Jack and The Fat Man Pt. 03

They sat and talked for a while and Jack, flushed with his newly found self assurance, told Arnold how easy it was to deal with Mason's ridicule. He couldn't be more thankful for Arnold's advice and support.

"The photo helped too," he explained excitedly. "Just like you told me to, I pictured it when he was shouting out at me, Arnold. It kind of made me feel, I dunno, powerful?"

Arnold smiled warmly. "Like I said, Jack. Knowledge is power. The more you have, the more you control. Ain't nothing like having something on someone that they want to keep secret."

They both felt it. Their friendship was growing and despite the huge age difference, they were bonding more and more, but it was probably stronger for Jack. Arnold was like a father figure, or an older uncle maybe. He had life experience and he could learn a lot from him. Plus he was nothing like he'd expected him to be. Nothing like the rumours or gossip. He was nice. He was understanding and apart from the very first evening he'd made Jack feel normal. More than normal really.

And then there was.......the sex. Arnold had given him a glimpse of just how good, of how natural, it could be between 2 men. Simply put. Jack felt both wanted and comfortable. Although, it had to be said, his fantasies were becoming anything but comfortable or normal. Or so he thought. Maybe, just maybe, one day he might feel confident enough to ask the old man about them.

"So it's just my bedroom to do, Jack," Arnold said, bringing Jack back from his thoughts. "Ain't no need to worry about anything up there. I ain't got nothing to hide."

Why he said that, Jack had no idea. Maybe because it was his bedroom? His personal space? It's not like he had people in his bedroom often, but then he couldn't be sure of that, given the photo of Bob. Whatever, he grabbed the cleaning trug and vacuum cleaner and headed upstairs.

It really wasn't what he expected, especially when he thought about the rest of Arnold's cottage. The bedroom was just so, well, clean. The bed, obviously a king size at the very least, was perhaps just a little too big for the size of the room. A huge deep looking, white covered duvet was spread across it with the top third turned down. Pillows, 4 to be exact, again white, were precisely placed beneath a solid oak headboard. It looked very sturdy with thick square posts at either end and smaller posts filling the gap between them and the top rail. A large black iron ring sat near the top of each post and 4 smaller matching rings were spaced equally along the top rail. Jack, quite innocently, thought they were nothing more than decorative.

Curious, he lifted the duvet and saw that the whole bed was made from solid oak and just like the headboard, black iron rings hung equidistantly around the whole of the frame, 4 at the foot end and 4 on each side. It was unusual, but then Jack didn't really have much experience regarding beds.

Matching bedside cabinets sat at either side and were clutter free save for modern looking tall adjustable angle lamps on each, an alarm clock and on the other, something that looked like a small folder. On one side of the room, the only place it could be really, was a tall similarly matching oak wardrobe. The curtains were black, made from what looked like heavy velvet, as was the lampshade and in stark contrast to the brilliant white walls. Above the headboard was a huge oak framed mirror, as wide as the bed, hanging from black heavy looking iron chains threaded through matching iron rings. The positioning seemed odd, though. It looked too high to Jack's mind. The floor was original, just bare floorboards polished to a high sheen, yet surprisingly grippy.

That was it. Nothing else. No pictures or photos or any other ornaments. Everything looked perfectly placed. It was the tidiest and cleanest room in the whole house.

Even though it looked like there was probably very little real cleaning to do, Jack set about dusting and polishing. After lifting the duvet and carefully folding it over the mattress, he started with the bed frame and it was then that he noticed a large antique looked wooden box tucked underneath. That too had black ironwork hinges and clasp, locked with an old brass padlock. He considered whether Arnold expected him to polish that too, so used both hands to drag it out. It was heavy, but slid easily and when he'd finished he pushed it back, carefully making sure he left it as he'd found it.

And so he made his way around the room until he got to the bedside cabinet with the folder resting on the top. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it. Just a plain black A4 sized ring binder with nothing written on the outside to hint at what it contained. It was none of his business anyway, so he moved it onto the bed and polished the cabinet and placed it back.

Arnold stood in the doorway. He'd been there for most of the time, surreptitiously watching Jack as he cleaned. It was pleasing to see that the lad hadn't tried to be nosey. In fact, Jack had been very careful and respectful of his privacy, not once opening any drawers or the wardrobe. In hindsight, perhaps he should have left the folder open because that's exactly why it was there.

"I thought you'd like a beer, Jack," he announced as he stepped inside, 2 cans in his hands.

He jumped in surprise, knocking the can of polish to the floor. It landed with a loud clatter.

"Sorry," Arnold added as he sat down. "Didn't mean to catch you off guard. What do you think of my bedroom?"

As his heart rate returned to normal, Jack picked up the polish and put it next to the folder, before accepting the offered can of beer.

"It's....um....it's nice, Arnold," he answered hesitantly.

"Not what you expected, eh?" he wheezed and cracked open his beer. "It used to be mum's room, but I gutted in when she passed and made it mine. It's bigger than my old room," he explained with a nod towards the door.

