Date: Mon, 3 Apr 2017 15:10:42 +0000 (UTC)
From: c m <nesteuk@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Mark and me: Part 1

The usual disclaimers apply here. The story contains sex between teenage
boys.  If you don't like that, or if you are under age where you're reading
this, leave now.

This is fiction. No one in this story is real and any resemblance to actual
people or events is completely coincidental.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any commercial use is prohibited
without my express permission. Personal or private copies are permitted
only if complete including the copyright notice.

Finally, I would welcome any comments you have to give. If you want to take
the time to email me please feel free to at nesteuk@yahoo.co.uk.

I hope you all enjoy the story.


Mark and me

      It all started after a pick-up game of football one Sunday
afternoon. The way of it was that you played until you had had enough, then
just dropped out and one of those waiting - there were always a few - would
take your place.

      As I left the field, Mark, a good-looking boy in my house the year
below me, ran past and said 'Keep a space in the bath for me'.

      I should explain. The changing rooms were as they had been for
years. In our house, The Grange, they consisted of a changing area full of
pegs and shoe lockers where we kept our kit, with a doorway leading through
into a massive square, stone-floored washroom. The washroom contained a row
of sinks along one wall and three large baths, one of which had an elderly,
and not very effective, shower head bolted to the wall above it along the
opposite wall. There were hooks to hang towels on the third wall. Bathing
protocol was long- established. It was generally accepted that each bath -
and they were big - could hold two or even three boys at once. It was all a
question of what you did with your feet.

      The custom was not to fill the second, or third, bath until at least
two people were using the first or second one. It saved on hot water. It
was permissible, once the water got sufficiently dirty from the passage
through it of dirty legs, hands and faces, for one boy to pull himself to
the tap end and then propel himself backwards to empty a wave of water over
the floor, whence it gurgled down a central drain in the floor. The bath
was then refilled with clean, hot water to the level that two boys, sitting
in it, would bring to the top of the bath.  This resulted in a hot, if
still somewhat opaque, liquid which would be fit for the next eight or so
occupants.

      When I got to the changing room, one bath was already filled and
occupied by my friend Andy and Dave, a boy from another house, with whom he
had been playing squash.  There was nothing unusual in this; the rules
about which changing room you used after sport were relaxed on Sundays,
although for the rest of the week, boys were permitted only to use the
facilities of their own house. I waved a greeting at them and went over to
the third bath (which was a little bigger than the other two) and turned on
the taps. A satisfying wave of steam came up as it filled rapidly. Whatever
the age of the system, there was no denying that it produced a lot of very
hot water and the taps were giant affairs that delivered it hard and fast.
      I wandered back into the adjoining changing room and stripped off my
kit. My boots went back in their locker under my peg, and my shirt and
shorts and jock into the canvas bag hanging from the peg above. My socks
needed a wash and I put them into the laundry bin in the corner of the
room. I grabbed my towel, held it loosely round my waist, and went back
into the washroom just in time to turn off the taps which had now done
their job of filling the bath to within nine inches of the top. I hung my
towel up, walked over to the bath, stepped over the side of it and sank
into the welcoming embrace of the hot water. Only then did I begin to think
about what Mark had said as I left the game. Maybe it meant nothing and he
was just saying he'd be back soon and would be needing a bath. But why
'keep a space'? I shook my head. Who could tell.

      Now I'm no angel. I have all the hormones a normal healthy seventeen
year old ought to have coursing through my system. And it was an all-boys
school. The inevitable outcome was that, having discovered the joys of
wanking at twelve, by fifteen I had discovered that even more pleasure was
to be had from doing it with someone else. Mutual masturbation was pretty
normal - and that's all it was. You did it with someone of your own age who
was a wank buddy rather than a friend. And there was no more to it than
that. Johnny had been my wank buddy since the end of the first year when we
discovered we both wanted the same thing, and we would usually find a way
to do it a couple of times a week. Except for those terms when we were put
in the same dorm - which had happened three times - at which point it
happened pretty much every night. This term, however, was different. Johnny
had had a serious accident during the holidays and wasn't due back for at
least another eight weeks - and probably not until next term. And I was now
missing him like hell.

