Ben Halpern and his bit on the side

“Mr. Groves will be with you in just a few minutes,” the young woman assured him and enjoyed his flirtatious smile as she did so.

Ben positioned himself in a corner of the  County Hall reception area so that he could  observe the comings and goings before Oliver saw him. He was not disappointed. Although Ben did not know what it was called, cerebral palsy gave Oliver’s walk a particular gait and movement. This he observed as Oliver, looking every inch the capable young local government officer he was, glanced round the busy reception. The crisp white shirt, the strands of pink in the tie looked good to Ben in ways he had not noticed in another man before now,-. And he certainly would not be mentioning this to his mates in the Dog and Trumpet, though he was very likely to offer his drinking friends a vivid recital of the qualities of the young woman who had been so obviously impressed with his smile.

Suddenly, regret that he was here seized Ben. He was on a hiding to nothing; this was not him. No good would come of it; the whole of the Dog and Trumpet would laugh at him if they knew he was on the sniff for a bloke. Best slip out before Oliver caught sight of him. Oliver turned, so that for a few seconds his back was to Ben. Holding his breath, Ben rose and then sat down again. Ben had always admitted to himself that he appreciated what he called, “a well- turned arse.” As much, he would reveal conversationally to his friends.- Even when he was stone cold sober. This would often elicit brief similar jokey  admissions from his companions, especially after a football match featuring Eastampton County and its ever valiant, but alas always fruitless efforts to  get nearer the Premier League. Within this banter It was the  general consensus that goalie Jack Harris, had the most impressive rear end of the team.

Your arse is beautiful and I want to fuck it. This thought struck Ben with such force that as Oliver turned in his direction and waved in acknowledgement, he was certain that Oliver had actually heard it.

“Thanks for seeing me, Oliver,” he said sounding as calm as he could. “I’ve just  delivered our quote for the Tiptee House rebuild,” he continued as they entered the Costa Coffee Shop in the County Hall. If Oliver noticed the note of what Ben was convinced was lust and nervousness in his voice, he gave no sign. With his girlfriends Ben was quite used to these emotions; but with Oliver so obviously pleased to see him, it was a very different sensation altogether. 

“I can only spare a few minutes, Ben. Apparently the King and Queen of Triesenbourg are coming to Britain on a state visit next  year and he wants to include Eastamptonshire on his itinerary, for some reason.”

“Ah well there are quite a few Fiorentines living here,” said Ben, equally anxious not to waste time. He smiled and wondered if he dare allow their fingers to touch.

“Can we go out together one evening?”
“Of course. We are planning on going for drink this week anyway.”

“No Oliver. I mean..I mean a date. You and me on a date…Together,” he added, as if further clarity were required. He began  gripping his coffee as though his life depended on it.

“So you mean a drink and a fuck at the end of it?,” Oliver grinned in mock solemnity

“Yes…No. Oh Christ. I’ve really fucked up already, haven’t I.”

“Just a bit,” agreed Oliver allowing their hands to meet. “I never shag anybody on a first date,- unless I know it is going to be a one night stand of course.”

“I would ask you to be my boyfriend, Oliver; except that I don’t really know what that means, what with only ever having been a few girls’ boyfriend and all. More than just a fuck, more than just a mate, I reckon. Anyway, will you think about it?”

They both glanced at their watches.

“Look,” continued Ben, “Let me take you out for a meal next Friday. Or if you like we could go to my local, The Dog and Trumpet”

“I’ve thought about,”  Oliver announced, as they parted. “I’ve never been inside The Dog and Trumpet before, so why don’t we take each other there?”

Travelling on the Skelthorpe- Eastampton commuter train to and from work for the next week, he looked out for Ben, hoping desperately to catch a glimpse of him and at the same time hoping that he would not. He began counting the hours and even the minutes to Friday. Each evening he would cycle around Skelthorpe to exercise his legs, pausing as usual to speak to friends and acquaintances. But with each pause he hoped that just at that moment, Ben might be driving by.

