Rodin's Tale

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Rodin's Tale

 Rated: X

As a public schoolboy in the UK during the seventies, I'd heard some boys did sex things with the other boys at private schools and boarding schools and such places. All us younger boys had heard that. So when I got the rare chance to attend such a private school, I knew about it, but I had no idea I would experience it - or enjoy it so very much.
- Rodin

I was a typical Brit-Anglo schoolboy: blond hair, brown eyes, pale complexion. Fairly fit and pretty strong, though I was small. I loved playing rugby. And I was good, even though small. Half-back, of course. Lots of kids who played against me said I was way stronger than I looked. I earned good grades, was good looking, and fairly popular. Girls liked me due to my prowess on the field as well as my grades and my looks. I had plenty of friends and was sure I was going to have a popular dating life. Things were great!

By the time I was twelve, in the seventies, I was masturbating and had a little hair around it, sort of like peach-fuzz. I loved playing with my own little cock. I couldn't wait to start dating and getting some action. I was having wet dreams (about girls) and wet orgasms. I know I was having wet orgasm when I was still living at home because Mum talked to me about the stains I made on my pillow - probably the most embarrassing event in my life so far!

I used to make a little indent in the pillow with my finger, and then put my little cock in the space, and I would pretend it was my prettiest girl classmate and hump it. So, at night, alone in bed, before I left for school, I had trouble sleeping if I didn't.

At that time, I won a rugby scholarship to a very exclusive private school. I got that scholarship because I was very good at footy and very bright as well. They would pay for my fees, tuition, board and food. My parents and I were so hugely proud and pleased. My friends were so glad for me, though we were a bit sad that we wouldn't be going to classes together any longer.

The other boys at the private school wouldn't know I was on scholarship. I was glad of that! They probably wouldn't believe it anyway, because I was so small. And they'd probably hate me for not being from the moneyed class. That was my only real concern about attending that school. I was popular and well-liked enough that I wasn't worried on the social front - only that I would be discovered as a 'poor kid' on a scholarship.

Before I attended the private school, everyone wore speedos or briefs under our footy shorts and we all showered at home. Now, at this school, they had excellent changing rooms with great shower and spa facilities, and we were all expected to change and shower there. I wasn't all that worried about it, until we all stripped the first time. I didn't look around, as I wasn't interested in boys at all. But, suddenly, they were all making fun of how small my cock was. I didn't understand until I looked around. I loved my little cock, and thought it was pretty great, but when I looked around, I saw why. My tiny one hung above my balls, and my little peach fuzz was nothing. These guys almost all had way longer cocks, and much more hair, with way bigger balls hanging down. I was just a boy by comparison.

I wasn't the only one who had a smaller cock. Some of the other boys also had small dicks too. Some boys were still twelve, like me, though most were thirteen or older. The difference was that the other boys with small dicks didn't have any hair at all, while I did have a small patch of peach-fuzz around mine. I guess that made mine seem so small.

I was being teased about my lack of size by the bigger boys in no time. I really hated that. Here I was, a skilled player at a great school, and I was being treated like a little kid. They teased me in the changing room after every practice. I wasn't used to that at all. I'd always been popular and liked before. Now I wasn't the 'big man on campus.' In fact, I was the 'small boy on campus.' And having it pointed out every day was painful.

I still made some friends, it wasn't all bad or horrible or anything. Even the guys who teased me in the changing rooms still treated me fairly well on the field and around the school. They pretty much had to! I was good. Too good to piss off and make me quit. And I was a nice guy. I got along well with others, and won over many. But they still joined in teasing me, for the most part. Some more than others.

One of the guys who didn't join in on the teasing was Terry, the team captain. He played outside-center, and he was a star player as well. He was that ideal male, you know? Extremely handsome, athletic build, great muscle tone, black hair, blue eyes. Well tanned. Extremely quick. Very serious. Very popular. He was thirteen, barely a year older than me, but he was so much more developed and masculine. His cock wasn't the largest in the showers, but it wasn't anything like as small as mine. And he had a lot of black hair around it. Even his balls hung nicely.

After one particularly rough teasing by the other boys about my small privates, he comforted me. He told me that the other guys were just jealous I was such a good player. He made me feel much better about myself, but I was homesick and really disappointed that I was being bullied - by the other players on my own team! - while I was playing such good football.

As the days and weeks went by, it was so hard to stay on the team. I loved playing, and I was so good at it, but it was so difficult to live with the teasing and bullying. Some of the guys were less rude about it, but others were obviously enjoying it a great deal. If it weren't for Terry, I might have quit the team and become a complete recluse. But Terry really befriended me. He talked to me like we were friends. Not always in front of everyone, I knew why, but when we were able to be alone, he was always friendly and nice. We became pretty good friends, and soon he became my best friend. In the following weeks, though, he also became my knight in shining armor. He would defend me and get the guys to lay off whenever he could.

