Rules of Masturbation
by Jason Kason
RULE NUMBER SEVEN
- Persistent erections must be reported to matron. Boys must not use persistent erections as an excuse to masturbate excessively.
I don’t know a single boy who visited matron when his school trousers were raised up in permanent salute but I know plenty of boys who – like me – sneaked off with others when a wank-off just wasn’t enough.
It must have happened to pretty much every boy in the school at one time or another: no matter how often you managed to masturbate and how much spunk you managed to crank out of your dick, the thing was still rock hard again ten minutes later and you started to think you were going nuts from how horny you constantly felt.
I guess it was having so many other guys around all the time, all oozing testosterone from so many pairs of bollocks and wafting thick gusts of it around every time they unzipped their flies. The whole school seemed to be heaving with male pheromones and it was little wonder that even the most reserved of us sometimes needed a bit more than just a quick pull of our dicks to relieve so much tension.
I’ve mentioned before that homosexual activity wasn’t that common in our school and what little went on was mainly restricted to cock sucking.
Of course boys would sometimes masturbate each other when they were sharing a bed, but I wouldn’t class such moments as ‘homosexual’ as such – they were spontaneous releases of sexual energy and rarely repeated by the same pair of friends.
At the other extreme, anal sex between the boys in my school was a rarity – so much so that I didn’t even know what it was until I reached the sixth form. It went on, undoubtedly, in the darkest nooks and crannies of the boarding houses, and those who grew to enjoy the illicit pleasures such quiet couplings afforded would form long-term partnerships, sometimes lasting several years.
In the middle of the spectrum, though, were those of us who would occasionally kneel down to have a taste of another boy’s dick, as long as he was prepared to reciprocate fully in kind.
I first succumbed to what I’d call ‘oral release’ towards the end of the fourth form when hot weather combined with exam stress to work me up so I was as horny as a rabbit. My cock was aching from where was spending so many hours throbbing in my underpants and no matter how many times I asked to be excused from lessons so I could jerk it off in the boys’ toilets, by the time I returned to class the thing was tenting my trousers upwards again.
I was even considering making the dreaded trip to see matron just as Dominic Holden caught me on the way out of morning prayers.
Holden was in the fifth form, a year older than me, so up until then we hadn’t had much to do with each other. I guess he must have spied me across the chapel having to adjust the hard-on in my trousers all the way through the sermon and had figured I might be up for the two of us forming a short but mutually rewarding arrangement.
As I was leaving, he muttered, “Rule number seven?”
I couldn’t think what he meant and just stared back at him, letting all the other boys pass us by.
He smiled. “Won’t go down, will it?” And he glanced down at my bulging trousers.
That made me blush – I really hardly knew this guy – and he smiled more broadly so he I could tell he was being friendly and said, “Mine’s the same… do you want to meet up somewhere?”
“What for?” I asked. I really hadn’t a clue.
He looked around, seeing where the teachers were, and whispered more pointedly, “Rule number seven!”
I hadn’t twigged that this was a sort of codeword used between pairs of boys who were desperately horny, so I just said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
He shrugged and said, “Meet me behind the stage in the Hall at breaktime… I’ll show you…”
I nodded but I wasn’t really sure if I would. He could see I was horny and he was telling me he was horny too. So what was the point of us meeting up? Did he want us to pull our dicks out and compare which of us had the hardest and most painful boners? That didn’t sound like it would be much fun.
But during the first few lessons, curiosity started niggling at me and I got to thinking that maybe I should show up at break to see what Holden wanted. After all, he’d seemed friendly enough and he’d mentioned rule number seven which was indeed relevant to the peristent erection I just couldn’t seem to find any way of relieving.
So after the recess bell rang, I made my way to the back of the stage where there was a corridor and a few dressing rooms which were quiet at that time of day.
Holden was already waiting and smiled when I showed up.
“So you’ve really never done anything like this?” he asked me.
I shrugged and shook my head. “What are we going to do?”
