Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Leafy Suburbs : by (c) Hamilton Joyce.  Mm

   ALEXANDER

   Adults who have not gone through it may not realise changing schools is
a life event on a par with divorce, getting sacked, the death of a parent.
I don't mean that occasion when the whole primary class moves up to
secondary school together, but rather leaving familiar places and faces
behind when parents move and the young boy is alone to face this trauma.

   I was thirteen when my mother decided to move from Central Manchester,
where we had lived in an apartment after my father walked out, to settle in
the leafy, middle-class suburbs.  She worked as a translator and had
finally built a large enough business to pay for the move, and I know she
was keen to remove herself and her son from the inner-city environment. 
Personally, I would have happily stayed in the smoke and noise I knew so
well, but perhaps the change was not really too traumatic for me as I was
something of a loner when a boy, and slow to make or even need friends.  I
had always known I was different.

   Of course, I deeply wanted to be the same as other boys: that is only
natural at thirteen.  I wished my father had not been such a rat, that we
lived in a conventional nuclear family, that I found girls attractive, that
I was bigger and stronger and more popular at school.  This sounds as if I
was unhappy, but I was not, not really.  I tried to fit in, pretending an
interest in girls, and luckily was quite good at cricket, a game which
needs co-ordination and skilled concentration much more than physical
strength.  In fact my short stature was a positive advantage to my batting
(how many of the greatest batsmen have been short-arses!), and probably to
my mean leg-spin bowling too.  If in the communal showers after PE and
Games I got a hard-on, well I was not the only boy who did.

   I had known I was gay for as long as I was a sexual being, and even
before I knew the word!  Before puberty even, I can remember looking with
interest at pictures of athletes and men in swimming trunks and making up
stories about them involving myself as a sort of Robin The Boy Wonder to
their Batman.  At that young age I would feel a heightened excitement in
the presence of men, especially big, strong, silent types.  Over the years
I've given some thought to why this was, and come to the conclusion that
it's probably in my genes, but that being brought up so close to my mother,
with no father, will have reinforced it.  At thirteen I was masturbating
every night and morning, more at weekends and in the holidays, and it was
always accompanied by imagined fancies of sex with men, sometimes splashing
my thin boy-cum onto the picture of an athlete in a glossy magazine. 
However, I was as romantic as any young girl, in contrast to my
schoolfriends who took a hard-headed and masculine view of the objects of
their passion, a collection of tits, legs, mouths and pussies for them to
feel up and hopefully a willing receptical for them to fuck, to spill their
cum into!  No, what I wanted, what turned me on, was to imagine myself
loved and cherished by a handsome, powerful male, who would nonetheless
hold me naked in his arms, possess my mouth and my bottom with his prick,
allowing me the fulfillment of giving him the ultimate pleasure as his
virgin bride.  What I wanted, really, was a marriage in which I was the
submissive, feminine partner to this imagined dominant but caring male. 
When showering naked with my school-mates I would always get a woodie
looking at their bodies, but my nightly fantasies were not of smooth-bodied
boys, but rough, hairy, angular grown men.

   We had moved on the Saturday morning, and Sunday had been spent setting
up the bedrooms, the kitchen and Mother's office (she worked at home mostly
and it was important she was all set up to start again immediately to keep
the cash-flow going).  I tried to suggest I stay at home the Monday and
help with the rest of the unpacking, but Mother, probably realising I
mostly wanted to put off my first day at a new school, packed me off.

   Mother and I had checked out the bus-stop Sunday evening, and I was at
least twenty minutes early Monday morning.  To a lad who was used to the
noise and bustle of the city, these green and leafy suburbs were strange,
but not intimidating.  Everything was so clean and tidy!  I stood at the
bus-stop and looked at the houses around me.  They were, like the one
Mother had just bought, Edwardian 1890s, sort of imitation medieval with
high, red-tiled gables and a cast-iron verandah at the first floor.  This
street must have been for slightly better-off people when it was built as
the houses had three stories while those in our new street had only two.  A
young woman drove away from the drive of the house nearest on the other
side of the road: she was in a nearly-new small, red Peugeot, and I noticed
all the houses had newish cars outside them, clearly well-to-do.  The
nearest house had a smart silver-coloured four-by-four of some sort.

   It was a bright, sunny day.  I was glad we had moved in the middle of
the cricket season, as I was sure I would get into the under-fourteens
cricket team, and this would help me settle in with the new school, giving
me a bit of welcome status.  I looked at my watch.  Still ten minutes.

   I studied the house nearest, my side of the road.  It had been recently
decorated I should think, and the garden was just a large lawn with a few
bushes round the edge: not keen gardeners!  Someone moved, a faint shadow
behind white net curtains on the first floor.  I strained my eyes but could
not make out whether the figure was male or female: certainly adult. 
Finally the bus came and my day started.

   The next morning I was only five minutes or so early.  It had been
raining earlier and was still overcast.  I had been at the bus-stop a
moment or two when the light in the first-floor room went on.  Now I could
see that it was a male figure behind the curtains, a silhouette against the
light behind him.  Or if it was female, she was very tall and
stockily-built.  I strained my eyes, but could not make out any details. 
But what I had seen was enough to spark my imagination in bed that evening.
I lay on my back in my favourite position for wanking, my knees raised so I
could reach under to finger my arse at the right moment.  The fantasy I
played out was one I often used but made the more real by having a location
to place it in.  I imagined taking him his morning coffee and placing it
quietly on the bedside table before leaning over to wake him with a tender
kiss on his lips.  I am naked, as is he, the sheets pulled back to show his
barrel chest, covered with black curly hair, rising and falling as he
breathes, He has a Mexican sort of look, stocky, dark, with a heavy
moustache.  He wakes, and his first act is to enfold me in his arms and
pull me down on top of him.

   This was the moment!  My hand flew up and down my stiff little cock, I
licked my finger, reached under and inserted it in my bottom.  I imagined
him lifting me, placing me, and letting me fall back impaled on a huge,
stiff cock.  I came at that moment, a stream of thin, little-boy cum
stretching from my navel to the middle of my chest, more than I usually
had. As ever, I wiped it with the side of my finger and transferred it to
my mouth, savouring the near-tasteless, but soft and slippery feel.  I was
asleep in moments.

  
..........................................................................

   JOSH

   I wondered why he was so early: he waited at least twenty minutes before
the bus came.  Then I noticed his school uniform looked brand new and
guessed it was his first day and he was making sure he did not miss the
bus. He looked a clean and pleasant lad, I thought, and not for the first
time wished Mabel and I had produced a son instead of two daughters.

   Mabel was still asleep in our double bed, and I went down as usual to
make the coffee.  At one time I would have been rewarded with an embrace
and probably rather good sex when I took it up in the morning, but we had
not had sex for over two years.  There was no particular reason for this:
the intervals just kept getting longer.  A week at first, a month, six
weeks, until finally it stopped all together.  And to tell the truth,
although I still loved her as a friend and companion I no longer fancied
her sexually.  She had become rather fat and very grey.  Grey hair on a
woman's head can be ok, but grey cunt hair is a no-no for me!  I looked at
myself in the bathroom mirror.  Josh Bennett was still a fine figure of a
man, tall, well-built, muscled and no beer-gut, and if his hair was a bit
grey at the sideboards, then it was still long and wavy blonde, like some
rockstar.  At fifty I was really in my prime, I felt.  Before I met Mabel,
when I was still at University, I had played guitar and sung in a student
rock band, and had my pick of the lovely hippy-chicks who followed the
band. I certainly never went a day without good sex in those times!I still
needed sex in middle age, and yet would not be unfaithful to Mabel: I would
not break my marriage vows, though I prided myself that I was still
attractive to women, and there were several neighbours, not to mention the
girls at work, who would have obliged me if asked.  I still felt strong
sexual urges, but not for my wife, and relied entirely on "Mrs Palm and her
five daughters" to satisfy them.

   Thinking about this, my cock hardened.  'Not now!' I thought.  Later
when Mabel went out to her bridge club I would treat myself to a long and
thorough wank, my favourite with baby oil.  I looked at my cock in profile.
Not bad!  Long, broad, veined, and still ever ready.  I gave it a quick
stroke, but heard the kettle boil and went back to the kitchen.

   The next morning I found myself standing at the window watching to see
if the boy was there again.  He came to the bus-stop about ten minutes
early, and I found myself wondering if he could see me through the net
curtains.  I hoped not as I was stark naked (I have always slept naked).  I
could really only just make him out, for the same reason.  I had a distinct
impression he was straining his eyes to see me, but at that moment the bus
came and he was aboard it.

   I found myself thinking about the boy several times during the day.  I'm
an architect and a lot of my work is done in a drawing office at my house,
though I have a splendid office in an eighteenth century townhouse in the
centre of the city, the sort of prestige building a leading architect
should occupy.  Mabel and I could have afforded a much more up-market house
than this suburban classic, but it had so many memories for us, and we
liked the neighbourhood and neighbours, so we never moved, although we had
often discussed it.  That boy in his new school uniform kept returning to
my thoughts, and although I was not yet really thinking of him sexually
(there is such a taboo about sex with young boys that my mind would not yet
get round the idea) my cock would sometimes stiffen.  I decided I would be
on the balcony in the morning to get a better look at him.

   He was on time, five minutes to eight.  As he walked up to the bus-stop
I took a cigarette from my pack and my lighter and went out on the balcony.
Mabel tolerates me smoking in my office (where I have an air-conditioning
unit), but does not like it elsewhere in the house.  I lit up and leaned on
the iron railings.  I was wearing a light cotton, Paisley printed dressing
gown, and was naked beneath.  The boy turned to look at me and our eyes
met, though thirty or so yards apart.  I smiled.  He smiled, and that
boyish face became beautiful!  I waved to him.  He hesitated and waved
back. Then the bus came, a minute or two early.

   That afternoon our eldest daughter, Jessica, phoned.  Her second child
was due at the weekend, and would Mabel like to come up to Newcastle to
look after Toby while she was in the hospital and to help a bit with the
new baby afterwards?  So the next day, Thursday, I was driving most of the
morning, starting very early to avoid at least some of the traffic.  I was
crestfallen at missing a chance to see the boy again, as I had decided I
would go down and talk with him next time.  I would miss him Friday as
well.

  
...........................................................................
.......

