The following story is pure fiction. It contains descriptions of sexual acts performed by and between teenage boys.
If you are offended by this kind of material or, even worse, if you are easily bored by stories going beyond the bare necessities of sexual lovemaking, it's time for you to hit the key. You have been warned.
I do claim the copyright to the entire story. It may not be used for any commercial purposes without my prior written consent. Permission is hereby granted for storage on the Nifty and ASSGM archives.
Any comments, suggestions or friendly words of encouragement will be most welcome.
..........................................................................
The P.E. lesson by RaCo
'End of warm-up!' Mr. Briggs, the P.E. teacher, blew his whistle, 'All in a line along the wall, and get your sorry arses moving, you milksops!'
Briggs was fuming and it showed. His brows were raised and he looked like a steam-boiler ready to explode.
'You are the most miserable... incapable... bunch of chicken dicks I've ever come across...'
The school team's performance at yesterday's school district championship had been quite respectable, but Briggs was extremely hard to please. The former Army Sergeant was pacing up and down the line of 16 year old boys in the gym.
'In all my 30 years as a Penile Exercise teacher I've never seen such shameful failure.'
The boys stood there, heads down, their erections dwindling rapidly. Some were visibly trying to will up their boners again, but to no avail.
'Look at this...' Briggs was waving his little notebook in the air, 'cum shooting: Thatcher.. eight foot six, Monks.. seven foot three, Smith.. six foot five...'. Smith was sniffing audibly. 'My grandfather would do better than that!'
Wilkins lost his butt-plug and farted so loud that the whole hall was humming. 'Out!!!!', yelled Briggs.
'Radcliffe...' a dark-haired boy at the end of the line turned bright crimson, 'care to explain why you failed so miserably? 54 seconds to orgasm in sprint wanking. Or you, Finnegan? 113 seconds in the same discipline...'
Someone was giggling. Briggs shot around and immediately spotted the offender. 'You, Henderson, of all people? 14 minutes 12 for a triple orgasm we've been practising for a whole year... had the referees yawning .... thought you'd never make it. O'Leary... tragically faltering after the second, which was nothing more than a mere dribble, anyway...'
Mike O'Leary was looking at the floor, scratching his balls.
'Thetford-Maidenstead... a ridiculous 3 pounds 3 ounces in weight-lifting... My grandmother lifts more with her tongue than you with that dead snake of yours!' The subject of this attack was shrinking visibly and the foreskin slid back over its head as if to protect it from further verbal abuse.
'And I'm still saving the best... Higgins, what devil got into you, yesterday? 7 minutes 27 in endurance.... spilled his juices after 7 lousy minutes 27... Made us the laughing stock of the whole bloody competition!'
Terry Higgins was holding his dick and looking at it with a blank expression.
'If it hadn't been for a few dedicated individuals we'd be the talk of the whole district, today.' Briggs snorted.
By then, all erections had gone with the sole exception of Steven Bishop's, the County Junior League's top-rated triple orgasmer and teacher's pet.
'Well then, free training for the rest of this period...' Briggs gave them all a last, despising sneer and withdrew into his elevated seat in a corner to survey the pupils' work.
'Oh and... almost forgot... the parents' association has at last provided the funds for buying new penis enlargement pumps. Humphreys, Thomas and Ingram, go and get them from the equipment store.'
The boys spread over the hall and a group of four went to the storeroom to fetch the long, shallow trays of sand needed for the cum shooters' training. Most boys, with the obvious exception of the endurance athletes, had begun to masturbate themselves or do whatever was necessary to stimulate their bodies in the most appropriate way for their discipline.
'Careful with those pumps...' Briggs shouted across the hall to those avidly trying them out, 'they're new and you don't want to hurt yourselves.'
Soon, the hall was filled with boys busy with their training for the various disciplines. The weight-lifters had put on their sturdy cock-rings and the wide leather ribbons thrown across the heads of their hard-ons with round metal weights attached to the other end. They were a sight to behold, tensioning all their muscles to give their erections more strength.
Terence Marley, a handsome 17 year old Caribbean and the captain of the weight-lifters, was preparing himself for a try with the five pound weight and Rob Jenkins was helping him, standing bent over with his butt up in the air and letting Marley use his rear to build an even stronger erection for lifting this extranordinarily big weight.
