The following story describes people and places wholly fictional, although based on some element of reality. How much is really up to you to decide. There is a place called Ruthenia, but it is not the Rothenia depicted here. It won't take long for the alert reader to realise that my Rothenia is unapologetically borrowed from Anthony Hope's magnificent creation of Ruritania, although updated for the twenty-first century.
This is my third attempt at gay erotic fiction. The earlier ones are 'The Decent Inn' and 'Terry and the Peachers' which can be found in the Nifty archive under the College section. Excuse the self-indulgence of the crossover references, but they did amuse me.
The story contains graphic depictions of sex between adult males. If the reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your place of residence please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further. If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so.
And for those with an inclination to vomit, I have to warn you that this is fundamentally a romantic story written by a hopeless romantic.
II
'Sir!'
'Yes, Jake?'
'Sir, Ricky just put his hand on my knee.'
'Did not! Don't listen to him, sir!'
'Gay!' The class tittered at the cheap insult. Will seethed briefly.
But he mastered himself and heaved an internal sigh. 'Jake, Ricky.' His voice cracked out sharply, 'That's enough. Leave your romantic life, or lack of it, for the playground.'
'But sir ...'
'You were supposed to be looking at the Ten Commandments, if I'm right, and deciding which were relevant today. Yes?'
'Yes, but ...'
'Yes but nothing. Try this one for size. Thou shalt not disrupt my class or your days will not be long in the land.'
'Sir.' Quiet descended over Will's room. He taught Year 7 RE on Monday mornings, and he did not find it an easy start to the week, especially after this particular weekend. He was finding concentration difficult, for he was in a state not too far distant from what some might consider to be love.
He was a good teacher, interesting and organised, with, in general, an effortless control over his kids. His first year in schools had had one or two rough patches, but now he was in his second year; he knew the job and was well in control, except that his fascination with the Rothenian boy from the DVD was disturbing his equilibrium today. The kids maybe sensed it, in the way kids did, homing in on any weakness as if by instinct. It was a relief when the lesson bell went without further incident.
It was his precious free period. He gathered up some marking, locked his door and sought the staff room. One or two scattered colleagues were slumped around the room. He made a coffee and took up a table. But he knew marking was not going to be easy. His mind kept wandering off to graphic scenes of oral and anal sex playing and replaying in his head. He had seen the Rothenian boy doing every sexual act he could imagine and some he hadn't. His perfect body had been a trampoline for another twink. He saw him smiling round the other guy's cock; engaging in banal chitchat in a beautiful soft foreign language, translated in subtitles; saw his superb arse penetrated by fingers and a cock. How could such a body and -- yes -- such an intelligent-looking guy, get caught up in the porn industry? Will also had a name for his new obsession -- for Matthew White was now well and truly laid aside -- on the sleeve the Rothenian boy was credited as 'Marc Bennett'.
Will knew that this was a 'nom de porn', but it was a start. Just as with Matt White he had this frustrated need to engage with more than just the face and body of this gorgeous boy. He had to know more. Where did this boy live? How did he get into porn? Was he as bright as he looked? How old really was he?
A metasearch on the web turned up very little other than a couple more titles and calendars in which 'Marc Bennett' was a star. A brief pseudo-biography told him that he was six foot, a Capricorn, born in Rothenia, was twenty-two and had blue eyes. That was it. Same age and height as me, Will thought, although they perhaps had little else in common. He gritted his teeth and tried to blot out that smiling face and the sound of Marc Bennett's soft male voice talking, and panting in sexual congress. He began making ticks on the pages of Class 8E's exercise books, although he wasn't really reading them. He corrected the odd spelling error, just to make it look as though he had taken them in. Eventually he finished the pile and stretched.
A female voice from across the room enquired, 'Good weekend, Will?'
'Went up to London Saturday, Mary, but didn't do much other than wander round.'
'I was in town too. If I'd known we could have met up.'
'Sorry, Mary. I just wanted to do the bookshops. Oh well, maybe another time.' Mary Andrews, German and French, smiled a little regretfully and nodded. Will caught signals that Mary, who had joined the school the same time as him, was interested in him. A shame, of course. She was quite pretty, and he knew he was not bad looking for that matter, but they would never be a couple, even though the older staff seemed to imagine that a romance was inevitable.
