A gay story: Fucking Devon Pt. 01 The subject was introduced to me over dinner at Clarence’s place. His wife was a wonderful cook, we ate fresh asparagus from their garden and organic meat from the town’s fanciest butcher.
I’d been in town a month, Clarence was pretty much the only person I knew. We’d met many years earlier at university and stayed in touch. Old buddies.
“So what are you doing with yourself when you’re not writing?” He asked.
“I mean… I’m working out most days. 45 now, have to keep in shape. I do a little meditation. A little yoga. I’ve been hiking around here too. Its a really beautiful area.”
“Lot of spare time huh?”
“I prefer to call it thinking time.”
“Uh huh. I was wondering if you’d consider a little part time work.”
“Work?”
“Teaching. Our son. Devon. He’s 18 now. Set to study literature at Cambridge.”
“Fantastic!”
“Yes but… I figure he could use a little extra tuition. Exams are next year. I’m sure the teachers are very good. In their way. But you…. well I’d take it as a personal favour if you’d work with him. You’ve a phd. You’re a published poet. I know you could teach him a lot.”
Clarence refilled my wine glass as I pondered his suggestion. I could use a little variation from writing, it was true. And like any decent guy I dont want to let down a friend.
As I was pondering, the dining room door opened. Clarence and Rachel turned, beaming, as a coltish, raven haired slender boy of 18 entered the room. “Sorry dad…. did I leave my Coleridge in here?” the boy asked.
“Come in Devon! This is the man I was telling you about” said Clarence. Evidently this was Devon. He had his mother’s olive skin, and his father’s strong jawline. He wore a black vest and joggers. I spotted a copy of Coleridge’s collected works on the dresser next to me and picked it up.
“This must be yours?” I said. He stood opposite me. He was tall, almost my height. 5’11 maybe. He was fawnlike, with a wiry athleticism. Our eyes briefly met. They were big, doe like, hazel eyes. Innocent, but intelligent. I looked away quickly.
“Thank you….Mister….”
“This is Mr Dawson, Devon. The old friend I was telling you about,” said Clarence from across the table.
“Thank you Mister Dawson.”
“Its my pleasure.”
Devon tried to play it cool but I could see he was a shy boy, and he blushed slightly as he left the room.
Clarence turned to me and beamed. “So what do you think?”
“I think he’s a fine young man.”
“Will you take him on?”
“I’m a little undecided Clarence.”
“Whys that?”
Clarence and I went back a long way. We knew a lot about each other. But we didn’t see each other that often and didn’t know everything about each other. For example, Clarence didnt know that I was bisexual. I’d only dated women in college, but over the years I’d become more and more interested in men. Especially younger men. My marriage had collapsed after my wife had found me in bed with a 23 year old actor. She had been good enough to not announce this to the world. I had been on a few dates locally with a girl named Melanie, but as soon as I’d lain eyes on Devon I’d felt attracted to him. Accepting Clarence’s offer was dangerous. The boy would surely notice me checking him out, even if he didnt wear that vest to our lessons. It could become embarrassing.
There again, I was 45. Surely i could control myself. I was old enough to be mature and professional for a friend.
“Actually, yes why not? Of course I’ll tutor young Devon.”
“Splendid!”
We raised our glasses in a toast.
Devon came to my place a couple of days later. I had prepared a few short lectures and a reading list for him. And prepared the long table in my dining room, so that we wouldn’t have to sit too close together. But I couldn’t stop thinking of that moment when our eyes had briefly met. There had been a spark in there. An electric flicker of mutual attraction. But it wouldn’t do to keep pondering on it. Professionalism needed to be the order of the day.
He knocked so gently I almost didn’t hear him. I opened the door and greeted him. He replied with a meek smile. The poor lad was nervous. Despite having the body of a fine young man he was still a boy really. I was relieved that he hadn’t worn the vest and joggers. Instead he was dressed in his school uniform. Grey trousers, white shirt and purple and gold tie.
“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t have time after school to dress properly.”
“You look fine. I mean… its ok. And you don’t have to call me sir, you’re not in school now.”
“Yes sir… I mean…Mr Dawson.”
“You can call me James. Think of this as a chat between friends. Not a lesson. Its very casual.”
“This dining table isn’t very casual.”
“Ha, well there is a little formality. I’m here to help you after all. Take a seat.”
I tried not to stare as he glided across the room to his seat. A couple of nights ago he could have passed for a 21 year old college student. The school uniform made him seem a little younger than his 18 years. But the way the trousers clung to his calves and the way the shirt, its neck a little undone, revealing the skin below his neck, clung to his biceps again spoke to a fine male body.
I sat opposite him and smiled.
“So will this be like a college tutorial Mr Dawson?”
“I hope so. What do you know about college tutorials?”
“A conversation between the student and the mentor.”
“A fair summary.”
“I would say they perhaps owe their lineage to the teaching methods of ancient Greece.”
“Interesting! Why would you say that?”
“My understanding is that in Athens, it was common for young men of potential to be paired with an older mentor. And those relationships could be very intense.”
“Yes, that is very true.”
“In fact….”
“They could be intense in more than one way yes?”
Devon blushed and we shared a laugh. His embarrassment was adorable. “Yes. More than one way.”
“You’re right of course. The older man was known as the erastes and the younger the eromenos. But in the modern day this is an element not associated with university tutorials, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried. I just think its interesting that it has a lineage stretching back so far.”