His friend Charli  Stansfield  told him that she knew Ben quite well and seemed to approve of him. Of The Dog and Trumpet Charli casually opined that at first acquaintance that the large Victorian pub gave every impression of permanently assisting the police with  their inquiries. But he was not to worry as so far as she knew, it never had.

“Some of the men who support Eastampton County, are total pigs,” she informed Oliver, knowing that her friend knew as much about football as he did about the man on the moon. “But Ben Halpern is not one of them,” she was quick to assure him. Something in Charli’s tone however alerted Oliver to what was coming next. But before Charli had time to offer the unlooked for advice that Ben was one of those straight men, it would be a complete waste of time for any gay man to pursue, Oliver made polite excuses and went on his way.

Gilbert and Ida Groves had two grandsons; three If Simon were included,- as he always was.  Last month the gifts they bestowed on Oliver for his 24th birthday included an apparently special edition of Old Spice aftershave.

“Well youth, it helped me woo your granny in 1962..”

With so high a commendation, Oliver knew he would have to try it soon and make some report as to its efficacy. But not this evening. He reached for his bottle of Aramis. Moving his head slowly  from side to side. with his bathroom mirror assuring him that his carefully groomed blond hair looked good, the young man gingerly dabbed his naked body with  the aftershave and wondered what delights might be in store this evening.

The number 11 bus dropped him on Hawthorne Street about 120 metres from The Dog and Trumpet. The better to take a breath before meeting Ben, he decided as he enjoyed a shudder of anticipation. The anticipation though barely had time to get into its stride. For there was Ben, emerging from the pub’s entrance to meet him.

“Am I allowed to say to another guy you look pretty hot?” Ben’s eyes shone even brighter than the spikey highlights in his brown hair.

“Er..yes,” came the delighted response.” You look pretty sick yourself Ben.”

As they walked to the pub, Oliver felt almost faint with unabashed lust. The way the denim jeans clung to Ben’s legs and accentuated the contours of his arse were joys of the highest estimation. But it was the black bomber jacket, smart and sexy, that really was the finishing touch to Ben’s sex appeal.
“You’re a fuck stud,” he whispered in Ben’s ear.

Ben felt a hand on his arm and concluded that his fears that he might get things all wrong might be misplaced after all. He drew them to a pause.

“They are a good crowd, Oliver. A bit noisy. But a lot are my friends, so if anyone gets up your nose, just tell. me.”

It was only later at the bar when he was explaining to Jane Robinson who Oliver was, that he realised that he had only ever said this to women. He downed a swift whiskey and worried anew if he was saying what was in keeping with his hoped for status as Oliver’s boyfriend.

As they entered The Dog and Trumpet together for the first time, Ben vowed silently to limit his drinking and began introducing Oliver to his friends. Skelthorpe was pretty much a live and let live kind of place. As the evening went on how much this applied to the range of people who drank at The Dog and Trumpet in particular, was an eye opener to an innocent abroad like Oliver. He had never before seen such a spectrum of people, their kinds, sexual preferences,  ethnicities and cultures in one public house in the borough.

“Some of us always knew this would happen boss,” announced Daniel as he joined Ben and Oliver at the large corner table with the extra legroom.

“What?,”  asked Ben noting with a dawning interest how much attention Oliver was paying to his black leather bomber jacket.

Daniel spread his arms expansively seeming to draw the attention of both bars to Ben and Oliver in the doing.

“Why, that some lucky chap would reel you in as his bit on the side.”

Oliver, who had  combined chatting to all who made their way to the corner table with snuggling up to Ben in his impressive  jacket and was increasingly showing every sign that he cared not a bit who  observed this unless and until  Ben objected, looked shaken to his marrow.

“Ben is not my ‘bit the side’,” he shouted angrily, “you prat.”

