Lars

"After what?" Lars asked but, notably, he pulled into the car park and found a quiet spot where we were half hidden from the road.

"After this," I said as I undid our seat belts and fished around in his fly for his prick. Just as I expected, he was already pretty hard and, when I lent across and took him in my mouth, he just let the seat back a notch or two, laid back and let me get on with it.

In truth we were probably totally safe but it felt as if we were doing it right out in public. That just magnified the thrill and I know that Lars felt so as well because, in no time, I could feel him starting to come. I lifted my head up and said "OK, shall we go to the restaurant then?"

Lars didn't say a word; he didn't need to. He just grabbed the back of my head and pushed it back down. That was, of course, exactly what I wanted. I may have started it but now he was in control. I was no longer giving him a blow job, he was fucking my face. I guess his concerns about safe sex had gone out of the window because he didn't hesitate one moment but, when the time came, he pumped his spunk, every single drop of it, deep, deep, into my throat.

I waited until things had died down a little before tidying him away, doing his fly back up and sitting up again.

"Thank you, Lars," I said as I sat back up again.

He gave me a look. I could see him wondering why I was thanking him for me giving him a blow job but then he worked it out and just smiled.

"OK, now we have indulged your need to have sex in public, will you behave from now on?" he asked, laughing. "Will you be able to control yourself?"

"I'll try."

"You'll do better than try. If you can't behave I'll have to put you over my knee and give you a damn good spanking."

There was this massive silence as I just managed to resist saying 'yes, please'.

"Just behave yourself, OK?" he said at last.

"Yes, sir!"

"Cheeky thing," he said but he was smiling as he did so. He started the car and pulled away.

The restaurant, when we got there, was quite a posh place, definitely not pub grub. We were shown to a quiet corner and, for the time being, I behaved. Lars really was very special to be with. He and I could talk and talk and talk and he made me feel wanted, listened to, appreciated. When, with the meal over, we were sipping our coffees he moved closer to me and put his hand on my knee and that was just perfect. The evening seemed to just slip away and it was quite late by the time we paid the bill and left. We walked out into the car park and, when he held the car door open for me, I stopped and kissed him.

"Lars," I said, "thank you, thank you for everything."

"Maybe I should thank you," he replied.

"But you've been so generous and you've looked after me so well. No one has ever treated me the way you do."

"I can assure you that the pleasure has been all mine. Now get in the car. The night isn't over yet."

We drove back to the hotel and went straight up to his room. While he played with the lights and phoned down to order up a bottle of champagne I excused myself and headed for the bathroom but, on the way, I had to go through the bedroom area where I made a quick detour to his bedside cabinet. There I found the tube of lubricant which I took with me as I went into the bathroom. I stripped off my clothes and, sitting on the toilet, got myself ready for him. I was pretty generous with the lubricant as, when the time came, I wanted to be as ready for him as possible. With this done I washed my hands, put on a dressing gown and went back into the room.

I guess I must have taken longer than I thought because, as I emerged from the en-suite, Lars was busy tipping the waitress who had brought up the champagne. I slipped the lubricant back in the bedside draw and came up to him as he opened the bottle.

"You don't waste time, do you?" Lars joked as he poured two glasses of bubbly. "We've only been back five minutes and you've got your clothes off."

"I don't know what you mean," I joked back as I took the glass from him. I took a sip and batted my eyelashes at him. "I just wanted to get more comfortable."

"Did you, indeed?" He reached down with his free hand and tugged open the belt of my dressing gown so that it fell open. My prick, already half erect, flopped out.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked, striking a pose.

"Very pretty, you are a very pretty boy, but you already know that," Lars replied. He reached out for me but I turned away.

"Not so fast, sir! Did you think my charms were just there for the taking? What sort of boy do you think I am?"

"A very cheeky little devil, that's the sort you are," Lars replied. "A cheeky little devil who likes to tease."

"Oh, sir, you do me wrong! If I have misled you with my girlish affectations...," I looked away coyly, playing the part to the hilt.

"Girlish affectations! You're a tease, a naughty little tease and I've a good mind to put you over my knee and spank you."