“You’re quite right. We can learn a lot from the Greeks.”
We shared a smile and I launched into my short lecture on iambic pentameter as he dutifully made notes and laughed in the right places. I avoided his gaze and focused on the teaching. He asked good questions. He was a fabulous, intelligent young man. Despite avoiding our eyes meeting, I was enjoying his company immensely.
It was now getting late. 7pm. It was darkening outside.
I had given him Andrew Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress” to read. As he read, I looked out the window, watching the sun go down. I decided Id given him enough time to read the poem and pulled the curtains closed. As I did, I caught his reflection in the window. Young, beautiful, fresh, and looking straight at me.
I turned. Our eyes met for the first time since dinner with his parents. There was that spark again. I looked away.
“What are your thoughts on the poem?”
“I think mostly envy.” He replied.
“Envy?” I asked. I noticed his head had dropped. Suddenly, Devon seemed a little sad. “Are you ok?”
“Yes sir… I mean yes Mr Dawson.” He looked up. There was a tear in his beautiful eyes. He brushed it away and smiled. Our eyes met again as I returned the smile. I went to him, and put my hand on his back. His body was warm, and toned firm beneath his school shirt.
“Whats wrong?”
“It just must be so wonderful. To be wanted like that. The way Marvell wanted that woman.”
“Don’t you know you’re a very handsome young man Devon? When you get to Cambridge there’ll be so many beautiful women keen to meet you.”
“Ha. The trouble with that Mr Dawson is that I don’t like girls.” He turned and looked me deep in the eyes. Deep enough for me to begin losing myself in those innocent, intelligent eyes. Close enough to feel his breath on my skin.
“Have…. have you ever had a boyfriend?” I asked.
“Yes. He was a year older than me. I haven’t seen him since he went up to Oxford. My dad doesn’t know. I cant tell him I’m gay. He’s….”
“He’s old school huh?”
“Yes Mr Dawson.”
“I’m sorry. You must get lonely.”
“Sometimes. What about you Mr Dawson? Do you like women?”
My hand had slid from his back onto his shoulder. I could feel him tremble as he told me about his heartache. I chose my words carefully.
“I do. I like women very much…. but I also like boys.”
I took my other hand and placed it under his chin, lifting his head up. Then I moved forward and kissed his lips. They were hot and at first nervous. Devon was surprised by the kiss. But then his lips became hungry. My tongue slid into his mouth, meeting his tongue. I felt his teenage mouth hungry for mine as my stubble pushed against his smooth young skin.
I let my hand run down his flank, feeling his firm young torso, and slid it onto his ass, picking him up from his seat. He wrapped his arms around my head as we kissed firmly and i pushed him against the wall.
I pinched his ass cheeks and he smiled as we ground our bodies together. I felt his thick hard young cock erect and hot through his school trousers. Through my jeans my firm cock strained for his body and rubbed against his firm belly, then I picked him up a little more and felt our cocks slide together through the material of our clothes. He groaned. I sighed. The electricity we’d shared when our eyes met was now so much greater now that my 45 year old cock was sliding against his 18 year old cock.
I pulled him by his school tie then pushed him onto the ground and, on the carpet, began kissing his soft neck and undoing his belt. He groaned as I unzipped him and pulled his long teenage erection out of his school trousers. I started slowly jerking him off then lowered my head and let the tip of my tongue lick the tip of his cock, before letting my mouth gently cover the tip of him. I was sucking on Devon’s delicious teen cock when the door knocked again.
I looked up at the clock. Then at Devon’s beautiful, delirious face. It was 19.30. Clarence was here to pick his son up.
“Its your dad. Get in the bathroom, its through there, put your clothes right.”
“Yes sir… I mean…”
“Quickly!”
I stood, took a deep breath, straightened my clothes and answered the door. Clarence stood there, beaming.
“What did I tell you? Good lad eh?”
“Hes an impressive young man.”
“Where is he?”
“Oh he’s just in the bathroom. He wont be a moment.”
Devon emerged at that moment. Stood behind me. Not a hair out of place. Tie and shirt immaculate. It occured to me at that moment that my stubble may have grazed his face as we kissed, but for the moment his soft olive skin remained pristine.
“What do you think Devon? Another lesson with Mr Dawson?” asked his father.
“Oh I’d love to. I think I can learn a lot here.” he replied.
“You’re very welcome.” I said.
“You two should swap numbers then” said his father.
“Good idea!” I handed Devon a business card. “Text me!”
He nodded. Once again my eyes met his beautiful hazel eyes, but now there was a naughty glint in them.
I shook Clarence’s hand and they left. I closed the door behind me and let out a huge sigh. Almost instantly my phone buzzed.
– Not fair that you sucked my cock. I want to suck you sir.
– You will. Are you free Saturday afternoon?
– Yes sir.
– Tell your dad I’ll need you for 3 hours.
– I will sir. You don’t mind if I call you sir?
– Not now
– Why?
– Because it makes me hard
– Can I suck your cock?
– You will. And we’ll also continue our lessons on verse form. You have a lot of potential.
– Thank you sir.
– We’ll learn together. Explore literature together. I’ll introduce you to the work of the Symbolists.
– Yes sir
– And then I’m going to slide my cock inside your ass.
– Yes sir