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

   CRAIG's STORY: No employers would get away with it nowadays, in these
politically correct times, but in the sixties, when I was a teenager, lots
of local businesses employed lads who were legally still children,
especially at weekends.  And it was a much more permissive age in other
respects as well.

   I was always on the look-out for ways of earning money.  I needed cash
for cigarettes, the cinema, books and disks, repairs to my bicycle, and bus
fares, especially to the coast in summer.  We had simple tastes in those
days and I can't think I would have spent a shilling of my own on clothes
or shoes!  I was too young for booze, and it was just before the age of
Aquarius and pot.

   I had one good regular job which involved handing out football pools
coupons to the crowds arriving for the local football team matches.  This
paid five shillings when the first team had a home match, and half a crown
when the reserves were playing.  Of course, the cash dried up in the summer
when there were no matches, though if there was a weekend marching-band
event or some such, then again I could hand out the summer coupons
(Aussie-Rules football).

   So I was always there at least two hours before the match, and got to
know the players and managers of the club quite well: they usually greeted
me by name as they arrived.  I was called Rodney in those days, a name I
loathed!  The Chairman, Alderman Henderson, was particularly friendly,
despite the fact he was an important man, Mayor the year before: he always
asked me for a coupon.  I bet he never filled it in!

   And that job led to an even better one, which eventually led to my
acting and film career, though indirectly.  It was at the beginning of the
new season, and I had taken up my place outside the North Gate.  Mr
Henderson greeted me and stopped to chat in the late summer sun.  As usual
I was wearing a Rovers shirt and shorts to show who I supported and to get
the goodwill of the fans who I wanted to take my coupons, and certainly not
just throw them down, which would annoy the promoter, my employer.

   'Do you stay to watch the match, Rodney?'

   'Always Mr Henderson.  I'm a real fan.'

   'Glad to hear it.  Look, how old are you?'

   'Thirteen, sir .'

   'I've noticed you seem to put everything into your work.  I mean you are
always on time; whatever the weather you're here, and I've noticed you
never throw any of these away.  It must be tempting just to stick a bundle
down the drain.  I like that in a boy.  Conscientious.'

   'I try to do it properly,sir.'

   'Call me Guy.  Everyone else does.'

   He was looking me up and down, and there was that look in his eye that
I'd seen before in Mr Juniper, our Biology teacher.  All the boys said old
Juniper was gay (the word did not exist then: they would have said homo, or
poofter), so I knew what that look meant!  At night, in my bed, I used to
imagine "Jelly" Juniper cuddling me naked in his arms and jerking me off.
He was not handsome, but he was the only gay I knew of.  I had already
decided I was probably gay.  I mean girls did nothing for me, though I knew
most of my schoolfriends were mad about them, always talking about them and
boasting of their exploits.  And I used to have to pretend sharing their
enthusiasm, looking at pictures of cunts and tits that did rather less than
excite me.  But the showers, and naked boys....  well that was another
matter!  Surely Mr Henderson wasn't gay too?  It looked as if he was, and
he clearly fancied me.  And he was so much more handsome than Juniper,
sexy! He was always so immaculately dressed and groomed, even his finger
nails.  And you could see he had broad shoulders and a real good physique
despite being old (thirty-five or so being a great age to a young teen!) He
seemed to be focused on my crotch, staring at me.  I was suddenly aware how
tight my shorts and shirt were.  I was sure he could see my nipples through
the tight gold and black shirt, and my cock was getting hard under the
black silk.  It was tight there even when I was not hard.  I think I must
have blushed scarlet.

   'You look older than thirteen.  Well-built for your age, boy.  I like
that.  That shirt and shorts are getting a bit tight on you.  Look, what I
was going to say is since you are here in any case, you might like to earn
a little on match days.  Buy some more kit, if you like.  You get it at
trade price if you work for the Club.'

   'I'd like that, sir.  I mean earn some cash.'

   ''Better wait till you hear what it involves first!.  Match days I
usually entertain some of my friends in my private rooms here, half a dozen
or so.  Sometimes a director from the visiting team, mostly not.  Depends.
Well, it depends on their taste and discretion mostly, but that's another
story.  We have a few young lads like you who serve the drinks, empty the
ash-trays and keep the place tidy.  And for the team itself, and any of my
guests who want to clean up before going home, then they make sure the
showers stay civilised, and there's dry towels etc.  You get to watch the
match from the Directors' Box as well.  Used to be five boys, but one has
left us, so I need another.  You'd be here till about nine....that's about
eight hours, and the pay is.... ...  Lord!  I forget, but come up to the
clubhouse before the game next Saturday, and ask for Jeremy.  He'll fill
you in.  Be there at one o'clock.'

   'I'll do that,sir.  Thankyou, sir.'

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

   GUY HENDERSON: About ten years later.  The leather armchairs were deep
and comfortable and the fire blazed away with two great oak logs. 
Mitchell, my butler had left a decanter and two glasses and been dismissed
till morning.

   "Guy, you once mentioned you knew Craig Campbell."

   "Very well indeed.  He was one of my Rovers boys for a couple of years.
He was Rodney Witherspoon then."

   "Can see why he changed it.  No name for a film star!.  My grand
daughter's got a full length cardboard picture of him in her room.  Naked
except for tight white speedos."

   "And I expect you slip in there to have a peek, get yourself in the mood
for shagging Jill.  You're a dirty old man, Gus."

   "You know me too well, Guy.  He must have been a lovely boy when he was
a teen.  Tell me about him.  Get us in the mood for bed.  I'm looking
forward to a good seeing-to."

   "And you'll get it, sweetheart!  He was just right when I recruited him.
I'd watched him the season before and decided he was still too young.  But
the first match of the new season he looked just so sexy and really ready
to learn.  He'd tanned beautifully during the summer, and had started to
fill out, begun to get that athletic build that looks so good in speedos.
He also had that look in his eye when he talked to you.  You must know it.
Sometimes when a boy has it, sort of knowing-wanting-hoping, you just know
he will be willing."

   "Mmmmmmmmm.  How old was he then?"

   "Thirteen or perhaps fourteen.  Can't remember.  Thirteen I guess.  He
used to hand out the pools coupons before the match.  I always took one and
passed the time of day, mainly because he was such a little nymphet.  Threw
it away when I got inside the ground of course.  You should have seen him
that Saturday, Gus.  Blonde, tanned, long-limbed.  He was wearing the
Rovers strip as usual, but it must have been last year's because it was
tight.  I could see his tiny little nipples through the gold and black
silk, and better still, his black silk shorts were so tight they rode up
into his arse crease, cute little bubble-butt, and I swear I could see his
cock and balls almost as if he was naked.  A wet dream, I kid you not."

   "Lord, I wish I had been back in the UK then."

   "You do enjoy our match-day frolics, don't you, Gus?  He'd moved on by
the time you joined the Board.  Anyway, I chatted with him, and could not
take my eyes off that pretty little crotch.  And as I watched, I could see
it beginning to swell, until there was now no doubt: I really could make
out the shape of a pretty little, little-boy cock.  I caught him looking at
my crotch, where I had a considerable tent I tell you.  I looked him full
in the face, and knew instantly he had read my mind, knew what I was
thinking.  He blushed a lovely crimson.  I ignored that and told him to
report to the ground next Saturday for his new job.  Another brandy,Gus?"

   "Thankyou, Guy, I will.  This is Armagnac isn't.  Rougher than your
Cognac, but I prefer it."

   "We both like a bit of rough, hey!"

   "Let's take them to bed.  You can finish the story later."

  
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..........................................................
CRAIG:
The next Saturday I was ten minutes early, but Jeremy was waiting for
me. He went to the same school as me but was in the sixth form, three years
ahead of me.  I knew him to look at of course, but had never spoken to him.
He gave me a good, friendly welcome and showed me where to leave my bicycle
safe.  It occurred to me that he looked just like me three years on, same
cropped hair, same tan, and I hoped I would have that same slim, athletic
body.  He was wearing a sweat shirt and cut-off denim jeans: I thought he
looked very sexy.  I was glad I had worn my sweat-shirt and khaki shorts, I

had my Rovers strip in a plastic bag.

   'Did Guy tell you the pay?'

   'No.'

   'It's OK.  We get here at one, and it's usually eight or nine before we
get away.  There'll be £5 in your locker when you look, that's for today.
Over five shillings an hour.  Prety good.'

   'Fantastic.'

   'Doesn't stop there.  There's tips as well.'

   'Tips?'

   'You'll see.  Depends on what extra services you're willing to give. 
Personally I do most things anyone wants, so I get a lot.'

   'Services?'

   'Better wait and see, Rodney.  I'll show you round.'

   There were already a few people in the office, but we went past the
window with a wave.  The clubhouse was nearly deserted, but as we went past
the room with "Physio" on the door I saw Muzzie, the team physio was in. 
He was a figure of fun to the fans as he often ran onto the field with his
bag of tricks, head shaven bald.  But naked he was no joke.  We had assumed
he was fat: now I saw it was all muscle.  And the most impressive muscle of
all stood out in front of him: his cock was the biggest I had ever seen: it
would still, after so many cocks, be among the broadest.  And not only his
head was shaved: his whole body was hairless and gleamed with oil.  In
front of him, on the treatment table, was draped the familiar figure of our
star centre forward, Jamie McFee.  He lay there with his head cradled in
his arms, his legs hanging over the sides of the table.  He too had been
oiled fron head to foot.  I had a sudden thought.  I wondered if they had
oiled each other.  The thought of rubbing oil into those bodies, one
muscular and stocky, the other lean and hard, made my little cock stand.  I
stood in the doorway.  Jeremy had gone on without me.  As I watched, I saw
Muzzie place his cock between Jamie's arsecheeks.  His buttocks clenched as
he drove the prick up into my idol's anus.  I'm sure my jaw dropped in
amazement: certainly my cock twitched.  It was the most exciting thing I'd
ever seen.

