“Right on,” he hisses, racing across the street and pulling me along with him.
We check that the coast is clear before we unlock his front door and step inside his cottage.
It’s immaculate and smells incredible. There are reed diffusers by the entrance hall and, it appears, in every cranny, and the furniture is tasteful and most likely antique. I want to nosy around, but I also need Eggo to finish what he started at Abs’s place.
I strip off my T-shirt. Eggo closes the curtains in the living room and pulls his shirt off. Seconds later he’s on his knees again, unzipping my fly and dragging my shorts and jocks down to my thighs.
It occurs to me that Eggo must be thinking of this as a goodbye BJ. I need to tell him about Cornwall. Ask him if I’m still welcome.
“Eggs?” I say.
“Mmm?” he replies, wrapping his fist around my cock.
“I’m . . . um . . . I’m coming.”
“Already?” He looks at my dick, then back up to my face. “Man, I’m good at this.”
“No, I’m coming. To Newquay. With you for the off season. If you’ll still have me?”
“Oh my fucking god, are you being serious?” He’s standing now. “Are you really?”
“Yes. Is that okay?”
“Of course that’s fucking okay.” He hugs me so tightly that my feet leave the ground. “Holy shit, we’re gonna have so much fun. This is going to be the best summer ever. Are you . . . I need to fuck you. Are you . . .”
“I expect Gadget will have some stuff we need upstairs.”
Eggo’s already running off.
“Oh, watch your head on those—”
SMACK.
“Beams.”
Eggo fake cries, and holds a spot just above his eye. “My poor beautiful brain.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Nah, fuck it. It’s just a skull. Good job I’m not captain, aye? Pain can wait, I need to bury myself in your ass.” And he’s gone up the stairs.
Chapter 32
Finn
Thursday 8th July 2027
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god,” Pi yells, his voice muffled by the duvet.
We’ve been at my parents’ house in Newquay for just over a fortnight, but so far my folks have always been here,always been around, and we’ve had very little alone time. Until now, we’ve been limited to sneaking about, squeezing in quickie BJs when they pop out to Morrisons, and giving covert handies at night that won’t creak the bed too much.
But Kelly and Stu Fareham have buggered off for a two-week all-inclusive holiday to Cancun and have left us silly boys in charge, and for the first time since arriving here, we have finally been able to let loose.
So naturally, Pi’s on all fours in the middle of the mattress, and I’m balls deep in his ass, going hell for leather.
In theory, the house is detached, but the gap between my folks’ place and the neighbours’ is so narrow that you can barely wiggle a finger in. Definitely none of my girthy fingers. The couple next door are also OAPs and profoundly deaf, and my goal is to make sure even they know what’s going down right now.
I have one hand hooked around Pi’s collarbone and the other braced on the wooden headboard, gripping on for dear life as it ricochets against the bedroom wall, sounding like a washing machine on spin cycle.
