Chapter 21 - Blue Skies.

Brian readjusted his grip on the slim hips of the boy draped over the back of the armchair in front of him and thrust home into the plump ass one more time. He loved the dull slapping sound of his balls knocking against the kid’s skin. He also enjoyed the languid groans drifting up from his lover as he hit Justin’s sweet spot for the ten-millionth time.

Damn! This was the life. This was everything. Fucking a gorgeous, willing, enthusiastic blond boy all evening, every day . . . it was like a dream come true for Brian Kinney. He wished it would never end.

Unfortunately, just as that thought flittered through Brian’s mind, the blond boy in question apparently reached his tipping point and, with a tremendous moan, the kid bucked backward, impaling himself on Brian’s dick as hard as he could and then reared up so that the ribbons of cum shooting out of that perfect prick shot out, decorating the chair, the floor and even the wall behind. The sight, the smell of sex in the air, and the feel of that tight ass gripping his dick like a vice brought him off as well a half a second later.

“Applesauce, Brian! That was amazing! I think all my bones have melted . . . again!” Justin proclaimed as he slumped back down over the chair.

Brian slapped the pretty rear end as he pulled out, admiring the pink handprint he made on the ivory skin.

Fuck, the kid was perfect!

After disposing of the condom in the waste basket, he looped his arm around the boneless boy’s waist and started to tow him back to the bed. Justin wasn’t having it though. He struggled to get free and eventually managed to unwind Brian’s arms.

“No, Brian. I HAVE to go! I can’t be late tonight and if you get me back in that bed I’ll never be able to get up again.”

“You’re no fun, Blue Eyes,” Brian complained, catching himself actually pouting before he could stop himself.

“I’m loads of fun and you know it, Big Guy,” Justin replied, sticking his tongue out at his lover like the brat he was. “But I really don’t want to be late tonight. I’m getting my new plane today and I want to have time to give it a thorough tryout before I head off on the mission.”

“A new plane?” Brian asked, watching as the boy towelled himself off and quickly gathered his clothing. “Did something happen to the old one that you neglected to tell me about?”

“Nah. It’s just that I’ve been flying a really old Hawker Hurricane that has tons of air miles on it and has been due for a major refit for ages. But now that our squadron’s almost up to full strength, they’re re-equipping us with brand new Spitfires. It’s about time too - those Messerschmitts are super fast and we needed the upgrade like you wouldn’t believe if we’re going to keep up with them . . .” Justin’s raving about his new plane died off about then as he gradually realized that he probably shouldn’t be telling Brian something so secret. “Um . . . forget I just said that, please, Brian.”

Brian rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. Justin would believe what he wanted to believe, and unless Brian was willing to tell the boy the complete truth, he couldn’t expect the RAF officer to fully trust him. All Brian could do was keep his counsel and hope that, eventually, the boy would learn to trust him because of his actions.

“Fine. Go play with your new toy. Leave me all alone and bored out of my mind. See if I care,” Brian teased, trying to lighten the mood again. “I’ll just have to play with myself, I guess, since you won’t let me invite the janitor up.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Justin commiserated, leaning in to kiss Brian one last time, and making it as good as he could. “I think you’ll survive for one night without me. And you’re darned right you’re not allowed to play with the janitor. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Does that mean you’ll be back tomorrow night to take care of me, Blue Eyes?”

“Well . . . I have to fly tomorrow too, but if you can finish up your meetings - or whatever it is you DO all day with your time - and get here early enough in the evening, I can certainly take care of you before I head off again.” Justin did up the last button on his shirt and then sat on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots. “I don’t want you to feel neglected or anything.”

“Alas, the life of a military spouse . . . we’re always being left behind,” Brian joked, lolling on the bed with a dramatic hand draped over his brow.

“Hah! You, waiting around for anyone - that I would love to see,” Justin laughed as he was getting to his feet and adjusting the jacket of his uniform. “But, if that were the case, then I’d be the one being ‘taken care of’, not you, Brian. Which, by the way, sounds great to me.”

“Don’t get all cocky on me, Blue Eyes. You’re not ready for that yet. Trust me,” Brian replied, getting immediately defensive all of a sudden.

“I thought you liked it when I was all ‘cocky’, Handsome,” Justin said, smirking down at his reclining lover with a defiant grin. “Besides, I think we both know I’d be up to the challenge, regardless of my relative inexperience. Remember, I’m a VERY fast learner, Mr. Professor.” Then Justin leaned down, close enough to whisper in Brian’s ear, and added, “and I’d love to put all my lessons to the test . . . on that pretty little rear end of yours.”