   'Come on, Rodney.  Nice show, but there's work to do.'

   Jeremy returned and stood beside me for a moment.

   He whispered, 'Looks as if Jamie needed a bit of massage before the
match.'

   Muzzie heard and looked over his shoulder.  He grinned and winked at us
without breaking the rhythm of his fucking.  Jamie McFee was groaning, but
I could see from his face in the mirror that filled the end wall it was
pleasure and not pain..

   'Come on!'

   I could have watched all afternoon, but Jeremy pulled me by the arm, and
we went up several flights of stairs.  Through a door, and I realised we
were in the Directors' Box, with its long window overlooking the pitch. 
I'd often looked up at the long window, black one-way glass from outside.

   'First we move five of those chairs to a line along the window.  No, we
lift them or we'll spoil the carpet.'

   'Five?'

   'Guy always leaves a note in the lobby downstairs.  There's him plus
four this afternoon.  Sometimes there's more.  Never less for the first
team.'

   We shifted the chairs, each with a side-table for drinks and an
ash-tray.

   'Now the heating.  They'll need it later in the evening.  The
thermostat's in that box up there.  I usually stand on this table here so I
can reach it.  You do it.'

   We moved the side table and I stood on it, reaching up to open the
cupboard.  I felt Jeremy's hand on my thigh, holding me steady.  Then it
slipped up inside my shorts to cup my bottom, and his other hand round the
front held me fast pressing over my cock.  I found the switch, but did not
hurry to step down.  I liked the feel of hands on my body.  So did he,
because the pretence of holding me safe had been abandoned, and he was
kneading my butt and stroking my crotch.

   'Nice, Rodney.  But first the job.'

   He showed me how to unlock the bar, and there was a checklist of things
to do to set it up.

   'Now Guy's own rooms.'

   He unlocked the door at the back of the Box and showed me in.  The first
thing I saw was the bed, huge, covered in the gold satin of Rovers'
colours, and black satin pillows.

   'This is Guy's love-nest!' Jeremy laughed.  'Showy isn't it?  Like a
tart's boudoire!'

   There was something odd about it.  The signed photographs on the walls
were all of footballers, some in club strip, others muscular and naked, yet
the decor was heavy, satins and velvets.  And the carpet was very thick,
again in Rovers' satin and gold.

   'We don't have much to do here.  just light a joss-stick, Guy likes
that. And switch on the heating.' He moved a table over to the corner and
stood on it.  My turn now to slip a hand up Jeremy's shorts to cup his
buttocks, and my other hand up the front to find his cock through cotton
underpants.  Like me he waited while I had a good feel and caress.  Like me
he was hard.  The first hard cock I'd ever handled: except my own of
course. He felt bigger than me I thought.  He laughed.  'You'll get on well
here, Rodney.  Guy never gets it wrong!  Now we have to go and check the
team's changing rooms are ok.'

   Down the stairs again and past the Physio Room where the door was still
open but no-one inside, and then to the Changing Rooms.  The first door was
marked visitors and we went past it to the one with the Rovers crest over
it.  Inside three boys were laying out heaps of thick towels and white
bath-robes.  The great communal bath was still empty.  I was introduced to
two of them, Kevin and Mark, but already knew the third, Dazza, who was at
my school but a year ahead of me.  He was in the Colts Football Team (the
under-fifteens), and I sometimes made that team despite being a year
younger than most.  All three boys were blonde like Jeremy and me, and all
three looked very sexy to me.  They seemed very friendly, and had that look
in their eye,looking me up and down as we chatted a moment or two.  As
usual I studied their crotches and saw all of them, like Jeremy and me, had
interesting bulges.  And I was going to get paid for this!  (I was
beginning to guess what the 'extra services' might be, and was in no way
discouraged by the prospect.)

   They had finished the work in the team rooms before we got there.

   'What about the away team's facilities?'

   Jeremy answered me.  'Old Joe Harbin looks after them.  They don't get
any boys!  That'd be too good for them!  But now we all have our showers
now and change into club strip.'

   I had seen Dazza in the showers before and his lean, athletic look was
just what turned me on in a boy.  The other three looked pretty good as
well stripped naked.  They all had a bit more hair than me, but being
blonde and still fourteen it was still really just wisps of fine golden
hair.  Jeremy had more, a lovely golden triangle under his six-pack belly.
We all showered together.  I made sure I was close to Dazza, who I had
always fancied.

   'Soap my back, Rodney?'

   It was an offer I was unlikely to refuse.  The skin on his shoulders and
back was smooth and silky.  I ran my soapy hands down over his back and
then round his buttocks, down into the crease.  He wriggled, and I soaped
very thoroughly there.  He turned round, and I soaped his hairelss chest,
then down over his belly.  He pushed his hips out towards me in invitation,
and I soaped his groin.  His cock grew from half-hard to a full erection,
so upright it was near to touching his belly.  His near- hairless balls and
cock slid under my palms as they slipped over them.  He laughed.

   'You now!' And I felt male hands caressing my body for the first time.
Beside us Kevin and Jeremy were actually hugging each other under the warm
needle spray, and to my astonishment and delight they kissed, a long,
lover's kiss.  I made an involuntary move towards Dazza, and in a moment we
were in each other's arms.  His tongue entered my mouth, and I gave a
little start as a finger entered my arse.  'Have you ever been fucked,
Rodney?'

   'No.  I've thought about it ...'

   'I'll bet you have.' That finger was moving in and out now, slipping in
the suds, and it felt good.  Strange, but certainly nice.  Our cocks rubbed
together, both hard.  'You'll get plenty here.'

   Jeremy must have been able to hear his whisper despite the rushing of
the water because he interrupted.  'But not just now, you two sweethearts.
We'll be late.  And in any case, save your spunk for later.  You'll need
all of it.  More you cum, the more you earn.'

   The others laughed, but the water stopped, and we were drying.  I was
very aware my strip was at least one size too small.  the only comment was
from Dazza.  'Very sexy!'

   'I feel daft: it's too tight.'

   'They'll love it!'

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

   CRAIG I was so nervous as I followed Jeremy into the Directors' Box.  I
was afraid I was ridiculous in my too-tight shirt and shorts despite the
other boys telling me how sexy I looked.  They had made me leave off my
underpants ("only get in the way; you'll see"), and I knew my cock and
balls could be seen as clear as if the tight satin of the Rovers' strip had
been see-thru.  My nipples, too, had been standing ever since Dazza kissed
me in the showers, and showed so clear through my black and gold shirt. 
That question in the showers, whether I had ever had a cock in my arse, had
set me thinking too.  I was excited by the idea, but frightened as well.  I
knew, or half-guessed (hoped perhaps?) that I was going to be admitted into
the grown-up world of physical sex, and the prospect was tantalising but
alarming at the same time.  I need not have worried though, as Uncle Guy
put a protective arm round my shoulder and introduced me to the other two
directors, Sidney Fulton and Sir Alexander Doone ("call them Sid and Allie:
that's what they like").  There were two guests, Murdo Morrison and Patrick
Sankey.  They both shook my hand as if I was a grown-up, and I guess that
was the first time anyone had ever shaken my hand, let alone someone as
important and distinguished as Uncle Murdo.  There was no need to tell me,
though Uncle Guy did, that he was Chief Constable.  He was wearing the
uniform of our Chief of Police, and I thought he looked splendid, and so
very tall and strong, masculine and sexy, almost as good as Uncle Guy in
fact.  I noticed he held onto my hand in his firm grasp for a long time
after we had shaken hands.Later I recognised this as one of the clues that
a guy fancied me, wanted sex with me.  Pat, the other guest, was nowhere
near as well-built: he may have been at some time in the past, but he was
balding now, and had a beer-gut scarcely hidden by the tightly belted
trousers.  He was a builder, and one of the richest men in our town:
everyone knew him, and his great house on the hill.  I thought Uncle Guy,
Sid, Allie, and Murdo were all sexy, but was not so sure about Pat.

   All the men had that look in their eye as we were introduced, and all of
them allowed their eyes to flicker between my crotch and my own eyes.  My
cock was now at least half-hard, as I realised they were ALL gay, even the
Chief Constable.  Later, I would learn how Guy Henderson protected himself
from legal trouble.  Many of the leading personalities of the Town and
County found themselves invited on match-days, and could be relied upon to
squash any hint of scandal or worse.  Later I would meet, and give my young
body willingly to, the Bishop of Barchester, our Member of Parliament, lots
of County and Town Councillors and Officials, important businessman,
lawyers, doctors.  It seemed nearly every important citizen (male!),
married or not, had a taste for teenage blonde boys!

   'Dazza, show Rodney how to open a bottle of champagne.'

   It was good to have something to do, though I could almost feel lustful
eyes boring into my back, my bottom perhaps, as I stood at the bar with
Dazza behind me.  As he showed me how to unwind the wire and so-gently ease
the cork out, I felt his hips lean against mine.  Then, as I pushed back a
bit, his hard cock resting, pressing against my arsehole through the satin
shorts.  It felt good.  He was telling me how to open it.

   'Gently, as gently as pulling your cock out of a boy's bottom.  Ease it
out, and finally it should make a noise like a nearly-silent fart.  That's
just right.  well done.'

