Losing Tim

by Nigel Gordon

Chapter 4

Black Country 1962

Huddled up against the trunk we discussed our options for the afternoon. My place was out, and Chris made no mention of his. The cinema was showing an A film, so we needed an adult to get in. Neither of us wanted to spend the afternoon in the library and we did not have our togs with us, so the baths were out. Chris turned to me, then after giving a quick furtive look round the park, which was deserted in this downpour, grabbed my crotch through my jeans, kneading my balls and already hard cock.

"You want some fun?" It was more of a statement than a question. What I wanted was evident from the state of my cock, which he could feel through my jeans. I nodded in any event.

"Good," he stated, "I know just the place, when it eases off, we'll go there." The rain if anything seemed to be coming down even heavier than before. However, within about five minutes it eased off to a light drizzle once more. Chris led the way, over to the back of the park, past the bowling green to the area where the potting and tool sheds lay. Beyond these were a group of old derelict sheds on the edge of the workings that were no longer used.

Chris followed a narrow, but well used, path behind mounds of leaf mould and composting vegetation. There was a shed, its door chained and padlocked. We squeezed through the gap between the shed and the wall. Not that tight a squeeze, I could still manage it many years later. Behind the shed and abutting to it, was an old forcing hut. The small plot associated with it now hidden behind a pile of spoil. The door to this was unlocked; we entered and made our way through to another door. This was bolted from within, Christ reached behind an old sack hanging on the wall and pulled on a cord, the bolt slipped back, and the door swung open. He led the way in. I followed. Chris pushed the door to behind me. There was a click as the sprung bolt shot back in place. I looked at it. The bolt seemed nearly new, well-oiled and carefully maintained. It seemed odd in a building that appeared unused.

Heavy sacks covered the windows. What light there was filtered in through a couple of grimy skylights. The interior of the shed was dim. In the corner sitting on a couple of boxes topped with a pile of sacks was the boy I had seen earlier by the swings.

"Hi Chris," he said, "so you're what he was waiting for."

"Yea Terry," Chris responded, "this is Peter."

"Ah, the famous Peter." He stood and walked over to look at me. "I've heard a lot about you." He then went back to sit on his boxes. Chris took off his coat and hung it on a nail in the wall. I followed suit. He then moved to stand in front of me and undid his jeans, pulling his cock out.

"Come on then," he said reaching out to my fly. I looked over at Terry who was reading a magazine. "Oh, Terry's Ok with it," he commented as he undid my jeans and pushed them and my pants down, reaching out and taking my cock in his hand. I took his, as I did so I glanced over again at Terry who still sat on his boxes reading the magazine.

Chris sank down on his knees in front of me, taking my cock into the warmth of his mouth, using his tongue to lick round the head. Terry got up and walked towards us, undoing his trousers as he did. He pulled out a heavily erect cock, far bigger than Chris's or mine.

He came up beside me and stood, slowly wanking, watching Chris sucking me. Then he stepped close, putting his hand on my arse and running it up my back, under my shirt. I reached out and took his throbbing tool in my hand. He pulled my head round, his mouth covered mine, his tongue penetrating inside. As he kissed, he unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it off my shoulders and pulling it free. He then moved his mouth down my body, licking my nipples, his hand moved down my back to the crack of my arse.

I looked down at Chris whose mouth still enveloped my cock. He had removed his shirt and thrown it in the corner and pushed down his jeans. As I watched, he kicked off his shoes and stood up, stepping out of his jeans. I noticed he was not wearing any pants.

Chris stood there naked, he picked up a couple of sacks and throw them on the floor, then told me to lie down. I did. Chris bent over and pulled off my shoes, then my jeans and pants. Terry stood at the side, also stripping, soon he too was naked. He looked at Chris who nodded at him. A communication had taken place that I did not understand and was not part of.

Chris placed himself down over me. His cock just above my face. I took the hint, as he leaned forward to take my cock in his mouth, I took his in mine. We started to work on each other in a common rhythm of ecstasy. As we did so Terry knelt down behind us. He placed his hands on the cheeks of Chris's arse, pushing them apart, exposing his arsehole a couple of inches above my eyes.

Terry bought his head down level with Chris's arse, his tongue extended and started to lick the hole as his fingers pulled it open. A quiver of excitement passed through Chris. I felt a pulse of tension in his cock. Chris's fingers started to work on the edge of my arsehole, a tingling excitement combined with an uncertain apprehension started to fill me.

