Nathan B...'s Schooldays

by N Fourbois

Year 7

This tale is in so many ways autobiographical, but it is also a work of fiction. As so many characters existed in real life, their surnames have been reduced to initials with an ellipsis to protect the guilty. It takes place not that long ago, but is definitely pre-PC.

Nathan B... was looking forward to going to his new school, but he couldn't deny a little apprehension after his father had lectured him about the way you behaved 'now you're at the grammar school'.

"Nathan, whatever you do, you don't cry and you don't tell tales or split on anyone, unless of course it's really serious, like a police matter. You'll start there at the bottom of the heap and you may find the older boys are not slow in reminding you of that fact." Today that would be considered a bullies' charter, but times have changed.

Eventually the first day of term dawned. It was mid-September and Nathan had celebrated his twelfth birthday a week or so previously which meant that he would be one of the oldest in his year. He was wearing his new school uniform proudly. The fourteen mile journey to school was in three parts. He had just alighted from the bus and walked onto the railway station, clutching his brand new season ticket tightly. After a twenty minute train ride there came a fifteen minute walk to school. He was pleased he was going to an all boys school. No girls - they had always seemed an irrelevance, particularly since the age of seven when he had been bullied by them. He was also looking forward to the harder work. After four years at an urban school he had been forced to go to a smaller village school when his parents moved. Life moved at a slower pace, he found himself well ahead in his work and frankly was stupefyingly bored having scarcely any intellectual challenge.

The first person he met in a spanking new uniform was Ian C... and although they were to become great mates in years to come they did not quite hit it off at first sight. Ian had friends in Year 8 and made it quite clear he was going to travel with them. Nathan felt rebuffed and wondered what sort of people he would be meeting at his new school. He survived the first day, unscathed to his own amazement, and had recovered from a surprise session of exams which would determine which classes he would be assigned to. He had met a whole set of new people, day boys and boarders, which he found bewildering. You see, he was an only child and despite people telling him how lucky he was, he had never experienced that family rough and tumble or the place in the pecking order, he had never had the brothers or sisters to teach him his place in society or to look out for him when he was in trouble and despite six years of school and getting on with most people he had never made a 'best friend'. He could hold his own because he had a good brain rather than a strong body. Indeed, up to the age of ten he had regularly been picked on, partly because he was not belligerent by nature, until one day he had simply taken too much gip and he thoroughly thumped one of his tormentors back. After that he was by and large left in peace.

So the next day it was largely with a feeling of equanimity that he left home for the fifty minute bus and train journey followed by the walk to school. He had found some travelling companions. There was some feeling of security about being part of a group and once at school they were plunged into the excitement of finding which forms they were in. Nathan had obviously been successful against the unknown competition for he had been allocated to the top streams for everything and he started to familiarise himself with the faces and names he would be working alongside for the next seven years. He and his classmates met their form master and they were sat round their classroom in strict alphabetical order of surnames. He was sandwiched between Tony B... and Michael B... and destined ever to be so whenever they were taught in their own classroom. Timetables, books and stationery were issued, admin completed by morning break. After that it was the real thing - lessons.

Eventually Friday arrived. The significance of that was not that it was the end of the week - it was not for they had Saturday morning school compensated for by longer holidays than the Monday to Friday schools - but that it was their first games lessons, rugby, whereas up to now he had only played soccer in winter. Again Nathan's father had given him advice from his own generation.

"Nathan, remember you will have to change with the other boys and have a shower. There's no need to be shy. You're all boys together and the same." Nathan had no reason to think otherwise. "And one other important thing. You do not wear anything under your shorts," a piece of advice he took to heart and which was backed up by the games master in his initial brief and also something which Nathan was in later years to come to reject on grounds of hygiene, personal health and safety, warmth, comfort and decency, but he still had some months of a shrivelled dick and balls tight inside his body and nothing to show in the showers to come, at least during the winter months. And that first day was to become for him a moment of revelation.

The rugby session did little to impress him. Nathan was not by nature a sportsman. He would join in and do his best although that might not be all that good and he became discouraged. But the calibre of the rugby teaching was beyond him. A few boys in his year had played before. With thirty in a class they divided nicely, numerically at least, into two teams and they were expected to get on with it - no instruction in skills, little mention of the laws of the game until they were infringed. Because he was relatively tall for his year he was assigned to the position of lock (second row) and there he was destined to stay for several years even though his classmates overtook him in height. Seven years of rugby were to leave him little wiser about the game than on that first day in Year 7 and he grew to detest games and PE, not to be converted until after he had left university years later, too late for his own good, but as well as having for him an ulterior motive, which will also become clear later in the story, this was to benefit of many of his own pupils in later life. It had, however, always been a source of personal pride that however much he disliked school sport as a boy he had only ever been 'off-games' for two sessions in seven years.

After the session the class was dismissed to its first communal shower. Nathan went into the changing room, dick shrivelled to a stump, an empty scrotal sac whose balls owing to underdeveloped circulation were taking refuge in the warmth of his lower body, to get changed and cleaned up. He was changing next to Richard A.... Innocently Nathan turned and looked and what did he behold? Something he had never seen before in his life or even dreamt of. Richard was well developed for his age of eleven, well endowed for an eighteen year old, a thirty year old even. His whole groin was covered in a Father Christmas beard of black pubic hair out of which grew the most incredibly large cock with balls to match. Nathan drew in an involuntary breath and hoped Richard hadn't noticed. In his ears echoed the hollow words of his father 'You're all boys together and the same.' 'We certainly aren't the same,' Nathan thought and although he didn't realise it just at the time on that first school Friday in the September of his first year at grammar school there was born within him what was to become a lifelong interest in what boys had between their legs and a misguided idea of what he believed to be his own inadequacy.

* * *

Nathan went home that night and to his dismay when his mother unpacked his dirty sports kit she found one rugby sock missing. His father immediately sent him back to school, all fourteen miles there and fourteen miles back, to search for it, something which naturally turned out to be a wild goose chase. He returned home empty handed to be greeted with the pronouncement that he would have the cost of replacement deducted from his pocket money. However, the lone journey gave him time to think and there was only one thought in his head, the picture in his mind's eye of Richard A...'s groin. 'I wonder if any of the other boys are built like that,' he thought to himself and could not wait until the PE lesson the following week to find out. A search round the school for the sock on Saturday proved equally futile.

During morning break he was queuing outside the Pound where the lost property was kept, or impounded, when an older boy, school list in hand, bounded up to him. He estimated the boy to be in Year 9 from his size. Year 10 had nothing to do with 'newbugs'.

"Are you Jonathan B...?" Of course, in the school list he was shown as Jonathan. That was the name he'd been christened with and which appeared on his birth certificate, but he had always been called either Nathan, or simply Natt. He would never have answered to Jonathan or Jon.

"I'm called Nathan, short for Jo - nathan," he replied in a friendly tone, but before he had finished his sentence the older boy asked

"Have you been wanked off yet?" Nathan looked nonplussed. He knew that 'wanking' had something to do with what boys did with their dicks, but he'd never done it, never felt any need to do it, let alone have this mysterious action administered by anybody else.

"I don't think so," he replied politely, trying to maintain his equilibrium.

"All newbugs have to be wanked off," said the older boy. "It's part of your initiation," and he pencilled a note in his school list before going away. Suddenly Nathan was at the head of the queue and the disappointment at not finding his rugby sock precluded him from thinking any more about the previous incident.

During a changeover in lessons he was telling Dick S... about what had happened at break. Dick had an elder brother in the school and so was one of the best people to ask about such things.

"I shouldn't worry about it, Natt. It's something the boarders do. It's rubbing their pricks until spunk comes out."

"What's spunk?" asked Nathan naïvely. He'd heard the word before, but it hadn't really impinged on his memory.

"It's white stuff. It comes out of your prick and makes babies inside women. Don't you know anything?"

"Well, not about that sort of thing. It's not the sort of thing your parents talk about over Sunday lunch or tell you, so I can only find out at school."

"Haven't you got any brothers or friends at home?"

"Not really. No brothers or sisters and there aren't any kids my age in our road. They're all either too old or too young to want to play with me." They then got on and quizzed each other for the Latin vocab test that lesson.

