The Hockey Boys

Same disclaimers and warnings apply as to Part 1.

Thanks for the feedback so far - please keep it coming to nesteuk@yahoo.co.uk

With only a couple of weeks to go until the end of term, the hockey XI was still unbeaten, and we had received an invitation to play in a tournament in Holland in the first week of the holidays. Everyone was up for it, parents were consulted and the trip was confirmed. It was an international tournament with two schools from each of Holland, Germany, Belgium and the UK taking part. The other UK school was from the North of England.

The end of term seemed to be suddenly on us. Those of us playing in the tournament went home for a night, then met up at Liverpool Street Station in London two days later ready to travel to Harwich and take the ferry across to The Hague. The tournament was being sponsored by a local hotel group, and we were all going to be accommodated in one of their best hotels. On the ferry we were told to find someone we were happy to share a room with - which didn't take Mark and me very long to decide.

The Hotel Van der Hof turned out to be palatial. Mark and I were shown to a room that had two double beds in it as well as a sofa. The en-suite bathroom had a huge whirlpool bath and a massive shower. We unpacked our bags and put our kit in the cupboard ready for the following day. We were due at a reception downstairs at 6 that evening and the tournament started the following day. I looked at my watch. Three pm. I flung myself down on the nearest bed and sank into the most comfortable mattress I had ever experienced. Mark flopped down beside me.

'Hey...you've got your own bed. Bugger off.' I gave him a shove.

'If you're not very careful, I will.'

I pulled him on top of me.

'We have three hours before we're due downstairs. Any ideas?'

'I have lots of ideas. Why don't we go and get nice and clean and then see what the springs on this mattress are like?'

'I love your thinking.'

We stripped off and headed into the bathroom. The shower had a big central drain and two separate shower hoses as well as the big shower head in the centre. As had become our habit, we soaped each other and washed each other's hair. We stood with our arms around each other under the water, watching the lather run off us, swirl round the drain and disappear. We hardened against one another. We kissed.

'Come on Chris, time to get clean inside as well. I need you. Really need you.'

We unscrewed the fittings from the top of the secondary shower hoses, turned on the water and put the jets against our holes. I felt myself filling up and then the water was flowing out as well as in. We both kept going until the water ran clear.

'There's something I want to do, Chris, before we go to bed.'

'I'm all yours.'

'Turn around.'

I did. I sensed Mark kneeling down behind me. I felt his hands pulling my butt cheeks apart, and then I felt his tongue on my pucker. I felt him lapping at me, probing me. I felt his tongue slip slightly inside me. It was like an electric shock running through me. It was sensuous, erotic and had me moaning with pleasure.

'That's absolutely amazing Mark' I said with a groan,'...but I feel like I'm going to explode - and I want to be in you when I do.'

He gave me a gentle smack on the bottom. 'Your wish is my command.'

We dried off and Mark lay on the bed. I pulled him towards me until he was on the edge of the mattress. I pushed his legs back over his shoulders and saw his pink pucker looking up at me. I know I said I wouldn't, but I did. I put my face between his cheeks and flicked my tongue against his hole. It contracted. Almost like a wink. I giggled.

'What's so funny?'

'Your hole just winked at me.'

Mark giggled. 'Wink or not, it felt bloody marvellous. Do it again.'

I did, this time licking it more firmly. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that it didn't taste unpleasant. We'd both just showered and it just tasted...like the rest of Mark did. I tried probing it with my tongue. It gave a little. Mark moaned. I figured it would be worth some further exploration but right now I wanted to be buried deep inside him. I realised we didn't have any KY.

'Just use spit, Chris. You've fucked me a good few times, you should be able to penetrate me OK.'

I did as he said, using as much spit as I could. There was a lot more friction than with jelly, but I slowly slipped an inch or so inside him. I pulled out and added more saliva. This time it seemed to slide in more easily, and I was soon in as far as I could go.

'God it feels good to have you in me, Chris. I've missed this so much.'

'Me too, Mark.'

We made love slowly. It somehow felt right. After maybe ten minutes Mark pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around my neck. I felt his feet lock around my waist.

'See if you can stand up without coming out of me.'

