Pete's Story

Pete woke in a strange bed – again! Looking over at the body next to him he tried to remember where he was, who he was with, what had happened to bring him to this particular bed and what he had done when he had got there. It was a pattern of events he was all too familiar with. At twenty three years old, financially independent, recently employed by a friend of a friend to help rescue an effectively bankrupt small, niche drinks company and just having bought his own home, a small upmarket apartment in East London with some of the inheritance left to him by his Nan, Pete had finally set out on his new life as a self proclaimed stud – or was that slut? – about town. He was having a ball.

Gaining a business degree at Birmingham University, he found himself at something at a loose end as he turned twenty two, so he decided not to rush into anything and to stay in Birmingham and find himself a temporary job whilst he thought about what direction he wanted his life to take. Fate, as ever, intervened. A fuck buddy from Uni, David - he with the rugby players body and the dick of a donkey – got him an interview at his rugby club bar and restaurant who was looking for an assistant manager for twelve months to cover maternity leave. It was a perfect situation for both parties, and Pete loved working at the friendly, busy venue, where many of the friends he had made at university regularly pitched up to either play in or support one of the associated rugby teams. It helped that there was always plenty of muscular, testosterone fuelled prime beef wandering about the place, not all of it adverse to keeping Pete's arse and mouth in good working order on a regular basis. He also had full and free use of the on site gym along with free advice from the resident fitness and health coaches, and it was during his time at the club that Pete started to pay attention to his physical appearance, having already accepted that the more athletic and physically attractive you were the more cock you got. And Pete did enjoy cock! He wasn't a sexaholic but he would quite happily take as much – attractive – cock as he could get. And he had discovered whilst at university that he liked to vary the type of sex he experienced as well as where he had it.

Initially, upon arriving in Birmingham and taking up residence in Halls, he had been a little shy and reticent about hooking up with anyone. After all, he was legally still under age, so he had to be careful. He shared a room in Halls with a chap called Ian, an average looking, bookish lad who hailed from New Milton in the New Forest. Ian liked sport but was far too uncoordinated to be any good at anything other than running, at which he excelled. Physically, he was taller than Pete with very thin arms, no body fat and the most beautifully sculptured thighs and buttocks that Pete had ever seen. On the rare occasion he saw him naked, Pete noticed an above average, uncut dick and a neatly trimmed bush and shaved balls. But Ian had a very nice, if plain girlfriend called Sally, of long standing, and while he had no problem at all with Pete being Gay, he wasn't in the little bit interested in any form of physical contact with him. The two got on famously, so well in fact that when the time came for them to move out of halls into private student accommodation off campus, they decided to stay together and to continue to look out for each other. In years to come, Pete would be God Father to Ian and Sally's three very adorable children, who would play an important part in his life.

It was inevitable that Pete would at some point meet some one at uni that who would sweep him off his feet, and with whom he would fall hopelessly in love. Well it almost happened like that, but not quite. One very cold, icy and dark February evening at the beginning of his second term, Pete was rushing home from a rather boring lecture that had over run by forty excruciatingly interminable minutes. He was hurrying as it was quiz night at the local pub they frequented and he didn't want to be late and let everyone down. Suddenly, as he rounded the corner by the local convenience store he collided with the unfortunate individual who chose that particular minute to exit the shop laden down with several bags of groceries. The pavement being slippery due to ice both Pete and his unintended victim found it impossible to retain their footing and both fell to the ground in a confusion of arms, legs, shopping bags and assorted spilled groceries. The whole being accompanied by cries of alarm and some choice expletives. When all had settled, Pete found himself pinned to the ground by the back and upper arm of a grey, woollen coated, thick set individual. The voice above him sounded deep, very masculine, and very concerned for the person he was laying on. ‘What the fuck! Oh man, are you ok? Don't try and move. I'll help you up. Stay there mate. I'll be up in a minute.' The man laying on him managed to struggle to his feet. ‘Let me just put my bags down safe here mate and then I can help you up.' Pete looked round and watched as the shopper collected his groceries, repacked everything and carefully placed his bags against the wall. He realised he knew the person he had collided with although only by sight, they had never actually spoken. They attended some lectures together and Pete had seen him several times at the sports department when he had been playing squash or swimming. The man he had brought low was the captain of his years rugby team. A total dream boat called Stuart Devrill. At just over six feet tall with the body of a Greek god, the bluest of eyes that you could drown in, a perfect smile and unruly blonde hair that you really did want to run your fingers through, Stuart was a walking fantasy, and as he turned towards Pete offering his hand to help him up, for the first time in as long as he could remember, Pete found himself totally tongue tied and blushing like a school girl. ‘Ah. Yeah. Ah. Thanks. Ah. Okay. Ah. Bugger. Ah…..'

