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 Light Blues : by (c) Hamilton Joyce

   Nigel and I had been room-mates all that first term.  It had, of course
been pure chance that had thrown us together, the College authorities
seeing two lads both both having won scholarships from the same school. 
The good luck was that we were both gay and really compatible: we were
lovers in a very real sense.

   We were not, however, jealous lovers.

   I remember how the idea was formed.  Nigel and I were sitting in a pub
garden by the river drinking a glass or two of wine as usual on an early
autumn evening.  (One of the ways we advertised our homsexuality was by
drinking wine rather than the beer favoured by the more hearty crowd!)
Conversation moved from our home towns, to our old school, and then to
teachers.

   'I was lucky.  Algie Bolton taught me in fourth and fifth, then for two
years in sixth form, and then coached me in the third year for the exam
here.  He's a brilliant teacher and a lovely man.'

   'I was never taught by him.  I liked him though and always thought he
was gay.  Gay?'

   'Oh yes, obviously so.  But repressed, poor chap.  You'd like him.  I
saw him stripped once at the beach on holiday: he's quite good looking for
a guy of forty or so, and very amusing.  He's read everything.  I mean
everything.'

   'Lives alone, I suppose, and never laid a hand on any of the boys?'

   'You've got it in one, Nige.  Sublimates his feelings by throwing
himself into brilliant teaching, and especially for any really bright boys
that come his way.'

   'Pretty ones too, I guess, sweetie!'

   'You're so nice to me, Nige.  But yes, I think his favourites were all
good looking!'

   'You should get him up here for a weekend.  Reward him for his efforts
for you.'

   'Great idea, Nige.  I'll write today.'

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

   About two weeks later I met him at the station.

   'This is very nice of you, Robin.  I've been looking forward.'

   'So have I, sir.'

   'Oh, call me Algie now.'

   But I carried his bag for him, and we dropped it off in my rooms and
went first to Kings College.  We were lucky: the sun was shining, doing
justice to the magnificent stained glass windows making pools of colour on
the stone floor.  It was a Saturday, but in the days before mass tourism
filled the wonderful building with crowds of be-camera'd tourists t was
tranquil.  Then we got really lucky, and an organist started his practise:
the Bach on the great organ filled the mighty Chapel and was utterly
compelling.  We listened together for half an hour till the music stopped.

   'The way it fills one's experience, overwhelming any sense of self,
reminds me of orgasm, Algie.'

   'Good lord, Robin, that's a bizarre comparison, but I quite see what you
mean.'

   Outside we ran into Claude Rogers, a boy who sometimes slept with Nigel
and me.  I introduced them.

   Claude was deliberately more camp than usual, if that's possible.  'Mr
Bolton, Robin has told me so much about you.  And how lucky you were to
have such a pretty boy to devote your efforts on.'

   'You're impossible, Claude.'

   'No, Robin, just improbable.  Gotta run now, have lots and lots of fun
together darlings.  Byeee!'

   As he disappeared towards the street I explained he was a brilliant
young man, a scholar at Trinity and accepted as a budding poet.

   'Gay as well, I suppose?  I'm surprised he could be as open and obvious
as that.'

   'Oh it's quite fashionable nowadays in Cambridge, and there's plenty of
us.'There!  It was out!  And Algie Bolton went silent as he worked through
the implications of this discovery.  "Plenty of US!" 'We had better grab a
quick lunch before the pubs fill up, and I've got theatre tickets for this
evening.'

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

   The day went well and quickly with sight-seeing, bumping into friends as
one does in a comparatively small community, a quick meal before the
theatre, and then a fine performance of Twelfth Night.  By the end of the
day we were old friends rather than master and pupil.  Back to the College
and my rooms.

   Nigel was there and in Noel Coward mode to meet my teacher.  He had on
those Persian slippers with glass rubies and emeralds sewn onto the gold
silk, and the long white silk negligee (he called it a dressing gown, but
it undoubtedly had been designed as a feminine garment!) The robe showed
his willowy figure off to perfection, and he knew it, as it clung to him
and showed his nipples through the fine fabric.