   ALEXANDER

   The next morning I finally saw the object of my fantasies, and was
excited to find he even excelled my imaginings.  There was nothing
"Mexican" about him, his hair golden and rather unkempt, like some great
golden bear.  Because he was indeed big built.  As he stood leaning on the
iron tracery railings of his bedroom balcony I could see his strong biceps,
broad shoulders, and where his legs showed beneath the bottom of a clinging
dressing gown I could see they were strong, and covered with golden hair.
Our eyes met, and I felt a sudden tightness in my chest as my heart beat:
he smiled at me, a golden, sunny confident smile, and I smiled back at him.
He waved to me, and I waved back, and as I did so the light breeze caught
at his dressing gown and parted it for a brief instant.  It was only for a
moment, but in my mind's eye I can still see those broad, n muscular
thighs, golden with curly hair, and above all his massive and graceful
cock, arcing down over big hairy balls.  At that moment the bus drew up and
I had to get aboard.  Through the window I saw him flick his cigarette down
into the garden and close the large window behind him.

   All that day my mind returned to the image of that great golden bear,
with his friendly smile and cheery wave.  I tried to imagine what a cock so
large when limp would look like when erect, and wondered how a bottom, my
bottom, could ever accommodate such a wonderful masculine weapon.  I got
into trouble several times through the day for not attending to lessons,
and had to keep stroking my hard, little cock through my trouser pocket.  I
could not wait for evening and bed when I would be able to relieve the
sexual tension the sight of him had built up.

   Mother was a bit surprised when I announced I was tired and would go to
bed early.  I had decided I needed to get used to larger objects in my
bottom than just an index finger, and reckoned that a wax candle from the
cupboard where Mother kept her cleaning and household equipment would be a
good start.  I was sure it would not be as broad as my fantasy lover's
cock, which seemed thicker even when soft, but I had to start somewhere.  I
borrowed the baby-oil from the bathroom cupboard as well, safe that it
would not be missed as it had never been used at all as far as I could
tell. And so naked to bed, with my little cock rock-hard.  The baby oil
meant I could wank for as long as I wanted without rubbing the skin off my
shaft or more painful still my knob.  I had learned this the hard way: a
raw cock spoils a boy's fun for several days.  I now had more precise
details to anchor my fantasy in fact.  I imagined myself beckoned to the
porch of his house, there to be embraced in his strong arms, and to feel
his hard cock pressed up against me.  My fingers slipped gently up and down
my shaft, and I slid a slippery finger into my anus.  There was a spot
there, a sort of lump I had found, which transmitted pleasure through my
arse, my balls, and to my cock.  I pressed on it while I imagined his
finger sliding into me.  I had to tighten my fist on my cock to stop it
coming, but the crisis passed and I was able to wank again.  Now I was
ready for the candle.  It slid easily into my well-oiled anus, and I was
surprised it did not hurt.  Perhaps when he fucked me, bending me over on
his doorstep as he was in my fantasy, that would be pleasurable too.  I
fucked myself with the candle, in and out, as I rubbed my shaft, up and
down, and the orgasm was the biggest I had ever had, two spurts of spunk
splashing up over my chest.  When I tasted and swallowed it it seemed
thicker and more slippery than usual.  I went to sleep with the candle up
me, though it had slipped out by the time I woke up.

   I got up earlier than usual and took a shower.  I wanted to be nice for
him and used some of Mother's lemon-scented shower gel.  I stood and looked
at myself in the wall mirror-tiles, and was pleased with what I saw.  I
still had a deep tan from the beach and sunbathing in the City Park, though
my buttocks and lower belly were very, very white in contrast.  I flexed my
biceps and there was nothing much by way of muscle there, but you could not
say I was skinny either.  I was short, but in proportion and my shoulders
made the top of a good triangle down to my butt when I looked over my
shoulder.  I clenched the muscles of my bottom, and thought it looked firm,
a bit more rounded than a boy's should be but I expected that would change
as I put on more weight and upper-body strength.  My legs were a bit thin,
really, but not terribly so, and looked very long as I stood naked, even
though I am short over all.  I raised my arms over my head and posed again.
There was no sign of hair under my arms yet, and none at all on my chest.
But I had a triangle of fine golden-blonde hair at the base of my belly,
though the hair on my balls was too fine to be seen yet: it could itch
sometimes none the less!  I thought to myself that my guy was into young
boys, and probably would not want any body hair on the object of his
desires, any more than he would want muscles.  I was a good looking boy,
and that was why he had smiled and waved at me.  I would let him fuck me if
he wanted, and I would certainly love to suck that big cock until it was
hard, until it came.  With this thought my cock was hard, and I turned to
look at it in profile.  I was not very big, and some of the boys in my old
school had bigger ones than me: but some had smaller.  I knew that I had
been circumcised, and Mother told me that was because my now-absent father
had insisted.  I had measured it a week before, as boys do, and it was four
and three quarter inches, straight, white, hairless, and with a pinkish-red
knob much broader than the shaft itself.  I gave it a couple of rubs,
enjoying the feeling, but it was time to get dressed and have my breakfast.


   I left early for the bus, hoping that he would come down and talk with
me.  I was crestfallen when there was no sign of him on the balcony, let
alone at his doorway.  I saw the four-by-four was missing from the drive
and realised he must be away.

   How many times did I toss myself through the weekend?  I lost count, but
my arse learned to take two oily fingers as well as the candle!

   Sunday Mother dropped a bombshell.  She had work in the City Monday
through Wednesday, a translation job on contracts that were not allowed to
leave the Solicitor's office, so she would have to work on them there. 
'I'll be able to drive you in and collect you after school.  It'll save the
fares, and be much quicker for you.'

   I bit my tongue to stop myself swearing aloud!

  
...........................................................................
...........................

   JOSH

   Friday night I was alone in the house, almost a bachelor again, and I
treated myself to a long and enjoyable masturbation session.  Usually I
accompanied these occasional luxuries with memories of girls I had shagged
in the past, or imagined scenarios with neighbours' daughters or girls in
the office.  I had a small collection of porn videos which I used from time
to time to add some spice and variety, all of them straight hetero.  But
this first Friday the only image in my mind was of the blonde boy.  Naked.
hairless.  Tanned body and white little-boy bottom.  Hard, little-boy cock.
Half of me hated myself for this, but half remembered the old hippy nostrum
'Whynot?  Whatever turns you on ...'

   saturday morning I went into the City and visited a gay bookshop I had
noticed but it had never before occurred to me to enter.  The guy running
it was built almost as big as me, but there was an indefinable air of
sexuality about him.  His every gesture, the modulation of his voice, his
tight and stylish clothing, all seemed to offer sex!  I wondered for a
moment what it would be like to caress that muscular, ebony body, but
instead I looked through the huge selection of gay dvds.

   'Can I help you.  I've seen most of them.  What do you want specially?'

   I hesitated.  How would he take my honest answer?  On balance I decided
to come out with it and trust his obviously complicit attitude.  'Young. 
Can't be too young.  Legal, of course.'

   'Of course, darling!  Can't be too careful of that!  This.  And this. 
And this one too.  These are the best with boys on them.  Men too on this
one, but very pretty boys.  Might even be legal, you never know...'

   'I'll take that one then.  The one with men and boys on it.'

   'Their gain, our loss, darling!'

   I looked at him not understanding for a moment, and then I got it. 
Adult gays' loss.  Boy gays' gain.  He fancied me.  And to be honest, I
knew I could have fancied him too, with his overt sexuality.  But I was
obsessed with that boy.  I remembered Noel Coward's wonderful song "Mad
About The Boy" and for the first time really understood it!  My cock
stiffened and I realised a truth about myself: I was gay, or at least
bisexual, and had been hiding that fact from myself, suppressing it for
thirty years!

   I drove home too fast, dodging the speed cameras.

   I have a wide-screen tv in my office at home, and after I had stripped
off and thrown a coverlet over the leather of my sofa (I had long ago found
that wanking naked on the shiny leather made my arse stick to it!), loaded
one of the two dvds I had finally bought (very expensive!), and sat down
with a bottle of baby-oil and a towel on the side-table.  I shall describe
the dvd both because I will enjoy remembering and re-telling it, and
because it reinforced my intentions towards the boy.  Without it I might
not have dared to approach him, and would certainly have made a right mess
of the sex.  It is set at the seaside, probably Brighton from the
architecture, and starts on the pier in a small funfair.  This tall,
athletic looking guy, tanned but with blonde hair greying like mine at the
side-boards, is at a rifle-shooting sideshow.  He pays a few coins to the
greasy-looking hippy who hands him the rifle, and shows him his target,
about twenty yards back.  The first shot hits the target but is at the edge
of it.  He adjusts his aim, and the next five are all dead-centre.

   'Pity about the first shot, but at least you win this.' It was a
cheap-looking baseball cap with "Sharpshooter" written on the front.

   'Hey, mister.  you're good!'

   The camera lingered on the boy who was standing at the shooter's
shoulder.  He was shorter and looked about fourteen.  So much for
"legal,darling", I thought.  But that was why the dvds were so expensive I
guess.  He was very good-looking I thought, with dark wavy hair, heavy
bed-room eyes with long, long lashes, and full, sensual lips.  He had a
white armless vest which showed slender but firm arms and shoulders.  The
camera panned down a bit and revealed tight, blue denim shorts, frayed and
torn, and settled a moment on his bulge.  My cock went hard at the sight.

   'I am good!  All six would have been in the gold, but these guys adjust
the sights so they are inaccurate : this one is an inch high and two inches
to the right.  Fancy a try?'

   'Oh!  Yes, please, mister.'

   He paid the greasy attendant again and handed the gun to the boy.  'An
inch low and two inches to the left, ok?'

   'OK!'

   When they wound the target back to look at it, one shot was in the
centre, but the others were scattered.

   'Not bad, son.'

   'My name's Duncan.  Not as good as yours.'

   'I'm Mark.  It used to be my job, army.  Here, Duncan, you want this?'
He placed the cap on the boy's head and pulled it into place.'

   'Gee, thanks, mister, I mean Mark.'

   The camera followed them as they wandered off together looking much like
an innocent father with his teenage son.  I was tempted to skip forward,
but stayed with it and was glad I did when they got on the big dipper. 
This was the film's real pick-up or seduction scene.  As the car hurtled
down a slope The guy had his arm around the boy and they were hugging each
other.  The cameraman, who must have been in the seat opposite, panned down
and showed the guy's hairy hand resting on the boy's crotch, stroke it a
moment, and then grasp what was so obviously a hard cock.  My cock was hard
now, and I tipped some oil into my palm to stroke it.  The boy reached
nervously, and rested his small hand on the guy's crotch, though not
holding or stroking him.  The car hurtled down again and this time as they
hugged and screamed, I watched the boy grasp that cock through light
cotton. I was not tempted to fast forward now!

