"The Lesson Continues..."
"Don't worry about it," says John "we did say it was a one-off."
John's words were spinning round in Harry's mind like a demented carousel as he replayed the events of the previous night in his head. Each time he imagined his mouth around the velvet tip of John's cock, savouring its sweet taste as John slides a wet finger-tip against the crack of Harry's arsehole easing it into the dark warmth resulting in shivers of untold pleasure. Harry had thought of little else these past few days and his cock duly responded, throbbing in anticipation. John had clearly unlocked a part of Harry's sexuality that he wanted to explore further, but how was he going to persuade John that he wanted another lesson? How could he persuade him that it shouldn't be a 'one-off'?
Whereas before when walking around the local shopping precinct Harry would amuse himself by mentally undressing women, expertly determining the size and shape of there breasts and imagining the shape and texture of their nipples – he was always a bit of a breast man - he found himself now unconsciously doing the same with men. His eyes would drift to their crotches as he determined the outline of their manhood, imagining what guilty pleasure lay within the warmth of their trousers.
He particularly enjoyed eyeing up men who wore loose fitted track-suit bottoms where, with a particularly well endowed man, he could not only determine the length and girth of their cock, but could often determine the shape of their balls.
To his surprise (and delight) he found that his fantasying was having such an effect on his cock that there was a steady trickle of pre-cum throughout the day and night. Harry was becoming obsessed with the thought of sucking cock, any cock, but he was also having trouble in coming to terms with this new outlook. He had always thought of himself as straight, but whether he like it or not his experience with John was forcing him to revaluate his sexual preferences.
As he struggled with the implications of what he was contemplating, what John had unlocked inside him, he avoided talking to the one person that would be able to help him out. Worried that the events had possibly damaged their friendship, he resisted the temptation to call and invite him over.
As it transpires his fears were unfounded since John had little else on his mind besides the thought of extending Harry's sphere of experience.
Just as Harry was determining that he should actually make the first move, the doorbell rang and who should be on the doorstep but John offering up a bottle of fine malt whisky.