by Rafael Henry
I must have been tired after yesterday because the first thing I knew about Monday morning was having my shoulder shaken by Max. I was obviously the last in the line to we woken as one or two of the boys had their feet on the ground. I looked across at Jamie who looked very worse for wear sitting on the edge of his bed staring down at his fine upstanding cock. Mark and Tom hadn't stirred at all by the look of them, so Max went over and had another attempt with little result. John was awake but not about to get out of bed.
'I'll be back in five minutes. Make sure you're out of bed by then please boys.'
That was nice hearing him say that. Very masterful. I like that.
Max, as good as his word, was back within five minutes, probably a bit less. Mark and Tom had their pj's bottoms off, and were standing folding them up neatly, hair all over the place. Tom made his way past Max to the wet room, sporting a very nice one. I saw Max look and I hope he approved. When Mark turned round his penis looked like it had been the centre of very recent attention, and was rather pink and unusually limp looking. I was as hard as a nail and so was Jamie, and there was no change by the time we were all doing our stuff in the wet room. Max had disappeared to do what he had to do along the corridor in Robin and Swift with the 'tiddlers'…….the eight and nine year olds. It would have been fairly chaotic in those two rooms. Anyway it'll give Max a fair idea of what it's like to organize thirty six young boys first thing in the morning. Up in Merlin and Eagle we can pretty much organize ourselves but it's a different story along the corridor. There's not a lot of conversation with us, but the smaller fry make one hell of a racket. We just do what we have to do and get on with it. I'm looking forward to asking Max how he got on later at breakfast. It should be an interesting tale….tail being the operative word.
Max, sitting on Tom's bed, is watching us dress. Every boy is naked in the wet room for obvious reasons…..there's water around. We're still naked as we gather up clean clothing for the day. Apart from our shorts and jumper, everything is clean on every day. Everything is standard, underwear included, give or take minor variations. We're clean and smart young men. We have to be……..it says so in the school's prospectus! For some of us, it's PE after break and before lunch, so I select a pair of white shorts, white ankle socks, and a white tee shirt and stow them in my rucksack, carefully folded. It's an odd thing about PE. I happen to know that boys are very conscious of how they look in their PE kit. It's all about your shorts. If they're too tight, it looks just plain vulgar, like you're tarting or something? Too loose and you look stupid, and anyone can see right up the legs when you're sitting on the grass. No, the trick is to have them nicely fitted, but not tight. We don't have to wear pants underneath, but I always do. Other boys notice that detail. I know I do. Wearing pants under your PE shorts is a sign that you need them whilst engaging in things physical. It's all about telling people what you've got.
The boys from Owl were the last ones out to complete the line to walk to breakfast. Max looked slightly frazzled I must say. Anyway, he's got us all here more or less on time. It's eight minutes to eight by my H Samuel Ever Right watch. Max stood in front of the line to survey his charges, in order of age, more or less, youngest at the front. It's done that way so the line doesn't stretch out on the walk. Here we all are, all neatly dressed in light grey cotton shorts with no back pockets, that cover a reasonable proportion of our thighs, but leave a good deal of lightly tanned flesh above our knees, blue grey aertex shirts with just the one button undone at the top, grey V necked jumper with stripes around everywhere you could have a stripe, long or short grey socks and sandals that have buckles. Max notices three boys whose buckles are not secured and tells them to see to it. The three boys in question look slightly surprised at Max's efficiency.
Max is sitting at the end of our table, and the Robin and Swift boys are arguing over who's going to get his food for him. The youngest boys get served at the hatch first, table by table. This morning, it's scrambled egg on the usual limp white toast, preceded by a bowl of cereal of our choice. The milk is on each table, plus a plate of sliced bread, little cubes of butter and a glass bowl of very red jam. Standard sized 'Duralex' [which always amuses] glasses may be filled with milk if desired…..or plain tap water of course. Max appears to be flavour of the month as far as the younger boys are concerned. He is as far as the older boys are concerned too, but they prefer not to advertise the fact.
