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This is the eighth 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 1-7 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. Swan, recalling his youthfull excess in the same boarding house, agonizes over the danger he is in. Johno goes on a picnic with Huw where they have their first sexual encounter, and he tells Huw all.
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 8
Saturday night. No study. Simon's mind was on other things as he mouthed his way through the dress rehearsal for the House play. He and Jamie were playing two women and smirked at each when their lines talked of love. Lindsay was playing the lead role. He was a natural actor, and at one point where he took Jamie into his arms and embraced "her" the difference between playing the part and reality of a passionate kiss was hard to discern.
When the rehearsal finished, in the dressing rooms below the stage, Jamie and Simon stole a kiss themselves and felt each other up. They were blissfully unaware that the door was ajar, and, as he passed, Lindsay had caught a glimpse in a mirror of Simon with his hand on Jamie's fly. He noticed the boyish bulge in both boys' pants and was instantly aroused. It would be opportune for him to have a word with young Simon.
Lindsay poked his head through the gap. The two boys hastily drew apart.
"Simon", he said, "could I have a word with you afterwards, in my study. There are a few things we should go over."
"Sure," replied Simon. "I'll just get changed, and get the make-up off."
As Lindsay disappeared down the corridor, Simon turned to Jamie and kissed on the cheek. The boys felt each other's erection pressing together as they embraced.
"After lights-out, tonight," Simon whispered in Jamie's ear.
The boys got out of their costumes, each eyeing the erection clearly evident in the briefs of the other. They could scarcely contain themselves but, having been caught once before, by Rabbit, wanking off in the dressing rooms after rehearsal of the Junior School play a year earlier, understood that it was too dangerous to go too far.
They wandered back to the House, their hands gently brushing against each other as they walked in the darkness.
"I'd better see what Lindsay wants," Simon said. "See you in a few minutes. The rest of the dorm should be asleep."
Simon knocked gently on the door of Lindsay's study.
"Come in," he heard, and slipped his head around the corner.
"You wanted to talk about the play," he said.
"Well sort of," Lindsay replied, inviting him to come in and sit down.
"It is about you and Jamie, actually, and what goes on after rehearsal rather than on stage."
Simon felt the blood drain from his face, and a tingling in his groin. God, he thought, a prefect has caught us at it.
"Look," Lindsay went on, " I don't care what you two get up to in private, go for it. But, Simon, you are getting a bit of a reputation around the House, horsing around publicly in a way which is not seen as innocent. I just want to warn you for your own good."
His voice had the stern authority of a boy four years older, with the menace of exposure of his thirteen-year-old victim. Simon felt duly intimidated, and cast his eyes downwards. He said nothing.
The tone of Lindsay's voice changed to one of a friend giving advice.
"I know from experience how much trouble you can get into if you don't keep these things discrete."
Simon looked up, wondering what he was revealing to him.
"I once did a stupid thing and paid the price. I don't want that to happen to you."
Lindsay leaned forward and put his hand on Simon's bare knee.
"You are a good looking boy, Simon. You must realise by now that there are a lot of boys interested in you. You can cause a lot of trouble for them if you are not careful."
Simon looked up and smiled knowingly. It had not taken him long to appreciate when he came into the senior school, he attracted the attention of some of the older boys. He rather liked the thought of the opportunities it presented. Huw was among them, but he looked upon Huw as a real friend.
Lindsay leaned forward and looked intently into Simon's deep green eyes.
"There are men too. Simon," he said, "I want you to tell me what happened between you and Mr Swan on Friday night. I saw the handkerchief, and I smelled it too." He knew that was all he had to say.
Simon's normally pink cheeks flushed bright red. He tore himself away from Lindsay's gaze, not knowing where to look, or how to respond. His groin felt as if it were gripped in a steel vise, his youthful genitals shrivelling into a tight ball. He felt simultaneously hot and cold, and then as if he was somehow disembodied, in a dream, a nightmare, watching and listening to what was going on, but not part of it, wishing he would wake up and find it was a mirage.
Simon looked up, and his body clicked together as Lindsay's gaze bore into him. His beautiful face crumpled into a look of stricken terror. The thirteen year old boy, unable to cope, burst into sobs, long breathless sobs, his chest heaving, tears flowing down his cheeks.
