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You are here: Home > Story Shelf > All Authors > N Fourbois > Just One of Those Days, but It Got Better | Part 5 | N Fourbois

Just One of Those Days, but It Got Better

by N Fourbois

Part 5

I spent gym club watching Mr Timmis. I could not take my eyes off him for fear of losing him. I know this sounds ridiculous. Logic dictated he would be there until the end of the session and then we'd go home. He would be in school until the end of next term and then he was leaving. It was a pity because we were trying team gymnastics – pyramid building – and my lack of concentration was spoiling it for the others.

"You were miles away, Nick," said Simon as we walked into town.

"Yeah, well, just a bit sad about Mr Timmis leaving."

"That's four munce away yet."

"Month-s, Simon. Month-s. You're not a cockney."

"That's what I said, dinni?"

"You're at it again. 'Di d n' t I' with D and T. You'll be saying 'sumpfink' and 'nuffink' soon."

"Cor blimey, strike a light. Dunno why I bovver."

"That's all right, Si, because you're doing it on purpose now," I said to defuse the situation before it became a fraternal squabble. "I bet you'd rather it was me who told you about it than Mum."

"Yeah, well," he said mimicking me, "I think we can agree there." He looked up at me, only just, because he was growing fast and catching me up, with those sapphire eyes and the spaniel look which he knew would always melt my heart.

By this time we were walking through the hospital grounds. "I suppose it would be a bit of a cheek if I went into the clinic and asked for some of those gloves."

"I think you'd have to be a druggie to get them," said Simon. "Are we all right for supplies, Nick?"

"We're all right for next weekend, though I'm not expecting to need much. How about you?"

"I don't know what I'm doing at the moment, but we ought to stock up for the holidays."

"But we can go there anytime in the holidays, Simon." We walked past the clinic. "Funny, you always see spare parking spaces here."

"Granddad says he can always park here when he goes to the audiology department."

"Simon, you haven't been talking to him about going to the clinic, have you?"

"Yes, but he promised not to mention it to Mum or Dad. He approves. You can catch all sorts of things that weren't around in his day and he told me the story about Grandma getting a prescription for birth control pills. When the doc asked why she needed them, she said it gave her peace of mind. The doctor said they're not manufactured to give peace of mind. She replied that they do when she drops one in cousin Janine's breakfast orange juice each morning."

"Is that true?"

"Gospel… unless Granddad's telling porkies."

We reached the town centre. "Si, can you look after the dog, while I pop in here, please?"

"But we haven't got a dog."

"Then pretend, dodo, and can you hold my bag as well in case I get accused of nicking something?" I went in and walked up to the pharmacy counter. I had to ask for the specific ones I wanted, medical gloves, as those on the shelves were just the ordinary smooth ones. Clutching my purchase and the receipt, I rejoined Simon and put the pack of gloves into my rucksack. "Cor, that was like the Inquisition. In the end I told her I made model aeroplanes and I needed them for extra grip and to stop getting glue on my hands. Turns out her son makes model aircraft and now she's going to get him some for that reason. As if…" We soon got to Mum and Dad's offices and only had to wait five minutes before they were ready to come home. I put my gym kit into the washing machine along with Simon's and a couple of extra pairs of CKs, as I would need my stuff the next day for PE."

---

On the way to the bus stop on Wednesday morning Simon said "Nick, I've been thinking. There are a couple of really lush boys in Year 8 that I want to convert to being gay."

"Simon, you ought to know by now, you cannot convert people to being gay, any more than you can convert them away from being gay. You are what you're born like. They haven't discovered a gay gene yet, but that's why with the same genes the two of us had a good chance of being gay."

"But Ronan Webster says he converts boys to being gay."

"I think if you look a bit closer, what Ronan does is to find boys who are interested. 'Curious' is the usual term used. Then he trades on their curiosity, gets them interested, probably with a free sample the first time, and when they come back for more, he thinks he's converted them, but they're not really gay. They're good time boys who are actually just learning about sex. If you're genuinely interested, Si, there's a great article entitled Why am I gay? in this month's GY . Part of it deals with the idea of being 'cured'. What Ronan does is he seduces them and they enjoy it, but when they walk away they are still straight."

"Is that really so?"

"Yeah, but I must admit it's a great challenge to have a straight boy and you get a great feeling of achievement afterwards."

"Does it work the other way round, Nick?"

"How do you mean?"

"Can girls have sex with gayboys?"

"It happens, but usually it just reinforces the fact that being gay is the right thing for them."

"Have you ever done stuff with a girl, Nick?"

"No. I wouldn't want to."

"Why's that?"

"If you get close to a girl, you'll find that she has a certain body odour, pheromones. Sometimes they try and cover it up with perfume. It's supposed to turn a male on and make you feel all horny, but it has the opposite effect on me. I find it revolting and it turns me right off whereas if I smell boy, wow, do I feel horny!"

"But Nicky, you're always feeling horny."

"Simon Croker, just you wait until I get you home tonight and I'll show you just how horny I can get."

"Ooh, promises, promises. Your room or mine?"

"The kitchen table. You won't even have time to get upstairs before my dick is all the way up your arse and you can feel it in your throat."

"I can't wait. I love it when you talk dirty." He always has to have the last word. Then he burst out into one of his fits of the giggles. Now we had arrived at the bus stop, just in time for we had been dawdling while talking.

I managed to pretend I was a pair of curtains and pull myself together for the PE lesson, though Mr Timmis and I did exchange smiles. At the end of lunch Simon came across with Nathan. My brother then whispered in my ear "Nicky, did you really mean what you said on the way to the bus stop this morning?" I had to think just what I had said because from what I could remember Simon had done all of the talking. Then it clicked and I answered

"Of course, Si, but I've changed my mind about the kitchen table… and we'll have to catch the early bus, of course." When we got home, Simon told me he was unable to concentrate on his afternoon lessons in anticipation. When the bell at the end is the last lesson rang, I was the first out of the classroom. Simon was already at the bus stop when I got there.

My alarm clock beeped at 5.30. I kissed Simon on the lips and got out of bed, put my dressing gown on and went to take my key out of the front door lock. Simon and I showered together, but apart from soaping each other up, we didn't do anything. We were both feeling fully satisfied and I knew I would remain so until at least after tea. Simon told me to stop bragging. Something was happening between us. We were not shagging. We really were making love and there was a deep feeling of fulfilment that neither of us got from Tony or Nathan. I thought about Ronan and his sister Lynn, but was convinced that that had been solely physical. Once we were dressed, Simon went and spread his schoolwork over the kitchen table and I sat down at my desk in my room.

I just sat there in front of my work. Our pillow talk afterwards had been interesting, a continuation of this morning's conversation. "Si, you know when you were talking about sex with a straight guy?"

"Yees."

"Did you have anybody in particular in mind?"

"Yes, a number, but there's this kid in Year 8 I really want to get my hands inside his trousers."

"And your dick in his bum?"

"And his in mine, but one thing at a time."

"Do I know him?"

"His name's Eddie Francis."

"Don't think so."

"He's normal height, very thin, wiry, sinewy with some muscle…"

"How do you know all this, bro?"

"I went into the changing room when his class was about to have PE, pretending I was looking for a lost sock. I was hoping I'd see his dick, but no luck."

"You devious little sod."

"I know," he grinned. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, straight black hair and lovely blue eyes. And I nearly forgot, a significant package in his school trousers."

"Now I know who you're talking about. You've obviously inherited my sense of good taste, Simon."

"I didn't see him in his kit. I asked him to move his bag so I could get to the lost property box, but it wasn't actually in the way."

"How do you know he's straight?"

"I don't," replied Simon, but he didn't check me out.

"That's a bit conceited, isn't it?"

"Not conceited, bro, fact." The way he said it definitely sounded conceited. "Every gay boy in the school checks me out… and a lot who are straight."

"Does this Eddie Francis ever check you out?"

"No, sod's law, he doesn't even look at me, doesn't even acknowledge my existence. So he's not only very hot, he's not only very shagworthy, but he's a challenge as well and I want him."

"Read that GY article and we'll chat later. It's a good job we haven't got much homework tonight." That's when my alarm beeped.

"What are you two boys thinking of doing at the weekend?" my mother asked over tea.

"Not a lot," said Simon.

"What about you, Nick?"

"No plans at the moment. Tony's off with his family somewhere."

"What would you think if we redecorated your bedrooms?" said Dad.

"Ace," said Simon.

"Cool," I said.

"Well, I reckon that if you boys and I start straight after tea on Friday and work though Saturday and Sunday, we could get the job finished by the evening."

"You'll have to sleep in the spare room. We need to get the furniture out and the carpets up," said Mum.

"And if we can undercoat the woodwork Friday night, we've got a good chance of getting the new carpets down on Sunday," said Dad and you can move back in on Sunday night."

"And we're getting you a new bed, Nick," said Mum. The springs might not be so noisy in the new mattress." I blushed, I could feel it, not helped when Simon giggled. Mum ignored me and carried on. "And we're getting you a new desk, Simon, so that you can do your homework upstairs."

"Obviously the springs on my bed don't creak," added Simon mischievously. If looks could kill…

"And one other thing," said Mum. "You've probably forgotten this, but some time ago you suggested inviting the Maltbys and the Tranters round for dinner."

"I hadn't forgotten," I said. "I just thought you didn't like the idea."

"What we need to know is whether you want to join us or not, and whether, if you do, you'd like Tony and Nathan to come."

"Yes, please," said Simon, answering for both of us, "but don't ask Christian." I raised my eyebrows.

"He's going away for the weekend," said Mum "and so there's no need to worry. Is that settled, boys? Nick?"

"Yeah, great. Fine by me and we'll try and get ahead with our homework."

I was finishing off my homework towards half past eight when my bedroom door crashed open, in walked Simon, then he walked out backwards and the door closed. After a moment's silence there was a demur tap on the door, I said 'come in' and Simon entered. "You know, bro, I can still feel your prick up my bum from what we did earlier."

"You're not dealing with a new boy on the block, Simon. Only the best for my baby brother."

"And you really must have got your dick up as far as the back of my throat because I could still taste your spunk in my mouth when we were showering and before I cleaned my teeth." I had to laugh. His humorous way at viewing the world was just one of the many things I loved about him.

"Let me just finish this off, Si, and I'm all yours."

"What's new, Nicky boy?" While I was finishing off, he was browsing through the copy of GY he had in his hand.

I put on a Ronan Parke album just in case Mum or Dad were passing my room and heard what we were talking about. "Okay, Simon, what have you learnt?"

"There are straights, bis and gays and they are born that way and you can't change them and if you try, you could damage their mental health, probably in later life when they've forgotten all about you."

"Okay, we'll forget the mental health bit for the moment."

"But the important point for us is…"

"I like the 'for us' bit. I'm quite happy to do stuff just with gayboys."

"But just you wait until the next time you see Eddie. You won't fail to fall for him. I bet you at least pop a boner."

"Okay, Simon, we're getting off track."

"But the important thing is that you can seduce straight boys, especially adolescents, because they're thirsty for knowledge and experience, but even if you score, they are still straight afterwards."

"Good, that's the basic lesson. So have you got a game plan, a strategy?"

"I wanted to discuss that with you."

"So the answer's no." Simon gave a weak smile. "Put your thinking cap on. I'm here to help you, not do it for you." There were a few moments of silence. I gave in. "I remember you said 'No, sod's law, he doesn't even look at me, doesn't even acknowledge my existence.' So the first thing you've got to do is?"

"Talk to him?"

"Yes, communicate. Don't think that you're going to chat to him for five minutes and you've already got your tongue down his throat or you're pulling his zip down. You've got to think long term. You probably won't take him till after the school holidays now, but get started."

"What about if I wait for him at morning break and follow him, say, onto the fields?"

"There's a law against stalking and that's not exactly communication, and what is Nathan going to do while all this is going on?" Simon shrugged his shoulders. "Well, the first thing I would have thought was to make sure Nathan is onside and you're not two-timing him or dumping him."

"I didn't think of Natt."

"So you've got to explain it to him, build it up, tell him what you told me. It's a challenge and will he help you."