“You’re running a boner, yeah? And you’re wanking off all the time but the thing just stiffens right back up?”
I nodded hesitantly, unsure of admitting to this boy I hardly knew that I was jerking myself off every chance I could. After all, rule number seven said we shouldn’t ‘masturbate excessively’ and maybe this numpty was going to dob me in.
But then he revealed that he did too and had a suggestion about how we could put it right.
“When two guys are horny and your pricks just won’t quit,” he explained, “we sometimes get together and do a rule number seven on each other.”
“How does that work?” I asked.
“Basically we suck each other’s dicks off,” he smiled.
“No way!” I laughed, turning to get the hell out of there. “I’m not going to do that!”
“Wait, listen!” he insisted, grabbing my shoulder to stop me. “Loads of guys do it… it’s just helping each other out!”
“I’m not going to suck your dick!” I told him, pulling away.
“I’ll suck yours first!” he implored me. “Believe me, Kason – it’s the only thing that’ll make your boner go down!”
I stopped and turned back to face him, intrigued that having someone else’s mouth around your cock might act as a sort of ‘cure’.
“It feels so good,” he went on, sensing I might be persuadable. “You get a proper release… so much better than your hand…”
“But I like girls…” I said, interested but uncertain.
“Me too, buddy,” he grinned, “but take a good look around ’cause I sure as hell don’t see any!”
I still wasn’t ready to agree to this, but I walked back over to him no longer determined to rule it out.
He said, “I’ll suck you and if you like it, I’ll teach you how to suck me…”
“You’ll teach me?”
“Yeah, you don’t just suck it like a lolly… there’s more to it than that…”
“I don’t want to learn how to eat dick!”
My dad wasn’t paying half his salary to put me through school so I could learn how to gob other boys’ chubs off at breaktime.
He laughed and nodded. “If you want another guy to do it to you the way you like it, you’ve got to know how to show him a good time too. It’s a matter of give and take…”
“It’s not like I’m not going to start doing this regularly…”
“You say that now, Kason, but next time your dick’s on permanent stalk and someone whispers ‘rule number seven’, are you going to turn the offer down?”
I nodded back. “Okay… show me what to do.”
He smiled. “Pull your knob out and I’ll give you a demo.”
I did as he said, extracting it from my briefs and easing through my zip as gently as I could because it felt so sore. I half-wondered if this would be the moment that Holden’s invitation had actually been a set-up and that some of his friends were about to emerge guffawing from where they’d been hiding in the dressing rooms.
But once my cock was out the only sound was a gasp from Holden when he saw how red and inflamed it was.
“Bloody hell, bud!” he said with genuine concern. “How long’s it been like that?”
“I dunno… about four days… I’ve been wanking it non-stop but it just won’t go down…”
He reached out and tenderly wrapped his fingers around it. They were cold but the sensation was blissfully soothing the way the shaft was pounding and the veins raised up with so much hot blood.
He gently squeezed it and I cried out, “Oh God, yes!”
“You need a mouth around it, Kason… sucking all the heat out of it!”
“Do it then!” I urged him. “Suck it dead hard!”
Holden squatted down and my angry hard-on pounded insistently towards his face.
He looked up at me and smiled. “You so need this!”
Then he leant forwards with his mouth wide open as my dick twitched eagerly in anticipation of being consumed.
I’d always wondered what it would be like to get my cock sucked – which boy hasn’t? – but had assumed that my first blowjob would be performed by a girl. Now that it had turned out to be another guy kneeling in front of my hard-on, I was actually quite relieved – it wouldn’t matter if my dick was a bit whiffy, if my dribble tasted nasty or if I shot off too soon. With a boy, it wasn’t important to get it all perfect first time and if it did go wrong it seemed clear that quiet hook-ups like this weren’t something that were ever spoken about afterwards.
He took the top few inches of my organ into his mouth and gently closed his lips around my shaft. It felt so exquisite I couldn’t help but moan with delight and when he lapped at the underside of my cock head with his tongue I couldn’t stop myself from shuddering and panting it felt so good.
