“Wasn't that paedophilia? I mean, a guy of his age having sex with a young lightie like you?”
“I never thought of it like that,” answered Jason. “I wasn't so young. The age of consent in England is sixteen. And I was seventeen. He was only a year or so older than me. His dad bought him a car when he passed his driving licence when he turned eighteen. He would take me to pubs and I'd pretend to be old enough to drink.”
“What's happened to him?”
“He's married. Works in the City somewhere. I saw him at an old boys' day and he'd lost all his looks. He was pudgy and had bags under his eyes. There was nothing there for either of us.”
Luigi sighed. “I never had anyone. I suppose, I was too gay for most of the guys at school. My first guy was a pick up I made at a pub. I pretended I was eighteen. He screwed me. It was . . . ” he hesitated, “ it was good to feel loved for a bit. At school everybody used to . . . . well, it wasn't so good.”
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