Student No Longer

Student no longer. A story in 10 chapters

Disclaimer: This story contains passages of explicit description of sexual activity between boys of 18+. There is also strong language. If you are likely to be offended by these, please read no further.

Chapter 5: Game Boy

We started the next day with a huge fry-up. Three rashers of bacon, a couple of sausages, fried bread, fried eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms, all provided by the Mr Nice, who seemed inexplicably to have stocked the fridge for our tenancy. What's more, we enjoyed the luxury of eating it in the nude.

When we got dressed (Bob back in his old gear again), we proceeded to Clapham to pick up our belongings from my old flat, and cheerfully wave goodbye to its peeling paint, seedy bathroom and stained furniture. (Some of those stains I was responsible for - but no matter.) Then on to the agency to tell them they could take their poxy flat back.

This took up the greater part of the morning. It was nearly noon when we arrived back with Bob's slim bag and my bulging trunk at our new abode.

Since I'd missed the morning's lectures, I knew I had to make an effort to get to the next class which was at 1.30. Pity! Bob's brown, lithe body invited sex again.

"Ready to go?" I shouted to Bob.

"Ah, I'm going to give this afternoon a miss," Bob muttered.

I remembered what his course-mate had said and felt I must pass on the warning.

"Bob. It's important. A friend of yours said that they were threatening to expel you."

Enfuriatingly, he replied with complete composure: "They won't do that."

"How can you be so sure?" I retorted.

Evenly, he responded, "I can be so sure, Little John, because they have already done the deed. I am a student no longer."

I don't know which shocked me most, the fact that he had been given the push so soon, or his total indifference to his fate.

"Have you told your parents?" I enquired.

"They don't care a shit about me," he said bitterly. "They hardly knew I was at college. As long as I keep out of their way, they're happy enough. I'm on my own, kid! I've got to make my own luck, and look after number one."

But he didn't look pleased about it. A dark shadow flitted across his face.

I got ready to go to college by myself. We arranged that as we had only one key between us, he would definitely be back in the flat by 5.30, when I also should return. We would then have another evening of erotic discovery to look forward to.

I arrived back promptly at six. I listened at the door and could hear movement inside. I tapped lightly.

Suddenly, taking me completely by surprise, the door of the flat opposite opened and a bright-eyed kid jumped out to greet me, with a huge smile lighting up his face.

"Hya," he exclaimed. "You must be Little John! I'm Andy. Better known as Game Boy."

We shook hands cordially. Something about his smile and his openness made me feel immediately at ease in his company. He was boyishly slim with a cute, perky bum. He had short, blonde hair in a sort of crew-cut style and with a hint of copper in it. His skin was smooth and milky-white, though his cheeks were flushed a healthy pink. His eyes were clear and piercingly blue and there were a few freckles on his face and arms. Given half a chance, I felt I could eat him. Strawberries and cream!

"Bob's had to go to work. He asked me to entertain you until he comes back."

I felt irritated with Bob, letting me down yet again - I was really building up for an evening's heavy activity with him. There was so much he had promised to teach me. But, I have to confess that I also fancied making the acquaintance of this delightful neighbour of ours.

"Why do they call you Game Boy?" I asked as he half ushered, half pushed me into his flat.

"You'll find out," he said with a wink and a grin. "Want a beefburger?" he enquired.

I'll have to pause a minute to give you a little portrait of Andy (Game Boy); I have never before or since met a bloke like him. He was never still for a second. To make a routine move into the the kitchen, for example, was for Andy a series of complex physical exercises: a hop-step-and-jump on to the sofa, a forward roll, a comic flop on to the floor, a cartwheel into the kitchen, a balancing of a plate on the top of his head, a pirouette back to the dining room table and a chuck or spin of the plate into its position. Then he'd be poised for his next exploit, chatting sixteen to the dozen all the time.

He was dressed in a bright emerald green, short-sleeved football shirt with the number 15 emblazoned in white on the back. He had medium-length, silk, Persil-white shorts on and I swear he wore nothing underneath. Every one of his bizarre movements was accompanied by the swinging of what appeared to be a very large pendulum between his legs. I felt when he upended himself that I might just see it protrude from the right leg of his shorts...because it clearly hung on that side.

I tried to keep my eyes off it....but it was impossible for me...and I'm sure it would have been for most of you who might be reading this! Your eyes just get drawn to something as ginormous as that.

And all the time, there was a comic dialogue taking place .... mostly infantile, mostly suggestive... with the "as the actress said to the bishop" tag appended to the most innocent comment, puns on the "come" word and so on. But I liked it. It turned me on. I felt relaxed.

We had our beefburgers at the table. He got a squeezy sauce bottle and held it like a penis he was wanking by projecting it out from his shorts and faking an orgasm while he squished the sauce in three farty globules on to his food. "AAAh AAAh AAAH" he gasped and we collapsed with laughter. But by fooling on, he got a tomato sauce stain on his brilliant white shorts and " Ah, Fuck me" he swore, " as the actress said the bishop". He got a sponge, wet it and scrubbed the silk, enjoying the lewdness of the action. We both laughed again when we realised that he had made a transparent window, which allowed me to gawk at some of his pubic hair and a proportion of his cock.