Not waiting for a response, Justin gave the man one last, deep, lingering kiss, using all the techniques he’d already learned from his teacher to prove what a good student he really was. Brian was gasping for breath before it was over. But just when he was really getting into it, the plucky pilot pulled away and left Brian with only a last caress to Brian’s cheek and a smile before he headed off towards the door.

“Hey, that bag there by the chair,” Brian stopped Justin before he could completely escape. “It’s yours.”

“Mine?” Justin picked up the paper bag and looked inside briefly. “What did you bring me this time?” He pulled out two packages of chocolate biscuits and a large artist-quality sketchpad. “Yum! Chocolate cookies! These look delicious, Brian. Thank you. I LOVE chocolate and it’s almost impossible to get here in London these days. This is amazing. But why the sketchpad?”

Brian shrugged. “I saw you doodling on the hotel stationary the other night and figured you could use something better to draw on. There should be some pencils in there too.”

Justin came back over to the bed, all glowing smiles, and grabbed Brian’s chin to tilt his face upwards. “You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met, Brian Kinney! You keep this up and I’m going to fall head over heels in love with you.” Justin gave his man one more, passionate kiss, and then released him. “Okay, I really do have to go now. I’m off to go meet my other new love - my Spitfire. Have a good night, Handsome. And remember, no janitors! Bye!”

“Damn it, Blue Eyes,” Brian complained to the closed door. “You can’t leave me here like this.” He looked down at himself, noting that his dick was already fully erect again despite the fact he’d just come like gangbusters less than five minutes earlier. “And worst of all, I think I’m now jealous of a fucking airplane,” he laughed, wondering at the same time how he’d managed to get this caught up in what had started out as just a bit of adventurous, sexy, fun . . .

“I found him!” Cynthia announced proudly as she slammed a large accordion file of documents down on the desk in front of Brian.

Brian looked up, startled, thinking for half a minute that Cynthia was referring to his secret World War II RAF pilot.

“It wasn’t easy, but I finally figured it out,” she complained, pulling out several yellow pads and stacks of photocopies. “You know, you could’ve given me more to go with to start, Boss.”

“Why would I do that?” Brian answered, looking nervously at the paperwork his personal assistant was flipping through.

“Always having to be a Man of Mystery, huh? Well, no matter. I figured out your little game anyway.” Cynthia pulled one sheet of paper out of the stack and laid it smack dab in front of Brian. “So, your little ‘Harry’ seems to have been an industrious young man.”

Brian took a deep breath and relaxed as soon as he heard the name ‘Harry’. He’d almost forgotten that he’d asked Cynthia to look the kid up. And now that he knew she wasn’t going to quiz him on his personal World War II connections, Brian was rather excited to see what she’d found.

“It was the name that threw me at first,” Cynthia begin her tale. “It seems that Harry’s mother, Vera Hastings, remarried soon after the war ended. Her new husband, George Melton, did well for himself after the war, working his way up from delivery boy to become the owner of a flourishing chain of Grocers in the new suburban areas north of London.” Cynthia held out what appeared to be a copy of some legal document for Brian to look at as she continued. “George also took his role as stepfather to Vera’s son very seriously - so seriously, that he ended up adopting the boy a few years later. Which is how your little ‘Harry’ ended up with the rather pretentious name of, Walter Harold Melton - Harry being his middle name, you see, but since his birth father had also been a ‘Walter Harold’ the father went by ‘Walt’ and the son was called ‘Harry’ as a child. Once I figured out the name thing, the rest was a piece of cake.”

“Walter Melton . . .” Brian repeated the name, looking from the copy of the adoption order to Cynthia with incredulity.

“Yep. The same Walter H. Melton who founded and has run Britcom for the last thirty years,” Cyn smiled at him snarkily. “Seriously, Brian, you could have just told me you wanted me to research our client’s CEO more thoroughly rather than have me running off on this annoying little goose chase.”

“I have to keep you on your toes somehow, Cyn,” Brian replied to cover up his own amazement.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Boss. Anyway, I admit it did give me more perspective into our latest client. I hadn’t really thought to look that far back into Melton’s past. But this totally explains the other stuff you’ve been hinting about as well as giving us some more insight about how to tailor our campaign to get his approval.”