I was still lonely, I have to tell you. New school and all, no friends from home at all. Nothing familiar. All strange and different. Sometimes I felt all alone.

The season started, and I was playing well despite the jokes and embarrassment I new I would suffer in the changing rooms after the games. After several matches and quite a few episodes of bullying about my small penis I broke down in front of everyone. They were doing the regular teasing, like "Teeny peeny" and other stupid phrases. They were like little kids! Why couldn't they grow up?

It was too much this time. Too many times. I broke down crying and ran to my room.

I was still crying in my room much later, alone, when someone knocked on the door. It was rather late. I almost didn't answer it, but I did. It was Terry. He stepped in and closed the door.

"Don't worry about the teasing. The guys are just being guys. They'll drop it sooner or later."

"It's not just the bullying!" I almost yelled. "I miss my Mum, Dad, brother and sister. My friends. Everything!'

Terry sat down next to me on my bed and hugged me and let me cry on his shoulder.

I'd never been in such a situation before. I wondered if this was how the boys I saw bullied at my old school felt. It was horrible. I was glad I wasn't one of the kids that teased others. But it was more than just the teasing, though that was a big part of it. I really did miss my old life, my parents, my brother and sister, my friends, my room, and that stability and safety and regularity. And I missed being the top dog. Here, at this school, I was a top player, yes, but I wasn't top dog all around, like I'd been back home. Here I was one of the small kids, with small privates, and no roots or control or standing.

It was also very new to be crying in front of someone my own age like that. And even more new and strange for that someone to be comforting me. It was really something. He was the team captain! I mean, here was the team captain, in my room, holding me as I cried, telling me comforting things. It was so... sweet? Definitely touching. Very nice indeed. None of my old friends had done such a thing. But I'd never been in such a situation before.

Everything was just so different and new and unstable and strange. Especially being hugged and comforted... by the team captain who was barely older than me, just a boy too. So strange.

"It's going to be just fine," he whispered. "You'll see. You're bloody good. They know it. They're just jealous of you!"

I'd never cried on a boy's shoulder before, let alone been in his arms. It was oddly comforting. Very much so. New and strange and... rather very nice.

"I just wish I didn't have such a small cock," I sobbed. "Then they wouldn't have anything to make fun of!"

"You might have the smallest cock, but it's the prettiest cock of all the boys."

That's a strange thing to say, I thought. But it was nice of him to say.

"You know," he said softly, "As you get older it'll grow bigger."

"Yeah," I agreed reluctantly.

I was sobbing so much! I felt like such a baby.

"Would you like me to stay with you a while?"

I thought that would be wonderful. I nodded against his chest. He held me until I stopped crying, and then we talked. Mostly about footy and games and other teams and girls and all the typical things boys talk about. It got late. It would be lights out very soon.

"You want me to stay?" he asked.

I nodded, and said, "Yeah, thanks. That would be great."

When we were ready to go to sleep, he undressed, fully, as he didn't have anything to go to bed in. It wasn't like he came ready to stay the night. I changed into my pyjamas. I saw his huge member again, hanging and swinging as he walked toward my bed. I just looked at that beautiful cock and wished I had one just like it instead of what I did have. I was jealous, I guess. Hell, if I had one like his, no one would have anything to tease me about!

He got into my bed and snuggled up to my back with one arm over me. It was wonderful to be held. Strange, too, but so wonderful. For the first time since I left home I felt safe and welcomed and wanted.

And there was the new feeling of a warm body against mine. In my own bed, too. That was so... cuddly and warm and just f'ing nice.

It wasn't long before I felt something poking at my bottom. I put my hand behind me to move whatever it was - it shocked me tremendously when I felt his huge cock in my hand. Erect. It felt so big. I snatched my hand away.

"Wow!" he sighed in my ear. "Put your hand back! That felt amazing!"

While it seemed really strange and kind of scary, his cock had felt rather interesting in my hand. And if it made him feel better, after making me feel so much better, than that was fine. So, I slowly reached back and grasped it again. So hard. So soft, too. So warm. It had to be six inches, as it filled my fist and I had room to stroke it as well as I started to rub him.

I slid my hand up and down along his long, meaty cock, luxuriating in the feeling of it. I could feel the hair at the base. It was so much longer than mine, far longer than my fist. I was so impressed.

