David Begins Graduate Study Pt. 02

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David is seduced by a woman. The house is finished.
16.7k words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/03/2011
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[This part follows on directly from "David begins Graduate Study," which should be read first.]

Chapter 11 Jon

Celebrating David's first publication

The Candlemas term progressed. David, on the basis mainly of his undergraduate work, saw his name on his first scientific publication. It was shared of course with three other coworkers. He seemed excessively delighted at this and insisted on taking me out for a meal at the Carp at Stubbington at which we consumed a whole bottle of excellent Primitivo di Puglia and returned to the flat by taxi, which he insisted on paying for.

When we got in, David set the coffee machine going and then sat beside me on the sofa, his arm round my shoulders. With his other arm, he quickly and expertly removed my shirt and began to tweak my right nipple and twist the hair on it round his finger. He then started to nibble my left nipple and started to caress it with his tongue. I shivered with pleasure and relaxed in his strong arms. "I want you, Jon," he said, which was rather redundant because he was obviously dying for it. He undid my belt and unzipped my fly before pulling my trousers down. I then obliged him by removing my shoes and socks, and was left sitting in my underpants.

David stood, went to the kitchen and came back with two cups of black coffee. "There's no aphrodisiac more potent than coffee!" he said.

"I don't think that you need an aphrodisiac," I said, noting the enormous bulge in the front of his trousers. I reached forward, undid his belt and pulled his trousers down. He pulled his shirt off and started to undo and remove his shoes and socks. Clad only in his underpants, with a spreading moist patch on the front, he snuggled close up to me and resumed his attention to my nipples. He then started to move down my chest and belly, nibbling the hairs with his lips as he went. He chased my treasure trail down to the waistband of my underpants, and then stopped. I sat up, reached forward and pulled his briefs down to his ankles. His response was to do the same to me. We sat close together on the sofa and he resumed kissing my belly. When he reached my pubic hair, he suddenly sat up, put his arms round me tightly and began to kiss my face. Our mouths locked together as we each greedily explored the other's mouth. The sensation of his arms wrapped tightly round me made me almost melt in submission. He stretched out his legs behind me on the sofa, got hold of me under the armpits and turned me round to face him. I rose up onto my knees and lifted my left leg over him and raised myself so that I was above his king-sized dick.

I was about to lower myself onto his hard upward-pointing member when I remembered the lube. I kissed him and went into the bathroom and squeezed the gel onto my fingers and rubbed it on his rocky dick before applying some to my crack, perineum and arsehole. I resumed my position above and facing him, and he gently guided his cock into my hole. "Just stay still," he said "and I'll do all the work." I did as he said, holding firmly onto the back of the sofa as he lunged and thrust his manhood up and down in my rectum. Once or twice he hit my prostate and I nearly went crazy, and started to rub my dick, which up to that point had been limp and shook up and down with every thrust that my stud-boy gave.

The penetration did not last long. David's lust was so strong that there was no chance of him being able to prolong the fuck session. I will never forget the look of happiness and ecstasy on his sweet face when he came, and only then did I realize that we had forgotten the condom as his hot stream jetted inside me! I collapsed forward onto my arms, pulling my arsehole off his dick. Then I gently lowered myself on top of him and began to kiss him and to rub my now hard tool against his sweaty belly. The scent of his perspiration was intoxicating. He kissed me and wrapped his arms gently around me as I rubbed my dick harder and faster against his belly, until I shot my load across his chest and even splashed a little on his chin and face. I lay there in the sticky mess, inhaling the chestnut-flower scent of my jism. "We're going to need a lot of tissue!" I said, before starting to kiss him again. David just grunted and smiled with contentment.

After ten minutes or so in each other's arms, I slipped off the sofa and got a pack of tissues from the table. I mopped up David's belly and chest. "I'll get a wash-flannel from the bathroom," I said. I went into the bathroom with a bunch of tissues in my hand. I stood still in the bathroom, bent forward slightly, holding the tissues ready, and farted. A stream of man-juice began to trickle out of my rear end and run down my leg. I wiped it up with the tissues as fast as I could, and collected two flannels from the washbasin and took them into the living room. I carefully wiped my jism off my lover's chest and belly and kissed him. Before using a flannel on myself, I waited until I had farted again, and this time only a small trickle of David's spunk leaked out. I mopped it up from inside my legs with the tissue and then cleaned myself up with the damp flannel. "My coffee has got cold!" I exclaimed. "I'll go and heat it up in the microwave. Shall I do yours?"