   You could see them talking as they left the pier, but their voices were
drowned out by the steam-organ's blaring tune.  On the promenade, 'It's
that hotel over there.  Best place to get a drink is from the fridge in my
room.'

   'OK.'

   The camera followed them across the hotel lobby, very grand and opulent.
The boy looked out-of-place amid the gilt ormolu and heavy red brocades,
but no-one took any notice, and I guessed the cameraman managed to keep his
camera hidden for this bit, up the stairs just one floor, and as he
inserted his card in the doorlock he grasped the boy's arse.  The boy
looked over his shoulder and laughed, one of those lovely boyish grins.  In
the room he gestured the boy towards a large, looked-antique sofa, went to
the fridge, and returned with a bottle of beer for himself, and a can of
coke for the boy.  They both took a swig of their chosen drink, and put
them down on the carpet beside them.  Now the sex began!

   His arm again round the boy's shoulders he turned his head and kissed
him full on the lips: his free hand was up the boy's vest and caressing and
fondling him, his nipples I guessed but could not quite see.  I was
stroking myself unthinking now, my oily hand sliding up and down slowly,
gently, easily.  The boy laughed, stood up and dropped his shorts before
pulling the vest over his head.  As he bent to remove his trainers the
camera got a lovely view of his arse.  You must remember this was the first
time I had ever seen a naked boy, and in fact I had seldom seen a naked
man. My school was run by priests and had not been one that encouraged such
situations: showers were individual, and it was a day-school.  I had never
had even the most fleeting homosexual experience.  So I was astounded how
delightful the naked boy's arse was, how white and smooth, slightly rounded
still in his teenage years.  As he bent over, artfully I'm sure, I could
see the sweetest little puckered, pink-brown anus.  In that moment I knew
what I wanted!  And then, when he turned to face the camera for a second I
saw his little-boy cock, standing so proud, and yet so tender with its
slender four inches, and little triangle of fine black hair etched against
the white of his belly.  My hand flew faster up and down my cock.  This, I
realised, was something I had hidden from myself all these years: I would
have that boy innocent in his brand-new school uniform, I promised myself.
The guy stood up and quickly stripped naked.  I was interested in the
close-up we were given of his cock, but it was not really as exciting as
the boy's.  I could imagine myself sucking the boy and having him cum in my
mouth.  The hairy cock of the grown man was tempting, perhaps, and perhaps
I could enjoy sucking it, but not as certainly, and I was not so sure about
adult loads of cum.  His arse was not at all attractive, hairy and broadly
muscular: I knew it was the boy getting into my mind again.  My gay-self
wanted boys, not men, or at least not so desperately!  They kissed again,
this time naked body to naked body.  The camera showed the guy's hairy hand
fondling the boy's hairless nipples, making them stand like little pink
nuts.  The boy had reached over and was feeling the guy's cock, gripping
and releasing it, only to grasp it again.  They kissed, and the guy pulled
the boy over on top of him, and the camera showed him parting the boy's
arse cheeks as they wriggled and writhed mouth-to-mouth, and cock against
cock.  That anus looked just as pretty as it had earlier: I could well
imagine myself licking and kissing it.
I watched while the two sucked each other's cocks, first singly and then
in a sixty-nine, but was most enthralled when the guy fucked his boy.  This
what what I needed!  I replayed the film several times: it was clear that a
certain amount of preparation was called for, involving tongue, fingers,
and lots of lube.  I had never fucked an arse before, not even Mabel's, and
to be honest had been content with all my girlfiends to use the more
customary route!  But I wanted that boy, and I wanted his arse, and this
was how it was done.  The fourth time I replayed the chapter I came at the
same time as the boy did and seconds before the guy.  It was messy, with
cum all over my chest and belly.  I took a shower, and cooled down watching

some sport on the tv!

   After my Saturday solitary-orgy I controlled myself with difficulty all
day Sunday, wanting to build a good head of steam to nerve myself for
approaching him Monday morning.

   Monday I was up early, showered and shaved, and waiting in my porch half
an hour early.  He did not come....  the bus did!  Same Tuesday and
Wednesday, and I was in despair.  Clearly he had changed his route,
arranged a lift or something.  I gave up, and Wednesday night I watched the
film again and jerked off drinking too much scotch.  I nearly missed him
Thursday, and had just shaved and cleaned my teeth when I looked out of the
window and saw him again at the bus-stop.  I quickly slipped on my dressing
gown and was down to the front door, desperate not to miss him.  He turned
to face me immediately I opened the door, and his face was lit by that
lovely smile I had seen days before and so often since in my mind's eye.  I
beckoned him.  We only had a couple of minutes, I guessed.

   'Hi, I'm Josh.'

   'I'm Alexander.'

   We shook hands formally, rather stupidly perhaps!

   'Your bus will be here in a couple of minutes.'

   'Yup!'

   'You don't come back by bus?'

   'Yes.  But it goes by Welling Avenue on the way back.'

   'Could you come round on your way home?'

   'I'd like to.  It'll be about four thirty.'

   'There's your bus.'

   I would have loved to have kissed him (at the least).  But it was too
public.  I quickly hugged him, and I guess he might have felt my cock hard
through the cotton dressing gown, but he had to scamper off to the
bus-stop, and with another wave was gone.

   ...................................................................

   ALEXANDER

   Saturday and Sunday I managed to walk past the house five times on
various pretexts, but never caught a glimpse of him.  Sometimes his car was
out, sometimes it was in the drive, but I could not pluck up courage to
walk up the path and ring the doorbell.  What could I say to him?  I could
hardly say 'I want to see you naked, play with your cock, and think I'd
like you to try and fuck me.' I considered asking if he wanted any
gardening done, or his car washed...  but always I chickened out.  It would
have to wait till Thursday now!

   Five days is an eternity to a young boy, and because I had promised
myself not to wank off, saving myself for him and building up a lot of cum
in my young balls, I walked about with a constant hard-on.  I dreamed about
him every night.

   Thursday morning finally came, of course, and I was up at six, an hour
early, to have a shower and because I could not sleep.  Mother joked about
how often I was bathing nowadays, and I guess she thought I had a
girlfriend; it was several years before I "came out" to her.  I was half an
hour at the bus-stop, and although there was a light on in the upstairs
window, behind the balcony, there was no sign of my golden bear.

   I had given up hope, and was really unhappy thinking that he had
forsaken me, scared off by the implications of friendship with a young boy,
which I completely understood from all the fuss in the newspapers recently,
when in a moment my life was transformed.  He was standing at his front
door in that light dressing gown, which had so excited me the week before
by revealing him naked for an instant, smiling, beckoning.  My heart raced
as I scampered up the drive.  There was a moment of embarrassment when I
did not know what to do, and nor did he, but it passed with the silly
formality of shaking hands.  I learned he was called Josh, a great name for
a guy with huge build and flowing blonde hair.  There was only a moment or
two before my bus, but time enough to arrange I should call round on my way
home from school.

   And then he hugged me.  He enfolded me in his arms, like all my dreams,
and hugged me.  I know he wanted to kiss me, and I so wanted to kiss him,
but it was just too public, even in the deserted street.  I felt his hard
cock against me, and hoped he could feel mine too, as a promise for our
rendezvous in the afternoon.

   You can imagine what a state I was in at school all day!  I guess I did
not learn much.  But I did that afternoon.  Oh yes!

   .................................................................

   JOSH

   I went to my town office and tried to do some work to take my mind off
the prospects for the afternoon, but as you may imagine it was difficult to
concentrate.  My partner, Jolyon, even went so far as to ask whether I was
feeling ill when he found me staring blankly into space while my mobile
phone rang beside me.  I assured him I had never felt better in my life,
and I caught an ironic look in his eye, as if he guessed at least half of
my secret.  I thought he thought it was a girl: I wondered what he would
have said if he had known it was a teenage lad!  Later I was to find out
exactly what he thought of love between a man and a boy.  But for the
meantime I threw myself into a more simple part of the work, planning some
air-conditioning details for an office development we were working on, or
to be more accurate allowing the computer program to plan it for me. 
Eventually the hours passed.  I deliberately left the time short to drive
back to my house, shower, shave and prepare for this long-awaited meeting.

   I had agonised all day about how I would approach the boy, trying out
various scenarios and direct or less direct invitations, methods of gaining
the pleasure of his young body without frightening him off, with all the
dangers of scandal...  and worse...  that might entail.  I still had not
decided on how to go about it when the doorbell rang.

   In the event it was all very easy.

   As in the morning, we stood looking at each other for a moment, as if
hypnotised, and I did not know what to do.  Me, the man of decision in
business matters, lost in front of a teenage boy!  But our bodies spoke for
us and both of us moving together, he was in my arms, hugging me as I
hugged him.  He had both arms around me, locked in the small of my back,
and I had an arm round his shoulder and the other on his bottom, pulling
him tight against me.  I looked down at him, and his eyes were closed.  I
kissed him on the lips, and felt those lips part for me.  My tongue was in
his mouth, exploring, sucking at him.  Then his was in mine.  And as I felt
him wriggling against me I knew he could feel my hard cock against his
body, as I could feel his against mine.  Lips still joined, I cupped his
bottom and squeezed it a moment: now I moved my hand between us and felt
for his cock under light summer trousers.  I grasped it, and felt him draw
his breath in sharply despite our kissing.  His hand now, reaching between
us and finding my cock, scarcely covered decently by my thin track-suit
bottoms.

   'That's nice, Alexander.  I think we're both as excited as each other.'

   'I hope so, sir.'

   'Not sir, Josh!'

   'I'm sorry, Josh!  It's all so new.'

   'It is for me too, Alexander.  But I think we're both going to enjoy
this.  Come into my own room.'

   My workroom has a couple of armchairs and a sofa, as well as my drawing
table, desk and computer station.  I use it for entertaining clients as
well as my own solo working.  Well, this was no client, but he was
certainly going to be entertained!  I motioned him to the sofa, and went
over to the fridge.  I took out a can of beer and a bottle of coke.'

   'Coke?'