   'Do join me in a glass of wine, darlings.  I've just opened a half
decent bottle.'

   'I thought you were down in London this weekend, Nige.'

   'Sorry, pet.  My friend Jolyon had to cancel last thing.  Never mind,
Algie, Robin's got a big bed, and he doesn't snore.'

   Algie was quick witted, and he would have instantly have noticed that
not only did Nige expect him to sleep with me, but that he himself had: I
did not snore!

   'You were to have borrowed Nige's bed, but you'll have to share mine
now.'

   We finished the bottle and talked about Twelfth Night, and then a long
academic discussion of Measure For Measure, that most sinister of all
Shakespeare's comedies.  Then it was time for bed.  I lent Algie a towel
for the shared bathrooms across the quad.  When we returned, Nige had
discretely retired.  There was a note for me from him.  I read it.....red
ink on pink paper!

   "I nipped down to Hatherton this morning and looked up Fothergill. 
Remember him?  Pretty lad in fifth year and a real goer!  Anyway, he's a
great hulking brute now in Upper Sixth, Captain of Rugger would you adam &
eve it!  And made a pass at me immediately....  he's a boarder, so I let
him have me on his study carpet!  Vigorous fellow!  But that's by-the-by,
as we have sorted out a nice surprise for Algie.  Look out for a Special
Delivery letter before 9 tomorrow morning.  I've told Dick it's ok for him
to sign for it although it's addressed to Algie.  Sweet dreams eventually,
darling!  xxx N."

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

   His was not a young man's body, of course, but not bad at all.  I mean
he was reasonably muscled, and had no flab anywhere.  I was surprised how
little body hair he had.  Both Nige and I shaved and waxed all of ours, and
Algie had not much more really, just a bit round his cock and balls.  He
had also picked up a sun-tan somewhere in the summer, and had pretty tan
lines on his arse.

   'I usually sleep naked.  hope you don't mind?'

   'Not at all, dear boy.  That's my habit too.' I think he was just
slightly drunk: I certainly was.  But he only allowed me the swiftest
glimpse of his cock, at least half hard, as he slipped under the duvet.  I
took my time, hanging my clothes up to show him my arse, but joined him in
bed.

   'Did you know I was gay, Algie, I mean when you were teaching me?'

   'I wondered.  You always seemed more sensitive, and much nicer than most
of the other boys.  I suppose more to the point, did you know you were gay?
I mean before you got to Cambridge and met others?'

   'Not until half way through the Fifth Form.  It was one of the boys who
showed me I was for sure, though I'd often thought I was.  Fothergill, and
he was two years my junior.  He didn't do English so you may not know him.
I suppose you could say he seduced me, though that sounds as if I wasn't
willing.  I was as eager as him in fact.  We sometimes wondered if you were
gay.  And Mr Jenkins, too, in fact, Nigel's favourite teacher.  Nige is
reading Mathematics as a result I think.'

   'Old Jenkins?  Well, goodness gracious!  I suppose I'm like you before
the enterprising Fothergill took you in hand.  I think I am, but have never
done more than imagine what it would be like.'

   'Time to make up for lost time then.' I took him in my arms.  'Kiss me,
Algie.'

   He was hesitant at first but of course each second that passed
mouth-to-mouth he became more enthusiastic until soon we were tongueing
each other and writhing together.  I could feel how hard he had become.

   He came up for air after several minutes of this comparatively innocent
oral play, and like the good school-teacher was analysing.

   'I've never felt so excited, Robin, really never!  I expect it's partly
that pill you gave me....  it was viagra wasn't it?'

