Naïve In The Extreme
by Alexander

 

Naïve. Incredibly, stupidly naïve. That was me at the age of about eleven. OK, I was intelligent enough being in the top dozen kids in my year group, but intelligence doesn’t give you common sense either and I had none of that whatsoever. I wasn’t aware of it of course, but something told me that David wasn’t really the friend I thought he was.

He was two years older than me and was the only boy of my sort of age in the neighbourhood apart from a family of three boys who lived over the road – a family which my parents told me to steer clear of for some unknown reason. Didn’t worry me too much though because I had a lot of mates at school and David for when I was at home.

The other thing which I was totally oblivious of was sex. It was 1964 and sex hadn’t been invented as far as anyone of school age was concerned and so when I discovered that my little peter would get amazingly hard whenever I rubbed it against the climbing frame or against the ropes we climbed in the gym, I simply thought that it was a brilliant feeling which was to be enjoyed as often as I could manage it. The only thing I had learned to do was not let my parents see me doing it because not long after I’d discovered the trick, my mother saw me with my legs wrapped round a post in the garden, humping it for all I was worth with what must’ve been a blissful look on my face. By the tone in her voice and the words she used, I quickly understood that ‘it wasn’t a nice thing to do’. Naturally, I assumed it was because the feeling was so good that I was I shouldn’t do it, after all one of the most important jobs a parent had was to stop little boys having fun. Anyway, I didn’t stop doing it, I just made sure that there were no adults around when I indulged myself. And that’s where David comes into the story.

We lived on the edge of a medium-sized town in the north of England and not very far away was a big wood which had a river running along the far side of it and a derelict factory on another. Most boys in the area knew it well of course as it was our natural playground, being plenty big enough for any number of boys to mess around in without troubling one another, including David and me.

In those days, it was quite usual for boys to disappear for the whole day without anyone worrying, provided that they put in an appearance some time or other to be fed or get minor cuts and bruises attended to, and were home by the time it got dark. Mum didn’t worry about me anyway because she knew that I was with David most of the time, and being those two vital years older he was therefore more sensible and responsible than me.

One thing we liked to do was climb trees, and that summer of my eleventh year we seemed to spend a great deal of time risking our lives and limbs by scaling the biggest ones we could find, or hanging a rope from a branch and swinging out over the river. Climbing trees also gave me a wonderful opportunity to stimulate that little thing between my legs as often as I liked without being told off. I wasn’t aware though that David knew what I was doing until one fateful day when I was climbing the tree for the third time, rubbing my already hard peter against the bark when the feeling suddenly got a lot more intense and I automatically humped against the trunk, gripping it between my thighs as hard as I could. I felt so excited that I actually sort of feinted for a second or two and let out a moan which David heard because when I turned to look at him, he gave me a smile that said he knew exactly what’d happened. I blushed a bit to start with because I knew what I was doing was ‘naughty’, but felt better when David rubbed his hand between his legs and smiled even more.

From then on, I didn’t mind doing it in front of David so much because he knew how good it felt. We never spoke about it of course, it was one of those secret things that was just ‘there’, one of those things that only us boys were suppose to know about. I did notice though that sometimes David would put his hands down his trousers and play with his own thing and make it go hard. As far as I was concerned it was no big deal, just another shared secret between us.

The next thing of any interest that happened was when we were right at the top of a tall tree that we’d climbed, just sat on a branch and looking around. My dick, as I’d learned to call it by now, was a bit hard after I’d shinned up the trunk and I was still enjoying the feeling when David told me he wanted to piss. We’d never watched each other do this before, our innate modesty demanding that we turn our backs on each other. This time though there was no way could he do this unless he climbed all the way down the tree and then back up again, which he didn’t want to do. Instead he stood up on the branch, dropped the front of his shorts down so’s he could get his thing out and started to piss. I couldn’t help but stare at him: I’d never consciously taken any notice of other boys things before, but this time I was completely absorbed by the sight. Because he had to hold on to the tree with one hand, and use the other to keep his shorts out of the way, I had a perfect sight of his dick and balls. A bit to my surprise the ‘good feeling’ came back and my dick got hard again. Without knowing it, I put a hand on it and rubbed it gently, all the while watching the golden liquid spray from David’s cock. Even then, I didn’t think it was at all sexual, I just liked what I saw.

David saw what I was doing and gave me one of his grins, but he didn’t stop pissing. In fact he even left it hanging out in front of me after he’d finished, letting me stare at it. Then I noticed it was getting bigger and bigger until he was as stiff as I was and his cock was standing out like a little flagpole. I knew what we were doing was very naughty which only made it more exciting: seeing another boys thing in the toilets was one thing, everyone sorta sneaked a look then, but actually showing it off to anyone was different, and when it was hard as well, then … ! I think David was going to say something to me but he changed his mind, pulled his shorts back up and sat down beside me.

