The Hockey Boys

This is a work of fiction. Same disclaimers and advice apply as at chapter 1.

This is the final part of 'Max and me', and the final part of 'The Hockey Boys'. I'd love your feedback; email me at nesteuk@yahoo.co.uk

Chapter 16

There isn't much to be said about my next term at Oxford. With it being the off' season for hockey, I had more time to myself and I applied myself harder to my work. I also rowed for the first time. The College hockey club formed the College 3rd VIII for the summer bumps races. We called ourselves The Penalty Stroke' which everyone thought was terribly witty. That's what comes of naming a boat after a few drinks. During Eights week we splashed our way powerfully, if not very prettily, up the river and held our own – and I could understand why Lucy had spoken so enthusiastically about the feeling of an eight moving through the water.

Dan had finals, so was working all the hours God sent – but that made him even keener, it seemed, to spend the little time he gave himself off in bed with me. I wasn't complaining. The sex we had was fun, uncomplicated and energetic – and I knew I was going to miss him the following year.

Good though sex with Dan was, with only just over a week to go until the end of the term, I was looking forward with growing excitement to seeing Max again. He was going to come over, just like the previous year, for four weeks, at least two of which we were going to spend in Cornwall. There were just ten days until we were together again; I couldn't wait.

Better still, he had heard that he had been accepted on a program in England for the following year of his English course, and he was going to be based in Oxford. It was like a dream come true.

Term was due to finish the following Friday, but on the Sunday before, I got a message from the Porter to call Berndt Schell. I had a really bad feeling about it. I headed for the phone booth beside the bar, fed the coins in and dialled. The phone rang three times before it was picked up.

"Berndt Schell."

"Mr. Schell – it's Chris Alexander."

"Oh Chris, thank you so much for calling. Now, please do not panic, but Max has disappeared. No-one has seen him for two days. His friend Johannes – who I think you know – said that when he last saw him, all he said was `there is someone who owes me an apology who wants to meet me. I'll see you tomorrow.' No more details. And now he is gone. I just wondered if you had any idea who he might have meant?"

"No...no I don't. Let me think. If I have any ideas I will call you back. And please – you will let me know as soon as you hear from him? He is meant to be flying here in just over a week."

"Yes of course, Chris. I am sure he is fine and will turn up."

"OK."

And he put the phone down.

I began to think. Someone who owed him an apology? A thought entered my head. Surely not. But it might explain why Max had disappeared. I felt sick. I dialled Berndt's number.

"Berndt Schell."

"It's me, Berndt, Chris. I've just had a thought. I have no idea if it's right – but maybe it's worth checking."

"Please, go on."

This was not going to be easy.

"Berndt, do you know of a boy called Klaus – I don't know his surname - who Max knew at a local boys club. Maybe...two years ago?"

"The name is not familiar. Why?"

"Umm, this is a bit personal but I think it's important. One day I was asking Max about his former partners. You know, for sex. He told me about a boy called Klaus who he had got to know at the boys club and he went to see a film with him. Afterwards, they went back to his flat and Max says he spiked his drink and then was rough with him – pretty much forced him to have sex and wanted to tie him up. Max left and walked home. Does any of this ring a bell?"

I heard Berndt's sharp intake of breath. "I can't believe that this would have happened and that he would have said nothing. But I do remember his mother said he was upset one morning after going to a film, yes."

"Well...I just wondered if this was the boy Max meant who owed him an apology. I am worried he may have contacted Max to say that he wanted to apologise, but actually just wanted to finish what he started before. I may be completely wrong, Berndt, but maybe it is worth just checking?"

"Yes of course. Thank you Chris. I will call the police immediately. I do hope that you are wrong. I will let you know."

After I came off the phone, I had a strong sense of foreboding that I was right. I prayed that I was not. And that if I was, then that Max was safe.

The next two days passed at a crawl. Then I had a message to call Berndt again

"Chris, they have found Max. Please stay calm, but you were right. Klaus Muller had him. Max is in hospital but he is alright. Please don't worry, but can you come to Germany? He just keeps asking for you over and over again."

"What happened to him, Berndt?"

There was a long pause. "I think this is something we need to talk about in person, Chris. But he is going to be alright, I promise you that. He has been badly mistreated but he is OK. When can you come? Let me know and I will pay for the ticket direct."

"As soon as I can get a flight, Berndt. Tomorrow, I hope."

"OK, good. I hoped you might say that. I have checked. There is a British Airways flight at 10.20 tomorrow morning. I can book this for you if it is possible for you to make it. Don't worry if you do not have your things – we can buy you anything you need when you get here."

"I have my passport, Berndt. Please book the flight – and if you see Max, give him my love and tell him I'm coming."

"OK, Chris. That is excellent - and thank you. I will see you at Frankfurt tomorrow."

After I put the phone down, I phoned my parents and told them what had happened. They said that they would come and pick me up in the morning and take me to Heathrow – along with a bag of essentials. Then I talked to my tutor. As my academic obligations for the term were over, he had no problem giving me the OK to miss my last scheduled tutorial.

I didn't sleep that night. I had terrible pictures of what might have happened to Max going through my head. When I looked at myself in the mirror in the morning, I looked awful. I reckoned Max needed to see me looking better than that, so I showered and shaved and had a cup of coffee after which I looked, and felt, a little better.

My parents were there promptly at 7.30. On the journey I repeated what little I knew. They could see how worried I was.

"Just let us know how we can help."

"Thanks, Mum. I'll be in touch as soon as I know more."

