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Subject: Premiership Lads part 24: Bad Bromance Part twenty-four: Bad Bromance Paul Dummett stepped out of his Uber taxi and out onto the sidewalk on the leafy fringe of Newcastle’s northern suburbs, and let the car door swing shut behind him. He hiked his backpack up over one shoulder and looked down the tree-lined street, unable to remember the number of the Carroll house, but knowing from memory of which the grandiose gateways on the avenue was Andy’s. He dawdled down the pavement with a mix of nervous hesitation and building excitement, eventually reaching the open gateway onto the gravel drive, leading up to the sandstone semi-detached. Andy’s motor was on the drive, but not the wife’s � of course. Paul tugged a hand into the pocket of his hoody, shivered, and made his way up the driveway with a steady crunch under his Converse, dressed in skinny fit black jeans and layers of t-shirts for warmth, a beanie pulled partway down his head. He hadn’t been here in a while, and only ever once or twice: when the pair of them hung out beyond footy work, it tended to be at Dummett’s apartment, a wife-free zone of video games and takeaway. But here he was, on a blustery January afternoon. He got up to the house’s big red-painted front door, and laughed for a moment at the grandiose brass knocker, and reached instead for the bell. He pushed a button and it chimed within, and he stamped his feet anxiously on the mat. It took a moment before footsteps sounded through the thick doorway, and then a series of clicks and creaks, and the door was opening. Andy was in baggy jogging bottoms and a vest, showing the blasting warmth of good central heating within, and his long dark hair was up in a man bun as always, pulled back tightly away from his anxious looking sharp-featured face as he gave a nod of welcome. `Alreet,’ he muttered quietly in the half-open doorway. `Hey,’ Paul said, returning the nod. `Can I come in then, or am I gonna fuckin’ freeze out here…?’ Andy looked at him in a slightly shifty way, then his eyes flicked to the bag strap over his shoulder. `Did you bring the stuff?’ he asked in a low, conspiratorial voice, his hand resting nervously on the doorframe. Paul glanced at the bulge of his arm muscles for a dangerous moment, then pulled his eyes away and nodded again, more firmly. `Sure… it’s all in here. You okay, mate?’ `Aye… aye… Well, come on in…’ Andy stepped aside a bit and pulled on the door to open it more fully. Paul tried to give him a softly reassuring look, but the bigger bloke glanced sharply away. Dummett breathed in deeply, and took a step inside, ready to confront the problem. It had started a few hours earlier in the midst of training, running about in the wind and rain and trying to muster up some positive atmosphere amongst the slightly downtrodden ranks of Newcastle’s squad. A lot of the guys had been pretty gloomy after recent results, but Andy had come in that morning looking completely on edge: perhaps this was less noticeable to the other lads, but Paul had spotted the funny mood immediately. And then he had watched Carroll repeatedly lose it with other lads on the field, snapping at teammates and coaches at every moment of bad luck or every little mistake. Paul didn’t need to be psychic to spot a real blow-up coming, and he had taken a 5-minute breather to grab his big pal by the arm and tug him away from the others a moment. `What the hell is up to you?’ he hissed, a harsh warning, but his eyes full of concern. At first, Andy had been evasive. But he had appreciated the attention, and calmed down a little bit, and eventually followed Paul’s advice and quitted training a little early before he got carried away, making excuses and heading inside to dry off. For the last half hour of training, Dummett had struggled to concentrate, really worrying what had freaked out his close mate so much. As soon as the whistle blew on the morning session, he’d broken away from the group, and found Andy drying himself off after a shower in the corner of the changing rooms. `Hey… mate… what’s up?’ `Nowt, nowt… sorry mate, just losing my cool today…’ `Yeah, you can say that again. But why? What’s got you so… agitated?’ Andy had given him a really intense look and there was definitely a moment where the confession might have slipped by, but they were alone in this quiet corner, and that trusting bond was still there between them. That was when Andy, sat recovering from his hot shower, had confided all, and Paul had listened wide-eyed. `There’s some shit I didn’t tell you,’ Carroll had explained. `About why my missus was getting all weird with me, with that… that… that fuckin’ TOY, mate…’ And it had all come out then. Paul had always wondered what the big factors were in his mate’s return to the North East. Okay, there were a dozen obvious reasons, and the regional pride was strong, but it was still an odd kinda transfer, the way things were at the Toon these days. And here was the truth: big Andy had been cheating on his new wife down there, and it had all got messy. Moving up here had been real marriage-saving emergency shit, it turned out. Paul nodded along sympathetically, holding back his surprise and steering his mate through the awkward tale. And that got them to the real problem. `So she’s still punishing me, you see?’ Andy had said in an urgent whisper. `All this kinky stuff, it isn’t that she’s… like, wild, or anything, it’s just… she’s trying to be powerful, show me who’s boss. And fuckin’ hell I deserve it, I almost ruined things down south.’ Paul had patted his bar arm sympathetically and listened out for the sounds of the others spilling into the changing rooms, knowing their privacy was very temporary. `Okay, okay, but… you coped with that silly toy, mate… This will all be grand. I’m sure she’ll start to trust you again soon, and…’ `You don’t know it all, man,’ Andy protested in a troubled mutter. `She’s got this new idea into her head, and seriously…’ A big, rough sigh. `I think it might be kink too far for me, seriously, man.’ `Huh? Well… what… Mate, what are you on about?’ `She really wants to punish me for being a fuckin’ prick. Why did I mess up and cheat?’ `Mate, mate, what are you talking about? What is it she wants to…?’ Andy had given him a real pleading look, way too childish and innocent for a man of his stature, and then leaned in really close to whisper his alarmed question. `Paul, buddy, you ever heard of something called pegging?’ The pair sat down in the big living room of Andy’s family home, and the tall Geordie striker bit on his nails in silent thought, whilst Paul settled on the adjacent sofa and placed his backpack down on the couch next to him. `Cheers for coming over, mate,’ Andy said eventually, giving him a look of real gratitude, and tugging a bit at the straps of his vest top. `I… I really do appreciate it.’ `Any time,’ Paul said earnestly. `And… yeh. I brought the stuff I mentioned.’ He patted the backpack next to him. `I reckon this might help you out, you know. If you want it to.’ Andy looked at him again, still grateful, but there was unmistakable curiosity on his big honest face. `I guess I just got a bit curious after hearing about that nonsense of yours I broke,’ he said with a strained chuckle. `Thought I’d buy one or two things, but… never got round to trying them.’ Another nervous laugh. mersin escort Well, what could he say? This is borrowed kit from DeAndre Yedlin, the world’s horniest explorer? `That toy was so little, though,’ Andy mumbled. `Sure, it felt mad, but…’ `Yeah,’ Paul agreed quietly. `This strap-on sounds… well… a bit much.’ `I thought she was kidding the other night,’ Andy confessed, `but she’s brought it up twice more, then she fucking springs THAT on me this morning as I’m leaving for footy, and…’ He tutted and shook his head, and then slapped his knees decisively. `You wanna see it??’ `What? Oh � yeah, I guess…’ They got up, and Andy led him upstairs. Paul had been round here twice, but never upstairs, and there was a little bit of thrill just in that. He was led into the big master bedroom across the back of the house, a cluttered den of feminine furnishing, the air a little fragranced, and so little mark of Andy’s inhabitation. The vest-clad striker was strutting over the room to go through some underwear drawers as Paul dawdled into the centre of the room and sat at the foot of the big king-size. Andy whirled about with the object in his hands, and their eyes met, and they couldn’t help but let out wary laughs. It was like that first shared secret, looking at the boxed toy and its insane remote control, except… this was another level. Paul was only vaguely aware of strap-ons, as a lesbian thing, and he’d only recently heard the word `pegging’ for the first time in a jokey conversation with his old local schoolmates just before Christmas. He stared at the leathery black straps in Andy’s hands, and the dangling, rubbery monster protruding from what must be the front of the, er, device. So a woman would wear that and… wow. `Yeah,’ Andy said, seeing his expression and his intimidated reaction. `God,’ Paul murmured, `you’re right. She really does want to punish you.’ `Apparently it’s this big thing,’ Carroll mumbled, `she read articles about it… Some fuckin’ trend of women punishing their adulterous fuckin’ men, and… Well yeah. Guilty as charged.’ He tossed it back on top of the drawers with what was a show of manly dismissal, but Paul could see the fear on his face. He reached about for the backpack which he’d brought up with them, and slipped off his hoody, feeling the warmth of the house catch up with him after the outside chill. He unzipped the bag, and pulled its contents out onto the bedding to his side, and Andy slowly joined him, sitting down beside him and inspecting the three items. Paul turned them over with clumsy, anxious fingers, briefly reminiscing about his experimenting evening on Yedders’ bed: one of the three was that very pink vibrator, which DeAndre had insisted he take since he enjoyed it `so much’. There were two other things: a bigger, dark purple toy, notably longer and thicker than the vibrating pink one, and a string of anal beads. `I think you would start with these,’ he said quietly, tapping the lurid turquoise balls of rubbery plastic, and he watched Andy’s expression of bewilderment. `They would… erm… ease you in a bit.’ `Uh… Right.’ `And then those two toys are… you know. A bit more serious, but… I’m sure you can handle it mate.’ He gave the big man a squeeze on the shoulder. `You’re up to any challenge, right? And… you got to do what you got to do to keep her, I guess.’ The fucking bitch, he added in his head, irritated on Andy’s behalf to think of her demands, her neediness… how dare she reduce this great man to such demeaning lows? He bit back his own excitement at the scenario she had produced. `Right, erm, aye… thanks for all this. You’re a good mate.’ He gave Paul a really intense look then, and the Geordie defender wondered if this was his cue to go, if Andy really wanted to start trying things out now, or was expecting the family home soon, but… `I really shouldn’t ask this of you, man, but…’ Andy leaned in really close, and put his hand on Paul’s. `Will you stay with me? While I… try? It’s just… you were so helpful with that… thing, so…’ Dummett gawped at him, shocked and thrilled but also worried. `I can do,’ he said slowly, trying to compose himself, `but… Are you sure you want that? This is pretty… private stuff.’ Andy scoffed a bit, scratched at his neck, flexed his shoulders. `Mate, things got pretty… private on New Years, didn’t they?’ Paul blushed guiltily, and remembered his hand on that big meat, the awkward closeness of the cubicle, the side-by-side wanks they’d enjoyed, and… `Yeh,’ he mumbled back. `I know what you mean. But still…’ `I shouldn’t have asked,’ Andy muttered immediately, leaning away slightly. `It was a stupid idea, I’m sorry…’ `No, no,’ Paul said urgently. `I’ll stay. I’ll… help.’ Their eyes met again and both blokes gave a slow nod. Andy got up off the bed, and Paul sighed in a daze, feeling like he was lost in some vague fantasy he’d only half-consciously known he felt. Was this really happening? He shifted on the bed in his jeans, watched his mate slowly shut the bedroom door, and then go to the big bay windows in front of them to do the curtain, as if anybody could really see in here anyway. In here… the master bedroom. Paul felt so intrusive just being here, on the bed where Andy and his missus must make love, and where she might soon try and use that monstrosity on him… yikes. And then Andy was beside him, giving him a grateful rub on the shoulder, and picking up the stick of anal beads with a mystified expression. `I don’t think it’s as creepy as it looks,’ Paul said uncertainly. `Well I’m not sure owt is!’ Andy laughed back, bravado covering up his boyish fear. `You got some lube?’ Dummett asked him. Andy nodded, passed the beads to him, and went back over to the drawers, fishing out a tacky looking tube of some kinda slightly sparkly gel, crap from the till of some out-of-town sex shop, by the look of it. Paul momentarily wondered if Mrs Carroll had visited the same sex emporiums for her kit as DeAndre frequented, but that was silly… he knew Yedlin got everything online. Maybe everyone did. He toyed with the beads in his hands, and watched Andy very slowly, indecisively fingering the waistband of his jogging bottoms. `Mate,’ Andy said, `I know this is probably way too much, but…’ He stood there, huffing a bit, then came out with it. `Would you put that thing in? Like… you just seemed to… know what you were doing when it was…’ He was going red as he asked it. Paul just got up and patted his arm, and nodded silent agreement. `Right,’ Andy said after a giddy moment more of silence. `How do we do this?’ `Well,’ Paul said thoughtfully, `I don’t think you wanna… watch me at it. So… erm. Hands and knees?’ `Doggy style,’ Andy put it bluntly, again aiming for humour over open nervousness. `Fucking hell, eh?’ `You’re gonna be right out of the doghouse if you can satisfy her with this,’ Paul quipped, giggling nervously, feeling unsure of the whole plan. `Erm… get on the bed, then?’ He laughed at his own potentially dominant instruction, undermined by his voice and expression. The stocky Geordie rubbed at his face, as if pinching himself out of this surreal fantasy, and he watched Andy laugh it off yet comply. The tall, muscular lad kept his vest on, but dropped his joggers and then his boxer shorts, stepping out of them: long legs bared and flexing, escort mersin that big soft dick swinging at the front, and then his muscular behind on show. Andy climbed unceremoniously onto the bed in doggy style, as he put it, and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he did so. Paul echoed him with more anxious giggles of his own. This was madness. He climbed onto the bed on his knees, and took the anal beads in one hand like a magic wand, and squeezed a bit of the naff (scented? Flavoured…?) lube onto the top few, and then patted that hand gently against the tight muscle of Andy’s cheeks. This was a mad exaggeration of that first inappropriate intimacy, helping to push the much smaller toy up there in a shower cubicle at St James’ Park… Fuck, how had it got to this? But it had, and… wow, Andy’s arse was a masterpiece. Paul realised he was stroking the cheek very softly and staring at it for who knows how long. `Erm… you ready?’ he asked. `No,’ Andy said bluntly, `but… give it a go.’ Paul steadied himself, took a deep breath, and pulled a bit on those firm glutes, looking at the hairy valley between them, then pushing the rounded tip of the beads in. He heard the giggling exclamation from Andy, and stroked it as gently as possible down over his hole, taking this slow. He rubbed gently at the cheek to try and relax or comfort him, whilst pushing the beads along his crack with a tiny bit more force. `How’s that?’ he asked breathlessly. `Weird, obviously… but, er, keep going…’ `Right, aye…’ He pushed on, and soon he could feel some vague response from that tight hole that he’d so briefly fingered last time, and his own cock twinged excitedly as he felt the beads start to enter. He went slowly, letting the first little ball of plastic slide inside, and taking a good pause before trying the second. Andy made little yelps at each push forward. Once the first three little beads were in, Paul pulled back on them slowly, and then pushed in again, letting them massage and loosen. His cock was already rock hard in his jeans at this. `Thanks for this,’ Andy’s trembling voice came from beyond his hunched shoulderblades. Paul didn’t answer � what the fuck could he say? Any time mate, this is my wildest dream! Instead, he just pushed in a fourth bead, left them there a moment, and then dragged them back out in a slow, teasing motion: an appreciative shudder ran through Andy’s big body in front of him, and he couldn’t help but give his own dick a brief grab through the denim. Once the beads were out, he dropped them onto the bedding, glistening with lube. `I’m gonna erm, try the next one, mate…’ he whispered. Why did they both feel the need to drop their voices so low, with the house to themselves? The secrecy of it all was impossibly exciting, it was driving Paul bad. He just wanted to plant his lips on one of those fluffy cheeks and kiss it, bite it. He resisted, and picked up the second toy, the vibrator he had tentatively experimented with (thoroughly cleaned!) and squirted a bit of lube onto it. Then he pressed its cool tip against Andy’s hole, into the forest of his crack, and shuffled his knees forward a bit to give him leverage. `Oh, fuck,’ Carroll grunted. `Is it bad?’ Paul asked in concern. `It’s… it feels MASSIVE, but… ugh… just, go easy, man…’ `I will, I will.’ Paul reached his spare hand in a few affectionate squeezes up the taut muscle of the buttock and onto Andy’s lower back, sliding under the black fabric of his vest a bit, balancing on his strong back muscles as he gave the toy a few experimental thrusts against Andy’s behind and then flicked on the power, very lightly, so soft vibrations were tingling between the buttocks. Andy let out a phew little `whoas’ in reaction, and Paul coughed dryly, feeling intensely excited even as the same vibrations ran up his forearm. He’d promised to go easy, and he really fucking wanted to, but he cou;dn’t do more without a bit of a push, so… `Ahhh,’ Andy groaned out, throwing his head back a bit, some long hairs loosening from his bun, his legs shaking a bit as Paul felt the tip of the vibrating toy enter that tight passage. `OH…’ `Relax, relax,’ he gasped hopefully, feeling Andy’s back arch and those powerful legs almost buckle. He pushed his hand further up Carroll’s spine, rubbing gently at the tensed muscles, pulling his own legs closer behind him as he did, glancing down at his straining, awkward boner, feeling himself sweat excitedly under two tshirts. The bed strained beneath their knees. `Relax?’ Andy gasped. `It feels so big…’ `That strap-on is bigger,’ Paul pointed out frankly, glancing over to the dubious black tangle and its obvious weapon. `Trust me… this will be okay…’ If only I could admit I know from experience, he thought, as he eased it a bit further in, and felt Andy opening up for the gently vibrating toy; he flicked the dial at its base and let its tremors strengthen, then slid it back and forth a little, nudging it deeper. It was already a little further in than he’d managed himself, he realised, with a guilty or jealous pang, emotions were hard to pin down right now. `Aye,’ Andy grumbled, burying his face in the bedding atop his arms, and letting out a whining groan of pleasure or pain or both. `Oh mate… it’s… too much…’ Paul slid off the vibrations and felt Andy relax against him in relief, that big strong arse pushing back towards him a little. He had to bite his lip to hold in a yelp of desire. He worked Andy’s backside a little more with the first couple of inches then tried to thrust deeper. `I think,’ Dummett gasped thickly, `it will be… gentler if you… get on your back…?’ He did kinda think this, but he also wanted to see more. He slid the toy back out fully, squirting more lube on it, and felt the bed creak and groan more as Andy flipped round with a weary moan. Their eyes met across the bedding. Andy yanked his vest up and off, perhaps too hot, so he was now lying stark bollock naked. He lifted and parted his big legs, and between them, his cock was semi and flopped back against his naval above swollen balls. Paul leaned one hand on a sweat-streaked shin and reached down to try this different angle, pressing the toy once more to Andy’s slicked crack. He stared over the bruised, grazed knee in front of him and met Andy’s gaze properly, watching that tight-lipped expression of nervous determination, then the open-mouthed gasp as he entered him with the vibrator. Fucking hell, he wished there was no toy, just his own fingers inside the big man… Jesus… `Mmm,’ Andy groaned with more open response, seeming to squeeze his eyes shut and grind his head back against the tangle of sheets and pillows. Sweat was pricking his brow and neck and the tensed pectorals below. His nipples looked like bullets. Before he could stop himself, Paul reached up Andy’s six pack and tweaked one then the other. Andy gasped and opened his eyes to stare at him in silent shock. Paul just let out an anxious laugh, and pushed the toy deeper, feeling most of its length entering the powerful man beneath him. `We need to try the bigger one,’ Dummett breathed out, leaning forward a bit more so one of Andy’s legs dangled over his shoulder now, warm and heavy to the side of his neck. He ran his left hand over Andy’s hard nipples again and then traced the muscle definition back down his side. The hard body mersin escort bayan trembled beneath his touch. He pulled the toy away and let it slide off his fingers onto the bedsheets, and he scrabbled about behind him for the third toy, the thicker purple dildo, and he held it up like a weapon, and Andy’s eyes widened. `That’ll be too much,’ he protested, and Paul stared at it too � it really looked too much. He’d grabbed it in over-excitement from Yedlin’s collection, and then just stared at in horror when he got home. Its girth was really what had put him off trying any of them any further, after that feverish excitement in DeAndre’s bed. `I ain’t taking that,’ Andy exclaimed hotly, propping himself up a little on elbows, his whole body tensing. `But she is gonna fuck you,’ Paul murmured, and he let the oversized toy fall away too, and then unconsciously, his right hand returned to the prize: slipping under Andy’s loaded balls to rub down his gooch and then fingering the loosened hole with one then two digits. Andy groaned out in more overt pleasure, yowling at the eager finger-fucking, and then seeming to realise it was no manmade toy this time. Paul stored worriedly at him and paused with two fingers in his friend’s hole. `Oh god,’ Carroll panted ambiguously. `Mate…’ `How does it feel?’ Paul demanded in a breathy moan. `I dunno,’ Andy cried, but both his face and his now throbbing dick seemed to answer more decisively. Paul worked him more slowly with his lubed up fingers, almost falling forwards on top of him in excitement. He kept expecting those big powerful legs to kick at him, to push him away, to reject his changed approach, but Andy was just staring intensely at him, and panting out his arousal. And then Carroll looked over to the top of the chest of drawers where the black strap-on rose from its tangled thong, a looming threat of his wife’s desire to punish. It wasn’t quite so monstrous as the purple one, they both realised together, but it was big: distinctly bigger than the vibrating pink thing which Dummett had managed to almost fully insert. `Try it with that,’ Andy suggested in a voice feeble with stimulated pleasure. `I can’t put it on,’ Paul pointed out obviously. But a truth was breaking for him: he recognised the size and stature of the plastic phallus as fairly familiar. `I can’t really do that, mate, can I…?’ He let his fingers pull teasingly out of Andy’s twitching hole, and stroked them gently back up his gooch to tickle his balls from below. Andy whimpered and sighed. `No,’ he agreed in a moan, `that’s true… fuck… You think I’ll be ready for her…?’ `Nearly,’ Paul murmured sensuously. `But… I know how we can… really… prepare you…’ Andy’s eyes questioned him intently. He gulped, and squeezed his package gently, and murmured the glaring truth out loud: `I’m about the same size as that one, mate. I reckon my dick is really similar to that plastic thing she wants to use on you.’ Things went silent. Andy lay there, legs in the air, one hand grasping at bedsheets, the other sliding down his abs to begin playing with his big, rock hard cock. Paul rubbed his fingers from bollocks to gooch to crack, and hovered on his knees, squatted down between Andy’s strong calves. And then Andy grunted out his determined answer. `Do it,’ he said, through gritted teeth, `just do it, mate…’ Paul didn’t need to hear this twice. He tugged his tshirts up and off with fingers damp and sticky with lube and Andy’s scents, baring his chunky but less defined upper body, his faintly hairy trail from chest to crotch. He struggled with the button fly of his jeans, so rushed and eager. But soon he was dragging them down his thighs, and pulling his silky boxer briefs down enough for his nob to flop out, absolutely trembling with lust. `Have you got a condom?’ he asked in a giddy voice, that sounded so polite and silly in this surreal sweaty mess of the Carroll’s marriage bed. `What? Fuck, no… Just DO IT…’ So he did. He pushed down, lifting Andy’s legs up more, and pressed his swollen red cock head in between those taut cheeks, just as two toys and his exploring fingers had, and felt Andy’s hairy tightness against his own prick. Oh man, this was so good, this was insane… Andy’s surprised or worried groans at his size were gratifying, electrifying. Paul mounted his best mate as carefully as he could, squeezing himself into the wet hole and lifting his shaking body over Carroll’s muscular form. He grabbed both calves to his sides for balance, and began to fuck. Shagging lasses had always felt strangely mechanical to Paul, something not quite right. But this… This was pure pleasure. The tightness of Andy’s arse opening about his meat, the muscular power beneath him, the handsome face of pleasure staring up at him. `OH MATE,’ he yelled out, as he pounded Andy into the sweaty sheets of the king-size bed, `ohhhh…’ Beneath him, Andy Carroll was wanking off furiously, one arm absolutely bulging with muscle as he pounded his cock and his body shook with each clumsy, needy thrust of Paul’s strong hips. The bed creaked and strained. And then the big lad was cumming. Paul felt streaks of Carroll’s load splash his stomach, and then saw them cascade back on the reddened skin of Andy’s own six pack… wow… This was enough to drive him over the edge. He pulled his dick out of Andy’s backside, reached up on his knees, and jerked his own member wildly until splashes of his juices were mixing with Andy’s in the furrows of his abdomen. Both men panted and gasped wildly. Paul fell forward, just careful enough not to collapse onto Andy’s lanky frame, but tumbling aside onto the sheets, head spinning, cock aching. He reached a hand over clumsily and slapped it gently against one heaving pectoral, feeling the red heat of Andy’s skin, and stroking it softly in comfort or reassurance, or maybe just his own desire. His frenzied excitement was fading with his boner, and so too was his brief spate of confidence in what he’d done. It took him a while to twist his head, tearing his eyes from the ceiling to look at Andy, who slowly did the same. `You enjoyed that, didn’t you?’ Carroll asked with a puff of breath. Paul cowered at the question, unsure what to admit, though denying it seemed impossible now. He looked at Andy’s face carefully: the big lad looked surprised, yes, but not angry or judgemental. Mostly he looked wiped out by the intensity of it all. Paul stroked his chest a bit, and made a face that he hoped conveyed his own confusion. `It’s okay,’ Andy added, quietly. `I guess I needed to try it, huh?’ And he reached over himself and patted Paul’s lightly furred chest, their naked bodies inches apart on the bed. `Did I hurt you?’ Paul asked gently. `Nah,’ Andy said, though with a touch of uncertainty. `It was just… Well. It was mad.’ Mad could mean a lot of things, Paul reflected. He looked away from Andy’s calm, satisfied expression, and took in the feminine touches of the room, reminded whose bed this also was. Well, that was a new high or a new low, depending whose standards or moral compass you were using. Paul could feel shame and regret dithering on the edge of his consciousness, but for now he enjoyed the afterglow. `Mad, aye,’ he agreed in a murmur. `Totally mad.’ Andy nudged him softly with his elbow, and looked over at him again, with the same mixed expression of weary satisfaction and totally overwhelmed shock. He let out a ragged, breathy laugh, and just said one word before pushing himself up and off the bed to shower. `Thankyou.’ **HAPPY 2020 – HOPE YOU’RE ALL STILL ENJOYING THE STORIES… WHAT DO YOU WANT TO SEE NEXT??**
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