Postscript -- With Graham and Beyond

Category: Male-Male (MM)
Submitted by: Mick Age: 16½ then Gender: Male

The last part of my saga which commenced with "Sex At My First Grammar School (1)"

There was an attractive 13-year old in Graham's and my scout troop. His name was Paul and for some reason I thought he might make a good younger sex-partner for Graham. Although Graham liked him, they never did get it together. The only dalliance there was involved Paul and me! Neither Graham nor I regarded this incident as of any particular importance. We each knew that nothing could ever come between us. I was quite fond of Paul and once, at a scout camp, Paul had asked me if I was ever lonely sleeping alone in my little pup tent. I answered that I was lonely sometimes. Paul suddenly said,

"I'll sleep with you if you like," and before I could really say anything, the boy scurried off to fetch his sleeping bag. I don't know what Paul's mates thought of his sudden offer to desert them and sleep with his assistant scoutmaster -- even if I was only 161/2. We spent the night together, but apart from my patting Paul's bottom in a friendly way, nothing happened.

That was left for a subsequent occasion when I visited Paul at his home, on some scout business. Paul was at home with just his younger brother, who became annoyed with Paul over some unspecified and now unremembered matter, and stomped off to his room in a huff. Paul sat on my lap and I felt so drawn to him -- despite my undying love for Graham -- that I put my arm around him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. I asked if I could show him how fond I was of him, but in another way. He said I could, so I unzipped his trousers and took out his young burgeoning cock, which was perhaps three inches long. He made every effort to encourage this, so I began wanking him and he lay back, enjoying the sensation. I asked him if he ever did this to himself. He replied excitedly,

"Every night!"

I asked him if he would like me to finish him off but strangely, he didn't seem bothered. That was my only dalliance with Paul.

Then there was the strange interlude in the early 60s (allowing for telescoping of events), which occurred one evening after a football match, at a local ground. It may even have been a match in which Graham had been playing and which I went along to watch. Graham would have gone home with his parents following his shower. It was towards the end of the day as people were packing up and leaving. How I met Ted D, who was about 17 and went to a different school, I don't recall; maybe he just started talking to me as a fellow spectator. The match had been played in the evening, so dusk was falling and we had been nattering for a while, when we began to horse around. We wrestled on the grass and as twilight advanced, Ted grabbed my crotch. I immediately grabbed his. The grabbing evolved into squeezing and stroking and fondling. We scrabbled to undo each other's zip and soon were in the throes of mutual masturbation, both ejaculating into the evening grass. Panting, Ted said,

"That was great! You're one of the best wankers I've ever had."

When we'd both recovered, we adjusted our clothes, said cheerio, and went our separate ways. It was just a wank; a relief. We never met again. (Was wrestling some sort of adolescent boys' gay foreplay, I wondered?)

However, Graham and I continued to be virtually inseparable, spending as much time in each other's company as was possible. On average, we made love about twice a week, although this figure was to increase in ensuing years as we spent even more time in each other's company, going on holiday and camps together.

I particularly remember a couple of private camps we enjoyed together, one in Scotland for fourteen days in 1962 and a week-long one nearer home in the subsequent year, which followed a Scout camp in Surrey. This was also for a week. We wanked each other off -- and more -- every night on all 28 days! During the latter private trip, Graham and I were accompanied by Fr. Tony and one of his favourites, 15-year old Chris. I distinctly remember one night, following Graham's and my usual wanking session, Chris urgently tugged my left arm. Graham was snuggled in the crook of my right arm, sleeping soundly. Chris took my hand and guided it into his sleeping bag. His underpants were round his knees and suddenly, as Fr. Tony snored on Chris's left, I found myself fondling Chris's very erect young cock. It was circumcised and about four inches long. He was a late developer, and still couldn't produce spunk. He had very little hair but plenty of pre-cum, which I lost no time in helping him to produce! After some wanking and fondling, Chris guided my hand over his lower abdomen and then rolled over so as to facilitate some bum-fondling. I ran my hand over his silky bottom, down into his crack and fingered his sweaty little anus, before returning to his cock and wanking him some more. I felt a twinge of guilt as I still cradled Graham in my arm. Somehow, I reasoned, I wasn't being unfaithful if I didn't make Chris cum. It was just another 'dalliance' -- like Paul.

The next day found Chris and me alone in the summer sun. We started wrestling and I seized the opportunity to once more have a feel of his genitals. I pushed my hand down the front of his shorts, inside his underpants. He pulled his waist in to provide me with easy access as he said grinning,

"You won't find much down there!"

