Hi All,

Two weeks in a row flashing with with the Free Fiction Friday Group!

I’m on a roll!



( IYLS )



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.




“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.



Past (David, first year of university)

“Ugh, I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go.”

I groaned, rolling beneath the blankets to face Erik, pressing my face to his naked chest and snuggling into him. I sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the mix of our individual scents and sex that clung to his skin. Wriggling to make myself more comfortable, I gave a small moan. I felt a little sore—a delicious reminder of the previous night’s rather energetic activities. A reminder I wanted to take with me on my much dreaded visit with my father. If I wasn’t going to be able to fuck Erik for a couple of days then I wanted to take a little bit of him with me.

“Why do you keep going then?” he asked, his voice drowsy, his lips on my hair. “You’re over nineteen. You don’t have to anymore.”

“I know,” I replied, my voice muffled by the toasty warm expanse of his chest. “I’ve been asking myself that same question for the past year.”

Sighing deeply, I rolled onto my back, throwing my arm over my face as I contemplated how to explain to Erik the convoluted workings of my heart. A small smile touched my lips to feel him scoot closer. He threw one of his legs over mine as he shifted his head, bringing it to rest on my shoulder, and began drawing lazy circles on my chest. My free arm immediately clasped him, drawing him even closer to me. He knew a few details of my relationship with my father, but I had difficulty articulating my feelings to myself, let alone explaining them to someone else. Memory after awkward, hurtful memory of visits made to him since he’d left Mum played like a bad B grade movie in my mind and suddenly the words were spilling from me.

“Since he left us, I only ever see him four times a year—at the end of Term 1, around my birthday, but never on the day and the same for Christmas, and at the end of Term 3. The last time I actually saw him on the actual day of my birthday was when I turned fourteen. I don’t spend Christmas day with him either. I figure Mum deserves those times.” A snort escaped me. “Not that I think he cares that I’m not there to share those days with him. I only ever stay one or two nights, and I have to call him a week or so earlier so he can tell me what flight and train times he’s organized, because he can’t even collect me from the airport. Heaven forbid my arrival time clash with some activity her kids have on.”

Erik placed a soft kiss to my collarbone, his hand continuing to caress my chest and abdomen soothingly.

“God, Erik, I always feel so unwelcome. I’ve never even slept in a bed while I’m at his house. I have to sleep on their couch. She has a huge ‘sewing room’ and the kids have this mammoth rumpus room. I mean it’s bigger than this frigging flat, but do you think they’d put a sofa bed or something in there for me? No. No way. So I sleep on this little two-seater couch that isn’t even long enough so that I can stretch out. He makes no effort to spend any time alone with me, and the whole time I’m there, her son, Sean’s his name, is trailing around after me asking me to play with him. He’s like my shadow. He’s always begging me to come watch him play soccer…” I trailed off, trying to calm my voice, which had risen an octave or two.

“Do you? Play with him and watch him at his soccer?” Erik asked quietly and I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling deeply in an effort to get my emotions under control.

“Yeah, mostly. He’s not that bad really for a thirteen year old, and it’s not his fault my dad loves him more than he ever did me. Do you know, I can’t remember one single swim meet, athletics carnival, or even school event that my father came to. Not one.” My voice sounded croaky to my own ears and though I hated that I was getting myself upset, I wasn’t afraid of being judged by Erik. He was the least judgmental person I’d ever met. “Do you think it’s because I look like Mum? Do you think that’s why he doesn’t love me?”

“I don’t know, David. All I know is, that it really is his loss,” he replied softly, raising his head to place a kiss to my throat.

“You know, mostly I don’t care that he doesn’t love me, but there’s this small part of me that does care. That does want him to be a proper father to me. And it’s that fucking small part of me that keeps me going back. I must be insane. Isn’t there some saying about how if you keep repeating the same actions and somehow expect some miraculously different result that you’re insane? So that’s it. I keep going because I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy, babe. You’re a son who wants what every son wants: his father’s love and approval. I can tell you one thing though, David. I’ve never met your father, but already I know: you are a better man than him.”

