Max Carrington's "Coup de Foudre"

But my fears were quickly banished as suddenly with a surprising display of strength, he flipped us both over and I found myself on my flat on my back with him on top of me. He smiled at me, stood up, went across to the condom drawer and in so doing gave me my first real look at his naked arse. I was shocked to see that it showed those telltale traces I knew so well, of a relatively recent encounter with a cane. But before I could ask him about it, he was back on top of me, with a fresh, heavily lubed rubber on his cock. He simply hoisted my legs over his shoulders and the next thing I knew he was deep inside me giving me the pounding of my life. It was a marvellously exhilarating experience and when we both reach orgasm together it was again with that same intense explosive violence, the likes of which I had never before experienced. Simon was every bit as good with his cock as I was with mine and I considered myself a crack.

We then went off into the shower together, where we hugged and kissed one another under the hot water as it washed away the post-coital sweat in which we were both bathed. We dressed and he then took me off to a small place to eat, where I enquired about his welted arse. "Oh I have to tell you about that." He said. "It goes back to my school days and my first sexual experience. (And this dear reader, you are not going to believe, but it is just as true as is the rest of this story.) Well I was then in my final year, in the upper sixth and we had this cane-happy PE master who one day decided on some jumped-up pretext that I needed a beating and so he had me in his study, naked-arsed across a chair and gave me six swingeing cuts with his cane. It was by no means my first experience of the cane, but this guy really laid it on with a vigour I had never before experienced. But then I guess he thought he had gone a bit too far and he relented and offered to massage a little pain-killing cream into his handiwork."

"I suppose you can guess where I am going with this. One thing led to another, the cream became a lubricant and before I had time to object, the next thing I knew, his cock was inside my hitherto virgin arse and that was that: I was being fucked for the first time. To be quite honest, I actually found that I quite liked it and it got even more interesting when he asked me to do the same to him. Can you imagine it: an eighteen year old virgin schoolboy fucking his school teacher, a guy in his mid-thirties? Well that was the beginning of three terms of regular sex between us. Anyway at that first time attempt with my cock, I think I acquitted myself quite well and by the time I left school I knew for sure something that I had suspected since I was about fifteen; that I was totally gay. So there you have it. I guess he and I were what are loosely known as lovers, but I really don't think much love was involved: it was just lust on both sides. But there it was. And after that first time with the cane and then being fucked, I acquired a taste for it and so, still today, I quite enjoy from time to time, someone giving my arse a thrashing and then fucking me. Frankly it is a bit bizarre, but I like it; so there it is."

I listened in amazement to this story which sounded horribly similar to what had happened to me. So I asked him where he had been at school. "Oh it's a place up north, you've probably never heard of, in a village called Frogmore. I went to Frogmore Court Prep School and then to Frogmore Academy for Boys near York."

"Simon, this you are not going to believe, but I think I can tell you the name of your PE teacher; he was called Richard Harris; am I right?"

"Yes, you are right; but how in the name of hell can you possibly know that?"

"Because, old son, I too went to Frogmore and it was the PE teacher, Richard Harris who introduced me to sex in just the same way as he did you. And for three terms - he got to me in the upper sixth - he and I were regular communicants: we had sex at least twice and often three times a week. I wonder if he made a regular thing of having a boy a year to fuck. But Simon how old are you? twenty-four? twenty-five? I'm twenty-seven myself; so how come we did not know each other at school?"

"Simple: I know I look older, but I am in fact only twenty going on twenty-one; so you probably left Frogmore about the time I entered. But what an extraordinary business; do you suppose we were destined to meet?"

"Simon, let me ask you this. Why were you standing around in the park this afternoon? Is it a place where you go regularly in the hope of picking someone up? You Simon, are sexually a very attractive stud, as you must already know, so guys must be falling over themselves to pick you up. I know I was; in fact to be honest it was much worse than that, for as soon as I saw you, I just knew I intended to fuck you, an act which you yourself made very easy for me."

"No not at all. In fact I have never been there before today. I just went out for a walk that's all."

"Well, Simon, I'm not much a believer in destiny, but I too had never before had walked in the park until this afternoon and yet we met, so perhaps, after all, we were meant for each other."

We left the restaurant and walked back towards Simon's flat. I was unsure of what was now going to happen as Simon, several years my junior, as I had just learned, was the motive force behind our embryo relationship which I desperately wanted to continue, but I did not really know how he felt about me. Anyway I need not have worried, for he said: "Why don't you come back to the flat with me; the night is still young and if you feel like it, we could take up where we left off." If I feel like it? He had to be kidding, for that was exactly what I felt like: another two or three hours of really good sex with this super young stud would be like a dream come true. So we spent the next few hours, like Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, or better put each playing in our turn the role of fucker and fuckee in what became a more or less non-stop bout of anal copulation. You name it, we probably did it! I am sure that some of the stuff we did to each other was really obscene; but what the hell; we were consenting adults in private so who gives a shit about what anyone else thinks about gay sex? We really had a ball together!

