Justin reached the familiar silhouette of the oak, its branches stark against the sky. His hand drifted instinctively towards his cock, ready to chase that solitary peak after the most amazing time with Richard. Justin even smiled, enjoying the idea that he wasn't a virgin anymore.
Then a voice sliced through the quiet moment he was enjoying, sharp and incredulous.
"Justin?"
Justin froze, his blood turning to ice as he broke from his private thoughts. Standing just beyond the shadow of the oak, arms crossed, face pale and twisted with disbelief under the moonlight, was his younger brother, Liam, in his traditional and boring pyjamas.
"What the fuck, Justin?" Liam hissed, his voice trembling with shock and fury.
Liam took a step closer, his gaze raking over Justin's nakedness, "I saw you walking across the field... naked... from Miller's cottage? Were you... With him all this time?"
Justin stepped backwards, crashing against the rough bark of the oak tree. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. Shame, panic, and a fierce defensive instinct warred within him. "Liam! Shit! What are you doing out here?"
"I couldn't sleep!" Liam spat, his voice cracking. “I came out for some fresh air and saw someone walking naked from his place. Thought it was some drunk idiot... but it was you!"
His eyes narrowed, “God, Justin! You smell of...."
Justin pushed off the rough bark, forcing himself upright despite the trembling in his legs. Shame burned his cheeks, hotter than Richard's touch. "Liam, listen..." he started, his voice hoarse.
Liam cut him off, stepping closer, his face a mask of horrified disbelief. "Listen? You're naked, and smell of... stuff... coming from Richard Shaw's place! What the hell were you doing?”
"I asked him to teach me about being gay. He was great and took me in hand. He fucked me twice. I fuck him once. I shot my load four times, and I got to give him a golden shower. What else do you want to know?
Liam recoiled as if physically struck. “You... you let...?" Liam choked out, voice strangled. "I know we talked about your desires and feelings, but I didn't think you planned to do anything. I thought it was all talk....Can I ask, what was it like?
Justin squared his shoulders, the defiance brittle but real. "It was... intense. Really intense and painful at first, then... overwhelming. Like being claimed," as he gestured vaguely towards his thighs. "He came inside me. Twice." The crude honesty hung in the air, stark and undeniable. "I came on his face, and I also got to piss on him."
Liam stared, unable to say a word as his hand realigned the front of his pyjamas.
"You... you actually...?" He swallowed hard, his gaze darting from Justin’s face to the slickness on his thighs, then back to the distant cottage light while his hand made another involuntary move to hide his arousal.
Justin leaned against the oak’s rough bark, exhaustion warring with defiance. "Come on, Liam. Don’t tell me you don’t wank thinking of boys. It’s natural. I just did something about it and really enjoyed it. Wanking doesn't even come close to what I experienced."
Liam hesitated. "Well, of course I wank. You've seen me, and we've also done it together," he muttered, kicking a clod of dirt. "But I haven’t even thought about... doing anything. Not like that." His cheeks flushed crimson under the moon’s glare. "With a man. An old man," as he stared at Justin’s thighs. "You said it hurt at first. How come?"
"Liam, having a man's cock inside is an invasion you have to get used to, but he was tender, and each time he fucked me, it became even more special every time I climaxed. I really enjoyed it when he sucked me off under this tree by the way."
Liam’s breath caught more from curiosity than shock, his thin pyjama bottoms straining against a sudden, undeniable rigidity beneath the cotton fabric.
He shifted his weight, trying to mask the betraying arousal with a casual turn of his hips, but Justin’s sharp eyes caught the movement. A slow, knowing smirk spread across Justin’s lips.
"Your cock is betraying your outrage and curiosity, Liam. If I didn't know better, I would say you are turned on by this conversation and the secret desires I have shared with you, bro."
Liam froze, his hand instinctively pressing harder against the straining fabric. "Shut up," he mumbled, voice thick. "That's... that's not..."
Justin stepped forward, closing the gap between them under the oak's shadow. "You're 16 now and what, wanking two or three times a day. Perhaps, I can share a little something so you understand what might come your way....one day?"
