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Subject: Do As You’re Told – Chapter Twenty Part 2 Do As You’re Told Chapter Twenty: Groundhog Day If you need permission to read this story please obtain it first. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional. This story is exclusively for entertainment purposes so please enjoy in safe and legal manner. Nifty could use your help – fty/donate.html For updates, synopses he played with his phone to pass the time, replying to a message from Cameron, checking Twitter, browsing Instagram – and then the door opened. The door had no bell or chime and no wind blew into the shop to signal a new arrival. Vincent had not been watching out the corner of his eye or looking up every few seconds or minutes. Vincent could not explain how he knew that Charlie had just walked back into his life, but he had. Charlie’s eyes found Vincent’s from across the room and they gazed as if it were a surprise, as if this had not been pre-arranged and it was some twist of fate that they were suddenly reunited. The space between them was as great as the five years they had been apart. Five years. The time seemed impossible. At six years old Charlie had been Vincent’s friend, at eight his best friend; at twelve his secret crush, at fourteen the first boy he ever loved; at twenty they were enemies, or at least not friends, and at twenty-five they were distant people staring wordlessly across the room at one another. Twenty years from friend to who-knew-what… Charlie crossed the room and spoke quietly, but Vincent heard him well enough. “Hello, Vincent.” Vincent felt so many old emotions battle for his attention. His mum once told him, “The first time you fall in love changes you. That feeling just never goes away.” She was right too – mums usually are. Twenty years is a long time and no-one is the same person as they were back then. Friends and lovers can become strangers with a familiar face and Vincent wondered if he had any right to claim to know Charlie after such a distance. Five years since the last time they had even spoken and Vincent couldn’t think of a thing to say. “Long time, no see,” Vincent said at last. They sat together and Charlie got comfortable by taking off his jacket and scarf, getting a coffee and cake and finally sitting down to… “What?” Vincent was smiling at the milk foam moustache on Charlie’s top lip. “Nothing,” Vincent said but he laughed as he said it and Charlie must have realised because he wiped it away with a grin. Charlie was a few inches taller than Vincent, his skin still fair rather than pale and his straw coloured hair was short. Vincent realised he was staring and took a slurp of caffeine to cover for it. “I was surprised to hear from you. I thought we might never talk again,” Charlie said carefully. Vincent had thought a lot about this conversation. They had touched upon it in the brief emails that had led to this meeting but never really talked about how or why their friendship had ended. Vincent was glad they could settle things face to face, he hated emails: you had to correct people point by point and explain how they are wrong, or right, or elaborate or explain. Vincent needed words. “That was my fault, Charlie. I pushed you away. You didn’t have to talk to me… I guess I was a little surprised you responded,” Vincent admitted. Charlie put down his forkful or carrot cake and looked thoughtful. This was a side of Charlie that Vincent didn’t recognise; Charlie had always been happy-go-lucky, charismatic and blas� so Vincent was unprepared for him looking so serious and pensive. “Look, we both have things we need to say before… anything else. If there is an anything else. So let’s just get this over with,” Charlie said. Vincent sat up straight in his seat and felt the distance between them tense like elastic. The next few minutes would decide whether that elastic snapped or relaxed. “Ok,” Vincent replied with resignation. “It’s pretty hard to describe how… pissed off I was at you. How hurt I was by what you said, telling me I was a bad friend ant to go away. I knew Jake was sick and you must have been hurting but even allowing for that, you made me feel like a total shit,” Charlie said with honesty and composure. Vincent said nothing. “I was ready to reply to your email and give as good as I got. I wanted to tell you to get fucked and not to talk to me like that and who do you think you are? And then… I thought about it… and you were right…” Charlie said. The last word came out as a fragile croak. Tears had sprung into his eyes and guilt sprang into Vincent’s. Vincent said nothing. “I was a selfish bastard. And a crappy friend. I hadn’t bothered to be there for you, I’d failed you, and I hadn’t come to see Jake who deserved better from me. So then I wanted to email you to say sorry. Or call you or text you… But I couldn’t,” Charlie said. Charlie looked at Vincent with pleading eyes – pleading with him to understand. “So long had passed and every time I thought to explain why I hadn’t come it sounded like an excuse. Time had passed