"I see what you mean, Nick." He thought for a few moments. "What about if Nathan and me go and sit on his table at lunch?"

"Great, Simon, you're beginning to think.

---

The weekend was fun. We started straight after tea. Mum did our chores for us. Simon and I slept in the spare room and twin beds didn't stop Simon ending up in mine each morning. On Friday evening we got the two rooms clear, the ceiling, walls and woodwork washed down and the woodwork undercoated. Mum made a mental note to have a word with Mrs Fanway about moving the beds when vacuuming. We'd already chosen and bought the paint. ("No, boys, the woodwork's going to be white.) We went to bed tired. No hankypanky that night and we were up at the same time as on a school day on Saturday. Saturday morning ceilings, walls finished in the afternoon, woodwork painted with gloss by late evening. Sunday morning all the paint was dry and the carpet fitter did his job. Sunday afternoon a family trip to IKEA click and collect, home, then assembly. Imagine my surprise, when my bed turned out to be, and we have to be very careful here, a big bed. Not a double bed, at least in my mother's opinion, but it meant Mum and Dad had tacitly come to terms with Simon's and my sexuality. He was to get my larger single bed. Just don't talk about it.

By five we were finished and while we were sitting round the kitchen table over a mug of tea, Dad said "What are we going to do about eating this evening?" and before Mum could answer, he added "I know. Why don't you use your charming telephone manner, Simon, to see if you can find us a table at a restaurant somewhere?" I've never seen Simon move so fast. He didn't even have to look up the number, nor did he realise that he was being set up. We all listened attentively, trying to stifle our laughter while he was using the telephone in the hall. "Any luck, Simon?" asked Dad when he came back. He drew in a long breath through his teeth.

"Bit difficult on a Sunday evening," he replied with a straight face, which was more than we could keep. "But I did finally manage to book us a table."

"Oh, well done, Simon," said Dad. "Not too far away I hope. I don't want a long drive after this weekend."

"No. At the Dog & Duck." This was just too much. We couldn't contain ourselves any longer and we burst out in uncontrollable mirth.

"Wot?" said Simon perplexed.

---

We were made very welcome at the Dog & Duck. Even the receptionist cracked her face with a smile. Naturally we were looked after very well by Ben and when Simon made his customary excursion, ostensibly to the loo, but as I had already ascertained, in reality to the staff's back entrance to the kitchen, I quietly enquired whether I might go with him. "Two's company, three's a crowd," he whispered in reply, but also with a sweet smile.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That gives me a plenty of scope then, Nick."

"What are you two boys whispering about at the meal table?" Mum asked sternly.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Just gay talk. You wouldn't understand," answered Simon cheekily. He got the look, the look that turns flesh into stone, but he was halfway across the dining room by that point.

"He's gone to see Ben. They're soul mates, he's Simon's role model even. He's going to miss him when he leaves."

"Like you with Mr Timmis?" My mother was nothing if not astute. Even so, I was amazed that she knew anything about that. "I hear they're going to have one of these gay marriages."

"You sound as if you don't quite approve."

"It's not a question of my approving or not approving. It's just that I do worry about you and Simon and what's going to happen to you."

"And how to cope with two sons-in-law," harrumphed Dad.

"Don't worry about that," I said. "It might never come to that. Anyway, Mum, who have you been talking to? Did Simon tell you?"

"Don't you read the local paper, Nick? Hatch, match and dispatch?"

"What's that?"

"The personal columns, the births, marriages and deaths. It was in there, not an engagement exactly, but a change from civil partnership to official marriage."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, we knew you two were… what shall I say?… emotionally involved and we didn't want to upset you." I noted the subtle change from 'I' to 'we' on putting Mum under a little pressure.

"You wouldn't have upset me. I am fifteen now, after all, and Simon's pretty robust."

At that moment Simon returned with Ben in tow. "I told the waiter we were ready to pay the bill," he announced imperiously.

"Simon, you're becoming a right pretentious little poof." Even Ben could not keep a professional straight face at that and we all laughed out loud. I'm not sure that Mum actually approved of my using the word 'poof', but she would have approved even less if I'd said 'ponce', which was what I was going to say. Simon looked around with that ingenuous surprised expression on his face as if to say 'What have I done now?'. We went through the ritual of his settling the bill, which meant he could spend a few more minutes in Ben's company. When we got home, I said "Si, what do you actually do when you go off like that?"

"We chat. Mainly about how we deal with being gay, but other things too. This evening Ben talked about his marriage to Mr Timmis and how much they were in love. Then he said I mustn't breathe a word of what he said at school, and he said that Adrian… er, I mean Mr Timmis knows that we two are gay and that you've got a crush on him…"

"Simon! I have not got a crush on him. I just…"

"Nicky, your dick… I mean your nose is growing longer like Pinocchio's. You're telling porkies."

"Well, maybe a little," I conceded. My dick was in fact growing longer at the thought of Mr Timmis in his leotard… I mean comp top.

"And then Ben let me feel his balls… Whoops! Who said that? Of course he didn't and if he'd asked me to, I'd have said no."

"And now whose plonker's growing because he's telling porkies?"

"You mean nose, Nick."

"No, I mean plonker, Simon. Look in the mirror." He harrumphed just like Dad.

---

It was the last week of term before the Easter holidays. Little serious schoolwork would be done and there were frequent interruptions, rehearsals for this, practices for that. One was the school play which would always amuse Simon and me. First of all, according to school folklore, all Thespians were gay. If only… From our point of view we knew this wasn't true, alas! Because we attended an all boys school, the girls' parts had to be taken by juniors and it was not uncommon for a stage romance to spill over into real life. We could be quite envious, but despite our being gay, an actor's life was for neither me, nor Simon. Enough of that except to say that certain members of the cast had their names ringed in our programmes after we attended the performance.

For me the big moment that week was the school cross-country race which took place, unfortunately, when we should have had PE. I won't dwell on the fact that not only did I win my age group, but came in ahead of the Year 11 runners and there were only a couple of sixth formers ahead of me. Simon came second in his year group. More important for me was that I was wearing my comp top and extremely short nylon shorts. I don't like nylon, but Mum does for cross-country since afterwards they are easily washed and I tolerate them because they are naturally translucent and only touch my body at the waist. During the race I was naturally single-minded. However, during the warm-up and the after-race photography and award ceremony I enjoyed the attention I was getting, while carrying out my own not so discreet activities of boywatching and checking out. It was school occasions such as these that I could always add to my 'bucket list' the names of boys in other years. I did order some of the photos, taken by the Master i/c Photography, who, as is well known throughout the school, firmly bats for our team. This attention extended far beyond the simple fact I had won my race, particularly when Mr Timmis made a special effort to come up and not only congratulate me, but also put his arm round my shoulder. Instant weak knees (and a boner!). I couldn't get out of my head what Ben had told Simon on Sunday. How narcissistic is that!

The other point of interest concerned Simon rather than me. It was part of his pursuit of Edward Francis. On the previous Monday Simon and Nathan had made themselves known to him by joining him and his form mates, uninvited of course, for lunch. Simon assured me that their association had been one hundred percent asexual and whether the quarry was aware of his pursuer's sexuality and lusts was an unknown. But I am moving away from the point.

Another school competition at Eastertide was the School Boxing Championships. Boxing is something I avoid. While I have no qualms about defending myself (or Simon, or even Tony for that matter) with my fists, should it come to that, I see no sense whatsoever in beating the living daylights out of someone, or of more concern having the daylights beaten out of you, for sport. A ring is set up on the fields and the whole school witnesses this bloodsport. However, the event does have its compensations for the required boxing strip is a house vest with white shorts and I could spend the time admiring the sheer masculine beauty of these young bodies strutting their pugilistic stuff on the raised platform in front of me. Also, I had Tony sitting next to me and so we could assess, compare notes and give points, though not for the same prowess as the official judges.

It turned out that Eddie, although very much a flyweight, was a most capable boxer and so his final in his weight became the highlight of the tournament. I spent three lustful rounds admiring the flyweight hunk (oxymoron?) in front of me and looking up the legs of his white shorts. What was he wearing underneath? How big was his package? And the fact that he was so skinny made it that much more prominent. What was the shape and size of the bits and pieces that formed the bulge? Plenty to talk about with Simon when we got home. I immediately understood what Simon had been talking about. I can tell you absolutely nothing about Eddie's opponent.

The following day Tony and I were sitting with Simon and Nathan on the benches outside the pavilion in the warm sun of early spring. On another close by were sitting some Year 8s and who should be among them but Eddie Francis. Okay, I admit we were boywatching, as you do, but at the other kids walking past. Suddenly I heard this easily recognisable voice say "Hey, Croker, why are you staring at me like that?" My head spun round. I was right. The voice came from Eddie Francis, but I was the wrong Croker. He was accusing Simon. I paid attention, but I knew that Simon was quite capable of looking after himself, even against the school's flyweight boxing champion.

"You don't want to know," answered Simon.

"Why did I ask the question then? You were staring at my bollocks." It was a well known scenario for me. 'I'm not staring at them,' I was expecting him to say, but this was Simon Croker, not Nick Croker.

"Okay, you want it, you're going to get it. I was mentally undressing you."

"I'm not gay. So you're wasting your time."

"It's rude to interrupt. You asked me a question and so it's polite to listen to the answer. I was mentally undressing you and thinking what it would be like to shag your butt and I think I'd enjoy it."

"Forget it, gayboy, because it ain't going to happen. At that he got up and walked away and his friends followed him. Rather than feeling rejected, Simon just replied

"Just you wait and see, you gorgeous little lush."

---

The Easter holidays passed too quickly. Mum and Dad took us away to the sun and beach for a fortnight and then it was time to return to school. Simon and I had a lot of fun, which goes without saying. To begin with, we had to share a room. No more need be said there. We met a lot of hot boys our own age. That's censored. We went to the disco in the hotel and we both danced with boys. It was fairly dark and no one seemed to care anyway. After all, it appears quite acceptable for girls to dance with each other. We did have to manage an unpleasant homophobic incident, but we dealt with that in the time honoured way. We turned on our heels and legged it as fast as possible. We found the nudist beach, but didn't dare go there, not because we were afraid to show off our bodies, but because we were scared of popping boners, both of us, and as a result missed some pretty significant eye candy, and, dare I modestly suggest, so did the nudists!!! All good things must come to an end and so it was back to England and the routine of school. Oh! I almost forgot. We celebrated Simon's birthday while on holiday. Now that he was fourteen and only a year younger than me for a few months there was no stopping him and finally I gave in to his nagging and I shaved his pubes off for him. It made him look good, I must admit.

However, there was while we were on holiday one typically Simon moment on his birthday. We were sitting round the table in the hotel restaurant when Simon suddenly asked "Mum, was I an accident?"

"Of course not, darling. What on earth made you think you were?" I was astounded. Dad harrumphed, but had no newspaper to hide behind.

"It's just something we were talking about at school last term and everybody who had brothers and sisters said that there were about three or four years between them and one of them had just one brother who was nine years older and someone else said he must have been an accident. Then when we were talking about me being a year younger than Nick instead of two, it started me thinking, but the other way round, and I wondered whether I was conceived too early."

"No, darling," answered Mum. "We were always thinking of having two children and we thought it would be nice to have them close together so that they'd be friends as well as siblings, and look, Simon, it worked. And nature works in a funny way. You can't always plan these things."

"Did you want a girl instead of me?"

"Not particularly. We didn't mind."

"I wonder if she would have been a lesbian." Dad wanted to harrumph in the middle of a sip of beer and nearly choked himself.

"Oh, can I have another piece of birthday cake, please?"

"Certainly, darling. Would you like to cut it yourself?"

"Sure. May I stay up later as it's my birthday?" and he continued quite happily and unfazed munching on his birthday cake. That was so Simon, now that I understand words that much better, Simple Simon, not in the sense of stupid, but disingenuous. What is there not to love about my baby brother?

---

On the first day of term things picked up from where they had left off before the holidays and began with Simon's conversation with me on the way to the bus stop. "Nick, I bet you five pounds that I'll have sex with Eddie Francis before the end of term."

"Simon, I'm not taking that bet. I know you'll have sex with him and you won't need twelve weeks or a five pound wager to achieve it."