Lindsay's stern role-playing was overwhelmed by compassion for the boy he had confronted with the demon buried in his psyche. He did not need to press the question: he knew the answer.
"Fuck The Duck," he thought. "Bloody masters had no business interfering with boys like this," was his instinctive reaction to the tragi-drama being played out in front of him, notwithstanding that he understood the demons that drove men like Swan, for they were alive and well and living in his own soul.
He stood, picked Simon up with one swift movement, and hugged him to his breast. His lips found Simon's cheek as he held him in a steely grip. Simon's chest heaved against him. He tasted the salty dampness of Simon's tears as they ran down his cheeks.
"It's OK," he said. "I think I know what happened. It was not your fault."
"Yes, it was," he sobbed, but then began to feel the calming effect of being held in the grip of the boy who, to him, was a man.
It was like when his father comforted him after one of his mother's emotional storms. But there was a difference. He felt his groin relax as the outline of Lindsay's swollen penis pressed against his thigh and Lindsay's lips explored his own swollen cheeks.
Simon's sobs subsided as he pressed his smaller body against Lindsay's manly torso. He felt Lindsay's lips move towards his own. He sensed the pressure of Lindsay's tongue against his teeth and instinctively opened his mouth to the intruder. Simon felt Lindsay's penis harden against his thigh, and his own stirred in response. The older and the younger boy were now locked in a passionate embrace that neither had anticipated, nor wanted to break. Simon's need for the warmth and protection of a man, and Lindsay's need for the love of a younger boy, catalysed by their raging hormones, met as part-man and part-boy merged their bodies in an explosion of adolescent sexuality.
As Lindsay's tongue explored the sweet taste of Simon's mouth, his hand went down to the younger boy's penis, now rigid inside his shorts. There was nothing Lindsay could do to stop himself. His fingers tore open the buttons of Simon's fly, found the slit in his jockeys, took the straining five inches of boy-flesh, uncircumsised like his own, in his left hand, and began to stroke it. His hand reached down and felt Simon's still smooth balls, ran it up the underside of his penis to the head as he pulled back Simon's foreskin
Simon's hand went to Lindsay's crotch, and felt the strong erection inside his trousers. He squeezed it gently and ran his hand along its impressive length. Simon knew from seeing him in the shower that Lindsay, like him, was uncircumsised, surrounded by a bush of bright red hair. He wanted to see the head of that machine that he had secretly admired in its languid state.
Simon teased open Lindsay's fly and felt his penis inside his briefs. It was large, not quite as big as Mr Swan, but impressive. He reached inside and felt the silky smoothness of the uncut skin. As it emerged from the fly Simon looked down to see the head emerge as he rolled back the foreskin. The head was deep purple, and glistening in the low light of the study.
Simon's tongue, tentative, began to respond. It found the tip of Lindsay's, played with it, and gently pushed it back. He had never done this before, but it felt wonderful. Lindsay opened his mouth, and Simon pushed his tongue inside, felling its warmth and wetness. His hand stroked Lindsay's erection in time to the movement of his tongue, and Lindsay returned the compliment. Both boys felt the excitement rising in their bodies. Lindsay began to tremble, stunned by the passion of the younger boy. He felt his cock harden, the head now fully emerged from his foreskin, every nerve in his body seemingly concentrated in the seven inches of flesh rearing between his legs. Simon felt the vein on the underside tighten as the first surge of Lindsay's spunk began its journey towards his own tense body. His rhythm increased as the first spurt splattered against his shirt, followed by another and another until his small hand was steaming with warm spunk. He lifted it to his lips and tasted it as Lindsay's hand performed its magic on his own penis, and it too disgorged its seed in an arc landing on the study floor and then ran down over Lindsay's hand.
As the sexual energy of their encounter ebbed away in the afterglow of their orgasms, the two youths looked at each other, Simon admiring the man, Lindsay the boy, their spunk mingling in an affirmation of the bond forged between them, as their hands clasped each other.
Lindsay was the first to speak.
"I guess we had better clean up," he said with a banality, which denied the electricity that had passed between them.
"I didn't mean this to happen," he added lamely, "but I am not sorry. Are you?"