They kissed me goodbye and then I was checking in, walking through passport control and into the departure lounge.

The flight was uneventful. I found myself shaking as I went through the arrivals process at Frankfurt. Berndt was there to meet me. He gave me a hug.

"Thank you so much for coming, Chris. We can go straight to the hospital if that is OK."

"Yes, please Berndt. Tell me how he is."

"He needs care and he needs time, Chris. The physical injuries will heal quite fast, but we have no idea if he has psychological damage. That is why the doctors say you are important; he has asked for you constantly."

Physical injuries? Psychological damage? With growing alarm, I asked, "But what happened to him, Berndt?"

"Basically he was abducted, Chris. He went to meet Klaus because Klaus had said that he wanted to apologise for what had happened that time. We are still not sure of the details, but he got Max back to his flat and then held him there."

I could see Berndt was close to tears.

"When the police found him, Max was tied naked to a bed. He had been beaten and assaulted and worse. I am sorry Chris...it is too much for me to say more."

I too was close to tears. My beautiful, wonderful Max had been beaten, and `assaulted and worse'...whatever that meant.

"It's OK Berndt...I'll talk to the doctors. Thank you for telling me what you have."

We arrived at the hospital and parked. Berndt put an arm round my shoulder as we went up in the lift.

"He is in a private room. I know you are desperate to see him, but you need to talk with the doctors first, OK?"

"OK."

The corridor we stepped out into was warm and quiet. The dividing door hissed open as we approached. A nurse was sat at a desk.

"Herr Schell. And you must be Chris. Please come with me. The doctor is waiting for you."

We went into a side room where a middle-aged man in a white coat was sitting in a comfortable-looking chair.

"I will wait for you outside, Chris. The doctor wants to talk to you on your own.2

Berndt left. The doctor waved me to the seat opposite him.

"Hello Chris. You are Max's...boyfriend?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Good. OK. We are pleased to see you. We hope that you will help Max relax which will be good for him. And I understand that you are worried, but you must try and relax too; that will be the best way to help Max. So...physically you will see a young man who has been badly beaten. There are bruises and cuts to his body, legs and genitals, and his face is also bruised - but these are not serious and will heal. But you must be ready for what you see. More serious is that he has been repeatedly and violently raped and an object has been forced into his rectum that created an internal tear."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

"OK. Fortunately, the tear was minor – in medical terms - and we have been able to repair it, so there should be no long term damage – although any sort of sexual penetration is out of the question for at least six weeks and probably longer. We have done blood tests and Max is free of any STD and he is HIV negative – both of which are good news. What we cannot tell is if there is any psychological damage; I have to warn you that it highly likely that there will be, but this is where you can help – both Max and us. We need to know if there is any change to his personality or his behaviour – and you must be ready for it if there is. You need to be reassuring and to stay calm. We will need to keep him in here for at least another week. Now...I expect that you would like to see him. He certainly wants to see you."

"Thank you, Doctor. Am I able to stay here?"

"We can make arrangements if that is what Max wants – and of course if you wish it too. Come."

He opened the door and led me down the corridor. We stopped outside one of four roomsin a square at the end. The plaque beside the door read `Max Schell.' The doctor motioned for me to go in. My heart was in my mouth as I pushed the door handle down and stepped into the room.

Max was lying in bed. His face was better than I had feared, but still badly bruised and he had a black eye. What I could see of his chest was a mass of purple and red, and there was a big dressing on one side. He had heard the door open, and he turned his head.

"Chris! You came..." His voice was cracked, but his smile was as real as ever.

"MAX! Oh Max, Max, Max."

I couldn't help but run to him. I wanted to hug him but I realised that might not be the greatest idea – so I settled for a kiss.

I felt him wince, but he stretched out an arm and pulled my face to his.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry Max? You haven't done anything wrong. Oh Max, I'm so glad you are OK. I was so worried."

"I knew you'd come, my Chris. You told them where to find me. Thank you so much. I told them you would come. Promise me you won't leave me."

"I promise, Max. Is it OK if I hold you?"

"Yes. Yes please. Just gently."

I put my arms around him as gently as I could and we just held each other. Then he started to cry.

"It's OK, Max. It's all OK now. I'm here. Don't worry. Everything is going to be alright."

"He did things to me, Chris. He did things to me that hurt so much. He did things that I think will mean you stop loving me."

I stroked his hair. Tears were running silently down my face too.

"There is nothing he can do – nothing that anyone can do – that will stop me loving you, Max. You are mine. You will always be mine. I will always, always love you."

"You don't know what he did to me, Chris. He put things in me. He put himself in me. He did things that only you should do to me. It was horrible. I was so stupid."

"Max...I love you. Whatever he did, I still love you. You are mine, Max. No-one will ever take you away from me. We belong together and nothing will ever change that. Nothing."

"I was so stupid, Chris. Why did I trust him? He's spoilt everything."

"He's spoilt nothing that matters, Max. Look at me, Max. Look at me."

He slowly lifted his eyes – his bruised eyes – to look at me.

"Do you still love me, Max?"

He nodded.

"And I love you. Does anything else matter?"

He clung on to me so tightly, his tears making my shirt wet, and then slowly, so slowly, his breathing slowed down, the tears stopped, and then he was asleep in my arms. I laid him gently down on the pillow and stroked his hair.

"I love you, Max Schell. Now and for ever. Everything is going to be alright." I kissed him.

As I sat there, holding his hand, Berndt came back into the room along with the doctor. They looked at me.