"Do you think so, bro?" he said, feeling somewhat encouraged.

"All I will say to you, big brother to baby brother, is that you seduce him and in no way assault him. Do you promise?"

"I promise, Nicky. I wasn't going to rape him anyway. I learnt one or two things when we were on holiday."

"Oh, yeah. You didn't tell me."

"I don't tell you everything. You don't tell me everything. What about that blond Danish kid, looked a bit like a wrestler, you were dancing with at the disco on the last night?"

"He really was an amateur wrestler, and the same age as me, called Peter Schmidt. What about him?"

"Well, it wasn't a quick frot on the dance floor and goodnight kiss, was it?"

"Do you really want to know what happened?"

"You don't have to tell me."

"I know, but I don't mind. We went back to his room, he sucked me and when I thought he'd sucked me dry, he shagged my arse, hit the P-spot and made me come all over again."

"You're pulling my plonker, Nick."

"No I'm not. I've still got the rubber as a souvenir. I'll show you when we get home and you can get it DNA tested, if you don't believe me. Okay, I've told you one thing I did. What did you get up to?"

"I had one top f**k and one bottom f**k with different boys."

"With that Swiss boy?"

"Urs, yes, and the Dutch boy."

"I quite fancied the Swiss boy myself. The Dutch boy wasn't bad, either. I must admit I've taught you good taste in your choice of partners."

"He was the top and said it was his first time."

"So you seduced him ?"

"I suppose you could say that," Simon said with false modesty, huffing on his fingernails and polishing them on the lapel of his blazer.

"I am so proud of you, my baby brother."

"Not so much of the baby, Nicky boy. I'm only a year younger than you and babies can't f**k."

As ever, the topic of conversation had to change radically as we neared the bus stop and civilisation. When we got off the bus, we saw the usual miscreants hanging around the school gate. Aaron Berstead was obviously in need of a new partner. How things had changed over six months. While I had to concede that I was grateful to him for his peculiar form of sex education, I would no more desire any physical contact with him than jump off a motorway bridge. How could I have ever found him attractive? Lack of experience and a certain desperation I suppose, though I didn't realise it at the time. While we were crossing the road, the Tranter brothers arrived. Christian dumped his younger brother in favour of his old sex buddy. I wondered if they were an item again. Aaron must have run through Year 10 twice over by now. Nathan ran up to Simon and gave him a big hug. I was jealous. I could hug Simon at home any time I wanted to, but Nathan… "Haven't you got one for me, Natt?"

"One what?"

"A hug, dumbo." He handed his backpack to Simon, ran across and put his arms round me. I pulled him in. I enjoyed. "You randy little sod."

"Wot?"

"You've got a hard-on already. Didn't you have a wank in the shower this morning?"

"I only have to see a Croker boy and I pop a boner. Two Croker boys at once plus two hugs, what do you expect?" We were trying our luck. Hugs were permitted, but discouraged in school; outside on the pavement in public they were a big no-no. Mr Timmis walked past and ticked us off, but there was little conviction in the tone of his voice. I smiled at him sweetly. How a fit young PE master can go weak at the knees I do not know. It should have been a detention offence at least – hugging in the street, I mean, not smiling seductively at a member of staff. "I did anyway," said Nathan.

"Did what?" My mind was returning from seventh heaven, and two weeks' deprivation.

"Have a wank in the shower this morning."

"Then, Jonathan Tranter, you're far hornier than I ever imagined. That boyfriend of yours is obviously not looking after you properly." Simon and Nathan grinned at one another.

"I wouldn't say that," said Nathan.

We turned and walked through the school gates together. Ransom overtook us and glared. He had the sense not to say anything. I don't think he liked people being happy, let alone gay. Meanwhile Tony had caught up with us. "Hi, you guys, I hear we're coming with our parents to yours for dinner on Saturday."

"Something like that." I replied.

"They want to swap notes on having gay sons," said Simon. "I hope they'll let us join in."

"They won't," I said.

"Yeah," said Tony. "That's far too sensible for adults."

"I'm sure we'll find something to do," said Nathan, grinning at Simon.

"Yeah, I'll show you my holiday snaps," said Simon. We split and went off to our tutor groups.

By morning break we were back into routine and it was as if we'd never been away. At lunch Simon and Nathan were conspicuous by their absence. I later noticed that they were over with a crowd of Year 8s and I then knew that absence had made the heart grow fonder. Tony and I were having a peaceful lunch, discussing what we had done on holiday. It was a good thing that we enjoyed an open relationship. Suddenly Nathan was sitting down by Tony, and Simon was sliding along the bench and crashing into me. Note to self: must sit at the small tables that have chairs tomorrow. "I've got something to show you in a minute, bro." I didn't think he could show me anything I hadn't seen before. Nathan was obviously in on the ploy for he took Tony away with him after we had put our trays onto the trolley. Simon took me to the main school notice board in the quad. "Take a look at this, Nick." I read the notice out aloud.

"'Camping expedition for Years 8 and 9. Early May Bank Holiday weekend.' Yeah, sounds great, Si. Are you thinking of putting your name down?"

"Read on a bit, Nick."

"Oh, I see. 'Signed A Timmis.' Yeah, pity it's not for Year 10s as well."

"No, Nick, further still," said Simon, his voice filled with frustration.

"It's just a list of names."

"That's right, and the third one?"

"E E Francis."

"That's right. Do you think Mum will let me go camping?

"I expect so. As long as you don't tell her your real reason."

"What? To get out into the country for some healthy fresh air over the long weekend?"

"That's right. And I'll tell her it's because you want to have your evil way with an innocent heterosexual boy younger than yourself?"

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"You're right. I wouldn't, but I'm still jealous."

"What, because of Eddie Francis?"

"No, you twat. Because of Mr Timmis."

"Shall I put my name down?"

"Check with Mum first. The list will still be there tomorrow."

Simon brought up the topic over tea and Mum said we didn't have anything arranged for that weekend. "You know the weather can still be quite chilly at the beginning of May, don't you, Simon?"

"That's okay," he replied. "I'll take plenty of warm clothing."

"I wish I were going," I chimed in, not so much as a wish, rather as some support for my brother.

"That's because Mr Timmis is taking it," said Simon. I blushed. I could feel that. I gave him a filthy look.

"Simon wants to get out into the country for some healthy fresh air," I said, this time not so much to support him, but to remind him of our earlier conversation in which I threatened to tell everyone it was because he had the hots for this Year 8 boy and wanted to get his wicked way.

"Oops, I shouldn't have said that." He flashed his eyelashes at my, gave me a sexy smile and said "Sorry, Nicky."

Tuesday morning Simon added his name to the list. Wednesday, after PE, I fiddled with myself in the showers so that my dick filled with blood and expanded, but not enough to make it stiff, just sufficiently to make it more arousing. Then I walked back to the changing room – Tony called it mincing – stopped by Mr Timmis and said

"Sir, can I ask you a question, please?"

"Certainly, Croker," he replied, but I think you'd better get dressed first," in an 'I'm soon going to be a respectable married man' tone of voice. My dick had obviously performed its task well. I got dressed quickly. Meanwhile Mr Timmis had placed the apparatus for his next lesson and was practising handstands in those short shorts of his. He didn't notice me standing there for about ten seconds. It was the answer to a maiden's prayer. Not that I have been a maiden for some weeks now. His comp top had been deprived of all its secrets. I was so excited that I almost forgot what I wanted to ask. "Yes, Croker," he demanded as he resumed the upright position.

"Sir, I wanted to ask… It's not for me, you see."

"Croker, just ask."

"My brother has put his name down for your camping trip."

"I noticed."

"He's a bit too shy to ask, but…

"Shy is not a word I readily associate with Croker minor."

"You don't know him like I do. You see, he would to share a tent with Francis."

"Eddie Francis?"

"That's right. They're good friends, but he's scared that if he asks himself, people will think he's gay."

"And we can't have that now, Croker, can we?"

"No, sir." I realised from the tone of voice I'd been busted.

"I hear what you say, Croker. I can't make any promises. Hurry along or you'll be late and you'll blame it on me."

"Oh, I'd never do that, sir," and I gave him one of my most seductive smiles. I was just about to go when I turned round and said "Sir, I don't suppose I could come as well, do you?"

"Which year groups is it for, Croker?" I flashed my eyelashes.

"Years 8 and 9, sir."

"And which year are you in, Croker major?"

"Year 10, sir."

"Need I say more, Croker?"

"No, sir." I gave him an extra sweet, seductive smile before I finally went off. "God, Nick, you are such a tart." I thought that was Tony saying it to me, but there was nobody else around. It must have my inner self talking to my outer self.

After school Tony and I went back to his place to work on our PHSE project. We'd missed Monday because it was the first day of term and we weren't back into the routine, but now both of us were feeling a bit desperate. On the walk to his house I said "Tony, I don't know if you've found this, but at the moment I find it difficult getting my dick and balls to sit comfortably in my trousers."

"Yeah, I've had that. Chas said it's a puberty thing. At our time of life our tackle suddenly grows and it's quicker in proportion to the rest of our body. So we don't have time to get used to it, and our balls and dick feel uncomfortable and need adjusting till we get used to the new size and shape and our junk feels comfortable again."

"I suppose it's a facet of boywatching we ought to develop."

---

I don't know how many weeks ago it was that I suggested Mum and Dad spoke to Tony's and Nathan's parents, but at last it was happening. Mum had invited Mr and Mrs Maltby and Tony, and Mr and Mrs Tranter and Nathan to dinner. I don't know how she carried it off, but she made it clear that Christian Tranter was not included in the invitation. This was the first family dinner party that we'd been allowed to join in. Normally it was early tea and, after greeting the guests, we were sent upstairs to amuse ourselves. That was largely in the days before sex had raised its beautiful head.

Naturally, before the event, we had a lecture on what to do and what not to do, how to look after Tony and Nathan as they were our guests. We were to join in the conversation at table, but not dominate it. Mum was staring at Simon when she said that bit. When we were eating in the kitchen as a family we were served with our food, but with guests in the dining room we had to serve ourselves and FHB – family hold back – until the guests had helped themselves. Always leave something in the dish in case the guests would like some more. "Oh, and you dress for the occasion. What you wear to the Dog & Duck is quite suitable." Finally we were told that when the coffee was being served we should ask to be excused and we could take our guests upstairs and play games. Play games, yess. Mum and us were obviously on the same wavelength there.

The doorbell rang and it was the Tranters who were the first to arrive and they were invited in. We had the usual "mwah, mwah' of a greeting kiss between the adults. Thank goodness they didn't attempt to touch us youngsters. Plus point there, but Simon looked at me and I looked at Simon and we tacitly agreed that it would suit the occasion if we gave our guest Nathan hugs. In a split second the following thoughts went through my brain. For one thing these days I seem to be walking around with a permanent half hard-on, that is to say when I haven't actually got a full hard-on. The other thought was that it wasn't really a proper hug if you didn't grind packages. I just wanted to make that clear before I put my arms round Nathan and pulled him in. I was not surprised that he had a semi as he had already had hugs with Simon. Of course this ruined the master plan for the evening since I had resolved to dismiss sex completely from my mind, well, at least till coffee was served, but within seconds it had failed and again forced my feelings of lust for Nathan Tranter to the surface. Tonight I would be in the company of three boys all of whom stirred up my hormones and for whom I had feelings, albeit in a different way for each boy. And I was expected to sit there and behave myself! Heterosexual adults simply do not understand.

"You've got a stiffie, Nick," Natt whispered to me as the grown ups chatted away.

"So have you," I replied, licking my lips with just the merest tip of my tongue in as provocative way I could manage.

"I know," he smiled and his whole face was illuminated with sex appeal. "I hope this evening's not going to be a disappointment when it's been planned for so long," and if that wasn't a subliminal message, I don't know what is.

All this was interrupted by another ring of the doorbell. The Maltbys had arrived and with them Tony who for Simon and me suddenly and exclusively became the centre of attention. Immediately we were struck by the moleskin trousers he was wearing, red, but on the pinkish side of red, and they were skintight touching everywhere, but particularly enhancing his package at the front, which looked bigger than I had ever noticed it before, and at the back the splitting his butt cheeks with the material disappearing up his crevice. "Like them, Nick?"

