IYLS: CH08: A LITTLE MORE LILLEGARD

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Hi All,

I’m back after a couple of week’s absence and flashing again with the Free Fiction Friday Group!

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IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING

( IYLS )

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SUMMARY

David and Jesse are childhood friends who get separated in their teens but meet up again at university in Newcastle, Australia.

They soon find out that though some things remain the same, other change… oh boy, do they change.

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Previously

We both glanced at our watches at the same time and without either of us saying a word we rose and left the Student Union building together.  I walked with him to the hall where his next class would be held, our conversation turning serious. How we went from debating the merits of various English Premier League soccer teams to what our goals were post university kind of escaped me. Regardless, I couldn’t hide my passion for flying as I spoke of my dreams of being pilot.

We reached the entry to the lecture hall and suddenly I felt awkward and self-conscious. Perhaps my enthusiasm sounded stupid. My voice trailed off as I looked at Erik who had his head tilted to the side while he listened to me. He ran his gaze up and down my body making me hyper aware of my baggy jeans and grungy T-shirt.

“Do not be ashamed, David. Passion is good. Dreams are good. When I see something I want, I, too, go for it.” The formality of his language, which spoke of English not being his first language, charmed me.

We said our goodbyes, confirming the time and place to meet up between classes the next day, and as I walked away, I couldn’t help hoping I was something he wanted.

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CHAPTER 08: A LITTLE MORE LILLEGARD

Past (David, first year of university)

“Are you a virgin, David?” Erik asked in between hungry kisses, his tongue tangling greedily with mine. We were on my bed with Erik on top of me, both of us grinding our groins against each other, seeking friction.

“Yes and no,” I panted, sucking his tongue back into my mouth. He tasted of mint and coca cola. Fucking delicious.

“How can there be a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’ answer to that question?” he demanded, pulling away to look into my eyes.

“Well, um… My arse cherry is intact. I’ve had sex, but it was only the one night and it was with a girl…”

My thoughts immediately flew to Bobbi, and the morning after our one and only time together. I could still see her face as she told me about the older guy she’d had a secret affair with for six months. A guy who’d introduced her to different things: things she liked, things she’d guessed I would like, things she thought we could help each other out with. A win-win situation, she’d said. I’d quickly set her straight on that score. For a smart girl she certainly had some harebrained ideas. Our friendship had survived the incident, in fact, if anything, it had grown stronger—we now knew each other’s secrets.

Erik’s disbelieving, “A girl? So you’ve never fucked an arse?” brought me back to the present.

“I didn’t say that…” I whispered, not really feeling comfortable with discussing Bobbi in that context with Erik.

“Have you done anything with another man?” he asked, leaning down to kiss me quickly, his denim-clad cock continuing to grind into my thigh.

“Um, no,” I muttered, closing my eyes and turning my face to the side in embarrassment, my cheeks hot.

“Don’t be ashamed, David. We all start out as virgins. It will be fun, I think, to teach you.”

With those words he pulled the hem of my T-shirt up to reveal my nipples, latching his lips on to one as his fingers tweaked and twisted the other. Twin jolts of pleasure went straight from my hardened nubs to my straining cock and I arched my back off the bed, seeking more, a throaty moan escaping my lips.

“Mmm,” Erik chuckled against my skin. “I think you will be an apt student.”

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Jesus Christ, tonight had better be the bloody night. If I have to wear a fucking anal plug one more day I’m going to damn well explode. I squirmed a bit on the seat of my bike as I rode home from the Uni, moaning at the way the motion made the plug press against my prostate. Note to self: anal plugs and bicycle seats do not mix! Well, maybe they do considering how I can’t stop wriggling around…

I was so turned on—Erik had been teasing me for days with plugs of an ever increasing girth, assuring me it would make my first time practically pain free. ‘Training my arse’ is what he’d called it. Training! Bullshit! More like teasing or torturing. I was certain the guy had a cruel streak—I’d just about begged him to take me the previous night.