The day after we decided to explore the old factory and were on the top floor of the office block when again David told me he needed to piss. Instead of moving somewhere else as I expected him to, he just dropped his shorts again, turned to face the wall and pissed against it. He made sure though that not only could I watch him again, but he stood far enough away from the wall so’s I could get a good look. My hitherto soft cock stiffened up at the sight and so did David’s. And he only pissed a tiny bit which made me think he didn’t really need to go, he seemed to do it so’s I could get another look at his dick and balls.

“You hard again?” he said, grinning.

I nodded, not having the sense to tell him anything else.

“Show me,” he commanded.

One thing about David was that he had a very domineering nature: it had never bothered me much before because I always followed his lead anyway, even if I didn’t really want to. This time though I wasn’t too sure about it – this was beyond naughty, it was, well, it was wrong.

“Come on,” he said firmly. “There’s only you and me and you’ve seen enough of mine, I wanna see yours.”

This seemed a good enough reason to me, and in any case I wasn’t too sure what he’d do if I refused – probably beat me up or something. Reluctantly I stood up and pushed my shorts down to my knees.

His cock was bigger than mine of course, not a great deal, but more than enough to be noticeable. For some reason I thought he would make fun of it, if only to make me feel bad, but he didn’t. Instead he rubbed his dick up and down a couple of times with his hand and just stared at me.

“Come over here,” he said, staring at me.

I waddled over to him, thinking that he wanted to get a closer look. To my surprise he told me to grab hold of his cock and feel it. I wasn’t at all sure about this and hesitated, my hand stopped half-way between us.

“Come on, do it.” he said again. Then added, “Please?”

It was the ‘please’ that did it. He rarely, if ever, said please or thank you – it just wasn’t like him. Glad that I could do something for him that he wanted me to do , I willingly did as I was told.

Being the first dick other than my own I’d ever touched, I didn’t know what to expect, but I decided it felt OK. Nice and warm. Hard and soft at the same time. And the best thing was that it must’ve made him feel good because he told me how good it felt. In my mind I reasoned that because his dick was bigger than mine, the feelings he got must’ve been that much better as well and I liked the thought of making him happy.

I wished that he’d feel mine as well, but didn’t have the courage to ask him, being a bit afraid of his temper. Thankfully though, I didn’t need to. I stared, fascinated, as his hand moved towards me. The feeling I got when he actually held it was unbelievable – much, much better than when I did it myself, or even when I was rubbing against a tree. Even after all these years, I can still remember going weak at the knees as his fingers played with my little dick and balls and the feeling of intense pleasure I felt.

We fiddled around with each other for ages getting accustomed to the new and magical sensations that were overwhelming us. David couldn’t have know about masturbating properly as we never actually did anything like that, or at least not for long enough to realise how good it felt after a while. Neither did he get anywhere near cumming, I guess that either he couldn’t manage it then or didn’t know anything about it.

One thing I did know, however, was that he liked ‘messing about’ like we did. Liked it a lot. So much so that we managed to do it almost everyday from then onwards. To be honest, I didn’t like it all that much at first. This was partly due to the fact that I knew it was all wrong and not a nice thing to do, and partly because I didn’t like being domineered by David in that way. It only took a few days though before I actually started to look forward to our ‘funny half hours’ as he called them and we even dared to strip right off once or twice when we were sure no one else was around.

***

Once the summer ended and school re-started, our fun and games came to an end, more or less. Not only was the weather getting colder and wetter, the only times we could escape from home was one of the week-end days if we were lucky. I was glad in a way because although I really liked what we were doing by now, I still didn’t like David all that much. His insistence of ‘being in command’ all the time pissed me off more than I would care to admit, and he would only do the sex stuff when he felt like it and never when I wanted to.

So it was with mixed delight that I was told one day that he was moving to the other side of town: I had grown up enough by then to know that I was being bullied in a way and although I accepted it because he was the only ‘friend’ I had, it didn’t mean to say I liked it. I would miss our fun times together of course, but I knew it was worth it to get away from him.

It was shortly after he’d moved and I was reduced to playing by myself that the next momentous event happened. I’d ventured as far as the edge of the woods one Saturday when I saw a rope hanging from one of the trees. Naturally, I started to climb it, hoping to feed my addiction and get the familiar magical feeling in my groin again. I must’ve been two-thirds of the way up and a good twenty feet off the ground when it hit me. Almost without warning, the warm tingle from my dick changed to a much more intense, mind-blowing flash of pure unadulterated delight. I gripped the rope between my thighs tighter than ever before and clung on desperately with my hands as I shook and shuddered with a feeling like I’d never had before. Once it’d passed, I felt a warm stickiness in my pants and my breathing was heavy and ragged. Slowly and carefully I lowered myself to the ground and sat down until I felt a bit better. Worried that I’d damaged myself somehow, I lifted the front of my jeans out of the way and peered down, expecting to see blood or something. Instead I noticed a big damp patch, which I was relieved to see wasn’t bright red. It only took a couple more seconds for me to realise what it was, and with a mixture of pleasure and curiosity I picked some up with my fingers. Whitish-grey, sticky and smelling slightly of bleach, it could only be one thing I confirmed, inordinately pleased with myself. At last, I’d grown up!

