Date: Fri, 03 Feb 2006 00:40:38 +0000
From: Pink Panther <pinkpanther2@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: New submission: 'The Running Boy' Chapter 13

The story below is a work of erotic fiction.
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This story contains scenes of sexual interaction involving underage boys. If
this is not what you wish to read, please leave this page now.
Feedback, including contrsuctive criticism, is always welcome and I always
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                          CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Most of the big races we've run this season have been under-fifteens,
so I've had to race against kids a year older than me. The Southern
Counties was a disaster. It was run over a quagmire at Parliament
Hill Fields in North London. I struggled in twenty third. Alex, who's
almost as bad in the mud as I am, finished nineteenth. Philip and
Deon killed us! They were ninth and tenth. Four in twenty three was
good enough for third team, which is still pretty good, running
against club teams. The Inter-Counties in Derby went much better. All
four of us were in the Kent team. Running against all the best kids
in the country I finished twenty fifth, an improvement on my fortieth
place in last year's English Schools. I beat all the rest of our crew
too, though we were all pretty close together It wasn't brilliant,
but it was okay. The only disappointment was that we just missed out
on the medals; we didn't have anybody right up there and it cost us.

Today's different; it's the Kent Schools Championships, the selection
race for the English Schools. Deon's been praying all week that it'll
be wet and muddy. His prayers go unanswered; the course is firm and
dry. The Intermediate Boys run first. Now it's Alex and Philip's turn
to run against older kids. It's four miles too, quite a bit further
than they're used to. Kent have got some very good runners in this
age group, so as expected it's a very tough race. Alex and Philip do
very well; Alex fifth, Philip seventh. They beat all our year eleven
kids too. A couple of the year elevens train with us and struggle to
keep up, so I expected Alex and Philip to beat them, but the others
run with the senior `B' squad, so I'd thought they'd to do better.
I'm guessing they don't train as hard as we do.

Now it's our turn. After less than a mile Deon and I have broken away
from everyone else. I just run on his shoulder till we're a hundred
metres from the line then outsprint him to the finish, same as usual.
Greg runs really well to get fifth, Adrian finishes tenth. Martin
usually beats Greg, but he's had a cold all week and struggles in
thirteenth. With only eight to run at the English Schools he'll miss
out. That's tough, but it's the way things go sometimes. I guess I'll
need to give him some TLC when he's better; I'm not letting him near
me while he's got a cold though!

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

So this is it, the English Schools' Championships, the event we've
trained for all season. It's being held at Graves Park in Sheffield.
We travel to Sheffield the day before the race and spend the night
being looked after by local families; that's part of the English
Schools' tradition. Deon and I stay with Mr. and Mrs. Nicholls.
They've got two boys, Peter who's twelve and Jeremy who's ten. Mr.
Nicholls and the two boys all run, so we've got plenty to talk about.
They warn us about how tough the course is, although Mike and the
other team managers have told us that already. After a great meal and
a very pleasant evening it's time for bed. Deon and I are sharing a
room with twin beds. I've seen Deon naked plenty of times in the
showers and that, but this is different somehow. He strips down to
sleep just in a pair of boxers, the same as me. His legs are amazing,
so long and slim. We pop into our beds on opposite sides of the room.
I can't help thinking about Deon and how I'd love to have him here in
bed with me. My cock's throbbing like crazy. There's never been the
slightest hint from Deon that he'd be interested of course, so I know
there's no chance of that happening. Eventually I drop off to sleep.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

On a sunny spring morning we arrive at Graves Park. We've been told
by everybody how tough this course is going to be, but it's not until
you actually see it that it really comes home to you. On the one hand
it's firm and fast, but the hills are severe; I've never seen a
course like it. The start is uphill and the finish is almost at the
top of the course. The last mile of each race is almost all uphill,
and these aren't gentle gradients we're talking about. We're looking
at climbing a couple of hundred feet from the lowest point on the
course, dropping down about half that then climbing another three
hundred feet to the top corner of the park before dropping down
slightly to a flat run-in of about three hundred yards to the finish.
Wow! Even just strolling round the course is hard work. The danger is
obvious, although Mike and everyone else have spelt it out for us: go
too fast over the first mile or so and you'll be on your hands and
knees on those two big climbs at the end of the race. Getting this
right is not going to be easy.

