Tommy's Third Year at College Pt. 01

(A yell from Tommy as he comes.)

Tommy (breathlessly): Oh, Martin, that was fantastic. Thank you!

Martin: Glad to oblige my fag-boy! Tommy, I must stop now and get on with some work. I'm counting the days till I see you again. Goodbye, sweet boy.

Tommy: Goodbye darling Martin.

Chapter 56 Tommy: A weekend in Trabizona

In mid-November, I visited my brother Luke and his partner Tom in Trabizona. Luke said to me, "I'm not very good at presents, Tommy, but to try and make you feel at home in Italy, I've bought you a student ticket for the Teatro Musicale here. You can use it for any performance for which there are any seats available and you only pay 20% of the standard ticket price. I know that you don't need a discount, you've plenty of cash, but it's an incentive to come regularly to the opera here, and you can always stay with us. Both Olivia and Costanza have become very fond of you, and if our guest room is occupied, you can always sleep on the sofa. We would provide a sleeping bag! Moreover, should you wish to bring a friend, he or she could have a trial ticket, which gives an 80% discount for one single performance on production of a student ID."

I was delighted by this. I was slowly catching Martin's enthusiasm for opera, and I always enjoyed the Desperaldi family life. Olivia's confinement was only three months away and the rate of growth of her bump had slowed down somewhat. Pregnancy suited her, she seemed livelier and more outgoing with a baby in her belly.

Giovanni used to sit on my knee and chatter away in fragmented Italian or English. "Mamma aspetta bambino" (Mum's expecting a baby) he would say. I would always reply in English, as instructed by his fathers, even though he was clearly not keen to speak it. "Yes," I would say, "Would you like the baby to be a boy or a girl? Can you think of a name for him or her?" But young though I was, I got quite envious of Luke and Tom, not for their careers, but for their fatherhood.

Because Luke was so much older than me, I had never really thought of him as an older brother, because he had left home before Jon and David adopted me. When I told Luke how I envied his family life, he said, "Tommy, make the most of your freedom and independence while you can. All you have to worry about is study and exams. Forget about relationships and fatherhood while you can! Your freedom will last no longer than your Final Honour Schools." [the Camford name for final exams]. "I'm not suggesting that you spend the next two years in drinking and whoring, but you have other priorities than fatherhood just at the moment."

Chapter 57 Tommy: Back home for the Christmas vacation

The term in Padova finished in mid-December, and long before that I had bought my flight ticket back home to Gatwick airport. Looking back on my first term, I realized how much I had learnt. My Italian was now confident and completely grammatical. Although I had learnt a lot from my lectures, I had also learnt to find my way around the city, to know much more about the public transport and Italian geography and got to know my brother, brother-in-law and sister-in-law much better and developed a fairly healthy friendship with Matteo.

The day after term ended, I said goodbye to my housemates and took the train to Marco-Polo-Venezia airport. It was with some contentment as well as sexual lust that I stepped on to the plane, and it required some considerable effort to avoid jerking myself off in anticipation in the plane's toilet! At the Sussex airport, laden with backpack and suitcase, I followed the signs to the railway station where I bought a ticket to Camford and climbed aboard the Thameslink train. The train was a stopping train and it took several hours through and underneath the city of London to reach the midland university city of my birth.

In Camford, I had no sooner got the train door open, than my suitcase was grabbed from me and as I climbed onto the platform, I was grabbed by Martin's strong arms and kissed, briefly but passionately. He pulled me into a corner of the platform out of sight of most passengers and caught in his stranglehold, I was submitted to violent kisses and groping of my crotch.

"Tommy! I've missed you!" said my boyfriend, "But I guess we must get a move on. I've got a cab waiting." We rode in the cab to Octavia Avenue. Both my fathers were out. We dumped my baggage in the hall and Martin more or less dragged me upstairs to our bedroom, where, having locked the door, he began to tear my clothes off. He got quite rough.

"Watch out!" I said "Those are Italian designer trousers that you're pulling down!"

"I want you! Everything's ready by the bed for a fuck session," he said and started to smother my arse with kisses. It was wonderful. I felt in the mood to be dominated!

