Date: Tue, 5 Jun 2012 17:58:20 +0100
From: Paul Turnbull <paul.turnbull13@gmail.com>
Subject: Three boys I knew part 3 - Keith

Three boys I knew part 3 -- Keith

Those of you who have read my account of Robert and Colin will know that
these events took place when I was between 12 and 14. I lived in a large
Vicarage as my father was the Vicar of a nearby Parish Church, and
consequently I lived within a happy albeit sheltered and relatively strict
environment. I am certain it was because of that I found the sexual
liaisons I started to have at 12 and a half to be absolutely
thrilling. This is what happened with Keith, the last of the 3 boys with
whom I had sex. By the way, if you feel any empathy for what I have written
I'd love to hear from you about your (genuine) experiences at this age. I
have already received 7 or 8 very kind and supportive messages from some of
you, and the phrase you nearly all have used is 'this strikes a chord with
me!' Just to clarify it, my email is paul.turnbull 13 without the space
between turnbull and 13.

Shortly after my 13th birthday I was able to ejaculate and I started to
masturbating every night in bed...and I mean every night. My mother had
finally bought me Jockey Y Front briefs, and the simple process of putting
them on or taking them off reminded me of Robert. I would think about him
and wish we could have had some sort of things as I had done with
Colin. Then I would think about the impish grins Colin used to give me and
imagine we were masturbating together as Robert and I had just started to
do. At school I was looking at other boys in a way I had not previously
looked as I was assessing their sexual attraction and suitability to be a
'special' boy friend. I soon realised that I was not sexually attracted to
the boys I knocked around with on a daily basis, but I was attracted to
many other boys even though I didn't know the names of most of them. I did
my best to haunt the changing rooms most afternoons where there were always
boys in various stages of undress and, not infrequently, naked. Whenever I
saw a naked boy I would look at his genitals and bum and then, in bed at
night, I would often masturbate thinking about him. The truth was though, I
was far too scared to make the first move lest the boy concerned spread the
word round that I 'liked' other boys. I now realise there MUST have been
other boys the same as me, going through puberty, who would have greatly
enjoyed a sexual liaison.

The other organisation where boys were to be found was in the Church Scout
Group. I had joined several years back when my father had suggested I
joined either the Scouts or the Choir. I can't say I was the most
enthusiastic of Scouts but it was certainly a better place to be in than
the Choir. There were well over 20 boys in our group -- maybe even 30 --
aged between 11 and 16 and I was now beginning to find some of the younger
ones sexually attractive. If anybody tells you that their Scout Group is a
hotbed of homosexuality then I should be inclined to disbelieve them --
ours was certainly not.  Normal lewd boy chat yes, but in the 3 years I was
a member I never once heard of any sexual activity between the scouts;
well, that is apart from Keith and myself!  I think I would have been 13
and a half when I began looking at Keith who had just turned 13, but how to
initiate sex, or even mention it to him, completely eluded me to start
with. You might describe Keith as a perfectly ordinary 13 year old
schoolboy -- pleasant enough but not outstanding. He lived about 2 miles
from the Church in the opposite direction to the Vicarage and went to the
best school in the area after the Grammar School. He was well liked in the
Scouts as he had a non-confrontational and friendly personality. Perhaps he
wasn't cute as was Colin and maybe not as good looking as Robert, but he
wasn't bad looking either. He was about average height for a boy just
turned 13 with a slim, but not skinny, body. His bottom slightly stuck out
which appealed to me. I had seen him changing in and out of his Scout
uniform once or twice so I knew he wore exactly the same style of white
Aertex underpants as Robert and I had done before getting our Y Front
briefs.  Accordingly I had already enjoyed one or two bedtime masturbatory
fantasies about him, but it was only after a visit to the swimming baths a
few months later that some sort of sexual telepathy between the two of us
developed.

On those rare occasions that the Scoutmaster hadn't prepared anything in
advance for our Friday evening meetings the easiest thing for him to do was
to pack us all off to the swimming baths for an hour or so. He always knew
it would be a popular decision. On this particular Friday evening I was one
of the last out of the pool and back to the changing rooms. They were the
open type with slatted wooden benches and lockers round the walls for your
clothes, and as I approached my locker I noticed Keith -- just in his
underpants -- drying the top half of his body. It was not the first time I
had seen his underpants however, this was the first time I had seen him
ONLY in his underpants and I couldn't help staring. His underpants just
covered his sexy bum, and it was plain to see from the bulge at the front
that was no longer a 'little' boy. I felt my cock stiffening as I stared
but didn't notice that Keith had spotted me ogling at him.

When I looked up and saw he had spotted me checking him out (I think that's
the phrase Nifty authors use these days) I muttered something like, "nice
underpants" to him and hurriedly looked for my towel. I was mortified he
had caught me looking at him in that way but I needn't have worried. Keith
gave me a lovely smile, and now it was his turn to watch me as I pulled
down my Speedos and hastily threw my towel round me to cover my cock which
was beginning to misbehave itself. Somehow I managed to get my Y Fronts on
before my cock was too swollen, but clearly it was enlarged and sticking
up.  Keith could see I had an erection; he kept glancing at me and smiling
and, for whatever reason, any embarrassment I was feeling disappeared. He
finished dressing before I did and kindly waited for me after the others
had left. As we walked back together to the Church hall where we had left
our bikes I remember saying to him in as matter of fact a voice as I could
muster, "Oh, I used to have underpants like you've got before my mum got me
Y Fronts". His reply, in a similar matter of fact voice was "I think my
mum's going to buy me some Y Fronts next time".

