This is the seventh part of a story about adolescent boys' sexual experimentation in an Australian boarding school. To get the most from it the reader should read Parts 1-6 first.
SYNOPSIS
The story so far concerns the first love of a sexually experienced 14 y.o. boy, Huw, for a beautiful and talented 13 y.o. new boy, Simon who, unknown to Huw, is also experienced, having had regular sex with his friend Jamie since they were in the junior school, and with Rabbit, a sexual predator, with whom he has a love-hate relationship, as well as being interfered with by a junior school master. The young and talented Assistant Housemaster, Donald Swan (The Duck) haunted by his infatuation with teenage boys, who has already seduced one boy, Johno, has also noticed Simon. Huw has had his first tantalising physical encounter with Simon on the bus coming home from a cricket match. This has aroused the jealousy of others, and Donald Swan has asked a prefect, Lindsay, who also violated Johno as a youngster, to give Huw a friendly warning. Swan himself has become increasingly infatuated with Simon, but is trying to resist temptation. Huw is confused and worried but suggests to Simon that they cool their relationship. Simon continues his activities in the junior dormitory; Huw and Johno get together. Simon then gets entangled with Swan, or vice versa, first innocently, the for real in Swan's study. Johno barges in on them and agonizes over who to tell. Got it?
Now read on - unless you are under age, or prohibited by the law of your country from reading such material. And don't take it too seriously, especially the unsafe sex, as it is fiction which is set some years back, and hopefully bears no relationship to actual persons.
If you would like to provide feedback, on this, the author's first work of fiction it would be welcome.
Simon's Seduction - Part 7
Simon lay on the sofa in Mr Swan's study in a daze, the warm stickiness of the sperm the thirteen year old boy had just ejaculated congealing in his underpants. That of the Assistant House Master was growing cold and resolving slowly into a clear viscous mass on his hand and face. Donald Swan stood there like a frozen statue, all libido drained from him by the awful realisation that he had been caught, in flagrante delicto by his other boy lover in the boarding house, Johno.
The usual warm afterglow of sex had given way to the cold reality of his situation. His infatuation with handsome teenagers, and lack of control over his sexuality, had placed his career as a schoolmaster in jeopardy. True he had resisted Simon's intentions when it was clear that the boy had determined to take their intimacy beyond the bounds of a normal master-pupil relationship. He had, he told himself, tried to explain to Simon the incident where he had embraced him, and orgasmed, when trying to comfort him in the school corridor, and how boys found love through their developing sexuality. But this seemed to have only spurred Simon on, and in any event who would ever believe him that this beautiful boy had seduced him, in his own study!
He turned to Simon.
"Simon, you had better clean up and get back to study. I'm sorry for what happened. I should never have allowed it. I love you Simon and I don't want you to get hurt. I shall speak to Johno, and explain as best I can. He is a good boy, and I'm sure he won't let on what he saw; at least I hope so. We shall need to talk more about this when we have both had a chance to reflect on what you did," Swan said, subtly shifting the onus onto Simon.
Simon cast his eyes down, confused and upset, but warmed by the knowledge that this man, that he admired so much, loved him.
"I'm …I'm….I'm….sorry, Sir. It was my fault. You didn't want it to happen. You said so. I just, sort of, got carried away by what you had said to me about love."
He hesitated.
"I've done this sort of thing with some of the other boys," he confessed, eyes still downcast.
Swan noticed his spunk still glistening on Simon's cheek.
"That's alright, Simon, we've all done that. But you must clean up. Here's my handkerchief. Wipe your face and hands. You had better wash too. We can talk about it later," Swan replied evenly, his heart racing at the thought of Simon sharing his adolescent sexual adventures with him.
Simon did as he was told, and idly put the handkerchief in his pocket. He turned and gazed into Mr Swan's face.
Suddenly he flung his arms around Swan's waist and cried: "I love you too."
"You must go now, Simon," Swan said gently, easing the boy away, and opening the study door.