Cynthia pulled out a copy of some old magazine article from almost forty years earlier as she continued to explain what she was getting at.

“I found this in the Princeton school newspaper, of all places. It’s a short biography of Melton from when he was doing a short tenure teaching there.” She flipped to the middle of the article, where she’d highlighted several paragraphs. “It turns out Melton was a bit of a wunderkind and a budding inventor even before he left school. At the tender age of eighteen, he got hired by the fledgling Eveready Battery Company in The United States, and worked with none other than Lewis Urry, who’s team invented the first alkaline battery in 1957. Melton, it seems, was instrumental in helping with that discovery. He claims,” she pointed out the paragraph, “he was inspired by a toy flashlight - he calls it an electric torch - given to him by a visiting American during the war. He’d been distraught when the toy’s battery had eventually died and he’d spent the next fifteen years of his life trying to make another one like it. Cute story, huh?”

Brian laughed as he read quickly through the article. He couldn’t believe that little Harry had come so far. And to think that Brian’s gift, offered for the sole purpose of keeping a child’s fears at bay, had inspired the eventual invention of the battery that made the very same flashlight possible. That was . . . A bit weird. He’d have to think about that more later.

Cynthia was already going on about Melton. “. . . so it’s no wonder he’s such a big WWII buff. That was a good call on your part to try and impress him with the vintage money and War ID and stuff. But what about if we rework part of the Britcom advertising campaign to take advantage of how popular WWII stuff is with the general population these days. See, if we just made these small changes . . .”

Brian was impressed by the ideas Cynthia had to work the WWII angle into their ads. He had a hunch Melton would like them too. And it would certainly spice up their campaign. They spent the rest of the afternoon working on the changes and tweaking the idea till Brian was satisfied. The end result was brilliant even if Brian did say so himself.

So, maybe, his dalliance back in the past was actually going to pay off big time after all? It wasn’t just a fun diversion and an amusing sexual lark with his favorite RAF pilot. It was going to help him with his real life work too. That’s what Brian called killing two birds - or two decades - with one stone.

Brian walked into the White Lion and nodded congenially to everyone.

He was becoming pretty well known in the pub these days. Which was probably because he seemed to be here just about every night. It wasn’t his fault that 1941 London seemed a lot more exciting than 2016 London. He’d already done 2016 to the max - yes, it was wild and decadent in a way that Justin’s London wasn’t, but when decadence became the norm, it seemed like the more covert pleasures of the past became all that more enticing. So here Brian was again, night after night, sneaking back to the past to woo his blond pilot boy and teach him more of the lusty pleasures of the future.

“What can I get yer, ‘Andsome?” Daphne asked as always as soon as she’d seen him.

“How about a hot little blond with a plump backside to start with?” Brian teased, giving Daphne a wink.

“I fink I might know the perfect bloke for yer,” Daphne grinned as she pointed to a group of men in the corner. “‘E’s ova there at the table in the back; ‘is name’s Chappy.”

Brian rolled his eyes as Daphne continued to laugh at her own joke. He could see why Justin liked her so much. Nothing seemed to faze her or dampen her sense of humor.

“Haha! Very funny, Miss Chanders. Nicely played. I think you know that I have only one backside in mind for what I have planned. Any idea where he is?”

Daphne pointed to the little trap door behind her that led downstairs. “‘E’s down in the cellar, helpin’ put the delivery away.”

“Is his . . .”

“An’ bef’re yer say anythin’, I told ‘im not to, what wiv ‘is bad shoulder an’ all.”

That sounded like Justin, the stubborn little shit.

“Mind if I go give him a hand?”

“Be my guest. Jes be mighty careful as yer go down them stairs.”

Brian nodded and made his way carefully down the rickety stairs that led to the cool, dark cellar. Which is where he found Justin, with his sleeves rolled up, huffing and puffing as he rolled the barrels into place. Justin was unaware of his presence, so Brian took the opportunity to just watch him. He was fucking beautiful.

“Mmm, just what I like to see, a man hard at work . . . All nice and sweaty . . . Need any help, Blue Eyes?”

Justin jumped at the sound of Brian’s voice in the echoey basement. “Applesauce! Brian, you scared me.”

“Sorry about that,” Brian said, coming up behind the blond and familiarly patting the plump rear that he’d been looking for.