Back at the hall it was my responsibility to check there was nobody left
inside, then to lock up and take the key back to my father in the
Vicarage. It was mid May and at around 8.00 pm still a sunny evening. Keith
hung around me while the other boys drifted off on their bikes and the
Scoutmaster packed as many as he could into his car for a lift home. I
sensed it was going too be now or never with Keith, so when they had all
gone I asked him if he would help me check that nobody was left in the
hall. We both knew there was nobody but we went through the motions of
checking, and finally -- when we were checking the toilets - I found the
courage to use a phrase similar to the one Robert had used when he first
seduced me, "Can I see your underpants again Keith? -- I'll show you
mine". Well, I might just as well have said, "Lets slip our trousers and
underpants down to our ankles and masturbate each other".

Keith too had felt the sexual tension building up; he was ready and eager
to oblige.  Without further ado we went into a toilet cubicle and locked
the door.  Once our shorts were down I rubbed my tented briefs onto his
tented Aertex underpants, and sooner rather than later we were rubbing our
stiff cocks together. I asked him if he knew what wanking was and, on
receiving an affirmative smile from him, we quickly masturbated each other
to completion. OMG -- it was the first time I had made another boy
ejaculate and the first time another boy had made me ejaculate. And what a
lovely feeling it was too. We hurriedly dressed -- I don't know why as
there was nobody around -- and went home. His parting words to me being,
"See you next Friday". So finally, not long off my 14th birthday, I had
found the boy of my dreams to masturbate with! Needless to say I thought
about him every night for the following 7 days and couldn't wait to see him
again. I wasn't in the least bit worried he would tell anyone as, unlike
Colin, he was a really decent boy. I just hoped he would want to do it
again.

He did indeed and, for the rest of the summer term, we followed the same
pattern on Friday evenings in a toilet cubicle after everyone had gone
home. He told me he had never expected me to want to wank with another boy
-- this because my father was the Vicar I suppose. All we did was rub our
cocks together and then perform mutual masturbation -- it was everything I
had ever wanted, especially with such a nice boy.  There was no kissing, no
sucking nor anything really anal. I would have enjoyed doing with Keith
what Colin and I had done or to have rubbed the tip of my cock against his
pink ring, but there was no way I was going to risk trying something that
might put him off. I had enjoyed rubbing cocks together since the very
first time with Robert, and consequently I always tried to prolong this
part of my sex sessions with Keith. I liked it when our cocks were very
stiff and we were holding each other close as then the undersides of our
cocks were rubbing together. (I have only very recently learned that this
is called 'frotting') The other thing I liked doing while our cocks were
rubbing together was to slip my hands round his waist and down on to his
naked bottom. Oh, how magical it was to gently feel and massage the lovely
curves of a 13 year old boy's bottom! And then, when we could wait no
longer, to feel his fingers on my cock. I finally knew what I had long
suspected; that to feel the fingers of another boy on your cock was 10
times, maybe 100 times nicer than the feel of your own fingers.

By the end of term I knew we would be moving in August but there was still
the week long Scout Camp to look forward to at the very end of July. Once
at camp Keith and I made sure we were next to each other in the tent and,
at night, manoeuvred our mattresses as close together as we dared. By now I
was 14, my cock was about 6" when stiff and I was capable of shooting a
good volume of spunk -- especially with the help of Keith's fingers. It
wasn't easy masturbating each other with half a dozen younger boys still
wide awake in the tent when they should have been asleep, but we managed to
slip our hands under each other's duvet and do it successfully every
night. After camp was over I realised straight away there would be no more
sex for the foreseeable future, but the business of moving to a new home, a
new Church and a new school somehow dulled the pain I felt. It was only 6
months or so down the line that I really began to understand what I had had
and what I had lost. I was now masturbating two or three times a day --
once or twice in the toilets at school and then again in bed at night --
and always thinking about one boy or another. And so it went on throughout
my schooldays as I never again had the courage even to attempt to seduce
another boy.

Ten years later, after I had finished at university, someone from our old
Parish sent my father the latest edition of a local newspaper with an
article about the refurbishment of the Church bells. I wasn't much
interested in the bells, but there was another article and a wedding
photograph both of which interested me greatly. The article that caught my
eye was about a 24 year old man who was up in court for 'taking a car
without the owner's consent'. The 24 year old was none other than Colin
Adamson and the car he was accused of taking belonged to Robert F -- the
boy neighbour who had first seduced me. I was not totally surprised to read
that, according to the report, Colin had already built up a bit of
'form'. Then the wedding photograph was of my Keith and his bride. I
couldn't believe it as he was only 23 - I felt betrayed! As it happened I
was married only a few years later but divorced in my mid 40s -- by and
large it had been a happy and fruitful 20 years.

It's funny though, here is a direct quotation from a Nifty author who
previously wrote about his boyhood experiences, "As time goes on I am more
and more convinced that those of us who, as boys, enjoyed sexual
relationships with other boys never forget them.  In fact we remember them
with ever increasing pleasure".

Why that should be I wonder?