As we complete our inspection of the course I spot a familiar face.
It's Jake, and he's got Mark with him! That is so special; I'd no
idea they were coming. I trot across to them.

"Hi! How did you manage to get here?" I ask, grinning from ear to
ear.

"Neither of us has a match this weekend, so we were able to get pass-
outs," Jake tells me. "We went to Mark's place last night then drove
here this morning."

"A couple of our friends are running in the senior race. Officially,
we're here supporting them," Mark says, smiling warmly at me. "It's
one hell of a course, isn't it?"

"Yeah! I'll have to be careful not to go off too fast."

I walk back to rejoin my team mates. It's such a boost having Jake
here to watch.  I'm going to have to run well now!

The Intermediate Boys run first, the same as they did at the trials
races. I watch the start. Because the race is so big - over three
hundred kids - each team has a pen and you have to line up one behind
the other. That's going to be okay for me and Deon because we'll be
right at the front, but it's rough on Philip who's almost at the
back. After a hundred yards he's nearly last.

It's about ten minutes before they pass us again. Alex is doing okay,
well inside the first hundred, and Philip is moving through too, he's
about halfway down the field. The Intermediate Girls race before we
do, so we can afford to stroll down to the hairpin bend at the top of
the first big climb. I can hardly believe what I'm seeing. Philip is
absolutely flying! He's passed Alex, who's clearly starting to
struggle, and is up to around sixtieth place. I watch from a distance
as they make their way up that last big climb. He's into the top
fifty and passing people all the time. Wow! This really is the way to
do it!
We wander over towards the finish. Philip finishes twenty eighth.
That has to be his best run ever. I feel so pleased for him; I know
how hard he's worked for it. Jake will be pleased too. Better still,
Kent have won the team race, with Philip fourth of the six scoring
runners. It's another huge confidence boost. If Philip can run that
well, I know that Deon and I can. As a bit of a reality check, Alex
finishes one hundred and forty ninth. Like they say in horse racing,
he didn't get the trip.

With the Intermediate Girls race underway it's time to start our warm
up. We need to think hard about how we do this. Go off too fast and
we'll struggle towards the end, just like Alex did. Take it too easy
and we'll leave ourselves too much to do. We know who the favourites
are. Michael Forrester from Lancashire won the North of England
against kids a year older and finished fourth in the Inter Counties.
He'll wear number 243. Paul Thompson from West Yorkshire was fourth
in the North of England and twelfth in the Inter Counties. He'll be
wearing 689. I don't know either of them. These aren't the kids who
beat me in the Inter Counties last season; they've only emerged this
year. I don't even know what they look like.

Ten minutes to go and it's time to strip down to our running kit. Now
we can see the numbers the other guys are wearing. I spot Michael
Forrester almost immediately. He's about 5'10" and looks very strong.
The muscle definition on his legs is incredible for a kid our age.
He's pretty hairy too; it looks like he might already be shaving.
Deon and I look at each other. We don't need to say anything; the
decision has been made. If Forrester's going to set a really fast
pace we're going to let him get on with it and see what happens. A
few moments later we spot Paul Thompson too. He looks quite ordinary,
much like us, I guess. He does have one big advantage though. He
comes from Leeds, barely twenty miles away, and is bound to know this
park really well. He should know how to pace himself round here. It
all depends what he does. If he goes with Forrester from the start we
may have to let him go; if not, he could be a useful pace-setter for
us.