For the next few weeks I wanked myself off as often as I could, sometimes as much as five times a day! The only downside as far as I was concerned was that I had no one to share my new-found talent with – even David would’ve done. For once I wished that he and I could disappear in to the woods again for a bit of fun. Still, solitary exercise was almost as good.

Some months after my discovery, we too moved house. Thinking that I would be pleased, and almost as an aside, my mother told me that we would only be about a mile from where David has moved to. Needless to say I now had some very mixed feelings about the move. I’d seen David at school a few times of course and we’d usually ignored each other, mainly because being two year groups apart created an enormous gulf between us. In any case messing about as we had done before was impossible at school and if he couldn’t do that, then David wasn’t interested in me. We visited each other’s house a few times as our parents were friends with each other but it wasn’t long before my mother realised that David and me weren’t as close as we had once been and so didn’t insist that I always went with her. In any case I’d made friends with a few boys who lived closer and I spent a lot of my spare time with them.

One boy called Michael I got on particularly well with. Like me, he was interested in science and mathematics and it wasn’t long before we did our homework together most nights as well as play together at week-ends

Along with our new house came an old garden shed which we quickly adopted as our ‘den’ and once we’d kitted it out with a few broken chairs and stuff, it became our regular hang-out. Naturally we stashed all our favourite books and comics in there, pride of place being taken by a ‘dirty magazine’ Michael had found somewhere. As I mentioned before, this was a different age to the one we live in now, and pornography as we know it now didn’t exist. At best all you could get were supposedly erotic poses of big-chested women wearing single piece bathing costumes, or if you were lucky a bikini. It was all we had though and it became almost mandatory that Michael and me scanned through it every time we went in the den. To be honest, even then I didn’t associate the sight of scantily-clad women with the delightful ache I got in my groin: looking at ‘dirty pictures’ was a thing all boys were supposed to do although I didn’t really understand why. OK, I knew it had something to do with ‘sex’ but I hadn’t a clue what and neither did Michael. Hell, I didn’t even associate my ever-hard cock and my frequent cums with sex. Not to start with at least. There was some hidden part of my brain that must’ve reacted at some stage though because once in a while I was conscious of my cock getting hard when Michael and me sat side-by-side flicking through the magazine. No doubt because of my earlier experiences with David I always put this down to the nearness of Michael and in my mind I associated my erections (and subsequent wanks) with boys.

As usual Michael and me had the well-thumbed magazine in front of us one hot summer Saturday and we were skimming through it for the second time that day. As we’d run out of things to talk about, we were just sat there staring for the millionth time at the now boring pictures. It must’ve been the combination of knowing my parents were both out for the day, the hot weather, the closeness of Michael and of course the rocket in my pocket that made me say what I did.

“Do you ever wank off?” I said out of the blue.

Michael gave me an odd look and after a moment or two nodded at me.

“What do you think about when you’re doing it?” Where this question came from I’ve no idea, it certainly wasn’t planned or anything. I knew that when I jerked off, it was always to images of boys from school or in magazines I’d read and I was curious as to whether or not Michael thought the same thoughts.

“Dunno,” said Michael. “What do you think about?”

I almost said ‘boys like you’ or something, but at the last second realised that this wouldn’t be a good idea – it wasn’t part of the game boys of our age were suppose to play.

“This magazine,” I lied.

“Me too,” he said just as unconvincingly.

“You hard now?” I went on.

“Yeah,” he half smiled, putting his hand between his legs.

I’d never really looked at Michael ‘down there’ other than a cursory glance once in a while and I’d no idea how big he was or anything, but suddenly that was the only thing I wanted to do.

“How big is it?” I asked.

We’d never had this sort of conversation and I wasn’t at all sure if Michael was interested or not; he’d certainly never brought the subject up other than the expected ‘I’d fuck that’ sort of comment about the pictures we were looking at.

“Dunno,” he said again. “About this big I think.”

He put two fingers about four inches apart to show me.

“ ‘Bout the same as me then,” I replied.

There was an awkward pause as we both thought the same thing, but neither of us quite had the courage to ask. Until I decided to take the plunge.

“Wanna see mine?” I asked nervously. “You ain’t got to if you don’t want.”

He thought about it for a few seconds then said, “OK.” There was no emotion in his voice: no excitement or anything like that. It was just as if he was agreeing to let me show him my cock as a favour. I didn’t mind though, after all if I showed him mine, then he’d have to show me his which is what I really wanted.

Unfastening my zip, I pulled my cock through the flies and let it stick out, moving my hands away so’s he could get a proper look.

To start with he didn’t seem too bothered about it, but then he looked closer, obviously comparing it mentally with his.

“Show me yours?” I asked nervously.