I grabbed his head and tried to fuck his mouth, but he pulled away from my cock and grinned up at me again.
“You’re not going to last long, are you?”
“About five seconds,” I managed to gasp.
He chuckled and stood up, already unzipping himself. “Well, let me show you how to give good head and then I promise I’ll suck all the spunk out of your balls!”
“Can’t you finish me first and then show me?” I whined. I really wanted to fuck his face!
“You won’t be in the mood,” he said, reaching inside his fly to manoeuvre his cock out of his underwear. “You’re going to get such a strong release, you’re going to just want to catch your breath before the bell goes again.”
I nodded. I suspected that the real reason was that he suspected if I came so soon I’d zip up and leave him without returning the oral favour. Perhaps he’d hooked up with first-timers before and had been left with a stiffie that hadn’t even been licked.
He pulled his rock hard cock out through his fly and it curved upwards, gently pulsing, with its skin pulled right back and its single eye peering up at me.
“Kneel down,” he commanded me, “and do to my prick what I just did with yours.”
I squatted down like he had, wondering if this made me a cocksucker, and had a good look at his knob before I went down on it. It was about the same length as mine but maybe a little bit thicker and the head of it was a reddish-purple, quite dry and with dull, pasty skin; not wet and shiny like mine looks when I pull my foreskin back. It smelt sour and musky like my dorm-room after lights-out when the six of us were all merrily bashing away at our cocks poking through our pyjama flies.
I put my mouth around his dick, finding I actually quite liked the sharp acrid taste, and he started barking out instructions to guide me as to what to do.
“Use your tongue on it more. Lick the ridge underneath where the two lobes join with the stem.”
Just as I figured out how to do that, he ordered: “Work more spit into your mouth… you need it really wet…”
I thought of eating something really tasty and that seemed to please him.
“Okay, now press your lips harder around the shaft… no, not your teeth!”
I pulled back, afraid I was hurting him, but he grabbed my head and eased it forwards and back.
“Come on, sweep up and down it, like you’re wanking it off with your mouth. Ah yeah… that’s it… work it nice and fast…”
He let go of my head and I bobbed it back and forth against his crotch, developing a rough, rapid rhythm. Every time I got close to the front of his trousers I could smell the piss he’d dribbled which had dried and gone whiffy, and my chin would press into his two big bollocks bulging outwards through his trousers on both sides of his zipper.
“And don’t forget your tongue,” he called out. “Swirl around the head of it until you feel it throb.”
It was like blowjob bootcamp and I wasn’t really enjoying it. But if it meant I got him to put his mouth back on my prick – and for other boys to do the same when we did a rule number seven together – then it would be well worth getting cheek-ache for.
“Okay, I’m getting close,” he said. “When it shoots, drink it down – don’t let it make a mess.”
I kept sucking with my throat and swirling with my tongue, not sure if I liked the idea of swallowing Dominic Holden’s spooge but figuring I’d give it a go if it was part of the drill. Some boys had bright white spunk that stunk like cheese; others produced a clearer discharge with hardly any smell at all. I hoped it was the same with taste and that my blowjob buddy would turn out to make watery batter.
“Put your hands on my arse with your fingers in my crack.”
Now that was way too much for me. I pulled back off his dick and called up to him, “I’m not doing that!”
“Come on, Kason – just do what I say. It’s how to get a lad to cum when he’s getting really close!”
I suddenly thought back to the Maths lesson where Mr Dunning had made Jeremy Patterson’s wank come to an abruptly sticky end by pushing a finger into the seat of his school trousers. Maybe Holden had a point and boys’ arseholes acted like spunk-off buttons once their balls were tingling, so I got back to work slobbering away at his thick prick and reached behind him to cup his butt-cheeks with both hands.
“Ah yeah… that’s it!” he panted, working his hips in time with the relentless sweeping of my mouth. “Now push your fingers in between my buns until you can feel my pookie…”
I did as he was asking, feeling slightly disgusted to be touching another boy between his cheeks, even though his underpants and trousers were between my skin and his. I felt a hot patch low down where the pudgy skin of his bum was firmer and raised up a bit and he seemed to like me rubbing around that.
