The Embarrassment of Riches

The Embarrassment of Riches Chapter Nine: The Straight Boys

The people, places and events of this story exist only in my (and now your) imagination; therefore, any resembelences to real people, real places or real events would be really cool.

Monday morning in the depths of November; now was the winter of discontent.

A facade of frost and mist had rolled across Stirlingshire overnight. The cold morning – in the second week of the penultimate month – complemented Martin's mood and made him wish he could just stay in bed. He was not looking forward to going to school and seeing Connor, Kazuo, Matt and Sean; the four boys were sure to complicate things for him. They had seen him stark naked and watched him wanking on Saturday. He would see them today, that was for sure but what would he say, what would he do; moreover, what they hell would they say and do?

Martin's greatest fear was that they would tell people.

"Martin, hurry up. I have to get going," his dad said.

Martin pulled on his jacket and scarf over his school uniform and hurried out the front door.

Closer to the Earl of Lennox Boys School, the mist was starting to lift and a drizzle of rain retarded the progress of the frost. Martin's father tired to start a conversation that Martin was not keen to participate in.

"Your mum mentioned you were dating someone?" his dad said.

"Hmm," was Martin's only reply.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"He's older than you?"

"If you ask if I'm being careful I'm gonna throw up in the car."

His dad chuckled; "I get the feeling you don't want to talk."

"Not really," Martin replied harshly then regretted it; "I don't really want to talk about it but its fine. Everything is good."

"Oh really," his dad replied with a grin. They were stopped at a set of traffic lights so his dad turned and winked implicitly.

"Please stop that," Martin said.

"Ok. You seemed upset last night. What's wrong?" he asked.

What's wrong is that kids from school saw me naked and pumping my cock and then eating my cum, what do I do now?

"Nothing," Martin replied; "Nothing I want to talk about. But thanks."

The car came to a stop on the road outside the school grounds. Martin sauntered out and walked briskly towards the school. He felt a little stiff walking, hadn't appreciated how... invasive, was that the right word... having sex could be. Eventually getting inside, Martin stowed his jacket in the sixth year common room. The school was as warm as a balmy summer's day; Martin was quite comfortable in his trousers and shirt with the school tie and his blazer over the top.

Martin left the common room and made for the rotunda where students loitered at break times and in between classes. Martin recalled that there were a couple of guys who streaked through the hall a couple of years ago, there was rumours those boys were always up to hijinks. Martin needed to pee before registration class so popped into the toilets first.

Martin pissed, put it away, zipped up and was washing his hands at the sink when a shadow loomed over him. Perhaps it was a metaphorical shadow for it cast only when he looked into the mirror and spotted Connor.

"Hi, Martin," Connor said.

Martin had always been on good terms with Connor and his entourage but just now he felt small in their company. They were all there to see what Connor would say and what Martin would do.

"Connor," he replied.

Why the boy insisted on Connor was beyond Martin. Ephraim O'Connor – Martin thought it was a great name, the kind of name a politician might have if only Connor wasn't such a lad. He was as out of the closet as it was possible to be and no-one, even the few boys who might consider disapproving, would challenge Connor. Connor was powerful and charismatic; plus they were all students of an all boys school – gay was in!

"So, that part time job of yours..."

Martin didn't reply.

"I have a bet with Mitchell McMann," Connor threw in from the left field – Martin wasn't sure how the two were connected. "I've got an idea about his forfeit if he losses and I'd like you to help me out with it? What do you say?"

"Eh, I'd rather not," Martin replied.

Martin was well aware of Connor's bets around the school; he lost as many times as he won and his successes were as profound as his forfeits. Mitchell's involvement was in interesting note – he was attractive; brown hair and eyes, a bit of stubble to pretend he's more mature than he really is. Mitchell also had a great body; lean from being a natural athlete and competitive in even the most friendly of school football matches. Mitchell's final standout feature was his Yorkshire accent – subdued by the last four years on the fringe of civilisation, or rather Stirling, but still.

Actually that was not his final stand out feature, there was also the fact that he was kind of an asshole. A bully, one might say; especially to the junior boys in the school. Martin hoped, whatever it was, that Mitchell would loss the bet.

"You'd rather not, but that's not the same as no," Sean pointed out.

Martin half smiled and half grimaced – he liked Sean, he and his twin were identical but Martin could tell the difference by their eyes; Sean fancied him. It wouldn't have been something Martin either noticed or recognised until recently but the Pothos Emporium and E.J. had changed him very much.

"Can I say no?" Martin asked reasonably.

"Sure you can," Kazuo replied, "But we wouldn't recommend it."

The threat was low and inexplicit and false, the lads would never expose Martin really, but Martin didn't know that. Connor, Sean, Matthew and Kazuo had been friends a long time – friends with benefits – and after seeing Martin at the weekend, they were all keen to see more. Except for Matt who was straight so didn't care either way.

Martin sighed; "Ok, what is it?"

"Don't sound so glum, you'll love it," Connor declared.

"Should just point out... you haven't actually won the bet yet," Matt said.

"Oh, but I will."

"What is the bet?" Martin asked.

"Champions League," Connor said.

Martin looked blankly.

"Football," Connor elaborated.