   'I'd love that.  It's hot out!'

   'It's going to be hot in here soon, Alexander.'

   'I hope so!'

   I sat beside him, took a swig and put the can on the floor beside us. 
He did the same with his coke.

   'I'm still hard.  Are you, Alexander?'

   I swear he blushed, the sweetest, boyish blush you ever did see.  But I
could see he was hard, his cock making a little pointed tent in his grey
school uniform.  I took his hand and placed it on my cock, still just
covered by my cotton dressing gown.  He grasped it, and I could see a
mixture of awe and excitement in his eyes.

   'Nice?'

   'Oh yes!  I so hoped...'

   What he hoped was left unsaid as I leaned over him and unclasped the
buckle of his belt: it was one of those with a double 's', traditional and,
in fact, I could remember having one when I was his age all those years
ago. He still held onto my cock!  Now I slid the zip down and reached in to
find a hard cock under white underpants.  I held it for a moment, and then
knelt in front of him, nuzzling his crotch with nose and lips.  The scent
was of freshly-washed laundry and I almost laughed when I realised he must
have put them on new for me...  the same instinct that had led me to spend
half an hour in the shower just now!  I closed my lips on the shaft,
nibbling and releasing it, hard and springy through the soft cotton.  He
sighed and stretched his legs out, raising his arse so slightly in what I
took as an invitation to pull his trousers down to his ankles.  I sat
beside him again on the sofa, and slipped my hand up under his school
shirt. His little nipple hardened into a pin-head as I stroked and tweaked
it.  His skin was so smooth and silky!

   His hand was resting in my crotch again, and I was sure he wanted to
feel me properly.

   'You want to see me properly, Alexander?'

   'Oh yes!'

   'Then undo my belt.'

   He pulled at the bow on my dressing gown belt, and it slipped undone.  I
moved slightly and it fell open.  My cock had never felt so hard, standing
and throbbing.  There was clear precum, a drop welling up from its eye. 
Perhaps he had never seen a man-sized cock before?  I heard his little
gasp, and saw his eyes widen in amazement.  Very flattering!

   'You now.' I pulled at his school tie and picked at the buttons on his
shirt.

   'Let me, Josh.' He had the shirt off over his head in a trice and kicked
his shoes off, pulling at his grey socks.  He stood up in front of me and
was about to pull his underpants down.'

   'Let me do that, Alexander.  I'd like that.' As he stood, so lovely, in
front of me, I slipped a thumb under each side of his white underpants and
slowly drew them down.  The tan of his chest gave way to a glaring
whiteness, and then to the fine triangle of golden curls.  Down further and
his cock sprang clear and his naked little-boy balls.  I let the white
cotton drop to his ankles and he stepped out of them.

   'It's not very big, Josh, is it?'

   'It's lovely, Alexander.  And I'm sure it's quite big enough for a boy
of thirteen.  It's great.' I had a hand on each of his hips, and it stood
inches from my face, slender and white, hairless as yet, and with the
prettiest pink head peeping out from his foreskin.  How could any man
resist kissing such a lovely little cock?  But I did resist, for the
moment, and pulling him towards me, kissed his naked white belly, one hand
on each of his firm little buttocks.  He was trying to reach for my cock. I
laughed, and pulled him round to sit beside me again.  I slipped the
dressing gown from my shoulders and we were both naked.

   This was the first boy I had ever caressed, the first ever to be naked
in my arms, and as I kissed him again I felt more alive than I had in
years, every muscle of my body yearning for him.  And he was reciprocating.
Just as I fondled and caressed his flesh, so he was feeling me, fingers
combing through my body hair, tiny hands trying the strength of my arms and
shoulders.

   I broke our embrace, and licked his neck, there where the hair was fine
and golden.  Then my tongue wandered down over his tanned shoulder to his
hairless chest.  I kissed his nipple gently, licked it, and finally sucked
on the hard little pin-head.  Down now, over his chest and to his belly,
licking his navel and making him flinch and giggle as it tickled him.  Down
again to the triangle of fine golden curls nuzzling them and tickling my
nose.  I knelt again in front of him, and felt his hands on my head,
fingers combing my own blonde hair.  His cock had a tiny droplet of precum.
I licked the drop from the eye of his cock and a fine thread of boyish
precum stretched a moment between my tongue and his cock, before it
snapped. I licked down his shaft with the tip of my tongue, and saw another
drop of precum appear.  My own cock was dripping as well making a damp
patch on the carpet!  Down now to his hairless balls, tight and tiny in his
oh-so-white and innocent scrotum.  As I licked them with the tip of my
tongue I could feel the fine hairs just beginning there, too blonde and too
fine to be easily seen yet.  This moment, between childhood and adulthood,
would be so fleeting I thought.  How fortunate I was to have found him at
just the moment when he was sufficiently grown to produce cum for me, yet
still enough the young boy to have a hairless shaft and balls, a hairless
chest, and, yes, I was sure when my explorations reached that secret place
I would find a hairless anus too.

   The precum in his slit had welled more, and was threatening to spill
over and run down his cock.  I held his hips and looked at it for a moment.
This was what I had dreamed about, cock-hard, somewhere between sleep and
wakefulness most of the night, a pretty little boy-cock to suck.  In a
moment almost of religious awe I closed my lips round the pink knob.  His
hips rose to meet my mouth, and I was able to slide both hands under him so
I had one firm little buttock in each palm.  I slid my mouth down his cock
until the whole was in me, my nose resting in his fine curls.  My first
cock after all these years, and what a wonderful moment.  I felt I might
cum with the excitement, even without touching my cock.  But the urge
passed and I was ok again.

   He was gripping my head quite passionately now, and I knew he was up for
it, as much as me if not more.  His hips rose, forcing his cock the last
half inch into my mouth, and then he was fucking my mouth.  That must be
instinctive, I thought: the need to fuck, whether mouth, arse or cunt, must
be in all of us males, and my mouth was warm, wet, and gripping for him to
enjoy.  I scarcely had to move my head as his cock slid in and out for its
full length.  His hands gripped tighter, and I heard his boyish panting and
moaning.  I knew he was going to cum, and slipped a hand from his buttock
into the crease of his arse.  He came, and I felt a spurt of cum fill my
mouth.  It was tasteless, warm and slippery: I loved it.  His fucking
slowed and stopped, but I kept his cock, still erect and still throbbing in
my mouth for several minutes of silence.

   Finally I sat beside him again, arm round his shoulders, kissing him on
the lips.

   'Thank you, Alexander.  That was lovely.'

   'Me too.  It was the first time.'

   'It was for me too, Alexander.  But not the last, it was so good.'

   'Me too.  Can I do you now, please, Josh?'

   'You want to suck me?' I could scarcely believe my luck!  'Yes, please
suck me, Alexander.'

   Learning from me, I guess, he took up the classic pose, kneeling between
my spread legs.  I watched as he licked the precum from my glistening cock,
and then tickled my balls with the tip of his tongue.  So far he was
copying me exactly: would he take my cock in his mouth?  Could he, or was I
too big for his teenage jaw?  I held his head lightly between my hands and
savoured the moment, feeling his fine hair under my fingers.  He looked up
at me, a smile on his lips, and our eyes met.  There was adoration in his
eyes, such as I had seldom seen in all the girls and women I had fucked
before I met Mabel.  Slowly he closed his lips over my knob, and I resisted
the urge to push his head down, to force my cock into his throat.  Let him
find his own time!

   He managed to get about half my shaft into his mouth before my knob
touched his throat and he gagged.  He looked up at me, and I smiled: he
started to bob up and down on my cock, holding the base of it in his tiny
fist, to stop it penetrating too deep.  It was delightful, not because he
sucked especially well, of course ...  many girls had done it better before
my marriage...  but because he was a boy, and I realise that was what I
most wanted.

   I did not last out long.  I looked down at his golden, wavy hair, at his
slender, tanned, smooth back, at the slight curve of his arse.  I promised
myself I would have that arse, possess it with tongue, then fingers, and
then with my cock.  The thought was too much for me, and I came.  He gagged
a second, but swallowed and then swallowed my second and third spurts, not
spilling a drop.  He looked up at me, again with that puppy-like adoration
in his eyes.  It was flattering, and exciting, I guess, but also a bit
disturbing.  Did I really want him to love me?  I certainly did not love
him: just wanted his arse, his cock, and his lovely young body.  However, I
put that to the back of my mind as a problem for later, if at all, and
luxuriated in the gentle pressure of his mouth on my cock as my orgasm died
away.  I sat there like a Sultan in his harem, in the lap of luxury.  It
crossed my mind that if I was a Roman Emperor I would have a harem of
teenage boys...  one of girls as well, I guess.
He was still stiff after.  I wasn't.  I explained that was normal for
boys and men, just the way it was!  And we would have to wait till the
afternoon before I was ready to do it again, and tomorrow would be better

still.

   He said he expected it took some time to make up the amount of cum I had
pumped into him!



   ....................................................................

   ALEXANDER

   I was useless all day, thinking about what would happen after school. 
Mr Michaelson caught me out daydreaming in maths and gave me a classic
sarcastic telling-off for inattention.  What made it worse is that I had
been awake a lot of the night imagining myself as Josh's little lover.  I
imagined myself as his bride, and wondered if he would want to fuck me.  I
had an idea of his size following our brief hug at his doorway, and was
half-excited, half terrified by the thought of him putting his cock up my
bottom.  I practised again with two, and then three fingers, laying on my
back with my legs in the air.  Then, of course the candle.  But none of
these would be as broad and long as his weapon...  or so I at least half
hoped!  I imagined myself as a virgin bride, stripping off her wedding gown
and standing beside him in her white and blue lingerie, posing
provocatively, wriggling her rump to get him interested, as I had seen
animals do at the zoo.

   Daft fantasies, but I had real problems as a boy with my gender, until I
understood one could be perfectly masculine and still wish to submit to the
sexual advances of a dominant male, still want to be his favoured
sex-object.

   I made sure I did not cum.  I wanted to be full of cum for my
'bridegroom'.  As a result I had walked about all day at school with a real
woody, and was glad I had my satchel of books to hold in front of me.  I
was leaking too, and there was often a damp patch at the front of my grey
flannel trousers!  Looked as if I had been careless pissing, I hoped!

   Eventually the bell went at four o'clock, on the bus at ten past, and
ringing his doorbell at twenty to five.  I had about an hour before I would
have to start explaining to Mother why I was late.

