Rules of Masturbation
by Jason Kason

 

RULE NUMBER SIX

  1. Boys must only masturbate themselves. Any boys caught masturbating each other, whether in pairs or groups, will be severely punished and their parents informed.

 

As far as I know, this rule was generally obeyed.  Homosexual activity wasn’t that common – at least below sixth form – and so tugging each other’s todgers wasn’t an especially frequent activity.  No doubt some boys coupled up in out-of-the-way places to quietly play with each other’s dicks, and no doubt some boys got together in groups for a circle jerk, but I was never one of them and so I can’t tell you anything about what went on.

What I do know is that it was fairly routine for boys to share a bed and that when they did it was possible – not usual, but possible – that they’d end up breaking rule number six.  The vast majority of times the most that would happen was that the two friends would whisper together until all hours and then fall asleep together.  But I imagine every single one of us was, at one time or another, awoken in the dead of night by two boys in the same bed furiously pounding each other’s cocks when a quiet sleepover had degenerated into a noisy double-fister.

Like I said, such moments weren’t seen as a gay thing – at least not in my school.  All boys had to be in their own beds at lights-out – that rule was strictly enforced – but afterwards, maybe an hour or so after bedtime, some of us would sneak down corridors to snuggle up with our friends.  Usually this would happen when we felt a bit lonely, although in my case insomnia was a big reason for climbing into a buddy’s bed.  Having a chat with a mate was far less frustrating than lying in my own bed trying to force myself to sleep.

Nine times out of ten, we’d grow sleepy whispering quietly together and would both doze off in the narrow single bed.  If we did one or other of us would usually wake up at about four in the morning, cramped and aching, and either the interloper would quietly scuttle off back to his own bed or the bed’s rightful owner would turf him out so they could both get at least a couple of hours of proper shuteye.

If any sex was going to happen, it would usually kick off between about midnight and two.  Both boys, fast asleep, would enjoy having another body to hold and to press up against.  Cocks would start twitching and in no time would emerge engorged and expectant through pyjama openings.  They’d rub together, slowly and gently at first, nuzzling their bloated heads into each other and smearing trails of snail stickiness down their caressing shafts.  In time hips would start thrusting more strenuously, drowsy breathing would turn to urgent panting, and within minutes the whole bed would be vibrating and the sheets would be raised up in a mass of heaving and pumping.

Sometimes the two boys would try to fuck each other’s cocks, grabbing their friends’ by their buttocks and lunging their desperate hard-ons up against each other, gasping unseeing into each other’s faces.  More often, they’d wrap their hands around each other’s swollen shafts and start jerking off, boy pleasuring boy, making their bedsheets thump loudly up and down to the double rhythm of their two frantic elbows.

My first introduction to a breach of rule number six came within my very first term at the school.  One of the fourth formers in my dorm was a bit homesick and he’d often sneak out of the room after lights-out to snuggle up in the bed of his mate.

On this night Burrows, the friend, came to stay with Adams, the dorm-mate, and after a short whispered conversation which I couldn’t really hear, the two of them drifted off into a companionable slumber.

It must have been about one in the morning when the dream I was having was disturbed by a weird rhythmic squeaking.  Once I was properly awake, I realised it was the frame of Adams’ bed swaying from side to side and it’s obvious now that the two of them must have been rubbing their dicks up against each other, both probably still deeply asleep.

Gradually the squeaky see-sawing became louder and more rapid as both boys, now waking up, gasped in confusion on finding that their cocks had got up close and personal while they had been snoozing.  Whatever misgivings they’d both felt hadn’t been enough to slow the writhing of their bodies and they’d let their cocks go on cavorting, bloated and oozing, jabbing and bucking through their gaping pyjama flies.

Soon the thrusting of hips quietened down and became still as the two boys reached down to indulge each other’s organs with their hands.  They started panting together from the feel of each other’s fingers fondling at their throbbing erections, until touching and groping gave way to grasping and rubbing, and then all at once the noisy thumping of bedsheets started up like a rapid drumbeat.

Adams started grunting – Burrows sounded like he was wimpering – as they pounded at each other’s swollen manhoods as hard and as fast as they would their own.  They knew full well that the whole dorm would be wide awake and listening to what they were doing, but they were both enjoying each other’s hands pumping up and down far too much to care a jot.