It's time to line up. Although I won the trial race, Deon's at the
front of the pen with me right behind him. That's the way we run;
Deon's the natural front-runner who always kicks out hard, I follow
his pace. The gun goes. The start of these big races is incredible.
We're running almost flat out just to get ourselves up there. After
three hundred yards things start to sort themselves out. Deon and I
are both in the top dozen or so; it's time to settle into our
running. As expected, Michael Forrester is setting a ferocious pace,
taking several other kids with him. We take a look around. Paul
Thompson is just ahead of us, sitting off it slightly. He's obviously
decided not to take Forrester on. Over the next quarter mile we close
him down. It's time to relax; we're running just outside the top ten,
maintaining a good pace while using as little energy as possible.

As we run towards the lowest point on the course with a little over a
mile left we can see Michael Forrester already onto the first of the
two big climbs. He's well clear of the field and going away with
every stride. Nobody else has made the turn yet; they're all lined up
in front of us. We pick up a couple of places before we turn the
corner. I'm still feeling pretty good, but the real test starts now.
Somehow I'm expecting Thompson to really attack this first climb, but
he doesn't; he just maintains his rhythm. Before we reach the top
we've picked up three more places. The sharp right hander leads us
onto the steepest descent on the course. Thompson flies down it like
a mountain goat, with Deon and me hanging on as best we can. By the
time he starts the second climb he's got ten yards on us. Right now
there's nothing we can do; just try to follow him and pick up as many
places as we can.

Halfway up we're running fifth and sixth with Paul Thompson already
up to third place, twenty metres ahead. As we reach the top we've
each taken one more place, Paul clear in second place, Deon and I
right behind the boy who's running third. Deon tries to go past him,
but now we're onto the flat he's able to show more resistance than
the other kids have. He's obviously going to fight it out all the
way. We drop down towards the finish, the three of us locked
together. Paul Thompson has stretched his advantage to maybe twenty
five yards. I've got to get this right. If I judge it correctly and
give it absolutely everything, I might just catch him. I settle
myself, preparing for the attack.

I start to sprint with two hundred yards to go. I drop Deon and the
other boy almost immediately. Paul Thompson is coming back to me with
every stride, but he's still running strongly. Will I catch him in
time? If I do, will I have enough left to beat him to the line? It's
all about concentration, relaxation and maintaining my form. I do
catch him in time, forty-odd yards from the line. He puts up a
spirited response, but I've got the momentum. I barely look at him,
just staying focussed on my own sprinting. I hit the finish line five
yards clear. Seconds later Deon runs through in fifth place, having
lost out in the battle with the other boy we were running with. It's
a bit sad that he loses out like that so often, especially in big
races, but Mike says that as he gets older and puts a bit more muscle
on he'll get faster too. Then I'll really have a challenge on my
hands!

So I've finished second in the English Schools' Championships.
Forrester won by well over half a minute; there's no way I could have
beaten him, so I guess this is the best result I could have got.
That's pretty special in the most important race of the season.
Mike's delighted, of course, but he reserves most of his praise for
Greg, who comes in sixtieth and helps us to second place in the team
race. I understand that though, and it's typical of Mike. Deon and I
did what we were expected to do, more or less. Greg might well have
fallen apart in a race like this, but he didn't. He did what he was
told to do, just like Philip did. He needs Mike to tell him just how
important that is and how well he's run.

Jake and Mark are ecstatic, although they're completely knackered
after running around the course shouting us on. I guess it's not the
sort of exercise they're used to.

"Christ! My legs feel like they belong to someone else!" Mark
comments. "I don't know how you guys do it! That was awesome!"

"So that was Deon you were running with?" Jake queries.

"Yeah, did a great job setting the pace for me, he always does."

"Yeah, he was excellent, pretty cute too!" Jake quips. "Not as cute
as you though!" he adds quickly.

I give him a cheeky grin and pull my tongue out.

"Pleased with that?" he asks.