In an effort to lighten the sad mood I’d created, I tried to crack a joke. “That’s not the worst of it though. Her daughter, Talia, who’s about fifteen, I think, has been walking around making goo-goo eyes at me for the last two years. Talk about awkward. And she’s so forward—always trying to walk in on me in the shower or getting changed, and she wears the tiniest tops and shortest skirts. I mean, I know it’s all those teenage hormones, but honestly, I get embarrassed for her. She’s like a bitch in heat!” Finally, a genuine laugh escaped me as a picture of her bending over in front of me, giving me an eyeful of her tits, filled my mind. I described it all to Erik, which made him laugh too. “Maybe I should tell her she needs to grow a big beautiful cock like yours,” I breathed against his ear, reaching down to stroke his length. Turning my body, I shuffled down the bed, placing moist kisses as I went until I reached the aforementioned big beautiful cock.

“You’ll be late…” he whispered huskily, his fingers already in my hair, tugging gently.

“I don’t care,” I told him before running my tongue from his balls up to his tip, circling the head. “Besides, I need to practice my oral skills… I think I have an exam coming up soon.”


Putting the textbook down, I ran a hand through my hair, and turned in my seat to watch Erik as he focused on his revision notes, a small V between his brows indicating his concentration. It was exam time and we’d both been putting in a lot of study.

I never grew weary of looking at his handsome face, knowing what a beautiful mind lay behind it. Had he been just a pretty face, I’d have long since grown bored with it. No, ‘pretty’ had never done it for me. Sure it was great to look at, but I needed personality. I needed conversation. I needed someone who challenged me, made me laugh. Someone who stimulated my mind.  It was Erik’s intelligence, wit, and humor, not to mention his kindness and wisdom, which kept me fascinated.

I remembered our first meeting and all the months since. What a year it had been.

I’d introduced him to Bobbi, and as I sat admiring him, their opening lines to each other echoed in my head, bringing a smile to my lips.

“So you’re the girl who stole his cherry!” he’d said.

“Why, yes I am, but I do believe we might share that honor.” Bobbi’s grin and arched eyebrow had made us all laugh.

And then, of course, there was Sam, who was doing the same degree as me and had just attached himself to us. He was as big as Bobbi was small and they tormented each other mercilessly.

I’d taken Erik flying a few times and he loved it. Still it came at a price. The supply of ‘cockpit’ and ‘joystick’ jokes seemed never-ending. The only thing that had amused him more was when he’d just about wet himself laughing at the sight of Sam squeezing into a small two-seater Cessna. Come to think of it I’d laughed pretty hard, too.

I’d even introduced him to Mum as my boyfriend on my nineteenth birthday. She’d adored him immediately and had been really cool about it all, which made me feel really proud of her. I mean, it was one thing to accept your son was gay, and quite another to be faced with his boyfriend for the first time. She’d even smiled happily when I’d kissed him. The only bad thing from that weekend was she’d given him even more ammunition in his relentless teasing. I could scarcely believe it when she presented me with a box of one hundred condoms in all sorts of colors and flavors.

There are just some things a mother shouldn’t do, and buying condoms for their son is one of them. How the hell had she decided on the size?

Every single time we’d had sex until they’d run out, Erik would scrounge through the box debating on whether to go with a strawberry or chocolate flavored condom, or some weird and wonderful colored one. The funniest had probably been the glow-in-the-dark lime green ones. He’d almost had me convinced he didn’t want to bury his cock in my dark hole with the way he’d waved around his glow-in-the-dark cock like he was Luke Skywalker armed with his light saber.

Never had my life been so full. I’d studied, worked, built up my flight hours, visited my mom weekly, and hung out with my friends.

And I’d been with Erik. Most of all, I’d been with Erik.

We spent every spare moment together. He’d practically moved into my little flat. Thankfully, Mrs. Gilmore didn’t mind.

My mind drifted, as it so often did, to Jeremy. I wondered what he was doing and what he’d think of my friends. I wondered what he’d think of Erik. Really, I wondered what he’d think of me. Would he care that I was gay? Even after all the time that had passed since I’d last seen him, his opinion still mattered to me. Sighing, I refocused on Erik, a smile tugging at my lips to see his look of concentration.

I glanced at my watch. It told me we’d been studying for a good three hours. I decided we’d earned a break. Putting my book down quietly on the table, I rose and walked behind him, slipping my hands down the front of his loose-buttoned shirt. I brushed the pads of my thumbs over his sensitive nipples. A small sighing moan left his softly parted lips. Leaning back, he rested his head against my belly briefly before turning his face to the side and nuzzling in to me.

“How about a bit of exercise to get the blood flowing again?” I suggested with a grin. “We’ve been sitting on our arses for a few hours.”