and I’d missed my chance to be there for you. Then time passed and I missed my chance to explain myself. Time just kept running away from me and before I knew it, Jake was gone,” Charlie went quiet. Vincent waited and realised it was his turn to speak. “I made it impossible for you to come back, I know,” admitted Vincent. His anger at Charlie was perhaps the least shining moment of his life. “I did as you asked. I stayed a long way away and never came back,” Charlie finished. “I was angry…” “You don’t have to explain,” Charlie interrupted. “Not at you. At the crappy world that had given Jake cancer…” “I get it. But I didn’t help,” Charlie interjected. “I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair…” Charlie reached across the table and put his hands over Vincent’s. Vincent stopped and they just looked at each other. They were each lost in five years of guilt and pain and it ebbed away like a message in a bottle caught in a receding tide. Charlie was the first to speak again; “I’ve missed being your friend.” “I’ve missed you too,” Vincent admitted. “I regret how we… I… how things ended between us. I regret the comfort I never offered and conversations we never had at a time when you most needed them,” Charlie confided. escort bayan “I regret… that I never told you, you made me happy. And I wish I could have made you happy.” “Do you wanna hang out some time?” Vincent said in a deliberately juvenile way to recall their old friendship. “Yea, ok,” Charlie replied. They both relaxed after that and felt a semblance of friendship re-established between them but Charlie’s comment about happiness made circles around Vincent’s head. When Charlie said, “I wish I could have made you happy,” was he still talking about friendship? Just friendship? Or did he mean something else, something more? Vincent told himself he was reading too much into it. They talked for over an hour, catching up and reminiscing and regretting. As Vincent and Charlie stood and left the coffee shop together, they hugged awkwardly and neither seemed sure how to finish their time together. “I never asked where you live now,” Vincent said. “I’m back in the area,” Charlie replied vaguely. “It’s a longer story than we have time for. Next time?” “Ok, sure,” Vincent replied. They hugged again and Charlie crossed the road when a gap in the traffic appeared; Charlie was a patron of jaywalkers anonymous, but Vincent waited for the green man to cross in a different direction from his old/ new friend. Vincent felt invigorated in a way and when he checked his phone he had a message from Cameron. Ignoring the substance of Cameron’s text, he replied: Vincent: [Do you want to come over?] Cameron: [Are you offering to help me with my homework?] Vincent: [Only the hard bits.] Vincent was proud of himself – well punned. MEANWHILE “…Well I don’t know if all that’s true, ’cause you got me and baby I got you, babe….” Nineteen-Sixties pop was not Cameron’s usual taste but the song seemed to be on a lot today; Cameron got the Groundhog Day joke but didn’t laugh. Groundhog Day was a nineties movie about a man stuck in a time loop, the present day remake was called Brexit because it was going to go on forever too. The first thing Cameron had done when he had woken up was to call Robin to wish him a happy birthday; his friend had finally joined the seventeen-years-old club but Robin seemed to be distracted. “Are you in the middle of something?” Cameron asked. There was a pause that told him yes, but the reply that came was so vague as to be evasive. Robin seemed to be secretive and evasive and different a lot lately. Cameron had no room to talk on that score. “Sort of,” Robin said. “Are you with Ben? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink?” Cameron enquired suggestively. Robin laughed, “No. I’m not in the middle of that,” he answered with emphasis on “that.” “Have you guys done ‘that’ yet?” Cameron wondered and didn’t expect Robin to reply. “No. We’ve only really been going out for a few weeks,” Robin replied. Cameron knew Ben had asked Robin out right before the Christmas holidays but was still unclear as to exactly when they started dating. If that’s what it was. Robin didn’t like to talk about it, which made Cameron a little bit sad because they used to talk about everything. Cameron adored the relationship he had with Vincent but the fact it was a secret bummed him out sometimes. He would have liked nothing more than to admit to Robin he had been seeing someone for four months; the impropriety of having sex with a teacher prevented any discussion about it. The fact he was keeping this secret was exactly what prevented Cameron from prying too deeply into Robin’s secrets. “Plus he’s a good Christian boy,” Cameron pointed out. “Yea, no sex before marriage,” Robin replied dryly. “Really? He said that?” Cameron asked in surprise. “No, stupid,” Robin said as he laughed down the telephone line; “But apparently some people don’t have sex on the first date.” “How many dates have you guys had?” “Four I guess,” Robin answered gloomily. “You sound