For my part, I was greatly enjoying the show they were providing, hearing these two boys going at it so enthusiastically just a few feet from my bed. This was the infamous ‘mutual masturbation’ I’d heard whispered stories of and if Adams’ and Burrows’ performance was anything to go by, I hoped I would one day get to break rule number six myself!

The beating of bedsheets grew steadily louder and faster as my dorm-mate and his friend wanked each other as roughly as they could.  They were both panting breathlessly and both gasping out their own cries of pleasure as their two cocks swelled to a never-felt-before thickness, their veins bulging and straining against the feel of unfamiliar palms.

I was hard myself and had my dick out and was squeezing it.  I expect the five of us, all lying in our beds listening to Adams and Burrows hammering each other off, all had our fingers wrapped around our eager boners and were kneading them gently and silently.

There seemed to be an unspoken rule in our school that when two boys were pleasuring each other and breaking rule number six, any other cock fondling going on in the same dorm was carried out with due discretion.  It was as though mutual masturbation trumped all other forms of self-gratification and so when it was in full-swing, no matter which pair of boys had coupled up to indulge each other, all spectators were to restrain themselves as a sort of deference.

Adams’ cock exploded first with its owner snorting like a pig, and Burrows’ followed in quick succession as the smell of double-shot cum wafted thickly across the dorm.

As they both slumped back on Adams’ mattress, I half expected someone in the dorm to start up a slow applause.  But again, hearing two boys enjoy what we had just witnessed was rare and precious and was therefore accorded an appropriate level of respect.

Once the two of them had recovered their breath, Burrows got up and padded out of our dorm and back to his own bed.

Now an applause of sorts did start up as the five of us who had listened to the two friends going at it made our bedsheets start thumping up and down as we got to work rubbing at our eager cocks.  I imagine Adams smiled as he turned over to sleep, pleased that we were all beating off in appreciation of the far more boisterous performance he and Burrows had just given us.

I’d wondered if any of the guys would act different with Adams next day or maybe make a joke about what had happened.  But there was no mention of it at all – not even a quip about the fact we were all bleary-eyed at breakfast – and I figured that must be part of the respectfulness too.  My dorm-mates seemed to accept that these things happen to us all from time to time and there was no reason for anyone to make an issue of it.

Even Adams and Burrows behaved just the same with each other.  At morning prayers they were laughing and joking like they always did and there was none of the discomfort or embarrassment that I might have expected.

Boys who shared a bed together would sometimes get horny and would wank each other off.  That was all there was to it – no more, no less – and there was no point dwelling on it.

My own breaking of rule number six happened when I was in the fourth form myself.  I had this friend Adrian Morgan who I dossed about with and because he was in the same boarding house as me we used to sometimes sneak into each other’s beds for some nocturnal whispering.

This particular night, maybe an hour after lights-out when sleep was playing stubbornly hard to get, I’d sneaked along to Morgan’s bed to push him to one side so I could climb in with him.  He was feeling tired and was only half-awake so we didn’t chat about much, but it must have been winter so I stayed to share his body heat as our school-issue blankets weren’t exactly plush.

I must have dozed off around midnight and became dimly aware, an hour or so later, that something was rubbing up and down against my cock.  Once my half-conscious brain had remembered I was in Morgan’s bed, several thoughts occurred to me at once.  First, I was running a full boner in another boy’s bed.  Second, the thing had pushed outwards through my pyjama fly and was poking towards him.  Third, for some strange reason my sleeping friend was rubbing it.

Still mostly asleep, my main feeling was embarrassment that I’d worked my night-horn into what I assumed to be the back of Morgan’s hand.

I reached down to push his arm to one side and stash my throbbing dick back into my sleepwear, but to my surprise I found that the thing that was rubbing up against my cock was actually Morgan’s own large erection curving upwards from the front of his pyjamas.  From what I could feel of it, it was much longer and thicker than mine.  For a quiet, studious boy with little round glasses, Adrian Morgan could grow a hell of a big hard-on.

I’d seen the thing drooping between his legs in the showers after rugby, and when it was floppy it looked as unremarkable as mine.  But clearly when its owner was aroused it would lengthen and thicken disproportionate to his small, weedy frame, giving my fourth form friend an erection that was probably far bigger than those of most of our teachers’.

You might expect that the realisation that the two of us were rubbing our stiffies against each other would have woken me up and made me consider what to do next.  But it actually had the opposite effect on me: I felt more relaxed that I wasn’t the only one in the bed whose cock was up at full-crank and the way Morgan was gently rubbing himself against me showed that he was enjoying the sensation of us lying like this, his dick touching mine.