Terry pulled his face away. A moment later the head of his cock was pressed against Chris's hole. Terry pushed forward his cock bending slightly. He spread Chris's cheeks with his hands and the head slipped in. There was a gasp from Chris, then a long moan of satisfaction as the rest of the shaft sank in. As it did, I gasped, for Chris had inserted a finger into me. He worked it in a rhythm to Terry who was now pounding his cock in and out of Chris's arse.

It seemed like ages that the three of us worked together to our mutual enjoyment, cock in mouth, cock in arse, finger in arse. Then it came. The inevitable pressure built up. I felt the tremor of Chris's body as his load of cum shot into my mouth. Almost in response, I shot mine into his.

Terry pulled back out of Chris. Thick globules of creamy cum shot forth to fall on Chris's back and my face.

We wiped ourselves off and dressed.

"He's nice Chris, taking him to Jack's?" Terry asked.


We sat around for a bit and talked, waiting for a break in the rain. Then Chris walked with me uptown on my way home. I asked him about what Terry had done to him, didn't it hurt? He said it did when the bikers had done it to him. Then he told me that when you wanted somebody to do it, then it did not hurt. It might for a second or two to start with but then it went in and the feeling was really good.

That was my first visit to the shed, though that summer, once I got back from Scout Camp, it was to become a regular meeting place with Chris. He quickly explained the rule of the Shed. You could only go there in the afternoon, after one. You must never take anyone there for a "first time experience". If any of us boys were in there and any park staff came in, we had to let them play with us and suck them off.

That Saturday it rained heavy, Chris phoned me just before lunch to say he could not meet at the park. I assumed because of the rain though he did not say. We agreed to meet up and go to the pictures on Sunday. We went to the early show and then drank a couple of Tizers before splitting up and going home. Not though before I had arranged to meet with Chris when I got back from camp.

It was late Thursday when I got back from camp. We were supposed to have been back for five, but it was more like nine, so there was no way I could get to meet Chris. Camp had been a pain and the four days had really dragged. I also found the games the boys were playing dull and boring. Even the older scouts were still at the "you show me yours and I'll show you mine" stage.

Friday morning, I went to the library to change my library books. George was on duty. Amongst the books I had selected was a book of poems. George suggested I might like to try reading Longfellow and got me a copy of Hiawatha out of the stack. I took the books home and returned to the town and went down to the park. It was just after two when I got to the Shed. Nobody was there. I went and sat on the stack of boxes. Down the side between the boxes and the wall was a pile of magazines. These must have been what Terry was looking at last time I was there. I got one out and opened it. Inside there were pictures of naked boys and men, not the porno stuff we get today, just pictures of boys and men playing games, running and jumping. I was deep in the magazine when the door opened and Chris came in; he looked tired and his hair was a mess.

He came over and put his arm on my shoulder, leaning over to look at the magazine. I reached out and touched his groin; he pulled back.

"Not now, I've been working and don't feel like it." This was the first time I had heard Chris turn down an approach. What kind of work put him off fun anyway? For a moment I felt rejected, but Chris bent over and kissed me, then said he would buy us some ice cream.

We left the shed and went back to the main part of the park. The weather was bright and warm, a change from the last few days, and the park was fairly full. At the ice cream stall, we had to join a short queue. Whilst waiting for our turn two younger boys came up and asked Chris to get them an ice cream. He said OK. When we got to the stall; he got two 99s and a couple of choc ices. He gave the choc ices to the boys who grinned with massive smiles and then ran off with a short skipping run. I asked Chris who they were?

"Peter and Paul, the twins, we live at the same place."

We went down to the swings to eat our ice cream, but they were all full, so we sat on the bench instead. The twins were down by the paddling pool playing with a group of kids about their own age or a bit younger. The remains of rapidly consumed choc ices smeared across their faces. I pointed this out to Chris who turned to look at them. Just then an older boy, fifteen or sixteen walked down to the pool and spoke to the twins. They did not look happy but left their playmates and followed the boy.

"Shit!" exclaimed Chris. The boy and the twins went off in the direction of the ice cream stall.

"What's up."

"Someone I want to avoid, come on let's get out of here." I followed Chris out of the park, at the gate we met Terry coming in.

"I shouldn't go to the Shed," Chris commented to him.

"Why not?"

"Mike's there with the twins."

"Shit. Mind if I tag along with you two?" Chris looked at me. I just shrugged my shoulders. I would have preferred to have Chris to myself but did not really mind Terry being around. In some ways, I rather liked him and had been thinking about him doing to me what he had done to Chris.

"OK," responded Chris, "but we are just going uptown, I've been working all night and in no state to play."