This time there was less reluctance as he slid his zip down and allowed his dick to spring out. He was right – there wasn’t a great deal of difference in size. His was a little fatter if anything, and like me, uncircumcised. It looked nice I remember thinking to myself, and I wanted to see more.

“Got any hairs yet?” I whispered.

He nodded. “A few.”

There was no need to ask the next question, my face showed it.

He raised himself up off the chair a few inches and pushed his trousers and pants down to his knees. To return the favour I did the same thing, leaving us both sat there fully exposed, staring fascinatedly at each other.

In fact we were remarkably similar in hair growth as well, having just a few wisps of new growth around the base of our dicks. I think in an odd sort of way we were both relieved that we so alike in that respect; I know Michael visibly relaxed as he compared us.

“Wanna beat off?” I asked, giving my dick a stroke or two to encourage him.

“Can’t,” he said to my surprise. “It ain’t safe, the doors not locked. Someone might come in.”

The chances of this happening were next to nil, and the door didn’t have a lock on it anyway. Determined not to let this golden opportunity slip out of my grasp, I did the next best thing and dragged a heavy box across to stop anyone opening it. As I sat down again, I reached a hand across, grabbed his dick gently and began to stroke it. Michael obviously wasn’t too keen on this as he soon pushed my hand away and took over himself. Only slightly disappointed, I set to work on my own cock, not for one second taking my eyes away from Michael.

Given the situation we were in, it didn’t take very long for us to cum. I can’t say it was the best cum I’d ever had, but it was certainly the most exciting. Neither Michael nor I had done it in front of anyone else before and we were both a bit too nervous to get the maximum amount of pleasure from it, but it was OK though – more than OK in fact, I really enjoyed watching him.

When we’d finished, cleaned the mess up and got dressed again, we sat in a sort of embarrassed silence for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say or do next. To break the awkwardness I got the pack of cards out and we played Poker for a while until Michael decided it was time for him to go. He was leaving a lot earlier than he normally did, and I was afraid that I’d spoiled our friendship by being so stupid and making him do what we did. I didn’t see him for a few days after that either and I was sure that he was avoiding me which upset me more than I thought it would. Didn’t stop me jerking off to pictures of him in my mind though as I lay in bed.

You can imagine the relief I felt when Michael appeared on the following Wednesday evening to do his homework with me. As it turned out, he hadn’t been round simply because he didn’t have any homework to do and that was all there was to it. We didn’t mention our messing about in the shed though: that was relegated to the ‘secret’ part of our life.

The following Saturday would be the true test of our friendship I decided. If he came round to the den, then all was OK. Whether he would want to jack off again was another thing, but I didn’t care about that too much: surprisingly, his friendship was more important I realised.

He did come round much to my relief, and we spent a few hours playing with my model steam engine. No mention was made of the escapade of last week, but he was friendly enough and seemed to enjoy himself just as much as normal. He even stayed for lunch (sandwiches and tea as usual) which made me happy. Once we’d finished eating we were on our way back to the shed when mum told me that she would be out shopping for the afternoon and that I wasn’t to go out until she came back.

We were OK with that and went back to my steam engine. Before long we had to take our T-shirts off as the shed got warmer and warmer. It got so hot in fact that we put the engine away as it was getting sticky and smelly in our small den.

“Wanna look at the magazine?” Michael asked as we sat down on the chair together.

“Naah,” I said. “I’ve got bored with it. Wanna play cards?”

“Naah,” he said. “Can’t be bothered.”

We sat quietly for a couple of minutes trying to think of something to do when I became aware that Michael was gently pressing his knee against mine. Turning to look at him, I got a wickedly sly grin from him and another press against my leg. I pushed back, having a very good idea by now as to where this was leading.

“Everyone’s gone out, yeah?” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, my heart my mouth.

“Wanna … ?” he grinned, rubbing his crotch.

“Yeah. You want to?” I replied.

“Block the door and I’ll cover the window.”

The window bit we didn’t do last week, but it seemed a good idea and before long Michael had fixed a bit of rag across it, leaving the little shack in semi-darkness.

“Let’s get undressed,” he giggled.

Needless to say, I was all in favour of that and within seconds we were both bollock naked and staring at our boners. I moved nearer to Michael and reached down to feel his cock and balls. He let me run my fingers around for a few minutes before he pushed my hand away and simply waved his almost obscenely erect cock in my direction.

“Let’s beat off together,” he whispered.

Sitting side-by-side again, we looked at each other insanely as we pleasured ourselves, pausing once in a while to make things last as long as possible. I tried once more to put my hand on his dick, but there was no way he would let me; neither would he touch me. Still, didn’t stop either of us enjoying ourselves and when we came, it was satisfying for both of us. What’s more, Michael didn’t get up and leave once we’d finished, in fact we both stayed naked until it was time for him to go home.