“Oh god yeah… push really hard right there! Give me a browner on the back of my pants!”
I pushed hard against his hole – so hard that I could still smell his bum-stink on my finger in the lessons after lunch – and to my relief that made his cock start spewing.
I swallowed his seed as quickly as he could shoot it, my Adam’s apple bobbing away as I frantically gulped it down. His spunk tasted, to my mind, like mushy peas – not unpleasant as such, but something you don’t want that often.
After he’d emptied his bollocks and my throat had done its best to receive his outpouring, he said, “Careful when you pull back. Don’t get any spunk on my trousers… sometimes it makes sticky strings between your lips and my knob.”
I withdrew my mouth very carefully from his softening girth, concerned that once the mushroom head had been released he would stash himself away and head off without making good his promise to relieve me.
But Holden turned out to be true to his word. It seemed that in situations such as ours, when boys were driven to go down on each other from both having pricks so painfully boned-up, gentlemen’s agreements were strictly honoured.
He knelt back down in front of me, his cock still withering from his fly, and grinned up, “I know you’re too wound up to care, but try and notice when I blow you that I use all the tricks that I told you to use on mine!”
I nodded, mainly at the part about being too wound up to care. I was almost shaking with anticipation at feeling the same sensation I’d felt ten minutes ago.
He put his hands up to grab my bumcheeks and asked, “You don’t mind if my finger makes a little brown circle on the back of your pants?”
I shrugged. “They’re probably brown already!”
He laughed at that and then, without further ado, leaned forwards to ingest a good three-quarters of my cock before getting to work slurping his lips back and forth.
I was in immediate heaven, my whole brain consumed by the intensity of the pleasure surging upwards from my penis. He used every trick he’d taught me – and probably a whole lot more – to make me writhe and squirm and cry out like a little girl, as he slid his lips hard and fast up and down my aching hard-on and sniffed my piss around my fly just like I had smelled his.
The end of recess bell rang out but I was too far gone to care. I grabbed his head with both hands and thrust my hips in time with his sucking, fucking his mouth as roughly as I could.
I realised that the discomfort of having to suck another boy’s cock paled into insignificance compared with the ecstasy I was now feeling having him take his turn on me. It would be worth bobbing my head against five boys’ trouser fronts – even have ten fat dicks jizzing off down my throat – to feel just once the incredible sensation of lips and tongue wrapped around my six inches of wood.
But even that was nothing compared to what I was about to experience. Perhaps surprised I was taking so long or conscious that breaktime was over and we should be getting back to class, Holden worked his fingers into my arse crack and started grinding them into my pucker, making me gasp with delight.
I’d never felt anything like it and was amazed that it was possible to get pleasure from my bum as well as my cock. I could now understand this older boy’s insistence that I push my fingers into his hot little dumpster when I’d been slurping him off.
I called out, “Oh God! Yeah!” And that was when my spunk started flowing.
Even as I was squirting it down Holden’s throat and he was doing his best to drink it, I was thinking how the back of my underpants were going to stink my laundry bag out from where Holden’s finger had been pushing them up into my bunghole.
The sense of release was unbelievable. Holden had been right: sometimes a guy needs a bit more than his own hand to relieve the pressure in his balls. As my jizz pumped in long, copious surges out of my cock, I felt a welcome sense of calm envelop me and I knew that the hard-on that had plagued me was finally going to wither.
Once he’d gulped down all my semen, we disentangled ourselves, stashed our dicks away and then quickly headed back to our lessons.
I never hooked up with Holden again; in fact, I never did it twice with any of the boys I got together with for some furtive fellatio. Not that I did it often – maybe once or twice a term at most – but sometimes when my dick got so swollen I could hardly sleep, I just had to look out for some other poor sod in the same state as me so I could catch them quietly and mutter, “Rule number seven?”
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