"Yes, please," he said. Now reasonably clean, we still snuggled up close while drinking our coffee, and between mouthfuls exchanged kisses.

"It was a mistake not to use a condom," I said "I hope that I have now farted out all your fuck-juice. If not, then there'll be a mess on the sheets tomorrow! But I must say thank you for that fuck. I'm getting to really enjoy being buggered. No wonder the men of Sodom in Rochester's play were quite happy without cunt sex. King Bolloximian set the example with his catamite Pockenello:

"'Pockenello for a mate I'll choose.

His arse shall for a minute be my spouse.'

"I've got a copy of the play in my porn library. I got hold of it in Paris. It's been banned in England for 200 years. You should read it. It's very crude, but quite entertaining."

When we had finished coffee, we did not bother to get dressed, but showered and then adjourned to the bedroom. Naked as he was, David knelt down and said his prayers while I got into bed. David lay beside me, a happy smile on his face. "It's been a very good day!" he said. "I'm now beginning to believe that I do have a real possibility of a scientific career in front of me. How about you Jon? Do you see yourself as a scientist for the rest of your career?"

"Yes, I do," I said. "What I would ultimately like to achieve is a college fellowship either at St Boniface's or at another college. Whether I shall manage that or not of course is another question. While I will have to continue research to have any academic credibility, there are so many other things that I want to do that I think I am going to have great difficulty in fitting them all in."

"What are they then?" asked David.

"I'm going to need time to adequately supervise the work of the two trusts, for Afforestation and Drystone walling, and also I want to see how I can help you in your development as a singer. Moreover I think it would be nice if in say about 10 years time, we could start a family, either by adoption or by surrogate motherhood with a suitably accommodating lady. Unless of course," I continued, "you could find a woman whom you loved who would be prepared to share you with me. That would be the ideal solution: a ménage à trois, with your bride and me taking it in turns to sleep with you."

A look of amazement and alarm appeared on David's face. "Whatever makes you think that I might fall in love with a woman?" he asked. "I really can't see that happening. I wouldn't have the faintest clue about fucking a woman. In spite of perfumes, I don't think that women smell very nice. But you smell delicious, even when you are dripping with sweat after a day on the building site. I don't think I ever told you how alluring I found your scent when you arrived back in Camford on a Friday night after a day's hard labour pushing wheelbarrows."

"You wouldn't have any difficulty at all fucking a woman," I said. "If she wanted you enough, she would tell you what to do." Within a couple of months I was to be proved right.

"That's rubbish," he replied "Women never tell you what to do. They just assume that as a man you know what to do. But it's not just a question of poking your prick into their cunt, is it? Every woman who gets married expects that her man will please her and it is only fair that she should get as much pleasure out of being fucked as you do in doing the fucking. Men instinctively know how to make love to other men, because they know what men like. To make love successfully to a woman, you need to be educated about what turns a woman on. Successful marriage is as much about sexual satisfaction as it is about begetting and bringing up children."

"You could satisfy her in the same way that you can satisfy me," I said. "All you need is some lube and the girl bent over the bed."

"But that would not produce any offspring," David said, "even if she enjoyed getting it up the shithole! Besides," he added, "I could never talk to a woman the way I talk to you. Just imagine me asking my wife to let me shag her up the shithole! That's what broke up Lord Byron's marriage. He wanted anal sex and his wife Annabella didn't, so they split up after only one year. I enjoy your hole so much that I can't imagine being married to a woman who only wanted it up her cunt. Besides, as many men must have found over the years, buggery gives a man something to do when Aunt Rosie is visiting. But at the same time, I wouldn't want to be married to a crude woman. It's the old, old story of one rule for men and another for women. Men want a woman with the looks and manners of an angel in public, but who has the manners of a whore in bed, and that is not possible. No, my mate, you have nothing to fear from female competition for my prick! Besides, a woman who loved me would not want you fucking me. The other point is that I just want to be yours. I don't want you to share me with someone else, even the mother of a child of mine.