   You would think that your first sex, with your first true-love, would be
imprinted on your mind with great clarity.  But mostly I must have been in
a daze: I have a memory of some moments, but not of the intervals between.
I remember how happy I was when Josh shut the door behind me and gathered
me in his arms , kissing me just as I had hoped.  I remember my tongue in
his mouth, and how grown-up I felt kissing him like that, and the feel of
his prick hard against me, and my cock hard, pressing against him.

   And then we are in his private room, sitting beside each other on the
sofa, kissing again, only this time I am holding his cock, though it is
still covered by that cotton dressing gown he was wearing the first time I
saw him and fell for him.  I remember him undressing me as far as my
underpants, and then licking and kissing my chest, and especially my
nipples, and I had no idea before that how sexy it was to have your nipples
sucked.  It was as if a thread connected them to your cock and balls, and
that the pleasure from around them as he kissed and nibbled them
communicated directly to my cock.  He knelt in front of me and mouthed and
nibbled my cock, through my pants, and I was so pleased I had put new ones
on that morning, and that I had been able to shower after our Gym Class at
mid-day (though the other boys had laughed at me for having an even harder
cock than I usually did for our communal showers.  I was not the only boy
to get a stiffy in the showers!)

   I think he asked me to undo the belt on his dressing gown: I can't think
I would have done it without being asked.  Not yet!  Anyway I can remember
pulling at the bow, and the sight of his cock as his dressing gown fell
open.  It was huge, I thought, hairy, and with a great angry red head.  How
could I even consider having that up my bottom.  And yet I still intended
to give him my body in the fullest sense I could, and would brave the pain
of that cock up me to become completely his 'bride'.

   I next remember standing in front of him while he pulled my panties
down, and then I was holding his head while I fucked him in the mouth.  It
did not take me long, and I was squirting my cum into his mouth for him to
swallow.

   I was amazed when he told me that was the first time he had sucked a
cock!  It was mine, too, and I knelt between his legs to take that massive
'helmet' into my mouth.  I thought my jaw would break, and then I would
vomit as it touched the back of my throat.  But it was all right finally,
and I could stop it going too deep by holding it in my hand as I sucked on
it, rubbing it with my fist at the same time.  He was holding my head in
both hands, and whispering how lovely I was, how he wanted my arse, how I
would be his bitch.  I loved all that!  He came too quick that first time.
I had got used to his size and was really enjoying the feel of him when
suddenly my mouth was filled with his hot spunk.  I swallowed, and there
was more, and more, till my whole mouth and throat had been filled and
coated with with the silky, smooth, slippery juice.  It was so exciting,
and even afterwards, when he had stopped spurting his cock twitched and
oozed juice for minutes after.

   I had stayed stiff, but he explained grown-ups need a bit longer than
boys between cums.

   And I had to go home.

   But I arranged to come round again early Saturday morning, about nine,
so we could have a long day together.

   I really hoped he would take me like a man takes his bride: I knew he
wanted to, because of what he had muttered as he came.  I would practise
again with the candle during the night to get ready for it!

  
...........................................................................
....

   JOSH

   I had a good night's sleep for once, despite the anticipation of
delights to come in the morning.  My mind was made up.  I was going to fuck
this little boy in the arse come what may.  As I showered I recalled
similar mornings all those years ago when I was seducing girls, many of
them virgins.I loved the easy hippy-chicks, but more than anything else
delighted in having a prim and proper, church-going virgin lass.  I
remembered one young librarian at college.  I had taken her glasses off,
taken her knickers down, and fucked the living daylights out of her in the
philosophy section.  This boy was certainly a virgin, though prim and
proper, not!

   I had my first cigarette of the day and a coffee as I planned the
campaign.  Breakfast together first would be a good idea, and then to bed.
The spare, guest bedroom would be best in case Mabel noticed anything when
she returned: I intended this session to be the first of many.  Also the
mirrored wardrobe would add interest: I would be able to see his lovely,
slender, tanned body in the mirror as I fucked him.

   I went upstairs and put a couple of old towels and the new
lube-dispenser by the bed, which I had stripped down to just one sheet.

   The lube was new, as there was none in the house before.  Mabel and I
had never used it even in the days we still had sex: she never did give me
her arse-hole.  I had considered olive oil or butter, but then decided it
was worth a quick drive into the City to get the best there was.  The sexy
guy in the gay porn shop was helpful again and recommended this one, with a
push down knob that actioned the nozzle.  'Silky, slippery, and no mess. 
Washes off with ordinary water.  I always use it.'

   'Well, that's the best recommendation there is.  I want this to go
well.'

   'Hot date?'

   'Oh yes.  He's hot all right.'

   'Have fun, darling.  Wish it were me!'

   I now found no embarrassment at all with his gay flirting: in fact I had
to admit he was sexy in his own way.  Not as sexy as a young boy, of
course, but sexy enough!  One day I might.....  'You never know!'

   I decided I would wear a white singlet and tight white shorts.  I looked
at myself in the long bedroom mirrors.  Sexy!  The tight cotton accentuated
my pecs and my arse looked strong and masculine.  The tightness of the
shorts made my thighs look even more powerful than they actually were.  I
would do!

   He was on the dot of nine, of course, and this was the first time I had
seen him out of school uniform (except naked!) He looked even tastier in a
blue City football shirt and tight denim jeans.  And a lovely smile as I
greeted him at the door.

   'How about breakfast first?'

   'I'd like that.  I didn't have much before I left.'

   'Bacon, eggs, tomatoes, fried bread, mushrooms ok?  And tea, or coffee?'

   'Sounds good, Josh.  Tea for me.'

   'OK I'm having coffeee.'

   We were in the kitchen by now, and I had all the gear laid out ready.'

   'Let me cook .  It's ok I'm a good cook.  You do the tea and coffee and
get the plates out.  I'll do the rest.'

   I sat at the table and watched him as he stood over the stove, and
cooked it all up very efficiently.  His arse was so tempting with the tight
denim over it, and his smile as he looked over his shoulder to chat.  Like
a little housewife, I thought, cooking for her man.  I idly wondered what
he would look like naked, with just a little frilly apron covering his sex.
I had a sudden image of a teenage boy in feminine lingerie and my cock,
already hard, twitched!

   He cooked the breakfast better than I could, and he positively glowed
when I told him so.  This was going well.  I would have my virgin
arse-hole. I also suspected his cock was as hard as mine, though it did
not, of course, make the bulge mine showed!

   We were about half way through breakfast when I made my move.  'Bed
after breakfast?  Some more fun together?'

   'Oh!  I'd like that, Josh.  I've been thinking about it all night.'
Again that radiant smile with perfect, white teeth.  We hurried through the
rest of the meal.

   'Upstairs now!' I followed him up the stairs, close enough to handle his
buns as they moved under the denim.  He leaned back slightly on my palms as
I did so.  This was going to be good: I was sure he was up for it.  And
even if he was not, he was going to be shagged in the arse!  We tore our
clothes off and he was even quicker than me.  Both of us had erections.

   On the bed I went straight to his cock, licking the whole length and
then taking his knob in my mouth.  Up now, over his belly and chest to his
lips.  He held my cock, and his eyes were shining.

   'You know what I want now, Alexander?'

   'I think so, Josh.'

   'I want to fuck your arse.'

   'I want that too.  But I'm a bit afraid.'

   'Turn over.'

   I had that video to guide me.  I now knew I would have to prepare him,
relax him, before fucking him.  It's a good job I had seen it, or in my
ignorance I might have ruined this for both of us.....  I remember what a
mess I made of my first sex with a girl....  she was a virgin as well!  I
possibly put her off it for life!  And he was well worth ligering over,
savouring, as he lay there in front of me.  I could see the tension in the
muscles of his shoulders, just beginning to develop as he moved into
adolescence.  I lay over him and kissed the small of his back, tanned,
silky and just slightly salty.  He smelled of lemons, I recall.  The hair
on the back of his neck was as fine as spun silk.  I licked inside his ear,
and he giggled, but I could still feel him tense and nervous beneath me.  I
adjusted my hips so my cock rested in the crease of his arse, and his
tension increased.  Perhaps he thought I was going to ram my prick up him
without foreplay, brutal and sudden?  I felt sorry for him and rolled off
his butt.

   Laying beside him I stroked and caressed his buns, as one would calm a
nervous animal.  I squatted between his legs and parted his arsecheeks, one
palm on each buttock.  His anus was pretty, pink, puckered, and hairless. I
leaned forward and kissed it: more giggles.  Now my tongue, licking over
it, round it, and pointed, right into it.  Giggles and wriggles of his firm
little rump.

   'That tickles!  Don't stop, though, Josh, it's nice.'

   Nice for me too as I pressed my face deeper into his crack and my tongue
further up his hole.  I could feel him contracting and then relaxing his
anus, to give me pleasure, I imagined.  I gave us a rest occasionally,
licking his balls and the hard place between them and his puckered little
rose, but mostly I was an inch or so inside him, licking round and round
and in and out.  I blessed that video for showing me this, as I doubt if I
would have thought of it myself, and he, a virgin, would have been unlikely
to ask.  I reached up under him and found his cock, as hard as mine!  I was
able to pull it down between his legs so it stuck out towards me, and then
I had his knob to suck from time to time, as well as his anus and his
balls. The skin on his hips and bottom, white and untanned, was silky
smooth, and the flesh beneath firm without being muscular.  I thought of
all the female arses I had caressed, and how this boy out-sexed them all!

   We must have played like this for ten minutes, when my urgent cock told
me it was time to move on.  The lube now!  A squirt between his cheeks, and
dabbling my fingers in it, across his anus, with just the slightest
pressure with each stroke, until finally there was enough gentle pressure
for my index finger to slip in as far as the first joint.  I felt his anus
contract on it and then relax as I slipped my finger up him further, to the
second joint.  I leaned over and kissed him in the small of the back as I
slid my finger completely up.  He wriggled his arse and raised it as if
wanting my probing finger to penetrate even further.  I felt around inside
him, and he moaned.  I was afraid for a moment.  Had I hurt him up there?
But no!  The groan was of pleasure and it seemed to be when I pressed him
just there with the end of my finger.  Yes!  The moan again, and his cock
twitching.  I gently finger fucked him, making sure that I kept touching
that place he especially liked, and whispering in his ear what a lovely boy
he was, how slender and smooth, and how much I wanted him.  I think I said
I lusted after him, which sounds a bit old-fashioned!