I'd never ever considered doing such a thing! It was... well, you know. But... there was something about doing it. I didn't know what. I don't think I even thought about it to that extent. I just knew I was making him feel good, after he'd made me feel so much better. And, to be honest, I liked doing it. There was something pleasurable about holding his hard cock, and stroking it's impressive length - the feeling of that mass and weight and girth.

Feeling his warm, solid, beefy cock in my hand was really nice. More than just nice. It was like nothing I'd felt before. It made my stomach roll over and my own dick swell to fully erect.

Oh my God! Was I doing something wrong? Was this bad? Should I stop?

But I didn't want to stop. It felt good. It felt good in my hand, it felt good in my guts, it felt good in my own now throbbing little cock.

After just a moment or two, I felt the pre-cum at the tip. It was so warm and slippery. And it felt so good too!

Then I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck.

One of his hands was on my waist, the other hand was under my neck, cradling it.

I loved this! It felt more than just good. There was something more than just pleasure to it. The feeling of his hand on my hip and beneath my neck were more than mere contact. They were warm and comforting and secure. And then there was the feeling of his hard, big cock in my hand as it ran along that considerable length. The way he breathed onto my neck, all warm and soft... the way I felt inside... the way my own little cock was pounding and probably leaking...

I wish I could say it lasted ages, but it was actually pretty quick when he sort of grunted and his big cock began jumping and bending in my hand as he came all over the seat of my pyjamas. I could feel it hitting the soft material against my bum, and I could feel it on my fingers, so warm and slippery. It felt wonderful! I'd never caused someone to have an orgasm before, and knowing I had, made me both proud and happy. Not to mention a kind of fulfillment I'd never experienced before, or even suspected existed.

"Oh!" he sighed, then said, "I'm sorry! I got it all over you pyjamas. You better take them off. You don't want to sleep in them."

His cum was already soaking through and onto my bum. I got up and took them off. The room was dark, but enough light came in through the window that I could see his cock was still hard and dribbling the last of his cum from the tip.

"Lay down on your back, huh?" he said.

I did, and he reached out toward me. I gasped out loud as my hard little cock vanished into his big hand. I was totally stunned.

I couldn't believe this! I'd actually jacked off a guy, and now he was going to jack me off!

My little cock was bouncing inside his fist as it began sliding up and down on it. His hand was so warm and soft, but still so firm and strong. And so big!

My entire body was filled with tingling excitement and sexual energy! It was so much better than when I did it myself! It was almost too intense to bear! It tickled and tingled and throbbed and pulsed - and it was simply magnificent! More than I could have ever expected! Far, far better than doing it myself. Impossibly so!

How can anything feel so wonderful?

Everything he did, in every way he did it, just felt so incredible!

I'd enjoyed giving him pleasure, I'd even gotten some pleasure from it myself - but the pleasure he was giving me was nearly unbearable! His warm, soft, silky hand stroked my little cock faster and faster, harder and harder, and my body responded with tension and pleasure and an overwhelming urge. I believe I held my breath the entire time!

Oh, God! How does it feel so good?

That wonderful feeling as his hand rubbed my incredibly hard little cock built and built, and then suddenly I was ejaculating like never before. All over my pyjama top. I was gasping and panting and nearly laughing. It was the most amazing thing ever! My legs were kicking around and my little cock was thrashing within his warm, soft-but-firm fist as it smeared my cum all over it.

"OH GOD! STOP!" I almost yelled, grabbing his hand and holding it still before I lost my fucking mind!

My body trembled and my breath was ragged. I felt a relief I'd never know before and couldn't have possibly foreseen. It was like I was whole, for the first time.

My cum was soaking into the material of my pyjama top, and I had to take that off too. Now I was completely naked, in my bed with another completely naked boy. The smell of our spunk filled the air, along with a bit of our sweat. I laid down with my head on his chest and his arms around me. It was so perfect. I loved it!

So many new sensations! Being held in his arms earlier, his comforting words, the feeling of his acceptance of me despite my childish crying, his arms around me in my bed, his warm body against mine, his cock in my hand, sliding through my hand, his cum on my hand, his hand on my cock, my cum smeared around my little cock by a hand not my own, the sensation of an orgasm not of my own work, his warm, solid body beneath my head, his soft skin beneath my hand, his arm around me...

All boys knew some boys did things with other boys at places like this. No one at the school talked about it, except to call those boys 'girlfriends' and 'sex friends'. They mostly pretended it didn't exist. But we all knew.

I didn't know why. Didn't really care why. It had nothing to do with me.

Now I knew why. I had thought it was just something boys did. Probably just needed to take care of the urge.

No. It was more than that. At least, it could be more than that.

I'd just experienced more than that.