The term moved on with early autumn turning into late autumn. The early mornings were much darker and eventually Nathan went off to school on the first frosty day of the winter and his body, dogged as it was by poor circulation, reacted in the expected fashion, especially between his legs. When the train arrived it was one of those with coaches without a corridor. 'Horseboxes' they were known as in school slang. Later in his school career he would discover that they could mean a lot of fun as you could get up to all sorts of tricks without being spotted by the general public. Nathan got into an empty compartment and settled down to revise his history notes for a test later that day. At the next station four Year 9 boys piled in. The train set off. It was over a quarter of an hour until the next stop.

"You're Nathan B..., aren't you?" Nathan froze metaphorically as well as being frozen literally when he recognised Michael S..., the Year 9 boy with the school list from earlier in the term. Before he could answer the other three had taken away his history book and had him spread-eagled along the bench seat of the compartment. They weren't rough; they didn't have to be because they had surprised him. It was just that they were pinning down his arms and his legs. It was no use fighting, he thought. He was outnumbered. He tried to plan some sort of resistance, but the 'wise' words of his father just went through his mind.

"Nathan, whatever you do, you don't cry and you don't tell tales or split on anyone, unless of course it's really serious, like a police matter. You'll start there at the bottom of the heap and you may find the older boys are not slow in reminding you of that fact." The 'leader' of the gang unbuckled Nathan's belt, undid the top of his trousers and unzipped the fly. He opened the slit of his boxer shorts to reveal the visible remains of his genitals, an empty and shrivelled scrotal sac where his balls had disappeared up into his body and an inch long stub where the innards of his cock had likewise retreated leaving an empty foreskin. The 'leader' manipulated his foreskin, despite Nathan's vain wriggling, and exposed an inadequate glans.

"I suppose you are a boy?" he enquired with a sneer. Nathan just looked at him with contempt, though he felt utterly humiliated. The train began to slow. In a minute they would arrive at their station. The other boys released him. It was no use for Nathan to fight back. He would only come off worst. He quickly did up his trousers, forgetting to tuck his shirt in and grabbed back his history book. As the train stopped the four Year 9 boys piled out of the door, their 'leader' last. As they did, Nathan managed to stick his foot out. The 'leader' tripped and fell headlong onto the platform.

"You'll pay for that, B...," he shouted back as he picked himself up and tried to brush the dirt off.

"I already have," retorted Nathan defiantly as he made sure he had all his belongings. The guard was blowing his whistle impatiently. Nathan disappeared quickly into the station toilets, locked the cubicle door behind him, sat on the seat and despite his father's 'wise' words burst into sobs. Eventually he felt better and capable of making his way to school, although he really felt like crossing to the opposite platform and catching the first train home. He pulled himself together, tidied himself up and filled with hatred and defiance left the station and walked towards school. Whatever happened he would be late and would have to explain that away when he got there. Needless to say, he didn't do very well in the history test, either.

Once he had recovered Nathan realised that he needed some common sense about the incident. He talked to Ian C... about it and asked if he could travel with him and the Year 8 boys on the train. Once accepted into the group, at first on sufferance, he enjoyed the protection given by solidarity. He soon got to know the various groups who travelled by train, where they got off, which years they were in. On Tuesday and Wednesdays school finished at different times according to age and activities, so eventually after the first term there was some cross-pollination between them.

The Autumn term came to its inevitable end, the Christmas holidays passed and Nathan returned for the Spring term. The good news was that in the Friday morning games lessons he no longer had to freeze on the rugby pitch. The rugby term was over until September. The bad news was that this was the cross-country term. He had never run cross-country before. He didn't really know what it was. The class was told to change into singlet, shorts and trainers - no socks. They sat in the comparatively warm gym to be shown a map of the course by the games master. It was circular, covered road-running, a farm track, ploughed fields and a ravine, then passed by a millrace, some more road-running and back through the school fields to the gym. It was supposed to be just over three miles, but Nathan had his doubts. They were set off and Mr Bridgeman, the games master, dressed in his black Loughborough blazer and grey flannels, retired to his warm office in the gym. The first setback was the frosty weather while patches of snow remained on the country parts of the route from an incomplete thaw. No instructions or coaching had been given and so when a stitch set in within the first mile Nathan's immediate reaction was to stop with the consequence he was left behind and had to guess the route. The record for the course was some twenty odd minutes and in theory it could be walked in three-quarters of an hour. It was only in later life that he learnt such things as running through a stitch and with eventual fitness not getting one, and that with perseverance you got second wind which made breathing that much easier. Although never good or fast at it, Nathan despite everything grew in time to like cross-country as Winston grew to love Big Brother in Orwell's Nineteen Eighty Four. It was never a competition against his fellow runners, nor even a battle against the course, but a fight with himself to do the best he could.

Eventually on that first occasion Nathan made his return to school, soaked and freezing, spattered with mud and utterly fed up, halfway through morning break. There were still boys in the showers, but the water had begun to run cold and right in the centre of the shower room opposite the door was Richard A... in full display with his Father Christmas beard and more than adequate equipment. Nathan felt completely demoralised, particularly as the frosty weather had taken its toll on his nether regions. Even the lukewarm water did nothing to alleviate that. Later in the day he pulled himself together enough to gain top marks in the French test.

He found that the grammar school experience was changing him. While the work was rarely beyond him, it didn't come easy and he enjoyed the intellectual challenge of the extra efforts he made to overcome any difficulties. The sporting activities he was put through were having a beneficial effect on his body. He was growing, but not particularly fast. However, there was one department in particular that he did notice a difference and there was no one he could talk to about it either, he was so embarrassed: his dick kept getting stiff. He hadn't come across the word erection yet. It happened whenever he travelled on a bus or train, it happened in every classroom lesson, but never at the beginning or in the middle, but only at the end when he had to get up and walk to the next lesson. He was sure the other boys noticed. He even had to get his mother to buy him briefs to replace his boxer shorts.

"Mum, boxers are out. All the other boys wear briefs." They didn't stop the phenomenon, they just controlled it better. He started to look at other boys to see if it was happening to them. He was interested, genuinely interest, but it only ran parallel to his interest in checking other boys out in the changing rooms and the showers, and he noticed that some boys had bulges in their trousers and some didn't. Then those with big bulges gave him a funny feeling inside, a feeling he liked.

That term a craze ran through the junior elements of the school, as crazes do, until the Headmaster stood up in assembly and put a stop to it, and that was thumping other boys in the balls. Nathan didn't really take part in it. It hurt and he was no martyr to unnecessary pain. A consequence of this craze was to see younger boys wandering round the school in breaks with their hands covering their crotches like professional soccer players defending a free kick. However, one lunchtime he gave in to temptation and joined in. He didn't want to hurt anyone, just give them a surprise and keep them on their toes. The lunch queue in the corridor was pressed against the wall and he was standing in front of Philip E.... Nathan stretched out his hand and moved it up between Phil's legs. He clearly felt Philip's balls jiggle around in his trousers as he did, and furthermore he enjoyed what he felt. Not only that, Phil made no protest whatsoever.

In the summer term things seemed to be more relaxed at school. The Year 7 boys were no longer newbugs and had been accepted as part of school society. As if the work was not enough, there was plenty to learn on the social front and here social was a code word for sexual. One or two incidents were significant and made a deep impression on Nathan.

One morning in May, one of those glorious mornings when the sun shone warm and was set to shine for the rest of the day, he and Ian C... were greeted by one or two animated members of their own year.

"There's spunk all over the floor in one of the bogs," shouted Peter N...."

"Come on, we'll show you," added Hugh D.... In the school there was one set of toilets within the main buildings and another in a separate building towards the pavilion. There was already a crowd of excited small boys in the 'outdoor' one swarming round a cubicle and after what he had been told and still had no experience of, Nathan's excitement and curiosity were as great as anybody's. Finally he could make his way through the throng and there it was, several blobs of thick white stuff on the concrete floor in front of the lavatory pan.

"One of the boarders went for a wank, let it splash everywhere and didn't bother to clear it up," remarked one high pitched voice marking the sectarianism which could at times exist between the two parts of the community, for despite the circumstantial evidence of its being a boarder so early in the morning, there could be no absolute proof until a DNA test had been taken and the perpetrator discovered. The scene of the crime, the delict itself, occupied a remote corner of Nathan's mind to be recalled frequently over the coming months.

