In life there is fact and there is fantasy, often joined by hope. The following story which draws to some extent on my experience of adolescent love reflects that, but that all happened over 30 years ago and the circumstances were quite different and the characters in the story should not be read as refering to any person in particular.
If the reader would like more background to the early part of the story please see Simon's Seduction.
The usual warnings apply as the story deals with consensual sex between boys.
Feed back would be appreciated.
Jamie and I
It was the Easter break. The boarders had gathered at the station to catch the train to the city. It was a perfect autumn morning as the boys milled around, excited by the prospect of spending the next week with their families. The sun shone brightly on the packed platform.
I stood talking to my friends from our House. Simon in particular. I wished he were going to spend some of the break with me again. He had stayed for a week during the summer holidays, and I had finally seduced him. We had become regular partners but, when you slept in different dormitories, it was not easy to find a discrete place for a quick wank, let alone anything more adventurous. I longed to fuck him again as I had on the nights we spent together in the cabin by the lake, to feel the warm depth of his body enclosing my penis, and pour my seed into him. So I looked longingly at his angelic features, the green eyes, the dark curly hair, and thought of him sleeping in the bed next to me at home, of my hand gliding between the sheets, feeling his hard, young uncut cock as a prelude to penetrating me once more. I wanted to taste his sweet spunk again on my tongue. But his parents had insisted he spend the break with them.
It was when I turned aside from Simon with a sigh that I saw him. I didn't know his name. I had never seen him before. What I saw now was the most beautiful human being I had ever laid eyes on: slight figure, about 5'6", hair of gold rippling across his scalp, the features of a Greek god, and penetrating blue eyes.
My heart leapt. I knew what love was. A year earlier, at 14, emotions I did not understand had surged through me when I saw Simon in the first few weeks of the new school year. I had finally understood that it was love that I was experiencing, and it had taken me a year to consummate it.
This was love at first sight. I could not take my eyes off him, as I started to edge my way towards him through the throng of boys. I came close. He was standing alone, surrounded by others talking animatedly. Why, I wondered? He looked up at me shyly, with an expression which I could only think of as sad, despite the beauty of his features. I smiled.
"Hullo," I said. "I haven't seen you around. What House are you in?"
"Parsons. I came up from the Prep school this year," he replied in a voice that had not quite broken.
I could hardly control my own voice as I spoke to him. My heart was racing.
Here I was speaking to the most beautiful boy in the school, probably the world, I thought, and no one else was taking the slightest interest in him.
Prep school. That meant something to those of us who had been around: he would have been initiated into the boarding school world of sex.
"I'm Huw Davies," I croaked, trying hard to control my emotion. "I'm in Cranston."
"Yes, I know. Jamie Strong. My friends call me Jay, or Tips: don't ask me why. You're captain of the Under 16 cricket team, aren't you. I saw your century against Joey's. It was fantastic."
He looked up at me with those great blue eyes as he spoke. I was a good four or five inches taller than he. There was a note of admiration in his voice. I felt weak at the knees.
"I had a bit of luck," I said modestly, adding, "do you play?"
"I love it. I'm in the school Under 14 team this season."
For a moment I fantasised that he he'd detected the ambiguity in my question, and responded in kind.
I love it: do you, I wondered?
Of course: he was a 13 year old boy awash with hormones who had been in the Prep school. Of course he loved it. I had learnt a lot in the past year. So probably had he. But he looked so innocent, but then so had Simon. Shit. I was turning to jelly as visions of him lying naked, masturbating, flowed through my fervid imagination. What was his cock like, I wondered? Big? Cut?
I had to calm down, so I changed the subject.
"Going away for the break?" I enquired.
"No, I'm staying home with my Dad"
"Where's that?" I asked as innocently as I could.
"Kensington."
My head began to spin.
"Great," I blurted out. "I'm staying with my uncle. He lives in Kensington."
"What street?"
"Harris Road"
"Oh, its only two blocks away. We're in Belgrave Street."
I was oblivious to everything around me, even the sound of two hundred excited adolescents, and the sound of the train. My whole consciousness was focussed on this vision before me. My cock had gone hard involuntarily as we spoke. It was held fast between my thigh and the leg of my boxers. I glanced down at his crotch. No sign of anything. Fuck.
