David the Graduate Student Ch. 02

We left the hall, and David said, "I need a walk." It was easy to get out of the small town, and we found a footpath leading through fields into some woods. As we walked, David said that needed a little beer, a quick shag and an early night's sleep.

"What about eating?" I asked.

"Yes, a light meal. Maybe some fish or something from the vegetarian menu."

"Don't go vegetarian, it may give you wind. You want to be on top form tomorrow."

"Oh Jon, I don't want to let you and Marcello down. You probably know that when I sing a love song, I'm always thinking of you and singing to and for you! You are my support and my inspiration. Obviously without you here I could still sing, but it's always you behind my best singing."

We drove to Dinkerton, had one quick pint, a light dinner and retired to our room at 8-30 pm. "Jon, I want you, I want to fuck the hell out of you!" David said. He started to undress me, and his eyes were burning with lust. Each time that he removed a garment he would kiss the area underneath it, even my sweaty feet. He pushed me face down on the bed and buried his face in the small of my back and kept it there, chewing and nuzzling me and slowly moving down on to my buttocks, kissing and nuzzling all the time. He then pushed his nose and mouth into my crack, chewing and nuzzling again. He did not try to force my crack open: he was just appreciating my body with his mouth. It was a tremendous boost for my self-confidence, because although I have always been uninhibited in my praise and admiration of his beautiful body, beside which I am a skinny weakling, he is not usually outspoken in his admiration of my body, in spite of my having benefitted enormously in toughness and general fitness from my nine months as building site labourer.

Having kissed his way down my legs, he turned me over and lifted me up. "I want you to ride my dick," he said, and lay down on his back. He reached out and took a condom out of the box, extracted it from its foil wrapping and rolled it on to his rock-hard tool. He applied lube liberally to it and then asked me to squat above him while he poked first two and then three lube-coated fingers into my anus, spreading the gel and stretching my sphincter muscles. He then got me to turn round and face him as I carefully lowered myself on to his cock and began to work myself up and down on it. I gazed at his beautiful face with his dreamy smile and his still lustful eyes and my heart started to beat faster and I felt love spreading over my body as my cock bobbed up and down with every movement that I made. He began to thrust himself upward as I slid up and down his man-pole, and he began to pant as his orgasm started, and with smothered cry, he uttered my name as he shot his load into the rubber in my gut.

I slowly and gently lifted my posterior and detached it from his slowly shrinking dick and I bent forward and lay on top of him, my face buried in his neck, my stiffening prick rubbing against his hairy belly. He reached up and enwrapped me in his arms and pulled me up so that our lips met. I rubbed my prick harder and harder against him and within a half minute I came and shot my small load of fuck-juice into the narrow space between our bellies and chests. "'Dissolve us in pleasure and soft repose, dear pretty youth!'" I whispered as we cleaned ourselves up prior to sleep.

Chapter 37 David's Father

The Competition Final

There are times when I miss my eldest son enormously. We have a lot in common, and I see him so rarely. He has joined himself to a wonderful man, who can do more for him than I can, but we are alike in many ways, and I so enjoy his company that I wish that we did not live so far away from one another. When he told me about the Dunchester International Mozart Singing Competition, I was desperate to hear him sing, as only once in Camford when he took his degree had I ever heard him sing. It so happened that the same week I had to go to a meeting of local authority CEOs in London, which ended on the second day of the festival. I phoned up and managed to secure a hotel room in Dinkerton. It would have been a waste of time trying to find anywhere in Dunchester itself.

I took the train to Dinkerton and booked myself in at the hotel, where they had a leaflet with details of the competition programme. To my delight, the class finals for the men's voices were to be the following day. I arranged for a cab to take me to Dunchester the next morning. I did not know whether David had reached the finals, but what the hell, he would be there and I could see the two of them for lunch and a drink. I phoned my wife and told her what I had done, and not to expect me home till I rang her again.

The tenor class final was the first event at 9-30 am. My cab got me there just in time, and I paid my entry fee and crept into the balcony of the hall just as the event was starting. There were five tenor finalists from Europe and North America, and only two were British. They performed in alphabetical order, which meant that David was last and had to hear all his competitors from backstage, while Jon sat alone below me in the audience. I noticed several people below me who might have been agents or impresarios. The competition was severe, all the finalists sang superbly and the audience's applause was thunderous. We heard numbers from 'Don Giovanni', 'Così fan tutte', 'Die Zauberflöte' and 'Idomeneo'. David sang 'Il mio tesoro' superbly, but all the others sang well, so for a lay person, such as myself or Jon, it was impossible to make judgments. David's rendering of 'La donna è mobile' was pretty good, and although I thought it was an unsuitable choice for someone of David's temperament, the audience received it with rapturous applause.

The jury retired, and it was announced that they hoped to deliver their verdict at 1 pm. In the finals, the classes were judged separately, even though it was the same judges for each class. People wandered out into the town in search of coffee, and I hastened downstairs and caught up with Jon just as he was about to step out into the street. He looked at me in surprise as we shook hands, and a delighted smile appeared on his face. "Well David has at least two devoted fans here!" he said with a grin. We had just half an hour before we had to be back in the hall, the cafés were crowded, so we entered a pub, where we found that we could get coffee. Jon told me that David's decision to give his grandfather's legacy to his mother had been entirely his own: he had had no part in influencing him, because he was anxious never to let him get financially dependent on him, at least until or if they started an adoptive family. "I wonder why they keep the contestants shut up together until the jury have finished. Why can't they come out and sit with their nearest and dearest until the results are announced?"

