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Archive-name: Samesex/adam-2.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Adam - 2





Chapter 2

---------

    Adam awoke  suddenly from a dreamless sleep. The room was in dark-

ness and  a total,  overwhelming silence  which was broken only by the

distant rumble  of traffic on the ring-road a few streets away. He lay

there for  a while, eyes closed, listening to the night sounds and the

deep rhythmic breathing of the man next to him.



    At some point in the night Stan had rolled over and was now facing

away from him. Adam snuggled close to his sleeping lover, slipping his

arm round  Stan's waist  and pressing  himself up tight against Stan's

back. He  could feel the smooth warmth of Stan's bare skin against his

chest and  stomach, and  the clammy  warmth of Stan's buttocks against

his already  erect penis.  Adam adjusted his position slightly so that

his cock  was nestled  in the cleavage of Stan's arse. God, it felt so

good! Stan  had taught him a lot in the two and a half weeks he'd been

staying with  him, and  had shown  him just  how pleasant it was to be

close to someone, both in a physical and an emotional sense.



    Adam ran  his hand lightly over Stan's stomach, and playfully fin-

gered his navel. Stan was quite hairy, almost the complete opposite of

Adam. His  legs and  belly were covered by a liberal mat of dark hair,

although his chest was bare save for around the nipples. Adam had very

little hair  on his muscular frame. His pubic bush was quite thick and

the hair in his armpits, but apart from that his body was smooth, with

just the  finest down  covering his long legs. Stan had once commented

that Adam  had the  body of  a teenage  athlete, hard and muscular yet

supple and  youthful. It was difficult to put an age to him. Stan, who

was almost 32, said he would estimate Adam's age at between 18 and 22,

but there was no way of telling.



    Nuzzling his face against the back of Stan's neck, Adam kissed his

shoulder. He  moved his  hand lower over Stan's stomach, down into his

crotch. Taking  Stan's limp cock in his hand, Adam caressed it gently,

peeling back  the ample foreskin and rubbing the head between his fin-

ger and thumb. Stan moaned in his sleep.



    Adam smiled  to himself as he felt Stan's cock react to the stimu-

lation, the  shaft swelling and growing, blood flowing rapidly, stiff-

ening it  to its full six and a half inches. Stan moaned again, drift-

ing slowly towards full consciousness as Adam played lovingly with his

dick.



    Stan rolled  onto his  back, and  as he  did Adam  threw back  the

sheets, leaving  them both naked in the darkness. Adam knelt at Stan's

side and lowered his head to Stan's groin. He couldn't see his lover's

prick in  the dark  of the  bedroom, but  he could  feel the  radiated

warmth of  Stan's crotch  on his face and smell the heady, musky aroma

of his erection. Adam opened his lips, stuck out his tongue and licked

the bulbous  head of  Stan's penis.  Since the first night he'd stayed

with Stan, the night when Stan had blown his mind by blowing his cock,

Adam had  developed a liking for the taste of cock, for the feel of it

in his  mouth, and the strong smell of maleness you got when your face

was pressed into someone's pubic bush.



    Adam ran  his tongue  along the  thick vein  on the  underside  of

Stan's tool,  down as  far as  his balls and then back up to the silky

glans. As he did, he slid his hand between Stan's thighs and under his

buttocks, feeling for Stan's anus and slipping his finger in as far as

the knuckle. Stan moaned as Adam finger fucked him, in and out, deeper

and deeper.  Adam opened  his mouth  and took Stan's prick between his

lips, tasting  the salty dew of pre-cum which glistened at the tip. He

drew his  mouth along  the length  of Stan's cock, his tongue brushing

the shaft  as Stan  arched his  back off  the bed and thrust his organ

deeper in Adam's mouth.