Just then as the boys crowded towards the train I was forced against him. I felt my hard cock against his belly. Did he feel it?
"Sorry," I said, feeling my face flushing. "Nearly, got knocked over."
"It's OK. Let's get on board." He gave me that wondrous look, to which he added a smile. Oh God, had he winked too? I nearly creamed my boxers.
In my excited state I had forgotten Simon, who I had arranged to travel with. Along with Jay I was pushed forward by the crush of schoolboys into the compartment, with four other boys. He sat next to me, our thighs pressed together.
It was not a long journey into the city. I had to make the most of it.
"Do you play tennis," I asked.
"Not very well, but I like it."
"My uncle's got a court. Would you like to come over one day?"
Again those eyes, the colour of the sky outside, stared up at me, with a look I found hard to interpret. Gratitude? Admiration? Hero-worship? Attraction? Oh, if only, I thought.
"Love to," he replied, "if it's OK with Dad."
"What about your Mum," I asked stupidly.
It was if I had planted my knee in his adolescent balls. His face crumpled, and tears formed in those brilliant eyes. In his vulnerability he was more beautiful than ever. I began to shake inside.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I've said something wrong."
"It's just ......, it's just........"
He couldn't get the words out. Fortunately the other boys in the compartment were occupied by a card game.
"It's OK, it's OK," I tried to comfort him, as my heart bled.
He pulled himself together, and, with a look that almost broke me up.
"She's left," was all he said.
I wanted to hug him, kiss him, smother him, protect him, but I simply put my hand on his knee and said:
"I'm sure she still loves you," adding, but only in my mind, "As I do."
"Give me your number, and I'll ring you about tennis," I ventured as the train pulled into Central Station.
"I'd like that," he replied, giving me that look again, and handing me a slip of paper with his address and number.
"Be in touch," he called as he got down from the carriage to be swept up by a tall, handsome middle-aged man, who was obviously his father. I felt a pang of jealousy.
My cock was rock hard, as jumped down onto the platform. I had to meet my uncle in town, but first I had to get some relief. I headed towards the Men's toilet. As I entered there was Simon, standing at the urinal
"Oh, fuck," I mumbled to myself. In my infatuation with Jay I had forgotten my lover.
"Si," I breathed as I stood next to him, "sorry I got pushed into another compartment in the crush."
I glanced down at that beautiful cock that I had lovingly caressed with my lips and taken into my body on many occasions since I had first seduced him three months earlier. He had pulled the foreskin back to reveal the glistening tip.
"You were talking to Jamie Strong," he said in a slightly accusatory tone, as he slid his foreskin back and forth and his cock began to stiffen.
"You know him?" I asked incredulously.
"Of, course, he was in Prep School a year behind me. He's now in Parsons. The pin-up of Parsons, I hear."
The frankness in our conversation which had followed our becoming lovers, had revealed a worldliness in Simon which I had never suspected. His beauty had educated him at an early age about how older boys and men pursued good-looking adolescent boys. He now spoke openly, at least to me, about it.
I got out my own raging hard-on, all seven inches of it pointing at the flushing mechanism.
"Did he give you that?" Simon asked, leering at me, and stroking his now hard cock at the same time. He had his balls out too, held hard against the bottom of his fly, shining, pink.
He looked me in the eye and pressed me further as his hand fastened around my dick.
"He's quite a dish, isn't he."
"Do you think so?" I replied in as calm a voice as I could muster while my cock almost spewed its load against the porcelain.
"Are you planning on fucking him, as you fuck me," he asked with a twinkle in his eye and wriggling his bum provocatively. "I heard a couple of boys in prep gave it to him once."
"What about a quick session," I suggested, changing the subject, and nodding towards the cubicles. He was stroking my aching dick with the same rhythm as his own. Precum was leaking out the end and I smeared it all over the tip so that it glistened, like his
"OK, it's safer than jacking off here, but we'll have to be quick."
We darted into the nearest stall, cocks in hand, just as the main door opened.