Will took his coffee over to the first floor window and looked out across the fields of Berkshire, the dramatically steaming chimneys of Didcot power station on the far horizon. Whithampsted was a small market town with one secondary school, called Whithampsted Grammar as a nod to its distinguished history, although it was in fact a comprehensive. Still, it was a successful one with a good headteacher and it sent half a dozen kids every year to Oxford and Cambridge. He could be happy in this school, Will thought, and he already sensed that kids and colleagues alike approved of him. But he was not happy. The issue of his concealed sexuality taunted him and forced him into a self-imposed isolation. He could not get close to his younger male colleagues and he usually did not join their drinks nights and clubbing in Oxford and Reading. He found it hard to fake the heterosexual rutting instinct.
But one recent night out with the lads which had ended up with them all watching straight porn in a state of dazed drunkenness had given him the idea that had led him to the cellars of Soho. Now he could stay at home and wank, and he had the beginnings of a suitable porn collection to wank to.
By Thursday, Will had more or less masturbated himself into a sexual stupor. Every detail of 'Rothenian Boys 7' was imprinted on his brain, even the bits without Marc Bennett. He wanted more, which faintly alarmed him because he knew that porn was addictive and between rent, student debt, credit agreements and travel, he did not have a huge amount of money left to distribute to the benefit of the seedier end of the capitalist system.
Totally drained after a full day's timetable, he had sagged into unconsciousness as soon as he got home to his little rented flat above the newsagents in High Street. He was drooling when he abruptly awoke at half six. The TV was still on but muted. He microwaved some pizza and changed out of his suit. He showered and afterwards checked his dick, which was showing the signs of too much recent dry friction. He washed and soaped his inflamed and reddened foreskin and looked embarrassed at himself in the mirror. Brown, slightly anxious eyes stared back at him. But there was not much need for physical embarrassment. Will was a slim and by no means unpleasing man, pale skinned, and hairless on his upper body. He was not a hunk maybe, but he had worked out and run as a student, if not recently. He had powerful legs and firm pectoral muscles. Since starting teaching he had grown his thick dark hair over his ears; it looked good and he had been idiotically pleased to find that it curled at his nape, just like Matt White's did. Although perpetually lacking in social confidence, Will was at least confident that he was a reasonably attractive man, or he would be if he could lose the air of uncertainty that was a direct result, he felt, of living his concealed gay life.
At seven thirty he left for choir practice. One of his few regular social evenings was with the choir of the parish church of St Mary. The church had an ambitious director of music and a long tradition of choral excellence, so it attracted many of the local musicians and had full benches of boy choristers, many of them Will's pupils. It sang choral evensong and full eucharistic settings; the church was also a favourite for local weddings. Will was a pretty fine tenor, and had been in choirs since beginning university. He had been delighted to find that Whithampsted offered such an opportunity and the choir in turn was delighted to have a young and accomplished singer in these latter days when the number of male singers was dropping and true tenor voices were less common.
When he reached the vestry, the choir was already rehearsing. Will slid in next to Harry Baxter, one of the other two regular tenors. Harry gave him a swift grin, and Will caught up with the score: 'O Thou the Central Orb.' As they reached the final ascending bars they were soaring in perfect sync, enjoying the glorious line for all it was worth. The director directed a wry look at the pair as the anthem finished, 'Nice. But a little less tenor next time, please gentlemen.'
Harry and Will sniggered. Like all tenors, they knew they usually had the best and most high profile lines and they hammed it up to the hilt. By the time the practice finished, Will was thoroughly euphoric. It was a better high than any alcoholic or chemical substance had ever given him in his student days. Harry and he were riotous on the back row and were beginning to annoy the neighbouring altos.
Harry Baxter was a youngish solicitor working in a practice in Didcot. He lived near Whithampsted however. Will had got the idea that he was from a local family and that his father had been a solicitor before him. He was single, but the choir ladies thought he had a girlfriend in London. He certainly travelled a lot. He and Will adjourned with the basses and a few of the ladies to the Feathers opposite the church. Three beers maintained Will's sense of euphoria. Harry too seemed exceptionally jolly, and his scurrilous Whithampsted stories had the bar roaring. There was nobody to match a local solicitor in salacious and risky gossip. At ten people began drifting away. Will was for once reluctant for the evening to end, and when he and Harry were all that was left he surprised himself by offering his colleague a whisky at his flat, a few doors down. Harry happily agreed.
