Luke's Early Years

They asked me to withdraw for five minutes, and when I was recalled they told me that I had a place in the college to study for the honour school of Modern Languages starting in the following Martinmas Term, provided that I got A grades in all my four A level subjects. I went home in a state of near euphoria. It was not worth going back to school for the rest of the day, so I looked at my watch, and when it was break time at school, rang Mark on his cellphone to tell him that I had a conditional offer at Buckingham College. He was delighted, and within a few days himself was summoned to interview in Oxbridge. My parents of course were also pleased at my offer. On reflection they had realized that it would not be good to for me to be in a college at which my cofather was a tutor, albeit in a totally unrelated discipline. Mark received a similar offer from the Oxbridge college to which he had applied.

Chapter 11

Mark meets my parents

As the weeks went by, our opportunities for sex were of course quite limited, and we were also busy swatting for our exams in late June. Nevertheless, we did manage a few 69 sessions when we told Mark's parents that we were collaborating on a homework project, and developed quite a skill at synchronizing our orgasms, as well as a taste for semen!

With few opportunities for sex, we did seize every opportunity during the school day to meet up and canoodle with one another in a quiet corner out of doors where we were unobserved. This habit however brought about a big downfall in our social acceptance. One day a group of our year came past as we were engaged in a heavy kissing session. News rapidly spread round the sixth form that we were a pair of faggots, and a number of unpleasant comments were made, as well as many jocular ones. There was an element of glee among some of the boys that two of their older classmates had been spotted in a compromising situation. However, neither of us gave a shit. As long as our behaviour did not come to the attention of the school authorities, we were not unduly worried. Luckily there was no Facebook in those days. The resulting lack of popularity did not in any way have any impact on us. It was probable that the story reached some of the teachers, but as we were of the academic elite (the 'crème de la crème', as Miss Jean Brodie called it in Muriel Spark's novel), nothing was said or done, although there was some jeering by our fellow students when we were seen together.

One day at school, I said to Mark, "I want you to meet my parents. No strings or implications about our relationship, just as my friend. I've told them about you, and been warned of the dangers of forming emotional attachments when we're about to go to different universities. They know all about how difficult life is for gays, as they're gays themselves."

"Were you brought up by two men then?" asked Mark.

"Yes," I replied "I saw my birth mother when I was about three, but have never seen her since. Of course I can't remember it. She lives in Italy. Can you come for a weekend, and we can all go to our house at Ixton? I'll ask Pop to ring your mother and invite you. Then we'll be able to use the pool."

"Do you miss not having a mother?"

"No, my two fathers have always done everything that a mother would do. The only thing that they couldn't do was to suckle me, so I didn't actually live with them till I was about six months old and had been weaned."

Pop rang Mark's mother and invited him to come and stay with us at Ixton over a weekend. As soon as I got home from school, I was bundled into the 4x4 along with Cathy and we picked up Mark from his home and drove to Rockwell's Barn. Dad arrived shortly afterwards from Oxbridge, where he had been singing, accompanied by Brian Shaw. Brian dropped him off and went on to Fitchey. When Dad arrived, I introduced Mark to both my fathers. He shook hands with each of them, and they looked at him appraisingly, as gays do at all males, especially young ones. "So you and Luke are having good times together?" said Dad in a slightly ambiguous way. We wondered if he meant 'Are you and my son fucking together?' To avoid any embarrassment, we just said "Yes." Pop had prepared an excellent meal of pork pie and salad followed by fruit pie and custard. We consumed a bottle of a nice Italian white wine called Orvieto.

Mark had to use all his charm (and he had a lot of charm, much more than I had) to make us all feel comfortable, but in the end my two fathers warmed to his conversation, and we spent much of the evening talking about music, while drinking coffee and Marsala. Mark had never drunk Marsala before and obviously enjoyed it.

After we had eaten, Cathy said that she had homework to do and would go to bed afterwards. My fathers said they would pop in later and say goodnight. Pop then said to Mark and me, "We won't disturb you when you go to bed, but don't do anything stupid. In particular, Mark, if your parents found out that we had permitted you and Luke to have it off together in our house, there would be all hell to pay. We are treating you as two adults, not as a pair of thick randy teenagers, so please behave discreetly and responsibly. I take it Mark, that you've not come out to your parents?"

"No," he replied.

"Then for heaven's sake when you do so, please do not betray the confidence that we have placed in you."