"No," Simon replied, honestly. "Thank you for comforting me. I don't really understand what happened with Mr Swan. It was just like what happened with us. He was, sort of, comforting me over being thrown out of English, and, well like I said, it just seem to happen, like with us. It was my fault really. He didn't want to. He tried to push me away, but I was upset and just sort of hugged him 'till it happened."
"I won't say anything to anyone, Simon, but, like I said, be careful. I don't want you being hurt. Now, you'd better get to bed. After you've seen Jamie, of course," he added wickedly.
Simon blushed again.
"You seem to know all about me, Lindsay," he said.
"As I said, Simon, you have to be more discrete. There are plenty of people taking an interest in you and what you might be getting up to. Now off to bed, and enjoy Jamie, if you still have the energy."
Lindsay leaned over, kissed Simon on the cheek and patted his bum.
"Goodnight Simon. We might do this again some time, if you would like."
He smiled as Simon opened the door and Simon grinned back.
The dormitory was silent as Simon tiptoed to his bed. Everyone seemed to be asleep. As Simon undressed he felt Jamie's hand reach out and touch his cock.
"Been waiting for you, Si," he said. "What kept you do long?"
"Lindsay wanted to talk about the play, and we just sort of kept going," Simon lied to his best friend.
"Come over here and get in," Jamie invited, "nobody's awake."
Simon knew he had to keep the promise made in the dressing room, but was not sure he could make it, after exploding into Lindsay's hand.
"OK" he said, "but I'm pretty buggered Jamie."
"Would you like that?' Jamie asked not quite innocently.
It was something they had never broached in their sex together, but recently as Jamie's body matured he had increasingly fantasised about the possibility of fucking another boy. He knew boys who had been doing it since Junior School, and, one night as Rabbit had pulled him off, and he had sucked Rabbit's cock, Rabbit had asked him if he would like it up his arse.
"Get fucked, Rabbit," he had retorted, to which Rabbit had replied: "Don't mind if you do, Jamie," but had taken it no further as Jamie spurted his adolescent load into Rabbit's hand.
Simon saw a way out of his dilemma.
"Do you want to try," Simon had whispered back.
"I've been stroking my cock for the last half hour waiting for you," Jamie replier, "and it's ready for anything."
"Let's see," Simon said trying to sound non-committal as he crept into Jamie's bed.
Jamie was naked, his pyjamas in a heap at the bottom of the bed. Simon reached down and felt his boyish hard on. Five inches of circumcised penis, surrounded by a small bush of light hair, and balls still smooth. Simon had felt it countless times in their brief journey to manhood, but it was still a thrill to have sex with someone his own age. He put his head under the bed clothes and took Jamie's penis in his mouth, as he had the first time they had sex, when Jamie lay sick in bed, in the Junior School. He liked the feel of its smooth length, the taste of the precum. His hand fondled Jamie's balls as he made his cock wet with saliva.
Simon came up for air and kissed Jamie on the cheek. His cock had now responded to the excitement of being with his best friend once more. He felt Jamie's hand encircle it as they lay face to face. Simon felt the wetness of Jamie's cock.
"Do you really want to fuck me, Jamie," he whispered in Jamie's ear, knowing that there was not much spunk left in his balls.
"Would you like to?" Jamie whispered back. "Only if you want to."
"Let's try it," Simon said, knowing what he had to do, and slobbered more saliva over Jamie's eager cock.
Simon turned his back to Jamie, and felt his penis slide between his legs. Simon reached down, and felt the tip as Jamie thrust forward. He covered his hand with more saliva and wet it.
"Wet your finger and put it in me," Simon breathed.
Jamie drew back, moistened his finger with saliva and felt for Simon's anus. He gently moved his finger around it and then inserted it slowly. Simon groaned with pleasure.
"Put it in further," he whispered, and Jamie inserted the full length of his index finger and moved it around, feeling the soft warmth of his friend's bowels. He slowly withdrew and ran the length of his small, circumcised, penis up to the entrance that he had just penetrated.
As Jamie moved back Simon felt the wet tip press against his still tight opening.
"Gently," he whispered as Jamie pushed against him.
Simon felt the tip of Jamie's slender cock press into him, the instant of pain, surmounted by the gratification of taking his best friend for the first time.
"Gently, gently," Simon urged as Jamie slid his penis further inside Simon's body, until the full length of his cock was buried in his bowels. Simon felt Jamie's soft, smooth balls pressed against the cheeks of his arse.
