premiership-lads-84

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Subject: Premiership Lads part 84: Neco Neco knew his own youthful recovery was fast, but Elliott was a little dynamo. At times, living together almost as surrogate brothers, it could be highly irritating; when it came to exercise and football, it was just inspiring and entertaining. Ball under arm, Elliott was making his way over to where the two youths had discarded their tops, flopping down onto the grass alongside him and giving him a critical look. `You still worn out, old man?’ the young prodigy poked. `God, just imagine when you’re like 30, you’ll be a corpse.’ He prodded a light kick at Neco’s calf, and the Welshman jabbed a little punch to his shoulder. `Go fuck yourself, little one,’ Williams snapped with a playful wink. They were both considered impressive youngsters at Liverpool, where the manager’s cultivation of a young reserve team capable of winning big games without the usual stars anywhere near the pitch had turned many heads this ill-fated season — but between the two of them, the 2 year age gap had been a joke since they first met in their first youth side. In reality, Neco barely noticed the age gap. Harvey was mature in his own way — okay, not MATURE, he was a feral lunatic of a kid, but he has cynical and aged in his own way, streetwise and experienced. There was a reason he’d battled onto a Premiership field before even turning 16. Big things were predicted, and Neco didn’t doubt them, he just enjoyed keeping the other youngster’s ego in check with banter and the occasional assertion of his seniority. The pair lounged in the sun listening to Neco’s playlist, a pair of exhausted whippets panting in the heat after their late afternoon burst of extreme energy. They were trying to force down their 5k times in competition with some online post from that ex-Everton gimp Ross Barkley; it had got a load of Premier League guys talking about his speed, and arrogant Harvey was determined to beat it. They had only been fractions away from it today. `Imagine being allowed out of the house for more than one fucking run,’ the Surrey-born wunderkind muttered somewhere near his elbow. Neco cocked his head to listen. `It’s getting so fuckin’ repitive, bro, I tell ya. I’m goin’ nuts.’ `Oh yeh, your wild social life ruined,’ Williams mocked, still enjoying the underage restrictions on Harvey, though neither of them were exactly wild and free. The family that looked after them were lovely and kind, but fairly conservative and, when required, strict. The whole point was that the club paid them to keep young hopes like them in check, controlling their diet and lifestyle, enforcing professional standards and so on. Neco, naturally quite quiet and laidback, rarely clashed with this; he understood the responsibility and challenge of it all and, though he often missed Wrexham and his own family, he appreciated the years he’d had in a string of local host families, knowing that this last one of four years had been by far the best. Harvey, on the other hand, swung wildly between loud rows with their `parents’ over the slightest limitations on his freedom, then intense affection and closeness. Charismatic but erratic, that was the best way Williams could describe his junior housemate when asked by others at Anfield. `Nah though, seriously,’ Elliott went on. `I need a smoke or a beer or a fuckin’ blowie.’ Neco rolled his eyes lazily. `Ooh gosh, you’re so mature and tough saying those rude words, oooh…’ He punched him in the shoulder again and rolled away a little, onto his back, exposing his defined young torso to the perfect blue skies. `Everyone so impressed… Harvs the bad boy…’ `Fuck off. You not feelin’ the same?’ `I haven’t touched a cigarette since I was 12,’ Williams said dismissively. `And neither will you again if you’ve got half a fuckin’ brain, bro.’ Harvey was just shrugging and picking idly at daisies in the grass. `I’m bored of being goody goody in here. Lockdown ain’t natural, bruv. Fuck it.’ `We’re doing our bit,’ Neco said diplomatically. `Better bored here than making a dick of yourself… like, you know, Jack fucking Grealish or bloody Walker at City, or — you don’t wanna be a nob like them and break the rules. So shut up.’ A vague grumble from his adoptive brother. `Yeh, yeh, true that. Fuckin’ cunts. Who do they think they are?’ The Surrey teen began to mouth off about those particular scandals, as loose-lipped as ever. Neco smirked at his rant, knowing Elliott was still barely out of trouble for his nasty impressions of Harry Kane on Snapchat, not to mention the string of other minor disciplinaries that had followed him around Liverpool in the past two years, as persistent as the rapturous praise for his early promise. `So anway,’ Neco eventually interrupted, `that’s my point. People who break lockdown are cunts. We’re doing this to keep everyone safe. So stop whinging.’ `God. You’re so fuckin’ old and sensible now you’re 19. Cunt.’ `Oh shut up. Get a new joke.’ `Get a new hip, old man.’ Another light kick to the side, though not as light as Williams would have liked; he responded by flipping over and grabbing his friend in a sweaty tousle, wrestling at his waist and bearing him down into the grass. Shorter, slimmer Harvey cackled and lashed out, unable to throw off the tightly muscled Welshman, but landing a knee to his six-pack and a tickling hand in one armpit, then wriggling away and up onto his feet. Neco laughed, nursed a brief pain in the side, and scoffed at his restless companion, settling back into the grass and pulling some loose curls of his dark hair out of his eyes as he looked up at the other lad’s striking silhouette, more of his long wiry hair dislodged and loose about the shaved patterned sides of his head. `I’m not saying there isn’t shit I miss in the normal world,’ Neco pointed out, sitting up on his arse and reaching for his cool drink. `Obvs there is. But I’m legal so I CAN sneak the odd beer in here, even with Nutrition Nazi in the kitchen. A blowie though…’ He smirked and chuckled, shaking his head. `No chance of that for weeks or months, mate!’ `Tell me about it,’ grumbled Harvey with a roll of his eyes. He scratched his scruffy patchy goatee and fiddled with his messy hair again. `That’s what I’m sayin’. Drives ya mad.’ Neco gave him a look of mock seriousness, letting the cool rim of the glass linger at his chin. `Well Harvs, I think it’s about time we sat you down and told you… a lad can actually pleasure HIMSELF when he needs to, ya know, so…’ `Ohhhh, fuck, who knew,’ came the grumpy sarcasm. `Mate, I’m wanking til my hands drop off. Ain’t the same, is it?’ `Listen to the teen lothario,’ Williams jibed. `Mr Lover Lover… shut yer whinging, pal. Put up with a bit of jerking off like the rest of us. Go have one now if it will stop you scowling and pacing! Fuck’s sake… haha…’ `I’ve been with plenty of girls,’ snapped Harvey a little defensively, `you know that. I’m well experienced for my age,’ he boasted obnoxiously. `Yep, for your age,’ Neco confirmed with a note of mockery. `Oh, relax. Forget it. We’ll be fine.’ `Just cos you ain’t used to a new pussy every weekend,’ Harvey insisted arrogantly. The tall handsome defender just smiled patiently and squinted in the bright sunshine, waiting for his friend’s mood to subside, amused rather than offended by the claim. `Finished?’ he asked, when Elliott had stopped muttering under his breath. `Fuck off inside and have a cold shower, your randy idiot. We have chores to do before dinner, remember.’ `Ugh. Nutrition Nazis.’ But Harvey knelt down, scooped up his sweaty vest, and marched off towards the back door of the house, his slim young body glistening under the early summer weather. As soon as he reached the cool shadows of the house, Neco could hear his voice transform as he charmed their `mum’ in the kitchen and made his way indoors. Flaky prick! Williams lingered outdoors, unwilling to race again for their shared bathroom and the much-needed shower; let Harvey win another contest and cool off, the moody bugger. Out here it was beautiful and relaxing. He stretched his body out, let his hands trace his flat pecs and ripped abs with idle young vanity, and flexed his long legs against the tickling grass. Sure, he shared Harvey’s frustrations, almost all of them; but the sun was shining and they were safe and privileged, so he wasn’t going to waste a second bemoaning what they were missing out on. Except maybe the blowjobs; what was sunshine, in a world without blowjobs? He chuckled to himself and dismissed that thought, refusing to sink to his housemate’s crude impatience. But half an hour later, stood in the shower of their shared bathroom, Neco Williams felt the pull of a more sociable world. Harvey’s complaints had unearthed the frustrations that had simmered beneath the surface and only troubled Neco in the dark of night or first thing in the dawn, cursed with morning wood. The 6ft teenager stood under the blast of water and rubbed soap suds at his flat chest with a little growling sigh, tilting his head to watch the foam glide down his taut abdomen and over his furry legs; between them dangled his semi-hard prick, riled by the thought of the casual fun he was missing out on without Fridays