Part 3 of the story of D'n'M, just like Parts 1 and 2, includes sex between teenage boys, some of it non-consensual. As before, it is the characters themselves and how they react to events that are key to whatever success the story achieves.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at:
pjalexander1753@gmail.com
PJ
D'n'M Part 3
From Chapter 14:
Dan turned over and reached under the bed for his trusty Mickey Mouse cum rag (yes, the very same) and wiped his sticky hand. Milo could hardly believe it, not only had D jerked him off so awesomely but he'd taken his whole load in his hand and calmly wiped it off. Yes, this truly was a priceless friendship and he could hardly believe that he was one half of it.
"I love you, D.".
"I love you too, M. Now go back to sleep."
Chapter 15:
Milo's body alarm was accurate to within a couple of minutes. Four days each week, at 5.30 a.m., it propelled him from fully asleep to something like awake, more or less ready to get up, get dressed and get to the pool in time for morning practice. But not this morning. This morning there would be no Milo at morning practice, something he'd made up his mind about the previous evening, so that meant there was no need for Milo to do the `get up, get dressed and get to the pool' items on the list. After yesterday's skin-crawling experience in the shower he could hardly imagine himself ever getting in the pool again. On the other hand, he could imagine, only too clearly, how the other guys involved would have spread the news of his refusal to join in the circle jerk and subsequent humiliating exit. Dods, in particular, couldn't fail to have told all the other CB's that Milo no longer deserved his place in their number.
D, too, was awake early but that had nothing to do with the lure of the swimming pool and everything to do with the demands of his morning wood signalling an urgent need to pee. As he rolled over to get out of bed he noticed an unfamiliar smell on his right hand. Bringing it closer to his nose he recognised the odour of dry cum, but not his own. Then he remembered last night's consolation jerk-off and realised that Mickey Mouse hadn't mopped up all of M's output. He moved the hand to his mouth and tentatively licked his palm. Still salty. Interesting, but further reflection would have to wait as his bladder was sending increasingly agitated messages about needing to be emptied.
On returning to bed he saw that M was awake. He looked, well, D wasn't quite sure how he looked. Embarrassed, maybe? Then he thought again about the jerk-off. He wondered if, in the light of morning, M was feeling uncomfortable about last night's activities.
"Morning M. How you feeling today?"
"Okay, I guess." The reply was hesitant. It confirmed Dan's suspicions.
"M, if you're feeling awkward about what happened last night then don't. What happened happened because I wanted it to happen. It was my choice. Like I said, I wanted you to have something good to remember from a pretty shitty day. That's all there was to it. If a guy can't do something to cheer up his best bud, then it's a sad old world. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"
"You know I did. It was awesome."
"There you are then. Nothing to feel bad about."
Dan looked at the clock.
"Aren't you gonna be late for practice?" he asked. He was totally familiar with M's routine.
"Not going," was the suddenly terse reply.
"You sure? I thought this was your last chance to get an individual start in the tournament."
"I won't be in the tournament."
This didn't sound good. M had been focused on nothing other than the upcoming competition for months. Dan knew he was really keen to get an individual swim, not just a relay slot. "Oh. Wanna talk about it?"
"After yesterday."
"You mean what happened with Zephan? How will anyone on the swimming team know anything about that? And what's it got to do with whether you swim or not anyway?"
"Not Zephan, the showers. It was so not cool. Even if I wanted to swim the other guys wouldn't want me, not after ... well, you know."
"Nah, I think you're over-thinking it, as usual, and being too hard on yourself, and those other guys. Just because you didn't want to join in a circle jerk doesn't mean they won't want you on the team. They want to win, and if you can help them do that then they'll want you in, jerk-off or no jerk-off."
"And what if they've put two and two together and worked out that I'm gay? Even more reason for then not to want me anywhere near them."
It was obvious that Milo had made up his mind not to swim and had lined up a whole string of reasons to justify that decision. Dan, however, was not willing to see his friend give up so easily on something he'd set his heart on.
"I don't reckon being gay would make any difference to the other guys. At least, not to most of them. Tom told me there were gay guys on the team when he was captain."
Milo's ears pricked up. Did D know the story Dods had told him?
"Did Tom tell you any more than that?"
"No, just that it had been an issue for a while and then it wasn't any more."
"Yeah well, from what Dods told me it wasn't as simple as that."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Dods told me about what happened once to a couple of gay guys on the team and how they got done over by other members of the team and the amazing way Tom sorted it."
"Wow, I never knew that. What happened exactly, did he tell you?"
Milo proceeded to re-tell the story, pretty much exactly as Dods had told it to him, ending with the mystery of who had ratted on the two gay guys in the first place.
Dan was seriously impressed with his big brother. "Good for Tom. It sounds as if he really got things sorted."
Milo nodded his agreement.