Simon turned and looked once more into Swan's eyes before heading down the passage to the study room.
Swan turned back to his desk. The responsible schoolmaster in him was appalled at what had just happened. At a deeper level in his psyche Swan's lust remained unquenched. His knowledge of Simon's naked body remained confined to glimpses in the shower. He wanted to run his hands over his smooth, naked skin; to feel those exquisite nipples; kiss that beautiful mouth, with their tongues meeting in a passionate embrace; see Simon's perfectly proportioned cock thicken, grow and stand, the head emerge from the foreskin as it slid back; taste the musk of an adolescent boys crotch, the drop of precum milked from the head. It had been satisfying to penetrate the defences of this adolescent boy and witness the emergence of his latent sexuality, but there was more territory to conquer. The image of Simon's smooth round arse that he had seen in the showers floated through his head.
Fantasies of their next encounter slowly replaced the image of Simon's bum. He would place his massive cock between Simon's silky legs, as his lips gently kissed those unshaven cheeks, he ran his tongue across Simon's eyelids, down the perfectly formed nose, to meet his lips and embrace his sweet young tongue. He would shove his engorged penis back and forth, Simon's thighs lubricated by the precum flowing from it. He would feel Simon's legs tighten around him, and he would whisper in Simon's ear that this was how a man fucked a woman, a fact that he knew only from books.
He would work his tongue down Simon's neck, to his nipples and gently suck them one by one, as his fucking became more urgent. He would feel Simon's erection pressing against his belly; five inches of boy-flesh, ready to lubricate their writhing bodies with his boy-spunk. He felt his body tense again as he thought of the moment when, overcome with lust, he would disgorge spurt after spurt of spunk against the smooth crack of Simon's arse as an overwhelming orgasm wracked his body and Simon's at the same time.
Then reality interrupted his reverie: "What would he say to Johno? What if he blabbed." Just as well it had been Johno, he would understand. Besides no other boy would have taken the liberty of walking in uninvited: only Johno because he had been welcomed into that same room many times since their first encounter at the scout camp.
At least once a week Swan would find Johno on his doorstep, trousers bulging, waiting for Swan's mouth to envelop his adolescent cock once more in his warm mouth, and fondle his soft balls in his large hand. Johno was, too, fascinated by the manly dimensions of Swan's cock, would admire the well-shaped head and curving shaft as he ran his small hand up and down its length and watch fascinated as spurt after spurt of spunk curved up in great arcs and then diminished to a dribble over his hands as Johno bought the master to a shaking climax.
Johno's needs were purely physical, animal, the urgent need of a teenage boy to empty his swelling balls. Swan sensed that the relationship with Simon would be different. Simon was his intellectual equal, and clearly had emotional needs that had driven him into Swan's arms that night. Besides Johno was growing up. He no longer had the sweet bloom of the pubescent boy, but was rapidly turning into another just good looking youth who did not arouse Swan's lust in the same way.
Oh, God, what had he done, Swan thought? Another boy! How could he survive the mess that his lust, now seemingly out of control, had created? He may as well have fucked this boy at midday in the middle of the main sports oval, he thought, for all the chance he had, in this place, of keeping secret what had happened. On the optimistic side, it was one thing for the news to spread among the boys, and the rumours among the masters, so long as they did not breach the high threshold of tolerance which surrounded such activity, but quite another for it to reach the ears of the Headmaster officially. Simon, and Johno, he calculated would be complicit in his deed. After all he had not raped the boy: he hadn't even fucked him - yet.
And so his mind ran on constructing his defences against the day or reckoning, if and when it came. At the same time, as he lay in his bed that night, the eight inches of cock that had led him into this situation, firmly in hand, responding to his stroking, Donald Swan thought back over his time in the boarding house, and thoughts which had stimulated his masturbatory fantasies since those days floated once more through his mind.
