Date: Mon, 06 Mar 2000 00:16:43 +0000
From: Alexander <javu35@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Gareth's Story. Part 1 (of 3)

This fictional story contains scenes of consensual sex between teenage
boys. If this offends you, or possession of which is illegal where you
live, don't read on!

If you choose to do so, let me have your thoughts about the story.

*******************************
**************************************

This is part of an on-going story. If you would like more, please let me
know!


GARETH'S STORY

 by

Alexander


I've been told by my social worker that I must try and write down as many
of the things that happened to me before I was taken into care that I can
remember. I think the only reason she wants me to do it is so that she can
try and change the way I think and behave. And no one is going to do that -
I am perfectly happy the way I am (most of the time anyway) and I don't see
any reason to change.  I know I am different to most boys of my age (15 if
you're interested) - I don't like sports very much, especially football and
rugby but I like to play computer games and, oh yes, going to the swimming
pool, but not because of the swimming!

Anyway, seeing as I have been grounded for a couple of days and have
nothing better to do, I might just as well write something down - at least
it will kill the time. I have made my mind up not to 'invent' anything or
even leave anything much out. After all, I don't suppose anyone will ever
read what I have to say, and even if they do, they either won't believe it
or won't care very much: no one ever does.

I was taken into care about two years ago, when I was thirteen, but I
suppose things really started about a year before that.  My mother and
father were always fighting and arguing, but it was on this particular
night that things really began to go wrong, dad came in from the pub even
drunker than usual and began hitting me and mum for no reason. He did this
a lot, but this night it was worse than usual and he wouldn't stop and
really hurt me and mum.

The following day we left the house whilst dad was at work and went to stay
with a friend of hers called Mick.  He was really a friend of my aunts I
think: anyway he was about 30 years old I suppose and lived by himself
across the other side of town. I'd met him a few times before and quite
liked him, although he seemed a bit odd in some ways - he was always
looking at me in a funny way and smiling.  I think that he was a bit pissed
off at first when mum asked him if we could stay and said that he didn't
really have the room, but she managed to persuade him to let us stay just
for a few days whilst we looked for somewhere else. It was only a
two-bedroom house, and Mick said that mum could use the spare room and I
could sleep on the sofa in the living room.  I didn't mind this at first,
but it wasn't long before I got a bit fed up with it - I was always the
last one to get to sleep, and also had to be the first one up in the
morning.  The only good thing was that during the night I could get up
whenever I wanted and raid the 'fridge for something to eat or drink - and
that seemed to be every hour on the hour!

It was on one of these explorations for food that it first happened. I had
woken up about two in the morning and been into the kitchen to make a
cheese sandwich. I'd gone back to the sofa and was watching the TV with the
sound turned right down when the door suddenly opened and Mick came in. At
first I thought he'd be really pissed off with me, but instead he just said
something like 'now I know where all the food's going', and smiled that
creepy grin at me. Instead of getting angry and telling me off, he came and
sat next to me on the sofa.  This made me feel a bit uncomfortable at first
as I was only wearing a pair of dad's old boxer shorts, which were much too
big, and showed more of me than I was comfortable with. And he was only in
his pyjama trousers. It didn't seem to worry him very much though, and he
even turned the sound up on the TV so he could hear it better. After a bit
I relaxed and curled up on the sofa next to him, enjoying the warmth of the
room, eating my sandwich, watching television and pleased that someone was
with me. It wasn't a particularly interesting programme, but I was happy
enough to have someone watching it with me for once who wasn't drunk or
about to beat me up. Mick must have been happy too as he put his arm over
my shoulder, pulled me gently to him and made himself more comfortable.

Suddenly I felt Mick's hand on my thigh. At first I thought he had done it
by accident, but when I felt his fingers gripping me slightly, I knew it
wasn't. I didn't know what to do next. At first it frightened me, but as I
got used to his hand being there, I found that I didn't really mind - I
think I might have even snuggled up a bit closer to him. I was still
staring at the television, but not really watching it, as I was trying to
work out what was happening. My thoughts were confirmed when his hand moved
higher up my thigh a little bit and stopped. I turned and looked at him,
without saying anything. In return he smiled and asked if everything was
all right.

To this day I don't know why I didn't stop him there and then, as I knew I
should. Perhaps my life would have been very different if I had, but then
again I don't think that it would have made any real difference, just
delayed the inevitable I suppose. Anyway, having worked out what he was
trying to do, I was more than a little nervous, not to say frightened. I
was also oddly excited by the attention I was getting.  Looking back on it
now, and knowing what I do, I realised that I was actually turned on by it
and didn't really want him to stop - I was even interested in finding out
what he would do next.

In reply to his question, and not trusting myself to speak, I simply nodded
and took a bite of my sandwich. This was just the signal he wanted. He
actually took his hand and moved it right into my crotch and pressed it
into my groin, not actually touching my prick, but only a tantalising
centimetre or so away from it.  Not daring to look down, I was acutely
conscious that I had an erection. I'd had them before of course, especially
at night, and was always happy with the lovely feeling it gave me, but this
was different. I still had the sensation of intense pleasure I always got,
but this time it seemed even nicer somehow. Not daring to move in case he
took his hand away, I sneaked a look out of the corner of my eye at his
groin and was delighted to see that Mick also had a hard on - and what a
size it was! I could just see a bit of his cock through the hole in his
trousers, and it looked enormous compared with mine. I suppose that when
really hard my cock was about ten centimetres long, but his must have been
twice that.

Mick must have noticed what I was doing as he gave my leg a squeeze and
asked again if I was OK.

Once again, I simply nodded, and not wanting him to stop, even encouraged
him by snuggling up to him even more.  This had the effect of moving my
prick closer to the hand in my groin, the end of it actually touching his
fingertips.

The sensation I had as I touched him for the first time was electric! I had
never, in all my life, felt anything like it.  I had of course played with
myself a lot, and always liked it, but this was stupendous. It was if my
mind had completely emptied itself of everything I had ever known, to be
replaced by an overwhelming feeling of delight.  So much by surprise did it
take me that I involuntarily took a deep breath and let out a low moan.

"Nice?" I heard Mick say from a million miles away.

"Yeah," I heard myself reply, instantly and without a second's thought.

"Good," was the only response.

We stayed as we were for a few delicious minutes, both full of our own
thoughts, totally wrapped up in our own emotions.

Not wanting to loose the magical feeling I had from the area of my groin, I
gently began to move my hips so that the tip of my cock rubbed up and down
the backs of Mick's hand.  Mick, obviously aware of this, gently moved his
hand, folded it round the shaft of my cock and held it softly.

"That's nice!" he whispered hoarsely, just loud enough for me to hear.

Quite suddenly, and without any warning he stood up.

"No!" he said, "We shouldn't be doing this. I'm going back to bed," at the
same time turning to face me.

As he did this, his cock, standing to full attention, sprang from inside
his pyjama trousers and pointed directly at me. By now of course I was well
and truly aroused and throwing all caution to the wind, not caring what
happened next, had no hesitation whatsoever in using the situation to my
advantage and I took a firm hold of his erection. Amazingly I found that my
fingers could reach right round it, but only just.

"Come on," I heard my disembodied voice say pleadingly, "It's my turn now."

"Oh shit!" Mick said, as much to himself as to me, "Are you sure?" he
continued, looking directly at me, " I don't think we should, but
........." His voice trailed off.

By now I was well beyond caring. For the first time as far as I could
remember I was with someone who liked me, and actually wanted to be with me
- and more importantly from my selfish point of view, someone I wanted
desperately to be with.

"Come on, " I whined, "Just for a bit. I won't tell anyone."

Wordlessly Mick sat down again and replacing his arm round my shoulders
gave me a cuddle.

"Well, all right then, but only for a minute or two. It's very late and we
should both be in bed asleep."

Having got over this awkward moment and for once getting my own way, I
didn't know what the hell to do next.

"Can I feel it?" I queried unnecessarily as I already had a firm grip of
his cock.

"Yes, if you want," he answered, "but don't hold so tight - it hurts!"

Releasing my grip slightly, I gently began to feel the length of his shaft,
and after summoning up enough courage, even felt around his balls."

Mick undid the button of his pyjamas and slid them down to his knees. As a
bit of a balancing act I suppose, I returned the favour by removing my own
shorts completely, staring for a few seconds at my own raging boner as I
did so, mentally comparing it with his. For the first time I was aware that
it was harder than I had ever known it before, so hard in fact that it was
painful.

"Beautiful" was all Mick could manage to say staring at it, "Beautiful."