"Shhh," Simon whispered, "stand on the seat, so they can't see your legs.
I undid my trousers as I stood up and let them fall around my feet, fully exposing my cock and balls to Simon's waiting mouth. I had taught him how to deep-throat me, and he took all but about an inch of my meat into his mouth. I ran my hand through his dark curls, smelt his hair, and once more my love for him surged through my veins.
I felt his tongue slide around the head, and then the cold air on my moist prick. He was licking my balls, which were about to overflow. As his cheek brushed against the underside of my cock I lost control and in a series of spasms my cock exploded all over his face. Spunk ran down his cheek onto his chin. Another spurt splattered onto his lips. Yet another flew over his shoulder and hit the door of the stall, dribbling down towards the toilet roll.
Simon's own cock exploded at the same instant as his hand raced up and down its length. Spurt after spurt landed in my boxers that were level with the tip of his cock. The place was redolent with adolescent sperm, and I faced the prospect of meeting my uncle in a few minutes with my boxers saturated with Simon's spunk.
There was a knock on the door, and a man's voice said: "are you feeling alright?"
He must have heard my stifled cry as I came.
"Yes, just feeling a bit sick after the train journey," Simon called out with his usual presence of mind.
We froze. What if he suspected there were two of us? What if he could smell the spunk.
"I'll be OK," Simon said, "I just need to sit down for a minute."
We heard he retreating footsteps and the squeak of the door. We sighed with relief and began to clean up.
"Si, that was fantastic."
"Yes, but we mustn't do that again. Too dangerous. We had better be careful leaving. Wait a few minutes, then I'll go. If he is waiting around I'll distract him so you can escape. See you back at school. Think of me when you pull off during the hols."
The plan worked and I sauntered through the station and walked quickly to where I was to meet my uncle. My boxers were sticking to my body, and I worried that the damp stains would show through my trousers. I had to avoid sitting down!
.............................................................................
I lay on the bed at Uncle Jack's place, with only my boxers on. I told myself I wouldn't take them off for the whole of the break, as I wanted to feel Simon's spunk next to my dick all day and all night. I would add mine to it, and when we got back to school I would get him to cream into them again until they were stiff with our leavings.
I was staying alone with Uncle Jack because my parents were overseas. He was my father's elder brother. Rich, even richer than Dad. They had made a fortune together in the rag trade. The house was huge, although located in one of the most desirable parts of the city. The tennis court was big enough to build another house on. He lived alone there, with his dogs. My aunt had divorced him when I was very young.
I did not understand the whispered asides of my parents and other relations, but my older brother told me when I was 12 that there was a man involved. I didn't believe him. Boys might fuck around with other boys, as I did, and I knew he did, but grown men didn't, or so I thought then.
But at 15 I knew better. The thought of it excited me. My cock stirred as I imagined Uncle Jack with a stiffy. He wandered around the house naked, and I never lost an opportunity to take in his regulation, cut cock and huge balls that seemed to hang half way down his thighs..
My thoughts turned back to the station toilet, and Simon, and my excitement rose to fever pitch as I relived those few moments. Suddenly the head bobbing up and down on my cock was no longer Simon's: it was Jay. Jay was sucking my cock, the hair fair, not dark, the eyes blue, not green. He had my balls in his hand. He was pulling his cock out of his trousers. What would it be like? As my imagination took flight spunk spurted out of my throbbing cock and landed on my chest, the next on my bare belly and the rest dribbled out onto my boxers mingling with Simon's.
I heard the door handle turn. I pushed my cock inside my boxers. Uncle Jack appeared at the door. If he couldn't smell it, he could surely see the pool of spunk sitting on my chest and the outline of my still stiff cock in my underpants.
"Looks like you've been having fun," he said. "Don't worry, that's OK with me. We all do it. I did it every day when I was your age. Still do"
I was shocked. Sex had never entered our conversation before. But I had brought it on myself, although I was angry that he had barged in on me in a private moment.
I blushed.
"It just sort of happened," I mumbled.
"Forget it. I apologise for walking in on you. What you do with your dick is your business. You're old enough to know what it's for, and what to do with it. You might even make it grow a bit more, but from what I can see that is hardly necessary," he added with a wicked smile.