He remembered how, in his final year, as a prefect, he had had a bet with George, with whom he shared a study, on who would first seduce Hudson, the best looking new boy in the junior dorm that year. He had been jealous, but stirred, when George had described in lurid detail, breathless and flushed with excitement, how he had lured Hudson into the guest room, pulled down the trousers of the 13 year old, taken his immature cock in his mouth and sucked him to a climax, as George, his cock out, masturbating wildly, had shot his load all over the polished floor. Young Donald had had a raging erection by the time George finished recounting the details of Hudson's response.
Donald remembered how he had run his hand up the leg of George's shorts. George had had a long thin, uncut cock which Donald had only got to know when they shared a study, despite having been in the same dorm throughout their time in the boarding house. In those years he had resisted the temptations that the other boys had succumbed to, realising, Donald had concluded, that his religious upbringing had made him terrified of his sexuality. Donald had gained George's confidence when they became study-mates by revealing his own fantasies and conquests, and finally getting a response one night by pulling out his cock and openly masturbating as he had told George how many boys he had fucked in the four years he had spent in the boarding house.
George had unburdened himself about his own fantasies, and Donald seeing the bulge in his pants, had lent over, felt it, slowly unbuttoned George's fly and brought out the bright red cock-head, foreskin drawn right back, glistening with precum. Excited at finally taking a boy whose virginity had lasted until he was 17 in that homosexual hothouse, Donald's cock had erupted, the first jet of his spunk forming an arc that fell on George's cock which spilt the contents of his balls simultaneously over Donald's hand. They had finished in a warm embrace, cocks out of flies, cum all over each other's hands, George humiliated with shame at what he had done as his orgasm faded. But the threshold had been crossed and he and Swan thereafter had sex almost every night in their study.
The next day Donald, assuming the role of the responsible prefect, had called Hudson to his study to talk about his seduction. Hudson had shyly made it clear that he knew all about his wager with George. Donald had been perplexed - lecturing this boy was no longer an option. He had leant over and kissed him gently on the forehead. Hudson had looked up at him with his big, round brown eyes, and pressed himself against Donald Swan's seventeen-year-old body, already that of a man. Donald had run his hand over Hudson's smooth cheeks, and down inside the open collar of his shirt to feel his smooth chest and nipples. His hand had wandered even further down the small boy's body to the waist of the shorts he was wearing. As it snaked down to Hudson's groin Donald had felt only smooth flesh before he reached the object of his desire, the small bud of a circumcised penis that the pre-adolescent boy possessed. He had run his finger around the head and felt it swell slightly and stiffen. He knew the boy would be his.
The next thing he knew he was leading Hudson by the hand to the guest room, Swan dribbling precum into his boxers at the thought of seducing this handsome lad. As soon as they were in the room, with the door locked, Donald had taken the thin rod, stretched to its full three inches, in his mouth and, feeling his smooth, round balls with is left hand, sucked on it like a baby at its mother's breast. He remembered Hudson's sighs as his mouth worked the young cock to a climax, and the spasms as the boy's wet little penis had its dry orgasm. Hudson gasped at the sight as Donald tore open his fly and pulled out his raging eight-inch cock, the head slimy with precum
Hudson had dropped to his knees and had taken the head of his raging erection in his mouth. The young Donald could hardly believe what was happening as a spunk surged the length of his prick and filled the mouth of the boy at his feet. He remembered how he had sagged at the knees and collapsed on the floor, so intense was his orgasm. He had looked up at Hudson, who still had his cock, stretched to its full three inches poking out of his trousers, masturbating it furiously until his body shook with a second dry orgasm, Donald's spunk dribbling out the corners of his mouth and down the hairless chin of the young boy.
The relationship had lasted for the rest of the year, Donald having the pleasure of seeing Hudson mature into a regular teenager during the year, his cock expanding to a full five inches, his balls dropping and growing into small olives and, after a few months, producing a steady flow of sperm which Swan delighted in swallowing whenever Hudson gave him the opportunity. Finally, after he had slobbered all over Hudson's cock one day in the luggage room of the boarding house, Donald had persuaded young Hudson to fuck him.
