Mutually Experimental [BxB]

babe

The next morning, Sam stumbled into the kitchen all bleary-eyed and untidy with his beautiful blonde hair sticking out in all directions like a bird's nest. Clay looked up from the food he was laying out and smiled. "Good morning mate."

Sam grunted, scooting a chair back to sit, the dark bags beneath his eyes more pronounced as his lips thinned into a frown. "What happened last night?"

Clay poured some boiling water into a cup, ripping off the sachet of Nescafe coffee beside the green flask. "You dozed off on me during the final episode of Glee. I couldn't hoist you to your apartment all on my own." he pushed a plateful towards Sam.

"When did you prepare all these?" Sam asked, surprise etched on his brows as he dug in fervently, biting off a chicken leg. "Mmh, this tastes good."

"Here's coffee," Clay said, handing him a mug. "Careful, it’s steaming. And to answer your question, I woke up quite early to set this up while you were curled up asleep. Now eat up."

They tucked into their platefuls for a while, focusing on the food with Sam pausing occasionally to comment on how delicious the food was while making appreciative noises. Clay was hungry having worked since four o'clock in the morning, cooking and setting the living room into a more tidy and fresh state. Minutes ticked past as they cleared up their plates with impressive speed.

"That was amazing, thanks." Sam told him once more, placing his empty plate in the sink and lifted his eyes to meet Clay's. "Have you always been this good?"

Clay swallowed the few pieces of meat he was chewing before replying. "I happened to do a culinary course at college, fell in love with it and ran back home to get my Mom to teach me more."

"Glad I won't have to cook ever again," Sam smirked for it was going to be easy being lazy with Clay's culinary skills next door. In that case, Clay was quite a package and Sam began to seriously look forward to their experimentation as he also wanted to find out if Clay's cooking skills were good in bed too.

"Do you want seconds?" Clay asked, face flushed as he gestured his left hand to the pot.

"I'm full, but a glass of water won't hurt." Sam held out his emptied cup of coffee.

"Sure." Clay took it from him and dropped it carefully in the sink, opened the refrigerator to retrieve the juice jug and poured it into a new glass. He took it into the living room where Sam sprawled, a pillow under his head, his long legs stretched out horizontally on the suede couch.

"I feel battered." he lamented, taking the juice Clay offered. "Too much football and weight lifting. Ouch."

"You play football? Wow, was it training or match?" Clay sat across from him, sipping from his cup of coffee before pushing his knees up to wrap his arms around them.

"We had two matches yesterday. Train mostly on Tuesdays." Sam explained. "I just play with the other blokes around. We formed our league team and normally play against local villages. Yesterday we had two matches because we couldn't shift the second one today. Everyone would be busy with their respective works."

"Did you guys win both matches?"

"One actually. Thrashed them. But the second match ended with a tie so the other team won by a penalty kick. I'm so tired from all the running and shouting." he groaned.

"Me too, my back is killing me from bending so much." Clay said. "I had to finish tidying up this morning and setting breakfast. Unlike you, I've got more solid reasons as to why I'm aching."

"I normally don't attend training on Tuesdays else I'm bored so that explains why I ache so bad right now." Sam lounged further back, lifting his legs on the couch. Clay's eyes strayed down his shirt, the outline of his hard chest as they stretched the shirt to its limit, down to the bulge in his jeans.

"What do you do on weekdays?"

"Carpentry." Sam held the glass between his thighs and turned to look at him. "I'm an apprentice but I also do pizza deliveries as a part-time job. So if I'm not attending a class at the vocational institute, I'm at Dons Pizza and Pastries." he began drawing light circles on the glass surface. "What about you? What do you do?"

"Writing." Clay grinned. "I write for an app called w*****d and get paid too. Good money, easy earning."

Sam shifted his position, groaning as he reached behind him to touch his back muscles and squeezed. Clay felt bad for him. "I'm really sorry about my hard sofa. Tina had a bad taste in furniture. I'm hoping to get a new one next week after I'm paid."

"No worries, I could sleep on your bed." Sam smirked, the challenge in his eyes visible.

Clay felt blood rush up his warm cheeks, and a sharp jolt of nerves burst in his chest, his d**k attentive. He opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off.

"Alright, let's do this." he pushed himself off the couch and held out his hand to Clay, still smiling wistfully. "How about you give me a massage? Goodness! My back hurts me so badly." he winced.

"Okay." Clay took his hand and drew himself up too. Sam tugged him gently to the bedroom, hopping on the plush sheets. "I'll do my best."

The thought of getting his hands all over Sam triggered his c**k so bad, it hurt to even move, yet Clay tried not to let his discomfort show as he sat down uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. Besides, it seemed the massage was going to be a first lesson, a good way to start everything.

Sam began unbuttoning the black, sweaty t-shirt he was wearing. Suddenly Clay felt bold. "Let me help you with that." he offered, stepping close to push Sam's hands-off and took over, slipping each button carefully through the buttonhole. He slid the shirt over Sam's shoulders, enjoying the warmth of Sam's bare skin against his fingers.