"I just came to say that dinner is ready. Come on down."
We didn't talk about it over dinner, or again, for which I was grateful. But the incident had made it harder for me to ask Jay over. The moment Uncle Jack saw him he would know the score. I told myself he would have known it anyway: he didn't have to catch me wanking to know what any 15 year old got up to. I would brazen it out.
"Uncle Jack," I ventured, "there's a boy from school who lives just round in Belgrave Street. Could I invite him over for tennis, do you think?'
"Of course," he replied. "What's his name?"
"Jamie, Jamie Strong."
"I know his father. His mother has just walked out on him."
"I know, Jamie mentioned it. He's a bit lonely, and low."
"Ring him now, and invite him for tomorrow. Or, I'll ring his Dad if you like."
"It's OK," I said, desperate to talk to Jay again, "I'll call, but if there's any problem I'll get his Dad to talk to you."
There was no problem. Mr Strong was delighted that his son would have company at this difficult time. Jamie would come over in the morning and stay for lunch.
That night I pulled off once more into my now starched boxers, thinking only of Jay. Once more it was his fair head bobbing up and down on my cock, his face I imagined covered with my spunk.
I lay there slightly depressed after I had come for the third time that day.
I'll have to get this thing under control. I was still into guilt. I'll have to wear these boxers the whole time, I thought. If Uncle Jack finds them he'll know just how much I do it. What if he told my parents that he had caught me wanking, and found my underpants stiff with spunk. I drifted off worried and guilty, and dreamt of Jamie. I woke with my cock stiff once more, demanding attention. I stroked it, but would not give in to it. I had to save my passion for Jay.
I took a cold shower and went down to breakfast. Uncle Jack was already there. He looked at me quizzically.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"Mm, not bad," I answered, with slight hesitation.
"You know what to do if you can't sleep," he said.
Here we go again, I thought. Interested as I was in all aspects of sex, and Uncle Jack's balls, I was not sure I was quite ready for this. I nodded vaguely. It was time to take diversionary action.
"Jay, will be here around 10.30. Will you be here?"
"No, I've got a meeting, but you boys can look after yourself and Mrs Levy will prepare lunch. I'll be home in time for dinner"
Mrs Levy was the daily who kept house for Uncle Jack.
Good, I thought, we will have the place to ourselves, apart from Ms Levy.
Uncle Jack left for the office, and I filled in time until Jamie arrived, getting changed for tennis and looking through Uncle Jack's books to see if there were any that looked steamy. There was one about life in an English boarding school which I noted for future browsing.. I read a bit about two 13 year olds falling in love, and my cock rose again.
On the dot of 10.30 I saw my vision of heaven walk up to the gate. He was dressed in white polo shirt and shorts, white socks and tennis shoes, carrying his tennis racquet. I stood at the window transfixed by his beauty, the sunlight catching his fair hair, and, below, his slender legs. I felt my cock stir, but I had other priorities. I rushed downstairs to open the door, my heart pounding.
I greeted him as if I had known him all my life.
"Come in," I said, trying to keep my voice from replicating the hammering of my heart.
"You look ready for anything," I gushed in my agitated state, and immediately regretted it.
He smiled up at me. I melted.
"I hope your not too good," he said disarmingly, " `cos I haven't had much practice lately. I hope I can give you a decent game."
I was neither good, nor was the game I had in mind considered decent by society.
But I was not going to articulate my thoughts at that moment.
"Would you like a drink before we play?" I asked.
"That'd be great. It was hot walking over."
We sat at the table in Uncle Jack's kitchen drinking lemon barley as I drank in the beauty of this boy.
"Nice house," he said, looking around.
"I imagine yours is too."
"Not bad. We've got a pool. You should come over for a swim."
"Love to."
"Shall we play?"
"Sure, let's go."
We strolled though the garden to the tennis court. It was apparent from the first few strokes that Jay was an accomplished player. I wondered whether I could beat him, being a bit older and more experienced.