I smiled at them. "I think it's going to be OK. I can't explain it. I just feel it. But please, can you give me a bed in here. I think it's important to him – and to me – that I am here when he wakes up."

The doctor looked at Berndt. He nodded.

"We will get something arranged." He got up and went out of the room.

"How was he, Chris?"

"He feels he is to blame, I think. But we will work on that. I love him, Berndt – and he still loves me. In the end, that will heal the wounds. I can feel it. I know it. I only wish I could take his pain."

I looked up. I felt stupid.

"I'm sorry...you are his father – you must feel the same."

"I do, Chris. But you are the one he needs now. I know you love him and that he loves you. He told me once that, when he met you, it was as if there was magic between you. Work your magic now, Chris. Bring him back safe to us."

He came and hugged me.

"You are like a second son to me and Lisl, Chris. If there is anything you need, just ask."

"All I need is for him to be alright."

"Us too. I will see you tomorrow."

About twenty minutes later, a second bed arrived in the room. I asked for it to be put where Max and I could at least hold hands. Then I settled down and opened my book.

Max stirred about an hour later. Not properly awake, he was muttering my name. I went and held his hand.

"I'm here, Max."

He opened his eyes, looked around, and saw me. He smiled.

"You are still here, Chris."

"I'll always be here, Max."

He reached out his arms to me and I went and held him.

"Please, lie beside me," he said.

I had no idea what the protocols were, but sod it; he wanted me to lie beside him, so I was going to lie beside him. It was a tight fit and I needed to avoid hurting him, but we ended up finding a way to hold each other. And we were still holding each other when he fell asleep again.

The mental healing process started the next day when Max was allowed out of bed and we sat on a sofa by the window of his room, cuddled up tight. He put his head on my shoulder and started to tell me exactly what Klaus had done to him. I just let him talk. The doctors had told me that if and when he decided to talk, I should encourage him – that it was an important part of his recovery.

What he told me then and over the next two days was almost too much to bear. He broke into tears sometimes – and it was all I could do not to cry too. He had been horribly violated. Klaus had drugged him – again – and Max had come to to find himself stripped naked and tied to a bed. Klaus had forced him to have oral sex – and when Max had spat his semen out, Klaus had hit him around the face. He had then tied his legs back over his head and repeatedly raped him – without lubrication or protection - over the next three days. He had beaten Max with a split cane that had left welts and cuts all over his chest, his back, his legs and his groin. Then he had forced a series of objects into him, culminating in a massive wooden pole the diameter of Max's forearm that he had driven deep into him – and Max had known he was tearing and could feel the blood wet on his skin. He told me that Klaus had said that when he was finished with him he was going to tie a cord around his balls so tightly that they would die and he would be the eunuch that he deserved to be; that he would no longer be a man, that he would be unable to have sex, and that his boyfriend would desert him.

"But why, Max, why?"

"I think perhaps he is mentally not very well. He had never really forgiven me for walking away from him that night. And then he found out that I had a boyfriend. And then he found out my boyfriend was not even German. He told me that I dishonoured good German boys and that I needed to be punished. That I needed to be reminded of what German boys could give him. He asked me what any other boy had that he did not have. He had sex and violence all mixed up in his head. That is what scared me most, Chris. Not what he was doing to me but the fact that it was all irrational – that there was nothing I could say to reach him, to persuade him to stop."

I squeezed his hand.

"I love you, Max Schell – more than anything in the world."

"How can you, Chris? How? Look at me. You are perfect and I...I am..."

"You are perfect too, Max. You are still perfect on the inside – and the outside will soon heal." I kissed him and stroked his hair, before adding "I mean, you were pretty ugly before this...so a more few bruises don't matter."

Despite himself, he giggled.

"So charming. Sometimes I don't know why I love you."

"But you do, don't you?"

"Yes, my Chris. Oh yes. So much."

We kissed gently but for a long, long time.

And that was it, really. From then on Max just got better. His body soon healed and psychologically he was much less damaged than the doctors had feared. They said it was because he had talked to me – but they still said that as and when we had sex for the first time I should be prepared for Max to find it difficult or impossible to go through with it. And if so, that we would need to think about counselling.

They needn't have worried. On the sixth day, and the day before Max was going to be allowed home, as we were sitting cuddling on the sofa, Max took my hand and put it in his groin.

"Are you sure you're OK with this, Max?"

"I need to find out, my Chris. But I think everything will be OK. And I want this so very much."

And he was right – everything was OK; everything still worked. As I took hold of him I felt him stiffen and lengthen – just like always. I undid my belt and zip and took Max's hand and put it against my hardness. He sighed and slipped his hand inside my briefs, taking hold of me – just like always. I suppose we should have thought about the possibility that someone would walk in – but at that moment I don't think either of us cared very much.

And of course it was slightly embarrassing when the nurse did indeed walk in to find us with our cocks stiffly erect, stroking each other – she blushed, turned on her heel and left. Max and I exploded with laughter - and the doctor later just told me that this was simply a confirmation that Max was making an astonishing recovery.

No-one else had been allowed in to see Max during his stay in hospital, but he had had lots of cards – not least from Hansi. Max was looking forward to seeing him again in particular – and so was I.

The doctors were keen that Max should not be put under any pressure, but the issue of Klaus' upcoming trial could not be ignored completely. Fortunately, so the police informed his parents, he had pleaded guilty to assault, rape and abduction and it looked as though Max would not be put through the ordeal of a hearing. Whilst Klaus would be given credit for his guilty plea, he was still going to be put away for at least ten years – although whether that would be in prison or in a mental institution was still the subject of assessment.