"But it's getting late, and I have a lot to do in the lab tomorrow. Let's go to sleep." He took me in his arms and kissed me, and soon we were both asleep.

Chapter 12 David

Visiting Jon's mother in Nice

By now the end of term and the Easter vacation were approaching, although our work in our respective labs continued. As usual we were going to spend Easter with Jon's mother in Nice, and as usual we were expecting that she would do something irksome, guaranteed to make our stay on the Riviera a disappointment. The previous year she had organized a party in Jon's honour to celebrate his success in his doctoral exam, at which the evening ended in dancing, which she knew that we both hated. Her circle of friends did not seem to include many British residents, so for me there was always a language problem, as my schoolboy French was not up to a proper conversation.

Jon telephoned her to announce our arrival and she asked us to come round for tea. When we arrived, she was sitting as usual on her terrace with a young man who stood up as we approached. "May I introduce Antoine?" she said. "He's my new boyfriend." A faint blush appeared on Antoine's face as she said this. I tried to conceal a grin, but I'm sure that Antoine saw it.

Jon made no attempt to conceal a grin, he beamed cheerfully at Antoine and shook his proffered hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Antoine," he said. "This is my boyfriend David."

I smiled and shook Antoine's hand. "Pleased to meet you," I said.

"I am very 'appy to meet you both," he said with a heavy French accent. He was about Jon's age or slightly older, I thought. He was very handsome, dark-haired, slim and smartly dressed. But then, I knew that my 'mother-in-law' would not look at any scruffily dressed young men.

"Shall I go and get the tea, mother?" asked Jon.

"Yes, please!" she said. "David is Jon's nancy-boy," she told Antoine. "'E is very 'andsome" said Antoine with a grin, and it was my turn to blush. Jon reappeared carrying a tray, which he placed on the table and went back to the kitchen to fetch another one. I rearranged the chairs and as Jon returned, we all sat down.

"So, what do you do for a living, Antoine?" Jon asked. I could tell from the fact that Jon spoke in English to him that he did not find Antoine likeable. If Jon had thought he was a nice man, he would have gone to the trouble of speaking in French.

"I am an engineer." That sounds unconvincing, I thought. I felt a hand on mine under the table. I looked up and caught Antoine's eye. He smiled at me appraisingly. It was his hand that was touching mine. I pulled my hand away and put it on the table. This guy is after me, I thought.

I wondered how Jon's mother was going to handle the tea party. Was she going to say or do something outrageous? She began to pour out the tea. There was no milk of course. "So, Jon, now you're a Doctor of Philosophy," she said, "and doing postdoctoral research. What will you do when you've finished?"

"I get fed up of being asked that question," said Jon "I want to find a solution to the problem that I am working on at present. It's an important problem and a difficult one, and I enjoy the challenge of finding out something new. I'm not in the business to make money but to get results. So at present, I have no fixed plan, I just want to get myself recognized as a scientist. My ultimate aim is to get a college fellowship."

"Don't you think that a daily, one-to-one exposure to the company of young men would be bad for your relationship with David?"

"There are young women, as well as young men in Camford now, Mother," he said "and the University has very strict rules about improper relationships in the tutorial system. Besides, not all gays are promiscuous."

"I thought that the three of you might like to go for a swim," Mrs Singleton said, "and I've asked the next-door neighbours if you can use their pool, and they have agreed. I realize that you may not have your swimming trunks with you, but the pool is quite private and the neighbours don't mind if you swim naked."

"I suppose that you would be watching us," said Jon.

"Yes, of course," his mother replied.

The eyes of Antoine (whose understanding of English was obviously pretty good in spite of his accent) lit up at the suggestion, and I was not myself particularly averse to the idea. However Jon reacted immediately and very indignantly. He said, "I do not think that that would be at all a good idea. The water at this time of the year in the open air would be extremely cold and I have no desire to spend half an hour with chattering teeth in cold water." Antoine looked a bit disappointed at this, but the conversation soon passed on to other matters.