Jamie began to move gently in and out, sliding his five inches of boy-flesh into his best friend. His hand came around, grasped Simon's hard cock and began to stroke it in time to his own thrusts.
Simon felt a deep sense of satisfaction at what was happening to his body. He was sharing what Rabbit had called their dirty little secret with his best friend. He was being fucked, and loving it. He sighed as Jamie pressed into him, his excitement obviously mounting.
"Fuck me, Jamie, fuck me," he whispered, as he felt Jamie's cock convulse deep within him and the warmth of his boy spunk flood into his bowels. Simon felt a hot glow spread from that point deep inside his young body, down to his groin and surge through his cock at the same instant that it spouted the load from his balls into his friends hands.
"Geez, that was incredible, Jamie," he gasped as the orgasm that had shaken his body subsided.
Jamie was so overcome with emotion at having fucked his best friend that he could not speak. As his cock softened and slid out of Simon's arse, followed by a trickle of the spunk he had deposited inside him, Jamie knew that he had experienced something that he would never have again: the delirium of his first fuck. .
The boys lay there exhausted, having plumbed new depths in their relationship, Simon's youthful body exhausted from the three extraordinary orgasms of the past two days. He felt his whole being was consumed by the desires unleashed by the hormones now coursing through his body. He felt he had lost control. Where would it end, he thought, as he felt Jamie's body pressed against his, spunk oozing out of him.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Sunday. Late breakfast. Sleep in. Huw stirred, raised his hand to the watch hanging on the end of his bed and read the time: 7.20, the time he normally leapt out of bed. But it was Sunday. Another hour. He rolled over and felt his morning erection pressed between his belly and mattress. It felt good, hard. stretched to its limit as it was in the mornings. He slipped his hand down inside his pyjama pants and felt it. Then his balls. They were warm and loose. He felt each one individually, shifted slightly onto his side and ran his hand up his taut penis.
Huw looked across at Johno in the next bed, two feet away. He was asleep, his fair curled hair peaking out of the sheet. Huw thought about their excursion the previous day, what Johno had told him: about himself and The Duck, Simon. He rolled his tongue around inside his mouth as he recalled the kiss Johno had given him. His first. He felt the tension rising in his balls. Visions of their naked bodies locked together, on the rock, in the sunlight, their erections pressed against each other, swam through Huw's mind as his hand worked faster and faster. He rolled onto his front, penis pressed firmly against the bed and began to work his body back and forth, giving no thought to who else might be awake and watching him. He closed his eyes to recreate better the vision of himself lying on top of Johno, his seven inches of straining flesh pressed between his legs. The tip brushing gently against the crack of Johno's arse as he thrust forward.
Huw turned on his side and started to stroke his cock, all the while watching Johno's face on the pillow. Johno opened one eye and gave Huw a bleary smile. The other popped open. He watched the regular movement under Huw's bedclothes and felt his own morning erection sticking out of his pyjama trousers. He slowly moved the bedclothes back so that Huw could catch a glimpse, as his hand found the swollen head. Huw increased the rate of stroking a threw back his bedclothes so that Johno could see his hand moving up and down on his straining cock. The two boys watched each other masturbate as the ret of the dormitory slept, or so they thought. They started to keep time with each other, like soldiers marching in step.
Huw was the first to blow. He let out a quiet moan as the spunk shot from his cock, the first spurt forming a parabola in the air before landing midway between the boys' beds, glistening white in the morning sun coming through the windows. The second spurt hit the sheet on the side of Huw's bed and slowly dribbled down the side of the mattress. More drops landed on the sheet and finally trickled down Huw's hand, coating it with luminescent pearl. Johno's cock erupted seconds later, his first ejaculation forming a small puddle of spunk on the floor beside Huw's, the second went almost as far and a third piece of evidence of the boys' morning joy lay on the floor between the beds.