Finally around eleven or so, we were both pretty shot, as fucking can take lot out of you even when you are young and fit as we both were, so I made as if to leave. "You don't have to leave, you know, unless you absolutely must. Max, I'd really like you to stay the night, that's if you don't mind sharing a bed with me. How about it?" How about it! I had never, ever shared a bed with another man, or with a woman for that matter and here was the man of my dreams suggesting that we sleep together. Well, I was staggered by the turn of events: that we had met just a few hours earlier in the park; had gone on to fuck each other silly and that now we were to share a bed. But I had already, in one sense, gone further with Simon than I had done with any other person I had ever known: I had kissed him and in turn he had returned the kiss. And that is how the pair of us, totally naked of course, found ourselves in his bed that night. We did not actually have sex once we were in bed, but we were all over each other. I kissed his body all over and he mine, and we both indulged ourselves in researching each other's cock.

By the time we finally fell asleep, it is safe to say that there was nothing we did not know about each other's body. For me what had been a desire to fuck on first sight, which had been satisfied, had now changed into love at first sight: I just knew that Simon was the man for me. I knew nothing at all about him other than his name and where he had gone to school. But nothing else mattered as I knew I wanted him and I prayed that the feeling might prove mutual.

Next morning, I woke first and went into the shower to be joined a few minutes later by Simon, who after kissing me, proceeded to give my arse a good morning wake-up call, which I then happily returned. Over breakfast I asked Simon what he did for a living. Remember that all we had done until now, other than fuck each other silly, was to exchange names learn that we had both been at the same school and had had similar experiences with one of the masters. "So what exactly do you do for a living, Simon?" He winced and pulled a wry face as I asked the question. "Well Max, if you really must know, which I suppose you must, in the light of our developing relationship (my heart jumped for joy at this remark: a very positive comment I thought) I'm what is usually, known as Male Escort. I take it that you know what a Male Escort does: the services he renders to his clients and all that." He then handed me a card which said:

Jeremy

Male Escort

Stimulation and Discipline

Absolute discretion assured

Tel: xxx xxx xxx

"So what do you actually do for your clients, Simon?"

"Well that all depends. I have two main groups whose wishes are different. One group consists of businessmen who are happily married and lead normal sex lives with their wives, but who from time to time enjoy having a little anal sex, for which they pay me handsomely. And then there is another group, usually ex-public school types like us, who developed a taste at school for the cane, as I myself did, and who from time to time call on my services to cane their backsides for them and sometimes, but not always, to fuck them."

"But one thing I have to tell you. No one ever fucks me. My business is a one way street. I do the beating and I do the fucking. If a client wants to fuck butt himself, then he has to look elsewhere as my arse is not for sale. But as you can see, it keeps the wolves from the door the door. And just so that you know, my parents are very old-school and when they learned that I was gay they just disowned me. So at least I am free of the burden of parental disapproval hanging over me as we no longer have any contact. God alone knows what they would think if they knew how I earned my living. I didn't go to university when I left Frogmore as my parents would not stump up the funds unless I renounced my homosexuality, which you know as well as anyone the likes of us cannot do. We are what we are and we have to live with ourselves and our friends have to accept us as we are. So I had to earn a living somehow and I fell into the male escort business, which to be honest I really enjoy. And to conclude this, shall I call it confession; I do hope that you don't paint me as an untouchable, as I would hate to think that telling you all this has ruined what I see as a promising friendship."

"Oh and just one other thing; you may have noticed that on my business card, I use my second name, Jeremy.

I could not have cared less what Simon did for a living: he could have been the garbage collector for all I cared; I just knew that I wanted him: that he was the man for me. But when I considered what he had told me, which some people might have found shocking, I thought of the sort of sex life I myself was leading at present. I had no firm commitment to anyone and like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower, hopped from one man to another as the fancy took me. So where was the difference other than that he was paid for his services whereas my activities were not? But there was an important difference: my relationships were always two-way: fucker and fuckee. I both fucked my partners and in turn allowed them to fuck me; in fact I wanted to be fucked as part of the relationship, however brief it might be. He, on the other hand, in his professional life, was strictly a deliverer of the services and never the receiver; the ultimate intimacy, which we two had enjoyed last night and again this morning in the shower, was reserved for his friends. And so I did not find his professional activities at all shocking; in fact truth to tell, I wondered what it would be like to do what he was doing to earn his living: it was an intriguing thought.