The following week another incident was to fill a gap in his education. He was walking through the changing room door in the gym when someone thrust a soft article of clothing over his head. He didn't know what, but it covered his face so that he couldn't see. It stank of sweat and something else. Again, what the something else was, he had no idea. Nathan lingered before pulling off the offending item. Meanwhile his classmates were standing round chortling with laughter at the misfortune which they had caused him. He snatch the thing from his head. It was obviously an undergarment, but resembled nothing he had ever seen before.

"What's this?" he cried.

"A jockstrap. Haven't you seen one of those before?" answered Simon D..., known as Sid because he had once been foolish enough to express an opinion that he thought Sid was a rather common name. Nathan looked at it, working out what you did with it and as he did, he felt one of those unwanted stiffies come on. He was fascinated by it until Nick P... shouted out

"Hey, Natt, have you got some kind of jock fetish?" which brought him back into the real world and he waited hidden behind the door until the next victim came along. As he got changed alongside Ian C..., Nathan whispered to him

"What's a jockstrap for?" As he listened to the answer he could feel his dick stiffening up again. How could he disguise that in his shorts? But it at least gave him a gave practical lesson in one of the reasons for wearing a jockstrap.

A couple of weeks later another incident furthered Nathan's education in the mysterious arts of masturbation. He was leaving lunch and chatting to Pete L....

"Natt, are you going to come and watch Rod A...?"

"Who on earth is Rod A...?" They were both heading out onto the school playing fields where they had to spend their breaks unless it was raining or the weather was particularly harsh.

"He's my cousin and he's in Year 9. He's going to make an attempt on the school wanking record - distance, not time." Various groups of boys could be seen walking towards the fives court. The fives court was a concrete area about the size of half a tennis court, enclosed with high walls, but open to the elements and built onto the side of the swimming pool. No one ever played fives these days and it was used to practise tennis shots or play a game which partially resembled squash, but using tennis racquets and a tennis ball. It was ideal for what was about to happen for it had a very small entrance hidden from the main school area which made it easy to guard and obstruct should a prefect or the duty master come along and with the system of guards keeping cave (Latin word) for this occasion all signs of nefarious activity could be made to vanish long before the arrival of any authority and the only thing to be explained away would be why there were so many boys hanging around. The fives court was the scene of many an underground activity including grudge fights, romantic trysts and seductions among the boy population or special clandestine events such as today's.

Pete and Nathan squeezed past the 'guards' at the small entrance.

"It's all right," said Pete. "He's with me." Year 7 boys weren't really expected to attend these gladiatorial events, but Pete was family. "Hi, Rod."

"Hi, Pete."

"Good luck, mate." Pete took Nathan over to stand by his elder brother, Rob. Year 11 boys weren't supposed to be there, either, but again he was family and he pulled rank. The spectacle was about to begin. Someone had drawn a chalk line on the ground and people made sure they kept behind it. Rod A... was there 'warming up'. What that meant was that he was playing pocket billiards. There was a spontaneous hush, a remarkable act of self-discipline among the boys, for they knew that too much noise would attract the wrong kind of interest and the event would have to be postponed, or even cancelled altogether. Rod had taken off his jacket and tie which were being held by his 'second'. Without the slightest embarrassment he had his hands in his pockets stroking his genitals until he felt he was ready when he unzipped his trousers, dropped them and his underpants and let his erection gain its full length. Nathan drew in a sudden breath when he saw what Rod had between his legs and if he hadn't been so interested in the main event he could have looked around and seen quite a number of other boys with their hands in their pockets 'warming up'. His eyes were glued on Rod as he stroked his shaft, massaging his foreskin back and forth over the glans which was unusually pointed rather than round in shape. Rod was concentrating hard. For him none of the crowd existed at that moment. His breathing grew laboured as he inhaled deeper and deeper breaths. He quickly checked that his feet were behind the chalk line to avoid a 'no jump', worked away with his right hand while his left stroked his balls, aimed his dick at the optimum angle and with an audible gasp shot his load. Applause and an almighty cheer went up from the supporting crowd while boy appointed field judge, at great risk to himself of getting showered by the aftermath ran and put a chalk mark where the farthest wad had landed. Once his orgasm had finally subsided Rod punched the air and ackno wledged the crowd. With his trousers round his ankles he could hardly do a lap of honour. His dick quickly softened and he hauled up his undies and his trousers, speedily sliding up the zip and buckling his belt. He stepped back from the start line to be cheered and hugged and backslapped by his admiring supporters. The 'field judge' pulled a steel rule out of his jacket pocket and with the help of two friends, one to hold the rule down, the other to verify the measurement, extended the rule to the second chalk mark. Rod's spunk had started to soak into the concrete leaving just a damp patch. The field judge wrote something in the back of his school list and handed it to his friend to make the announcement.

"Gentlemen," he called out in a self-important manner, his chest puffed out, and the cheering subsided to a hush. "The official result is seven feet six and a half inches or 229·9 centimetres..." An immediate cheer rose which must have resounded round the school fields. "And I declare this to be a new school record by seven inches." Another cheer went up, Rod raised his hands in the air, high-fived his companions standing close to him and then at last proceeded on his lap of victory round the fives court. No one noticed a small group slink silently away. They were the previous record holder and his mates, all boarders who firmly believed that such contests were the prerogative of the boarding community. The crowd dispersed peacefully and just as the last group was emerging from the fives court the master on duty appeared summoned by the cheers. Peering round the entrance he found the court empty, no blood, shrugged his shoulders and went off to be duty master elsewhere.

Nathan could not get out of his head what he had witnessed that lunchtime and seemed to himself to be going around with a permanent erection. Thank goodness it was a short afternoon. That night he lay in bed doing what he had seen Rod A... doing, but nothing happened for him.

Now that he was settled in, Nathan was happy at school. The previous term he had given one of his tormentors a slap in front of his friends and now he appeared strangely free of the irksome little bouts of bullying he had previously been subjected to. His enjoyment could be judged by the speed with which the summer term appeared to pass. His group of friends spent lunch breaks practising cricket and he seemed to get on better with that than he had done with rugby, although nowhere near school team standard. The really warm days of summer came. PE lessons changed from athletics to swimming and here he really did have an ulterior motive for enjoying the lessons. It was part of the school clothing regulations that only speedo pattern bathers were to be worn which renewed his interest in the youthful human male form. As said, his happiness meant that the term flew past with school exams at the end of June and the beginning of July. Nathan had the satisfaction of learning that in them he had become top of Year 7 and so had made his mark academically, even though he might not have done in other things. Once they were over and the papers handed back, the school went into relaxed mode, gearing up for end of term events such as the swimming gala, sports day and house cricket matches where even he made it to the house junior 2nd XI.

One of the arrangements he came to adore was the mass athletics training and heats. The whole school would change into athletic kits and go out for a long afternoon on the games fields; every able-bodied member of staff was recruited to run, teach, officiate as best they could and at the end of the afternoon there would be a roll call in case some unscrupulous individuals had sloped off home. For Nathan the interest in athletics was clearly subordinate to admiring the physiques of other boys in their athletics kit, especially the older ones whom otherwise he never saw under normal circumstances. One particular extrovert and show-off was Rod A..., still the unchallenged record holder in his own particular athletic event. His father too had obviously told him

"And one other important thing. You do not wear anything under your shorts," for to make his white uniform cotton shorts tighter he had rolled up the legs, not simply to prevent himself from freeballing, but to make it so that there clearly stood out from the bulge of his balls the long thin outline of his dick and as noted before the head was oval and thin, rather than round, and could easily have given rise to the expression of the 'one-eyed trouser snake'.

However, this was a minor matter compared with what was destined happen on one of those athletics afternoons. He was in a group comprising just of boys from his house. He simply could not keep his eyes off one particularly hot hunk. Being the obsessive compulsive he was, Nathan had subconsciously set himself the task of learning by sight and by name every boy in the school and by dint of this he had gained an encyclopædic knowledge of the school list. When Michael R...'s name was called out for him to practise the event Nathan followed every move of this Adonis. Not only did he have tousled blond hair and blue eyes, but his white sports kit embraced every part of his well honed body, his singlet hugging his pecs with the nipples showing through, but more importantly in his shorts nestled a packet even larger than Richard A...'s and try as he might Nathan could not stop staring at it, unconsciously moistening his lips with his tongue all the time. His father obviously hadn't told him he mustn't wear anything under his shorts for clearly outlined across his tight little buttocks were the back straps of a jockstrap. In Nathan's own shorts there was no question of a bulge, more of a tent, and there was certainly no danger of Nathan freeballing. As Michael R... finished his event the two boys' eyes met and Michael came and sat down beside Nathan.