    As he  ate Stan's  cock, Adam  reached down  between his own legs,

grasping his already wet penis and wanking himself quickly. He knew he

was near  to climax.  Releasing Stan's cock from his mouth, Adam swung

around, gently  took hold  of Stan's  head and  pressed his prick onto

Stan's lips.  Stan opened  his mouth,  but wasn't quite in time. Thick

milky spunk spurted from Adam's swollen dick onto Stan's face, running

over his  lips and  dribbling down his chin. Stan's tongue flicked out

as he  tried to  lick a  few tasty  gobbets of  cum from his lips, but

Adam's thrusting cock was in full spout, jet after jet of semen shoot-

ing into  his face.  Stan had  never known any guy cum as much as Adam

did. Eventually  his orgasm  subsided, and  he eased back, putting his

face next to Stan's and licking his own cum off.



    When Adam  had cleared away the last drop of his spunk from Stan's

chin he  resumed his  original position  and once  more gobbled Stan's

cock, quicker  this time, with added urgency. His own cock was wilting

quickly, and he was eager to snuggle up next to Stan in that warm won-

derful feeling which follows a good fuck. He sucked on the thick prick

in his  mouth, willing it to shoot. And within moments it did, pumping

spunk down  the back  of Adam's  throat in  one powerful constant jet.

Adam swallowed  the cum, savouring the saltiness of it, sucking Stan's

cock until every drop was extracted.



    Later they  lay in  each other's  arms, Stan  in a doze while Adam

stared up  at the ceiling. The bedroom was getting lighter as dawn ap-

proached, and he knew that soon Stan would get up and dressed and head

off to  the hospital.  That was when he would make his move. It wasn't

going to  be easy to leave Stan, in fact it would be hard to leave the

loving safety  he'd known  for the last couple of weeks, but he had to

do it. He'd never rest until he found out the truth about himself, and

he couldn't do that stuck here in Brighton. He had to go to Newcastle-

Upon-Tyne. The  phone number written on the crumpled piece of paper in

his wallet  must have meant something at some time; it was just a case

of finding out what.



    By 10.00  am Adam  was standing  at the  side of the A23 holding a

piece of  card on  which he'd written "London" in thick black letters.

He had  no alternative but to hitch-hike. With 11.73 in his pocket he

had to  save money  wherever he  could. No doubt Stan would have given

him some  cash if he'd asked, but pride wouldn't allow him to. And be-

sides, he knew that leaving would have been so much harder if Stan had

been home.  That was  why he'd  waited until  Stan was  at work before

sneaking out. He'd left him a letter on the kitchen table, in which he

tried to  explain everything,  how he felt and why he'd decided to go,

but even so he knew Stan would be a little hurt.



    Adam was  still thinking about Stan when a large articulated lorry

squealed to  a halt a couple of hundred yards from where he was stand-

ing. Picking  up the  ruck-sack containing his few meagre possessions,

Adam walked down to where the truck waited, engine throbbing, the pas-

senger door slightly ajar.



    "Going anywhere near London?" he asked the driver as he bobbed his

head inside the cab.



    The guy  behind the  wheel was  about 40, a large fellow, slightly

over-weight but  not grossly fat. His hair was in dire need of cutting

and hung in greasy strands over his forehead.



    "Sure, son," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Hop in. I'll take

you all the way."



    There was  something about the guy which made Adam nervous, but he

was desperate  for the  ride so, pushing his doubts to the back of his

mind, he  clambered into the cab and pulled the door closed. The truck

began to  move almost before he was in, as though the driver feared he

might change his mind.



    "My name's Billy," the driver said. "What's yours?"



    "Adam," Adam replied.



    The guy  was wearing  jeans and  a dirty  white T-shirt,  and Adam

couldn't help  noticing that  Billy's fly was undone. "Fuckin' hot to-

day, ain't it?" Billy muttered, scratching his crotch absent-mindedly.



    Adam grunted  and half-smiled.  He didn't like the guy, but didn't

want to lose his lift, so he decided to play it cool and keep the con-

versation down  if at  all possible. They rode on for the best part of

half an  hour, Billy  chattering away,  almost every  other word being

"fuck" or  some derivation.  Adam kept quiet and just smiled occasion-

ally.