The scent of sex and sweat clung to him, sharp and undeniable. His fingers, still slick with Richard's lube, found the top button of Liam's thin pyjama top. "See?" Justin murmured, popping the first plastic button. "Your body knows what it wants," as the second button gave way. "Even if you don't," as the third button on his pyjama top popped.
Liam stood paralysed, his breath shallow, unable to yell “stop” to his elder brother.
Justin pushed the pyjama top open, exposing Liam's smooth chest to the cool night air. Goosebumps erupted instantly as Justin twisted Liam's nipples playfully. "What does that feel like, Liam?"
"It feels totally...." Liam replied. "Fuck, it's...."
"Tell me to stop Liam, and I will. Just one simple word, that's all you have to say, before I slip that top off."
Liam failed to respond, and Justin took his silence as consent to continue, pushing his brother's pyjama top off.
Naked from the waist up, Justin admired his brother's body and, for the first time, he was allowed to touch his almost hairless chest in an arousing manner that he knew would cause his brother to respond even more. Again, he played with his nipples, but then his fingers explored his stomach down to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms.
"It's not too late to stop me," Justin said as his gaze dropped lower, seeing his brother cock tenting the cotton of his pyjama bottoms.
With no reply from Liam, Justin continued with one trembling finger, hooking the waistband of Liam’s pyjama bottoms, finding the top button just above a straining erection hidden underneath, suggesting that Liam really wanted the attention.
Justin hesitated for a moment. "Can I? Do you want me to continue?"
"Yes, and don't stop," Liam finally responded.
Justin smiled as the plastic button holding the pyjama bottoms together popped free from the hole. With the top of his bottoms curled open, the second button followed.
Liam sucked in a sharp breath as the worn cotton fabric slid down his hips, pooling heavily around his ankles on the damp grass. His erection sprang free, thick and flushed against his pale thigh.
Justin’s smirk deepened. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur against Liam’s ear. "Want to feel what I felt?"
With no answer, Justin's hand, still slick and smelling faintly of KY jelly, wrapped firmly around Liam’s cock. Liam gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily into the touch. "Want to know what it’s like to sucked off?" as Justin’s other hand slid down Liam’s back, fingers pressing possessively against the cleft of his ass.
Liam whimpered, a sound caught between terror and desperate arousal. "Yes."
"Then let me show you," Justin breathed.
In one fluid motion, Justin dropped to his knees, his face level with Liam’s rigid cock. He didn’t hesitate. His tongue darted out, tasting the salty bead of precum at the tip. Liam cried out, a choked sound swallowed by the vast night. Then Justin took him fully into his mouth, hot and wet and deep.
Liam’s knees buckled. He braced himself against the rough bark of the oak, fingers scrabbling for purchase.
Justin worked him with a surprising confidence, head bobbing, lips tight, his tongue swirling along the underside. Liam panted, staring down at the impossible sight: his brother, kneeling naked in the field, sucking him off with fierce concentration.
Justin moaned around Liam’s cock, the vibration shooting straight to Liam’s core. Liam’s head thudded back against the tree, a groan tearing loose. "Justin... fuck..." His hips began to thrust shallowly, helplessly, into the warm pressure.
Justin pulled off with a slick pop, his lips glistening. "That’s just the warm-up, Liam. Now I'm going to take you all the way," he rasped. "
Before Liam could protest, not that he was going to, Justin swallowed him again, deep and relentless. Liam gasped, fingers twisting in Justin’s sweat-damp hair, torn between pushing him away and holding him close. Justin’s tongue worked expertly, swirling the head before plunging down the shaft. Liam’s hips jerked forward uncontrollably. "J-Justin... stop... I can’t..." he choked, but his body screamed the opposite.
Justin ignored him, hollowing his cheeks. He sucked harder, faster, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet field. Liam trembled violently, his thighs tensing. Justin felt the telltale pulse against his tongue, the frantic twitch signalling imminent release. He locked eyes with his brother, holding him captive with that dark, knowing stare as he sucked harder.