      Mark floated back into my mind. Despite the fact that we were in
different years, we both played hockey for the school first XI - Mark was a
precociously talented player - and, as is the way of these things, him
being the youngster of the team and us being in the same house, we had got
to know each other quite well the previous term; he often sat next to me as
we travelled to away matches, and chose to change next to me. I had thought
that this was just the comfort of knowing me better than the other boys at
the time....but maybe there was more to it than that. He had also, by
chance, chosen the same A-levels as me and being a year ahead, I had helped
him out with questions and some of the notes from the previous year. As we
became friends, it even turned out that we liked the same music.

      He had been a good-looking boy when he came to the school three years
earlier, and had got more and more striking as he matured. Mousey brown
hair, but electric blue eyes, great bone structure and a really nice
smile. OK, so he was in the year below me, but that was just about OK as we
were more or less the same age. I was young for my year and he was old for
his. An accident of birth date.  I stopped. 'OK'? OK for what? I had to
admit that I was mentally thinking about him as a replacement for Johnny -
and my body was clearly way ahead of me - as my thickening cock proved. I
hastily started washing myself with the hard, slightly gritty soap that the
school provided, which turned the water opaque and hid my potential
embarrassment. I needed to get a grip. What on earth was I thinking about.
Fortunately, my reverie was broken as Andy asked me a question which took
us into a discussion. My incipient erection disappeared and everything was
back to normal.

      The weather outside had been cold and, after ten minutes in the hot
water, the heat from the bath was only soaking slowly through my
bones. Sitting in a bath for forty minutes or more was nothing unusual on a
Sunday - there was precious little else to do on those long, dark winter
afternoons. Then I heard the sound of someone entering the changing room
and, a couple of minutes later, Mark appeared. He had slung his towel over
his shoulder rather than wrapping it around his waist, and, looking at him,
I had to admit that he had a pretty good body to go with those looks. Of
course, I'd seen him naked before - every boy in the house must have seen
all the others naked hundreds of times (barring one or two very shy boys
who did all they could to retain their modesty) - but I had to admit I was
taking more of an interest than I usually did.

      He hung his towel on the peg next to mine, walked over, and climbed
into the bath. I had opted for the 'tap' end, and he sat down opposite me,
and leaned back, the water coming up to around halfway up his chest. In
line with protocol, my legs were together on one side and his were on the
other under the water. Inevitably, they were touching slightly - but that
too was perfectly normal.

      'Thanks for keeping a space for me'. He smiled. I shrugged - but
smiled back.

      What happened next was not in the protocol. Mark moved his right leg,
which had been lightly laying against mine, over both it and my left
leg. This left both my legs between his, although still a respectable foot
or so from his groin. Then he started to slide slowly down the back of the
bath, the water getting closer and closer to his chin.  It was decision
time. My head screamed at me to be careful. My body was telling me,
urgently, that this was Mark's decision and that I should just go with
it. I caved in. I turned my right foot sideways until it lay on the inside
of his left thigh and moved it an inch or two up and down. Mark smiled,
closed his eyes, and slid further down. His chin touched the water, and his
balls touched my foot. I pressed my toes forward, encountering the base of
his - clearly extremely hard - cock. Pretending that the taps were awkward
on my back, I shifted myself forward an inch or two, enabling me to run my
foot up the length of his erection. Mark emitted a low sigh. I decided that
it was time to use the soap. It slipped - almost accidentally - out of my
hand and down between Mark's legs. I reached down to find it, taking the
opportunity to wrap my hand round his cock and give it a couple of
strokes. Then I found the soap, leaned back, and began to use it under my
armpits. Reaching down to wash the soap off, I took hold of his left leg
and put it over my right one, bringing his foot just a whisker away from my
own groin. I inched forward until I could feel the sole of his foot against
me. I saw his eyebrows momentarily flicker upwards. I smiled.