"Oh, I don't know!" I said, as I felt his wonderfully smooth, round testicles and his beautiful, stiff 15 year old cock, which was once more leaking pre-cum. He never made any attempt to grope me and apart from one subsequent occasion, several months later, when I again played with his stiff dick, this was the last time that we engaged in such dalliance. I never wanked him to orgasm.

It was about this time that I had responsibility in the annual Scouts' summer camp. On this particular year, and the one following, we ran an amalgamated camp with Fr Tony's Scout troop in S. London, so it was quite a large affair.

One lad stood out during this week -- Tim, one of the youngest, and from London. He was an introverted bespectacled lad of 13, with an angular face and incredibly blue eyes. He had 'victim' stamped all over him. One of the older boys in the tent -- Vince -- had already started to bully him. His favourite trick at bedtime was to hurl one of his 'Doc Martins' (boots) at poor Tim. Vince kept hold of the laces, so that the boot finished inches away from Tim's face. The poor lad was quite intimidated. I had a word with Vince and took the timid 13-year old under my wing. Tim was not really cut out for the boisterous high spirits that typified the camp. He was very well-spoken and had a genteel manner about him. In fact, he came over as being a little prim. He responded to the protection that I offered and often sought me out during the day. On one such day -- a scorching hot one -- I was resting on my bed in the tent that I shared with several other scouters. Tim peered into the tent.

"Oh, there you are," he said. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, sure, come on over and sit down," I responded. Tim, wearing only a pair of blue shorts, scampered over to my side and sat close by. I put an affectionate arm round him and it took but minimal pressure for him to snuggle up even closer. I looked deeply at him; studied his face. He moved position and now he was half lying on top of me, his arms folded across my chest, his face fairly close to mine. I reached up and removed his glasses. I wanted to see what he looked like without them. I was quite stunned by what an attractive boy Tim was. His blue eyes sparkled beneath exceptionally long lashes, usually hidden by his glasses. My reverie was interrupted:

"Oh sorry, Mick, have you seen Alan?" One of my tent-mates had entered looking for someone else. He didn't bat an eyelid at the sight of a semi-naked, pretty, 13-year old boy half lying on top of a colleague -- but what is more amazing is that I didn't feel the need to leap up in a knee-jerk reaction!

I just said, "No, sorry Frank, not seen him."

"OK, see you later," said Frank, and he left.

That was the beauty of the camp. It was understood that such warmth was necessary in the nature of our pastoral care. Many of these boys were crying out for affection, so such displays of closeness were accepted. Anyway, apart from cuddles and a fond rapport that developed between Tim and me, nothing else occurred -- although I later discovered that one of my colleagues had propositioned Tim in the woods, but he had refused.

When we returned from camp, Tim insisted that I meet his mother, which I duly did and was invited round to tea the following Monday. I discovered that Tim lived alone with his mother in a second floor south London flat. She was a genteel but embittered actress who was 'resting'. Her lilting yet subtle Irish accent belied the resent she felt at not being able to secure regular work. Tim's father had left when he was very young, and his mother now welcomed Tim's newly-found 'friend'. She had forbidden him to get involved with any of the nasty, rough neighbourhood kids, so the poor lad was quite lonely. His strait-laced nature may be partially explained by this. He played the violin but was quite taken with the idea of playing the guitar, having seen me playing at the folk-masses in camp. He asked me if I would teach him how to play, and I said I would. I remember a card he sent me at this time, formally inviting me to visit -- bringing my guitar

'...but for all our sakes, not an amplifier.'

His writing style gives the reader an insight into his almost priggish attitude to things. As I was now living in London, I took to visiting Tim and his mum every Monday. She would cook supper and I would give Tim guitar tuition, before we watched TV. Tim's mother then began to take this as an opportunity to go out with her gentleman friend Ian. Once we had eaten, his mum would leave us to our music and then TV. Tim would go to bed at about 10.00 -- 10.30 and I would stay chatting to him until his mum returned. Things continued in this vein for about a year after that first camp. Tim reached his thirteenth birthday and then one day after supper we retired to his room for our usual guitar lesson. Tim's mum bade us farewell and left for the evening. We toyed with the guitar for a while, but I could tell Tim's heart was not in it on this night. He went very quiet, as if plucking up the courage to say something. Then suddenly he asked,

"Mick, have you ever had sex with a girl?"

As it happened, it had not been that long previously when I had my first real taste of sex with a girl, so I related this incident to Tim:-

I shared a flat in West London with several other people, one of whom was an 18-year old girl called Janet. She had a boyfriend called Ken, but he wasn't one of the flatmates. One night I found myself in the kitchen and Janet began flirting with me. Soon we were kissing, darting our tongues down each other's throats. I slipped one hand up her dress and beneath her knickers and began to finger her fanny whilst my other hand fondled her tits. I had a massive erection -- of course. For some reason we stopped our foreplay and nothing further happened -- until bedtime that is. I went to bed, feeling very horny and slipped naked between the sheets. I hadn't been lying there very long when my bedroom door opened, and there, silhouetted in the doorway was Janet, wearing only the skimpiest of neglig?es, which was undone at the front. She came into my room.

