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Four minutes and eight seconds later, when I was sure I didn’t need the toilet, I answered.Me.Max. :)And then, satisfied I’d effectively communicated my desire to keep in touch, I tucked my phone back in my pocket and got on with my work.

Hi:)

I waited another two days before I sent that one. A lot of thought went into getting the tone just right. Friendly, but not too keen. Caspian replied very quickly, which I interpreted as a good sign.

Hi, Max! What are you up to? :)

Lying in bed. :)

He didn’t answer straight away, although the typing dots appeared. After one minute and twenty-eight seconds, he wrote;

Mmm… just lying in bed? ;-)

The winky face suggested a joke. Unsure what, I kept to the facts.I’m also eating a Brie sandwich.

Nice!

Oh good, he liked Brie.In my ranking of cheese, Brie came second. After Comte but before Mimolette.

What would you be doing if, you know, I came and joined you?

I’d finish my sandwich quickly so as not to be rude because I hadn’t made you one.

Lol! And if you didn’t have a sandwich…???

I scratched my head. Was this some sort of test?Make myself one,I typed eventually.

His answer to that second item of factual information was to knock on my door ten minutes later. He was underdressed for the chilly evening, but I let it pass because he wore a gorgeous blue sweatshirt with a picture of a black English Labrador (mean adult weight 29.4 kilos) on it.

“Any of that Brie left?” His smile matched his emoticons. I hoped he’d come over for more sex, so I was slightly disappointed he only wanted food. At least until he stepped through the door and stroked a light hand down the front of my favourite pyjamas. His fingers stopped just above my belly button, which was quite suggestive.

Perhaps he’d already changed his mind about the Brie. I hoped so. I hadn’t catered for two.

“These look cosy,” he said.

“They are,” I answered. “Made by Ralph Lauren. 23 percent Egyptian cotton and 77 percent silk. Éti bought me them at Christmas.”

“You didn’t strike me as a Ralph Lauren pyjama kind of guy.” His fingers walked down from my belly button and across to my hip, making my penis grow heavy between my legs. “You have hidden depths, Max.”

Up until now, I concentrated on one of his perfectly curved earlobes, but I quickly glanced at his eyes. They were on my mouth. His wandering fingers suddenly made sense.

“You didn’t come here for a cheese sandwich, did you?”

Those fingers swerved inwards, and he laughed in a way that made my penis even harder. “Do you have any idea how cute you are?” he whispered, like he didn’t want my dog to hear.

“No,” I whispered back, seeing as that’s what we were doing now.

“Good.” The backs of his fingers slipped inside my loose pyjamas. He ran them down the length of my penis, and I gasped. “Don’t ever change.”

All the breath left my throat as I kissed him. A greedy surge of need made me overlook checking his consent status, but his hand was on my penis. As our mouths smashed together, the other hooked around the back of my neck, pulling me down in a non-verbal yes. All the hard parts of his body pushed into mine as if he was trying to climb into it. His fist glided down my erection.

“Christ, your kissing is a hell of a lot better than your sexting,” he panted, as he pulled away. “And all of this…” He cupped my balls and tugged on them. “You are one big, gorgeous boy, Max.”

“Man,” I corrected.

As he nuzzled his nose along my jaw, he whispered again. “Do you mind if I kneel and take a closer look?”

Mon dieu, his grin up at me was so fucking sexy, and his mouth on my penis washot. As a keen student of pornography, I thought I knew what to expect, but pornography hadn’t prepared me for the noises Caspian would make. Like he was eating fleur de sel ice cream for the very first time. Or that he’d take his time peppering my dick with a hundred kisses before sucking, his lips working up to my leaky head and then swooshing down the length, all the way to the thin sensitive skin where it met the top of my balls. And his tongue was so soft, even softer than the fabric of my expensive pyjamas.

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