Max's parents came to take us both home after about ten days. On the way back we talked about Max's proposed holiday in England. I thought that his parents would want him to stay at home with them while he recovered fully. But Max was very keen to stick with our original arrangements. To my surprise, Berndt and Lisl agreed. They thought that Max would be best away from the inevitable prying eyes and media who had got hold of the story – and where better than in England with the boy he loved and whom they trusted.

I called my parents to let them know what had been decided – and they were happy as well. They would collect both of us from Heathrow in three days' time.

Once home, Max and I had gone up to his room. I hadn't seen him naked since his ordeal.

"Max – I want to see your body. All of it. Would that be alright?"

"And I want to see yours too, my Chris."

We stripped, and for the first time I could see all the remaining evidence of what Klaus had done to my beautiful Max. Although the wounds had healed, the evidence was still there. The stripes of the cane across his body, the remains of the bruises – now lividly yellow and purple. I ran my fingers gently over his flesh.

"Oh Max. He hurt you so very much, didn't he?"

"Yes, my Chris. But that will soon all be gone. I am here - and you are with me...so what else matters?"

"May I...may I see..."

"Of course."

He turned round and bent over so that I could see his pucker. I was fearing the worst, but to my surprise, there was very little to see. Any swelling and rawness had gone and there was no obvious evidence of the operation that they had performed to repair the damage.

"It is OK to touch it if you want, Chris."

I put my finger very gently against him. I didn't try to enter him – it was enough just to touch him there, in his most intimate part.

"It will not be long before we can have sex again, my lion. I cannot wait - but we must be patient."

"`I will wait for as long as it takes Max. In the meantime..."

He smiled. "Yes, in the meantime we can do other things."

"Right now, I just want to hold you, Max."

We lay on the bed, naked, with Max spread-eagled on top of me and kissed and cuddled. You can guess the rest. I got hard and then Max got hard and then we took one another in our mouths and brought each other to a shuddering climax.

Sigi and Hansi both wanted to see Max, and we spent a very pleasant day with each of them. They had been told firmly by Max's parents that any questions relating to what had happened were off limits – unless Max chose to tell them. In the end, he just chose to say that the person he had gone to see was mentally ill and that he had had a pretty bad few days until the police had turned up – but that he was better now.

Sigi had trouble restraining himself – I think he had seen some coverage in the local press that had indicated that Max had been tortured - but when he started to say something I just looked at him and shook my head, and to his eternal credit he changed the subject. It seemed to bring him and Max back closer together - which was good.

Hansi was just pleased to see that Max was OK. Max had also told me that I should tell Hansi some, but not all, of what had happened. As I knew he would be, Hansi was completely understanding. I told him that one day Max might want to tell him more, and he was happy to leave it at that, talking instead about dance and his plans for the summer. When he left he gave me a lingering hug and a kiss; Max told us to go and get a room.

Chapter 17

The wisdom of Max coming to England became clear when a reporter knocked on the door on the morning of our departure, but he given short shrift by Lisl, and two hours later, Max and I were airborne and on our way to England. During the flight we talked about what we would tell James. Max was adamant that we tell him the truth – not all the details, but the truth about his detention and torture.

"Are you sure, Max?"

"Yes, Chris. We're the closest of friends – and anyway, he needs to know. If we play squash he will need to know why my body looks like this – and why we aren't having sex." He grinned.

I guessed he was right. Even now after nearly two weeks, the marks from his beating were still evident as red lines across his body and the bruises, although faint, were still there for anyone to see if he took a shower.

My parents picked us up from Heathrow. They had a few questions but were smart enough not to enquire too closely. Max and I had agreed that we would have a week at home then head down to Cornwall for three weeks - then have another week at home afterwards. With a bit of luck, we'd be able to resume a full sex life for the last week or so that we were away, and he would be fully-recovered long before it was time for him to return to Germany.

It was lovely having Max back in my room – and in my bed. We each sucked one another off that night – but once was about all Max was up to for the moment. I didn't care. I had him with me and we could hold each other close and that was enough.

James came round the next day. Mum and Dad had told him that I had gone to Germany because Max was in hospital - but that was all he knew.

"Hi Max! What was wrong with you? Hope you are all better now – and lovely to see you."

He came and gave Max a hug – and James saw him flinch as he did so.

"Wow...sorry, Max. Are you OK?"

"Just a little bruised, James. But lovely to see you too."

Max looked at me and nodded.

"James," I began, "Max was in hospital because he was abducted and held prisoner for four days until the police found him by someone who also tortured and raped him. Over and over again."

James just stared. "Oh my God, Max. What...how...oh my god."

He took hold of Max gently and hugged him

"It's all OK now, James. I'm almost all healed."

"How could anyone do that to you Max. And why?"

So I told him the story.

James could scarcely believe it.

"I'm so pleased you're alright, Max. How are you feeling? Are you well enough for a game of squash before you guys head down to Cornwall?"

"I'd like to at least try, James."

"OK, I'll see if I can book something for tomorrow."

James managed to get a court and we all met up there the following day. I could see James looking at Max as we got changed and I saw the look on his face as he saw the remains of the beatings Max had been given.

It was soon clear that Max really wasn't well enough yet to be competitive, and in the end he settled for watching James and me from the balcony. We had our usual close match – which he won by the odd game in the end. As we showered, James could see the full extent of Max's injuries and he just came over and hugged him.