“No you’re not,” Justin chuckled as he turned around to face Brian.

His Blue Eyes knew him well. “You’re right. I’m not sorry at all,” he smirked. “But, my offer to help was completely genuine,”

“Lucky timing for you - I’ve just finished,” the blond told him, dusting his hands off on the back of his trousers. “Looks like we'll have to find something else to amuse ourselves with. Got any ideas?”

Brian licked his lips and leaned in, breathing in the delicious aroma of his boy, before he kissed the hell out of those pouty red lips. “Come back to my room.”

“Yeah?” Justin breathed heavily from the kiss.

“Yeah. School is officially back in session, Little Boy. And you’re going to love the lesson plan I have for tonight.”

“I see . . . well, let’s get going. I wouldn’t want to keep the teacher waiting . . . Sir.”

Brian was already hard as a fucking rock, but hearing Justin utter those words into his ear made his dick literally ache. The things his Blue Eyes could do to him . . . If Brian  didn’t get this naughty little school boy back to his hotel room soon, he was pretty sure he’d embarrass himself, that’s for sure.

“Upstairs. Now!” Brian ordered, eliciting a huge grin from his willing student.

“Yes, Sir!”

Brian chased the young man up the rickety stairs, only just barely avoiding braining himself on the low ceiling as he crawled through the hatchway at the top. Justin paused long enough to help him up to his feet and then they were running hand in hand through the main room of the bar. They’d almost made it out, too, when somebody called out ‘Sunshine’ and the boy spun around to look at whomever was calling him.

“Don’t forget ‘bout Saturday, Sunshine. You an’ ‘Andsome will make quite the pair,” Lucky hollered.

Justin waved without comment and then turned back to Brian, who ushered him out of the building. “So, what’s happening on Saturday?” he asked as they made their way down the street in the direction of The Strand.

“Oh, it’s just this party that Lucky wants us to go to with him. He’s taking Curly - it’s their first date - and he wants us to double with them. I told him I’d ask you, but if you don’t want to go, it’s no big deal.”

Brian snorted at the idea of HIM going on a fucking double date with anyone. If his best friend, Mikey, ever heard about THAT, he’d be laughed off Liberty Avenue. It was bad enough that Brian was actually ‘dating’ anyone, let alone that he was almost de facto monogamous with the little pilot these days. Not that he’d minded much, seeing as he’d been spending every single evening here in 1941 teaching the young man all the decadent pastimes he could come up with. It had kept Brian more than occupied and more than satisfied, if he were being honest with himself. But a fucking double date?

“The party sounds pretty sketchy to start with,” Justin was still prattling on, his voice hushed as if he were about to convey something top secret. “It’s a QUEER party.” That earned a laugh from Brian, which was followed by a backhand to his midsection from a peeved Justin. “Don’t laugh. I’ve never been to a party like that before. It sounds . . . dissolute.” Brian just shook his head, thinking back over the last orgy he’d been to and how Justin would see THAT. “Anyway, I doubt you’d be interested. It’s supposed to be a Ball to celebrate the King’s Anniversary. It’s at this private club over in Mayfair and we’re all supposed to dress up. And it’s a lock-in so, once we’re in, we can’t leave till morning. I told him I didn’t think you’d want to go, but he made me promise to ask you.”

Brian heard the wistfulness in the kid’s voice as he explained, and it did something weird to the Stud’s gut. “Blue Eyes, if you want to go to this party, we’ll go,” he heard himself saying, surprisingly. “It could be fun. Besides, every gay boy should go to a ‘queer party’ at least once in his life, and we’ll count it towards your sexual education credits.”

“Seriously?” Justin looked up at him, the suppressed excitement now bubbling up to the surface.

“Seriously. Hell, it could actually be interesting.”

“Okay. Only . . . that’s only two days away and I have to fly a long bombing mission tomorrow night to . . .” He caught himself before he gave away anything confidential, looking up at Brian with an apologetic half-smile. “I have to fly tomorrow night, so I won’t have time to get myself anything to wear. I guess I’ll be going in my uniform again.”

“You leave the costumes up to me, Blue Eyes. I’ll make sure you’re the Belle of the Ball,” Brian promised.