I couldn’t believe I’d let him talk me into using them. If not for the fact he’d taught me so much over the four months since we’d met, I’d never have agreed to it. He was only eighteen months older than me, but he blew me away just about on a daily basis with how sexually experienced he was. What he could do with that damned mouth of his. What he’d taught me to do with mine…

I was so fucking excited. Tonight, at least I hoped it would be tonight, he’d finally claim my arse. I’d made love to him many times, with him guiding me as to how to prepare him for my cock. Just seeing how he rocked against me, like he was trying to get even more of my dick inside him, and watching him bite his lip in an effort to suppress his moans, made me ache to be on the receiving end. I loved fucking him. God, how I loved topping him, but I wanted to know what it felt like to be fucked too. I wanted to bottom. I groaned as I turned into my street; the combination of the massaging of my sweet spot and my thoughts were making me nearly come in my jeans. Turning into my driveway, I glided to halt and dismounted feeling half relieved and half disappointed to have the pressure on my gland ease.

Mrs. Gilmore was sitting on her veranda in her favorite rattan chair, a covered tray on the table beside her. One look at her and I knew she wanted to talk, as she often did when I got home from my classes. She really was a bit of a have-a-chat, but she was so damned funny and irreverent that I didn’t usually mind. Then again, I didn’t usually have my arse stuffed full with an anal plug either.

“Hello, David, dear,” she chirped. “How was Uni?”

“Good thanks, Mrs. Gilmore. How was your day?” I pursed my lips as the motion of leaning my bike against the side of the house made the toy rub against my prostate. I suddenly felt very grateful for the oversized hoodie that was hiding my semi. At least, I hoped it was hiding it.

“Are you okay, dear? You seem a little stiff. Have you pulled a groin muscle or is it just that old seat on your bike?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Fuck, she knows!

“No. No. I’m fine, Mrs. Gilmore. Just a bit tired.”

“Are you sure, David? Come to think of it, you look a little flushed. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something? I have some Advil if you’re feeling a bit feverish.”

Does hot-for-dick constitute as a fever? Would Advil cure my hard-on? went my borderline hysterical thoughts. To say it felt surreal to be standing in the driveway, having a chat with my elderly landlady, whilst having my butt filled by a sex toy and a semi pressing against the zipper of my jeans, was an understatement.

“Truly, I’m fine, Mrs. G.… Nothing wrong here. Fit as a fiddle…” I stammered, giving her a bit of a Fred Astaire dance move. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded unnaturally high.

Fuck, bad idea! I coughed to cover my small moan as the plug moved over my gland.

She gave me an odd look and I found myself blushing furiously.

Cool it, Sadler. If she doesn’t know now, your stupid antics will soon tell her!

“Okay, dear, if you say so, though you really are quite flushed. Perhaps you should go lie down. Oh, by the way. Let me know if you see the laundry plug lying around somewhere, please. I couldn’t find it anywhere today. Had to make a special trip to the supermarket to buy a new one. That’s old age for you. You end up misplacing plugs and whatnot all the time. Only the other day I found my knitting needles in the bathroom cabinet. I’ll probably find the laundry plug in the freezer or somewhere equally silly.” She chortled happily, shaking her head.

She knows! She has to know! Fuck! Why else would she bring up plugs? How does she know? How can she tell? Do I have a fucking neon sign on my forehead? Maybe a sticker on my chest?

I couldn’t resist looking down at the front of my hoodie, just to make sure.

“Well, I’d best let you be off, then.”

Gratefully, I turned to walk down the side of the house to my flat when she gave a laugh, “Oh dear, there I go again, I nearly forgot to give you your scones. I know you’re rather partial to them.” Leaning over the veranda railing she passed me the covered tray, whispering conspiratorially, “They’re date scones, love. They’ll help keep you regular.”

I choked, breaking out in a fit of nervous giggles. Fuck, now I’m giggling like a chick!

“You may laugh now, David, but trust an old lady. It always pays to look after the internal plumbing! Always make sure you eat plenty of roughage. Being plugged up can make one so grumpy. Just ask our cranky neighbor, Mr. Klein. I’m convinced that’s why he’s always in such a foul mood. That man walks around like he has a rod up his skinny backside. Now, if only it’d help move things along for him. He probably hasn’t had a bowel movement in ten years.” I stared at her in shock as she laughed heartily. What is it about old people and their need to talk about their bodily functions?

“Ooh, I’m in top form today, aren’t I, dearie? Plugs and plumbing.” Giving my head a final pat, she turned, chuckling to herself and walked to her front door. “Go enjoy your date scones, dear!”

I almost ran down the path to my front door, unheeding of the exquisite torture of the plug moving over my prostate, just in case she thought of something else to say to me. Breathing heavily, I balanced the scone-laden tray on the corner of the huge decorative pot plant that had its home by my front door. As I scrounged around in my jean pocket for my keys I looked down, my jaw dropping open. There, in the planter, half hidden by the tray, sat the laundry plug.