Once standing, he held on to Stuart's hand, unwilling, or unable to let it go. ‘Ahhh, sorry about that. Ah, wasn't really looking where I was going, aah, I, ah, I was, am, ah, late you see. Gotta get home for a quiz. Well not home, to the pub. For the quiz I mean. Home first, then the pub, for the em quizzz….' His sentence tailed off as he realised how ridiculous he sounded and he saw that Stuart was smiling at him in a totally cute and gorgeous way, and was making no effort to remove his hand from his grasp. ‘I'm Pete by the way.'

‘Yes I know. I'm Stuart.'

‘You do? I mean you know who I am?'

‘Yes,' answered Stuart laughing gently.

‘Why? Why would you know? I mean, well, I don't…….'

‘Because I made it my business to find out.'

You did?'

Again, the gentle laugh, ‘Yes, I did.'

Pete felt himself starting to relax. ‘Why?'

‘Do you ever stop asking questions? Because I like you and I wanted to find out as much about you as I could before I made an idiot of myself or embarrassed us both.'

‘Oh.' A big pause as Pete thinks about what Stuart has just said. ‘Why would we be embarrassed?'

‘Because I wanted to ask you out for a drink or a movie or something like that, but I needed to find out if you'd be okay with that first. You know?'

‘No I don't know. Am I missing something here?' Suddenly, Pete realised what Stuart had said. ‘Wait a minute, did you just ask me on a date? Your gay aren't you and you just asked me on a date didn't you?'

‘Yes and yes. But maybe you should keep it down a bit. I mean I don't mind, but not everyone is cool with the gay thing. Okay?'

‘Oh, yeah. Yeah sorry. Course.' Pete smiled shyly. ‘I've never been on a date before.' And then, on the spur of the moment, ‘Do you want to come to the quiz? We don't usually win but it's fun anyway, and they do a hotpot dinner and the beers good.'

Stuart was infected by Pete's enthusiasm and naivety. Right there and then he felt himself falling in love with this awkward, good looking, sexy, hesitant, innocent, unworldly young man who seemed to light up the world around him.

As he followed him home that evening, and then to the pub for the quiz and hotpot, he thought again, what a glorious arse the kid had and how much he really hoped he would let him make love to it.

‘Are you sure your shopping's okay, I mean nothing's going to go off or anything?'

Stuart couldn't help but smile at the earnestness of Pete's question. ‘To be honest Pete I haven't actually thought about my shopping since leaving it at your house and coming to the pub. I've sort of been concentrating on other things.'

‘Oh, you mean the quiz. Yeah, hard questions tonight.'

‘Yeah, the quiz.' Shaking his head and chuckling, Stuart caught Ian smiling at him. The two men had liked each other the moment they had met, instinctively sensing that both had only good intentions towards Pete. Ian knew that although his housemate wasn't a virgin, his experience with one on one relationships was limited to the very occasional one night stand, and that the only person he had ever had feelings for in his short life was the mysterious Jason, who was rarely mentioned and never discussed. He could see straight off that Stuart wasn't a fuck'em and leave type guy. He had taken time to find out as much as he could about Pete before meeting him, in fact, he hadn't actually planned on asking him out until he had introduced himself to Ian and sought his advice about the shy young man he had found himself drawn to. Due to his inexperience of the Gay Scene, Pete had no idea what a rare creature Stuart was, and certainly did not understand how lucky he was to have found himself such a kind, caring and patient first proper boyfriend and lover.

After their first date at the pub quiz, which with Stuart's help they actually won, the new couple spent as much time together as their busy timetables would allow. Stuart took things slowly as far as sex went, sensing Pete's reluctance to fully commit to a no holds barred physical relationship. He got all the cuddles and kisses he could ever need, and the first time Pete gave him head he was, quite literally, blown away. The subject of penetrative sex however always completely shut Pete down. He simply would not discuss it. On the one occasion Stuart had pressed the issue Pete had become very upset, almost violent in his insistence that he would not talk about it. The subject was dropped, but it became the elephant in the room and both men knew it was driving a wedge between them. Things came to a head about three weeks later. Stuart's team had played rugby this particular Saturday afternoon against another college. The game had been hard and they had lost by just one point – one fucking point! As captain, he took full responsibility for the defeat even though everyone, team mates and coach included, told him it was not his fault. He was morose and angry as the game finished and when Pete tried to console him he had brushed him off uncharacteristically telling him to ‘Just go home will you. I'll maybe come round later.' Then with a definite sneer, ‘maybe you can give me one of your expert blowjobs to help me calm down.' Pete was stunned and stood stock still, tears pricking his eyes as he watched his lover storm off to the changing rooms.