      'What the fuck are you two doing?' I looked across and saw Dave
staring pointedly at me. I guess our respective movements had not been
quite as discreet as I had hoped.

      'I'm having a bath. What are you doing?'

      'You're disgusting. Fucking perverts.'

      Now I'm a mild-mannered guy. Normally I would have backed off - but
something snapped. Dave was a jerk.

      'Chill out. You telling me you never wank? That you never do it with
someone else? I bet Andy would love you to wank him off. Ask him.'

      'Fuck off, Chris', said Andy - but in a conversational, rather than
offended, way.

      'I'm not sitting here while you do that'. Dave heaved himself out of
the bath, stamped over to his towel and stalked out of the washroom.

      Dave's head appeared back in the doorway. 'Are you coming Andy? You
don't approve of what those perverts are doing do you?'

      Andy looked across at me and shrugged. He stood up, stepped out of
the bath and walked over to his towel. I noticed two things. First, he
hadn't said a word, and second, his cock looked rather thicker and longer
than it had last time I had seen it. I filed the information away in my
mind and turned my concentration back to Mark.

      'That was amazing - what you said to him. I was embarrassed and
already to protest. '

      'Dave's a tosser - literally. And Andy's a good friend. No...,' I
said, seeing Mark about to say something, 'not like that. Just a
friend. He'll be cool with us.'

      Mark smiled. 'Well, I'm pleased he's gone, because I've been wanting
to do this with you for a long time.'

      'Really?'

      'Yes, really.'

      'I didn't know. Well, usually I have...someone else...to help me
out. God, I don't mean that like it sounds, it's not that you're second
best or anything, I...'

      'Yeah. It's Johnny. I know.'

      'You know?'

      Then I thought, heck, everyone probably knew about me and Johnny - it
wasn't like we made any secret of it.

      He nodded. 'It's OK. It's cool. And....well...Johnny...umm... helped
me out a couple of times last term, and I asked him who else he did it with
and he said you so I thought maybe since he isn't here it would be OK to
take his place as we...well...kinda... have you in common, and like I say,
I've wanted this for a long time so...'

      I sat back to absorb what he had said. 'You and Johnny huh?' and then
the funny side struck me. And then the fact that he was a whole lot
better-looking than Johnny. And my body was definitely saying yes.

      'Oh hell, why not. So, let's see what you've got. Stand up - back to
the door just in case. I want a good close-up look.'

      Mark smiled again and slowly stood up, body bent over at first to
hide his groin. Then he straightened up and I got my first, proper look at
him in all his glory. I realised that he was, indeed, very
good-looking. Very, very good-looking. Sexy in fact. Sexy? Did I really
just use that word? Guess I did. Up close I could also see that he had a
really good, firm chest and stomach with the very early beginnings of a
six-pack.  He was smooth except for a little hair under his arms and a
tight, tidy mass of pubic hair below which his cock was jutting out.  It
was pink like the rest of his skin - hardly darker at all - with a blue
vein running up the underside. Not long, not short. Not fat, not thin. Just
an average, uncircumcised cock.

      'Very nice. I think we should get back to where we were.'

      He sat back down. We topped up the water and proceeded to gently wank
each other off with our feet and then our hands. I could feel myself
getting close.

       'I'm gonna cum Mark'.

      'Me too. Let's go for it'.

      Seconds later two strings of white were floating up through the water
as we climaxed within seconds of each other.

      'God Chris, that was fantastic.'

      'Yeah, it was good Mark. Enjoyed it.' I paused. I knew what I wanted
and now wasn't the time to hold back. 'Wanna go again? Somewhere
more....private?'

      Mark's eyes sparkled. 'Wow. Umm... yes please.'

      'OK, let's make sure the evidence disappears down the plughole then
we better go get some clothes on'.