"I want to feel your skin," I said, "I don't want to be fucked by a half-clad man!" He slowed down and I started to undress him. Getting his jeans and underpants off was a great hassle. The trousers came off relatively easily, but his briefs, already soaking in precome, seemed to get tangled with his huge, slimy rock-hard tool. The next minute he was kissing my belly and nibbling my nipples, which got rock-hard the minute his mouth touched them.

I put both my hands into the small of his back and then slid them down to cup them over each of his buttocks. Just to feel him up against my body was intoxicating. 'To think that I've missed this for weeks!' I thought, revelling in warmth and passion in his body.

He pushed me onto the bed and lay on top of me, still kissing my tits and belly-button. I could feel his sweet breath across my midriff. I spread my legs to give him unobstructed access to my genitals after putting a pillow under the small of my back to lift my anus off the bed. Without a lot of foreplay, he poked his gel-covered fingers into my hole, adding them one at a time as he stretched me, my hole having stiffened up from lack of entry for the past few months.

His cock was just a comfortable size and he entered my arsehole gently, but pushed persistently, and I began to get a nice 'full' feeling in my gut. He began fucking movements, slowly at first, but increasing in speed until he was really ramming me. I loved it. I felt wanted and possessed as he slammed into me with his berubbered tool.

"You're mine, all mine!" he whispered as he did what a man must do. I felt the object inside me get bigger and hotter as he shot his load. By now he had started to sweat, and his sweet perspiration trickled down the upper part of his body and dripped onto my belly. By this time, I was totally lost in passion and lust, and within a few seconds as Martin's sweat hit me, I came violently without my tool coming into contact with anything and drenched the pair of us in come.

Martin leant forward and began to kiss me and stroke my shoulders. As the blood receded from his tool, it went limp and slipped out of me with a slight plopping sound. I pulled him down on top of me and caressed his arse and the small of his back. It all felt silky smooth, and the sensation of being so close to him sent my dick rock-hard yet again. I rubbed it against his come-covered belly until I realized that the condom was coming loose from his soft cock.

He rolled off me, dealt with the prophylactic and then put his mouth round my dick. He chewed my foreskin briefly, before I began to fuck his mouth. It only took a couple of minutes to make me shoot yet again. I fired three shots and filled Martin's mouth. "I love you, my own stud-boy!" I said as he struggled to swallow my huge ejaculate.

We lay together in exhaustion for ten minutes, before we began to talk as we lay there, one of our arms round the other guy.

"Are you going home to Sheffield for Christmas?" I asked him.

"No," he replied, "my father and stepmother are going to Madeira."

"Right, then you must come to Rockwell's Barn again."

"There's just one thing," Martin replied. "Ken will be in Camford for Christmas. Being Scottish, his parents prefer him to come home for New Year. They are old-fashioned Scots, and don't make much of Christmas."

"Then he must come and spend Christmas with us. We can pick him up on Christmas Eve, and take him back to Camford the day after Boxing Day when the Wilsonian reopens. You and I've got plenty of time for shagging before and after the festival. Two days abstinence will do us good! He might have to sleep on a camp bed in the pool room, but I don't suppose he will mind. He'll have the excellent pool toilet facilities all to himself!

However, we may not be able during the festive period to swim naked, or to indulge in sexual hanky-panky. There are too many women and elderly people in the house for that. My grandparents are pretty broadminded, but the festive period is not an appropriate time. My parents prefer to swim naked together without anyone else being present, so we'll come to an arrangement as to when you and I can swim together on our own. My parents have always been reticent about showing themselves naked to me in case some story got to Social Services and they got suspected of abusing their adopted son. They are more relaxed about it now, but they prefer to swim on their own, and they can have as much horseplay together as they like, and shag one another in the changing room if they feel like it. You still need sex even in your fifties, you know."

"We'll be eating shortly," said Martin. "So we'd better clean ourselves up. My coating of come is getting crisp and sticky. Let's hop into the shower. Jon is cooking tonight. Then I've arranged for us to go round and see Ken."