As he walked slowly home, he reflected on the relationship that had built up between himself and Stuart over the last few months and tried hard to be as honest with himself as possible. By the time he was nearing home he had realised how selfish he had been and just how patient and positively saint like Stuart had behaved. He took a deep breath and made what was to be a life changing decision. Coming to the corner shop, he called in, purchased four items then headed home. Ian was staying at Sally's that weekend, so he and Stuart would have the house to themselves. As soon as he was through the door, he picked up the phone and called Stuart, praying he would be showered and home by now. His luck was in. Stuart picked up,

‘Hello,'

‘It's me. Don't hang up.'

A chuckle. ‘Why would I hang up on my best boy?'

‘I thought you were mad at me.'

‘No. Never. Sorry Pete. I just lashed out. Forgive me?'

A sigh of relief. ‘Yes'

An awkward silence.

‘Is that why you phoned?'

‘No. I mean yes, sort of. I need to talk to you. To your face. I need to tell you something.'

‘Okay. Well I'm coming round tonight for a bit.'

‘I'd like you to stay. All night I mean.'

Big silence.

‘Are you still there? Stuart?'

‘Yeah, yeah. Are you sure?'

‘Absolutely. See you about six?'

‘Okay.'

‘And Stuart.'

‘Mm?'

‘I love you.' Pete hung up before Stuart could reply or react. He was shaking, not with fear, but with excitement. He was absolutely certain he was doing the right thing. Absolutely certain.

***

At the other end of the phone Stuart was left wondering what the hell had just happened. He knew he had been out of order in the way he had spoken to Pete after the match that afternoon, and had planned to apologise and find some way to make it up to him when he saw him later, so the fact that Pete had phoned him had slightly unbalanced him. Then there was the invitation to spend the night, something he had wanted to do for several weeks but that when mentioned or hinted at had always caused stress and upset in his nervous boyfriend. Stuart was studying psychology so had quickly surmised that hidden in a deep place where no one could see was a memory that Pete was afraid of and that prevented him from fully committing to him. He had an idea what it might be but was sensible enough to know that he had to wait for Pete to tell him, he could never force the issue. From the telephone conversation they had just had he nervously anticipated that tonight could be the night when Pete opened up to him. He silently prayed that he would be strong enough to cope with what the man he loved would tell him.

He decided to make a special effort. Knowing that Pete loved him to be clean, shaved and trimmed in all areas, despite the shower he had taken after the game, he ran a hot bath and diligently scrubbed his magnificent body from top to toe. He then shaved his balls and arse crack – Pete loved to rim his arse but moaned if he got hairs in his teeth. He then decided to take any pubic hairs off his penis, leaving a neatly trimmed bush at the base of his now tumescent seven and a half inch beautifully thick cock. He gently ran his finger from his ring piece, along his taint, over his balls, up the length of his knob. Watching as his love stick reacted to his stimulation by reaching its full stretch, the foreskin, tight and straining over the full, shiny head, rolled back to expose the eye, which held a jewel of pre-cum, sparkling in the reflected light. Stuart caught it on his finger tip, brought it to his mouth, placed it on his lips. Closing his eyes he imagined it was the taste of Pete. He gripped his rock hard phallus in his hand, squeezed and pumped. Savouring the imagined taste of his lover it took but four hard pulls on his cock before he felt his balls churn and tighten along with the familiar uncontrollable feeling of impending release deep in his gut. The rush of semen from his core to the tip of his dick to exploding out in stream after stream onto his face, into his mouth and onto his chest and stomach was one of the best climaxes he had ever achieved from self stimulation. He was left panting and with a cock so sensitive that it was a good five minutes before he could think about washing off and getting dry.

Once dry and dressed he felt exhilarated, ready to take on the world. He positively skipped to his car and on his way to Pete's, stopped at a florists to buy him a bunch of flowers. Something he had never done in his life before. There was a newsagents next to the florists and he noticed that they sold boxes of chocolates. ‘What the hell,' he thought. So when he arrived at Pete's front door he had a large floral bouquet in one hand and a large box of Milk Tray in the other. Pete open the door to find his gorgeous man standing there with a huge, soppy grin on his face, holding his gifts towards him. ‘Good evening handsome. I've brought flowers to say I'm sorry I was a dick earlier and chocolates to say I love you, but you can only have the chockies on the condition that I get to share. Okay?'