Liam cried out, a raw, desperate sound ripped from his chest. His back arched off the tree bark as his cock erupted. Thick ropes of hot, salty cum flooded Justin’s mouth. Justin swallowed instinctively, throat working against the viscous flood, then again as another pulse hit. He kept sucking, milking Liam through the shuddering aftershocks until Liam whimpered, oversensitive and spent.
Justin finally released him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Liam slumped against the oak, breathing ragged, eyes wide with shock and residual pleasure. "Oh god..." he whispered, staring at Justin’s cum-smeared lips. "We... we just..."
Justin stood, his own cock hard again. "Yeah," he said simply, stepping closer. "And that was just my mouth," as he pressed Liam back against the rough bark, their bodies flush. "Want to know what comes next?"
Liam flinched, panic flaring. "Justin, no! That’s... too much!" as he tried to push his brother away, but Justin pinned his wrists against the tree.
"Relax," Justin murmured, "No today, but when you want, let me know, or perhaps we can move indoors if you prefer?"
"That would be better," Liam responded as Justin relaxed and took his hand. "Let's have some brotherly love tonight and fill those holes in your education."
Liam got dressed in his pyjamas as Justin shook out his discarded white briefs and vest. Happy that all the creepy crawlies had been removed, he donned his underwear, and hand in hand, they walked back towards the house. Sneaking quietly into their shared bedroom, they settled in.
Justin closed the door softly behind them. "Want to sleep naked?" he whispered, fingers already finding the waistband of Liam’s pyjama bottoms. Liam nodded, breath catching as Justin tugged the cotton down his hips. His cock sprang free, already half-hard again.
Justin chuckled softly. "Someone’s eager," as he knelt, pulling the pyjamas fully off Liam’s ankles. "Can I deal with that before we sleep?" his thumb brushing the underside of Liam’s cockhead.
Liam shivered. "Yes," he breathed, hopping onto the bed. He watched, rapt, as Justin peeled off his own briefs and vest. Moonlight caught the lean lines of Justin’s body, the faint sheen on his thighs, the thick curve of his renewed erection. Liam’s own cock twitched, fully rigid now against his stomach. "Justin?" he whispered. "When you’re done... can I wank you?"
Justin crawled onto the bed beside him, skin warm against Liam’s cooler flesh. "Course you can," he murmured, shifting closer. "And if you really want..." His hand closed around Liam’s cock, firm and slick with spit. "...I’ll teach you how to suck it properly."
Liam gasped, "I don't know about showing me. Perhaps I just want to wank you as you sit on my hips and shoot your load onto me," he pleaded, his eyes fixed on Justin’s mouth.
Justin grinned, leaning down. "You ready?"
Liam woke first in the morning and crept out of bed, finding his pyjamas where Justin had left them. Putting them on and finding his slippers, he left the bedroom for the kitchen to think about what had happened with his brother.
He put the kettle on, stood while it boiled and then made a mug of tea and sat at the table. The memory of Justin satisfying him was mixed with guilt and pleasure. Had his brother shown him a sexual way forward?
He sipped the tea and thought about his brother's experience with Richard Shaw. Perhaps he should seek advice from Richard Shaw, confessing how he felt and hear what he thought. He couldn't talk to his father for obvious reasons, he thought, but perhaps the man down the lane who had fucked his brother would be the ideal candidate to listen.
Reflecting upon how he felt, he wasn't sure he wanted to be gay. He wasn't sure he wanted to be anything. He felt confused and conflicted.
He knew Justin wouldn't be awake until at least midday, and perhaps he should use his early start and wander down and talk to Richard. Deciding to walk their dog instead, Liam hoped that the crisp morning air might clear his head.
Liam pulled on some boxer shorts and a t-shirt, perfect for the warm morning air. They were his favourite colour, providing comfort and breathability due to their roomier fit with the fly for access, but more importantly, they were baggy and not restrictive. Electing to wear sandals, he opened the door and followed Scruff, a wiry brown bundle of energy despite his age, to trot eagerly ahead, tail a metronome against the dew-heavy grass.