"Hey, kiddo," he said to him quietly "you've been checking me out, haven't you?" Nathan blushed deeply. "You're not doing so badly yourself, judging by that tent pole." Nathan blushed even deeper. "Do you want to touch it?" Nathan couldn't believe what he was hearing and speechless he nodded, his mouth open in fly-catching mode. He was about to move his hand when R... said "Not here, you prat. Wait until the changeover. By the way, I'm Mike R.... I'm in Year 10."

"I know," said Nathan and wished he hadn't. "I'm Natt B... in Year 7."

"Pleased to meet you, Natt." Mike wasn't to know that Nathan only called himself Natt with people he really wanted to be close to and even he was surprised with himself for saying Natt rather than Nathan.

Someone somewhere rang a hand bell that resounded all over the playing fields. The school was on the move heading for the next activity.

"Come on, Natt. Now's our chance." The sun was really warm, the air lacking any humidity. It was the sort of day where you feel comfortably warm in the minimum of clothing and with the minimum of activity. As they walked down the field away from the school Mike placed his hand surreptitiously on Natt's backside and guided him towards the fives court. As they veered away from the route everyone else was taking, there was a low cheer from a small group of Year 8 boys. Mike took his hand off Natt's butt and gave them the finger behind his back. Just as they reached the entrance to the court Phil E... and a boy from the Lower Sixth, known as Hippo, came out giggling. The four nodded in acknowledgement of each other's existence, but didn't speak.

"Okay," said Mike once they were hidden inside the fives court "are you still up for this, Natt?"

"Sure thing." Nathan was sporting wood again. Mike leant his back against the wall and lifted the front of his running vest over his head to reveal his nipples and sixpack, then interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on his head. Nathan melted.

"Be gentle with me." Nathan brought his hand hesitatingly up between Mike's legs. He felt two distinct balls inside his shorts and he jiggled them just as he had Phil E...'s the previous term, except he took more time over it. Mike took a quick intake of breath, his eyes were closed. Nathan could feel Mike's cock stiffening. "Take my shorts down, Natt." He eased Mike's shorts down over his huge bulge and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw his stiffening cock testing the bounds of his jockstrap. "Now my jock." The jockstrap fell to the floor and landed on top of his shorts. He stepped out of them, but still stood against the wall with his hands on his head and his eyes closed. "Now wank me off." Nathan moved Mike's foreskin up and down the shaft over the crown and back just as he'd seen Rod A... doing it to himself that unforgettable lunchtime. Mike's body juddered. "Slow down a bit, Natt, and fondle my balls."

"I've never done this before, Mike."

"What? Not even to yourself?"

"No. I've tried, but nothing happens."

"Keep trying. It will one day. Now a bit faster. That's lovely." As Nathan continued he noticed Mike's breathing getting deeper and faster. "I'm coming. Yeess!" Not quite sure what to expect Nathan did not get out of the way in time and Mike shot his load into Nathan's face. The sticky white liquid felt hot, but soon cooled as it dripped over his lips, down his chin and onto the top of his chest and singlet. He could not help licking his lips. The taste was strange, salty and sweet at the same time and he licked some more into his mouth. "That was awesome, Natt. You'll have to do it again sometime. Sorry about the mess." Mike stepped into his jockstrap, re-arranged his tackle letting the jock soak up the excess liquid, and pulled up his shorts. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and tried to make good the mess he had made of Nathan. His singlet remained sticky and wet. "I know what we'd better do," said Mike. "Are you ready?"

"Give me a minute. I want to this stiffy to go down first."

"And you say you've never wanked yourself off? You've obviously got a natural talent. That was overwhelming. Thanks. We must do it again."

"When was your first time?"

"In my first year. I was got in the boarding house by a couple of second years. They said it was my initiation. It hurt a bit to begin with, but they were gentle with me when they saw I was in pain. They told me the idea was for me to enjoy it, not to get hurt." Mike took Natt round to the drinking fountain in the swimming pool enclosure, turned the water on and splashed it all over Nathan's singlet and shorts, then on himself, to make it look as if they'd had a water fight. They made their way back to where they were supposed to be.

"Where have you been, R...?" bawled one of the masters organising the event.

"Sorry, sir. Just to get a drink of water. Dehydration, sir, it's dangerous for athletes."

"You look as if you spilt more down you, boy, than you drank. Now come along and get on with your event."

Half an hour later the hand bell rang again for the end of afternoon school. The majority of boys ran to their house area to get ticked off on the roll call before going to get changed. Nathan and Mike had nothing to gain by racing. So they strolled towards the end of the queue.

"Do you play tennis, Natt?"

"Sure."

"How about a game after school one night? I could book the fives court," said Mike with a knowing look and sticking his tongue into the corner of his cheek.

"Only if you promise to wear those shorts," tarted Nathan.

"I can't promise to wear these, but I've got another pair very similar."

"It's a deal," said Natt by which time they'd got to the head of the queue and had their names checked off. They then headed for their separate changing rooms. Nathan took a shower as he wanted to get rid of the stickiness on his face and chest before going home and consequently he was the last one left in the changing room. He happened to notice a pile of lost property in the corner of the room. On top was a jockstrap. Nathan couldn't resist temptation. He looked around to make sure no one was about before going across to the pile of clothes and picking it up. He automatically put the pouch to his nose and breathed in. The bouquet had a certain mix of sweat and je ne sais quoi and he felt himself stiffen. He had every intention of stealing it. 'Some payback for that sock I lost,' he thought, but before secreting it in his kit he looked at the woven name tape sewn onto it: M A R.... His heart leapt. "Yeess!" he hissed and he punched the air. He could no longer bring himself to steal it, but he would take it home, have some fun, get it laundered in the washing machine when his parents were out and return it to Mike before the end of term. Nathan looked at his watch. He'd missed his normal train. He just needed to get his books for the night and he had time for a leisurely walk to the station. Apparently his friends had all caught the previous train.

The train came into the station dead on a quarter to. It was made up of old stock and a carriage of horseboxes stopped in front of Nathan. He found an empty one and climbed in. The train moved off. He could only think about what had happened that afternoon and with a combination of his thoughts and the motion of the train his cocked predictably stiffened. He remembered Mike's jockstrap amongst his kit. Looking at his watch he remarked to himself 'Twelve minutes until we reach H...,' and he quickly fetched the article out of his bag and held it to his nose. He looked at the label - 26-30 inch waist. 'Mmm, I like it.' The pouch had permanently taken on the shape and size of Mike's loins. Nathan sniffed it again and found the ache in his cock excruciating. He looked at his watch again, unzipped his fly and unbuckled the belt on his trousers. He released his cock from his briefs and let it stand freely. He was surprisingly pleased with its size, especially considering how small it was when it was limp. He then tried to pull his foreskin backwards and forwards over the glans as he had done with Mike's, but it only went so far before it stopped and hurt. He made use of the limited play it had when suddenly there was a little tearing feeling which momentarily caused him pain and then he found he could pull his foreskin all the way back, but for some reason he didn't want to go on playing with it. He looked to see if there was any blood. There was none. The train began to slow, so Nathan pulled up his pants and trousers and made himself presentable. When he arrived home his parents found him more than usually cheerful.

That evening his mother had gone to a Women's Institute meeting and his father was busy in the garden. Nathan took the opportunity to put his soiled sports kit into the washing machine. He hesitated over whether he should wash Mike's jockstrap or not. The smell of his loins was such a turn-on; on the other hand this might be the only opportunity of getting it washed for if his mother found someone else's kit in with his there was bound to be a full scale inquest, no matter whether it was a jockstrap or just a sock. Discretion won the day and the object of his developing fetish got washed and dried before his mother's return home. That night he tried to jerk off, thinking of Mike all the time, but still with no result.