It was agreed that we would meet Jon's mother and Antoine at 8 pm for dinner at another hotel in the town, not the one we were staying at. We left about 6 o'clock to return to our hotel to get ready. "I know that guy fancies me," I said, "but I'm surprised at the way that you reacted to your mother's suggestion of nude bathing."

"That's because you don't know her, "he said. Remember what happened the first time that you met her, and her outrageous suggestion that you went to bed with her. Now that she's got Antoine into her bed, she has to get her prurient delight in other ways. Besides, I bet he would love to see you naked. I don't see why we should gratify either of their kinky urges. I don't want them staring at your lovely big tool!"

"I think that you are being unreasonably possessive," I said.

"Do you want to flaunt your big cock in front of that lecherous, almost certainly money-grubbing French gigolo? I'm not going to give you permission to fuck him!"

"I think he probably wants to fuck me," I said.

"David, you're mine and I'm not going to let you accommodate him up your arsehole! If he were someone we both knew and liked, I might acquiesce, but I'm certain that guy is after money. I think you are having a bout of exhibitionism, which doesn't befit your religious faith!"

I had to admit that Jon was right. I had never thought very much about my male equipment until Jon started admiring it so much, but it would have been unreasonable to blame my vanity on his lust. I put my arms round him and kissed him hard on the lips. "Get your pants down and spread your legs," I said, "I feel like a bit of buggery!"

"You randy sod!" he replied, "OK, Sir, have your perverted way with me! Sate your foul unnatural lust on your poor helpless victim! Pour your evil fuck juice into my inmost being! Penetrate my most intimate hole with your merciless bayonet! I surrender myself to your base devices and desires!"

I started to giggle. Jon did as he had been told, and removed not just his lower garments, but his shirt as well. I pulled on one of my few remaining Dutch condoms and reached for the lube. I spread it on my fingers, applied it to Jon's arse crack and perineum and pushed first two, then three fingers into his secret hole.

"I'm just sending messengers to prepare the way," I said "before my sex weapon ends up your hole!"

"Pity your fingers aren't a bit longer," he said, "then you wouldn't need to use your tool!"

"And what satisfaction would I get out of that?" I said. "It would be like wanking a woman off. Sex is all about close contact between the much under-used lower half of two bodies. Men only resort to wanking when there is no alternative!"

Conversation then ceased as I concentrated on the job. I was a little rougher with Jon than I usually am, and not until I began to feel the spirituality of the experience did I slow down and think of his enjoyment. To my relief, his sweet face reflected contentment rather than discomfort, but I carried on at a more moderate pace, increasingly conscious of the quasi-sacramental aspect of fucking, until I eventually climaxed.

"Frot or suck?" I asked him.

"Suck me please, you evil beastly sodomite" he grinned. I removed the prophylactic from my cock and started to kiss his belly, moving down and nuzzling his pubic bush. His limp tool began to stiffen. I took it into my mouth and felt it steadily swelling. I rubbed my tongue against its lumpy, veiny surface and ran it round the channel at the base of his glans. I chewed it and sucked it, while he sighed with pleasure, before he started to move it in and out of my mouth. Suddenly with a sharp intake of breath he came and unloaded his man-juice into my greedy mouth...

The evening with Antoine and Mrs Singleton passed very well. Antoine tried to hold my hand again, but I remained obstinately unco-operative. The food and wine were excellent and we ended with coffee and liqueurs. Antoine suggested one or two things that we should see in Nice before we left, and did his best to be friendly, although I suspected that he thought we were rivals for Jon's mother's money, which was not the case. Her income was entirely her own to dispose of as she chose, Jon had been separately provided for by his father, but of course we did not mention this.

The next day after seeing a few sights, we ate in the 'gay parlour' as we called the back room of the restaurant that catered for the wealthy gays of Nice and their boyfriends. We went there each year to watch the local queens and the married men with their male 'bits on the side.' The food and wines were as good as usual and I got a lot of lustful stares, which I did NOT appreciate.

The following day we flew back to Bristol and drove in the new 4x4 vehicle that we had left in the car park at Lulsgate airport back to Camford, both ready to resume work in the lab.

Chapter 13 David