   I felt the time was right, and slid a second finger up him as well.  He
was raising his hips and letting them fall again now, and I realised he was
fucking the pillow I had put under him, fucking in rhythm with my finger
fucking.  Surely he was ready?

   'I'm going to fuck you now, Alexander.'

   'Please, Josh!'

   'Are you ready?'

   'Please Josh, make me yours.  But be gentle.  I'm afraid.'

   I made no comment to that and was already greasing up my cock.  My main
concern was not for him, but for me: I was afraid I would cum before
properly fucking him, as I had once or twice when I was young, fucking firm
little virgin girls!

   On top of him now, my full weight holding him down, my cock in his
crease, my hand gripping my cock between us.  I slid my cock up and down
his crease and could feel it catch a bit each time it passed over his hole,
so I let it rest there, held in place by my fist.  A light pressure.  More.
Harder still and my cock slid in.  There was a muffled scream as he bit
hard into the bedsheet gripped between his teeth.  I knew it hurt and he
wanted me to stop.  But I had promised myself I would shag this pretty
teenage boy, and shag him I would!  I pressed down harder and felt my cock
slide in about half way.  He was trying to wriggle clear now, so I held him
down, one arm across the middle of his back, the other pressing his
shoulders into the mattress.  Another shove and I was in him completely, my
pubic hair touching his hairless bum.  I felt him contract, incredibly
tight and so very sexy.  The second the spasm passed, I pulled out as far
as my knob, and slid in again the full length, He was sobbing now, muffled
by the bedclothes stuck into his mouth.

   And so I fucked him, cruelly, more like a rape than consensual sex: but
I had fucked girls like that too, long ago.  In for a penny, in for a
pound, I thought.  I was in deep enough shit already, and at least would
have had my pleasure to look back on all the years in prison!

   But within a few minutes the sobbing had stopped, and his arse was
beginning to respond.  He was fucking the pillow again!  I felt beneath him
and , yes!, he was hard again.  He was enjoying it now!  Just like the boy
in the video.  I was beginning to wonder if I should try it ....  clearly
it was good.  Why should I not enjoy it in the arse if other guys did?  But
that was for later, if at all.  For the moment I just fucked him faster,
harder, until I realised he was coming.  The contractions in his arse as he
came, and even more the feeling of pleasure in giving him pleasure tipped
me over the edge, and I filled his arse with the biggest load of spunk I
had shot in years, squirt after squirt deep inside him.

   After, we lay together silent for minutes.  I don't know who was the
more surprised at the violence of our orgasms, the man or the boy.  Finally
a contraction in his arse forced my cock, half-limp now, to slide out.

   His first words were not romantic and we later laughed at them
sometimes. 'I wanna shit.  You've filled me up, and I've got to run for
it.' He disappeared into the bathroom, and later I heard him running a tap.
I wiped myself on an old towel I had put handy.  Shit marks, but no blood,
thank god!

   When he came back, his mouth and eyes were smiling.  I knew I was ok! 
And he said he was ok 'up there'.  No pain and no blood.

   'So, would you like a pizza or a burger?'

   'Burger, McDonalds please.'

   I loathe MacDonalds, but agreed of course.

   'And then the football, City , or the Zoo?'

   'The footie for me!  That'd be great.  Thanks, Josh.'

  
...........................................................................
........

   ALEXANDER

   It's so difficult to separate what I felt that day from what I now think
about it looking back several years.  You must remember I was a very
romantic little lad, fancied myself in love with Josh, and wanted so much
to be his little bride.  I knew he was going to fuck me that first
Saturday, or at least I desperately hoped he would possess me completely,
but was also very afraid of the act itself.  My experiments with my finger
and the candle had shown me that it could be done ...but I already knew
that from the other boys' stories and jokes ...  but his cock was so much
broader, thicker than the candle, and his knob seemed to that young lad to
be fierce and angry.  I could only imagine what it would be like to have my
tight little bottom-hole stretched by that huge, red helmet.  For length I
knew it would be all right: the candle was if anything longer.  But the
breadth!

   So it was a mixed up little boy who rang his doorbell, excited and
fearful at once.  And Josh was so nice to me, chatting and allowing me to
cook him breakfast before getting down to the real business of the morning.
And even then, naked on his bed, he was gradual and careful, getting me
used to the idea of being fucked, calming and relaxing me.  I think we
spent a long time just kissing and caressing, occasionally sucking each
other's cock for a moment or two.  Then he asked me if I wanted to be
fucked, and I told him I did, despite being a bit afraid of it.

   Again he was gentle and careful and he rimmed me for ages.  I love a
tongue in my arse (who doesn't?), and I remember lifting my arse so he
could get his tongue in deeper.  I can still recall the feel of his rough
cheeks against my smooth bottom.  Then he oiled me, and finger fucked me,
again for ages.  I let him know when he found the right spot up there by
groaning each time his finger touched it: he learned quickly, and I could
have cum while he massaged me there, but managed to hold it back.  At last
he thought I was ready and I felt the weight of him on my back, and the
pressure of his knob against my tight-closed arsehole.  That was a great
feeling, and it still is, to feel the pressure there moments before you are
fucked.

   I was, however, terrified!  I so wanted to be his, and yet I knew it
would hurt.

   He pushed, and his knob was in me.  The pain was horrible, and I'm sure
I screamed despite biting into the bedsheet.  He took no notice, and pushed
further in until I could feel his hairs against my buttocks and knew he was
right in me, as far as it would go.  It still hurt dreadfully, and I think
I was sobbing.  I tried to wriggle free, but he held me down with a hand in
the small of my back and another across my shoulders.  While I wriggled, he
forced his cock deeper and deeper until I could feel his weight on my
bottom, his hairs scraping the tender skin on my buttocks.  I was so scared
he had torn me up there, the pain was so intense, and I'm sure I begged him
to stop.  Luckily he took no notice, and started to fuck me despite the
contractions in my protesting anus.  I lay there in agony, biting into the
bedsheet, while he had his way.  But gradually, of course, the pain was
replaced by a dull ache, and then, at the same time as that discomfort,
there was the beginnings of pleasure.  My cock had gone soft and shrunken,
but now I knew it was growing hard again, and Josh was indeed giving me
pleasure as well as taking it.

   This was going to be good after all.  It would be all right.  I could be
his!  I felt his hand under me, and once he knew I was hard again, and
enjoying it, he was fucking me harder, and faster, using the weight of his
body.  I can just about remember him whispering endearments and stroking
and kissing my back and neck, but then I was coming, spurting into his
bedsheet.  Then I felt him cum, with sharper thrusts, and a new
slipperiness from his spunk.

   And that was it.  I was embarrassed, and we laughed about it later, but
I had to race to the bathroom to dump a load of shit and cum.  I washed,
and when I got back he was propped up against the pillows, golden and
magnificent, but limp.  I was still hard....

   We had a burger, and went to the match.  City lost!  But I did not mind.
I had my man, and had given him pleasure, and it had been good for me too.
I was bubbling with joy!

  
...........................................................................
.......



   JOSH

   Two weekends later Mabel announced she would be coming back, robbing me
of one of my wonderful Saturdays with Alexander.  I would not be able to
use the house for our sessions, obviously, but my town office had two
apartments on the top floor.  The larger one was occupied by Jolyon, my
business partner, which suited me as it meant there was effectively a night
watchman.  The smaller, really a bedsit with a small kitchen and even
smaller shower and loo, was where I met my little plaything every afternoon
after his school.  I could then drive him back, well-fucked and smiling,
and drop him near his usual bus-stop.  We even had a few minutes longer to
enjoy ourselves each day, so it worked out quite well.  I was happy with
about an hour with him each day: enough to unload my cum into him, and not
too much time to get bored with the rather dull conversation of a teenage
boy, however sexy and pretty!  Saturday we had longer in bed together, but
I tried to fill the day up with a football or cricket match, a film, a
burger etc.  To be brutally honest, I wanted his arse and body, not really
his company!

   Jolyon had joined the businessy on his twenty second birthday, eight
years previous, and it had become traditional for the two of us to go out
for a meal and a few drinks on the anniversary.

   It was a Wednesday night this year, not the busiest in the City but not
the quietest either, and we were sitting in a half-full bar chatting over a
couple of drinks.  I remember that in one of those silences that do not
matter when friends meet I had been thinking about Mabel and marriage in
general, how good it had been, and how empty of sex it now was.

   'You never married, Jolyon.'

   'Not the marrying kind, Josh.  God forbid!'

   'Why's that?'

   'I should have thought that's obvious.  I'm gay of course.'

   'I often wondered.  But still no handsome young man about to keep your
bed warm?'

   'Oh, don't worry about me, Josh.  I do all right.' We were both slightly
drunk and he nearly tipped his drink over as he leaned towards me
confidentially, but just caught it in time.  'I prefer lots of partners to
the one soul-mate.  More fun that way.  Living in the centre of the City
I'm only a short walk from all the gay clubs, and I do all right, I promise
you.' He leaned further, so our heads were almost touching, and now his
drink did spill on the table: he did not notice and must have been drunker
than me!  'And if I feel like something more interesting, then there's
always the rent boys on the Common or the Ringroad.  I like them young
sometimes.'

   'I know what you mean.  Young and lithe.  Lovely!'

   'You, too, Josh!  Shit!  I'd never have guessed.  Look, let's drink up
and wander over the Common.  There's often a lad there, blonde, blue-eyed,
tanned, lithe and lovely as you say.  Name of Kevin, and says he's fifteen,
though I very much doubt that.  We could take him back to my place and have
him.'

   'I don't think I'm up to rent boys, Jolyon.  But I've got a good dvd of
a guy picking up a boy at a seaside amusement arcade and taking him back to
a hotel room.  We'd enjoy watching that.  At the bedsit it is.'

   'You're on, Josh.  But first let's get another drink.  I seem to have
spilled mine.'

   At that moment the barman announced he was closing!

   'OK There's a club in the next street where I'm a member.'

   It was a gay place, of course, and was just filling up as the pubs
closed.  Jolyon was well-known and greeted by several good-looking guys,
and I found myself imagining him in bed with some of them.  We drank and
chatted, standing at the bar.  As the place filled, some of the guys were
dancing.  One of my favourite soul tracks started and Jolyon could see my
feet moving, and my body too a bit (I was fairly drunk!)

