A Time of Change

by Andrew Passey

Chapter 3

Time passed and the school year was done, it flew by really. Just the grind of learning and homework, and trying not to get into trouble. I made new friends, lost old ones, made up with old ones, and fell out with new ones. Just the usual childish politics of growing up. Puberty was like a big shadow over our lives, everyone wanted to start it but knew it would change things. Some of the boys in our year were now really tall, others hadn't grown an inch, either in their pants or in their height!

My Mum now had a boyfriend, Clive, who I didn't really like. There was definitely something a bit pervy about him, I was convinced he was trying to catch me naked all the time, coming into my room after my shower, making inappropriate comments. But Mum seemed happy with him and it did bring a bit more income into the household I suppose. Not that any of it went on me!

In worse news, Rob's dad died suddenly which left everyone devastated. Rob took it particularly hard and I'd hold him close when he'd cry on my shoulder at our sleepovers. He knew I was there for him and I told them that, he held too much of his grief in though a lot of the time. He wanted to be strong for his Mum but what he really needed was to let it all flood out. I did what I could and he started to seem like he'd turned a corner.

The summer holidays came and went all too quickly, I played lots of football with my friends but somehow it didn't seem to last long at all. Those six weeks felt like my childhood, passing all too quickly. Sometimes me and Rob would lie in the grass staring up at the sky and talk about the usual shit, football, girls, how hard our lives were. Not that they were hard at all but we knew no better! Some nights I'd sleepover at Rob's and we'd stay up talking rubbish to the early hours. The summer holidays were always halcyon days, each time they finished we were one step closer to the end of our childhood and the start of adulthood and it's myriad responsibilities and stresses.

"Do you think we'll still be friends when we're older? My parents have no friends they see from when they were young" Rob asked me one night, his blond hair plastered to his head with the sweat of a muggy August night.

"We'll always be best of friends" I assured him. I hoped it was true, I couldn't really think of why we wouldn't be. Surely we'd still be having kickabouts in the park when we were old and grey?

"I hope we will be." He said smiling at me.

"Well that's up to us isn't it! If we want to stay friends we will and I know I definitely want to!" I replied smiling back at him.

By the end of the summer we were back at school and I was entering my second year of secondary school. I'd be 13 in November and while I hadn't really grown I'd just started to discover the joy of a dry orgasm. The first time it happened I was in shock, I'd been practising using the techniques James showed and then after a while my body felt all warm and everything felt on fire. I started to understand why James liked it so much!

Things changed rapidly for me then. Fast forward a couple of months and by the time my birthday came around I'd asked out a girl (although that was at the prompting of Rob who was going out with her best friend), had my first kiss with her, grown my first pubic hair and shot my first bit of cum. A pretty life changing start to the year!

I'd also started to get bullied a bit by some of the bigger boys in our year, James would put a word in for me and they'd lay off for a while but then it would come back. It all came to a head in a game of football in PE on a wet muddy afternoon soon after my birthday, Our teacher was reffing two games so there was a fair bit of off the ball stuff when he wasn't looking. I was in a bad mood anyway, hormones kicking in I guess and I cracked at being punched off the ball at the end of the game by Peter Phazey.

I had thrown a punch back and before I knew it we were on the floor rolling around throwing punches and kicks and getting covered in mud while other boys cheered. I wasn't strong but when I lost my temper and the adrenaline flowed I could certainly give as good as I got.

Our teacher saw us fighting, shouted to stop, came over and went nuts at us, told me he "expected better of me", although he didn't say that to Peter! He made us collect all the balls and cones in and by the time we got back to the changing room everyone had gone.

Our teacher was waiting though and gave us another bollocking, telling us it was lucky we weren't in front of the headmaster. I think it was a bit of bravado really, fights weren't uncommon at school and a fight in PE wasn't the sort of thing to end up in big trouble. Still, I was bricking it slightly! I didn't like to get into trouble and I protested that Peter had started it. I got a stern look back and was told that "you should know not to react". I was pissed off but knew he was right.

After our telling off he told us we looked a mess and we needed to shower "properly" before we went home. Usually I'd just run my legs under the water while wearing my boxer shorts but he said we needed to "get in there naked and scrub that mud off, I don't want any complaints from your parents that I've sent you home looking like tramps". He said and told us he'd be back in five minutes to lock up.

I studiously avoided Peter and got my towel, stripping off and going into the shower, standing at the furthest end. Peter came in and walked up to me, naked like me. I tried not to look at his dick, but I had a quick glance. Longer and thicker than mine with more hair.

"You look like a little boy compared to me. A little boy who got me into trouble" he said to me.

"You fucking started it" I said back angrily.

"You cheeky fucker, think you're a big boy because you hit me back? You better think again, I'm tempted to kick your arse now in the shower" he said and pushed me up against the wall.

I was expecting a beating but as well as the sensation of the hot water hitting my back, I could also feel his dick touching my leg which was a bit awkward, I certainly didn't want to get a hardon in the shower with him! He then grabbed my dick and squeezed tightly so my eyes watered.

"You've not got much here and I doubt you can even cum, I might just rip it off, fat lot of good it's doing you" he said. I knew the best approach was to stay silent and let him talk himself out.... but I was still pissed off.

"Fuck off, I certainly can cum" I said between clenched teeth, the pain of him grabbing me was pretty intense.

"Bollocks can you, well let's see shall we" Peter said and then he started to play with my dick under the running water of the shower. I hardened up instantly and moaned gently as he started to wank me with intent. I closed my eyes, what the fuck was going on? I was being wanked off in a shower by Peter fucking Phazey. I felt my orgasm approaching and my knees buckled as I shot a bit of cum out over his hand.

"Call that cum you fucking gay boy? Like a mouse's fucking sneeze more like, I'll show you a real load of cum" Peter said as he started to wank his hard dick aggressively in front of me, then with a grunt he spurted over my leg, he was right, that was a real load of cum.

He wiped his cum covered hand over my mouth, "maybe next time I'll let you suck me off gay boy" he said, then walked out of the shower, picking up his towel as he did.

I stood there in a state of shock about what had just happened, then snapped out of it and washed my leg and face. I grabbed my towel and was drying off as the teacher came back in.

He made us both shake hands with each other once we were dressed. "I don't expect you to be friends but I don't want to see you fighting again" he said.

"It's ok sir, we won't ever do it again or even talk of what happened here" Peter said, giving me a pointed look.

We were sent on our way and headed home in separate directions. To say I was confused about what just happened was an understatement. I'd been wanked off by another boy, a boy who was a total arsehole. I'd enjoyed it though and it made me feel even more confused. My head was spinning on the way home, had I led him on? Why had he done that? Would he tell people?

By the time I got home I'd calmed down a bit and tried to focus away from it.

However. I replayed what happened in my head that night in bed, it felt good being wanked off but why did he call me a gay boy? He was the one whose hand was round my dick wanking me off. The incident left me very confused about things, about my sexuality, about Peter, about life in general.

Fuck, life was confusing sometimes. I guess it was all part of growing up, and another first to add to my recent list of them. I suspected it would be quite a while before I'd be wanked off by a girl but at least I suppose someone had wanked me off, even if they were an arsehole. Part of me found it empowering, a bully had wanked ME off. I'd not had to do anything to him. But the other part felt uncomfortable about what happened, it didn't help that it would pop up in my head and make me horny.

Still in time I found an uneasy balance where I could sort of ignore the memory, I thought that if I could replace it with new ones that would also help!

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