"I sure do," and I liked them even more when we hugged. "What have you got on underneath?" I could see he wasn't going commando.

"Tell you all about it later. Better still, I'll show you later. Had a bit of a problem with the 'rents before we left. They just do not understand modern fashion." However, it did not stop there. Earring in right ear and a necklace. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, okay, but I could see he was also wearing make up, lip gloss and a hint of rouge, and his hair had been combed up, obviously held with hair lacquer and it was black with blond streaks. "Sis did a good job, didn't she?" he said with a grin as he saw me admiring it.

"B-but the make up?" I stammered.

"Yeah, I'll tell you about that too. I think it's time for me to come out."

"But you're already out."

"Come along, boys," I heard my mother calling. "Come and help with serving the drinks.

The dinner went really well. Mum's cooking was always excellent, but the trimmings, the table decorations made it extra special and made up for the lack of a waiter like Ben at the Dog & Duck. The adults really made us feel part of it and didn't talk down to us in the way that elderly relations did. They asked us about school, how we were treated as gay pupils by the other boys. It was good to be able to tell that a lot of us were out at school; we didn't know how many weren't out, that was logical, and that after the initial excitement everything went back to normal. What about members of staff? I said that as far as we knew there was only one member of staff that was gay, he knows we are gay, and we were sure that from a distance he keeps an eye on us, but sadly he was leaving in July.

The end of the meal eventually arrived. Simon and I didn't even have to do our usual end of meal chores. This was a special occasion. The coffee was being served. On cue we boys made our excuses and duly disappeared upstairs, more precisely to my room. We chatted about the meal, as an occasion rather than about the food until I could no longer resist doing what I wanted to do, quiz Tony. He had made himself the centre of attention. "Okay, guys, what do you want to know?"

"The trousers," said Nathan.

"The make up," said Simon.

"The big secret," said I.

"Okay, one at a time," replied Tony, thriving on the pressure and loving the interest and adoration. "Nothing special about the trousers. When you've been boywatching, you must have seen trousers like these. They started out a sort of orangy brown, then red and pink became popular."

"We know all that," said Nathan, but it's the way they fit you."

"What he's trying to say," said Simon, "is that your bulge has never looked so big and your bum has never looked so attractive."

"Oh, thank you, guys. I'm glad you recognise quality when you see it."

"Have you stuffed a pair of socks down the front?" said Simon.

"Two pairs," said Nathan.

"Don't be cheeky," said Tony "or I won't show you." Great intake of breath. He pulled down his zip. I went and locked the door to stop Mum from barging in. "I bought a dance belt off the internet."

"What's that?" said Nathan.

"It's a cross between a jockstrap and a thong made specially for dancers in tights. Instead of keeping your junk down, it lifts it up so that you don't crack your nuts when dancing The Nutcracker ." At that Tony undid the belt and dropped his trousers. Sounds of approval and admiration went round the room as he did a twirl to show off his butt."

"Oooh," said Simon. "So that's why ballet dancers always appear to have bigger bulges than everyone else.

"Everybody's got a bigger bulge than you, Simon," said Tony.

"Hey, that's not true," Simon protested. "Is it, Nick?"

"Might have been true a year ago, but my baby brother's growing up to be quite a big boy now, aren't you, Si?" I said in his defence.

"I'll show you if you want," and he was about to unzip his trousers when I said

"Not now, Simon. Keep it till later." Tony and Nathan pricked their ears up at that. "But I dare you to wear it in PE next lesson, and stand near Mr Timmis."

"Sorry, Simon, only joking. Give me a hug." After the hug Tony said "He's right, you know."

"Okay," said Simon, "what about the make up?"

"I think I told you that my sister works in a beauty parlour and she looks after my hair for the weekend and puts it back to normal for school. Well, she says it's perfectly all right for boys to wear make up these days. Even straight guys do it and she's teaching me how to do make up properly, but gradually because although my parents have fully accepted that I'm gay, they're still a bit apprehensive about other gay things. She's talking to Mum and Dad and slowly persuading them. Which, before you ask, Nick, brings me on to the third thing.

"Now, listen guys. This is really special to me. At the moment my sister is the only other person that knows this. Not even my parents and so you've got to swear you won't breath a word of this to anyone else." We duly swore. He lowered his voice. "I've got this deep down urge to dress up as a girl." Simon grinned, Nathan tittered, I said seriously "Tony, you don't actually want to be a girl?"

"Oh, no, no. I love boys and being a boy too much. I just think I need to get this out of my system and then I can get back to being a normal gayboy. My sister has put some of her old things in a charity bag for me and I've bought a couple of items at a charity shop. I'm just waiting for the opportunity. Hey, Nick, would you go on a date with me, if I dressed up as a girl?"

"I'd have to think about that one, Tony. I've got my reputation to think about. It might be damaged if anyone from school saw me dating a girl."

We sat there in silence for a few moments. Finally I said "How about playing game?"

"Trivial Pursuits?" asked Tony.

"Computer games?" said Nathan.

"We thought of something different," I said. "Forfeits."

"Spin the Bottle Forfeits," added Simon.

"Gay Spin the Bottle Forfeits. While Simon fetches a bottle from the kitchen, I'll explain the rules." Simon went down to the kitchen.

"Okay, guys, I'm sure both of you have played Spin the Bottle before. So you know the basic idea."

"Yeah," said Tony in a lascivious tone of voice, "Strip Spin the Bottle."

"Okay, you've got the idea, but instead of stripping you will have to pay a forfeit which the person spinning the bottle will demand…" Simon burst through the door with a wine bottle in his hand. "… and that forfeit will be something gay. Local rules. The forfeit must take no more than a minute. No repeats. If the bottle points to the same person twice in a row, it's spun until it chooses a different person. Any questions? No? Okay. Sit on the floor in a circle and I'll spin the bottle to find out who sets the first forfeit."

I spun it and it pointed to Nathan. "Okay, Natt, spin it again. From now on it's serious." It pointed to Simon. "What's the forfeit, Natt?"

"Simon, you've got to show us your dick."

"That's not a forfeit," I exclaimed. "He does it all the time." Simon looked at me resentfully and said

"Family secrets, Nicholas." Everybody laughed. He then got up onto his knees, unzipped his trousers and pulled out his wand to everybody's approval. After putting it away again, he spun the bottle. It stopped on Tony. Simon said "You've got to feel Nick's balls." I stood up and Tony was about to put his hand up between my legs when I said

"Hey, no! He said you've got to feel my balls, not the crotch of my trousers," and I unzipped my flies and guided his hand inside my slip so that he felt the real thing. Of course that chubbed me up and I had to zip up before I popped an uncontrollable boner. Simon spun the bottle which stopped on his best friend.

"Natt, you've got to kiss my brother." That didn't seem to faze him. "With tongues," he added. That didn't faze him, either. Nor me. I let him get me up against the bedroom door when he licked my lips, pushed his tongue against mine, I pushed back and got my tongue into his mouth and meantime we were grinding our hardening packages together. We were in ecstasy when all of a sudden I heard Simon's voice. "Stop, you two. Your minute's up." Time had been standing still.

Nathan spun the bottle. This time it stopped on Tony again. Without hesitation Nathan said "You've got to moon." Great, I thought, after an evening of lusting over Tony's tight trousers. With no hesitation either, Tony dropped his pink moleskin trousers bent over and as he did so, he ripped off a tremendous fart which caused mayhem with guffaws and mock distaste and asphyxiation along with threats of assassination and ramming a cork up his arse. We could see the mechanics of his dance belt from the back and, of course, the central strap which had disappeared up his crevice acted as an additional vocal chord in distorting the sound of his rectal wind. We shouted at him to pull his trousers up as quickly as possible while we were still alive.

With calm restored Tony spun the bottle and it landed on him. He spun again and it landed on me. With a wicked grin Tony said "Nick, you've got to kiss my arse."

"Oh, no! It'll make me puke up, if I do."

"You've still got to do it."

"Okay, but you've got to promise not to let one go, if I do."

"I promise." He dropped his trousers again, I carried out the forfeit and spun the bottle. I wanted it to stop on Tony. It stopped half between the two of us and he insisted I spun it again. I put a little more torque on. This was not revenge, but I had a particular quest. Yes! Success. It stopped on Tony.

"You've got to show us your dance belt and how it works." For the third time he dropped his trousers. He let us see his bulge, touch it, he lowered the dance belt and put it back on, showing how he arranged his junk. We were all suitably impressed. It was his turn to spin. The bottle turned slowly. I knew what he was trying to do and by the look on his face he succeeded. The neck of the bottle pointed to Nathan.

"Okay, Natt, here's your forfeit." Tony was wasting no time. "You have to suck Nick's cock for a minute." I gave an involuntary groan. This was going to be pain and pleasure, pleasure because in the heat of the moment there was nothing I'd like more than for Nathan to blow me – Tony knew that, Simon knew that – and torture because a minute would arouse me and then let me down feeling frustrated. I stood up and Nathan knelt in front of me. I dropped my trousers. "You randy little git," said Tony. "You're hard already."

"Piss off. You would be as well. I bet you are already."

"Then you'll have to spin the bottle to find out," he grinned. Nathan pulled my slip over my cock which sprang to the almost vertical. My acorn shone deep red and a large globule of precum had formed on its slit.

"Your minute starts now," Simon called out. Nathan had had time to work up plenty of spit. He slowly drew his tongue across my hairless balls, up the shaft, licked off the natural lube and took my cock into to his mouth. I was in heaven until Simon, all too soon I was sure, called out "Time!" My whole body felt the frustration and I had difficulty getting my slip and trousers back on.

I spun the bottle, this time anticlockwise, trying my utmost to make it point at Tony, sod's law, it stopped halfway between Simon and Nathan, when my mobile rang. I looked at it. A text from my mother saying that our visitors were leaving in five minutes.

We decided to finish the game there amidst a lot of laughter and went downstairs. "I hope you've had a good time, you boys," Mum said.

"Great, thank you, Mrs Croker," was the combined reply.

"You were certainly making enough noise about it. What were you doing? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"Only playing Spin the Bottle," said Simon.

"Not Strip Spin the Bottle, I hope."

"Nah, no point," he said. "We've already seen each other in the showers at school." The other parents laughed. Obviously the wine had been flowing freely.

Everybody said good night. The adults went 'mwah mwah', the boys hugged and the visiting families climbed into their waiting taxis and drove off into the night.

"That was a really enjoyable evening," Mum said. "We all got on so well together and we're going to do this again."

"What did you talk about?" I asked in a more earnest tone.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, boys. We just want to clear away and get to bed." Simon and I helped a little bit and then went up to bed. It was not only a question of Mum and Dad telling us what they were talking about, but building up a picture from the other two, Tony and Natt.

We didn't have a chance to speak at school until lunchtime. We gathered at one of the tables for four with chairs rather than forms in the hope that we wouldn't be interrupted. "Okay," I said to Tony and Nathan, "give."

"Yeah," said Simon. "Our parents talked a lot about what a wonderful evening it was and how they'd learnt a lot and that they were going to do it again, but they didn't actually tell us anything."

"To begin with, all the parents know that all us kids do it."

"Do it?" I said, more for clarification than out of naïvity.

"Shag butt," replied Tony.

"Shh!" said Nathan. "You'll have everybody around listening to us." We looked round and too late. There were indeed people staring at us."

"Let's eat up and get out of here," I said.

We hurried our meals and went for a walk round the fields. "Gayboys," said Ransom audibly under his breath as we walked past. Three of us ignored him, but Tony turned round and with a smile and said "Bobby, sweetie, I really ought punch that cute little face of yours and knee you in the groin, but I fancy you so much that I'll settle for getting my tongue into that eloquent mouth of yours and my hand inside your bulging trousers and giving you the most delightful five minutes you've ever had in your life. We all know you're a closet homo and that you're in the closet because with that teeny little todger of yours you can't get any." We turned and walked off, leaving Bob Ransom mouthing all the dire threats that were coming into his not too bright little head.