And that was the way things went from then on. Once we were sure that everyone had gone out, we both stripped off and played around in our den completely naked. Michael would never allow us to touch each other though, apart from an occasional feel of one another. I would’ve like to feel him all over and for us to toss each other off as well, but Michael wasn’t in to that in the slightest and so I had to be content with what I had. It was OK though and we both enjoyed it nevertheless.

***

The reason that I wasn’t too fussed about Michael not letting me jack him off was that I was also having fun and games elsewhere. My school was an all-boys Grammar school, about 400-strong in total, which as far as I was concerned was absolute heaven. Luckily discipline was fairly easy-going, most of it done by the Prefects on behalf of the teachers. We were allowed a fair degree of freedom on the whole, especially at break-times when we could go more or less where we pleased provided we didn’t cause any trouble.

The other thing that helped was that I was good at most of my lessons, and together with the other ‘top boys’ in my group, we were allowed to sit at the back of the class, allowing the teachers to concentrate on the less able ones who sat nearer the front. One day, the teacher was going through our homework books, telling us how and where we’d gone wrong. There was a little group of four of us sat together on the back row, and because we’d got most of our work right, we were bored as the teacher went through it with the others. Suddenly I got a dig in the ribs from my neighbour and as I turned round to see what he wanted, I was amazed to see that the other three boys all had their dicks out and were playing with their erections under the desk. Aiden, the boy sat next to me grinned and pointed downwards, his meaning perfectly clear. By the time I’d slid the zip down and worked my cock out, I too was well hard and let everyone see it. It was heaven as far as I was concerned. Naturally, I’d seen them all naked before, but it simply wasn’t done to be caught looking when we were getting changed or having showers – but now there was an open invitation to look as much as you wanted! Stephen, the boy furtherest away from me and sat right in the corner was actually pretending to jerk himself off.

Grinning back at Aiden, I carefully slid my hand across and took hold of his dick gently, feeling it under my fingers. Unlike Michael, rather than push me away, he grabbed my own cock and felt it. More than that, he actually reached over and took hold of the boy on the other side of him! Giving me a wicked grin, he began to stroke us both off at the same time. This caused one of the other boys to giggle out loud, which attracted the attention of the teacher. This earned us a glare from him and a hurried fastening of zips on the back row, much to my disappointment.

That was the first time I’d actually seen boys mess with each other in ‘public’ so to speak, and I instantly realised that I wasn’t the only one who had a fascination with erect dicks, especially those of other boys. I also learned two other things: that Aiden wasn’t averse to having a bit of fun it seemed, and that he was willing to share the fun.

I hadn’t taken much notice of him up until then, he had a different circle of friends and we didn’t come into contact very much. Now though, I had an incentive and was determined to see just how far he would go.

As it turned out, he lived between my house and the school and with only a small diversion I could pass his home on the way. Which I did. Within a matter of days we became friendlier and it became routine for me to ride my bike up to his house in the mornings and we would ride to school together. He had a brother called Kelvin who was about eighteen months younger than him, but as he went to a different school I didn’t get to know him for quite some time.

His brother wasn’t my concern though. As well as working on our friendship, which was easy to do as we quite liked each other anyway, I was thinking of ways to get inside his trousers. Sadly, the incident at the back of the classroom seemed to be just a one-off I decided: certainly it wasn’t repeated. Neither did Aiden show any signs of being interested in ‘messing about’ either. Didn’t stop me thinking about it though. I thought he was good looking and had a nice-looking dick which I took every opportunity of studying whilst we were getting changed or showering together. On more than one occasion I even saw the start of a boner in the showers, but he always disappeared before it got too big. One day for some reason, Aiden and I were the last two in the showers and I grinned at him, nodding in the direction of his half-erect cock. This time he didn’t make any attempt to hide it: in fact he seemed happy to let me watch as it grew to full hardness. Naturally, my own tool followed through and we spent a few minutes grinning stupidly at each other and waving our cocks around.

We were, of course, also the last to get dressed and leave the changing rooms. This was no problem though as it was the last lesson of the day and we were in no hurry. Quite deliberately, we left our pants and trousers to the very last when we dressed, even putting our ties on before reaching for our underpants. All the time we were perving on each other quite openly, our joint erections still evident. We were still hard a few minutes later when we left the gym area and headed out towards the cycle sheds.

Riding a bike with a hard-on isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, and it was with some relief that we decided to walk and push our bikes. We weren’t saying much to each other as we walked side-by-side down a track alongside the golf course when I had an idea.

“I just gotta jack off,” I said as off-handedly as I could. “Can’t wait ’til I get home.”

“Me too,” Aiden agreed. “But I can’t. Kelvin will be home.”

“We can always go on the golf course,” I ventured, hoping against hope.

There was only a split-seconds thought before Aiden took a quick look round and not seeing anyone, pushed his bike through the hedgerow. Instantly I followed, laying my bike down on top of his. Taking a good look round once more, Aiden pushed his pants down to his knees and gazed at me expectantly. Once I’d taken care of things, we moved closer together and simultaneously reached down for each other.