   'Thanks.'

   'Now we pour five glasses.  Say, Rodney, I think you were on the Colts
team sheet yesterday?'

   'Yes.  I'm playing Sunday.  Jeb Donovan has a hamstring again, so I may
get a few matches this season.'

   'Good.  Something nice to look at in the showers.' His cock was still
there, pressing harder, and his left hand round me, holding my cock.  I
hoped the others in the Box could not see what he was doing.  'Look, after
the match tomorrow come round to my place.  My Mum and Dad are out and we
can have some fun.  I've got some great wank books.'

   'I'd like that.'

   'Hey, Dazza, Rodney.  Bring those glasses over.'

   Dazza walked around with a tray of gleaming champagne flutes, while I
followed with the bottle to top people up.  It was still about ten minutes
to kick off, and as I re-filled glasses the bottle soon emptied.  It was a
job I enjoyed, with the men giving my arse a little grope as I served them,
thanking me and smiling that inviting smile.  I'm afraid I flirted with
them, enjoying their admiring attention.  I opened a second bottle, like an
old hand, and then the teams came out on the pitch.  The men went to their
deep armchairs, and each of them had a boy sitting beside them, half on
their laps.  I had the centre chair with Uncle Guy.  (I started calling the
men 'Uncle' that day.  I could never, at thirteen and fourteen, feel quite
right using just their short names: I think they liked it!) The bottle was
on the table beside Jeremy, who was sitting on the Police Chief's lap.

   There was barely room for the two of us in the deep, comfortable chair,
and I was pressed tight against Uncle Guy, and I guess that was the main
idea!

  
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GUY:

   'You look as good as ever, Gus.  Lovely body naked in bed.'

   'I try to keep my looks, Guy, like you.  Get more sex that way, and
better.'

   'I sometimes think about you on the loose in the Royal Navy.  All those
vigorous, sex-starved young sailors.'

   'That's why I joined up!  Got myself fucked silly all day and every
night.'

   'Come here and kiss.  Do you want me to fuck you now, or finish my story
about Rodney Witherspoon alias Graig Campbell first?'

   'Fuck me later, sweetie.'

   'Good things are worth waiting for.  I sat and watched the match with my
arm around the boy, his thigh pressed against mine and his head on my
shoulder.  Very cozy!  but nothing more.  Unlike Murdo, you know, Lord
Morrison who was Police Chief back then: he had his boy's shorts off and
was enjoying that pretty boy-cock.  Pat Sankey I guess didn't see much of
the match as he was kissing and caressing his boy like any teens in the
back row of the cinema.  My two co-directors were watching the match,
having a pleasant grope as well but like me saving the real treats for
later.  A minute before half time we scored.  I kissed the boy.'

   'At half time we opened another couple of bottles and stretched our
legs, the men and the boys really making separate groups as they chatted.
Then back to our chairs.  Now I allowed myself a little feel of his
nipples, sliding my hand up under that too-tight satin shirt.  Immediately
he slipped his hand inside mine and felt for my nipples.  You know how I
love that, Gus....'

   'Mmmmmmmmmmmm.'

   'But that was it till full-time, when I took him into my private rooms.
I decided I wouldn't share his virginity with the others.'

   'You never do, Guy.'

   'True.  That's nice, Gus.  I love your lips on my tits.'

  
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CRAIG:
For the past few years I had watched matches from the "boys' enclosure",
in one corner of the ground with poor visibility, and standing up of
course. That was before the days of all-seater stadiums.  So this was real
luxury.  On the half way line, an uninterrupted view through a great
window, and an oh-so-comfortable chair.  But at first I was hardly aware of
the match, and mostly concerned with the exciting closeness of Uncle Guy.
He smelt so masculine, that mixture of cigar smoke and aftershave that I
still find intoxicating, and his muscular thighs so close, pressed against
my naked legs.  He had his usual immaculate dark suit on, and crisp white
shirt and tie.  He had one arm round my shoulder, but made no other

advances.  Without thinking, I rested my head on his shoulder.

   I so wanted him to caress me.  My cock was hard nearly all that first
half, and he must have known.  But he concentrated on the game.

   Which is more than some of the others did.  Uncle Guy's two co-directors
seemed to be behaving themselves, which is more than could be said for our
Police Chief.  Murdo Morisson had Dazza's shorts down round the boy's
ankles, and was enjoying handling that pretty little cock.  I looked
sideways and could see it standing for him, white and straight with its
rose-red helmet.  No bigger than mine, I thought.  Tomorrow I would have
that pretty cock to play with!  Uncle Murdo had unbuttoned his uniform
jacket and unzipped his trousers.  I could not see his cock, much as I
wanted to, as Dazza was sitting half on his lap.  I remember thinking the
rough uniform cloth would be itchy against the boy's smooth bottom.  The
other guest, Pat Sankey, had not undressed Jeremy (yet!) but neither of
them were watching the game, hugging, kissing, fondling and caressing.

   'Are you sure the crowd see in?'

   He laughed, and felt my thigh.  'No, Rodney.  The glass is opaque from
outside, and a good thing too with what goes on in here.'

   Almost the last kick of the half, Jamie McFee scored with a blast from
twenty five yards.  It was out of the blue, a goal from nothing, and those
are always the most exciting.  Everyone leapt up, including me and Uncle
Guy.  He lifted me in the air, hugged me, and kissed me full on my lips. 
It was a wonderful and formative moment.  I can still feel that kiss all
these years later, the taste of champagne on his lips, and the roughness of
stubble.

   Half-time I served the champagne again, with Jeremy.  The men tended to
make one group, chatting, and the boys another.

   During the second half Uncle Guy slipped his hand up under my shirt and
stroked my chest, making my nipples stand like little pin-heads.  The
feeling ran from my tits right down to my balls.  I felt that I could
safely slip my little hand into the front of his shirt and feel him.  It
was so sexy: a great mat of thick hair.  I combed my fingers through it,
and imagined what it would be like to rest my cheek against a muscular,
hairy chest.  I was excited, and could see a little drop of damp where my
cock made a tent in my shorts.  Precum was a new experience for me!  I
found his nipples in the forest, and made them stand too.  He kissed me
again on the lips, but whispered, 'That's for later.  I need to watch the
match.'

   Kevin and Mark left us at four-thirty.  'They have to get the showers
and bath ready for our team.'

   We won one-nil.  Winston Duval saved the result with a brilliant header
off the line deep into injury time .Seconds after the final whistle, Uncle
Guy was leading me towards his 'love nest'.  'Dazza, Jeremy, one of you nip
down and ask Jamie McFee and Winston Duval to come up later.  Please just
send them in when they get here.'

  
...........................................................................
........................................................
GUY:

   'You sure you don't want me to fuck you, Gus?'

   'Finish your story, Guy.  It'll be all the better for waiting.  Could
finger-fuck me a bit though if you want.'

   'That'll be nice.  Nice precum too.  You're leaking all over the
sheets.'

   'You, too, Guy.'

   'So where was I?  Oh yes, the great seduction.  He was really ready for
it, you know.  He'd had a hard on in those tight little shorts for nearly
two hours, and the front of them was wet!  Me too.  I love a new, virgin
boy more than anything, even old friends, darling.  Did I tell you our boys
have bare feet in the Directors' Box?  It's an old custom, makes the
disrobing so much easier, and there are one or two of my guests who find
young boys' feet a special turn-on....don't get that myself.  Anyway, all I
would have to do was to pull the shirt up over his head: and then slip the
shorts down over his thighs.  You know how lovely he is now!  Well at
thirteen he was a wet-dream.'

   'Oh Guy!  How that takes me back to our schooldays.'

   'Lovely, wasn't it, Gus?  All those willing little boys in their running
shorts.  We didn't know how lucky we were.  Remember that first time, in
the dorm after lights-out?  I was so scared you'd cry out make a scandal,
but you loved it.'

   'All the boys were at it!  And I'd wanted you to come to my bed all that
term.  I even kept a jar of vaseline in my bedside locker!  Short of asking
you, I don't know how I could have made it clearer.'

   'Still prefer the boys, even now.  And I know you do.'

   'Thank goodness for your Rovers then!  Yes, like that.  I love you to
finger fuck me.'

   ' He lay there on the bed as I slowly undressed.  I slipped my shirt off
before I hung up my suit so he could have a good long look at me
near-naked. I could feel his eyes following me as I crossed and re-crossed
the room.  Finally I stood by the bed in my white underpants.  His eyes
were gleaming, Gus: I could see the excitement in them.  And his little
cock was again making a tent in those too-tight shorts.  I lay beside him
and took him in my arms.  Our second kiss was long and lingering, and I
felt his tongue slide into my mouth.  His little hands were stroking the
hair on my back and he was squirming to rub his body against mine.  I swear
I could feel his heart beating with passion!

  
...........................................................................
.....................................................
CRAIG:
When Jeremy had showed me Uncle Guy's "love nest" I had guessed, hoped
even, that he would take me in there and introduce me to real loving.  As
he held my hand and led me across the Director's Box the room was silent,
and I could feel many eyes devouring me unseen behind me, watching my arse
and bare legs.  I knew I was pretty and desirable, but even the ones
kissing and fondling had stopped to watch, and I knew they envied Guy in
that moment.  Later I would understand that most men, all men perhaps, have
a greater interest in a new lover, an unfamiliar body, an excitement that
will always outweigh more familiar pleasures.  They were all calculating
how long it would be before they too would be enjoying this new recruit. 
All married I guessed (except Uncle Guy) and all lusting after a

boy-bottom!