We have a half hour back at Swallows after breakfast before Assembly in the Hall at nine. That's the nitty gritty time for us in the wet room. I don't want to put you off your food, but that's the time when bowels get emptied. The use of the bidet afterwards is mandatory, Failure to use it will be noticed, put it that way. It's too late to shower by then.
Max walks with me over to the Hall just before nine. I'm feeling unsettled, agitated even, because I have had a chance to resolve things with him. I'd not seen him properly since Saturday night and I'm not sure how we stand. I'm desperate for it not to be the end….like here and now. I need some time with him away from everyone else. The truth of it that I have saved myself up for him. Maybe he has for me too? I know he's leaving today but I'm not sure exactly when.
'When are you going Max?'
'This afternoon about two. Mrs Kelly is taking me to Windsor Station.'
'What are going to do until then?'
'Have a stroll round or something. I'll probably hang out at Swallows. I've got a book to finish.'
'Will you be there at about eleven?'
By the end of Assembly, I had decided what I was going to do. I had never done it before, but needs must. I was going to swing the lead, as my mother says. I'm going to say to Miss Feeney, our PE leader, that I don't feel well…….upset tummy. Yes, that's bound to work. I'll rehearse it first in my head now. I'll go up to her right at the beginning of the lesson.
'What is it Alfie?'
I have both hands in front of my tummy as I look up at her. She can see I'm distressed.
'Oh dear. You'd better get over and see Mrs Kelly. Do you want someone to go with you Alfie?'
'No, it's ok thanks. I think I just need to sit on the loo for a while. Do I have to come back before the end of the lesson Miss?'
Sorted. That's exactly how it went. I went back into the pavilion to collect my clothes as I had already changed. Five minutes later I was back at Swallows. I went straight to the guest room where I found Max lying on the bed reading. I have a severe case of butterflies in my tummy. Max was on his back with his knees up, and dressed in a patterned tee shirt and white underpants. That's all. I had 'adjusted' myself inside my shorts. I wanted to look my best. As I entered the room, Max looked sideways at me and put his book down. I stood by the door looking back at him.
'Oh my goodness Alfie.'
He smiled at me. Relief. I think he's expecting me.
'Oh, I was just a bit taken aback, that's all. You look great….like that, if I may say so.'
'You know you do. Turn round a second.'
I did as he asked.
'I don't know….you boys.'
'What about us?'
As if I didn't know. I know exactly how I look in this kit.
'So you approve then?'
'I certainly do, but I'm surprised they let you out looking like that.'
I put the clothes I was carrying down on the chair nearby and sat on the edge of Max's bed. He took my arm and gently pulled me down so I was lying next to him on my side. I felt his arm around my shoulder so I moved closer. A moment later I felt his lips on my forehead.
'So how long do you have Alfie?'
'The rest of the morning until lunch. I'm not expected back. That's more than an hour.'
I explained how I had managed to escape athletics practice. I wanted to know how Max had got on with his duties first thing this morning.
'So they all behaved themselves did they Max…..even those kids in Owl?'
'Oh them. Yes, they behaved more or less, apart from Edward, or Eddie as they call him.'
'Oh yes, Edward. He's the one that brought you your scrambled eggs this morning.'
'Yes I know Alfie. You don't need to tell anything about him Alfie.'
'I don't know anything about him Max, apart from what I've heard.'
'Oh yes? What have you heard?'
'Those cute kids get a lot of attention, so they're used to getting their own way with people. Did he try it on with you then….I mean last night?'
'Slightly. It was one of those situations……when they were showering and so on. I happened to be looking in his direction when he caught me…….you know……having a bit of a look.'
'Yes, Eddy the Ready would have noticed.'
'Is that what you call him?'
'Yes. The other boys always say he's ready for it, so he's nicknamed Ever Ready like the batteries, or just Ready usually. He's a chorister too which makes it slightly worse.'