    At a  point in the road just before the A23 grew up and became the

M23, Billy  spun the wheel and turned the truck into a lay-by, cutting

the engine and turning towards his passenger.



    "Well?" he asked.



    Adam frowned. "Well, what?"



    Billy looked  annoyed. "Well, aren't you gonna pay for the fuckin'

ride?"



    "I'm sorry,"  Adam shrugged,  "but I've no money. That's why I was

hitching in the first place."



    "Fuckin' 'ell," Billy spat. "I don't want fuckin' money, arsehole.

I meant pay for the ride the usual fuckin' way"



    "What way's  that?" Adam  asked, although  he already  had a  good

idea.



    Billy shot him a look which plainly showed he thought Adam was de-

liberately stalling,  then, without  a word,  he slid  his hand across

Adam's muscular  thigh and  squeezed the  bulge in  his crotch. "Feels

good," Billy said, grinning. "Got a big dick, have you?"



    Adam attempted  a smile, but failed. "I never had any complaints,"

he muttered,  trying to  keep his voice steady. Billy removed his hand

from Adam's crotch and leered knowingly.



    "Why don't  we get  up in the sleeping quarters back there?" Billy

said, with  a nod  to indicate  a section  of the cab behind the seats

which was  separated by a curtain. "You can show me what a big boy you

are, and  then we  can work  out how you're going to pay me for giving

you a lift."



    Adam looked  at Billy carefully. He was hardly Tom Cruise, in fact

he looked  more like Danny de Vito, except that he must have been well

over six  foot tall and probably weighed in at around 16 stone. Had he

any choice  in the matter Adam would never have chosen Billy as a sex-

ual partner,  but the  way things were shaping up Adam didn't have any

choice.



    "Okay," Adam  said, attempting to feign innocence. "As long as you

understand that I've never done anything like this before."



    Billy's grin widened, which made Adam's stomach churn for some in-

explicable reason.  "That's okay be me," he said. "A nice fuckin' vir-

gin lad. Ain't that a fuckin' treat?"



    Billy cut the engine and parted the curtains behind the seats. The

sleeping quarters were just as Adam would have imagined them: one long

bunk spread  on which  were sheets  that had  turned cream with age, a

couple of  pillows, and  a tiny unit on which Billy had placed a tran-

sistor radio  and a  couple of  small plastic boxes containing various

sorts of food.



    But it  was the walls of the cab which surprised Adam most. He as-

sumed that  most macho  lorry drivers  would have  a few lurid pin-ups

around for  the purpose  of masturbatory aids on long nights away from

home, but  Billy's cab was literally plastered from wall to wall. Full

frontals of  busty girls, some blonde, some brunette, a few with flam-

ing red  hair, some  acting coy,  some brazenly  fingering themselves,

large tits, small tits, and every size in between.



    Strange, Adam  thought, as  he scrambled  up onto  the  bunk.  Why

should Billy choose to cover his walls with female nudes, and yet pick

up guys on the road for sex? To keep up the macho image, perhaps?



    Billy followed Adam into the sleeping quarters and pulled the cur-

tains closed  behind him.  Adam noticed  that he was already getting a

hard-on; his  cock was  pushing against  his underpants  which in turn

were bulging  out through  his open  fly, making  him look ludicrously

like a deformed rhinoceros. Adam resisted the temptation to laugh.



    "I must  say I  do like the fuckin' way you fill out those jeans,"

Billy said,  sitting on the edge of the bunk and running his hand over

Adam's thigh.  His other hand was playing with the "rhino horn" in his

crotch. Adam  lay on  his back,  arms at his side, feeling a bit silly

and wondering what he should do.



    "Let's see what you've got in there," Billy muttered, reaching for

the zip on Adam's jeans and tugging it roughly.