Again, Marley had his enormous black dick in Jenkins' arse, slowly fucking but carefully watching not to over-stimulate himself and cum inside the other boy. With a slurping sound, he withdrew his mighty organ, a beauty of over ten inches and the result of hard and disciplined work with the pump. Another boy had kept the leather ribbon with the weight ready and put it over Marley's dick head, still suspending the weight in his other hand.
The boy slowly lowered his hand with the weight until it hung free and was completely carried by Marley's dick. Clicking on the stopwatch, the assistant began to check the 10 seconds which the weight has to remain up for a valid try. Just when his fist shot up in the air to announce successful completion of the exercise, Marley let out a loud yelp and came without touching himself in wild spurts while the ribbon and the weight dropped to the floor. Fantastic timing! Lifted the weight right at the exact moment before cumming, when an erection is strongest.
Only Jenkins looked disappointed. Unnoticed because of all the excitement about the heavy weight, he had cum while Marley had been up his butt. Well, this has happened to the best of us, at some time, and nobody needs to be ashamed of it. Understandably, Jenkins wouldn't be doing much weight-lifting, for the rest of the training.
Heavy panting from the opposite side of the hall bore witness to the efforts of the endurance athletes to hold back their orgasm while the two boys who acted as their sparring partners were giving their best as wankers and teasers, as you'll all know their respective functions are called in this highly competitive sport.
Young Kenneth Rawlings was lying on his back, his feet and hands strapped to the bench, fighting with gritted teeth while the Jones twins were giving him one heck of an exercise. David, his wanker, was urgently stroking Ken's dick with one hand and had two fingers of the other hand up his arse. A copious flow of precum showed how expertly the wanker was treating Kenneth's prostate. Sweat ran down his forehead and his whole body was glistening. At the same time, Peter, Ken's teaser, was working his nipples, gently tickling them, only to squeeze them even harder, just seconds later.
Briggs came along and stopped to check Ken's performance. 'Don't hold your breath, Rawlings, or you'll never make it. Breathe slowly and steadily, in... and out... in... and out... and relax... never tense your muscles... just... relax...'
The wanker turned his head towards Briggs, 'He's doing fine but we should work some more on his relaxing. I feel him clamping down on my fingers in his arse.'
'See what I mean...' Briggs replied, 'Have them fist you as an exercise, Rawlings... does wonders on relaxing.'
Just then, there were angry voices to be heard from the opposite side of the hall. The triple-orgasmers were complaining about the weight lifters' noise and claimed they were being disturbed in their training.
The fascinating discipline of triple orgasming or 'Xhia Yin Bao' (three white snowflakes), as it is known in Chinese had come to us only a decade ago and, to this day, is much less common than all the others. Many people claim that, like martial arts, it is a lot more than a mere sport. Developed thousands of years ago by pagean monks to perfect the spirit by gaining control over the body, it takes a very high degree of concentration and mental preparation to master this extremely difficult art.
Weight-lifters, on the other hand, aren't exactly known for whispering and tip-toeing and, so, the same conflict regularly erupted during each training period.
Stephen Bishop, highly talented but often sneered at by the others for being Briggs' favourite, sat cross-legged on the mat. He was wearing the snow-white jacket with the wide arms, losely draped around his shoulders and spread open at the front. Around his head, the purple head-band of a 7th grade fighter, quite an achievement for a boy of his young age.
Two more boys were sitting to his left and right, a bit further behind. Everybody with just a little sense for male adolescent beauty would have held his breath at the mere sight. 16 year old Stephen, blond, blue-eyed had a body which aptly expressed the harmony of his beautiful sport. He had just the right amount of muscles to give him pectorals which would have been the pride of an Italian sculptor, arms and legs which were strong and well trained but still in harmonic proportion to his youth, and a slender waist with nicely defined abdominal muscles.
The V-shaped open front of the jacket led the observer's eyes quite naturally to the very highlight of this scene, Stephen's dick, a perfectly formed 8-incher with a soft, heavy foreskin which covered most of the head even when the wonderful organ was fully erect. Below, his scrotum carried two heavy, low-hanging balls of just the right size.