The next day as Nathan was walking out of lunch he felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking round he spotted a smiling Mike.

"How are you doing, Natt?" he enquired quietly as social intercourse between boys three years apart still caused raised eyebrows.

"Great," whispered Nathan in reply.

"How about that game of tennis after school tomorrow? I've booked the fives court."

"That's fine. I've just got to let my parents know I'll be home late," and they separated in the crowd. That night Nathan took a long time to get to sleep excited as he was about the following day. He made sure he didn't forget to take his tennis racquet.

The day went slowly. It was one of the few days when there were no special activities. Finally the bell for the end of school rang. Nathan made a dash for the door before the class had been officially dismissed.

"Hold it, B...," commanded his English master. "Have you got a date or something?" Nathan blushed.

"He hasn't," interjected Phil E... "but I have," and he batted his eyelashes towards the English master. He for some inexplicable reason could get away with it. Someone in the impatient class said 'slut' in a voice just loud enough for most of the boys to hear it. "Enough of that, thank you," said the master who also had heard.

"Pack up your belongings, boys, and you may go." Nathan was second out of the door behind Philip E... who was last seen heading at high speed for the bike sheds. Nathan went and changed into his white kit and made his way down to the fives court. Since he was the first to arrive he knocked a ball around to warm up and get used to the peculiarities of the court, for apart from a line drawn across the far wall to represent the net it in no way resembled anything that could called a tennis court. It was with some interest that he noticed the chalk marks from the Record breakers event that were still there despite the best efforts of the weather. He was not to know that the event organisers made a weekly sortie to renew them. He looked at his watch. 'Mike's a long time,' he thought and just turned to go and see whether he was walking down the field when he saw him leaning up against the wall at the entrance.

"Do you know, Natt, you've got the most amazing butt in the whole school? And I'm an expert." Nathan blushed. He had never been paid a compliment about his physique in his whole school career, apart from by his mother, but that doesn't count. He smiled coyly.

"Do you know, Mike, you've got the most amazing package in the whole school and I'm a specialist?" His voice cracked a little and they both broke out into a fit of giggles. "How long have you been there?"

"Five minutes or more," answered Mike. "I was so taken by your cute little arse and the way you were stuck into that warm-up that I couldn't tear my eyes away and bring myself to stop it. I think you're going to give me a run for my money."

Mike joined in and they played their hearts out, all according to the local rules for the court. Finally after Mike performed the near impossible and hit the ball over the wall they stopped.

"Leave that ball, Natt. We can collect that in a minute. Come here." As Mike leant against the wall, he said "You can feel my balls instead."

"Why? Did I win the game?" replied Nathan tartily.

"I lost count of the score, but if you jerk me off again, we'll call it a tie." Nathan licked his lips as he felt his own dick stiffen. "I see you're not freeballing today, Natt." Natt blushed.

"I've got a confession to make." Mike raised his eyebrows. He was the one tarting now. "I found this old jockstrap in the lost property pile and when I picked it up I found your name tape sewn on it." Nathan drew in a deep breath. "And now I'm wearing it. I know I should have left it there or returned it." He looked as if he was going to burst into tears and would have, had he not had his father's words engraven on the tablets of his memory.

"Why, that's great," replied Mike so reassuringly. "You can keep it as a souvenir of me. I've outgrown it."

"What? The waistband,"

"No, doofus, the pouch, but I accept the flattery. That's why I left where I did. Lazy, I suppose, but you can have it with all my l..." He was obviously going to say 'love', but stopped himself in time. Had Natt noticed, he wondered. He pulled Natt close to him and Natt looked up into his deep blue eyes. The moment lasted an eternity. He could feel Mike's hard dick pressed against his abdomen just above his own.

"Look, I'm going to miss my train and then I'll be in trouble with my folks." He gave Mike a quick grope as inadequate compensation.

"What are you doing Saturday afternoon?"

"Not a lot."

"I haven't got a cricket match. Would you like to play tennis again? There'll be plenty of time and you could give me a hand with one or two strokes." Natt collapsed in a fit of the giggles. Recovering he said

"I think it'll be all right, but I'll have to ask first. My parents are always saying I need to find myself more friends. I'll tell you tomorrow." They looked longingly at one another before the spell was broken and Nathan said "I really must go. Thanks for the game." They walked back up towards school together, retrieving the tennis ball on the way. Nathan noticed Phil E... walking down from the CCF assault course with a Year 11 boy, but thought no more of it. Our two waved goodbye and Nathan went off to change. That night he slept with the new prized possession Mike had bequeathed him under his pillow.

All Saturday morning Nathan was waiting for the end of school. Admittedly for the last two periods they had been let off lessons to support the first XI playing cricket against the Old Boys. He looked across at Mike who was surrounded by his form mates and smiled at him. He just didn't dare go up to him when they were there. When end of school came he still had to wait. Mike would be in boarders' lunch. So Nathan took his time getting changed and ate the packed lunch his mother had given him in the changing room before wandering down to the fives court, tennis racquet and balls in hand. At home he had rummaged through his drawers for a particular pair of white shorts his mother considered he had grown out of. If he had the most amazing butt in the school he was going to show it off, and they didn't give a bad impression at the front either. Waiting for Mike he idly knocked up, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he didn't creep up on him and surprise him from behind again. It wasn't long before his arrival and he greeted Nathan with a hug. They knocked the ball around for some minutes when Mike stopped, looked admiringly at Nathan and said

"Do you really want to play tennis this afternoon?"

"Why, Mike? Had you something else in mind?" he answered, his voice a little husky.

"Because I've got this." He produced a key on a piece of string from around his neck.

"What's that?"

"It's the key to the Corps hut. I got it because I said I had a job to do in there - tidying up before the end of term. It could be a bit of fun." Nathan was game for anything with Mike. After a week or so he trusted him implicitly. Mike picked up his sports bag as they left the fives court.

Once inside Mike closed the door and put the snick down on the Yale lock so that even if someone did have another key they wouldn't be able to unlock the door. Nathan, not old enough to join the Corps, had never been in there before. It was strictly out of bounds to non-members. He followed Mike into one of the inner rooms that had no windows and so was used as a store. It was lit by a fluorescent strip and filled with various items of camping and expedition equipment. Mike cleared a space in the middle of the floor, fetched down two bedrolls and spread them out. He then pulled a sleeping bag out of his sports bag and unrolled it over the bedrolls. The atmosphere in the room was warm and stuffy. The camping equipment made it smell a bit. Mike stripped off his tennis shirt and helped Nathan take off his.

"Natt, remember you owe me big time," he said with a huge grin.

"What's that for?"

"On Thursday you were just about to fondle my balls when you said you were going to miss your train if you didn't go home then?"

"I know. I'm sorry. I nearly had a bit of sleepless night over that."

"Come and lie down with me here on the sleeping bag." They lay down together and Mike put his arm round Nathan. With his free hand he took Nathan's hand and laid it on his shorts. Nathan stroked and felt. Mike's dick was straining to grow hard in the confines of his shorts and jockstrap. "Just a minute, Natt. This'll make it easier," and he pulled off both garments in one deft movement.

"Before I do, Mike, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," and he grinned.

"Can I ask you something else?" Mike nodded. "You know when you came last time and it went all over my face and I some got in my mouth?" Mike nodded again and grinned. "Can you make it all go in my mouth this time?" Mike nodded.

"The proper way to do that is with a blowjob."

"What's that?" asked Nathan.

"I'll show you another time. You've got to learn to walk before you can run. Now jerk me off, Natt, slowly just like you did before and I'll tell you when I'm going to come." Nathan did his best and when Mike said "I'm coming," he put his open mouth by Mike's glans, but the convulsions of his orgasm were so strong his cockhead ended up in Nathan's mouth by accident. He swallowed hard, but still had enough spunk to savour the flavour. Nathan licked Mike's glans. "Now that was something like a BJ," said Mike after he'd calmed down from his orgasm.

"A what?"

"A BJ, a blowjob. By the way, you never blow during a blowjob, you suck." They lay still in each other's arms, enjoying the moment and talking.

"Where did you learn about all these things?"