"You'll have to catch me first," I said, dodging behind the sofa.

Lars, grinning from ear to ear, put down his drink. Still keeping my eyes on his every move, I reached behind me and put mine down as well. He feinted left but I saw right through that and wasn't going to be caught that easily and I managed to keep the sofa between us. All pretence at coquettishness had gone. I had played for a spanking and we both knew that, once he had caught me, that was what I was going to get.

For a while we jinked about the room but, as was my plan all along, there was only going to be one outcome. He was too fast and, when he caught me, too strong. He bundled me up and, kicking and screaming, well, mostly kicking, dragged me over to the bed where he sat down and, twisting my arm behind my back, pulled me across his knees. I played at fighting him off but not too seriously and, anyway, he was far too strong for that to work. Without any ceremony, he pulled my dressing gown aside and the smacks rained down, alternating between my buttocks. He smacked quite hard, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt and the fizz it sent through me was glorious. I, of course, was still playing along as the naughty flirt and kicking and struggling. However, he had me pinned down and I was going nowhere. There was all sorts of symbolism going on but I didn't care, I was loving every minute of it.

At last he was finished, well, finished with the smacking part, anyway. Still holding my arm behind my back, he pulled me off his lap, stood up and threw me onto the bed. As I lay on my back I had a great big grin on my face. I knew I should be acting contrite after the smacking but I simply couldn't manage that. He grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer and got up on the bed to kneel between my outstretched legs. He undid his trousers and pushed them down to his knees and it was no surprise at all that he was hard and strong. Still without speaking, he fitted the condom and then he lifted up my legs so that my ankles rested on his shoulders. He leant forward so that his weight was forcing me into the bed and I could feel his prick pushing at my bum hole.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" He looked down at me and his eyes bored into mine. I didn't say anything. There was something about the way that I was naked and he was still mostly dressed that got to me, that emphasised the difference between us and, smacked bottom or not, there was still a spark of rebellion left in me.

"Tell me boy, tell me what you want."

I shook my head. I could feel the tip of his prick pushing at my entrance. If only he would push a little harder, just a little more. Couldn't he tell that I had made myself ready for him, that I would welcome him inside me?

"Tell me boy," he repeated. "Tell me! Now!"

That was a voice I had to obey. The naughty boy was being tamed.

"Please, Lars, please fuck me," I said softly. He pushed a little harder but still didn't break through.

"Louder, boy, louder," he ordered.

"Please, fuck me, Lars, fuck me please," I repeated.

"Like this, maybe?" He pushed again and, this time, nearly broke through.

"Please, Lars, please," I was getting desperate.

He pushed again and this time he didn't stop until was inside me, maybe two or three inches deep.

"Oh, god, yes!" I all but shouted.

But he just stopped and just rested there, grinning at me. I realised that, when it came to teasing, I was a rank beginner. I'd got what I wanted but I still wanted more, much more. I wanted all of it, right inside me. I wanted to feel his thighs against my battered buttocks, I wanted to feel him push as deep as he could. I wanted all of him. I was wriggling away, trying to impale myself on him but he was ultimately in control and we both knew it.

"Please, Lars, please, fuck me, fuck me hard," I begged.

"Like this?" he asked as he pushed in another inch or so only to withdraw again.

"Oh, please, more, more!"

"Ask nicely."

"Please, Lars, please fuck your boy. I need to feel you deep inside me."

He rocked forward and, this time, I got what I wished for. With one smooth push he was deep inside me. I was still a bit new to anal sex and this position allowed him to go deeper than the previous time but, for all that I was stretched to the limit, it was glorious. With a slow rocking motion he started to slide back and forth within me. Each push took me to the limit of what I could take but I wanted, more than anything, to take it to that limit. And, as he opened me up, it became easier.

"Harder, please, harder," I urged, although there was precious little more he could give me. I just wanted to take it all, every inch of him, to be possessed by him, to be his boy.

"Tage det hele, dreng," he said, and, although I didn't understand a word it was easy to know what he meant and, as the long strokes were turning to shorter, powerful thrusts, I could feel the tension rising within him.