As we drove home afterwards, I asked James how his love life at Durham had gone the previous term. He grinned at me.

"I never imagined it was possible to have as much sex as I've been having. I've met a nice girl called Carol who wants to do nothing but screw – and then I still see Paul from time to time who also just wants to be fucked although not so much now that...well...now that I have Steve as well, of course, who is always horny."

"And do you and Steve...?"

James blushed slightly. "Umm...yes...mostly we just blow each other but...well...in fact, we're rather enjoying shagging each other from time to time as well."

"Blimey, James. That we should see the day..."

"I know. But sex is...sex, isn't it? In all its wonderful forms."

Once home I went to make us all coffee while James and Max headed into the family room. When I returned with three steaming mugs, it was clear that Max and James had been in deep conversation.

"Chris," said Max, "James and I have been talking. As we know, you can't be inside me for at least another four weeks. And as we also know, at one time you and James talked about maybe doing that with each other. Now - and don't interrupt - James would quite like to reopen that conversation; and I want to let you know that I would be very happy if that's what you two would like to do."

I put the mugs down.

"Are you serious, James? You want us to...go all the way?"

James spread his hands. "I know, Chris, I know. It's not how I felt when we last discussed it but...well...things are different now. I like it when Steve...is in me. And yes...I would really like to know what it's like to have you in me too. If you are OK with the idea."

I stopped to think. This was not what I expected at all. James was my best friend, and yes, we had wanked and sucked each other. But this? And did he want to do it back to me too? It wasn't that I didn't find the idea...interesting or that I didn't find him quite sexy. But...

Max came and put an arm round me. "It's OK Chris. Honestly."

"James, if I...do you...will you want to do it to me in return?"

"Only if you want me to, Chris. There are no conditions attached."

I thought about it, and I suddenly knew with perfect clarity what I wanted. "Are you sure about that, James? Because, and I'm sorry, I don't want you inside me. I belong to Max – and right now I belong to him exclusively. Are you really OK about that?"

"Chris. You are my best friend. Even if we regret doing it, you will still be my best friend – but I don't think I will regret it. And yes, I mean it...if you don't want me inside you that's fine. Genuinely."

"See Chris? It will be OK," Said Max. "I am going to watch some television while you two go upstairs. Now go."

I have rarely felt so torn, but I knew what was in my head. I knew what was right.

"No, Max. And sorry, but `no', James."

"Why not, Chris?"

I put my arms round Max's shoulders and looked into those beautiful blue eyes.

"Because, Max, I don't want sex with anyone but you right now. I love you and I'm not sleeping with anyone else. No matter how much I love them or how I feel about them." I turned to James.

"James...it's not that I don't want to, it's just..."

He put his fingers on my lips.

"It's OK, Chris. I understand. And you know what? You're right. And it's what makes you `you'."

I could see tears in Max's eyes as he just nodded.

And that was the end of that conversation.

An hour or so later, after James had gone, and while Max and I were watching some more TV, Max turned to me and said,

"Thank you, my lion. It meant so much to me when you said that to James..."

I kissed him...and then were kissing deeply. I eventually broke the contact.

"Umm...Max...I don't know if you feel like it...but right now the part of me that is only for you badly needs you in it."

Five seconds later we were racing upstairs. In my room we stripped and Max pushed me back onto the bed. I had never seen him so hungry for me as he bent my legs back over my head and entered me in one long thrust. What followed was urgent and sweaty and when he came it was in what seemed like an endless succession of thrusts as he kicked and bucked inside me.

Afterwards he held me so tightly I could scarcely breathe.

"Oh Chris...when Klaus was...doing what he did to me...I thought I would never be doing this again with you. I love you so much."

"I love you too Max. And that was wonderful."

When he pulled out of me I could feel what seemed like a river of his cum flowing out of me. And my hole felt sore. Lack of practice, I thought.

But practice was certainly what I got over the next few weeks. We had lots of oral sex, and although I couldn't fuck Max, there was no reason why he couldn't fuck me. And I found I wanted him to do so increasingly often – and he seemed to enjoy it more and more as well.

Cornwall, when we got there, was as spectacularly beautiful as ever, and the weather was almost as kind to us as it had been the previous year. We sunbathed naked, our bodies turning gold and brown in the heat of the summer sun, with all traces of Max's ordeal gone from his body. We walked along the beach, dressed only in our shorts, holding hands. We swam to our private beach where Max entered me one sunlit evening as the tide came in. We swam back afterwards, my body still glowing inside.

After ten days, while Max was lying on the couch in the lounge, he suddenly sat up.

"Chris – I've been counting and it's been four weeks and...well...you know what I want. Or want to try anyway."

"Are you sure, Max? I don't want to risk doing any damage."

"We'll never know until we try, will we? Or maybe you don't want to be inside me anymore..."

I went over and kissed him. `If that ever happens, Max, you can castrate me with a blunt penknife.'

He pulled me to him and I could feel his hardness through his shorts.

"Come on then, let's go upstairs and find out."

We both stripped off our shorts and Max lay down on the bed. I took the pot of oil from the bedside drawer and dipped my finger in it. I put it against his entrance.

"Tell me if it hurts, Max. If it does, we stop – agreed? No `being brave' nonsense, OK?"

"OK, Chris."

I pressed my finger against him and felt it slide easily inside. Max didn't even flinch.

"So far so good, my lion. More please."

I finger-fucked him gently before adding a second finger. All Max did was sigh with pleasure.

"Looks like the surgeons did a great job, Max."