"Natt, you can't live in a boarding house with a load of teenage boys and not learn about them. Some of those older boys can come on to you pretty strong. They say they have girlfriends at home and that they just need boys to stop them feeling horny while they're away from them. It's usually a lie because if they wanted girls they can find them in town on any Saturday, or if they really did have girls at home, they'd keep themselves to themselves during term time."

"Have you done stuff with any of these guys?"

"Of course, not always willingly. Sometimes, especially when you first arrive here, you can't stop them, but if they start and you squeeze their balls hard enough they usually get the hint."

They lay there still for a few moments without saying anything. Mike broke the silence.

"Do you know something, Natt? I think your voice is breaking." Nathan tried to sing a high note and failed miserably. "And that means your body should just about be ready to produce spunk." Nathan smiled while Mike lightly ran a finger over the front of his shorts. He started to stiffen again. "And something else. I think I could get you to come off properly. Do you want to let me try?" Although he was still only twelve, Nathan was at that stage in life when he was having doubts about himself. Admittedly, there weren't any blatant adolescents in his own class, Richard A... being an exception, but when he looked around, and he had probably checked out ninety percent of the boys in the school, especially over the last week or so with the athletics practices, he was mistakenly beginning to feel inadequate. Moreover, he'd been painstakingly working on himself without finding any success, which didn't help.

"Do you really think you can do that for me, Mike?"

"I can't promise you anything, but I can try for you." Nathan smiled and nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"Now just relax and leave everything to me." Nathan lay back on the sleeping bag while Mike continued to finger his dick lightly through his shorts. He felt it stiffen again and grow. "Lift your bum up while I slip off your shorts." Mike gently, but swiftly pull off Nathan's shorts and jock. His dick sprang to life. "You know, Natt," he said "I think you're going to be grower."

"How do you mean?"

"Boys are usually either growers or show-ers. I'm a show-er because my dick doesn't increase much in size when I get an erection, but with you yours grows several sizes. So you see you're a grower. Right, I think this is going to be rather clinical unfortunately, but tell me if I hurt you. Your dick's much more sensitive when you start." Mike took Nathan's dick gently in a fist and slowly moved it up and down. Nathan just lay back trying to relax and gave out the occasional groan. He had perfect trust in Mike. It felt different with someone else doing it, more sensitive, a more intense feeling, more enjoyable. It made him think of the fact that you couldn't tickle yourself, even though other people could. He didn't know how long it went on for, certainly longer than when he tried it by himself. He was enjoying the feeling which remained pretty constant until suddenly he got a prickly feeling in his glans, similar he thought to the feeling in your nose just before you sneeze. Then his whole body, not just his dick, felt as if it were exploding. He opened his eyes just in time to see a wad of white stuff shoot out of the end of his dick at high velocity. He hadn't noticed how his breathing had become faster and more intense, but he did notice that once he had finished pumping out his first load of spunk ever how his body relaxed and a great feeling of well-being came over him. He salvaged some of his cum from his chest and put it in his mouth.

"Mmm, this tastes different from yours," said Nathan. Mike licked some off one of his nipples and another frisson went through his body. "Thank you, Mike. That was awesome." For some unknown reason he had an urge to kiss him, but normally he hated kissing, particularly aunts who came to visit. He gave into the urge and rolled over to kiss Mike on the cheek. Mike anticipated the move and dodged so that their lips met and without any warning he pushed his tongue through Nathan's lips and into his mouth. Nathan's cock, which had started to go limp, sprang into life again. Then Mike moved closer and their stiffened cocks met. Nathan felt as though he were in Heaven. Finally they parted and lying there looked into each other's eyes.

"Better than tennis, don't you think?"

"What? Tonsil tennis? You're right there," smiled Nathan. He lay there thinking how much he liked the smell of Mike. It wasn't normal body odour, or even deodorant. He snuggled closer so that his nose was just by his armpit. The smell made him feel really sexy. He couldn't define it. There was a tightness in his chest, an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wanted to be cuddled.

"What time have you got to be home?" asked Mike.

"I've got to catch the quarter past five train and then my father will meet me at the station. We've plenty of time yet."

"Do you want to go and play tennis again?"

"Not really? Do you?"

"Not really."

"Do you know what I'd really like?"

"An ice cream on a stick?"

"No, you fool," and Nathan giggled. "I'd like you to hold me in your arms and kiss me like you did just now."

"With a French kiss, you mean?"

"I don't know about that, but when we kissed and you put your tongue in my mouth. I liked that. It made me feel really sexy."

"That's called a French kiss." Mike reached over and pulled Nathan really close to him. He held his bottom. "Your butt was one of the things that attracted me."

"What else?"

"Oh, the way you looked at me, the way you kept checking me out, not just my package, but my whole body. I'm used to boys checking out my shorts and it's not just boys. Several of the masters do as well."

"Don't you mind?"

"It depends. Some of them have been really kind to me. When you're a boarder you get to know them in a different way. On the other hand some of them are just lecherous dirty old men who'd touch you up as soon as look at you if it didn't mean losing their jobs and ending up in court."

"Are you going to name names?"

"Nah. With a butt like yours and your voice breaking you'll soon find out next term who they are. Then you can make up your own mind - ignore them or tart and use them to your own advantage."

"So you don't mind being checked out and looked at?"

"No. For a start I'm pretty sure I'm gay, so why not enjoy it? And for another I've got a pretty good body, so why not show it off? After all I could wear kit a size larger and no one would give me a second glance, but I like it,"

"Why do you say you're pretty sure?"

"Firstly, my elder brother's gay, so it could be in the family. My second brother is disgustingly str8, though. Secondly, it just could be an adolescent phase. That's what they said about Ray, except he's now living with his boyfriend or partner or whatever in a house near to where he works. So I won't know for sure until I've left school, but I've got to say I enjoy being gay. If you're going to be gay, a boarding house in an all boys school is quite a good place to start." Nathan went quiet for a minute, deep in thought.

"Does this mean, Mike, that I'm your little boy or bumboy?"

"Boyfriend's a nicer word and the answer's no. I'm a free agent and I like to think we're just good friends and that we were brought together by circumstances over the past few days. I'm not the romantic or falling in love type and next week we're going to be separated for two months by the holidays and I know I won't be able to remain faithful during all that time if the right opportunity comes along. And there again you might find someone else. You don't mind, do you?"

"No," said Nathan "but then it hadn't occurred to me, all what you said about falling in love and boyfriends. We can remain good friends, though, can't we?" He looked pleadingly into Mike's eyes. "And still have the occasional game of 'tennis'?"

"Of course," and Mike smiled tenderly. Nathan thought for a while, taking all this in. He looked up.

"You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"What?"

"You see, you have. You were going to cuddle and kiss me, French kiss me." Mike pulled Nathan tight in his arms, caressed his butt cheeks and crevice, and gave him a long deep kiss which Nathan returned with all his body and all his soul. 'I want to get inside that tight little butt and I've got four days to steal his cherry,' Mike thought to himself.

After their passion had been stilled with Mike shooting his load between their bodies - "Look, no hands," he giggled to Nathan - they decided they had better at least go and work up an honest sweat. They pulled their sports kit back on, quickly tidied the store and Mike locked up the hut behind them. After half an hour's thrash about the fives court it was time for Nathan to go and catch his train. He kissed Mike goodbye who returned to the boarding house and took a quick shower to get rid of any stickiness that remained. Nathan got to the station with a minute to spare and his father was waiting in the car at the other end.

"Hi, Dad," Nathan said in his new husky voice.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Wicked. Mike's a damn good tennis player. He's taught me a thing or two this afternoon. Hard going. I feel whacked."

"Early night tonight then. You've had quite a busy week this week, you know."

"I know," he said in a tone of resignation, but early to bed didn't necessarily mean early to sleep.

* * *

Nathan was determined to perform on himself the same service Mike had performed on him that afternoon. At nine, though it hadn't even got dark yet, he announced that he was fed up with the television and that he was going upstairs to read. He cleaned his teeth, got undressed and put on a pair of loose boxers before climbing into bed. It was too hot under the duvet, so he lay on top trying to read his book. All the time he was stroking himself and couldn't concentrate on what he was reading. Finally his dick was so hard and throbbing that he gave up trying to read and focused all his attention on having another orgasm. He was determined to carry on, come what may, until he shot his load. At least he now knew what it felt like and what to expect, but finally after what seemed an eternity the prickly feeling came in his glans, the white stuff shot out and he experienced stars before his eyes. He found his dick was too sensitive to touch anymore and he lay back and relaxed. Then he realised that his spunk had grown cold and sticky and had made a mess. He searched for his handkerchief and eventually found it in the pocket of his jeans. It had grown dark by now and so Nathan climbed under the duvet, put the light out and contented fell asleep.