"Okay, where were we?" I said to get us back to what we were supposed to be discussing.

"Our parents know we f**k," said Tony.

"How do they know that?" said Simon.

"First it's no secret about me and my cousin Chas. So my parents assumed that Nick and me also did it together and it probably 'came up in conversation' on Saturday."

"I wonder if my brother split on me," said Nathan.

"But what about me?" said Simon. "I mean us." I shrugged my shoulders.

"We only make love when our parents are out."

"And we don't use protection. So we can't have left any condoms lying around and all our supplies are locked away," said Simon.

"So much for family secrets," I exclaimed, rolling my eyes and looking upwards.

"Sorry, bro. I'll make it up to you later," and he batted his eyelids.

"But only if your parents are out," added Tony wickedly.

"Don't worry. There are plenty of other things we can do, since you're so interested."

"Who's the top and who's the bottom?" said Nathan.

"Natt!" shouted Simon.

"We're versatile, if you must know," I answered. "Anything else we need to know?"

"They don't exactly approve, but they prefer you to do whatever you do at home rather than in some sordid alley and you get caught and arrested, or beaten up even. They think you'd find some way anyway, and also it's not long before you're sixteen and become legal."

"What do they think about us being gay?"

"Of course, they'd rather we weren't gay. I suppose we do deep down if we're honest, but this is where the talking helped. They all realise that no one chooses it and you can't be cured and we've all got to find our path to happiness in life."

The first bell rang and we made our way towards the classrooms for afternoon lessons. "All right for our PHSE project work after school?" asked Tony.

"Sure am," I replied. "Tell Mum where I am, Si."

---

As you know I didn't go on the school camp and so I'm going to hand over to Simon to tell you what happened.

"Hi, guys. This is Simon and Nick's letting me tell you the story of what happened when we went off on that camp with Year 8. Nick already knows, but I discovered two new gayboys in Year 8, but more of that later."

---

On Friday we had to bring our kit to school and so Dad took us in the car. He told us not to make a habit of it. Huh! Nick said it was the first time he been driven to school since he'd been there. We were allowed not to wear school uniform, which seemed odd, specially as the wimps, sorry, I mean other kids that weren't going, still had to wear their uniform. We were allowed to miss lessons that afternoon. After lunch we loaded all our kit into a big trailer pulled by a van which Mr Timmis drove. We didn't have to bring our own tents. The school had enough two-man tents and Mr Timmis said it was better if we had all the same and it made it easier to pitch camp, particularly as we were at a public campsite and not deep in the country or the woods somewhere. There were thirty of us boys with three members of staff. Mr Timmis drove off, saying he would see us when we arrived. We climbed onto a hired coach. Being senior Year 9 took over the back of the coach while Year 8 had to sit in the front half. I was sorry that Nathan wasn't coming with us, but the upside was it gave me a free hand to get to know Eddie better… hem, hem! Nick was the only other person who knew about my secret. I had packed some 'supplies' in my rucksack because even though I didn't know of any other gay kids other than me that were in the party, you never know. None of us knew who we were going to share with. Mr Timmis wouldn't let us choose because we have to learn to get on with other people in life and this was good practice for that. He had just put all the Year 9 names in a hat, drew them out and did the same with the Year 8 names, but he wouldn't tell us until it was time to put our tents up. I just hoped I wouldn't end up with a homophobe, but then I couldn't think of one in our year.

When we arrived, we saw the van and the trailer parked up. Mr Timmis had unloaded the tents and laid them out on the field where we were to pitch them and they showed a number. He had already put up his tent and the one for the other two masters, and naturally they were nearest to the ablutions block and the canteen. We all piled off the coach and collected our belongings to await further instructions. He welcomed us and asked how many of us had never put up a tent before. There were only four and if they ended up sharing, they just had to ask for help.

"Listen carefully, boys, while I read out the number of your tent." Everybody listened keenly to find out who they were sharing with. The allocation started with number three which was next to the staff tents. No fun there. Funnily enough the sorting hat had put the two greatest Year 9 troublemakers next to them. Number four was given to the two most mischievous boys in Year 8. There were cheers or jeers, approval and disapproval, as the list was read out. The year groups' tents were mixed up so that there was no 'them and us'. I listened impatiently to find out who I was sharing with, also as the tents got farther and farther away from the 'comfort zone'. "And finally tent number thirty-two Croker S and Francis E." I could hardly believe my ears. I had been listening for my name so anxiously that I had forgotten to listen out for Eddie's as well. Then the logic dawned on me that if there were fifteen from each year group, which there was, at least one Year 9 had to share with a Year 8. My, what a sorting hat that was.

I grinned at Eddie; he gave me a diffident smile back as we grabbed our kit and carried it across to our tent at the farthest corner of the camp. Okay, longest way to go, but least likely to be disturbed. My lascivious mind was trying to work out a game plan. "Hey, Eddie, are you okay with putting up a tent?"

"Sure, Cr… er… Simon. You don't mind if I call you Simon, do you?"

"Course not. You can call me anytime, especially if we're going to sleep together." Eddie didn't seem to see the pun.

"Yeah, I've put up a tent in the garden, but never one of these before."

"Piece of piss. Give me a hand to roll out the groundsheet."

In twenty minutes we were done. The staff came round to inspect and see if we'd done everything properly and told us tea would be in the canteen in five minutes' time. Eddie laid his sleeping bag out over the tent to air and we made our way towards the canteen. We queued up for our meal, sausages, chips, fried eggs, fried onions and lashings of baked beans. Someone had a sense of humour to put that on the menu for teenagers sleeping in the confines of a small tent; then spotted dick and custard. The foodies would have had a fit.

When we'd been fed and watered, we sat in the common room while Mr Timmis gave us instructions and told us about the weekend. "If you boys don't go home absolutely exhausted on Monday afternoon, then we won't have done our job properly," he said. "And so I suggest an early night." We were already tired just from sitting on the coach.

In the meantime it had grown dark. Not only that, there had been a short sharp shower of rain. "Oh, no!" cried Eddie as we got back to our tent. "I forgot I left my sleeping bag out. What do I do now?" I put my arm round his shoulder and pulled him into me.

"Stop worrying is the first thing. We'll put your sleeping bag in the drying room. It'll be dry by morning." Eddie looked as if he was going to burst into tears, a far cry from the brave boxer at the end of last term.

"But where am I going to sleep?"

"Don't worry about that, either. I've got a double sleeping bag. So you can climb in with me. Look, we'd better get a move on."

The campsite was well lit, but the lights went out at ten o'clock. We did what we had to do in the ablutions block. We got undressed for bed. I was wearing just a pair of shorts, but with wicked thoughts in my mind I pulled them off as soon as I'd climbed into the sleeping bag. Eddie was dressed in tracksuit top and bottoms. Not much chance of any naughtiness there, I thought. Still we're all tired and there are three days to go. Eddie climbed into the bag and positioned himself as far away from me as he could. We'd hardly said good night when I must have fallen asleep.

I woke up dying for a pee. I got up and went outside the tent stark naked. The only source of light was the moon. I could tell from my watch it had just gone midnight. Sod this. I'm not going to the loos and I peed up against a tree, shook off particularly hard, gave my balls a quick jiggle and got back into the tent and my sleeping bag. I hadn't had a wank since Friday morning and my balls were feeling a bit heavy. Eddie was fast asleep. I couldn't get back to sleep. I don't know how long I lay there. It seemed like hours. Then I felt a hand reach out. I looked at Eddie. He was still fast asleep. His hand touched my body. It was grasping for something and when it reached my groin I knew what. He was fondling my balls. Within seconds I was hard. The hand felt for my cock, found it and slowly, but surely it wanked it. I just lay there, struggling to steady my breathing so as not to wake Eddie. This was heaven and I was determined to let him complete the job. I could hold back no more. I shot my load into the void. Where my spunk landed, I know not. I'll worry about it in the morning. I couldn't even be bothered to find my shorts. I heard a little giggle. So the little bugger wasn't asleep after all, but I was too tired to protest. The next thing I knew it was dawn. I looked at my watch. Another hour until we had to get up.

"Eddie, are you awake?"

"I am now."

"How did you sleep?"

"Like a top. I can't remember a thing."

"I think you remember one thing." I looked him straight in the face.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

"I thought you were asleep."

"Eddie, I thought you were asleep." He giggled. "It was the giggle that gave you away. You owe me big time and I'm going to collect before we go home." I leant over and was about to kiss him on the lips, but… ugh, piss breath, both of us, and I drew back.

"Simon, you haven't got any pubic hair."

"I know. I shave it off."

"Why?"

"In case someone tosses me off in the middle of the night, so that I don't wake up with sticky matted pubes."

"Does that happen often, Simon?"

"Not as often as I'd like it to, but I think we can soon sort that out, Eddie.

"Let's go and shower while nobody else is about. Then we can come back here and take our time." I put my shorts and a pullover on; Eddie was still in his tracksuit.

"I'm so sorry about last night," said Eddie. "I don't know what came over me."

"You know very well what came over you. You've still got the stains on your tracksuit to prove it." He looked.

"OMG, what am I going to do? It's the only one I brought. People are going to think I'm gay if they see those."

"Perhaps you are after what you did."

"No I'm not!"

"Don't worry, Eddie. I wasn't gay at your age and I'm not going to tell anybody. We can soon sponge it off with your flannel. I'm more worried about how I'm going to explain away the wank stains on the inside of the sleeping bag, when I get home. It'll be all right if it fits into the washing machine. We were taught to use the machine years ago. My mother doesn't like dealing with our manky sports kit."

I was impatient to get under the showers. Not only did I want to get rid of any residual stickiness, but it would also be my first chance to check out Eddie naked, and, more importantly, see if he checked me out. After all, my assignment was to seduce a straight boy and up to now it looks as if I might have been taken in by a closet gay guy. At first he was a little shy and kept facing the wall, but after admiring his almost non-existent butt, I talked to him so that he had to turn round and face me. I had only seen him properly at the boxing championships, but from peeping up the legs of his shorts, I was promising myself great things and I was not disappointed. He had a superb torso – tight muscles, a natural sixpack and he was so thin that I was expecting him to start running around in the shower to get wet. His nipples stood out, not erect, but visually, because they were a contrasting colour from his pure white skin and the size of a ten pence piece. His belly button was an innie, to be expected. I couldn't wait to stick the tip of my tongue in it. Then we came to the crown jewels. I suspect he was suffering from the effect of the chilly morning. Against his slight body his hairless balls were tight, but standing out from it and so they made his cock protrude with his foreskin covering not quite all of his glans. I wouldn't call it long, but it was definitely chunky and I was already chubbing up at the idea of having some fun with it. It would probably grow a bit as his body warmed up and my next question? Was he a grower or a show-er, a dribbler or a shooter? The whole was set off with black pubes, matching the colour of his hair, a tad longer than designer stubble. While I was making my initial assessment, Eddie's eyes had grown larger as he focussed on my equipment. I fondled it to loosen it up a bit. He exhaled through his teeth. "My, Simon, is that what I was handling last night?"

"Sure was, Eddie. Do you want to touch it again? Go on. Don't be shy. You're not the first and you coped very well with it last night."

"I don't want people to think we're gay, say, if someone comes in."

"Well, I am gay," I assured him. "I thought everyone at school knew that."

"You're not?"

"I am. Honest. It's great fun."

"But I'm not," protested Eddie.

"So you said. Probably not. A lot of kids go through a homosexual phase during puberty. It's a learning curve. Then they get through adolescence and discover girls and get on with their lives."

"How do you know all this, Simon?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Just do. Seen it happen with my friends and relations."

"Then how do you know it's not just a phase with you?"

"Because I'm deeply in love with a boy and he's in love with me. We don't want it to be a phase."

"And do you … er… do stuff with him?"

"We make love, if that's what you mean."

"Wot? You mean you f**k one another?"

"Well, not at the same time," I said facetiously wanting to remove the serious tone the conversation was taking for, as I probably mentioned, being gay is for me about having fun, "but you can call it that if you like. When you're in love, it's somehow different, more personal, more emotionally satisfying, closer. For instance, when we make love we never use protection. Then there's no barrier between us."