Justin looked worriedly up at him, but didn’t have time to comment as they’d already arrived at The Palace and were being greeted by the Porter who held the door open for them with an obsequious bow. Brian flipped the man a shilling and then gestured for Justin to precede him before following. Brian figured it was only good sense to keep all the hotel staff well tipped and on his side seeing as he WAS spending all that time with his young man . . . Something which was officially frowned upon in this day and age. He tipped the elevator operator the same as the man ferried them up to the fourth floor and held the door for them while they exited. Then, finally, they were at Brian’s room and it was time to begin the lesson he had planned for his boy.

“So,” Brian cleared his throat as he began unbuttoning his shirt and tugged it free from his already unbuttoned slacks. “Are you hungry?”

Justin shook his head. “No. Daphne made me a Spam sandwich Back at the pub.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Brian sighed dramatically. “I guess you won't want to try any of this then,” he smirked, waving a bottle of chocolate syrup in front of Justin’s face.

“Are we eating dessert?” Justin asked, looking rather confused as he squinted at the label on the oddly shaped brown bottle that showed a picture of a bowl full of ice cream. “I’m still full, but I always save room for dessert,” he smiled. “Did you order some cake or something?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t order us any cake,” Brian told him as he put the bottle of syrup down and pulled his undershirt off. “But we ARE eating dessert,” he grinned, bending down to yank his boxers off and giving his semi hard cock a quick stroke.

Justin gulped loudly as he watched Brian’s hand working himself to full mast. “Oh, okay . . . what are we having?”

“You’ll see.”

Justin watched intently as Brian pulled the plastic tab off of the bottle with his teeth and licked up some of the syrup that had escaped around the rim of the bottle.

“You’re way overdressed, Blue Eyes.”

Justin’s eyes remained focused on Brian as he undressed quietly, throwing his clothes carelessly behind him, eager to see what lesson Brian had in store for him tonight.

Brian sat down on the end of the bed and beckoned Justin to join him, pointing to the floor in the space between his spread legs. Justin knelt where indicated and turned his face expectantly up to his teacher.

“Hey,” Brian breathed. “You okay?” he asked, as he ran his hands down Justin’s arms.

Resting his hands on Brian’s knees, Justin nodded his head.

“Are you ready to learn all about the art of foreplay?” Brian grinned cheekily at the man in between his legs as he squirted a little of the chocolate syrup into his mouth. “Want some?”

Justin nodded and opened his mouth, as if he was expecting Brian to squirt some of whatever was in the bottle into his own mouth.

“Come, here.”

Brian pulled Justin up onto his knees and ran his chocolate covered tongue over the young man’s lips, watching in awe as Justin’s tongue peeked out, sampled the gooey chocolate syrup and then darted back in. The kid must have liked what he tasted as his blond-fringed eyelids immediately fluttered shut and his lips turned up in a happy smile.

“Mmm,” the boy hummed, even as Brian’s tongue invaded his mouth, swirling the chocolatey goodness all around.

They spent the next few moments tasting each other, sharing more chocolatey kisses. They nipped at each other’s lips needily and pulled each other’s bodies as close as they could. It felt like they both needed the contact almost as much, if not more, than they needed to breathe.

Eventually, Brian pulled away and took in the beautiful, panting man, who was still kneeling in front of him. He'd have to slow down if he wanted Justin to last. He could already feel the little minx rutting against his leg as he tried desperately to relieve some of the building pressure.

“That was . . .” Justin mumbled, his brain still a big, goopy mess from their kiss.

“Hot,” Brian finished for him as he, too, tried to catch his breath.

Justin laughed softly. “You can say that again.”

“It was hot.”

Justin shook his head at the incorrigible man in front of him.

“But that was just a taster,” Brian explained sexily, as he reached for the bottle once more and squirted more of the liquidy chocolate goodness onto his chest.

Justin’s eyes followed as the syrup ran down Brian’s body. Brian raised his eyebrows and watched as Justin just sat there with his tongue poking out between his lips. So Brian decided to help the boy out and placed his hands on the back of the blond’s head, pulling his face gently towards his body.

“Open your mouth,” he all but groaned. “Lick it off me.”

Allowing himself to be pushed forward, Justin delicately stuck out his tongue and lapped up some of the chocolate that had dribbled down the center of Brian’s chest, nibbling along as he went.

Justin seemed to only be licking where there was chocolate, so Brian took the bottle and covered both of his nipples, enticing that expert little tongue to venture further afield. He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as Justin’s mouth finally closed hotly around one sensitive nub. At first the boy’s tongue was soft and gentle, but it became rougher and more demanding as his confidence grew.

