Oscar

Oscar 7

They say time stands still during important moments in our lives. First kisses. First loves. Births. Deaths.

They say you'll always remember what you were doing when you heard about so and so, or where you were when this or that happened.

But sometimes there are times where time doesn't freeze in a memory or an image or a picture or a place. Instead it's obliterated. Any concept of beginning, middle or end can go completely out the window, because how long doesn't matter.

All that matters is now.

That Sunday morning was one of them. Not that Adam was a life-changing lover forever imprinted on my sexual psyche. He was a seventeen-year-old lad, fucking another lad for the first time. He wasn't exactly versed in the Kamasutra.

But he was alive. Alive with energy. Alive with desire. And, as I've said before, alive with freedom. With all of that fuelling muscles trained to scrum, and blood prepared to pump faster and harder than grown men twice his age, he didn't let my brain consider time.

In fact, it couldn't.

All it could process were my senses, surging and sparking from the rapid pulse of his motion. Again and again he drove himself inside of me deeper and harder. Harder and deeper.

With each spit-lubricated thrust, shockwaves of pleasure, ablaze with the right amount of pain, exploded from my hole and rippled throughout my body. With each slide of his cock, from head to base, he stretched me open and filled me fuller than ever before.

Feeling his body against my arse I would clench and hold him in place, if only for a split second. Then he'd repeat. Tougher and rougher. I'd wanted to see how strong he could be and he displayed his power mercilessly.

I couldn't get enough.

My cock, rock hard and ready to explode without the encouragement of strong hands, slapped against my stomach. My knees and arms and legs and back were braced and flexed and arched in all the right places.

My neck and shoulders glistened with sweat, squeezed out from almost every pore. My head was hot and wetter. It danced by itself to a rhythm drummed from behind.

Every part of me wanted more. Every electrified cell whirred and purred as I submitted, taking what I was given. My breath was fast and deep. His breath: the same. My moans were loud. His were louder.

Fabric squeaked between my teeth, slats creaked below us. The headboard beat incessantly against the wall. The smell of two teenage boys in an adult's room filled our nostrils and the sight of us reflected back into our hungry eyes.

I watched his muscles bulge and tense; his hands clamp, strong and commanding. His hips lunged back and forth. His neck, his shoulders, his back, his arse. His cock. Me.

He could have fucked me for hours. Or minutes. I have no idea. I didn't care.

There is one image. One frozen memory. When his breath was heaviest, his thrusts hit hardest and his grip held tightest. When, panting from exhaustion, he said three of my favourite words.

`I'm gonna cum.'

I tried to reply but my words weren't working. Instead my load stirred inside my balls as his slapped between my legs. Two large droplets of sweat dripped from his forehead onto my back.

`I'm gonna cum!'

I didn't even bother trying. Instead I grabbed myself and locked my eyes on the mirror.

Sliding all the way out he leaned back on his knees and took hold of himself. My insides shifted and I saw my reddened hole gape open, dark and empty and circular. His body shuddered. Every muscle from his neck to his calves contracted. His arse clenched. His arm worked as fast as it could.

He blew.

Thick, white and hot his load shot between my cheeks. I watched it pour into my open hole and felt it prickle over my sensitive, beaten skin. Blow by blow it rushed and seeped inside of me.

I couldn't hold back any longer.

Tightening my grip on myself I lifted my arse higher and stretched my knees further apart. The veins in my cock pressed against my palm.

`Push it in.'

Without saying a word he did as he was told and filled me a final time. My head whipped backwards as each inch pushed further. Black spots speckled my vision and I blew.

It was big. It streaked across the bed, leaving a gooey white line on the sheets from my belly button to my neck. More and more poured out and over my hand and dripped between my fingers as he slowly and steadily churned his load inside of me. His legs jolted with sensitivity as my hole tightened around him.

Unable to take anymore he pulled out. Then he swung himself off the bed and stood up slowly.

Collapsing onto the mattress and into my wet patch I looked up at him. For a minute neither of us spoke a word. We stared at each other, panting and sweating. I relished every detail from the cum-soaked linen under me to my shaking legs and humming hole. He loomed over me like a giant.

`You enjoy that?' I said.

`You have no idea.'

Throwing himself back onto the bed he landed next to me. I bounced and fell closer to him. Grabbing me in his arms he rolled on top of me. His wet six-pack glided over mine.

Here it comes, I thought.

`You're seriously sexy, Oscar.'

Yup. Pillow talk. Joy.

`I know.'

He laughed but didn't move.

`Mind if I shower?'

`Huh?'

I repeated my question.

`Shit, sorry,' he said, rolling back to his side of the bed and pointing to the landing. `Second on the left. Towels in there.'

Ten minutes later I found him lying where I'd left him. He looked up and opened his arms expectantly. He wanted to cuddle. I wanted to laugh in his face.

But I couldn't. There was one more thing I needed. One last piece of information.

Smiling I took off the towel from around my waist and bypassed his attempts at affection by straddling him. Putting his hands behind his head he relaxed and beamed up at me. I tickled his chin.

`I know this is random, but I was thinking about what you told me. About Mr. Price.'

`Oh yeah?'

`Yeah. How do you know?'

`Know what?'

`That it was your fault.'

His brow wrinkled.

`I mean, I know it's a stretch, but there could be another reason why he went mental.'

He shook his head and looked to the side.