For the next timeless minutes we feverishly explored each other, our hands
roaming freely, seemingly unable to get enough of each other.  Just as I
was beginning to be relaxed enough to actually be aware of what we were
doing, I was conscious of a wet feeling at the end of my cock.

"Bollocks!" I thought, "I'm pissing myself now!" and glanced down at it.
To my amazement it wasn't piss, but a clear, water-like liquid that I saw
glistening at the tip of my prick.

My puzzlement and concern must have shown as Mick put both his hands on my
shoulders and looked at me.

"Can you come yet?" he asked, nervously.

"Yeah. At least sometimes," I added, slightly embarrassed, not really
knowing what he was talking about.  I had of course, spoken about this sort
of thing with the other boys at school and we had the usual schoolboy jokes
and so on about it, but I had never actually "come" despite my boasts as to
how many times a day I could do it, and my many secret attempts, all of
which so far had been in vain.

"Oh," was his monosyllabic reply, and he dropped his hands, somehow
guessing the reality.

For a few agonised seconds, I thought that I had screwed things and I'd
annoyed or upset him somehow. Thinking quickly, and in an attempt to rescue
the situation, I asked if he would like to try now, hoping against hope
that he would, and even more fervently that I would for the first time be
able to manage it.

"Only if you really want to," he said, more seriously than I had ever heard
him speak before, "Only if you really, really, want to."

"Yes. Please," I gasped out hurriedly, and without thinking what I was
saying, continued, "I've never come before. At least, I don't think so!"
grinning at him in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"OK then," he smiled gently back at me, "Come here and I'll show you what
to do."

Putting an arm round my waist, he sat me on his knee and softly placed two
or three fingers round my dick. Very gently he began to work them up and
down the shaft of my cock.  I had done this to myself lots of times before,
but recently I had found that after a bit I got a strange aching feeling
from somewhere in my groin and had stopped in case I was damaging myself.

"Come on, You do the same to me," he urged.

Willingly I did as I was asked, and managing to get my whole hand on his
cock, copied his motions.

"Christ, Gareth!" I heard him gasp, "Don't stop. That's wonderful!"

If Mick felt even half as good as I did, then he must have been in heaven.
The sensation was indescribable - I would never have believed that one
person could make another feel as I did then; it was absolutely marvellous
and I didn't ever want it to stop.

But it was just about to - there it was again. That dull, aching feeling in
my crutch and this time it seemed even worse than ever before. I was just
about to tell Mick to stop when the pain disappeared quite suddenly, only
to be replaced by another, even more peculiar feeling. Just as I was coming
to terms with it and without any conscious effort or thought on my part, my
whole body seemed to shake and tremble and thrust itself violently forwards
- and from the end of my cock shot out some thick, gooey white stuff!

"Spunk!"

It was the first time I had ever seen it, but somehow intuitively knew what
it was, and boy was I happy!

I didn't get time to give it much thought however, as almost simultaneously
Mick shot his stuff all over me! I suppose the excitement of seeing me come
had made him do the same - but much, much more of it - I thought he would
never stop. My little effort, brilliant though I thought it might be, was
nothing compared to his, but I couldn't care less. I don't think I even
noticed at the time. At last, I was able to make spunk! I was delirious
with delight and excitement and felt as if I was about to faint, but
instead in my passion I threw my arms around Mick's neck and gave him an
enormous kiss on the cheeks.

Suddenly aware of what I had just done, I sat back, very, very embarrassed.

"Sssssorry!" I mumbled, staring down at my by now rapidly shrinking cock.

"Hey, don't worry!" Mick said, giving me a cuddle, "I can remember the
first time I really came, and I know how you feel. Great isn't it?" And
without waiting for an answer, he leaned forwards and gently kissed me on
the lips.

Letting go of me, he leaned back on the sofa and sighed.

"That was good. Did you enjoy it?" he asked after a minute or so, staring
at the ceiling.

"Yeah. It was brilliant!" I replied, giving him another squeeze round his
neck and peck on the cheek, "Can we do it again?"

Mick looked down at me and grinned.

"Hey, hold on a bit!  It's about time we were both in bed, look at the
time."

Turning to look at the clock I was amazed to see that it was after three in
the morning.

Reluctantly I pulled my shorts back on again as Mick did the same with his
pyjamas.

I watched sadly as Mick left the room, giving me a wide smile as he closed
the door behind him. Determined to try and re-create the new-found pleasure
I had just discovered, I spent the remainder of the night playing with
myself and going over and over the events of the night.

Chapter Two

"Hey you. Dickhead. Stop playing with yourself and come and get your tea!"
said a distant voice, accompanied by a loud bang on the door.

It took me a full minute to come back to realise where I was. No longer was
I sat in the comfortable, warm lounge with Mick, but in my little cell-like
room in the Children's Home - alone; feeling very pissed off and let down
somehow. I also had an erection you wouldn't believe! On the table in front
of me was a messy pile of hand-written pages - and apart from the first few
words I couldn't actually remember having written any of them. Glancing
through them I realised that I had got so engrossed in what I was doing
that I wasn't even conscious of putting anything on paper - or of the
passing time.

Gathering what remained of my wits, I hurriedly put the pages in order and
hid them in my underwear draw. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to
pick them up and read through them. Taking a glance round the room to make
sure that no evidence was in sight, I left, carefully locking the door
behind me for once.

On the way downstairs I smiled inwardly to myself, realising that there was
more to this 'writing game' than I thought. I had actually enjoyed doing
it, and for the first time in ages had got so involved in what I was doing
that I'd lost all track of time. I'd always been better at English than
other subjects at school, but even then wasn't especially good at it. I'd
never written anything as long as the thing I'd just done, or with as much
interest. I'd impressed even myself.

I was still thinking about the story whilst having my tea, and trying to
work out what I would say next, when I was aware of being dug in the ribs
and spoken to.

"Hey, Gareth. What you been grounded for now?"

Turning to face my tormentor, I saw Martin grinning at me. Martin was the
only 'friend' I had in the house; we were exactly the same age and went to
the same school, but not in the same class as he was a lot cleverer than
me. The reason we were 'almost friends' was that he didn't let the fact I
was 'different' bother him too much. The other kids in the house picked on
me whenever they could, calling me names and bullying me in other ways when
they thought they wouldn't get caught. I'd learned by bitter experience
that there was no point in complaining about it to the staff as they always
ignored me. I suppose they thought the bullying would make me 'normal' or
at least ensure I didn't try to mess about with the other kids. Martin was
special. He rarely chose to talk to me, or ask me to join in any activities
with him, but at least he seemed to accept me for what he supposed I was
and it didn't bother him apparently - and he never took the piss out of me.

"Bunking off school," I answered giving him a broad grin, "The bastards
took an afternoon register and I got caught."

"Idiot!" was his only reply, said in a compassionate sort of way, but I
could tell he wasn't really interested.

"What'cha been doing then?" he continued.

I was just about to tell him when I thought better of it. Even though we
were sort of friends, I didn't feel like telling him what until now had
been one of my deepest and best-kept secrets. Even I was a bit scared of
what I had put on paper, so what the hell he would think I couldn't even
begin to guess.

"Sleeping."

"Bollocks. Wanking more like!" he whispered, now smiling broadly. If any of
the other kids in the house had said this, and they would have done, it
would have had a nasty, vicious edge to it and said loud enough to cause
amusement to all that could hear. But from Martin, on the contrary, it
sounded almost nice.

Whatever possessed me I don't know: perhaps it was the left-over effect of
my literary efforts that made me say what I did next. I would never in a
million years have said it otherwise.

"So what if I was. Jealous?"

For an instant, Martin looked as if he'd been smacked in the mouth or was
about to hit me, but the moment passed and he simply said, "Maybe, " in an
odd sort of way and looked straight at me without a trace of a smile.

This threw me. My mind was already in turmoil, and now it was thrown into
an even greater mess.  Did I hear him right? Did he mean what I think he
meant? Could he possibly ........?

'Shit!' I thought to myself. I'm imagining things. He couldn't possibly
mean anything by what he said. It's just me and my stupid one-track mind,
and with that returned, still confused, to my meal.

Just as soon as I could, I left the table and went back to my room, anxious
to re-read what I had written and think about what happened next.

Lying down on my bed, I picked up the sheaves of paper and read. It was
amazing. I could still hardly remember writing any of it, and at first it
was just like reading a story written about me by somebody else, but it
wasn't very long before once again I was lost once more in my own world,
remembering with intense pleasure the events described.

Having reached the end, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander.