'Oh poor boy. Isn't there anything going for the lad?'
'There's plenty going for him apparently, but I've not seen it, unlike you Max.'
'That's true. Eleven going on fourteen I'd say.'
'So are you going to tell me then?'
'Not much to tell really. I went back an hour after I'd put out their light to check that all was well. They were all asleep except Edward. I had a feeling he might be waiting for me. He was. I sat on the side of his bed. Without any warning he drew his duvet aside to show me his penis. I'd seen it earlier and it looked like it had potential, shall we say. For rather a small boy I was impressed, and circumcised too, just to add to the general effect. When he pulled the duvet across and showed me his potential fully realised, I was even more impressed.'
'I bet you were. So did you?'
'I think that was the general idea, but no I didn't. I can't wander into a boy's room and toss the kid off just like can I, even if he's desperate for me to do it for him? I really don't know what gets into you boys. Must be something in the water here.'
'The same thing that got into you at that age probably!'
'Ok, point taken. I told him that what he appeared to be so proud of was very nice, but he'd have to play with it himself. He seemed to accept that, but asked me to stay with him while he did it.'
'That seemed reasonable so I did.'
'I hope you held his hand for him.'
'That's very romantic. I hope he came nicely?'
'Yes he did, very nicely as a matter of fact.'
'Anything to deal with afterwards Max?'
'Just a little bit of the usual 'little boy not quite there yet' stuff, that's all. Clear and rather sticky. He mentioned you Alfie.'
'Really? Not just as he came I hope?'
'No, not then……..just afterwards if you must know. It was in rather complimentary terms actually. He said he always wanted to be friends with you.'
'Oh. I didn't realise.'
'Well now's your chance……before you leave this place surely?'
'I guess so. By the way, what part of Eddy were you holding?'
'Never mind. Put it this way, you would have enjoyed it.'
We chuckled over the Ever Ready incident, and I've made a mental note about what he said about me. The problem is that it's very difficult to fraternise with younger boys here. I think that doing stuff with kids your own age is pretty much taken as read because it's just going to happen, but any real difference in age would have repercussions, and very possibly nasty ones at that. I've seen Edward in his games kit enough times, and come to think of it he did look a big boy for his age in those shorts of his. I don't think I look big in mine, just interesting, and definitely noticeable, at least I bloody well hope so. As far as I'm concerned, that'll have to do.
All this talk about Edward has got me quite worked up. Max has been having a very pleasant fiddle with me through two layers of cotton material all the time we've been talking. I had my hand inside his knickers, if indeed they actually are his. I very much doubt it. Max seems to have taken to having a wander through the linen cupboards this weekend. I love his balls, and I cannot leave them alone. I can't get to his cock properly unfortunately, but Max is loving his balls played with. Then Max had an idea that I rather liked the sound of. I had already told him that as much as I fancied it, I didn't want him making my bum sore because I was modelling for Art Club this afternoon and if they saw a pink patch all around my anus it would be noticed and neither of us could risk that. There was also the question of the amount of his spunk he put in my bottom when he came. His last effort, fantastic as it was, left me rather damp in that area for quite a while. The idea of a pink and occasionally dripping bum being displayed to the artists was unthinkable.
I was intrigued by Max's suggestion of how we might have simultaneous orgasms. I certainly had never done it like that, or even considered the possibility. Apparently, if you have a quite stretchy foreskin, which incidentally I have, you can pull it over the head of the other person's cock. Max's foreskin is quite loose and pliable. When his willy is completely soft, there's just enough hanging over the front. Mine's the same but about half the thickness of his. He reckoned that with a modicum of stretching, my willy would fit snugly inside his foreskin, and he would do all the work. Only one person can provide the stimulation, and my job was to lie there and enjoy the sensations he would give me. Sounds good to me.
We lay opposite each other, nude, but not before I had a little pleasure of my own.