I put my arms under the small of Mark's back and lifted. I was strong and Mark weighed less than me, but I could feel my stomach muscles complaining and my lower back tightening....and then he was up. He was in my arms, completely off the ground, impaled on me. His lips met mine.

'Oh fuck this feels good.'

It did feel good, but it was almost impossible to keep fucking him in this position. I walked over to the sofa, carrying him and laid him down on it. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't sophisticated, but we were suddenly overtaken by an urgent need to reach a climax. Mark had been stroking himself as I thrust in and out of him. I took his hand off his cock and replaced it with mine. I could feel myself ready to blow and I as I did so I felt him twitch in my hand and then he was pumping his load all over his chest as I filled him.

'Fuck. Welcome to Holland.'

We rested for a few moments, then Mark sat up.

'I love you so much Chris. Don't ever stop loving me.'

'Not going to happen, Mark. We belong to each other. We were made for each other - and we've found each other.'

We must have fallen asleep, because the next thing there was a banging on the door and Mr. Walton, our hockey coach was saying 'Downstairs in twenty minutes. Get yourselves ready please.'

We had the world's fastest shower and then put on the required school blazer and chinos and were waiting at the lift as other members of the team appeared. There were boys from other schools there too, including a really (really) cute boy with a mass of brown curly hair and blue eyes and a slightly turned up nose. He looked me straight in the eyes. A little smile played fleetingly round his lips and he held out his hand.

'Max Schell from Frankfurt,' he said in very good English, 'You are here for the tournament too?'

'Chris Alexander, pleased to meet you. Yes, we're here for the tournament. This is my friend Mark.'

Max flicked his eyes away from mine and looked at Mark, then held out his hand.

'Nice to meet you too, Mark.' His eyes switched back to mine, holding my gaze.

'I'm very sorry, but I don't speak German,' I said. 'Your English is excellent.'

'Thank you. I have a British grandfather. Please.' He held out his hand as the lift door opened.

We stepped in and I pressed the button for the foyer. Max stood opposite me. He was about my height and had a similar build. He was smartly dressed in a dark green jacket and pale coloured trousers. I noticed a faint smell of Eau Sauvage. I also noticed that his eyes barely left mine. I smiled at him and he gave me a huge smile back.

'I hope we will have a chance to get to know each other better during the tournament,' he said as the doors opened at the foyer.

'Me too, Max. See you later.'

As we went off to find the rest of our group, Mark said,

Did what I think just happened, happen?'

'What do you think just happened?'

'I think that there is a certain German boy who is almost certainly gay and who definitely fancies the pants off you, and I think he just made half a pass at you.'

'You think everyone fancies me.'

'That's because most of them fucking well do. You are a walking sex magnet. You must give off some kind of invisible aura. Of course the fact that you're bloody gorgeous helps.'

'Then we definitely need to consider a threesome - purely in the cause of international relations.'

'You are bloody insatiable. I assume you're joking?'

'Yes, I'm joking....probably.' I added with a wicked smile.

Mark looked at me.

'Well...he was damn good looking, you have to admit.'

Mark shook his head. 'A monster, that's what I've created. A monster.'

I punched him on the shoulder.

'Hey, we're here to play hockey for five days. There won't be time for anything else.'

At the reception we had a chance to meet all the other teams . I spent some time with a couple of the boys from Northcliff, the other English school, and was introduced to members of the two Dutch teams, one of whose sports grounds we were going to be using for the tournament. Everyone was charming. As I headed over to the buffet to pick up some food, Max appeared.

'Hi Chris. I was wondering where you had got to. When you have some food, please let me introduce you to some of the other members of my team.'

'Sure, Max. I'd like that.'

He touched me on the arm.

'Excellent. We are over there.' He pointed across to a group that I could now see were dressed in similar green jackets.

'Great. Be with you soon.'

At the buffet Mark wandered over.

'I see lover boy has returned,' he said.

'Mark...he is not my 'lover boy', he just wants to introduce me to some of his friends. Why don't you come over too?'

'I'm actually having a really nice chat with one of the Belgian guys. Come on over after you've met the Germans.'