“But I would be if he wanted,” announced Ben and took a swig of his beer before putting the pint glass to Oliver’s lips.

Thirty minutes later the two of them were in Oliver’s small but comfortable ground floor flat.

Is it alright to kiss you now? Honestly, I’ve only ever fucked a random bloke’s face and had my hole eaten out before he shot his cum on my bum.”

“Only!” repeated Oliver in mock horror, as they drew together in their first kiss. Oliver would have stayed in this embrace forever, certain that however his legs felt, Ben would hold him standing and safe.

“I want us to be  boyfriends” cooed Ben as he proceeded from nibbling Oliver’s left earlobe to attentively pressing his tongue into Oliver’s pretty ear. He of course knew that some girls liked this and to judge by his response, so too did Oliver.

He took Oliver’s face in his hands: “I know your principle about not fucking on a first date, so I’ll call a taxi and go home now, darling Oliver.”

He savoured the words he had never spoken to another man before as if drinking Thorpe and May’s finest bitter.

“But I mean it,” Ben continued, “I want to be your boyfriend. Better still, I want us to be lovers.”

“Would you consider me a total slut, if I said that is what I want too Ben AND asked you to stay the night?”

“No! Never,” came the pained reply, as he opened Oliver’s stylish shirt and kissed the yielded nipples. Oliver led him to his bed and soon he lay in a dizzying mist of desire as Ben had him naked to the waist and was devouring his nipples and neck with a fervour Oliver had not experienced before.

So this is how straight boys do it, thought Oliver.

They kissed passionately, Oliver only resisting the sweet lips and importunate probing tongue the better to  make it even more demanding of him. Here he was laying beneath his new lover who sent shivers through his body even as he caused their kissing and love bites to pause whilst he removed each item of Oliver’s clothing, one by one. Ben hurried to undress himself enjoying the sparkling attention and libidinous encouragement Oliver gave him.

He stood now, naked at the foot of the bed. Nothing else mattered. His rampant manhood wanted to ravage the lovely Oliver, who  lay naked and smiling  before him, cock swaying a hymn of invitation; and as Ben noted with some pride, pleased at the effect he was having on another male, glistening with precum as well. He had always enjoyed the admiring glances of gay men of course, but to see Oliver oozing precum like this was something else.

“Put that bomber jacket back on but don’t zip it up.” growled Oliver. “Fucking beautiful,” he continued as he watched Ben do as he was bidden and turn to offer a rear view. The jacket ended just above Ben’s muscular bum making it even more desirable than ever.

He was going to carefully lay on top of Oliver, covering his first male lover’s body with his own, realising  that as he did so and they kissed with wonton urgency, Oliver would be able run his hands all across his bomber jacket covered back and shoulders to his heart’s content. But first he needed to do something else. He resisted the attempts to pull him into another embrace and in one swift move engulphed Oliver’s rod, swallowing it all and savouring the taste, as he did that expensive wine with his parents at the Eastamptonshire Small Businesses party last year.

For a brief moment Ben recalled the mutual wank and blow job he and Jon Fenton had enjoyed nine years ago. But this was different. His head spun as he went up and down on Oliver’s shaft, enjoying the sight, the taste and feel of it and of Oliver’s untrimmed bush with what was it, a hint of aftershave or something? He squeezed Oliver’s nipples. Gently at first. But then harder with Oliver urging him on. He felt Oliver’s cock pulsate between his lips and in his throat as the  climax gathered itself. A breathy disappointment and delight combined from deep within Oliver as Ben pulled his mouth from Oliver’s cock and grinned wickedly at  him. Before Oliver could speak he was shuddering with pleasure to the feel of Ben’s tongue and lips darting - rather expertly Oliver thought,- in a gavotte between his inner thighs and his full, heavy, balls.

