Mark and Me

by c m

Chapter 1

The story is set in time when the internet was still in its infancy, and when mobile phones were the size (and weight) of a housebrick, and their used confined to a few business men.

Finally, I would welcome any comments you have to give. If you want to take the time to email me please feel free to do so by clicking the link behind my name at the head of each chapter

I hope you all enjoy the story.

It all started after a pick-up game of football one Sunday afternoon. The way of it was that you played until you had had enough, then just dropped out and one of those waiting - there were always a few - would take your place.

As I left the field, Mark, a good-looking boy in my house the year below me, ran past and said, "Keep a space in the bath for me."

I should explain. The changing rooms were as they had been for years. In our house, The Grange, they consisted of a changing area full of pegs and shoe lockers where we kept our kit, with a doorway leading through into a massive square, stone-floored washroom. The washroom contained a row of sinks along one wall and three large baths, one of which had an elderly, and not very effective, shower head bolted to the wall above it along the opposite wall. There were hooks to hang towels on the third wall. Bathing protocol was long- established. It was generally accepted that each bath - and they were big - could hold two or even three boys at once. It was all a question of what you did with your feet.

The custom was not to fill the second, or third, bath until at least two people were using the first or second one. It saved on hot water. It was permissible, once the water got sufficiently dirty from the passage through it of dirty legs, hands and faces, for one boy to pull himself to the tap end and then propel himself backwards to empty a wave of water over the floor, whence it gurgled down a central drain in the floor. The bath was then refilled with clean, hot water to the level that two boys, sitting in it, would bring to the top of the bath. This resulted in a hot, if still somewhat opaque, liquid which would be fit for the next eight or so occupants.

When I got to the changing room, one bath was already filled and occupied by my friend Andy and Dave, a boy from another house, with whom he had been playing squash. There was nothing unusual in this; the rules about which changing room you used after sport were relaxed on Sundays, although for the rest of the week, boys were permitted only to use the facilities of their own house. I waved a greeting at them and went over to the third bath (which was a little bigger than the other two) and turned on the taps. A satisfying wave of steam came up as it filled rapidly. Whatever the age of the system, there was no denying that it produced a lot of very hot water and the taps were giant affairs that delivered it hard and fast. I wandered back into the adjoining changing room and stripped off my kit. My boots went back in their locker under my peg, and my shirt and shorts and jock into the canvas bag hanging from the peg above. My socks needed a wash and I put them into the laundry bin in the corner of the room. I grabbed my towel, held it loosely round my waist, and went back into the washroom just in time to turn off the taps which had now done their job of filling the bath to within nine inches of the top. I hung my towel up, walked over to the bath, stepped over the side of it and sank into the welcoming embrace of the hot water. Only then did I begin to think about what Mark had said as I left the game. Maybe it meant nothing and he was just saying he'd be back soon and would be needing a bath. But why 'keep a space'? I shook my head. Who could tell.

Now I'm no angel. I have all the hormones a normal healthy seventeen year old ought to have coursing through my system. And it was an all-boys school. The inevitable outcome was that, having discovered the joys of wanking at twelve, by fifteen I had discovered that even more pleasure was to be had from doing it with someone else. Mutual masturbation was pretty normal - and that's all it was. You did it with someone of your own age who was a wank buddy rather than a friend. And there was no more to it than that. Johnny had been my wank buddy since the end of the first year when we discovered we both wanted the same thing, and we would usually find a way to do it a couple of times a week. Except for those terms when we were put in the same dorm - which had happened three times - at which point it happened pretty much every night. This term, however, was different. Johnny had had a serious accident during the holidays and wasn't due back for at least another eight weeks - and probably not until next term. And I was now missing him like hell.

Mark floated back into my mind. Despite the fact that we were in different years, we both played hockey for the school first XI - Mark was a precociously talented player - and, as is the way of these things, him being the youngster of the team and us being in the same house, we had got to know each other quite well the previous term; he often sat next to me as we travelled to away matches, and chose to change next to me. I had thought that this was just the comfort of knowing me better than the other boys at the time....but maybe there was more to it than that. He had also, by chance, chosen the same A-levels as me and being a year ahead, I had helped him out with questions and some of the notes from the previous year. As we became friends, it even turned out that we liked the same music.

