in the bedroom as you are in the kitchen!"
"Luke, you're exaggerating! You've got a lot more talent than me. And you find it easy to get on with people, and I don't. Even if I had had your parents and upbringing, I would still have been a nerd."
"You've learnt to cope with rejection and hardship, whereas I have had an easy and comfortable upbringing. Still we have one thing in common, and maybe that's the bond that unites us: we both have no mother. But how did you learn to fuck like that? I can't believe that you've never done it before! You were absolutely brilliant!"
"It's only what I read on the internet. No-one has ever wanted to do it to me or with me!"
"But most men when fucking only think about themselves, and you were thinking of me all the time, I know that, even though I couldn't see your face."
"Yes, next time I'll fuck you lying your back and then we can see each other. But doggie-style is the easiest to get in and unlock the treasure-house. Thank you for being such a sweet bottom. I hope there are going to be a lot more next times!"
I gave him a final kiss, climbed off the bed and got a flannel from the bathroom. I cleaned up our bellies and disposed of the condom, wiped us both with a towel and said, "A drink is called for: Prosecco or White Shield?" I have mentioned White Shield before. It is a beer brand that had been through a bad phase, having been brewed by several breweries who did not have the skills to produce a quality product, but at the time of this story its brewing had returned to its home town of Burton-on-Trent, and it was now fast recovering its iconic status as a flagship bottle-conditioned beer.
"We'd better have Prosecco" said Tom, "I love White Shield but it always makes me fart H2S the next day, and I don't want to stink the bed out!"
"It's the yeast reducing the sulfate in the hard Burton water," I explained. "As a chemist, you should know all about that, even though sixth-formers are no longer allowed to work with H2S."
We always kept a bottle of Prosecco in the refrigerator, so I went and fetched it, opened it and poured us two glasses. Tom sipped his wine and started reading 'Sodom.' Half an hour later, the doorbell rang from the street level door. I went to the door-telephone and answered it "Ask the delivery man to wait a couple of minutes," said Tom "while I come down and get it. I've ordered us a special meal to celebrate your loss of virginity!" Tom put his tracksuit trousers and top on and went down in the lift to collect the delivery. It was a large cardboard box. The box contained some precooked scallops, sweet and sour pork with rice, a salad, tiramisu, a pre-chilled bottle of QmP Mosel wine and a packet of coffee mints.
"Tom, you're a thoughtful genius!" I said. "It would have been totally inappropriate to go to the pub after the experience that you have just given me. We need to be alone together for the rest of he day."
"These things just need heating in the microwave," he said, "so let's get dressed and tuck in. If you're feeling lazy, I can feed you!"
What I was beginning to think of as 'our' bedroom was spacious enough to have a table in it, so I laid it for our meal and opened the wine as soon as we had finished our Prosecco. Tom came in, still naked, as I was, carrying the dishes with the scallops. "I would love it if you could feed me with the first course," I said, "but then I can eat the rest on my own!" Tom cut each of the scallops into small pieces and fed them to me one at a time, pausing from time to time to eat one himself. "This is the ultimate in erotic decadence!" I exclaimed with a grin, "It makes me feel like Cleopatra or Lucrezia Borgia! You are so sweet to me!"
"You deserve it after letting me commit the foulest of unnatural acts on your helpless body!" he replied, joining in the spirit of repartee. We both giggled. Then we pulled on our underpants and T-shirts and sat up at the table to enjoy the rest of the meal.
I found it difficult to analyse the basis of my attraction to Tom. Apart from being more muscular and less skinny, there was little about his body or face or hair to distinguish him from any other healthy young man of eighteen. It was not because of his home conditions making me feel sorry for him, because he had not revealed those to me until after I had fallen for him. It was the way that he looked at me and the way that he held me that made me feel as if there was an indissoluble bond between us. And it was a constant thrill to be finding out new things about this reticent, secretive boy. And he wanted me SO much. Not only that, but he needed me. Without me he could quite easily do something stupid, like leaving Camford. He desperately needed a good exam performance, pitting himself against the brainiest nineteen-year-old chemists in England, Etonians, Manchester Grammarians, the cream of the private education system. If my company and my body could bring him comfortably through the exam ordeal, he could cruise the next three years to a first, a Masters and a Ph.D. Pop assured me that the talent was there, Tom just needed to discover it for himself.