Me and Mick didn't 'mess about' again for quite sometime. Although I wished
desperately that once again he would come visiting in the early hours, he
never did. I remembered spending many nights trying my best to stay awake
as long as I could, just in case.  I would never forgive myself if he
wanted some more messing about and I was asleep. But he never
did. Nevertheless I practised a lot - thinking of him every time! I also
achieved what I had been boasting of for the best part of a year now - I
could jerk off at least four times a day, a fact which I tested frequently.

One good thing was that after this he never actually asked mum and me to
move out. I don't know whether it was because of me, or because things just
drifted along, dropping into quite a comfortable routine. Anyway, whatever
the reason, I was quite content now to sleep on the sofa, ever hoping that
he would return.


The sound of boys racing down the corridor outside my room made me open my
eyes, rudely destroying my daydream. Reluctantly I rolled off my bed and
sat at my desk again.

Deciding that I should try and get some more of my thoughts down on paper,
I grabbed the blank notepad and pen, stuck the pen in my mouth and sucked
it; my normal habit when I was trying to think.

Chapter Three

'It must have been two weeks or so later,' I eventually wrote, 'When I
decided that as Mick hadn't been to see me again, I must do something about
it.'

Sometime around midnight, mum and Mick decided at last that it was time for
bed. For some reason, I was feeling particularly randy that night and had
been thinking hard of a way I could persuade Mick to come back downstairs
later so we could mess about together. I had tried all evening to give some
sort of hidden signal to let him know what I wanted, without making mum
think I was either mad or sickening for something. Rubbing my hand in my
crutch didn't work. Neither did provocatively opening or closing my legs. I
tried catching his eye and winking at him, but he didn't seem to even know
I was there. In desperation, I even 'accidentally' kicked him on the shin,
at the same time making sure that he saw me slide my zip half-way down my
flies. No effect.

Finally in the inspiration born of desperation, as they were leaving the
room I said, apparently to no one in particular, "I think I might have a
cheese sandwich later."

That worked. Both stopped and turned round to look at me. mum simply said
something like "Don't you dare. You've had enough to eat today!" But I
hardly heard her; I was too intent on staring at Mick, who looked as if a
bomb had hit him.

 "At last," I thought, "He's got the message!"

Without another word, they both left the room and closed the door behind
them.

Slowly I began to get undressed and discovered, not to my surprise, that I
had a terrific hard on. Smiling inwardly to myself, I decided to give Mick
a surprise if he did come and visit me, and for once took my boxers off
before I wrapped the sheet around me and settled down on my make-shift bed.

This was almost a fatal mistake. The feel of the cotton rubbing against my
erection was almost too much to bear. It didn't help much either when I put
my hand down to protect it. My hand, with a mind of its own seemingly,
assumed its more usual wanking position and I had the greatest of
difficulty in stopping it from doing what it so badly wanted to do.  The
only thing which made me stop was the thought that I ought to save it, or I
wouldn't be able to come again with Mick later.  With a strength of will I
didn't know I possessed, I forced myself to let go, and grabbing the remote
control, turned the TV on to a late night film.

I kept the sound down as low as I could. Not only so that it couldn't be
heard upstairs, but also so that I could hear the sound if anyone came
downstairs.

Looking round at the clock, I saw with dismay that it was only about
12.30. If Mick was coming at all, it wouldn't be for at least an hour and
so I tried to concentrate on the film - without much success. My brain was
far too filled with a mixture of excitement, danger, no little sense of
fear - and sex.  I tried to make myself think that he wasn't going to come,
and that I was being stupid even thinking that he might. This worked - but
only for a millisecond. I just couldn't get him out of my mind.  I fixed my
eyes on the clock as the minute hand crept oh so very slowly round. I even
noticed for the first time that you could actually see the minute hand move
if you stared at it hard enough.

At 1 o'clock, the film ended, to be replaced by a boring news bulletin.

"Bollocks!" I thought, "He's not fucking coming," and almost cried with
frustration and disappointment.

It's true what someone told me years later, that once a man's mind turns
towards sex, his brains move to his balls and he loses all common sense. I
was now in that position and about to prove the point.

"If he won't come to me, then I'll go to him," I decided, not giving a
second thought to the fact that perhaps he didn't want me.

Not even bothering to put any clothes on, I hurriedly wrapped the sheet
round me and turning the TV off, crept out the door and very gingerly
climbed the stairs, making sure that I kept as close to the wall as I could
so that they didn't creak.

I could feel my heart pounding as I very slowly edged my way down the
corridor.  Mum's bedroom light was out I noticed gratefully as I slid
past. But Mick's wasn't. Under the door I could just make out a thin yellow
line of light which showed that at least he wasn't asleep yet. As carefully
as I could I grasped the door handle and tried it.  It hadn't occurred to
me that it might be locked, and thankfully it wasn't: pressing the handle
down as far as it would go, I pushed the door open. Remarkably silently, it
gave way and I hurriedly slipped in to Mick's room and closed it behind me.

Mick was lying on the top of his bed, staring at the ceiling, naked apart
from his dressing gown, which was wide open. And he was holding his rigid
prick in his hand, stroking it slowly

He must have heard the door close because he suddenly whipped round and saw
me.

"For fuck's sake! What the hell.........!" he almost shouted, "Jesus
Christ!"

He was angry. More than that, he was steaming, boiling, mad. I had a sudden
panic-stricken fear that just like my dad the next thing he would do was
belt me.  In shock, I let the sheet go, leaving me as naked as the day I
was born, and dropping to the floor I curled up as small as I could,
waiting for the rain of blows that was certain to come.  For the first time
I realised the enormity of what I had done. Me, a stupid, randy twelve-year
old boy, had crept naked, uninvited and unannounced into the bedroom of a
30-year old man in the hope that we could have sex together. I started to
cry, partly in anticipation of the beating that I was about to get, and
partly in sorrow for myself.  I heard the bed complain as he slid off it
and covered my head with my arms, waiting for the slapping to start. But it
never did. Anxiously I slowly turned my head to find him. Instead of
looming over me, he was standing by his bed staring down at me, with one
hand covering his mouth and the other on his waist. His dressing gown, I
noticed without interest, was still open, showing his now limp cock.

My tears must have had some effect on him as after what seemed like an age
he walked over and dragged me to my feet.  Walking me over to his bed he
made me sit on the edge of it. Pointedly moving away, he sat on the end of
the bed without looking at me.

There was an awkward silence as we were both too full of our own thoughts
to dare speak. Eventually I broke the silence.

"Sorry, Mick. I didn't mean anything. Honest. I only wanted to .... to
..... talk to you." It was a lie obviously, but one which I vaguely hoped
would get me out of trouble.

"You scared the hell out of me, you ...... you little ...."  He was lost
for words - at least ones he could use to me.

This made me feel even worse, and I started to cry again.

"For Christ's sake shut up! Your mother will hear you," he said as loud as
he dare, "Come here."

Nervously I did as I was told and moved next to him, all thoughts of sex
long since gone from my mind.

He slid a comforting arm round my waist and carefully wiped the tears from
my cheek with his hand.

"You should never have come here, Gareth. I knew what you were trying to
tell me tonight, but deliberately ignored it.  What we did the before was
wrong and should never have happened. I know I started it, and at the time
it was what I wanted, but I should never have done it. And it mustn't ever
happen again."

I heard what he said, and absorbed his words. I didn't understand, and
struggled to say so.

"But Mick I didn't mind," I faltered, "I liked it and I've been wanting to
do it again ever since. I know it's not right really, but I won't tell
anybody. I really like you and want to be with you."

He didn't answer for ages. Eventually, and with obvious effort, he turned
my face towards him.

"Listen," he whispered, "I want to tell you something, and after I've
finished you must go back downstairs and go to bed. Promise?"

Thinking that anything was better than nothing, I nodded silent agreement,
I wiped the remainder of the tears away with the back of my hand and stared
at the floor waiting for him to start.

"Well," he began slowly, "I don't know how to put this, or even whether you
will understand or not, but there's something I think you ought to know."

Curiously I looked into his face, and was surprised to see that his eyes
were closed and it seemed as if he was trying hard not to cry.

"No one knows this except a very few close friends of mine. And you must
promise never, ever, to repeat what I'm going to tell you." "Promise?" he
added, opening his eyes and looked straight at me.

I was just about to agree when I was stunned into silence by the sound of
Mum's bedroom door opening.  With a speed which amazed me, Mick shot across
the room and turned off the light.  By the dim glow of the street lamp
outside I could just see him putting his finger against his lips as a sign
for me to keep quiet.

For a split second I thought that mum was going downstairs to check on me,
but was relieved to hear the bathroom door open and close. Almost without
breathing, we waited until she left the bathroom, and we heaved joint sighs
of relief when we heard her close her door and switch the light off.