Or should I, I thought, even if I can? I needn't have worried. Either because I was so mesmerised by his beauty, or constantly stripping him naked mentally, I played like a broken harmonica. He won the first set easily, the second not quite so, but convincingly.
"Gee, you're good, Jay," I said as we sat down on the bench outside the changing room.
"Beginner's luck. You seemed to be off your game a bit, Huw. I'm sure you'd beat me another time."
"We'll certainly play again. What about tomorrow?"
"And you can come over and have a swim at our place afterwards," Jay volunteered.
"That'd be great."
I got up to get a drink. When I sat down again, I did so as close as I could to Jay. As we tossed down our drink I let me knee drift towards his until our flesh touched. He did not move. I kept it there, trying to act as innocently as possible, despite the pounding of my heart. I pressed ever so gently against him. He didn't seem to notice, not make any attempt to pull away.
" Do you want to take a shower - I guess you've got a change of clothes. I asked in a voice which was far from steady."
"Yes, here in my bag. Where can we shower?"
"Right here. There's a dressing room with a couple of showers."
My heart was banging against the inside of my chest to the point where it sounded like an African drum. I wondered if Jay could hear it.
I gently put my hand on his bare thigh, looked into those extraordinary blue eyes and said:
"Let's go."
He returned my gaze with a smile as enigmatic as that of La Giaconda and remained seated.
I was in a state of total confusion, my heart seemingly out of control, my brain turned to water. My knees began to shake. I had to do something, so I stood up. Thank God, my cock was constrained within my jockstrap or it would have immediately revealed the state of my emotions to their object.
"In here," I managed to blurt out, tottering towards the door of the dressing room.
Jamie rose slowly and followed me in.
I sat on the bench inside and untied my laces and carefully removed my tennis shoes and socks. He did the same. The air was pregnant with our silence. I felt Jamie's eyes on me as I pulled my shirt over my head and stood there in my shorts, trying desperately to control the heaving of my chest. Our eyes met. He smiled again. Time seemed to have slowed down, his actions, duplicating mine, were taking place in slow-motion as his head disappeared inside his shirt and his torso was revealed. It was smooth and slightly tanned. I noticed a small blur of hair under his armpits.
I carefully undid the buttons on my shorts and began to lower them to the ground. I was conscious that my cock was straining inside my jockstrap, so that it bulged in a way which suggested equipment more serious than it usually presented. Good, I thought. I was rather ashamed of its small size when completely flaccid, but I did not want it to spring up and reveal the full extent of my excitement. Not just yet, anyway. Not until Jay was ready to step out of his briefs, the outline of which I had noticed under his shorts.
As I stepped out of my shorts, standing naked apart from my bulging jockstrap, Jamie began to unbutton his shorts. His eyes were cast downwards, concentrating on the mechanics of his buttons. I willed him to look up, cast an admiring glance at my bulge, but he didn't. I wondered if I had embarrassed him? Surely not, he's seen plenty of naked boys at school. But this was one-on-one, not a communal shower or dormitory. Did he suspect what I was feeling, what I was up to? Was he teasing me? Should I avert my eyes? My mind raced. I was at a loss as to what to do, so I just stood there, my cock slowly draining of the blood that engorged it and my bulge diminishing.
As I began to despair as to where all this was leading Jamie looked up as his shorts finally dropped to his feet, revealing the smooth and stunning symmetry of his body which matched the beauty of his face. Nestled at the base of his briefs was a substantial bulge.
"You wear a jockstrap."
It was half statement half question. I was not sure what to say.
"Always have, since I was 13," I replied. "I wear boxers so I don't have any briefs," I added lamely.
"Perhaps I should get one. I just use the briefs that I wear all the time."
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I said: "like to try mine."
"Would you mind?"
"'course not, if you don't mind it being a bit sweaty."
I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and slowly pulled it down. My cock was only slightly engorged by now, and did not embarrass me by springing up. But as I stood there naked, eyeing the bulge in Jamie's briefs I felt the blood flowing back into it.
I have one of those cocks that expands to over twice its normal size when engorged so any excitement that stirs it is immediately noticeable. I could hardly hide my feelings from Jamie for much longer.