"I've just come to kiss you goodnight." She said. I was still hard from the earlier session and as we French-kissed, I pulled the bedclothes back and tried to pull her into bed with me. She resisted and said, "No, Mick no! I'm someone else's. I can't."

I responded that she was being cruel, seemingly offering herself and then withdrawing. She was a tease. She perhaps felt guilty at this and, wishing to give me some sort of satisfaction, she reached into the bed and gave me a wank.

At the conclusion of the account, Tim suggested quite casually,

"Shall I give you a wank?" I was stunned for a second. The fact that I had been telling this story to a 13-year old boy had given me a huge erection. I hesitated. Even at 161/2 I knew that discovery would mean big trouble, but here was a boy three years my junior, asking if he could masturbate me. I would not have initiated any sex play...but...all the suggestion came from Tim.

"Yes..... if you want to," I replied, and having recovered my wits I added, "would you like me to do the same to you?" I was putty in his hands...though not for long!

"Yes, if you like," said Tim.

I began to undo his zip. Although it had been all his idea, it was I who got there first. I groped and fumbled through the opening in his flies, found the slit in his underpants and pulled out his little cock, which was already very stiff with excitement. He then helped by undoing his belt and slipping his trousers and pants down to his ankles. He began to undo my trousers and soon released my penis from the somewhat painful confines of my pants. As it stood up proud and erect, Tim exclaimed,

"Gosh! It's big enough!"

Actually, it's not that big, a bit over 5 inches that's all, but I suppose this was the first time he'd ever seen a stiff cock other than his own slim little 4 inch nob. We began wanking each other simultaneously. I leaned over and kissed him, but he was none too keen on that. However, there was no mistaking the little whimpers of sheer joy that he was deriving from the mutual wanking. He had obviously only recently discovered it and I found out that he masturbated frequently. In fact, he revealed rather proudly that over one weekend he'd wanked off six times on the Saturday and seven times on the Sunday!

I was nearing the point of no return as Tim pumped furiously at my swollen cock. I delved into a pocket for a handkerchief -- only just in time. I felt the tension mounting in my balls, as I fondled and rubbed his young cock. Then suddenly, I shot in a glistening white arc. The spunk plopped down onto the hanky and several thick creamy spurts followed. Tim watched, fascinated. He played with himself as I finished cleaning up. I then turned my full attention onto his throbbing boyhood. I hadn't talked to him about ejaculation or pre-cum or anything like that, so it came as quite a shock when this pretty 13---year old also produced a stream of thin white sperm. He just gasped loudly as his lovely juice squirted out and then dribbled down his subsiding shaft to coat his testicles with sperm. He viewed this part of wanking as vaguely distasteful and said,

"Ugh!" He clambered off the bed and still with his trousers and pants round his ankles shuffled off into the bathroom to clean himself up.

We chatted for a while and Tim told me that his position in class at school put him quite often right in line at eye level, with his teacher's crotch. He had to really steel himself to stop reaching out and groping his teacher's genitals! All this from the mouth of a na?ve 13-year old! He also told me of the incident at camp when one of my colleagues had propositioned him. Apparently, he found himself going for a walk down to the woods with this colleague, who asked Tim if he ever wanked himself off. When Tim said he did, the colleague asked if he'd like to do it then. Tim declined, so my colleague said,

"Well, there wasn't much point in coming down here then, was there?" End of incident!

It was then about time for Tim to get ready for bed. I watched him as he undressed. He was about to put on his pyjama bottoms before removing his vest.

"Tim," I said, "Take your vest off first. I've never seen you completely naked before."

Tim obliged.

"Now, turn around for me," I commanded.

"You dirty old man," Tim chided, as he did a twirl for my benefit. He then put on his pyjamas and hopped into bed. I sat on the edge of the bed and Tim sat cross-legged with his pyjama fly invitingly left open. There was a chess-board set up between us, but with that gaping fly right opposite, my mind was not wholly on the game and I frequently found my hand slipping off the edge of the board for a quick fondle. With a mischievous grin, he playfully smacked my hand. This seemed to be the bedtime pattern when we were alone. I had said to him how nice it would be if, one night, we were able to take off all our clothes and lie naked on the bed together. Tim readily agreed. I said that perhaps when His mother next went out with her boyfriend we could get naked. Tim was looking forward to that day.

