Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2015 17:00:59 +0100
From: tpickles <tpickles2@gmail.com>
Subject: Toby - Chapter 1

This is the first chapter of a new novel for the Gay/Adult-Youth section.

This is an erotic novel about gay relationships between a teenage youth and
various other men. It is a work of fiction and written for my own
entertainment.

This novel differs from my other writings on similar themes. Firstly, I
want to write it from the perspective of the main character, a teenage boy
called Toby. Secondly, I want to experiment with `cross-over' writing in
which the characters in this novel interact with the male characters in
another novel published on Nifty. In this case, Toby will be meeting up
with Tom, Boy and other guys from the established Boy series (which you can
follow at http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/boy-series/.
Where the cross-overs happen, you'll be able to read the same story from
two different perspectives: from Toby's experience in this novel, and from
Tom and Boy's experience in the Boy Series. I hope you enjoy this twist!

In this first chapter, I'm setting the scene around Toby.


CHAPTER 1

Hi. My name's Toby. I'm a typical English teenager. Well I think so anyway,
although if someone else were to read this journal they might not agree.

This is my secret journal. I'm keeping it hidden in a secret place because
I don't want other people to read it and know this stuff about me. Well not
yet anyway. What I'm writing is personal about me and the stuff I think
about, the people I meet and hang out with, and the things I do – or want
to do. I'm writing it just for myself. Like all journals, I want to keep a
record of what's happening and what I feel about it at the time. Then when
I look back in a year or two, or when I'm older maybe, I can see what's
changed in my life and how I've grown up as I become more experienced. I
guess most of it will be like a history of the stuff that's happening to me
in my life. And some of it might be the stuff that's not happening for real
in the world, but is going on in my head – like my dreams, fantasies, and
imagination. I sometimes think my imagination is more exciting than my real
life!

And, in case you've found my hidden journal, `Toby' might not be my real
name. Just so you know.

Before I get going with what's happening in my life right now, I want to
write some stuff about my growing up and my life before this journal begins
– like my back-story.

I was born in a small village near York in the north of England. My mum was
24 and my dad was 23 when I was born. They had met at college and both had
quite good jobs. My mum worked in a bank, and my dad was an engineer at a
company in York. I think they were pretty excited when I came along as the
third person in their new family. I was born just ten months after they
were married, so I think mum and dad must have been going at it a lot.
Maybe that's where I get some of my randiness from.

I don't remember much about my very early life. I can remember playing on
the beach one summer and paddling in the water, but I don't remember where
the beach was. I remember the excitement at Christmas, with the tree and
the decorations, and lots of people coming to the house, and a table full
of food, and getting lots of attention from everyone. And I remember being
somewhere – I don't know where – it was indoors, and there were a lot of
guys there, maybe friends or colleagues of my dad, and they didn't take
much notice of me, but I remember looking up at them and wondering what
they were all doing, and wanting these guys to play with me and let me into
their adult game.

So that was what I remember about being a baby. I started going to school
when I was four. Not much to say about it really. Pretty much what every
other kid does. It seemed ok at the time. I think we had a pretty normal
family life – mum and dad at work, school for me, playing with other kids,
visits by my grandparents, treats at the weekend, a holiday in the summer.

Then when I was eight it all changed. I can remember the day it all
happened. I think my mum and dad had been arguing more, but I didn't know
what about. It just seemed more awkward at home. And my grandparents came
around more. Then one day I came home from school and my dad was waiting
for me in the house. Up to then it had always been my mum who worked
part-time at the bank so she could be around when school finished. This was
definitely unusual and I knew something had happened.

I asked dad where mum was and what he was doing home early. He sat me down
and got me a drink. He looked very serious, and his face was red like he'd
been crying. My dad never cried. He told that that he would be looking
after me for a time on his own, and that sometimes his mum and dad would be
helping. I wanted to know where mum was. He said that sometimes mums and
dads didn't always get on so well, and that it was best if they had some
time apart. Mum had gone to live somewhere else. He told me that mum still
loved me, but for the moment it was just going to be the two of us.

I cried. I know I'm supposed to be a big boy by now, but I cried. I
couldn't imagine my life without my mum. She'd always been there. I loved
my dad a lot as well, but it was different with him – kind of more a manly
thing.

Actually, I discovered more about what had happened over the next year or
two. I did see my mother when I went to visit her on a few weekends, but it
was never the same. She was living with another man and they had a house
together in Bristol, so it was miles away. And this new man had three
children already. I learned that they'd had `an affair' – which means that
they'd been having sex together when mum was living with dad. I said before
that my parents seemed to like that stuff. Maybe she just needed more of it.