"Yea, the blank look on my face wasn't because I didn't understand," Martin replied in a rare display of sarcasm – Sean laughed. "What do you win if Mitchell losses? What do you need me for?"

Connor nodded along; "I'm so glad you asked. There's a game on tonight, if Mitchell's chosen team wins I need to fool around with a girl he knows."

"Yuk," chucked in Sean while Matt made heaving noises.

"There's a girl just waiting for you to fondle her, is there?" Martin asked with some concern.

"Lauren something is a friend of Mitchell's girlfriend, apparently if she died tomorrow they'd bury her in a Y shaped coffin." Connor responded.

Martin, in fact all the boys, laughed at that one.

"Ok, fine. You must be pretty confident you'll not lose to accept that wager," Martin said, then asked; "So what do you win?"

"Well, I'm going straight for my bet and Mitchell is going gay... that's all I want to say at the moment, but I think we'll all enjoy it. The game is on tonight; we'll be in touch about the forfeit when I win," Connor stated.

When I win.

The arrogance of it, and yet Martin didn't doubt him for a moment.

Martin didn't follow football. Played it from time to time but didn't support a team himself. He wished he'd asked who was playing, and who was supporting which team. Monday night passed and Tuesday day flew by without any elaboration from Connor's brood.

Martin had a few classes with a combination of the boys but they refused to be drawn on the outcome of the bet. It was during the Wednesday interval between second and third period when Connor approached.

"Y'know you have a kind of loner vibe," Connor observed. "You should hang out with us."

Martin looked shocked by the invite – he hadn't always been a sad loner but his best friend had moved to Canada a year and a half ago and Martin had never invested in another friendship base.

"Yea, maybe," Martin said.

"You're a fuckin' hot guy. You do know that?" Connor told Martin. "Seriously," he lowered his tone to a sotto voice; "When we watched you beat off in that window? I thought I was gonna cream my pants."

Martin blushed.

It had been said at last. Out loud.

No-one else was listening, Martin knew Connor was not exposing or outing him. But it had been said out loud – acknowledged that it had happened and Connor and his friends knew about it. Whatever Martin was about to be asked to do, he would – he had to avoid the humiliation of being exposed to everyone. Martin had been excited when seen by `everyone' at the Pothos Emporium but school was different, right?

"So, did you win?"

"You bet your arse, I won!" Connor replied jubilantly.

"So, now what?" Martin asked.

"Now you meet us at in the changing room for P.E. ten minutes after the lunch bell goes."

Martin met Sean on the way, or rather Sean hurried to catch him up. The changing room was in a building behind the main school. A link corridor made of glass connected the gymnasium and its changing room to the main building. Past the main reception and the offices and the assembly hall, the link corridor led off from the corridor that ran up the side of the assembly hall and its associated stage.

"Had to pop to the loo, the rest of the guys are probably there already." Sean paused and watched Martin walk on down the corridor; "You ok, Martin?" he asked.

"Yea," Martin replied.

"Couldn't help but notice..." Sean started to say but seemed to reconsider.

Martin stopped and turned Sean towards him, the twin looked at Martin's hand where he touched him.

"I know you all saw me, Connor already mentioned it. So if you have something to say, just say it." Martin said, though he wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about it.

"Oh, I wasn't going to say anything about your display, honest." Sean had an innocence in his voice now; "I was going to say, well ask..."

"What?"

"Are you still a virgin?" Sean had the good grace to blush at the question.

Sean had checked Martin's arse out many times, he would have taken great delight in being the one to deflower him.

"Why, am I walking funny?" Martin asked a little grumpily.

"Maybe a little," Sean admitted. Really, he wasn't sure what it was that made him ask. He must have seen something, noticed some subtle change in Martin's gait perhaps. "I lost my virginity years ago. I just wondered..."

"Saturday," Martin admitted, interrupting Sean's musing – he might as well be honest, he wasn't embarrassed about it.

"I see," Sean said, nodding to himself, then he asked; "Do your farts still hurt?"

They were still laughing when they entered the changing room. Martin had planned, and succeeded, in arriving promptly. Whatever class had just left had left behind a funk of B.O. masked inadequately by a mist of deodorant. Sean joined Matt, who had made himself comfortable on one of the benches that rested against the side of the room. Kazuo and Connor were leaning against the bench that ran up the middle of the changing room, terminating a few meters from the wet room that held the showers.

"Great, the guest of honour is here," Kazuo said with sincerity.

"Second guest," Sean said; a play on the words `second best' but not intended to be taken diminutively.

The double entendre was well timed because Mitchell arrived at Martin's back before the group could give Martin more details on what was due to happen.

Mitchell gave Martin a dirty look; "What's he doing here?"

"Him? Martin?" Connor asked with mock incomprehension – why wouldn't he be here; "We're good friends, of course he's here."

"Didn't agree to that," Mitchell said.

"You agreed to my friends coming just like I agreed your friends could if I lost. But I didn't loss, did I?" Connor added with an edge to his voice.

"Yea, well. I'm not doing it. I was just going to not turn up, but I came to say to your face, I'm not doing it." Mitchell sounded tense.

"Yes you are," Connor said. Connor sounded relaxed.

"Nope, you can't make me neither," Mitchell said with a `just try it' smile.