'OK, will do. '

The food on the buffet was excellent and varied. There seemed to be quite a lot of Indonesian style stuff which was all delicious. I put a selection on a plate and went over to find Max.

'Chris!'

He put an arm round my shoulder .

'May I introduce Mattheus, Friedrich and Erwin'

The three boys all held out their hands and I shook them one by one. Mattheus and Erwin were unremarkable but pleasant looking, but Friedrich had a shock of the fairest hair I had ever seen. Blonder even than mine and with the same green eyes that I had - eyes that he locked on mine. He had full lips and an open face and a lovely smile. He nodded at me before breaking eye contact.

'This is the boy I told you about who I met in the lift,' said Max.

'I must apologise to all of you that I don't speak German, but I am very pleased to meet you.'

'That is OK. It is good for us to have the opportunity to speak English,' said Friedrich.

'So...what position do you play?' he added.

'I play in attack.'

'Ah...me too. Max here is our star defender though. Maybe you will be...how do you say...opposite him...on the pitch.'

'I shall look forward to...taking the balls off you,' said Max with a smile.

'I shall look forward to you trying.' I smiled back.

'Ah...a battle already' said Erwin. 'Your school has had a good season?'

'Unbeaten.'

'Us too. I look forward more and more now to meeting you on the pitch.'

'And off it as well' said Max, looking straight into my eyes.

'It's good to meet you all. Would you excuse me, I need to find my friend.'

'Of course. We look forward to seeing more of you.'

As I walked away, I heard Max say. 'Er ist sehr gutaussenhender, nein, Friedrich?'

'Ja. Bestimmt. Schon anzusehen. Aber nicht schwule, ich denke.'

'Ach...Ich hoffe es.'

'Viel Gluck.'

I may not speak German, but I have a good memory. One of the other boys on the team was studying German for A level. I would ask him.

I went to find Mark. He was talking with a boy who must have been four inches taller than either of us.

'Oh, hi Chris. This is Antoine. He's a goalkeeper.'

We shook hands. Antoine turned out to be good company. His English was virtually flawless and he liked the same sort of music as Mark and me. We talked for a while, but we had been told to mingle, so mingle we did.

I found Paul Day, my teammate who was the language student, emerging from the toilet.

'Oh Hi, Paul. Could you translate something for me? It's German.'

'I can try.'

'OK. What's gutaussenhender?'

'Umm...that means good looking or handsome.'

'And schon anzusehen?'

'Ummm...'easy-on-the-eye', I think'

'And schule?'

'Umm...school, I think.

'And ich hoffe es?'

'I hope so'

'And viel gluck?'

'Good luck'

'Oh...OK...thanks.'

'Why?'

'Just something some of the German boys said as I left them. I wondered what it meant.'

'OK...no problem. Looking forward to the games tomorrow?'

'Yes. Is there a timetable for the fixtures?'

'Over there. We play one of the Belgian schools in the morning and then a German one in the afternoon. We have seven games in four days, then a final if we make it that far. It's pretty demanding.'

I went over to look at the schedule. I tried to make sense of what the German boys had said. Somebody - maybe me - was handsome, but not in school which Max hoped was the case and then he was wished good luck. It didn't seem to make much sense. Maybe `schule' wasn't school. Maybe I could ask Max next time I saw him.

The reception finished at 8. Max came over and chatted with me about all sorts of things. We had stuff in common, it turned out. As we parted, he insisted on giving me a hug. As we held each other, I could feel that he had a firm body - and he smelled nice. The Eau Sauvage was stronger close up. He held the hug for several seconds and then as we broke the hug, he held me so close that our noses almost touched. His breath was clean and fresh. He looked me in the eyes and said,

'I like you very much, Chris. I hope we can become good friends.'

'I like you too Max. I hope so too.'

And I did. My body was betraying me. As he had held me I had felt my loins stir.

We had a short team meeting. We had brought fourteen players and Mr. Walton ran through the selection for the first game tomorrow.