The feel of someone else’s hand on your cock is impossible to describe and I almost gasped out loud as Aiden took hold of mine, gently and firmly. It seemed as if he wasn’t in a great rush to move things along either as he slowly fondled it and ran his fingers round my balls. In fact, he even slid an arm round my waist and moved in as close as he could to get a better grip.

I almost had to force myself to do what was expected of me: the feelings Aiden was inducing caused me to forget almost everything else and it was only when he gave me a slightly painful squeeze to remind me what I should be doing that I came down to Earth.

Grinning widely at him, I set to with a will and gazed down at my hand wrapped around his pride and joy. He had a few more hairs than me, I noticed: beautiful light-brown, almost blond ones which seemed to make his dick even more attractive. As far as I was concerned, his was the best-looking package I’d ever seen and I was immensely proud of the fact that Aiden was allowing me to play with it. I stopped jacking him for a few seconds and felt round his balls, weighing them in my hand.

“That feels good!” he whispered. “But we’d better be quick in case anyone comes.”

Doing as I was told, I started work on him seriously.

We both spurted within a few strokes of each other, achingly hard and as massively as ever I’d done. Aiden too seemed more than happy as he screwed his eyes shut, bit his bottom lip and shot out his load of magnificent cum.

“Christ, I needed that!” he grinned broadly as the last few drops dripped onto the ground.

Again we dressed fairly slowly, taking time out to smile conspiratorially at one another until at last we reluctantly pulled our trousers up and hid our cocks from view. Once fully clothed, he surprised me by putting an arm round my shoulders and giving me a squeeze. He didn’t say anything, just the hug and a look in his eyes that told me everything was alright. I knew then it wouldn’t be the last time we’d do it, for some reason I also knew that he’d been waiting for someone like me to mess with. That made me even prouder that he was my friend.

***

Aiden wasn’t the only one I had some good times with of course: there were quite a few others as well. At the back of one of my notebooks I once wrote down the names of all the boys I’d done stuff with and there must’ve been at least twenty of them. They weren’t all ‘regulars’ or anything, most I only jacked off the once, but there were a few who seemed to like what we did and came back for more.

Secrecy was a big thing, naturally. Mostly we managed to escape from lessons for a few minutes and disappear into a quiet toilet where would could wank each other off somewhat frantically. But nonetheless enjoyably. My other favourite place as the swimming pool. Our pool was one of the old-fashioned ones with changing cubicles arranged round the pool-side. It was routine for the boys to divide into pairs for changing, leaving our clothes in the cubicle and step directly into the water. To get naked in a confined area with another boy was of course far too much temptation for me and I never failed to take advantage of it. I don’t think you’ll be surprised to hear that a lot of boys found the situation as irresistible as I and very quickly I developed a technique which more often than not got results.

To start with I would look at my partner as we undressed at the beginning of the lesson, and make sure that they saw me sizing them up. Sometimes we would both get the start of erections when this happened I would smile knowingly at my partner, make sure he saw my boner and then finish getting changed. If I felt that he would be willing to go a bit further then I would wait until the end of the lesson and we were drying off before I made my move. It wasn’t difficult for me to get a hard-on and I would ‘accidentally’ brush it against him as we manoeuvred around in the confined space. This would often make him get hard as well if he wasn’t already and it only took a little persuasion or a knowing look for us to have a quick wank together. There were two boys especially, Peter and Martyn, who would often vie to make sure one of them got changed with me. Both were exceptionally good-looking as far as I was concerned. Peter had straight black hair and seemed to have a slightly darker skin than most of us – not that he was coloured or anything, just a slight Mediterranean cast which I found fascinating. He also liked jacking off as well and was more than prepared to return the favour.

Martyn was a bit different. Although he chose to change with me a few times, he always acted as if he wasn’t interested in doing anything. When we got changed at the beginning of the lesson, he always kept his back to me so I couldn’t see anything, but after we’d finished in the pool, he would get a hard-on and point it at me, expecting me to take hold of it and do the necessary. He never spoke at all and even tried to give the impression that he didn’t really want to wank him off, but I knew better and I’m certain he enjoyed it just a much as me.

By the end of the first term, I worked out that I’d jacked off two-thirds of the boys in my class. The other third I’d tried to seduce but got nowhere. That didn’t worry me in the slightest as I had enough other ‘friends’ to satisfy my voracious appetite, especially as there were a couple of boys who would come with me to the toilets whenever I wanted. At the drop of a hat they would follow me into the sit-down and happily drop their trousers revealing an already rampant and leaking cock.

The odd thing, looking back at it, was that despite the dozens of times I’d wanked with other boys, that we never did anything more than that. There weren’t the magazines (or internet!) around then to inspire us to do anything else, and none of us had the imagination to think that there were other possibilities. We swore at each other often enough of course, using such phrases as ‘cock-sucker’ or ‘bum-bandit’, but they were considered just as insults, the actual acts they portrayed not being thought of as things you could actually do.