thrilled about it,” Cameron said and when Robin didn’t retort, he added; “Maybe you’ll get some frottage after date number five?” “Maybe. Listen, I need to tell you something,” Robin sounded nervous. “Ok.” “Things with my dad have kinda come to a head. I’ll be dealing with it today,” Robin said but Cameron could tell a lot of detail was being left out. “Do you need my help?” Cameron asked without a hint of humour. “I… no… Look… I’ll explain more later but I need to go,” Robin said. “Be careful,” Cameron said. “Talk to you later, ok?” Robin said. “Ok. Happy birthday, buddy.” Cameron was bored by lunch time. He’d tidied his room, hovered, gone for a walk and even done some homework. When he got a text from Vincent, he was relieved to have something to do. Vincent: [Do you want to come over?] Cameron grinned and tried to think of something witty to say in response. In the end he settled for reminding Mr Wilson of his place in their relationship. Cameron: [Are you offering to help me with my homework?] Cameron thought himself lucky to have a partner with whom he could explore domination and subservience. He was sure he didn’t always “get it right” but they both enjoyed it – the role play in particular was very exciting. Vincent: [Only the hard bits.] That made Cameron smile even more; the knowledge that Mr Wilson was happy to play his part. They made plans to meet in Mr Wilson’s flat – well the man could hardly go to the boy’s house to fuck, could he? Cameron always felt excited when he knocked on Mr Wilson’s door. Stepping over the threshold and being ushered into the flat, Cameron thought Mr Wilson looked different somehow. “Are you ok?” Cameron asked. “Yea, I’m fine. I just wanted to see you,” replied Vincent; “I’ve been thinking about missed opportunities and I wondered…” Cameron was about to interrupt the man and ask what opportunities he felt he had missed when the end of Mr Wilson’s sentence stopped him dead. “…Are you still a virgin?” “What? No,” protested Cameron as if Vincent were stupid; “We’ve had sex. Do you need a reminder?” Cameron stepped closer to the man but Vincent put hands on his own shoulders and his lover at arm’s length. “You have had sex with me,” Vincent said. Cameron just looked at him for a few seconds and then he blushed. Cameron was still a virgin. “You’re not in charge remember?” said Cameron, not unkindly. In truth, he was delighted by the prospect of his teacher fucking kocaeli escort bayan him. It was a scenario he would enjoy making Mr Wilson yearn for. He clearly already had been yearning for it. “I just thought you made me wait to see you naked. You made me wait before we had sex. I don’t want to wait so long that…” Vincent drew a long breath. “What?” Cameron asked, stepping back from his hold on the man. “Things fall apart sometimes. People… move on…” Vincent said carefully; “In a few months you’ll move on to University and then where will we be?” Cameron’s eyes narrowed, he thought about what Vincent was saying but there was something else underneath it all. Regret? Cameron nodded as he worked it out. “You’ve been thinking about your friend again. Charlie?” Cameron said. This was Vincent’s chance to come clean – not that it was a secret as such – and admit he had been in touch with his old best friend. And the first boy he had ever been in love with – perhaps it was better not to mention it to the person he was currently having sex with. “I’ve been thinking about how I’d feel if I never got to be inside you,” Vincent answered without answering. Cameron’s lips twitched into a smile. He was a seventeen year old gay boy who had been offered sex; the answer was a no brainer. Enough talk, enough thinking. “If you want to have sex with me, Mr Wilson…” Cameron said seductively; “You need to ask properly.” Vincent was prepared to beg and had already thought about how to butter up his teenage lover. “Cameron, I’ve sucked your teen cock and felt it pushed inside my man-hole. I’ve seen your boyish body and thought about you naked when you’re sitting in my class. My only regret is you not in your school uniform right now,” Vincent said as he stepped closer and put his hands back on Cameron’s shoulders – this time not to restrain but to embrace. Cameron was lapping up the adulation and the humiliation of making the man beg for sex. If he thought for a moment that shaming Mr Wilson in this way was a non-reciprocal passion, he would put an end to it but Mr Wilson was just as hard as he was. Cameron enjoyed the power and Mr Wilson enjoyed the abdication of power. In a way, Cameron could only enjoy his role because Vincent submitted to it; in a way he could only enjoy it because Vincent submitted, which in itself also gave Vincent power. “Go on,” whispered Cameron. “I want to see you naked again. I want to push my cock inside your hole…” “My young hole,” Cameron supplied helpfully. “I want to push my cock inside your young hole. I want to have sex…” “Fuck,” Cameron corrected. “I want to fuck your ass…” “My tight teenage virgin ass,” Cameron teased. “Stop interrupting me,” Vincent said