"Well, I'm sure an honourable man like you won't back out. You would expect me to honour the bet if I lost. I expect you to honour the bet now." Connor said reasonably.

"Fuck off."

"See, the thing is this," Connor said calmly; "If you honour the bet and take your forfeit, no-one will ever know. I'm actually a man of my word so you have my promise. No-one will ever know. No-one here will ever tell a soul."

Mitchell looked bored.

"If on the other hand you... what was that word you used, Matt?"

"Renege," Matt said.

"Right, ta. If you renege, that means to go back on, on our bet... I'll tell everyone." Connor smiled with satisfaction.

Mitchell yawned.

"I don't mean I'll tell everyone you're a chump broke a bet," Connor said with continued placidity. "I mean I'll tell everyone about the forfeit."

Mitchell's attention snapped back; "Wait, what?"

"Yup, four against one. Sorry, five against one," Connor nodded to Martin. "If you keep your word and do it we'll not tell anyone. But if you refuse to do it, we'll just lie and tell everyone you did do it. And it's pretty filthy... I can't believe a guy like you would do that. But we'll tell everyone. We'll break the internet telling people."

The threat hung there for a long minute.

Mitchell swallowed hard, defeated; "Ok."

"Ok, what? Be clear, now. Tell everyone what you'll let us do that we'll never ever tell a soul about," Connor said as if guiding a small child.

"I'll let you all cum on me."

Martin didn't know what to say but his cock sprung a semi at the thought. Mitchell might not be a very nice person, but he was nice to look at. Cum on him? Boy was Martin glad he was invited along to this.

"Now, the deal was you would strip naked, kneel down..." Connor began.

"If one of you bastards put's your cock near my mouth, I'll fucking kill you," Mitchell threatened with sincerity.

"We know, we won't do that," Connor assured him.

"It can be a bit embarrassing being naked in front of people..." Connor began.

"I'm not scared of being seen, not even by you poofters," Mitchell said, a stab of regret at the insult that was beneath even him.

"Even so," Connor allowed; "It can be embarrassing being naked when we're all clothed and watching you. So one of us will strip too," Connor said.

Matthew, Sean and Kazuo turned their eyes on Martin.

"Martin, strip off."

Martin stood stock still. He was aware of all eyes on him – even, or especially, Mitchell's. Mitchell was no doubt wondering why but he never asked. In all likelihood he concluded Martin had lost a bet too. Martin didn't even put up a fight – didn't even make a sound. The lads had something over him too and this room was one that would hold secrets.

Martin slipped off his blazer and undid his school tie; he unbuttoned the shirt to reveal his chest and then slipped off his shoes and socks. The shirt slipped off and he unbuckled his belt; with a final unceremonious push his trousers and underwear went down to the ground. Martin could hear the minds of Connor and his associates – that he'd made more of a show of it last time they saw him strip.

Mitchell was surprised to see Martin totally naked. You see boys now and then in the showers after P.E. or at the gym – though the Symposium was not an athletic club Mitchell would visit again; he'd figured out there were a lot of gay men there. He was surprised because he knew the intention behind it and what was to come.

"Martin, why don't you help Mitchell undress," Connor said. He shot Mitchell a look before he could protest and added, "I insist."

Martin stepped forward and knelt to prompt each foot to be lifted; shoes and socks came off easily. Then Martin stood back up and looked into Mitchell's eyes as he pulled at the boy's tie. Mitchell was not wearing his blazer and the top button of his shirt was already undone; Martin made short work of the rest of them.

Martin dared an accidental brush of his hand on Mitchell's bare skin as he freed the bottom of the shirt from Mitchell's trousers and then slid the shirt off the shoulders. Martin dutifully extracted Mitchell's arms from each sleeve and set the shirt aside.

Martin rather thought Mitchell would draw a line as he reached for the belt, but he didn't, perhaps too numbed to stop him. Martin unbuckled the belt and unfastened his trousers; unzipped them and pulled the trousers wide open. Trendy brand-name boxers were contained within. Martin's hands slid over Mitchell's bare hips and pushed the trousers down – they landed at his ankles. Again Martin knelt, this time to pull each leg out before setting the trousers aside.

Mitchell had legs that were thick with muscle soft beneath the prickly hair covering them. Just the boxers left. The bulge inside was nice, but not engorged. Mitchell was straight and here he did draw the line. He held the waist of his boxers and Martin stood up.

Martin was fine with that anyway, he could stand back to watch the big reveal with the rest of the lads. Connor and co had greatly enjoyed the show so far and it was only just getting started. Finally, reticently, Mitchell shoved his boxers down and exposed his cock.

Mitchell really was a good looking lad. Especially good to look at naked.

Seventeen like the other boys in the room; the only difference was he wasn't gay. It was part of what made this so appealing to Connor and the others. There was no hiding the eyes that checked out Mitchell's penis. It was a fat thing dangling between his legs, with hefty hairy balls sitting behind it. His cock was topped by a mess of pubes and his chest was a nest of hair that would make him a bear in twenty years.

"On your knees," Connor said and then grinned; "I've never said that to a boy whose mouth I haven't put my dick in before."

Mitchell suppressed an angry growl at this. He wanted it over with though so he fell to his knees and waited.