Anyway, dad and I lived together in our house. It was pretty good really.
Although he was working, he tried to get home early each evening. And he
made arrangements with my grandparents and with a couple of neighbours to
take care of me if I was going to be on my own for long. The school
holidays were more difficult, so he let me go off to youth camps and other
places with organised groups. I really like that. I got to go swimming,
climbing and hiking with other kids. Sometimes I was sharing a tent with
two or three other boys. We'd muck about together – just play fighting
mainly, but at night sometimes we'd check each other out and compare how we
were growing up. That was fun – but not a lot actually happened. We just
knew we had to keep quiet about it and not let the adults discover us. So
we didn't make any noise in the tent.

Then when I was eleven, dad got a new job and had to travel a whole lot
more to visit places on work. Often he was away for two or three nights at
a time. To begin with, I would sleep-over at friends' houses, or my gran
would come and stay, but after a couple of months of this dad said it was
too difficult to keep arranging this and that we needed to find a different
arrangement.

He must have been earning a whole lot more money in this new job. He asked
me if I would be willing to go to a school in York where the kids could
also live for some of the time. It was called `weekly boarding'. You got
dropped at the school on a Monday morning, did the lessons during the day,
and some clubs and sports after school, then slept in a dormitory with your
mates, and on Friday afternoon got picked up to go home again.

I wasn't sure about this, but I could see that it was difficult for dad
too. He said it might be like the summer camps I'd enjoyed, where you get
to spend lots of time with your friends camping, and there were lots of
organised activities in the evenings. So after we talked about it some
more, I agreed to give it a try.

Later that week, dad took me to see the school. It was a school for boys
only. The youngest kid was just nine, and the oldest ones were studying for
their A-levels. The teachers there had arranged for a couple of the boys to
show us around the place. The classrooms were just like the ones we had at
my school. There was a big sports field for football, rugby, cricket and
hockey. They had an indoor swimming pool which looked great. The boys
explained that after lessons, we could use the sports facilities and the
gym, and that we could go into the art-room, and use the TV lounges.
Sometimes they had films, and some of the teachers organised things like
drama, music and even dance. This all sounded pretty good and I was quite
excited by it. There was a big dining room where everyone ate, but these
two boys said the food was not like cooking at home. Then they took us
upstairs to see the bedrooms. Most of the rooms had four beds with
cupboards for your clothes. There were smaller single rooms where some of
the older boys slept and they were supposed to look after the younger ones.
After my experience at camp, I wondered if anything like that happened in
the boys' bedrooms – but I didn't dare ask.

One of the boys – Len – was really nice. He was about my age or maybe a
year older. He was very friendly and kept asking me questions. He said that
if I did come to the school, he'd help me make friends with some of his
mates.

Dad and I went home and talked about the school. I didn't greatly like the
idea of being away from him and home – although being with the other boys
might be fun. He promised me that we would make up for our time apart by
doing lots of things together at the weekends and in the holidays. So I
said I would give it a try.

And that's how I started at this boarding school at the beginning of the
next term. And that's where I started to discover all about sex.



When I arrived at the school on the first day when I was to stay over for
the week, Len met me and showed me where to put my stuff. He'd made sure
that we would be in the same dormitory with a couple of other boys around
our age. I had to put my clothes in the locker next to my bed. Most of the
clothes were to wear during the school day, but I'd also brought jeans and
tee-shirts and stuff to wear after school was finished. I also had another
locker in the changing rooms where I kept my sports kit.

The school was good and over the next two or three years I learned a lot.
The classes were quite small, so the teaching could be quite personal and
interesting. I seemed to learn a lot faster than in my previous school near
home.

I loved sports – particularly gym, swimming and football. There were sports
sessions in the timetable for my class, and there was lots of opportunity
to play sports after school. During the summer months with the long evening
light, I often played football and cricket; I was part of a couple of teams
that played against other schools. In the darker months, I used the indoor
gym more, either to stay fit and build my strength and muscles, or to play
indoor five-aside games with other kids. Because the pool was indoors and
heated, we could use it right through the year.

Of course, in an all boys school, there was lots of talk about sex. That's
what I started to really like about the school. Many of the boys were
talking about girls and what they'd `done', but I didn't really believe
most of them. Because I was sharing a dormitory and playing sports a lot,
there were masses of opportunity to check out the other boys. I could write
about lots of times when things happened – like jacking off together, or
exploring stuff together, but that's all happened before I started writing
this journal, and I want to get onto the stuff that's happening now – or
that I want to make happen now. So looking back at my time as a `weekly
boarder', I'll just summarise the most important things that happened to me
during those years, and what I discovered about myself as a grew up.