   Uncle Guy was going to get a real virgin, a boy who had nver been
penetrated, mouth or anus, who had never sucked, been sucked, fucked or
been fucked.  But I had lain awake at night in my solitary bed imagining
what it would be like to feel a mouth round my cock, hands on my body.  I
used to lay over a pillow and hump it, imagining I was fucking a handsome
young man.  Recently I had to stop that as I was producing too much cum
now, and making a mess of the pillowcase.  So I usually lay on my back
jerking my little penis until it spurted over my belly and chest.  I would
clean up by dabbling my fingers in the cum and licking them clean.  I liked
the taste and feel of cum already, but was innocent of any except my own
thin stuff.

   As he shut the door behind us I could feel my heart beating so loud I
was sure he would hear it too.  This was partly excitement, but there was a
degree of trepidation too.  I knew I was gay, my nightly dreams were all of
men and naked boys.  But suppose I did not like it?  Suppose he was rough
with me?  Yes!  there was a degree of fear in me as I lay down on the bed
where he pointed me.  He undressed slowly, and I watched him kick his shoes
off and stuff his socks one in each shoe.  He hung his jacket up carefully
in the mahoganny wardrobe, and my heart beat even stronger as he undid his
tie, the shirt buttons, and lay the white shirt across a chair.  I knew he
was hairy from his hands, and my quick caress when the team scored, but I
was not prepared for this magnificent masculinity.  The hair was thick and
black, and covered even his shoulders.  Hard little nipples just about
poked through.  My cock had been hard for hours it seemed, but it twitched
and stiffened still more.  I wanted to hold it, to rub it as I watched my
adult lover strip, but I dared not!  I had long lusted after the
bare-chested twinks in the one or two magazines I'd managed to find (steal
in fact from a market stall!), but here was the real thing, masculine,
god-like, the build of a warrior!

   He dropped his trousers, and turned his back to me as he folded and hung
them up.  He even had black hair down his back.  His white underpants were
tight across a muscular and very masculine arse.  How I longed to caress
him, feel the strength in those muscles.  He turned, and I could see the
shape of an erect penis bulging under his immaculate white briefs.  I could
see the shaft and the knob, so clear.  He knew I was watching, and was
laughing as he approached the bed.

   'Like what you see, Rodney?' He lay beside me, and while I mumbled that
I did indeed like it, he took me in his arms and kissed me.  I could feel
his cock hard against my legs, and knew mine was pressing into his torso.

   'Let's see, then.'

   But it was only my shirt for the moment.  He pulled it up over my head,
and embraced me again.  His hairy chest did not tickle, I found, but was
incredibly sexy against my own boyish and hairless chest.  His tongue
forced mine from his mouth and invaded mine.  I let him lick round my
palate and gums before entering his mouth again.  I realised I was
caressing and stroking his shoulders and back, just as he was squeezing and
stroking my flesh.

   He took my hand and placed it over his cock.  Oh!  How I had wanted
this! I could feel it firm, nearly too big for my grip under the cotton.

   'That's nice, Uncle Guy'.

   'Well put your hand inside and feel it properly then, Rodney.'

   My first male cock!  I had one hand outside his underpants, cradling his
balls, the other down inside the waistband, gripping that oh-so-desired
icon.  It felt hot and silky on the outside, and so steely strong within. I
caressed it, ran my open grip down the shaft.  The hair felt thick and
matted.  I was sure my own cock was twitching and leaking pre-cum.  I
cupped his knob under my palm and felt that oozing precum too.  I took my
hand out his pants and looked at the palm.  It was wet.  I looked him full
in the eyes and licked my palm, flirting with his shamelessly.  He looked
happy, smiling, his eyes laughing as he slipped his hand into my shorts and
felt me as I had felt him.  We fondled each other as we embraced, and I
felt his lips on my hairless nipple.  I squeaked as he nibbled it.  It
hurt, but it felt good.

   'No, don't stop!' And he was licking round one nipple and then the
other. Taking them between his lips and pulling at them.  They seemed to be
joined to my cock by an invisible cord.  I wanted his too.  I pushed him
away a minute and pressed my lips to his chest.  The tiny nail-heads of his
nipples were almost hidden in the black curly hair, but I found one and
kissed, sucked on it.  He groaned, and his hand tightened round my cock. 
'Let me see, please, Uncle Guy.  I want to look at it.'

   He knew exactly what I wanted, and raised his hips to slide his
underpoants down and off.  His cock stood, arrogant and masculine.  I
thought it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, that flat, hairy belly,
and the stiff, straight cock with its pink knob.  It was not like mine
(Uncle Guy was circumcised), but I thought it so desirable, and so big and
bold.  (In fact at about six inches he was not very big, as I later found
out!  Good thing too, given what was soon to happen to me!)

   'Like what you see?'

   I nodded, and reached for it again.  I touched the tip, and transferred
the clear drop there to my own lips.

   'Well let's see yours then.' His strong hands were pulling my black silk
shorts down, and my cock sprang clear, hard, as it had been for the last
two hours at least.  I was probably about four inches then, and still quite
thin.  But I could see he loved it as he took it between his finger and
thumb, and then to my astonishment, he was over me, and my whole prick was
in his mouth.

   The pleasure was overwhelming, and I heard myself groaning.  Warm, wet,
and sucking, tongue fluttering over the sensitive place, there just under
my knob, at the front.  He was tickling my balls with one hand, and the
other was under my arse, his fingers resting in my arse-crease.  I realised
why the boys all showered before the match!  His head bobbed up and down
once, twice, and I held it between my hands.  In that moment I loved him.
it was lust, but more.  I was close to coming, when he suddenly stopped.

   'Don't want you to cum.  Not yet.  We've lots more to do Rodney.'

   'Can I.....?  Please, Uncle Guy.'

   'Can you what, Rodney?'

   'I'd like to....' I had his cock in my hand again.

   'Like to what?'

   'I'd like to.....  I'd like to suck you too.'

   'Of course you would Rodney.' And he was kneeling over my chest, but his
weight on his knees, not on me.  His huge, hairy balls nearly touched my
chin, and his cock lay across my face.  It was still dripping clear fluid.
I held his balls in one hand, feeling their weight, and with my other hand
directed his knob to my lips.  I licked the precum from the eye of it, and
then put the whole of his knob in my mouth.  It stretched my jaw, but not
uncomfortably.  It was his turn to groan, and hold my face between his two
palms.  I managed to get another two inches in my mouth, running it
sideways across my jaw.  But, holding my head, he straightened his prick in
my mouth so it slipped to the back of my throat.  I gagged a moment, but
then he was pulling back again.  I remembered how good it had been to feel
his tongue on me, so I licked the front of his prick as he withdrew.  Then
he was pushing in again.  I realised he was fucking my mouth, just as I'd
seen the Physio, Mustapha, shagging Jamie's arse.  I surrendered myself to
his pleasure, grasping his hips as he mouth-fucked me.  I found I was not
gagging now.  I could taste precum, and loved it.

   Then he withdrew.  I licked his balls as his cock reared up over my
face. 'And I don't want to cum yet either.  I'd like you like this now,
Rodney.'

   He turned me over on my belly, with a black satin pillow under me.  One
of my legs was straight, but he bent the other one.  I felt his strong
hands part my arse cheeks, and then the bristles of his cheeks between the
soft skin of my buttocks.  What was next was incredibly sexy as his pointed
tongue licked round and round my arsehole, and finally penetrated.  I
giggled, and wriggled my hips in pleasure.  The point of his tongue slipped
in and out like a tiny prick.  The sensation was delicious.

   'Have you ever been fucked in the arse, Rodney?'

   'That's the second time today I've been asked, and the answer is still
no.  No, I haven't.  But Jeremy put his fingers in me in the shower.'

   'Like this?'

   I felt the lube squirt between my cheeks, and his finger enter me.

   'Yes, just like that, only he used soap.'

   'This is better?'

   'Oh yes!  That's nice.  I think I'd like.....'

   'I'm sure you will.  But I want to loosen you first.'

  
...........................................................................
..................................
GUY:
'You know, Gus, it's a hell of a responsibility taking a boy's

virginity.'

   'The law agrees with you on that, Guy!'

   'Not something to joke about, Gus.  Lord!  I shudder to think.'

   'Amazing you've got away with it for so long, Guy.  I mean it only takes
one of your boys to change his mind over the years, be Born Again or
something.'

   'Unlikely.  I picked them carefully.  Still do.  I look for boys who are
really gay, who give you the little signs even when they are just teens. 
You can tell by the way they look at you, and by the way they move. 
There's something flirtatious, a sort of "come-on and get me" in their
whole demeanour.  No, you can't miss it when a boy really wants it.  And
those boys almost certainly will be grateful looking back.  Also, what with
most of the local politicians, Church, Police, businessmen, and anyone with
influence enjoying their occasional match day gay-fun, it would be
difficult to find anyone to listen to a complaint.  And think about the
quality of my defence witnesses if there ever were a case.  No, it's not
really surprising that we have run a stable of willing and handsome boys
all these years without any hint of trouble.  No, when I said I feel a
great responsibility when giving a lad his first fuck in the arse, it's
because it would be tragic if that put him off buggery (I so like the old
word, Gus), if it put him off buggery all together.  Think what he'd be
losing.'

   'I know, Guy.Why not fuck me while you finish your tale?'