I sat on Max's chest. As I leaned forward his hands held my hips in exactly the right position. The sensation of his tongue gently caressing the area immediately surrounding my anus was quite out of this world. His pants, or rather someone else's, came off far enough to give me the last access I was going to have to his beautiful penis. I held it hard in my left hand and worked my tongue furiously up and down his uncovered frenulum, that delicious part of a boy's cock that lurks behind and just below the glans.
'You'd better stop now Alfie. Much more of that and it'll be too late sweetheart.'
Sweetheart? I love you Max.
What with my saliva and the usual clear lubricant that Max seems to produce at the drop of a hat, his idea is working a treat. It was more a matter of controlling, or rather trying to delay my cum until he was ready too. The whole exercise was about delaying the inevitable. I held his head around his ears while I kissed him, and he kissed me. It was deep and controlled as we both thought about what was happening elsewhere in our bodies.
Max broke away, and announced that he was very close to ejaculating what he feared would be 'an awful lot of semen' into the small space around his foreskin that surrounded my smaller boy's penis. There was limited space to contain whatever Max was going to produce.
I began to visualize the moment of Max's ejaculation, that moment when everything that is sexual in a boy's body, hurls out the milk of his loving kindness from the wide slit in the head of his cock into the world. I have seen it do it before and I have felt it and tasted it, and in a few moments from now there would be more of Max's warm balm to comfort my soul.
I waited for the moment to come, as it surely will.
'Alfie……..are you ready? I'm going to come.'
'Yes Max, I'm ready.' I'm watching so I could see exactly what happens.
Max wasn't quiet about it……and nor was I. It was a few seconds after the initial jerks of Max's body, the tight grip of his hand on our joined cocks and the flood of warmth that covered me there. I forced his hand away and gripped hard our unified centres of unspeakable pleasure.
I don't who Max purloined the latest pair of knickers from, that has now suffered the latest indignity, or privilege depending on your point of view, of absorbing the fruits of both Max's and my loins. Max's foreskin lacked anything like the capacity to deal with what he produced, augmented by my minor contribution. The whole lot has joined forces and overflowed to give some unwitting boy's knickers a right good soaking. Max and I looked at the soggy garment, and laughed.
'Oh dear. Whose are they Max? Not yours I presume?'
'No, not mine. I ran out two days ago thanks to you Alfie.'
'Thanks to me? That's not fair!'
'That's a matter of opinion isn't it? Anyway, look at the name in the waistband.'
They belonged to the straight laced John in my room, Merlin. You remember him? He's the really nice boy who has never been seen with an erect dick, at least not by me. He'd be appalled if he knew that a pair of his very nice designer briefs have been defiled in such a way, bless him.
'We can't put these in the laundry basket Max, not in this state……..can we?'
Answer, definitely not.
I told Max to secrete them somewhere. One thing I'm sure of is that John has seen the last of them.
Max and I showered together which was nice. Afterwards he asked me if I wanted anything else. I sensed that he wanted to say goodbye gently and with a tenderness that is him if you see what I mean. I'd come some twenty minutes ago, so being thirteen, there was absolutely no reason why I couldn't go again now. Ten minutes in between would have been fine.
I sat nude on the bed towards the middle with my legs apart and my feet up on the edge so he had good access to my rear end, and watched, propped up on my elbows as Max brought me to orgasm by mouth. It didn't take long. The feeling was just as intense as our little experiment had been earlier. I asked him if I had produced anything in the process.
'Yes Alfie, just a little.'
'And you are perfect…..different this time but still perfect. I can take you with me on the train now. I need to ask you something by the way.'
'Will you come up to Norfolk please? Come and meet my mother and Michael. Please will you?'
Of course I said I would, and I told him exactly why.
Max held me while I cried. I'm not sure what my tears were really all about. A whole lot of things I think, and the fact that he still wanted me…….the silly little cry baby that I am. I know I'm an emotional little sprat and I like to let go when things are intense in my life, so when I feel like letting go, I do, like now.