"Oh, Lars, oh, yes!" I called out. "That feels so good! Fuck me, fuck me, fuuuuuccckkk..."

"Ja! Ja! Ja!" he cried as, almost crushing me beneath him, he pumped his load into me.

And then it was all over. For a while we stayed in position and I could feel Lars slowly relaxing with me. Then, when he was no longer hard enough to stay inside, he eased himself out of me and gently lowered my ankles from his shoulders. He gave me a brief kiss before getting off the bed, taking off his clothes and lying back down beside me so that we could cuddle together.

"Are you OK?" he asked after a while. "I was not too rough?"

"No, no, you were fine. I'm a bit sore," I admitted, "but that's what I wanted. I like it when you're rough. I like the Viking as well as the gentleman."

"The Viking?" he queried.

"Yes, my Viking," I replied, snuggling up to him. "You're my Viking."

"OK, but I don't want to hurt you. You've become rather special to me."

I just snuggled a little closer.

"Now, what about you," Lars continued. "I think it's time we sorted you out."

He reached down and grasped my prick. It had never really been soft all evening and, as soon as he touched it, I was hard again. I could have come almost immediately, I was that ready. Lars, however, had different ideas and, once again, he showed that I was a mere beginner at teasing. He ordered me to lie still and let him do all the work. Time and again he took me to the limit until I was almost begging to be allowed to come.

"Please, Lars, this time," I pleaded as I felt my climax approaching.

"This time?"

"Please, oh, please, oh, pleeeeeee...." I all but exploded. I never knew my balls could hold so much or that I could shoot so far. Thick creamy spunk was all over me. My chest was covered and Lars had to use my dressing gown to keep it off the bed. Oh, bliss, oh total bliss.

For the second night in a row we were forced to end up having a quick shower.

And then, clean and dry again, it was back to bed to kiss and cuddle and share. It was getting late but we couldn't stop wanting to touch each other and, before we had finished, I had come twice more. At last, drained and exhausted, we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

In the morning Lars was a bit distant. Oh, he was just as much the gentleman as ever and it was fun having breakfast in bed with him but I could tell there was something on his mind. We had finished getting dressed and getting ready to leave when he came to me with a package.

"I think you must go back to your room to pack your suitcase," he said, "and, after that, I have my meeting and you have your training course. I do not wish to say goodbye but we must. I have grown a little fond of you but all things must come to an end. This package, it is a little something for you but do not open it until later, when you get back to Blackpool. Will you promise me that."

"I don't know if I can wait that long."

"Please, Andy, for me."

"OK, I promise," and I knew I meant it.

"Thank you, Andy. Thank you."

"Oh, Lars, thank you so much," I could feel myself tearing up. "I'm going to.... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, ever."

"Don't talk silly. Now, we must go. Enough. It is time for goodbye. Goodbye, Andy."

"Goodbye, Lars," and I kissed him one last time on the lips. Was I crying, well, maybe. Maybe I just had something in my eye but that didn't explain the feeling in my heart, the feeling that it was breaking. However, he was right, it was time to go.

It's a long drive back from Slough to Blackpool and it gave me time to think about all that had happened, all that had changed in me. I was going to have to re-assess several things in my life, just who I was and what I wanted. That was clear. I obeyed Lars order and didn't open the package until I got home. The first thing I saw was the box, the black box which, when opened, revealed the Tag Heuer. It was simply beautiful, the bestest ever. He had, once again, been far, far too generous and, this time, there was no way I could pay him back. And then I found the note. I opened it up and read:

Andy

We both knew from the start that the North Sea would come between us. I must return to Aarhus and you must return to Blackpool. But, in those few short days, I have found a place in my heart for you and, whatever happens, I will never forget you. You never were, and never shall be, a "notch on my bedpost".

So, wear this watch and, when you look at it, remember me and do so with fondness.

Forever yours,

Lars

I looked at the watch and now the tears really were streaming down. How could I ever forget him? I mean, you always remember your first, don't you?