Swan's memory dwelt on the face of the maturing thirteen year old as he recalled Hudson slowly sliding his wet cock into Donald's waiting arse, as he lay on a pile of old blankets stored there, legs in the air. Donald had felt the intense moment of pain as the small penis entered him, replaced in a moment by the warm satisfaction of the living thing inside him. Hudson had confessed to Donald that he had played around before like this, but only in the junior school, before he could come. He had never fucked a real man till then. Donald had experienced the satisfaction of the older boy initiating the younger into the darker corners of male sex.
As he had watched his cock disappear into the older boy, Hudson had lunged forward to kiss Donald on the lips, his belly brushing against Donald's hard penis. It had erupted at the same moment as Hudson had released his boy-sperm deep inside Hudson's body, his face contorted with pleasure, and love for the older boy who had led him to such pleasures. Hudson had collapsed on Donald's chest covered with the spunk, which had shot from him, as he felt the warm wetness of Hudson's sperm suffusing his bowels. Donald had grasped the soft, smooth cheeks of Hudson's arse as he lay on him, and determined to return the favour that he had just received.
And so he did, it being the first time, notwithstanding the many boy cocks that he later admitted to Donald had fucked him in the junior school, that Hudson had taken a man's cock and sperm inside him. He had protested at first that he could not take Donald's great machine, but Donald had taken him so gently that Hudson felt only the satisfaction his body possessed by a man as Donald eased the full length of his eight inches into him and delivered his stalwart injection deep in what seemed to be the centre of gravity of his small body, the warmth of the spunk diffusing slowly through his entire body. He was only thirteen and that experience defined his sexuality for the rest of his life.
The memories of the youngest seduction he had made while at school had reminded Swan of the vulnerability of boys in their early teens to the hormones coursing through their bodies. His powerful intellect, coupled with his experiences as a boy, had given him deep insights into adolescent sexuality. It had encouraged him in pursuit of his lust, once he had emerged from the state of denial, in the first couple of years at university, that saw him trying desperately to date girls and sublimate his sexuality into his sporting and academic achievements. But night after night, as he had relieved the tensions of the day, the thoughts that threaded through his mind were not the faces of the girls he took out but the memories of his boyhood experiences, many centring on Hudson, until, in the end, he had come to terms with his sexuality. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ As Swan thought about his past and what the future held for him, Simon walked down the corridor to the bathroom and cleaned up. He arrived in the study room, still feeling the clammy damp of his underpants against his belly, his face red from the tears he had shed. He reported to Lindsay, the prefect on duty.
"I've been with Mr Swan," he explained.
"O.K, if you need to have an extra half hour of study time I will fix it. I'm the Junior Dorm prefect this week," Lindsay added helpfully, wondering why Simon looked so distressed.
"Are you O.K Simon?" he asked.
Simon sat next to him, in the only free place, and opened his books. "Yes, I'm alright," he whispered, "got into trouble in English today."
Lindsay watched this pretty boy as he pored over his books and began writing. Suddenly Simon sneezed, and his hand went involuntarily to his pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. As he wiped his face, Lindsay noticed the initials "D.S" embroidered in one corner at the same time as the unmistakable smell of sperm, like wet wattle blossom, wafted across. He looked more closely and saw the damp spots on the white linen. Jesus, he thought, what has this boy been up to? What has Swan been up to? +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Johno had been aroused by what he had seen when he barged into Swan's study. But he had also been disturbed. He was no longer The Duck's special boy. It dawned on him that, as he had grown into his mid-teen and his body matured, he was becoming less attractive to those who had pursued him as a youngster. But, he told himself, his main concern was for Simon. Or was it? Here was a competitor for the affection of the man who had taught him so much about enjoying his sexuality, assuaging his guilt. But, above all, he did not want to see Simon hurt, physically or emotionally. What would be his fate when he too shed his boyhood? Would The Duck try to fuck him as he had Johno? Would Simon be able to resist?