I handed the slightly damp object over. He took it, and examined it carefully, then, still holding it, pulled down his briefs. It was the moment I had been anticipating since I first laid eyes on him only 24 hours earlier.
I was transfixed as his nakedness revealed all. I could not believe my eyes. His cock was huge, at least for a 13 year old. I guessed that it must be at least 4 inches, compared to my three, thick, and hung down over a smooth pair of balls which matched the dimensions of his penis. The only pubic hair was a slight smudge over his cock. The rest of his body was as smooth as the day he was born.
"I think you'll fill it better than I do," I said.
Although my cock had started to engorge it was still not as big as Jamie's, but it would not be long.
He looked at me fingering the jockstrap.
"Do you think so? You seemed to fill it pretty well."
"Try it on," I said.
He stepped into it and pulled it up to his waist, filling it with an admirable bulge.
"I like the feel," he said, stroking it on the outside. "I think I'll get one."
"I've got several. You can use mine for the moment," I said, scarcely able to contain my excitement at the thought of my jockstrap next to that beautiful body. My penis began to rise further at the thought. Should I turn away, I wondered, so as not to embarrass him? He was still stroking the jock strap, and the bulge inside seemed to be getting bigger. I decided to stand where I was notwithstanding that me cock was now almost at the horizontal.
He looked at me, his eyes firmly fixed on my growing member.
"I don't think I could compete with that."
I trembled with embarrassment.
"Sorry, I don't have much control over it sometimes - most times actually."
I decided to chance my arm. Jamie did not seem as innocent as he looked.
"I guess it was the thought of your cock inside my jockstrap."
He rubbed it more, and the bulge grew bigger. He slipped his hand down behind the elastic and adjusted the contents. When he removed his hand the outline of his penis, fully erect, reached to the waistband.
"Is that better?" he asked.
I did not need to reply. I took a step forward and reached out to feel the moist fabric, and the firm softness within. Simultaneously his hand touched my cock. An electric shock ran through me, hoisting my penis from horizontal to almost vertical, as if it were a railway signal responding to a switch. I felt his fist tighten around it, as I stroked the outside of my jockstrap and its wondrous contents.
In a moment we were in an embrace, still clutching each other's cocks, with our other arm encircling our bodies. My lips found his, and my tongue began to explore his perfect teeth.
My hand went down inside my jockstrap and found his flesh. I slid it down till it enveloped his smooth balls, the underside of his penis resting on my wrist. We must have stayed like that for a minute, or more.
"Oh, Jay," I said, coming up for air. "I love you."
I babbled on about loving him from the moment I first saw him on the station, of thinking about him ever since, until I'm sure he was as confused as I was.
He looked at me as if to say that he had that effect on most people.
"Thank you, Huw, you're very kind," he said, looking into my eyes. "I've wanted to meet you ever since I saw you make your hundred."
I could scarcely believe this was happening to me. I was totally overcome with lust. I could only think of taking all this to its logical conclusion and once more took him in my arms. This time my tongue found his mouth open and ready. I tore my jockstrap away and began to stroke him. His penis was around six inches, at full stretch. It had not expanded as much as I had expected and, as I held them together in my hand, I noticed was shorter than mine by about an inch but about the same circumference. His balls hung lower than mine, and were hairless like the rest of his body, whereas mine already had a light fuzz over most of it as well as my cock and balls being quite hairy.
I sunk to my knees and took its rigid length in my mouth, the whole of it. I had practiced deep throat on Simon, who was almost as big, and could now do it without gagging. My mind was filled with the thought of my mouth being filled with the essence of this beautiful human being. My hands reached behind him and felt the smooth, firm cheeks of his bum. I allowed the fingers of one hand explore his crack as the other ran gently over the cheeks, around to the front and started to fondle his balls. I felt his cock stiffen in my mouth as my finger found his secret place. He flinched, so I withdrew.
I felt the vein on the underside of his penis pulsate against my lips. His slender body began to heave. I prepared myself for the moment the first wave of his adolescent spunk would surge through his penis and pour onto my eager palate. Spurt after spurt filled my mouth with the sweetest cum I had ever tasted. I rolled it around my mouth savouring every drop and, as Jay let out a long, loud. moan, the firm flesh of his bum quivered in my hand.