Whilst all this was going on, I had got under the duvet and stretched out
on the bed with some sort of idea at the back of my mind that if for some
reason she opened Mick's door, I wouldn't be seen.

When he came back and sat on the bed again, he started to talk once more
but I could hardly hear him.

"I can't hear you," I whispered and grabbing his wrist pulled him down so
that we faced each other, about a foot apart.

"That's better. Now what were you saying?"

In the dim light I could just see his face, and watched his lips as he
spoke to me.

I don't know whether it was the effect of the darkened room or what, but
Mick treated me almost as if I was a grown-up, which no one had ever done
before.  I didn't understand all the words he used, but I knew what he was
trying to say - or I thought I did. Some words like 'queer' and 'Homo' I
had heard before of course, and had a vague idea of what they meant, but
this was the first time that I had heard them used without someone telling
a joke, or being rude.

Mick seemed happy to keep talking, and I was more than happy to listen to
him. Once or twice, when I thought that he was going to stop, I remembered
my promise to go back to my own bed once he'd finished and I made every
effort to ask questions and keep him talking. This was a new experience for
me and I was keen for it to carry on for as long as possible. The more I
listened, the more comfortable I got, actually taking more interest our
conversation than I thought I ever could.  Turning over onto my side, I
rested my head on my crooked arm and looked at him.  Much to my surprise I
saw tears shining on his cheeks.  In my ignorance, I asked him why he was
crying.

"I'm not really," he lied, "It's just that I've never told anyone as much
as I've told you. I know you don't understand any of it, but somehow it
makes me feel better."

"Of course I understand," I lied back, "I know that you like men more than
women, and there's nothing wrong with that. I think that I like boys more
than girls, just like you do."

I hadn't a clue at the time as to what I was really saying, but somehow
knew that they were the words Mick wanted to hear, and if I could say
anything to make my friend feel better then I would. I also felt a strange
sense of relief once I'd said them, almost as if I had opened a door to a
secret room in my mind.

I must have been right because Mick turned over to face me fully for the
first time and smiled. Not the usual creepy-sort I was used to, but a
caring, tender sort of smile.  Slowly he moved towards me and kissed my
cheek.  My immediate response was to reach over and return the favour, but
this time much more firmly, and on his lips.

Mick's response at first was to pull away, but I wouldn't let him.

"Can I stay the night with you?" I pleaded, "Promise I won't do
anything. Honest."

"No. That's stupid and you know it. What would happen if your mother found
out? She'd kill us both."

Reluctantly I agreed with him, but was still determined to have at least a
little 'mess about' if I could.

Slowly, taking great care that he didn't see, I slid my hand towards his
prick and grabbed hold of it.  I heard him gasp with shock as he felt me,
but he didn't say or do anything to stop me.

"Five minutes? And then I'll go," I whined in my best pleading voice.

I knew I'd won as I felt his prick hardening under my hand, just like mine
was.

"Five minutes. And I mean five minutes," he whispered, "You know you're a
bastard don't you?" he added laughing softly.

"Yep. But I don't care now," I laughed back, " 'Cos you're one too!"

This was the signal for a very silent and unbelievably exciting play fight,
each of us trying their best to grab a feel of the others prick and balls.

Somehow managing to squirm on top of Mick I tried to hold him down by his
arms, but he was much too strong for me of course. In a determined effort
not to be beaten, I hoped to torment him by leaning over and kissing him on
the lips again. This time I managed accidentally to get my tongue inside
his mouth and was taken completely by surprise when our tongues came in
contact and the immense feeling of pleasure I got from it. I was also aware
that my cock was getting a superb massage from his stomach area, so much so
that I thought I was about to come.

"I think I'm coming," I whispered in his ear before kissing him
again. Quite consciously I worked myself up and down his body even harder,
just like I imagined you would do if you were fucking a girl.

"Just a minute," he managed to gasp out, "Wait a sec."

Wondering what he was planning to do, I paused. Somewhere down below I
could feel him take hold of his enormous cock and slip it between my legs.

"Close your legs tight," he told me, "And do what you were just doing
again."

I did as I was told and started to fuck him again. This time however I
could feel his prick hard up against my groin, and it was magic!  Almost
instantly, uncontrollably, and without any warning at all I came, shooting
my spunk between us. Some of it, I noticed with interest actually reached
as far as Mick's chin.  It was the most wonderful come I had yet had and
said so to Mick, just as he came, spraying his come all over my back and
legs.

Too exhausted to move, I rested my head on his shoulder and laid there
recovering for seeming ages. Eventually I began to feel a bit cold, so I
rolled off him and lay on my back, breathing deeply.

"That was fucking all right!" I whispered, still full of excitement.

"Yeah. Brilliant," Mick agreed, "But it's time you were in your own bed
now. Don't forget to have a shower in the morning will you? Otherwise
you'll smell of spunk all day," he laughed.

Leaning over I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and told him that I loved
him.

In reply, my new-found best friend squeezed my cock and balls gently and
told me to "piss off!"

Happily I did so, and was soon fast asleep in my own bed, dreaming of Mick
and things to come.

Chapter Four

Putting my pen down, I took a glance at my watch and was amazed to see it
was almost midnight. And not unsurprisingly, I had yet another raging hard
on!  "Oh, well," I thought, "There's only one answer to that," and
hurriedly undoing my trousers I was walking across to the door to lock it
when there was a quick, quiet knock on it, rapidly followed by it opening
and Martin bursting in.

"Quick, let me in before anyone sees," he said as he closed the door behind
him.

I was so surprised, not to say shocked, that I forgot my pants were round
my ankles by now and my hugely erect cock was pointing directly at my
intruder.

"Christ!" Martin stammered, "Sorry.  I didn't know....." and his acute
embarrassment was confirmed by the colour of his face.  For a moment or two
he just stood there, unsure how to extricate him from the situation.

Reaching down to pull my trousers back up, I told him not to be so daft. If
I wasn't embarrassed, why should he be?

Obviously relieved, he relaxed visibly.

"Sit down over here if you want," I said, pointing at the chair I had just
left.

Curious as to why he had come bursting into my room so late I sat on the
bed and asked him.

"Well, " he started, "I was in my bedroom about half an hour ago, and I got
to thinking about what you'd said at tea time."

"Well?" I queried, desperately trying to remember what I'd said, "What did
I say?"

I must have sounded angry or something because he stood up and made to
leave, but by now I was far too interested in why he was here to let him
get away that easily.

"Hey, don't panic!" I grinned, "I'm not going to attack you or anything. I
just can't remember what I said, that's all."

He sat down again and looked at me.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, somewhat nervously I thought.

"Yeah, if you like."

"Is it true what the other kids say about you? About why you're here and
everything?"

I knew exactly what the others said about me; after all I'd heard it often
enough, both here and in other places I've lived. And I'd reached the stage
where I couldn't really give a damn any more, but for some perverse reason
I wanted to hear Martin say it to my face.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked as kindly as I could, my brain trying to
work out his reason.

"Well ........." he started, and stopped, as he didn't know what to say
next.

Suddenly a bright light lit up in my mind. Not even daring to think I might
be right, I decided to help him out.

"I'm here because I got caught jerking off with a man back home." I said,
as emotionless as I could manage.

"Is that what you'd heard?" I continued, " 'Cos if it is, they're
right. And what's more, I don't really care who knows anymore."

I was getting extremely angry for some reason and was about to really lose
my temper when I saw the look on Martin's face.

" 'S'all right with me," Martin said with a struggle, "I don't care about
it at all. What you do is your problem, not mine. I was just curious that's
all."

He was lying. I had recognised the look on his face, and almost certainly
knew what he was thinking and felt very sorry for him.

"I'm queer," I shocked Martin by saying, "There's nothing I can do about
it, even if I wanted to, which I don't.  It's not my fault. If it's
anybody's, it's yours and everybody else's for not allowing me to be who I
am."

" I thought you were," Martin continued, "That's why I just had to ask
you. Do you mind if I ask you another question? Say no if you want."

By now my curiosity as well as my prick was well and truly aroused. "OK. I
don't mind."

"What's it like?  Being with another man I mean. Is it better than being
with a girl?"

"Dunno," I replied, "I've never been with a girl. Never wanted to really,
so I can't tell you. Have you?  Been with a girl I mean?"

"No," he replied, "And I've never been with a man either. But I've thought
about it."

I was right.

"Have you ever," and here I was lost for words for a moment, " Ever had
some fun with another boy?"

"Yes. Once," he answered, "In the last home I was in."