"Boys," Connor prompted.

Connor unbuttoned his trousers and unzipped, he pulled his cock out Martin noticed the shaved pubic region he had seen many times before when showering after a swimming session. Mitchell just thought shaving there was weird.

The twin's also unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled out their cocks, small tidy patches of wiry hair topped their penises.

Finally Kazuo pulled out his meat; his pubes were black against the smooth mocha colour of his skin.

"Are you ready?" Connor asked.

Mitchell just nodded.

The five boys surrounding him started stroking to erection. They all sprung to six and a half inches, plus or minus half an inch. Except Martin – he was bigger; Mitchell noticed.

"Fuck," Mitchell said.

Connor laughed, "Really?" he asked.

"NO!" he said; "I just mean... it's..."

"Big," Kazuo finished for him.

"The word you're looking for is fuck," Sean said ironically.

Mitchell, naked and on his knees could not look at the four clothed boys standing over him, nor the one naked boy with the really big penis. He was straight and this was disgusting; not because he hated gays or anything, he didn't. Quite simply he was not gay so this was... not appealing.

The five cock's were pumped more and more, five eyes looking at Mitchell's naked body and waiting to be violated and degraded. At least they weren't putting anything in his mouth or his arse! At least they weren't going to piss on him or any of the other thoughts that Mitchell could not destroy.

Five cocks, waiting to cum on him; could it get any worse?

Mitchell's phone rang.

Martin was rather enjoying himself. Sure, he was naked when everyone else was still dressed – apart from Mitchell obviously – but that's ok. He was watching four hard cock's being stroked; as a seventeen year old gay lad, that was a hot sight to hold in his mind's eye. The ringing of a phone disturbed his reverie.

Without being prompted, Martin let go of his cock and turned his back –the lads checked out Martin's naked bum. Even Mitchell couldn't help but look – I was right fucking there, inches from his face. Mitchell hadn't thought much about that – they were all inches from his face; how many inches in a centimetre? No, think metric: 2.5cm in an inch. So they were maybe quarter of a metre away at most – cock's ready to fire.

Martin turned back with the ringing phone, holding it in one hand while the other fiddled with the pre-cum on his penis.

"Clara, who's Clara?" Martin asked.

"My girl friend," Mitchell replied.

"Put it on speaker phone and get back to it, Martin," Connor instructed.

The other lads smiled, beamed, grinned like Cheshire cats.

Martin lay the phone at Mitchell's feet – actually his knees for his was kneeling before the horney boys. Before standing again, he hit speaker phone.

Mitchell was half way through shouting "No!" when the line connected.

"Mitch?"

"Ye- yes?"

"Are you ok, were you saying something?"

Could she tell something was wrong?

Five cocks pointed at him and he was chatting to his girlfriend.

Could she hear the slapping of their hands or the sort of slurping noise of foreskin retracting, lubricated with pre-cum?

"Eh... No, not saying a thing," Mitchell answered; "Can I call you back?"

"Don't you want to talk?"

"I'm at school."

"Me too, so? Listen, Mitch, are you..." they heard a stifled cry. "Are you cheating on me?"

"What? No." He sounded genuine.

"I just figure you avoided me this weekend," she said.

Mitchell flushed a red as deep as the cock head's pointed at him.

"I was with the boys," given his present company he added; "We were just hanging out, I hadn't seen enough of them."

Connor and the others smirked appreciatively at the double entendre.

"So you're not seeing anyone else?" she asked happily; "Not... fooling around with anyone else."

Define fooling around, hen. If you could see him now you might thinks he was.

The twins and Kazuo were close to cumming and Connor had told them to cum whenever they were ready. No matter what.

"No, defiantly not," Mitchell answered

Then the first shot came; then another, from a second cock; and then another from another cock.

Matthew, Sean and Kazuo continued to burst their balls as Mitchell placated his girlfriend. They had to stifle their moans of climax.

"What was that?" Clara asked, who knows what she heard.

Mitchell could barely answer now. Cum had hit his face, just below his eye; on his forehead and in his hair. Subsequent ropes fell on his cheek and chest, dribbling onto his nipples.

Connor came next, firing into straight boy Mitchell's face and hitting his nose, his lip and dousing his chest hair. His lip! Mitchell wanted to spit and wretch but it was suppressed by the girl on the end of the phone.

"Ok, honey. I love you," said Clara.

Martin's final stroke took him over the edge too and he came from a side angle, a big glob of cum spattering on Mitchell's cheek. Martin's long legs took a single sidestep so that his next rope of cum could hit the equally naked Mitchell on the chin; final ebbing spurts dribbled down to Mitchell's abs and pooled in the pubes above his cock.

His cock, to Mitchell's heterosexual credit, had not sprung an erection. Mitchell was consoled by this, his self-esteem might not have taken it if he had enjoyed watching five boys wank on him.

"I love you too," Mitchell replied, finally wiping the cum from his lip but only making more of a mess of his hand.

The girl hung up and Mitchell stood.

The five gay boys were all spent now, four of them putting everything away in their underwear and trousers.

"You never tell anyone, got it?" Mitchell said unnecessarily.

"Scouts honour," Connor replied.

"I need a fucking shower," Mitchell said, laying his phone beside his clothes.