Richard Shaw’s cottage sat at the far edge of the field, its stone walls honey-gold in the early light. Scruff bounded ahead, nose to the ground, chasing invisible trails. Liam’s steps slowed as they neared the gate leading to Richard’s garden. He could see Richard was already pruning his roses in the garden, and perhaps this would allow an off-the-cuff conversation.
His throat tightened. “Fuck it”, Liam muttered, the phrase echoing Justin’s bluntness from the night before. “Just say good morning. Ask about the roses. Anything as long as it starts a conversation,” he whispered to himself.
"Good morning, Mr Shaw!" Liam called out, the words louder than intended, slicing through the quiet hum of insects and birdsong. Scruff, startled, stopped his sniffing to glance back.
Richard straightened up, looking at Liam's attire, secateurs in hand, squinting against the sun. "Liam! Didn't expect to see you up with the larks." He gestured towards the gate with a gloved hand. "Come in, lad. Scruff too. Mind the new petunias."
Liam pushed the creaky gate open, Scruff darting past to investigate a butterfly. "Flowers look wonderful, Mr Shaw," Liam managed, his voice slightly strained. "Really... vibrant."
Richard wiped his brow with the back of his glove, a knowing glint in his eyes that made Liam's stomach flip. "Thank you, Liam. The 'Crimson Glory' roses are particularly happy this year. But," he added, his tone softening but still direct, "roses don't usually bring lads across the field before breakfast. Especially not after the kind of night I suspect you've had." He set the secateurs down carefully on a nearby stone bench, the clink loud in the sudden quiet. "I managed to watch you both last night under the oak tree. It wasn't as dark as you thought it."
Liam froze. The warmth of the morning vanished, replaced by a cold flush that crawled up his neck and burned his cheeks. He stared at Richard, the man who had started this whole chain of events with Justin. The image of Richard watching them. Justin, on his knees, Liam arching against the tree, slammed into him with brutal clarity. His mouth went dry. "You... you saw?" he stammered, the words barely a whisper.
"I did," Richard responded. "Did you enjoy it?"
Liam almost panicked, but managed to answer. "I did, but I'm now feeling confused, even, guilty."
Richard nodded slowly, pulling off his gardening gloves. "Confusion's natural, Liam. Especially when it's your brother." He gestured to the stone bench beneath the climbing roses. "Sit. Tell me what's churning in that head of yours."
Liam sank onto the cool stone bench, Scruff settling at his feet. He stared at his hands, knuckles white. "It's... I don't know if I'm gay, Mr Shaw. Not like Justin seems to be." He swallowed hard, the admission thick in his throat. "But... I like watching things. Men... masturbating. Especially..." He trailed off, heat flooding his face again. "Especially men being spanked by other men. Seeing that... it turns me on. A lot." He risked a glance up, bracing for disgust.
Richard smiled, leaning back against the bench. "That's fine, Liam. Perfectly normal. Exploration takes many forms." He paused, his gaze steady but kind. "Have you ever been spanked by a friend? Or just watched videos?"
Liam shook his head, staring at a ladybug crawling on his knee. "Just watched. It makes me... hard. But the thought of actually doing it? I don't know." He glanced nervously at Richard. "Justin... he wants to do more. Stuff like he did with you. But I don't think I want that. Not yet, at least."
Richard watched him, a thoughtful expression replacing the earlier knowing glint. "Desire isn't always straightforward, Liam. It can be specific, almost... compartmentalised." He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and calm. "What you enjoy watching isn't a contract demanding you act it out yourself. It's just a facet of what turns you on. And that's perfectly valid."
Liam nodded, trying to absorb this. He shifted on the bench, the cool stone pressing through his thin boxer shorts. A subtle warmth spread through him, a familiar stirring low in his belly. His cock, soft moments ago, began to thicken noticeably beneath the loose cotton of his boxer shorts, tenting the fabric. He crossed his legs quickly, hoping the baggy fit hid the telltale bulge, and then he panicked, standing up with his hands covering his erection. "I have to go, Mr Shaw."