He had been a good-looking boy when he came to the school three years earlier, and had got more and more striking as he matured. Mousey brown hair, but electric blue eyes, great bone structure and a really nice smile. OK, so he was in the year below me, but that was just about OK as we were more or less the same age. I was young for my year and he was old for his. An accident of birth date. I stopped. 'OK?'. OK for what? I had to admit that I was mentally thinking about him as a replacement for Johnny - and my body was clearly way ahead of me - as my thickening cock proved. I hastily started washing myself with the hard, slightly gritty soap that the school provided, which turned the water opaque and hid my potential embarrassment. I needed to get a grip. What on earth was I thinking about. Fortunately, my reverie was broken as Andy asked me a question which took us into a discussion. My incipient erection disappeared and everything was back to normal.

The weather outside had been cold and, after ten minutes in the hot water, the heat from the bath was only soaking slowly through my bones. Sitting in a bath for forty minutes or more was nothing unusual on a Sunday - there was precious little else to do on those long, dark winter afternoons. Then I heard the sound of someone entering the changing room and, a couple of minutes later, Mark appeared. He had slung his towel over his shoulder rather than wrapping it around his waist, and, looking at him, I had to admit that he had a pretty good body to go with those looks. Of course, I'd seen him naked before - every boy in the house must have seen all the others naked hundreds of times (barring one or two very shy boys who did all they could to retain their modesty) - but I had to admit I was taking more of an interest than I usually did.

He hung his towel on the peg next to mine, walked over, and climbed into the bath. I had opted for the 'tap' end, and he sat down opposite me, and leaned back, the water coming up to around halfway up his chest. In line with protocol, my legs were together on one side and his were on the other under the water. Inevitably, they were touching slightly - but that too was perfectly normal.

"Thanks for keeping a space for me." He smiled. I shrugged - but smiled back. What happened next was not in the protocol. Mark moved his right leg, which had been lightly laying against mine, over both it and my left leg. This left both my legs between his, although still a respectable foot or so from his groin. Then he started to slide slowly down the back of the bath, the water getting closer and closer to his chin. It was decision time. My head screamed at me to be careful. My body was telling me, urgently, that this was Mark's decision and that I should just go with it. I caved in. I turned my right foot sideways until it lay on the inside of his left thigh and moved it an inch or two up and down. Mark smiled, closed his eyes, and slid further down. His chin touched the water, and his balls touched my foot. I pressed my toes forward, encountering the base of his - clearly extremely hard - cock. Pretending that the taps were awkward on my back, I shifted myself forward an inch or two, enabling me to run my foot up the length of his erection. Mark emitted a low sigh. I decided that it was time to use the soap. It slipped - almost accidentally - out of my hand and down between Mark's legs. I reached down to find it, taking the opportunity to wrap my hand round his cock and give it a couple of strokes. Then I found the soap, leaned back, and began to use it under my armpits. Reaching down to wash the soap off, I took hold of his left leg and put it over my right one, bringing his foot just a whisker away from my own groin. I inched forward until I could feel the sole of his foot against me. I saw his eyebrows momentarily flicker upwards. I smiled.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" I looked across and saw Dave staring pointedly at me. I guess our respective movements had not been quite as discreet as I had hoped.

"I'm having a bath. What are you doing?"

"You're disgusting. Fucking perverts."

Now I'm a mild-mannered guy. Normally I would have backed off - but something snapped. Dave was a jerk.

"Chill out. You telling me you never wank? That you never do it with someone else? I bet Andy would love you to wank him off. Ask him."

"Fuck off, Chris", said Andy - but in a conversational, rather than offended, way.

"I'm not sitting here while you do that". Dave heaved himself out of the bath, stamped over to his towel and stalked out of the washroom.

Dave's head appeared back in the doorway. "Are you coming Andy? You don't approve of what those perverts are doing do you?"

Andy looked across at me and shrugged. He stood up, stepped out of the bath and walked over to his towel. I noticed two things. First, he hadn't said a word, and second, his cock looked rather thicker and longer than it had last time I had seen it. I filed the information away in my mind and turned my concentration back to Mark.

"That was amazing - what you said to him. I was embarrassed and already to protest."

"Dave's a tosser - literally. And Andy's a good friend. No...," I said, seeing Mark about to say something, "not like that. Just a friend. He'll be cool with us."

Mark smiled. "Well, I'm pleased he's gone, because I've been wanting to do this with you for a long time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I didn't know. Well, usually I have...someone else...to help me out. God, I don't mean that like it sounds, it's not that you're second best or anything, I..."

"Yeah. It's Johnny. I know."

"You know?" Then I thought, heck, everyone probably knew about me and Johnny - it wasn't like we made any secret of it.

He nodded. "It's OK. It's cool. And....well...Johnny...umm...helped me out a couple of times last term, and I asked him who else he did it with and he said you so I thought maybe since he isn't here it would be OK to take his place as we...well...kinda... have you in common, and like I say, I've wanted this for a long time so..."