    Adam's jeans were tight, making it a little difficult for Billy to

open them  as quickly  as he  would have  liked, but  after a  certain

amount of  fumbling and quite a lot of cursing, he managed to peel the

denims down  Adam's muscular  thighs, quickly  followed by  the  small

white cotton  briefs Stan  had bought  for him one day while they were

shopping.



    Adam lay there motionless, his jeans down around his knees and his

T-shirt shoved  up around  his chest,  while Billy ogled his genitals.

"Oh, fuckin'  'ell, son," he muttered, gazing in wonder at Adam's limp

uncut cock. "That's fuckin' lovely."



    Billy reached out and grasped Adam's thick warm prick, peeling the

foreskin back  to reveal  the silky pink head. Billy squeezed his fist

around the  limp shaft, causing Adam to grimace and gasp with pain. As

though spurred  on by  the expression  of hurt  on Adam's face, he re-

leased the  boy's penis  and slid  his hand  down around  his scrotum,

feeling Adam's  large heavy  balls through  the wrinkly  skin with his

finger and thumb.



    "Bet them  balls hold  a lot  of fuckin'  spunk, eh?"  he  grinned

sleazily. Then,  without warning,  he squeezed  Adam's  left  testicle

hard.



    Adam cried  out with pain and shock. "Shit! What're you doing?" he

gasped.



    "Don't be such a fuckin' baby," Billy spat with disgust. "I didn't

hurt you that much!"



    Adam was  angry. "Oh,  no?" he said, starting to get up. "Well you

aren't going to get a second chance. I'm not into that kind of stuff."



    He bent  forward to  pull up  his jeans, taking his eyes off Billy

for just the briefest moment. And at that precise moment Billy let fly

with a  right hook with caught Adam square on the chin and knocked him

back onto the bunk. Then he slammed his massive fist into Adam's face,

bursting his lip and loosening a tooth. Dazed, Adam sank onto his back

again, tasting blood in his mouth, his mind swimming.



    "No little  fucker is  gonna get  away without  payin' his  dues,"

Billy said,  grabbing Adam  roughly and pulling him half off the bunk.

He was amazingly strong.



    Adam felt  himself being half-lifted, half-turned until he was ly-

ing on  his stomach  on the bunk, his legs hanging off the end and his

bare behind up in the air. He knew what was happening, and in his daze

tried to  get up  again. Billy  grabbed a  handful of blonde hair, and

smashed Adam's head into the metal wall at the back of the bunk.



    Billy pinned  Adam down, holding his arms by the wrists behind his

back so  that he couldn't move, and, with his free hand, he unfastened

his own  jeans and pushed them down. His dirty white underpants bulged

obscenely, and it was perhaps a good thing that Adam couldn't see what

he was  about to feel. Like the rest of him, Billy's cock was massive,

fully eight  inches when  erect, as  it was  as he pushed his Y-fronts

down and  released it  from it's  restriction. He stroked it lovingly,

nuzzling the  fat dick-head  up against  the warm  cleavage of  Adam's

arse.



    When he'd been staying with Stan they'd talked about anal sex, but

Adam hadn't  been quite  ready.  His  sexual  awareness  was  building

slowly, and  they'd spent  their time  making love orally. Billy obvi-

ously was  not prepared  for anything  but a good hard fuck, and as he

held the  boy down  he thrust  with his hips, Adam's anus resisting at

first, then  yielding to the terrific pressure from Billy's huge dick.

The anus lips gave way and Billy's swollen cock slipped in a fraction.

Adam let out a cry of pain and gritted his teeth. Undaunted, the lorry

driver thrust  again, slamming  his cock  deeper, then  again,  deeper

still. Adam  felt like  his arse  was on  fire. Hot  burning pain shot

through his guts and made the pain from his busted lip seem insignifi-

cant.



    Billy's cock  filled Adam, and under different circumstances could

have been  quite pleasant.  But Billy  was vicious in his love-making,

ramming his  prick up the boy without heed to the pain he was causing,

intent only  on his  own gratification.  He thrust  and  thrust,  cock

throbbing and eager, his fat hairy balls crashing against Adam's upper

thighs. How long it went on Adam was unaware. Mercifully his mind shut

off, leaving Billy to grunt and thrust to his heart's content.