'Seven games - and possibly an eighth - in four days is a lot. Everyone will have at least one game off, probably two provided everyone stays fit and healthy. We'll start with Chris, Mark and Peter on the bench for the first game, but with the full first XI for the second against the Germans. They are unbeaten like us and have a big reputation. Nothing that we can't handle however. Right. Big day tomorrow and a very tiring schedule. Early nights - you can all go out and let your hair down on the final night - if you behave - but you need to get plenty of rest these next few days if we are going to win this thing. OK, off you go. Chris, Mark, Peter - a quick word before you leave, please..'

Once the others had left, Mr Walton spoke to us.

'I am resting you three to start with because, first, you are the fittest and the others will need a mid-tournament break more than you. Second, despite what I said, you boys will almost certainly be playing all the games except the first. It is crucial that you stay fit. Get a massage, have a sauna, use whatever facilities the hotel has if you need them. And I meant what I said about plenty of rest. OK?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I think we can drop the 'sir' out of school. Mr. Walton is fine.'

Mark and I went to explore where the swimming pool, sauna and gym were in the hotel. Massages could be booked in your room, apparently.

'There's a bit of me could do with a massage right now.' said Mark.

'You are a sex mad pervert.'

'OK...it's a fair cop. I admit to being sex mad - for you. And wanting to do it with YOU almost certainly means I'm perverted.' He grinned and raced off up the stairs.

'Why you...' I tore off after him and we arrived at the door of our room at almost the same moment. Mark was just putting the key in the door, when Max appeared around the corner.

'Ah...this is a coincidence. I have the room opposite. You two share a room?'

'Yes. All our team are sharing.'

'Ah, OK. I have this room all to myself. At least for now. I shall see you in the morning.'

'Good night Max.'

'Good night Chris. Good night Mark.'

We first both went and lay in the second bed and ruffled it up a bit before moving back to the other bed. Wouldn't do for anyone visiting our room to see only one bed had been slept in. I told Mark about the hug and how it had made me feel.

'Look, you're a gay boy and he's sexy... yes...OK, I admit it, he is. Getting a stiffy would be normal. But I trust you.'

I told Mark about the German conversation and how it didn't make sense.

'Oh well...ask Max tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm in need of some fresh cream.'

He disappeared under the covers and I felt his mouth engulf me.

I ended up returning the favour before we both fell asleep.

In the morning we showered and changed into our kit, complete with brand new tracksuits consisting of bright red tops and navy blue bottoms with our school name on the back and our initials on top left of the front, and went down to breakfast. The Germans must either have eaten earlier or later, as I didn't see Max or any of his team-mates. At 9 we got into a mini-bus to take us to the sports ground. The trip took twenty minutes before we arrived at a wonderful complex with two state-of-the-art artificial turf pitches. It turned out that three local schools shared the facilities, which were far superior to anything we had in England - at least at schools level.

We were fortunate that our school did at least have its own astroturf pitch, so we were used to playing on the surface. The other English school was more accustomed to playing on grass, and I feared that they might find the demands of the different surface hard to cope with.

The format of the tournament meant that there were two consecutive games in the morning and two in the afternoon on each pitch.

We were due on in the first set of games in the morning at 10 o'clock, and then again in the afternoon in the second set at 3.30. This was good news, giving us the maximum amount of time to recover between our two matches.

I saw that Max's team were on second in the morning which would give us a chance to watch them once our game was over and before we met them that afternoon.

All fourteen of us warmed up, even though Mark, Peter and I were not playing in the first game. I saw the German minibus arrive, their team dressed in all-black tracksuits. I saw Max look across at our team, see me, and wave. I waved back.

The Belgian team we were playing was not the one that Antoine played for. The opening ten minutes were a bit cagey as our team settled down and got a feel for the strength of the opposition. The German team had all come over to watch; I guess they were as keen to see what they would be up against as we would be when their turn came to play. Mark, Peter and I, along with Mr. Walton, were in the substitutes area on the other side of the pitch.

The first significant chance of the game came when we were awarded a penalty corner. The ball was pushed out and stopped perfectly, and Mike, our powerful centre back, hammered his shot home, the ball hitting the backboard with a satisfying crash. The Belgians were useful but only had a couple of players who posed any real threat. Nick Jenkins managed to release our centre forward with a lovely through ball just before half time. The keeper rushed out to meet him but that made things easy, and the ball was soon in the back of the goal. 2-0.