      We emptied the bath, ensuring that the evidence was all washed away
and headed for the changing room. There was no-one around as we towelled
ourselves dry. Mark reached across and put his hand between my legs.

      'Not here.'

      'Yes, here.'
       So I stood th ere, towel around my shoulders, as Mark went to work
on me. I could both feel and see the blood pumping back into my cock as it
jerked itself upright, but then we heard the unmistakeable sounds of
someone coming along the corridor so hurriedly pulled on shirts and pants,
with a respectable distance between us, as another one of the footballers
tramped back into the room.

      'Good game?' I asked.

      Peter, another boy in my year with whom I was friendly,
nodded. 'Yeah. We missed your touch though. Is the water hot?'

      'Certainly is - though you'll need to run a fresh bath. The one on
this end is stone cold and I emptied mine - full of mud'.

      'Okay, see you later'

      Mark had left the changing room during this exchange, and as I went
out into the corridor, I wondered where he had gone. He had got me, I had
to admit, all fired up. Johnny and I didn't often wank off twice in a row -
although we had done so - but I definitely wanted another round with
Mark. Right now.

      As I passed the JCR, Mark slipped out. We smiled at each
other. 'So...where do we go?' he asked.

      A slightly wicked thought crossed my mind. 'Well, where did you do it
with Johnny?'

      Mark giggled. 'I'll show you'.

      As we walked down the corridor, a thought occurred to me.

      `So who's your usual wank-buddy, Mark?'

      `Fergus Attwell.'

      I nodded. Fergus was a boy in the same year as Mark. I didn't know
him well, but he was a generally nice guy, not bad-looking – and a
useful cricketer.

      We walked across the quad to the main block that housed classrooms
and the School House changing rooms on the ground floor. Studies for the
fifth formers occupied the first floor and there were dormitories above
that. But Mark took me along the ground floor corridor to a door which led
down to the boiler room that supplied the heating and hot water for that
block.

      The basement had a number of locked doors going off it before ending
in the boiler room itself. I assumed that that was where we were going (it
was somewhere I had used with Johnny), but to my surprise, Mark produced a
key and opened one of the locked doors.

      'Where the heck did you get that?'

      'Johnny got it. I don't know how exactly, but he did. I keep it safe
in the JCR - that was what I was getting while you were talking. You want
to do it where Johnny and I did it. I had the same thought. Guess I'm as
wicked as you.'

      I was really starting to like Mark. 'You little devil. Come on then.'

      The door opened into a pair of small rooms connected by an open
doorway. In the second room were a collection of old chairs, desks and
discarded gym equipment including some mats. Mark pulled a couple of the
mats out and put them on the floor.  The atmosphere was warm - presumably
from the boiler room next door - and there was light from a weak, naked
bulb in the ceiling.

      I wondered why Johnny had never brought me here. It was as though he
could read my thoughts.  'If you're wondering why Johnny never brought you
here, he only found the key to this place at the end of last term. He told
me he was looking forward to doing it down here with you - especially if
you weren't in the same dorm'.

      'So how many times have you been down here with him?'

      'Just once. It was while you were away on that week's hockey tour
when I was injured'.

      Fair enough, I supposed. After all, I was about to do pretty much the
same thing in the absence of my regular buddy. I looked around the room,
taking in what else was there.  Obviously some kind of store room. Didn't
look like anyone had been down here (on legitimate business anyway) for a
while. I turned back round to find that Mark was naked except for his
undies.

       'Clothes off, huh?'

       'Why not. It's warm, we have mats, less risk of making a mess on our
clothes.' He giggled again. 'C'mon, get 'em off'.

      I stripped slowly, enjoying the fresh and unexpected pleasure that it
was undoubtedly giving me of being watched by another boy who clearly
wanted me at least as much as I wanted him. Down to my briefs, I slipped
them off, revealing my arousal. Mark went to take his pants off, but I
stopped him, holding his arms.

      'Allow me'.

