THE HOUSE SECOND
by Darth Moomin darthmoomin@meta4.org
DISCLAIMER and COPYRIGHT
This story is an original work of fiction. All characters portrayed herein are not intended to resemble anyone in real life whatsoever.
Usual rights are given: distribute this story in any way you see fit as long as this file remains totally unchanged. Enjoy :-)
CHAPTER ONE: Hook, line and sinker.
I frowned at my Maths textbook.
"The area of the largest face is one quarter of AC-squared plus BA-squared plus CB-squared, which equals a quarter of H to the power of two B to the power of two..."
Clear as mud.
I swore under my breath as I realised I'd chewed clean through the top end of my clutch pencil. Muttering various incoherent curses against long-since-expired Greek mathematicians under my breath, I proceeded to dredge the minute bits of green plastic from between my teeth.
This was the downside of being in the Lower Sixth form - mock exams on stupidly hard maths problems. Languages I could do. Maths I couldn't, or at least not without disproportionate amounts of head scratching, frowning and atrocities against clutch pencils.
It was a lovely summer's day and so I'd installed myself in one of the rickety benches that sat by the swimming pool. They were just out of splashing distance on the top of the raised grass banks that surrounded it allowing for a rather relaxing environment.
I sat - or rather lay - with my feet against one of the arms of the bench and my head propped up against the other, my school uniform jumper acting as a pillow; I had a bottle of lemonade to my right hand and I was wearing a pair of sunglasses.
It was usually nice and quiet here and the location really caught the low afternoon sun from over my shoulder, but today there was a third-form free-swim in progress accompanied by the screams, shouts, laughter and whistle-blowing that tend to be generated by thirteen-year-olds and the unfortunate lifeguard allocated to them.
After each successive failure to grasp the concepts behind "Pythagoras' Big Theorem", I found myself glancing over towards the pool and the thirty or so just-about-to-be- or just-turned-thirteen-year-old boys. At that age, being a whole three years older than them was a big deal - I was a sixth former and a house-second to boot, earmarked to become a prefect next year and take on the house-captaincy of the Junior Boys' boarding house to which I was attached.
It was quite a cop-out really: While the rest of my peers were still stuck in bunk-beds, sleeping eight to a dorm, I had my own single bed in a small room just off from one of the Junior Boys' dorms. While they still had to jostle in line for showers, I had but to arrange a mutually exclusive time with only the House Captain (with whom I got along extremely well - different story!) as by the time our suggested bed time rolled around, all of our charges had long since been in the land of nod.
Yes, it was a slight pain as I ended up spending the majority of my time with the Juniors, but having said that they weren't a bad lot in my dorm - reasonably well behaved and capable of holding moderately interesting conversations...
This geometry really wasn't getting any easier, so I downed tools and took a swig of my lemonade. The class had started to disperse when I noticed one of the third formers heading towards me, towel wrapped round his shoulders.
"Hi Sean," he greeted me, teeth chattering as his body cooled down quickly from the sudden cessation of exercise.
Gareth - Gaz to his mates - was one of the third formers in my dorm and the feather in my cap. He'd been tagged as a troublemaker when he arrived at the school at the beginning of the year, but with a bit of questioning and a visit to the doctor, we soon found out he had a reaction to tartrazine and hence became rather hyperactive. A slight diet modification later ("What? No orange squash?!") and he'd settled down brilliantly, now being one of the third form's star pupils, all of which my Housemaster quite unexpectedly attributed to me.
For whatever reason, Gareth also attributed his ability to stay out of detention to me also, and we'd actually become quite good friends, even though this was scowled upon by my peers.
"Hey Gaz," I greeted him. I looked him up and down as he approached, relishing the opportunity to see him wearing as little as he was doing now.
"Whatcha working on?"
"Maths," I grumped, waving idly at the pile of text books and notes surrounding the bench.
"Oh, your favourite," he grinned, skillfully leaping backwards to avoid the anticipated playful swipe I launched at him.
He really was good looking, and in fact it was him that dispelled the last shred of doubt in me that I wasn't totally, absolutely, one hundred percent gay. He had a mop of dirty blond hair that usually sat in curtains over his eyes, but was presently raked back over his head by his fingers as he got out of the pool. He had a slightly upturned not-quite-button nose, feint freckles and a mouth that almost always wore a wonderfully genuine lop-sided smile.