Richard’s gaze didn’t waver. He saw Liam’s sudden movement and the flush deepening on the boy’s neck. "Easy, lad," he said gently, his voice steady. "No need to bolt. It’s just a reaction. Happens to us all," gesturing calmly back to the bench. "Sit. Let it settle. We were talking about what you like to watch. Tell me more about that."
Liam hesitated, his hands still pressed protectively over his manhood. Slowly, he lowered himself back onto the cool stone bench, his thighs tight together. He stared at the dew-damp grass near Scruff’s paws. "It’s... videos," he mumbled, his voice thick. "Men getting spanked. Hard. By other men. Over their knees, mostly. Or bent over something."
He swallowed, the image vivid in his mind. "The sound. The... redness afterwards. How they squirm. It makes me..." He trailed off, unable to say the word again.
"Tell me, Liam, do you wank when watching those videos?"
Liam blushed again, the intimacy of the question not lost on him. "Yes, I do. Sometimes wanking two or three times, depending upon the video and how much it turns me on."
"And, I assume you have no close friends you can experiment with?" Richard asked.
Liam shook his head. "No. I don't think they'd understand." He shifted again, the persistent erection straining against his boxer shorts. "I don't even know if I want to experiment. Watching feels... safer."
"Of course, watching is safer. You can turn the video off if it gets too much, but the intimacy of a spanking can be wonderfully intimate and personal, Liam."
Richard's voice was low, steady. He placed the secateurs deliberately on the ground beside him. Liam watched the movement, the way the worn leather of Richard’s gardening gloves creased. The bulge in his boxer shorts felt enormous, a hot, insistent pressure against the thin cotton. He kept his hands clamped over it, knuckles digging into his thighs.
"Tell you what, Liam. I would be quite happy to spank you if you wanted to experience how you feel in a safe environment," Richard offered. "A safe and intimate environment can change everything."
Liam’s breath caught. The idea wasn’t shocking; it was terrifyingly tempting. He pictured himself bent over Richard’s sturdy lap, the sting of a hand on his bare skin, the helpless squirming. His cock throbbed in agreement beneath his hands. "But... why would you do that?" he managed, voice tight. "For me?"
Richard leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Simply put, Liam," he began, his gaze steady and unflinching, "I never had anyone I could trust when I was your age. Not a soul I could ask the real questions to, or who’d show me how to navigate... this."
Richard gestured vaguely between them. "Justin trusted me enough to ask. And now you’re here, wrestling with things that feel too big to hold alone. "What would be your reaction if I pulled you over my knee now and spanked you?"
Liam’s pulse hammered against his ribs. He could smell the damp earth, the roses, and something sharper, Richard’s sweat mingled with leather. His gaze flickered to Richard’s lap. "I... I’d be scared," he admitted, the words raw. "But also... excited?" as his cock twitched under his palms, betraying him. "Will it hurt?"
"Of course it will hurt, but satisfying sexual desire always has its challenges," Richard replied.
Liam's hands trembled over his lap. The morning air felt charged, thick with possibility. Scruff whined softly, sensing the tension. "Would you mind?... before I lose my nerve?"
Richard didn't wait for Liam to stand up. "Take the t-shirt off," he instructed, his voice calm but firm. Liam obeyed instantly, pulling the thin cotton over his head. The cool air prickled his bare skin. Richard's gaze dropped to Liam’s lap, where the unmistakable outline of his erection strained against the fly of his boxer shorts, the damp tip peeking through the fabric. "I think I should take those off," Richard observed, his tone matter-of-fact. "What do you think, Liam? Bare skin makes it more honest."
Liam’s throat clicked. "Yes," he whispered, the word barely audible.
He stood on shaky legs as Richard pushed his boxer shorts down his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock was free, flushed and rigid. Liam stepped out of the pool underwear, naked now except for his sandals. He felt his vulnerability was dizzying as he stood waiting.
"Over my knee, then," Richard said, patting his thigh. "Belly down, lad. Let yourself feel it."
Liam moved slowly, his heart pounding against his ribs. He lowered himself awkwardly across Richard’s solid thighs, the rough fabric of Richard’s work trousers scratching his stomach. His cock pressed uncomfortably against Richard’s leg.