assertively and then with a smile he added; “Go to my room.” Once inside Vincent’s room, three things happened very fast: 1) Cameron got naked, 2) Vincent got naked, and 3) Cameron asked himself if he should have encouraged Mr Wilson with the word “fuck.” Cameron was a virgin and was just a little bit scared that it would hurt. In the gloom of the bedroom – the thick curtains having been drawn – Cameron spoke with a slight quiver in his voice. “I’ve really never done this before,” Cameron remained him. “It’s ok if you’ve changed your mind,” Vincent said though he sounded just a little disappointed. “No. No, I still want to Mr Wilson,” Cameron replied – and the game was back on – “It’s just that I don’t want you to be too rough.” Mr Wilson nodded at the boy and then stepped toward the bed where Cameron was sat on the edge. Mr Wilson sat beside him and put an arm around the gangly teenager’s shoulder. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle,” Mr Wilson said. He rarely felt like a pervert for the things he’d done with Cameron but he felt it with those words. So quiet and conciliatory and lecherous. Cameron was not just playing the part of a schoolboy, he was one. “Have I led you astray? Have I tricked you… you’re not obliged to do this…” Vincent tried to say. “Fucksake, this is what I want. I want you. I chose this. I chose to fuck with your head in the bedroom but never forget I know exactly what I’m doing,” Cameron said – initially annoyed and then pacifying. Mr Wilson smiled and returned to the game, “You’re a good boy. Why don’t you touch me down there.” Mr Wilson still had his arm around seventeen year old, who extended his own hand and slowly put in Mr Wilson’s lap. The man was not hard – yet – but as Cameron caressed the inside of his thigh and brought his hand up to graze his testicles, the cock above it jumped. Cameron’s fingers played with the man’s pubes and teased the root of the imminent erection. “You can touch it now, Cameron,” Vincent said. “Mr Wilson, I’ve never touched one before,” Cameron said innocently. “Touch mine now.” So he did. Cameron’s touch was gentle and slow but Mr Wilson’s erection was big and hard in an instant. The man breathed heavily as blood diverted to the most important place and took blood away from the part of his anatomy that would have told him sex with a teenage schoolboy was an act of lunacy. Not an arrestable offence but it would still get him fired if anyone knew. “Keep stroking, Cameron. There’s a good boy,” Mr Wilson said. “It’s so big. Does mine get big too?” Cameron asked. Mr Wilson gripped Cameron’s dick and gave it a few long strokes. It too engorged and they both happily played with the other until precum had began to leak and ecstasy edged closer. “Maybe we should find somewhere for me to put this,” Mr Wilson said as his free hand covered Vincent’s stroking hand. “Where can you put it?” Cameron asked. Mr Wilson smeared his own precum onto a finger tip and then slipped his finger into Cameron’s mouth. The boy was momentarily surprised but recovered and sucked on the finger until the salty-sweet goo was gone. “And where else can you put it?” Cameron asked quietly. “Stand up and grab your ankles, Cameron,” Mr Wilson instructed. Cameron obeyed and in so doing proffered his peachy white ass to his teacher. Mr Wilson grabbed the boy’s hips and put his mouth to Cameron’s ass. Cameron gasped as lips kissed and sucked at his hole and then a tongue probed the sensitive sphincter, easing inside and wetting his hole. Cameron was glad he was no longer jerking off because even untouched kocaeli escort he neatly came. “Fuck me,” Cameron muttered unconsciously. When he realised what he had said, he looked back at Mr Wilson and grinned, Mr Wilson stopped pushing his face into the teen’s arse long enough to grin too. “Do you want me to fuck you, young man?” Mr Wilson asked. The man was still playing with his student’s sphincter, this time sliding a finger inside. “Oh… geez, I dunno if I should,” Cameron managed to say. He was standing upright again, the tall and gangly boy spread his own butt cheeks as he replied. “Oh I think you should. Think of it as sex education,” Mr Wilson told him. “Well, I wouldn’t want to fail any classes,” Cameron answered. “No, you need five straight A’s to get into Medicine,” Mr Wilson reminded him. “Will you give me an A, Mr Wilson?” Cameron asked. “You bet your ass, I will,” Mr Wilson replied. More than four months had passed since that fateful day when – in Malcolm’s GP surgery – Cameron had seen Vincent naked. And so began this tryst, this unconventional relationship, but a relationship never the less. Vincent had asked Cameron to come over because meeting Charlie had reminded him of what happens when you don’t act. Vincent had never told Charlie how he felt about him. In a way that worked out for the better because he fell so in love with Jake that he had wanted to marry him. And then Jake died and Vincent was alone. Relationships between losing Jake and finding Cameron had been sporadic, mostly dominant guys he’d met