"That I had been so lucky!" Terry responded. " I've been home all week and Da's been there, no chance to get out and earn a penny and he never makes it fun."

"Oh, I think I've enough to cover us all," Chris replied as he pulled out a wad of pound notes from his pocket.

"Brum?" Terry asked. Chris nodded. "You should be careful going over there. They're clamping down."

"I'm OK, I only do the café and only punters Dave knows." I recalled the café we went into and slowly, like treacle dripping on a cold day, pieces started to fall into place, though I could not quite understand what I was thinking.

We spent the rest of the day in town looking round the shops. In the bookshop, I found a copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. George had recommended that I should read it. I stood looking at it. Chris came up and took it off me, went to the counter and bought it for me, seven shillings and sixpence

In the weeks that followed I met with Chris a couple of times a week. Nearly always we would meet in the Shed. Sometimes we would go swimming or to the movies. If Chris had been working, we might go into Walsall or even Birmingham, though more often than not we would just walk around town. Other times we would have sex in the shed. Often just the two of us, at other times more boys would be present, generally Terry, sometimes the twins, who it seemed were very experienced at these games. The instances seem to merge together, and details get confused after so many years. There were though some sessions that stand out in the memory.

The first must have been a couple of weeks after I had returned from scout camp. Terry, Chris and I were in the shed in a fairly usual set up. That is me and Chris sucking each other whilst Terry was masturbating over both of us. We had not been in the shed very long when the bolt clicked back, and this man entered in overalls. He seemed quite old, with grey hair, gnarled hands and a dropping fag hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He shut the door behind him and put a key into the lock and turned it. Then he looked at us and smiled. Reaching up he released the catches on his overalls, which fell away. Underneath he wore a tee-shirt and nothing else. A massive pendulous cock swing between his legs.

"The new boy", he stated, "come here, time to pay the rent." Chris and Terry pulled me to my feet and pushed me towards him. As they did Chris whispered to me to give him a good suck. As I stumbled forward, the man reached out and caught me behind the neck, pulling me forward against his chest. His other hand reached down and cupped my balls. My cock, which had lost its erection, immediately sprang back to life.

"Nice," he said, his fingers slipped between my legs and started to massage my arse hole. I looked down at his cock that was now stiffening up. It was massive. Did he want to put that into me? I had never had a cock in me and did not know how to take it.

The hand on my neck pushed me down. I sensed, more than saw Chris and Terry standing on each side of me. The gigantic organ in front of me was taken in hand and guided to my mouth. I opened my mouth, stretching it painfully wide to accommodate the girth of the cock. As it entered Chris sank down next to me and started to lick the massive ball sac. I worked my tongue around the head. Almost before I had started a tightness throbbed through the shaft and then shot after shot of salty cum filled my mouth. Shooting forth in such quantities that it ran from my lips and dripped down my face onto my chest.

With that, the cock was pulled from my mouth. The man patted me on the head, pulled up his overalls, turned, unlocked the door and left.

The second incident was a week or so after my 13 th birthday. I was in the shed, naked, standing with my back to the door. Chris, also naked, was kneeling in front of me performing oral gymnastics on my cock. The bolt on the door was pulled and somebody came in. I guessed it was Terry; we were expecting him. Indeed, a second later he walked past us, started to undress placing his clothes on the pile of boxes before coming and standing behind Chris.

He pulled my head down to his cock, which I started to suck. As I did, I became aware that somebody else was in the shed. A pair of hands caressed my back, running down to my arse. My arse cheeks were pulled open and a warm wet tongue invaded my hole. The sensation was incredible, like nothing I had ever felt before. I wanted more. Although I feared it and the pain, I thought I must go with it, at that moment I would have welcomed a cock in me to make the sensation whole.

It was not to be, the whole experience was just too much for me. Before more than a couple of seconds of such simulation, my body convulsed in fulfilment and my load shot forth into Chris's mouth. I collapsed onto the floor. A familiar voice stated:

"Damn, I had only just started," I looked up at the speaker.


"Yes Pete, glad you've joined the gang."

I went off to the side and sat on the boxes watching my three best friends enjoying themselves. Chris sucking Terry, whilst Michael first was rimming him, then pushing his cock deep into Chris's arse. It excited me to watch and my limp cock started to stiffen up. At almost the same time Michael and Terry climaxed and pulled away from Chris. He turned over and lay on his back wanking himself. When he looked at me, he smiled, seeing my now hard cock and told me to come and fuck him. I told him I had never done it, to which he replied it was about time I learnt.