I knew I could not contain myself an instant longer. I stood up, letting his still tumescent cock flop out of my mouth followed by a dribble of spunk from the end. I disgorged the rest from my mouth into my right hand. I looked down at my cock, standing proudly, quivering with anticipation.
"No, let me," I heard Jay say, as he moved swiftly behind me and my grabbed my cock with his right hand as he pressed his body against mine. I felt his still half erect penis slide between the cheeks of my bum. In his left hand he held my jockstrap that he had grabbed from the bench. A shaft of light coming through the high window of the change room caught my cock, glistening with his spunk and danced over the pouch of the jockstrap. As Jay's hand slid the length of my cock every nerve in my body seemed to be centred in its tip as I felt the first surge of spunk leaving my balls and starting its short path into the outside world.
Jay felt it too, and pressed my penis down until it was pointed directly into the pouch.
"In there," he cried, as he masturbated me furiously and thrust his body against mine.
I could feel his cock, still moist with his cum, sliding up and down my crack. My first spurt shot forth with huge energy and hit the bottom of the pouch. More followed, spurt after spurt, each one racking my body as if its entire mass was trying to force its way through that narrow slit carrying the seed of life, until a small pool had formed, reflecting back the sunlight as a golden coin on Jay's hand.
I cried out in ecstasy as the feelings slowly subsided.
"Oh, Jay, Jay, what have you done to me. I have never had a climax like that."
"Nor me," he said, as we both flopped exhausted onto the bench.
We embraced and kissed. He was still holding the jockstrap filled with my spunk.
We sat in silence for several minutes, I wondering at the sensuality of the boy beside me who looked so innocent.
"I guess we had better have a shower and wash that," I said, pointing to the jockstrap.
Jay looked at me and smiled that extraordinary, enigmatic smile that was so fatally attractive.
"No, I want to keep it. Please Huw, may I keep it. You said you had another. I want to remember this moment forever."
"Of course," I said.
How could I refuse. The very thought of him forever lavishing love on my leavings excited me. I had done the same with the handkerchief with which I had tenderly wiped the first sperm that Simon had left on my hand a few months earlier, and the boxers into which the previous day he had poured his youthful energy.
Jamie stood up.
"I'm going to wear it," he announced, and stepped into the jockstrap still reeking of my sperm, although it had now turned clear.
He walked in front of me proudly displaying his bulge within the damp covering. I was fascinated by the thought of my sperm only millimetres from where his large beautiful balls were generating squillions of their own every second. Would they one day spawn somone as beautiful as him, I wondered.
"Oh, Jay, I love you." I could think of nothing more original to say, but it was at least sincere.
"I will remember this moment forever."
And I have
Postscript
There was more that happened that day and over that Easter - perhaps I will record that one day. But that first 24 hours in which I met and made love to Jamie was a defining moment in my life. Our affair lasted for another four years, mainly during school holidays. The casualty was my love for Simon, which withered and died. Jamie and I exchanged confidences that we shared with no other, and I came to know and admire him as a person. As our relationship matured, emotionally and psychologically, I watched his body mature from the beautiful boy, through handsome youth to gorgeous young man. Soon after he reached university he began to take an interest in the women who threw themselves at his feet. I was not jealous; I was trying to do the same, albeit with less conviction, and stunningly less success than he; besides which I loved him too much; I revelled in his sexuality as we exchanged experiences.
There was one brief encounter when I was 22, and he 20, after my final University Ball when our partners had, understandably, abandoned us for being less sober than we should have been. The magic was still there. We lay in a long embrace and slowly brought each other to a climax.
Our ways then parted. I met him again 20 years later when I moved to a new job. The passionate boy I had known had become the passionate man, father of four of the most beautiful children one could imagine. My love for him had not diminished, but apart from an occasional shared smile over some idle remark, there was no intimacy, no references to our youthful love. Our families became close. My eldest son and his were about the same age,13, and became inseparable companions. I often wondered whether their relationship reached the level of passion that their fathers' had at that age. But that was their business, not mine.