"But if you shagged me…"

"I would use a condom, Eddie."

"And what would your boyfriend say, if he found out?"

"He will find out. We have what's called an open relationship. We need to gain experience. We always tell each other what we've been up to and if it's something new, try it out on each other."

"And would you want to f**k me?"

"Why is it straights always think all we gays do is just pound butt? There are lots of other things we do, but to answer your question I might do." Slightly dishonest for at that moment in particular there was nothing I wanted to do than split his butt cheeks with my dick and penetrate his rosebud. I was even a little more than chubbing up which was a distraction for both of us. "Depends on the mood, both yours and mine."

"So what sort of things do you do?"

"You'll have to wait until tonight to find out. After what you did to me in the night, it'll be payback time."

We heard voices approaching. We didn't realise we had spent so long under the shower. We turned the water off, dried ourselves and made our way back to our tent. Eddie thought it strange for me to be walking along with my towel draped over my shoulder instead of round my waist. It turned out that he didn't have Mr Timmis for PE.

After breakfast we went for a guided walk round the area as a familiarisation exercise. We weren't told that it was in preparation for a wide game on Sunday evening. Mr Timmis was very much for leaving people to their own initiative. The wide game would sort out those with an enquiring mind for they would be able to exploit what they had observed on the walk. It would also bring forward the natural leaders. He and his colleagues did, however, point out things of interest, bird song, flowers, trees and bushes, things happening in the stream we walked along. He told us that if it had been later in the year and warmer, we would have done bridge building exercises, but the water was still too cold and he didn't want to risk hypothermia. We returned to the campsite and after lunch in the canteen we did the dry land equivalent with initiative exercises, that is to say with ropes and planks and oil drums and tape. Each group had to elect a different leader for each exercise.

After we'd cleared the equipment away, we had a couple of hours' free time. Some volunteered to help set up the barbecue and cook, others sat around and chatted and still others went and caught up with some sleep in their tents. "Hey, Eddie," I called. He was chatting with a group of his Year 8s. "Over here a minute." He sauntered across, "Want some fun?"

"What sort of fun did you have in mind, Si?"

"Have you already forgotten payback time?"

"Oh, that sort of fun. Why didn't you say? See you later, guys," he shouted across to his mates and waved. They cheered and wolf whistled. They'd obviously heard of my reputation even if Eddie hadn't. He flicked them the Vs and I gave them the finger and we all burst out into guffaws.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," shouted one of the Year 8s.

"I hope we do," Eddie called back in reckless defiance and misplaced courage.

We crawled into our tent. I hung a couple of empty tin cans on string outside the entrance in case someone was silly enough to disturb us. That was a trick Nick had taught me when we went camping. It would give us a few seconds warning. I laid out the bed rolls and spread out my double sleeping bag. Meanwhile Eddie was starting to get undressed. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Getting undressed ready."

"Well, ready Eddie, I know this is your first time, but that's not the way we do things. Trust me. Just come here and lie down beside me and I'll talk you through it." I took a Tupperware box out of my rucksack and put it ready. I also made sure a box of tissues was handy. I knew what I was intending, but that was no guarantee it would be what we ended up doing. I moved in on Eddie and put my arm round him and pulled him in. "Eddie, I'm going to give you a kiss."

"Hey, but boys don't do that."

"That shows how little you know." I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "There, that was all right, wasn't it? Better than kissing your auntie when you meet her?"

"Mmm, fine."

"Let's do it again, but make it last a bit longer." Our lips met and after a few seconds when I realised I had won his confidence, I ran the tip of my tongue over his lips, then broke the kiss.

"That's made me feel all tingly inside."

"Nice tingly?"

"Mmm, yes, nice tingly."

"Now you do it to me and make me feel nice and tingly inside." I was already, but that was too much information for Eddie. I felt his tongue run along my lips, but it didn't stop there. It pierced them and went right into my mouth. When we broke, I said "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"No, Si, I promise. This is my first time."

"Then you're a natural. Let's do it again." We touched tongues and made it last longer still.

"Hey, Simon, this is giving me a boner."

"That's what it's supposed to do." I put my spare hand down between his legs. It was hot and I felt his hard prick. "Is that nice?"

"Mmm."

"Do you want to do it to me?" He didn't answer, but I felt his hand between my legs stroking my hard cock through my shorts. While he was doing that, I nibbled his ear, which, from the moans, I gathered he liked. I moved my mouth down and ran my tongue over his neck and when it was wet enough, I sealed my lips over it and sucked very hard. After what I thought was about half a minute, (it had in fact been longer) I broke the seal, reformed it over his lips and stuck my tongue in as far as it would go. I would have to wait a while to see if Eddie was carrying my slave mark on his neck. There were other things to think about.

He broke the kiss, looked me in the face and smiled. "Did you like that?" I asked.

"Mmm, very much."

"There's more to come yet. Put your arms up. That's right." I pulled his tee shirt over his head, then took my own off. I licked his right nipple and sucked on it. The otherwise flat teat grew erect and I teased it with the tip of my tongue. Then I did the same with the left one. While I was doing that, Eddie was trying to kiss my neck, but I wasn't having any of that. There can only be one slave and one slavemaster. By then I was drooling sufficiently to dribble into his belly button which I proceeded to lick out. Still plenty of moans and groans of pleasure. The time had come for the pièce de résistance . I slowly pulled on the drawstring on Eddie's shorts. No objections. I gently tugged on them and they slipped down in one go over his knees and feet. The cock that now presented itself to me was very different from the one I saw in the showers that morning, now rigid with the foreskin fully retracted and thick shaft with its red glans shining, a fresh bubble of precum emerging from the slit and balls both loose and large. Eddie was expecting me to wank him off, but I changed my position, with the tip of my tongue quickly dealt with the bubble of precum and settled down to licking his balls, eventually taking one and then the other into my mouth. Try as I might I couldn't manage both at once.

Eddie's ecstasy had gone beyond speech, but experience told me he was yearning for his cock to receive some attention. I licked upwards on the shaft, over his glans and finally took his weapon into my mouth. He was so aroused that it didn't take long before he shouted "Simon, I'm going to come." It must have been heard all over the campsite. With a warning I could steady his cock and take the load in my mouth. As soon as I was unable to take any more, I moved up towards his head and stuck my tongue, spunk and all, into his mouth with the deepest kiss I could manage. With that we rolled apart, Eddie falling asleep and me feeling good because I had achieved what I had set out to achieve, seduce hot, heterosexual, virgin Eddie Francis. What next?

How I kept my hands off my own dick, I do not know. I did know that I had to keep something in reserve for later. I must have fallen asleep eventually for we were awoken by the tin cans rattling and Mr Timmis's voice calling "If you two have fallen asleep in there, it's time you woke up or you'll miss the barbecue. You've just got time to shower and change." When we turned up at the barbecue a huge cheer went up from both the Year 8s and the Year 9s. With the exception of Eddie everyone had noticed the lovebite on his neck. Even if I say so myself, I'd made rather a good job of it. I wonder what Mr Timmis thought. To this day I believe that Eddie knew nothing about it. It had mostly faded by Monday evening. He never mentioned it once, and neither did I.

Saturday evening was fun. There was plenty to eat at the barbecue and everyone had their fill. Everybody mixed well. After the food was finished, the barbecue acted as a campfire and we sat around singing songs. The evening finished with hot chocolate and biscuits. Everyone pitched in to clear up and after that people were keen to go to bed, including Eddie and me.

Eddie snuggled up to me. "You know you're giving me a boner, don't you?" I said.

"Uh ha," he replied. "I've got one too, Si."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Might be. Tell me. What have you got in that plastic box?"

"Supplies."

"What sort of supplies?"

"If you are a responsible active gayboy, you never go anywhere without 'supplies', especially if you know you're staying overnight somewhere."

"Let me see."

"Okay. First of all, jonnies, essential. The rest can be considered additional, even luxuries. K-Y lube, clean pair of undies."

"What's that with the string attached?"

"A tampon with inserter."

"What do you need that for?"

"You have to get used to the idea that sex is messy. It shouldn't happen if you're using a condom, but if you bareback someone, you might need to put that in afterwards to stop the spunk dripping out and soiling the sheets or your pants. Also the sphincter can leak shit, which is not very pleasant, and so surgical gloves. Cock ring,"

"What's that for?"

"It helps you stay harder longer. I'll show you."

"What are the nail scissors for?"

"Cutting nails?" I said sarcastically. "If your partner is giving you finger pie and has sharp nails, it can be a bit uncomfortable. Also you might need to cut away some pubic hair, especially if it's gunged up with dried spunk. Not that you'll have that problem with me."

"What else do gayboys get up to?"

"Rimming."

"What's that?" I pulled down my shorts and handed Eddie a torch. Then I knelt on all fours and said

"Pull my butt cheeks apart and shine the torch in. What do you see?"

'Some crinkly skin round your hole."

"That's called the rosebud. It's very sensitive, especially if your partner licks it."

"Licks it? You mean actually put your tongue in someone's butt? That must be dead yeuky."

"It's like bungee jumping, absolutely horrendous before you do it for the first time, but once you've done it, you want to do it again. But… you have to be very clean in there. Ideally you've taken a dump and had an enema, though an enema's a bit serious and a good rinse with soap and water will do the trick."

"Have you ever done it?"

"Sure."

"And have you had it done to you?"

"Yes."

"And would you do it to me?"

"If you want me to and you're clean, yes."

"Now?"

"That is a bit of a surprise, but if you really want me to, yes, but I warn you, if I do the job properly, you'll be so worked up that you'll beg me to go further and you'll lose your back cherry."

"I am so hard and moist from what you've told me so far, I don't care. I'm off to the shower block."

Although the campsite lights had already been switched off, Eddie grabbed his wash kit and a torch and towel and said he'd be back. He'd be all right inside the ablution block as the lights there were on a separate circuit. I lay there wondering what I had let myself in for. To begin with, the plan had been for me to seduce Eddie whereas it was turning out that he was pre-empting everything I had previously had in the back of my mind with little possibility of carrying it out. He came back smelling all clean and of toothpaste and hung up our primitive warning system on the tent pole. He stowed his wash kit, lay down beside me and snuggled up. That was enough to give us both boners and me an extreme feeling of horniness. We closed in on a snogging session. I wondered how I would cope if he changed his mind and didn't want to be f**ked, but then I realised that it was really down to me and my skill as a snogger. Until we'd finally stripped each other, anyone outside would have thought a wrestling match was going on in our tent, but I suppose that is better than thinking it was a hot session of gay sex.

Finally I got Eddie into the doggy position. Like a dog I sniffed his butt, pulled his cheeks apart and started licking, first deep into the crevice then as if trying to pierce his rosebud itself. From the whimpers and groans that emanated from Eddie I assumed I must be doing all the right things. "Have you had enough yet?"

"No," panted Eddie. "Keep going until you put your dick in my hole."

"Are you certain?"

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life." I had the lube ready. He jumped at the cold feeling.

"My hands are slippery now. You'll have to roll this jonnie over my nob." It was such a kick when he performed the final act of consent. He resumed the position as I lined up my rigid cock with his hole. The teat must already be filled with precum when I eventually managed to insert my cock. He was tight, no question a virgin. He yelped as I penetrated the sphincter, then it was back to the whimpers and groans I knew could only have originated from the pleasure I was injecting into him.

I tried to make it last. I think I succeeded to a large extent, but finally even I couldn't hold my love juices back any longer. The spasms didn't only go through my groin, but through my whole body. I pulled him with me as I fell back with him lying on top of me. My dick soon slackened and slipped out. I pulled off the condom, knotted it and secreted it in the 'supplies' box. Another 'proof of conquest' for my collection. I held my exhausted boy and we soon fell asleep.

On Sunday morning we again woke at dawn, long before we were due to get up. I stretched out my arm and pulled Eddie into me. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Odd." He paused and thought for a few moments. "I've got this funny sort of bruised feeling in my bum, like an ache, but it's a nice ache. Otherwise I feel on top of the world." We lay in silence for a bit.

"Would you do it again?"

"I think so," he answered cautiously. "I'd do it with you. I don't know about with anyone else." More silence. "Simon, would you let me do it to you?"