At the table, never able to keep still for a moment, he wrestled my legs with his, caught them in a grip, squeezed them, then released them. I stroked his leg with my stockinged foot right up to his thighs and the bottom of his shorts and he murmured "nice" and flashed me a smile of encouragement. Perhaps this was how he interpreted Bob's request that I should be entertained!

Briskly then, he got up.

"Want to know why I'm called Game Boy?" he asked.

"Tell me."

He did so by opening a cupboard, which was full to brimming with games of all sorts, mostly board games: Monopoly, Chess, Cluedo, Game of Life etc. etc. etc.

"What's your Worship's fancy as the actor said to the Judge?" he said.

I looked through what he had...and saw a game I used to play as a little kid back in the north-east. Twister! Memories flooded back of the fun we had at the age of about six or seven, toppling over each oher, enjoying the contortions of our bodies and each other's. Reminders of an innocent age.

I pulled it out.

"Ah great choice!" he crowed. "Do you know how to play?"

We both did but you, the reader, might not - so if you don't, this is roughly what happens: you have a mat with lots of circles on it in four different colours, red, green, yellow and blue. You also have a spinner, which is divided into four segments, one for the left hand , one for the right, one for the left foot and one for the right. Players are supposed to start by taking positions at opposite ends of the mat and then they put their four limbs on four circles, the specified limb on the specified coloured circle no matter how awkward that might be. The rule for playing with only two dispenses with the spinner. One player says the limb which is to be moved and the other the colour it is to go to...and then both have to move the specified limb to the right colour.

Suddenly I thrilled at the prospect of playing; I had been made horny by the prospect of an evening with Bob and this game could compensate. it might lead to the sexiest physical contact .... especially if both partners were up for it!

Then Andy, with the most wicked smirk imaginable, suggested we played "Strip Twister". I nearly blew a gasket. We had not heard of that variation when I was a little kid!

"If you fall, you have to remove an item of clothing," he explained impishly.

"Hey, you've got on one less item of clothing than I have,"I said.

"How do you know that?" he said slyly. "Has Little John been peeking?"

I blushed at my indiscretion but decided to brass it out: "It's fairly obvious when you've got a giant loose under there!"

He rolled around in glee and mockingly ordered it back in its cage. "You're intimidating the guests," he told it.

Take off your socks then," he said. "Then we've got three items each - and that's fair."

We took our positions. I said Right Foot and he said Green and we resettled ourselves with our noses almost touching. He put out his tongue and licked my nose. Then our cheeks came together and I felt the warmth of his skin against mine. Somehow, with the next move, my crotch came level with his face. he nuzzled into it, luxuriating in its softness.

"MMMMMM what lovely scents!" he murmured sensuously, and breathed hot, damp breath on to it. At the unexpected erotic sensation, two things happened: inevitably my cock started to stiffen and secondly, I slipped and fell down."

He crowed with delight. "Haha!" he shouted." What's coming off?"

I peeled off my t-shirt. he sat back and openly took in the sight of my naked upper body, and I could see him formulating a plan.

Next move, he was on top of me and licking into the crevices under my arms.

I wanted to get my own back and so I managed to get under him and let my tongue roam up under the right leg of his shorts. I felt smothered by his smooth, milky flesh but I could just reach the tip of his cock and let my tongue tickle the helmet.

"Oh that's not fair!" he gurgled, though he clearly loved it. As I lapped at it, it hardened and though I couldn't use my hands I pushed the fabric with my nose to expose the circumcised tip to the air.

Not able to stand it any longer, he slipped, exploding into hysterical laughter.

Now he took off his socks.

Because he was so giggly now, he soon had to forfeit his next item, the football shirt. Oh, his body was creamily beautiful. It was still a slim, boyish build, but there were the curves of nicely forming muscles in his arms and chest. He had wispy hair under his arms - blonde with a copper tint - but none on his chest or around his cute navel. His nipples were little pinpricks still, but erect in keeping with his general state of arousal. I decided to aim for those next.

We ended up with me facing upwards, in a most awkward position, my erect cock pointing up to his knees, and my face level with his chest. He caught my tool between his knees and squeezed while I put out my tongue and sponged his nipples. He loved it. But I couldn't maintain this position any longer.

I collapsed and he triumphantly exulted. "Next item: OFF OFF OFF!"

I, with a deliberate sexiness, lowered my trousers, leaving my boxers barely covering my full extended erection. He now had the bit between the teeth. We both only had one item of clothing to go. His next position was at my rear. I couldn't reach his body at all, so passively enjoyed the sensation of his tongue probe-probe-probing beneath my boxers at my rear end. It was sensational. He first kissed and nibbled the top part of my inner thighs which I had always found very erogenous, and then he nudged the material out of the way and stuck his tongue up my bum crack. He let it circle my hole. I was in ecstacy. I cooperated by pushing my bottom backwards as far as I was able, but in so doing - oh horror - I lost my balance.