   'Sorry!  It was Cialis, similar but longer-lasting.  Thought you knew.
But you wouldn't, of course, you darling man.  I can't get enough of you:
you've a great body, Algy.  Made for lurve!' I deliberately made a bit of a
joke of it as Algy seemed a tad thoughtful.  'I can tell you fancy me!' T
make my point I slipped a hand between us and grasped his cock.

   And with that I slid down the bed and took his knob in my mouth I
wondered how often he had imagined this, a young man (a boy?) sucking at
his cock.  I intended to make this, his first night, wholly memorable ,
wholly sensuous, wholly delightful.  Liberating too.

   I felt his legs tense, relax, and then he opened them wider.  I stroked
his thighs as I sucked him.

   'That's lovely, Robin.  I always knew it would be, but those wasted
years.'

   'Make up for it from now on.  Plenty of years left....'

   'I will, starting now.'

   And with that he reversed on the bed, and we had a very passionate
sixty-nine session, me finally laying on top of him and sucking while he
fingered my balls and sucked as I shagged his face.  I made sure he came
first....  the sort of hot, creamy load you would expect from a guy who
loses his virginity in his forty third year.  The taste of his silky cum
made me cum, as it always does, and he accepted it all, swallowing and
still sucking till the last oozings had finished.

   I was amused to see him absent-mindedly licking his lips after: he would
want to do that again....  and would find plenty of willing boys at
Hatherton if he had the nerve to ask!

   'I like a ciggy after sex.  Do you mind?'

   'No.  In fact I think I'll share it with you.  I haven't smoked since I
was a little boy, but tonight is a good time for all sorts of firsts!  Not
that I ever had sex as a boy....'

   We lay side-by-side, sharing the cigarette, in silence, but my hand was
on his nipple, and his was on my cock.  Before the cigarette was finished
we were both hard again.  Miracles of modern prarmaceutical science!

   'Nigel is almost feminine, isn't he?'

   'He's just teasing: it amuses him to shock the bourgeoisie: and a lot of
the guys like it.  He even has quite a few of the so-called straight ones.'

   'You're not jealous, Robin.  I mean you seem very close....'

   'Good lord no!  I love to see him enjoying life.'

   'You fuck him, don't you?  Does he fuck you?'

   'He has done, but mostly I'm top and he's bottom.  What do you think
you'd like, Algy.  Stick this lovely hard cock up me, or have mine up you
first?'

   'I think I'd rather have you do me, Robin, but to be honest, I'm just a
bit afraid.  I want it, I know, but won't it be dreadfully painful?'

   'Not if we take our time.  Now put that fag-end out and lay on your
belly.  Better still put a couple of pillows under your belly.  I'm going
to wake your firm little bottom up, after all these years of slumber.'

   I spread his buttocks, enjoying the muscles under very silky skin: his
anus was puckered and pretty, tight closed and a smooth pinky-brown with
only a few wisps of dark hair.  I leaned over and planted a wet kiss on it,
feeling his whole body tense as I did so.  With the point of my tongue I
circled it several times and felt him relax under my hands.  So I
penetrated him with my tongue.  He giggled!

   'That tickles!'

   I fucked him in and out with perhaps half an inch of my tongue.

   'Nice though!'

   We continued like this for about ten minutes, him laying inert, me
caressing his thighs, buttocks and back and rimming thoroughly.  I love
rimming a slim and fairly muscular arse, and the knowledge that this was
his first time and that he was ecstatic gave it an extra fillip.

   At last I'd had enough, and whispered.

   'And now I'm going to show you that secret male place called the
prostate gland, Algie.  Don't move!'

   I keep a tub of Analsilk by the bed and spread a large dollop in his
arsecrease, then just inside his anus with the tip of my finger.

   'Oooh!'

   That was the reaction to my index finger slideing into his arse, the
first foreign object ever to do that I should think.  I deliberately
avoided his prostate for the first few frigging motions, but when he seemed
used to the idea of anal masturbation I let my finger press on the lump.

   'Ooooooh!  What was that?'