I sat back to absorb what he had said. "You and Johnny huh?" and then the funny side struck me. And then the fact that he was a whole lot better-looking than Johnny. And my body was definitely saying yes.

"Oh hell, why not. So, let's see what you've got. Stand up - back to the door just in case. I want a good close-up look.'

Mark smiled again and slowly stood up, body bent over at first to hide his groin. Then he straightened up and I got my first, proper look at him in all his glory. I realised that he was, indeed, very good-looking. Very, very good-looking. Sexy in fact. Sexy? Did I really just use that word? Guess I did. Up close I could also see that he had a really good, firm chest and stomach with the very early beginnings of a six-pack. He was smooth except for a little hair under his arms and a tight, tidy mass of pubic hair below which his cock was jutting out. It was pink like the rest of his skin - hardly darker at all - with a blue vein running up the underside. Not long, not short. Not fat, not thin. Just an average, uncircumcised cock.

"Very nice. I think we should get back to where we were."

He sat back down. We topped up the water and proceeded to gently wank each other off with our feet and then our hands. I could feel myself getting close.

"I'm going to cum, Mark."

"Me too. Let's go for it."

Seconds later two strings of white were floating up through the water as we climaxed within seconds of each other.

"God Chris, that was fantastic."

"Yeah, it was good Mark. Enjoyed it." I paused. I knew what I wanted and now wasn't the time to hold back. "Want to go again? Somewhere more....private?"

Mark's eyes sparkled. "Wow. Umm...yes please."

"OK, let's make sure the evidence disappears down the plughole then we better go get some clothes on."

We emptied the bath, ensuring that the evidence was all washed away and headed for the changing room. There was no-one around as we towelled ourselves dry. Mark reached across and put his hand between my legs.

"Not here."

"Yes, here." So I stood there, towel around my shoulders, as Mark went to work on me. I could both feel and see the blood pumping back into my cock as it jerked itself upright, but then we heard the unmistakeable sounds of someone coming along the corridor so hurriedly pulled on shirts and pants, with a respectable distance between us, as another one of the footballers tramped back into the room.

"Good game?" I asked.

Peter, another boy in my year with whom I was friendly, nodded. "Yeah. We missed your touch though. Is the water hot?"

"Certainly is - though you'll need to run a fresh bath. The one on this end is stone cold and I emptied mine - full of mud."

"Okay, see you later."

Mark had left the changing room during this exchange, and as I went out into the corridor, I wondered where he had gone. He had got me, I had to admit, all fired up. Johnny and I didn't often wank off twice in a row - although we had done so - but I definitely wanted another round with Mark. Right now.

As I passed the JCR, Mark slipped out. We smiled at each other. "So...where do we go?" he asked.

A slightly wicked thought crossed my mind. "Well, where did you do it with Johnny?"

Mark giggled. "I'll show you."

As we walked down the corridor, a thought occurred to me.

"So who's your usual wank-buddy, Mark?"

"Fergus Attwell."

I nodded. Fergus was a boy in the same year as Mark. I didn't know him well, but he was a generally nice guy, not bad-looking - and a useful cricketer.

We walked across the quad to the main block that housed classrooms and the School House changing rooms on the ground floor. Studies for the fifth formers occupied the first floor and there were dormitories above that. But Mark took me along the ground floor corridor to a door which led down to the boiler room that supplied the heating and hot water for that block.

The basement had a number of locked doors going off it before ending in the boiler room itself. I assumed that that was where we were going (it was somewhere I had used with Johnny), but to my surprise, Mark produced a key and opened one of the locked doors.

"Where the heck did you get that?"

"Johnny got it. I don't know how exactly, but he did. I keep it safe in the JCR - that was what I was getting while you were talking. You want to do it where Johnny and I did it. I had the same thought. Guess I'm as wicked as you."

I was really starting to like Mark. "You little devil. Come on then."

The door opened into a pair of small rooms connected by an open doorway. In the second room were a collection of old chairs, desks and discarded gym equipment including some mats. Mark pulled a couple of the mats out and put them on the floor. The atmosphere was warm - presumably from the boiler room next door - and there was light from a weak, naked bulb in the ceiling.

I wondered why Johnny had never brought me here. It was as though he could read my thoughts.

"If you're wondering why Johnny never brought you here, he only found the key to this place at the end of last term. He told me he was looking forward to doing it down here with you - especially if you weren't in the same dorm."

"So how many times have you been down here with him?"

"Just once. It was while you were away on that week's hockey tour when I was injured."