Johno was still somewhat traumatised by the memory of the first time he had been fucked, or more accurately, raped, by Lindsay in the luggage room. But having had that experience, and being a year older than Simon when The Duck had seduced him, Johno had been able to resist. Johno knew Swan's cock. He imagined how it could devastate a young boy like Simon, especially if he were a virgin. What should he do?
As he lay fingering his cock in bed that night, his concerns outweighed his youthful libido. He could not stop his thoughts dwelling on what he had witnessed. He had to talk with someone. Johno had never told another soul about these clandestine meetings with Swan, observing the unwritten code of honour, which bound the sexual congress of the boys in the school: one never mentioned the name of another with whom one had sex. Little did Johno know that the code had been breached in his case when Lindsay, had told Huw how he had fucked him in the luggage room, and gotten into so much trouble. Had he known it may have made his conscience easier when he determined to confide in Huw what he had seen in Swan's study that night, realising that he would have to confess his own relationship with Swan in so doing. He simply had to do something, tell someone.
He knew that Huw was in love with Simon. He should know what was going on, Johno told himself. Huw had made friends with Simon. Perhaps more; Johno was not sure. In any case Huw was best placed to warn Simon of the dangers he faced, get him away from The Duck. The weekend was coming up and he would find an opportunity to take Huw into his confidence. Drained by the emotions stirred in him by what he had witnessed, and the thought of getting together with Huw over the weekend, Johno forewent his nightly wank. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Saturday was a perfect autumn day.
"Hey, Huw," Johno called over breakfast, "like to take a ride to the Rock today."
It was the end of the season and there was no cricket that weekend, as the Easter break loomed and the school turned it attention to the coming football season. The Rock, or more accurately Hanging Rock, was a favourite outing for the boys of the boarding house. It was at the bottom of a deep ravine carved out of the flat country around the school, hanging over a deep pool of clear water, surrounded by dense remnant rainforest formed by the microclimate of the gorge. It was cool in summer and sheltered from the cold winds that surged across the plain in winter. It was about five miles from the school, an hour's ride, followed by a half-hour walk through the bush.
"Great," replied Huw. "We'll have to get an ex-per," the boys' term for the excursion permit required to be away from the school. "But that won't be a problem, as there's no sport. Let's grab some bread and stuff from the kitchen, and head off on our bikes straight after breakfast."
The filtered sunlight of late summer dappled the gorge as the boys flung their packs on the massive rock overhanging the pool. They were hot from the ride and hike through the bush.
"Let's go for a swim," Johno urged, starting to undress. He and Huw were soon standing naked, their adolescent bodies glistening with sweat in the bright sunlight. Huw glanced at Johno's regular cock, nestled in a bush of fair hair. His balls were tight from the exertion of the walk, and his penis lay on top sticking out almost horizontally. As Huw drew his boxers down his legs he suffered his usual embarrassment at displaying his small flaccid tool. He tried to will it into a semi-erection, but it did not respond. He ran to the end of the rock and jumped into the dark waters of the deep pool below, followed by Johno. The water felt cool and delicious as their bodies met for an instant. Huw felt the electricity from Johno's firm, athletic body, and, despite the cold water, felt his penis engorge slightly. They horsed around for a few minutes until they had cooled off, then hauled their naked bodies onto the rocks beside the pool.
The boys climbed the slope behind the hanging rock and emerged at the top. They flung their towels down on the warm rock and lay on their bellies in the sun. Huw admired Johno's taught body as the rays off the sun, filtered through the foliage overhead, played on his firm round bum, highlighting the downy covering of hair, which was as fair as that hanging over Johno's face. Why, Huw wondered to himself, has it taken so long for me to get close to Johno, and found no answer.