The index and middle fingers of Ben’s right hand pressed at Oliver’s lips demanding to be sucked as Ben continued to blow him nearer to an orgasm. Oliver sucked and it seemed as if Ben was using his digits to fuck his face. Probing moments later Oliver was energetically lifting his back on and off his bed and thrusting his cock in and out of Ben’s so willing mouth. In an earnest rhythm, Ben’s fingers thrust into Oliver’s hole, that blissful spot found and  all afire, driving Oliver on.

His calling Ben’s name and the magical sense of being possessed by the stud in nothing but that black bomber jacket, heralded the  shattering climax that sent Oliver’s cum and passion coursing down his lover’s throat.

In the aftermath, the two glowed happily at each other. Oliver stifled sobs of joy by the happy expedient of burying his face in the inviting fur collar of Ben’s jacket as they lay side by side.

“You are something else,” announced Ben as their kisses spread Oliver’s cum, like an unguent of love, between them. I hope we do have some kind of future Ben thought as his manhood twitched to more immediate imperatives.

A contented silence enveloped Oliver and Ben as they held each other close.

“You are so hot and lovely, Oliver” sighed Ben as a hand delicately held his cock. “Are you tired darling?, he ventured between nibbling at Oliver’s throat.

“Not too tired,” came the coy reply with blush in its train…”But will you keep that jacket on for me, please?”

And of course he would. They each admitted that they had a few condoms to hand in anticipation of need. Ben got off his chest the fact that he was a virgin and “have never fucked a guy before..,” suddenly fearful that he might fail and worse still might hurt his new love. “And your legs..” he added.

“Everything will be fine for us,” soothed Oliver as they drank tea. “And my legs, they will be fine too.”

Ben romantically considered carrying Oliver back into the bedroom. He reckoned he could do it; he had carried Carrie to her bed more than once. But for now he kept the idea to himself and instead gently threw Oliver back on to his own bed.

Ben had never felt so passionate in his life as they kissed again. It felt more than strange to be a man’s man,  in a way that he had never seriously contemplated before meeting Oliver, hardly more than a week ago.

He knew he wanted to be with Oliver. The endearments they shared as they 69’d together would have blown his mind. But his mind seemed to expand to accommodate making love with Oliver Groves as Oliver rimmed him and he simultaneously devoured and tongued fucked the arse he was longing to shag into oblivion.

At some point, Oliver was sucking his lover’s toes causing Ben to curse and slap the gorgeous blonde’ bottom just to distract himself from cumming.

“Oh you sweet bitch,” he declaimed as he pushed Oliver on to his front to savour that arse he so desired. He showered Oliver’s neck and back with yet more kisses, each gesture and response from Oliver an aphrodisiac in itself.

“Planet of the Apes style legs,” he complimented, telling Oliver that their covering of dark blond hairs was “Ace.”

The delights of parting Oliver’s arse, eventually redirected the devotion he was bestowing upon it and Oliver shamelessly enjoying.  Oliver’s hole seemed to wink at Ben as he became utterly entranced by it.  He had intended to be facing Oliver as he fucked him; to tell Oliver how much he loved him; for at this moment he most assuredly loved Oliver. But that sweet manhole held Ben in its thrall. He sniffed and then deeply inhaled. Once. Twice. He lost count. His head spun to the intoxicant that was the beloved Oliver’s so shaggable arse. There and then Ben would have given up his soul  as listened to profanities and endearments from an almost delirious Oliver.

For his part, Ben was not so far gone in his desires that he forgot the condom, or lubricant, or that he was careless of his Oliver. He had never felt so male. His cock in its adamantine need to be inside Oliver was made to enter with care and to Ben’s word’s of desire and appreciation for Oliver. What Ben knew; what he guessed; or what his gay friends had told him, nothing had prepared him for  what he now felt at the pleasure of being inside another male.

“O Christ on a bike Oliver,” he called out. His whole body now covered Oliver’s back. Oliver turned his head as they kissed and Ben’s hips pistoned his lust and need deep, again and again into Oliver’s fundament.