So I put my arm over him and settled down to join in, working my swollen chub up and down against his.  I fell back into a blissful half-sleep, basking in the delicate pleasure of rubbing cock against cock, and his bed started quietly creaking with the slow rhythm of our hips.

I think if sex between boys had always been like this, I’d have done a lot more of it during my time at the school.  It felt serene and sensual to slide our erections back and forth together, and I loved the quiet contentment of it, the tranquil bliss of our organs pulsing against each other as their shafts and heads massaged and caressed.

But usually when boys got together for sex, it was urgent and frantic: a cock hammering its load out down a not-so-eager throat or, in my final year at the school, being rammed rough and rapid up a hastily-lubed arse.  Such moments arose from desperate necessity, not intimacy or affection, and were usually brief and brutish, often dirty and smelly.

These lingering minutes of sex between me and Morgan felt like something very different.  I think we both lay there savouring the steady stimulation of each other’s penises, only half-aware of what we were doing we felt so fulfilled and relaxed.  That was certainly my experience of it and I hope that Morgan, now a lawyer somewhere by all accounts, looks back as fondly as I do on our first moments together of boy pleasuring boy.

It wasn’t to last though – of course it wasn’t!  We were two horny young lads and such subdued eroticism wasn’t going to satisfy us for long!

It’s difficult to know how long we rubbed our cocks together: we were both barely conscious and it could have been anything from a minute or less up to ten, maybe twenty, minutes of gentle, rhythmic humping.  By the time we were both getting so excited that we were waking up, the bed was rocking loudly back and forth.  Our organs were no longer caressing the soft warmth of each other’s shafts but rather jabbing their precum-soaked heads aggressively together and grinding their big, raised-up veins against one another as they thrust up and down.

What woke us both up was one of Morgan’s dorm-mates shining his torch across at us.  He must have been awoken by the sounds of two fourth-formers having sex in the bed opposite his and had wanted to see what exactly we were doing.

Neither of us cared that our throes of excitement were being watched.  I think we were both well aware that if one boy was watching us writhe and buck together, it was likely that all five of Morgan’s room-mates were similarly entranced.

I reached down to grab my cock so I could wank myself off but my hand groped Morgan’s much bigger member first so I wrapped my fingers around that and started jerking his foreskin up and down.  Morgan clearly enjoyed the feel of that because he pushed his hand down to find my cock and started rubbing it too.

We shifted positions, both clambering around to lie on our backs and then bucked our hips upwards so we could raise our cocks to full mast as we wanked each other off.  The bedsheet fell off us, exposing our two arched bodies to the light of the torch, but neither of us cared that the whole dorm could see our hands slamming up and down each other’s prongs – we beat each other off roughly and noisily, thrusting our hips to meet the pounding of each other’s fists.

I knew all the other boys’ faces would be agog, watching us frantically stroking each other like so many pairs of friends had before us.  Their hands would be on their own pricks, poking hot and swollen through their pyjama flies, but for now they’d contend with only fondling and squeezing them.  Like in my dorm, all solitary wrists would be restrained in deference while two boys were surrendering themselves to the impassioned pleasures of mutual masturbation.

They’d see Morgan’s hand around my cock, pounding faster and faster like a piston reaching full steam.  And mine sliding up and down his much longer, thicker organ, yanking his foreskin back and forth across its big plum head and squeezing the shaft as hard as I could as my wrist thumped loudly against his hip.

Whose balls had started twitching first?  I’m not entirely sure.  I was aware of my semen surging powerfully through my cock at the same time that I felt his splattering onto my forearm and running down my fingers. Perhaps our audience saw our spunk exploding in unison, thick ropes firing upwards into the air before coming back down and covering us both in its hot, sticky whiteness.

Before I was even out of his bed on the way back to my dorm, the boys around us had started their enthusiastic applause.  As I hurried out of the room, grinning broadly, they were noisily bashing their fists up and down against their bedsheets as the attended to the erections that our exuberant display had provoked.

Like Adams and Burrows, Morgan and I were the same around each other the following day and, while we never repeated our breaking of rule number six with each other, we continued to occasionally snuggle up together in the same bed.

I broke rule number six a few more times with different boys while I was at school, but I never again experienced that beautiful half-dreaming eroticism that I had when Adrian Morgan was rubbing his dick so sensually against mine.

 

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