The somewhat tense atmosphere of a few moments ago had gone and neither of
us wanted to leave the conversation where it was - it was becoming very
interesting now and we were both keen to carry on with it.

"Listen, " I said conspiratorially, "Do you wanna stay and talk for a
bit?", vaguely hoping that we might be able to do just a bit more than
talk.

"Yeah, can we?"

"I'm up for it, but we'd better make sure we're not caught."

It was strictly against the rules to be in each others rooms after 'lights
out', and the punishment for being caught was bad enough from the boss, but
it would be even worse if the other boys found out, as you can imagine, and
I knew to my cost.

"OK then, go back to your room and lock it so they'll think you're asleep
if anybody checks. Then come back here and I'll let you in. "Oh," I added
almost as an afterthought, "It might be a good idea if you got into your
pyjamas just in case."  I couldn't think whatever the 'just in case' might
mean, but if he did, it would be another link in the chain of my thoughts.

Without another word Martin opened the door, and having checked the coast
was clear ran quietly to his room.

Whilst he was away, I rapidly threw off what remained of my own clothes and
deciding as usual to wear nothing under my dressing gown, quickly put it on
and tied up the belt loosely.

It was only a very short time afterwards that my door opened again to admit
Martin, who, I was pleased to see, had changed into his pyjamas.

"Lock the door," I whispered, nodding in the direction of the key, "And
turn off the light."

As he did this, I switched on both the bedside light and the table lamp,
which between them gave a superbly exciting sort of atmosphere.

"Come on, sit over here," I indicated, patting the side of the bed next to
me.

Doing as he was asked, Martin took the two or three steps across the room
and sat on the bed: not as close as I would have liked, but nevertheless he
chose to sit with me rather than on the chair across the other side of the
room. "Another clue," I thought.

There was a somewhat strained silence for a minute or two until I decided
that I would break it.

"Did you like it when you were with that boy in your last place?  What
happened?"

"Yeah, it was OK I suppose," Martin said thoughtfully, "We were the only
kids in the house and we shared the same room. I'd been there for ages but
he'd only been there for a couple of weeks. He was a bit older than me, not
much though, 'bout a year I guess. We were both in our beds reading when he
started talking sexy-like, about tossing off and that sort of thing. I
wasn't very interested at first, but he wouldn't stop talking about it and
kept going on and on. Anyway he suddenly asked if I minded if he had a
wank, and before I could say anything he threw off his bedcovers and lay
there with this bloody great hard on! "

I listened intently as Martin carried on with his story, about how the
other boy had eventually got into Martin's bed with him and they'd tossed
each other off.

"It never happened again, though," Martin finished, "I think he was too
embarrassed or something, but we never even mentioned it again It's a pity
though because I think that I would have liked it."

I sat thoughtfully for a minute or two, wondering what to say when Martin
said "What was it like doing it with a man?  What happened?"

My mind flashed back to the first time that I had sex with a man - sort
of. I didn't feel like telling him about Mick and so invented a story which
I hoped would satisfy him. I told him that I'd bunked off school one day
and was wandering around town when I wanted a crap and went to the public
toilets in the market place. When I'd got my trousers off and sat on the
toilet, I saw a big hole in the wall. I was just about to cover it with
some toilet paper when I noticed that there was someone in the other toilet
- and I couldn't help but see that he was playing with himself. Fascinated
and curious I leaned down and put my eye to the hole.  It wasn't long of
course before he saw me, and he waved his dick around so that I could get a
really good look at it. After a bit he bent down so that he could get a
look at mine. I suppose it was only then he realised how old I was and I
could hear him moaning and groaning as he stared at my rigid boner as I
played with it for him. The next thing was that he put his finger through
the hole and indicated that I should put my prick through it. A bit
frightened at first, it took a few minutes for me to decide to give it a
try and see what happened. Slowly I pushed it through the hole and it was
soon in his firm but gentle grip. At first he was just wanking me off, but
then he started to suck it.  I found that it was a good feeling and I
quickly decided that I liked it. It was the first time that I'd had my cock
sucked and was amazed to find out how brilliant it was: I also wondered why
Mick hadn't done this to me and I made a mental note to ask him the next
time I saw him.  What surprised me even more was that he actually swallowed
my spunk when I came, sucking me really hard to make sure he got every last
drop.

I lay back on the bed at this point and closed my eyes, remembering with
pleasure how much I'd enjoyed the experience.

Martin, to give him credit, was a lot cleverer than I thought because he
then said, without any sort of criticism,

"Couldn't have been the first time you'd done it."

Turning this over in my mind, I carried on, "After that I used to go into
those toilets whenever I could, and I managed to get tossed off every
time. And that's why I'm here," I continued, " 'Cos one day I got caught by
a plain clothes copper."

I took a deep breath, and letting it out noisily, made my mind up to tell
him a little more, "I used to go there lots of times and once or twice when
I left the toilet one of the men waiting to use it would make some nasty
comment or other. I suppose the Police knew what went on in there and I
must have just been unlucky to get caught." The memory of the day I was
taken to the Police Station was still painfully fresh and I pushed the rest
of the story to the back of my mind.

Still laid back on the bed, I put my arms under my head and trying to think
of something pleasanter, thought of Mick and all the good times we'd had -
and how much I missed him. Remembering what it was like, and some of the
things we had got up to was giving me a hard on, and forgetting that Martin
was there for a second, moved one hand into my dressing gown and took hold
of my hardening prick.

Martin coughed quietly, realising that I'd forgotten about him.

Opening my eyes and looking at him, a bit sort of flustered, I mumbled some
sort of apology and pulled my knees up to my chest.  Martin was still
looking in the direction of my groin. I'm not sure whether he could
actually see anything or not, but I was certainly feeling sexier than hell
now, and decided to push things along a bit.

Opening my legs a bit, I pulled my dressing gown apart, just enough to make
sure that he could get a good look if he wanted. Which he did - he couldn't
take his eyes off it. Glancing down at him, I could see he'd got a hard on,
but I couldn't make out much as he must have been wearing pants under his
pyjamas.

"You wearing pants?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I never wear them in bed," I told him, hoping that he would take the
hint.

"Oh."

Silence. I think we both knew what was coming next, but neither wanted to
be the first to say it.

"Shall I take 'em off?" he whispered.

"If you like."

Standing up, Martin unbuttoned his trousers and hooking his fingers inside
the waistband of his pants, pushed them both to the floor.

His cock stood up, proud and erect, with Martin looking down at it.

"Can I feel it?" I asked, getting off the bed and standing in front of him.

He simply nodded in reply.

It was a beautiful, beautiful prick. Pink, smooth and uncircumcised;
perhaps a bit shorter than mine, but certainly a lot thicker. I felt Martin
shudder as I took hold of it and slowly began to masturbate him.

"Do you want to come?" I murmured in his ear, " 'Cos I do."

"Yeah."

Taking his hand, I put it on my own by now rigid boner. It had been
absolutely ages since anyone had tossed me off, or even held my prick and
I'd almost forgotten how wonderful it felt having someone else touching it.

"Christ. That's nice," I said almost unintentionally.

"Yeah," Martin agreed.

It was only a matter of a couple of minutes before we both came, almost
together, spraying each other with what seemed like gallons of our warm,
sticky come. I hadn't come like that for weeks - and it felt bloody
marvellous. I hadn't felt so good for a long, long time, and I told Martin
so as I fell back on the bed, pulling him down with me.

"Me too," he agreed, "You won't tell anyone will you?" He sounded worried.

" 'Course not. What do you think I am - stupid or something?" I assured
him.

"Sorry. 'Course not."

I don't know about anybody else but I always feel completely knackered
after I've come. It only lasts for a bit, but I feel really tired. I think
Martin must have felt the same, because we both lay there for about ten
minutes without saying a word.

What possessed me I've no idea, but I turned to face Martin and said, "Hey,
listen. I've been writing about me, and some of the things I've done. Do
you wanna read it and tell me what you think?"

As soon as I'd said this, I regretted it. Only a few hours before I'd
promised myself that no one would ever read what I'd written, and here I
was, offering it to almost the first person I'd spoken too since
then. Shit! I could have bitten my tongue off, but it was too late now.

Martin, not unexpectedly said he would, but would I mind if he took it and
read it in bed. Still feeling pissed off with myself for allowing me to get
into this situation, I dragged myself off the bed and across to the table.
Collecting the pages together, I handed them to Martin who by now was
standing by the door with his pyjamas on and his pants in his hand.

"Give 'em back to me in the morning. And the next time you come visiting,
don't wear your pants!" I added, grinning.