"What? Rim me or shag me?"

"Rim, I meant, but as you said, it's hard to rim someone and stop there. So I suppose both really."

"Well, I suppose I'd better go and get showered then." We both grabbed our wash kit. We were naked from last night's fun and because it was still so early we didn't bother to put anything on, not even trainers. "I see you're all ready, Eddie…" I giggled at the 'ready Eddie', while pointing at his erection.

"Morning wood," he said. I need to empty my bladder."

"I need to empty something else," I grinned.

We showered together and just when we were finishing off, I said "Hey, Eddie, here's a little trick you can learn." I unhooked the showerhead and unscrewed the rose. I reduced the flow to a trickle of tepid water, crouched down and gently inserted the nozzle into my butt. It remained there until I could take no more water, pulled the nozzle out and put the showerhead back together again. "Now I've got to hold the water in for as long as I can." I don't know how long I kept it in for, but suddenly I said "Out of the way, Eddie," and I expelled a gush of water from by butt. "That, Eddie, is an enema. You could eat your breakfast off of my butt now."

Wide eyed he replied "And I probably will."

We dried each other off. It was so erotic. Then we made our way back to the tent. I still had a half hard on and naked as we both were, my nob waved around like a tree branch in the wind, or twig as Nick would have said. We saw someone running towards us, but Eddie was as nonchalant as me about it.

"Good morning, Simon, good morning, Eddie." It was Mr Timmis returning from his morning run. He didn't see anything he hadn't seen before, well as far as I'm concerned, but it turned out that Eddie had been taught by him in Year 7.

"Good morning, sir."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you, sir," replied Eddie.

"I wondered," continued Mr Timmis. "You sounded so restless when I passed your tent on my late patrol last night that I thought you had fallen out and some all-in wrestling match was taking place."

"Oh?" I said. "We were so tired we fell asleep straightaway, sir" I lied.

"Don't be late for breakfast," he replied even though there must be at least an hour and a half to go.

"We've been busted," said Eddie in a stage whisper when he had gone.

"Probably," I said, "but don't worry. He bats for our team." Eddie looked shocked. "Or my team as I suppose I'd better say."

When we got back into our tent, our ardour had been dampened by the fresh dewy morning air. "We'd better warm each other up a bit first," I said. Before we climbed into our sleeping bag, I put the supplies out ready. I wasn't going to let a little cold damp air let us pass up on an opportunity. The first taste of our lovemaking was toothpaste. I knew I had to get Eddie in the mood again and although it took time, I roused him into a state where he could refuse me nothing. His tongue probed my crevice, my rosebud and tried to penetrate my hole. You would think he was an experienced old queen rather than a novice straightboy. Finally I could take no more. I needed the real thing. He lubed me. I had learnt to relish the sudden cold of the gel. I unrolled the jonnie over his rampant cock, a black one which contrasted with his pale skin, so that I wouldn't get it muddled with last night's white one, and waited for the action to begin. I'm always easy to penetrate – so much practice, thank you, Nick, thank you, Natt – and that helped him.

It seemed over all too quickly, but when we finally finished, we could hear the other campers going to and fro for their ablutions. I re-assured Eddie on the splendid job he had performed and congratulated him with "You realise you have now lost your front cherry as well as your back one, don't you? And all within a space of twelve hours. Not bad for a straightboy who's never done stuff before," and I sealed our act of union with a French kiss. We got dressed and walked over to the canteen for breakfast.

"So, Eddie," I asked on our way over to breakfast, "do you consider yourself a top or a bottom?"

"What do you mean?"

"We gayboys usually prefer to shag one way. If you penetrate, you're the top, but if you prefer to be penetrated, you're the bottom."

"What are you?"

"I'm what they call versatile. I like both."

"So how do you decide?"

"When I go boywatching…"

"Boywatching?"

"Yes, boywatching. It's like birdwatching or trainspotting. Nick, that's my brother Nick, and me, we sometimes go into town and sit in the Square and watch the boys that go by, or if we're on holiday at the seaside, we sit on the promenade and boywatch. It's better there because you see more boys in shorts while you don't see many in speedos in the Square. Anyway, we spot boys and give them a rating, and when I see one I fancy, I think 'Mmm, I wouldn't mind giving him one,' while on the other hand I might see another boy and think 'I'd like to feel him inside me.'"

"And what are these ratings?"

"A, B, C, D and E."

"Meaning?"

"A – I'd like to get him into bed, B – I wouldn't kick him out of bed, C – too young, but A potential, D – average, no opinion, and E – vomit, pass the bucket."

"And my rating?

"C'mon, Eddie. A++. I've been planning this ever since I saw you win in the School Boxing Championships."

"Oh. I'm quite flattered… I think."

"You haven't answered my question. Top or bottom? Or versatile?"

"I don't know. I'm not gay anyway and so I don't think I'm any of them."

"Would you do it again?" Eddie thought for a minute.

"I think if I were trapped in a tent with a cute hunk of a boy in a double sleeping bag…"

"Who you'd just wanked off in his sleep because you're straight and thought it was a girl and how strange it was that she's got a penis and testicles. Go on." Eddie blushed.

"… I might consider it." He gave me a coquettish grin. I'd been worried I might have frightened him off, but now I knew he was leading me up the garden path by my plonker, to mix metaphors.

When we joined the queue in the canteen to get our breakfast, the atmosphere was absolutely buzzing. "What's going on?" Eddie asked Hugh Daniels who was in front of him.

"Jamie Fisher was caught having a wank in the bog and now he won't come into breakfast because Charlie Ransom, who busted him, has gone round telling everybody and saying they've got to call him Master Bates."

"Charlie Ransom?" I said. "I didn't realise that the official Year 11 bully and homophobe even had a brother. This could mean trouble."

"Hugh, make sure they keep us some breakfast, and Jamie," said Eddie. "There's work to be done."

"Which tent is he in?"

"Sixteen."

Luckily the tents were still numbered. Approaching tent sixteen we heard some sobbing inside. Eddie unzipped the tent, stuck his head in and said "Hi, Jamie, can we come in?" He didn't say no and so Eddie crawled in and I sat just inside the flap. "Do you want to tell us what happened?" At first he remained silent, but then he rubbed his eyes dry with the back of his hands and told the story just as Hugh had. I joined in the conversation.

"Jamie, it's nothing to worry about. We all do it. We both had a wank this morning, didn't we, Eddie? And Charlie Ransom does it, too. Remember what they said in the PHSE lesson? Boys do it with their fist and girls use their fingers? You must have done that lesson." He sniffed and nodded. "Who are you tenting with?" Perhaps the wrong expression to use, but it made Jamie giggle slightly. He was on the mend.

"Tom Longhope."

"Okay," said Eddie. "We'll get him to bring you some breakfast and tell him to look after you. And tonight on the wide game make sure you're on our team and we shall look after you. In fact, I already have a cunning plan to make sure you're safe. Okay?"

"Okay," he sniffed. "Thank you, guys."

We went back to the canteen just in time to get our breakfast. We found Tom Longhope first and told him what we'd done and could he take some food across for Jamie. Mr Timmis came across to our table. "You lads are cutting it a bit fine. What have you been doing?" I took a leaf out of Nick's book and gave Mr Timmis the sweetest, tartiest Croker smile I could muster. I knew he wouldn't be able to resist. Even Ben knew about the power of Croker smiles, especially the Nick Croker version."

"Can we talk to you privately, sir?"

"I'll be in the camp office when you've finished your breakfast. The staff can do inspection."

"Could you ask them not to go to tent 16 for the moment, please, sir?" asked Eddie.

"Any particular reason?"

"That's what we want to talk to you about," Eddie replied.

After we'd finished our breakfast, we found Mr Timmis alone in the office. "Sit down, boys." I closed the door. "What's the problem?"

"We don't normally snitch," I started, "but we think this is important." Between us Eddie and I told the story and we dropped Charlie Ransom right in it.

"Thank you for letting me know. Fortunately I think Jamie Fisher is the sort of boy that'll get over it quickly, but some wouldn't. You'd better be quick or you'll miss the briefing for the treasure hunt."

After camp inspection we all gathered outside the admin block for the treasure hunt briefing. I was pleased to see Jamie was there under the close and watchful eye of Tom Longhope, and Ransom wasn't. He was waiting outside the office. Mr Timmis gave a talk about the day's programme and finished with a brief 'it has come to my attention that…' admonition, skilfully done so that it didn't embarrass Jamie.

The treasure hunt was the normal thing. We went out in pairs with our tent mates with a list of clues to get us round the course, questions (that could only be answered by doing the whole course) and things to collect. Now I understood why the guided tour was so important and the treasure hunt was also like a revision session for tonight's wide game. Eddie and me came fourth, let down by our time for the course, but then our minds were not exclusively on the treasure hunt. Eddie had other ideas and eventually so did I.

We were behind Ransom in the lunch queue. "How did you get on in the treasure hunt, Ransom?" Eddie asked.

"I didn't," he glared. "Timmis wouldn't let me take part."

"Why was that?" said Eddie in a most innocent tone of voice.

"You f**king well know why and if find out who the little shit was who squealed on me, he'd better watch out tonight."

"You know you're a marked man for tonight, don't you?"

"Who said that?"

"I did," said Eddie. "Something wrong with your hearing as well as with your common decency?" Ransom glared. "You'd better make sure you're on our team. You wouldn't like us as the enemy, would you now?" continued Eddie relentlessly psyching him out.

"I'm not scared of you, you skinny little runt. You might be good at boxing, but you can't box with a broken arm."

"Game on," said Eddie when Ransom had gone off to his table with his food.

Lunch had been set back an hour to help shorten the time until the wide game started. We had an hour's free time and then the debrief of the treasure hunt, followed by the briefing for the wide game. Eddie and I went for a walk in the woods to reconnoitre, not bad since we didn't know what we were doing yet. But we did. As we climbed over a stile leading out of the campsite I took hold of Eddie's hand to help him over and forgot to let go on the other side. Evidently he did too. I felt my dick chubbing up in my shorts. Luckily I was wearing a jockstrap. I'd better tonight, too, I thought. Suddenly Eddie stopped. "Ah, exactly what I need." He'd stopped by a young tree about twelve feet high, quite a thin trunk, but strong enough.

"Strong enough for what?"

"You'll see." Then he looked at my shorts and exclaimed "God, Simon Croker, can't you control yourself?"

"No, and neither can you, Edward Francis," I answered, slipping my hand up his thigh and into his shorts.

"Well, I suppose we'd better do something about it," he said in his typical Eddie-type pragmatic way.

"Let's smooch a bit while we decide." I pushed him against the selected tree, put my arms round him and the slender trunk and moved in on him.

"That was one of the best quickies I've ever had," I said as we pulled our shorts up. It was only a wank. We serviced one another and both came off. It released the tension. (Did I mention that Eddie is definitely a grower and a shooter? Well, he is.)

"We'd better get back," said Eddie. We've already been questioned once for being late today."

After getting the answers and results for the treasure hunt with the team that came first winning vouchers for the sports shop in town, we were divided into two teams for the wide game. Being tent mates Eddie and I were automatically on the same side, but so too were Jamie Fisher and Charlie Ransom. Nice one. We picked a captain, not us as we had other plans. (No, not that. Get your minds out of the gutter.) Mr Timmis gave us the scenario, the objectives (basically a defended area into which the attackers had to place a rather large and heavy 'bomb') with start time 21.00 hrs, when it would finally be dark, and a finish time of 23.59 hrs, should it go on that long. The defenders were to start out first as they had to recce for a base, although there was nothing to stop them doing that in the daylight. The woods, which formed the bounds, were just the right size to give the defenders a good chance of finding somewhere to defend and the attackers a fair chance of finding it and completing the mission without its being too easy. It was a tried and tested formula Mr Timmis had used on other camps he'd organised here.

We had a late tea which left us an hour to get ready while the sun was setting. In our tent Eddie took charge. "Okay, Simon, this is what we'll do. Long trousers, preferably wear as much black as possible, including trainers." He pulled a black bag out of his rucksack. It looked like a large old-fashioned shoe bag with its drawstring.

"What have you got in there?"

