Swings & Roundabouts

This story really shows its age. The playground described has all the equipment from the last century with a big metal slide (Does anyone remember those high slides that went about 12 feet high, with a metal cage at the top? It would be a health and safety nightmare in today’s world. And then the old wooden roundabouts. We used to play a silly game where me and a friend would lie down on the wooden lip, drop a stick as you whirled around and then your mate had to pick it up.)

The story is set on a modern housing estate where I used to live as a child. In the UK, our houses are built very close together and we could see into the back garden of the house opposite. I slept in a small box room at the back of the house but I don’t remember the couple that lived at the back of us having any children, so I never really paid much attention to what was going off behind me.

It wasn’t until several years later that I borrowed the scenario and turned it into a story.

As a kid I remember being incredibly bored during the summer six week holidays from school. I didn’t really meet up with any friends so I just tended to entertain myself.

The story itself delves into my mind as a young teenager who had not yet accepted he was gay and that confusion was how Karl was feeling. I remember just wishing that someone like Scott would come into my life and help me come to terms with myself, but alas he never did. At that age I was never very confident and would never make the first move, or even be forward with my feelings or opinions. Oh how I wish that young man was more confident, but back then homophobia was rife, and where I lived, acceptable.

I hope you enjoy the story.

One other thing, how on earth could I think that a fifteen-year-old boy left alone in the house in the morning didn’t have a wank before he got up. Shocking! That boy really needed to give his cock better attention.

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