"Mmhmm. I want your cock in me, my lion. I have missed it so much."

I oiled myself up and put the tip of my cock against him. As I pushed inside, Max let out a little grunt of pain.

"Don't stop, Chris. I'm not being brave...it's not hurting or tearing...just a little uncomfortable after all this time."

"OK, if you're sure, Max."

I continued to press into him ever deeper until my balls were tight up against his bottom.

"Oh yes, my Chris...oh yes."

Despite Max's assurances that everything was OK, I took it gently – but when I finally erupted inside him it was as with an urgency that I couldn't control – my body nearly jack-knifing with the release. Afterwards, as I lay spent beside him, Max told me that I had growled as I came - but I didn't remember that.

"You truly were my lion, Chris. And now...again please" He grinned.

"I guess you really are healed up, aren't you?"

The second time was totally uninhibited, Max riding me like a whirlwind, bouncing up and down on me and yelling with uninhibited pleasure. I masturbated him as he did so and we came almost simultaneously – his cum flying in long white ropes over my chest and chin as I emptied myself inside him for a second time.

"Oh Chris, my Chris. I have missed this so much. So very much."

I pulled him down onto my chest and we kissed, his cum sticky between us. And then tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"What's the matter, Max?"

"Oh Chris...I was so afraid that this would never happen again. That either I wouldn't be able to or that I'd find I couldn't after what Klaus did to me. But I can...and it's wonderful – better than ever in fact. I love you so much, Chris."

"And I love you too, Max."

We made love for a third time later on – a long, slow celebration of our endless hunger for one another – and then we slept, Max cuddled up close against me. We must have dozed for an hour or so before I came to. Max was still snuggled up against me, fast asleep. I stroked his hair. Eventually he opened one eye.

"That feels so nice, Chris."

"I love lying naked with you – even when we don't do stuff. Just having you here beside me is magical, Max."

He reached a hand down between my legs.

"You can't want to do it again, Max?"

"Why not? I've been a virgin for nearly six weeks." He moved himself half on top of me and kissed me. "And you turn me on so much - and I'm still horny as hell."

Despite my misgivings, I felt myself harden at his touch – and then he was straddling me and taking me inside him again and...well, the rest was predictable. When I slipped wetly out of him, my balls were definitely aching.

"If you want any more, it's going to have to be you doing it to me."

"Goody," was all he said.

And so he did it to me. Twice.

There isn't much more to tell, really. We had a wonderful time in Cornwall and then I went back to Frankfurt with Max for a week. We had some fun with Hansi, all three of us, but somehow Max and I both knew that something had changed.

Maybe what we did with Hansi was the catalyst, but we started to talk a lot about what we did with other guys when we were apart – and we both decided that it had to stop. I don't know whether it was Max's abduction, or whether it was just that we had grown even closer together, but I just knew that I didn't want – and wouldn't need – sex with anyone but Max ever again. In some ways it was easier for me; Dan had graduated so I wouldn't be open to temptation with him, but I knew it was harder for Max. Hansi was very much still around. But Max was adamant that we would both be totally faithful to one another.

We had one last session with Hansi after which Max took him aside and explained how things needed to be. Hansi proved what a lovely guy and a real friend he was by instantly accepting it.

"I am just so grateful for the fun I have had with both of you. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I have had sex with two of the sexiest boys in the world – how can I have any regrets. And what you have decided is right. I hope we can still be friends."

"Of course, Hansi. The best of friends."

We hugged, and we kissed and that was it. And we did remain the best of friends, all three of us.

And Max and I stuck to our promise to one another. We made up for lost time during the vacations when we visited one another. Oh boy did we make up – and there was one magical week in the Summer term when Max came to Oxford to set up his exchange year. Quite a few guys in College knew I was gay by then, but many more probably did by the time Max left. We fucked like rabbits during that week. Noisy rabbits. Very, very noisy rabbits.

And when we weren't doing that, Max was charming my friends with his easy manner, his engaging wit and his smile that could melt a heart at fifty paces. I even introduced him to Lucy who fell for him at once and who he, in turn, absolutely adored. And Max also had news of Hansi; he had found a lovely long-term boyfriend and they were both very happy. I was pleased for him.

As for James, whatever we may have thought he was becoming, that same summer he found a lovely girl who captured his heart and all of a sudden he was entirely, and heterosexually, monogamous. They both came and stayed with Max and me for a weekend at the Lodge in Cornwall. Helen was a lovely girl and we soon became firm friends - and remain so to this day. And although James and I sometimes reminisce about the relationship we had, neither of us has ever felt any desire to revisit the time when it briefly had a sexual side to it.

After the summer holiday, Max and I went to Oxford to look for a flat to share for the year that he was going to be in England. We found a lovely place just outside the city centre –which his parents insisted on paying the rent for. That whole year – my final year at Oxford - was magical. Max and I became a fully-fledged couple – living, eating and sleeping together and falling ever more deeply in love. Some couples once they actually move in together seem to lose the passion; not with Max and me. If anything, our sex life became even more all-consuming. We made love at every available opportunity – sometimes quick and urgent, Max with his trousers round his ankles as I took him over the table - sometimes long and slow. Some Sundays we didn't move from the bed until finally, filled at both ends with one another's cum, we'd stagger into the shower and then cook up whatever was in the fridge as a (very) late lunch to restore our strength.

My finals came and went and I got a very good second – which given the amount of time I had spent playing University and College hockey over my time there was a minor miracle. Oh, and I forgot to say that I got my hockey Blue in both my second and third years, drawing with Cambridge first time and winning (hurrah!) on the second.