It was far more than just getting off. It wasn't just jacking yourself off with someone else's hand. It was far more than just taking care of an urge. I didn't know exactly what it was, for sure, but it was.

It was fucking brilliant!

I slept in his arms, naked, all night. I know right then I fell in love with him. I wondered if all the boys fell in love with other boys like this.

In the morning, when we woke up, we talked, of course. He said we mustn't let anyone know what we had done. We both knew it was best kept secret. We both knew we shouldn't let anyone know about it. And we agreed we shouldn't do it again. It would be horrible if we were caught. Others were, and it wasn't pleasant for them. We wanted to avoid a similar fate and similar teasing. Hell, I was being teased enough about my small cock, I didn't need even more teasing!

I was hurt that he didn't want to do it again. I was hard and ready, and wanted to do it again right then. But he hurriedly dressed as we talked.

Then he kissed me. Proper kissing, like a boy and a girl. It was simply amazing! The best kiss ever!

Then he left. Quickly, after making sure he wouldn't be seen leaving.

I was left with a surging erection. I'd never, ever, thought of a boy when I masturbated before. Ever. Only girls. But that morning, only Terry was in my mind as I did it. It was a glorious orgasm, thinking of Terry and what we'd done just hours before.

We had agreed to be normal. Especially in front of everyone. So we were just normal friends and good footballers. However, nearly every waking moment I spent thinking about his beautiful cock and his big hand pulling on my little cock. And every time I masturbated, my mind was filled with the memories of what we'd done. My masturbation was better than ever.

It was a little easier to ignore the boys' teasing after that night. Mostly because Terry and I became such good friends on and off the field. The other boys laid off, or just got bored when I didn't react so much anymore. Or because I was now obviously friends with the team captain - and the both of us were the best on the team. So things were slightly better.

The only real trouble was how I felt about Terry now. I'd had plenty of friends, sure, but none like Terry. I felt so close to him now. Terry seemed to mean more to me than any of my previous friends. I was in love with him, in a way. But I wasn't gay, and I'm not now. But I sure believe that was actually in love with him. Of a sort. And, God, he was gorgeous! So it was very hard to deal with that at times. There were times we were out and about with others, and the idea of what we'd done suddenly interrupted and it was all I could think about. And in those times, I would feel such a warmth and glow seeing him as he talked and smiled and just went about his normal routine. Seeing him on the field, too, in his kit, sometimes would make me hard and horny, and I'd feel those deep, intense, longing pangs for him, for his body, for that closeness and companionship and joy - and the sex.

Yes, boys can love boys, and not be gay. I know that now. I didn't then, and that caused so much concern and worry and confusion.

We talked about it a couple of times over the next couple of days. He didn't want to do it again. He was worried we would be found out. So was I, but I sure wanted to do it again.

A lot of the boys in private schools in those days did pair up - if you stayed very long in another boy's room, everyone knew it was probably sexual. We wanted to avoid that. I understood. But it was still so unfair and so hard.

Imagine my surprise, when, one night, after dinner and before bedtime, there was a knock on my door. I had no idea who it could be. I opened the door, and there was Terry, his face red, breathing a little hard.

He stepped in, took the door from my hand and closed it. Then he stepped up to me, and to my complete shock, kissed me!

His lips moved against mine, and in seconds, I was hard and breathing hard, and our arms were around each other again. It was absolutely fantastic! My body was on fire!

"I can't stay long, or someone'll figure it out, right?"

"Yes," I breathed into his lips.

He undid his school pants, shoved them and his briefs down, and then placed my hand on his hard, hot cock. I almost whimpered in sheer pleasure as I felt his heavy meat in my hand again.

It was so big! So hard! So soft, too! It was pure bliss to hold his member again. At some point, I grabbed his balls and held and fondled them as well. The sheer bliss of having his hard cock in one hand and his heavy balls in my other as we kissed is indescribable!

His hand found my groin and rubbed my little cock through the material. God, it felt so good!

It didn't take long. It was hurried and frantic and rushed. And fucking wonderful! He sighed heavily into my mouth, and I felt his cock thrashing in my hand. I felt his jism splashing onto my school shirt. I hardly cared at all. I was wrapped in bliss, enjoying his orgasm as his big cock raged in my hand. Spurts of his hot semen began soaking through my shirt. I didn't care at all. I liked it. I loved it! I loved getting him off!

Nearly as soon as it was over, after a few more kisses, he let go of my still-clothed groin, bent over and pulled up his briefs and trousers, and hurriedly fastened them. His face was so reddened! His grin was so wide.

"Would you like to come home with me over vacation in a couple of weeks?" he asked out of nowhere.