(1)
The first thing is that I grew up. When I started at the school I was still
a boy, and I didn't know anything about doing sex stuff. I think puberty
started almost as soon as I arrived at the school. I didn't know much about
it at the time, but I noticed other boys were different to me, and then I
heard all about the physical changes that were happening in our bodies. To
begin with I started to grow; more than two inches in a couple of months.
Dad had to buy me a whole lot of new trousers and jeans. My voice started
to break and become deeper; when we were singing in school I didn't know
whether to sing high or sing low; it was weird at first. There was hair
growing on my body – in my armpits and then around my cock; I liked that,
as I started to grow hair before most of the other boys in my class. The
baby-fat that I had as a boy began to change as my body filled out a bit. I
noticed my thighs and arms getting bigger, and I began to feel some muscles
in my shoulders and legs. This is when I started using the gym a whole lot
more. I really liked it when my body began to fill out. I wanted to get in
shape, so I played lots of sports, and used the exercise machines in the
gym to build my muscles.

(2)
The second thing is that I discovered I liked cock. I can write that here
because this is my private journal. In the dormitory and in the changing
rooms, I liked sneaking a look at what the other boys looked like. The
showers were great in the changing rooms because there were a dozen shower
heads in one big wet-room and I could see all the other boys naked in the
steam. I was amazed by the variety on show. When I first started at the
school, my class was still quite immature and most of the boys had little
cocks and small tight balls. Then over the next year or two, I could see
them sprouting hair, and their balls began to drop into testicle sacks, and
their cocks got bigger. Sometimes a boy couldn't stop getting an erection
in the shower or the changing rooms and I watched as he tried to cover
himself quickly. Most boys had a foreskin, but one or two were circumcised
for different reasons, like coming from a Jewish or Muslim family. As I
grew older and watched the other boys growing up, what amazed me was the
different shapes and sizes. There were tiny cocks and big ones, fat ones
and thin ones, long droopy foreskins and tight ones, hairy balls and smooth
ones, sticky-out cocks and hanging down ones, cocks that bent to the left
and others that bent upwards. I used the changing rooms in the evening to
check out boys from other classes, and when we were playing football
matches against other schools, I always had a good look to see what was
different.

Of course, I paid a lot of attention to what was happening to my own cock
in these years. Like I said before, I started developing quite early, and
was growing pubes before most of the other boys in my class. As my body
grew taller, my cock grew longer. By the time I was fourteen my balls were
filling out their sack and I had a pretty impressive dick – reasonably
long, and it hung over my balls nicely. I'd been cut when I was a small
boy, so my cock-head was on show all the time. I don't know why my dad had
me circumcised; I must ask him sometime; but I know that he's cut too.
Anyway, I liked the look of my purple helmet on display. I liked to keep it
clean so it always got plenty of soap in the showers. Some of the other
boys with tight foreskins didn't find this so easy to do and I sometimes
you could see a cheesy crud building up inside their cock. Yuk!

And it didn't take me long at school to discover what I could do with my
dick.

(3)
So the third thing is that I discovered the pleasure of sex with my cock.
At night in our dormitory of four boys, we sometimes liked to show each
other our dicks. This is where I first started to compare them. Of course,
some boys got hard, and then we began to compare sizes. For several months,
Len kept a chart of who was biggest and longest. I usually won that
competition! And then one of the boys told us all about jacking off and we
each started to experiment. In the first year at this school, some of my
dormitory buddies could only dry-cum, but I very quickly found myself
getting wet. The first time I shot some cum was amazing. This feeling
started inside me, my cock became very hard and hot, and then this sense of
something rising up from deep inside me that shot out of the helmet of my
cock and landed on my belly. All the other boys came across to look at it.
After that, we all tried to cum frequently. When I was at home at the
weekends, I had long jacking off sessions in my bedroom where no-one could
see me. I tried different ways of holding my cock and rubbing it, to see
what felt good. I put extra shower gel on it when I was wanking in the
bathroom. I tried to put my head down to my cock, but I couldn't bend far
enough. I loved the feeling of being hard and I would feel myself during
the daytime with a hand in my trouser pocket. I got a great thrill from
walking down the corridor or the street with a hard-on inside my trousers.
When I went to the gym in the evening, lying on the bench with my legs
apart, or pressing weights, I could feel my cock in my shorts start to
grow. If I was on my own, I let it become a full erection, knowing that I
could wank it in the toilets. If there were other boys in the gym I had to
be more careful, and it depended on who they were as to whether I could let
it show.

I had a lot of sex on my own, but I also found some other boys who seemed
to like cock too. One was my friend Len. If we went to the gym together,
and one of us got hard, we would go to the showers or the toilet and jack
off together. I loved watching him cum. There was Marky who was a little
younger than me. After I'd checked him out a few times, I realised he was
quite an exhibitionist. In the changing rooms he liked to take his trousers
and pants off first, and not put any of his kit on until he was completely
naked. He caught me looking at him a few times. After that, whenever we
were changing together, he turned towards me and did his striptease show
for my benefit. One time we went together and he asked me if I wanted to
undress him. I did, and he let me take his clothes off until he was naked.
That was pretty exciting. After that we found other opportunities to
undress each other in private. We would both get hard during the strip
session, and start jacking off. He liked the size of my cock and asked if
he could wank it for me. That made me cum pretty quick. For the next couple
of years we wanked each other. Sometimes I would get the chance to play
with other boys. Len would let me wank him with his eyes closed, but he
didn't want to do me so I had to make myself cum afterwards. I loved this
time at school and explored a lot more at home in private, looking on the
internet for sexy pictures of other boys and men doing stuff together.