It was as Will pushed open the flat door that he finally remembered what had been nagging at the corner of his memory for an hour. There in the centre of his lounge coffee table lay in all its glory his copy of Gay Universe. Overwhelmed with shock he pushed in front of Harry and shifted a pile of exercise books on top of it in the guise of clearing the sofa. They didn't hide it, but he hoped that they obscured enough of the cover so it could be any glossy magazine.
Will recovered his poise, if not his euphoria, and poured them drinks. Harry sat on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table, while Will took the single armchair.
'That was a good night.' Will observed.
'It was great,' said Harry, 'What did you think of the latest Gay Universe then?' The bottom dropped out of Will Vincent's world.
'Uhh ... you saw it then.'
'Oh yeah,' but Harry was smiling. 'It's OK, Will, I buy it too. I am likewise gay.'
Will caught his breath. He paused and said, 'But you're not out, are you?'
Harry laughed, 'Out is an odd concept, y'know. My parents know nothing about it, nor do the people I work with, even if they suspect. Not that I could care. But gay is as gay does. I'm queer when I want and need to be. Out is a patchy concept, for me at least.'
'Wow.' Will looked with renewed attention at Harry. He was just past thirty, he reckoned. He was quite fit, with just a little thickening at the waist. He had crisp, well-tended blond hair and very well-selected casuals. He wasn't that good looking, but money had given him a certain glossy look. A nicely manicured and successful solicitor, or a middle class gay man: take your choice.
'I thought you were too, Will. I saw you eye up that young guy in the front pew last Sunday.'
Will remembered: it had been Robert Franks, just completed A Levels and as hot and shy an eighteen-year-old boy as you could dream of. He was just glad he didn't teach him at A Level. He could never have concentrated on the subject with that sort of babe in front of him. In church or not, he had been undressing the boy in his mind, and it had been very disturbing, especially when Robert had met his gaze and held it.
Harry continued with a question, 'Did you deliberately let me see your magazine?'
'Er ... no. If I did it was just subconscious, I suppose.'
Harry looked faintly disappointed. 'You really are barricaded into the closet aren't you, Will?'
'Just not ready to come out yet, I guess.'
'So you've never done it with another man.' It was a statement.
Will didn't want to answer that question. He'd never in fact had sex with anyone apart from his hand. In school it was too terrifying a thing to recognise his sexuality and act on it. In university he had not found a gay friend to be confident with, to help him out. So he didn't answer, and he was a little annoyed at a fleeting smile that passed across Harry's face. 'Scuse me, I need a refill.' He did too. His heart was racing. How was he going to deal with this? He felt like he ought to ask Harry to swear an oath of silence. Didn't doctors and lawyers have to keep things in confidence when asked?
As he put the bottle down, he knew that Harry had come up behind him, for his strong aftershave reached out to alert him. An arm folded round his waist. His breath stopped. A hand lifted the hair at the nape of his neck and a soft kiss was planted where it had been. Will had frozen. His hair was moved from over his right ear, and the lips nuzzled it, and then a tongue licked at the lobe. Sexual desire boiled unwanted in his groin. Harry pushed his crotch into Will's small rear; he felt the bar of Harry's erection. It was decision time. Well, why not? He had to lose it some time. Harry was at least experienced, or so he guessed.
Will turned in the older man's arms, and found a face smiling provocatively into his. Inexpertly and clumsily he engaged with Harry's lips. The tang of the whisky was on them, and Harry's tongue in retaliation forcefully took possession of his mouth, licking round inside him.
They broke contact. Harry gave him a very seductive look. 'Mmm. Nice. You want to go the whole way?'
Will, for all his fear, nodded abruptly.
'Good. You're quite a babe, William Vincent, even if you don't know it yet. And you've not done it before, have you?'
Still silent, not trusting his voice, Will shook his head. Harry looked at him, still smiling, he took Will's polo shirt and lifted it off. Will raised his arms to help him. Harry inspected his bare torso with approval. He stroked his left nipple with a thumb, causing Will to shudder slightly. He came closer, ran his hands down Will's back and pushed down below the waist band of his jeans, cupping a tight buttock. Will arched and groaned, it was as if every vein and artery in his body had swelled. Probably they had.
'Oh yeah,' Harry said softly, 'I want to hear more of that. Now, step out of your shoes, babe.' He expertly unbuttoned and pulled down Will's jeans and pants, pulling the socks off with them. And there he stood, quite naked for the first time with another man. He felt Harry's intense and appraising gaze. He felt his cock thicken and twitch under the other man's frank stare.