The second half was rather one-sided. We had complete control of the midfield and our defence was hardly troubled. We made a mess of a couple of good chances but scored twice more for a final 4-0 victory.

Mark and I joined the team as they left the field, Max and his team were already warming up for their game. As we passed them he said. 'Good win, but you will find us rather more of a handful I think.'

'I'm looking forward to it.'

'You will be watching our game now?'

'You bet. Always good to know your enemy.'

'Quite so, Even if your enemy is your friend.'

'Especially when your enemy is your friend,' I said with a smile. He laughed.

Friedrich and one other boy who I didn't recognise were not playing in the Germans first game, but Max, Ernst and Matheus all were. It was clear from the start that they were a very useful side. Better than their Dutch opponents and much better than the Belgians we had just played.

They were one up within five minutes, and two up after twenty. The Dutch rallied and put together some useful attacks but Max was clearly a seriously good player, snuffing out the threats before they could develop into anything really dangerous. Given that he was the general commanding the defence that I would have to beat if I was going to score against them that afternoon, I began to look more closely for weaknesses. There wasn't much to go on but I reckoned the left back could probably be beaten on the outside. If that dragged Max across then we needed to set up our attack to have a runner into the space that that would create. I shared the idea with Mr. Walton who nodded thoughtfully.

'Good spot, Chris. Let's discuss it when we meet before the next game.'

The Germans ran out 4-0 winners.

I walked over to congratulate Max. He was shiny with sweat but smiling - a smile that got bigger when he saw me. We shook hands, and then he turned those bright blue eyes on me.

'Good, no?'

'Very impressive. You are an excellent player. I think it will be a good game this afternoon.'

'Good, and thank you. I am sorry that I didn't get to see you play this morning. You are well?'

'Yes, I'm fine. I was rested for the first game.'

'OK. So you will surprise me this afternoon.'

'I certainly hope so.'

The changing rooms were spacious, but with eight teams using them, they were busy. In an attempt to encourage the teams to mix and get to know each other, two teams had been assigned to each of the four changing rooms and I was curiously pleased to find that ours was shared by the German team that Max played for. Each pair of two changing rooms shared a shower area that led off them.

A light lunch had been provided and our team picked up what they wanted and went to talk about the afternoon's game. We shared our thoughts on what we had seen of the German team that morning and how best to both control their attack and pierce their defence.

'Just play the hockey you've played all season. They are good but you are better. They were given time by the Dutch boys this morning and that is what you have to focus on. Get on them fast, block the spaces, knock them off their rhythm. The rest will follow. They also have a couple of boys who want to be heroes. Don't fall into that trap. Let the ball and the spaces do the work. Think triangles and move the ball around. Do it right and they will be chasing shadows - and getting very tired. Focus really hard in the last ten minutes and don't worry if they score first. Winning is as much in your head as in your sticks.'

We watched the first game of the afternoon. One of the teams playing would be our first match on the following day. They were well organised but uninspired. I reckoned we could hold them without too much trouble and would just have to be patient in attack. I didn't see anything to worry me.

Then it was time for us to play. The two teams all shook hands with each other, and then it was game on. They came at us hard, but our defence was well-organised and resilient. After the initial few minutes, Mark gradually began to gain control of the midfield. I had dropped back to create four across the centre, which is what we did if we came up against a press attack. Friedrich, the blond boy I had met the day before, was opposite me in this formation. He was tricksy but I was wise to that type of player and managed either to beat him to the ball, dispossess him, or force him to pass whenever he became my responsibility. This got him frustrated - which is as good as taking someone out of the game in my experience.

Having weathered the storm and gained midfield control, I reverted to my attacking role which put me up against Max and his co-defenders. He was good, there was no doubt about it, particularly his positioning which made it hard to create cracks in the defence. I got round him once, and laid the ball perfectly into Paul's path, but his shot was brilliantly saved by the keeper. Half time was 0-0.