Johno glanced sideways at Huw. They had always been good enough friends, but there had been no intimacy in their relationship. Although in many ways they were alike, Johno was nine months older and that made a difference at that age. Johno had always liked older boys, and now men. He had thought of Huw as a good all-rounder, not as athletic as he was, but a trier, and equally bright. He had seen boys at Huw's bed and knew he had a bit of a reputation, but despite being neighbours in the junior dorm, they had never got together until this term, when Johno had sensed the depth of Huw's sexual drive from his obvious pursuit of Simon. He felt an odd sort of bond being forged between them, as he himself had been pursued by older boys when in junior dorm. And Johno's growing physical needs, as his youthful body ripened into that of a man, and older boys and men took less interest in him, increasingly drove him to find new partners, irrespective of age. He reached over and stroked Huw's smooth back. He felt his cock, pressed against the rock, swelling beneath him. A shaft of sunlight suddenly burst through the canopy overhead and seemingly thrust itself, like some rapacious deity, between the cheeks of Johno's bum. The effect had a curious impact on Huw, remembering how this boy had been raped as a youngster. He ran his hand along the inside of Johno's thighs, pushing his hand down until it brushed lightly against his balls, covered with soft fur, as if to comfort him.
Johno opened his legs slightly, delicious memories floating through is mind of Donald Swan's large cock thrusting through them, drawing back and rubbing up the crack of his arse, then plunging back between his thighs, the tip brushing against his balls, at the same time as he felt Swan's own balls crushed against the back of his legs. Then the final urgent thrust, accompanied by cries of pleasure, as the master spewed his sperm over Johno's youthful nuts. Johno fantasised that Donald Swan would one day fuck him. He had felt a tingling in his spine as Swan's cock brushed over his anus, but memories of the rape of his virginity by Lindsay, two years earlier when he was only thirteen, threw a dark veil over his libido when he contemplated that ultimate act of intimacy. He was not ready for that just yet.
As these thoughts swirled through Johno's mind, Huw closed the gap between them and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His thoughts dwelt on their first sex together, only that week, and how he had filled Johno's welcoming mouth with his spunk. Johno moved his head slightly and their lips met. Huw had never really kissed anyone before, but now felt Johno's tongue slipping inside his mouth. It was something Johno had learnt from Donald Swan: the boy had been well educated by the man.
As they came up for air Huw exclaimed "Wow, that was fantastic. Johno, where did you learn that?"
"You know you don't ask such questions," Johno retorted, smiling, "but I'll let you guess, and give you a hint: I had a good master."
Huw stared into Johno's face, the lines of which were gradually hardening from the boyish good looks of adolescence into the handsome features of a youth, with the down visible on his cheeks. He thought of all the boys he had seen at Johno's bed over the past couple of years. Ben, Dicky, Robby, Josh, Jimmy, Dave, Rupert, Fish, Jacko, Whitey and a few others. He couldn't remember seeing any kissing going on, only the movement under the bed clothes. Kissing was decidedly off, in the sub-culture of the boarding school. Who could have Johno done it with? God, was it Lindsay he wondered. No, theirs had been a one off thing, more plain lust than tender embraces. Huw was mystified.
"Give up," he said. "I thought of Ben, Dicky and Rupert," he added, naming some of the more likely characters he had seen Johno entertaining, "but I don't reckon any of them or the others are into that."
"Well, I guess I've seen a few blokes visiting your bed too," Johno replied, acknowledging Huw's observation of his nocturnal activities over the years.
"No, none of them," he added.
Huw's hand continued to massage the inside of Johno's thighs as they talked. His own cock was had grown to full stretch and he shifted his body to accommodate the pressure. He turned on his side, proudly revealing its full glory. Johno too turned to face Huw, the sunlight glistening on the moist tip of his young cock. The boys took in the sight of each other's manhood.
"Impressive," said Johno. "I've never seen one grow so much from small beginnings to that size," he remarked, admiring the seven inches of circumcised flesh that Huw sported when fully erect.
"Yours is nice too," Huw answered, admiring the well shaped and well proportioned, but lesser member that Johno showed.
The boys embraced again, their mouths meeting in another passionate kiss, their cocks pressing against each other, as the late summer sun warmed their naked bodies, and the kookaburras seemed to laugh at their antics.