Having found he was actually quite good at sports, he'd soon put on a fair amount of muscle mass and had a taught, toned stomach that just hinted at the musculature beneath it with a wonderful bubble-butt bringing up the rear, so to speak.
"I think you need a new pair of swimming trunks, mate," I commented. Indeed, the ones he was wearing were torn around the leg on his left side and, despite being of the baggy type, were obviously a couple of sizes too small for him and hence left very little to the imagination, much to my satisfaction.
"Yeah," he frowned, twisting first one way and then the other to inspect them. This, of course, only had the side effect of making them tighter, accentuating his bulge around the front and the crack of his arse at the back. I could feel my dick rapidly filling with blood at this tantalising sight and picked up one of my maths text books to aid the maintenance of my modesty.
"Listen, Sean, can I talk to you about something?"
"Sure, mate - you know you can any time."
"I, uh..." He stopped as he spotted the next swimming class approaching. "I'd better go now otherwise I'll be late for science. Can I talk to you this evening? After prep?"
"Sure - I'll be in my study."
"Cool," he nodded. "Cool." He added again, as if making a resolution to come and see me. This was obviously quite important.
"See you a bit later, then?" I called after him as he turned and began to walk off, arse flexing under the wet material.
He turned round and flashed his grin at me, causing my dick to lurch in my trousers. Damn he was hot...
==========
"The square of the area of the largest face equals the sum of the squares of the areas of the three smaller faces of a right tetrahedron."
Well, I'm sure they did, but I was damned if I could understand - let alone reproduce - the proof.
As I sat chewing yet another clutch pencil into oblivion, I heard footsteps creaking their way along the corridor outside my study. They paused for a moment, then turned round and walked off a short way before stopping and coming back. After the third time this happened I shook my head and strode over to the door, opening it to find a rather shocked looking Gareth stood there.
"Err.. Uh..."
"Come in, Gareth," I smiled. "Want a drink?"
"What, alcohol?" he asked, surprised.
"I was actually thinking more along the lines of a cup of tea."
He reddened, embarrassed by his presumption, but nodded anyway. I chuckled, flicked the kettle on and gestured for him to sit down in the rather threadbare (yet extremely comfortable) sofa that was squeezed into the corner of my study. He sat down, a look of shock on his face as it tried to absorb him, but he soon got comfortable.
I dragged my chair over from my desk and straddled it, leaning on the back, chin on my arms.
"So what did you want to talk to me about?"
"Uh... Well... Ummm..."
"School?"
"No..."
"One of the staff giving you a hard time?"
"No more than usual," he smiled.
"Bullying?" I bristled. No-one was going to beat on MY Gaz and get away with it.
"No, no..."
I paused for a moment and tried to think of what I thought about in third form more often than not.
"Sex?"
He shuffled in his seat and reddened once more. Bingo.
"OK, so what's up?"
Damn he looked cute when he was embarrassed!
"It's kinda personal," he said, suddenly taking an extreme interest in the threadbare carpet.
"I promise as God is my witness that whatever you say will not go outside this room."
"Promise?" he asked, looking at me.
I nodded and smiled reassuringly.
"And promise not to laugh?"
"I promise."
"I..."
The kettle clicked off as it boiled. I ignored it.
There was a pause.
"Don't you want to make the tea?" Gareth asked timidly.
"No - I want to hear what you have to say first. Tea can wait."
He took another deep breath.
"I keep getting..." He glanced down at his crotch. "You know?"
"What? Hard?"
He nodded. I swallowed.
"And?"
"It happens all the time!" he said desperately.
"And?"
"What do you mean, 'and'? It's embarrassing!"
"Yeah, it certainly is," I agreed. "So what's the problem?"
"I told you - it happens all the time!"
"Well, you're thirteen, mate! All a thirteen-year-old's body does is consume food, smell bad and get hard!"
I loved teasing him about his personal hygiene - when that boy wasn't in the shower he was brushing his teeth, and when he wasn't brushing his teeth he was washing his hands. To be honest I'd have thought he would've dissolved by now.
"You mean ALL the time?"
"What, like now?" I probed, seeing him squirming in the sofa.
"Especially like now," he shuffled, digging into his crotch with his elbows. I had to shuffle too. Knowing that Gaz had an erection and was less than six feet away caused my own dick to spring into life.
"Well, if its any consolation, so do I."
"Really?"
I nodded. His eyes had lit up at the realisation that it wasn't a problem unique to him.