   'Just here?  Like this?'

   I pressed, relaxed, pressed, relaxed, pressed, relaxed.

   'That's terrific!  I can see why men like to be fucked.  I could cum
like this.'

   I was laying alongside him now and I whispered in his ear.

   'That's your prostate, Algie, and it's longing for a cock.  But for the
moment it's going to have to make do with a few more fingers while I
stretch and relax your anus, ready for the main course.'

   I did not want him to cum just yet in case he lost the urge.  So I only
pressed his gland from time to time, finger-fucking him now with three
fingers and really opening him up.  Now was the time.

   I lay on top of him and placed my knob over his anus.  pressing but not
entering.

   'That feels nice, the pressure there and your weight on me....'

   I pressed a bit harder and, no hands, my knob entered him.

   'Ouch!'

   I pushed and slowly, gently my whole shaft slid up, penetrating until my
pubes rested on his bottom.

   'I'm right in you now, Algie.  OK?'

   'It hurt the first moment but it's ok now.  I can't feel it touching
that sensitive place in there.....'

   Algie later told me that it had hurt fiercely and he wondered why guys
allowed it to happen to them, but he bit the pillow on the principle that
you make your bed and lie on it.  But gradually the pain was overlaid by
something approaching pleasure, and finally by real pleasure....

   'You will feel it now!' and I started to shag him.  Laying on top like
this so I can kiss his neck, nibble him, is one of my favourite
positions....  sexy and not too demanding athletically!  I started slowly,
gently.

   'That's nice.  Oh yes!  That's rubbing right.  Oh yes!'

   No swear words, no oaths from my polite and civilised school-master, but
obvious pleasure as I speeded up, fucking him hard and fast now.  We must
have lasted about five minutes till....

   'God!  I'm going to cum!'

   I could let myself go now, and with a few even harder thrusts I unloaded
into his bum.

   We lay there silent a long time.

   'I came without touching my cock, just from being fucked.  Amazing.  I'm
afraid I made a mess of your bedclothes....'

   'Successful first, then!'

   'Oh yes!'

   Best clean ourselves up a bit.  there's a flannel here.  I stood at the
sink, washed my cock and then pissed.

   'Use the sink to pee in.  It's down two flights, round two sides of the
quad, and down another flight by the showers, if you don't.

   I watched while Algie wiped his arse, and then pissed.

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

   In the morning we were awoken by Nigel with three cups of Costa coffee
and a large letter.  He took off his dressing gown to reveal completely
outrageous girlie panties ....the sort better descibed as "knickers", pink
satin with white lace trimmings...  and squeezed into bed with us.  Algie
and I sat up and arranged the pillows behind us three.

   'Coffee!  You really look after us Nigel!'

   'And this.  Special delivery for Mr Algernon Bolton, care of Mr Robin
Fulhorn'.

   'Open it, Algie...'

   Inside the buff envelope was a card, with a drawing in black ink on the
front: a version of Rodin's "Kiss", with the difference that the couple
were two athletic young men.  He opened the card and a handwritten note
fell out.  He read it aloud.
"The boys who signed this all have the hots for you, Algie, and are
longing to warm your bed for you.  There are 38!  I circulated it round
second, third, and fourth years, but did not have time or room on the card
for fifth and sixth forms, where there are dozens more who feel the same,

including Yours faithfully, Roger Fothergill."

   'Good lord!  And Fothergill too.  I do know him now, Robin: he's such a
big, virile lad!'

   'All sorts at Hatherton, Algie.'

   'You organised this, Nigel?  I'm so grateful.'

   The ice had been broken with everyone's favourite teacher, and he had
already decided to make up for all those wasted years.  A life of
hedonistic pleasure beckoned, and his cock and already responded.  in fact,
Nigel's hand was on it right now!

   'I'm a simple man, Algie, and my only reward will be your pleasure, and
especially if you find it right now, in me, up me.  I've been longing for
you to fuck me.'