`No. I know it was me.'

`How?'

`He told me.'

`You're still in touch?'

`No, not like that. I bumped into him.'

I laughed.

`Sure. You "bumped" into him,' I said, squeezing his nipple between my thumb and index finger.

`Fuck off,' he said, play punching me on the arm.

`Well?'

`Ok. I went to his house.'

I pulled a face. A face that said "poor you". A face that hid my desired reaction: a smile.

`Where does he live?'

`Not far. But he wasn't home. So I went to the Old Creek fields because he plays footy there on Sundays. I just wanted to see him, you know? But he wouldn't even look me in the eye.'

His twinkled. Large, blue and hopeful.

`Do you think he'll ever talk to me again?'

I'm not proud of what I did next. How I treated him. All he wanted was someone to talk to. Someone he could confide in. Someone who would listen. But that Oscar was a different person than the man I am today.

That Oscar wasn't ready to forgive.

`Hey?'

I ignored him and kept walking. Out of the room, down the hall and into his bedroom. I was already half dressed by the time he poked his head into the room, sheepish and confused.

`What are you doing?'

`What does it look like?'

`Cool, cool. Yeah, it is pretty cold in here. I can turn the heating on if you like? My folks don't get home for ages. We could smoke a spliff.'

`Nah, I'm alright.'

`Are you leaving?'

`What do you think?' I said, pulling on my t-shirt.

`Why?'

His confused eyes followed me as I scooped up my trainers and walked past him towards the stairs. He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I stopped, turned my head slowly and looked at his hand.

`You really want me to stay?'

`Yeah,' he said smiling. He let go, bent down and pulled on some underwear. `We could hang out.'

I sniggered. Quietly, but I couldn't help it.

`Like mates?'

He smiled again. Bigger than the last one.

`Yeah, like mates.'

I looked him up and down. He really was a sexy guy. Totally my type. Strong, built, fit, tall, handsome; the list goes on. But man was he stupid. I pulled my cheekiest grin.

`No thanks.'

He said nothing. He just stood and stared at me. I don't think anybody had ever rejected him before. Adam Stanmore. Mr. Perfect.

`Well, this is thrilling,' I said, continuing past him and down the stairs.

`Wait,' he said. Thud, thud, thud went his heavy footsteps after me. `Wait!'

At the bottom of the staircase I stopped and turned. A few stairs above he towered over me. I felt like David versus Goliath. The part where he's about to pick up a rock.

`What?'

`I don't get it, man. What did I say?'

`Come on, Adam, really?'

Again he said nothing. Only his jaw hung a centimetre or so open. If I could have heard the cogs turning in his head before, now they were practically screaming.

`Yeah, really. Tell me. Tell me what I've done.'

I should have left. Left it at that. But the twisted part of me had tasted blood and wanted more.

`Ok. You're a hypocrite. And an idiot.'

He flinched, like my words had slapped him in the face. His brow furrowed. Sadness and anger crept into his eyes. His lips drooped into a frown. Taking the final steps slowly he sat on the third from bottom. His shoulders slumped.

I'd never seen such a big guy look so vulnerable before.

`I don't understand,' he said.

I sniggered again.

`There's a surprise.'

`Fuck you.'

`You just did.'

`Why are you being like this?'

`Mate, I'm being honest.'

`Honest? About what? How am I a hypocrite?'

I was getting impatient. I raised my eyebrows.

`What?!' he yelled.

I shook my head and leaned sideways against the wall.

`You really think I've forgotten? That morning at school when everyone found out?'

It took him a second to realise what I was talking about. Then he got it. Guilt joined the mix of emotions in his eyes.

`Yeah. You remember now don't you? You remember standing there, laughing and joking as they circled me. You remember what they did. How they left me there, fucked up and bleeding.'

`I didn't touch you!'

My fists clenched tight and anger bubbled in my stomach. I wanted to punch him in the face and keep on punching. I wanted him to know how it felt. Taking a deep breath I buried it.

`You're right. You didn't. You didn't do anything. Like everyone else you just stood there and let it happen. But now, guess what? Now I know you're not like everyone else. Now I know you suck dick too.'

`What was this then? What was last night? Everything you said was just bullshit?'

`No, I meant what I said. Every word. But it doesn't mean we're mates and we're gonna hang out. I don't want to be your friend, Adam.'

`So you were using me?'

I cocked my head to the side and smiled.

`Finally. Something intelligent. Yes, I was using you. And how useful you've been.'

`What's that supposed to mean?'

`It means I have a date with the Old Creek fields. And you are now officially useless.'

Clenching his fists he stood up and came at me. Squaring my shoulders I puffed out my chest and met him halfway. We stared into each other's eyes. Hard and fuming his breath blasted my face from his flared nostrils.

`Go on then. Do your worst,' I said.

`Get out.'

`Gladly,' I said, turning away and walking to the door.

Holding the cool metal of the handle I turned and took one last look. One last look at the King of School. Defeated.

`Oh,' I said pulling the door open. Sunlight shone all around me and into the hallway. He lifted his hand to protect himself from the rays. `If you try anything at school ... I will ruin you.'

To be continued ...

Head over to my website to learn more about Oscar's adventures, including new and exclusive content about my upcoming eBook Oscar Down Under, as well as an audio recording of Oscar, Part 6.

Copyright Jack Ladd 2016

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