After bowing, as is customary, three times toward the spectators, Stephen began to stroke his dick very gently in the so-called 'lotus grip', holding it from above with the thumb on the upper side of the glans and the tips of his long fingers gliding along the front of the shaft. His touch was so light that there was no visible movement of the foreskin. His bearing was perfect, his face with the closed eyes and even features showed the great mental equilibrium and calm needed for this exercise. Only the heaving of his chest hinted at the enormous effort involved.
In a wide, gracious movement, his right hand let go of his dick and his left took over, this time using just two fingers, thumb and index finger, for further stimulation. His other hand was now resting between his legs, its middle finger gently pressing against 'Zhao Dong Min' (great source of delight), that highly sensitive spot, just beneath the scrotum. His lips were slightly parted and one had rarely seen a sight of greater harmony and dedication, so humble and impressive at the same time.
No-one but a real connoisseur of this great art would have been able to spot the moment when the slightest irregularity in Stephen's breathing announced the oncoming orgasm. Only his breath gave away the powers unleashed in his loins while creamy white sperm covered his chest and stomach. The boys to his sides rang little bells which they had been hiding in the wide arms of their grey apprentices jackets.
All through this, Stephen's hand had continued to lightly stroke his dick and, just a minute later, his chest was heaving again, more cum hit his stomach and the boys rang their bells for the second time.
Stephen's left hand let go of his dick and he put both hands on his knees. His breathing grew heavier and there was a sheen of sweat forming on his body. The veins in his temples were pulsating visibly. He was sitting absolutely still, but the tension could be felt all around him. Then, with a shout, he went into his third orgasm, the 'Dai Huo Yun' (great flying dragon). Spurt after spurt of cum hit his face and shot up into the air while the two boys were ringing their bells for the third time. Then, they swiftly moved behind Stephen who fainted into their arms.
In another corner of the hall, a group of sprint wankers had attracted a circle of spectators around them. They were preparing for a few one-on-one fights. Already, those not involved in the next fight were helping to prepare the cold washcloths soaked in ice-water which were needed for keeping the contestants' dicks down until the beginning of a fight. Another boy had to take care of the stopwatch and give the starting commands.
Next were Timmy Barnes and Jim Duncan, two experienced sprint wankers. Quickly, a few bets were placed by the spectators and the round began. The timekeeper raised his stopwatch, 'Ready... hands on... wank!!!'
The two boys were wanking furiously and the spectators were shouting their names. Both were right-handed and had their left hands between their legs, squeezing their balls. With a sharp intake of air, Duncan shot his first wad, followed by Barnes, only a second later.
Sixpence coins were passed to the winners of the betting and the next two contestants prepared themselves.
Right across the hall, the cum-shooters were doing strength- building exercises like standing with wide-spread legs, raising and slowly lowering, by the force of their rectal muscles, weights hanging from the butt-plugs they were wearing, an exercise well-known for its beneficial effect on the parts needed to achieve powerful ejaculations.
Just then, Tommy Hillman-Banks, a promising young cum-shooter, was preparing for a shot. He had dropped his butt-plug and was slowly stroking his dick. As one of the few circumsized boys on the team, he had applied lots of vaseline to his beautiful tool, a massive looking 7 1/2 incher, the ideal size for shooting. If nature cooperated and his dick wouldn't be growing much more, one would be hearing quite a lot of this young athlete within the next years. Still stroking himself, he advanced to the sand box. As the rules prescribe, he held the other hand behind his back. Everybody who is familiar with this sport will know that cum-shooters are only allowed to stimulate themselves with just one hand.
Hillman-Banks stood on the line in front of the sand box taking one last look at the box and then closing his eyes to concentrate fully on the shot. Still stroking in an effort to build up more pressure he opened his eyes again to correct his aiming and delicately teased his glans a few times, right below the frenulum.
At last, he took his dick in a firm grip, closed his eyes and after only a moment's hesitation gave himself a few well-measured strokes, arched back and shot most of his cum in one big gob across half of the sand box. Then, with a wild cry, he bucked his hips forward and the second gob flew out and went much further than the first. What perfect technique! Shot the big heavy load first and then used the second, much stronger spurt to carry the lighter load almost all the way over the box.
Even Briggs who had joined the spectacle was visibly impressed though he would never say so.