Sunday went by as Sunday does, except that the B...s had an early lunch and drove to the beach for the afternoon. This was where Nathan missed out on having no friends nearby to hang out with. At least the family dog was a good companion and playmate. He loved the beach and was always the first one in the water. When they arrived home, the first job was to hose him down and get the salt out of his coat. It was always a great game for boy and dog, but if he'd thought there was any risk of having a formal bath he would slink off and hide somewhere. As Nathan towelled him down his father came and sat down on the garden bench beside him.

"Everything all right, Natt?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You didn't have a nightmare or anything last night?"

"No." Nathan was puzzled.

"It's just that we heard you tossing and turning in bed last night and we thought you were having a bad dream." His father got up to go back indoors. As he did, he turned and said "We'd better put some WD40 on the bedsprings. It's surprising how much they creak." Nathan blushed deep red, but thankfully his father had disappeared back into the kitchen. 'He was half right,' thought Nathan 'but I certainly wasn't turning.'

Later that evening before he went to bed his mother sat him down.

"Nathan, we'd better sort out what you're doing this week."

"Okay, Mum. Tomorrow's sports day and so I'll be home either on the late train or the late late train. We're allowed to go after the cups and certificates have been presented, but there'll be a roll call."

"Are you in any event?"

"No, I'm not good enough."

"So you won't want any sports kit?"

"We've been told to take it in case someone doesn't turn up or is injured." Mrs B... wrote all this down on her pad.

"Now Tuesday."

"Swimming gala and I'm a reserve." Nathan couldn't wait for that. It was going to be the highlight of the year, that followed by sports day. "Then modern language plays in the evening and I'm in one, so I'll stay on and play tennis." 'One packed tea,' Mrs B... wrote down on her pad.

"Now we're coming to that. So we can bring you home. Wednesday?"

"We watch cricket in the afternoon, boys versus staff, then the revue in the evening."

"We can't come to that. Your father's got one of his meetings and I'm at WI. Can you catch a train all right?"

"Yes, but I'll need picking up from the station. There's only one bus an hour at that time of night, and parents aren't invited because there's a risk some of the sketches could be a bit iffy... so I'm told." Nathan coughed.

"You'll have to phone me from the station. Tennis after school?" asked his mother. He nodded. 'One packed tea,' Mrs B... wrote down on her pad.

"And Thursday's the end of term," he continued "and it finishes at midday, so I'll be home for lunch."

"Are you off to bed now?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Good night, love. Sleep tight." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't forget to say good night to your father. He's watching the news."

"Okay, Mum. Good night."

When Nathan got up to his room, he changed for bed. He looked at himself in the mirror, thought about Saturday afternoon and watched his dick grow. 'Mike's right. I must definitely be a grower,' he thought and tried to pull his boxers over it. He was about to start rubbing it when he remembered what his father had said about the bedsprings. So he rolled over and immediately went to sleep.

Next day Nathan found that lessons were purely incidental in the last week with quizzes and other entertainments. Homework had been cancelled for the rest of term. He was impatient for sports day to begin. He went out onto the playing fields straight after lunch so that he could start checking out the participants as soon as possible. Nearly everyone had made an effort to appear in their best white kit, the white only broken by the coloured house band sewn across each singlet. He had devised a new interest, to see who were wearing jockstraps. Admittedly it was chiefly the older boys and he found it such a turn-on whenever he spotted two straps under shorts across the buttocks. He also tried to pick out the freeballers and spot any low undercarriages. He went around that afternoon with an almost permanent erection and he was sure his briefs felt damp. Finally he spotted Mike, but left him with his mates from his own year group.

Mike was running the U15 200m and was lining up with the others at the start. The pistol fired and he was the first out of his blocks. Nathan stood up and cheered him on, suddenly realising he should be shouting the house name, not his. The other boys were gaining on him. In a twenty-five to thirty second race there's not much time for manœuvre or tactics. Nathan continued to shout at the top of his voice until by no more than an inch Mike broke the tape. Forgetting all modesty and decorum Nathan ran across and hugged him in congratulation.

"Thanks, Natt," and he hugged him back.

The result came over the speakers. "... and that was a new school record." A cheer went up and Nathan hugged him again. The next event started and there was no longer any attention on Mike.

"Hey, Natt." Nathan looked up. "Do you feel like a quickie down in the Corps hut? I've got nothing until the relays right at the end."

"Do I? I haven't done anything since Saturday and I'm dying for it, especially after watching all you hunks."

"Make your way down there as if you're going to the long jump pit and I'll catch you up. I'm just going to fetch my tracksuit from the start."

Mike took the string with the key on it from around his neck and unlocked the door.

"What do you want to do, Natt?"

"French kiss you and feel your balls. Then I want you to wank me off."

"You know your own mind, don't you?"

"You did ask," smiled Nathan.

"There's no sleeping bag today, I'm afraid." Mike took Nathan and pressed him against the wall.

Having had their pleasure from one another, they were just talking, mainly about the rest of term.

"I've got two things left I need to show you. You don't have to do them. You do understand that, don't you?"

"What are they?"

"A blowjob and how to make love properly and we've only got two days left to do it." Nathan explained that he would be staying after school both those days and how he'd like to try it.

Suddenly there came from the speakers "This is the first call for the relays. Would all relay competitors report to the start."

"That's me," said Mike. They left the hut and Mike made sure the door was locked. As they stepped out in the sunshine he said "Oh shit, I've got spunk on my shorts. Nothing else for it. The water trick again. See you later, Natt," and he made a dash for the drinking fountain. Nathan made his way towards the relay track.

Nathan stood near to Mike as he was called up to receive his two certificates, clapping like mad and unwittingly drawing attention to himself. When the ceremony was over the two went and got checked off at roll call and decided to give Sports Day tea a miss. Nathan simply felt a great surge of what he could not call anything but lust as he looked at Mike in his athletics kit. He made an instant decision to catch the late late train.

"C'mon, Natt, I know a nice secluded place up by the assault course. So what are you doing over the next couple of days?" Nathan told him. "Great. That leaves two sessions to finish off your apprenticeship." It was a strange thing to say, but it tied up with what he had been thinking, that it had been a learning curve. It had happened at the end of the summer term when blood and hormones ran riot in adolescents anyway. They would not see each other for nearly two months and what they had enjoyed together was friendship, yes, sex, yes, but that was it. Nathan would miss them both, but he felt no emotional bond. They'd had a good time together and that time was coming to a natural end, he was that pragmatic.

"So what are you doing over the holidays, Mike?"

"Everything, yet nothing. You see, my people travel a lot in their work, buying and selling, giving talks and lectures - art mainly, sometimes antiques. That's why I board. So in the holidays I go with them. I know we're off to America at the end of term, but after that I haven't the slightest idea. How about you?"

"A couple of weeks on the beach in Spain, otherwise not a lot."

"Are you looking forward to it?"

"Yeah, it's okay, but done, seen it, got the jigsaw and I'll get the ball cap this year." Meanwhile they had reached the assault course. Mike held Nathan back and put his finger on his lips. It was a still day and apart from the twitterings of birdsong all that could be heard was the sound of heavy breathing accompanied by grunts. He grabbed Nathan's hand and led him on a circuitous route to a vantage point and what did they see? None but Phil E... and the Head of School, both with their trousers down in delicto flagrante. Both of our boys wanted to burst out laughing, but controlled themselves until they managed to get far enough away.

"Fancy a bit of that on Wednesday, Natt?"

"My social horizons are a bit lower. I don't go for head boys."

"No, I mean the shagging."

"I know you do. Just teasing. If it's all right with you I'm up for it."

"That's buggered us up a bit."

"Is that the right choice of words?" They both burst out laughing. Nathan looked at his watch. "It's getting a bit close to time for the late late train."

"Time for a quick kiss and a grope?"