Huw turned on his back and stared at the ceiling. A plan formed in his mind: as Simon could not go home that Easter he would ask his parents if Simon could spend the break with them, get Simon's parents to agree and the permission of the Housemaster. It would give him the chance to get closer to Simon and to warn him about the danger he faced with The Duck. He would talk to Simon after chapel and see if he could fit in with his plan.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Sunday chapel. The choir. Huw only had eyes for one member, Simon, among the altos, in his black gown and white surplice. He looked more beautiful than ever in Huw's eyes, aglow with his red cheeks and green eyes, set off by the dark curls of his head. Not that there were no other good-looking boys in the choir: the 45 year old bachelor choir master saw to it that quality of voice was not allowed to override aesthetic considerations in choosing the members. They were the handsomest group in the school. In chapel the older boys admired the sopranos and the altos, and the younger ones hero-worshipped the tenors and basses.
"Si," Huw called as waited outside the door of the chapel for Simon to emerge, "just a minute."
Simon turned, and Huw felt his balls tingle as Simon smiled at him.
"Johno told me that you can't get home for the Easter break, and I wondered if you would like to come home with me," he blurted out in a rush of words. "My parents are driving down to pick me up on Tuesday. You could drive back with us."
"Gee, Huw, that'd be great; sure it would be alright?
"I'll check with my folk but I'm sure they'll agree. Will it be OK with yours?"
"I'm sure it will," Simon said, "I'll call them today, and get them to tell the Housemaster."
And so the scene was set, so Huw thought, for Simon's seduction, and to save him from the clutches of The Duck. He called his mother immediately and she agreed to fix it with the Housemaster.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Sunday afternoon. A pre-season football match against Joey's. All the school had been urged to turn out to cheer on their team, and most of the junior boys rounded up to do so. Huw sauntered out reluctantly. He hated football, but he would be there because he was expected. The story of my life he thought sadly. I'm always doing things because Mum or Dad or the teachers expect it. But he kept the secrets of his own desires in his own inner room, and Simon was at the centre of it. One day, he told himself, he would tear himself free and go where his heart, and not others, led him.
He cheered dutifully as the school team kicked its first goal. Over by the other goal post he caught a glimpse of the distinctive dark curls on the back of Simon's head. He moved through the crowd of boys to get closer until he stood just behind Simon. The back of his head as beautiful as the rest of him Huw thought, sick with love and anticipation of spending the break with him. He counted each curl, and noticed the small indentation in one of his ears. He would remember that tiny flaw in this otherwise flawless creature. He moved closer in the crush of supporters around the goal post until he was pressed against Simon's back.
"Hi, Si, it's only me; sorry, I'm getting shoved from behind.
"Don't worry, Huwy. I understand" Simon replied ambiguously, looking around with a smile that seemed to Huw to lift from his face and float across the gap between them and land lightly n his cheek.
Huw felt his groin contract with excitement as he pressed his body more firmly against Simon's back. His penis began to swell, and he pulled back lest Simon notice and take offence. He hoped that Simon would put his hands behind his back then Huw could move forward so that Simon could "accidentally" feel him. No, Simon's hands were too busy waving to the school team, so Huw pressed forward again, and taking courage allowed his now aroused penis to press against Simon's tight, round bum. Simon seemed not to notice. As the bell went for the end of the game Huw drew back confused and embarrassed at what he had done. He is so beautiful and so innocent, he thought to himself, and began to worry that Simon would sense what he was up to and pull out of their arrangement for the Easter break.
Huw headed for the toilet block, wracked with love and desire and a rigid penis that needed relief. He found a cubicle, pulled down his trousers and with visions of Simon's smile in his head began to stroke his aching rod. After barely half a dozen strokes he felt his orgasm coming on and a jet of spunk flew out of the end of his cock. He sagged at the knees, and let out a small cry, as it splattered against the cistern behind the toilet, the another and another until the toilet bowl was coated with drops of his young sperm. He sat down on the toilet seat, his cock still rigid. The tension in it was still unbearable. His mind swirled with the thought of Simon, his beautiful, uncut cock, his smooth body, flawless features, round bum, and his hand began to move again.
Huw gripped his cock in a firm hold and pounded relentlessly on his swollen seven inches as he sat, legs outstretched, driven by the memory of it pressed against Simon's tight bum. He closed his eyes and imagined Simon's lips pressed against his, their tongues entwined as he had with Johno, for the first time, the day before. Once more he felt the sap rising from deep down in his groin and the vein at the base of his penis tense as another volley of spunk surged through his aching member. The head of his penis flared and the shaft throbbed as the first spurt flew towards the door and landed on the floor at his feet, the next landed in his underpants, stretched across his knees, and more dribbled down his hand as his third orgasm that day ebbed away.
