Heavenly Prize

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Chapter 3

III

“Peter I also want shower. Can I just get in?” I undid my cloths at that. Suddenly, I felt the sense of being naked in company.

“Yeah, let me just finish my piss.” He spread a fiver against the wall.

“What? Della says you are not allowed to do it in the shower.” He brushes his teeth in the shower which is generally forbidden in Della’s presence. I watched him aiming at the drain.

“Well, Della isn’t here to watch over. It’s the champagne. Just don’t mention it to her.”

Let it be our secret I wished him say! To which I could also make a secret pact between us, given half a chance right now. I entered the shower by which time he was just letting the last few drops out by shaking it in his fingers and shuddering his butt. Does he enjoy touching himself? It’s soft right now of much darker colour than the rest of his body, and strikingly appealing. I scratched at my leg to look at it closely. Wrapped in the pulpy thickness of a peach flesh skin makes it look nearly edible. It might get bigger and harder like mine if I encouraged him. It ought to be different in size and texture, and quite possibly reactive to a different control technique. I wanted to shake it for him or best work on it now. Instead, I just hugged him tight again. That’s all I could do in my present capacity.

“Peter, you are the best guardian in the world. One day I will be as big and strong as you.”

“You will be. You just need to learn to love a little more.” He grinned broad looking more attractive with wet hair and water in his eyes. He let go of his cock and put the same fist under my chin to level my face up. Knowing what had been held in that hand, the scented air from his fingers rose up. My head spun for a second. The running water hadn’t touched below his belly yet.

“Love like this?” I gathered all the courage, bent down, put his cock in the mouth and gave it a quick suck. There was sudden and perceptible expansion in his ribs. I tasted off the tip a little drop of thick liquid that was creamy in texture, a pungent tang of such crude taste that I controlled myself from spitting in order to reserve any negative emotions between us. I swallowed my spit with a lingering aftertaste. My heart raced at such speed that I thought I was going to pass out. A pubic thread came to the tip of my tongue. Apart from the residue liquid of the tip, the rest of beefy flesh tasted of sweaty salt, of somewhat harder and abrasive skin surface which puzzled me a great deal. I admitted to myself of making a foolish mistake. Could I possibly repeat it?

“You silly little boy!” He let out a loud laugh. I began to feel slightly unsure about my encouragement technique. I was preparing myself to receive at least some shocking exclaim. Perhaps he is also withholding any negative feelings. So where do I stand now. At this moment I thoroughly wished to be back at the less daunting planning board. I wished to have spent a little more time at that blank draft board. Why I don’t find the courage to freely express my feelings? Courage has to be acquired, maintained and perhaps distributed, if I must. However, I was perplexed to my heart taking a different beat to which I had a momentary loss of all my planning.

“Let me shampoo your head. Then you can rub soap on my back.” He poured some shampoo on my dry hair. May be I still have the chance.

“Peter you forgot you need to put some water on my hair first.” I was standing so close that the mushroom head of his penis was straight pointing at my belly button. A little closer. I poured some shower gel on my palm with a shaking hand. I should have gone behind him to soap his back but instead I started doing it whilst in front of him. I held the sides of his stomach for a short moment pretending to prevent us from slipping. I felt the head of his cock poke into my belly. Peter almost fell back and balanced himself by putting his forearm on the back wall.

“Peter I really liked that. Can I do it again.” I spoke into his chest. I bent down once again and tasted his cock. This time it felt tasteless, cold, and lifeless. I felt him jerking backwards at a speed. I looked up. He looked shocked.

“What the fuck? What do you think you are doing? What..? what? fucking nut.” He was lost for words for a short while. His eyes narrowed and the forehead contracted to display an agonising deliberation on some convulsive theme. I suddenly felt sorry for creating such a scene and awkward at the fretful look, which I saw vanishing equally fast in a blink like it never had happened.

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to shout at you like this. You are a son to me and a best one at that, and I am very proud to hold your guardianship. What got into your head all of a sudden?” He held my ears with both hands, levelled his face with mine and looked directly into my eyes. There was no anger. I saw in his eyes wherein lingered a deeply strong searching look, and the tone so benevolent to reach your heart and touch your soul. Somehow I felt like entering into those eyes to reveal all that I had been afraid of telling. But, this was a moment when Peter’s predictable response will outstrip any of my rational arguments such as the meaning of relationship, and the invisible boundaries of mutual respect. Here was one person with whom I wanted to experience every possible rapport setting aside all family and social constraints. I wanted to create a bond of emotional pleasure between us where the meaning of understanding other humans is less important than the significance of short lived life. Given the opportunity, I would hold his hand to take an oath of allegiance. The pressing time was moving ahead at a considerable speed, and I wasn’t ready to lose any further ticks in arguing about the suitability of both our positions which might just result in only a long unproductive conversation.

“Peter, don’t be cross, I look upon you like a superior friend and my guide. I just want to prove it you. I want you to know it. I really really do. I have an experiment in mind to which you are the sole participant. I want to begin it now,” all I could say. “Will you please allow me? I want to experience the intimacy of a grown up person.” My voice came out like sobs and I hugged him tightening my arms around his waist. Actually my own reaction surprised me as I wasn’t sure if I was really sobbing. I rubbed my face in his chest and closed my hands behind his waist. He put his arms around my head. His thighs slightly tightened around below my waist. Chilled water ran above us. I felt his cock poking once again in my belly. I let it stay there until it got harder. Peter just kept running his both hands behind my head, quite possibly oblivious to his own physical reaction. I rubbed my hands slightly over his back and separated my body from his. In front of me is an erect penis of a well-rounded crimson forehead followed by a thickly skinned shaft reaching back to a fleshy base layered with curly fur. I looked up to see him staring out of the shower.