and Saturdays in the city, flashing his grin and letting mersin escort hot young Scouse ladies recognise him as a newly arrived Premiership baller. Neco had been consciously avoiding a proper girlfriend: he felt he was on the cusp of his career really taking off and he saw a lot of young players’ girlfriends as distracting forces, needy and demanding and sometimes taking the focus away from your talents… He was determined to stay solo and strong for now, but he’d enjoyed the increased attention since he’d made his Premier League debut for Liverpool, enjoyed the status it brought to an already handsome and athletic youth. Plus, Liverpool girls, a lot more `easy’ than the small-town Welsh birds back home… Irresistibly, Nico’s right hand strayed from one developing pec and down the bumps of his six-pack, past the stubbly re-growth of his pubes, to the thick dangle of his meat, fingers sliding over wet flesh and another little sigh drowned in the noise of the shower as he tossed back his head, curls dripping wet, and… `DINNER’S READY!’ The voice of his surrogate mother audible through several walls and the watery groans of the plumbing. Fuck. He’d taken ages to get in the shower, delayed by young Elliott’s preening and posing in the bathroom. Jesus, he felt so worked up now: a good toss in here would be SO satisfying but… He heard the shout again, gritted his teeth. He pulled his hand reluctantly away from his fattening prick and washed soap out of his eyes, finishing up the shower. Neco sat through dinner in a state of heightened sensitivity and frustration, the plump semi in his boxer shorts seeming unwilling to fuck off even as he chewed his way through the meal and nodded and smiled to the bland, repetitive lockdown chat. By contrast, Harvey seemed in his hyper mood, entertaining the married couple and younger children who hosted them with a detailed commentary of their daily run and the random shit they’d seen pounding the pavements of this Liverpool suburb. He can really switch his moods on and off, a proper teenager, Neco reflected. One minute his younger buddy was scowling and moaning, the next he was all toothy grins and charming deference. After dinner, the family were watching a film, but Williams excused himself, claiming tiredness and need to catch up on a few boring emails with club responsibilities. He drifted away and headed upstairs twice: the two young footballers shared the top floor of the detached house, an attic space converted into bedrooms with a shared little bathroom between them. Neco reached the landing and turned at the light footsteps of being followed. `I thought you were gonna watch the movie?’ he said to Harvey, a touch irritably. `Nah they voted on some kids’ shit,’ snapped Elliott. `What are you slinking off for, anyways?’ `Slinking off?’ Neco laughed. He moved through into his room, notably the larger of the two, and Harvey followed with an obnoxious ease, never someone to really respect boundaries. Almost as soon as the two lads were in the room, Harvey was striding over and throwing himself on Neco’s bed as if it was his own, leaving the Welsh youth to take a seat at his corner desk and spin the leather chair around to face his visitor. `Emails,’ scoffed Harvey. `You came up here for a bit of “alone time” huh?’ Neco screwed up his face and laughed awkwardly. `Well, so what if I did, you’re clearly gonna ruin that, huh?!’ he muttered. He pushed at some buttons and loaded up his laptop half-heartedly, then picked up a remote and flicked on some background music, watching with a mix of amusement and resentment as the 17-year-old winger got comfortable on his sheets. `Dunno `bout ruin,’ Harvey remarked. `What are you on about?’ Neco asked dismissively. He moved about the room switching on a couple of lamps, beginning to resent his friend’s presence more, that stirring from his hot shower clearly in no rush to leave his body. Back to his housemate, he adjusted the front of his baggy nylon shorts to make the semi less visible, and dug his hands into the pouch at the front of his Adidas hoody as he turned to glare at the intruder. `Now, I have actually have shit to do, so can you go play Minecraft in your room like a good wee kiddy and…’ `Fuck off,’ chuckled Harvey. `I mean it.’ `Yeh, yeh.’ `Twat.’ `Bender.’ Harvey sat up on the bed and stroked his wispy goatee. He was wearing a loose white tshirt and slim-fitting grey joggers, looking very relaxed. There was a worryingly thoughtful expression on his face that made Neco twitch and fuss self-consciously as he moved back across the room and perched by his desk. `What’s that smirk for?’ he demanded. `I know that look. You got some weed stuffed in your room or something?’ `Fuck, I wish,’ Harvey complained. `Nah, just thinkin’.’ `Dangerous,’ the Wrexham defender laughed. `Should I warn the fire brigade?’ `Nah, bud, just listen,’ Harvey said, `was just thinkin’ about… well, you know, what we’re missin’ out on an’ that.’ He got up from the bed, hands on hips, as if about to make some business proposition. `I was thinkin’ that we don’t just have to put up with it.’ Neco also stood, subconsciously asserting his height and age as he faced the young troublemaker. `I am NOT skipping lockdown,’ he said quietly and firmly. `I’m no Grealish, no Walker. What you gonna suggest? Climbing out that fucking window?’ He laughed, shook his head. `You really are just a kid, Harv. 17 and a week, but 13 somewhere in your head!’ Harvey just eyed him rebelliously and tutted. `I wasn’t thinking that,’ he muttered. `I was thinkin’…’ He huffed, folded his arms. `You’re horny, right? I can tell.’ `What? I…’ Neco felt a slight blush but he laughed it off, irked. `What has that got to do with you?!’ `Oh come on I can see the bulge in yer shorts,’ grunted the younger player. `Fuckin’ stop looking then!’ `Shut up, relax…’ Harvey took a step forward. `Look, was just thinkin’, why should we miss out on fun an’ blowjobs an’ that, I mean, there is two of us here, after all, so like…’ Neco stared at him, blinked, and pushed past him towards the bed. `Fucking HELL, Harv,’ he exclaimed in a muted cry of despair, `what has gotten into you?’ He flopped down onto the side of the bed, letting his shorts ride up his sturdy thighs, and waved a hand radically at the younger guy. `Are you in here offering me a fuckin suck-job?! Get downstairs and watch that movie you mentalist…’ Harvey just stood there, an oddly curious look on his face, making Neco squirm and stare back; he was waiting for the punchline to this awkward joke. He really wished Elliott would just piss off now so he could attend to the soft but growing bulge in his pants, load up some porn, treat himself. He backed off a tiny bit as Harvey approached the bed, hands waving in gestures of argument. `Look, there’s summat I should tell ya,’ Elliott began. `What, you’ve fancied me for years?! Fuck’s sake, Ell…’ `Shut up will ya?’ He sat down on the bed two foot away. `I saw summat weird a while back, at work, you know.’ Neco watched the nervous twitching of Harvey’s face; less obnoxious now, more cautiously excited. `I saw some weird shit go down in the gym, on my way out of training the other week, just before lockdown an’ that.’ Williams straightened up uncomfortably but nodded for him to continue. `What are you on about mate?’ `Saw a couple of the lads getting noshed off,’ Harvey blurted. `Jesus, at training? Those physio girls…’ `Nah,’ Harvey said in a tense, quiet voice, `it was lad on lad.’ `Fuck off,’ Neco said with a hollow laugh. What madness was this kid spouting now? `I’m serious.’ `Yeh, sure you are… Who was it, then?’ `I saw Gomez,’ Harvey claimed, and Neco laughed a little, and then, `and it was Salah too-` and the Welsh 19-year-old burst out in full hearty laughter. He reached out and patted Harvey’s shoulder, shaking his head with a broad grin. `Good one. Funny. Yep.’ `Mate, fuckin’ listen,’ insisted Harvey irritably. `I’m just tellin’ ya what I saw, fucking hell.’ `You saw Joe Gomez and Mo Salah getting it on in the gym,’ Neco repeated dryly. `How much had you smoked that afternoon…? Fucking hell kid, you are killing my vibe up here, can you just go play some PS4 and give me an hour, and…’ As if to prompt his friend’s exit he grabbed the front of his shorts significantly and wave his other arm at the door. `Nah nah,’ Harvey said, shuffling closer, `wasn’t them two getting’ it on, mate. Them two, right, they were just sat there, getting blown — an’ I was like, what the fuck? But I hung on a sec at the window, right, thinkin’… well, which chick was on her knees sorting them out, like, and then…’ `And then you fucking woke up?’ snapped Neco impatiently. `It were fuckin’ Oxlade-Chamberlain.’ Neco sighed and tittered. `Seriously, mate? Fuck’s sake… I was expecting a much funnier climax. Why didn’t you go with the big man, old Jurgen? Hah… fuck off.’ Neco rolled his eyes and pushed Harvey playfully away from him on the side of the bed. `Jesus Christ…’ `I’m being real,’ Harvey said, looked infuriated by the incredulity. `Fuck’s sake. I’m just sayin’ what I saw. Clearly when lads can’t get what they want, they… ya know… compromise.’ He shrugged his young shoulders escort mersin and gave a sulky pout. `Sure they do,’ Neco sighed. `Fuck off. So you wanna suck me off, aye? Not happening, buddy boy…’ Elliott scoffed. `Nah, was more like you should suck me off, but whatever.’ `Yep, also NOT happening.’ Williams laughed, pushed him playfully in the arm, and sat there. He was having trouble putting any faith whatsoever in the 17-year-old’s narrative, completely cynical and bewildered. Clearly the story was utter fiction, but the curiosity behind it, well, who knew? He never woulda guessed at young Harvey Elliott as a bit queer, but… `We could just try wankin’ each other,’ the other teen suddenly blurted. The hot pink of his cheeks and the shifty darting of his eyes revealed the nervous energy behind the suggestion, and that made Williams pause rather than laugh immediately. The seriousness of the idea was clear and slightly alarming. `Mate,’ he said cautiously, `I don’t think…’ `Can’t be that queer, can it?’ Harvey demanded quite forcefully. He got up then, crossing the room to shut the door, immediately casting an eerie intimacy over the large bedroom. He clearly had no intention of slipping back through to the box room he occupied next door. He was pawing nervously at the front of his white tshirt, sweaty palms and blushing cheeks. `Like — touching one dick is the same as touching another — right? You do me, I do you, and like…’ `Mate!’ Neco laughed, but warily, `Are you for real? You’re losing it, buddy. Listen to yourself.’ Harvey gave him an intense little stare. `Tell me you ain’t bored of yer own hand.’ Neco made to speak but had to stop himself. `I… Of course wanking ain’t the same as getting laid, fuck’s sake, but… Harvs, bud, I don’t think that… it’s not like…’ A long frustrated sigh. `You been giving this a lot of thought, huh?’ Harvey shrugged, drifted back to the bed. `If we did it under the covers,’ he said quietly, `we wouldn’t even need to see it happen.’ A LOT of thought then. `Just bash on some porn, we’ll do our business, it will feel like…’ A nervous little shrug, scratch of chin, fumble with top-knot. `It ain’t that mad, is it, bro?’ Neco didn’t agree with the plan out loud. He sat there, staring from Harvey to the closed door, then down at the swelling in his shorts. Then he got up silently, opened a window slightly, and went back to the door; Harvey quietly watched as he twisted the little brass lock under the door handle. Taking the cue, Elliott moved back to the bed. Neco went to his laptop on the edge of the desk, and loaded up a browser in secret mode. As he rapped his fingers at the keyboard, he turned and shot a dark look at his accomplice. `You don’t mention this to a fucking soul,’ he said in a harsh whisper. `Why the fuck would I?’ Elliott grunted back. As the porn loaded up and Williams hit `full screen’, Elliott was propping himself up; the double bed was pushed in against the wall, so the youth lined up one of the pillows as a backrest and sat sideways across the bed. Neco pulled his hoody up and off first, down to a thin grey vest and the baggy basketball shorts, and then he crossed onto the bed and pulled a pillow up in the same way, taking his seat alongside his young housemate, and turning his eyes back to the action on screen: a fave of his, a POV scene with a really hot young slut servicing a butch American bloke in an artificial looking living room somewhere in California. Neco took hold of the plain grey duvet cover and yanked it up over their laps like a pair of old grannies huddling under a blanket. He then turned and glared at Harvey, half-expecting the punchline of the joke. But he saw how trembling and uncomfortable the youth looked, despite being the one to suggest this. His almost brotherly affection overrode his own tension and fear, and he rubbed Harvey’s shoulder for a moment. `You sure about this, daft lad?’ he asked softly. `Fuck it,’ Harvey grunted back, `why not?’ Then the Surrey kid was fumbling under the sheets, so Neco did the same; he reached his arms under the duvet and pulled at the loose waist of his shorts, shoving them down over the dark-haired warmth of his thighs, about his bony knees, and then hesitating to do the same to his boxer shorts; he looked back to the laptop screen, sighed, then lifted his tensed buttocks off the mattress a moment and tugged the plain black boxer shorts the same way so he was naked from the waist down but for the safety of the duvet. He sat stiffly back against the pillow and wall, stared hard at the unfolding porn scene, and questioned the rapid turn of thinking that had led him from incredulous laughter to sitting here like this. `Gomez and Salah?’ he murmured. `And… the Ox?’ `For real, bro.’ `I don’t believe you…’ `Don’t care. I swear on my life.’ A heavy gulping sound and a nervous intake of breath, then — `You ready, bro?’ demanded Harvey. `Uh… well, fuck, no, but…’ Neco forced a laugh. Then he felt it. Harvey’s hand creeping towards him under the covers. He felt knuckles graze the hair of his left thigh, and then the fingertips of Harvey’s right hand were crossing his leg. He breathed in deeply and trained his eyes on the girl on the laptop screen, so small and pixelated from here, difficult to concentrate on… there it was, one finger prodding gently at the long soft weight of his dick. He couldn’t help tense up, pushing his shoulders back into the wall, clearing his throat a little. The finger pulled back for a moment then returned with friends; the soft warm skin of his mate’s palm wrapped about his semi and, under the duvet, gave it an experimental tug. `Huh,’ Neco breathed in surprise, feeling his dick respond to this alien touch, just as if it was some hort bird he’d pulled on a night out, not a spotty teenage lad with a brace and ridiculous haircut. He parted his legs ever so slightly to make room and tried to relax his torso. He could feel his cock stretch and harden in the gentle hold; another couple of slow tugs sent tingles through his body and he had to cough and gulp to suppress the gentle moan that nearly rose up. `Bud,’ hissed Harvey, `it got to be two-way…’ Right. Yep. Sure. Neco slid his left hand under the duvet and found it brushing past Harvey’s slim arm, obviously, on its way; this was fucking weird. He reached down and found it with alarming ease, shocked and slightly nauseated as his fingers immediately brushed the stiff warm meat and traced the unmistakable curve of an erection between Elliott’s legs. He closed his hand about it, feeling the veiny shaft and the gentle bulge of its head, and then gave it the slowest, most uncertain of wanking pulls. `Fuck,’ moaned Harvey, `you feel good, mate.’ The unashamed honesty of this report both scared and thrilled Neco, and he leaned a tiny bit closer to ease the angle, beginning to jerk his mate’s smaller prick in the same furtive rhythm with which his own was being pulled back and forth. Their bare arms rubbed and pushed at each other inevitably, their shoulders almost meeting. `She’s so fucking hot,’ Neco panted, needing to move the focus to the screen. `She is,’ Harvey agreed, but a moment later, `god, your hand is so soft…’ `Thanks,’ he told him, because what the fuck else should he say? `Mmm, bud…’ `Shush,’ Neco hissed distractedly. `Sorry, just…’ `Just watch the porn, mate.’ `I am.’ `Good.’ But Harvey was it right: it felt fucking good. After weeks of your own familiar touch, another hand, even clumsy and strange, was exciting, stimulating. Neco felt his dick and balls throb. If he forgot the crap distant porn and everything else, closed his eyes, it was like he was getting a secretive handjob from some lass, it took him back to his younger teens and his first exploits. A cheeky wank off a desperate female pal, gripping him inside his trackies round the back of McDonalds and making him… Mmmm, he could cum soon, he thought, he could definitely cum from this… `Look,’ hissed Harvey at his left. `God, look at her wet cunt.’ Neco opened his eyes again, took in the sordid scene. `Jeez, bro… how much do you miss fingering a wet cunt like that?!’ `Oh yeh,’ he responded immediately, `fuck yes…’ `You wish you had a pussy here to finger?’ `Fuck yes,’ Neco laughed, beginning to loosen up, feeling the longer confident strokes on his own big meat, forgetting for a minute whose hand it was. He closed his eyes again, let his head roll back against the wall, mentally placing himself somewhere very different. `A nice tight cunt,’ went on Harvey in a filthy moan. `Oh fuck yes, defo,’ Neco agreed in a growl. `Here,’ whispered Elliott, and his hand was on his; pushing it off his cock, prising his fingers from that trembling length, and shifting them down and forward; it was hard for Neco to react to this, because at the same time, the base of his own rock-hard prick was being firmly squeezed and then fingertips tickling up to his tight foreskin. But then he realised, his hand was being pushed down beneath the fold of bollocks and between smooth legs and — `Feel my cunt,’ whispered Harvey’s voice, `go on…’ `But-` But the other guy’s voice was blurred with the low-volume squeals of the laptop. Neco, eyes shut, could feel a gentle, mersin escort bayan caressing touch move up and down his lengthy Welsh erection, and could feel his left hand pressed between smooth firm legs and touching up against a creased entrance, and so… he pushed in. He could feel the