Fair enough, I supposed. After all, I was about to do pretty much the same thing in the absence of my regular buddy. I looked around the room, taking in what else was there. Obviously some kind of store room. Didn't look like anyone had been down here (on legitimate business anyway) for a while. I turned back round to find that Mark was naked except for his undies.

"Clothes off, huh?"

"Why not. It's warm, we have mats, less risk of making a mess on our clothes." He giggled again. "C'mon, get 'em off."

I stripped slowly, enjoying the fresh and unexpected pleasure that it was undoubtedly giving me of being watched by another boy who clearly wanted me at least as much as I wanted him. Down to my briefs, I slipped them off, revealing my arousal. Mark went to take his pants off, but I stopped him, holding his arms.

"Allow me."

I wasn't quite sure what had come over me, it was not something I had ever done - or thought about doing - before, but I knew that I wanted to be the one who revealed this boy's nakedness. I pulled the front of his pants forward to get them over his erection, slid them down his legs and threw them onto the rest of our pile of clothes.

I was feeling things I hadn't felt and didn't understand, but I knew that I wanted to pull him to me and hold him. So I did. I felt his hands close round my back, pulling our groins tightly into each other. Then he leant forward and kissed me. It was so unexpected my head shot backwards. I could see fear in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry.. I shouldn't have..."

"No, no...it's OK...I...I...I liked it. I just...it's just...I didn't...I haven't...this...well...this isn't what I've done with Johnny."

"Me neither. We just wanked off. But you make me feel different. You always have. It's why I've been wanting you so much. I didn't know how. I didn't see how we could. And then..."

I held him at arms' length. "And then Johnny. Did you use Johnny to get to me?"

He was trembling now. This sweet boy was trembling. He nodded miserably before whispering, so that I could barely hear him,

"Yes, I wanted you so badly. I thought maybe, after he and I had done it together a few times, that I could persuade Johnny that we could all three wank off together - that way at least I would have a bit of you. But when he didn't come back this term, I thought it was a gift from heaven. I'm so sorry."

I lifted his head up so our eyes met. Those perfect blue eyes were full of tears.

"It's OK Mark. You have nothing to be sorry for. I don't know what the hell's happening, but I'm feeling things I never felt before. Don't get me wrong, I still want to wank with you - over and over and over, in fact. But I think there's more. Stuff I never felt with Johnny. That kiss. It's never even crossed my mind to kiss Johnny. But I think I want to kiss you."

And with that I put my hands either side of his head and pulled his lips to mine. We kissed. And then kissed again.

I felt his arms pulling me down and we first knelt and then lay on one of the old, musty mats. Our hands found each other and we stroked each other gently at first and then with growing passion until, with a moan, Mark came. I was only a few seconds behind him. We lay there, silent, unspeaking, gathering our breath, panting from our exertions. He turned his head and looked at me.

"That was amazing" he said. You make me cum like I've never cum before. And that was number two. You make me feel so good, Chris, you have no idea.'

"You make me feel good too, Mark. Really, really good. Like I've never felt before in fact."

And that was the truth. I knew, deep down inside, that something was very, very different. This wasn't how wank buddies felt about each other.

We lay there looking into each other's eyes, exchanging little kisses for maybe five, maybe ten minutes. Time seemed somehow to collapse. I stroked his hair, pushing it away out of his eyes. To my great surprise, I felt my loins stirring again.

"Fancy going for number three?", I asked.

"Now who's the little devil?" He laughed. "Mmm....let's go for it."

It took longer this time. A lot longer. Partly because we had come twice already, but mostly because this time we took our time. I sat on his knees and we took it in turns to hold both of our cocks together against each other, stroking one another to a climax. We cleaned up using a handkerchief in my pocket - we christened it our Wanky Hanky - and it stayed with us every time we wanked off - which was often - for the rest of term.

We dressed, kissed again and agreed that we needed to be careful. What we had done was common - but how we felt was not. You didn't 'have feelings' for a wank buddy. It was just relief. But I knew that that wasn't how I felt about Mark, and it was evident that he certainly didn't feel that way about me. In public, we needed to be friendly but nothing more. In private, we met as often as we could over the next four weeks, every couple of days in fact, and grew progressively closer and closer. And I found myself thinking about him. A lot. By the end of term, Mark and I knew that we had feelings for each other that went way beyond being wank buddies or even just good friends. The thought of not seeing each other over the vacation was not one that either of us viewed with any pleasure. So we set to thinking about how we might meet up.

Talk about this story on our forum
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily. Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. If the email address pastes with %40 in the middle, replace that with an @ sign.]