By the middle of the second term I began to realise that I had a problem. Apart from Aiden and the boy who lived a few doors way from me, I didn’t have any close friends to speak of. I was never invited to parties or other activities, never picked for teams and even avoided sometimes. It didn’t take me long to pick up that I’d earned a reputation which wasn’t altogether a good one. Not that I was bullied or anything: no one even mentioned it to me directly, but I knew. It takes a very special person I now know to stay friendly with me whilst this was going on, and Aiden was that friend. He never teased me about it, never avoided my company and as far as I know never ran me down to our friends. We even jacked off together once in a while still, but as time went by he got less and less interested – he was growing out of it.

My reputation hadn’t just stayed within my own class, or even our year-group I learned one day. I was riding my bike home by myself when a boy two years above me came alongside. I knew him slightly as he was a member of the school Science Club like me. I didn’t like him all that much: he was tall, gangly, spotty and rarely had a good word for anybody. Without any sort of preamble he simply told me that he wanted me to toss him off. Like David used to do, it wasn’t a request, it was an order. I looked at him with a mixture of distaste and fear. He was a lot bigger than me, and a lot older – I didn’t have much choice in the matter. When I tried to get out of it by saying that there was nowhere we could go, he told me that his house was empty and we should go there.

When we got to his bedroom, I was as scared as ever I’d been. This was the first time that I’d been forced to jack someone off against my wishes and I didn’t like it. It wouldn’t have been too bad if he was even a half-decent person or good-looking, but I didn’t like him in the slightest which didn’t help. To be fair, he had a nice dick though and I concentrated on that, trying to banish all other thoughts and get it over with as soon as possible. We were just getting started when a ring on the door-bell startled us both.

Peering out of the window, Trevor told me to stay where I was and he would get rid of whoever it was. I was worried enough being half-undressed in a strange house and the thought that there was also someone else there apart from Trevor made me very nervous. Imagine how I felt then when the bedroom door opened and Trevor came in, closely followed by another boy.

“This’s Robert,” Trevor said, either not seeing or ignoring the panic-stricken look on my face.

“We do stuff together. It’s OK, he wanted to join is as well.”

I relaxed very slightly and looked at the stranger. Straight-away I felt better as he half-smiled at me. He was much better looking than Trevor and thankfully much nearer my age.

“Come on,” Trevor said, “Let’s get down to it.”

There was no hesitation on Robert’s part as he quickly dropped his pants down to his ankles as Trevor and me had done. From then on, I actually began to enjoy myself, having someone else to mess with as well as Trevor. This was the first three-some I’d tried and it was good fun although I must admit that it was Robert who made it for me.

On the way home later, I decided that I would never go with Trevor again, whatever he said. I wouldn’t have minded Robert again, but I also knew that would be very unlikely.

As time went by, I found that fewer and fewer boys were willing to mess about with me and by the last term of the year, there were only a few boys who would do anything. My reputation was such that I had no close friends other than Aiden and it began to play on my nerves. I was envious of the ease with which other boys made friends, visited each other’s homes, even had sleepovers together. I was never invited to parties, week-end shopping trips or any other get-togethers. The upshot was that school became a nightmare, my grades took a nose-dive and I became seriously disenchanted with school in general and began to play hookey to avoid the stress.

***

Imagine. A soon-to-be 13 year old boy on the loose in a town centre playing truant from school with little or no money in his pocket and a whole day to fill. I was still as naïve as ever: not so innocent perhaps, but still completely unaware of the dangers around me. These were long before the days when all children were taught to avoid strangers, that there were some men around who liked little boys, and that going anywhere near public toilets was a definite no. There was no perceived danger for boys wandering around by themselves and no one ever interfered with them: at least we were never told about it if they did.

I soon discovered that one of the many ‘greasy spoon’ cafés did a big plate of chips for only a few coppers and so I usually spent what little money I had on them. Across the road was a public toilet which I also used on a regular basis, partly because I could kill a lot of time just sat down in there, reading all the graffiti on the walls. It didn’t escape my notice of course that there were a lot of holes in the walls between the cubicles and it didn’t take a genius to work out what they were for. What did take me a bit of time to work out was that whenever I went into the toilets, I was almost always followed in by men – often by more than one. Not only that, but I was conscious of the fact that I was being stared at through the holes. Naturally, being the sort of person I was, I enjoyed being the object of someone’s interest and would always drop my trousers and give them a show. As far as I was concerned it was no different to what all boys did at school anyway, I was just a little surprised that men still did it even when they were grown up.

My innocence didn’t last all that long. I quickly learned that if I stuck my dick through the hole, I could get a good wank from someone and I could even do it back to him if I wanted. This was OK, I thought and the toilet soon became a regular haunt of mine.

The real change in me came when someone sucked on my dick for the first time. It took me quite a few seconds to realise that the warm, wet feeling on my cock was someone’s mouth. Not that I objected in any way; in fact I quite liked the sensation once I knew what it was, especially when I shot my spunk out because it felt much better than when I did it with my hand. I was hooked. The added bonus I also learned was that if I played a bit of a ‘hard to get’ game, the unknown man would also pay me. That was the clincher. As well as getting my rocks off, I could also earn money.