taut glute muscles bar his fingers but he pushed on. Neco loved fingering a girl; again, memories of youthful fumbles, getting inside the knickers of that same chavvy girl, frigging her up against the bins with his own cum still staining his trackies. He pushed his finger into the warm crack and felt his way against a tight ring. `Mmmm, buddy…’ `Shut up Harvs…’ `Sorry, bro, just… ohh…’ Caught up in fantasy, Neco gave up on the weak left hand. He planted that on the mattress between their buttocks and leaned to reach over more fully, shoving his right hand under the duvet and passed the trembling cock and in between his mate’s legs, and found that smooth arse-crack, the imagined cunt of some female conquest, and pushed in a single finger until he found the entrance. Now Harvey’s gasp was gentle and, again, mixed with the pitchy squeals of the porn-star; the hand on Neco’s cock went limp with ecstasy and gave up its surprisingly confident handjob. `Your cunt is so tight,’ Neco found himself groaning. He leaned in, threw his left arm about the bare slim shoulders of the 17-year-old, as if cuddling his fantasy girl to him, and rested his forehead in against the side of her head whilst levering his right arm more carefully down between her legs. `Oh yeh you fuckin’ slut…’ He forced in a second finger and held her to his side and frigged her, pushing two dry fingers in and out of her hole with rhythm. Gasps and squeals sounded indistinctly around him, and then- `Buddy, you filthy fucker,’ sniggered Harvey, and the spell was — for a dangerous moment — broken. This wasn’t some lass’s cunt. This was his mate’s arse. Neco, who had never broached anal with a girl, felt how tight and defensive the ring about his knuckles was, felt the muscular tone of the flesh beneath his arms, slowly opened his eyes and stared into the side-profile of Harvey’s face. FUCK. He pulled away forcefully, but as he did… he saw Harveys’ face pull back, saw his gasp, his eyes clammed shut… `Ohhh shit,’ came the orgasmic groan, `oh shit buddy…’ Neco pulled back, his throat dry and his head spinning, leaving his arm limply about his mate’s shoulders and pressing his back and neck into the pillow to the wall. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He reached his right hand up to his face in dismay but immediately smelt the musty sweat of his mate’s backside and pulled the hand far from his face instead, but then… just as he considered clambering out of the bed and yanking up his pants, there was a hand on his nob then, soft and gentle and now slicked wet with, what, pussy juice? (No, he told himself, Harvey’s hand his wet with his own spunk, you idiot…) But the handjob resumed, slow and controlled and… oh so good… `Keep your eyes closed,’ Harvey insisted. `Relax. Think of her. Come on.’ His cock tingling with excitement, Neco felt it happening but it did nothing to stop it; he could feel the shifting presence of his wiry pal, the strain of the mattress beneath them as one body leaned over. Harvey’s sweaty hand gripping somewhere low on his vest and the duvet being pulled up to cover it, so that when Neco opened his eyes, he was still just sat against the wall on his bed, free to imagine what he liked, but his pal had disappeared and the bedcovers were rising up in front of him in a hump. Harvey’s licks grazed his boner and this time, at last, he couldn’t hold in his little moan of manly pleasure. `Oh…’ Then a tongue, wet and pushing, on his bell-end. Hands grabbing and rubbing at the fur of his thighs. Neco reached under the covers and maybe, for a second, his intention was to push that curious mouth away: but what he felt, after all, was long hair, a tight bun of it, the rest scraped back into that knot… an almost feminine sensation beneath his struggling hands, and so the fantasy returned… it was that girl off the screen down there, noshing him, just as she was on the screen, although the porn video had buffered and stalled, there was no stimulation for him in the room but was going on down there beneath the duvet. `Fuck,’ Neco swore passionately, `fuck, don’t stop…’ And he held the girl’s head there, one hand on the back of her neck and the other stroking her tight knot of hair, feeling lips slide down some of his length, struggling to take it in, that muscular tongue wrestling against the shaft and teasing around the tip. Fingers on his bollocks now, teasing and massaging. Edging boldly beneath them for his gooch, but he pressed his arse down firmly to the mattress and prevented the one questing finger getting under his thighs; no, there had to be LIMITS. He pushed down more firmly on the head at his