Richard’s large hand settled warm and heavy on the small of Liam’s back, a grounding pressure. "Relax," Richard murmured. "Breathe. This isn’t punishment. It’s exploration."
Liam flinched as the first smack landed, sharp, startling, a bright sting across his left buttock. He gasped. The second smack followed almost immediately on the right cheek, harder this time, the sound crisp in the garden. Heat bloomed under his skin. A third smack landed lower, making him jerk. "That’s it," Richard said softly. "Feel it. Enjoy it."
The spanking settled into a rhythm of firm, measured swats that covered his backside. The pain was sharp, immediate, but beneath it, something else unfurled: a deep, spreading warmth that coiled low in Liam’s belly.
Each smack sent a jolt through him, his cock grinding helplessly against Richard’s thigh. He bit his lip to stifle a groan, but a whimper escaped. The sting built, a bright counterpoint to the throbbing arousal between his legs. Richard’s hand paused, resting on the heated skin. "You’re taking it well," he said, his thumb rubbing a small, soothing circle on Liam’s flank, providing a pause in the session.
"Now tell me, truthfully, does it feel like you imagined?" Richard demanded.
Liam could only nod, his face pressed into the rough fabric of Richard’s trousers, overwhelmed by the raw, undeniable truth of his own desire.
Richard resumed the spanking, his palm landing with precise force across Liam’s heated skin. Each sharp *crack* echoed in the quiet garden, sending fresh waves of stinging heat radiating through Liam’s buttocks.
But between strikes, Richard’s hand would linger, not just resting, but purposefully exploring the curve of a cheek with the pad of his thumb, tracing the flushed skin with a slow, sensual pressure that felt almost proprietary.
Liam gasped, the contrast between the sharp sting and the deep, intimate massage sending sparks through his nerves. His cock, trapped beneath him, throbbed relentlessly against Richard’s thigh, leaking a slick trail onto the coarse work trousers.
The rhythmic assault and the tender, almost teasing caresses in the brief pauses were weaving a dangerous spell. Liam could feel the tension coiling tighter in his groin, a familiar pressure building that he couldn't suppress. Panic fluttered in his chest as he questioned silently, “Was he really going to cum like this? Bent over a man’s knee, being spanked?”
Richard’s experienced hand paused again, resting possessively on Liam’s trembling backside. He felt the subtle shift in Liam’s breathing, the desperate little thrusts Liam couldn’t quite control against his leg, the way the boy’s entire body seemed to vibrate with pent-up energy.
The dampness soaking through his trouser leg was unmistakable. A low hum of satisfaction escaped Richard. "Ah," he murmured, his voice thick with understanding. "I see. Getting close, are we, lad?"
His hand slid down, not to strike, but to cup the burning curve of Liam’s rear, his fingers dipping dangerously close to the cleft between. "That’s the beauty of it, Liam. The sting and the sweetness all tangled together." He let his thumb brush a slow, deliberate circle just above Liam’s entrance, feeling the boy shudder violently beneath his touch. Richard knew the signs; Liam was teetering on the edge, arousal and the rhythmic stimulation of the spanking pushing him perilously close to an involuntary climax.
"Please..." Liam choked out, his voice muffled and desperate.
Richard understood the unspoken plea perfectly. He lifted his hand again, not for a random smack, but with calculated intent. The next blow landed lower, precisely where buttock met thigh, a sensitive, nerve-rich zone. The sharp *crack* made Liam cry out, his body arching reflexively, grinding his leaking cock harder against Richard's leg.
Another smack landed, slightly overlapping the previous strike. Liam’s control shattered. His hips bucked violently, a ragged, broken sob tearing from his throat as his cock pulsed against Richard’s trousers. Warmth flooded out, soaking the coarse fabric in thick, rhythmic spurts. His entire body convulsed in Richard’s grip, back arched, legs trembling, the orgasm ripped from him by the relentless sting and the dominating pressure.
Richard held him firmly through the violent shudders, his large hand splayed possessively over Liam's reddened backside, feeling the tremors subside. He didn’t speak, letting the only sounds be Liam’s ragged, gasping breaths and the distant chirp of birds. Slowly, carefully, Richard eased the boy upright.