"You're on, Mike, but it'll have to quick." They nipped behind the Corps hut and in a trice Mike had Natt's zip down and was struggling to lug out his and his own half hard dicks.

It was about six o'clock Tuesday evening and Nathan had wandered off onto the school playing fields to find a bit of solitude and to eat his mother's packed tea. The boarders were having their supper and there were plenty of dayboys dotted about the grounds waiting until it was time to get ready for the modern language plays. Nathan's priority was to go through the words for his French sketch, but he could not concentrate as his mind ran over and over what had happened during the previous two hours. 'Build 'em up, knock 'em down' was not a phrase he was familiar with, but it summed up his expectations for the end of term, not that he was cross with Mike R.... How could he be after the good times they had had together over the previous couple of weeks or so? Any expectations must have been built up by himself. Mike had introduced him to the art of the blowjob, which in itself had broadened Nathan's horizons, but as they sat talking in the stuffy heat of the Corps hut, Mike told him that after a great deal of thought he didn't think that he (Nathan) was ready yet for the final act of lovemaking. Of course, his reasoning was impeccable: by agreement they were not in love with one another, but also it was not an act to be entered upon lightly, particularly in the confines of the Corps hut storeroom with its smells and lack of ventilation on a bedroll on the floor with none of the conducive hygienic facilities, such as a shower; and without the careful preparations needed, particularly of Nathan's butt, it would be little better than rape and would do more to put him off than encourage him. When Mike had explained the mechanics, everything became clear to Nathan, but did little to alleviate his disappointment. It was a credit to Mike that he could act so responsibly when a unscrupulous suitor could have taken full advantage of him. All this was running through his mind when he was discovered by a couple of his form mates who insisted they went through th eir lines together.

The modern language plays went wonderfully well, not only very entertaining in their own right, but set as they were as a cabaret in a French café scenario where the parents were served by pupils dressed in black and white as waiters and waitresses. Mr and Mrs B... were about to whisk Nathan off home afterwards when Mike came up to congratulate him and he was able to introduce his 'tennis partner'. Fortunately they did not appear to notice how much older than Nathan Mike was. Before parting they agreed on their last 'match' the following afternoon while waiting for the revue.

"Mike seems like a nice boy," said Mrs B... in the car on the way home, while Natt could hardly restrain a titter as he tried to think which comedian it was who used that as a catch phrase.

"He's really cool," answered Nathan.

"That means he's popular and well liked?" enquired Mr B... at the wheel, making his customary protest against Nathan's use of the modern idiom. The tautology didn't count for anything.

"Right on, Daddyo. We'll have you rapping yet," answered Nathan dismissively, while hoping that there might not be any further enquiries. Once home Nathan went straight to bed, hoping to dream of BJs given and received, but as always happened, he dreamt, but of nothing even remotely connected to what he wanted to dream about.

The next day at school was representative of any last full day of the summer term. Lessons were notional as textbooks had to be collected in and taken to the bookstore, there were practices for the choir and the revue, pupils saw their end of term reports before they were whisked away to be sealed in envelopes for onward transmission to parents. Lunch was early to allow extended time for the cricket match between the 1st XI and the staff, watched by the whole school in theory and followed by roll call. Nathan and Mike met for the last time that term and wandered off down through the playing fields until they reached the hidey-hole by the assault course. They had been lucky that summer. A good fortnight had passed without any rain and while the weather had been warm it had not reached heat wave proportions. They had not even made any pretence of playing tennis; they knew they wouldn't. The two boys sat down side by side in the grass under the shade of an oak tree, put their arms round each other and just chatted. As they were talking Natt looked down the length of Mike's body and could not take his eyes off the soft bulge in his trousers and in due time gained a hard bulge in his own. In the end temptation got the better off him and he rolled over to kiss Mike, putting his hand between his upper legs, stroking his thighs, and one thing led to another. Afterwards they might even have dozed in each other's arms. With a jump Natt looked at his watch. Just gone five.

"It's okay," said Mike. "Nearly another hour."

"Euh, look! You've got spunk on your shirt, Mike."

"No, Natt, you've got spunk on my shirt," said Mike with a wicked grin as he wiped it off with his handkerchief.

"I was wondering..."

"Yees?"

"...how many gay boys do you think there are in the school?"

"Hard to say. For a start there are those like me who really are gay and there are those who are out for the quick thrill and would probably be quite satisfied with an old sock, but because boys are available, and depending on who you are, readily available, they use them. Like your classmate Phil E.... At a guess I would say he is gay and I'll tell you why in a minute, but some of his clientele aren't. Their egos are just flattered by having a small boy make eyes at them and of course the spin-off for him is that he doesn't get into trouble with the prefects. Do you know how to tell if someone's officially out at school?"

"No."

"Where do you wear your house badge?"

"In my lapel. Why?"

"Ah, but which one?" Natt had left his school jacket at home, so he had to think.

"In the left one."

"Mm, why?"

"Because that's where the button hole has been put."

"Exactly. Have you noticed anybody wearing it in the right lapel?"

"One or two."

"That shows that they've come out."

"Hey, I've just had a thought. Phil E... wears his on the right side."

"See what I mean? And there's a refinement. Where do you put your pens?"

"In my inside pocket. I was always taught it was bad form to wear pens and combs in your breast pocket," said Nathan.

"You see, you were brung up proper; but have you noticed people who do put pens and combs in their outside pockets?"

"Yeah."

"If the house badge is on the right and they're showing a pen it means they're looking for sex."

"Phil E... again."

"And two pens they're really desperate."

"And what does it mean if they've got a whole row of pens across their pocket?"

"Sad bastard." Nathan giggled thinking for a moment at the combinations he'd seen around the school and mentally scolded himself for being so obtuse as not to notice them before.

"Have you seen kids with the labels of their shirt or pullovers sticking up at the back of their neck?"

"Yees?"

"That means they had a wank last night." Nathan raise his eyebrows. "And one last thing, then I've got to go to supper."

"What's that?"

"Have you ever felt anyone when they're shaking your hand tickle your palm with their finger?"

"Mmm, think so."

"That's called the queer's handshake and if you want them to know you're gay you tickle their palm back. Like this," and Mike demonstrated. "But watch out because as soon as you do it back you're liable to feel a left hand groping your balls." Nathan was amazed at all he'd learnt from Mike and felt in a privileged position, for not many dayboys were in such a position as to find these things out. The two boys got up to go, brushed themselves down and held hands until they reached the open fields. "See you after the revue, Natt" said Mike. "We can say goodbye. There won't be time tomorrow. I have to go off early to catch a train that connects with the one for home."

Nathan was feeling happier than he was twenty-four hours previously. He found some of his form mates and ate the tea his mother had packed with them as they watched the dying moments of the boys versus staff match. At seven thirty the revue began. Nathan was amazed, not just at the quality and cleverness of the sketches performed by both staff and senior boys, but at the irreverence of some of them. The headmaster allowed it because he considered it a valuable safety valve for the school and the pupils knew that any damaging high jinks on the last night would bring with them the end of the revue and the wrath of the community. One particular item interested Nathan. The running joke consisted of Phil E... in full school uniform crossing the stage between sketches holding the hand of various senior boys, culminating of course with that of the head boy.

The performance ended just before nine and as Nathan emerged from the school hall he was met by Mike.

"C'mon, Natt," he whispered, but needn't have bothered. "I know a quiet place we can go. What time's your train?"

"It doesn't matter. They're every half hour. I just have to phone my mother so that she can meet me." Mike took Nathan to a spot behind the pavilion he didn't even know existed. The very thought of going off with Mike had already given him a boner. Mike got him up against the wall and they kissed passionately. Natt made the most of it. He knew this would be the last opportunity he would have of fondling those outsize balls and stroking that XXL cock. When they were ready, Nathan took out his mobile, called his mother and departed for the next train. In July it was still quite light at that time.

"Did you have a good evening, dear?" asked Mrs B... as he stepped outside the station.

"The best, Mum."

The next day it was full school uniform for the last day of term. Nathan took hold of his jacket, looked at it for a minute before transferring his blue house badge from the left to the right lapel, pens securely clipped into his inside pocket.

Comments, even constructive adverse ones, will always be welcome and I shall do my best to reply.
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