At the start of the second half we got caught cold and conceded a penalty corner. They did it well, used a switch and the ball was in our net. We worked as hard as we had ever worked for the next twenty minutes. We probed and pushed, we pulled them out of position but couldn't find a finish. With five minutes to go we won a penalty corner, but their keeper was having one of those days, pulling off another top class save. I saw the umpires exchange the two minute signal. Then Mark picked up the ball in the middle of the park and delicately scooped it over two players, giving me space down the right. I beat the left wing easily and got round the left back. I saw Max drift across and dropped the ball back into the space he had come from. This time Paul made no mistake, crashing the ball into the net. And that's how it finished. 1-1.

We shook hands again afterwards. It had been a wonderful game. Our hosts, who had been watching, were applauding both sides off the pitch.

We had a quick debrief and then I walked over to where Max and Friedrich were standing.

'Some game, Chris, some game.'

'Indeed. You had an excellent game yourself.'

'Thank you. You too. That last goal was very well made. And Mark, he is ...exceptional I think.'

'I certainly think so,' I said with a smile, 'And you too, Friedrich, you played well.'

'I was not good enough. You frustrated me, you are a fine player,' he said with a rueful smile.

'That was my job.'

He nodded.

'So...you come for a shower now?' said Max.

'I was planning on showering back at the hotel. All my clothes and my towel are there.'

He looked disappointed.

'We have plenty of spare towels if you want to freshen up.'

I was tempted. The idea of seeing him - and the other boys - naked in the shower was definitely interesting.

'I'll come with you anyway. I have something I want to ask you.'

'OK, good.'

As we walked back to the changing rooms, Mark came and joined me.

'Ah...the midfield general,' said Max. 'You were quite excellent, Mark.'

'Thanks, Max. We don't often come up against defenders as good as you either.'

'Thank you.'

'Max wanted to know if we wanted to shower here rather than at the hotel. He has spare towels.'

'I think I'll wait...is that OK with you?'

'It's fine, Mark.' I turned to Max. 'We'll bring towels and a change of clothes tomorrow. We weren't sure if there would be facilities here, but now we know that there are, we might as well do that.'

Max inclined his head. 'OK. But if there is something you wanted to ask me, will you wait while I shower first? I feel a little...sweaty... and I'm sure I don't smell so good.' He smiled.

'Sure, Max.'

'OK, Max, nice to see you,' said Mark, 'Chris - I'll see you back at the minibus in a bit.'

I went back to the changing room with Max and several other members of the German team. I followed Max over to his locker and sat down on the bench. Max stripped off his track suit and shirt. He had a great body. Nicely toned. Lightly muscled. Completely smooth. He sat down and took off his shoes and socks, then stood up and slipped off his shorts. Dressed only in his jock strap, I could see that whatever he was packing filled the pouch comfortably. He turned to half-face me as he put his fingers into the sides of his jock and pulled it down.

His cock was beautiful. Four inches of smooth, dark flesh with his foreskin making a perfect rosebud above the tip. A nice pair of balls hung below it. But the most startling thing was that he had no pubic hair at all. He reached up and grabbed a towel, smiled at me and disappeared into the showers.

Opposite me Friedrich had also taken his kit off and was making his way into the shower. He ruffled his mop of blond hair as walked past me. He had a sprinkle of freckles across his shoulders and a slim, toned body with a mass of blond hair in his groin.

Everyone else had left the changing room by the time first Friedrich and then Max reappeared. Friedrich got changed quickly and with a wave at both of us disappeared out of the door. Max had sat down on the bench beside me, his skin pink from the heat of the shower.

'So. Alone together. This is nice.'

He finished towelling himself off and stood up.

'If you are wondering about the lack of hair down here,' he pointed to his groin, 'I shave it off. I always have. And from under my arms as well.'

He lifted his arms which were as bare as his groin.

'I prefer it that way. My team mates may think it's a little weird, but I do it for me and not for them. It's OK to look...I am not embarrassed.'

He started to get dressed. 'Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?'

He pulled up his pants - a pair of small black briefs that looked very sexy on him - and buttoned up his shirt.

'Last night, when I left you, I heard you saying something in German to Friedrich. I asked one of my team mates what it meant but it doesn't seem to make any sense.'

Max pulled up his trousers and did them up. 'OK, what did you think I said?'

'You said that someone was gutaussenhender. My friend said that meant 'handsome' is that right?'

'Yes. It means handsome or good looking.'

