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pulled off a bit and swirled his tongue around the head of my cock, looking up at me while he did it, ’cause he knows that drives me crazy. It was great, but I wanted to touch Larry. I wanted to make him feel good too.
    “Turn around,” I said. “Put your arse in my face.”
    Larry scrambled round on the bed till he had his knees either side of my chest. Then he bent down and put his mouth on my cock again. It was magic, him sucking me off with his pretty little arse in my face. I could feel the muscles flexing as I grabbed hold of his arse cheeks, and when I shoved my tongue in his crack, his hand tightened on the base of my cock so hard I nearly came right then.
    I knew I was getting to him, ’cause when I started rimming Larry, he pulled off my cock again and went, “Oh God!” really breathy. I kept licking him, and he kept panting, and he was working away at my cock with his hand, but all jerky, like he couldn’t control what he was doing.
    I felt really close, and I wasn’t sure if he’d mind if I came all over his face, so I said, “Jerk yourself off while I rim you,” and he took his hand off my cock and put it on his, and then he was coming straight away, his whole body shaking. I had to hold his hips really tight so I could keep my tongue on him.
    When he’d finished he said, “Oh God!” again, and then he sort of flopped down on me and put his mouth on my cock again, and he only had to suck three times before I came.
     
     
    We had bacon and eggs for breakfast. Mum reckons it’s not healthy, but we only have it on days off, so I guess it’s okay. And it makes the kitchen smell great. I made sure the yolks were all runny ’cause Larry likes to dip his toast in. “You know what we haven’t done?” Larry asked when we’d nearly finished.
    I didn’t say nothing ’cause there was lots of stuff we hadn’t done. I hoped Larry didn’t want to get into weird shit like PVC, ’cause that stuff gives me a rash.
    “We’ve never gone punting!” Larry said, and he smiled at me.
    I smiled back, ’cause I was kind of relieved.
    “We should get a picnic together and go—it’s a glorious day out there,” Larry said. Then he frowned. “Unless it’s a bit too much like a busman’s holiday for you?”
    “Nah,” I said, ’cause we can walk down to the river easy from Larry’s house. We don’t need to take a bus.
    “Excellent! Tell you what, I’ll go to Marks and Spencer’s and get in some supplies. Got to do things properly!”
    I wasn’t sure what he meant by doing things properly. When my mum used to take me and my sister on picnics, she just used to make ham sandwiches and bung them in a bag. She used the square pink ham you get from Sainsbury’s, not the posh stuff Larry buys that tastes like real meat. So I thought it was probably good he didn’t want me to do the shopping.
    When Larry came back from Marks and Spencer’s, he had four bags of stuff. Some of them was clinking. “I got some champagne, to go with the strawberries,” he said. He looked really happy about it, so I didn’t tell him I don’t like fizzy wine much. There was so much stuff that in the end we decided just to take the champagne and strawberries and have a picnic on the Backs after we’d taken the punt back, ’cause you’re not supposed to moor punts up or nothing.
    When we went down to Scudamore’s, my boss said, “Bleedin’ ’ell, I thought we were getting a break from your ugly mug today.” I laughed, but Larry didn’t. My boss let us jump the queue for punts, though, so Larry cheered up a bit then.
    I thought Larry’d want me to do the punting, but he grabbed the pole and got up on the back of the punt. “Haven’t done this in years,” he said. He was smiling like he was all excited to be doing it again. “Wonder if I’ve still got the knack?”
    I had to smile too, ’cause he looked even littler with a great big pole in his hands. Then I thought about that some more and I started to get a