Martin, who must have been feeling better now, smiled back and said he
wouldn't.

Locking the door behind him, I threw my dressing gown on the floor with the
rest of my clothes and lay on top of the still warm bed and closed my eyes,
happily thinking of the possibilities that my new-found friendship would
open up.

The following day, being Sunday, everyone was allowed to lay in as for long
as they wanted. Despite waking early (for me!), I'd laid on the bed for
ages playing idly with my usual morning boner and listening to the
radio. It must have been nearly ten o'clock before I got up and saw the
pieces of paper on the floor. Martin must have pushed them under the door
sometime earlier as I hadn't heard anyone knocking. Bollocks! I would have
liked to have seen him again, if only to find out if last night was just a
one-off, or (as I hoped) he was interested in messing about again.

Walking back to the bed, I tossed the papers on the table, and noticed that
the top sheet wasn't one of mine.

"Awesome!" It read, "When are you going to finish it?" It was signed 'M',
and there was a single, small "x" under it!

Not bothering even to get dressed, I sat at the table, bollock naked, and
quickly skimmed through again what I'd written, interested in trying to
work out which bits "M" had found so awesome. Giving up, I began to plan
what I would say next.

Chapter Five

Mick and me 'messed about' quite a lot after the night I'd gone to his
room; not every night, but at least four or five times a week. Looking back
on it now, I realise that it was me who made all the first moves, never
Mick. I didn't ever once think of me, or Mick, as being 'queer'.  I was
simply very content to have Mick as an adult friend who didn't beat me up,
or get drunk. He was the first, and only, man who seemed to like me for who
I was, and I would have done anything to keep him as a friend. What we were
doing I didn't think of as wrong in any way, it was just something that we
enjoyed doing together. I can remember one night especially when I'd
tip-toed to his room as usual, but found he was asleep when I got there. I
was much too aroused and excited to think of going back to my own bed and
instead climbed in very gingerly beside him.  It was a wonderful, dangerous
and exciting thing for me to do. I was really happy in the knowledge that I
could get into this man's bed, cuddle up to him and even play with his cock
and balls without him getting angry with me - more than that, I knew he
even liked me doing it. It was a blissful feeling and I curled up tight
against him, resting one hand on his soft prick, and gently tossed myself
off, trying not to wake him.  I even wrote "Gareth" with my spunk on his
chest - I was going to add " loves Mick", but didn't have enough come.
Idly thinking to myself that if I waited for a bit, I'd be able to come
again and finish the job, I relaxed against the warmth of his body and
waited.

The next thing I knew it was light. Panic-stricken I sat up and searched
for his alarm clock to see what time it was: seven o'clock! mum would be
getting up any minute now and go downstairs. Shit!  Hurriedly I slid out of
the bed and ran as fast as I dared on tip-toe back downstairs; dived onto
the cold sofa and wrapped the blanket around me.  mum came in to wake me
not more than five minutes later.

During breakfast, Mick kept giving me odd looks. "Does he know what I did
last night?" I wondered, slightly worried. In the cold light of day, it
didn't seem so much fun now, and I regretted being so stupid. "He might
even stop us 'messing about' " I thought sadly.  It wasn't until late that
night, when I'd once again crept into his room that I summoned up the
courage to tell him what I'd done the night before.  To begin with he was a
bit angry, but once he realised that I'd not been discovered, and how
worried I'd been all day, he wasn't so bad, but he made me promise never to
do it again - which I willingly did. At least he laughed when I told him
that I'd only managed to write "Gareth" - and he even helped me complete
the sentence a little later on!

It was November, and I'd just had my 13th birthday when mum came into the
house one evening and said that she'd found a flat for us both. I was
devastated. At the back of my mind I suppose that I knew we couldn't stay
with Mick for ever, but the shock of being told that we were to move out
that week-end really threw me. I was just about to beg and plead with her
to let us stay when I realised that perhaps that wouldn't be such a good
idea. After all, I had complained enough about sleeping on the sofa, and
she might just work out why I wanted so badly to stay with Mick. For forms
sake, I told her how pleased I was, at the same time telling Mick how
grateful I was to him for letting us stay for so long. If only Mother could
guess how grateful I really was!

On our final night we there, I spent a lot of time crying into Mick's
chest. The last thing I wanted was to go and live somewhere else, miles
away, and never see him again - and I told him so several times. I only
calmed down when he said that I could perhaps come and see him once in a
while - not too often as it wouldn't look right, but at least once in a
while, and provided I told mum where I was, and she allowed me to come.

The next month or so was hell. Not only had we moved miles away, where I
knew nobody, but I also had to change schools and try to make new
friends. It was sheer, bloody hell.  I'd come to look on Mick as a sort of
substitute dad without knowing it. I hadn't realised quite how much he
meant to me, not only from the sex side of things, but as a real friend I
could talk to. I'd never had anyone like that before, and I missed it. I
think mum knew this too and was quite all right when I asked if I could go
and see Mick once in a while.  She would never let me stay the night of
course, and I never asked, but she did let me stay for a couple of hours
once a week or so. I was quite happy with this, and even Mick seemed to be
more relaxed now as there was no fear of our 'messing about' sessions being
interrupted. The sex was also much better than it had been before if that
were possible, probably because we were both much more at ease with each
other and also I was becoming much more aware of what I was.  The best
thing I loved was when we drew the curtains and walked around the house
stark naked, not caring a damn about it. I found it really arousing and had
a permanent hard on when we were doing it - and ended up have some
brilliant sexy times everywhere in the house.

Despite my regular visits to see Mick, I found the times in between weren't
easy to cope with and I would get really pissed off sometimes.  Mick was
lucky, he could go out with his friends and have some fun whenever he
wanted. All I could do was to think about him and have a wank somewhere: it
helped, but wasn't very much fun. I even thought about him at school, and
had to go to the toilets for a wank at least once a day, just to make me
feel better.

It was on one of these occasions that I met Alex. Like me, he was a bit of
a loner and didn't talk to anyone very much and I hadn't taken much notice
of him. That is until I'd picked up from the other kids that he had a
reputation of being a 'queer'. At first I ignored this as every boy who is
not part of a gang, or is somehow different is always labelled queer or
Homo or some other such name, and I didn't for a second believe it were
true. Even if it were, the last thing I wanted was to become friends with
him and so be given the same label. I had enough problems without adding
that particular one to them.

Things changed, however, one History lesson. It was the second lesson of
the day, and for some reason I was first in the room and so could take my
choice of desks. As I preferred to sit at the back where I was less
noticeable, I threw my bag across the room and made for my favourite place;
the corner furthest from the door.  Gradually the remainder of the group
came in and took their places, the seat beside me staying empty.  Empty
that is, until Alex came in. Looking round for a vacant chair, he ignored
the two or three others and placed himself beside me.

"Wotcha!" he said, smiling slightly.

"Hiya!" I replied, and busied myself getting ready for the lesson.

"Turn to page 50 and read Chapter 6 about Queen Victoria" we were
instructed.

"Good."  I thought, a reading lesson. At least we won't have to listen to
him going on for an hour.

Turning over the pages of the book I'd started to read when I got a nudge
in the ribs from Alex.

"Forgot my book. Can I share yours?"

Reluctantly I slid it across so that it was mid-way between us and started
again.

It was difficult for us both to share the same book, and so to make things
a bit easier we moved our chairs closer together, scraping them on the
floor. This disturbed the teacher and brought to his attention the fact
that Alex hadn't got his book - a cardinal sin in his eyes.

"Whose forgotten his book?" he asked sarcastically, getting to his feet.

Three hands went up.

"Fifty lines each - I must remember to bring my History book to class," and
with that resumed his seat.

"Shit!" Alex whispered, pulling a face.

Looking at him I smiled in sympathy.

Turning back to the page, I tried to start reading again, but was a bit
disconcerted to feel Alex's leg pressing against mine under the
desk. Taking a sideways look at him, I saw that he didn't seem to realise
what he was doing as he was apparently concentrating on the book. Mentally
shrugging it off, but quite enjoying the sensation if the truth be known, I
carried on.  I tried experimentally to move my leg away and was only
slightly surprised to feel him follow it.  Looking at him once more, he
flashed me a slight trace of a grin before turning away.

Bollocks!  I was getting a hard on. The combination of the closeness of his
leg, and the reputation he had were doing their work. It had been a good
few days since I had last seen Mick and I was feeling more than a bit
randy. I had decided during the first lesson that I would try and get away
for a wank during this lesson - at least the toilets would be quieter then
and I wouldn't be disturbed. But now that plan was out of the window. I
daren't even stand up, let alone walk out of the classroom - not with the
boner I was getting.