Pete couldn't help but laugh. Stuart looked adorable and he put his arms around his neck and kissed him, tongues and everything, right there on the doorstep.

‘Wow. Now that's a welcome. Wanna go inside and do that some more?'

‘Yes please. But first, I want to talk to you and I've made dinner for us.'

Stuart walked into the front room and immediately saw that a big effort had been made o clean and tidy the place. The small dining table was set for two, the coal fire was happily burning in the grate ensuring the place was warm and cozy, soft jazz was playing on the hi-if, the lighting was subdued and something smelled delicious.

Taking the flowers Pete headed to the kitchen, ‘I'll just put these in water. Hang your coat up and then could you please open the wine on the table?' The wine had been the first of the items Pete had bought on his way home. Returning to the front room, Pete watched as Stuart removed the cork from the bottle of Australian red. ‘I chose that one because I know you like Aussie reds. I hope it's ok.'

‘Yeah I've had it before, it's nice. Not too dry. Quite fruity.'

‘The wine or me?' Pete felt playful. The two men looked at each other and smiled. Stuart moved to Pete and took him in his arms. He gently kissed him.

‘Seriously Pete, I'm sorry I was a cunt to you this afternoon. You didn't deserve it.'

Bringing his hand to Stuart's cheek Pete looked deep into his eyes, ‘Actually, I'm glad you did because you got me thinking.' He put a finger on Stuart's lips to prevent him from interrupting. ‘Sit down for a minute, I need to tell you something.' He guided him to the sofa sat him down and then knelt on the floor between his legs, facing him. He took Stuart's hands in his. ‘Now please let me speak and don't interrupt. If you have any questions ask them when I've finished speaking. Okay?' Stuart nodded. ‘Okay, here goes.' Pete turned around and sat with his back against the sofa, still between Stuart's legs, still holding his hands. ‘When I was little my Dad used to beat me up a lot. I don't know why he did it but he did. He'd use his fists, his hands and if he was really angry with me, his belt. I can't remember anything good or nice about being a kid. All I see when I think back is pain, piss and tears. The strongest memory I have is being whipped around the kitchen in my white vest and underpants. I don't know why he was whipping me but I must have deserved it. I was pissing myself I was so frightened. He just kept hitting me with his belt. In the end I was huddled in the corner, laying in a pool of piss, sobbing and begging him to stop. I still don't know why he did it. Probably never will. That wasn't the first or last time. It's just the time I remember most for some reason. I wouldn't say goodnight to him one night. I think he'd sent me to bed early or something, so I was being stubborn and wouldn't speak to him. So he punched me in the face, split my lip and smashed my nose. Blood every where. Mum wouldn't help me I remember. Told me I deserved it. When he wasn't hitting me he was belittling me. He took every opportunity he could to put me down. Lots of little ways. I was never any good at anything. Anything I made or did could be done better. He would make fun of me in public, he loved to humiliate me in front of others. I w as terrified of going anywhere with him. I hated being out in public. Hated it. I tried to avoid him as much as I could. I hid in secret places. I never made any friends. I didn't dare to. I was always the odd one out at school. Course I played up at school. I wanted attention. He told the school they could do what he did and beat me into submission. So they did. My entire life was beating and humiliation. Then these two guys moved in next door. They were teachers at the private school in Blackburn. I wan 10 or 11. Todd and Guy. Todd was American. I thought they were amazing. They actually treated me like a human being, like I mattered. They taught me how to swim, how to play squash. Helped me with my school work. Let me spend as much time with them as I liked. I was happy. For the first time in my life, I was happy. Then one day I was helping Todd check out a couple of tents in the garden and somehow we ended up play fighting and he was tickling me. Then he had his hand down my trousers and then………well, I'm sure you can work it out. He told me it was our secret. That no one but us could know.'