Huw emerged from the toilet block and ran straight into Simon walking back to the House. He flushed at the thought that Simon could tell what he had been doing, and that Simon would know instinctively that he had precipitated Huw's orgy of masturbation.
"Huwy," he said, flashing Huw another of his devastating smiles, "my parents have given the OK for the Easter break and told the Housemaster. That's great isn't it?"
Huw could hardly contain his excitement.
"Mine too. Terrific, Si. Dad will drive down and pick us up on Tuesday afternoon when the school breaks up."
Twice more Huw wanked off that night, unable to think of anything but Simon, and again the next morning, visions of his face and naked body floating through his mind as he did. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The Buick swung through the gates of Huw's family's holiday villa in the mountains. Huw's father pulled up by the front verandah, and the boys tumbled out of the back seat which they had shared on the two-hour drive from school. Huw could not believe his luck that Simon would spend the next week sharing his bedroom. He could not take his eyes off the beautiful boy beside him, or stop himself mentally stripping him naked.
"Come on Si, I'll show you the house," Huw said, racing across the verandah which circled the house and through the large front door. He flushed slightly as he took Simon's hand to lead him through. Huw's bedroom was a sleep-out, with bathroom attached, at the opposite end of the house to his parents' bedroom. It was a large, light, airy room, overlooking the tennis court and garden at the back, with a breathtaking view of the creek running along the boundary and the mountain rearing majestically behind.
There were two beds with a small table between them.
"Which one do you want, Si," Huw asked, as Simon took in the restrained elegance of the room. It was more luxurious than his own home, which had the air of spare professionalism of his parents about it, and he was overwhelmed by the setting.
"Either, Huwy, I don't mind. You choose."
"You take the one with the best view," Huw said, and took the one near the bathroom, Simon the one by the wall, looking out the window.
They soon unpacked and were waiting for dinner, talking with Huw's father in the study.
Huw loved his parents, but, as the only son, their expectations of him were high. He felt the pressure to conform to their ideals, their expectation that he would follow his father into the family business, and he was not sure he could, or even wanted to live up to them.
Huw felt deeply ashamed of his emerging sexuality, and had nearly died one morning when his mother had noticed the stains on his handkerchief, soon after his once-dry orgasms had given way to regular ejaculations. He had mumbled a reply when his father, in the only sex education he had attempted to give his son, had asked whether he had had a wet dream. He would shoot himself rather than admit that he masturbated. He knew that he had to conceal his real feelings for Simon, and try to treat him as just another friend in front of them. So dinner was a rather stiff and formal affair, before he and Simon could escape to their room.
The boys began to undress slowly in the cool night air of the mountains. They had seen each other naked many times in the changing rooms of the boarding house, but they nevertheless evinced a certain shyness as they removed their trousers, turning away from each other. Huw stole a glimpse at Simon's briefs, and felt his own cock stir, in the boxers he always wore, as he took in the smooth curve of Simon's bum. It was time to be bold he told himself, and turned around as he pulled down his boxers and lifted his shirt to expose his genitals. He would like his cock to be more engorged so that it did not look so insignificant, but he was determined to show it to Simon in all its glory before long.
Simon slid his briefs down to his ankles and stepped out, exposing his smallish uncut cock and bush of dark hair as the only blemish on his smooth skin. He glanced at Huw, and wondered whether he would carry on where they had left off in the bus on the way back from the cricket match with Joey's a few weeks earlier. He had seemed distant since then, and Simon wondered how interested in sex Huw really was. He seemed such a good boy.
Huw stood unnaturally still, his eyes fixed on Simon's naked body only feet away. Dare he reach out and touch him? He looked so beautiful, and innocent. He could not believe that anything had happened between Simon and Mr Swan. Johno must have been wrong. Simon was too young, too vulnerable for that. Huw felt sick at the thought.
He wanted to take him in his arms, feel his own body warm against Simon, shelter him from the world, kiss him on the lips, as Johno had done to him for the first time only days before. He imagined feeling their growing erections pressed against each other. But what would Simon think if he tried anything? Huw felt he could not compromise the friendship they had developed by revealing his true feelings. He walked across to the chest of drawers and got out his pyjamas, as Simon, his smooth flesh radiating sexual heat beside him, riffled through the other drawer.