Chapter 57 Tommy: We visit Ken and the Lewis family

We walked from Octavia Avenue to Julian Street and rang the bell of Ken's apartment. Invited in, we went up the stairs to knock on Ken's door. He opened it and we gaped to see that he was stark naked. We entered and hastily closed the door. He gave me a kiss of greeting and groped my genitals through my trousers.

"Get your clothes off!" he said, "The coffee will only be a couple of minutes." As I pulled my trousers and underpants down, I noticed Ken's cock visibly stiffening. "I bet you're really sex-starved," he said to me as he watched my own prick beginning to grow. Without further ado, he was on his knees and nibbling my foreskin prior to taking my manhood into his mouth. Martin looked on in amazement at the smile on my face. By now, he also had removed all his clothes.

"This is my second BJ of the evening!" I said, "but I've got big reserves of come after nearly three months of only occasional wanking."

"You're too young for abstinence," said Ken, momentarily removing his mouth from my cock. "Men of our age need daily release. A squirt a day keeps the shrink away!" He then proceeded to suck my dick. He did it very skilfully, concentrating on the head and foreskin, and using his tongue and lips with great skill.

In spite of coming only a couple of hours before, it did not take long for me to realize that I was nearing the edge. But before I slipped over and shot my load, Ken removed my cock from his mouth and began to suck my balls, one at a time. Martin had never done that, nor of course had Carol. It was very enjoyable. Then he took my cock back into his mouth and I successfully fucked his mouth and again came on a massive scale.

As we drank coffee, I could not help noticing that Ken had lost weight. When asked, he said that he had started to run daily as well as swimming, and had started to avoid fast food. His incipient paunch had shrunk to a rounded belly. "When I look down, I can now see my cock!" he announced proudly. "Previously it was hidden by my overhanging belly!"

"That's from spending hours on end sitting on your arse in the Wilsonian!" said Martin. "I even think that your arse looks more muscular."

"How about a closer examination?" said Ken, "I like being rimmed! But maybe you ought to wait. I've got a fantastic new porn DVD!" He moved to the TV set and turned things on. "It's called The interracial Fuckathon." he told us.

We settled down on Ken's sofa to watch, Ken sitting between us, holding our cocks in each hand. It was quite a long film. The plot involved four men, one from each racial group, who had a competition to see how many men each could fuck in 30 minutes. The assistants, that is the "fuckees", were a random selection of willing men from all racial groups, who were all labelled and lined up in the same order. Each bent over to display his arse, and the competitors could start from either end of the row. Each was allowed a minute to fit a condom on his tool for each fuck, and each had an assistant to collect and count the used condoms.

The film lasted nearly three hours in total, but no man could watch more than a few minutes without getting a stiffie, and within half an hour we were all wanking furiously, panting and grunting as we each came.

"This is the kind of film of which you only watch for ten minutes per session!" said Martin. "I hope all the cast of that movie were well paid! It must be terrifically demanding. Not something that I would want to do."

"Yes. Do you know, I've never seen the end of the film, to see who wins! Thank you both for not squirting on the upholstery of my sofa!" said Ken.

"Ken, how would you like to spend Christmas with us at Ixton?" said Tommy. "You might have to sleep on a camp bed in the pool room, but the room is well heated and you would have good food and a convivial time, even without sex, and there are plenty of facilities in there for a good wank session if you needed it! We would bring you back here the day after Boxing Day, or San Stefano, as we call it in Italian."

"Oh, thank you very much, Tommy. It will be nice to meet your relations. The thought of spending Christmas in this flat on my own does not appeal, nor the idea of a takeaway Christmas dinner!

"Do you spend much time in college?" I asked.

"Not really. I dine there once a week, but I don't know many people there. I'm a Birmingham graduate."

A few days later, I said to Martin, "We're going out this afternoon. Last night I phoned my old foster parents, and we've been invited to call in there for afternoon tea."

We walked the couple of kilometres from Octavia Avenue to the road where Mr and Mrs Lewis lived. I knocked on the door of the house where I had spent nearly a year of my childhood awaiting the final decision of Camfordshire Social Services to let Jon and David adopt me. They had been loving carers for me during my early adolescence, and even after adoption, I spent the time after school with them until David and Jon got back from work, when one of them would come and collect me.