My cock was getting painful and simply had to be adjusted to give it the
room it demanded. Putting my hand in my pocket, I tried to make myself more
comfortable, desperately trying at the same time not to let Alex see what I
was doing. Unfortunately it couldn't be managed; the only way I could do it
was to put my hand down my trousers and move it from the inside.

"Screw it!" I thought, the pain was now so bad that I didn't care if Alex
did see what I was doing, "I've got to do something about it."

Sliding down in my chair slightly I quickly shoved my hand inside my
trousers, pulled my dick up straight and took my hand out. The relief was
tremendous. Returning once again to the book, I leaned over the desk and
tried to find my place. I almost leapt out of my seat when I felt Alex's
hand on my cock, holding my erection! I didn't however make any move to
take it way. Once I'd got over the shock, I was quite prepared for him to
leave it there - I was in fact quite enjoying it.

Alex, for his part, made no effort to move it either. Without looking at
him, I carefully slid down the chair a bit so he could get a better feel if
he wanted - which he did.  There was no way could I continue reading now
and so concentrated on the feeling in my groin instead - and it was
wonderful.  Gradually I slid my hand from the desk and moved towards Alex's
prick. And there it was! It felt huge. He must have been wearing thinner
trousers than me because I thought I could feel every vein on his massively
hard prick, and believe me, was it a nice feeling!  We carried on for some
time like this, pretending to read the book whilst having a splendid grope
of each other under the desk. Alex's touch was so delicate and erotic that
I was in imminent danger of coming in my trousers. In a desperate measure
to avoid this, I reluctantly moved his hand away to give me time to cool
down a bit. At the same time, I mouthed "Wait a bit" to him. He must have
got the message as just nodded slightly at me.  The next move surprised
even me. Instead of putting his hands on the desk as I expected, he
actually undid his zip, took his cock out and looked expectantly at me.

Taking as long a look as I dare at his magnificent tool, I thought "What
the hell!" and took mine out. Slowly and as quietly as we possibly could,
to avoid drawing undue attention to ourselves, we adjusted our positions so
that we could get a better grip of our respective cocks. It had been ages
since Mick had held it, and up until now he had been the only one who ever
had. Alex's touch was much gentler than his, and because his hand was
smaller, it was somehow much different. His technique was also better than
Mick's. Alex was slowly working his fingers up and down my shaft, but
pressing just a bit more firmly with his thumb and first finger each time
he reached the top. I had the greatest of difficulty in not crying out with
the pleasure each time he did it, I even drew blood from biting my lip.

Suddenly I erupted without any warning at all, the spunk shooting up in a
vertical jet, headed straight for the ceiling, curved over and landed on
the open pages of the now forgotten History book. Such was the shock I even
managed to almost knock the desk over with my legs. Pretending to have a
sudden coughing fit, I just managed to stop the desk from going completely
over as I apologised to the teacher who, thankfully, just nodded in my
direction. Alex was almost bursting with suppressed laughter as I resumed
my place.

"Bastard!" I mouthed.

His only reply was to slide down his chair and toss himself off as I
watched, fascinated.  To cap it all, we spent what little remained of the
lesson smearing our joint pools of spunk all over the desk top, Alex
finally using his pen to scratch on the desk "Alex and Gareth wanked here,"
together with the date.

Alex and I wanked each other off quite a lot in the weeks to come, almost
always in the History lesson as it was one of the few times we were
actually in the same group. I am sure that Alex looked forward to these
lessons almost as much as I did, but we had to take great care not to make
it too obvious what we were doing.

Much as I was beginning to like Alex, I wasn't yet prepared to have our
friendship public knowledge. His reputation, justly deserved as I had found
out, was causing him a lot of problems in school. Apart from the regular
and frequent name-calling, he was also the but of quite a lot of physical
bullying. He seemed to cope with most of it OK, but once in a while it got
to him and he skipped school for a few days. I was sure that I couldn't
cope with life as well as he did, and in any case why create the problem
for myself.  As a result of my decision, I avoided contact with him as much
as possible during school time, but we did meet outside school quite a
lot. Most days we managed to 'accidentally' meet each other outside the
school gates and walk part of the way home together. It was during one of
these walks home that thanks to Alex, I found another outlet for my rapidly
growing sexual appetite.

Part of our route homewards took us through a park, in the middle of which
was a toilet half-hidden in a clump of trees. I knew it was there of
course, but had never actually used it as I was a bit afraid of its
isolation. One day Alex and I sat talking on one of the park benches for
some reason, I can't remember what we were talking about now, but I think
Alex had deliberately chosen that particular bench for a reason which was
to become clear just a bit later. The one he had chosen was directly in
front of these toilets and I couldn't help but notice how busy they seemed
to be, and commented on this.

Alex gave me a strange sort of look and said "What are you, daft or
something?"

Suddenly, it dawned on me. I must have been particularly stupid not to
guess why it was so popular. At that time I'd never thought about the
possibilities that public toilets held, after all I was still fairly new to
the game and was quite satisfied with the fun that Mick, and now Alex, and
I had.

My interest in the goings-on in the toilet increased and I kept a good
look-out for people going in and out of it.

"You can make a fortune in there," Alex said just loud enough for me to
hear.

"How?" I said stupidly, realising as soon as I said it what he meant.

"Sorry," I added quickly, and paused. "Have you ever ..........?" I left
the question unfinished.

"Yeah. Lots of times. Sometimes you can get as much as a tenner."

I was interested, and not a little excited by the prospect and wanted to
learn more. "Tell me then. What do you do?"

"The best thing to do," Alex explained, "Is to hang about outside for a
bit. If a man looks at you as he walks past and you like him, you can give
him a little nod or smile at him a bit. If he nods or smiles back then he's
interested and you follow him into the toilet. When you get inside, you
just ask him how much and he'll say five or ten pounds. Tell him OK and
he'll give it to you."

"Christ!" I expleted, "I wouldn't dare!"

"It's OK, honest," Alex replied, "It's ever so easy, and all they want is a
quick wank or to suck you."

I sat in silence for a minute or two absorbing this fascinating
information.

"Do you wanna give it a try?" he enquired, "I'll show you if you like."

Intrigued, and now feeling somewhat excited by the prospect of actually
getting some money for doing something I liked anyway, I agreed.

"Great!" Alex said, "Go and sit on that bench over there so that we're not
seen together, and watch what I do."

Seeing the bench about 20 or 30 metres away, I quickly ran over to it and
sat watching Alex.  It wasn't long before a man of about forty walked past
Alex and looked at him. The man walked on a bit further and turned round to
walk back the way he'd came. When he got to Alex he slowed down, looked at
him again and nodded. Alex looked straight at him and nodded back.  I
watched, rather nervously I admit as they walked towards the toilet, about
ten metres apart.

Some five minutes later I was relieved to see Alex leave the building and
come towards me.

Wordlessly he showed me a ten pound note.

"What did you do?" I asked with a mixture of shock and surprise.

"Let him toss me off. But I couldn't do much because I've come twice today,
but he didn't seem to notice."  "It's easy." he added, "Do you wanna go?"

I wasn't at all sure about this and was more than a little afraid but I
didn't want Alex to see this and so I said that I would.

"Go on then. Go and sit on the other bench. I'll wait here for you."

Nervously I got up and walked across to where we had been sitting just a
few minutes before.

I hadn't been there for more than two minutes when a man of about 25 walked
past and smiled at me. I smiled back and nodded. I didn't think than man
had seen what I did, but nevertheless he went into the toilet and I
followed.  He was standing at one of the piss holes when I got in and so I
went to another one about two metres away. Getting my semi-erect cock out
with some difficulty, I pointed it down the urinal and tried to piss.
Glancing round at the man, half-afraid, I saw he was looking down at my
cock and smiling. He was holding his limp tool in his hand so that I could
get a good look at it.

"How much?" he mouthed at me.

"Ten pounds," I whispered back.

"OK. Let's go in there," he said quietly, indicating one of the empty
cubicles behind us.

Surprisingly, my fear had vanished as I quickly followed him in and bolted
the door behind us.

With a speed that astonished me, he had my belt undone and my trousers down
before I knew what was happening. Without a word he dropped to his knees
and took my now rock-hard prick in his mouth and sucked.

It was brilliant! He must have been an expert sucker because it was an
absolutely fantastic feeling. I don't know what he did, or how he did it,
but I could hardly breath with the indescribable pleasure I felt. I even
put my hands on his head and pushed it down so I could get as much of my
cock in his mouth as I possibly could.  I didn't even care when I heard
someone go into the next cubicle and close the door - at that moment in
time, the whole world could have ended and I wouldn't have noticed, I was
on a completely different planet.