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“I’m… aagh… telling you… oh, God… she knows,” I panted as I lay on my back on the bed with my knees drawn up and out. Erik’s mouth was hot and wet on my cock as he worked more and more of my dick down his throat. He had one hand grasping the base of my shaft whilst the other slowly fucked me with the anal plug, tapping it lightly against my prostate. “She… sweet Jesus… She went on… aagh… and on… oh, God. God that feels so good.” I moaned, losing my train of thought for a moment. Fuck, where was I? Oh yeah. “Everything she said… oh, fuck… everything was about plugs…” My back arched from the bed involuntarily as Erik finally swallowed the last of my length, humming around my shaft in satisfaction. “Fuck! Erik! So good… Jesus… She raved on and on about rods up arses… Holy fucking hell!” I yelped as he worked the plug more forcefully in and out of my hole.

Removing his mouth from my throbbing cock, he quirked an eyebrow at me as he continued to move the toy in and out of me. “David, if you can still carry on a conversation about your landlady while I am sucking your dick and playing with your arse, then I am doing something wrong. Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Please don’t stop…” I whimpered, rocking my ass against the questing plug.

“Let it go, baby. I need you to relax.”

“Relax. Gotcha… Oh, fuck!” His hot, talented mouth was on me again, sucking my dick so hard I was amazed he didn’t pull it out by the roots. Gonna call him Dyson from now on…

All coherent thought ceased, as I gave in to the sensations radiating out from my groin and butt. Excitement coiled in my belling, tightening my balls.

“Gonna come!” I croaked, thrusting my cock deep into his mouth, and as my dick exploded in joy, I thanked the Virgin Mary and all the saints that Erik had next to no gag reflex.

“Oh, God!” I panted as he continued to milk me of every last drop of my cream, while slowly removing the plug from my arse at the same time. I was surprised to feel a sense of loss at its absence. My body felt like it was totally boneless—had I been standing, I’d have gone down like a sack of potatoes. Okay, relaxed. Mission accomplished: I’m relaxed.

With a final lick of my slit, Erik released me, his hand going to the condom packet resting beside him on my bed. He tore it open, carelessly discarding the wrapper before rolling the latex down his cock. With a smile at me, he clambered over my thigh to position himself between my very relaxed splayed limbs. Mesmerized, I watched as he poured lube along the length of his shaft, stroking himself, his hungry gaze on my loosened hole. Shuffling forward a little, he pressed the tip of his engorged dick lightly against my entrance.

“Ready?” he asked. His voice was thick and tight; his gaze leaving the only place our bodies were touching to look into my eyes. My desire was mirrored in his and my breath caught. It was going to happen. It was really going to happen.

“Yes,” I whispered, nodding eagerly.

He pressed into me slowly, only needing to apply a little pressure to breach my outer muscle. Once it succumbed, he slid the rest of the way in and I was amazed to find he’d been right. I felt next to no discomfort, just the slightest of burns and a wonderful sense of fullness. I hoped that didn’t mean I didn’t feel hot and tight for him, the way he felt to me when I made love to him.

“Jesus, David! So good, baby. You feel so good wrapped around my dick,” he moaned.

He slowly withdrew, pausing with only the head of his cock inside me, his gaze on mine as he thrust back in. He continued his torturously slow pace until I was squirming and desperate beneath him. My cock filled and lengthened as the head of his dick brushed over my sweet spot, massaging it again and again.

“God, Erik. Please. Harder. I need you to fuck me harder!” I gasped trying to push my ass onto his dick.

“Thank God! I thought you’d never ask.” He groaned loudly, beginning to thrust into me in earnest.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I heard myself cry out as he pounded my prostate. I reached for my dick, tugging at it frantically as his hips barreled into my buttocks.

He came with a roar, his cock swelling and pulsing inside me and I followed moments later, painting my abdomen in my hot come. Collapsing on me, smearing my juice over his own belly, he filled my mouth with his warm panting breaths, my flavor still clinging to his tongue as he tangled it with mine.

He chuckled when we came up for air. “Happy Birthday, David!”

“I thought the birthday boy was meant to blow out the candles?” I joked, pulling him back down to kiss him once more.

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Author’s Note

Yep I’m liking Erik even more!!!!

Hope you do too!

I’d loved to hear your thoughts!

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