"Anything even vaguely to do with sex and up it comes," I said, standing up to make the tea. As I did so, the tent my erection was making became all too apparent.
"Woah, you're really sprung," giggled Gareth.
"Like I said, anything to do with sex..."
I was actually quite enjoying showing off to Gareth like this. Normally I'd have curled up with embarrassment by now, but his admiring gaze more than bolstered my courage.
I chucked a couple of teabags into the two slightly chipped mugs that were stood next to the kettle and poured on the boiling water. Gareth watched me intently, but I was fairly sure it wasn't the tea-making process that had him so enthralled. I mashed the bags around to speed the infusion and added some UHT milk. I hate the stuff normally, but it was passable in a mug of Tetley's.
"Yeah, but this is even when I'm not thinking about sex. I mean, it'll just get hard and then stay like that for ages!"
"Well, do you ever do anything about it?" I asked as I handed him his mug, this time sitting on the sofa beside him.
"What CAN I do? It just stays there!"
"You do wank, right?"
"Uh, yes?"
"Is that a question or an answer?"
"Not sure..."
"You know, play with yourself," I said, making the internationally recognised ISO standard sign of masturbation with my right hand.
"Oh! No - my parents told me I shouldn't play with myself," he said, suddenly becoming very cagey.
"I think we might have found the problem," I smiled. I took a sip of my tea. "I bet you've had a couple of, er, accidents at night, too..."
"How did you know?" he asked, suddenly looking very panicked.
"It's perfectly normal, Gaz,"
"It's perfectly normal to wake up with your keks drenched in slime?"
"If you haven't been squeezing one off on a reasonably regular basis, yeah - you body has to empty your balls somehow..."
"Eh?"
As bright as he was, he could also be wonderfully innocent and naive sometimes. I decided to spell it out in no uncertain terms.
"You're going through puberty, damn it! Your bollocks are gonna be churning out sperm like there's no tomorrow! Unless you do something about it, your body has to take matters into its own hands to release the pressure from time to time."
He looked at me rather blankly.
"You need to start wanking!"
"Huh? You mean..." he too gave the internationally recognised ISO standard sign of masturbation. "But I've never done it before... I dunno what to do..."
"Look - your body already knows what to do: You know that because you keep waking up with sticky boxers, right?"
He nodded.
"All you've got to do is, quite literally, give it a helping hand so you can do it when and where you want, not at some inopportune time when you've got to sneak into a bathroom stall to change your underwear."
"You saw?" he asked, demoralised.
I nodded. "I don't think anyone else did, though."
"I dunno what to do though... I mean, I've heard people joking about it, but I've never actually... um..."
My mouth went dry. It was now or never.
"Do you want me to show you?"
Gareth grinned and nodded keenly. I placed my tea on the windowsill, stood up and flicked the lock on the study door, then checked there was no way to see in through the drawn curtains.
"Now, like you asked me, you can't say ANYTHING about this to ANYONE, OK?"
"Of course I won't," he squeaked, now staring openly at my crotch.
I sighed and kicked off my shoes, then undid my belt and let my trousers slide to the floor. Gareth drew breath as my tented boxers came into view.
"Well?"
"Huh?"
"I'm not doing this for the good of my health, you know!" I lied, sitting back down on the sofa.
"You want me to... uh..."
I nodded.
He stood up and, for the first time, I saw Gareth's tent. For a kid of thirteen, Gaz certainly didn't have anything to complain about. With shaking hands, he unbuckled his belt and shed his trousers also. He was wearing a grey pair of those stretchy kind of boxers that hugged your body. However at the front they were having a hard time with his tumescence, the elastic round the waist nearly being pulled away.
"Woah, nice," I said before I could catch myself.
"Really?" he asked, his eyes searching for any insincerity in me.
"Really," I smiled back. I sat down on the sofa and indicated that he should sit down too.
"Now are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, absent-mindedly rubbing myself with my left hand. I, in all sincerity, couldn't believe this was happening.
Gareth's eyes were fixed on my crotch. "Yeah," he croaked, his voice husky with that all too familiar sound of sexual desire.
I lifted my hips and pulled down my boxers, my dick slapping back stickily against my stomach as it cleared my shorts. Gareth actually gasped this time and leaned in a little closer to get a better view. I was quite proud of myself in the wedding tackle department: I'd grown to the better side of seven inches and had a nice, plump pair of balls to go with. While I wasn't averse to body hair, the good Lord had been kind and seen fit to keep my arse, upper thighs and balls hair-free with a decent patch of pubic hair topping the whole lot off.