Harry smiled again. He pulled off his own shirt and stepped out of his shoes and socks. He closed again with Will and began a further exploration of his mouth. Will felt the warm, tight flesh of their chests rub together, and his cock sprang up between them. Harry's hand was at his crack and a finger began probing him intimately and persistently, though not painfully. Will suddenly began to be anxious about the consequences of his decision to go ahead with this.
Harry broke off, but he took and gently fondled Will's erection as they separated. Something exploded at the base of Will's spine. 'Relax, Will. I guarantee you'll love it. It won't be what you fear. Take my word for it. Now, have you got a lubricant?'
'Er no, not even a condom.'
'Well condoms are advisable, but you're a virgin and I'm clean. No honest. My last test was only a fortnight ago, after I got back from Greece where I did something stupid. I'll tell you about it later. We'll go bareback, if you believe me. As for the lack of lubrication ... well, I warn you that you may be sore afterwards down there. It's not the best way to break an ass in.'
'I believe you, Harry. I ... I want to trust you.'
Harry looked kindly into his eyes. 'Kid, you do say the sweetest things.' It was that kind look that finally persuaded Will that he was doing the right thing.
'Let's do it then.'
Harry took Will's hand and led him into his small bathroom. He saw the herbal handwash on the washbasin. 'Faut de mieux,' he muttered. ' Put your hands on the basin, babe,' he said, 'and separate your legs. We've got to open you up a bit, and it may take some time.' Will realised that Harry had taken control of him, but somehow he didn't resent it. Harry ran some water, and squirted handwash from the dispenser. 'Soap tends to burn inside you, Will. But this wash is going to be a lot milder. Let me know if it stings.'
Will felt slick fingers pull his buttocks apart. They began rubbing his anal lips gently and tenderly, he arched and gave out a long, 'Oooh.'
'Good isn't it?'
'Aw yeah, it is.'
'Enjoy it, kid. You're going to get a lot of it.' Will did. Harry spent a long time massaging his crack. He relaxed and enjoyed the wonderful sensations coming from his arse. Every now and then a finger tip tested his anus and after a while he felt a whole finger enter him. Another man's finger was in his bum! He could feel it moving. He tensed, but the slipperiness allowed Harry to slide into him easily and move about. Will liked it, a lot. After five minutes or so, he knew that two fingers were in him and were stretching his anal muscles. Still it didn't hurt; or at least not until three fingers probed him more insistently and deeply. He lifted on his toes.
'Uncomfortable?' came Harry's voice from behind him.
'A bit, but it's a different feeling.'
'You feel full?'
'Yeah, full, and my arse wants to close up.'
'Try pressing down, babe, as if you were crapping.'
'What if I do crap?'
'Can't feel anything in there, Will. You must have been recently.' Will thought about it, 'This morning in school.'
Harry got busy again. Soon he was moving his fingers in and out of Will quite easily, and Will was loving the sensation except that the fullness was wanting to make him pee.
'Can I pee?'
'Do it in the sink, babe.' Will complied, astonished at his sudden total lack of embarrassment at pissing in front of another man. A hot stream of yellow urine slightly relieved the anxiety of his stimulated prostate. Will ran the water to get rid of it. Harry rose behind him and kissed his neck again. 'Stage two,' he announced.
Leaving his bum wet and slick, Harry led him to the sofa and got Will to lean up against it on his knees. Will bent low on the cushions, sticking up his rear. He heard Harry's trousers fall to the floor. He guessed what was coming next. He had seen it happen to Marc Bennett. A warm and wet lapping began at his entry. He luxuriated in the sensation, but was intrigued by how muscular and insistent was Harry's tongue. A sharp slap on his right buttock surprised him, it also surprised his anal muscles, which stood by stunned as three fingers shot into him deeper than ever before.
'Ow,' he said, for there was pain now, even though it was not unbearable. The fingers flexed and turned in him, as the process of opening him up continued. Five minutes of it and the pain more or less passed.
'Hang on a sec,' Harry said. He disappeared and came back with Will's shaving mirror. 'Look down, kid.'