After a very pleasant evening, we all went to bed about 11-30 pm. Mark was to sleep in the spare bed in my room, and he got into it while I was saying my prayers. But as soon as I got into bed, naked, as I usually slept, he hopped out of bed and got into mine. "This is the only chance we'll probably ever get to sleep together!" he said, and started to kiss me. "I hope that your arse-crack is nice and clean," Mark continued, "because I'm going to rim you,"

"I'll just go and give it a good wash," I said. I came back from the bathroom bringing my towel with me and spread it on the bed. I lay on top of it, spread my legs and waited for Mark. He pulled my arse-cheeks gently apart and buried his face in my crack. I moved the lower half of my body into a kneeling position and bent forward to improve his access to my fundament. He licked the hair on either side of my hole before pushing his tongue into my sphincter and running it round the rim. I nearly swooned with the pleasure of the sensation. How, I wondered, does this guy know how to give so much pleasure if he's never done it before? But then I just relaxed and gave way to enjoying the attention that my anus was being given. The kissing and lingual exploration continued for about five minutes, and my dick was getting harder and I could feel the tension building up as I approached a climax. Mark set to work again with his tongue and teeth, gently nibbling my anal hair before endeavouring to push his tongue inside me. The pre-orgasmic tension began to build up inside me and I suddenly and with great violence, came and shot my load onto the towel. Mark gave my buttocks a final kiss and I turned on my side, got hold of him and began to smother him with kisses. "That was wonderful!" I said. "I bet that whatever my parents are doing, and I bet they fuck like rabbits, they won't be enjoying it as much as we are! You're a great lover, Mark. What would you like me to do to you?"

"Just suck me," he replied. His dick seemed bigger than I had ever seen it before, and he had obvious got a big turn-on by rimming me. I took it gently into my mouth and began to lick the head. Then I began to suck and gently chew it, my hands stroking his hips and smooth belly. I licked the sides of his shaft and moved down and began to lick his balls and gently took one into my mouth. He wriggled with delight. "You're getting good at this!" he exclaimed. I took his dick back into my mouth and before very long he discharged his man-juice into my mouth. I swallowed the white blood eagerly and began to kiss his belly. After about half an hour of kissing and cuddling, we cleaned ourselves up in the bathroom and I rinsed the spunk stain from my towel. We got back into bed, and soon fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

Next morning, instead of further lovemaking, we got up early, put on bathrobes and went down to the pool, where we disrobed and swam fifty lengths each naked, just to satisfy ourselves that contrary to the stories about us at school, we were not lazy effete faggots, but loving energetic teenagers. We got out of the water and showered in the men's changing room, again without much intimacy, and I had to shave. We then put our bathrobes back on and went into the kitchen, where Pop was cooking bacon and Cathy was already eating.

"Good morning, boys," she said. "Did you have good swim?" and grinned at us in a knowing way. "What college in Oxbridge are you going to, Mark?" she asked.

"Holy Cross College," he replied.

"Is that a gay college, like the one that Luke's going to?" she asked.

"No, it's a perfectly ordinary co-ed college, founded in 1472," he replied.

"Will you miss one another?" she then asked.

"Of course," I replied, "but we are each going to be very busy and no doubt we will form new friendships."

"We've learnt a lot from each other," said Mark, "but we both know that it's too early to get involved in a fixed relationship."

"So long as there's no heartbreak, then of course you're right," she said wisely.

Chapter 12

I leave school

August came and with it our exam results. Mark and I had both got straight A grades. Our parents were of course delighted, and so were we, but we both knew that when we left to go to our respective universities, our sexual relations would end, but we also knew that we would remain good friends. It was a relief, in spite of honour awards and certificates, to get away from the stultifying atmosphere of school into the adult world.

The other important happening was that Dr DC, the senior chemistry tutor at St Boniface's telephoned Pop to say that he was going to nominate him for an honorary fellowship of the college on the dual grounds of his tutorial services (Pop's first year students always did very well) and the fact that he was a substantial financial benefactor. He had been donating £10K per annum to the college for the past thirty years or so. Pop's nomination was seconded by Edward, and at a meeting of the Governing Body at the end of September, he was unanimously elected with the enthusiastic support of the President, Lady Howarth. She was in her final year of office, and was due to retire at the end of the academic year after about twenty-five years in the job. Indeed it was she who had promoted the amendment of the college statutes to provide for a fixed retirement age for the President of 75. Up till then, no retirement age had been stipulated and some Presidents had remained in office until they dropped dead. She had had a glittering career, rising from being Dr Elizabeth Howarth via Dame Elizabeth Howarth and then round about the turn of the century, raised to a life peerage as Baroness Howarth of Laurifax. Since the breakup of her marriage due to irreconcilable disputes with her husband about their gay son, whom Mr M wanted to disown, she had been a strong upholder of gay rights and recognition of the contribution of homosexuals to Camford University's academic distinction.

But none of these events made much impact on my life as a student, and equipped with the necessary towels and bed-linen, at the beginning of October Pop drove Luke Scarborough the new freshman to the porter's lodge of Buckingham College with a large suitcase, and left me there standing on the pavement and drove away to garage the car. My life away from home had begun.

TO BE CONTINUED...