“Harder! Harder my studly Ben,” whispered a panting Oliver who detected a note of caution and in his new man’s excursions.

“You won’t hurt me, my love. Breed me Ben. Make me pregnant.”

With these injunctions ringing in his head and Oliver’s kisses, Ben’s mind exploded with his cock as he drove  what seemed  to be uncountable quantities of his thick hot spunk into Oliver.

“Oh Oli..Oli..Oliver, your arse is mine now ” he cried as he and his orgasm at last subsided into a very contented Oliver.

Oliver sobbed in happiness. He pulled Ben closer. Mutual words of love and appreciation turned Ben into a shaking, tingling jelly of a kind, as wept in Oliver’s arms.

Oliver knew how important, how emotional a first fuck could be. Especially at in its immediate aftermath. He held and soothed Ben.

“It isn’t just your arse I want,” he gently assured Oliver later as they fell asleep, entwined in each other’s arms.

The next morning being Saturday, Ben Halpern should of course have been busily about the family business, fulfilling jobs allocated to him by his father. Instead he was crowded into a shower hardly big enough for one as he and Oliver enjoyed each other beneath the spray of  warm water together. Ben had recovered from the emotional shock of his first gay shag. Only the fucking delight of being with Oliver remained as he was led by the hand into living room with its contrast of modern spare décor and a deep, old fashioned carpet.

“Are you sure?” The voice was clearly concerned, but the handsome features and the impressive cock only fortified Ben in his reply.

“You bet I am,” he answered.  They hugged each other with an intensity that required Ben to keep Oliver from falling down.    

In the headquarters of C Division of the Eastamptionshire Constabulary, Inspector Ashvi Battra listened carefully as her most junior, but very capable constable, gave her report.  

Ben knelt into the deep pile carpet. He paused a short while to pay homage to Oliver’s pendulous manhood and heavy balls and then held Oliver as he too descended into the living room carpet.

The constable had quietly blended in. Last night she met her friend in The Dog and Trumpet. The two chatted as friends do and enjoyed modest quantities of Thorpe and May’s bitter during in the course of the evening. It wasn’t officially undercover work. But that is what it was in all but name. Besides, it was useful training for Inspector Battra’s bright young constable. The bright young constable began her detailed account of what she saw and heard.

In Oliver’s flat the lovers frolicked, Ben not caring that the old fashioned deep pile carpet irritated his bum. He cared somewhat more that he should right now be doing valuable work in Grangeford. But that dull place was not blessed with the presence of Oliver.

“I really will be gentle,” he assured Oliver as he lay on his side behind Ben. Spooned now, Oliver knew as ever, why this was his favourite position to top. It was even more enjoyable because of the hot manhandling and fucking Ben had given him last night. He still felt as though Ben’s rod  was shafting his hole. Now he was about to hump Ben. To take Ben’s Cherry.

He growled conquest into Ben’s ear. The more so because  he knew that the first penetration of that arse would be painful to some degree, however much Ben wanted it.

Oliver thrust carefully and deeply into his man. Every sensual part of Ben  was his for the taking. He stifled Ben’s valiant cries with  kisses and called him the most gorgeous slut stud in the world. Lest there be any doubting his devotion as he topped Ben, his climax drawing closer, he gripped Ben’s oozing shaft and very nearly synchronised wanking him to the point that his cock thrust spunk deep into Ben’s hole at the same as time Ben shot his load across the living room.

“One final thing Ma’am,” said the bright young constable. “The one some of them call, ‘The Boss’ -You know Ben Halpern?”

The Inspector nodded, once more all attention.

“Well, it would seem that Halpern is on the turn, so to speak. Suddenly he has a boyfriend, with a thing for bomber jackets if I’m any judge… And that boyfriend is none other than the son of Mr. Ray Groves, the Leader of Eastamptonshire County Council.”