Now was the moment of truth. I stripped my underwear off completely and I was without a thread on my body. The air felt cool about me. This time, we got into a similar position but I had my legs as wide open as they could possibly get and his tongue went to work again. It strayed right up my bum and now, without any clothing to get in the way, it attended to my balls and felt along the bottom of my rigid dick. He talked as dirty as I had ever heard. And this just heightened my lust.

In the end, I think he fell on purpose. And true to form, he made the dropping of his shorts an art form. He coyly took them down an inch or two and then, pretended to be too shy to go the whole hog. He made his cock jerk up and down below the silk by flexing his erection muscles. He insolently exposed his bum and wiggled it provocatively. Then he proudly revealed the magnificence of his equipment. His cock was a full nine inches long, thick and circumcised. After all the wait, the sight was worth it. His balls were full and heavy, like a bull's. They dominated his slight, boyish frame which had yet to mature into full manhood.

I reached for it, but he dodged my grasp. "Let's finish the game," he whispered. So we played on. I quickly got into a position when I could take his cock into my mouth. I took him from behind. I manouevred his monster backwards by curling my tongue round it and propping it between my lips. I then sucked.

He was trembling with excitment and the strain of keeping himself aloft.

Then we both let the game go to hell and wrestled freely on the mat, first one on top and then the other. We kissed each other on whichever private part we fancied, we rubbed each other's cocks and we felt each other's nooks and crannies at will.

Then, competitive to the end, Game Boy suggested "a shooting contest". Sperm shooting, of course. He started first, poised at the end of the mat. I watched his eyes close as he pumped away at his magnificent monster. I helped him by fondling his balls and rimming him feverishly.

"I'm nearly there," he gasped, and I could see him trying to retain his cum for a few more seconds, so that it would shoot further when he could prevent it no longer. When it came, it flew in gallons to the other end of the mat.

I swear only the virile energy of a late teenager can propel spunk that sort of distance and in such quantity.

Now it was my turn! I had my knee on the mat till Game Boy called foul. Then, moving backwards, I got into a rhythm. He was a spectacular help. His tongue nuzzled everywhere. His fingers played with my nipples , stroked my inner thighs, explored my bum crack. I let my free hand circle his cock which instantly stood to attention as if to help me as well. I could feel cum welling up from my balls. OOOHHH. I thrust my cock out as far as it would go, arched my back and tensed my muscles to hold the spunk back as long as I could. Then, with my whole body straining in a deliciously violent spasm, I ejected the first spunk globule. It shot to the furthest red spot on the mat and settled in a creamy ball; then the second, while Andy's fingers dug deeper up my hole. The third I ejaculated further still.....aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh. The spunk still came after that but more in dribbles .... and, satisfied, I rubbed it from my fingers into my chest.

Andy had a tape measure and was measuring it to the millimetre. He finally declared me the winner and I felt ....well, sort of proud. Our cocks now hung limply and we hugged each other, both winners in our way. We kissed lovingly.

Suddenly came a rap-rap-rap at the door. It was Bob!

"Hey, I'm back!" he shouted.

Startled at being caught like this, I escaped to the bathroom and hurriedly wiped the spunk from my fingers and chest with a tissue. I quickly flung my clothes on while Andy calmly rolled up the mat, slipped his shorts on, then opened the door.

"What a racket!" he said reprovingly. "We were just finishing a game."

I came in at this point, tousled and guilty. I had been unfaithful to Bob and felt deeply ashamed.

"I bet you had a game, you two," Bob said and Andy winked at him and then at me.

"A brilliant game," Andy said, "Don't you agree, Little John?"

I mumbled something inconclusive, just eager to get out of here now.

"Just hope we can repeat it!" he continued, piling on the agony.

I agreed wholeheartedly with him, but couldn't bear the thought that Bob might have the slightest suspicion that I had been "playing away".

Because I loved Bob, while Andy was a playmate.

That night in bed, Bob snuggled up against my naked body.

"I reckon, Little John, you might be a bit too tired to give me the blow-job I'm due."

I grunted an answer from the depths of the sleep I was drifting into.

"But I love the smell of your sweat ... and the smell of your spunk," he whispered in my ear.

And that woke me with a shock like a jolt of electricity. Did he suspect? I cursed the fact that I hadn't had a shower when I came in. Had he realised that we had taken our entertainment rather to extremes? No holds barred? Suddenly, I felt like confessing all our misdemeanours - but then - a faint snore reached my ears...and I was reprieved.

Or was it a chuckle?

P.S. Do you know, my tummy really troubled me, that night. All those bodily contortions after a meal? You don't want to hear the details of what dribbled from my bum as a result of that, however. Not in the least bit sexy!

If anyone has played Twister, please tell me of your experiences. I continue to enjoy your messages. Please keep in touch: krisjon40@hotmail.com Next chapter soon: "Candy"