   'Let's dance, Josh.'

   Another first, first time I had danced with a guy, though we were not
touching.  Then the track changed to a slow ballad, and the guys were
dancing together in each others' arms.  Me and Jolyon too.  I could feel
how strongly muscled he was, and as he put his leg between mine could feel
his cock too.  Amazingly I felt mine harden into a full erection, and we
swayed together silent, enjoying the moment.

   'Time to go, Jolyon.  Watch that dvd.  Together!'

   The bedsit has a discrete separate entrance.  It was designed for
clients who needed to, or sometimes just wanted to stay overnight when
visiting us.  They could take their girl (or boy) for the night back
without anyone knowing.  Jolyon sat on the bed while I got a couple of
beers and put the dvd on.

   'You're right, Josh.  He's a sexy little lad!  I could go for him.'

   'Me too.'

   'You know, I don't feel comfortable watching porn fully clothed...'

   'Be my guest.  In fact I'll join you.'

   And so, as easy as that, we were sitting side by side stark, bollock
naked.  I was watching the film, but I could not help looking at my partner
who showed yet another aspect which surprised me.  He was completely
hairless: I mean chest, armpits, back and belly and most spectacularly his
cock and balls.  The latter shone because they were held tight by a thin,
black, silver-studded cock-strap.  It was only partly the film that made my
own cock stand.  I could fancy this powerfully built but white and smooth
guy!  I found myself thinking too about the ebony guy in the bookshop.
The seaside guy had his little victim?  lucky little chap?  rent boy? 
naked now, and Jolyon was fully erect.  Amazing how big a cock looks when

the shaft has been shaved of all hair!

   'That's a good-looking tool you got there, Jolyon.'

   'Yours aint so bad either, Josh!  And you're right about the boy.  He's
a real looker.'

   'He takes it in the arse too.  When I think of all the boys I could have
had when I was a teen myself....'

   'I was luckier, Josh.  I had dozens when I was at school, and never lost
the taste for them.  Though I like guys like you, too.' His hand rested on
my knee, and I covered it with mine for a second before placing my hand on
his thigh.  It felt strange, so smooth and silky like a boy's, and yet firm
and muscular like a man's.  Without thinking I stroked it, and Jolyon was
stroking my thigh, running his hand lightly up and down, just ruffling the
hairs.  It was all very sexy.  I was nearly frozen by the newness of this,
but stole a glance at his cock.  He was not as big as me, but his cock was
stiff and the pink knob just peeped out from his foreskin, which was
retracted a little bit.  It looked very pretty, naked of all hair, and very
suckable.  He adjusted his weight on the side of the bed, and his left arm
was round my shoulders.  I turned, and we kissed.  As we embraced I felt
his hand on my cock, and I gripped his in my fist in return.  I put my free
hand round his shoulders, and felt the strong muscles there, and the
smoothness of his skin.  His tongue in my mouth, I rubbed his cock a bit,
and then forced my tongue into his mouth.

   After a few moments we came up for air.

   'You are lovely and smooth, Jolyon.'

   'And you are gloriously hairy, Josh.'

   'You shave?'

   'Most is permanent.  Electrolysis.  Rest I get waxed.  You like it?'

   'I love it.  It's so sexy.  Like a boy's skin!' I stroked his belly and
then tweaked a nipple between finger and thumb.

   'That's why I do it.  I want you to fuck me, Josh.'

   'Now?'

   'Now!  I'll kneel down.'

   'I've got some lube here.'

   'Don't need it, sweetie.  Just a bit of spit.'

   It felt strange after weeks of fucking a slender youth, to have my hands
on those muscular hips, a broad, strong arse in front of me, white, smooth,
but very masculine.  I took him at his word and wetted my cock with spit,
and put a bit in his hole too.  He wiggled his arse at me, and looked over
his shoulder, his eyes laughing.  I placed my knob, and as easy as anything
was in him.  So this was what it was like with an adult man, slick and
effortless.

   I felt strong and masculine myself as I shagged him with long, deep
sweeps, my cock slipping right out with some of them, only to be almost
sucked in again.  As for Jolyon, his hand was working away under us,
jerking his cock to the rhythm of my fucking.  I can't say it was exciting
as a boy's bum, but there was something particularly satisfying in being
the dominant partner above another adult male, as well as the added
pleasure of being able to go at him as hard and physical as I wished.  It
was almost like a good work-out!  Then I was coming, a squirt deep inside
him with each thrust.

   My cock was clean when he expelled it from his anus with a particularly
gripping spasm.  He had not come yet, and as we sat side-by-side I tried to
suck him.

   'Later, Josh.  Just enjoy the moment!'

   'Thanks, Jolyon.  That was good.  As good as with a boy, in fact.'

   'So it's not just fantasy.  You fuck boys?'

   I thought about it for a moment and then decided "Why not?" After all he
had come out to me and admitted picking up under-age kids on the Common or
Ringroad and fucking them, so it was fairly safe to tell him.

   'Not boys, Jolyon.  One boy.  And he's an angel.  Fourteen, blonde,
blue-eyed and tanned, and with an arse like dipping it in honey.  I have
him most days.'

   'You old dog!  And a lucky one too.  Expensive?'

   'No.  He says he loves me and that's the problem really.'

   '????'

   'I mean, I'd rather he just enjoyed the sex.  He's got too close and
involved.  I'm not sure I want that.  You could help out.'

   '????'

   'I mean, if he had sex with another guy it would dilute that fixation
with me, get me out from under a bit.  I still want to fuck him, but
"Lerve", oh no!'

   'You want me to fuck him.  A blue-eyed, blonde, fourteen years, tanned
little angel?  For you, Josh I'll make that sacrifice.  But I'll want your
arse in return.'

   'You want to fuck me.  I'm not sure about that....'

   'You'll love it.  And I'm not too big.  Just right for the first time.'

   'It seems to hurt...'

   'Only at first.'

   'That's true.  OK then.'

   I was fairly nervous as I knelt for him, and it's a good thing I had
plenty to drink that evening as I now know my anal muscles are powerful,
like the rest of me, and he might have found it difficult to penetrate.  As
it is, he lubed me up, and stretched me a bit with his fingers, also, of
course, massaging my prostate for the very first time, and showing me that
it could in fact be pleasurable.

   But it hurt like hell when he shoved his knob in, and I understood why
Alexander had shrieked and then sobbed for several minutes.  I was too
proud to let Jolyon see that, and was hopeful it would all turn out well
for me as it had for my own little squeeze.  The pain lasted a minute or
two, and was replaced with a dull ache.  This continued but was gradually
overlaid by the pleasure of my prostate being pummelled by his cock with
each thrust, and my anus being caressed each time he pulled out.  It was
getting good, and I think I might have come again if Jolyon had not come
himself before me.

   I was properly gay now, fucking men as well as boys, and being fucked in
my turn.  Life would never be the same again, and my only regret was the
wasted years of wholly hetero sex!



   ..............................................................

   ALEXANDER

   Most evenings it was just me an Josh, but Saturdays we usually had a
threesome with Jolyon.  I was coming to enjoy that more and more, being the
centre of attraction to two well-built men, both handsome in their
different ways, and both eager for my mouth, bottom and cock.  Over the two
months in which I had been enjoying good sex I had matured a lot.  As a
person I was much more self-assured and at school had become more popular
as a result (that it was cricket season and I had gone straight into the
first team, by two years the youngest member, did no harm either). 
Physically I was putting on some muscle, the triangle of blonde curls at
the root of my cock was getting more defined, and I was beginning to get
some hairs on my balls too.  I used to measure the length and breadth of my
little cock nearly weekly, but to my disappointment it did not seem to grow
much: never mind as both Josh and Jolyon seemed to like it as it was, just
under five inches, hairless, and white, with its little pink helmet.
I got so much sex nowadays that I had nearly stopped wanking at night: I
wanted to save all my cum for my lovers.  Not only did I get better sex
because of this, I also got really good dreams, being fucked in the night
by my two lovers, but also by a succession of beautiful, powerful imaginary
guys.  I still fancied I loved Josh, and was quite romantic still, but had
room to love Jolyon too.  I was beginning to learn what most boys discover
sooner or later, that love is not exclusive, and that a male can love

several guys at the same time, and lust after even more!

   So that Saturday morning it was as usual an eager little lad who went up
the stair to Jolyon's appartment and rang the doorbell.  We had started
using Jolyon's place Saturdays as the other flat was rather small for three
people in a long, often all-day sex session.

   Jolyon was in shorts and an open-necked shirt, bare-footed.  He kissed
me at the doorway, a brief embrace and a peck on the lips.

   'Bad news, Alexander.  Some family trouble at his daughter's and he's
had to drive his wife up North again.  So it's just you and me today.'

   'We can still enjoy ourselves?' My cock had been hard all the time on
the bus, and had sprung to attention yet again with his brief hug.

   'Not half!' I should say so!'

   'Let's undress, then.'

   'You're eager, young Alexander!  I'll undress you, and then you undress
me.  That'll be more fun.'

   He sat on his settee and as I stood in front of him he undid my shirt
buttons and I let it fall to the floor behind me.  I could feel my nipples
going hard and tingling in anticipation of his lips.  I knew he would suck
them soon as he always did.  He pulled my trainers off ...  I wasn't
wearing socks...  and then undid the button at my waist, slid the zip down,
and I stepped out of my shorts as they fell to my ankles.  He gave a sharp
intake of breath as I stood in front of him, naked except for my white
underpants.  I love exciting men, especially if they are handsome and sexy,
and go out of my way to provoke them.  I was still learning then, at
fourteen, but was already good at it!  My underpants were a new pair of
y-fronts, which I think make me look good, and much better than the
horrible baggy things my mother used to get me.  She seemed to accept that
I was beginning to grow up, but had no idea how much so!

   He pulled me towards him, his hands gripping my butt quite hard: not
that I minded.  I love to feel a man's hands on my buttocks, gripping and
kneading the flesh there, and even more so if he nuzzles my cock, as Jolyon
was doing now.  He was talking, as much to himself as to me, saying how
lovely I was, what a lovely little-boy cock, what a lovely little-boy firm
arse.  I could feel his lips and then his teeth as he nibbled my cock
through the thick cotton.  I'm sure my y-fronts would be damp with pre-cum
as I was very, very excited by now.  I felt his thumbs at my waistband, and
slowly, so slowly, he drew my pants down allowing my cock to spring clear.
I stepped out of them as his mouth closed over my knob, sucking at it while
his tongue licked round and round, especially at the base of the knob where
it is super-sensitive.  He swallowed my whole cock, and still his tongue
fluttered up and down the shaft, while his hands were on my bottom again,
pulling the cheeks apart and feeling into my crack.  I allowed him a couple
of minutes of this pleasure, and could see the tent in his shorts, and also
a damp patch that told me he was naked under them.