    When Billy  came it was explosive. His cock burst inside Adam in a

fountain of  cum, thick  and milky  and hot,  and as he climaxed Billy

slapped Adam's  buttocks like  a rider would to a horse. Still he con-

tinued the fuck Adam, even as his dick started to wilt and soften, un-

til, at last, he could no longer keep it in and had to withdraw.



    "Now get yourself together and fuck off outta my cab!" he shouted,

pulling up  his jeans  and dirty underpants. Adam was only barely con-

scious.



    "I said  fuck off  outta my  cab," Billy repeated when Adam didn't

move.



    Roughly, he grabbed at Adam's jeans and briefs and yanked them up,

not bothering  to fasten them. Then he man-handled him to the front of

the cab,  opened the passenger door and pushed the dazed kid out. Adam

let with a sickening thud on the asphalt of the lay-by.



    Adam lay  there for  a while,  eyes closed  and head  spinning. He

heard the sound of the lorry's engine starting up, then got a blast of

fumes as  Billy pulled  back into  the stream  of traffic on the road.

Aware of his condition, Adam somehow fought to stand up and managed to

stagger to  the shelter of the trees at the roadside, his ruck-sack in

hand. The shade of the trees was cool in the hot midday June sun. Adam

collapsed in  a heap  at the foot of a large oak, and at last his mind

gave up the ghost. He drifted off into unconsciousness...



    Greg watched  the birds flutter and flap as he approached, tractor

engine chugging  away as  he turned  the soil in the big field. To his

left the  A23 ran  like a  sleek black river, just visible through the

thick tangle of trees and bushes.



    Several times  as he  ploughed back  and forth  he thought  he saw

something white  in the greenery, but just as quickly it was hidden by

the foliage  again so he shrugged it off. But the closer he got to the

road, the  more he  was convinced there was something... or someone...

in the bushes.



    "Probably that tramp," he muttered. "Dirty old bugger!"



    As he  passed, he  stopped the tractor, put the gears into neutral

and climbed  down. The bushes were thick, but he was certain there was

someone there. He could definitely see something white, some clothing,

but whoever  was wearing  it seemed  to be  lying down. It must be the

tramp.



    "Come outta there," he called from a safe distance. "I know you're

hiding."



    No reply.  "Come on,  I ain't  got all day to mess around with the

likes of  you," he  yelled, glancing  at his watch. It was late after-

noon, and  already the sun had begun to dip down in the deep cloudless

blue of  the western  sky. When  no response  came Greg gingerly edged

forward, picking  up a length of branch which had broken off and using

it to  part the  bushes. The  contrast between the bright sunlight and

the dim shade made it hard for Greg to see, but he could just make out

a vague  figure lying  face down on the ground. The guy wasn't moving,

and, judging  from the  whiteness of  the T-shirt, it certainly wasn't

Old Alf, the tramp.



    "Hello?" Greg  asked, not  really expecting  a reply. "Are you al-

right?"



    Still no  answer. Casting  caution to  the wind, Greg stepped for-

ward, pushing  the bushes  aside with his body, and clambered into the

shadows. The figure was a young guy, tall and blonde, and from the way

he was lying Greg could just see his handsome face. There was blood on

his mouth  and chin,  and angry red bruises on his cheek and forehead.

The guy had obviously been beaten up.



    Greg knelt  down beside  the prone  body, and as he did he noticed

for the first time that the boy's jeans were open. With a flush of ex-

citement (which  made him feel slightly guilty because of the state of

the guy)  he saw  that the  denim was loose and baggy across the boy's

behind which  was only covered by a skimpy pair of white briefs empha-

sising the  upper half  of his  firm round buttocks. Greg tried not to

think about that.



