(Usual disclaimers apply)
It was a hot summer's day in 1953 and the school was closed for the long holidays. The place was deserted except for Pete and myself. We were painters by trade, working in one of the many classrooms. I was 23 while Peter was a couple of years older.
"Ralph, we're nearly flnished. Let's stop for a break", Pete said.
I put down my brush, unbuttoned the top of my overalls and looked at my workmate. Pete was a tall man, blonde with blue eyes. He walked over to a corner of the classroom and retrieved a three-foot length of rattan.
"Fuck! This takes me back!"
Pete slashed the cane through the air a few times.
"I must have got my bum whacked at least once a month while I was here. Even the bloody prefects had it in for my arse". He grinned. "How about you?"
Now Pete was a sexy young man. I'd loved him for years - unrequited because my big friend was married.
"I got it a few times. There was one prefect who offered a discount if I dropped my shorts".
"That prick Townsend?"
I nodded.
"He tried that on with me but I told him to go fuck himself".
"Well I did what he wanted and he loved it".
"Ralph, I bet he did. You wriggled your little pink arse at him?"
"Yeah. And after that he whacked me on the bare bum every chance he got".
I noticed a pole tenting the front of Pete's overalls. Talking about caning was a real turn-on for him. Time to press home the advantage.
"Funny thing is I still miss those sessions with Townsend". I cleared my throat. "In fact, I could do with a few strokes right now".
Without waiting for his reply I shucked off my overalls and then stepped out of my shorts and undies. I bent over a desk and presented my bare buttocks for Pete to punish.
"I've always wanted to be on this end of a cane", Pete said cheerfully, before whacking my rump with a light stroke which did not hurt at all.
"Pete, I think a fly just landed on my bum. Will you brush it off please?"
"Cheeky bugger!" Pete growled. "Try this on for size".
A powerful stroke scorched my twin-globes.
"Better", I grunted through clenched teeth.
"Right boy, now I'm really going to teach you a lesson you won't forget".
I snickered at Pete imitating Townsend's sarcastic tone but was then totally focused on the serious hurt my mate was inflicting on my taut, firm backside. The cane lashed my man-mounds with a ferocity I had never received before. Not even Townsend at his worst had managed to hurt me like this. Pete was giving me the hiding of my young life.
Now, the buttocks are very close to nerve-rich genitalia and very soon pain turned into exquisite pleasure. But then Pete threw down the cane.
"Let that be a lesson to you", he lisped, in his passable imitation of the hated Townsend.
I stood up and let Pete see my stiff penis.
"Fucken-hell, mate!" he exclaimed. "You really do like having a sore botty".
"Looks like I'm not the only one", I said, pointing at the fabric-covered flesh-pole which was threatening to burst Pete's trouser buttons.
"Well, it's rag week for Vi and I'm as horny as hell", Pete said. "Besides, I've always fancied your arse like crazy". He shuffled his feet. "Of all the guys at the footy club you are the only one I'd love to give a good root up the bung-hole". He shuffled his feet again. "Suppose that makes me queer?"
"No harm done", I said quickly, to reassure thee big lug. "I've often wondered what it would be like to be bummed by a stud like you". Now it was my turn to shuffle my feet. "Nothing serious, just a bit of fun between mates, that's all".
"Well if you're sure .."
"There's a bed in the sick room down the corridor", I suggested. "Let's finish up in here first and then we'll have the rest of the afternoon to have some fun".
In no time at all the job was done and we were ready. We loaded the paint and brushes into the boot of Pete's pre-war Morris. I retired to the toilets where I made sure I was empty and clean for Pete. While I was there I heard the big man at a urinal, his strong stream splashing against the porcelain.
The sick room at least had a single bed. We both stripped off all our clothes. Pete was rampant, his long penis rooted in its forest of pubic hairs slapped against his firm, taut belly.
I bent over the end of the bed and soon Pete was gently fondling both cheeks of my sore, striped bottom.
"Shouldn't have hit you so hard", he said.
"I needed it", I reassured him.
I heard him spit on his penis before pressing the knob against my virgin hole. He pushed and the tight sphincter eventually yielded to the onslaught. There was a flash of pain and he paused. When I was ready he inched his considerable length into my inner chamber. I was aware that my big friend was now joined to me in the most intimate way two males can ever be together.
"You ok?" It was a command, not a question.
"Yes".
He started thrusting, slowly at first but then long hard strokes. I was totally overwhelmed by the carnal sensation of his swollen penis thrusting inside me, a sensation fuelled by the throbbing of my hot, flogged buttocks. It was a pleasure I had neither expected or known before.
The bed squeaked as he fucked me. The big man grunted with each powerful thrust. Pockets of gas escaped from my rectum, bloated by his pistoning man-meat. The farting sounds from my fundament, somehow adding to the intensity of the experience.
After many minutes Pete moaned softly and I felt his penis expand before it exploded and sprayed my inner walls with his spunk. My own cock responded and it was the best time, ever.
Afterwards, he withdrew slowly and then found a rag to clean us both up. Pete was his old self. The release had made him more relaxed and cheerful than ever. I went to the toilet and expelled copious quantities of man-seed before going out to the Morris where Pete was waiting behind the wheel. The cane was on the passenger seat.
"What's that for?"
Pete smiled and tossed the length of rattan over onto the back seat.
"Your backside. As often as you need it!"
I grinned.
The big man turned the key in the Morris and we took off down the road.
From: hotbotty (at) fastmail.fm