Max had to go back to Germany to finish the final year of his course. Having graduated a few months earlier, I went with him. My German was pretty fluent by then and I got a job with an international bank in Frankfurt. Once Max had graduated, he decided he wanted to teach and so we spent another year there while he qualified. Then, out of the blue, the bank wanted me to take up a post in London. Max was happy to move and he found himself a teaching post at a school in the city without any problem. By now I was earning good money and we bought a lovely flat overlooking the river. We also started playing hockey for the same club, initially for the first XI - with whom, one year, we won the National title - and now, as time takes its toll, in the second XI.

And while our environments and circumstances have changed, the one thing that hasn't is our love for one another. Max is now a deputy head and I'm a VP in a (different) bank - but we still can't keep our hands off one another; deep down inside we are still the horny teenagers that we were when we met all those years ago. And Sundays are the best.

On one particular Sunday, as Max and I relaxed (in bed, of course), he slowly drew a finger over my chest and then spread the palm of his hand over the blond fuzz there. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked into my eyes.

"Umm...Chris...I know this may sound weird but...how would you feel about tying me up – just with some ribbons – and then making love to me? I love running my hands over your body when you're inside me – but I wonder if it would be even more intense if I wanted to do that but couldn't?"

"We can try that if you'd like, Max. I've never really liked any of that BDSM stuff..."

"Me neither, Chris. You know how I feel about that after what happened to me...but this wouldn't be like that. There'd be no pain or force involved...just a restriction that would make me focus even harder on what you were doing to me – how you were making me feel." He must have seen the uncertainty in my eyes. "Look, If you don't want to, that's fine – I'm really sorry I even asked."

"Hey, Max. You know that I love the way you can just say what's on your mind. And it's not that I don't want to...I just don't want to dig up any...unhappy memories."

Max kissed me. "You won't. This is you we're talking about - and a few bits of ribbon." He moved his hand down between my legs and took hold of me. I hardened at his touch.

"...and with or without ribbon, I want this inside me, please. Right now. And I want you on top of me."

He rolled over on to his front. I pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his hole and then ran my tongue down his spine, all the way to his pucker. I licked it and felt him squirm at the touch. I probed his entrance, forcing my tongue inside him.

"Oh yes, my Chris. So good."

I reached under him and wrapped my hand round his rigid erection, giving it a squeeze.

"Take me, Chris. Please. Now."

I moved my body up the bed and sat up across the back of his thighs, straddling him. I put the tip of my cock against his hole and entered him. He groaned as my full length filled him. What followed was urgent, intense – and noisy. My thighs slapped against him and Max alternately moaned and groaned as I brought him ever closer to a climax. With a final thrust, I drove as deep as I could into him, before releasing the flood of my seed deep into his guts. Still inside him, I rolled over, pulling him on top of me so that I could grasp his cock. It only took a couple of strokes before a gout of white cum shot into the air and rained down over my hand and his stomach. Spent, we just lay there, Max still impaled on my cock as we got our breath back. I whispered in his ear, "umm...if you happen to have those ribbons, we could give it a go."

Max giggled. "Admit it, the idea actually turns you on."

"Maybe." I said.

Max rolled off me, "As it happens, I might just have what we need."

"You kinky beast – how long have you been planning this?"

"Only since Friday. And don't pretend you're not pleased," he said over his shoulder as he headed out of the door. He returned about two minutes later carrying half a dozen long, two-inch wide strips of pink ribbon.

"Pink?" I said.

"It was that or black...and black would have felt creepy. Anyway – does the colour really matter?"

"I guess not. So how do we do this?"

Max doubled the ribbon, put it round one wrist then fed the loose ends through the loop, and repeated it for his other hand. He lay on the bed and put his arms above his head.

"Now, you tie the loose ends round the poles on either end of the bedstead and then you repeat what I've done around my ankles and tie those to the other end of the bed."

"You really have planned this, haven't you?"

"I think prepared is better."

As I tied his hands round the posts, I could see his cock pulsing from soft to hard. He was clearly very turned on by what we were doing. And I have to say, I felt a little thrill run through me. With his ankles secured, Max was now spread-eagled, naked and erect on the bed. A thought occurred to me, and I went into the dressing room.

"Where are you going?" Max enquired.

"Be right back." I opened the wardrobe and found what I was looking for. Max had been given a very traditional hat the previous year which had a feather sticking up out of the hatband on one side. I pulled it free and went back into the bedroom.

When Max saw what I had in my hand, he started to wriggle. "Don't you dare tickle me. You know how sensitive I am."

I grinned. "And what exactly are you going to do about it, Max?"

I ran the tip of the feather from his chin, down over his chest and his stomach. I could see the muscles quiver at the touch. And then I ran it down his cock and over his balls, and then down the inside of his thighs.

Max's eyes were screwed shut, and he was biting his lip. He shuddered as I ran the feather back the way it had come.

"Oh my God, Chris. That's amazing. Run it up and down my cock again."

I did so, and a little bead of precum appeared at the tip. I took the feather and ran it up the Max's side. His eyes popped open and his body jerked away at the touch.

"That tickles."

I put the feather down and licked the precum off the tip of his cock.

"So how does it feel to be tied up?"

"Kind of sexy – because it is you who has done it. I feel horny as hell. But to fuck me you are going to have to tie my legs back over my head." He looked at me with a big grin.