"Shit, it's huge!" exclaimed Gaz, examining my nob with extreme interest.
"Not really," I smiled, although that compliment did wonders for my ego. "C'mon, I've shown you mine..."
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"Gareth, I promise."
He sighed and did the same as I'd done by raising his hips and wriggling out of his boxers. Now it was my time to gasp - he really was beautiful! His dick looked to be about five-and-a-half inches long yet was fairly slender with a gentle upward curve to it. He had a moderate crop of dark blond pubic hairs at the base and a pair of very full-looking testicles nestled beneath.
"Now why on earth would I laugh at you?" I asked, trying to drag my gaze from his crotch to his face.
"It's tiny compared to yours," he sulked, looking at my stiffy before turning and frowning at his own erection.
"Gaz, I'm three years older than you, mate! How long have you had pubes?"
"Three or four months I 's'pose,"
"And you're already huge for your age!"
Gareth continued to stare at my dick, which was now bobbing in time to my heart beat and now glistening with precum. After a moment's silence, I decided to go for broke.
"Do you want to feel it?"
"Can I?" he asked immediately, eyes glistening with excitement.
"Just be gentle," I added hastily as he shuffled over rather quickly and looked as if he was about to grab me rather hard.
He smiled at me and slowed down. He was now sat right beside me, his naked left hand side pressed against my right. With a look of concentration on his face, he carefully wrapped his long fingers around me and squeezed just beneath the head. He smiled as he felt me tense beside him, and looked on in wonder as a little bubble of precum emerged at the tip.
"Well, we may as well start your lesson in tossing yourself off," I smiled, now breathing rather heavily. "Can I touch you?"
Gareth nodded eagerly and shuffled closer until his hips were touching mine.
"Squeeze a bit harder... That's it; now just move your hand up and down..."
I had to grit my teeth as Gareth's soft hand began its reciprocal motion.
"Is this right?" He asked, presumably disconcerted at the grimace on my face.
"That's perfect," I replied. Managing to get my feelings slightly in check, I wrapped my hand around Gareth's wonderfully soft yet steely hard dick. He stopped breathing for a moment and reflexively pushed his hips up into my hand, causing his foreskin to peel back and reveal his helmet which, like mine, was now oozing a little.
"Oh shit this feels good," he said hoarsely as I began to stroke him. His bollocks were being bounced up and down as I wanked him, and I simply had to use my free hand to tease and prod them. His nuts felt full to bursting, filling their sack deliciously. I made it my task to release that pressure as soon as I could.
Blinded by lust and the hint of his scent that had found its way to my nostrils, I knew I wanted to give Gareth the most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced whilst conscious.
'Better judgement' was not a phrase my mind was at all receptive to at that point, so I can't reasonably say I acted against it. I did, however, slide off the sofa and kneel in front of Gaz's spread legs.
Without so much as a 'by your leave' I leaned forward and scooped Gareth's dick into my mouth. Instantly I felt his body tense as I swirled my tongue up, over and around his dick and moments later I felt his hands on my hair. As silly as it sounds, someone running their fingers through my hair has always been a major turn-on for me, but having Gareth's fingers there as well as his wonderfully sweet-tasting dick in my mouth was almost more than I could bare.
I looked up to see his abs clenched and his eyes screwed tightly closed as I slurped and sucked over his nob.
It took about another thirty seconds before I felt his testicles start to tighten up under my chin on my down strokes, and only a couple more before Gareth started to panic.
"Oh... Oh shit Sean... I... Fuck... I'm gonna p... piss..."
I smiled up at him rather evilly and redoubled my efforts.
"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Sean! Seriously! Ah shit! I need... Need to piss!"
I answered his panicked request by rubbing a spit-soaked finger over his bum hole.
"AHH! FUCK! I can't.... I... I'm gonna... Ugnnn..."
Under any other circumstances, someone pulling at my hair so violently would have been rather painful. Instead, I shivered with delight as Gaz stuffed his dick as far as it would go into my mouth making his compact patch of dark-blond pubes tickle my nose.