"But don't you see," continued Dan, "Tom made it okay to be gay and on the swimming team. You don't have anything to be worried about. The other guys will only be interested in how fast you can swim, not whose dick you want to suck! Ow!"
Dan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his upper arm. Milo had punched him with some force.
"That's gross, even worse than you being desperate to get your hands on Beth Harper's tits." He followed up the punch by using his feet to push Dan out of the bed. "Now get up and leave me be. Finish your homework (Dan always left it to the last minute) and go to school like a good boy." Then he turned over to make it completely clear that the conversation was over.
"And what if anyone asks why you weren't at practice?"
"Just tell them to mind their own business. Or make something up, I don't care." With that he pulled the covers over his head and disappeared from view.
A couple of hours later, when Milo was no longer fully asleep but quietly dozing, there was a knock on the bedroom door. He was surprised and not really sure what to do. Luckily he was saved from having to make a decision as the door opened and Helen Reed looked in.
"Morning M. You okay?"
"Oh, hi Mrs. R. Yeah, fine."
"Dan's gone to school but there's breakfast downstairs in the kitchen if you want any. It's just cereal, fruit and muffins so help yourself as and when you feel like it."
Wow. No interrogation, no expectations, no awkward heart-to-heart. D didn't know how lucky he was. "Thanks. I'm gonna get up soon."
"There's no rush. Just when you're ready. Have a shower if you feel like it. If you need clean clothes just rustle up something of D's -- you're bound to find something suitable and pretty much the right size. It won't be the first time you've stayed over and ended up wearing something of his."
How true that was.
"That's true."
"I'll be off to the surgery soon but Mr. Reed is working at home today so you won't be on your own."
Crap! He's bound to know about the Zephan thing, Mrs. R is sure to have told him. Maybe he could stay hidden in D's room and not have to see Mr. R any time soon.
"Oh, and M, Roger knows about what happened with your cousin but you're not to worry about it. He completely agrees with me that it was not your fault, and he certainly doesn't judge you in any way. And in case you're wondering, I haven't told him anything about you liking boys -- that's for you to do when you feel ready. But he won't think any the less of you because of it, that I can guarantee."
What a relief. It was like coming up for air after being under water for just that little bit too long.
"Thanks Mrs. R. You don't know what that means to me. And thanks for ... well, everything."
"No need to thank me, lovely boy, you've always got a place here whenever you want or need it. Oh, and one last thing, well, two actually. Mr. R left a message for your dad last night so he's hoping to hear back from him today. Is it okay for him to tell your dad what happened at home yesterday?"
His dad. He'd hardly given him a thought. Milo nodded. Better hearing about it first from Mr. R. Give him a chance to find out from D's dad how his own dad reacts and then take it from there.
"Fine. I'll let him know before I leave for work. And the last thing, promise me you won't think about going back home until either me or Roger can go with you, so we can make sure everything is, well, safe."
Going home? That was something else he hadn't thought about. Just the idea of it made his heart beat faster, and not in a good way. Again he nodded.
"Good. Well, I'll see you later. Take your time and don't put yourself under any pressure. You don't instantly get over the sort of thing that happened to you yesterday."
The whole of this conversation had been taking place with Milo in bed on one side of the room and Helen at the door on the opposite side. She now crossed the room, kissed Milo gently on the forehead and then closed the door behind her on the way out. No, D definitely didn't know how lucky he was.
He lay there for a few more minutes, thinking over what D had said about the other members of the swimming team. Could it really be true that they wouldn't care about him being gay? Wouldn't they be weirded-out by it? After all, they spent virtually one hundred percent of their time together near enough naked. Wouldn't they think he was scoping them out all the time or planning to jump them? Crap! Why was it all so complicated? Someone should write a book -- The Idiot's Guide to Being Gay or How to be an Out Gay Teenager Without Getting Beaten Up. The trouble was, no-one would have the guts to go into a book shop to buy it. Yeah, it was all pretty complicated.
It was half way through the morning by the time Milo decided it was time to face the world, or at least, Mr. R. He couldn't put it off forever. Okay, so Mrs. R had said he was cool with everything but then, she was a grown up. They saw things differently. His recent experience didn't fill him full of confidence that parents could be trusted.
He made his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off and stepping in once it was hot enough. Being naked, a teenage boy and touching his dick - for cleaning purposes, naturally -- it wasn't long before Milo's thoughts returned to the events of the previous night. D had jerked him off. Who'd have thought it possible? And not only jerked him off but caught his whole load in his hand. Incredible. And it had felt so good -- literally a dream cum true! And thoughts like that inevitably lead to action, boning-up action. And boning-up in the shower, when you're fifteen years old and thinking about being jerked-off by your best friend, can only have one response - rapid up and down hand action, heavy breathing and large amounts of cum splashing onto the shower wall. Aah! That was an awesome way to kick-start the day. The teenage dick is a wonderful thing thought Milo, as he came down from his orgasmic high. It's a shame that you only get one. Think how much fun you could have with two!