I untied his ankles and then brought them back over his head and retied them to the posts at the top of the bed. That left his legs spread-eagled and his hole gaping invitingly at me. I put my hand between his legs and pulled his rock-hard cock back towards me. Max gasped. I masturbated him slowly with one hand and slipped first one and then two fingers of my other hand inside him. He was still wet and sticky from earlier. I knelt on the bed between his legs and entered him. His eyes were alight with lust as I fucked him deep and slow. I could see him twisting his hands as his instincts drove him to try and touch me – but the ribbons prevented him from doing so. He started to buck and twist as the pleasure got more and more intense and then suddenly, without my touching it, his cock was spurting cum. He groaned with the release and seconds later I was filling him again.

"Oh my god, I've never come without even being touched before. Was it as good for you?"

"I admit it – it was a turn-on, Max."

He smiled. "See – I knew it."

I gave his bottom a slap.

"Ouch."

I smiled, and did it again – a bit harder. I saw his cock begin to thicken, so I smacked him again.

"Scheisse."

"You're enjoying it, Max. Your cock is a giveaway." I saw that his bottom was already a little pink as I smacked him again.

"Aargh. That hurt."

"Do you want me to stop?"

He poked his tongue out at me.

"I'll take that as a `no'," I said, smacking him again on the other cheek. By now Max had started to wriggle around as I continued to smack him, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard. His cock was standing stiffly to attention, so I pulled it back between his legs and took it in my mouth. It only took seven or eight sucks before he was shooting another load down my throat.

I sat up and untied him. "So...looks like smacking is a turn-on for you as much as being tied up."

"I like feeling under your control, Chris. Is that bad?"

"Not if it makes you happy, Max. And certainly not if it means we get to have even more sex." I grinned at him.

"I like sex."

"So do I."

"Good. Let's do it again. Want to be tied up?"

I shook my head. "No thanks, Max – if that's OK?"

"It's fine. In that case, turn over."

I rolled onto my front and felt Max slide down the bed. The next thing I knew, his tongue was worming its way into my hole. I sighed with pleasure.

"Ready for something a little bigger?" asked Max.

"Mmm...always."

He entered me slowly before beginning a rhythmic thrusting that sent waves of pleasure through me.

"I love the feel of you inside me, Max."

"And I am always happy to oblige," he said, picking up the pace. He put his hands on my shoulders, pulling me into him with each thrust. He was grunting with the effort - and then I felt him tense before, with a groan, he climaxed inside me. He collapsed on my back and nibbled my ear.

"I love you so much, Chris." He rolled off me and I turned over so that we were facing each other on our sides. I kissed him and ran my fingers through his hair.

"I am so happy, Max. I can't imagine life without you."

"Me either, Chris."

We just lay there holding each other – sweaty, sticky...and utterly content.

Although the ribbons had been kind of fun – and we did dig them out from time to time – in truth I preferred it when Max was free to let his feelings run uninhibited. The occasional scratch marks on my back, or a bleeding lip, or a nip on my foreskin were prices I deemed well worth paying for the intensity of the love-making that had led to them. Although no longer in our teens, we were both athletic, fit young men who loved sex. The result was usually sweaty, often noisy and almost always messy – and I was grateful for the solid concrete construction of the walls and floors in our apartment that at least prevented us from disturbing the neighbours. Max also enjoyed having sex on the balcony – his exhibitionist tendencies relishing the theoretical possibility that those walking the street some hundred feet below us might be able to see us making love.

Whilst not trumpeting it from the rooftops, Max and I were perfectly open about being gay and a couple. At the bank this wasn't a problem – and I took Max along as my partner to all the company functions. My boss told me that actually it was quite good for business, as gay clients were happy to see that the bank was genuinely tolerant – indeed supportive – of gay men. It was mostly the same story for Max; there were some parents, inevitably, who seemed to confuse being gay with being a child molester, but they were in a tiny minority. Max's openness and charm won over parents, staff and pupils alike – and the gay pupils couldn't have had a finer role model; they, in particular, adored Max.

James is still our best friend – and I'm godfather to his son. Hansi has been to visit with his boyfriend, and we had a lovely weekend showing them round London. When we go to Germany to visit Max's family, we sometimes see Sigi – who, inevitably, still tries to persuade us that we want to have sex with him.

We exchange Christmas cards with Jamie and Steve, both of whom are married. Jamie told us that Steve and his wife are both openly bisexual, and that they both, with the other's consent, have same-sex partners outside their marriage.

And then there's Tim. Tim has a partner – a lovely guy called Fabio who he met in his final year at York; Fabio is half-Italian, and his jet black hair and olive skin couldn't be more of a contrast with Tim's flame-red hair and pale complexion. They, too, have come to visit us and we count them amongst our closest friends.

As for Matt and Jonathan, they duly took up their places at Oxford. They seemed to be a devoted couple for the year for which we crossed over, and they occasionally visited Max and me in our flat. We lost contact with them when we moved to Germany, but I later heard that they split up during their second year - although I never discovered the details. I sometimes wonder if we'll bump into Matt again in Cornwall one day – but it hasn't happened so far.

Max's parents and mine have met up on three or four occasions now; they get on really well together, which makes Max and me very happy. And he and I have each become a second son to the other's parents. So life is good – and long may it remain that way. Looking back, it all seems a world away from that Sunday afternoon in the bath at school, when a wonderful boy first showed me what I was – and taught me how to celebrate it.

...and Max and I still go and put flowers by his plaque in the churchyard outside Newbury each Easter.

© CM 2017

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