"No, it's not what I expected to be honest," Jack said, careful to avoid stating an opinion. "But it's nice. I wish I had a bed this big," he added in good humour.

Arnold took a large swig from his can and belched loudly, before explaining he needed a big bed. "This is my sanctuary up here, Jack," he continued. "The one room in the cottage where I can be whatever I want to be. Only people I invite up here ever get to see it, but there's been a few," he grinned and patted the bed. "Seen a fair bit of action has this bed."

Unsure what to say, Jack took a gulp from his can. Already, his tiny cock stiffened at the tone in Arnold's voice and the closeness of his huge arm.

"So, I'm guessing last night was the first time you tossed a bloke off fully?" he asked.

Jack marvelled at the old man's ability to make it all sound so normal. There were no airs and graces to Arnold. He said things as he saw them and that made Jack feel comfortable. The direction of the conversation was already causing his hard cock to leak though. He nodded his head.

Arnold placed a huge hand on Jack's thigh and squeezed gently. "Ain't no reason to worry, Jack. I ain't ever gonna hurt you or judge you. Whenever you're with me up here, you can be yourself. Ain't nothing you could say or do that'll shock me. You're a young gay lad trying to come to terms with life and I remember how hard it was for me."

Despite his raging erection, Jack suddenly felt like crying. His whole day had been perfect, well almost. Colleagues had talked to him, his brother had shocked him and now Arnold showing him a level of understanding he'd never experienced before. Of course it wasn't just that.......but he knew the old man meant every word he said.

"I loved it," he suddenly exclaimed. It just burst out with no forethought. "I mean......I loved wanking you off. You're so big and I'm so tiny. I've never felt anything like that before. I can't stop thinking about it. I mean...."

He had to pause for breath and Arnold took the opportunity to wrap an arm around Jack's slender shoulders.

"Slow down," he said with a laugh. "Take your time, Jack."

Tears of relief mixed with joy ran down Jack's cheeks, but he was laughing. When he'd recovered enough to speak coherently he looked up into Arnold's dark eyes.

"I'm confused, Arnold. I know I'm gay and I have you to thank for that, but I have so many thoughts and fantasies I don't know where to begin. I haven't even seen any porn on the internet.," he explained. "You said I can be anything I want to be when I'm with you, but I don't know what that is. I want you to teach me."

Arnold pulled away, holding Jack's shoulders so he could look him square in the eyes. It was his turn to be caught off guard, but fuck, he wasn't going to let this opportunity get away. The first thing he did was kiss him and Jack responded with equal passion and urgency. So much so, that Arnold almost had to force him to stop.

"Am I doing it right?" Jack asked nervously, but eager to know.

"Ain't no right or wrong way to snog, Jack," he said, stroking the young man's neck. "A kiss is a personal thing. The more you do it the more natural it'll feel, but you kiss good, Jack. My prick is hard as fucking rock."

Jack giggled when he looked down to see the huge tent he'd caused in Arnold's shorts.

"You said you ain't seen any porn," Arnold continued. "Well, you can look at as much porn as you like here, starting with that folder," he said nodding at the bedside cabinet. "I put a few photos in there just in case you got curious. Don't think you have to try everything you see though and there ain't much in there that's too extreme."

Jack reached for the folder and settled in next to Arnold, before opening it up. His tiny cock was rigid and his stomach fluttered excitedly. The first photo was the same one he'd seen, but with the print so much larger than it'd been on Arnold's phone he could see more detail. Like Bobs cock for instance. Of course it was much bigger than his, probably about the same size as his brother's both in length and girth. He was pretty hairy too, but it looked lighter in colour and he could also see precum at the tip. It was nothing like Arnold's though. His hands were resting against Arnold's thighs, but it was the look on his face that really intrigued Jack.

"He likes it," he muttered. "He likes sucking you. I can see it in his eyes."

Arnold put his arm back around Jack's shoulders. "He does like it. He's been sucking me off for nigh on 40 years, Jack."

The questions started to resurface in Jack's mind. "But why? Why does he do it if he's married. Is he gay? How did it start?"

"Well, he ain't gay, Jack, but he's a cocksucker and his wife ain't got a cock," he laughed. "Some guys, even though the live a heterosexual life, have other needs. Bob's is sucking cock and to cut a very long story short, it started after he found out I'd fucked his wife. He confronted me in the shop one afternoon and I took him out back so we could talk privately. He said he wanted to know why his wife had cheated on him. What I had that he didn't. So I fucking showed him and before I knew it he had my cock in his mouth."

Jack listened intently, he wanted to know everything but knew Arnold would tell him eventually. "But you already knew you were gay when you.......erm...."

"Fucked Sarah? It's ok, Jack. Like I said, you don't need to worry about what you say when you're here or how you say it," he told him patiently. "Yeah, I knew, but I wasn't positive. I was confused, like you've been. She offered so I fucked her. It was ok, but it also confirmed everything I'd been feeling too. Lets just say I preferred fucking Bob's mouth than I did her cunt."

As if he could read Jack's mind, he tapped the folder knowingly. "The answer to your next question is in the next photo."