online who wanted someone passive with little interest in his desires – with benefits unfairly weighed toward the older men, they hadn’t lasted long. Only one man his own age had indulged in four months of play on mutually beneficial terms. Vincent felt lucky to have Cameron and his worry about what would happen to their relationship when University called him away was legitimate. But knowing the chance he had missed with Charlie was a life lesson not to miss chances again – which was why he wanted to have sex with Cameron. They could have waited, but for what? The right moment? This moment seemed pretty fucking right! Mr Wilson was rolling on a condom and Cameron laying on the bed while smearing lubricant on his hands and sliding two slippery fingers into his bum. Cameron had chosen to lie on his back – holding his legs at the knees and spreading them – so he could watch Mr Wilson while he was fucked for the first time. Although the word “fuck” had come out earlier as a correction for “have sex,” the truth was Cameron wanted the latter. He wanted he have sex, to make love; fuck sounded rough as base – Cameron felt like his first time meant more than that; his first time with anyone, but his first time with Vincent in particular. He didn’t know how to articulate his feelings for the man, it wasn’t love but it was something. It wasn’t love? “Are you ready?” Mr Wilson asked. “Come inside,” Cameron said excitedly. “Knock, knock.” Vincent pressed his cock in gently, easing the sphincter of his lover open slowly so that the boy had time to feel every stretch and press. When the head of his cock slipped in completely, he could see the surprise register on Cameron’s face. The boy felt the ridge of his mushroom head just inside him and then felt the length of the hard-on advance deeper. “How’re you doing, boy?” Mr Wilson asked. “Fucking great, sir. Oh, my…” They both smiled at each other as the pumping started. Mr Wilson’s erection slid in and out, never too fast or too slow; never too hard, but nor could a seven inch cock in a virgin’s ass be considered gentle; never too deep, but it hit the sweet spot with bulls eye accuracy. Cameron was biting his lip and moaning as Vincent kept going and the boy hadn’t realised his eyes were closed until he felt his hand being taken. He opened his eyes and found Vincent holding his hand while balls deep inside him. Vincent kissed his fingers and Cameron nodded to acknowledge he was ok. “Finish the lesson, Mr Wilson,” Cameron said. Vincent resumed his rhythmic entrance and extraction, building up in speed and force while Cameron’s face filled with joy and incomprehensible sensation. Cameron bit his lip and moaned and bounced up and down slightly on the bed while Mr Wilson built up to climax. “Oh my god, Mr Wilson!” Vincent listened to the words escape his student’s mouth at the very moment he finally came; Vincent pulled out and the pushed in very slowly. All the way to the hilt. Cum had filled the condom, making his cock warm and wet and sticky. Cameron could feel it too, but it was strange and he knew it wasn’t actually filling his ass. Vincent pulled out completely and stood up on wobbly legs. Vincent looked down to see Cameron playing slowly and intently – eyes closed again – with his cock. Without a word he dropped in front of him and put his hands on Cameron’s knees, spreading them apart. Cameron opened his eyes and had to lift his head from the bed to see Mr Wilson. “I have the most amazing view,” admitted Mr Wilson. “Describe it to me.” “With your legs spread like that I can see your newly popped cherry hole. I can see your almost hairless perineum and your balls and your cock. I can see your long, skinny legs and your long skinny boy body,” Vincent complimented. “Lick my balls, Mr Wilson” Cameron told him. Vincent obeyed. “Lick my cock. Don’t suck it. Just lick it… Nice and slow.” Vincent’s tongue lapped the length of the quivering joystick, particularly the frenulum where the cock was so sensitive that the outcome was inevitable. Cameron didn’t shoot into Mr Wilson’s mouth, rather the cum exploded all over his face. It was a deluge of hot spunk that abated only after a final few weaker shots. Vincent licked the cum off his lips and grinned at Cameron. “You’ve got a little something just here,” Cameron laughed as he pointed to the side of his face. Vincent laughed too and reared up to lean over and kiss Cameron, who squirmed to get away from the face covered in his own cum. But there was no escape and soon he was just as messy as Mr Wilson was. They lay beside each other after that and Vincent asked the necessary question; “Your first time then… did you enjoy it?” Cameron smiled sleepily; “I’m glad you were my first, Vincent.” So rarely did Cameron call him by his first name, he felt genuinely touched. It was reward for a job well done. “Me too, Cameron.” “This is a day I wouldn’t mind doing all over again,” Cameron admitted. “I got you, babe,” Vincent said as he drew Cameron into a sleeping embrace; “I got you…”

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