   'OK.  There.  I'll fuck you slow while you enjoy the story.  I held his
hand as I walked him to my inner sanctum, and had him lay on the bed while
I stripped.  I could feel his eyes on me as I took off my shirt, and knew
he was liking what he saw.  That inviting little tent in his black silk
club shorts had returned.  Anyway, I took it slowly and kissed and caressed
him a lot before I so much as touched his cock.  He was an enthusiastic
kisser, and not frightened to slip his tongue into my mouth.He was feeling
my shoulder muscles, and especially combing his fingers though my shoulder
and chest hair.  A sexy little lad, I bet you, and my cock was straining,
demanding.  But still I took my time, having him take his shirt off first.
His bare, tanned chest was so beautiful I had to lick and suck his hard,
brown nipples, so boyish and tiny.Then I had him feel my cock through my
underpants: I had kept them on so far, but his eyes kept returning to the
bulge there, just as urgent as his own but twice the size of course.  Then,
as I had him slip his hand inside my briefs, I felt his cock through the
silk shorts, feeling it small as springy between my thumb and forefinger. I
asked him if he wanted to see, and he was eager so I had him pull my shorts
down and he lay there looking at my cock and feeling his own, though still
through the club shorts.
'You must be enjoying the story, Gus.  Normally by now you're moaning

and groaning.  Or am I fucking you too long and slow?'

   'Don't stop, Guy.  That's just perfect.  And you're teasing me.  tell me
what his cock looked like.'

   'You're right, Gus.  I told him as he'd seen mine, I should see his, and
he, flirting like a little girl with a new lover, slowly pulled his shorts
down for me.  His cock was small then, of course.  Three or four inches I
should think, a nice mouthful, but no good for this, eh Gus?' But he had a
blonde-boy's balls, by which I mean they had only the lightest of golden
fuzz, and his white shaft was completely hairless.  He isn't cut, by the
way, and has the prettiest foreskin when he's not hard.  But, hard now, it
was clear of a pink, shiny knob.  Beautiful.

   ''Don't stop!'

   'So there we were on the bed, naked and hairy, naked and smooth,
interlaced, cock against cock, kissing and caressing anywhere we could
reach with hands or lips.  He was wriggling and writhing under me, and I
pulled him on top of me.  I slipped my hand between us and held that lovely
little prick.  I felt his hand on mine.  He had decided to do to me what I
did to him!  Time for more sensations then!  I rolled him back onto the bed
and licked his nipples again, but this time allowed my tongue to stray down
to his navel, licking in a circle round it, and pushing with the tip of my
tongue.  He giggled and told me that felt good.  Now licking down over his
slightly rounded belly, half tanned, half brilliant white, and down to the
tiny triangle of golden fuzz.  I licked his balls, and without warning slid
the whole of his cock into my mouth.  He groaned, and his hips rose to
drive it further in.  I sucked, licked, all the while caressing his bare
balls, stroking his thighs, holding his hips.  I could feel he was about to
cum!

   'Now, that was tempting.  Perhaps he would have cum: he might well be
developed enough.  And boy-cum is such a treat.  But that was not the plan
so I stopped, telling him he should not come yet.  You would scarcely
believe what happened yet.  He asked if he could suck me!  I leave you to
guess my answer, Gus!'

   'So there he was licking my nipples, licking my belly button, licking my
balls, and finally taking my knob in his mouth and sucking just as I had
sucked him.  He couldn't get it all in, of course, but he certainly tried.
I could have come so easily, and I had to make him stop.'

   'I think we lay there kissing again, and then I started to open him up
with my fingers.  What a moment that is, Gus!  The naked virgin boy laying
his belly on a pillow, his legs spread.  You place a hand on each buttock
cheek, so white and smooth-silky, and part them.  There is the secret rose,
pink and puckered.  A tongue.  A giggle from the boy.  Tongue penetration.
His hips rising to enable deeper tonguing.  God!  How I love that.  The
question, and the agreement.  Lube in his crease, a probing finger to the
first knuckle.  Kiss to shut his mouth while the finger goes deeper.  The
magic spot found, and a squeak, through the kiss, the reward. 
Finger-fucking with the index finger.  Now with two fingers, index and
ring-finger, so aptly named.  Then the placing of the knob and the first
shove, the first inch won, the virginity taken!

   'He screamed.  But I told him the usual, true things.  That it would not
last, that he would come to love it and want it all the time, that all men
came to love it if they stayed with it, that he would later seek out bigger
and bigger cocks to fuck him.  And all the time I slid my cock deeper into
him, pulling back half an inch and sliding in an inch: out and in till my
thighs met his buttocks.  Then the slow withdrawal, and the long, deep,
slow thrust.  He had his face buried in the pillow and was biting in, in
the classical way!  Finally he had relaxed, and I felt myself slipping
easier in and out, and he told me he was ok now.  I hauled him up to a
fully kneeling position (I'd had him on his belly, one leg bent to start
with), and started to fuck him more as you would expect, Gus.  I felt
beneath him and was pleased to find his cock still hard.  Should I make him
cum, or should I give myself the later pleasure of his little cock spurting
boy-cum into my mouth.  That's what I mean by responsibility, Gus.  If he
came at the moment I filled his arse with its first spunk, that would be a
good experience for him, and start the process of learning to really enjoy
being fucked.  So I wanked him holding myself back till I felt the thin,
silky cum on my fingers, and at that moment let myself cum deep in his
arse.

   I let him see me lick my fingers clean of his cum afterwards,.  and told
him next time I wanted him to cum in my mouth, especially as he had such
good cum.'

   That was the moment Jamie and Winston came in.

   'I never had Winston, Guy.'

   'Well you missed a treat .  Wonderful body, great cock, but he left the
club at the end of that season, which is how you missed him.  Now I'm going
to fuck you hard and fast, Gus.  You ready?

  
...........................................................................
....................................................
CRAIG:
Uncle Guy was really gentle with me, carefully relaxing my anus by
finger fucking me, while keeping me calm and relaxed by kissing and
whispering in my ear.  I had a mixture of excitement and fear.  I wanted
him, wanted him to make me fully his, but was scared it would hurt.  And it
did hurt.  As his knob slipped in, almost effortlessly it seemed, the pain
was sharp.  I screamed as if stabbed.  But he did not stop and pushed
deeper and deeper till he was right in me, his thighs heavy on my bottom. I
could feel the hairs tickling my smooth skin, and his strong hands gripping
my hips.  The pain was still there, but less sharp.  I bit the pillow as he
whispered again in my ear, that I would learn to like it above everything
else.  And gradually the pain was replaced, not exactly by pleasure, but it
was ok.  And then he wanked me till I came, and at the same moment I knew
he had filled my arse with his cum.  I was so proud, and I guess pleased it
was over.  I was happy to have given him pleasure, and I had come too
despite having my arse filled with cock.  It had not been too bad really, I

supposed!

   But at that exact moment Jamie, the striker, and Winston, the
centre-back, came in.  Uncle Guy had to go and shake hands with the
visiting team Chairman and Coach, so he dressed quickly in a track suit and
left the three of us together.

   They stood by the bed.  Jamie was quite hairy and his cock stuck out
nearly horizontal, as if pointing at me.  He is not one of the real
heavyweight strikers: small and fast is more his style.  But stripped off,
you could see despite his stature he was an athlete, with broad shoulders
and good muscles on his arms and legs.  His arse was lovely, I thought, so
small and muscular.  But Winston was something else.  He looked massive in
his strip, but naked he was a giant.  I knew he had a completely smooth
chest from when he had scored one of his rare goals.  To celebrate he had
taken his shirt off: got a yellow card for that.  Close up, I decided there
was something to be said for a hairless chest after all, especially if the
skin was brown and silky-smooth, and the muscles large and defined.  Also
he was wearing a bright white jock-strap.  My eyes could hardly leave those
brilliant white straps against his dark skin, and most of all the gigantic
bulge in the pouch at the front.  I stared transfixed by the cock and the
bulge a couple of feet from me, like that rabbit with the ferret.

   They stood silent, looking at me.  I felt my cock hardening again
despite the big orgasm I had just enjoyed with Uncle Guy.  I just had to! I
rolled to the edge of the great bed, and lay on my belly, reaching out for
them, a naked cock in one hand and the fascinating feel of a cock under
cotton in the other.

   Winston put a thumb under each side of his jock-strap's waistband and
pulled it downwards, my hand travelling with it to brush his thigh.  A very
big cock sprang from the elastic top.  a black, straight shaft with a great
purple-red knob.  I let go Jamie's cock without thinking and held this new
wonder in both hands, gripping the shaft and cradling his balls.  It looked
all the bigger as he had removed his body hair here, too.  His balls and
belly were as silky smooth as his cock.  I saw Jamie lick his lips as both
looked at me.  They had that hard look in their eyes.  Hard, lusting cocks
and hard lusting eyes.  And I was stiff too!

   Winston said something to Jamie, I forget what I was so obsessed by
their masculinity.  They laughed, and then I was laying in the middle of
the bed between them.  That was one of the moments of my life!  Imagine
when you were thirteen being crushed between two hard, muscular bodies,
four hands wandering over your body, fondling, stroking, caressing.  And
those two hard cocks pressing against you, one against your bottom, the
other against your own cock.  My face was crushed into Winston's chest.  As
I felt Jamie kissing and licking my shoulders, neck and back, I licked and
sucked one of Winston's hard, black nipples.

   Jamie had managed to get his cock up against my anus, and again I felt
that pleasure of pressure from his knob there, and the anticipation of
further excitement, if not pleasure, with the penetration.

   Winston moved, turned round, and his cock was against my face.  I could
smell the scent of rampant male from his balls.  My own cock was almost
painfully stiff..