"Supplies," he answered.

"What? Condoms and lube? We won't have time that!"

"No, you dork. You've got a one track mind." He pulled out various articles and held them up. "Black balaclava, duct tape – general purpose, Mini Maglite, handcuffs."

"Where did you get them from?"

"Don't forget my father's a police officer. One plastic bag full of sand."

"What's that for?"

"Watch." Eddie poured some water into the plastic bag until the sand was just damp all the way through, he knotted it like a Titan's condom and stuffed it into an old rugby sock and knotted that. "One cosh."

"You're evil."

"Just ask Ransom that at the end of the night. One blindfold."

"Where did that come from?"

"Been in my toy box for yonks. Blind man's buff, pin the tail on the donkey? Oh, and let me have a couple of rubbers in case we need a water carrier. Swiss navy knife, very sharp with scissors."

"Shouldn't that be Swiss army knife?"

"Please yourself. Ear defenders. Rubber gloves."

"You've done this sort of thing before."

"My lips are sealed. Fifth amendment."

"What's that?"

"American constitution. I don't have to answer the question in case I incriminate myself. We'd better get out to the captain's briefing." He put on the balaclava helmet. We were defenders.

Our captain had divided us into four groups. Eddie had to let him in on our secret plan and the consequences. He probably knew more than I did. At the end Eddie whispered to me "You're okay with what you have to do? Leave the rest to me."

At nine o'clock we were released ahead of the attackers to do what we had to do. Our sub-group fortuitously, hem, hem, consisted of Ransom and Jamie in addition to us. I don't think either was happy about it, but Jamie trusted Eddie, and me, I suppose. Eddie took charge, leading us along a now familiar path I knew led to his tree. Eddie and Ransom were in front, Jamie and me a yard behind. We were just gaining our night vision. We reached the slender tree. Jamie looked over his shoulder and nodded. We each grabbed one of Ransom's arms, dragged him back against the tree and Eddie had the cuffs on him in a trice. He must have been practising by the speed he completed the movement. Although Ransom was cuffed with his arms behind his back and around the tree, he was far from immobile, but he wasn't going to go far. A string of invective, f-ing and blinding, issued from his foul mouth. "You can pack that in for a start," said Eddie, his voice muffled and unrecognisable from within the balaclava.

"Make me, shit for brains."

"Keep him still a moment, lads." Eddie felt in Ransom's trouser pockets. He yelled as Eddie squeezed his balls, then he produced a handkerchief. "Open your mouth."

"F**k off!" and he gritted his teeth. Eddie pinched his nose, Ransom's mouth opened up so that he could breathe and he had the handkerchief shoved into it and a strip of duct tape stuck across his lips. Eddie took the blindfold out of his shoe bag and tied it round Ransom's head and finished off by placing the ear defenders over it.

"Okay you can let him go. If he kicks out, he'll only fall down and won't be able to get up again without help. Your turn now, Si." I took the big roll of duct tape, pulled a long strip, put it round Ransom's waist, pushed him against the tree and taped him fast. Then I did the same with his ankles. He was completely stuck now, immobile. Now the part of the plan I was looking forward to. I unbuttoned the waist of his jeans and unzipped the fly, pulled them down over his butt, then pulled his boxers down as far as I could over his butt and tackle. He tried to struggle, but couldn't do anything against the strength of the duct tape. I pulled his jeans up, buttoned them again at the waist, leaving the flies open, then put on a pair of rubber gloves from Eddie's shoe bag. I put my hand into his jeans and hauled out his dick and his bollocks so that they were there, visible, tangible even, waving in the wind as it were. Ransom tried to protest and struggle, but in vain. I gave his balls a squeeze to remind him he was no longer the boss, then went to work on his dick. It would have to be a handjob. No way did I fancy taking his cock into my mouth. He hardened up amazing quickly. I worked his foreskin back and forth. It was a funny feeling doing it with latex gloves on. When I judged he was getting near, I went round to the back of the tree to finish him off so as not to get splashed by his issue. Great, he was a dribbler and as I milked him, I made sure all his spunk landed on his clothes. When he'd finished, I took some on my fingers and smeared it on his cheeks and forehead and under his chin. Jamie stood there in utter amazement, partly at the fact such a thing could happen at all, and partly because two boys had chosen to avenge his humiliation earlier that day.

"Now, Jamie, you know what to do. Climb up into that tree. Look after him and make sure he can breathe. Just rip the tape off his mouth as hard as you can and pull the handkerchief out, if he can't. And enjoy the reactions of those who see him. At that Eddie and I left Ransom, still with his prick and balls hanging out.

I must admit that at the initial briefing I thought the defenders were on a hiding to nothing, but we got one over on the attackers by moving our headquarters so that once the enemy's scouts had discovered it, it had gone by the time the troops arrived. Also the 'bomb' was big and heavy, turning out to be a medicine ball in a cardboard box.

We had a little bit of entertainment. We were looking for attackers when I stopped and held Eddie back. I pointed down a slope and there in a partly hidden hollow two bodies could be seen lying on the ground, one with trousers down and being wanked off by the other whom he was trying to kiss. We sat there in silence and watched. I stroked the inside of Eddie's thigh, it was making me so horny. Finally one of them gave a stifled cry and shot his seed. While they were cleaning up, we silently slid down the slope and ended up beside them. They nearly jumped out of their skin. "Tom Longhope and Jerry Morrison," I said. "I didn't know you were gay."

"You won't tell anybody, will you?" said Tom. "We're trying to keep it a secret, but it's very difficult."

"I shan't breathe a word, but welcome to the school's gay community."

"Who's that?" said Jerry, pointing at Eddie.

"The Masked Gayhunter. He hasn't got any other name. So you like cock?" I said.

"And butt," said Jerry, recovering his composure.

"Come with us." They pulled up their sweats and followed. We walked for about half a mile. I pointed out the path we'd reached. "Walk up there for about a hundred metres, keeping a look out on the right." At that we disappeared back into the woods. Eddie spoke again, but he didn't want to give away his identity to third parties.

We could hear whoops of delight as they discovered Ransom minor. It was like a scene from Disney when a whole lot of birds and woodland animals instantaneously appear out of the woods after the defeat of the big bad wolf. The wide game was in disarray. But after five minutes the teams regrouped. Eddie looked at his watch. Nearing eleven. Another hour to go. "Come on, Si. We've got to rescue a damson in distress."

We neared the slender tree. "Okay, Si, be ready for anything, though I think he'll be too demoralised to lose his temper and I don't think he'll make much of a fuss." We reached the sorry creature bound to the tree. He was just as we'd left him, except for one thing. The mosquitoes had had an absolute banquet on his scrotum.

"That'll make him scratch for a few days," I said to Eddie. Obviously no one had touched him. We whispered to Jamie to stay put and keep quiet.

Eddie set to work. He ripped the duct tape off Ransom's mouth. He tried to yell though the wet handkerchief stuffed in his mouth. He took the ear defenders off, then pulled the wet handkerchief out of his mouth. "Ransom, before you start mouthing off, think. You are not free until the cuffs come off, which they won't until we're convinced you've learnt your lesson." He cut the tape binding his legs, then the tape binding his body to the tree. "Ransom, are you in listening mode?" He nodded, even though the power of speech had returned, but he was afraid he might say the wrong thing. "First rule. What happens at camp, stays at camp. Agreed?" Ransom nodded. "Remember, if you breathe a word at school about Jamie or Master Bates, the pictures we've taken of you tied to this tree go viral. You've got Facebook, haven't you? So understood?" He nodded. "Any bullying or swearing or telling tales, the pictures go viral. Repeat." He nodded.

"Any bullying or swearing or telling tales, the pictures go viral."

"Promise?" He nodded. "Say it."

"I promise." Eddie took the blindfold off. Ransom blinked.

"When I take the cuffs off, you go back to camp, do what you have to and make sure you appear at roll call. Keep still while I take the cuffs off." Ransom rubbed his wrists, violently scratched his balls, went and had a pee, re-arranged his boxers and jeans and stowed his tackle away, then slouched off.

We waited five minutes and Eddie said "It's okay, Jamie. You can come down now." He dropped from the tree he'd been using as an OP and hugged Eddie and me.

"The day started badly, but it got better," I grinned.

"Okay," said Eddie "we've got a wide game to win and we're one man down."

"You didn't take any pictures, did you, Eddie?"

"That's right, but don't forget Ransom was blindfolded and had ear defenders on. So he's not to know that." The three of us burst out laughing.

Ten minutes later we heard the whistle blow. End of the game. The attackers had planted their bomb, back to camp. Once everyone was accounted for, we had some hot soup and bread rolls, then made our way to bed. The last night at camp is usually the one for hi-jinx, but the Timmis plan had worked. Eddie and I crawled into my sleeping bag. As we lay there naked, I said "Eddie, your sleeping bag should be dry by now, shouldn't it?'

"Yes, should be, but I checked it earlier and it's still a bit damp." We fell asleep on those words. Last night together and no sex. I was ashamed of myself.

Monday morning. Sunrise, morning wood on a full bladder, and horniness woke us early again. Naked we made our way towards the ablutions block. "Last chance, Si. Are up for it?"

"What? A shag. I should say so."

"Who's topping? I'll toss you for it."

"You jolly well will not, Eddie. You'll flip a coin like anyone else." He pushed me and giggled. "I've got a better idea. If we wear jockstraps while bottoming, I reckon we could top as well, providing no one hits the P-spot."

"P-spot?" enquired Eddie.

"I'll talk to you about that later. We'd better get a move on. We don't want to be late for breakfast again even if it is the last day."

We did everything we needed to do in double quick time. Clean, or cleansed, we returned to the tent, were about to put our jocks on, when I said "Hold on a minute. Swapsies."

"Wot?"

"Swapsies. You wear mine and I'll wear yours. It's like a fetish and it will make us feel hornier. It's like exchanging seed, but we can't do that with rubbers." Eddie was nonplussed. I was waiting for him to say 'yeuk', but he acquiesced and we did it. After a brief snog just to get us going, I slipped my jock off Eddie and let him mount me. After a little rest he put my jock back on, I stripped his off and I did him. We lay there in each other's arms. Shall I, shan't I, I thought. It might gross him out. It's the last day. I'll risk it. I took the black condom Eddie had been using and poured the contents into my mouth. He just lay there and stared. They were cold, unlike the fresh stuff you get from a bj. "Come here," I tried to say. I took him in my arms and French-kissed him. "Now you've got to do the same with mine." He took the white one I had used and after draining the residue, he took me in a deep throated kiss. It didn't surprise me. To anyone who could so ruthlessly and clinically do what he had done to Ransom the previous night, this would be a piece of piss. Hmm, not quite the right choice of words.

We got up and dressed, wearing each other's jocks for the rest of the day. We'd worry about returning them after we got home. I could feel the power of Eddie's loins surging into mine. We surprised Mr Timmis by being the first into breakfast and I charmed him with a Croker smile. "Fantastic camp, sir," I said. "Thank you very much for organising it."

"Wicked," added Eddie. "I'm so glad I could come. I've learnt such a lot this weekend."

"And so have I," I added.

"It's interesting what you learn, especially about people when they're outside school. Isn't it, Francis?" said Mr Timmis

"Yes, that's true, sir. I've learnt a lot about my schoolmates this weekend." He gave a weak smile and blushed deeply. We went and sat down with our bowls of cereal "You know, Simon, he really has busted us."

"No, Eddie. He's busted you. He already knew all about me, and my brother, and we know a lot about him because we know his fiancé outside school."

"Is she good looking?"

"No, but he is and they're going to have one of these new gay marriages after Mr Timmis leaves at the end of term."

We got on with our cereal. The canteen was beginning to fill up with blurry eyed boys, including a rather downcast Charlie Ransom who for some reason just could not stop scratching his balls.

The morning went quickly: taking down the tents and loading them onto the trailer, packing our kit and stacking it by the car park ready to be loaded into the coach, playing games, touch rugby and softball, and suddenly it was time for lunch. After lunch the coach arrived to take us back to school where Mr Timmis was waiting for us. We said our goodbyes and thank yous and, weary, were taken home by our waiting parents.

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