I instantly knew why he asked. It was too good to be true!

I nearly threw my arms around his shoulders and kissed him again, but all I could manage was a shocked nod of my head and a wide grin.

"Great! Bril!" he said, fastening his trousers and then straightening his shirt and tie. "See you later, eh?"

And he was gone. That quickly. Less than five minutes. Probably far less than five minutes. But it was five glorious minutes!

I understood. If he'd stayed longer, someone would suspect. We didn't want that at any cost. Even this cost.

I was standing there with an incredibly insistent erection and his cum soaking through my school shirt. In seconds I was on my bed with my trousers down. I was shocked at the wet spot in my undies. I must have leaked enough pre-cum to almost be an orgasm!

Or so I thought until I had that orgasm! It was easily as huge as when he'd stroked me off that night a couple of days ago. It was immensely strong and intense and satisfying! Maybe it was helped by the scent of his semen on my shirt, which I kept beneath my nose almost the entire time I stroked my little dick.

He'd come back! We'd done it again! Only he had gotten off this time, but that just didn't matter to me. He'd gotten off.. by my hand! How wonderful!

And he'd invited me to come home with him on vacation!

My imagination went wild with the possibilities! If only it were his intention! It had to be, right? We had become pretty great friends, so maybe it was just that? Maybe he didn't intend there be any dallying around? Oh, I so hoped there would be!

I was just as shocked when he returned a few days later. It was a repeat of the last time. He stepped in, closed the door, we kissed, he took his trousers and underwear down, and I stroked him off as we kissed. I managed to get my own clothes off this time, hoping he would stroke me off as well. He did stroke me, but not to completion. As he began squirting this time, I aimed his cock downward and at my own little cock. HIs cum splashed onto my stomach the first time, but the second and following spurts landed on my little cock! It felt amazing!

Nearly as soon as he was done, he pulled his pants up. I was left standing there with a powerful erection covered in his semen, more of his warm seed running down my belly.

"See you tomorrow!" he smiled, and left.

I nearly jumped onto my bed and tasted his cum. It was so good! Then I masturbated furiously, using his warm, slippery semen as lube on my short little dick. It was fantastic! The smell and the taste of his warm cum was pure pleasure on top of my own physical pleasure. It was just wonderful!

He returned after dinner several more times over the next couple of weeks. He sometimes touched or toyed with my hard little cock, even took it out more than once, but he never really jacked me or got me off. Nearly as soon as he finished, he hurriedly dressed and left, and I was left alone to take care of myself. I loved using his fresh, warm cum as lube on my own little dick as I masturbated furiously. I always tasted some of it first. I loved his semen! Those were always the most amazing orgasm ever!

I didn't mind that he wasn't getting me off. I had no concept of reciprocation, I only knew I really enjoyed getting him off and then getting myself off with his semen. I loved doing it to him. I wished he'd do it more often, but I was so happy with what did happen. We feared people discovering our secret, so he would come to my room very briefly and very rarely.

I loved it, but I hated that it was so quick and furtive. Does that make sense?

Besides, I still had my fantasies and my own little cock.

I still had wet dreams about girls, but when Terry came for a special visit - when he kissed me - I would leak so much pre-cum! I couldn't understand why my undies were so wet after he'd left and I got around to taking care of my own needs. I didn't just enjoy what I did with Terry those few times at school - I loved it. Yet, I was fully attracted to girls. I didn't find other boys sexy or attractive - just girls. And just Terry.

I simply cannot describe how he made me feel. Or how the intimacy with him made me feel. It was satisfying in a way I have no words to convey. I felt whole and loved, happy and contended. He was so much more than a friend. He was something beyond a friend. Yet, he wasn't a boyfriend. Not in the sense of today. We weren't gay. Neither of us. We were horny boys helping each other out, and yet it was so much more than that. To me, anyway. He made me feel wonderful!

And he had invited me to his house for the school holiday!

I was sure we both knew why, or, rather, what for, but we never said as much.

It was there, away from school and the other boys, that we actually became lovers.

I went on to uni and met my wife there. He went back to the family's farm property and married a girl from the town there. We lost touch. Stupid, I know. But the internet and email didn't exist, and neither did cell phones or texting. We simply lost touch.

Terry, and what we did, and what we had, seemed so different from and so separate from anything having to do with girls. Or even sex, really. It was deep and potent, indeed. Yes. But it wasn't the same as sex with girls seemed it to be. Not to me. I often wonder what it was to him. Clearly I was his girl. I never minded that at all. I was glad and pleased to be his girl. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I believe I loved him.

If you would like to read what happened following this, you can read part two next week here at Nifty.

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