    Gently he  turned the  boy over onto his back, once again glancing

down towards  the lower  half of  his torso. The boy's fly gaped wide,

and as  he peered Greg could just make out the thick tufts of wiry pu-

bic hair  inside. Feeling  like a  voyeur, and embarrassed in case the

boy woke up, Greg quickly zipped up the young man's fly and lifted him

into a sitting position, supported against Greg's body.



    The boy's  eyes opened,  startlingly blue and clear. "Where am I?"

he asked. "Who are you?"



    "I found  you here in the bushes," Greg said, genuinely concerned.

"Did someone beat you up?"



    Suddenly it came back to Adam: the lift with the lorry driver, the

assault, the  feeling of  helplessness and fear. He made an attempt to

stand up  and almost  collapsed. "I've  got to  go," he  said, tasting

blood in his mouth. "I've got to find somewhere to clean up."



    "You're in  no fit  state to  go anywhere  on your own like that,"

Greg said,  catching him  as he  swayed. "I know a place where you can

rest and wash up. It ain't much, but it's quiet and you can stay until

you feel better."



    Greg helped  the boy  towards the tractor in the field, its engine

still ticking over noisily. "My name's Greg by the way, what's yours?"

    "My name's Adam."



    Twenty minutes later Greg stopped the tractor outside a large ram-

bling wooden  building. It  looked like  an over-sized  shed, and Adam

knew instinctively that it certainly wasn't used on a daily basis, the

slightly run-down appearance and missing boards told him that much.



    "What is this place?" he asked as Greg helped him down.



    "It used  to be  where the farmer stored the grain and animal feed

over winter,"  Greg muttered,  pushing open a creaky wooden door. "But

now he's  got a new one nearer the farm-house, so it don't get used at

all now.  But it's  dry, and  there's water  from a  stand-pipe, so  I

reckon it'd  do for  you to  rest up  a bit until you feel like moving

on." They  stepped through  the door into a small 'hut' built onto the

side of  the huge  building. Surprisingly,  it wasn't  as dirty or de-

crepit as  Adam expected. There was a stand-pipe in one corner with an

empty aluminium  bucket beneath  it, several  cupboards which reminded

Adam of  a garden shed, a few big brown jackets hanging up which, pre-

sumably, the  workers wore, and in the far corner Adam noticed a small

fold-away bed.



    "Sit down on the bed," Greg said, nodding towards the corner.



    Adam shook  his head.  "Not until  I've cleaned  up a bit." He re-

garded Greg shrewdly. "Did you fasten my jeans?"



    Greg blushed slightly. "Er.. yes."



    Adam lowered  his eyes. "Thanks," he said, lamely. There was a mo-

ment of  mutual embarrassment  as they  regarded each other carefully,

Adam wondering just how much Greg had seen and Greg wondering how much

Adam had suffered.



    After a  moment Greg  looked out  through the dirty windows of the

hut at  the lowering  sun. "I  have to  get back with the tractor," he

said. "Stay  here for a while. I'll come back later with some food and

we can talk. There's a couple of clean cloths you can use as towels if

you want to wash."



    "Okay," Adam said, as Greg disappeared out of the door.



    Outside, Greg  was just about to climb up onto the tractor when he

realised he  hadn't mentioned  the oil  lamp to Adam. It might well be

after sunset  when he  returned, and  he didn't  want to leave the guy

sitting in the dark when there was adequate lighting.



    Turning back,  he threw  open the  door of the hut and took a step

inside. Adam  was just  stepping out of his jeans, the white cotton of

his briefs  stretched tight  across his  perfect buttocks.  He  looked

round as Greg re-entered, but he made no attempt to cover himself.



    "I just wanted to say that there's an oil lamp and some matches in

that first  cupboard there," he said, pointing. "It might be dark when

I get back."



    "Right," Adam smiled. "Thanks."