As their lips parted Huw slipped his hand down to feel Johno's rigid tool. It was hard, like his body, moist at the tip, like his mouth, and pulsating like his tongue as it darted around Huw's teeth. He brought up against his own throbbing flesh, the tip extending just an inch or so short of Huw's impressive length, their balls pressing against each other. The precum leaking from each mingled and shone in the warm light. Huw gazed into Johno's clear blue eyes, and Johno's met his with a steady stare.
As the warmth spread between their moist groins, Huw for the first time realised what a handsome youth Johno had become, his body compact and taught. Huw although the younger was taller, softer and his smooth round cheeks lacked the definition of Johno's emerging manhood. But it was Huw's eyes that caught Johno's attention. They were intense blue, like his own, but wider, openly sensual, eyes that he knew he could trust. And he had to trust someone.
Huw's hand worked their cocks to a state of near frenzy. Suddenly Johno pulled back, close to the edge of orgasm, and rolled on his back. He wanted to feel that lovely dick of Huw's between his legs.
"Fuck me, Huwy," he breathed, hastily adding "between my thighs."
Huw moved on top of Johno, placing the glistening tip at the end of his seven inches between Johno's legs. He felt Johno's balls brushing against the top as he forced it home. Johno's rigid cock pressed against his belly as he lowered himself on to his chest, and their mouths met once more. Huw moved gently as his climax approached, the tip of his prick moving against the crack of Johno's arse as he pushed it as far as it would go. His tongue moved in unison with the thrust of his cock. He felt the spunk from his balls, squashed against Johno's legs, rising through the bulging vein at the base of his cock.
"I'm coming," he cried as he pressed as far as he could into the boy beneath him. As his spunk surged through the length of his cock to spatter against Johno's crack and seep into the towel on which they lay, Huw felt Johno's penis pulse against his belly, and the liquid warmth of his spunk diffuse between their bodies.
The boys remained in a close embrace, their bodies glued together by Johno's copious offering, as they rolled onto their sides. As post-orgasmic torpor, enhanced by the sun's warm rays, overtook their naked bodies, Huw's thoughts drifted back to their earlier conversation.
"Tell me who it was," Huw said, "who taught you to kiss like that? I'd like to get together. You also said that you were going to tell me something about Simon," he added, blushing slightly as he spoke the name of the boy he loved.
"I'm not sure that you would," Johno teased. "He might tear you apart."
"So, he has a big cock," Huw said. "Must be Fish, he's got the biggest cock in the House. I'd never have thought he was into kissing though."
"Wrong, again. I said I had a good master."
Huw's mouth dropped. "You didn't get off with The Duck," he said, disbelief written all over his face.
Johno nodded.
"Shit, why are you telling me this Johno. I don't think I want to know." Huw blurted out, his mind and body now fully alert.
"Huw, I have to tell someone. I know I can trust you. It also concerns Simon. I know how you feel about Simon. That's why you have to know."
Huw felt numb. He understood that Johno, and probably many others, had twigged his barely concealed love for Simon. What exploded in his mind was the pang of jealousy he had felt when The Duck had pre-empted Simon's company in the bus, on the way to the cricket match at Joey's. He froze at what he knew instinctively Johno was about to tell him.
"You'd better tell me," he sighed, not really wanting to hear it spelled out.
Johno, seeing his ashen features, broke it gently to Huw. He related first how Mr Swan had seduced him when they shared a tent at the scout camp, and how their relationship had developed into a regular sexual encounter in the year since.
"I guess we had become pretty familiar," Johno said. "I would just knock on his study door and go in. He would hug me, we would feel each other up, he would take out my cock and suck it. I would mostly come in his mouth. I would usually pull him off afterwards. A couple of times when he found me working late he invited me to his bedroom, we would get undressed and do it naked in bed. He liked to put his cock, which is pretty impressive, between my legs and fuck me from behind, and come over my balls. He wanted to bum-fuck me, but I wouldn't let him," he said matter-of-factly.