"You want a hand with that?" Kazuo asked with hope in his tone.

"Get bent."

"That would be a no, then Kaz?" Matt said, patting Kazuo sympathetically on the shoulder but they both laughed.

A second later they heard the shower running in the wet room and Mitchell was obscured behind a wall.

Martin had sat down to pull on his clothes and was half dressed, in fact pulling his shirt on when Connor spoke in hurried and hushed tones.

"Do you think it's occurred to him he has no towel?" Connor asked with a gleam in his eye.

"I think it slipped his mind," Martin replied bemused.

"Martin, hurry up and get your kit on!" Sean said.

Martin suddenly realised there was haste around him. Matt was stuffing all of Mitchell's belongings into a bag.

"We agreed to tell no-one," Matt said.

Martin's shirt was all but buttoned up; he pulled his blazer on and put his tie around his neck to be done later.

"And we won't tell anyone," Sean added.

"But he's still a big fucking bully," Kazuo chipped in.

Matt, Sean and Kazuo were leaving the changing room with all of Mitchell's stuff. They were leaving the straight boy stranded – bare ass naked; nowhere to go, nothing to wear and no way to call anyone.

"We'll leave his stuff in the common room," Connor said. "Now, c'mon Martin, the third year boys will be here any second."

Martin no longer dreaded school. He had returned home happier after making up with E.J. and then having sex with him; so too did he return from school having settled the shadow that was Connor and his cohorts. The shadow no long loomed ominously over him.

But Martin was still rather too trusting and naive – he didn't realise that his compliance today had shown the other boys he could be manipulated. Martin would learn though. He had enjoyed being manipulated. It had felt good. Martin would have fond memories of seeing the other boy's cocks, even Mitchell's flaccid uncut penis had been a beautiful sight. For a gay boy, Martin was learning he needed to get out more.

"Your mum is stuck in surgery," his dad said a few hours after school.

"Ok," Martin replied, not looking up from his homework.

"I'll go ahead and put some dinner on, yea?"

"Ok," Martin replied, he was nearly finished.

His dad waited until Martin's concentration had returned to the world around him before speaking again.

"Your mum and I wanted you to have something," Tony McGuigan said.

Martin's brow formed a worried set of lines, "What?"

His dad retrieved a brown envelope which he handed over, "Pictures of you and your real... your birth mum."

Martin took the envelope gingerly. He wasn't sure what to make of this; he had read her first letter, he assumed it was the first, i.e. that there would be more. He pulled out the collection of photo's that had been arranged in order. They were bound in another letter – a note at least:

Martin, these are some photos of you from 1999.

You were a pretty baby. Please excuse the mess of a girl holding you.

Laura. X

"Do you know anything about my dad?" Martin asked.

He hadn't looked through the photo's yet, he wanted to do it when he was alone but his only correspondence so far had been with the girl who gave birth to him: Laura.

"No, not much. Laura spoke and wrote very little about him. We have more letters from her to you but your mum and I were worried giving you everything at once might be overwhelming." Martin's dad responded carefully.

Tony was careful to avoid calling Laura "your mum" – he wanted to draw a line under Tony and Miriam McGuigan being Martin's parents. They were the one's who had raised, fed, nurtured, taught him. Tony wanted the line underlined, highlighted and exclamation pointed.

"Ok. I know," Martin answered. "My m... Laura. She is dead... isn't she?" Martin asked.

His dad nodded once, sharply, his face a mixture of sadness and fear.

"Oh, yes son. Yes, she's dead." Tony answered. "It was so sad," he said and his voice made it clear how much he meant it. "She wished... she wished you were ready. To meet her when she was sick."

"I wasn't," Martin answered.

He could tell his dad, much like his mother, was somewhat uncomfortable talking about his birth mum. Laura was a topic they treated like an explosive that, if it went off, it would go off in their faces.

"I don't think I could have met her when I was eleven. I'm still soft in the head now," Martin forced as a joke, but meaning it too; "I'm still a bit feeble. You could sell me a chocolate teapot."

His dad smiled but did not agree. Martin excused himself to go look at the pictures. He had been a beautiful baby boy – happy in the young girl's arms. She really had been young when she gave birth, too young; barely in her teens. No wonder she wasn't ready for him. She looked tired and scared but... pretty. He wondered what kind of young woman she became before dying – while still a young woman. He could see his smiling face; laughing, bright eyes, soft blond hair, tiny fingers, chubby legs.

Martin blinked back tears.

Connor was a happy chappy as he had walked home. He called Tom twice before getting through; Tom had been in a lecture the first time. Connor wanted to tell Tom about his day and what a day it was. It sounded like a bastardisation of Cluedo: Mitchell, in the changing room with the circle jerk.

Tom admitted the story captured his imagination. Later that evening, Tom told the story again. Calvin, Johnnie, and Daniel were huddled together in the lounge. They all had essays or studying to be getting on with, but an hour out wouldn't hurt. Victor arrived in time for the good bit; since moving out of the Halls he had taken to popping in for a few hours after going to the Symposium. His hair still had the faintest whiff of chlorine.

"That's a good story," Victor admitted.

"That's a bloody good story," Daniel chipped in.

There was a big question mark over who this Martin boy was, but they all had good imaginations.