I’d learned from my experience at school that it wasn’t a good idea to get myself too well known in the toilets. Although I didn’t know for sure, I assumed that what I was doing was against the law and that knowing my luck it wouldn’t be too long before I was caught. In any case there were a few men who recognised me by now, men I didn’t like the look of and tried to avoid whenever I could. The only alternative I had was to explore the town further and find out where all the other public toilets were and try my luck there. It never crossed my mind that I could actually stop what I was doing – the easy money and enjoyable sex I was getting saw to that.

My world came tumbling down mid-way through the last term of the year. It’d been almost two weeks since I’d put in an appearance at school, and I’d been missed. It had never crossed my mind that the school would actually write to my parents enquiring after my absence and so it was with some shock that I was confronted by my parents one day. There was no shouting, screaming or arguing, just a puzzled and very disappointed confrontation with my mum and dad. My father, with whom I’d never been close, simply took a back seat and listened, which in its own way was more unnerving than the talk my mother and I were having. Luckily, no mention of my reputation at school had been mentioned in the letter, although I’m sure the staff must’ve known. Quite simply, my mother put my truancy down to ‘growing up’, falling grades, and bullying of some sort. Quite naturally, I agreed with all she said, more than anxious to avoid giving her any other reasons. The only time we came anywhere near the truth was when she asked what I’d been doing all day when I wasn’t at school, but she seemed satisfied enough when I told her that I’d just been wandering round town all day. I think my father had a better idea than her, he said nothing, but from that day onwards he had as little to do with me as possible. Anyway, the upshot was that I was taken to school by my mother the following Monday and after a very painful talk with my form teacher, resumed my attendance.

I’d lost what few friends I had: even Aiden avoided me as much as possible and so I withdrew into my shell, ignored (and was ignored by) everyone around me and got on with my work. Oddly enough I found that I actually liked the isolation: being a loner meant that I didn’t have to bother about what anyone else did or said – they left me alone and I left them alone. The only person who took any interest in my school life was my Maths teacher, the same one who’d written to my parents and interviewed us before I came back to school. I’m sure he knew exactly what’d happened to me, what I’d been doing with the other boys, but he never said anything about it. Instead he encouraged me to work as hard as I could, pull my grades back up and ignore the world around me as much as I could.

***

That summer we moved home again. I know now that my misadventures had nothing to do with the move: It’d been planned anyway, but I didn’t know that, I thought it was all my doing. The full reason for the move was never told me, all I ever discovered was that there was some sort of friction between my parents and my mother’s family, of which there were at least half a dozen living in the same town. Blaming myself for the enforced move I made my mind up that I would never get myself into that situation again.

Which I never did. We moved some 300 miles away, to a pleasant town in the south of England where I finished my schooling, gained a place at university and at the age of 19 left home for the first time.

My sexual interests hadn’t changed though – I forced myself to ignore them as much as possible, only slipping from the straight and narrow a couple of times. In fact I thought I’d conquered them completely when I went to university, it’d been over two years since I’d done anything and although I hadn’t the slightest interests in girls, my interest in fellow students was under control. In any case, I was older now and the chances of messing about with boys of my age were virtually nil anyway. Schoolboys or older men held no interest for me in the slightest and so I resigned myself to a life of celibacy and learning.

I did for the first term anyway. By sheer chance I was out having a few beers with a fellow student one night when he told me that he was a member of the university LGBT society. After he’d explained what it meant, I was fascinated and intrigued, and with no hesitation at all he took me along to their next meeting.

A new world was suddenly opened up to me. No longer did I have to be afraid or hide my predilections, no longer did I have to worry about what people thought of me: I’d found my soul-mates.

This made my life much more tolerable, and the next four years were the happiest I ever had. Eventually I hooked up with a fellow student called Mark and we became the closest of friends, even sharing a flat in our last year. We complemented each other in lots of ways, despite the fact that he was reading English and I Mathematics. The best thing was that after graduating I stayed on at the university as a research student and Mark got himself a job in the area as a librarian, which meant we could still live together and share our lives.

Life became a little easier only last week when I had one of the rare visits from my parents. It didn’t take long for mum to work out that Mark and I were now something more than just friends, to which she simply said she always knew I was ‘different’ and that she was pleased I’d found someone to share my life with, and she was happy for me. My father, of course, reacted in the way I knew he would. He gave me one last look, stood up and left without saying a word. In an odd sort of way, even this pleased me – at least we knew how things stood between us. Mother simply smiled knowingly in my direction, shrugged her shoulders and said, “He’s still proud of you though.”

And so life goes on. It’s not been all that easy so far, and no doubt I’ll have a few problems to face in the future, but for the time being I’m as happy as a sandboy and perfectly content with who I am.

 

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