And then I had a sudden pang of jealousy that Simon might have other friends with whom he indulged himself to the full as we had just done. He surely had; but then again, why should he not? He had only known me for a day, so it seemed quite reasonable and certain that he had a private sex life outside his professional commitments. But try as I might to purge this feeling of jealousy of the unknown from my mind, it refused to budge. How ridiculous to be jealous of someone whom I did not know, on the strength of what had been, let's face it, just a one night stand, albeit a marathon session. But the fact that I had had such a thought, ridiculous as it was, showed just how much I wanted Simon. I knew with absolute certainty that he and I were destined to be together; but did he? In a word, I was totally and utterly in love with this guy and even just the thought that someone else could do with him what we had done together last night made me hot under the collar. Simon was highly competent in the role of both fucker and fuckee; what he had done to me last night was not the work of an amateur; so I was sure he did the same with others and it made me furious: totally ridiculous to be sure; but that was the way I felt.

And so I allowed myself to feel jealous: jealousy base on his freedom, which was something I could not control; jealous of the fact that I was sharing my dream with someone or worse, others, whom I did not know. Actually thinking about things more rationally, I saw that it would be better if Simon, in his private life were like me: foot-loose and fancy-free; it was better for him to fuck around, emotionally unattached to one single person than for him to have a close attachment to one individual as I saw that it might be easier for me to become the love of his life. I shuddered at the thought that someone else could actually make love to him in the way I had last night, for I felt that our sexual acts had gone beyond just the physical; at least they had for me. Perhaps reading this, you can see just how far gone I was; I was star struck: head over heels in love with this guy. I had indeed suffered a true Coup de Foudre.

Simon then asked me what I did by way of work. For my sins, I lied and said that I was a history librarian who catalogued private collections for their owners and that I was at present between jobs. I did not want him to know that I was a wealthy layabout: not yet at least. He then had to go off for the day and service a number of his clients, leaving me at a loose end, moping around by myself for the rest of the day. Never was a truer word said than absence makes the heart grow fonder. We had known each other only two days and I was already missing him. But that evening when we again were in his flat, we managed to outdo ourselves sexually, if that was possible; at least that was how it seemed to me and again I shared his bed.

But things suddenly resolved themselves in a very Simonesque way, for as you know he did not beat about the bush. At breakfast next day he suddenly said to me: "You know what, Max, I think that you and I are absolutely right for each other; so if you feel the same way about me as I do about you, why don't you go and get your stuff and move in here with me. I reckon that you and I are destined to be an item." You could have floored me. Here was a younger man proposing to me, who was already head over heels in love with him, that I move in with him after just two nights together. Of course he was right; we were destined to be an item; of that I had not the slightest doubt; but that it had come so suddenly I had not anticipated it. Indeed, in my plodding way, I had been wondering how to get around to telling him the fact that I thought we were meant for each other and here I had been pipped at the post.

I of course agreed that we should move in together, but I then came clean to Simon and told him about my own situation. His clients for that day were forgotten as I took him south of the park and showed him the huge flat in which I lived. "Simon, unless you had not already divined it, which I guess you probably had as you are as sharp as two pins, I fell head over heels in love with you the moment I saw you in the park. So I agree, let's move in together, but you come and live here. Look I own this place: it's mine. Listen, I have enough loot for both of us."

Simon took one look at me, embraced me standing there in my living room, kissed me firmly on the mouth and said: "Max if you think you are smitten by me, well believe me, that feeling is mutual. I knew from the moment we met two days ago in the park that we were destined for each other, which is why, unless you had not realised it by now, I offered you myself on a plate. Remember I said to you that I was the fish you were hoping to catch. Well you caught me by the fact tht I swam not our net; Max, I am as totally and utterly in love with you, you evidently are with me."

And that is how we began life together. Simon insisted on going on with his male escort business as he said he did not want to feel kept and wanted some cash of his own; he had considerable pride and wanted to pay his way, although he did not have to. We both became totally monogamous from day one and had no sexual affairs at all with any of our previous friends. And to conclude this story, I was again able to wield the cane, at which you will remember, I had been an expert at Frogmore, as Simon insisted that I beat his arse occasionally before going on to fuck him. Ours was a rare and highly satisfying relationship and we were fortunate to have found each other.

I have written this story as if it happened yesterday. In fact, it all took place more than thirty years ago. We are both now in middle age; but we are still together and as much in love with each other today as we were when we first met in the park so long ago: a match made in heaven.

THE END.