"E.J. is going out with someone called Martin," Victor said; "Said the lad was younger."

"Yea, I saw him at the Halloween party," Johnnie recalled; "He's defiantly younger."

"Are we getting off track here?" Calvin said.

"What track were we on?" Johnnie asked, patting Cal's arm.

"We were talking about straight boys," Calvin said.

Cal turned to Johnnie and smiled knowingly; it took Johnnie a minute to get it.

"Oh yea," Johnnie announced, drawing a few looks from around the room; "You're talking about Ben-e," Johnnie stumbled over the name as if the word were hard to say, his head flashed with pain for a moment. A migraine? Must be, it was just a headache making it hard to concentrate. "Benedict," Johnnie said as the pain settled.

The others didn't know what they were talking about. Those two went way back, they had many stories with each other; Daniel, Victor and Tom were waiting to hear this one.

"About two years ago, Johnnie and I made a bet," Calvin said.

Why did so many stories start with that?

Calvin and Johnnie were seventeen at the time. So was Benedict Baird; a big, broad shouldered lad, with thick black hair, dark brown eyes and pink lips. Calvin and Johnnie were well known for their tomfoolery and gregariousness; pranks, bets and always messing around. Stories of their exploits went on to inspire others – like Connor and his group.

In contrast, Benedict was quieter, more humble and more reserved. Rugby was his sport of choice, hence the broad build, big upper body and strong limbs. In the first few years at the Earl of Lennox Boys School, many had assumed Benedict was gay because he was calm, softly spoken and clever. But as more and more boys experimented with their sexuality (it's an all-boys school, use your imagination), Ben never did. As many boys came out of the closet, Ben was never in one.

For some, it was a surprise that Benedict was an uncompromising heterosexual. But therein lay the fun, the challenge, the bet. Calvin bet Johnnie he could get Benedict to suck his cock. Calvin suspected, or hoped, Ben was curious or questioning. Cal had always been gay and never curious about girls but maybe, just maybe, he could persuade Ben to indulge in the harmless experimentation that so many other boys had tried and abandoned years ago.

Cal knew Benedict had never experimented but had always wondered if he was curious.

Calvin, nor Johnnie for that matter, was not cruel; he didn't want to humiliate or hurt or use Ben. Calvin was curious (in a different way) – curious if a straight boy could be persuaded, curious if a straight boy would like it – curiouser and curiouser. Although Benedict was straight, he was friendly and hand no qualms about keeping company with the boys who were raging homosexuals.

Gay friendly; Cal hoped gay very-friendly.

So Calvin set out to seduce him. It was early in February; prelim exams had passed and Cal and Johnnie had passed with flying colours. Johnnie's results were slightly more impressive which had led to the common room incident last Friday – Cal was still trying to think about that.

"Morning, Ben," Calvin said conversationally.

Monday morning, ten minutes before the school day kicked in. Students were milling about everywhere – the rotunda was a noisy place.

"Hi, Cal," replied Benedict; he looked Calvin up and down before adding, "I almost didn't recognise you with your clothes on."

Bloody common room.

Calvin laughed; "Yea, that was a good show. Did you enjoy it?"

"Me?" he replied with raised eyebrows. "I think Johnnie enjoyed it more."

"C'mon, who doesn't enjoy a bit of nudity and dry humping."

"Wasn't dry from where my shoes were standing," Ben said amiably; "You want to explain to my dad how I got cum on my trainers?"

"Depends," responded Calvin; "Is your dad good looking?"

"Yuk."

Calvin laughed. This was a good opening.

"So," Cal started; "Let me ask you something..."

"No."

"You don't know what I'm going to ask."

"Defiantly no."

"Ben," Cal said more softly as he put his hand on Ben's knee. "I'm not joking around for once."

Benedict looked at the hand on his knee.

"I've seen you in the showers," Cal added, bit of a sidestep but this would be tricky. "You're a good looking guy."

Ben laughed and removed Cal's hand.

"Goodbye," he said; standing to go.

But not going. Interesting.

"Ben, wait."

Benedict looked down at Calvin and sat back down.

"You must know guys check you out in the showers."

"Of course I do," Ben said flatly.

"Right, I mean you must look at yourself in the mirror and spring wood sometimes," Cal guessed.

Ben blushed, "Everyone does that."

"Right, yea. But..." Cal left a gap.

"But?"

"You ever wonder what you're stroking off to when you look at yourself?" Calvin asked.

"I'm not gay, Cal," Ben insisted; not insulted at the thought however. Just fact checking.

"I know. I just wonder... if... you've ever tried it?" Cal asked.

That was sloppy. Stupid.

"Tried it? No, I've never tied cancer either, though, so..." Ben chuckled at his own facetious comeback.

"Have you ever looked at a boy in the shower?" Cal asked.

Ben didn't answer.

"Ok, you're not gay. Checking out how big a guy is in the shower isn't gay, it's curious – questioning. It's Q on the LGBTQA spectrum. But that's what I'm saying, that's what I mean; I want you to be curious... with me... today... Do you want to answer the question?" Calvin was getting cheeky now.

A long pause.

"How curious do you want me to be?" Ben asked slowly.

Result!