crotch, as if in punishment for this transgression, but also knowing how close he was. Neco didn’t notice the resistance here, the change in the grasping hands, he just held that head down, pushed his cock up, and unloaded. Oh, how good it felt to be in her mouth, to be fucking a face, to have his cock satisfied by oral for the first time in over a month… oh god, yes… He closed his eyes and lolled his head back to the wall, gasping for breath, and slowly releasing his hold on the tangled duvet over his waist. Beneath it he heard muffled gasps and whimpers. He returned to reality slowly and pulled the duvet back with a hesitant arm. Immediately, Harvey pulled away, up off the sideways lounging position he’d adopted, bringing the back of one hand up to his mouth; but not quick enough, because Neco caught sight of wet droplets of his own seed in the `tache and beard of mousy hair that grew there, and he felt his stomach lurch at what he’d submitted to. He pulled himself away, grabbing the duvet over his quivering wet dick, and staring in horror at the crouching form of his housemate and best pal. `You fucking spunked,’ hissed Elliott disgustedly. `What? But — you were –` `Fuck’s sake mate!’ Harvey exclaimed a bit too loudly, and he spat something out on the covers. `Fucking hell mate…’ He was scrambling off the bed, spitting again, wiping at his goatee, rushing up onto his feet. He turned his back on Neco and gave a flash of his rounded pale backside as he yanked up his briefs and joggers. Neco performed an awkward pulling up of his own undies and shorts as he slid off the bed, tucking away his limp member and pulling back on his hoody as if he could undo the past fifteen minutes of rushed pleasure. When he’d wriggled into the top and straightened his outfit, he saw how upset and confused his young friend looked, and he grabbed him by the arm. `Hey, bro,’ he murmured, `we okay?’ `I never said you could do that,’ Elliott grumbled at him, shamefaced. Neco gawped defensively back, overwhelmed. `I never agreed to put my finger up your jacksie,’ he snapped curtly back, and instinctively wiped his right hand down the side of his vest, remembering where it had been. `Fuck’s sake, pal. You started it.’ That reminder of the role Harvey had played seemed to be the wrong thing to say. The usually arrogant teen went bright red, scowled furiously, bunched up fists, wiped his arm against his mouth once more. `Fuck you,’ he said coldly, `you stupid prick.’ Off he went. Neco grabbed for his arm but was shaken off. The door was slammed on the way out with true teenage tantrum. Williams hovered uncomfortably in front of it, hearing the angry footsteps disappear into the neighbouring room. He leant on his own bedroom door and sighed deeply. When he’d recovered sufficiently, he went into their shared bathroom and washed his hands three times, then washed his prick in the sink, then stared guiltily at his own reflection. Had he taken it too far? Gotten to into it…? No! No, Harvey had pushed things, of course he had, the dirty bugger. Neco had just… gone with the flow. If only `the flow’ hadn’t been quite so… filthy. He put on a film he’d seen five times and crawled into bed, staring thoughtlessly at the opening credits of the familiar action movie. He pictured Harvey sulking in the next room, and dreaded meeting him tomorrow morning at breakfast; would they still go on their run? Ugh. Why did he have to agree to the stupid idea? He knew it was wrong! He lay there, trying to ease himself into the narrative, but unable to concentrate. Eventually he just knocked it off, rolled over, and hoped for sleep. But his thoughts turned back to that ridiculous lie that had started it all off. Alex Oxlade-fucking-Chamberlain, down on his knees in the Liverpool FC gym, what a load of shite! He thought about the strong-jawed South Coast lad, a bit of a hero for Neco in recent years, and chatting to him over FaceTime on his recent birthday; nah, no way would that big butch mixed-race lad be noshing anyone off, he wasn’t some sleazy gimp like… like… like Harvey fucking Elliott. And Gomez and good Muslim boy Salah… no fucking way! He almost laughed out loud into his pillow as he mentally dismissed his friend’s banter. That had all just been preamble to get to what Harvey wanted to try out, clearly. Dirty fucker. Neco would have to have a serious word with him tomorrow, make it clear it was a stupid idea and he’d known it would end in trouble. Knock it on the head. It had been wrong, inappropriate, totally out of order for them. So why the fuck had it felt so good?

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