Liam swayed, his face flushed, eyes wide and dazed. His gaze dropped to the dark, wet patch staining Richard’s trouser leg, undeniable evidence of his climax. A fresh wave of heat flooded his cheeks. "I... I’m sorry," he stammered, his voice thick with embarrassment and lingering shock.
Richard pulled Liam gently towards him by the shoulder until he stood between his legs. "No apologies, lad," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "That was honest. That’s what matters."
Turning Liam around, Richard took a long look at Liam's bottom. "Nice and red and warm, Liam, just as it should be."
Turning the boy around to face him again, Richard observed Liam had cum on his cock and pubic hair, which Richard couldn't ignore as his thumb brushed Liam’s bare hip, moving to touch the warm semen that hadn't been allowed to shoot a distance.
“You look fabulous, Liam, but perhaps we should get you cleaned up before you continue walking your dog,”
Richard observed, his gaze lingering on the drying streaks glistening on Liam’s stomach and the flushed, well-spanked curve of his backside. He stood, the damp patch on his trousers unmistakable. “Come inside. We’ll get you sorted properly.”
Liam hesitated, his skin still tingling from the spanking, the air cool on his heated flesh. He glanced down at the mess he’d made, a mix of embarrassment and a strange, defiant pride swirling inside him. “It’s okay, Mr Shaw,” he murmured, as he bent slowly, wincing as the movement pulled at his stinging skin, and picked up his discarded boxer shorts from the dew-damp grass. “I can slip these back on.”
He held the soft cotton, a familiar comfort. “I sort of like the feel of cum… letting it dry against me. It’s… sticky. Warm. Messy,” as he met Richard’s eyes, a flicker of vulnerability there. “It reminds me, I guess. Of what happened. What I felt.”
Richard watched him, a slow smile touching his lips. He understood the sentiment, the raw, physical bookmark of an intense experience. “Fair enough, lad.”
Liam nodded, pulling the boxer shorts up carefully over his tender backside. The fabric, slightly damp from the grass, felt cool and snug. "Thank you, Mr Shaw and perhaps.....we can do this again?"
Richard watched Liam’s movements, his gaze lingering on the front of the boxer shorts where the fabric was already darkening in patches, stained by the sticky residue clinging to Liam’s cock and pubic hair.
A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Of course we can, Liam," he said, his voice low and steady. "And perhaps next time..." He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "...you could wear a white vest and white briefs. That’s what I like to see. The contrast... the way the fabric clings, shows every outline, every damp spot. Makes the results far more enjoyable. Just like in your videos, eh?"
Liam’s cheeks flushed anew, but this time it wasn't just from embarrassment. The suggestion sent a fresh, unexpected thrill through him. He pictured it: thin white cotton stretched tight, revealing every curve, every stiffening detail. Why not, he thought, the image vivid and strangely arousing.
"Perhaps I will do that," Liam responded, his voice steadier now, a hint of newfound confidence beneath the lingering shyness. "But I will have to buy some, so I’ll talk to Justin. He will know where I can buy them."
As Richard thought about the briefs that Justin had bought for him, Liam called out sharply, "Scruff! Come!" The dog bounded over, tail wagging, oblivious to the tension. Liam turned, offering Richard a quick, grateful smile before pushing through the creaky gate, the damp grass cool under his sandals once again.
Richard watched him go, Liam's gait slightly stiff from the spanking, the white t-shirt clinging where sweat had dampened it during their session. There was a new looseness in the lad's shoulders, a quiet confidence replacing the earlier panic. "A milestone indeed," Richard muttered, pride mingling with a fierce protectiveness.
Liam had faced a core truth about himself, raw and unfiltered, and hadn't flinched. But the sight of Liam walking away, the subtle hitch in his step, the memory of his flushed skin and desperate cries, ignited a deep, insistent throb in Richard’s own groin. The damp patch Liam had left on his trousers felt suddenly hot, a maddening reminder. He shifted, the rough fabric rubbing against his hardened cock. "Christ," he whispered, "I need relief, and soon."
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