   I felt fingers in my arse crease, slippery with lube and Uncle Guy's
cum. Not long now.  That pressure again, and the pain as Jamie's knob slid
into me.  I squealed.  No pillow to bite!  Winston's knob stifled my
scream, and the pain was forgotten as he slipped the full length into my
warm, wet, and above all eager mouth, and pleasure welled through my body.
The cock slid right up me, hardly any pain now, and I could feel Jamie's
body hair against my smooth bottom .  Winston had his full length in my
mouth, and I could feel his balls pressing into my face.  I managed to keep
the full length of that broad cock in my mouth by sliding it sideways into
my cheek.  Jamie was deep in me, and I could feel his thighs against mine.
Their hands wandered over my body, feeling, stroking, caressing.  They were
deliberately crushing me between them, possessing me completely.

   Winston seemed content to leave his cock still in my mouth, relying on
my tongue flickering up and down it, and the suction of my cheeks to
stimulate him.  But still Jamie certainly was not!  He was fucking me now
with long, slow, deliberate thrusts.  The withdrawal each time was almost
as exciting as the deep push, and I was beginning to understand why men
liked being fucked in the arse.  This was good.  Somewhere deep inside me
was a place each thrust found out, each contact making my cock twitch.  I
felt I could cum without any further stimulus.  But now Winston started to
fuck my mouth.  I had one hand on each of his muscular shoulders, I recall,
stroking and kneading the only flesh I could easily reach.

   Jamie fucked me faster, harder, and, pain all gone, I was moving my head
in rhythm with Winston's thrusts into my mouth.  I realised Jamie was about
to cum.  His panting and groaning increased with the speed and power of his
cock in me.  I felt close to coming.  Then, sudden, my mouth filled with
Winston's cum.  I swallowed desperately, but still some escaped to dribble
down my chin.  I think Jamie saw this, and I knew he was coming in me, deep
in my arse: I could not feel the rush of his cum up there, but his oaths,
and the easier movement of his cock, swimming in that hot, slippery cum,
told me.

   Winston pulled his cock from my mouth, and in a moment my cock was in
his mouth.  Probably Jamie was still spurting inside me as I came in
Winston's mouth.  He swallowed my meagre boyish-cum.

   Later, the three of us propped against the bed-head, Jamie and I shared
a cigarette.  Winston did not smoke...or at any rate not tobacco.

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

   DAZZA

   Sunday our Colts got well and truly stuffed, losing five nil.  But we
weren't really surprised as that lot always beat us: we are an ordinary
school, but for one fixture each year we have to play Hatshorne Institute,
which is a special school for kids who have been in trouble with the law.
They bend the rules about age qualification, and added to that some of
their team are right hooligans.  However Rodney and I both escaped with
nothing worse than a few bruises and skinned shins.  We showered with the
rest of the team, and I enjoyed looking at him, and caught him looking at
me.  We both had hard-ons, and that amused the other boys, as usual, but
the banter was good-hearted as both of us were still closet gays.  Just two
lads with hard cocks, nothing more.  Happens!

   Rodney had his bike with him, but I had walked as the field is only a
mile or so from my home.  He pushed his bike as we walked.

   'I didn't see you after the match yesterday.  Did you do well?'

   'I stayed on a long time with Winston and Jamie.'

   'Lucky you!  But I meant did you earn a lot?'

   'There was the fiver in an envelope in my locker, but twenty five as
well.'

   'That answers my next question.  You've been fucked in the arse.'

   'Yup!  But how do you know.'

   'I can read minds.  No, really it's easy.  Once in the mouth for a
fiver, and twice in the arse for two tenners.  That's the going rate.'

   'Must be, though I didn't know who had paid.  It must have been Uncle
Guy and Jamie ten each and Winston five.'

   'You wait till you have Winston, you'll know you've been fucked then. 
Was it good?'

   'OK.  It was getting better.  How much did you get?'

   'Forty five.  We'll see if it still gets even better in a minute or two.
That's my place at the end there.'

   'Forty five.  Four fucks in the arse?'

   'Nearly right, but Pat Sankey is a bit different!'

   My Mum and Dad were already out, and we went to get a couple of Dad's
beers and sat in our living room.

   'You got some wank books, Dazza?'

   'Better than that.  Pat Sankey has lent me some videos.  I managed to
look at one of them so far, and it's pretty hot.' I lifted the tv up and
there in the hollow of the table was where I used to hide my porn tapes.  I
read the title.  'Stiff Teen Cock'.  You'll see plenty of that, and more.
Cigarette?  They're my Dad's like the beer.'

   We sat on the sofa smoking, watching the white boy in a baseball cap
pick up a black lad in a funfair somewhere in France.  I fast forwarded the
tape till they were in the guy's hotel room, stripping off.

   'I could fancy that black boy.  Never had one yet.'

   'I've never had a boy, even, white or black.  But I can see you fancy
him.'

   'That's not the tape.  I've been hard since I saw you in the showers,
Rodney.'

   'Me too!'

   I had one arm round Rodney's shoulder.  I stubbed out my cigarette and
stroked his erection through the blue denim.  The boys in the tape were
sucking each other now, the white lad on top.  Rodney stretched his legs
out, and I unzipped him, slipping my hand inside his flies and feeling his
cock through the cotton of his underpants.  He reached over, stubbed out
his cigarette, unzipped me, and his hand was on my prick too.  I pulled him
round and against me and we kissed straining against each other.  I had my
mouth wide open, almost round his lips, and he stuck his tongue in, licking
round inside.  My turn now and I forced my tongue into his mouth.  He was
writhing against me, and really up for it.

   I felt his hands up under my shirt, stroking my chest and then fingering
my nipples.  I returned the favour, and he gave a little squeak as I rolled
a nipple between my finger and thumb, but he clearly liked it as we were
hugging each other even tighter.

   'Let's get naked!'

   Apart from thirty seconds in the clubhouse showers this was the first
chance I had had to get my hands on him: I had been thinking about him all
night, and it had taken all my self-control not to wank off so I could get
some sleep.  As you may guess we were naked in seconds and taking up where
we had left off the day before.

   'Are you going to fuck me?'

   'I never fucked anyone before.'

   'I know.  Want to?'

   'Sure.'

   I knelt on the carpet for him, with my chest and face on the sofa.  I
could feel him parting my cheeks and then the touch of his smooth cheeks
against my thighs and his tongue in my anus.

   'I put some lube by the telly.  It's the sort in a tube.'

   The feel of too-cold lube squirted between my cheeks, and then a finger
working it in.  There was not much foreplay, but that did not matter: I've
been fucked so often and by much bigger than a teenage boy that my arse is
always ready to take a cock!  The weight of his knob against my anus, and
then a slow push as it penetrates, deeper and deeper till his thighs rest
against my cheeks.  I feel his hands caressing my bottom cheeks, and then
the slow pull-out as far as the knob, and insertion again.

   'It's lovely, Dazza.  You're so warm and tight in there, and it slips so
easily.'

   'Fuck me faster, Rodney.  I like it as hard as you can do it.  Bash it
in!'

   'I'm frightened I'll come!'

   'Well make sure I can feel it.  That's right.  Just like that.'

   He was using short, stabbing thrusts.  His hands grasped my buttocks,
and sometimes he slapped me.  Then I felt his lips on the centre of my back
and he was going at me even harder.  I knew he was coming.  Too soon for
me, but it was his first fuck after all, so I forgave him.

   CRAIG.  As I emptied my cum into him, my first fuck, I knew I had found
what I most wanted in life: this was better even than sucking!  I was
motionless, feeling his arse around my cock, and kissing him on his
shoulders and neck until his arse contracted and my cock slipped out: it
was clean and not shitty as I thought it might be.  I wiped us both with my
underpants.

   'I never knew it could be so good.'

   'It is isn't it?  I'll wind that tape back.  I want to see the white boy
getting fucked.  Did I say I never had a black guy?'

   'Mm.  Not many round here I guess.'

   He sat beside me again on the sofa.  He was still hard, but I was soft
now.

   'Well there is Arvinda Patel.  He's got a lovely silky skin and likes it
up him.  And he's nearly black.  But his arse and cock are lighter brown
than his face.'

   'He's in my class!'

   'And John Woo's got a smashing smooth bod too.  But he doesn't fuck. 
Just likes to suck and be sucked.'

   'You've had both of them?'

   'And they've had me.'

   'Are there lots of boys who like it, then?'

   'A few.  Jeremy of course, and if you like big guys there's Jack
Hasketon.'

   'I don't believe it!' Jack Hasketon was captain of the first team, and a
big, muscular, hairy guy in the Upper sixth.

   'He likes to be fucked.  And there's Jerry Wright, Jocelyn Havers, Billy
Sudland, Jack Holland....  oh stacks of them.'

   'You sure?'

   'Shit!  I've had all those and they've had me.  And a few others too. 
You just have to ask them.  I tell you they'll all want you.  You're very
good looking.'

   'I'll start with Jocelyn: he looks sexy.'

   'You'll start with me, Rodney.  Lay on the carpet and put this cushion
under your arse.