The thing is, you can't seduce a straight man. Not really – only in fiction. You ever watch gay men seduce straight men' in porn? Hate to break it to you, they're not straight. We enter semantic territory with gay for pay' so let's not. So, Ben was as straight as one can be while still willing to follow a boy who's about to propose putting his dick in that person's mouth.

It was a risk starting the conversation before the first bell even went – the best chance they had was lunch time so they agreed to meet in the assembly hall at the start of lunch. Cal's intention was to go up on stage where there would be plenty of room for them both but where, behind the curtain, they could not be seen. Not being seen would appeal to shy Ben who defiantly would not want to be seen doing what he was about to try.

`Give it a go' was a phrase that ran through Ben's head in the hours before lunch. Give it a freakin' go? What's wrong with you? What was wrong was that Ben had never been attracted to men but there was something about the idea of living for another fifty or sixty years and never having tried what other boys had; taken a risk, exploring a male body that was not his own... not giving it a go. Besides, males weren't unattractive – Cal was right, Ben loved checking himself out while jerking off.

Calvin arranged for Johnnie to hide back stage. The curtain hung at the front of the stage, at the back was a false partition behind which equipment and props and paraphernalia mostly used by the drama department but also P.E. and the off art stuff was contained. At the top of the partition (itself over 2 meters tall) was a gap of nearly half a meter, Johnnie could peek over that; just like peeking over a toilet stall.

The lunch bell want and Cal made his way to the assembly hall; he slipped in without being seen, no-one was looking – no-one cared. The hall was dark so Calvin tread carefully towards the stage and sat up on it, facing the door. Several doors actually – the assembly hall had three sets of double doors leading into it.

Benedict pushed in through the middle door five minutes later.

"Calvin?" Ben called softly.

"At the front," Cal replied.

Cal pulled out his phone and put the torch on then waved it at Ben like a lighthouse; albeit a lighthouse luring him in rather than warding him off. Ben climbed up on stage and they slipped behind the curtain.

Cal was uncertain if Johnnie was in position to watch but since he ought to be, Cal proceeded.

"So, are you ready?" Calvin asked.

"I'm not sure," Ben replied honestly.

"Let's say you're never sure and get going, yea?" Cal asked, not wanting to risk Ben getting cold feet.

Cal slipped off his school blazer and dumped it on the floor. Then he pulled his tie off and started to unbutton his shirt; once it was half undone, Calvin untucked it and pulled it off.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Ben asked, looking around as if anyone might see him.

There was no-one there. They had checked the stage door and knew it to be locked so the only way in was via the assembly hall and they would hear if someone came in that way.

"I'm getting undressed," Cal replied; "I'm at my most comfortable in the buff."

Ben was not comfortable with it. He looked up while Cal continued to undress; the only light that was on was a spot light directly above them. Ben's eyes were dazzled when he looked back, just in time to see Calvin to take his underwear off.

Calvin was now naked and Ben could see Cal's smooth skin and athletic build. Cal was not as big as Ben – as tall perhaps, but not as big-built. He was lean however and attractive. Cal stroked his cock a couple of times and then let go. Almost-hard at six inches, Cal smiled at Ben.

"You want to touch it?" Calvin asked.

Ben swallowed hard. He had never touched a dick that wasn't his own; never even thought about it. But here and now Benedict realised that all he had ever needed was the right person to lead him astray.

Benedict reached out and turned his palm up, lifting his hand slowly until Calvin's weighty penis rested in his hand; Cal noted that Ben's hands were cold, but his cock would warm it up, Ben's thumb and fingers closed around it. Calvin took a step closer, now less than ten inches from Ben; three inches if you count his erection. Ben pulled his hand back towards him so his hand slid up the shaft and then pushed it away until his thumb could feel the hair on Calvin's balls.

Ben let out short breaths as he handled Calvin's dick and stared at it; transfixed by the bulging organ and smooth head.

"Hey, dude. My face is up here," Calvin joked.

Benedict looked up and blushed but smiled too when he saw Cal's face lit up in humour.

"Kneel down," Calvin said; his voice somewhere between forceful instruction and gentle persuasion.

Benedict knelt, he could have backed off but didn't; he stayed close to Cal and his big hard cock.

"I don't really know how..." Ben started to say but was actually too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

"Kiss it," Calvin said.

Ben leaned in and kissed Calvin's gleaming knob. His lips took away with them a sliver of pre-cum – long and sliver and sticky like a spider's web gliding from cock to lips. Benedict licked his lip but didn't grimace at the taste. He kissed it again, longer and with a bit more pressure. Then, as kissing tends to advance, he started to use his tongue; it flitted out, licking Calvin's head. Pre-cum was leaking from the urethral orifice, licked away by the sweep of Ben's tongue.

"Now lick it, all the way from tip to root," Cal said.

Ben's tongue extended and he licked the underside from halfway down the shaft to the head, then again. As Ben grew more bold and curious, he licked longer strokes. It was weird when he started to lick the whole thing; feeling the hair on Cal's balls on the tip of his tongue and then the smooth, sleek and wet shaft of skin beneath his tongue.

Cal was enjoying this, he didn't dare look to see if Johnnie was watching but he was sure his fined was. And Johnnie would be enjoying it too. Calvin looked down at the fully clothed straight boy in his school uniform and moaned; Cal raised his arms linked his hands behind his head.