I went over to where he was laying. He pulled his legs back raising his arse up off the floor and exposing his hole. I place the head of my cock against it and pushed. Already lubricated with Michael's cum and well stretched it accommodated me with ease. I slipped into a tight warm world of ecstasy. My hips thrust down in a rhythm responding to the movements of Chris's body. Suddenly his arse tightened on my cock and he shot load after load across his chest. In response, I climaxed for a second time and deposited my cum in his guts.

For a moment we just held it there, then as I withdrew, I leaned forward and kissed him, saying as I did:

"I love you."

"I know." A smile of triumph crossed Chris's face. He returned the kiss.

The summer holidays were soon over. Back to school. Though now I lived a lot closer. We had moved a few days after my thirteenth birthday to a house on Lime Road, which backed onto the Civil Defence Club, where my father was on the committee and spent most of his spare time.

In many ways the move was beneficial, but it was a disaster for my finances. At the time I got five shillings a week for pocket money. I had also been getting six-pence a day for bus fare to and from school, though most days I would walk it. To get the bus, I had to walk up to town, then catch the bus to the Darlaston Road end of King's Hill Park, then walk through the park. It was not very much farther to walk the whole way and keep the money.

Anyway, I had company on my walk, at least the walk to school. One of the teachers was a world-class walker and walked the ten miles to and from his house every day. That walk took him past where I had lived. I got into the habit of walking with him. Even when I had got a bike and could ride to school, having a place in the bike shed as I lived so far away, I often chose to walk, enjoying the company and conversation of that gentleman.

A further complication in my finances was the fact that I no longer had to pass by the library or at least close to it, for it was slightly out of my way. Often when I called in on my way home from school, if George was on duty, he might ask me to do an errand for him. Usually to pick up some groceries or other goods and drop them round to him when he had finished at seven. For that task, I might get a sixpence or sometimes a shilling.

The total impact of the move was to more than halve my weekly income. A situation I found uncomfortable, especially when out with Chris, who always seemed to have money.

Chris also was back at school, though which I did not know. As a result, we saw less of each other. We would meet up on a Saturday afternoon at the swimming baths then go together to the cinema for the early show. For some reason, both Chris and Terry had started to avoid the shed and had told me to stay away from it.

One Tuesday there was a "training day" so I had a day off school. Wandering around town I saw kids from the other secondary schools around, so we all must have had the day off. I thought that Chris would also be off, so I made my way to the park and the shed. Entering the shed I took in the sight of the twins, naked and venerable. Above them was the older boy I had seen with them before in the park. His cock was rammed into the face of one of the twins, whilst the other was behind him licking his arse.

I turned to leave, but a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back, throwing me down onto the floor. He reached down, undoing my jeans and pushed them and my pants down. My cock stood hard, erect and throbbing.

"So, this is Chris's little toy," he commented putting his hand on my balls and squeezing hard so that I screamed. He pulled me up off the floor and putting his hand behind my head pushed his cock into my face.

"Go on, suck it. I'm a lot better than Chris." The cock pushed at my lips, forcing its way in. Five years of intermittent training from my Dad, when he could be bothered to think about me at all, came into play. My hand sought the little finger of the hand holding me down. I pulled it back forcing him to release my neck. As I stood up, I manoeuvred the hold into a reverse straight arm wrist lock and holding him at bay pulled up my jeans with my other hand. Once I had them fastened, I reached back, opened the door, then applying pressure to his elbow threw him into the boxes in the corner. Then I turned and fled, not taking any note of the twins. Once outside I did not stop till at the back gates to the park. Then I vomited.

"All right son?" I looked up and saw the gardener who sometimes came to the shed looking at me. I shook my head. "Come on, let's get you some tea." He took me to another shed. Inside on the bench was a primus stove on which boiled a kettle and made a pot of strong tea. Then carefully he extracted the details of the events in the shed from me.

"That Mike, he's no good. Saw you running from the shed and guessed something was up." He was silent for a bit, thinking, then went to the box on the shelf and took out a sixpence, which he handed to me.

"Here, get yourself a bus home, or an ice cream. I'll deal with Mike." I left the park and wandered back uptown, neither wanting to go home or to have the ice cream. Mike's attitude had frightened me. I enjoyed sex with other boys and with men like Mark, the doctor and the gardener. With them although we were doing it together, even when one was dominant. What had happened in the shed though was different. How it was different I did not understand? I just knew that it was. I felt used. With all the rest I had a choice, even if I had not exercised it, with Mike there was no choice offered.

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