All the boys who had seen this great shot broke out in applause, while Tommy stood there, panting but with a big smile and waving his dick in triumph. Everybody patted his back and one boy even took Tommy's dick in his hand, turning it forth and back, and inspected it admiringly.
Next to the cum-shooters' training area, a number of boys were trying the new penis-enlargement pumps and were clearly pleased with them. No expense had been spared to give these great young athletes the best tools money could buy. Many boys had their own pumps at home but those whose parents couldn't afford such expensive equipment were grateful to be given the chance to perfect their organs, at school. They had even been told they could come in, in the afternoons, for additional sessions.
Even the boys who had their own pumps admitted that theirs weren't as sophisticated as these. Calibrated scales allowed for the exact setting of the vacuum and there was a great choice of inserts to accomodate all shapes and sizes because the dicks of boys at this age vary a lot more than when they're older, and pumps of the wrong size or force pose a constant risk of injury or they have no effect, at all.
Every boy was given a five minute turn with a pump and then had to rest and work his dick with his hands for ten minutes, taking the greatest care not to cum, before being allowed to use the pump for another five minutes. Immediately before and afterwards, his dick was measured and the result recorded to monitor the progress made.
Only Marley, the weight-lifters' captain, wasn't happy with the new pumps. Apparently, nobody at the parents' association had expected that there were boys of his dick size and there was no insert for an eleven-incher. The ten-inch insert was definitely a tad small for him.
In the meantime, more boys had gathered around the endurance athletes. Whispered bets were passed around as to how much longer Ken Rawlings would be able to withhold his orgasm while the time was 12 minutes and counting. The Jones twins were an experienced team and Ken was dripping sweat and precum. Deep moans escaped his throat which sounded as if he was calling 'No... No... Noooh...' to encourage himself to hold out for just another few seconds and then still a few more. But it was obvious that he wouldn't be lasting much longer. In ever shorter intervals, his arms and legs were flailing, restrained by the heavy straps. His chest was heaving and the sweat from his forehead was mixing with tears from his eyes. Young Kenneth was fighting like a lion.
Gradually, the whole hall became aware of what promised to become a spectacular final and everyone fell silent, watching in awe, admiration and growing anticipation. His fellow endurance athletes stood there, fingers crossed, making those gentle hissing noises known to help soothe each other in their fights.
Not a word was spoken, and even the boy with the stopwatch made his announcements by raising fingers. 14 minutes... Ken's whole body was trembling like a chased deer. 15 minutes... his precum was flowing in such amounts that it dripped down from his sides. 15 minutes 30... Ken was shaking his head wildly, uttering strange gurgling noises... 16 minutes... His body was shaking as violently as the straps on his arms and legs would let it... 16 minutes 30... 16 minutes 38...
There was a long plaintive howl, more animal than human, which echoed from all corners of the hall and Ken's first spurt of cum shot up at least four feet straight into the air and landed on his wanker's face. More spurts followed. Each time, his buttocks lifted themselves high up and his whole body arched upwards. Peter, the teaser, held Ken's head firmly to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself.
Slowly, the orgasm subsided until Ken was lying on the bench in a spent heap, unable to move, breathing heavily while, as usual, wanker and teaser stood at his head and feet with their dicks in their hands and sprayed the athlete with generous amounts of their own sperm to the thundering applause and cheers of jubilation from the onlookers.
Just then, Briggs' whistle was heard as a sign that training was almost over and those who hadn't done so in the course of their exercises should relieve themselves, now.
Everybody gathered around the bench, where a victorious Ken Rawlings was slowly regaining his senses, to celebrate his great achievement in the only fitting way - a cum shower.
All had their tools in their hands and even boys who had cum before, like most of the sprint wankers, Marley with his impressive black tool, and young Tommy Hillman-Banks, the talented cum shooter, joined all the others, big and small, with dicks of all colours, shapes and sizes, until they were united in one great circle, wanking their dicks for all they were worth.
One after the other shot his load on to the hero of the day, Kenneth Rawlings, who was covering his eyes to protect them from the onslaught but was smiling proudly until he was bathed in cum from head to toe. There was cum dripping from his hair and some was even running out of his ears.
Eventually, when the last boys had shot their loads, they all went to the showers and Briggs had to admit, if only to himself, that they really were a great team.
The End