Ben's eyes looked up and could see Calvin's exposed pits. The hair sprouting from them; the hair on Calvin's legs; the trail of hair from above the cock to his navel. These were things Ben had never seen, noticed or experienced before in his sexual encounters with the opposite sex.

Ben's head lifted so he could lick the top of Calvin's hard penis too; now the whole thing was wet and slippery.

"Lick my balls too," Cal asked.

Ben did that too; the ball sac was tough and tight and covered with wiry hair; though not much for Cal was not especially hirsute.

"Open your lips now. Take the whole head past your lips but be careful with your teeth," Cal had a thrill from the instruction of a novice.

Ben really had never played with boys but he was doing a good job – an adequate job at least. Ben's moist lips parted and he took the glans in his mouth; it rested on his bottom lip while his swept over it and as he continued to nurse the head of Calvin's penis, it slipped in and out of his mouth. Ben slowed down and the penis fell out his mouth, bobbing before his eyes.

"Purse your lips," said Calvin gently; "I'll help you."

Ben looked up and nodded. He opened his mouth and made an oh shape with his lips; it would be a tight squeeze for Calvin's cock but the lips would part as he pushed in and hopefully Ben would open wide if he felt a cock touch his teeth.

Calvin placed his cock against Ben's waiting mouth and began to slowly slide his cock in. There was little effort from Ben now as he waited to accommodate the organ entering his mouth. Cal didn't push too far, only three inches or so, before sliding his cock out. Then Cal slid it in again, and out, and in...

Each push in it want deeper.

"Start using your tongue, tightening you lips, moving your head," said Calvin.

Ben's previously idle hands came to rest on Cal's thighs as he started to comply with the instruction. One needs a little instinct for cock sucking but Ben was having a good go at it – trying things he had felt a girlfriend do to him and attempting to emulate it. Ben was keeping his eyes closed though, had done since Cal started pushing his cock deeper into his face. Ben's hands slid down the sides of Calvin's thighs and towards the knees; it was a strange thing, not at all like his straight experiences. Ben could feel the hair on Calvin's thighs and as his hands went lower, the wiry feeling beneath his fingers persisted as Ben stroked Calvin's lower legs.

His mouth felt filled up; Ben was breathing though his nose. His nose, that was another thing; as Ben took more of Calvin's cock in his mouth than he would have thought possible (Cal was equally surprised), Ben could feel an itch on his nose as the bush of pubes above Calvin's penis touched his nose.

The cock popped out of Ben's mouth so he took the opportunity to touch it again, gripping the slippery organ in his fist and drawing his wet tongue across the slit again, then licking his way around the ridge of Calvin's penis. All things he thought would excite him – they excited Cal too.

Calvin was getting close to blowing now; his hands fell from behind his head and touched the top of Benedict's head. Ben was swirling his tongue around the head of Cal's cock again before taking the cock back in his mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, you've done so good, don't stop," Cal said in short breaths.

Ben didn't stop, he kept sucking until he felt the creamy discharge from Calvin's cock and when it didn't stop cumming he pulled away, the final spurt smearing on his lips and dribbling to the floor. Ben was surprised by the taste and sensation of cum filling his mouth. Salty or sweet – that's what he'd always heard; this was both, yet neither.

Calvin dropped to his knees and kissed Ben until Ben's lips parted and tongues stated to exchange; cum transferred to Calvin's mouth. Ben had kissed girls but never another boy before, this was also a first and it was also not what he had expected. Cal was soft and gently but passionate and his tongue slithered in and out of Ben's mouth.

Finally Ben stopped the kissing and swallowed whatever was left of Calvin's cum.

Ben was at a loss for what to do next. The experience had been unexpectedly... what? He couldn't quite say enjoyable; pleasant perhaps? Cal stood up and turned – his bum right in Ben's face. Could Ben imagine having sex with it? Maybe if he tried, but he didn't. While Calvin's back was turned, Ben gripped his penis – still soft – it hadn't been excited by what he'd done.

Cal pulled on his underpants and turned back to face Ben; "Are you ok?"

Ben nodded.

"I'm ok," the straight lad returned once he found his voice. At Calvin's sceptical look, Ben got up off his knees and added; "No offence but... You're just not my type."

Calvin laughed at that.

"You know some dirty-ass straight boys," Victor said.

"You guys still see this Benedict guy?" Tom asked; he winked playfully and then asked, "Ever remind him of your little moment?"

"Nah," Calvin replied.

"He's studying in America somewhere now," Johnnie added.

"So you watched the whole thing?" Daniel asked Johnnie.

Johnnie nodded – it felt strange now. Now other people fooling around with Calvin made him jealous but at the time it had been hot. They'd had sex after it. Twice.

"I have a question," said Tom; "What's the story with the common room?"

Johnnie laughed out loud and opened his mouth to speak but Cal thumped his arm playfully.

"That's another story," Calvin said.

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If you are enjoying this story, I have also written:

School Exhibitionism - see the High School section: July 14 2007. [Thanks to the fan for pointing out I'd misspelled this story title]

The Symposium - see the Authoritarian or Athletics section: Sept 15 2015.