“Mmm, yes, exercise is always good,” he replied huskily, standing and allowing me to lead him to our bed.


Fuck, where had the year gone? It seemed like it had been only a matter of days ago that I’d met Erik for the first time in the lecture hall during our first week of uni. Now it was almost Christmas and I was standing in the baggage check-in queue with him at the International Terminal at Sydney Airport.

He was leaving.

He was going home.

I was oblivious to my surroundings and the other people milling about us as we slowly shuffled forward. All I could do was stare at him, my stomach a tight knot, trying to memorize every freckle and nuance of his face. If he were to ask me a question, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to reply, for the lump lodged in my throat.

Maybe it was just as well I couldn’t speak. I think I might have begged him to stay had I been able to make my vocal chords work around the intrusion that seemed to have taken up residence along the entire length of my neck. I swallowed painfully, pressing my lips together as I felt the tight heat hit my cheeks and behind my eyes signaling the advent of tears if I didn’t nip them in the bud then and there. Blinking rapidly to dispel them, I noticed Erik doing the same, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Heedless of the odd stare or two directed at us, I clutched his hand, needing to have his skin in contact with mine for as long as possible. Soon enough he’d be on the other side of the world and out of my reach.

Every inch we moved forward was taking him closer to leaving me and I fought the panic rising in my gut. More than anything, I wanted to pick him up and throw him over my shoulder and just run. Run to where the world couldn’t touch us and he could stay with me.

“Shh,” he soothed, quietly rubbing small circles onto the back of my hand with his thumb. I looked down, noticing I was clutching his hand so tightly it was white. With a conscious effort, I loosened my grip, trying to smile at him in apology, but my mouth wouldn’t obey my command and pull up at the corners. Letting go of his suitcase handle, he brushed a lock of my hair from my forehead and smiled weakly, his cheeks flushed, a glassy film clouding his eyes.

I knew I wasn’t making things any easier for him but I couldn’t control my reactions.

Christ, he was leaving. He was really leaving.

One minute we had all the time in the world and the next he was leaving.

And then we were at the counter and he was handing over his passport and boarding pass, and lifting his suitcase onto the scales with minimal effort. After such a long wait in the queue, the check-in process seemed to be over in a flash. Still grasping my hand in his, he led me away and I followed like a docile lamb, trying desperately to keep my breaths deep and long as another wave of panic threatened to overwhelm me.

Time was running out.

He found us a café of sorts near his departure gate, and sensing me still incapable of speech he bought us both a coke. We sat at a table in the farthest corner. I dragged my chair around to sit beside him and pressed my thigh against his, wrapping our ankles around each other. Needing the contact, I reached across my body, and gripped his hand tightly. My free hand, the one closest to him, rested on the back of his shoulder, my fingers and thumb caressing his neck and hair. His free hand was on my thigh, rubbing anxious circles upon it. I couldn’t get close enough. Leaning in, pressing my head to his, I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to stem the tears that once again threatened to fall.

We sat in silence, neither of us speaking. At least, not in words. Our bodies spoke for us.

Too soon. Way too soon they were calling his flight.

Turning, he brushed the lightest of kisses against my temple, before pushing his chair back and rising. I stood too, our hands reconnecting in a tight grip. I glanced down at the table, our sodas were untouched. Meekly, I walked the short distance with him to the departure area, all my instincts screamed at me to not let him go. He stopped near the point of no return and turned to face me.

A single tear escaped my vigilance and Erik collected it on his thumb before placing it in his mouth and sucking it clean.

“Erik, I lo−” His fingers gently covered my mouth before I could finish my sentence.

“Shh, baby, we can’t say those words. It will only make it harder.” His voice was a husky croak, his eyes gentle and soft, and whether he said the words or not, I knew he loved me.

Just as I did him.

He was my first love.

My first love, who, I would shortly lose.

God, why did it seem like I was always losing or leaving those that I loved? First my father, then Jeremy, and now Erik.

Cupping his face in my hands, totally uncaring of the people around us, I pressed my lips to his, my tongue seeking entry. A soft whimper fell from me as his unique taste burst inside my mouth one last time. More tears escaped as I felt his hands in my hair and on the small of my back as he pressed himself to me.

And then he was gone, his final words echoing in my head.

Such ordinary words.

“I will call.”


Author’s Note

Damn this part always makes me cry.

I’d loved to hear your thoughts!


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