I met Miss Feeny, our PE leader on my way to lunch. She asked me how I was feeling. I told her I was feeling a bit better. I'm not actually. I'd changed into normal school clothes aided by Max. He seemed to take great pride in how I looked, which touched me rather.
'I don't know who chose this uniform but they must have had boys like you in mind. You look wonderful in that lot, apart from the shorts.'
'What about them?'
'Well I suppose it's too late now to get new at this stage of the term.'
I knew what he meant. He's telling me I've almost grown out of them. He's right, I have, but that has certain advantages doesn't it? I know we look good in our kit, especially in the summer when we carefully allow our skin to tan a little. Everyone says so. It's simple and very effective. It's amazing how many people look at us in the street, and don't we play up to it. Oh yes. You can imagine what they say…….
'Oh look at those two boys darling. Don't they too sweet for words?'
Hmm……but appearances can be very deceptive. The next time you see a couple of blond headed twelve year old English schoolboys in nifty little, and rather revealing grey shorts, lovely brown arms and short white socks in sandals, don't be convinced of their purity please. They're probably on their way to find a convenient bush in the park where it's a case of knickers down and let's play with our cute little cocks until the nice feeling comes. Bless 'em!
Two weeks later.
I can hardly see as I write this. I've also got the mother of all hard-ons as I think about my erstwhile lover wandering the beautiful coastline of Norfolk. Maybe he does think about me from time to time. The end of term and the end of my time here at the Lodge is just two days away. It's the end of a huge part of my life….the end of loving and being loved, at least here in this place it is. I will go on my way, eternally grateful for what Mr and Mrs Kelly have done not only for me but for all of us, including the ones that think that they didn't need their unqualified love that they gave us so freely.
I didn't realise how the valedictory service to mark the end of my choristership would touch me. They told me that it can be heavy going emotionally for some boys, and it was for me. More than once I had to use the back of my hand to wipe away tears as the Chaplain asks a loving God to take care of us in our future lives, and to thank us for the dedication that is the duty of all the boys and girls who offer such a large part of their lives to that service. Most of the choristers love the job, and so do the parents as it means a scholarship and lower fees to pay. I certainly loved every minute of it, and the experience will stay with me all my life I'm quite certain. Stanford in G, Benjamin Britten's Te Deum in C, and all those wonderful psalm settings that is the daily routine for boys who want to sing, will not leave them disappointed. Oh for the wings of a dove indeed.
Max agreed that we should say goodbye in private, and make light of it in public. He left for the station immediately after we'd had a lunch of salad and that peculiarly English thing know as a pilchard, which come in a steel can, like tuna fish. The other boys took little notice when Max packed up his plate, took it to the hatch, and walked out of the hall. I watched him go. A moment later I looked about me to see if anyone had registered Max's departure and then to look in my direction to see if it had affected me in any way. It had affected me, and as I caught Jamie's eye, he too realised the significance of the moment. Ten minutes later I was walking back to Swallows to be on my own for a while before Art class began at two. My bed in Merlin seemed like the best place to be.
I lay on my side, curled up with my hands under my head, trying not to think about Max and his leaving. I think I was close to sleep when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jamie. He must have seen me walk in the direction of Swallows and followed me at a discrete distance.
I looked at Jamie's face, and then looked away. He looked as upset as I felt. Trust Jamie to know.
'Parting is such sweet sorrow.'
That's typical of Jamie. In the midst of some trauma, he will find a way, unwittingly, to add a touch of unintended humour.
'That's pure pathos Jamie.'
'Yes it is.'
'Oh. Is that bad then?'
'No, it's not bad Jamie. Anyway, where did you get it from?'
'It's Romeo and Juliet. We did it this term.'
'Oh did you. That's nice, and yes, it is sweet sorrow.'
'I'm sorry Alfie. Will you still be my friend?'
'Yes Jamie, depending on how long that is. How long did you have in mind?'
'Yes Jamie, I will, I promise.'
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