His entire body jerked quite forcefully and I swallowed on reflex as his first shot of cum rocketed down the back of my throat. I got a hint of his taste and immediately wanted more, so I pulled back until his dickhead was being lapped by my tongue. Using a thumb and two fingers, I rapidly tossed him off to keep his orgasm coming. And come it did: damn that kid's balls must've been fit to burst!
Streamer after streamer of his stringy cum was fired into my mouth making it water like nobody's business. Gaz was extremely fond of extra strong mints - as was I - and he must've polished off a packet at some stage during the day: His cum tasted sweeter than I could have possibly imagined. And there was still more of it being squirted from him. Resigned to the fact that I'd either have to swallow or face drowning in cum (I could think of worse ways to go!) I reluctantly swallowed, allowing me to suck the remnants and little dribbles that were still being squeezed from his dickhead.
Above me, Gareth's intense panting was slowing slightly, although his chest was still heaving up and down as if he'd just run a marathon. He actually looked dazed!
It was at that point I realised what I'd done. I'd totally betrayed the trust of someone in my care - something as a prefect I'd sworn never to do. Crap.
Cautiously, I sat back down next to Gaz who still didn't look as if he was totally back on planet Earth.
"Gaz? I'm sorry, man... I shouldn't have... um... I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that..."
Gareth looked at me as if I was retarded. Then he laughed.
"Wait - you think..."
He grinned his cheeky grin and then took hold of my dick, jerking me off extremely effectively.
"Gareth - no - you shouldn't be...."
I was silenced extremely quickly by the intense sensation of his mouth surrounding my nob. Within seconds, I knew two things. One - Gaz's mouth felt bloody amazing on my dick, and two - I'd most definitely been played: the little fucker had planned this all along! He was sucking me with such dexterity and effectiveness that there was no way this was his first time.
It was under a minute before my toes were curled and I was ripping the stuffing from the arm of the sofa as I fired round after round into his mouth.
Like the little pro cocksucker he was he never missed a beat, slurping and swallowing my load and coaxing as much out of me as he could by squeezing my bollocks and running his hand up my shaft.
Once he'd decided I'd finished, he sat astride me, wrapped his arms round my neck and kissed me ferociously. I could feel him getting hard again as he fed me my own cum.
When we split, it was now his turn to look worried.
"You're not angry are you, Sean?"
"Angry? I'm bloody livid!"
I actually felt Gaz tremble slightly. I smiled at him and pulled him closer so I could whisper in his ear.
"Livid that we could've been having each other for months."
He sprang away from me again, beaming. "So you're not angry?"
"Only at myself for being such a fuckin' chump that I get played by a friggin' third former!"
"It was worth it, though, eh?" he giggled.
"Damn right. Listen, I gotta ask - you've obviously done this with someone before..."
"Nate."
"Nathan Heath?" The slim, red-haired, befreckled bunk mate of Gaz? No way... that'd be far too much for my imagination to handle.
Gaz nodded. "And I'll let you into another little secret - that cum all over me when I had to go to the loo to change that one morning? It wasn't all mine!"
Gareth giggled as my hardon inflated underneath him. He squirmed around on top of me, making us both gasp at the sensation. He soon looked worried again though.
"Sean? This isn't gonna make you not like me any more is it?"
Awww - bless! Still a little kid under all those hormones.
"Gaz, you could never speak to me again and I'd still be your friend. Got that?"
He nodded and beamed at me once more before hugging me tight. I wrapped my arms round him and gently rubbed his back. I kissed his neck and sat him up on my lap.
"It's getting late, mate - you'd better get off down to the house."
"Do I have to?"
"I'd love to say no, but Mathers'll kick my arse if you're late because of me. 'Sides, I'm on duty this evening, so I'll see you in a bit. And remember, no telling people what we did - not even Nate, OK?"
"OK," he moaned. "What if Nate wants to play with you as well?"
"I guess we'll deal with that as and when it happens," I grinned, guessing correctly that Gareth had already fully briefed Nate on what he was going to do with me this evening.
He smiled, perceiving that I'd already guessed what was going and leaped off me to retrieve his clothes.
When he was back in his uniform, he walked up to me and squeezed my dick one last time.
"See you this evening," he said before before grinning and prancing out of the door.
I locked it after him and began pulling on my own clothes. 'An interesting sequence of events,' I thought, 'but not at all unpleasant!'
That's all, folks! Let me know what you think and if it's worth continuing...
See ya,
Darth Moomin
darthmoomin@meta4.org