Simon was the first into bed. Huw came over and sat on the edge.
"Do you like the place, Si?" he asked.
"It's fantastic, Huwy. Do you come here every vac?"
"Yes, Dad loves the place, and I do too. Tomorrow we can take a picnic to the lake, and later climb the mountain. We can hire some horses, too, and ride."
"Is your sister coming up for the break?" Simon asked innocently, referring to Huw's twelve-year-old sibling.
"No, she's going with a friend. Why, are you interested Si?" Huw asked bring the subject around to sex. "She's a bit young," he laughed. "Have you got a girlfriend, Si?"
Simon looked embarrassed.
"Well there was the girl next door before my parents moved to Perth, who I used to see a bit."
"Did you ever kiss her?"
"Yeah, a few times; she was quite hot actually." Simon lied
"Show me," Huw said, and leaned over Simon's face looking up at him from the pillow where his head lay framed by the dark curls of his hair.
Simon felt sick with a mixture of love and lust as he gazed down on Simon's beautiful features, only inches away form his own. The steady gaze of Simon's deep green eyes met his. Huw's cock stirred and he felt it rise almost instantaneously to its full size inside his pyjamas.
Simon looked up at Huw. The light from the bedside lamp caught the soft down which covered the cheeks of his 14 year old friend. The boyish roundness of his features was just beginning to give way to the sharper lines of young manhood. Simon was excited by the sight.
"Like this," he said, lifting his head until his lips brushed against Huw's.
Huw pulled back. He was a breath of air away from orgasm. What would Simon think if he creamed his pyjamas at that moment? He was dazed, infatuated, overcome.
Simon's own cock had sprung to attention as he lay in bed, Huw's face hovered over him, and he saw the tent formed in Huw's pyjamas by his erection.
"Did you ever go any further? Huw asked disingenuously.
Simon wanted to impress his older friend with his interest in girls, but was coy about revealing the extent of his interest in sex, much less the real story of his experience.
"We sort of hugged and pressed against each other."
"Did you get a boner?"
Simon was unsure how to reply, wondering where the conversation was heading.
Well, sort of, I suppose," he said tentatively.
"Did you pull off afterwards?" Huw pressed.
Simon was embarrassed to admit that he wanked. He did not answer immediately.
"You do it, don't you? Huw asked.
"Do you?" Simon replied with a question.
"Occasionally," Huw lied, I'm trying to stop. I read once that it's not good for your eyes."
"So do I," Simon admitted, "but I'm trying to stop too."
"Why don't we help each other," Huw suggested. "Tell me is you feel like it, and I'll tell you and that might help." he added with no conviction, but in the hope of the conversation leading somewhere.
"I feel like it now, Huwy," Simon blurted out.
"So do I," Huw admitted. "So we won't tonight, will we?"
"No," said Simon, keeping his fingers crossed.
"'Night, Si." "Night, Huwy." the boys said as Huw made his way to his own bed, his seven inch erection clearly visible to Simon through the fly of his pyjamas.
Huw climbed into bed, his erection aching, and turned out the bedside light.
"I need to go to the toilet," he heard Simon say, as he climbed out of bed and padded past Huw's bed towards the bathroom.
Huw caught the sight of the tent in his pyjamas in the moonlight streaming through the window. He lay there stroking his raging hard-on. He heard the stream of Simon's piss hitting the toilet bowl, and the flush. He had thoughts only of what it was issuing from. He saw Simon pulling back the foreskin, shaking off the drops, milking it, stroking it, burgeoning into erection, until he felt his whole body consumed with only one desire.
He heard Simon's footsteps across the room. Huw put out his hand and caught Simon's as he passed Huw's bed. He pulled Simon onto the bed. He was now lying on top of Huw. Huw put his arms around Simon, and lifted his face until their lips met. He could feel Simon's erection through the bedclothes. Huw's lips found Simon's cheek in a long, loving, kiss. Simon broke away.
"No, Huwy, we mustn't. We promised to help each other stop."
"I know," Huw replied. "You're right, we mustn't."