Will did, and saw the reflection of his wet anus as Harry pulled the buttocks apart, he could see a black hole where it lay relaxed and open. 'Now push down.' Will did and the damned thing winked at him. Harry laughed, and after a moment Will did too. He made it do it again, with a proud smile. Harry went back to licking and sucking on him, but soon was licking down the perineum to Will's hanging balls. Each was sucked and licked individually and with devotion. Will realised with part of his mind that he was being educated by a master. He blessed his luck. Harry pulled Will's now semi-erect cock towards him, and began suckling luxuriously on it. If he hadn't been wanking so much recently, Will would have shot his load by now.
'It's time,' Harry announced. He knelt up behind Will, and he felt the hot, slick head of his penis at his entry. He desperately tried to stay relaxed, but it took two more sharp slaps to help his anus take Harry. Now it did hurt. Will bit his lip. But Harry was going nowhere in a hurry. He waited for Will to tell him the pain was fading. Again and again he pushed and paused, until Will felt the tickling of Harry's pubic bush at his buttocks and Harry's warm abdomen lay against his back as he held his shoulders under his armpits.
'You're being fucked up the arse, Will,' Harry gasped in his ear. 'You're a real queer now.'
Will gritted his teeth, for the pain was quite bad. He felt he was being carved open by a blunt knife. 'Can you take it easy, Harry?'
'Hurting?'
'It's bad.'
'Trust me babe. It's time to go for it. It'll get less, believe me.'
It didn't. But he was surprised at how new sensations were taking over from the pain of being outrageously full of Harry, as Harry began to move inside him. Small spasms of electricity seemed to emanate from his over-stimulated anal muscles, and something weird was happening behind his hanging cock. He found he could ignore the pains of penetration and of the friction on his inner wall. He was helped by occasional sharp slaps on his flanks. He remembered how the Rothenian boys had done it to each other, and now he thought he knew why. He found himself making the same gasping pants and whining moans that Marc Bennett did when he was being fucked. Somehow that intensified his pleasure. Harry's hairy abdomen was slick with sweat on his back.
Finally Harry gave a deep thrust into him, and held it. He gasped. 'Sit back on my lap as I move off you, Will,' he ordered.
Will did, and found himself squatting back on Harry, his dick filling him up to the top of his rectum. Will burst out, 'Aw, this is it. This is good.' It was beyond good. He pushed his head back onto his lover's shoulder in abandon and ecstasy. Harry kissed his cheek.
'You're a babe, Will. Just like I knew you'd be.'
'Am I good?'
'You're tight, hot and fantastic. You're loving this, and that makes it all worthwhile. Kid, you have real promise. The time you've wasted up till now, the good sex you could have had.' Harry's hands were exploring his chest and pubic region. Finally his fingers wrapped round Will's half erect penis. Will looked down. 'What's that?' he asked.
Harry chuckled, 'That's your prostate telling you how much it likes what I'm doing to it. It's your precum leaking out.'
'But it doesn't do it when I wank.'
'You're the sort that needs the extra anal stimulation, Will. If we have time, I can make you squirt without help from your hand, though it may take a few times. It's an anal orgasm.'
'I'd like that.'
'I'm surprised you haven't come already.'
'Er ... I've been wanking a lot lately.'
'Rothenian boys?'
'How did you know?'
'I checked out your DVD player. Tell you what. Let's put it on now.'
Will was reluctant. 'No. Some other time, maybe.' Strangely, he found himself unwilling to share his fantasies about Marc Bennett. Odd, because there could be no sexual barriers between him and Harry Baxter any more.
Harry chuckled. 'OK then babe. Let's go for closure, like the good lawyer I am.' He pushed up with his groin and Will moved up with him, and back on to the sofa. Harry began beating faster and harder into him with serious thrusts that made him grunt and gasp louder and louder. Harry too was gasping hard. He felt Harry's hands checking the tightness of his balls. 'Here we go!' he yelled. He began wanking Will hard and his orgasm boiled up in him. He yelled as five creditable pulses of sperm spurted out of him on to the sofa cushions and his left thigh. At the same time he felt the stickiness and sudden lubrication as Harry shot his load deep inside him. Harry gave one long thrust that pushed them both off the sofa and flat on the ground, Harry pinning him in the ecstasy of his ejaculation.
'Oh my God ... my God. Will, you're unbelievable. What a babe you are.'
Will gasped, sweat dripping in his eyes. 'Thanks, Harry. You're pretty fantastic yourself. ... Thanks for taking my virginity, and so nicely too.'
'Literally kid, it was my pleasure.'