Pete paused, breathing slowly to keep his composure. Stuart gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. Pete relaxed, feeling safe and able to continue. ‘As time went on he got me to do more and more to him and as I got older he wanted to do more to me. At first I wouldn't but one day he said he wanted to play a game. He said he was going to tie my hands to the top of the bed and then tickle me and do something called edging. I wasn't sure, but he had never hurt me so I agreed. He tied me up and did what he said, but then he started to play with my bum. He'd done that before but I'd always stopped him. I couldn't this time. My arms were tied and he could easily hold my legs. I started to shout when he pushed his finger in me, so he gagged me. I struggled as hard as I could Stuart, honest, I really tried to stop him but he was too strong. He put something cold and slimy on my bum, lifted my legs high up and knelt behind me. Then he push his cock in me. I screamed and screamed but he didn't stop. He just pushed it all in, telling me I'd get used to it and like it, and he was right. I did. I did. I couldn't help myself. It was dirty and it was so, so wrong, but it started to feel nice somehow, and I started to enjoy it. My cock got hard. He started to laugh at me. See kid, he said, told you you'd like it. I fucking hated him then Stuart, hated like I wanted to kill him. But I wanted to please him too. He didn't hit me or hurt me or put me down. So I was his little whore. That's what he called me. ‘My little whore.'' Pete stopped talking. He was silently crying, holding Stuart's hands so tight it was hurting him. Stuart sat there stunned. He too was crying, hurting for the boy he loved. Wishing he could take the pain. Wanting to find this Todd and beat him to a pulp. He gently released a hand from Pete's grasp and brought it to the sobbing mans head where he slowly and lovingly stroked his hair in an attempt to silently convey his love to him.

‘He used to tell me what time and what day I had to meet him for sex. I always went. I never told anyone. He always tied me up. Always took what he wanted. Then one day I was late. Really late. I'd been playing, having a great day with Jason. Todd was so angry with me. When he'd got me tied up he said I had to be punished for making him wait and disobeying him. Suddenly he started to hit me with this leather whip. I know now it was a cat-o-nine-tails. God it hurt. I was screaming and begging him to stop but he was really getting off on it. Then there was a knock on the door. Then another, louder this time. Then I heard Jason shouting through the letter box, something about calling the police. Todd panicked and went downstairs. I didn't know what was happening. I wanted to get free but didn't want Jay to see me like that. He'd hate me. Then I heard them coming upstairs. Saw Jay. His face. He was so angry I could tell. He was so calm. Todd didn't know him so he thought he was going to join in. He gave him the whip. Jay used it on Todd. I thought he was going to kill him. I screamed at him to stop. To take me out of there. He did. He almost carried me to my hiding place on the moors. He saved me. He loved me and he saved me. I haven't trusted anyone except Jason since then.'

Sobbing now, Pete turned towards Stuart and buried his face in his chest. Stuart wrapped his arms around him, ‘It's okay baby, I've got you now, you're safe now. It's all out now. He can't hurt you anymore now. He's gone now. You did really well.'

Time passed as the two of them held each other and let their emotions calm down. After a while Stuart gently lifted Pete's face up, kissed his eyes, his mouth then smiling down at him asked, ‘did you say something about having cooked dinner, because I don't know about you but I'm bloody starving?' Moments later they were both laughing, the tension and uncertainty of Pete's revelations put behind them. Both knew they would come back to them, but not tonight. Tonight they would relax in a shared love and respect, simply enjoying the company of the most important person in their lives.

After eating the very tasty pasta dish Pete had prepared and sharing the clearing up, the two men settled down on the sofa in front of the warming, relaxing fire. Pete lay with his head on Stuart's shoulder, wrapped in his arms. For a long time, nothing was said. Periodically either one or the other would instigate a kiss, and as the evening wore on, they became more passionate. Pete could feel Stuart's growing ardour and could sense his frustration. Smiling to himself, he sat up straight and looked at the muscular specimen beside him. ‘I have some presents for you. Stay there. I won't be a minute.' Pete left the room, ran upstairs and reappeared minutes later with a carrier bag. He knelt on the floor facing Stuart. In the bag were the other three things he had bought earlier. The first thing he pulled out of the bag was a single red rose. ‘I got this to tell you I love you. I have never told anyone that before. I have never wanted to tell anyone that before.' He handed the rose to Stuart who accepted it with tears in his eyes. The second thing to come out of the bag was a toothbrush, ‘this is yours, to keep here next to mine in the bathroom. That way you can stay over when ever you like.' Stuart found himself laughing at this simple example of his boyfriend's humour, one of the reasons he had fallen in love with him. ‘Finally, the last gift I have for you is sort of facilitated by what's in the bag.' Pete tentatively handed the carrier bag over. Stuart opened it, put his hand inside and took out what he found – a tube of KY lubricant. ‘That is to show you that I not only love you but trust you as well. I'd like you to make love to me tonight Stuart. That's if you want to of course.' Stuart was almost overwhelmed at the love and trust evident in the face looking up at him. He thought carefully before he spoke.

‘It would be an honour Pete. I can think of nothing I would like more than to take you to bed and show you how beautiful and special it can be when two men make love to each other.'