Oh God! Jack's eyes widened in utter shock. There was Bob, his face and mouth literally plastered with cum. It was disgusting really, yet Jack was fascinated and then his little cock began spewing precum. As he took in the image, he noted that Arnold must have timed the moment because there was a long shot of spunk erupting from Bob's cock that was gripped in his fist. It was disgusting yes, but it was somehow highly erotic too. He instantly put himself in Bob's place, trying to imagine what it must have felt like. He was stuck for words.

"He likes it on his face as well as in his mouth," Arnold stated casually. "Lots of cocksuckers like Bob enjoy a facial, Jack."

It was pretty obvious Bob enjoyed it, but it was also obvious that Arnold used him for sex. He wasn't praising Bob for being a good landlord or a close friend. Oh no. Bob was a cocksucker. Nothing more than that. He wasn't sure why that turned him on either, but it did. His tiny cock was raging.

"What does it....taste like?" he asked tentatively.

"Spunk?" Arnold asked, answering before Jack nodded. "Every guy tastes different, although I'm ain't much of a cocksucker to be honest, Jack. Some taste really strong and salty, others less so. It's hard to describe the taste really. You either love it or you don't. You taste good though, kinda sweet and salty and sort of fresh. I'll be tasting a lot more of your spunk, Jack."

His heart was beating so hard, Jack could feel it. Never in a milion years would he have anticipated the kind of conversation he was having with Arnold. With anyone for that matter. So taken by the compliment and everything that was happening, he didn't even consider the implications of what the old man had said. He just knew that he wanted more. Much, much more and he couldn't think of anyone better to teach him.

He glanced down and a small shudder rippled along his spine. Arnold's shorts were tented and a large wet patch had darkened the purple material. It was still difficult for him to comprehend that someone could ever find him attractive.

Arnold was truly living the dream. The lad had asked him to teach him, which he really hadn't expected. And teach him he would, but slowly. He'd let Jack take things at his own pace. He'd give him the chance to grow. Encourage him when he was curious. Take the fear out of it and give him the confidence to realise that nothing was taboo. Living where they lived, his age, his reputation and the sheer lack of decent gay men in the village, he knew just one thing. Young Jack was a once in a lifetime opportunity and his thick cock raged with anticipation.

He noted that Jack hadn't turned to the next photo, his eyes were glued to the image of Bob's spunk spattered face and he knew why.

"You really ain't seen anything like that before?" he asked gently, genuinely amazed by Jack's naivety. Fuck. The thought was deeply exciting.

Still unable to drag his eyes away, he shook his head. "Mum pays my mobile bill. If she ever found out I'd been looking at anything remotely pornographic, I'd be in big trouble."

"Yeah. My mum was a bit like that," he confided. It was also a blatant lie. "That's why I started making my own. It's easier to hide homemade photos and videos. Ain't nothing she could trace," he added. "It's more of a turn on when you know the people you're looking at. More personal."

It was a gentle nudge. Something to pique Jack's curiosity. Arnold had a vast collection of homemade porn. He'd bought a camera right after Bob had sucked him off the first time. What had started out as leverage, had quickly turned into an obsession. It all became so much easier with the advent of camera phones. It also became a lot easier when he realised how good his cock was. Arnold was very proud of his cock. Of course he'd looked at porn. Lots of it too. There wasn't much he didn't get turned on by, but his biggest kick was making his own.

Jack understood, at least he thought he did, but he really had nothing to compare it to. That was Bob Jackson in the photo. The landlord of the only pub in the village. He knew him. Everyone knew him. He'd spoken to him. He'd spoken to his wife and he'd been relentlessly bullied by his son. And there he was, plain as day with his face covered in cum. His open mouth filled with Arnold's lumpy thick spunk whilst he was shooting off his own load. He was a pornstar! And so was Arnold. At least that's how Jack interpreted it.

He turned to the next photo. Taken from the side, it showed a naked man on all 4's on a bed. It was the same bed he was sitting on. Arnold was standing in front him, holding his head and smiling at the camera with his cock stuffed in the man's mouth. There was something about the pose that excited Jack but he couldn't quite work out what it was. Not yet anyway.

He looked small in comparison to Arnold. But then most everyone looked small next to him. He had quite a small cock too, but it was stiff. Maybe it was contrast of the man's smooth skin to Arnold's fur covered body. Maybe it was the difference in their size or the way Arnold's huge hairy belly rested on the man's head. Perhaps it was the sight of Arnold's big, meaty, hairy buttocks and the way they sat atop his huge thighs. Or maybe it was...........oh my God! It was Jack's next door neighbour. The neighbour that used to shout at him whenever he accidentally kicked his ball over the fence. The very same neighbour who'd only that evening said "hello," or something like that, as he left for Arnold's.

In complete shock, he turned as Arnold stood and watched as the old man quickly shed his T-shirt and shorts.

"Put that down, Jack," he said.

There was a fire in his eyes that made Jack shiver and his tiny cock twitched.

"What say you find out what it's like to taste a man's cock."