"Yeah, there's no way I could have won; Forrester's just too strong."

"Fuck! That kid should never have been in the race!" Jake says
vehemently.  "He looks at least seventeen!"

That's about right, I guess. Jake ruffles my hair affectionately and
we go our separate ways. As I rejoin my team mates Deon's mum and dad
are with him. Greg's parents are here too. So where are mine? Don't
ask stupid questions. For a moment I'm hit by a wave of anger and
disappointment; I've just achieved my best ever result in the biggest
race I've ever run in. They should be here to share it with me and
they're not. Just as quickly I put it out of my mind. My schoolwork
and my running are going better than they ever have. More than that,
I've got Jake and I love him to bits. I'm not going to let the fact
that mum and dad aren't here spoil it for me.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0
"I didn't know we were looking after a couple of superstars," Mr
Nicholls says, grinning broadly, as he collects us after the
presentation ceremony. I smile back, feeling very embarrassed. I know
it was only said in fun, but Mike never lets us think of ourselves
like that. More embarrassing still, Peter and Jeremy seem completely
in awe of us. They want to know every detail of how we train. They
ask me how I'm able to sprint so fast at the end of a race. They seem
disappointed when I tell them I don't really know; it's just
something I've always been able to do. Mr. Nicholls shows us videos
of great races from years ago, like Seb Coe winning the fifteen
hundred metres at the Moscow Olympics. I've never seen that before;
it was an unbelievable race. Mr. Nicholls seems very knowledgeable;
he's a good laugh too, totally fascinating to listen to. Before we
know it it's half past ten and time for bed.

I'm still buzzing from the excitement of the day's events and it
looks like Deon is too. We strip down to our boxers, but there's no
way I'm going to be sleeping anytime soon. We sit on my bed with just
the bedside light on, talking quietly about this and that.

"Ryan, are you gay?" Deon asks suddenly, looking right into my eyes.

That's come right out of the blue. I could lie, of course, but why
should I?

"Yes, I am, as it goes. What made you ask?"

He shrugs. "Dunno really. Little things; those seniors that came to
watch us, I've seen you with one of them before. I just wondered;
that's all."

"Right." I say casually.

"It's totally cool as far as I'm concerned," Deon continues. "It's
your life; it's nothing to do with anyone else."

"You're not going to say anything, then?"

He grins. "No, I still want us to be mates. I think it's pretty cool
that you were so honest about it."

"You're not gay, then?" I ask.

"No, don't think so, anyway!" he responds, smiling, "but I still get
pretty horny sometimes, like now."

I glance down. The tent in his boxers tells me all I need to know.

"D'you want to wank me off?" he asks.

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"I haven't had a wank for three days; I always do that before big
races. I just want to find out what it's like to have someone do it
for me."

"Cool!" I whisper, smiling at him, savouring the fact that this isn't
an opportunity I'd ever expected to get. "Let's pull your shorts down
then."

He lifts his hips off the bed, allowing me to push his boxers down
around his thighs. His cock is a bit smaller than mine, a little
under five inches, slimmer than mine too, with average size balls and
a sparse crop of almost black pubic hair. It looks perfect on him. I
take it into my hand and begin to fondle it. It's throbbing wildly.

"Okay?" I enquire.

"Mmmm! Good!"

"Just lie back and relax!" I tell him.

He does just that. I start to wank him properly. This is tame; I want
more! I get myself into position and dive down on him, taking his
whole length into my mouth and sucking for all I'm worth.

"Ryan! Oh!! Ohhh!!!" he moans.

I continue sucking. Having Deon's cock in my mouth feels awesome,
just like Shelby's used to and by the way he's moaning and squirming
around I know he's not going to regret this. I know he won't forget
it in a hurry either. I wonder if he'd like to fuck me, but I guess
that would be going a bit far. I slide my hand down between his legs
and massage the sensitive spot behind his balls. He writhes around on
the bed, gasping and moaning, his breathing getting more and more
ragged.