It was with not a little sadness that I soon came; I wanted the feeling to
go on for ever. And I came in such amounts that I wouldn't have thought
possible. I couldn't remember making so much before, and that was after I'd
had a wank in the toilets at school during afternoon break! Reluctantly the
man let my cock go and stood up.  I could just see a bit of my come
glistening on his lips as he hurriedly took a ten pound note from his
pocket and thrust it into my hand.

"Fucking wonderful!" he whispered as he unbolted the door and slid out
quickly.

Feeling a bit shaken, I re-bolted the door and sat down on the basin to
collect my thoughts. Unbelievingly I looked at the note in my hand. Ten
pounds! And it only took two minutes! I felt a lot better, and more than a
bit pleased with myself.

I wasn't even embarrassed when I left the cubicle and saw a man staring at
me from the urinals - I simply smiled back at him and left the building.

Alex was still sat on the bench watching for me.

"Well?" he asked

"Yeah. Great." I grinned at him, "Look, I got a tenner."

"Well done!" he laughed. "Come on let's go."

Together we ran as fast as we could to the park gates where we
stopped. This was where we went our different ways and just as if nothing
had happened we agreed to see each other at school tomorrow.

For the next week or so Alex and I went to the park almost every day, and I
managed to get myself a tenner every time. Most of the time the men just
wanted to toss me off, and for me to do the same to them. Some of them also
wanted to suck me, at first I didn't mind this - I quite liked it in fact,
but I became a bit careful after a while as one of them bit my cock so hard
that it bled. It was always worth another five anyway.

I also went to the park on the first Saturday I could, this time without
Alex.  When I got there, the park was full of mums and their kids playing
about. I tried to avoid them to start with, but some of them were giving me
odd looks, and one lady even told me not to hang about near the toilets as
'there were some funny men about!'

The best times to go there was just after it got dark. The place got a lot
busier then, and I even managed to get picked up by some quite good looking
younger men: they were the best as they always paid more and weren't too
rough.  It was from one of these men that I learned something else than was
new to me.  He was called Deryck and must have been about twenty years old.
I'd gone to the park after tea and was just wandering about, seeing what
was happening when I spotted Deryck coming towards me along the
footpath. As we got nearer to each other, he looked at me and smiled, but
didn't say anything. After we had passed, I walked on just a bit further
and then turned round to see what he was doing - just as he was doing the
same thing. I thought he was really good looking and would have loved to
have some 'messing about' with him, but I thought that he couldn't possibly
be gay as he was much too handsome.  Anyway, I nodded at him, smiled and
went to sit on a nearby bench hoping he would come across to me.  To my
amazement he did.

Sitting next to me, he asked if I was all right. Telling him that I was, I
added that it was a bit cold though.

"Do you want a bit of warming up?" he asked, with obvious meaning.

"Wouldn't mind," I replied.

Telling me to follow him, he surprised me by not walking to the toilets,
but towards a small clump of trees a little distance away.  Looking warily
around, I was pleased to see that there was no one in sight, so I ran and
caught him up.

"The toilets are too public, it's better over here," he explained, "There's
a bit of a clearing in the middle - no one will see us there."

He was right. There was a bit of a space in the middle of the trees; it had
obviously been used before as there were lots of empty drink cans and food
packets all over the place, probably left there by kids, I thought. The
clearing had one big advantage over the toilets as far as I could see - we
could lay down instead of having to stand up in the somewhat cramped space
in a toilet cubicle, and this was what Deryck had in mind. Taking his coat
off, he carefully spread it on the ground and sat on it, asking me to sit
with him.

Once we got ourselves comfortable, he asked me what I liked to do.

"Don't know. Just messing about and sucking I think."

"OK," he answered unfastening his trousers ands sliding them down to his
knees.  Copying him, I soon had my trousers and pants around my ankles. My
cock, already hard sprang out, seemingly pleased to get some fresh air.

"Beautiful!" he whispered, "That's really nice."

Deryck's cock wasn't much bigger than mine I was pleased to find out. Some
of the men I'd been with had enormous pricks and I found that because I
couldn't get my hand all the way round it, I didn't like it as
much. Deryk's however was a perfect size and I could get my whole hand
round it quiet comfortably.  I was still playing with it whilst he was
sucking me off when he suggested that we tried a "69".  I had never heard
of this before, and somewhat nervously asked him what it was.

He explained it to me, and the idea sounded fascinating, and so I turned
round so that my face was buried in his groin.  With some difficulty he
managed to get my prick in his mouth, and we both started to suck.  I had
had enough practice by now to know what to do, and I really liked it,
especially when the cock was small enough for me to get almost all of it in
my mouth.  We were having a great time, both sucking like mad when I felt
his hands on my bum. At first I thought he was just holding me, but he soon
managed to press his finger against my bum hole and try to get it inside.
The pain was so great that I stopped sucking and asked him to stop because
it was hurting so much.

"Never had it before?" he asked kindly.

"No, never," I replied.

"That's a pity. You might like it," he answered, "Let me try again, and
this time I'll be careful not to hurt you."

Slowly he tried to push his finger in my bum, but it hurt such a lot that I
had to make him stop.

Reluctantly he did as I asked and we continued just sucking each other
until we came.

He must have liked what we did because he actually gave me twenty pounds,
which is more than I had ever been given before.

"Can I see you again?" he asked as we were getting dressed.

"Yeah. I'm here most nights at about seven," I told him.

"Good, I'll keep an eye out for you," he said as we carefully crept out of
the trees, "See you tomorrow."

That night in bed, I was thinking about what Deryck had tried to do, and
pushed an experimental finger into my bum.  It didn't seem so painful as
when he did it, but then I could stop when it hurt too much.  Eventually I
managed to get almost all of my finger in and started to wiggle it about to
see what it felt like.  Amazingly, I got an instant erection and a
wonderful arm glow seemed to spread all through my body. This was too much!
I started to toss myself off with an energy I hadn't had for a long time,
at the same time wriggling my finger for all I was worth!

When I came, it arrived in fountains - much more strongly than it usually
did, and seemingly much more of it.  What had I missed, not letting Deryck
do what he wanted!  There and then I made my mind up that however much it
hurt, I would let him do it properly next time. Then a sudden thought
struck me - what if it wasn't a finger, but a prick?  My by now limp cock
suddenly sprang to life at the mere thought of it - and what a thought it
was! Christ!

Unfortunately I never saw Deryck again, despite my visiting the park as
often as I could and searching desperately for him.  I had decided that
much as I would like someone to try and put their dick up my bum, the
toilet wasn't the place to try it. Apart from the confined space, I was
sure that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from making a noise and that
wouldn't be a good idea.

Pausing for thought, I put my pen down and looked at the clock. Almost
midday! I had spent almost two hours writing, and hadn't even got
dressed. Not only that, but I had also been sat with a boner on for what
must have been all that time.  There was only one thing to do about that I
decided, and this time locked the door before I lay on the bed and had a
marvellous wank, thinking of Deryck and what might have happened.

Chapter Six

I had a quick shower, got dressed and was sat staring out of the window
when I noticed Martin walking down the path towards the front door.  Making
my mind up to show him the latest bit of my writing, I carefully folded the
papers up and stuffed them into an envelope, wrapping several layers of
Sellotape round to make sure that it couldn't accidentally come open.
Going downstairs to join the others for dinner, I made sure than no one was
around when I quickly put the envelope into the inside pocket of Martin's
coat, making sure that it was folded back so that no one could see it.

Luckily I found an empty seat next to him at the table and was so able to
tell him about the letter in his pocket. When I did so, I was very glad to
see that he seemed pleased to hear this and said that he was looking
forward to reading it.

"I'll try and get it back to you tonight," he said softly so that no one
could hear, "Leave your door open and I'll try and get there 'bout
midnight."

With that he left the room with a gang of the other kids who had decided to
go and have a game of football in the park. For once I felt a slight tinge
of regret in not liking the game very much as I would have enjoyed the
chance to have a more or less quiet chat with Martin. Not only that but I
might also have been able to get a rare look at the other boys as they were
getting changed after the game. Always assuming I hadn't been grounded I
thought wryly. Still, there was always tonight to look forward to.

I didn't feel like writing again during the remainder of the day, spending
most of it playing computer games. Even this got boring after a while and
so I even made a gesture at tidying my room up - amazing what effect
boredom can have on you.

During the early evening I watched television but as the night got on I
began to think more and more about Martin and less and less about the TV
programmes.


javu35@yahoo.co.uk