"Maybe they don't want the would-be agents or impresarios to come into contact with the contestants before the result is announced," I replied.

We finished our coffee and returned to the hall, where there were sufficient empty seats for us to sit together, and the chairman of the jury came on. As usual, he announced the three prizewinners in reverse order. The third prize went to an American, the second to David and the first to an Italian. We all applauded like mad, and David and the American, having collected their certificates and cheques came down off the platform, leaving the first prize winner to thank the organizers in halting English on behalf of all the tenor competitors. David kissed Jon and me and whispered, "At least I don't have to prepare another item for the Champion's final."

We all adjourned to the pub to celebrate and for a bite of lunch, pursued by a couple of would-be agents/impresarios and accompanied by Marcello Fabioni, who had appeared at the back of the hall just before the winners were announced. Marcello said that he would deal with the men, and he took them apart in the bar, where I noticed that they bought him a drink. This left the three of us free to eat and drink. David felt like getting sozzled, but we pointed out to him that we ought to go in the afternoon to hear his friend Nat sing his final pieces. The afternoon session was due to begin at 2-30, but before then, Marcello beckoned us over and introduced us to one of the men he was with, who was an impresario. He said that at present David did not need an agent, because he, Marcello, as David's teacher would act in that capacity. However, the impresario, whose name was Wesley Johnson, was going to put David on his books as a recital artist. The fact that David's availability for the next year was limited did not, he said, make any difference, as many bookings were made two years ahead. The prospect of having at least some income, albeit limited, for the period after his Ph.D. stipend had finished, appealed to David, who said that it seemed like money in the bank. Mr Johnson went away happy and said that David would be sent a contract in the post.

As we went back into the hall, accompanied by Marcello, David whispered to me, "Dad, I bet that he's already planning to enter me in another competition!" The basses and baritones formed a double class, but there were still nine of them. This class had two first prizes, one for baritones, one for basses, and one second and one third prize, which were for either voice. To cut a long story short, Nat won the third prize with his performance of 'Madamina, in catalogo questo' from Don Giovanni, and 'Largo al factotum' from Rossini's 'Il Barbiere di Siviglia.' As he came back to sit beside his friend Mike, David went across and shook hands with him in congratulation, and invited the two of them to join us at the pub.

At the pub, after David's and Nat's health had been drunk, we discussed what to do next. Marcello had already left for Camford. Nat and Mike were going back to Stamford, where Nat's success would be properly celebrated, and as Mike was driving, one drink was all he dared have. We persuaded Nat that he was not so restricted and he had a second drink before leaving. I knew that I could not really go back to Loxton that night, so I decided to leave the next morning. Jon lent me his brick-like cellphone and I rang Helena to tell her, and passed the phone over to David for him to tell her the result of the competition. She was of course delighted.

The three of us returned to Dinkerton and I invited the boys to dine with me at my hotel. They were going to stay in Dunchester for the Championship finals, so that David could pick up a few hints on technique and behaviour. It was a very alcoholic evening, but we all had a wonderful time, and when the boys left to return to their hotel, I reckoned that they were too sloshed to fuck! Next day I went home, and the boys heard the Champion finals before driving back to Camford.

Chapter 38 David

Work begins on the Fitness Centre

My second year of research was nearly at an end. The lab work continued to make progress: we had one paper in the press and were writing a second. Marcello told me that he was entering me for two competitions the following calendar year. The contract with Johnson had been signed, and I had been sent a list of possible recital dates for the year, and I had accepted four of them, and I signed up for six for the year after. I was obviously going to be hectically busy with finishing my lab work, writing my thesis, the recitals, the competitions, the work with the Chapel choir and Bach Choir, not to mention keeping our Italian up to scratch. In addition the family were coming to Rockwell's Barn for Christmas, and I was planning a very special event for New Year's Eve. Jon was busy in the lab, and was going to have to take a few days off to go to inspect his forestry and drystone wall projects before the weather deteriorated. Money continued to roll in for the Men's Fitness Centre, and Jon's anonymous trust had released to the trustees the second £500K that had been promised, so that there was now more than two million pounds available and work could begin, subject to planning permission. Jim Everthorpe did his work well, and planning permission was granted without any hassle from the sexual equality lobby. So towards the end of September, Jon invited me to join him at the ceremony to lay the foundation stone of the new building. It was pretty low-key. The committee had decided not to go for a celebrity to perform the ceremony, so it was carried out by the Provost of M College, the committee Chairman.

The next day Jon left with Robin Banks on a five-day tour of the five established woodland sites, and a search for sites for a further three. I hoped that Robin would not try anything other than 'kissy-cuddly' with Jon, but I knew that Jon would ring me if he did anything that he later regretted. They would be gone for a total of seven days, and hoped to take in the drystone wall sites at the same time, but meeting Michael T, the team leader on site, rather than touring with him. Early in October, they would be back, and a new academic year would begin.

THE END