Oh! Ryan! I'm gonna .. !"

I hold the base of his cock between thumb and index finger and suck
even harder.

"Nng! Nnngg!! Nnnnggg!!! Ohhhhh!!!!"

His cock jerks violently between my lips, spunk spurting over and
over into my mouth. I gulp it down until he's got no more left to
give. I quickly grab my dick and wank myself off into my boxers. I
cum in, like, ten seconds, totally soaking them.

"Fuck! Ryan, that was awesome!" Deon gasps, still breathing like he's
just finished a race. Fuck! I never thought it'd feel that good!"

He looks at my boxers. "Fuck! Looks like you've cum loads too!"

"Yeah, well I guess I needed that as much as you did!" I say,
grinning at him. "And this is just our little secret, right?"

"Yeah! Fuck, I'm not saying anything!" he responds emphatically.
"This doesn't make me gay, does it?" he asks, looking at me
quizzically.

"No, of course not! It just means you're totally horny, like you
said. Now if you wanted to suck mine."

"Nah!" he says, screwing his face up. "I'm not up for that!"

"Right, well I think we might be ready for some sleep now!" I tell
him.

He pulls up his boxers and climbs off the bed.

"Thanks!" he whispers, ruffling my hair.

Moments later he's in the bed on the far side of the room. I quickly
change into a clean pair of boxers and switch off the light. I know
it'll never go any further, but I'm ecstatic that it's happened;
especially that Deon enjoyed it so much. This has been the best
weekend of my life and that was the perfect finale.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Sunday evening we're back at school. Jake and I are together in his
room. Snuggled up to him like this, naked on his bed is just the best
feeling possible. I'm blissfully happy. I know it can't last, of
course. In a few months Jake will leave school and move on to
university and our relationship will be over, but that's the point.
We both know that's what's going to happen so we're determined to
make the most of the time we have together.

We talk like we always do, about the races on Saturday in particular.
Jake's always been so involved in soccer and cricket; he's never had
time to pay much attention to other sports. He's certainly never seen
races like that before. It was an eye-opening experience for him. He
mentions Deon. I'd love to tell him about what happened last night,
but I promised Deon it was our little secret. I don't break promises
like that. Gradually we build towards our inevitable climax.

"So how d'you want it tonight? Jake whispers.

"On my tummy, with you on top of me."

"No problem!"

We pull the pillows into the centre of the bed and spread a towel
over them. I roll a condom onto his dick and lube him up. I get into
position. He works some KY into my bum and lowers himself onto me.
With one thrust he's right inside, his firm, fit body pressed against
mine. This is heaven, the most awesome feeling in the whole world!
I'm so used to it now it doesn't hurt at all. He starts to fuck me,
his rampant cock thrusting repeatedly over my prostate. I'm on cloud
nine and then some. He increases the pace, fucking me harder with
every thrust. My balls are getting tight; the sensations in my cock
are indescribable. Bolts of electricity fire off all over my body, my
bum tightening violently around Jake's thrusting penis.

"Oh! Oh yeah!! Nng! Nnngg!!Ohhh!!! Aaarrrggghhhh!!!!"

Cum gushes out of my cock, soaking the towel. I've brought Jake off
too; his dick rising and jerking deep inside me as his spunk spurts
wildly into the condom. Nothing can ever beat the way that feels;
being fucked like that by a fit young guy that really cares about me
is the biggest thrill possible. Slowly Jake withdraws and removes the
condom, tying off the end so he can get rid of it later. We fall into
an awesome, passionate kiss. I can't find the words to tell him how
much I love him. I want to stay here, spend the night in his bed, but
we both know that's not possible. Slowly, reluctantly we get back
into our clothes. It's time to go. One final kiss and I'm on my way.
Five minutes later I'm back in the junior recreation room behaving as
though nothing's happened.