    Greg closed  the door,  pausing for  just a  moment  then  peeking

through the murky glass of the hut's small window. As he watched, Adam

slipped his  briefs down his muscular legs, exposing his behind in all

its magnificent  glory. Greg's heart thumped in his chest, and between

his legs  he felt  the familiar  twitching of  his cock.  Rubbing  his

crotch gently, Greg clambered back up on the tractor and drove off.



    He returned  at eight-thirty  that night. The sun was just dipping

over the  far horizon, turning the sky a deep purple red. As he walked

he thought  about the sight of Adam, half-naked through the hut's win-

dow. If he was lucky....



    As he  opened the  door Adam was seated on the fold-away bed, legs

crossed at  the ankles  as he leaned back against the wall. Out of the

corner of his eye Greg noticed a pair of briefs, still wet, hanging on

one of the coat-hooks.



    "Hi," he  said, handing  Adam a  plastic container. "I brought you

some food."



    Adam took  it gratefully,  wolfing down  the sandwiches and apples

the container held. As Adam ate they chatted, or at least Greg chatted

and Adam  listened. It  seemed to  Adam that  Greg knew just what he'd

been through,  almost as if there was some kind of telepathic link be-

tween them.  As though Greg had been waiting for a long time for some-

one like Adam.



    "You know,"  Adam said,  finishing off  his apple. " I wasn't just

beaten up."



    Greg looked  down at  the floor.  "I'd assumed more than that hap-

pened because of the way your jeans were unfastened."



    Adam started to talk, and this time it was Greg who stayed silent.

Adam told him everything, from the early days in hospital, about Stan,

and about  the assault.  Greg looked  at him with soft brown eyes, his

innocent young face filled with sympathy, and Adam knew they were kin-

dred spirits.



    "I used  to have a friend like Stan," Greg said, brushing his long

curly dark  hair back  from his forehead. "But he moved overseas, Ger-

many I think."



    "Stan was good to me," Adam murmured, absent-mindedly stroking his

own leg. "So gentle."



    "You know,  it doesn't have to hurt," Greg said, smiling tenderly.

"It can be quite exciting."



    Adam gazed into his eyes. "Show me."



    Greg stood  up and with one swift fluid movement raised his sweat-

shirt up  over his head and off. In the rapidly fading light, Adam saw

that Greg's body was as smooth and hairless as his own, his large pink

nipples standing  out erect  from his unblemished chest. Quickly, Greg

kicked off his sneakers and peeled the zip of his jeans down, hesitat-

ing for  just a  moment before  pushing his baggy pale blue jeans down

around his  ankles to  reveal a  small pair  of light blue pants whose

pouch strained  to contain  his throbbing  manhood and  Adam smelt the

musky man-smell  he had  savoured so  much from  Stan. He  peeled them

slowly down,  stepped out  of them,  and stood  before Adam naked. His

large semi  erect cock  standing out from his crotch obscenely. Naked,

he looked younger than his years.



    Adam began  to undress,  removing his T-shirt as Greg stepped for-

ward and  put his  hands on  Adam's thighs.  The denim of Adam's jeans

stretched tight  across his  powerful legs,  and Greg  moved his hands

slowly upwards,  to his crotch, as he felt for the zipper and eased it

down, releasing  Adam's already  swelling penis.  He pulled  at Adam's

jeans, drawing  them down  his legs  and off over his bare feet. Then,

casting them  to one side, Greg dropped to his knees in front of where

Adam sat  on the camp bed and lowered his lips to Adam's stomach. Greg

kissed the  soft, ticklish  flesh of  his underbelly, then, surprising

Adam, he  brought his mouth upwards towards Adam's chest, his warm wet

tongue eager  to search  out Adam's nipples, finding them, licking and

teasing them.



    Adam stroked Greg's hair, raising the boy's head up so their faces

were level enough to kiss. Adam pulled Greg to him, pressing his mouth

against Greg's  soft full  lips. Their tongues danced together wildly,

saliva mingling,  and as  they kissed  Adam ran  his hand  down Greg's

chest and  belly and  into his  groin. He grasped his cock, pulling on

the thick hard shaft as he pressed his lips harder against Greg's.