"But it was good. I enjoyed it. And he kissed like an angel. That's where I learnt it."
"The other night I had to see him during study time, about the final cricket match of the season. I knocked on his door, and out of habit opened it and stuck my head around. Simon was there, sitting on his sofa. He looked as if he had been crying. His face was all wet. The Duck was standing in front of him, looking flustered. I thought I noticed that he had a hard-on, inside his trousers. It's the first place I look when I see him."
"I can't be sure," Johno said, breaking the news as gently as he could, "but I think they had been up to something. I know from my own experience what The Duck is like, and I didn't think it was only tears on Simon's face. I thought I could smell spunk. I just mumbled 'sorry, didn't know you had someone with you' and withdrew before I had time to take any more in.
"So, there you are. I don't know what to do. I had to tell someone. You know why I'm telling you, Huwy."
Huw was silent. He had no idea what to say, or how to react. His brain had turned to water, all feeling drained from his body. He had been shocked enough to learn of Johno's relationship with The Duck, but Simon…… His mind could barely cope with the thought of him being ravaged by Swan.
Johno put his arm around him. The two boys were still naked, and Huw began to sob quietly as he felt the warmth of Johno's body and the feeling conveyed by his embrace.
"Let's go for a swim and cool off," Johno said gently. "We can talk about this later."
He took Huw by the hand and they leapt from the rock into the deep pool below. Huw felt the soothing embrace of the cool water. He swam to Johno and hugged him tightly in the water. He could not get Simon out of his mind.
"Thanks, Johno, for trusting me. I needed to know. Yes, I love Simon, but we've never actually done anything, apart from a bit of a feel in the bus coming home from Joey's," Huw confessed. "I don't know what we should do."
"I thought you might talk to him, as you're good friends, at least."
The tension in Huw's body drained away as they swam together. He told Johno of the warning Lindsay had given him after the episode in the bus where he and Simon had got so close as to be noticed, and how he had distanced himself from Simon.
"Ah, trust Lindsay to notice," Johno replied. "I suppose he told you about what happened to him - and me."
"Yes, he broke the code, to give me the message," Huw said, referring to the unwritten rule among boys in the school that you never named your sexual partners. "So, I had to take the warning seriously. And I understand why you won't let The Duck fuck you," he added gently, intimating his knowledge of what Lindsay had done to Johno in the luggage room of the House. There was no point in concealing anything from each other now. They were embarking on a totally honest relationship, going beyond schoolboy lust, enjoyable as finding that in each other had been.
The boys emerged from the water, their youthful bodies glowing in the afternoon sun, dried themselves, and ate their picnic lunch, the dappled sunlight from the forest camouflaging their still naked bodies.
"I'll think of a way," Huw said. "What about Lindsay, should we bring him in?" Huw asked.
"No," Johno replied. I think you have to get to Simon first. What about the Easter break coming up. Can you invite him to spend it with you? You know his folks have moved to Western Australia, so he can't go home."
"Yes, he told me," Huw replied, "but I hadn't thought of him having nowhere to go for the hols. That's a great idea. And it's only next week."
The boys swam again, dressed and walked slowly through the bush to their bikes at the top of the gorge. They peddled back to school in silence.
A palpable bond had been forged between them, on that late summer's day, on the rock of thoughts honestly shared, jutting out into the forest of adolescent desires, in the warm sunlight of their sexuality, and values which found expression, irrespective of motives, in rescuing a younger boy from the inviting, but deep, waters into which his burgeoning sexuality was pulling him. They would be friends for life. In later years, as they gathered together the shards of their life's experiences, and sought to form them into some coherent shape, both would remember that day at Hanging Rock as a defining moment in their lives.
But for now Huw had to work out how to get close enough to Simon to ensure he could catch him, in the rye, before the boy that he loved more than anyone else on earth, tumbled over the precipice.
End of Part 7. Comments would be welcome. E-mail to danielsjim@hotmail.com