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

   DAZZA.  Of course most of my sex in those days was with adult men, the
athletes of the football team and the Civic Leaders of our small community
who treated the football club as a sort of brothel, I'm glad to say.  And
it is true that I enjoyed those muscular and hairy bodies, proud of the
passions my own more slender frame aroused in them, and happy to receive
their cocks and their spunk wherever it suited them to deposit it.  But
even then my real passion was for the slim and smooth bodies of much
younger males: later in life I would travel the world looking for the
special delights a fourteen year old boy can offer.  Back then, of course,
I had a whole group of lads in the school, most of them seduced by myself,
but some of them seducers of me.  And Rodney Witherspoon, now Craig
Campbell, was the prettiest, most desirable of the lot!  And here he was
laying on the floor in front of me, on his belly, his arse lifted just
enough by one of the cushions off our sofa, one leg crooked for his comfort
and my easy access.  My cock was straining upwards, as hard as it could
ever be except in the moment of spurting, and precum dripped clear from its
eye.  How I loved these boyfriends of mine, with their hairless bellies and
chests, that pretty little triangle of golden or dark hair at the root of
hairless and usually hard little cocks, and as they knelt for me the smooth
arse and the hairless balls hanging in their tight, smooth, hairless sack.
I'm erect as I write this!

   I lay on top of him, my cock resting along the crease of his bottom, and
was licking the back of his neck, where his golden hair was so fine.  I
stroked his thighs where I could reach them, and kissed his neck, on the
side.  He turned his head to me and we kissed mouth to mouth, awkwardly but
with great passion, our tongues fighting for possession of the other's
mouth.

   'Plenty of lube, please, Dazza.'

   'You want it now?'

   'Please...'

   We had missed yet again the bit where the black boy fucked his white
pick-up, and the screen was blank when I reached for the lube.  It is a
wonderful moment when you part the arse cheeks of a willing teen, so smooth
and firm without yet being muscular, and reveal his puckered anus.  His
back as he lay there was flawless and had been tanned a deep bronze that
long summer: he must have worn speedos a lot because the white triangle of
his buttocks was tiny, and clearly defined.  I squirted some lube onto his
pink-brown rose, and spread it with my index finger, which I slipped into
him.  I did not intend to finger fuck him much, but after all he had been a
virgin only a few hours before, had only ever had two cocks in his bottom,
and needed to be treated with care.  And despite my eagerness (he was the
most delightful boy I ever had, and in any case I'm always especially eager
the first time I have a particular boy), despite the urgency of my weeping
cock, I finger fucked him for a few minutes making sure I was massaging his
prostate.  (I did not know its name then...but certainly knew its effect.
Oh yes!)

   My weight on my knees I wiped my cock between his arse cheeks and then
rested it on his anus, my knob glistening now with the oil it had picked up
there.  He flinched as I slipped my knob into him and I wondered for a
second if he was truly up for it as his arse contracted on me, gripping my
knob powerfully.  But the spasm passed, and my cock was slipping easily up
into him, until my balls touched his arse and my full weight was on him. 
He spasmed again, but again it passed, and he moaned as I pulled out as far
as my knob.  In again, and I was fucking him with long, slow sweeps, my
full weight crushing him into that cushion.I kissed his back, ruffled his
hair, stroked and fondled his hips and thighs.  His skin was so silky
smooth, and the flesh so warm and firm.  My excitement was increasing and I
was going at him harder now, but there were no protests, just little
panting squeaks with each thrust, and moans of pleasure with each
withdrawal.  I allowed myself to slip out entirely sometimes, and was
rewarded with a louder squeak from him as my knob forced its way in again.

   I had a sudden thought ...'This is only his third fuck' ...  and that
was too much for me.  I was coming, spurting hot, deep inside him.

   I pulled him over sideways so we lay 'spoons', and after a few moments
his arse expelled me.

   We cleaned up at the kitchen sink and dried ourselves on the tea-towel
that hung there.

   'I still haven't seen that tape, the bit where the white boy gets
fucked. Let's lie down on the floor again and watch it.'

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

   CRAIG.  The fuck had been great, and towards the end I could feel myself
getting hard again, and I suppose I might have come into the cushion if
Dazza hadn't come first in me.

   Laying on the carpet later he was watching the porn video, but I was
mostly looking at him.  I had listened to what he had said about how good
sex with boys was, and I certainly meant to have all the ones he had
mentioned as soon as I could arrange it, but although he was very sexy with
his slender, smooth body, I thought the muscular and hairy athletes at the
Club were even sexier.  This was Ok, and his cock, hard again from watching
the porn, was well worth sucking, but nowhere near as exciting as Winston's
black monster had been.  Nonetheless I reached out and felt it, closing my
fist around the shaft, so its pink head peeped out between my thumb and
forefinger.

   I lay my cheek against his thigh, there where the skin was softest and
most silky: his balls were inches from my face and I licked them, tight in
their hairless sack, with the tip of my tongue.  I thought to myself how
fortunate I had been to find Dazza to teach me these pleasures.  He seemed
so assured, so confident in his sexuality and made it seem so right and
natural when we made love together, and yet he was only a few months older
than me, just fourteen, and could only have been sucking cocks and fucking
arses for months at the most, surely?  I still had my fist around his cock,
and I released it so I could look at it properly.  It was so handsome, a
sturdy shaft, still hairless, and that pretty pink helmet.  This it was
that had just given me so much pleasure that I had been within moments of
coming into that cushion.  A drop of clear liquid appeared in its eye and I
kissed it, transferring the pre-cum to my lips.  There was no taste.  Dazza
was holding my cock and stroking my arse, both of us watching the video as
it reached towards its climax, the white boy panting out his pleasure while
the black boy ploughed him.  I ran my fingers through the tiny triangle of
fine golden curls at the base of Dazza's cock, and felt a great tenderness
for him, almost love.  In that moment I learned what I have always known
since.  If men were for sex, boys were for loving.

   With this profound thought, I closed my lips round his lovely knob.  He
groaned and I felt his lips round my knob.  I slipped his full length into
my mouth, and gagged a moment as it touched my throat, but I got the angle
right and was able to take his full length as he shagged me in my mouth.  I
wanted his cum, but wanted this to last too.  I was fucking his mouth, and
we got a lovely rhythm going together.  I had one hand holding the root of
his cock, but the other was around him, sliding the side of my hand into
his arse crease, the side of my little finger against his anus, my palm
holding the flesh of his buttock.  I felt his arse-cheeks clench, gripping
my hand between them, and knew he was about to come.  The stream into my
mouth was hot and sudden, silky and smooth and slightly salty: I swallowed
and was ready for the next spurt, and then the next.  I have always found
that cum in my mouth makes me cum too, and my orgasm exploded into his
mouth, the strongest and longest of my young life to date.

   We never talked about our love.  Boys don't much.  But as we lay on the
carpet in the glow of our satisfaction, I think our silent caresses spoke
to both of us.

   .......................................................  CRAIG The next
home match I watched with a local farmer, Sir Harmsworth Holbein.  I call
him a farmer because with his massive frame and heavy tweed suit he looked
like a farmer: in fact he was a landowner and had others do the actual
farming!  Anyway, I was enjoying sitting in the deep armchair with him and
looking forward to pleasures to come.  He was keen on the football, and
apart from the occasional feel up my shorts, reciprocated by me with a feel
of his cock, massive under the hairy cloth, we concentrated on the game.  I
was a bit disappointed when exactly twenty minutes into the second half,
our team two goals up, Jeremy came over and told us I was to go with him
and prepare the team baths.

   It took that long to fill the large, square team bath with warm water to
about three feet.  While the two taps ran Jeremy and I piled white towels
in two tidy heaps.  When the water was the right depth, Jeremy tested it
for temperature by laying on the edge and dipping his arm in: he decided it
needed a bit more hot and opened that tap before tipping in a bottle of
bath-foam.

   'That will bubble up when they get in.'

   He had got his shorts wet in testing the water and they clung to him,
clearly showing me the shape of his half hard cock.  I couldn't resist a
quick grope, and we were kissing and hugging each other when the team
erupted into the room.  Catching us like this only added to their good
humour as they threw boots into a heap in the corner and stripped off their
wet and muddy kit.  It had been raining off and on all afternoon and they
could not wait to get into the bath: most leapt in with great splashes. 
Jeremy and I watched as these fine athletes stood waist deep in the water
and soaped themselves down, in several cases soaping each other.  We had
won three nil apparently, and the men were still excited, enjoying the
occasion with jokes and bursts of laughter, slapping and pushing each other
sometimes.  The Coach came in and told them how well they had done,
continually interrupted by ribald comments whenever he mentioned a player
by name.  He finished his little speech, and was still watching when a hand
snaked out and grabbed my ankle, tipping me over into the bath with a great
splash.  I came up spluttering, to see the Coach laughing and making his
way out: he would leave the lads to their fun.  Jeremy leaped in as well.

   I found I had been grabbed from behind and was pulled back onto a
muscular, hairy body: it was Paolo Santos and I could feel his hard cock
pushing up against my wet shorts.  It occurred to me that it would have
slid right up me were it not for that gossamer-thin barrier between my
arsehole and his weapon.  The team, or at least the half of it grouped
around me, all wanting a piece of their pleasure-toy for the afternoon. 
Hands groped my body, feeling for my cock and balls though my shorts,
caressing my bottom, sliding up under my shirt and tweaking my nipples.  I
was drowning in pleasure, and found a hard cock to grasp hidden under the
bubble-bath and a hairy arse to feel with the other hand.  Jack Parry
kissed me on my lips, forcing his tongue into my not-unwilling mouth.

   Then Paolo Santos lifted me clear of the water and rough hands pulled my
shirt up over my head and at the same time pulled my shorts down.  My
little-boy cock was standing, and in fact had been hard since I had kissed
Jeremy.  I could feel the stubble on his upper lip as he kissed me, and
then the much greater pleasure of a mouth around my cock.  It was Jamie
again, and he swallowed my cock till I could feel his stubble sharp against
my belly.  The other guys laughed at him, and someone kicked his legs out
from under him tipping him into the water again and making him let go of my
cock.  Paolo threw me lightly into the air, and I too fell into the water,
bottom first with a great splash.  When I came up, laughing and gasping for
air I saw Jeremy as well, with a group of players round him, enjoying the
preliminaries of sex, with a lot of fondling, caressing, kissing and
general horseplay.