Simon walked slowly to his bed, erection aching as much as he knew Huw's would be. He could not show Huw that he was a slut. He climbed slowly into bed.
Huw felt as if he were about to boil over inside, as if his groin was about to explode. His mind was numb with love for the boy he had just held in his arms, whose cheek he had kissed, whose boyish erection he had felt through the bedclothes that separated them. He could not stop himself. He flung back the bedclothes and skipped over to where Simon lay on his back, a bulge under the bedclothes where his hand held his penis. He lay beside him, his face next to Simon's on the pillow.
"Simon, it can't hurt," Huw cried. "I lied to you before. I do it every day. It doesn't harm you. Simon I love you. I want you."
His breath was coming in rapid bursts as the words tumbled out. His body trembled as he took Simon in his arms and kissed him firmly on the lips, his tongue seeking an opening. He reached down and felt Simon's erection through the bedding, and pressed his own against his prone body. Simon opened his mouth and felt Huw's tongue dart inside. He felt a surge of excitement as he pressed back against Huw.
Huw turned and switched on the light beside the bed. He had to look at the object of his love while he made love to him. He stood and tore off his pyjama top and bottom, revealing his erection stretched to its full length. Simon stared in momentary disbelief at what the small cock he had seen many times had grown to a mighty seven-inch monster, curving up from Huw's body, the circumcised head flaring and straining, streaked with precum.
Simon reached tentatively to touch this wondrous object. Here was a boy with a man's penis, he thought - nearly as big as Mr Swan's, bigger than Lindsay. Huw pulled back the bedclothes. Rapidly he undid the string of Simon's pyjama pants. Simon raised his body for Huw to pull them down. Both boys were now consumed by adolescent lust, committed finally to the act of intimacy between them.
Huw knelt astride Simon's young body. The sight that he had craved lay a foot from his nose. He gazed down on Simon's youthful erection, the head still partly covered by his foreskin. Huw reached down and took it in both hands and gently moved them from the base, where he felt the soft wonder of Simon's balls, to the purple tip, where he had drawn his foreskin right back. As he slid it back and forth he felt Simon's hand on his own erection. It was at bursting point already and the gentle touch of a hand, as soft as a baby's, sent Huw into the first spasm of an orgasm the likes of which his young body had never known.
His hips thrust forward and his chest heaved as wave after wave of sensation, starting at the base of his penis, engulfed his whole body in a paroxysm of joy. So fierce, so consuming was its force and the emotions that had been unleashed by seducing the boy that he loved, that he momentarily wondered if he was going to survive, or roll off the bed in a faint. His body bucked and heaved as spurt after spurt of spunk ejaculated from the tip of his penis with the force of a jet. The first drop landed on Simon's cheek, the second on his chin, the third, fourth, fifth, sixth formed a line of pearls across the amber glow of Simon's smooth chest and belly, with more running down Huw's hands forming small patches of light on Simon's dark pubic hair.
At the same moment he felt the vein at the base of Simon's penis tighten in his hands, and then the whole shaft convulsed and the first spurt of his spunk joined a drop of Huw's on his chest, then another and another until his young balls were emptied. Huw's body sunk slowly onto Simon's and lay on top of him in the sweet resolution of their love, joined by the product of their emerging manhood. Huw's lips rested against Simon's cheek. It felt so smooth and so soft, with not even a hint of the forming on his own face. He found the sweet remnants of his own orgasm. He gathered a drop of the dew on his tongue and moved his mouth towards Simon's. He pressed his tongue into Simon's waiting mouth and watched the expression in the deep green eyes as he tasted Huw's youthful essence gathered from his glowing cheeks.
Huw heard himself murmuring into Simon's ear: "I love you Si, I really do. I've wanted to do this since I first saw you."
"I love you too, Huwy. I've wanted this too, ever since the trip back from Joey's in the bus."
Huw lifted himself slowly to an upright position. He found a handkerchief in the drawer beside the bed and carefully cleaned the spunk from Simon's body and his own.
"I'll keep this handkerchief forever," he said. And he did, for many years, to remind him of the consummation of his first love, of Simon's seduction.
But for now the boys had the holidays ahead of them, streams to swim in, mountains to climb, thoughts and bodies to explore. It was to be the vacation of their lifetime that neither would ever forget.
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