    Encouraging Greg  to stand up, Adam ran his tongue down the length

of Greg's  young body, down into the thick forest of curls between his

legs, licking  at the  long warm  shaft of  Greg's prick,  tasting the

juices that  oozed wetly  at the  tip. He parted his lips and took the

whole of Greg's erection in his mouth, stroking its underside with his

tongue, smelling the muskiness of the boy's crotch.



    Greg placed  his hands  against Adam's  head and,  easing his hips

back and  forth, began  to slide  his dick in and out of Adam's mouth,

fucking his  face eagerly.  Adam relished  the taste  of the  hot hard

cock, the  faint aroma  of urine,  the saltiness  of pre-cum.  He  had

learned from his experiences with Stan that he had only one preference

sexually; the warm body of another male next to his.



    Drawing his  prick out  of Adam's  mouth, Greg eased him back onto

the bed,  and kneeling  between his  legs, lowered  his face to Adam's

crotch. He licked at Adam's dick, wetting the thick hard shaft, paying

particular attention to the silky cock-head. Saliva ran down the shaft

into Adam's pubic bush.



    Straddling Adam,  Greg held  Adam's dick vertical so that the head

was nuzzled  against the  lips of  his anus, and, closing his eyes, he

gently lowered  his body, impaling himself on Adam's massive organ. He

felt the swollen head penetrate him, then a little of the thick shaft,

then more.  The feeling  of being  filled, like  wanting to  go to the

bathroom yet  somehow excitingly  different, overcame him. He was full

of Adam's cock... they were united.



    He began to ride him like a horse, up and down, harder and harder,

his bare  buttocks crashing  against Adam's hips as he bounced around.

Adam groaned  out loud, gasping with unknown pleasure at the sensation

of Greg's  tight arsehole  around his  tool. Greg's  dick swung around

crazily as  they fucked,  and Adam  grabbed it, pulling the shaft hard

which was  wet with  pre-cum, wanking  it as  Greg blindly rose up and

down on his cock.



    They came  at almost  the same second, Greg's dick spewing a thick

jet of  warm spunk  onto Adam's  belly as  Adam's cock  erupted inside

Greg's anus, each of them wild with passion, dicks spurting, cum pump-

ing out  endlessly. When  their orgasms  faded, Greg climbed off Adam,

and sank next to him on the camp bed. They kissed, then slept awhile.



    They made love again later, by the glow of the oil lamp, two naked

young lovers  unashamed of  their sexuality.  At a  little before mid-

night, Greg got up and pulled on his clothes, Adam watching sadly.



    "Do you have to go?" he asked. "Can't you stay all night?"



    Greg smiled and stuck his head into his sweatshirt. "I told you, I

live with my parents. They'd be worried if I didn't go home."



    "Will I see you tomorrow?"



    Greg shrugged.  "I can only come round after work, say about seven

o'clock."



    Adam shook  his head.  "I have to get to Newcastle," he said. "I'm

gonna have  to make  an early  start, so I'll most likely be gone when

you finish work."



    Greg leaned  forward and kissed him. "Then I'll say 'bye now. Take

care." Adam  watched him  slip out  of the  door, pausing  a second to

glance back just for a moment. Then he was gone.



    Adam spent  the night sleeping fitfully, dreaming bad dreams about

rape and  pain and  violence. When the morning came he dressed quickly

and left,  making his  way through the fields quickly until at last he

reached the A23.



    It wasn't  long before  a car  stopped, a large blue Granada which

screeched to  a halt  a little  along the  road from  him. At first he

wasn't sure  he was  being picked up, but when the passenger door flew

open he  knew he'd  struck lucky.  He ran  down the  hard shoulder and

leaped into the plush interior.



    The driver  was about  45, but  youngish looking  with silver-grey

hair and  a warm  smile, and  suddenly Adam knew he was going to enjoy

this lift...

--



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