'Were you talking about me?'

'Of course. You are very handsome. In fact, the most handsome boy I have ever met.'

'Umm...thank you. Then Friedrich said something about me not being in school?'

'School? I don't think so.'

'Schule...I think was the word.'

Max laughed. 'Oh no, not Schule... Schwule. Schwule means 'gay'.' He smiled at me.

'So Friedrich didn't think I was gay, but you said 'I hope so', yes?'

'Yes. I hoped you were.'

'Why?'

'Because I am. And if you are then I would be very happy.'

'I see.'

'I hope that I haven't offended you.'

'No, not at all.'

'Well then?'

'Well what?'

'You haven't answered my question.'

'You haven't asked me a question.'

He smiled. 'OK then...Chris, are you gay?'

It was one of those moments. You are on the diving board. Do you go or do you stay?

I went.

'Yes, Max. I'm gay.'

His face cracked in the biggest smile ever and then he flung his arms around me and hugged me. I hugged him back and then we were kissing. I felt his lips on mine and then his tongue. Without thinking, I opened my mouth and let him inside. Our tongues twisted and curled around each other. I felt one hand in my hair. He pushed me back against the locker and pressed his body into mine. I could feel his hardness - and I'm sure he could feel mine, pressing against him. His hand went into the top of my tracksuit bottoms. I suddenly realised what I was doing. I caught his hand and held it before he could go any further.

'Max...I like you...I REALLY like you, but...I have a boyfriend.'

'Chris. We both want each other. I can feel it. You know it.'

'Yes, Max. I do want you. But I can't. I have a boyfriend.'

He stepped back and held me by the shoulders. 'And is he here? Will he know?'

'Yes, he's here. And yes he'll know because I will tell him. And even if he wasn't, that wouldn't change anything.'

Max looked me in the eyes for a long time. He sighed.

'He's a very lucky boy to have you. Whoever he is.'

'Hey...a hug is OK though.'

We held each other close. Max put his face against mine.

'And who is this lucky, lucky boy who has you?'

'Mark.'

'Mark. Ah, OK. Yes. I should have seen it. You share a room with him.'

'Yes. And Max...I need you to know that I have only just admitted that I am gay. Nobody else on the team knows. Please keep my secret?'

'Of course, Chris. I would do nothing to hurt you. And Mark, do people know he is gay?'

'No. Our parents know and approve. My best friend knows about me. But no-one else. Except you now. Mark has known he was gay for a long time and his friends know, but no-one at school.'

'I am disappointed for me, but I am happy for him that you are strong not to sleep with anyone else. For me sex is something to enjoy with some good friends and especially someone as sexy as you. I have no-one special. Perhaps when I do I will be like you. I hope so. But I don't know.'

He smiled at me, then cocked his head to one side. A smile flickered over his lips.

'Maybe you and Mark and I could be a three?'

I smiled back. 'Maybe. I'll ask him.'

Max's eyebrows shot up. 'Really?'

'Really. Mark is...amazing. He doesn't mind sharing me with others provided he knows or is involved. Not with just anybody, mind, but with special people. I think maybe he will think you are special.'

'Wow. That is some boy.'

'May I ask you if you have had sex with many boys?'

'Just two - for proper sex. And one of those was a bad mistake. I have...played...with others.' He smiled. 'And you?'

'Just Mark. Although I have played with one or two boys as well.' I smiled.

'Ah yes, of course, you only just knew you were gay. May I ask you a personal question?'

'Ask'

'Do you fuck each other or is one of you giver and one of you taker?'

'We fuck each other...but I give more than take. What about you?

'I am taker. I like to be fucked. I would love you to fuck me.' He held up his palms. 'It's OK...I know. But I have to tell you that is how I feel.'

'We better get back to the minibuses - they'll be sending out a search party soon.'

'May I kiss you before we go?'

'I'd like that.'

We kissed - much more deeply and for much longer than I had intended. I needed to talk to Mark.

'Hey, there you are,' said Mark as I reached the minibus. 'Good chat? Did he explain what the words meant?'

'Yeah...yeah he did. I'll tell you when we're back at the hotel.'

'I'm intrigued.'