“Peter I just want to do this. You can decide upon its merits once it is over. Please let me do it.” I followed the photographic instructions in magazine and bent over and started sucking on the plum head of his cock just like the models did. I wasn’t entirely sure if it gave either of us any pleasure but I continued anyway hoping that it will soon be so. Why else would someone print an instruction manual of the sort for people to view it in complete secrecy? I put more of it in my mouth and began sucking harder. I couldn’t think of doing anything else right now although I had seen more of the magazine than I could quite remember. I can only attribute my light amnesia to the presently fantastic feeling, and not ignoring the overly sensitive iffy participant. A true relationship begins with a good friend protected with a circle of cryptic secrecy of bonding. I found it hard to tell him not to be shocked even though I had planned it as a surprise opening of our mature relationship. Also, maintaining a silence wouldn’t give him a chance to come up with some counter argument.

“Oh balls, what is going on? I must be bloody dreaming, oh fuck, it’s crazy, I must be mad, I am going mad. That bloody woman. It’s just her bloody fault.” Peter covered his eyes with his arm and stood there speaking to himself for a while and once banging his fist hard on the wall. Then he put his elbow on the wall banging his forehead with the same fist. The magazine didn’t mention any of this. So I didn’t bother to perform any similarly useless action either. What puzzles him is quite a peculiar emotional obstacle experienced by myself no sooner the conception of this very plan formed in my head. A strong illogic mutilating craving of performing an un-consented act with impunity towed to a clear conviction of it being an unwelcome gesture, wrong, or unwise at the least. Peter is quite mature in that regard and sooner will appreciate my initiation endeavour when he understands my point of view. That’s the plan anyway, which I had meant to execute with more ease. Then he relaxed one leg a little and put his both hands behind my head pressing it into him. Few times he released such long sighs that sounded painful. I might learn to be a little gentler.

This was the best of my imagination. My plan worked. I spread my knees on the floor around his feet, digging my chest into his knees, holding on to his hips, tilted my head upwards and let the shaft press further into my throat to the point of gagging. My lips didn’t reach his pubes against my intention. Peter crossed his hands above his nose and rubbed his eyebrows to resolve the cryptic puzzle at the ceiling. A quick while later, he bent down a little and rubbed my shoulders and back after which he straightened himself up. He had already stopped speaking. Neither of us exchanged words. I had built up my imagination over this month, and now I just couldn’t get enough of the action. His skin on the shaft became thinner and stiffly attached to it. Peter didn’t express any alarm at this. It must be all right. It smelt very good and tasted sweet, and looked just like the one I had picked in the magazine. More to the point, I fully trusted that it wasn’t going to become a classroom joke. A bad joke marching its way to the playing fields. Just think of the fight in the playground with the older boys. The things they will say about my background, and the reprisals I will suffer for asking them to shut up. My brain couldn’t think any further as I had just achieved something that I secretly yearned for. I needed to yell of joy, and go somersaulting; whilst the complexity of the situation required my serious attention. Peter didn’t seem to be in the mood for any more surprises. Any wrong move or word would disintegrate the reality.

I felt serious about it. My dream became a reality and I wasn’t going to waste time. I thought how lucky I was to be doing this. Many of my friends couldn’t even imagine touching their tutors although sparing them no jokes on their bulky parts, and here I was having it just the way I had been thinking of. Brilliant. Just so. I loved my Peter even more. I knew he would have to enjoy it otherwise it wouldn’t stay as hard. I knew that an orgasmic satisfaction of few parts of human body is the way to touch a soul, enter into it, after which it is possible to remain intimate with it. For a moment I forgot all hesitation and fear and the discretion that is reserved for people higher in status. I also wanted him to enjoy it as much as I was. A lot more. In our minds we exchanged words, surprisingly nice.

Oh jack, stop it, there, there. I am about to finish off. His bum tightened, so fast that it slipped out of my hand, and he held on to my head, thrusting it into him.

Ok there now, Peter whispered to the ceiling, that’s ... it, and a splash came in my mouth, not of great quantity but of warmish thickly texture, tasting salty.

He put his thumbs around my forehead and pulled himself out of my mouth. Held it in his hand and gave it one more squeeze. I was still on my knees. Now I remember, there are other parts too. I put my face under his balls.

That is just enough for now. You have had your way. He pulled me up and began surveying my face, which lasted a couple of blinks, ending with such a sigh as if to overcome the loss of virginity to a tramp. The idea of a freshly procured secret companion is still to be dawned on him. His eye brows squeezed and lips opened in a round shape as if to swallow a spoon of medication.

What kind of idea is this?

I have had this unusual longing for a while. You are the best person ever, and now my soul mate. I hugged him again. He pulled my face back by holding my hair and kissed my forehead. He looked serious which was strange because I was waiting for him to smile and say that he is happy to be so, or he enjoyed it so as to do it again later, or at least hug me back none of which I foresaw forthcoming. Give him a break.

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