      I wasn't quite sure what had come over me, it was not something I had
ever done - or thought about doing - before, but I knew that I wanted to be
the one who revealed this boy's nakedness. I pulled the front of his pants
forward to get them over his erection, slid them down his legs and threw
them onto the rest of our pile of clothes.

      I was feeling things I hadn't felt and didn't understand, but I knew
that I wanted to pull him to me and hold him. So I did. I felt his hands
close round my back, pulling our groins tightly into each other. Then he
leant forward and kissed me. It was so unexpected my head shot backwards. I
could see fear in his eyes.

       'I'm so sorry.. I shouldn't have...'

      'No, no...it's OK...I...I...I liked it. I just...it's just...I
didn't...I haven't...this...well...this isn't what I've done with Johnny.'

      'Me neither. We just wanked off. But you make me feel different. You
always have.  It's why I've been wanting you so much. I didn't know how. I
didn't see how we could. And then ...'

      I held him at arms' length. 'And then Johnny. Did you use Johnny to
get to me?'

      He was trembling now. This sweet boy was trembling. He nodded
miserably before whispering, so that I could barely hear him,

      'Yes, I wanted you so badly. I thought maybe, after he and I had done
it together a few times, that I could persuade Johnny that we could all
three wank off together - that way at least I would have a bit of you. But
when he didn't come back this term, I thought it was a gift from
heaven. I'm so sorry.'

      I lifted his head up so our eyes met. Those perfect blue eyes were
full of tears.

      'It's OK Mark. You have nothing to be sorry for. I don't know what
the hell's happening, but I'm feeling things I never felt before. Don't get
me wrong, I still want to wank with you - over and over and over, in
fact. But I think there's more. Stuff I never felt with Johnny. That
kiss. It's never even crossed my mind to kiss Johnny. But I think I want to
kiss you.'

      And with that I put my hands either side of his head and pulled his
lips to mine. We kissed. And then kissed again.

      I felt his arms pulling me down and we first knelt and then lay on
one of the old, musty mats. Our hands found each other and we stroked each
other gently at first and then with growing passion until, with a moan,
Mark came. I was only a few seconds behind him.  We lay there, silent,
unspeaking, gathering our breath, panting from our exertions. He turned his
head and looked at me.

      'That was amazing' he said. You make me cum like I've never cum
before. And that was number two. You make me feel so good, Chris, you have
no idea.'

      'You make me feel good too, Mark. Really, really good. Like I've
never felt before in fact.'

      And that was the truth. I knew, deep down inside, that something was
very, very different. This wasn't how wank buddies felt about each other.

      We lay there looking into each other's eyes, exchanging little kisses
for maybe five, maybe ten minutes. Time seemed somehow to collapse. I
stroked his hair, pushing it away out of his eyes. To my great surprise, I
felt my loins stirring again.

      'Fancy going for number three?' I asked.

      'Now who's the little devil?' He laughed. `Mmm....let's go for it.'

      It took longer this time. A lot longer. Partly because we had come
twice already, but mostly because this time we took our time. I sat on his
knees and we took it in turns to hold both of our cocks together against
each other, stroking one another to a climax. We cleaned up using a
handkerchief in my pocket - we christened it our Wanky Hanky - and it
stayed with us every time we wanked off - which was often - for the rest of
term.

      We dressed, kissed again and agreed that we needed to be
careful. What we had done was common - but how we felt was not. You didn't
'have feelings' for a wank buddy. It was just relief. But I knew that that
wasn't how I felt about Mark, and it was evident that he certainly didn't
feel that way about me. In public, we needed to be friendly but nothing
more.  In private, we met as often as we could over the next four weeks,
every couple of days in fact, and grew progressively closer and closer. And
I found myself thinking about him. A lot.

      By the end of term, Mark and I knew that we had feelings for each
other that went way beyond being wank buddies or even just good friends.
The thought of not seeing each other over the vacation was not one that
either of us viewed with any pleasure. So we set to thinking about how we
might meet up.