“You’re so good at this, Blue Eyes,” Brian groaned loudly as he tugged playfully at the blond hair.

Justin’s mouth moved from one nipple to the other, licking and slurping away to his heart's content.

“Use your . . . use your teeth . . . and bite me . . . gently,” Brian all but begged, as he held Justin’s mouth tightly to his chest.

He cringed a little inside when he heard how desperate he sounded, but by that point Brian didn’t give a fuck. He knew what he needed and he asked for it. Justin obediently did as directed, pulling a guttural groan of pleasure out of his man. Brian couldn’t help himself as he reached a hand down and stroked his cock. Fuck. He was hard and leaking like a fucking fire hydrant.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled Justin off of his chest and smashed their mouths together in a searing kiss. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of this kid’s mouth. And he knew precisely where he wanted it next. He fumbled behind him for the bottle of syrup and pulled their mouths apart with a slurp, then poured a generous amount of the cool, chocolatey goodness over his throbbing dick.

Justin watched, his blue eyes growing bigger as Brian rubbed his hand up and down his cock, coating it liberally with the delightfully sweet and sticky treat.

With one hand on the base of his dick, Brian used the other to guide Justin’s mouth to where he wanted it most. He started by teasing the boy’s swollen lips, covering them in chocolate and pre cum, and watching in delight as Justin licked them clean.

“What do you want to do now, Blue Eyes?”

“I . . .” His cheeks flushed a deep red. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Open up,” Brian smiled down at him, the desire in Justin’s eyes urging him on.

As Justin took him into his mouth, Brian’s head lolled back and he couldn’t stop his hips, which automatically rocked forward towards his lover’s mouth. That velvety tongue felt so good as it teased his slit then ran up and down the length of his shaft, ensuring no chocolate was left behind. It wasn’t long before Justin opened his mouth and started to swallow around him. Fuck! Brian felt like he was going to explode with the way Justin’s tongue massaged the bottom of his dick. That, combined with how the kid hollowed out his cheeks and more or less sucked the life out of him, left Brain panting. Before he knew it, he was rocking his hips, fucking Justin’s mouth nice and slow.

“Fuck,” Brian twisted the bed sheet tightly in his hands as he watched drool pool around the corners of Justin’s mouth while the boy continued working him to completion.

The blond head bobbed in his lap and Brian could feel the boy’s throat start to relax as he took him deeper with each swallow. Brian couldn’t help but smile down at his Blue Eyes, tugging the blond hair affectionately as he began to pump his hips faster. Another minute and his breathing became even more ragged and he could no longer hold back the moan he’d been trying to squelch.

“You can touch yourself, Justin. I don’t mind,” he offered when he noticed the young man’s hardness pressing against his calf and dribbling beads of cum.

Their eyes met, and as Justin started to rock himself against Brian’s leg, he groaned loudly, sending vibrations through Brian’s dick and shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body.

Justin’s eyes squeezed shut as he rutted harder against Brian. The well-pleased Stud hummed in pleasure, watching as his boy reach a hand down to help himself along. Brian’s eyes flickered back and forth between watching as his dick continue to disappear inside the hottest mouth he’d ever seen and the sight of Justin’s hand pulling roughly at his own dick, desperate for release. Long before he was ready for the ecstasy to end, Brian’s body started to clench and quiver and he could feel his balls beginning to tingle as he neared the point of no return.

“Justin . . . I’m . . . I’m gonna . . .”

Brian tried desperately to warn the younger man, but Justin merely looked up at him from under his long lashes and carried on - one hand fondling his balls as he rubbed against Brian’s leg and the other expertly pumping Brian’s throbbing cock. Brian’s hips moved erratically as his overpowering orgasm ripped through him. His back bowed and his stomach tightened and then he was shooting his load into Justin’s waiting mouth.

It was only after he’d finished coming, the last spasm of his orgasm finally easing, that Brian realised his leg was dripping wet from his little Tyro’s own release.

Justin pulled off him with a pop and wiped his mouth on his arm. “So, how did I do . . . Sir?”

Brian growled as he pulled the boy up and into his arms, both of them utterly covered in spit, cum and dried up chocolate. “Oh, you most definitely get an A, young man. Maybe an A+ even.”

Justin smiled happily as he curled up in the circle of Brian’s arms and allowed the older man to hold him while they both slowly drifted back to reality.