   They had slid down the bed and with Nigel's whispered words they were
kissing.  I collected the empty beakers and put them with that card on the
side table.

   Algie looked down at Nigel, in his satin panties: it was strange how
sexy an athletic young man could look in such frivolous underwear, perhaps
extra horny?  He could see the shape of Nigel's cock through the shiny
fabric and leaned over to nuzzle it with his cheek, and then with his
mouth.

   'Like my silks, Algie?'

   'Very sexy, but Better like this....'

   As he pulled them down the young man raised his hips and his cock sprang
into view.  Naked now, still laying on his back, he raised his legs and his
bottom was revealed to his ex-teacher.  Algie found that sexy too, so
smooth and tight-closed, and above all hairless.  The thought crossed
Algie's mind "those second and third year boys must have hairless bottoms
like this....  and the ones who signed the card would all let me, want me
to.....".  With this happy realisation he placed a kiss right on the spot!

   But there was a hand on his own cock now, and he realised Robin was
spreading lubricant on it, and then that same hand was greasing Nigel's
crack and anus, finger tip penetrating.  He did not know that men could
fuck in this position, having always imagined kneeling when he had allowed
himself to think about such matters at all.  But it was obvious what this
handsome young man wanted, and sure enough his cock slipped easily up into
him.

   And they were fucking!  Nigel's hand flew up and down his cock, jerking
as Algie fucked him hard, almost desperately.  Then Algie saw the lad close
his eyes and come, a stream of white spunk splattering over his chest.  It
was familiar in a way, as he had masturbated for all those wasted years,
spraying his cum up over his own belly and chest.  But it was different
too, and so much more exciting: he had given this lovely young man the
ultimate pleasure.  He felt happy and proud as he came too too, a
body-shaking orgasm.

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

   Later that morning Nigel punted us on the river.  It was a fine day and
in the afternoon the river would be crowded, but early the punting was
relaxed.

   Laying beside Robin on the cushions it was good to watch the slender,
athletic young man as he skillfully managed the punt pole.  He looked good
in singlet and shorts, and only the two laying in the punt knew what he
wore under those tight, too-short shorts!

   'Was that your first with a man, when you fucked Nige?'

   'My first ever!  I never fucked woman or man before.  But I now know
what I've missed.  It was exciting, delightful, fulfilling.  I liked it
when you fucked me, Robin, but this was a different order of pleasure.'

   'Then after lunch you must fuck me, Algie, make up for the years at
Hatherton when you could have been enjoying me in your study!'

   'My train is at five.'

   'Plenty of time, then.  What are you going to do when you get back to
Hatherton?'

   'First I've got to say thank you to Roger Fothergill.....'

   'He's got a great body now, Nigel says, and he fucks like an angel
apparently.  You'll enjoy saying thanks!'

   'Then......  there's a boy in my house signed the card, Ronald Matthews.
Third year now, He's a bright, clever, cheerful boy and very good-looking.
Blonde and blue-eyed and quite athletic but still slender.'

   'Third year...  that would be thirteen.  And above all eager!'

   'Exactly.'

   Algie, unmarried and a Housemaster, lived in a small cottage actually on
the school campus; as well as his study it housed his own spartan bedroom,
and his guest room.  He lay there thinking.  He would use the guestroom
where there was a double bed, and improve the furniture and fittings. 
Perhaps some satin sheets to give the boys a treat!  Some boys he might
have in his study, but how much better in bed.

   Amazingly, his cock was stiff again, not missed by myself as I laid my
hand on Algie's crotch, secure in the knowledge that my teacher had at
least one fuck left in him for the afternoon.

   No hurry!  Up the river and back down again, lunch with a good bottle,
the three of us, and then back to College with Algie, just the two, to
reinforce Algie's new hobby.  Goodbyes on the station platform with
promises to visit again, which would certainly be kept.

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

   FIN for now.