I have asked myself many times if I had, by our actions, our mutual pleasuring, caused Tim any harm. To this day, I come up with the same answer -- no.

The following Monday I arrived as usual and the three of us had supper. After we'd eaten, Tim's mum said, "Ian will be here soon; now, you've done your homework haven't you Tim?" He nodded. "I hope you don't mind my dashing out and leaving you again Mick?"

"Of course I don't mind -- you go out and enjoy yourself," I replied, mentally adding 'We'll be enjoying ourselves here.'

Ian arrived and they departed. As soon as the front door slammed, Tim came and sat on my lap. We cuddled for a while and I kissed him several times on the cheek, which he now seemed to accept. I then put my hand on his crotch and felt immediately that he was already rock hard. I scrabbled at his flies trying to extricate his hard-on, but he was wearing those thick corduroy trousers, so it wasn't easy. Tim pushed my hand away.

"Do you want it out?" he asked exasperatedly. "I'll do it for you!" I smiled at the note of reproach in his voice, which seemed to say, 'some lover you are! You can't even get my cock out properly!'

Mind you, he had to retract his little bum before one very erect penis popped into view. I began wanking him and soon he was stretching his legs out straight and clenching his bum-cheeks, thoroughly enjoying himself once more.

Suddenly there was a loud rap on the door. Tim darted for the safety of the bedroom where he hastily zipped himself up as I went to the door. It turned out to be some wretched piece of junk mail. I took it into Tim, who began reading it. I stood behind him kissing the nape of his neck and hugging him. I undid his belt and unzipped his flies, letting his trousers fall to the floor. I slid his pants all the way down and began fondling his soft cock, which instantly sprang to life again. Tim put down the circular and turned to face me. His nob was now like a spring-loaded poker, perpendicular and rock-hard. I kissed him again and held him close. I stroked his beautiful bare bottom and ran my finger down his bum cleavage. Tim undid my trousers and slipped them down to my ankles along with my underpants. My cock too was as stiff as ever. Quite out of the blue, Tim proposed,

"Do you want to stick your 'thing' up my backside?"

I was absolutely flabbergasted as I stammered,

"It...it might hurt you if I did."

"Shall I stick mine up yours then?" he proffered.

I don't know why I was so reluctant. 'Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb' goes the old saying, but I was having none of it. However, it is not every day that a randy 16-year old finds himself alone in a bedroom with another equally randy, semi-naked, willing boy who is asking to be fucked!

Thinking of his foreskin being pushed down as he tried to enter me, I could only say hesitantly,

"You might hurt yourself."

Tim didn't appear to be upset that his suggestion had drawn a blank, and went on,

"Hey, we're alone and mum's out with Ian. Remember what you said last week?"

We happily kicked off our trousers and pants and removed our tops. We stood there for a couple of minutes, stark naked. I enfolded Tim in my arms as I explored his nakedness. The feel of his lovely, soft, hairless body against mine was electrifying. We moved over to the bed. I lay down and Tim lay facing me. He hugged me tight, his hard cock, with just a sprinkling of young pubics, pushing into my thigh. My cock was hard as iron as it pressed against Tim's smooth belly. I couldn't keep my hands still. I rubbed his beautiful bottom incessantly and stroked him all over. He then lay on top of me and slyly moved his bum up and down in a humping action as I fingered his little bumhole.

We then lay side by side and dreamily wanked each other towards yet another explosive mutual orgasm. Neither of us lasted very long -- two minutes at most. I felt the warning tremors in my balls and, just as my eruption started, I felt the little muscles in Tim's abdomen tense up. He arched his back as I kept wanking him and he squealed,

"OOOOH IT'S CUMMMMING!!!

Three jets of spunk sprayed out over his chest and tummy. Almost simultaneously, I too ejaculated two huge spurts all over Tim's hand and my chest.

"Keep rubbing! Keep rubbing!" I hissed through clenched teeth.

Tim's hand continued, although it was now very sticky. My quivering cock continued to ooze a slow trickle, which dribbled down the shaft. We lay there panting breathlessly and blissfully happy.

Tim viewed our semen-covered bodies and said,

"What a mess!"

He slid off the bed, holding his spunk-soaked hand against his spunk-covered tummy to prevent drips going over the floor, and scampered to the bathroom to clean up. A few seconds later, he returned and handed me some toilet roll. We laughed happily as we cleaned ourselves up.

"How was that then?" I enquired

"That was, just great! -- The best ever!" was his eager reply.

On looking back at that short period in my life, my only regret was that I never took Tim up on his proposal of that day.

Hope everyone enjoyed the full saga.

[lb][i]This story was originally submitted to Solo Touch and not published because it violates the rules.[/i][rb]