   'My turn now!'

   He stood up, and held his hands up above his head.  I giggled. 
'Surrender?  For you the war is over.'

   'For you, anything!'

   I was undoing the buttons on his shirt and like me he let it fall to the
ground behind him.  Once I had thought a man had to be hairy to be really
sexy, but now I found Jolyon's smooth and shaven chest and belly very
exciting.  It was his power and strength, I guess, that appealed to a young
lad on the verge of his sexuality: I still had that desire to submit, to be
the feminine in the relationship, that had figured in my really childish
sexual fantasies.  His belly was flat, and you could feel the muscles in it
when you ran your hand over it, as I was doing now.  Better still your
lips! But that was for later, perhaps, I reached and teased first one
nipple and then the other into life.  Just as his body was a stark white
... he never sun-bathed at all...  so his nipples were still pink like a
young boy's, not brownish like Josh's.  I loved the way they went hard
under my touch, and he liked them to be played with as well.  Later!  His
shorts had a button at the waist, and I undid it, pulling at the zip until
it was open.  He was naked beneath, and his cock poked out at me.  I fell
to my knees, and as he stepped out of his shorts, closed my mouth round his
knob, glistening with pre-cum, and already completely clear of his
foreskin.

   As usual he groaned his pleasure when I placed the side of my hand in
his arse crease and swallowed his cock till my nose rested on the smooth
shaven skin of his pubes.  I wonder if it was the pressure of my hand on
his anus or his knob on the back of my throat that made him groan. 
Probably both.  Usually, in fact always in our threesomes, Josh would fuck
me in the arse while Jolyon fucked my mouth, myself kneeling, spit-roasted
between them and jerking away at my cock.  Jolyon had never in fact fucked
me, but I intended to change that this morning!

   'Shall we use your bed for a change.  I mean can we?  It would be nice.'

   'Of course.  It's made tidy, and nice and clean for you.'

   'I don't mind that, but it would be nice to be fucked on a sprung
mattress for a change.'

   'Come on then.'

   He lay propped up on pillows like some Pasha in his harem while I
enjoyed his body.  I'd caressed him before, of course, but never without
interruptions from Josh.  I found I was enjoying this at least as much as
my one-on-one sessions with Josh, and particularly as Jolyon seemed able to
let me take some of the initiative.  With Josh, it was always clear who was
boss!

   'Josh always has me the same way, says he likes my bottom.' I was
between his legs, holding his cock and licking his balls with the tip of my
tongue, a new and pleasant experience as he was wearing a cock strap that
stretched his scrotum, and made his hairless balls shiny and very sexy. 
There was some precum running down the shaft of his cock, thin and clear,
and from time to time I would collect it again with the tip of my tongue.
Each time I touched his cock with my tongue it would twitch, he would
groan, and another dribble of precum would well out from its eye. 
Paradise!

   'I can see why.  You've a lovely bottom.  But Probably he doesn't know
any other way.  He's not had much sex in his life.  Sad, really.' He was
caressing my shoulders with one hand and running his other through my hair.
'You want to try it on top?'

   'How's that?'

   'I'll show you.  Put some lube on my knob.' He watched while I greased
him and placed a goodly dollop between my arse cheeks.  I could not resist
slipping a finger up and feeling for my prostate (I knew by now what it
was, not just a mysterious pleasure centre.  Such is the information-power
of the web!) 'Now squat over me.' He gripped his cock at the base as I
crouched astride him.  'Tell me when it's just right.  Better still, when
it's right, lower yourself onto me.'

   The feeling of pleasure was even greater with the knob pressing against
my anus in this position than kneeling, and I delayed lowering myself for a
minute or two.  I imagined the precum welling up from his cock and wetting
my arsehole, and my own little cock was dribbling a bit.  He was smaller
than Josh and I felt no fear or tension with this, my second ever lover.

   'Come on, Alexander, I'm gagging for it!  Stop teasing!'

   I let my weight transfer from my arms to my arse, and his knob slipped
into me.  There was the usual momentary pain, but I allowed more and more
weight to gradually force my rectum down on it until I was actually sitting
on his lap, completely impaled.  I sat there enjoying the full feeling, and
a new superiority sitting up there above him.  I leaned forward and twisted
his nipples, one in each hand, the sort of game the two men liked playing
with me.  Now it was my turn!  I could see the pain in his eyes, but also
felt his cock twitch deep inside me: I understood by now the possibility of
pain and pleasure coexisting.

   I felt his hips trying to move, and lifted myself slightly so his cock
ran through my anus, with the feeling of a good dump.  I love that feeling!
And so I let myself fall back again, and again that lovely feeling in my
arsehole itself.  later I knew my prostate would wake up deep inside me,
but for the moment the sensation in my arsehole was king!  I soon found it
best to have both hands on his chest to give me the leverage to bounce up
and down: I was enjoying this and it was good to see the look on his face,
where the pleasure was so intense it could be mistaken for pain.  My
prostate had kicked in now, and he helped me go even faster by putting his
open hands under me so my buttocks were resting on his palms, sharing the
effort of moving.  I went faster and faster this way, and then I knew he
was coming: I swear I could feel his cock swell even more deep in me, and
the first rush of cum, making me slide even easier.  When his hips stopped
their movement I collapsed on his chest, and let his cock twitch deep
inside me.  I remember licking the sweat from his bare, hairless nipple.

   After a bit he slipped out, and we lay side by side wiping up the mess
on a towel.  There was not as much as there could be sometimes, and we
would not need to wash.  I must have been fairly empty up there!

   'You didn't cum then, Alexander?'

   'No, Nearly, but you came first.'

   'Good!  Then you can fuck me.'

   'I've never...  I mean I don't think Josh wanted that ever.'

   'You should ask him and you might get a surprise.  Now how do you want
me?'

   'Kneeling, I think, first time.'

   Can you remember the first arse you fucked?  I'll bet you can, whether
it was a man, boy or girl on the receiving end.  Well, I certainly can
though I've had plenty of both (men and boys I mean) over the years.

   His skin was soft and white, and his balls hung very tight under his
completely hairless anus.  I thought it very beautiful, very strong and
masculine, in fact all I was looking for at that time in a sex-partner.  He
looked over his shoulder, grinned and winked at me.

   'A little spit is all you need.'

   'I'll be small for you.'

   'Then you'll have to fuck me all the harder for that, boy.' He laughed
and wiggled his arse.

   I spat on my fingers and wiped my knob with it, which was already
glistening with my own precum.  He was a bit high for me, and I had to grab
a pillow to kneel on: then it was exactly right.  I lined up my little
stiffy with his dark little hole and pushed.  It accepted me gladly, and I
told myself I was a real gay now I had had a bottom!  Of course I was eager
and certainly fucked him fast and furious.  I remember slapping his bottom
cheeks with and open palm in time with my thrusts, and soon I was coming, a
real big orgasm for a little boy!







   .............................................................

   JOLYON

   'We're the lucky ones, Alexander.'

   Wev were propped up in the bed and drinking the coffee that I had made
for him.  I had been careful to give him the best and most provocative
views of my body as I walked from the bed to the door, wiggling my arse a
bit like a whore in Station Street!  And coming back gave him my profile,
though my cock was only half-hard.

   'Yes!  That was great!'

   'It was, but that's not what I meant.  Poor Josh didn't find out about
his gay side till he was nearly an old man.  I knew about mine when I was
your age, and I'm sure you know you're gay, too.'

   'I'm certainly gay, Jolyon.' He laughed.  'I think we just proved that
again.'

   'Us gays, we have a lot more sex, and with a lot more different partners
than the others.  I was lucky, like you, and had dozens of young boys when
I was a teen, as well as a few guys.'

   'Is that why you like boys.'

   'Probably, but I like guys like Josh too.'

   'Why have you shaved all your hair, Jolyon?'

   'It's a long story, but when I was a bit younger than you, about twelve,
I met a guy, a friend of my father's in fact, and he was the first guy to
suck me off and fuck me.  He liked boys,and wanted them to be completely
hairless.  And I was completely smooth when I met him.  But soon I started
to get a few hairs, red, not blonde like yours.  He got me to shave them
off, and I never stopped.'

   'I like that, smooth.'

   'Josh told me you like a hairy bod!'

   'I like you too!'

   'You're lovely, Alexander.  Kiss me again!'

   'Didn't the other boys at school take the piss?  They would at mine. 
They always do with those boys who haven't got any hairs yet.'

   'We didn't shower communally, so they didn't know.  Except the ones I
had fun with, of course.  And they liked me like that!'

   'You had a lot of boys?'

   'Dozens.  Like you I was good-looking and the older boys were after me
all the time.  And I had several of my class-mates too.  We used to have
group jerk-off sessions after school, and my mouth and bottom were
available as a bit of variety!  What about you?'

   'I'd like to, but I don't know how to start.  And I've not been at this
school long, so I don't know them very well, most of them.'

   'There must be one or two older boys who look at you in "that way"
sometimes?  Surely?  You're madly attractive, you know.'

   'Well, there's Dickinson ...  he's in the cricket team but four years
older than me.  And John Evans ...  he's shy and studious, but always
hanging around.  He's a Prefect.I've caught both of them looking at me, and
then looking away quickly.'

   'That'll be it, then.  And what about boys in your class.  There must be
a couple or three other gays.  Statistics, Alexander.'

   'There are a couple, both loners like me, but often hanging around me.'

   'Sounds like four gays to me.  You fancy any of them?'

   'All of them!'

   'Try brushing up against one, or put your hand on his arse or knee.  See
what happens.'

   'I wouldn't dare.'

   'Yes you would.  Promise me you'll try.  Think how frustrated they must
be with no gay sex.'

   'All right!'

   'And when you've had one or two of them, think how good a foursome would
be, you, Josh and me and one of your school friends....on this bed here!'

   'Mmmmmmmmm.  I could do it again, if you want, Jolyon....'

   ................................................................