By now, all their foster-children had grown up and had left home. The youngest, about a year older than me, was at university, and the Lewises were enjoying a well-earned retirement. "Tommy! How nice to see you! It must be over a year since the last time we saw you. How are you?" said Mrs Lewis.

"Growing up rapidly!" I said with a grin. "May I introduce my boyfriend, Martin? Before you say anything, yes, I'm gay, or rather, bisexual. My fathers did everything to prevent me growing up gay, but it didn't work. Martin fell in love with me, and that was that. I abandoned my girlfriend for him!"

"I remember the Italian girl that you used to go out with. What was her name? Beatrice?"

"Yes, I think she must have realized early on, long before I did, that I batted for the other side. Certainly her grandmother did. Beatrice's at Islip, but we scarcely ever see one another now. But how are you two?"

"We're both very well. After years of foster-children, it's nice to have the house to ourselves, and to go on holiday whenever we like. We went to Florida last year. So Martin, how did you meet Tommy?"

"In a lecture on Etruscan civilization!" said Martin with a grin. "We were sitting next to one another and I took a fancy to him. At that time we were both studying classics, but Tommy has moved on to Italian."

"Just like your brother then!" said Mrs Lewis with a smile.

"Yes, I replied. "Actually I'm studying in Italy at the moment, in Padua, but I'm home for Christmas. Martin is on his own this academic year! But I'll be back in college next October for my final year. You know, I've never told you how much I love you both for the time that you looked after me. To you it may see only a short time in your lives, but what you and your children did for me then probably saved me from a breakdown later in my teens. I have never had the slightest desire to trace my birth parents. Who would want to meet a pair of psychopaths?

"My fathers have always been very good to me, but I'm beginning, since I met Martin, to realize that I have been overprotected. Still, when I went up to Boni's they did cut the apron strings. They told me at the beginning of the Martinmas term that they didn't want to see me till Christmas, and of course in the last few months in Padua, I've had to fend for myself."

"Yes, you told me yourself," said Martin "that your parents didn't tell you much about sex in case someone accused them to Social Services of child abuse!"

"Well, I'm over eighteen now, so Social Services now have no jurisdiction. Last year we moved out of our respective colleges and lived in a flat in St Saviour's Street, but this year Martin is back in college, and so will I be in October next."

We all sat down at the tea-table and Mrs Lewis began to pour the tea. After more than ten years, she still remembered that I liked milk in my tea but no sugar. Newly baked scones were passed round, and we began to split them and apply butter and jam.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" asked Mr Lewis.

"We're both going to Ixton, along with a friend who isn't going home for Christmas," said Martin. "Tommy's grandparents live there permanently now. Are your family coming home for the festival?"

"Three of them are, but the two eldest now have their own families and are staying at home. None of them live in Camford: they couldn't afford the house prices here."

This reminded me about how lucky my family was. We children never needed to get a mortgage to buy a house. Sandro and Luke had had their houses bought for them, although Cathy's husband Edmund had refused any financial assistance. He said that he made so much money that a mortgage was not a financial burden. But they got a large wedding present from our parents to buy furniture with.

We left the Lewises about 6 pm, and I promised that we would come again when I was back in Camford.

Chapter 59 An unexpected visit for Tom

One day in Trabizona in March, Tom Appleton received a phone call from his sister Liz. "Tom you know that Dad has been ill with lung cancer for the last couple of years. In spite of chemotherapy, it's now much worse, and Elaine his partner has arranged for him to move into a hospice, because he's not expected to live more than another six weeks or so. I'm paying for the hospice care. If you want to see him before he dies, you need to have a bag packed and be prepared to drop everything, and fly home, preferably to Newcastle, at a day's notice."

She said that she had notified Daisy, Tracy, Lizzie and Josie (their four older sisters, whom Tom had not seen for years) and they all said that they wanted nothing to do with their father and would not come to the funeral when it happened unless he had left them some money.

"You and I know how unlikely that is. Because Elaine has worked all her life and kept her personal money separate from his, and only spent about half her earnings on housekeeping and bills, she is financially secure, but if he turns out to have debts, it will be us, not her, who have to pick up the tab. He's never bothered to make a will.