Willing for a Shilling

by N Fourbois

"OMG, no!" exclaimed Patrick as he was lying in bed with his life partner Alex, watching the late night bulletin on the news channel.

"What's up, Paddy?" he asked.

"Listen."

«The death was announced earlier today of the millionaire entrepreneur, farmer and businessman Sir William Schelling.»

"I was at school with him. He was in my year. Willing for a Shilling we used to call him. It was thanks to him I discovered I was queer."

"Gay, luv," interrupted Alex.

"No, queer. Gay didn't have that meaning in those days."

«He leaves a considerable fortune tied up in property, a chemical business and logistics, as well as a widow and three sons. He was fifty-six.»

"That makes me feel old."

"You'll never grow old in my eyes," said Alex, leaning over to kiss his partner on the cheek. "So what's the story behind Sir William Schelling?"

Patrick picked up the remote and put the mute on the television. He put his arm round Alex and they snuggled up together.

"They ought to get me to write his obituary for the Telegraph , or at least the schooldays part of his biography. Are you sitting comfortably?" Alex made an affirmative grunt. "Then I'll begin."

"Just a minute." He wriggled around. "You've made me chub up."

"It's always my fault when that little man of yours becomes a big man."

"Mmm, I know. That's why I love you."

"There's plenty of time for that later." Patrick was silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts together.

"Will Schelling was a popular boy. It was part of his business plan. Even back in those days we knew he was going to make himself rich. He started little businesses in the school at the age of twelve, buying and selling, making things to sell. If you've unwrapped something bought at the supermarket, you have probably contributed to his fortune. With a name like Schelling we thought he must be a Jew, but as we learnt a bit more – about him and about life – we knew better. You only had to see him in the showers, realise that his father ran a pig farm and that his parents were pillars of their parish church for that myth to be destroyed. However, one little business he started in the second form and developed in the third form made his name as an entrepreneur at school. You know, he became the school's first rentboy, another term we didn't know at school.

"Puberty was kind to him. It came early and enhanced rather than destroyed his good looks. He had fair, wavy and wiry hair. You wouldn't have dreamt that he'd end up bald like he was in that picture. He had the rosy cheeks you associate with life on the farm and he didn't have to go to the gym. Heaving bales and herding pigs gave him a natural sixpack. He was the first boy I fell in love with, but I had to pay for it."

"In what way?"

"Literally, but we haven't got that far yet. As I say, by the third form he had a fully developed rentboy's body. He knew it and he exploited it for financial gain. To begin with, he knew his classmates admired him in the showers and he played up to it. Life on the farm meant he saw sex in the raw and it also taught him how to pick out a good beast when he saw one. It was nothing for him to be picked out as a 'top class beast' by the senior boys, either."

"And all this at school, Paddy?"

"Well, the conditions were right. A large all boys grammar school on the edge of a country town in its own extensive grounds. Plenty of places to hide. Boarders and dayboys and there was certainly a gay underworld among the boarders which Willing for a Shilling gained an entrée to. I never did, despite all my efforts.

"Will became the centre of attention among older boys, particularly boarders, and he was quite willing to give them what they wanted… at a price."

"Didn't any of the staff get to hear about this?"

"Oh, yes, but not in the way you're thinking."

"How do you mean?"

"The school had a very tolerant attitude towards homosexuality. I never heard of anyone being punished or expelled for it. It hadn't been made legal for long when I was there. It was an all male teaching staff and many of the masters were known to be gay."

"Queer, luv," said Alex. "Gay didn't have that meaning back then."

"Alex, will you keep quiet and listen to my pearls of wisdom," exclaimed Paddy and gave his partner's balls a friendly squeeze. "In fact it was thought, but never proved, that a couple of them were on his list of clientele."

"He was a boarder?"

"No, we were both dayboys."

"So how did you get involved?"

"It was in the fourth form, I think. I was absentmindedly checking him out in the showers…"

"As you do."

"Will noticed, not only that I was checking him out, but that I was growing a boner. 'Like what you see?' he grinned. 'Yeah,' I replied, 'and how.' 'You can touch it if you like.' I gave him a good feel and then he felt mine. It felt better than any wank I'd ever had. He knew what he was doing and I thought that was it, but a couple of days later I was sitting next to him in maths and admiring his package. He knew how to dress. Then I got a stiffie which I could in no way disguise. 'Nice boner,' he whispered in my ear. 'I could sort that for you at break.' At the end of the lesson we went off behind the boiler house, he unzipped my trousers and he had my prick out before I could protest – not that I wanted to – and was wanking it. Then he knelt down and put it into his mouth. The first blowjob I ever had.

"At home I couldn't reproduce anything like it and I got so frustrated. I said to Will 'How about another BJ?' 'Sure,' he replied, 'but you know this is one of my little businesses, don't you?' I nodded. "I'll have to charge you. I can't keep giving freebies in working hours. 6d for a wank and a shilling for a BJ.' 'Okay,' I agreed. 'I'll take a shilling's worth, 5p these days, but a big whack of pocket money in those times. That afternoon he delivered behind the potting shed. He obviously knew what time the gardeners went off for their lunch. After that I never looked back. I had no interest in girls, especially if I could get satisfaction like that from another boy.

"Still, this is about Willing for a Shilling, not me. If he taught me one thing, it was if you were in business you had to establish a need before selling something. He certainly did that in me and by distributing free samples he did with a number of other boys, too. Success breeds success and he couldn't cope with the business. He could have put up his prices, but he was never greedy. He did it for fun and earnt a few coppers on the side. Mind you, the prices did go up if you wanted to do something penetrative either way or if you wanted to give him an orgasm, purely because it took him out of circulation longer in business hours. Time is money. He was the first person I heard say that.

"The spin off for me was that I got together with Martin Woods, another boy in my class with whom Willing for a Shilling had established a need. I wouldn't call us boyfriends. We didn't date or anything. It's just that we'd go to each other's house after school or at weekends when we knew our parents were out and do stuff together there. If we were really desperate, we'd do it at school, but that wasn't very often. He was the one that taught me to snog. I don't think snogging was on Will's tariff.

"That's about it. Will always had his eye on the ball as far as business was concerned. There was a major shift when he realised that he was no longer the attractive young lush, but had grown into quite an attractive senior hunk. He used to search out the up and coming young lushes, establish a need with them and arrange assignations for them on a franchise basis, taking a cut of their earnings. There would have been hell to pay if it had got out that he was a pimp at school. No knighthood for him. I don't know what happened to him after we left school, apart from the fact that his name would frequently appear in the financial pages. Interesting. He obviously wasn't queer. It was just business to him. I'm looking forward to reading his obituary."

"Mmm, interesting," echoed Alex. "All that talk of blowjobs has made me feel horny."

"When weren't you?" Patrick zapped the television. Alex drew back the duvet and, poised over his partner, took his cock into his mouth.

"You know, Paddy, your pubes could do with a shave," he mumbled.

"I promise I'll get one in the morning. Just stop talking and keep working your tongue. Aaah, that's gorgeous. I love you so much."

© N Fourbois 2013

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