Date: Sat, 11 Sep 2010 12:42:58 +0000
From: mark Members <markmembers@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: At school. Part 4 The epilogue

Strictly speaking this story should not be in the adult youth section. But
as what happened happened only because of "At school" I hope the Nifty
archivist, famed for his wisdom, will allow it to stand.

The first chapter of "At school" had just appeared on Nifty and I received,
along with several flames telling me where I was going to burn, half a
dozen very complimentary e- mails Never believe an author who isn't
thrilled by compliments is my guess. One of these was so enthusiastic,
going into exuberant detail as to the state of his boxers on my reading my
story that I was led, on replying to him to say: "I'm really glad you liked
it and only wish I had been there to share your enjoyment.  Perhaps the
basis for another story."

His reply came two hours later: " Might be fun. Where do you live? Me
London N"

Well indeed it might, but perhaps at this stage I should explain a little
about my own sexuality. After my school years when I was as homosexual as
can be imagined, endless crushes, adventures too numerous to mention, I
went to University and there found girls. They were great fun but harder to
have sex with (you had to talk to them, by and large with boys all you had
to do was show them your prick). So I mixed and matched, then to my
surprise fell hopelessly in love with a girl (suitably androgynous) and got
married.

Fast forward twenty years and we are divorced and I am enjoying relatively
infrequent heterosexual affairs. I haven't felt a man's cock for probably
twenty years, though I have found myself thinking about them more and
more. I would guess at least half my wanking concerned boys.

I thought about Pocketrocket62's response while I was writing the second
chapter and replied to him before posting it on Nifty. "Why not? I'm game-
might be fun. I live in London too. About to post 2. If you are on don't
read it yet.Mark."

His reply was even quicker than before and he gave me his address ( a flat
in Swiss Cottage) and a time that was suitable for him, 11.30 the next
morning.

 I was at his front door on the dot, feeling as nervous as at anytime in my
courting days.  When he opened the door I was immediately impress. Tom was,
I would guess, in his mid-forties, well built, a charming smile and deep
brown eyes.

" Hi,come in. are you sure that we are still on for this"

" I think so. I'm the lucky one I don't have to do anything. Just watch"

"Well, if you think so. I must say I'm looking forward to reading chapter
2. So what do you want to do, or rather what do you want me to do?"

"Just behave as if I wasn't there. I'll sit nearby and just watch."

He shrugged his shoulders. "OK if that's your bag" He led me into his study
and switched on the computer. "There's a chair- or you can use that stool
if you want to be nearer the action. I chose the stool.

He leant forward and signed in, before clicking on the Nifty symbol. "This
is beginning to feel rather silly,"he said.

"if you want to give it a miss."

"No, let's go for it." He undid the catch on his chinos and slid them
off. Off too went the blue and white striped boxers . He sat at the desk
and I looked at his penis, the first penis as a sexual organ, I had seen
for over twenty years. It was still flaccid, uncut with foreskin completely
covering his glans; perhaps five inches long and thicker even at this stage
than my own. His balls dangled over the edge of the chair. As he pressed on
the relevant section with his left hand his right pulled at his cock
eliciting the first sign of interest in it. I felt my own prick rising in
my trousers as I watched him slowly wanking.

At first I could tell he was nervous, what man wouldn't be with another man
sitting about afoot away from him at cock level. Then suddenly " Oh I like
that, I like your boy's cock," and he tugged at his prick pulling the
foreskin over his glans so that I could see it in all its beauty . It was
dark red and beginning to swell as was his cock. Now six, maybe even seven
inches, and strong. His hand moved rhythmically from root to tip, his thumb
circling over his shimmering glans. My own cock longed to be let free, just
as I longed to hold Tom's in my hand, suck it, kiss it.

But that was not part of the deal.

He read on, by now ostensibly oblivious to my presence. "The occasional
groan or "yes, yes" showed that the story was having the desired effect. He
scrolled the mouse down the page and I could see that he was now coming
close to the climax of the episode. For a moment he sat back and released
his hand from his cock which now stood proudly up.

"I'm Liking this," he said, "and it's weirdly great you being there."

"I'm liking it too."

He went back to reading. When a third character entered the story I could
see him squirm and I shifter my stool closer to him and watched in awe as
his hand dashed up and down his length.

I was perhaps less than a foot away and saw his piss slit widen, opening as
if to gulp in air. I saw his hand slow down and grip his shaft tightly. His
glans tightened so that the skin seemed stretched even to bursting
point. Hiss piss slit closed again and then, as he groaned once more a
great silver stream pumped out his cock, his beautiful, huge cock. The
first stream landed on my face, the second on my shirt, the third ,fourth
and fifth who knows where. It seemed as if there no end to it. Each jerk
was accompanied by a low moan, until finally he was silent.

"Wow, that was something else. I must always have an audience. Can you pass
me my boxers please."

I handed them to him and he wiped the spunk off the table the chair and his
stomach.

"I'm afraid you have some on you, sorry about that."

"No problem, only too happy." I took his boxers from him and wiped my
face. "Can I keep these?" I asked. "A memento."

He laughed.

Over a cup of coffee we discussed our pasts, as well as the feelings we had
enjoyed during his wank.

"Do you think you will write about it?" he asked.

"I'm sure I will. I've got other things to do first though."

"Like what"

"Get home and have a fucking great wank."

"I'm not surprised. Well, you've got my boxers for company. But why do you
have to wait till you get home. Have it here, could be the coup de grace of
the story."

I couldn't think of a reason why not and his mere suggestion had made my
cock start to stir inside my trousers.

"I suppose I could."

"Feel free. I'll leave you in peace."

"Actually I would quite like it if you stayed."

I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my half hard cock.

"Nice," he said, " do you want me to give you a hand?"

"No thanks, but I would like to see yours again."

He had put on a dressing gown after his wank and now he pulled it open to
reveal his own prick that seemed to have recovered its hardness. I moved
forward and, for the first time, held its wonderful warmth in my hand. I
moved my hand up and down the smooth shaft revealing again the glans penis.

I wanked my own penis hard as I asked him:" Can I suck it please?"

 "I wish you would."  I brought the head closer to my lips felt it push my
lips apart and as it did so I recalled all the delights of my youth. The
sweet, salty warmth of his glans poured into my mouth and my mind bringing
back the countless penises I had enjoyed since childhood. I felt him push
inside me and as he did so caught the taste of the spunk he had ejaculated
earlier. I wanted all of him as I wanted him to know how much pleasure he
was giving me. I pulled harder at my cock, remembering his cock erupting
only a short time before, his cock covering me with his juices, his perfect
essence.

I felt the ripples rising up my shaft and I knew I was home again.