Sam reached up and grabbed the first button of his pyjama top, pulling him down to kiss him softly. It wasn't a deep kiss, more like a swift brush of lips, no tongues involved then he released him. "Have you got Vaseline or Olive oil?"

"Yeah, Tina bought some a week before she left. I think she left it in the kitchen cabinet."

"That'd do. Does it have an unpopular flavour, you know, garlic or ginger?"

Clay laughed. "Don't be silly, of course not. I'll go get it."

When he got back, Sam was lying face down on his bed, dressed only in super tight black briefs. s**t! Blood rushed into Clay's c**k, making it swell and push harder against his shorts. He stood quietly at the doorway, admiring the man on his bed. Sam's face was turned the other way so Clay didn't feel guilty as his gaze trailed down the rigid muscles of his sleek golden back, over his solid arse and down to his equally muscular legs.

"Are you gonna stand there ogling all day or come in already?" Sam turned to face him, winking at his flushed cheeks. "f**k. You look cute when you're all embarrassed. Take your clothes off and come over."

Clay placed the oil on the footstool beside the bed and turned to face Sam. He took off his pyjama top, striding across the hardwood floor to lock the door then returned to stand beside the bed.

Sam's skin was pure gold in the sunlight which reflected off the peach wallpapers. He looked irresistible and delicious and the thought that he was there for Clay to touch and do whatever with made Clay's mouth water and his heart pound. As Clay drew down his shorts, he could feel Sam's gaze on him, adding pressure to his self-consciousness. He pushed the shorts down to his legs and stepped out of them.

"Gorgeous." Sam smirked at the bulge pushing out the front of Clay's boxer briefs, his tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. The genuine admiration in his eyes watered down whatever reservations Clay had before and he relaxed fully when Sam chuckled.

A massage to be conducted on a bed also stood as an euphemism for straddling so Clay climbed over Sam, one knee on either side of his hips and reached for the oil bottle. He lowered his weight slowly so he was seated on Sam's arse. "Comfortable enough?"

"f**k, yeah." Sam replied in a muffled voice, his head resting on his arms.

Clay poured the oil on his hands and began to work it gently over Sam's stiff shoulders. His skin was soft and smooth, a sharp contrast to the tension in the muscle beneath. Sam breathed out his approval as Clay went in full mode, digging in with his thumbs and the heels of his hand as he tried to loosen up the tension.

"Oh, sweet bejesus! That's perfect," Sam groaned. "Don't you f*****g stop."

Clay giggled, unable to help himself. Being this near to Sam made his c**k excited like crazy to the point that it pushed out the material so well that whenever Clay looked down, he saw the head of his d**k poking out shamelessly.

"Oh shut up. This feels so good."

"I'm happy to help." Clay worked his hands down, humping on the rigid muscles on either side of Sam's spine. He shuffled his position slightly, his c**k bouncing off Sam's skin and back down with a slap. f**k. Clay thought. He's messing with my brain. His c**k was hard as steel and stubborn for attention but simply touching Sam was amazing. He was so sleek and possessed that lean hardness Clay wanted in his dream man. It felt so right doing this that he momentarily forgot the existence of the feminine gender, trying to decipher how much he'd missed out all these years, stuck in an unsatisfying relationship with someone he'd never love.

Sam shifted his position, the muscles in his buttocks clenching as he gritted out. "My c**k's getting squashed." he reached one hand under his body to adjust himself. Clay kneeled up, still straddling him. "Why don't you turn over then?" he asked, dying to see the rest of Sam's body.

Sam obeyed, twisting and turning until he laid on his back, his eyes dropping to Clay's erection which poked out of his boxer briefs. He licked his lips slowly.

Clay's attention was seized by Sam's perfectly sculptured torso. Holy s**t! It was even more beautiful than Clay had imagined; an imagination that had worked wonders since yesterday. Toned light skin, a hint of invisible brown hair trailing down his stomach, past his slim V-line and into his bulging briefs. His n*****s were pale brown and sharp to Clay's touch which elicited a ragged breath intake filled with passion from Sam.

"Careful, they're sensitive." he smiled up at Clay. "First lesson, don't go doing this with any willing male apart from me after this. Not all gay fuckers love their n*****s being fondled with, though there are a few who do and I'm one of them."

"Noted." Clay tucked that vital part of information in the back of his brain for future reference.

He turned his attention lower, running his hands over Sam's abs to the line of hair below his navel. Clay poked it with his index finger and followed it down until he reached those tight, black briefs. He paused to take in the sight of the impressive bulge that strained them, his eyes growing large as saucers. Sam's d**k was barely contained in the fabric. It was erect, lying horizontally and pressing up at the white waistband a little below Sam's waist where the deep V of his abs ran under the material. There was a wet patch at the tip which made Clay's c**k throb.

He lifted his eyes to meet Sam's. The latter grinned at him. "I think it's your turn to have a massage, babe."