(4)
My fourth discovery was that I particularly liked looking at older boys.
When I was searching the internet in my bedroom at home, I always clicked
on the pictures of older lads and men. I wanted to check out their cocks
and compare them to mine. I loved to watch them shoot. And if they were
playing together, I was fascinated by what they were doing to each other. I
watched some guys with girls, but that didn't really interest me – except
to watch the guy's cock as he pushed it into places. I saw some hot stuff
and it usually gave me a big boner to jerk.

Back at school, I started to check out the older boys. I watched the older
teams playing football on the pitch and imagined what was hanging in their
shorts. I hung around in the changing rooms afterwards waiting to check out
their tackle. I fantasised about what they would look like hard, and how it
would be to hold them. I started to notice their backsides. From then on, I
became fascinated by bums. In these older boys, their bums were more filled
out with firm muscle; they often had a line of hair running down their
cracks. I wanted to squeeze their bum-cheeks to feel what they were like. I
imagined running my fingers down their crack from behind, and then holding
their balls-sack between their legs. In the gym, I began doing exercises
that I thought would develop my ass muscles. And sometimes when I was
wanking, I would rub my ass-cheeks and run my fingers up and down the
crack, touching my hole. It made me even more excited. I remember one time
after an older boys match, deliberately coming out of the gym at the same
time, so I could share their shower. I stood amongst these lads and gave
myself a good soaping. A couple of the lads were watching me; one of them
seemed impressed and told me I had a good sized cock for my age. But
nothing actually happened between us.  Once I realised how strong this
desire was, I sometimes deliberately went in to public toilets and took a
long time standing at the urinal, just so I could look left and right and
catch a glimpse of other men's cocks.

I sometimes wondered about the teachers at our school. There were some
younger looking teachers, perhaps in their twenties. I would look at their
crotch in lessons and imagine what it might be like to strip them down. I
noticed how one of the gym teachers used to hang around in the changing
rooms whilst we were getting dressed or undressed. He was good-looking and
I sometimes fantasised about him when I was wanking. He seemed to like
watching us change and go in and out of the showers. Then when were mostly
dressed, he would disappear into his own private changing room. I often
imagined following him in there.


Those are the headlines about what I learned at my school from the age of
11-12. That all happened before I started writing this journal. Then when I
was fifteen, it all changed again.

I was at home from school one weekend and my dad had taken me out for the
day. We'd been doing some mountain-biking on rough tracks through forests
and over the moors. He couldn't be bothered to cook that evening, so we
went out to a restaurant for a meal. When the food came, he told me he had
something to discuss with me. Usually he asked me for my views on things
before he made big decisions that would affect either of us.

He said that he'd been promoted a couple of times at work, where business
was really good. His company now had operations in several other countries.
There was a vacancy for a chief engineer at their plant in Thailand which
was jointly run with a local company out there. The company wanted him to
move out there and oversee all the engineering operations because of his
experience. This was a big opportunity for him in his career, and he wanted
to do it.

I thought he was going to tell me that I would have to start boarding right
through the week and not see him except for some holidays. Or maybe, I was
going to have to move and live with his parents in future. I certainly
didn't want that.

But no. He must have seen me looking unhappy at these prospects. He smiled
at me and leaned forward towards me. "How do you fancy living with me in
Thailand for the next few years?"  I was gob-smacked. I didn't know what to
say. This had just happened out of the blue. Dad told me that I'd already
lost my mother and he didn't want us to be separated like that. He wanted
us to be together especially as he was a bit worried about living in a
strange country. So he'd checked with the company and they were fine for
him to move out to Thailand and bring his family – meaning me! They
provided all their senior British employees with a proper house to live in.
They would help with school fees out there so that I would continue to get
a good education in English. They would pay for flights each year for us to
come to England on holiday. The house would have what he called a `maid' –
someone who looked after it, did the shopping, and made some of the meals.
This would mean that I could live at home all the time and just travel to
school for the day – no more boarding.

And that's how I came to live in Thailand with my dad and begin a whole new
chapter in my life. That's where this journal really begins.

........................ To be continued in Chapter 2 .................

(c) Tom Pickles, 2015
You can read the evolving story of Boy and Tom (who will meet Toby soon) at
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/boy-series/

Let me know your reactions at tpickles2@gmail.com.

And please support Nifty to keep publishing at http://donate.nifty.org/.