   Paolo was sitting on the edge of the bath now, his cock standing up from
masses of black hair, wet and flattened by the bath water.  I found his
Italian accent very sexy.

   'You name Rodney?  Suck on this Rodney.'

   Helpful, strong arms lifted me so I rested between hairy, muscular
thighs.  Paolo was uncut, and I pulled the foreskin up so it completely
covered the head, and then closed my lips around it.  He groaned, and his
thighs lifted very slightly: I heard laughter behind me, but took no notice
in the excitement of a new and so-masculine cock to suck.  I steadied
myself with one arm around him, feeling buttocks that must have been nearly
as hairy as his chest and belly: with the other hand I held the root of his
cock, which was a bit too long for my teenage mouth.  Apart from the strong
arms holding me in position to bob up and down on the cock, other hands
were groping me, and one in particular had taken possession of the crease
between my buttocks.  A finger invaded me, slipping easily through the soap
suds, and up into my arse.  I lowered my mouth over the cock till my lips
met the feel of his pubic hair.  I thought my jaw would dislocate with the
girth of his cock at the root, and raised my head again, hearing him groan
as his cock slid between my lips as far as his knob.  I slipped my tongue
up under his foreskin, between the skin and the helmet, and as he grasped
my head in two hands, slid down on it again.  As I withdrew this time, I
pulled the foreskin down so the next time I swallowed him the knob was
clear for my tongue to taste.

   Behind me, there was still a finger up my bum, probing away without
really finding the centre of my pleasure, but I was aware my arse was also
being soaped and the finger was sliding easier.  I soon knew why, as I felt
the finger withdraw and the sharp pang of a knob forcing up into me.  The
guy holding me round the waist managed to thrust his cock deep in me, till
I was resting on it as much as on his muscled arms.  Still I bobbed up and
down on that insistant cock, feeling it swell even larger and twitch.  I
knew it was coming, but it was still a surprise when my mouth was filled
with the first spurt of silky, warm spunk.  The guy buggering me managed to
lift me almost clear of his cock, leaving just the knob up me, and then
allowed my own weight as he dropped me again to force it right up into me.
This time it hit the right spot and a jag of almost electric pleasure went
from my anus to my cock at the very moment the second spurt of cum filled
my mouth, making me swallow franticly.  He lifted me again, and dropped me
back.  Still that cock was squirting hot juice into my mouth, but after the
third, it was just oozing and twitching against my palate.

   Paolo laughed, and without thanking me at all slid from under me and
splashed back into the bath.  My feet could touch the bottom now, and I
found a better position, leaning against the edge with my bottom jutting
out, just clear of the water.  My guy could fuck me properly now, and
looking over my shoulder I saw it was Sid Follows a centreback.This was
obviously a good position, as to one side of me I could see Jeremy being
fucked just the same by Winston, and two other guys across the bath were
doing it the same way.  All this action was making waves in the still-warm
water and stirring up even more foam.  One or two of the guys had left the
bath and were drying themselves: by the look of their long but limp dicks
they had taken their pleasure already up some arse or in some mouth.

   But Sid, a hefty guy, muscular but a bit overweight, was still ploughing
me, and making me feel every thrust.  My cock was aching to come, and each
time he forced up me and poked into my prostate I thought I might cum.  He
had started slow and gentle, but was going at it as fast as he could and
with the full weight of a heavy body.  I grasped the rim of the bath and
stuck my arse out even further to get more of him.  And to think I was
getting paid for this!  I did not, in fact, cum, but he did, and I heard a
string of swear words as he pumped his spunk into me.  Now I had been
filled at both ends....but I still had not come myself.

   'Did you cum?'

   It was Jamie, who had fucked me the match-day a week before.

   'Not yet, Jamie.  But I'm close.'

   He lifted me and sat me on the edge, just where Paolo had sat.  If a
couple of minutes before I had regretted not coming while Paolo had been
tickling my prostate with his knob, now I was glad I had not, and was
poised at the edge of orgasm for Jamie as he lowered his lips on my cock. I
held his head between my hands, my fingers in his wet hair, and pushed it
down, feeling his lips slide down my shaft till I was completely in him.  I
was so close to coming, I did not want him to move much yet.  He sucked,
and I could feel his tongue fluttering on the front of my shaft, there
where it is most sensitive.  Jeremy and Winston were the only ones, apart
from Jamie, left in the bath now, and I could see Jeremy was really up for
it, panting and groaning as that large, black cock ploughed into him.  I
looked at Jeremy, trying to catch his eye, but he was too far away in
another world of pleasure.  He was facing me but seeing nothing, his eyes
scrunched almost closed, mouthing the words and cries of ecstasy.  I
realised he was coming: this, and Jamie's finger which had somehow slipped
under me and into my well-lubed and stretched arsehole, made me come too.
Jamie swallowed the lot, not that any of my three spurts would have had a
great deal of cum, though I had noticed that in the week since my first
real sex I had indeed started to produce a bit more cum.

   With the ease of an athlete, he lifted himself from the water and sat
beside me on the rim.  As he kissed me, murmuring his pleasure in my body
and willing compliance, I could just about taste my own cum on his lips. 
He was still hard.

   'Do you want to fuck me again, Jamie.'

   'You know I do, Rodney.  Are you sure?  I mean, that Italian stud gave
you a real seeing-to.  I was watching.'

   Did I want it?  My arsehole may have been a bit sore already, but the
sight of that lovely hard cock, his broad shoulders and tiny bum, and above
all the memory of the pleasure he had given me a week before, all that
meant my arse was aching for him to penetrate it.

   'Fuck me like you did last week, Jamie.  I'm desperate for it.'

   'Like this, then.'

   He laid a couple of fluffy white towels on the marble beside us, and had
me lie on my back.  I let him raise my legs and bend them back over my
shoulders exposing my arsehole to him.  I expect it was red and open after
the first fuck, and certainly it felt sore.  Until, that is that his knob
hit the spot and I felt my cock twitch and harden as a jolt of pleasure ran
from deep in my arse through to my cock.  (Oh to be a teen again and hard
whenever there is sex available, and without any help from chemicals!) I
encouraged him to go at me harder and faster, and sweat dripped off his
brow onto me, but his cock was giving me exactly what I wanted.  I could
get my hand to my cock as he supported himself on one arm, and was jerking
it frantic to come before he finished, leaving me again in the air.

   Winston had come and levered himself from the water: Jeremy waded over
to us and hauled himself from the bath, kneeling beside us.

   'Let me...'

   He reached between us, and was jerking my cock, his hand loose and
sensual.  I closed my eyes and felt the orgasm building deep in my arse.  I
would not be long now.  That slap I heard must have been Jeremy's open palm
on Jamie's butt.  I opened my eyes and saw that Jeremy had a finger up
Jamie's butt, pleasuring him there while he still jerked my cock.  I was
coming, and I felt my arse contract on Jamie's cock, gripping it hard as he
still forced it in and out.  The sweat stood out on his brow, and he had
that look almost of pain a man gets as he comes.  I felt his cum deep
inside me and my own little spurt spouted between us to land on my chest.

   My arse was sore, and in a right shitty-spunky mess now, and the two of
us rolled over and into the bath.  I came up spluttering, and wiped my bum
with a wet towel.  Jamie just shook his cock and went to find a dry towel.

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

   After that we just had to empty the bath and roughly wipe it down. 
Jeremy and I chatted.

   'Fucked twice.  Sid Follows and Jamie.  Sucked Paolo off.  And sucked
off by Jamie, too.'

   'That's thirty quid, plus the five for this'.

   'I'd have done it all for nothing.'

   'Don't tell them that!  They get plenty of pay.  Can afford it.  I took
three in the arse and had one in the mouth too.  I came when Winston was
fucking me: I always do!  God, he's sexy.'

   'Dazza never told me why Pat Sankey gives the boys more.'

   'It's not because of what he does on Saturdays.  That's the same as all
the others.  No, it's what we do at his place, and he keeps me sweet by
giving me extra match-days.'

   'You're teasing me.  What?'

   'When I get to his place the door will be opened by a blonde with long
hair, a satin negligee and high heels.  And when she takes the negligee
off, there's a satin basque underneath.'

   'Jeez!  You have a threesome with his wife.'

   'Fuckin ell you're thick sometimes, Rodney.  It's Pat in drag. 
Patricia.'

   'Jeez!  Can't imagine that!'

   'He's quite sexy actually.  Fuckin sight sexier than he is
naked....basque holds him together, and he's got good legs.  But that's not
the end of it.  I have to handcuff him and shackle a sort of bar to keep
his legs apart.  Then tie him to a hook he's got, on the ceiling in front
of a long mirror.'

   'Sounds easy enough!'

   'It is.  Then I whip his arse till he's real hard: he gets hard when you
beat him.  Then I have to let him down a couple of inches so he can stick
his arse out to fuck him.  Then, when I've cum, I get to suck him off. 
Pays thirty quid for that lot.'

   'I'd enjoy all that I think.'

   'Well why not come over on Wednesday after school.  You can have
anything over thirty he gives us...I bet he makes it sixty.  I know he's
keen to have you.'

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

   So that was my first experience of kinky sex, and as it happens the
first time I got to wear panties and stockings.  But that's another story!