He shut off the water, stepped out of the shower and quickly dried himself off. He cleaned his teeth (he'd kept a tooth brush at D's for years) and wandered naked back into the bedroom. He glanced at himself in the full-length mirror on the wall. Yeah, even if he said so himself, he looked pretty good. All those hours in the pool had shaped his body into the model of a near-perfect swimming machine. His wide shoulders and defined chest tapered down to a flat stomach and narrow hips. His butt was muscular but not overly pronounced and his legs were lean, long and strong. He'd also been blessed with large hands and feet, so moving rapidly through the water came very naturally to him. What a shame all this potential was going to go to waste. But it couldn't be helped, he knew where he wouldn't be wanted.
Helen had been right about Milo and D's clothes. There had been many occasions in the past when he had ended up wearing something belonging to his friend. As children it had usually been because they'd both got dirty on one of their adventures in the woods or down by the river which skirted the development where they lived. More recently it had been due to the need to shower after spending hours at the skate park or playing a pick-up game of soccer with their friends. So, yes, Milo was familiar with the range of D's clothing choices and he wouldn't find it difficult to find something suitable. But something about making that choice today felt odd, different. Maybe it was just the fact that D wasn't there to make suggestions, like the time he'd persuaded the thirteen-year old Milo to wear a pair of vivid pink shorts that had lurked, unwanted and unworn, in the back corner of a drawer for years, and for good reason as they made Milo look like a gaudy advert for candy floss or an attendee at a 1950's religious convention. And what made it worse was that D had taken a photo of Milo in the offending garment and delighted in showing it around any time he felt the need to get back at Milo for some minor slight or annoyance. Thinking about it, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that D wasn't around. And then he realised why he was stalling for time -- underwear.
In the last few years their choices in underwear had taken very different paths. D had followed big brother Tom down the boxer brief route while Milo favoured Jockey and Hanes briefs, more or less continuing with the tighty whiteys of his childhood. But it wasn't the difference in style that was unnerving him, it was the prospect of choosing and wearing something that had enjoyed a very close relationship with D's junk that had him rattled.
But choose he must, if only because he couldn't spend the rest of the day standing naked in D's bedroom. He opened the underwear drawer. The contents were neatly arranged, socks on the left (balled in pairs), underwear on the right. Unusually neat for D. Maybe his mum still sorted and returned his laundry for him. Again, lucky D. From the array on the right Milo selected a pair of dark blue CK's. As he shook them out, ready to put them on, he noticed that the front panel still retained the bulge created by D's dick and balls. Crap! This was surreal. He placed first one, then the other leg through the waistband and into the leg openings. He pulled D's boxer briefs up his legs, over his butt and enclosed his own junk in them. He put a hand inside and made the necessary adjustments. His boyhood was now nestled exactly where D's usually rested. He cupped himself from the outside, running his fingers over the outline of his shaft. So cool. So exciting. So hardening.
Within seconds Milo was fully boned for the second time in less than half an hour. He turned and found himself, again, facing the full-length mirror. He looked at himself and his eyes immediately homed-in on the unfamiliar underwear. He looked ... sexy. Yes, that was the only word for it. He'd never thought of himself like that before but boxer briefs really suited him. Or was it just the fact that these were D's boxer briefs that made him think that he looked good? Whatever, the fact was that his rigid rod was clearly outlined, lined up diagonally, pointing towards his hip.
With no hesitation the waistband of D's underwear was hooked under Milo's bursting balls and his five plus neatly-cut boyhood was leaking pre-cum like a persistently-dripping pipe. He gripped the glistening rod and repeated the familiar stroking journey -- up, over the crimson head, down again -- until he felt his knees tremble, his breath quicken and the familiar warm tingle wash over him from his balls to his toes, from his dickhead to his fingertips. He watched himself in the mirror -- a first -- and was fascinated by the sight of raw sexuality staring back at him. Wow, he really was sexy. He was a sexual being. He was ... cumming!! Three, four, five bullets of prime teenage jizz shot out of his dick and hit the mirror, hit the other Milo, in an explosion of youth and exuberance.
That was hot!
As he came down from his second jerk-off high of the morning Milo watched his ejaculate slide down the glass and spread out in a line as it hit the edge of the frame. Glancing up he saw a huge smile being reflected back at him. If that was what wearing boxer briefs did for you, he was a convert. Perhaps he could persuade D to part with a couple of pairs, or would that be too weird? Yeah, probably.
Thanks to all those who have taken the time and trouble to write to tell me how they feel about this story. As ever I am very grateful for all feedback and promise to respond.
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